- [Hawkeye] Clamp. Look at them. They're babies. - What are you talking about?
The patients, Frank. Look at their faces.
They couldn't ante up a whisker between them.
- [Frank] Beards don't prove anything. - [B.J.] Remember. You heard it here first.
- Litter! - [Frank] It's not what's on their chins, but what's in their guts.
[Hawkeye] Which is mostly shrapnel.
Frank started out to be a psychiatrist, but he discovered he likes the sight of blood.
[Frank] Oh, hardy-har-har. These men are soldiers, Pierce...
- and darn proud of it. - No, they're not. They're babies.
Look at this Timothy Burke. Can't be more than 18 years old.
He ought to be home being burped by his mother.
We're all a bunch of pediatricians. All except you, Frank.
Oh? And what am I? Well?
Don't rush me. I'm still working on it.
[Margaret] Tsk. Clumsy oaf.
And no prompting from the studio audience, please.
Babies.
You okay, Hawk?
I'm going out.
"Wondering where they went. And so the..." Oh, Hawkeye.
I'm on my way to a root beer float.
Look at that daffy dan. I thought he was supposed to be so exhausted.
Tomcatting around as usual. Probably on the prowl for that Nurse Able.
Able and willing is the way I hear it.
It's possible, Frank, that Captain Pierce just is trying to unwind.
- After all, he did put in a 19-hour day. - And what about me?
- You slept. - I took a nap.
- Eight hours, Frank, is not a nap. - So sue me.
- The alarm didn't go off. - Sure, Frank.
Well, it was still a long day.
- I'm human. - Oh?
I need to unwind too. Margaret, I'm as taut as a watch spring.
Your state of tautness is no longer a concern of mine, Major Burns.
I happen to be an engaged person.
- Oh, that scent. What is it? - Forbidden Furlough.
- Eight dollars an ounce. - Oh, it's worth it. It's driving me mad.
It's not intended to do that, Major Burns.
- It's to remind me of him. - Oh, Margaret, I ache for you. I yearn for you.
- You're everything beautiful and fine and noble in this world. - Uh-huh.
You're the moon, the sun, the stars in heaven.
- You make the angels feel unworthy. - Frank, really!
I know God exists because you exist.
I belong to him.
You better than anyone ought to know.
- I'm a one-man woman. - You're all woman.
Lieutenant Colonel Penobscott's all man.
You smell like a French hooker.
- Hiya, Scooter. - "Scooter"?
- Look at my new tennis shoes. - Your new what?
I feel so light. I feel like I could run forever. I feel so free.
I know what you mean. I get that feeling with a pair of new pumps.
Ain't you tired, Captain?
You were in the O.R. All day and half the night.
- What do you think of our new principal, Mr. Vanderhaven? - Who?
I like your new BB gun. My dad won't let me get one.
- See ya, Scoot. - Oh!
Get some sleep, Captain.
- Hi. - Hi, Hawkeye.
- You wanna go down to the park and play ball? - No, I think not, Hawkeye.
- It's a little late to play ball. - Okay.
- Strike out? - Nobody to play with.
You screwball. Right in front of Nurse Ripley.
Next time you're in the mood to play ball, wait till she goes on duty.
- You tired? - What's beyond tired?
- [Radar] Exhausted? - What comes after that?
- Dead? - Now you're gettin' warm.
What do you expect, wandering around the compound half the night?
- What's he talking about? - I guess he's talking about your midnight stroll.
- Now what are you talking about? - [Klinger] Hey, Captain. No foolin'.
You were playing basketball sort of.
Don't... Don't pull my leg. The shape I'm in, it'll come off.
You were telling me about your new tennis shoes.
- What tennis shoes? - You were wearing boots...
but you were talking about this great pair of tennies you got.
Then you asked me about some guy named Vander-something-or-other.
I don't know any Vander-something.
You said he was the new principal.
What is it, son?
Vanderhaven. He's talking about Clarence Vanderhaven.
I just got a cold shiver down my back.
Me too.
You must have been sleepwalking.
- I don't sleepwalk. I mean, I never have. - How do you know?
That's right. You may have even performed surgery in your sleep.
The voice of experience.
I'm sure it's nothing to be overly concerned about, Hawkeye.
You've just been working too hard.
You're not worried about anything special, are you?
Me worry? What have I got to worry about?
