♪♪♪ (theme)
Anybody open?
One buck.
‐I call. ‐I'm in.
‐Call. ‐I'm in.
All right. Cards?
Three.
A‐one, a‐two, a‐three to you.
(chuckles)
Ha!
The great poker face.
Keep it up, you'll make Mount Rushmore.
Three.
Who deals these cards deals trash.
Father?
FATHER MULCAHY: Two, please.
One, two, buckle my shoe.
Father, I thought you were supposed to trust your fellow man.
Not when there's eight dollars in the collection plate.
Woodruff?
Four.
(laughs)
Come on. You'll give it away.
Klinger?
Three.
A face card and a deuce, huh, Klinger?
Come on!
Your nose is the mirror of your soul.
I'd like to use that sometime.
Oh, I'd be flattered.
Dealer takes three.
Hee‐hee‐hee.
‐Uh‐huh. Radar? ‐One buck.
A dollar to you, uh, Father.
Without even a peek...
I will raise it two dollars.
Special glasses?
The Vatican PX.
Three to you, Woody.
Call.
Garbage.
Two to you, Smiley.
Full house. Threes over deuces.
(groaning)
Boy, I must be ahead about 12 bucks.
I can buy my mom some more electrolysis.
The gift for the woman who has everything.
Well, I gotta go.
Sit down, laughing boy. I'm out 85.
Deal!
Daddy needs a new garter belt.
Gee, I'd like to play some more,
but I gotta fill out the morning report,
the monthly report,
type four letters for Colonel Potter,
and massage my gums.
It's almost midnight.
Uh, I'll see ya.
Thanks a lot for all the swell money.
I hate a guy who quits early when he's ahead.
Woody, when Radar says he's got work to do,
he means it.
If it weren't for that leprechaun,
4077 would be a license plate.
Well, I should go.
I promised Finch I'd stop by post‐op.
He's in for dysentery.
‐Ah, my favorite holiday. ‐How much you out, Father?
Sixteen.
Well, unlucky at cards, unlucky at love.
Yep.
There goes my new garter belt.
I'll have to hold up my stockings with Band‐Aids.
‐Ingenious. ‐Stings.
Pulls clumps of hair off my legs.
That's what those were.
I thought they were wounded rats.
I'm ready to pack it in. Time for beddy‐bye.
As us butch guys say at the front.
‐See you at breakfast. ‐Not me. It's porridge.
‐I found two eggs. ‐Under a snake.
Well, what do you say, Woodruff?
You owe me 85.
Uh, get ya next time.
‐How's that? ‐I ain't got it.
You should've gotten out of the game.
You owe me 35 from last week.
Guys, I got obligations. I also play poker at H. Q.
Good, 'cause you're not playing here anymore.
‐Oh, come on, guys. ‐No, forget it.
You stiffed us twice.
Oh, okay, okay. Look, don't‐don't get sore.
I, uh, got something better than money.
Yeah, your health. But I can't spend your health.
Look, I'm in charge of the I Corps mimeograph setup.
And I'm in charge of spleens and small intestines.
You guys know what comes out of mimeograph machines?
Waste paper?
Promotions.
I can promote you.
How would you like, uh, Major Hawkeye Pierce?
I'd rather be Dr. Pierce,
with a liquor store in front and surgery in back.
How about you?
You wanna be Major B. J. Hunnicutt?
(chuckles)
What's so funny?
Play this on your mimeograph machine.
Lieutenant Radar O'Reilly.
(B.J. chuckles)
(whistling)
‐Don't you ever salute, Corporal? ‐(glass shatters)
Well, anything for me?
Uh, just your aftershave lotion, sir.
You little poop!
You planned that whole salute!
(whistling)
(knocking)
HOULIHAN: Come.
It's me‐‐ ooh.
What?
Mail call, sir. Uh, ma'am.
Uh, that's a package from Lieutenant Colonel Penobscott,
your beloved betrothed‐to‐be.
I know who he is.
(inhales deeply) Oh!
Oh, that thoughtful darling!
He knows I love fine leathers.
A‐ha! Wahoo!
(screaming)
(whip snapping)
HOULIHAN: Yahoo!
I asked for communion wafers, and they sent me Ritz crackers.
