M*A*S*H

I was first introduced to M*A*S*H by my mom. She was a big fan of the show, and some of my earliest memories are of sitting beside her on the couch, watching reruns together. At first, I was drawn in by the laughter and the antics, but as I grew older, I began to appreciate the deeper themes and the humanity at the heart of the series. Later, I began to appreciate the deeper themes and the humanity at the heart of the series. Looking back, I realize that those evenings with her, simply sharing the experience of the show, planted the seeds for the empathy and perspective I try to bring to my work today.

Growing up, I watched a lot of television, but few shows left as deep a mark on me as M*A*S*H. The series, set in a mobile army surgical hospital during the Korean War, was more than just a sitcom—it was a meditation on the absurdity of war, the resilience of the human spirit, and the daily struggle to remain compassionate in the face of trauma. As a mental health provider today, I often find myself reflecting on how M*A*S*H—and especially the character of Hawkeye Pierce—shaped my approach to empathy, care, and even my understanding of how war is waged on both the battlefield and the mind.

Alan Alda as Hawkeye Pierce in M*A*S*H. Source: Wikimedia (Public Domain)

Hawkeye: The Flirt, the Healer, the Human

Hawkeye Pierce, played by Alan Alda, is often remembered for his irreverent humor, relentless pranks, and, yes, his flirtatiousness. But beneath the wisecracks and the martinis, Hawkeye was the moral center of the 4077th. He was a subversive, anti-war liberal with a relentless wit, but also a deep commitment to saving lives and alleviating suffering.

It’s true that Hawkeye was a flirt, and the show’s early seasons sometimes played this for laughs in ways that don’t always age well. But as the series matured, so did Hawkeye. His relationships with women; especially with Major Margaret Houlihan, evolved from objectifying banter to genuine respect and friendship. Loretta Swit, who played Margaret, has said that their bond was “based on deep love and respect,” and that the show ultimately chose to portray them as professional allies and friends rather than romantic partners. This growth mirrored the show’s own shift from broad comedy to nuanced drama, and it taught me that empathy and respect are not static; they are skills we practice and refine, especially in high-stress environments.

War, Trauma, and the Cost of Caring

M*A*S*H was, at its core, an anti-war show. It used the Korean War as a stand-in for the then ongoing conflict in Vietnam, but its message was universal: war is a failure of humanity, and its true cost is measured in shattered lives and wounded minds. The show didn’t shy away from the psychological toll of war, either. In the series finale, Hawkeye suffers a breakdown and is institutionalized. A storyline that, even today, resonates with anyone who has witnessed trauma up close.

As a mental health provider, I see echoes of Hawkeye’s journey in my own work. The way he used humor as a coping mechanism, the moments when he broke down, and the times he reached out for help. All of these are deeply human responses to overwhelming stress. M*A*S*H was one of the first shows to portray mental health not as a punchline, but as a serious, ongoing struggle. The presence of Dr. Sidney Freedman, the camp psychiatrist, was a reminder that even healers need healing, and that seeking help is a sign of strength, not weakness.

Empathy in the Face of Absurdity

What M*A*S*H taught me, and what I try to bring to my own practice, is the importance of empathy, even when it feels like the world is falling apart. Hawkeye’s refusal to become numb to suffering, his insistence on seeing each patient as a person, and his willingness to challenge authority in the name of compassion are all qualities I aspire to. The show’s blend of humor and heartbreak, its willingness to confront the darkest aspects of war while still finding moments of connection and joy, is a model for how to survive, and help others survive the absurdities of life.

In the end, M*A*S*H wasn’t just about war. It was about what it means to care, to endure, and to keep our humanity intact in the face of chaos. Hawkeye Pierce, with all his flaws and virtues, remains a reminder that empathy is both a choice and a practice. One that can change lives, including our own.