All language subtitles for MASH.S09E20.The.Life.You.Save.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+2.0.H.264-AJP69_track3_[eng]

-Come on, Fred. Easy.
-Watch his head.

Make sure you keep
that pressure bandage

good and tight.
Get him right into pre-op.

What do you got here, Beej?

Nothing too bad so far.

He's a little shocky, but
it's only a shoulder wound.

Okay.

Pulse is weakening.

He's shockier
than I thought.

I'll get his feet
elevated.

I can't get a pulse.
Winchester!

Charles, get
that emergency kit
over here, fast!

-What do you got?
-Cardiac arrest.

Here. Adrenaline.
It's prepared.

-Did you get a pulse, Margaret?
-No. Nothing.

Damn it!
More adrenaline.

He's not gonna die
from a damn shoulder wound.

Sniper! Sniper!

Get those patients
under cover!

Margaret, get that kid
out of sight.

-Charles, let's get him
up under the bus.
-Right.

Gwen, Gwen!
Grab the other end.

Let's get him
behind these boxes.

Get him inside. Klinger,

get to the generator
and kill those lights!

-Yes, sir!

Get him behind the ambulance!
Get down!

Come on, kid.
Go, go, go!

Come on!

-Come on!

-Anything?
-It's beating.

-Oh, that's the way to go!
-It's beating! Yeah-ha!

Quiet, quiet!
Everybody get inside.

HAWKEYE: Can I have
some more light over here?

Right down here in the wound.

-How does it feel, Gwen?
-It just burns a little.

I think the bullet's
still in there.
You're gonna be fine.

The nurses here
are really terrific
once you get to know them.

All right, get her
into X-ray, Margaret.

I'll take her right
after that belly wound.

Blackout's lifted.
A patrol got the sniper.

Well, now I know what
a skeet shoot feels like,

from the skeet's
point of view.

Boy, some people are no fun
to take to an ambush.

Come on, Charles.

You and I went through
something out there

you can tell your kids about

if you ever decide
to buy a family.

-What happened?
-A kid died on us,

and we brought him back.

It's not often you come
out of an attack

with more people alive
than you went in with.

Okay, gents,
open your ears while you
button your britches.

Time to rotate
your additional
duty assignments.

I just about had
my assignment shot off.

Do we have to
go through this now?

Yes, and this time I want you to
do these jobs.

Hunnicutt,
you're our new
laundry officer.

I'd just as soon
wash my hands of
the whole thing.

Count your blessings.

I made Mulcahy
the new garbage officer.

Some men are born to garbage,

and others have garbage
thrust upon them.

Winchester, you've
got the motor pool.

Keep those engines
humming.

Why, don't they know
the words?

Major Houlihan's
the new morale officer.

And Pierce-- --
This oughta be good.

-You're the new
mess tent honcho.

Fine. I'll
add a secret ingredient
to every meal-- flavor.

I can hardly wait.

Winchester,
you joining us,

or are you gonna
send out for a patient?

I'm coming.

Is there anything
I can do for him?

No, uh, no. He's fine.

Can you believe it?
This man was dead.

For three minutes.

Well, if you need me, doctor,
I'll be at my desk.

Mm-hmm.

-Is he all right?
-Yeah, he's fine.

I, uh-- I just stopped by
to see how he was doing

after that rather
remarkable experience.

Mmm.

Sat with him
for a minute or two.

He was sitting there
for half an hour.

It's the greatest
French toast
you ever tasted.

Whatever you say, Captain.

Naturally, you'll have to
multiply the ingredients.

-I only know how to make
enough for me and Dad.
-Gotcha.

Okay, you start
with two eggs,

and you fold in
a cup and a half
of milk.

Mm-hmm.

Then you add just
a touch of vanilla.

-You want vanilla?
-Yeah.

For that I need
a two-day pass.

You haven't got
any vanilla?

Sorry.
I used it up last night

-in the crêpes Suzette.
-All right. Okay.

We don't need any vanilla.
It'll be great without it.

Now, don't use
an eggbeater. Use a whisk.

Blend it until there's just
a delicate layer of froth

floating on the top.

-Right. Floating froth.
-Yeah. Okay.

Now,
when you've got that,

you soak each slice of bread

until the batter
seeps into every pore.

Oh, this is so great!

This isn't toast.

-It's pastry.
-Sure thing.

Okay, now, you know it's
been soaking long enough

if you pinch it lightly
with your fingers

and it doesn't
bounce back.

Pinch it
with your fingers?

Just a minute.
Hold the mayo

and anything else
you've got cooking.

You can't give any orders
until you sign in.

What is this?

Just routine paperwork
for I-Corps.

