M*A*S*H (MASH) s10e15 Episode Script

1G12 - Pressure Points

I came as fast as I could, Margaret.
I double-parked my martini.
I'm sorry to bother you, but the colonel's not back from the 8063rd and there's a problem with one of his patients.
His blood pressure's 80 over 60, and his abdomen is distended.
Well, how are you feeling, uh, Corporal Fisher? - My stomach's killing me, Doc.
- When did the pain start? I'm not sure.
I was feeling fine.
Just coughin' a little.
And all of a sudden my gut started hurting.
Corporal, we're gonna have to do some touch-up surgery.
But you're in luck.
We got a two-for-one offer this week.
- Type and cross match him.
- I already have.
- Good.
Okay, hang a unit.
- Right.
- Listen, Margaret.
Good catch.
- Thanks.
- What's this, a new coffee table? - Can't find his shower shoes.
- You can borrow mine.
- Oh, thank you.
The halfway houses for wayward lice? Huh.
Here they are hidden under a pile of condemned underwear.
Charles, for underwear I always use a five iron.
It's always the same, isn't it? You two animals just add to the rag heap until revulsion overwhelms me, and I am compelled to restore order.
And you do a bang-up job of it too.
It's not easy staying one mess ahead of you.
Pierce, you are beyond belief! Hi, Colonel.
What's the word from the 8063rd? Pierce, I understand you had to do some mop-up work on Corporal Fisher.
Just had to play hide-and-seek with a little shrapnel.
- I think he's gonna be fine.
- I could have sworn I picked him clean.
Well, it wasn't easy to spot.
It was hidden under the liver.
I think it must have dislodged when he started coughing and nicked the hepatic artery.
He could have died.
Once in a while, we all miss a nail in the tire.
Attention.
! The Chinese have begun a new offensive.
Command anticipates heavy casualties within the next 24 hours.
- This is a recording.
- Someday I'm gonna look back on this nightmare and think of it all as just a bad dream.
I presume those are just gonna lay there until I pick them up? - Or until they walk out on their own.
- Well, I have had it up to here and here and here! Charles, admittedly, it's not a great system, but at least it's a system.
Was! Was a system! Was a system! I am hereby serving notice that from this time forward I shall cease to be your chambermaid! - How's the stomach, Fisher? - A lot better, sir.
I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me.
That's okay.
The nurses tell me Dr.
Pierce saved my life.
He's the man I'd want to go to.
Yeah.
I'd like to thank him.
Sure.
I'll tell him to stop by.
You get some rest now.
Colonel, we have to make room for the new wounded.
I think we should transfer as many of these men as possible to the 121 st.
Well, let's have a looksee.
Schwartz can go.
Chandler can go.
McCormick, Washington.
And, uh, Corporal Logan over here is doing fine.
- Thanks to Dr.
Pierce.
- We're sending you to the evac, Corporal.
What about Fisher? We're buddies.
Uh, I'm afraid we're gonna have to extend his reservation another couple of days.
- But we have the same wounds, don't we? - Yes, you do.
But with Fisher, we had to operate a second time.
- Yeah, right.
- Okay, sir.
- Ah.
! Just the sir I was looking for.
- What is it? Captain Schnelker from Tech Intelligence is here.
He's got some priority poop.
You want me to round up our crack surgery team? Yeah, and I'll be there too.
Last week, in their offensive north of the Han the Chinese started using something a little different white phosphorous rounds.
I always look forward to the fall, when the new line of weapons comes out.
Now, these rounds are burning when they hit the victim and they keep burning as long as they have oxygen.
- Oh, that's just terrible.
- Better things for better killing through chemistry.
Anyway, since we now have to deal with these hot tamales we've developed a procedure to put the fire out.
Don't the Chinese know these kids are too young to smoke? The first step is to apply surgical jelly which ideally, will be done at Battalion Aid.
Ideally, they shouldn't be using these boys for kindling in the first place.
Would you people knock off the chatter? I'm gonna be operating on men who've been hit by this white phosphorous.
- I'd like to know what I'm doing! - The record will show - I haven't said a word.
- I'm sorry, Colonel.
Once they come down from Battalion Aid Every month there's a new procedure we have to learn because somebody's come up with an even better way to mutilate the human body.
Tell me this, Captain.
How the hell am I supposed to keep up with it? - I'm only the - If they can invent better ways to kill each other why can't they invent a way to end this stupid war? The gravy was better than usual tonight.
- You could cut it with a fork.
- Do you smell something, Hawk? Yeah, and not the usual ambient stench.
Onions.
- And sardines.
Charles! - Hiya.
I hate the taste of sardines.
And they taste better than they smell.
Well, I never consult you in matters of taste, because you have none.
You sliced onions with my Swiss Army knife? - Nah.
A Swiss Army officer did it.
- Look who's here! The mobile army head shrink! Hello, Sidney! Greetings.
Major.
- Hiya.
- First time I've seen you in your summer uniform.
- This is the real me.
- Sorry to hear that.
