[Man On P.A.] Attention, all personnel.
No casualties for the 11 th straight day.
O.R. Will remain open for cuticle and wart removal.
Come early, win a door prize.
- Check. - That's what you think.
Three of diamonds!
Crown my king.
- Thank you. - It's nothing.
You're cheating.
- How can I cheat? There are no rules. - Oh, yeah.
Knight to knight seven. Full house, you hustler.
- Oh, really? - Uh-huh.
- Gin. - Gin it is.
- Thank you. - Let's set up the board again.
This time, I get to play cards and checkers.
Oh, no, no, no. That's not fair.
- Because whoever has the cards and checkers always wins. - [Knocking]
- Well, that's what l... - Don't-Don't look. Don't look.
- Five bucks says that's Father Mulcahy. - [Chuckles]
- Ten'll get you Radar. - You're on.
- Come in. - Afternoon, sirs.
Aah! Radar, you're the last person I wanted to see!
Radar, old buddy, lookin' at you is like money in the bank.
All the other tents, they just say hello.
- Would you like to join us? - What are you playin'?
- Double Cranko. - Yeah.
- Bishops are worth three jacks. - Right.
- Checkers are wild. - Uh-huh.
And you have to be 21 or over to open.
Ah.
- Care to sit in for a hand? - You'll get out by dawn.
Uh, no, thank you, sirs. Whenever I lose, I always like to know why.
Actually, I just come in to see Major Winchester.
- Now I'm confused. - I just wanna borrow his record player.
We just got a new shipment of records in from Special Services.
Colonel Potter says I could play 'em over the P.A. If I could find something to play 'em on.
That should be great for breaking up the monotony.
I don't know. You know, I remember their last batch.
"Andy Devine Sings Cole Porter."
Oh, no. These are all new. There's some really swingin'jazz stuff.
Radar, say no more.
Here you are, compliments of Major Winchester.
Uh, sir, I can't take it without his permission.
- He loves for people to borrow his things. - No, it's not right.
I take full responsibility. Just don't tell him I gave it to you.
- I don't know about this. - Go on, quick, before Charles changes his mind.
- Okay. You guys thank him for me, okay? - I'll be sure not to do that.
- Gee, it's nice to be nice. - Ready to start?
- Okay, let's flip the board to see who goes first. - Call it in the air.
There you are, kid.
We're ready to go on the air from one end of the camp to the other.
- Oh, my gosh. - Pick up that mike and announce the first tune.
Right.
Uhh...
- That's it? - Oh, come on, Klinger. I don't know what to say.
Well, just put it in your own words.
I don't have any of my own words. I just use everybody else's.
Come on. You speak into this thing all the time.
Yeah, but I never jockeyed a disc before.
- I mean, I don't know what those guys say. - Have no fear, kid.
- I'll tell you what to say. - What, you know about this stuff?
Are you kidding? Remember that payola scandal in Toledo two years ago?
My Uncle Bob gets out next month.
Oh, well, then maybe you should be the announcer.
Me talk into this thing? Not a chance. Here.
Just say your name, then the song.
It's simple.
Okay.
Hi. [Chuckles]
This is Corporal... No, this is Radar.
Um, I just thought you might like to hear, uh...
No, uh, I got a... We just got a shipment of, uh...
Yeah, uh, I'm gonna play a record for you.
- ## [Swing] - [Chuckles]
- Not so terrific, huh? - I better write you some stuff.
- What kind of stuff? - Disc jockey talk.
You know, uh, "Hey, this is your platter pusher, Radar O'Reilly...
slidin' on some hot sides for all you cats and hot dog ladies."
- Dig it? - I don't understand a thing you just said.
Good. Neither will they.
I don't think I was cut out to be talented.
- Uh-oh. Uh-oh. - What?
- Wait a minute. Attention. - ## [Stops]
Attention, all personnel. Incoming choppers. Sounds like plenty.
All medical teams report to triage on the double.
Over here. Set this man down here.
Chinese are throwing everything they got across the parallel.
The 8055th has bugged out. The 8063rd is overloaded.
We're getting everybody's casualties. The whole enchilada.
Fractured skull. Possible hematoma. Dilated pupils.
- Prep him stat. - We're running out of room, sir.
