[Margaret] Hurry. We can finish this hand before the chopper gets here.
[Hawkeye] "Hot Streak" Houlihan strikes again.
[Klinger] Four... And deal fast, my money misses me.
[Margaret] Kiss your cash good-bye, Corporal.
May he who brings the flowing waters to the parched desert...
grant me a small pair of aces.
May the mother of your camel spit in your yogurt.
Dealer takes one. Here he comes.
[Hawkeye] Ah, bah. Pass.
- [Margaret] Hunnicutt, bet. He's coming closer. - [B. J.] Fifty.
Call. What do you got?
- Well, let's see. Four, five... - Lay them down!
- Eight, 10, queen... Beat that. - [Laughing]
- Fours and sevens. - [Laughs]
Hold it! Hold it! All bets are off. The chopper's landing.
Not until the skids hit the dirt, buster! Three deuces!
[Hawkeye] Oh! How about that? Let's go!
Save my money, Klinger!
Better check him first. Battalion Aid says he's got an open chest wound.
- How is he? - Respiratory distress.
The blood's pouring through the pressure bandage.
We better get him into O.R. Fast.
He's not gonna make it to O.R.
I think he's got a lacerated aorta.
I can't get in there. You got a knife?
- I got a pocketknife. - Let me have it.
- What are you doing? - As soon as I get my hand in there...
I'm going to compress the aorta against his spinal column and try to stop the bleeding.
- All right. I think I got it. - Jeep!
If we cut off the blood to his spinal cord for more than 20 minutes...
he stands a good chance of winding up paralyzed.
What time is it?
1432, sir.
All right. Let's go.
Swing around there. Come back this way. Come all the way back this way.
- I got ya. - All right. Push me up.
- How's the other guy? - Fractured tibia. He'll be all right.
- How's his breathing? - Not too bad yet...
but when we get to O.R., he's going to need to be ventilated.
Hold these guys down and go like hell. We haven't got much time.
Roy, AB-negative. Go to the blood bank. Get all you can.
- Yes, sir. - Margaret, we're gonna need the large vascular clamps.
I'll have them waiting for you.
How about you pack him in ice? Hypothermia might reduce the chance of paralysis.
- Yeah. Klinger! Go get my canvas bathtub... - Yo!
- And bring all the ice you can find. - My feet are like wings.
- How bad is it? Can you tell? - No, I can't tell...
until I get inside and get a look at it.
Better be prepared for the worst.
- Kellye, get that bottle of arterial grafts. - Right away, Doctor.
Isn't this great, huh? What luck.
I haven't held anything good in my hand all day.
I need some help here. Somebody get on this!
- [Jet Flying Overhead] - [Chattering]
Swing around. Somebody get those doors inside.
- Table two. Margaret, give me those vascular clamps. - I can't find them!
- Hurry up! My fingers are cramping. - There's no AB-negative.
- I brought O-positive. - I hate to give him too much...
uncrossmatched blood, especially a different type.
- You can only give him what you got. - Hang the first two units.
- Margaret, the clamps! - Better hurry, Margaret...
before the numbness in his brain reaches his fingers.
- Wait a minute. Those clamps are in the Swamp. - Yeah, yeah, yeah.
What the hell are they doing in the Swamp'?
Those things are irreplaceable, Margaret.
- We wanted to keep them somewhere safe. - Where are they?
They're in my footlocker under the Journal of Competitive Nudity...
between the shorts with the holes and the can of Norwegian kippers.
Those are my kippers, you animal.
- The iceman cometh. - Put it behind me.
Let's move this table forward.
Get it right up against my legs, behind my legs.
- That's all the ice you got? - I'm sorry. I'm a desert person.
Get his midsection. Step right in the tub.
That's right. Now step... Step through.
Get his head and shoulders flat... Right on the floor.
Klinger, we're gonna need more ice.
- Try the Officers Club. - I'll be back in a trice with the ice.
- Trice? - Fifteen ways to a better vocabulary, Major.
The keystone to executive advancement is enhanced by good verbiage.
Funk and Wagnall are whirling dervishly in their mausoleum.
- Great verbiage, Charles. - I'm on day 14.
[Groaning]
He's waking up! Get him bagged down! Get him on the table.
[Groans Subside]
Okay, where's the ice?
- That's all you got? - A lot of business in here today.