Gee, I'm sorry, Father. Supply's mostly Presbyterian.
Well...
did they at least send the Biblical bookmarks?
Oh, yes, sir.
Um, it's, uh‐‐ it's athletic equipment.
You know, slingshots.
With a slingshot like that,
I think David could have slain two Goliaths.
Yeah.
‐(knocking) ‐Come in.
Mail call, Lieutenant Baker.
Radar...
why do you always leave so quickly?
Hit and run?
Well, you know how the mail is.
It doesn't wait for hail or sleet or rain,
or bad spark plugs, or whatever.
I think I'm caught in your towel.
‐Radar. ‐Hmm?
What about us?
‐You mean you and me, and you? ‐Mm‐hmm.
When are you gonna make a real delivery?
I left the mail on your bed.
Radar, how obvious can I be?
‐You can kiss me, if you want. ‐Oh, no, no, no.
I‐I don't think that would be very fair.
All is fair in love and war.
No, I mean I think I'm getting a strep throat.
Besides, you're an officer. I'd be happy to salute you.
Whoa, that stang!
♪ You oughta be in pictures wah‐wah ♪
♪ You're wonderful to see Wah wah‐wah ♪
‐Klinger. ‐My colonel?
Knock off the "wah‐wahs."
Yes, sir, but it's a group arrangement.
Just cut. And watch my wart.
In my hands, your wart is sacred.
‐(knocking) ‐Mail.
‐Anything for me? ‐Just junk mail.
‐Wanna sell your house? ‐We rent.
‐Then you didn't get any mail. ‐How did I do?
Pretty good, sir. You got a letter from your granddaughter.
Oh! Open it and read it.
Well, it might be personal.
What could a five‐year‐old kid write that's personal?
‐Oh, potty stuff and‐‐ ‐Read it!
Yes, sir.
♪ You oughta be in pictures ♪
BOTH: ♪ Wah‐wah ♪
‐"Dear Grandpa"... ‐Bright kid, for five.
Made toast at three.
I put milk on my cereal at four.
Good man. Go on.
"Mama says, 'How are you'? Mama says, 'I am fine.'
"Mama says, 'I hope you are fine too'.
"Mama says, 'Don't play with ashtrays
"'cause they're furniture.'
"O‐O‐O‐X‐X‐X."
‐That's hugs and kisses. ‐Oh.
Anything else?
Uh, yes, sir. This came from I Corps.
Read it.
(whistling)
"From: R. J. Meighan. Commanding Officer, I Corps.
"To: Sherman Potter, Commanding.
"Mobile Army Surgical Hospital 4077.
"Regarding the pro"...
POTTER: Well?
Take it easy, kid.
"Re: The promotion of O'Reilly, Walter, Corporal,
"3‐9‐1‐1‐8‐1‐0, to second lieutenant.
"U.S. Army Reserve."
Well, I'll be John Brown!
You've jumped from corporal, over sergeant,
to second lieutenant!
It must be a mistake. I'm just a kid.
No mistake. That's your serial number.
That's war. Crazy things happen.
Friend of mine was a plumber, one day,
and in charge of the Panama Canal, the next.
You son of a gun. Let me lay one on ya.
Aw, come on, Klinger. At ease.
‐You better get used to it, Lieutenant. ‐Oh, my gosh!
Keep one thing in mind, Herr Leutnant.
Be nice to us G. I. s.
You were an enlisted man yourself once. Remember.
Absolutely fan‐damn‐tastic!
I Corps probably heard you were doin' a great job, kid‐‐
Sir.
Well, I have been practicing on my spelling.
Did you hear about Radar?
His hamster win the Kentucky Derby?
He's a second lieutenant.
‐You're kidding! ‐No fooling!
Just can't figure it out. Does a good job.
Everything in triplicate. Sharpens my pencil every day.
Outgoing in the outgoing box. Incoming in the incoming box.
Who could ask for anything more?
But corporal to second lieutenant?
There's gotta be an answer.
A reward for heroism. Something.
Like throwing himself on a live grenade.
I saw him throw himself on a case of rotten Spam.
Ate the whole thing.
I'd like to see the boy get ahead, but it's so cockeyed.
‐Maybe Colonel Blake put him in for it. ‐And it just took time.