Except the chance I may go to sleep tonight in the Swamp...
and wake up tomorrow morning strolling through downtown Peking.
I was playing basketball?
Yeah. But on the bright side, you weren't bad.
Would you believe that two years ago I never even heard of Korea?
Me neither, but then, uh, geography was never my strong subject.
- Where are you from? - Crabapple Cove, Maine.
- You probably heard of it. - That sounds nice.
Like a place where Winnie-the-Pooh hangs out.
It was a great place to be a kid.
There was a stream with fish in it that ran right behind the house.
More trees than you could climb in a lifetime.
And in the fall, when the leaves began to turn...
you couldn't believe the beauty.
It was as if God had invented new colors just for the occasion.
- What about the people? - They never changed color.
Always the same. Off-white.
Come on. What are they like?
The best.
The greatest man I ever knew was born there. He never wanted to live anywhere else.
- Who's that? - My dad.
- How long since you've seen him? - A lifetime.
Two years.
- Did you lose something, sir? - Hi, Stinky.
Uh, sir, that's the sort of name that kind of sticks with a fella.
I'd appreciate it if you'd just call me by my given nickname.
What's cooking, Dexter?
If those are my only choices, I guess I'll take Stinky. It's got a little more pizzazz.
- What? - He's at it again.
- Waah! - [Radar] What do you mean? What are you talking about?
- [Klinger] He's asleep. - Oh, go on.
- Hawkeye, you asleep? - Don't wake him. He'll get lockjaw.
Before I'm through, I'm gonna own every purie in Crabapple Cove.
- [Radar] That's spooky! - Help me get him back to bed.
Right.
- What a shot! I'm gonna clean up. - [Klinger] Here we go.
- [Radar] Careful, sir. - Did you see that? You see that shot?
- Right. - What a shot. Hey, Stinky.
- What? - Do me a favor, will ya?
Get my marbles. If I leave them out there, somebody's gonna swipe 'em.
- Right. - Come on, Hawkeye. Just a bit further.
- What a shot. - [Radar] Easy now. Relax. Ooh. Ooh.
Come on, Stinky.
I knew it. I knew it.
I swallowed... [Muttering Sleepily]
[Muttering Continues] Watch it!
- Toby! Toby, the trees! - Hawk! Hawkeye!
- What? What? What? - It's all right. It's just a dream. It's okay.
You're having a bad dream.
- Oh, God. That was awful. - What was it?
Oh, God. What a dream!
- Who's Toby? - Toby. Toby Wilder. My... He's my best friend.
We w...
When we were kids, he and I and Dickie Barber were the Three Musketeers.
I saw us riding our sleds down Hermitage Hill.
We were just kids. We were, like, 11 or 12. And, uh...
He was go... He was going way too fast.
He was li... completely out of control.
It was as if the snow had turned to ice.
And he was heading for the trees.
And he kept screaming my name. "Hawkeye! Hawkeye!"
It's just a dream, Hawk.
Yeah, sure. Just a dream.
Only I'm shaking like a leaf. My heart's pounding as if I've run 10 miles.
My palms are sweaty. And I'm not sure, but I think I wet the bed.
[Inhales, Exhales Deeply]
[Margaret] That dream could have been a warning, a premonition.
- I don't believe in that stuff. - Some people have extrasensory perception.
I knew you were gonna say that.
Seriously. Have you a more logical explanation?
- Scalpel. - Scalpel.
Are you forgetting I'm a doctor as well as a card-carrying skeptic?
- I don't believe most of what I can see, let alone what I can't. - So what's your explanation?
There's no reason to make a big deal out of a little sleepwalking and one nightmare.
I agree. And I wouldn't if it were happening to anyone else.
It's tension. You've been working too hard, and you're not sleeping.
Yeah. The only green vegetables I get are martini olives. What do I expect?
Exactly.
Frankly, I think I'm pregnant. I also think I'm gonna call Toby Wilder.
Not because I believe in any of that clairvoyant stuff.
Just because I want to chat with an old friend, see how he's doing, see how the kids are...
and if it should come up in conversation, find out if he's been killed on a sled recently.
[Hawkeye] Toby, you were flying down Hermitage Hill...
and you were heading right for that big oak, you know?
And you kept ca... No, really. No. Really. You kept calling my name.
Uh, huh?
No, I don't owe you 37 bucks. Listen, the...
Toby, I do not owe you $37. Listen to me, will ya?