Sidney, to what do we owe the honor? Well, you're getting a lot of wounded in and "I" Corps wants a report on how you guys handle stress.
I've always wanted to do a paper on that.
You're welcome to bunk here with us at Chez Miserable.
- Nice of you to ask.
- Hawkeye and me are just regular guys but Stanley Kowalski here means volumes.
Yeah.
He eats sardines a cappella.
Oh, yeah.
Care for a sardine, Sid? No, thank you.
- I've got to check in with Klinger.
- Norwegian pilchard.
He "pilchard" my knife.
Sliced onions with it.
Go ahead, Doc.
Tell him how sick that is.
I'd love to analyze you all, but I've had no training in child psychiatry.
Come in.
- Hello, Sherman.
- Sidney.
I'm glad to see you.
So glad, in fact, I'm gonna do something I don't do for just anybody shut off "Along the Santa Fe Trail.
" I'm flattered.
Bump into anybody else yet? Just Larry, Moe and Curly over in the Swamp.
What kind of a story did you tell 'em? That I'm here to do a report on stress.
They bought it.
But why the Why the smoke screen? Who's this top secret patient you want me to see? - You're looking at him.
- You? What it comes down to is, I haven't been myself lately.
- Uh-huh.
- Today, a young fellow was here from T.
I.
D briefing us on a new kind of wound we'll be dealing with and I reared up and bit his head off right in front of my own people.
Everybody flies off the handle once in a while.
Well, there's more, Sidney.
- I bungled an operation.
- Yes? I left a piece of shrapnel in a patient.
Pierce had to go back in and bail me out.
I'm sure you would have done the same for him.
That's the catch.
I didn't have to.
He operated on a boy with the same wounds as mine had.
His came through with flying colors.
But I thought meatball surgery was fix 'em close 'em and holler "next.
" Not exactly a flawless system.
Sidney, I never made that mistake before.
Hell, I know nobody's perfect.
But lately, I seem to be a lot less perfect than I can accept.
- I think maybe I - Maybe you what? Maybe I just need some sleep.
Sounded like you were gonna say something else.
No, that was it.
I'm tired.
Besides, I feel much better just getting this off my chest.
- Thanks, Sidney.
- Lucky I don't work by the hour.
I'd go broke.
I feel sorry dragging you all the way out here just to listen to an old man ramble on.
Don't worry about it.
It gave me a chance to get out of the house.
Besides, maybe tomorrow I can scare up a poker game.
- Okay if I hang around? - Yeah.
Maybe we can get in a few hands before the the wounded show up.
Great.
Good night, Sherman.
Good night, Sidney.
See you in the morning.
Wake up, stinky! - Go away.
- I believe this is yours.
It was, but I'm quite through with it now.
You can take it.
Enjoy.
Will you two keep it down? I don't believe it.
This is where we said good night.
What's that horrible smell? Charles Emerson Winchester, the slob.
Hey, that's my knife! But it's a real Swiss Army knife now.
The onion has eaten holes in it.
And you still haven't cleaned it! How thoughtless of me.
There you go.
Spotless.
Charles, you are both obnoxious and noxious.
Freud once observed people exhibiting this type of behavior.
- Then he quit the business.
- Sorry to wake you, Sidney but B.
J.
And I just crossed the international "enough" line.
I'd put this in my paper, but I might have to deliver it at a luncheon.
- Charles, clean up this mess! - Right now! Gentlemen, I'd love to stay and chat, but it's time for breakfast.
Oh, I'm sure there'll be plenty.
Just check the can where they scrape their trays.
I say we leave it.
Right.
If he can stand it, we can stand it.
I can't stand it! If those are eggs, I don't want any.
Just give me a couple of slices of that burnt toast and an urn for the ashes.
- Sorry, Colonel.
- "Sorry" don't fill my stomach.
- Morning, Colonel.
How'd you sleep? - Oh, like a baby.
- Oh, I feel great.
- Glad to hear that.
I guess yesterday was just one of those days when my engine overheated.
If you feel like kicking this thing around anymore I do have to justify my gasoline voucher for the trip.
I hate to waste your time when there's plenty of bona fide members of the Crackers Battalion who could really use your help.
- Margaret, Padre.
- Morning, Colonel.
Hello, Sidney.
You're obviously feeling a lot better today.
I guess I just didn't have my bran yesterday.
Speaking of bran, Sidney, you better get some breakfast before they run out.
Not a bad idea.
Not a good one either.
Colonel, the extra blood has arrived, and the refrigerators are all full up.
If we don't find a place to store it, it's gonna go flat.
What next? Back home at the Kiwanis picnic, we used to put the beer in the creek.
- Try that.
- I guess that's why they pay you the colonel money.
Also, if you'll put your Sherman T.
Potter on this release we can ship Corporal Fisher out to the evac.
- Fisher? - Uh, yes.
Fisher is my patient! Who authorized his release? Uh, don't look at me, sir.
It was Captain Pierce.
Is that so? - Morning, Colonel.
- What gives you the authority to green-light my patient? - Who? - Fisher! Well, his fever's down, his vital signs are good.
