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(helicopters whirling) ♪♪♪ (theme)
♪♪♪ ‐Hey, Trapper? ‐Huh?
How much do you suppose this stuff's worth
on the black market?
What would you do with your share?
Pay for my hernia operation.
All right, lemme see...
Blankets, powdered milk, penicillin.
Okay, that's everything.
All right, Sister Theresa, all set.
Oh, how can I ever thank you, Hawkeye?
And you, Trapper.
Oh, don't thank us.
We're just acting on orders.
But whose?
Who is the author of all this generosity?
Uh, Tuttle. Captain Tuttle.
That's who. Right, uh, Trap?
Captain Tuttle?
Yeah, one of our finest officers.
And a beautiful man.
Just picture George Washington with John Wayne's agent.
I'll have the children at the orphanage
write him a thank‐you letter tomorrow.
Oh, don't do that.
He doesn't like anybody to make a fuss.
No, no. Uh‐uh. That's right.
I mean, he's Mr. Humility.
Captain Humility, actually.
Captain Humility.
Just tell the good captain I'll be praying for him.
‐Goodbye. ‐HAWKEYE: Bye.
Lovely lady.
Yeah, but she could never be more than a sister to me.
Isn't she wasting her prayers on somebody
who doesn't exist?
Who doesn't exist?
This, uh, this Tuttle you made up.
Who says I made him up?
Don't con me.
He's a figment of your imagination.
And what makes you think you're not?
Rough shift?
Picnic.
Oh. Not too many wounded, huh?
No, no wounded. I worked on a pregnant infantryman.
Oh.
Nobody can figure out how it happened either.
He hasn't been near a woman in months.
Ohh, that's coffee.
Hawkeye...
Anybody coming in here telling me about more wounded
is sucking around for a lobotomy.
Captain Tuttle's gotta sign this requisition form
before Sister Theresa can get her next batch of supplies.
Listen, how did you come up with a name like Tuttle, anyway?
He was my imaginary childhood friend.
You had an imaginary friend?
Yeah, if anybody said "Who knocked over the garbage?"
I said "Tuttle".
If they said "Who broke that window?"
"Tuttle."
"Who wet the bed?"
Tuttle.
He had no control at all.
So when you got drafted...
He got drafted.
Just in case you wet your cot.
Precisely.
I‐I had an imaginary friend when I was a little boy.
Terrific.
Her name was Shirley.
Your imaginary friend was a girl?
Mm‐hmm.
What'd she look like?
Like me.
Only with tiny little breasts.
HAWKEYE: Out!
Out!
‐ Morning, sir. ‐ Morning, Radar.
‐ Sign these, please? ‐ Right.
Oh, those stockings came out nice, sir.
Yeah, my wife sent me some new soap powder.
‐Uh‐huh. ‐Uh, Where do I‐‐
Sign the original of each form, sir,
and initial the carbon copies.
Or if you want, you can sign the carbon copies
and initial the originals.
And then sign this form signifying that
you signed what you should have initialled.
Radar, do you really understand all this army stuff?
Uh, it helps not to be too bright, sir.
Uh, sir, would you sign
the supplementary supply form, please?
It only needs a countersignature.
Captain Tuttle's already OK'd it.
Right.
Captain Tuttle? Which one's Captain Tuttle?
Oh, you know, sir. That new man... Captain Tuttle.
Did I meet him yesterday at breakfast?
Yes.
Wait a minute.
I didn't have breakfast yesterday.
Then you must have met him somewhere else, sir.
Oh, right.
You put him in charge of supplementary supplies.
Oh, yeah, that's why he signed the supply form.
Tuttle. I knew I'd seen his name somewhere.
‐If you'll just OK the duty roster. ‐Yep.
Major Burns is Officer of the Day again?
He volunteered.
Frank always volunteers.
If we had a firing squad, he'd volunteer to be in charge of it.
Or in front of it... or both.
BOTH: Yes, sir.
I knew you'd say that.
Oh...
‐ Radar? ‐ Sir?
Let's give Frank a little help winning the war.
Sir?
What about Captain Tuttle?
What about him?
Well, has he ever pulled any OD duty?
No, sir.
Radar, if it's one thing I insist on
it's that every officer in my command pulls his fair share of the load.
No matter who he is.
Or isn't.
MAN (over P. A.): Attention! A change in the duty roster.
Tomorrow, Captain Jonathan S. Tuttle
will be Officer of the Day.
Frank, did you hear that?
But I volunteered.
