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Interesting episode -- it felt like nothing and everything happened at once. It's Election Day, and everyone's waiting to see the results. Don and Bertram are interviewing people for the Account Services position, including some guy named "Duck Phillips." Pete once again makes his case for the position to Don, but Don is predictably unimpressed. When Don leaves for the day, everyone else in the office has a party to celebrate the fact that Nixon appears to be a mortal lock. Ken finds a one-act play Paul wrote, and the partiers end up putting on an impromptu performance then and there, which is impressive, given that I'm not sure how they can even see the words on the page at this point. Harry and Hildy share a long kiss; they admit they're both drunk, but end up totally going for it in his office. Later, as the tide in the election has started to turn, Joan and Paul are the only ones not passed out, and they talk and dance together. The result of the election is unclear, and there are cries of fraud all over the place. Glad we live in such a different era. When Peggy gets in the day, the office is trashed; some money and possessions of hers are missing, and she is pissed. Pete has opened Don's package, in which there are more photos of young Dick and Adam. Pete's wife confronts him and is aware that the stuff doesn't belong to him; she orders him to give it back, which he does, but not without blackmailing Don over his second identity, although he denies that that's exactly the case. Don tries to play it cool, but threatens Pete back in a not-so-veiled way, and when Pete's gone, Don really starts to panic. He goes to Rachel and begs her to go away with him, permanently; she's somewhat interested, but doesn't bite, and as his desperation grows, she gets more and more dismayed, and eventually calls him a coward and kicks him out. Don is beside himself, but when he returns to the office, Peggy ends up crying to him; apparently, she called Security about her missing things, and an elevator guy and a janitor, both innocents, got fired as a result. She tells Don that she follows the rules and tries to do her job, and people hate her as a result; meanwhile, horrible people get to walk around doing anything they want. This gives Don the steel he needs to deal with Pete; he calls him out for his utter lack of character and tells him he's hiring Duck Phillips, and adds that Pete should really reconsider telling Bertram about him, because he hasn't thought it through. When Pete doesn't back down, though, Don heads for Bertram's office to tell him himself; Pete wonders why he won't take the proffered way out, but soon the two of them are shoeless and in Bertram's office. Don tells Bertram about the hire; Pete in turn goes through with it and tells Bertram what he knows, which is that Don's real name is Dick Whitman, and that the real Donald Draper died ten years earlier. Bertram's response? "Mr. Campbell? Who cares." HA HA HA! That is the best thing that's ever happened in television history. Pete, utterly defeated, leaves, and Bertram tells Don to keep an eye on Pete. Finally, we get flashbacks from Don's Army days. As Dick Whitman, Don was timid and soft-spoken and had a farm accent; also, he joined the service to escape his origins. He worked on a hospital-building assignment with just one other person; they came under unexpected fire, but the real problem was that Dick accidentally dropped his lighter on some spilled gasoline that set off a huge explosion, killing his fellow soldier. The soldier's name? Lieutenant Donald Draper, with whom he switched dog tags. The new Don was supposed to take "Dick"'s body back to the Whitman family, but he dodged that responsibility, and his family took him for dead, although young Adam does catch a glimpse of him, as he once referenced. Not sure what the Draper parents thought when their son didn't come home, but we'll forget about that for now. Don arrives home to find Betty asleep in front of the TV, on which Nixon is apparently conceding, and ponders what Don Draper is going to do . Want more? The full recap starts right below!
We open on a close-up of a TV; the broadcast is telling us that it's late afternoon on Election Day. The institution of the Presidential election holds some bitter recent memories for me, but I'm sure the cheery general tone of this show will more than make up for that. A hand turns off the set, and we see that it belongs to Bertram; we're in his Japanese-themed office, and we get a quick glance at his shoeless feet before the door opens and Don enters with another man, whom he introduces as "Herman Phillips." The guy shakes Bertram's hand and genially says that actually, he goes by "Duck." Well, only if you insist. Don jokes (or not, hard to tell) that their research said they weren't to call him "Duck," and he should have told him, but Duck responds: "I like when you say 'Herman'." Hmm. We may want to have Sal sniff this guy out. Bertram sits, and Don informs him that Duck was in London with "Y and R." Bertram wonders, then, if this isn't a step down for him, and I in turn wonder if, given the show's concerted efforts to depict SC as bumbling and out of touch, if it isn't more like a tumble down the whole staircase. Duck says, though, that he'd welcome the opportunity to move back to "the power center of the world," and also to put on some weight, as English food leaves a lot to be desired. Well, sure, back in 1960, Duck. But having lived there forty-something years later, I can tell you that...you're still right. Duck and Bertram do a little verbal dance, and then Bertram asks whom he voted for. Duck: "If I say Nixon, you'll think I'm buttering you. And if I say Kennedy, you'll want to reform me, so I'll say Nixon." The man does his research. Bertram regards him long and inscrutably, and Duck gives Don a quizzical look before they head out. Currently in Duck's head: "Should have said Kennedy, should have said Kennedy. STUPID!"
