[Mulcahy Narrating] Sunday. Dear Sis.
Received your letter.
It's a shame Sister Lombardi was transferred to St. Cecilia.
I know the basketball team will miss her hook shot.
As I write this, no one has shown up for my 10.00 ecumenical service...
but I'm not disappointed yet.
- It's only 11.30. - [Vehicle Approaching]
I guess my sermon is not exactly what you'd call a hot ticket.
I realize, Sis, that you'll get this letter around Ash Wednesday...
but here it's the week before Christmas.
It's a time of anticipation and hope.
[Man On P.A.] Choppers.! All hands report to the pen.
[Mulcahy] Unfortunately, it's also the time when both sides...
get in as much destruction as they can before the Christmas truce.
When you're faced with such overwhelming physical misery...
itjust doesn't seem enough to offer spiritual comfort.
I keep wanting to do more, but more is never enough.
- Has this man had morphine? - Yes, sir. I gave him a quarter grain.
Perky son of a gun, isn't he? Would you give us a hand here, Father?
Why, certainly, Colonel. Calm down, son. Everything's gonna be...
- [Choking] - I'd like to help you there, Father, but I'm sterile.
[Patient] They're not putting me to sleep.
[Mulcahy] What exactly concerns you about going to sleep?
- Waking up. - Can we get on with this? My arches are killin' me.
Son, you're going to be fine. You just have to have a little faith.
Are you Catholic? Jewish?
I'm not anything. I'm just scared.
You're going to have to believe, whether you believe or not.
Fortunately, you've fallen into the hands of the best medical unit in Korea.
I swear it.
Just have a little faith in these doctors.
Just a little. Try, okay?
Well, okay.
[Sighs]
There. I don't think he'll be giving you any more trouble.
Probably not. While you were locked in his arms, I gave him another quarter grain.
- You did? - Couldn't have done it without you, Father.
Yes. Thank goodness for me.
I have absolutely no strength left.
My white corpuscles are tattletale gray.
There are mushrooms growing on the back of my tongue.
Gentlemen, I hate to impose on you.
- I know what a terribly long time you've spent in O.R. - Long time?
I've been breathing through that mask for so long...
- there's a pound of lint in my nose. - You don't say?
- What's the scam, Father? - St. Theresa's orphanage.
I'd like to run into Seoul and buy them some toys for Christmas.
How do you do it? Fourteen hours in O.R., and you're bright as a nickel in the well water.
Well, I haven't really done anything yet.
I mean, of consequence. How about it?
Anybody got any used money to trade in for a fresh, warm glow?
- Take 20, Father. - Here. Whatever you can find in there is yours.
Oh, sure, be nicer than thou. Here, Father. Take my shirt and my pants.
That certainly is generous, boys.
Here's 14 bucks, Father. Catch me later, and I'll sweeten that.
- Bless you. Major? - Father.
Those children know nothing but hardship, Father.
I will not raise their hopes, only to dash them again the day after Christmas.
It is a useless gesture.
I'll see your useless and raise their hopes. Put me down for another 10.
- How about it, Major? - Sorry, Father. I guess I left my heart in my other pants.
Your brains are in your pants. Your heart fell out with your hair.
I have the perfect Christmas gift for you, Pierce...
crutches for your lame wit.
- Ha ha! - "Ha ha"?
You scale the heights, Pierce.
Allow me to take my leave before you decimate me with a "Says you"...
or, God forbid, an "Oh, yeah?"
Gentlemen.
I don't know much about psychology...
but that man's butter has slipped off his noodles.
Oh, excuse me, sirs.
F-Father, could you come quick? It's Edna.
She's never been pregnant before, and I think she could be in a lot of trouble.
Do you have a blessing you could give over the telephone? It would mean a lot to my mom.
Well, certainly. Is Edna your sister?
Uh, no, Father, she's our cow.
It's an all-purpose blessing.
- How dare you put yourself ahead of me! - Aaah!
I have been waiting hours for my phone call to Boston...
and I picked up this phone and found myself speaking to your mother!
Geez, you didn't yell at her, did ya? She's got high blood pressure!
- I did not raise my voice to your lovely mother. - You better didn't.
Hi. Mom? Yeah, I got Father Mulcahy right here.
Huh? He's, uh...
you know, he's Catholic.
Wh... I don't know. He's okay, Mom.