If you're free tomorrow night,
I've got some new literature on pelvic deviations.
Margaret, I don't know any Captain Tuttle.
Do you? Tuttle?
Well, he must be new.
Well, then, why didn't he‐he report to me?
I'm second in command.
I'm sure Colonel Blake will get around to it,
once he finishes his laundry.
Yes, there he is.
Well, it's Tuttle's responsibility to present himself.
The man is obviously ignoring me.
Oh, Frank, why would he ignore you?
Guilt. He can't face the man he's gonna replace.
Who says he's going to replace you?
Everyone here's against me, Margaret.
Aw, only Pierce and McIntyre.
Did I tell you they glued my Bible together?
Oh, Frank...
And they drew fangs on my picture of Senator McCarthy.
My poor darling.
Why don't we just check out this Captain Tuttle ourselves.
Oh, Margaret, you're my snug harbour.
I don't know what I'd do if I didn't have you to sail into.
‐Corporal? ‐Sir?
‐Where's the colonel? ‐Colonel?
Colonel Blake?
Uh, I'm afraid he's doing
some very important sleeping for the army right now.
Typical.
I want to see the personnel file
on this new man, uh, Captain Tuttle.
Uh, sir, these files are locked.
I'm afraid you're gonna need a‐an authorization
from Colonel Blake.
‐Well, get it. ‐Wake him.
Uh, wake him?
Well, he could be dreaming up some new medicine
that could, uh, help all mankind.
Henry Blake? That launderette?
Well, I'll get an authorization
to see that Tuttle file.
Okay now, let's see. When was Tuttle born?
Um... how about, uh, 1924?
That was a good year for doctors.
Okay.
Mother?
Mmm, yes.
Father?
One.
Harry and Frieda Tuttle.
Birthplace?
Uh, hey, how about my hometown?
No, they've already got enough to be proud of.
‐How about, uh... ‐Battle Creek, Michigan.
Yeah, that's good. That's perfect.
Yeah, good.
Okay.
Um, uh... religion?
Uh... atheist.
I don't believe in atheism.
Let's make him a Druid.
‐What's that? ‐They worship trees.
Ahh, a tree surgeon.
Druid, reformed.
They're allowed to pray at bushes.
All right, now what about medical school?
Harvard.
No‐no, we can't make it anyplace they'll check.
Oh, how about, uh, um...
Berlin Polytechnic.
Perfect.
"Berlinishish Polyteshnico."
‐(whistling) ‐Oh...
Right after he graduated from Adolf Hitler High.
No, that's a bit much.
You should write fiction.
You should read my file.
All right, now a little something for Hot Lips.
Height: 6 feet 4.
Weight: 195 pounds.
Hair... auburn.
Eyes: hazel.
TRAPPER: Hawkeye...
Huh?
I think I'm in love.
I'd certainly like to know why it's so all‐fired important
for you two to see the file on Captain Tuttle.
Because neither the major nor I
remember ever having seen him,
and that strikes us as very strange.
Well, I've seen him.
I had breakfast with the man only yesterday.
Here it is.
"Tuttle, Jonathan, Captain.
"Serial number: 397‐299‐66."
"Berlinishish Polyteshnico."
Probably a Nazi.
(whistling) Very impressive.
Well, if you two will excuse me...
I told Tuttle I'd have lunch with him.
So long, Radar.
‐I'll hold down the fort. ‐Hold down the fort.
"Auburn hair, hazel eyes..."
Oh, for Pete's sake, Margaret. You're practically drooling.
Oh, Frank! You're not jealous?
Not jealous?
If I lost you to anyone,
I'd put a scalpel through my neck.
No, Frank! No, no, no.
Not here.
No one can see us or hear us.
HOULIHAN: Frank...
You know, there's still something spooky
about this Tuttle.
Now, I'll just call General Clayton
and have him check it out.
(buzzing)
Sir?
Corporal O'Reilly, get me General Clayton,
Headquarters, in Seoul.
Uh, yes, ma'am. Just a minute, ma'am.
Psst.
Get me Captain Pierce over here right away.
HQ, Seoul. This is Sergeant Pryor.
Hi, Sparky. This is Radar.
Hey, how are you doin', boy?
Fine. Hey, listen, Sparky...
Hey, I wanted to thank you for sending
the "Captain Marvel Annual".
It just come today.
Okay, okay, look... Uh, listen...
I'm gonna be making a call on this line any second.
I want you to patch it back to me.
(chuckling) Shazam!