‐Yeah. ‐I'm gonna check with I Corps.
Oh, I wouldn't do that, Colonel.
Uh, you start, uh, challenging their decisions,
they get cranky.
I better check.
‐Um, uh, Woody. ‐Yeah.
The‐the guy to call is Master Sergeant Woodruff.
Know him personally?
Uh, his, uh, mother and mine were in the U. S. O.
Entertainers?
No, uh, jelly doughnuts.
I hate jelly doughnuts.
‐Radar! ‐Oh, he's, uh‐‐
‐Oh, the lieutenant is still delivering the mail. ‐Yeah.
How do you start this confounded thing?
‐That's a mystery. ‐Only two people can work that thing.
Radar and Sergeant Marconi.
Yeah, you'll never get him.
Hello? I Corps? Got him.
Oh, good.
POTTER: Master Sergeant Woodruff.
He's probably not there.
No, he's there.
Sergeant Woodruff.
Oh, yes, Colonel Potter.
4077 MASH. Yes, Colonel.
The O'Reilly promotion?
Oh, I'll, uh, I'll look it up, sir.
Yes, sir, I have it right here.
Uh, efficiency, punctuality,
and bugling over and above the call of duty.
Thank you, Sergeant.
‐The promotion's legitimate. ‐The promotion's legitimate.
‐Oh, really? ‐Bugling?
My horse can bugle better than him.
Maybe your horse is up for promotion, too.
‐From gelding to stud. ‐That'd be unusual.
Forty years in this man's army,
I've never seen a soldier promoted because of his lips.
If he could play tuba, he'd make colonel.
I'm just kidding, Colonel. Just, you know, joking.
Kagan.
Uh, I'm sorry.
Thanks.
This is mine.
That's mine.
Look at the mark. Can't you read Korean?
Tall man, black hair, snotty attitude.
This is yours. See?
Taller man, many teeth, use extra soap on shorts.
I resent that. You could eat off my shorts.
Hi, guys. Sirs.
Oh, dear, is it time for your rumba lesson?
No, I just come over to show you somethin'.
Don't tell me. You're growing sideburns.
Continental, yet depraved.
Come on. I don't have sideburns.
Look.
You're letting your armpits grow.
Look again.
Got a hickey?
Harder.
Hawkeye, Radar's a second lieutenant!
(chuckles)
I thought it was a laundry mark.
‐Congratulations! ‐Thanks a lot. It's a real surprise.
I'm tellin' ya, it just come right out of the blue.
Oh, I'm not surprised, the way you've been workin'.
Totin' that barge, liftin' that bale.
Not getting drunk and landin' in jail.
‐Had to happen. ‐It was in the cards.
(chuckles) Yeah.
What's he doing in officers' country?
Careful, Frank. Check the collar.
That's blasphemy.
You can be shot for impersonating an officer!
They haven't shot you yet, Frank.
Oh, don't sass me, fella! I'm turning him in.
You'll hang from the highest yardarm in this man's Army.
Frank, yardarm is Navy.
Gendarme is Army.
Sir, look.
I don't understand this.
A short, nearsighted, uneducated,
lower‐class clerk makes lieutenant?
That's Frank's way of saying "congratulations".
Oh, thank you, sir.
‐Now, O. R. Shortages. ‐"Shortages."Sulfa, I. V. Tubing, rubber gloves,
masks, sutures,
four‐oh silk.
You got that, Lieutenant O'Reilly?
Uh, yes, ma'am.
"Lieutenant O'Reilly." I'll never get used to that.
Me neither.
Jenkie bottoms, when I made corporal,
I broke out in hives.
Tell me the truth, O'Reilly.
Do you have a relative‐‐
distant relative who's maybe a general,
an admiral, big brass?
My Uncle Howard's a notary public.
Anybody can be a notary public.
He's also a dance instructor.
Nitwit.
Uh, okay, ma'am.
I'll go to supply and get this stuff.
Negative!
What‐a‐tive?
You are commissioned.
You do not perform menial tasks.
Designate authority, Lieutenant O'Reilly.
Get some enlisted men and start in Supply,
and take care of the O. R.
Yes, ma'am. Uh, ma'am?
Now what?