The boys are in the main area, and Ken says he hears Bertram has a "smoker" at the Waldorf at 6. Harry: "Twenty-three skidoo!" Hee. That seems a little dated for the sixties, but I'm going to allow it. Everyone's in for a big watch-the-returns bash except for Pete, who claims to have a party at his in-laws to go to. Harry informs us that his wife has to work that night, as the phone company is a zoo on Election Night. Paul opines that, while a Nixon victory would be best for Sterling Cooper, that night will be a win-win for them: if Nixon wins, great, and if he loses -- he puts a hand on Ken's arm -- "let me console you!" The boys laugh, but with the amount of booze that surely will be consumed tonight, I could see some sexual fluidity occurring. And we haven't even gotten to Drama Hour yet. Everyone then observes Don leading Duck out; they note that this is the first interviewee that Don deemed worthy of bringing to Bertram. Ken whispers that he heard Duck disintegrated in London. "Got involved with some woman he met at the British Museum." Oh, dear. I hope they didn't do it on one of the Elgin Marbles. Those things have been through enough. They see Don sharing what seems like a warm handshake with Duck as Ken goes on that Duck is divorced and lives in a hotel. Well, that explains Don's affection -- Duck is living his ideal life. Harry speculates that Don is bargain hunting, since Duck is damaged goods, but Ken thinks he's the best candidate they've brought in. Through this last part, Pete swivels his head and watches Don like a psycho, just in case you weren't familiar with like, every moment of this season.
Pete goes striding up to Don's door, but Peggy cuts in, "Can I help you?" Thank GOD -- she's finally completely over him. I knew that belt would come in handy. She announces Pete to Don via the intercom, to his mild annoyance and my utter delight, and when Don gives the green light, Pete's lame comeback is "Thank you, sweetheart." Good one, dipshit. Inside, Pete continues to make the mistake he's been making all season by attempting to talk to Don as though they're equals; he tries to put Duck down while saying he's done everything he could to emulate Roger, and Don is very clearly not having any of it. Pete does better when he calmly details the clients with whom he has great relationships. "When Walter Waith needed a urologist, he called me for a recommendation!" Looks like Matherton's not the only one who's had the clap. Don concedes that he's good at his job, and says Bertram loves him (Um, what? The only time I remember them interacting at all, Bertram dismissively shot him down for his comparison of Kennedy to Elvis); however, he doesn't see what the hurry is. Pete, catching the snap, asks that Don think about it, and says that there are men younger than he with the job in question at bigger firms. He asks if Cooper signed off on Duck, and Don answers, "I'll keep you posted." Hopefully by braining you with a post.
Don heads for the door, and Harry solicitously tells him Nixon has a big lead while not really managing at all to hide his glee at the fact that the last authority figure is leaving for the day. (I should mention, incidentally, that the way they depict this election is false -- it was Kennedy who had the substantial early lead, but that makes for a less "Dewey Defeats Truman" kind of story.) Harry watches him go and makes an announcement when the doors close, and Ken yells, "Ollie ollie oxen free!" Everyone obeys and comes out into the main area, TVs and bottles of booze get pulled out...
...and sometime later, they're running low, and everyone's glum, as liquor stores are closed that night. Geez, who was in charge of planning this party? Because the sun is still out here, and as boozy as everyone here is, I can't imagine they wouldn't at least have bought enough to last until it's dark outside. Ken says Don has plenty of alcohol, and they all hilariously look over at Peggy like she's Cerberus or something. Just wait until you fuck with her stuff, gents. Ken suggests they ask Peggy to join them to soften her up, but Paul mentions that he's got a bottle of absinthe in his office. Oh, Paul. If you're going to drink something potentially lethal, at least wait until Pete is around to partake. Joan appears and mildly snarks on Paul, then asks for her drink to be freshened; when Paul complies but sighs that they're never going to make it, Joan gives them all an appraising look, and then tells Ken, "If I let you into that supply closet, it is not going to be the Sack of Rome." Just as well -- it's not like we're working with an HBO budget here. Ken asks what they have too much of, and Joan considers: "Rum, crème de menthe, dog biscuits..." Sounds like a party to me!