What's up, Radar?
Major Houlihan is makin' a call to General Clayton.
RADAR: HQ Seoul on the phone, ma'am.
Thank you. Hello?
HQ Seoul, Sergeant Pryor.
Uh, General Clayton, please.
Major Margaret Houlihan.
Hello?
Hello, General? Major Houlihan.
Margaret, I do hope this is going to be
an obscene phone call. (laughs)
I‐I‐I wish it could be, sir.
That is, um...
I wonder if you might do me a favor.
You just say the word, Margaret,
and I'll get a hormone shot. (laughs)
Yes, sir. Uh‐huh.
What I want to know...
Say, what did you think of that new man
I sent down there? Uh, Tuttle?
You sent Captain Tuttle?
Yes, he's going to marry my niece.
Now try to keep him pure, Margaret.
If you can keep your hot little hands off him.
(laughs)
Goodbye, Margaret.
Hi, Frank.
Hmph.
You want what, Frank?
I want you to change my tent.
I want you to make Captain Tuttle my roomie.
Your roomie?
Well, General Clayton asked that I personally
look after him.
‐Tuttle? ‐Johnny.
Isn't it "Jonathan"?
Well, not to his close friends.
Yeah, well, uh, just leave it with me, Frank,
and I'll see what I can do.
I can only tell you Tuttle and I
are both anxious for the change.
We both speak the same language.
Right.
Radar, there's something going on with Major Burns.
Uh, yes, sir, with Major Houlihan.
I know one guy who got pictures.
No, I mean with Captain Tuttle.
Major Burns and Captain Tuttle, sir?
If there's one thing I'm not gonna have
in this outfit, Radar, it's politics.
I'm getting into this Tuttle business right now.
MAN (on P. A.): Uh, attention! Attention!
Captain Jonathan Tuttle will report to
Colonel Henry Blake, on the double.
Captain Jonathan Tuttle, report at once.
Should we go back inside and build one?
‐Where is he? ‐I dunno know, sir. Well, I mean it's not like Tuttle to keep me waiting.
Is it?
The last I saw him, he was in the compound, sir.
Want me to go check?
Oh, no, no, no, no, no.
‐I'll do it. ‐Volunteering again, Frank?
I don't want Tuttle to get in trouble with you, sir.
It's the least I can do for my buddy.
Buddies?
(blows raspberry)
‐Phillips! ‐Here.
Sterner!
‐Tuttle! ‐Yo!
Uh, Captain Tuttle?
No, Captain Pierce, MD, manic depressive.
Is that yours?
No, the only mail I'll accept
is a full apology from President Truman.
That is addressed to Captain Tuttle.
Very good, Frank.
You read well enough to be a druggist.
Where is he?
Who, Tuttle? He's in Post‐Op.
I'm gonna drop this off for him.
Oh, well, I can do that.
Oh, that's very kind of you, Frank.
It certainly belies all the vicious gossip
somebody is spreading about what a twisted,
selfish, mean‐spirited, overbearing fusspot you are.
It certainly does.
Then I'll stop spreading it.
You're not fit to be in the same camp
with a man like Captain Tuttle!
McIntyre?
Frank, if you're here to help,
all the bedpans have already been emptied.
Have you seen Tuttle?
You just missed him.
He's over at X‐ray with Hot Lips.
He said something about doing some chest pictures.
You're a liar.
Well, uh, loo‐‐ Excuse me, sir.
I‐‐ Well, don't let me interfere with your work.
I'll just, uh, put this package for you down and‐and‐and wait outside.
I‐I know what you're doing must be very important, sir.
That is, if you are doing it...uh...
Well, thank you very much.
Oh, Major!
Margaret, have you seen him?
‐Who? ‐Tuttle.
Pierce said he was with you.
McIntyre said he was with you!
Margaret, you haven't been seeing him secretly, have you?
Shh, Frank! There are people.
If I find out you're seeing Tuttle,
I'll put my head under a jeep.
Uh, j‐‐ Frank...
Frank, no one can take your place.
No matter how attractive I find Captain Tuttle.
Just as I thought.
Tuttle hasn't been paid in 14 months.
And he never said a word.
What a guy.
Soldier, where do I find Captain Jonathan Tuttle?
Uh, well, he's in surgery right now, sir.
Now where is that? I have a mess of back pay for him.
Uh, yes, he said I could take it and sign for him.
Corporal, when it involves this much money,
I have to get his signature.
