[Chattering]
Hang some plasma here and prep his chest, stat.
We'll squeeze you in, but next time try to make an appointment.
Leg wound, Doctor. Could be a fracture.
Well, well. A diagnosis from young Dr. Houlihan.
- I was just trying to help. - Then leave the diagnosis to me, huh?
[Clears Throat]
All right, get him to X-ray.
Leg wound. Possible fracture.
[Chattering]
What's the story here? I thought we had the night off.
I bet they weren't planning on this either. They're all combat engineers.
We finished the pontoon bridge...
just in time for the North Koreans to use it for mortar practice.
Huh. A bridge that takes its own toll.
[Yawning]
The most difficult operation I performed all night...
was sewing my eyelids open.
I was treating a kid who had been shot four times...
and he saw me and he said...
"Boy, Doc, you look terrible."
- [Groans] - Something the matter, Winchester?
Mm, no, no, no, no, no. Everything's just peachy.
I'm going to drink my coffee as soon as the spoon dissolves.
He's been a gloomy Gus all night.
- Sequel to being a sourpuss all day. - [Groans]
What's going on there, Winchester? You got a little twinge in your tusk?
Oh, no. Everything's fine. Nothing wrong with my mouth.
- Then try to keep a civil tongue in it. - Try keeping yours shut.
See? I knew he couldn't stay in a bad mood forever.
Excuse me. Have you seen Colonel Potter?
I'm afraid I have.
- You must be Colonel Potter. - At this time of the night, I'll take your word for it.
Major Weems, 358 Combat Engineers.
Aha. I believe a number of your boys just signed our guest book.
- In blood, unfortunately. - How are they doing?
Well, the returns aren't all in yet, but it looks like they're gonna pull through.
Yeah. We got pounded pretty bad again.
You fellas ought to think about relocating your business.
- I hear Florida's nice. - [Chuckles]
I couldn't agree with you more. Thank you.
I told Command this bridge wasn't worth all the casualties.
Their response: "Strategically imperative until operationally rescinded."
Mm. Direct from the double-talk room of the Pentagon.
- Do you want some coffee, Major? - Yeah. Thanks.
You think I could see my men now?
You came to see your men at 3:00 in the morning?
I know it's late, but these, uh, men are special to me.
They need their sleep. I'll bet you do too.
How about at the first cock-a-doodle?
- There's a spare bunk in our tent. - Sold.
No.
[Groans]
I believe you've already met Major Winchester...
our official ambassador of bad will.
- Not officially. How do you do, Major? - [Gasping]
A simple "hello" would do.
Don't mind him. He's not having a toothache.
That's your bunk over there. You like your mattress with one lump or two?
Oh, that's a big step up from a foxhole.
I haven't had a day off in five months.
If you want a couple of days' rest...
we'll be glad to put you down for 48 hours' worth of 24-hour flu.
Oh, that's tempting.
The only trouble is, I feel guilty sleeping in a bed...
when the only way my men get one is by getting wounded.
You know, Major, we don't often bump into combat officers...
who have time to visit their wounded.
I've always thought there was more to being a C. O...
than just barking out orders.
Oh, I better sack out. See you in the morning.
Yeah, we'll leave a wake-up call for peacetime.
Night.
[Charles Groaning]
Beej, don't forget... In the morning, it's your turn to milk Charles.
- Increase his morphine to a quarter grain. - Yes, Doctor.
[Groans] By the way...
has the elixir of codeine arrived yet?
- It just came in this morning. - Good.
Are you going to give him codeine on top of morphine?
If I want another doctor's opinion...
I will call for Nurse Houlihan.
- Morning, Doc. - I don't want to talk about it.
Believe me, you're better off.
- How's he doing? - He's gonna be okay. He should be coming around soon.
I'm sorry this had to happen, son...
and I'm going to see to it that it doesn't happen again.
You're going home.
Uh, he's not hurt that badly.