And indeed, Ken and Harry have emptied out a big water bottle and filled it with crème de menthe, and are now putting the bottle back on the dispenser. I think I would have stuck with the absinthe.
Sally is watching the election returns on TV as Betty reads a magazine and sips a glass of wine; Don gets home and rather pointedly ignores Betty. This is pretty much all you'll see of her this week, which means there's no Francine at all. I miss her, but it's just as well -- I already didn't get how she was managing to take care of the baby and still have time to show up to hilariously bother everyone over onHouse. We learn that "Kennedy" is closing the gap on "Nixon"...
...and then we're back at the party, where Ken chases one of the girls, "Allison," down, tackles her, and checks the color of her panties. Apparently this was once A Thing (called "scuttle"), although 1960 seems maybe a little late for it to be going on. But who knows. Twenty-three skidoo! And indeed, everyone seems to think it was all in good fun; the only ones who look mildly disapproving are Peggy and that one switchboard operator with the glasses ("Marge" is her name), who sighs that she used to think she'd find a husband at SC. Wow, she's feeling disillusioned even while wearing crème de menthegoggles. Peggy says she's going to go; Marge tries to get her to stay, but Peggy gives her a Mona Lisa smile that clearly means, "Yeah, RIGHT." I finally figured out that painting! Switchboard Girl takes Peggy's drink and uses it to top off her own. Heh, nice.
Pete is at home in his pajamas, looking at the contents of the box Adam intended for Don. There are numerous photographs inside, and one is of the two Whitmans as boys, and is labeled "Dick and Adam, 1944." First off, as probably everyone has noted, the timeline is fucked here -- given that he seems to be about thirty-five now, you'd put Don at college age in 1944. Secondly, don't people usually label photos with the exact date on which they were taken? This show's attention to detail is typically so unwavering that I find myself surprised at even a tiny error like this. That's meant as a compliment, show! Don't be offended! Trudy emerges from the bedroom and confronts Pete about the box; she mentions that "Myrna" (probably the maid) found it in the top of the closet, and while Trudy didn't look at it, she's well aware that it doesn't belong to Pete. "My father had a box like that and I looked at it when I was a little girl, and it was a mistake." I wonder if her dad knew John Cheever. Anyway, Trudy says she doesn't want secrets, and she knows he's been looking at the box for weeks. She tells him to give it back, and that his obsession with it is "peculiar." I wouldn't have picked Trudy as having a gift for understatement. She heads back to bed, inviting him to come with her, and he sits and considers her words.
Back at the office, the party's still going on, and Ken and Blue Panties Allison come out from Paul's office as Ken says he couldn't find any absinthe. Paul's cheesed that Ken went in his office, and gets more so when Ken produces a one-act play called "Death Is My Client" that Paul apparently wrote. It's funny how these guys all write in their spare time. They'd totally be competing for blog hits if the internet had been invented yet. Ken starts to read it aloud, and Paul loses his temper and keeps trying to grab it away...
...but then, everyone's solemn and a model of decorum as they're getting ready to do a reading of the play. HA! I swear, the way this show keeps zigging when you expect it to zag is just brilliant. Sal and Joan are the principal players, with Hildy reading the stage directions, I think, and Paul's the overly-invested director, even smoking a pipe as he mutters to himself. So funny. Everyone else is set up on chairs watching; when Sal makes a comment about not being some "boorish natural like that hat [not familiar with that particular sense of that word, but that's what he says, and the closed-captioning agrees] Cosgrove [Ken's surname]," Ken guffaws in disbelief and is like, "That's crackerjack, Kinsey." Paul looks sullen as he thinks, "Just wait 'till my one, ass." The scene ends with Sal and Joan stage-kissing; everyone applauds, but Joan's got this "Oh, I SEE" look on her face. I hope she does -- she'd be the best fag hag in the whole wide world.
The crème de menthe is at critical levels, but that's not stopping everyone from dancing to polka music; Sal and Joan match each other's moves expertly, a touch I loved. Ken quiets everyone, though, as a critical return is coming in -- Nixon has carried Ohio. (That one's true.) Everyone cheers, and Harry happily kisses Hildy on the lips, but she looks at him for a moment, and then returns the favor with one that crosses the line. Realizing that, she breaks it and apologizes, saying she's very tipsy; embarrassed in turn, he leaves...