I'm sorry, Captain Tuttle. I had to have you sign
to make sure that the signatures match.
You'd be surprised the number of people
that want to stick it to Uncle Sam.
I hope the lack of pay was not an inconvenience to you.
No‐no, fortunately, I'm independently wealthy.
My father invented bill padding.
Now you understand that all my future pay
is to go directly to Sister Theresa's orphanage.
You are an inspiration to us all.
I know.
‐Colonel? ‐Hmm?
It's for you. General Clayton.
General...?
Colonel Clayton, General Blake here, sir.
Steady, Henry.
Yes, sir.
Uh, I just call to offer my congratulations.
Well, that certainly means a lot coming from you, sir.
Uh, may I ask for what?
Well, I just got a letter from Sister Theresa.
Oh, I didn't know you had a sister.
She's a nun.
Oh, you must be very proud, sir.
Sister Theresa is a nun who runs an orphanage
near your outfit.
Oh, well, I mean, I don't know every nun in the, uh...
It's not my habit, sir, to, uh‐‐
That's not what I mean.
She told me that Captain Tuttle
donated 14 months' pay to her orphanage.
Well, we're all mighty proud of Captain Tuttle.
I was, uh, just telling him that, last night at dinner.
We've got to make our appreciation
more, uh, tangible, Henry.
I mean, it's one thing to admire a man's work.
But it's another thing to get
your picture in the paper doing it, huh?
Therefore, I've decided to come out
on the field tomorrow
and personally give Captain Tuttle a decoration.
Wow!
What's that?
I mean, uh, "Wow, sir."
‐Yes, sir? ‐Rad‐‐
Where is he? Where is Tuttle?
Captain Pierce went to get him, sir.
‐Radar, do I seem, uh‐‐ ‐Scared to death. Yes, sir.
Go hurry them up.
(jeep approaching)
One day he'll be coming to decorate you, Frank.
Well, it's easy for Tuttle. He had all the breaks.
Oh, Frank, don't be bitter.
He's a fine American.
The finest.
Our country can use all the Tuttles we can get.
General Clayton.
(camera clicking)
How do you do, Sister?
Good work. We're proud of you.
Well...
Shall we get on with it, Henry?
Eh, on with it. Uh, yes, General.
Well, where's Tuttle?
Oh, uh, he's coming, sir.
He's quite busy.
Busier than a Brigadier General?
Excuse me.
Would you tell Radar to tell Pierce
‐to tell Tuttle to get... ‐He's here, sir.
He's here, sir.
Uh, I mean...
He's here, sir.
General.
Pierce, isn't it?
Yes, sir.
I'm afraid you're not gonna like this, sir.
Well, then, uh, keep it to yourself, Pierce.
Tell us after we decorate Tuttle.
There is no Tuttle.
No Tuttle?
No Tuttle?
(soldiers murmuring)
Not any more, sir.
That's all that's left.
Well, how‐how'd it happen?
Well, you know Tuttle...
No sacrifice too great.
This morning, while the rest of us
were selfishly having a cup of coffee,
he went off in a helicopter to do some field surgery.
He jumped with his plasma, his bag...
everything an army doctor needs...
except his parachute.
Oh, how awful!
I'll see that he gets a personal citation for this.
I, uh, think that all of us who knew and loved Tuttle
would like to pay tribute to this, uh, heroic man.
And I think it's only fitting
that the man who knew him best,
Captain Pierce, deliver the eulogy.
That's not true. I knew him best.
Shh!
We can all be comforted by the thought
that he's not really gone,
that there's a little Tuttle left in all of us.
In fact, you might say that all of us together
made up Tuttle.
I'll never forget him.
Our grief will pass.
It's already hard to remember
exactly how Johnny looked,
how he talked.
His little laugh.
Thankfully, he's left behind a memorial.
I've been informed by Radar
that Captain Tuttle's GI insurance
named Sister Theresa's orphanage
as his sole beneficiary.
How typical.
We salute you, Captain Tuttle...
humanitarian and healer.
Good luck, Doctor...
in that great big waiting room in the sky.
He was the best damn OD we ever had.
Nice work. There wasn't a dry eye in the camp. Tuttle always brought out the best in me.
Yeah, I have a question.
Where'd you guys get the parachute and the dog tags?
Uh, that was Major Murdock.
‐Who? ‐Who's Major Murdock?
You know, Murdock? Tall, skinny guy.
Tuttle's replacement.
Oh, yeah, I had breakfast with him this morning.
♪♪♪ (theme)
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