Wait a minute. Uh, Father, you think you could do it in Methodist?
I'm a piano player, Radar. I'll transpose.
Hello, Mrs. O'Reilly.
Yes.
Well, thank you. Some of mine are Methodists.
She don't mean no harm.
Heavenly Father, grant us... Hmm?
Oh! Oh, yes, certainly, if you like.
She's holding the phone out so that the cow can hear it.
- She's doing what? - Our cow is in labor.
You held up a phone call from my sister...
so that he could bless a cow?
Well, cows are people too, you know.
And I'm arguing with him.
Heavenly Father...
grant us through your divine intercession...
the guidance which we so urgently need in this...
Hmm?
- She is? - Wh-What's the matter?
- She's giving birth. - Oh! Oh, gee, the vet isn't even there yet!
Mom? Yeah?
Oh, it's comin' out backwards!
Like everything else around here.
Wait a minute, Mom! I got a doctor right here!
- Don't you dare! - Come on. I don't want my mom to go through this alone.
- You're a doctor. You gotta! - Give me the phone, please.
Thank you.
Hello, Mrs. O'Reilly.
Yes. Yes, I am a doctor, but I'm Presbyterian. Will that be all right?
Wonderful. All right. Please describe the situation.
Thanks anyway, Father. I know you did the best you could.
Well, actually, I had a wonderful finish.
Uh-huh. All right. Now listen carefully, Mrs. O'Reilly.
You're gonna have to put your hand inside the cow and turn the calf around.
Oh! Ew! Ick!
Oooh! [Groaning] Oh, Father!
Oooh! Oh, boy! Oh, ick!
[Mulcahy Narrating] I'm almost desperate to be useful, Sis.
No one comes for confession.
I have no one to grant absolution to, no one to give comfort to...
no one who even wants to bend my ear for 10 minutes.
At times like this, I head straight for the bar at the Officers Club.
Thanks for the suds, Father. I can really use it.
Not at all, Klinger. You look a little down in the dumps.
Yeah. Well, I don't wanna bore you, Father.
Oh, not at all. Not at all. Bore away.
Well, it's Christmas, and I'm thinking ofToledo.
Mm-hmm.
And I'm dreaming about this Christmas tree, 10 feet high...
- Ah! - Strung with an endless chain of Paco's Hungarian hot dogs.
- Mm-hmm. - And up on top...
dressed like an angel, is my ex-wife Laverne.
Uh-huh. That sounds nice, Klinger.
Except for one thing: I hate Laverne.
That's what depresses me, Father.
I'm sitting here, thinking about what a wonderful Christmas it would be...
- if only I was with Laverne, if only I didn't hate Laverne... - Mm-hmm.
If only she didn't ask for it, the way she walked out on me.
That's quite a string of"if onlys."
You know, in the Book of Job...
- Father, can I have another one of these? - I'll be right back.
He thinks he's got problems.
- Care to talk about it, Major? - You sure you wanna hear?
I'm an entire ear.
- How would you like to be married to a skunk, Father? - My religion forbids it.
- Father, you want to put a head on this? - Hold that thought.
She thinks she has problems.
I grew up with Laverne. We used to steal candy together.
We were very close, Father. I still wear one of her dresses.
My son, try not to hang on to the past.
- Remember Joseph and his brother... - Do you have any pretzels?
I'll be right back.
## [Humming]
- Yes. - I'm a generous woman, Father.
I don't give halfway.
And what did I get from him? A mental, physical and spiritual zilch.
- Uh, well, you know, we don't always get what we want. - Uh-huh.
Jacob toiled for seven years in order to marry Rachel...
and then her father slipped him Leah, the blear-eyed one.
Small potatoes, Father. Pardon my Latin.
- Father. - Uh, uh, coming.
J- J- J... Uh...
Well, now, where were we?
Job or Joseph? Let me try a little Joseph on you.
You know what I want for Christmas, Father? I want to forget.
- Yes, well... - What do you want?
- Father.! - Uh, roller skates.
[Mulcahy Narrating] I do give last rites to the dying, Sis.
But if only there was something I could do for the living.
Anybody else got a chest? All right. Plasma here. I'll start him first.
- Plasma! - What are you gonna do, just leave me here?
Come on. Somebody help me.
- Okay, Lieutenant, let's see what you've got here. - What's going on here?
- They just left me here. Nobody even looked at me. - Okay. I'm checking you now.