Is it okay if I try the officers' latrine?
Of course.
Oh, boy! "National Geographic!"
Okay, guys, up, up.
Oh, buzz off, O'Reilly.
‐Oh, come on. ‐Shove.
Hey, look, I hate to do this,
but, uh, I gotta give you an order.
You guys gotta take some stuff over to O. R.
Never fails, right, Igor?
You make a guy an officer, and he turns into a fink.
Ain't it the way?
Does he remember when you lent him that Oh Henry bar
‐for the movies? ‐Uh‐uh.
Does he remember all that good garbage you gave him
‐for his hamster? ‐Beats me.
‐Exactly. ‐Come on, Zale.
Just because a guy makes officer
doesn't mean you gotta walk all over him.
Look, I'm gonna tell you once more, Tiny Tim.
Shove.
Oh, yeah?
Okay!
I'll tell you what you do.
You take this and you fill that out.
Then you deliver it to O. R., okay?
And that's an order!
I'd really appreciate it. Thanks a lot, guys.
Radar.
Look, see?
I'm an officer now. I'm allowed to do that.
So I heard. And you're not allowed.
No, uh, ma'am, you remember when you caught me in your towel,
and you said you wanted to kiss me?
Well, it's legal now,
and I'd really like to try it at least once.
Lieutenant, you don't understand.
I love the underdog.
I used to root for the Saint Louis Browns.
What happened to you and me and you?
Lieutenant, you still don't understand.
You're no longer forbidden fruit.
‐I'm not? ‐Mm‐mm.
I'm confused.
You liked me. Now you don't like me?
MAN (on P. A.): Lieutenant O'Reilly, report to Colonel Potter.
Uh, Lieutenant, the colonel is paging you.
I mean, just because I got a new uniform?
‐I've got bars? ‐MAN: Radar!
That's‐‐ Ooh, that's me!
MAN: Report to Colonel Potter.
I'm not a clerk. I'm a medic.
Every time I answer the phone, I gotta take off an earring!
Maybe you shouldn't wear the earrings.
Just because you're a lieutenant
don't make you a fashion consultant.
Crazy Army.
Wish I could hear through my nose.
Well, is Klinger getting the hang of the job?
He's doing just fine, sir.
If you need me, I'll be lancing a boil.
Yes, sir.
Okay, let's get going, Klinger.
Call me "Corporal."
Why?
I have to call you "Lieutenant."
Not when we're alone. Criminies.
You know me, Lieutenant. I'm G. I., all the way.
I go by the book.
Wearing dresses?
But always in the best taste.
Let's get on with this stuff.
First, there's the radio.
See this switch here? That turns on the power.
‐See the little red light? ‐Cute.
Okay, now, I just wanna review for a second.
What's this little red light mean?
Tinker Bell's alive?
Come on. Be serious!
Jeez, when I'm out doing second lieutenant stuff,
you're in charge here.
Joy to the world.
(sighs) All right now, look.
This whole thing also runs the P. A. System, right?
Now watch me, please,
because I'm‐I'm gonna make an announcement, okay?
This‐this switch here, you switch to P. A.
See?
Okay, now you pick this up. You hold it like this.
All right?
Now before you talk or anything, you test it.
You blow.
(blowing air)
Announcement coming over.
If the war's over,
meet me under the clock at Grand Central in 10 years.
We'll go dancing.
I lead.
Then you buy.
RADAR (on PA): This is just a test.
Testing, testing. Five, four...
If I'd known there was gonna be a test today,
I'd have studied.
RADAR (on PA): Testing, testing.
See? Okay, now, why don't you try one.
‐(blowing) ‐No, no, no, no,
that's too wet. You'll get it all rusty.
‐How'd the boil go, Sherm? ‐Gangbusters.
You call the old man Sherm?
Oh, sure, officers always call each other by their first name.
‐What'd you call me? ‐Colonel, sir, colonel.
He's a little cranky when he, uh, lances a boil.
Here, now you try an announcement.
‐Like what? ‐Oh, the movie tonight.
Here, just read what's on this paper.
Will this make me a star?
Aw, come on. Stop horsin' around.
Attention, all personnel.
Hold it.
‐Now what? ‐You forgot to blow.