I'd go easy with the "going home" talk.
How's Sturdivant doing?
He wasn't as lucky. He got hammered pretty hard.
How soon before I get him back?
You won't. From here he goes to the 121 st evac.
Before he knows it, he'll be stateside...
- looking for himself in the newsreels. - Are you sure?
He's a crackerjack heavy-equipment man.
Yeah, well, I'm sorry, but there's no place...
to hang an I.V. On a bulldozer.
You'll be getting Dorsey back.
Well, wait a minute. This isn't a trade-off.
After what Dorsey's been through, he's earned a trip home too.
Come... Come here.
Look, as far as I'm concerned, everybody who's not Korean ought to go home...
but Dorsey just doesn't qualify medically.
- Captain, give the kid a break. - Major, he's not that seriously wounded.
All right, Captain, I'll tell you why I'm concerned.
Corporal Dorsey's from a very poor family.
He's an only child, and it's a real hardship on his parents...
not to have him working on their farm.
All right. L... I'll see what I can do.
Thanks.
I had a feeling I could count on you.
Ah!
What have you got there, Major?
Margaret, how nice being sneaked up on by you.
What was that that you just put in your pocket there?
- My hand. See? - I saw you with a bottle of medicine.
Aha. Formerly a doctor, now a detective.
I'm in charge of the inventory here...
and if you don't hand over that bottle, I'll have to report you.
Bottle... Oh, yeah. You must mean this.
It's merely a pharmaceutical aperitif for one of my patients.
I saw you take a drink, Major.
Major, it won't hold up in court.
- It's your tooth, isn't it? - Aha! Now you're a dentist.
No, I'm not a dentist, but how long has it been since you've seen one?
As it happens, I had a thorough examination...
complete with X-rays... a mere seven years ago.
I remember it as though it were yesterday.
- You're afraid, aren't you? - Pure piffle!
Woman, a Winchester can stare adversity square in the mouth...
even when it involves techniques...
which have remained unimproved since the Spanish Inquisition.
But rest assured, I am not afraid.
Charles, this is the '50s. There is novocaine.
Come on, stop being such a baby and go see a dentist.
Margaret, I have had minor aches before...
and I know from experience this will pass.
I can see this is a lost cause.
Thank you for giving up on me.
Margaret, now please, not a word about this to anyone, huh?
Since you're so certain this too shall pass...
you won't be needing these anymore.
[Stammering] Where are you going with that?
Uh, well, all you need is a little time.
That bottle you have in your pocket should last, oh, a couple of days.
- Isn't that right? - Absolutely.
Probably I won't even finish this one.
- [Chuckles] - Fine.
[Groans]
You should have been in the paratroopers, Dorsey.
I've never seen anyone who can jump so well.
I got lucky. Come on, I'll give you another chance.
No, I have to be going.
We'll continue the massacre tomorrow.
Sure thing, Father.
Increase the dosage to 20,000 units.
How's Sturdivant doing?
No improvement. Looks like Dorsey's doing better.
Well enough to beat the pants off me four times.
And I thought you were the king of"kinging."
Oh, I'm afraid the king is dead.
- Hey, Father? - Yeah?
What would you think of recommending Dorsey for a hardship discharge?
Why? What's the problem?
Well, his family's pretty strapped, and they need him to help out.
Yes, I can imagine it isn't easy...
- with all those mouths to feed. - What mouths?
He just showed me a picture of his family in Brooklyn.
He's got five little brothers and sisters.
Anyway, yes, I'll speak to him in the morning.
Well, wait, wait. Let's not be too hasty.
There's a few things I want to check out first.
Your, uh... Your checkers patsy...
tells me you're from Brooklyn.
Yeah, that's right.
I had a friend in med school from Brooklyn.
He came from... I think it was... McDonald Avenue.
- Yeah, that's in Flatbush. - What about you?
I'm from Bed-Stuy... Bainbridge Street.
Your family still there?