It acknowledges
that you're officially

in charge of the mess tent.
Sign these,

-and all this will be yours.
-Eggs!

Right here on
the dotted line, sir.

Right here. Here, sir.
Dotted line.

If you'll just initial
here for your cookware.

Milk!

Right there.

And here for
your tables, eating.

-What?
-Initial here, sir.

-Tables, eating.
-What? Yeah, all right.

-Right there.
-Where? Here?

Yes, sir. And here

-for tables, steam.
-Uh-huh.

And here, and here,
and here.

-Moisture!
-Wait. Wait a minute. Wait--

And here.

Yeah. Look, I assume
everything I'm signing for

is present
and accounted for.

Oh, sure.
Just about all of it.
Good day, Your Messness.

Wait a minute. What do you
mean, just about all of it?

Well, considering
all the stuff that's here,

50 measly trays
is no big deal.

Are you telling me
we're missing 50 trays?

Sir, I wouldn't
worry about it.

Of course, I'm not
financially responsible.

Neither am I!

-Blending!
-Yeah. Wh--

"I, Benjamin Pierce, do assume
financial responsibility

for all aforementioned
culinary items."

Initialed B.F.P.
Is that not your B.F.P.?

-Gently! Gently!
-Huh?

-Easy. What? Yeah.
-B.F.P.?

Look, you can't
walk in here and tell me
I owe the Army 50 trays!

Why didn't you bring that up
before I signed it?

Then you wouldn't
have signed it.

Let me explain something
to you.

I'm in charge
of the mess tent.

If you ever want
to eat again,

you work it out so that I
don't owe the Army 50 trays.

You'd let a man starve
for 50 lousy trays?

-With relish.
-Okay.

I'll talk to the 8063rd
and see if I can borrow some.

Gently soaking the bread
into the froth.

Would you care to pinch it,
or shall I?

Look, I'm a doctor,
not a laundry expert.

I'm not gonna barge in here
and tell you how to run things.

I'm sure you
have your own system for
taking care of all this.

Captain,
I just got transferred
in here yesterday.

I don't know nothin'
about laundry.

I thought maybe
you had a system.

Oh. Well,
it doesn't look too bad.

I'm sure between
the two of us, we can--

Okay, here we go, doc.

Oh, come on!

Do you recall
what you felt?

Did you see anything?

I don't know.

I'm still--I'm still
kind of tired, I guess.

Well, was it like,
uh, dreaming?

Did you hear voices?

Just the doctors
when I woke up.

No, no, no, I mean...

while you were... gone.

Sir, I really don't
understand what you want.

When I was very young...

my little brother
passed away.

I couldn't, uh...

fully comprehend it
at the time,

but for months
after the... accident,

I was unable to
pass his room...

without this...

nameless fear.

I-I would get a, um...

tingling sensation

in my chest and my... arms.

And then yesterday,

when I found out that
I had, indeed, come...

very close to death myself...

that sensation returned.

But you were there.

You were there,
if only for a moment,

and I must know
what you felt.

I want to help you.

I'm just tired,

and I think I want to
get some sleep now.

Can I see you outside
for a moment, doctor?

Yes, of course.

Thank you.

-Yes?
-Are you all right?

-Perfectly.
-Nothing's bothering you?

-Absolutely nothing.
-Then what the hell is
the matter with you?

Every time I go into post-op,
you're hovering over Markham
like a ghoul!

That's some graveside
manner you've got.

If you'll recall,

I'm partly responsible for
his being alive right now.

Then let's let him
rest in peace.

Let me ask you a question,
Dr. Schweitzer.

Can you honestly
stand there and tell me

that you've never wondered
what it was like?

What what was like?

What that boy
went through right there.

-He was dead!
-Uh-huh.

Haven't you the
slightest bit of curiosity
about what lies beyond?

No. I figure I'll
find out soon enough.

Well, you may need
to cloak yourself in denial,

but I am not afraid to
face up to the harshest
reality of all.

Let me give you another
harsh reality, doctor.

Markham is my patient.
You stay the hell away
from him.

-What is the matter with you?
-With me?

Why are you yelling
at that poor man?

Can't you see
he's troubled?

When I get finished
taking care of my patients,

I'll start worrying
about the doctor.

I'm sitting in there
reading a manual

on how to boost morale,

and you're out here
tearing it down.

So what do you want
me to do?

I don't know.
A little sensitivity,

a little compassion
might help.

He's obviously very troubled,

and screaming at him isn't gonna
boost his spirits.

Fine.
You're the morale officer.

You give him a boost.

Right now I've got
200 pounds of underwear

to fluff and fold.

-Oh, Charles, I'm so
glad I ran into you.
-Margaret.