The sled was... Toby, li... The... Tob...
Yes. I borrowed the money. I admit that. But I paid you back years ago.
Why would I lie?
Okay, Toby. Fine, fine. If that's how you feel about it, come over here and collect.
Next time he gets on a sled, it better not be in my dream.
##[Piano]
- How can you be so sure you paid him? - Because I always pay my debts.
Except for Nudist Quarterly. I ordered that in Frank's name.
But the point is, I was calling 11,000 miles to try to save his life...
and all he could do was gripe about 37 lousy dollars.
What's 11,000 miles got to do with anything?
People always talk about long-distance phone calls like they had to walk all the way.
That's true. You know, Klinger, you're not just another pretty face.
- You're definitely not just another pretty face. - Thank you.
Good night, all. Sleep tight.
- I think I'll tuck it in too. - What's your hurry?
What's with you? Are you giving up sleep for Lent?
There's no point in going to bed. I'll just be up playing basketball in five minutes.
Come on. Stick around. I'll buy you a drink.
Good night, Captain.
That's easy for you to say.
- Hey, how goes it, Frank? - What?
- Life. - Life?
Yeah. Everything turning out the way you wanted?
Are your dreams, aspirations and fantasies shaping up?
- You woke me up. - Well, God knows I've tried.
Are you nutsy? I was sleeping.
- Yeah. Don't rub it in. - Why did you wake me up?
'Cause I'm interested in you, Frank.
- Tell me about your hometown. - It's Fort Wayne. What's it to ya?
I hear Fort Wayne is the Brussels of the Midwest. Tell me about the people.
- All of them. - You're crazy, Pierce.
- You wanna hear about my hometown? - No.
Crabapple Cove. First settled in the year 1684.
Population: 3,976.
Fort Wayne's bigger than that.
Yeah.
You ever been afraid to go to sleep at night, Frank?
- Of course not. - Even as a kid?
Well, I had a Popeye night-light when I was little.
My dad took it away. He said it was dark 12 hours out of every 24...
and he wouldn't put up with a son who was a coward half the time.
- He took away your night-light? - It's no big deal.
There's nothing in the dark that's not there in the light.
Why do I find no comfort in that thought?
Popeye, where are you when I need you?
[Exhales]
[Hawkeye Screaming]
[Screaming Continues]
- Radar, I gotta call Crabapple Cove. - Huh?
I just had a dream. Dickie Barber... an explosion.
- He was blown into a million pieces. - Wow! A million pieces.
Get up. I gotta call him. I gotta find out if he's okay. I gotta warn him.
Right.
[Radar] He wants me to call Dickie Barber.
I gotta hear his voice. I gotta make sure.
- Place the call, Radar. - Yes, sir.
- Anything I can do, son? - No.
It'll take time for Radar to get through. Why don't you lie down for a little while?
Sparky.
When Hawkeye's finished, I want you to place a second call.
- Who to? - Dr. Sidney Freedman.
- The psychiatrist? - Shh.
Yes, sir.
He's fine. Dickie Barber's just fine.
- My hometown's gonna think I turned into a ghoul. - Come on.
You dream a couple of friends are in danger and you figure you might do some good warning them.
I don't think Crabapple Cove is gonna banish you for that.
- I think I'm cracking up. - Hawk.
No, I'm not kidding. How long can a person live without sleep?
Two weeks, but you gotta keep dancing.
I'm scared.
We're sitting in the middle of a war. You're supposed to be scared. It's normal.
- No, not this scared. Not this way. - What's different?
It's one thing to live in a shooting gallery...
but now I'm being attacked from inside.
I'm afraid to lie down in my sack. I'm afraid to close my eyes.
How do I defend myself from myself?
Thanks, Doc. We'll see you tomorrow. Bye.
- What's the matter with Hawkeye, sir? - I don't know, Radar.
Oh, gee. I thought he was doing okay fighting against the war.
You mean fighting the war, don't you?
No, sir. I mean the war against the war.
You know. We all fight it. You fight it by, uh, painting and riding your horse...
and I fight it by working hard and taking care of my animals.
Yeah.
- That makes sense. - Yes, sir, but, uh...
Well, Hawkeye's really fought it.
I mean, he's made fun of it.
He knew it was awful, but... but he never let it get him.
He never backed down.
They oughta give him a medal for the way he's fought this war.