These guys are leaving tonight They're trying to get loaded before the bus does.
- We'll take what you got. - Hey, wait a minute.
I can't sell drinks without ice. You can taste the booze that way.
We need it for the O.R. Come on, Frank.
- How you doing, Hawk? - Freezing my phalanges.
- I brought the arterial grafts, Doctor. - Let me see them.
No, these are too small.
If too much of the aorta is gone, we're gonna be in big trouble.
Well, this one's pretty big.
That's no bigger than spaghettini. We need rigatoni.
- Spoken like a true meatball surgeon. - Rigatoni?
Doctor, I'm part Chinese and part Hawaiian.
Can you put that in ethnic measurements I can understand?
- A small egg roll. - That I understand. We don't have any that big.
I know we don't. We took so many grafts from so many guys who didn't make it.
How could we not take an aorta?
[Man On P.A.] Ambulance in the compound.
Surgeons not otherwise occupied needed for triage. Tout de suite, please.
My hands are kinda full. Would you answer the door?
- Kellye, take over for me. - Right.
- Keep cool. - [Groans]
Okay, this is it. Down to the last cube.
Dump it in.
[Screams] Margaret, the clamps!
- Relax, I found them. - Well, bring 'em over before my hand falls off.
What do you mean, "Bring 'em over"? They're soaking in alcohol.
I've had my unsterilized hand in this man's body for the past ten minutes.
What kind of a nurse do you think I am?
I'm not going to let an instrument go from your dirty sock to that man's heart!
Your hand will last a few seconds more.
Somebody heat me up! Stick me in a toaster! Set my pants on fire!
- [Shivers] - Yeah, that's what I say.
Excuse me, Father.
Did you do the tracheotomy, Colonel?
Yeah, but it won't help. His head injury is much too severe.
Pupils are fixed and dilated.
Blood pressure's up, pulse is coming down.
- He's not going to make it. - I'm afraid not.
There's nothing else we can do here. You better finish up, Father.
Right.
- What else you got? - Just a superficial belly wound.
Will you take him? I'd like to stay with this boy.
What for? There's nothing you can do.
Hawkeye's got a kid in O.R. Who may be missing part of his aorta.
- You want to take a graft from him? - Right.
All right. I'll take the belly wound.
How old do you think he is, about 18?
Father, will you tell Hawkeye I may have an aorta for him in five or 10 minutes?
Right.
Are you all right, B. J.?
Yeah.
I feel helpless just waiting for this boy to die.
It's not what I was trained for.
I'll tell Hawkeye.
[Man] Hey, Doc.!
How is he? Is he gonna be all right?
He's in pretty bad shape. There's nothing we can do.
Well, you gotta do something.
You can't just let him die. You're a doctor.
Look...
Look, Roberts, it's out of my hands.
As much as I'd like to, there are some things I can't fix.
You gotta save him. Please!
Get him inside.
Don't let him die!
Hawkeye, B. J. Says you should have an aorta in a few minutes.
- Yeah? How few? - He's got a casualty who is comatose...
- Pupils fixed and dilated. - I hope B. J.'s right. He could stay alive for hours.
Here they are. I hope they're clean enough...
Kellye, keep pumping blood.
We're going to lose a lot real quick getting these clamps on.
We're running low on blood.
The chopper may have a few units. I'll go check it out.
Pierce, if you use all our blood on one quixotic case...
what are you going to do if we're suddenly inundated with even more casualties?
Klinger, get off my back and get on the radio.
- See if there's any fighting going on. - Gotcha.
Soon as I get these clamps in place, let's get the chest open, see what's going on in there.
Margaret, put on some gloves. I need some assistance right now.
I hate this. I haven't even scrubbed.
Well, let's just think clean thoughts.
Is he dead, B. J.?
He's still holding on, Father.
We're moving him to pre-op, so I can take the graft the minute he goes.
Dear God, I've never asked you for this before...
and I don't know what you're going to think of me for asking now...
but if you're going to take him anyway, please take him quickly...
so we can save the other boy.
[Ticking]
Look, Captain, I gotta know.
Is there any action in your area?
[Captain] I can only release that information...
to your commanding officer.
My C.O. Is in surgery! He can't come to the radio.
- Sorry, Corporal. - W-W-Wait a minute!
Um, here he comes now!
[Imitating Potter] What in the name of Sweet Fanny Adams is going on here?