Maybe you could help me
with something.

I've been
talking to a lot of people.
I'm morale officer, you know.

I've been trying to get ideas
about what we could do

to sort of cheer people
up around here.

Well, Major, I don't, uh,
concern myself

with other people's
problems.

Well, then, uh,
what about yours?

Why, I haven't a care
in the world, thank you.

Except, of course, trying to
find somewhere to be alone.

Major, I know how difficult
it is to be cheerful here

seeing so many people wounded
and so much death.

But we could have it
a lot worse.

I mean, think about the medics
at Battalion Aid.

Why, they face
more death in one day
than we do in a week.

Major,
are you listening to me?

It's perfectly natural
to be overwhelmed

by what we're doing here,

but you can't
let it get to you.

You've got to be strong.

You're not paying
any attention to me!

I come in here to try to help
you pull yourself together,

and you sit there sticking
your finger in your hat.

You're not troubled.
You're not depressed.
You're weird.

And I wish
you wouldn't come to me

with your bizarre problems.

That's our little
morale officer.

Boost, boost, boost!

Why didn't you fix these
carrots the way I told you?

Your recipe called for
a two-and-a-half-year
allotment of butter.

Everybody's still talking
about the breakfast.

What do you call that,
Eggs Benzedrine?

Hey, Captain,

this is the kind of food
I used to get at home

just before I ran away.

You know,
my meat tasted pretty good,

after I combed it.

Eat it.

So, how does it feel
now that the food is
on the other foot?

Fixing meals is
no picnic, you know.

Uh, I'll be just a second.

Captain,
there's somebody over here

I think you better talk to.

Well, just tell him
we don't give free meals
to cops here.

This is serious.

Uh, may I present
Captain Pierce,
maitre d' de mess.

Hello, Sergeant.
What can I do for you?

Sir, I was wondering if we
might have a word together.

Yeah, sure.
Why-Why don't you, uh,
have a seat here?

Sure.

Sir,
I'm Sergeant Chiaverini,

and I've been sent here
to investigate
a number of trays

that were stolen from
the 8063rd.

Trays?

Uh, tr-- You mean, uh, as in,
uh, underneath the food?

-Yes, sir.
-Yeah. Uh--Uh--

I-- You-- Don't go away.

-Klinger, this man is
here to arrest me.
-Oh, good.

I didn't want to
go alone.

I'm a little curious
about those 50 trays

you borrowed from
the 8063rd.

Oh, the guy said he would
lend me 50 trays

if I would lend him
100 forks.

You know the old saying--

Neither a borrower
nor a lender be.

So I stole them.

You mean we're gonna
wind up in the stockade

because you didn't
want to impose?

Why don't we just
give him back the 50 trays?

Tell him we were a couple
of crazy kids out on a lark.

That's liable to
keep us out of jail,
but meanwhile,

I'm back to owing the Army
50 trays again.

Thanks a lot, Klinger.
Thanks.

-Hi, Sergeant.
-Yes.

I think this is all
a big mistake.

I mean, nobody in this unit
would ever steal any trays,

but, uh, maybe I can
help you out.

If-If, uh--If the 8063rd
is short a few trays,

we have some extras.

I'm sure Corporal Klinger
would be glad to, you know,

drive over and deliver them
over there.

I got you, sir.
I think maybe we can
work something out.

Good. How-- How many,
uh, trays were missing?

75.

Fine job of work, Rizzo.

Every valve, every disk
must be removed from the jeep

and placed on the sheet
in its assigned order.

Sir, I don't understand.
Why am I taking this apart?

It was working
just fine!

On the sheet, Rizzo.
On the sheet!
On the sheet.

Don't you understand
the power you have here?

You can take
a jeep apart

and reduce it to
an inert pile of junk.

And then whenever
you want to, at whim,

you can
fit it together again,

and it will
roar back to life.

If only we could do that
with human beings,

they--

they wouldn't die.

-Sir, we've got a problem.
-I got a problem myself.

If I don't keep my calluses
leveled off,

I tend to tip over
backwards.

-Colonel--

-"Entry-vous."
-Sir, I really must protest.

I'm up to my hips
in garbage.

There's just no room
for any more.

Well, Padre, you gotta
ditch it someplace,
preferably downwind.

I can't!

Winchester has
all the transportation

lying around
in little pieces
on bed linen.

That's what I want
to talk to you about.

Colonel, the motor pool has
been taken completely apart.

-and Klinger has to get to
the 8063rd right away.
-Why?

Because--

It's a long story,
but whatever idiot

was in charge of
the mess tent before I was

stuck me with
75 missing trays.

I'm the idiot who stuck
you with those trays,

and it was 50!