...and retreats to his office, where she catches him. They both apologize again, but when Harry tells her, taking off his glasses, "I'm drunk, I'm happy...I'm not myself," she sees that for the tacit invitation it is. She compliments his eyes, and there's a moment of anticipation and nervousness before they totally start macking and slam the door.
Probably much later, the TV announcer is saying that while California is still undecided, the candidates have gone to bed. As have most of the SC partiers -- Joan and Paul are the only ones still conscious. After Joan turns off the TV, Paul invites her to sit with him; after some preliminaries, she does, saying that he looks so different when he's drunk. Probably true, Joan, but I'd imagine the gallon of crème de menthe you had might be affecting your perception as well. As shown in the previouslies, it was implied in the first episode that Paul and Joan had dated at one point, or at least that there was some level of involvement somewhere along the line, and oblique reference is made to that here, with him asking if she's going to call him Orson Welles again, and her countering that he loved that. He looks at her adoringly and asks what he did wrong, and she tells him he's got a big mouth. He protests, but she repeats the accusation, and he cops to it. He asks if she liked the play, and she tells him no. Paul: "The meaner you are, the more I like you." I like Joan too, but I have to tell you, Paul -- that's kind of clichéd for an aspiring writer. He gets up and offers her his hand, asking her to dance, she accepts, and they do a little drunken cha-cha that's far more affecting than you might expect it to be.
The sun is up, and Harry awakens to find a half-naked Hildy on top of him. He kind of freaks, especially when he discovers that his glasses somehow broke in half. The scene is as uncomfortable as you'd think, with Hildy slipping back into secretary mode by telling him where he can find an optometrist, and then saying that he shouldn't be worried -- it didn't mean anything. It's the only response available to her, and we cut to her leaving the office full of worry and dread. Taking a bit of the edge off is that Allison then emerges from what I'm guessing is Ken's office. Seems only fair that she got to see his underwear.
Peggy arrives in a dull tan wool coat and hat combo that I think my grandmother owned, and is grossed out when she sees crème de menthe spilled in her wastebasket. In the break room, Ken, Sal, and Paul are downing some hangover-cure brew; Peggy comes in and dumps out her basket, and then sees all the lockers in disarray; she rushes over and sees that her extra shirt (nice touch, there) and spare money are gone. She's pissed, and when the boys are not appropriately outraged on her behalf, she tells them she's reporting the theft to Building Security. When she's gone, the boys snark on her...
...and then we cut to Bertram, who's getting a massage in his office. No wonder he's so chill in the upcoming scene with Don and Pete. Don enters, complaining about the result of the election being unclear. Bertram sighs that there are widespread allegations of fraud on Kennedy's part going around (true to history) and if California ends up going to Nixon, he wins (false; it actually did eventually go to him, and Kennedy still won the EC by a wide margin -- it was Texas and Illinois that were the swing fraud states). Don asks if Nixon's really supposed to walk away and concede, but Bertram tells him that a recount in Illinois alone would mean "thirty days without a President." Well, really, it means thirty days without a President-elect, but maybe this is a subtle jab at Eisenhower. Bertram adds that if Kennedy was willing to buy an election, he's probably willing to play ball with them. That...doesn't sound complimentary to anyone involved. Don thinks the whole thing doesn't sound fair. Bertram: "Fair. Very good." Heh. Robert Morse is awesome, and I haven't even gotten to everyone's favorite scene in the whole world yet.