He's healthy enough to pack his own bags.
What's the problem? Fisher is my patient! Just because you operated on him after me doesn't give you the right to rubber-stamp his release! You got that? Absolutely.
Hey, what are you doing? I just struck clean.
You're tracking dirt all over it.
If I'd known everyone was gonna yell at me, I never would have come to this war.
- Here.
Your Sun Worshipper's Monthly.
- Oh, goody! - You found it.
It's my favorite.
- I want you to use it as a dustpan.
Well, why not? A dirty magazine for a dirty job.
Shh! Come here.
Shh! Shh! Excuse me, sir.
I have bad news that I have absolutely nothing to do with.
The surgeons are tearing the Swamp from limb to limb.
Ah! I see you boys have been busy with your spring cleaning.
I think this mattress would look better on top of Winchester's desk.
Is that all you're gonna say, sir? No.
One more thing.
Order a new pillow.
- Sidney, would you come with me? - Yeah.
Being from New York, I guess you're not an aficionado of cowboy music, huh, Sidney? Very few of those groups play the Copa.
You've missed something.
You've been flying off the handle at everybody else.
- Why not the wrecking crew? - They were just blowing off steam.
In a few hours, the Wounded Express is due in.
The longer the waiting, the worse the wait.
But when you blow off steam, you don't like it? Depends on what's boiling the water.
If there's a good enough reason, you can bet I'll go off.
But when I blow without good reason, I start getting worried.
Listen to this.
Are you worried that you blew up at Hawkeye back in the Mess Tent? I don't know why I did that.
Pierce is okay.
Just young.
That's all.
Sometimes I've got to sit on him.
- How old are you, Sherm? - Sixty-two.
- Do you think maybe you're not really mad at Hawkeye? It's just that he reminds you you're not a young surgeon anymore? Sidney, I called you because you talk sense not psychological mumbo jumbo.
Next you'll tell me I hate my father, love my mother and have me looking at inkblots.
Well, I'll save you the time.
I've seen lots of inkblots.
They all look like horses to me.
Okay, no more mumbo jumbo.
Why don't you just tell me what's been going on here the past few days, inside? Nothing.
Sherm, you got a funny way about you.
You keep bringing me in to talk, and then you don't say anything.
- Sidney, I've been in a cold sweat.
- Why? I told you my mistake.
I almost cost a boy his life.
Next thing I heard, we were getting casualties in.
That's when something snapped.
I mean, those announcements always tighten my gut a bit but this was different.
Worse.
It was like everything was falling down around me and I was gonna fall apart with it.
- That's scary.
- Pretty soon those choppers are comin' in and I've got to go into O.
R.
And start cuttin' into people.
I don't know if I'll be able to hit the bull's-eye again.
- You're letting me down.
- Letting you down? There's nothing new here.
Sherm, we're all worried about getting old, but we've got to face it.
Not like I do.
Look at you.
When your hand starts to shake a little, you can still go on chasing cobwebs out of people's attics.
But being a surgeon is all I am.
It's the only kind of doctor I ever wanted to be.
Since I was a boy.
Back in Hannibal, I had an uncle Uncle Roy.
He was a veterinarian.
Used to cart me along when he'd make his rounds.
One time, he was operating on a colicky horse.
Right there, with me watching he laid that mare down and removed an enterolith from her belly.
My uncle showed me the beauty the "glory," he called it of what's inside living creatures.
From that minute, my dream was to be a surgeon.
And it came true.
I've lived that wide-eyed little boy's dream ever since.
But maybe now it's over.
Over? Because of one piece of shrapnel? Maybe that one piece of shrapnel was trying to tell me something.
Look at Joe DiMaggio.
He just hung up number five and is going out with his head and batting average high.
But even if he wanted to hang around a while longer, what would it matter? A few more strikeouts maybe.
But if I strike out, it could cost a life.
Sidney, I'm afraid to go in there.
Why couldn't you tell me that's what you were afraid of? Because I was scared you'd tell me I'm right.
Look, I can't tell you whether you've lost your touch.
Someday you will.
Everybody does eventually.
But whether that someday is today you're the only one who has the answer.
But you mustn't let the fear make the decision for you.
Attention all personnel.
The wounded you have been waiting for are here in person.
Report to the big top immediately.
The circus is about to begin.
Earlier than I expected.
Put him under, deep.
I got it.
Okay, boys and girls.
Let's go to work.
Believe me, it's just like when you're expecting casualties.
The waiting is the worst part.
Well, Charles, the pressure certainly didn't get to you.
Perhaps I did tippy-toe towards the deep end just a bit.
Okay, Klinger, I think it's time for the drawing.
The winner of the Shave Major Winchester raffle is Colonel Sherman Potter! Okay, Charles, if you die, remember, it wasn't in vain.
Yes, the $3.
65 we raised goes to the orphanage.
- Terribly reassuring.
- Don't worry, Major.
Your face is in good hands.
I'm steady as a rock.
After all, I'm a surgeon.

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