#glass booth

So, Houlihan and Burns (but Houlihan especially) are extremely upset that Radar seems to be getting romantic with an officer, Louise Anderson. Even though they only saw them talking together at lunch? With Hawk and Trapper also present? It strains credibility a bit. If pressed, I’d say that what this show is missing is any real heat between Radar and Lt. Anderson, beyond his smitten first encounter with her when he carries her bag. By now (14 episodes into season 1) the show’s creators should know that we’re in this mainly for the sex. Louise has a flirty moment with Hawkeye in her tent which surpasses anything that ever goes on between her and Corporal O’Reilly—this is just unfair.

That said, Kelly Jean Peters is great as the intellectual object of Radar’s affection. She looks like someone from now, maybe an adjunct professor at a Midwestern grad school, as much as like a 1950s military nurse. (She doesn’t look like a ‘70s lady at all, strangely enough.) Though her tastes in music and literature force Radar to jump through cognitive hoops and ultimately bore him to sleep, she succeeds in taking his mind off his broken engagement. Pity she didn’t come back a few years later to give Winchester a try.

My favorite parts of the episode are at the front end, however, before Anderson has even appeared. We see what made Gary Burghoff such a sublime Charlie Brown, as he sulks in the mess hall and lies in fetal position listening to his sweetheart’s “Dear John” record. (I wish I knew who did the voice of Linda Sue.) The doctors put him through a battery of tests to find the cause of his sadness, and he’s funny throughout, sweetly patient with a subtle air of irritation.

The episode title is a reference to the film of the same name, which was huge at that moment and a hundred times sappier than MASH. We’ll take Radar’s love life over Ryan O’Neal’s. We’ll also take Hawk and Trapper having “pillow talk” in Margaret’s bed.