Pete approaches Don's door with the rewrapped package under his arm; he again blows by Peggy, and she in turn again asks him where he thinks he's going. This time, though, he imperiously (well, that's what he tries for, at least) turns and informs her she should take care in the way she speaks to him. Big words from a guy who's returning his ace in the hole because his wife called him "peculiar." Inside, Don's reading the paper, when Pete enters, he echoes Peggy's "Can I help you?" Heh, nice. Pete "explains" that the package is Don's and came to him by mistake; he carefully omits the "two weeks ago or so" that should end that sentence. He then asks if Don's reconsidered his qualifications. Don: "Would it disappoint you if I told you it hadn't crossed my mind?" I'll take Pete's quivering lower lip as a yes. He turns to go, but reconsiders for a long moment and then closes the office door; after some quick preliminaries, he gets to the point -- he knows that Don's name is really Dick Whitman; also, his friend at the Department of Defense told him that according to their records, Dick Whitman died in Korea in 1950, and Donald Draper "dropped off the map, although he's forty-three years old, in which case you look remarkably good." Of course, this doesn't explain how it is that no one ever came inquiring about the real Don Draper, but I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. Don has kept silent up to this point, probably because he knows his voice would betray the fear that's clearly been mounting behind his eyes, but he pulls himself together, first trying to pooh-pooh the story, and then attempting to kick Pete out with a display of ersatz boredom and irritation. Pete, however, isn't fooled, and he warns Don he should think about Bertram's reaction when he hears this news. Don rises and says that it sounds like Pete is blackmailing him, which Pete denies. "I'm hoping you'll realize that this all can be forgotten." Sorry, Pete, but this still sounds like the dictionary definition of "blackmail" to me. If this is indicative of your handle on the English language, no wonder the New Yorker doesn't want you. Realizing that Pete isn't backing down, Don goes for implied menace, saying that such powerful information might be enough to get him to do something else. If he'd led with this, he might have gotten somewhere, especially given how he's just towering over Pete in this shot, but Pete has smelled too much of Don's desperation up to this point to be intimidated now. He urges Don once more to think about the proffered way out, and leaves. When he's gone, Don looks panicked, and gets even more so when he opens the box and sees all the photographic evidence. We linger on a shot of his back rather than his face, as if to emphasize his loss of identity...
...and then we get a piece of the puzzle, as in flashback, at night, a military transport truck comes to a stop somewhere. The soldier on the passenger's side of the cab hops out; he goes and knocks on the side of the truck, and calls, "Whitman!" Dick, in full gear, gets out, and the soldier that's been waiting for the truck's arrival is chagrined, as he was expecting twenty men, not just one, and the job that he expected to take two days will now stretch out to a month. The soldier from the cab is singularly unimpressed and takes his leave, and the other guy bails in disgust as Don follows. If it's any consolation, dude, Don does enough lying for twenty men.
The two guys enter a tent; Don nervously stands at attention until the other guy gives him the "at ease" command. As you've no doubt surmised, this man is Lieutenant Donald Draper, and he tells Dick that the tent they're in is for officers, and he can bunk door. "I'd introduce you to the men, but you're looking at the complete company." That's one way to make sure no funny business happens, I guess. Dick, in a soft, quavery voice that doesn't sound at all like himself, partially because he's got that farm accent for which Roger called him out, asks where everyone is, and Don tells him they were gone when he got there. He also mentions he's an engineer, and says that Dick will be doing all the digging for the field hospital they've been tasked with building -- they need to establish fighting positions on all four sides of the site. And Dick has to do all the digging? I'm all for delegating, but this seems a little extreme. Don asks Dick what brought him into the Army, and he says he enlisted, which Don finds hard to believe. Don, for his part, they "got" him with college, but he's three and a half years in, which makes him practically a civilian. "I'm supposed to be building swimming pools, not latrines." He asks if Dick's any good with his rifle, and Dick says he's had some practice, yes. Don asks Dick why he enlisted, and Dick tells him he "just wanted to leave." Don: "I bet you're reconsidering if this was a step up." Not so clear, given what we've seen of Dick's past, and his expression looks like he's actually trying to do that math.
And back in his office, Don is trying to figure things out as well, as he lights a cigarette and looks like his mind is going in twenty different directions, at least. He reaches for the phone, drops it back...
...and then Rachel's assistant is buzzing and telling her that Don is there to see her. She asks her to hold her calls, and then the man himself enters. He pulls her over for a long kiss, and she notices he's flushed. He asks her to go away with him, maybe to L.A., and she's charmed at first, but she quickly gets the sense that all is not well, and he verbally confirms that. "Something happened, and...I want to go, and I want you to come with me, and I don't want to come back." I'm no ad man, but I'm thinking this pitch lacks refinement. You're making her sound like a gun moll here. She inquires as to what happened, but he asks her, too sharply, why it matters -- isn't this what she wants? She admits that she's thought about it, but it clearly doesn't feel right, and she walks away and lights a cigarette, trying to get a firm handle on her thoughts. She realizes that this isn't how she wants him, and as his desperation starts to flow freely, she begins to get agitated, asking what would be in store for his children. He tells her he'll provide for them, although I doubt he's even considered the logistics of such an undertaking, and Rachel echoes my sentiments: "My God, you haven't thought this through." She asks if he really wants his children to grow up without a father, especially since he knows what that feels like; he heatedly and with a hint of contempt asks her if she's having an attack of conscience, but she refuses to be cowed, saying that she's asking because she suddenly feels like she doesn't know him. Well, given that he seems to consider that a prerequisite for marriage, Rachel, maybe this is a step in the right direction. He tries to tell her that she knows more about him than anyone, which from what we've seen is almost certainly true, but she points out that he won't even tell her what happened, and when he refuses to take this last chance to come clean, she gets angry with him for even foisting this upon her, for tempting her to become complicit in the plot to abandon his family. He breathes that people do it every day, which is exactly the wrong thing to say, and she seethes that their involvement was just a cheap affair, as he doesn't want to run away with her -- he just wants to run away. I don't think that's completely true, yet the larger point that his behavior is the ultimate act of selfishness is taken. Her eyes fill as she tells him he's a coward; he looks baldly stunned both at that revelation and at how quickly and completely everything has unraveled for him, and she, in no uncertain terms, tells him to go, which he does. Poor dear. Will the Jews' suffering never end?