Yeah, all seven of them. Why?
Is there any reason why your C.O. Would think you live on a farm?
- You been talking to my C.O.? - You're a pretty lucky soldier. He seems like a terrific guy.
Oh, you think so, huh? Well, I guess everybody's entitled to their own opinion.
What's the matter? You have a problem with him?
[Sighs]
My only problem is that I'm tired.
Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'd like to turn in.
You got a C.O. Who wants to send a kid home...
so much so he's willing to lie about it...
and not only is the kid not grateful...
he doesn't even like Weems.
Maybe Dorsey's a malcontent, and Weems wants to ship him out.
No, no, no, no. Speaking as a malcontent, he didn't strike me as the type.
So, what if Weems feels guilty because he got the kid shot?
If that were the case, he'd want to drive Sturdivant home personally.
- He wants to keep Sturdivant. - Sturdivant? He's the white kid, isn't he?
How could it be racial? It doesn't even make sense.
Sending Dorsey home is the biggest favor he could do for him.
[Man On P.A.] Attention. Attention, all personnel.
Incoming wounded. No surgeon should be without one.
I'll be right there. I'm in the shower!
At least you won't have to scrub.
They knocked the bridge out again.
Combat engineers?
[Man] Yeah. Three more.
[Groaning]
Oh, uh, I'm looking for Mr. Jong.
I am he... And you are who?
I'm Major Charles Emerson Winchester, the neighborhood MASH.
Our mutual friend Rosie, of Rosie's Bar, referred me to you.
Oh, yes, Rosie. Fine woman.
- Any friend of hers is a customer of mine. - Oh.
Uh, Rosie said that you cured her of lumbago.
What did you give her for it?
Oh, mixture of ginseng, powdered deer horn and other secret herbs.
Mm. It's a very interesting place you have here.
Most, uh, medical facilities are so sterile.
Oh, thank you. Now, why have you come to me?
[Clears Throat] Rosie said you work wonders with all kinds of pain.
I have a throbbing problem with my tooth.
- Have you seen a dentist? - No. I ha... No.
That's precisely why I've come to you.
You use no instruments of any kind, is that correct?
All I use is what you see.
Only products of nature.
Secrets herbs and roots.
Hmm. It's just... It's just fascinating.
- What does this, uh, cure? - Hunger. That's my dinner.
- Oh. - Now, let me see.
Hmm. Toothache.
Toothache. Toothache.
- Here. - Now you take this home.
- Yeah? - And put in one quart boiling water.
- One quart... Yeah. - Cook for half hour.
- Uh-huh. - Drink one cup every hour.
Uh-huh. Uh, yeah. Okay.
What's in here?
Mixture of ginseng, powdered deer horn and other secret herbs.
Oh.
Uh, that's what you gave Rosie for lumbago.
You notice, Rosie's tooth also never hurt.
Well, you're sure this will work?
I stake my reputation on it.
And when tooth is okay, you come back.
I give you something to grow hair.
[Groans]
Twenty-six out of 40?
Thanks a lot, Barney. Any time you need anything...
Sorry, can't help you there. You gotta talk to the nurses directly.
That's it. We're all out of MASHes.
Okay, what do you got?
Bingo. Only 11%% of Weems's unit are Negroes.
They suffer 46%% of the casualties.
There were better odds in Uncle Tom's Cabin.
- I actually liked that guy. - He fooled everybody.
All the medical units I talked to...
said what a great guy Major Weems is.
Always came to visit his wounded.
This guy is giving the army two faces for the price of one.
[Groans]
Ah, mashed potatoes, huh, Major?
- Now there's a meal you can sink your teeth into. - [Chuckles]
[Whimpers]
Winchester, are you in excruciating pain...
or are you just being yourself?
L... I merely slept wrong, sir. It's my jaw.
If you don't get that chopper checked, it'll abscess...
and I'll be out one surgeon.
Sir, I swear to you, there's absolutely nothing wrong.