Can we expect casualties or not?
- Colonel Potter, that you? - You bet your horse's heinie.
- Everything is quiet, Colonel. - Good.
Now, the next time you get a call from Corporal Klinger, cooperate!
When you're talking to him, you're talking to me.
Yes, sir. Sorry, Colonel.
Now, while I have you on the phone, is there anything you boys have to trade?
Ever get any baklava?
All right, take him into post-op.
- How goes it over here, Pierce? - Damned aorta's totally shot.
There's no way we can get by without a graft.
That's messy, isn't it?
I'm going to cut this segment away and get ready for a graft.
You do that and you've committed yourself. What if you don't get a graft?
- He can't live without an aorta. - Well, what other choice do I have?
Patch it with one of the arterial grafts.
Charles, his aorta is a piece of hamburger.
It can't be repaired.
- I suggest you prepare for a graft. - There's an idea.
Pickups and scissors. I hope you're right, Charles.
Terrific phone call! No fighting in the area.
The only thing due in the next 24 hours...
is a case of scotch and three dozen baklava.
- How did you get that? - They were very cooperative...
[Imitating Potter] Once I explained who I was.
You all right? You sound like a donkey in heat.
- Post nasal drip, sir. - Oh.
I hear you might be doing an aortic graft.
I'd better be doing one. I just removed a bit hunk of his aorta.
- How long's it been clamped? - I don't know, 15 or 16 minutes.
Make it snappy. A few more minutes, he'll be paralyzed or die of renal failure.
- You're telling me. How's his pressure? - Still down, Doctor.
- Give him another unit. - This is our last one, Doctor.
We'll have to tap somebody in the camp. What's his blood type?
- AB-negative. - He'll be better off with his own brand.
- Anybody here got it? - I have a large supply...
of that very special type.
I can let you have a pint.
- Charles, lie down and start bleeding. - Just a second.
I'm not so sure about that. When's the last time you gave a pint, Winchester?
- Five days ago. - He's just in it for the money, Colonel.
Five days ago! I've got enough dizzy surgeons around here.
I don't want one passing out on me.
Sir, the Winchesters have always given blood in times of crisis...
starting with the Revolutionary War.
- They gave to both sides. - [Scoffs]
All right, but give him fluid at the same time.
I don't want his volume to get too low.
I didn't think Charles could get any lower.
Pierce, I'm giving you my blood.
Try to wag a civil tongue, will you?
Reeking as it does of my Norwegian kippers.
Be gentle with me.
Can you save him, Doc?
No, I can't save him, Roberts. There's nothing we can do.
What're you doing to him? What's he doing with that stuff?
Roberts, your friend is dying...
and it doesn't make any sense...
but maybe there's some good that can come out of it.
What do you mean? What good?
Hawkeye says soon as you get the graft, put it in this and rush it to the O.R.
- Get lost, Klinger. - Okay, but Hawkeye wants to know as soon as he's dead.
Will you shut up and get out of here?
I hope I didn't say anything wrong.
You bastard.
You've just been waiting to use him.
You don't care who he is or anything about him.
He's just a piece of meat to you.
Listen, Roberts.
There's a boy in the O.R. Who's gonna die because part of the artery...
that comes out of his heart has been shot away.
What makes that guy more important than Harold Sherwood?
You gotta understand this. Most of your friend's brain is gone.
He stopped being Harold Sherwood when that shell hit him in the head.
He's been dead for half an hour.
- His heart just didn't know enough to stop beating. - B. J...!
His breathing is very irregular.
He won't be with us much longer.
Gwen, finish prepping Roberts out in the hall.
Wait a minute! Take me over there.
- I want to be with him when he dies. - Roberts, please!
Damn it! Just take me over there. I want to say good-bye to him.
Wheel him over.
[Gasping, Gagging]
[Sobbing]
In his pocket, there's a picture of me and him in Tokyo. I want it.
Here you are.
Okay, get me out of here.
Let's get the graft.
I observed this operation once.
Be sure you have two clean, viable ends.
Make certain you leave yourself with absolutely strong tissue.
Charles, it won't be necessary to tell us the incredibly obvious.
The merely obvious will do fine.
Okay, we've got two clean, viable ends.
Now all we need is a graft to stick in the middle.
I want a longer segment. Give me more retraction.