- Make room. This guy can't wait. - [Klinger] Geez. Where are they coming from?
Everywhere. The question is where are we gonna put 'em?
Charles, I got a bus full of belly wounds.
- In a moment. - Now, Charles!
I've got a compound fracture here, and it's bleeding.
- Bones have to wait. - Well, Colonel, I beg to differ.
That's an order, not an opinion.
- The most opinionated order I've ever heard. - Klinger!
- Yes, sir. - Type and cross match for two units whole blood.
- Prep him stat. - Yes, sir.
Radar! Oh. What happened to the music?
I figured with all the casualties and all you'd...
No, no. Get back in there and play something soft and mushy.
We're gonna need all the sedatives we can get.
Yes, sir. I'll get on the slow stuff real fast.
- What'd I tell you? You're a hit. - Yeah, I guess so.
- [Helicopter Overhead] - More choppers.
As if we weren't busy enough.
Hotel's already full. What do we do now?
We move the help. As of now, the Officers Club, the Mess Tent...
the Swamp, the post-ops two, three and four, in that order.
And we thought this was the off-season.
## [Jazz]
[Charles] I have a suggestion.
I will loan Radar one of my classical recordings to relieve this pop nightmare.
Nah, you've done enough, Charles. We're already using your phonograph.
What? Without my consent? I want it back right this second!
Relax, Major. I just made it your contribution to the emergency.
Music is medicine right now.
Just once I would like to offer something before it is taken from me.
- Clamp. - Clamp.
- Sponge. - Sponge.
Margaret, will you please hand me these things on the beat.
- You're the one who's off. - Well, let's get together.
Clamp, two, three, four. Sponge, two, three, four.
- Hawk, name that tune. - "Up a Lazy Liver."
- No, no. It's "Musical Clock." Tell me what it's from. - "Mr. Belvedere Goes to Korea"?
No, it's the theme song from The Late, Late Show.
Why are you telling me? We hardly know each other.
Whenever I heard that at home, it was my turn...
to go out in the kitchen and heat Erin's formula.
I miss that little kid.
He's hemorrhaging. Suction, Margaret.
We've got a lacerated aorta. Pump in two more units of whole blood fast.
[Margaret] Klinger, get two more units of AB negative, now.
AB negative? You might as well ask for a ticket home.
We only had two units in the bank, and it went in the first wave.
Well, do what you can to get us some more.
- I'm doing. - Start him on plasma.
Margaret, vaso clamp. Let's get this bleeding under control.
##[Continues]
Okay, now we do the old double reverse.
Collect all his blood, filter it, and give it back to him in post-op.
Radar, for my next patient, I'd like something in a waltz.
"And now, music lovers, here's some music you might love.
"It's called, uh...
'Wish... Wish You..."'
Uh, I can't see it, 'cause the record's spinning.
Well, here it is, whatever it is.
Okay, today's Mess Tent special: Thermometers.
Each and every one contains mercury on the inside...
with just enough alcohol on the outside to make it interesting.
- ##[Continues] - Listen to that. I hate that song.
They were playing it in the pool hall right before I went in for my physical.
I'd just put the three ball in the side pocket. Four in the corner.
Told Hymie to hold my money, and I'd be back in a half hour with 4-F printed on my chest.
- So what happened? - I walked in there talking Lebanese.
I had my eyes crossed. I had measle dots painted on my face.
It went over like a lead salami.
I wonder if Hymie still has my money.
Each and every one contains numbers up to a hundred and six.
- Oh, Nurse? - Yes, Major?
There's something on this man's chart that l... I don't understand.
See, it says here, "Lima beans and cube steak in country gravy."
Am I to administer that or treat it?
Sorry, Doctor. That's a menu. This is usually the Mess Tent, you know.
Ah. Do inform the cook...
lest he believe this man to be the patient du jour.
##[Continues]
Ah, "May the Good Lord Bless and Keep You." They're playing your song, Father.
Well, actually, I requested "Tico, Tico." But this is very nice too.
Yes, it is. I haven't seen so many people horizontal in this place since New Year's Eve.
At least those people were able to walk in.
Wanna join me at the bar for a shot of cough syrup?
Well, looks like he's having the usual.