Colonel? Colonel,

this laundry job
is driving me nuts.

I'm glad you brought that up.

These don't exactly look
like the Fruit of the Looms

I sent in two days ago.

Maybe you can find

the passion flower
these belong to.

No kiddin'.

Would you look at this?

The motor pool keeps
sending me greasy sheets.

They clog up the drain.
I can't get 'em clean.

My hands are turning
into two little raisins.

Winchester's brain is not
operating on all cylinders.

Start, you fool!
Start!

Major! Major,
what are you doing?

Why won't this idiotic
engine turn over?

Because I tucked it into bed
on that sheet over there

just the way you told me.

Well, I must have
transportation immediately.

Uh, what's available?

-Any of these work?
-Only the ambulance.

But that's off-limits,
except in a medical emergency!

-This is a medical emergency!
-Where are you going?

Battalion Aid.

Well, maybe he has got

a few loose cashews
in his attic,

but when you've been in this
trade as long as I have,

nothing makes you blink.

I think maybe Winchester
has come face-to-face

with the big heebie-jeebies.

I've seen it take
all kinds of forms.

Some guys will go
through crazy heroics.

Others will hide under
their bunks for a week.

I just hate to stand by
and watch it.

For now, Margaret, let's just
let this thing run its course.

Winchester is a big boy.

-I'm sure he'll work
this out for himself.

That guy better slow down
before somebody gets killed.

I want a few words with you.

Well, I hope two of them
are "garbage truck."

No, but three of them
are "How dare you?"

You're a man of the cloth,

an inspiration
to everyone here,

and last but not least,
a chiseler.

How could you stick
a guy for 50 trays?

Just grab a pole
and help push back
this garbage.

-You see?
-We'll be buried alive here!

God is punishing you.

He's raining garbage
on your head.

I don't know what you're
grousing about.

Those 50 trays never existed.

Yeah, well,
now 75 trays don't exist.

Look,

I was just as upset
as you were

when I took over
the mess tent.

Here's how it was
explained to me.

The army doesn't do things

the way real human beings
do them.

Now, then,

-you're minus 75 trays.
-Yeah.

But they're not
good for anything except
putting under Army food.

So some mess tent somewhere
is plus 75 trays.

When this war is over,

a few generals will
get together,

and add up all the pluses
and all the minuses,

and it'll all
come out even.

Besides which,
long before that happens,

you'll already have stuck
somebody else for them.

-Ohh!
-Oh!

There. I've got the bleeding
stopped for now.

You want to-- uh, get him
on the ambulance, will you?

I'm sure glad
you showed up.

We're making it
in half the time.

Battalion Aid.

-I still don't really
know why you're here.
-Yes, sir.

Actually, it's not all that
clear to me, either.

Uh, are there any more?

Yes, sir. Hold on.

That's all, except
for this boy.

-Major Winchester?
-Hmm?

It's for you.

Yes?

Winchester, what the hell
are you doing up there?

Taking care of wounded.

Do you realize
we're about to get

a whole bunch of wounded
in here?

Of course I do.
This is where they come from.

Do you also realize you could
get yourself killed up there?

Ah, actually, no,
that-that hadn't
occurred to me.

Uh, that would be
interesting, wouldn't it?

Winchester,
you get back here right now!

Major,
I've got trouble here.

I'm losing him.
Too much internal damage.

Winchester, now!

Am I all right?

I can't feel anything
in my legs.

Try to hang on.

We're gonna get you
to a MASH unit,

and they'll patch you up
just fine.

I don't know whether
I can, doc.

I feel real weird.

Just stay with it.

-Doc?
-Hmm?

-You still there?
-Sure. I'm here.

I-I can't see you.
Hold my hand.

I am holding it.

I can't feel it.

Oh, God, I'm gonna die.

Can you hear me?

Yes.

What is happening to you?

Can you feel anything?

Do you see anything?

Please, I have to know.

What is happening to you?

I smell bread.

I don't understand.

He's the last one, sir.

Should we put him
in the ambulance?

No.

Thanks for your help,
doctor.

I really appreciate it.

You didn't think I was
gonna sign for these

without counting them
first, did you?

-No, of course not.
Who would be that stupid?
-10, 11, 12.

-Fine. I need 15 more.
-15.

You'd be surprised at
some of the crummy things
people try to pull.

You wouldn't believe
some of the stories
my father told me.

You've gotta watch everybody
all the time, very carefully.

Here we go, ma'am.
The last 15 trays.

Thank you for your help
Klinger.

Oh, it's the least
I could do, sir.
I owed it to you.

13, 14, 15. Fine.

Nothing like doing things
the Army way.