The worse it got, the... the more he joked about it.
And now the jokes aren't working anymore.
- No, sir. The other side's winning. - It hasn't won yet.
Once upon a time, a kid named David went up against a heavy favorite named Goliath...
- and decked him. - I know about that, sir.
But David wasn't afraid to fall asleep at night.
- I'm out. - Me too.
- That's what I thought. - Is He ever wrong?
Only when it comes to poker.
I believe you, Radar. I'm going out...
and I'm taking my measly pair of nines with me.
- You win, Radar. - Geez, all I had was a pair of sevens.
- [Groans] - Sorry, Hawkeye.
Who'd have thought it would come to this.
Radar not only bluffs me out of a pot, he pities me besides.
- I'm going out for some air. - [Sidney] Mind if I tag along?
Fine with me, Doc. As long as your couch has wheels on it.
[Klinger] Okay. Seven card high-low, deuces wild, high spade in the hole.
[Sidney] How's it going?
[Austrian Accent] Well, you is the cuckoo expert. I'm just a cuckoo.
- Potter call you? - Would you be upset if he had?
No. I'd appreciate his concern.
[Sidney] I'm just here to play a little poker, have a couple of drinks...
and figure out the meaning of life.
- Sidney, I'm afraid to go to sleep. - So I hear.
And they tell me I've been playing a mean game of zombie basketball.
They tell me you've been worrying about losing your marbles.
Ah, very good.
For my next trick I'll invent sibling rivalry.
Tell me, what's happening, Sidney? I'm scared sick.
Why do I sleepwalk? Why do I have these terrible nightmares?
I see old pals as clearly as I see you, and they're getting zapped.
And then I call the States, and they're home watching Milton Berle.
If this keeps up, people are gonna realize I'm as crazy as I think I am.
What do you think?
I think I'd like to sit down.
Tell me, Sidney, has my little red choo-choo gone chugging around the bend?
You amateurs just can't resist tossing around that psychoanalytical jargon.
Okay. Have it your way. Has my, uh, trolley been derailed?
Am I playing with half a deck? Am I driving without my headlights?
That's better.
So you've been walking in your sleep.
What do you think it means?
I'm walking. I'm, uh, uh...
I'm walking towards something.
- I'm walking away from something. - Mm-hmm.
I'm trying to escape.
In other words, you go to sleep, your subconscious takes a little walk...
and brings your body along for company.
Yeah, well, I don't seem to be getting very far.
You're making it all the way back to Crabapple Cove.
All the way back to a time when playing ball and shooting marbles and going on picnics...
were all there was to worry about.
No more responsibility.
No more life and death decisions.
And pain was a skinned knee.
What about my nightmares?
What about them?
I keep having these dreams about these...
these kids I grew up with.
And l...
The... The dreams start out okay. The kids are fine.
And then they end in disaster.
Like those kids who roll past you on that bloody assembly line.
You dream to escape, but the war invades your dream, and you wake up screaming.
The dream is peaceful.
Reality is the nightmare.
Am I crazy, Sidney?
[Scoffs]
No.
A bit confused, a little "furshimmeled" is all.
Actually, Hawkeye, you're probably the sanest person I've ever known.
The fact is, if you were crazy, you'd sleep like a baby.
So when do my nightmares end?
When this big one ends, most of the others should go away.
But there's a lot of suffering going on here, Hawkeye, and you can't avoid it.
You can't even dream it away.
You're very reassuring, Sidney.
You got a heck of a "warside" manner.
Let's cut out this kid stuff and play some ball.
- Ooh. - Hey. You're pretty bad.
- [Hawkeye And Sidney Chattering] - Come here.
Look at that, will ya?
Is it any wonder I can't get a Section Eight?
In this outfit, you wanna be crazy, you gotta stand in line.
- Do you think it's gonna work? - Come again.
Is Freedman buying it?
- "It"? - The shtick. The routine.
Listen, I've been kicking myself for not coming up with it on my own.
It's beautiful. A little basketball, a little marbles...
a little bloodcurdling scream in the dead of night.
I doff my chapeau. It's subtle. It's artistic.
And, best of all, you don't have to worry about the fickle whims of fashion.
True, Klinger, but then I'll never know the rapture...
of the warm, lingering looks that follow you constantly.
I suppose. It is an act, isn't it?
Mais oui, Josephine. I'm as sane as you.