Why? Why do I have to move my foodstuffs into Potter's tent...
when they're allowed to leave this ridiculous distillery here?
Will you stop griping?
Haven't you heard? There's a police action on.
That's easy enough for you, Major. You're not being forced out of your own quarters.
- Charles, you know what this is? - What?
It's the world's smallest violin, and it's playing just for you.
And I thought you were different.
Charles, did you pack the napkin rings?
- There are some things I just refuse to do without. - You I expect it from.
Amazing. Charles leaving in a huff. He usually goes out in a snit.
Just so long as he goes.
- How's he doin'? - Not good.
That's the last of his own blood.
Then we're back on plasma. What about the AB donors?
The road to Seoul is out. Nobody can find the 8055...
and the 8063 is worse off than we are.
"And now a rhythmic room-shaker requested by...
"Corporal Max 'I Wanna Get Out Of Here' Klinger.
It'll be coming your way as soon as I put a new fang in the old tone-arm cobra."
"Fang in the tone-arm cobra"?
They found an AB negative donor at Tokyo General.
- [Margaret] Wonderful! - Not so wonderful.
- He's in for hepatitis. - Bull's-eye.
Of course. We got anybody else?
A guy with a bomb disposal unit ten miles from here.
But he's out on "R" and "R." They're tryin' to find him now.
There's never a bomb disposer around when you need one.
How long do you think he's got?
We better fill him up soon.
Blood all over this camp, and none of it the right type.
##[Dance]
You'll excuse me if I don't dance.
And a big hello, you daddy-o's, mommy-o's and N.C.O. S...
from Big Daddy O'Reilly.
- Big Daddy, just play the records. - Got ya covered, big cat.
- What? - Uh, that means yes, sir.
Real cool.
Here's a mover and a groover, and it ain't by Herbert Hoover.
It's for all you animal and music lovers.
"The Cincinnati Dancin' Pig."
- ## [Jazz] - [Ringing]
You say it and I'll play it.
Yeah, MASH 4077 th.
Yeah, hold on a second. Go ahead.
Yeah. Right. Ooh, he is, huh?
Okay, I'll tell 'em all. Great.
- ## [Stops] - Attention, all personnel, especially Hawkeye.
A Big Daddy bulletin. "Your AB negative is on the way.
It'll be here sometime after sundown."
- Which is now. Okay, pig, dance. - ##[Continues]
Hot diggity! That's the first good news I've heard in two days.
- Remember you heard it here first, sir. - You take requests, right?
- I don't have anything from World War I, sir. - Button it.
You have "Sentimental Journey"?
- Oh, Colonel. - Do you have it?
- Well, yeah, but... - Play it.
Okay, but there's a lot of people ahead of you, mostly wounded.
It may not be till later this evening.
Corporal, let me remind you.
I own this station.
It's coming right up, Boss. Uh, Colonel. Owner.
Real cool.
##[Continues]
- [Knocking] - Come on in, bunkies.
- Oh, talk about plush. - When I grow up, I wanna be a colonel.
All right, this is my room. Those are yours.
I don't know. The desk clerk promised me an ocean view.
- Not even room for complaints. - Leave an aisle.
- I make a lot of trips during the night. - Go for me too, will ya?
This thing should come with an instruction manual.
Oh, there's nothing to it. Stand back. I'm gonna blow mine up.
It's as easy as one, two...
Come on, will ya?
There. Good thing only my top half is sleepy.
- I think mine's alive. - Hope none of you boys are sleepwalkers.
Well, I used to be. My mother cured me with psychology.
- Scattered tacks on the floor. - [Knocking]
Nobody here but us sardines.
Oh, now, really. This is impossible.
Major, there's a couple of inches for you right here.
I refuse to sleep standing up.
- Why? We do it in O.R. - I'm sure you do.
I, however, am neither an incompetent nor a horse.
- Well, then, what are you? - I demand a space for my cot!
Hello, room service? Send up a larger room.
Come on, you birds. Let's roost.
- My crib was larger than this tent. - Of course.
- He had to have room for the tennis court. - [Sarcastic Chuckle]
Oh!
Gee, and there's room for us too.
- A little lumpy, but it'll do. - Now that that's settled, good night.