- You're lying through what's left of your teeth. - I am not.
- In that case, I owe you an apology. - I accept.
Back where I come from, when one man wrongly accuses another...
he is expected to atone for it...
and seeing as how the cook...
slipped his old C.O. A preview of Sunday's dessert...
the least I can do is pass it on to you.
You like ice cream, Winchester?
- Oh, gee. No, sir, I couldn't. - Why not?
Because my mother never let me have dessert...
- until I'd finished all my vegetables. - Well, well.
Seeing as I outrank Mommy, eat this.
I'd love to.
Oh! It's strawberry. It gives me hives.
We'll top it off with some calamine lotion.
- Now start shoveling. - But, Colonel, l...
Present... spoon!
Mmm.
- Satisfied? - Well, I'll be darned.
If you'll excuse me, Colonel.
I think I've had enough. Good afternoon, sir.
Gentlemen.
- Colonel. - I guess that molar's on the mend.
- [Charles Screaming] - That tears it.
- I'm getting him a dentist right now. - Wait a minute, Colonel.
We've got something a little more painful to deal with.
[Groans]
- Sure is a nice night. - Mm-hmm.
Except right here.
Smells like somebody held chemistry class in a sweat sock.
- Mm-hmm. - [Charles Groans]
- Keep it down to a dull moo, Charles. - [Potter] Evening, boys.
See you're just sitting and rocking on the front porch tonight.
- Yeah. - Have a crate.
- Don't mind if we do. Major? - Thank you.
[Charles Groans]
Whew! Little gamy around here.
Haven't smelled anything this bad since Rosie had lumbago.
Major, I'll bet you're here to see how your latest casualties are doing, huh?
We just came from post-op. Covington doesn't look good at all.
The chest wound? Yeah, he took a lot of shrapnel.
I think he'll pull through and he'll be... He'll be on his way home.
Thank God for that.
Boy, it just seems no matter how many times you go through this...
it never gets any easier, huh?
- What about Morehead and Sims? - We won't know till morning.
- See what you can do about getting Sims home. - Hmm?
He's only two points short anyway...
and I'd sure as hell hate to have to see him put his butt back up in the line.
With all due respect, Major...
I know you're a fair-minded man... I am too...
but I also feel charity begins at home, with your own kind.
- You know what I mean? - I'm not sure that I do.
Well, first you tried to get Pierce here to pull strings...
to get that Dorsey boy sent home...
and now you're trying to get us...
to send two more of them stateside.
- "Them"? - It just seems to be...
a little dark in post-op, if you get my drift.
Aw, Colonel, it's supposed to be happy hour. Why don't we just have a drink?
- Major? - It's a good idea. Thanks.
Well, what's the problem, Pierce?
Everybody's entitled to his own opinion.
Just because Truman desegregated the troops...
doesn't mean that I have to agree with him.
- Come on, Colonel. We've been all through this. - Face it. What's done is done.
This man's army just hasn't been the same...
since our beloved president signed that act in '48.
Yeah, I can't believe a man from my very own home state of Missouri...
would pull something like that.
Wouldn't you think Harry S. Would leave well enough alone?
- Amen. - Oh?
Everything was fine till Uncle Sam burnt the toast.
Well, if we're all simpatico here...
how come you're sending those boys home...
via your own Underground Railroad?
It's very simple.
I don't want them in my unit.
Well, ain't you the shrewd cookie?
I'm not the kind of man who sits by...
while others mess around with the natural order of things.
The government might be able to force 'em on me...
they can't tell me what to do with them.
Nobody tells me who I have to eat, sleep and fight with.
So you send 'em off on high-risk duty, huh?
That way they earn more points. They get rotated home faster.
- Or get wounded. - Yeah, well...
We didn't ask for them to be here in the first place, right?
Well, what do you know? We're all out of booze.
What do you say we step inside for a nightcap?
Let's have a toast...
to some good, old-fashioned American values.