- How's that? - That's better. Smooth pickups.
All right, now give me the pan.
That's it.
- Okay, I got it. - Great. Put on some gloves.
- Margaret, rinse the graft in heparin. - Right.
- You have any trouble getting it? - No problem.
- What took so long? - The guy it was attached to was still using it.
I'm sorry. I forgot what you were going through out there.
- Here's the graft, Doctor. - First you complete the upper anastomosis.
And then you size it. You have... [Winces]
Have to have an exact fit.
- Okay, let's sew! - Three-oh silk all around.
Oh, by the way, mattress sutures are preferable.
No time. First we get the circulation reestablished...
and then we make it neat.
- His name was Harold. - Who?
The kid who gave us this aorta.
Oh. Harold, meet George.
George, this is Harold.
I hate these people, Father.
Don't be bitter, son. They're trying to save a man's life.
God, he was such a good guy. He was so innocent.
That's why we called him Harold.
We tried calling him Harry a couple times, but it just didn't seem to fit.
It's such a terrible waste, isn't it?
He was the best guy in the outfit, Father.
No matter how bad things got, you could always count on him.
Isn't it enough he died? Did they have to cut him up like that?
Son, let me ask you something.
Harold sounds like the kind of a man who gave ofhimself.
Do you think he could've thrown himself on a grenade to save someone else?
Sure he would. He wouldn't even think about it.
Even if he didn't know the other person?
- Sure. - Well...
that's what he's doing now.
[Slurring] Uh, don't hold the edges of the graft too roughly...
because you might damage the inte...
Speak up, Charles. You're mumbling.
I think that blood we're getting is coming directly from his brain.
[Chuckles]
There's one other thing.
It's very important... You mustn't forget...
[Mutters, Moans]
Good night, sweet prince.
- How's it going, boys? - The graft's almost in. I think we might make it.
- Good. What's with him? - [Hawkeye] He gave his all.
Well, some people get to "all" faster than others.
Put him on the first table and get the screen in here.
- Hey, Doc. Is it gonna work? - I think so.
When he wakes up, I want to talk to him.
- I want to tell him about Harold. - That sounds like a good idea.
Thanks, Roberts.
[Potter] We're going to put you to sleep now, son.
- Do a good job, Doc. - You bet your boots.
- [Air Pumping] - Okay, speed up the blood.
I'm taking the clamps off. Get some lap sponges ready in case it leaks.
- They're ready. - Here goes.
Pack it! Pack it! Put pressure on it. Suction.
His pressure's going down, Doctor.
- Pump the blood in faster. - Put the clamp back on.
I don't want to stop the circulation again.
- Can you sew it while it's bleeding? - Give me a needle.
Okay, take the sponges off.
Take it all the way off.
- Easy. - Suction. I can't see what I'm doing!
Okay. Here you go.
I think one more and I got it.
Come on.
- Okay, you've got it. - Okay.
- Nifty knitting. - Suction. Thank you.
- Still a few small leaks. - Yeah, I don't think it's anything serious.
Let's pack it off for five or ten more minutes...
and then, uh, then we'll fix it later.
I want to keep that blood flowing to the kidneys and spinal cord.
Congratulations, partner.
- Pour in the antibiotics. - Kellye, time.
It's 2:55 and 25 seconds.
We're three and a half minutes over, damn it!
Maybe the hypothermia bought us some time.
Yeah. On the other hand, maybe it didn't.
Hawk, we saved his life.
Yeah, well I guess that's something.
It's more than something. It's everything.
[Air Pumping]
[Sighs]
[Ticking Stops]
Why don't you take it easy for a while? I'll check your patient for you.
Thank you, no. A Winchester never accepts charity.
Charles, you just gave some blood. Take it easy.
Pierce, I shall do my rounds...
in 30 or 40 minutes.
Ciao.
Doctors, he's coming around.
- George, can you hear me? - Hello, George!
- Uncover his feet. - Got 'em.
George, wiggle your toes. George?
Harold, are you in there?
Maybe he's just not awake enough yet.
Hey! Come on! Wiggle your toes.
- Please! - Come on, damn it. Wiggle!
- [Cheering] - All right!
[Laughing]
We did it! We did it! Do you know what we did?
We made a guy who's part George and part Harold.
- And part Winchester. - That's right.
When he wakes up, he won't know whether to be brave, generous or pompous.