‐(blowing) ‐No, no, don't spit. Blow.
I'm Lebanese.
We're full of the juices of life!
Attention, all personnel.
The movie for tonight, "One Ticket to Broadway,"
starring Lyle Bennett,
Mitzi Price, Leonard W. Grossman,
And Teddy, the Wonder Lizard.
Come on! There's no lizard in there.
Will you stop foolin' around?!
There's no lizard in that picture.
That was "Two Lizards to Broadway."
Oh, for Pete's sakes, Klinger, can't you do anything right?
Get off my back, Lieutenant!
You're just jealous!
I hope you choke on them bars!
Oh, yeah? Let's do a test!
(blowing)
Too wet! (blowing)
You're right!
(blowing)
Halt! Who goes there?
Lieutenant Walter O'Reilly.
‐Hey, wait a minute‐‐ ‐Password.
‐Where's Igor? ‐Wrong.
Igor, for Pete's sake, get up. Come on.
What's the matter?
You're on guard duty.
You could be shot!
Why, did the kid fall asleep?
What if an officer caught you?
HOULIHAN: An officer did.
What is this child doing with a rifle?
‐Password. ‐Oh, shut up.
Wrong again.
Put this man on report, Lieutenant O'Reilly.
Now, you see the trouble you got me into?
Lucky for you I wasn't asleep.
They'd have shot you. Fink.
Look at this.
"R.J. Hardlidge has been named nudist of the year."
‐Great credentials. ‐(knocking)
Entre vous.
A born head waiter.
‐Sirs? ‐What do you want, shavetail?
Uh, sir, I‐I wanna talk to the captains.
You little snip.
You just wanna talk about me behind my back, don't you?
No, sir, I wanna talk about me, sir, behind my back.
Frank, will you excuse us?
I'm plucking the hair from my mole.
Do it Sunday. I'll serve cocktails.
Come on, Frank. Beat it.
Nerts.
HAWKEYE: Why don't you go talk to Margaret?
You know, I think I saw Margaret out walking before.
With her whip.
Wearing boots.
Gee, maybe she wants to be friends again.
I thought he'd never leave.
What's up, motorman?
Hawkeye...
(sighs) I got a big problem.
You're chafing again. I told you, keep dry.
And plenty of talcum.
No, no, no, it's up here. I'm goin' loony.
Insanity is just a state of mind.
What's up?
Well, you know, the first time somebody salutes you,
it's really swell.
But now... jeez, Zale hates me.
Igor hates me. Klinger really hates me.
I mean, holy cow.
I'm not one of the guys anymore.
And I don't fit in with the officers, either.
When I was enlisted, I kept wishin' I was an officer.
Now I'm an officer, and I hate it.
The brass is always greener.
Klinger's got my old job,
and he's spitting in the microphone.
Puts the red folders with the blue folders.
He made a choker out of my typewriter ribbon.
And, jeez, I'm so lonesome.
All I got is...
‐Your teddy bear? ‐Yeah.
Would you like to be an enlisted man again?
Can you guys do that?
We're doctors. It's an easy operation.
Simply have somebody remove your bars.
How low would you like to get busted?
No lower than corporal.
That way, I can keep up the payments
on my mom's electrolysis.
Good thinking.
Cheer up, soldier. Your demotion is in the bag.
Congratulations. You're no longer a gentleman.
Can I take these off now?
No, I wouldn't. Uh, you could get in trouble.
An officer impersonating an enlisted man.
Yeah.
‐Hawkeye, thank you. ‐It's okay, Radar.
‐Thank you, B. J. ‐Sure.
Gee, how can I ever thank you?
Well, you can give us your firstborn.
And an order of fries.
‐You know any fast girls? ‐You know any slow ones?
Mmm... oh, boy.Like it?
Oh, yes, it's really swell.
Except I'm sweating all over the mail.
I have to go on duty now.
I'll, uh, see you tomorrow.
Right.
Well, what if you don't get any mail?
Wing it, stud.
Okay.
‐So? So? What happened? ‐Aw, come on.
What, uh, what did you do in there?
First base? Second? Third? Home plate?
Come on! I don't kiss and tell.
Aw, he struck out.
(indistinct chatter)
♪♪♪ (theme)