- [Weems] I'll drink to that. - Shall I pour?
- [Groans] - Sorry, Charles. You've had too much already.
Major, care for another drink?
I don't believe we've met.
Well, mercy me. Where are my manners?
Major Weems, allow me to introduce...
Major Quentin Rockingham.
Major Rockingham is the Deputy Assistant Chief of Staff for Personnel...
Headquarters "l"Corps.
Sir.
Indeed a pleasure to meet you.
Major, do you have any idea how appropriate it is...
- that we should meet in a hospital? - I don't understand.
- You make me sick. - Amen.
Major, you're fighting the wrong war...
The Civil War ended almost 100 years ago.
In today's army there's no place for a bigot.
Bigot? You've got it all wrong.
Do I? What would you call an officer...
who assigns his men to dangerous duty on the basis of their race?
- Weems, you look white as a sheet. - Seems only fitting.
Now wait a minute, Major. I don't think you quite understand.
- Just let me explain. - No, no, no, no, no.
I think you stated your case with a great deal of eloquence...
and I'm sure a court-martial board will find it equally impressive.
Court-martial? What?
Since when is it a court-martial offense...
to have a harmless chat over a couple of drinks?
We did some research on you and your unit...
and came up with some figures that indicate that you're not exactly harmless.
It seems that a Negro in your command...
has a life-expectancy of a dead man.
It'll all come down to my word against yours.
- All four of us. - Make that five.
Okay. Okay.
Maybe I have been, uh...
a little one-sided in my judgment... maybe...
but believe me, there's no need for a court-martial here.
You've got a point. A court-martial would take a lot of time.
- That's right. - And the sooner you're out of here, the better...
so I'm gonna give you another choice.
Sign this.
Resign my commission?
That's no choice. Either way I'm out of the army.
Amen to that.
It's insane. I won't do it.
Then I'll have to put in a call to the Judge Advocate General.
At least give me the night to think about it.
Major, either you sign...
or I'm gonna put in a call to the J.A.G. Right now.
Either way, of course, the choice is entirely up to you.
When my C.O. Sees this, he's gonna wanna know why.
You can say it's for personal reasons.
Or we can say that it's for personnel reasons.
Are there any more questions, Major?
There used to be a time...
when you could tell who your enemies were.
[B.J.] So much for the good old days.
- Well, now that that's over, how about a drink? - One for the road?
[Laughing] Did you see that?
His eyeballs were breaking out in a sweat.
Colonel, you were terrific.
Well, I've seen so many of those birds, I've got the act down pat.
But the Oscar goes to Quentin here...
for best impersonation of a major by a captain.
[All Laughing]
Well, Colonel, you can believe me, it was my pleasure.
- Major... - Sir?
I want to thank you for the use of your leaves.
Any time. I thought your performance was outstanding.
It was a pleasure watching you make that man suffer.
Oh, Charles, the show's not over yet. This one's a double-feature.
- What do you mean? - I guess this calls for another howdy-doody.
Dr. Winchester, M.D., meet Dr. Rockingham, D.D.S.
Dentist!
If you liked him as the firm but fair major in Gone With the Weems...
you'll love him as the warm but tender dentist in A Yank in Korea.
Oh, no. God, no.
- You don't have to drop your jaw yet, Charles. - No, no.
- Let's go, Charles. It's this way. - Iniquitous...
Winchester, you've got two choices. Either him or the doorknob.
- Follow us, Captain. - Come on.
- Colonel. - Thank you, Quentin.
We had no idea it would be so painful.
We figured it was just gonna be your everyday, run-of-the-mill dental work.
You poor man, to suffer so.
[B. J.] I'm sure it'll be a fast recuperation.
And I doubt there's any nerve damage.
It's happened before... but only with baby teeth.
Well, you see what happens when you don't give him a balloon?
I am terribly embarrassed, Doctor.
It was purely a reflex action.
I have very primitive biting instincts.