- Look, I don't want a nurse. I want a doctor. - There isn't any available.
Let me just check... Father, will you help me here, please?
- Relax, son. She's the head nurse. - Are you a doctor?
- No, I'm a priest. - I don't want a priest, and I don't want a nurse.
- I want a doctor. - You'll get a doctor as soon as one is available.
Let me check your wound! Will you hold him still!
I can't give him an injection for you this time!
Just a moment! Hold on...
Are you all right?
Oh, my God.
[Medical Staff Clamoring]
- Hiya, slugger. How are the mitts? - Very funny.
- How is Lieutenant Forrester? - He's got good footwork, but he's weak in the clinches.
My money's on you for the rematch.
Look, I'm deeply troubled about this incident...
and I would appreciate it if you would not speak about it with the jawbone of an ass.
He's okay, Father. Why don't you go say hi?
- Hello, son. Just a minute. Take it easy. - Whoa!
Listen. You just stay on your side of the war, and I'll stay on mine, okay?
Lieutenant, you don't know how badly I feel about what happened.
Yeah? Put a little ice on your conscience, Father. Did wonders for my jaw.
Really, son, I'm very, very sorry.
I'll look in on you a little later.
Where were you ordained, Father, Stillman's Gym?
Give him another unit of plasma. I'll be right back.
[Wind Whistling]
You know, I used to coach boxing at the C.Y.O.
I told my boys it built character.
Father, why don't you stop punching yourself on the chin?
- Pick on somebody your own size. - I'm Christ's representative.
"Suffer the little children to come unto me."
"Do unto others..."
I'm not just supposed to say that stuff. I'm supposed to do it.
- All you're supposed to do is the best you can. - Some best.
- Best is best. - [Sighs]
Look. Suppose you were sitting here now...
with somebody who had done his best and was feeling lousy about it.
You'd let 'em off the hook, wouldn't you?
Sure, I would.
And if the hook didn't work, I'd probably try an uppercut.
Father, get off your back.
Ah, it isn't just that.
I don't seem to make a difference here.
I hang around on the edge of effectiveness.
And when I do step in, I really step in.
Look. This place has made us all nuts.
Why should you be any different?
We don't sleep. We don't eat.
And every day a truck comes in and lays a bunch of bleeding bodies on the ground.
Okay, so you hit someone.
We have to stand here and watch so much misery...
we're lucky we don't all join hands and walk into a chopper blade.
[Sighs] Look. I'm going inside.
- I gotta go reduce a little suffering. - Me too.
I'll go sob myself to sleep.
##[Radio. Orchestral Carol]
Well, here's to the Christmas we were supposed to be home by.
Boy, you're a cheery bunch.
You know, between decorating the tree with thermometers...
and Radar singing those Christmas carols on the P. A...
and that little below-zero nip in the air...
this place really manages to capture that good, old-fashioned Christmas depression.
Back home, it's Christmas morning.
Erin's opening the toys I got for her in Tokyo...
and they've been bouncing halfway around the world for six months.
They'll be all busted up before she even has the chance to have the fun of breaking them.
How about you, Major?
I'm fine, thank you. No problems.
You're a rock, Margaret.
I have to be. [Sniffles]
Look, folks, I've spent 18 Christmases away from Mildred...
some of them up to my hips in mud.
It took me 15 of them to realize I was making myself miserable...
because I wanted to be someplace else.
If you ain't where you are, you're no place.
Well, here we are.
Now, the cook says he made a traditional turkey dinner for Christmas.
Let's go over and dig in.
- Oh, what the hell. All right. - That's the spirit.
- Thank you. - Thanks, Colonel.
- You're an inspiration, Colonel. - [Chuckles]
Now they got me depressed.
[Laughter]
There. What'd I tell you? You look happier already.
- I understand the cook made us a traditional Christmas dinner. - Right.
Turkey on shingles with... cranberry sausage.
I'm not too proud. Fork it over.
I remember one Christmas in the Black Forest.
The company horse broke his leg, and the cook tried to pass him off as dark meat.
I cried all through dinner.
You know what this smells like, son?
I can't smell anymore, Colonel. I've been here too long.
Perhaps you might give this to someone less fortunate than I.
##[Radio. Christmas Carol]
- Merry Christmas, Colonel. And thanks for the present. - Did it fit?
- Perfect. - I thought his little feet might not get in there, you know?