- Get your filthy feet off me. Get them off! - [Both Yell]
- I hope you all have nightmares. - Will you guys quit horsing around?
- [Door Closes] - And now, for the third time tonight...
a request from our commanding station manager...
that moldy oldie, "Sentimental Journey."
- ##[Swing] - [Groaning]
Again? Colonel...
there's gotta be something special about that record for you.
Yeah, there is, but I don't know if I should tell you boys.
Oh, come on, Daddy. We want a story.
Well, every time I hear that song...
- it reminds me of a very special young lady. - Mildred?
- No, after Mildred. - [Together] Oh-ho!
Happened about a dozen years ago...
when I was stationed at Fort Dix.
One night, some of the boys and I went up to New York...
to hear Les Brown and His Band of Renown.
Well, I was sort of just lookin'around...
when suddenly, walkin' across the dance floor...
there she was, this willowy blonde beauty.
I was in love.
Well, the band started playing.
The vocalist started singing "Sentimental Journey."
I looked up to see that I had fallen in love with Doris Day.
I'm glad Mildred wasn't there.
I couldn't have handled it.
I have never taken her to a Doris Day movie.
I've seen 'em all... alone.
Sometimes I feel bad that Mildred doesn't know.
But then I remember, Doris doesn't know either.
[Tires Screech, Horn Honks]
- [Charles] Watch out, you idiot! - [Man] Get out of the way.
You're gonna be sorry you got in the way!
- I bet that's your blood donor. - Yeah.
I can smell his "R" and "R" from here.
We must be gettin' closer to town. We're hittin' more people.
A guy can't sleep anywhere!
Try the minefield, Charles. It's quieter.
- I hate this place! - Oh, boy. This guy is a beaut.
I don't know what good Bloody Mary here is gonna do ya. He's on the rocks.
You'd be surprised. I've seen successful transfusions with 20% alcohol.
Twenty percent? That'd give Dracula a lost weekend.
# Gonna drink a sentimental journey #
# So show me the way to go home #
- This guy's in bomb disposal? - He's bombed, all right.
We didn't need headlights. His nose lit us all the way.
Hey, where's my old buddy, Sergeant Grale?
- Zale. Zale! - Hey, there ya are.
Hey, you're a cute little bugger, ya little bugger.
Watch it. You're wilting the face. Come on, you booze hound.
Well, we're either gonna get blood or vin ordinaire.
Unbottle him, dilute him with black coffee, and pour him into the Swamp.
And don't spill anything. We need it all.
Well, good luck with this one. After he saves the kid, I'm gonna hook him up to the still.
- [Knocking] - Come in.
Take that somewhere else. I've got no more room.
- Margaret, it's me, Charles. - What are you doing dragging a cot around the compound?
I'm looking for a place to spend the night.
- Forget it! - Margaret, there is no other place.
Uh-uh. N-O.
Margaret, on this occasion, allow me to be frank.
Frank? I beg your pardon?
No, no. No, I didn't... I meant Frank with a little "F." I didn't mean that other Frank.
I know what you mean.
Margaret, there are two reasons why you should not be worried.
One, you are a married woman. Two, I am exhausted.
And three, you won't be here.
Margaret, we are both adults.
Yes, of the opposite sex.
##[Swing]
How you feelin', Sarge?
Good as ever. I can handle it now.
- Where's the bomb? - Four cups of coffee and he's even drunker.
- Lie down right here, sir. - Right here.
- Lie down? - Yeah.
- What for? - We're gonna play gas station.
- You're the pump. - And he's out of gas.
What are you... What are you doin'?
Hey. Hey, that's... that's not a bomb.
He's sobering up. He's able to distinguish objects.
That's a needle! What are you gonna do?
Take blood out of your arm and put it into his arm.
- See, he needs alcohol, but he can't drink it straight. - Oh, no!
You're not gonna put no needle in me. I can't stand it. I pass out.
It's okay. You'll be lying down anyway.
You don't understand. Look, l-I really pass out.
I can't stand those things. They-They make me feel oogie.
I know how he feels. I get that way from peanut butter.
- It's okay, Sarge. Take it easy. - No!
- It won't hurt. - Help!
- Talk about getting blood from the stoned.
- Sarge! - Help! Help!
- ##[Swing] - Margaret, I tried post-op.
I tried the Mess Tent. I even tried the compound. I almost got run over.
- Better luck next time. - Help!
- Save me! - Who are you?
- I was here first. - Hide me, please!
- They're trying to kill me! - Who's trying to kill you?
They are, with that... needle.
- Don't mind him, folks. He's just a volunteer. - Well, what have we here?
- You two kids have the whole house to yourselves? - What are you doing?
- Oh, no! - Get him out of here!
- No! - Margaret, will you be quiet? You're making him nervous.
- Move him! - Makes a great chaperone.
- Get out! - Let's get him back to the Swamp before somebody lights a match.
- Let's go, Bourbon Street. - [Zale] Come on, you bum.
- What is going on here? - We asked you first.
If he snores during the night, make him go back to his own cot.
- How dare you! - Bless you, my children.
- Get out! - Don't they make a lovely couple?
Come on. They want to be alone. Woo-woo-woo!
- Now you see what I put up with... - You and your cot, get out!
- I haven't had any... - Get that cot out of here! Out!
Out! It's almost dawn.
I want to thank you for the charming evening.
Perhaps there's a nice deserted roof somewhere.
##[Slow Jazz ]
Mon Capitans, I bring you good news from the corpuscle front.
New donors are on the way, and you'll soon be able to unhook...
this clean, wholesome youth from this stinking drunk.
- How is the patient, by the way? - Pulse is 88.
Blood pressure 94 over 60.
I bet you he wakes up singing "Sweet Adeline."
And he wakes up singing "How Dry I Am."
It's beddy-bye time for you, sir.
Unhand me, you varlet. You know not whom you touch.
Come on, Captain. The crisis is over, huh? What do you say?
- Don't ask. Just take him. - Take, take.
That's all anybody does. Does anybody give around here?
All right. Give me your arm.
Who's there? Who's there?
- It's okay, Harker. - Who are you?
I'm a doctor. A very tired doctor.
- My stomach hurts. - I know.
We'll give you something for it when you're a little stronger.
- Am I gonna die? - Of course not.
You're not gonna die either.
## ["Sentimental Journey"]
[Sighs]
You know, uh, this is Radar, mike-side...
talking to you over the mike, and this is the 23rd playing...
of the old "Sentimental Journey."
You know, I've really enjoyed staying up all night playing this tune.
And now that we've all heard it...
we'll never forget it, including me...
'cause I've played it 23 times.
And you folks have been so kind...
with your requests and your kind requests...
that I just wanted to tell you that I'm gonna stay here...
on this sentimental journey for 12 more hours.
How's that, you hot potatoes out there in MASH-land?
- ## [Stops] - You just signed off.
- But, sir, my loyal listeners... - Are the ones that asked me to shut you off.
- Oh. - Don't feel too bad.
You did a good job. You kept us going at a crucial time.
- I'm proud of you, son. - Thank you, sir.
And for the first time in 12 years...
I can honestly say I'm sick and tired of Doris Day.
- What do you mean, I lose? - Look, I got a full house.
All you've got is a lousy pair of checkers.
Plus the fact that my ten of hearts has your bishop ready to convert.
- Is he following the rules? - What rules?
Ah. Now it makes sense.
Sergeant Walter Gribble requests permission to say good-bye, Colonel.
- Permission granted, Sergeant. - Good-bye, Colonel.
Good-bye, Sergeant.
You know, uh, it's a pleasure to be able to help dismantle that bomb.
- You ever need me again, just call. - Oh, we will.
- You do fine work. - Thanks. You know...
bomb disposal is not only a highly technical and complex job...
but a very dangerous one.
- May I? - Oh, please.
Too much rice. I could tell you stories that would set your hair on edge.
I'm sure you could. Colonel, you owe me 17...
I'll never forget this one time when this nut put a bomb in his colonel's briefcase.
It was attached to the lock, and I had to cut...
- right through the briefcase. - Gee, it's time for rounds.
Had to cut right through so I would not touch the, uh... Excuse me. I have to run.
Colonel, you owe me 17 dollars and 12 cents.
I think we should go again, all right? I think you're ready for Triple Cranko.