What'd you give him?
I gave him a pair of my grandson's pajamas for his, uh...
- Uh... - Uh...
- For my teddy bear. - [Laughing] No kidding?
They happen to be real cute.
- [Shouting, Squealing] - Santa.!
- It's Santa Claus.! - [All Laughing]
- Ho, ho, ho! - Now that's what I call pitching in!
[B.J.] All right, everybody, come and get 'em.!
- Ho, ho, ho.! - [All Cheering, Shouting]
- Merry Christmas, Major. - Hmm? Oh, thank you.
Sir, aren't you gonna go over there and see if there's a present for you?
I, uh... Uh, no. [Chuckles]
- I think not. - Are you sure, sir?
[Groans]
To be home tonight.
A brisk walk across the Boston Commons.
The bell in the Old North Church...
gently wafts its knell across the frozen pond.
Then later, to sit with Mother and Father and Honoria...
in the west wing...
sipping 100-year-old brandy.
And the servants standing by...
bathed in the light of the fire...
and the glow of utter civility.
Ah, Corporal, it is to weep.
Uh, listen, Major. I happen to know there is a present for you over there.
Uh, there is?
Well, it's probably just a gag gift from one of these cretinous yahoos.
Listen, fella. I've actually seen Santa Claus. I sat on his lap once.
- And I'm here to tell you you ain't him. - How can you tell, Virginia?
Well, in the first place, is that a brown mustache, or are you eating a mouse?
Listen, I don't cover up this mustache for nobody, fella. Buzz off.
Gee, whatever happened to "ho, ho, ho"?
- Socks! Just what I need! - Oh, look!
Terrific, Kellye.!
- Oh! - Klinger, it's beautiful.
A bed jacket. Oh, wait till the guys see this.
Here you go, sir. I hope you like it.
- Thank you, Radar. - You're welcome.
Very thoughtful of you, even if it should prove to be totally inappropriate.
Radar.
That's my old toboggan cap.
Yes, sir. I knew you weren't happy here, so I wrote your mother...
and asked her to send something that would make you feel more at home here.
Radar, you...
[Laughing] I don't know what to say.
Actually, it was Father Mulcahy's idea to write your mom.
- It was? - Uh-huh.
Oh!
The days this brings back.
The revelry.
Dear, simple days of childhood.
- Gee, I thought it was gonna make you feel happy. - [Laughs]
Excuse me.
Uh, Father?
Is there still time to, uh, contribute to your orphanage fund?
- Always. - Good.
Here.
Buy them whatever they need.
- Oh. Oh. - Here.
Buy them whatever they don't need.
Major?
- Are you all right? - [Laughing]
You saved me, Father.
You lowered a bucket into the well of my despair...
and you raised me up to the light of day.
- I thank you for that. - How'd I do that?
- [Laughing] - Oh. Oh, yes. It's lovely.
Thank you, Fa... You know...
I never had much use for men of the cloth.
They're so religious...
especially that Irish crowd in Boston... but you're different, Father.
You are a credit to...
uh, your kind of person.
Thank you, Major. I'll take that as a compliment.
Of course you will. That's how I meant it.
Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll raise your eggnogs, I'd like to propose a toast.
To someone who's too modest, too utterly simple a man...
to know how much strength he gives us just by the decency of his life among us...
- Father John Patrick Francis Mulcahy. - Hear, hear.
[Radar] Yea, Father.
Father, you may have noticed that on Sunday mornings we don't always make it to your services.
That's because we're usually trying to escape this place in a couple of hours of sleep.
But, as a result, you don't get to hear what really great voices we have.
So we planned a little song for you... "Dona Nobis Pacem."
If you want, I can translate that for you.
No need to. I say it every night before I go to sleep...
"Give us peace."
## [Singing]
##[All Singing]
## [Harmonizing]
## [Ends]
Amen.
- Hey, look! It's snowing! - Oh!
- [All Chattering] - [Woman] Ooh.! Ahh.!
Ohh.! Ahh.!
[Laughs] All of a sudden, this place is pretty.
[Vehicle Approaching]
Sorry, folks. They broke the truce.
- I got some Christmas presents for you. - All right, people.
Let's go. Merry Christmas.
[Mulcahy Narrating] You know, Sis, it doesn't matter whether you feel useful or not...
when you're moving from one disaster to another.
The trick, I guess, is tojust keep moving.