The elevator doors at SC open, and we see Don, who looks at least like he's recovered some of his equanimity. When he enters his office, though, he finds Peggy on his couch, holding a handkerchief to her eyes. She hastily rises so he can chew her out; she starts to apologize, as she thought he wasn't coming back, but she can't finish her thought and breaks down again. And while I'm really glad the show didn't go the "Peggy's pregnant with Pete's child" route, I have to admit that a small part of me would have loved to see the look on Don's face if she'd broken that news to him right here. Don silently argues with himself about what to do for several seconds before telling her to calm down and pouring her a drink; he tells her he didn't mean to yell at her -- it's just that there has to be some semblance of privacy around there. She tells him she had to get away from "them" for a little while, and I'd bet she came into Don's office because she didn't want to be like that one girl who was crying in the bathroom so many episodes ago. Anyway, the sentiment about privacy obviously has a deeper meaning for him, given what happened with Pete, but what he doesn't know is that it echoes Peggy's feelings as well, as she tells him that "Sonny" from the elevator and some unnamed janitor got canned -- when she called Security about her missing things, they ended up taking the fall, even though there weren't even there the night before. Don's not particularly impressed with this story, although he might just be wondering how long the makeup department had to work to give Elisabeth Moss the five chins she's currently sporting. He tells her he needs to be alone, and she starts to go, but turns back to tell him that she tries to do her job and to follow the rules, and people hate her for it. "Innocent people get hurt, and..and other people, people who are not good, get to walk around doing whatever they want. It's not fair." Now that she's speaking his language, he's moved, as he softly tells her to finish her drink. It would have been nice if he'd bussed his own glass rather than hand it to her, but we can only expect so much. When she's gone, he looks pensive...
...and then he heads right into Pete's office. No one appears to be there to stop him, and if that means Hildy took a much-needed day off, more power to her. Pete is creepily sitting on his couch with the lights off, and rises to face Don. Without introduction, Don tells him he thought about what he said, and then he thought about Pete, "and what a deep lack of character you have." Interesting assessment coming from a man who was about to abandon his family, but this is Pete Campbell we're talking about. Pete closes the door and smarmily tries to pass off an air of "hey, it's just business," but when Don, whose righteous anger on Peggy's behalf has steeled him to take Pete on, firmly tells him that he's hiring Duck, he tells him not to make him go to Bertram. Don rightly points out that he's not making Pete do anything, and it's clear the fear is gone as Don echoes Rachel: "You haven't thought this through." I guess Don isn't running off to Los Angeles with Pete, then. Don asks if Pete really expects Bertram to promote him for bringing him this news, "after the way you've behaved?" I more wondered if Bertram would do anything simply because the company needs Don now more than ever, but we're getting really close and I don't want to ruin it. Pete tells Don that he may be right, but he's pretty sure Don won't be working at SC anymore. Don heads out...
...but he doesn't return to his own office, instead making for Bertram's, which is enough for Pete to catch him by the arm and ask him what he's doing; he can't believe that "you would rather blow yourself up than make me Head of Accounts." Don gives him a long look that I interpret as meaning, "I'd rather slice off my own skin, then blow myself up." He moves, and Pete gets in front of him again and asks why Don can't give him what he wants. He's earned this job! Don asks why: "Because your parents are rich? Because you went to prep school and you have a five-dollar haircut?" If that last is true, I don't need to do the inflation-conversion math to tell you that Pete got ripped off there. But this obviously is all about the Nixon vs. Kennedy parallel -- self-made man versus product of money and privilege. Not that it completely holds up in this episode, but once again I'm gleefully getting ahead of myself. Pete asks if it would really be so bad to give him the job. "Why is this so hard for you?" Not to give Pete credit for anything, but it is a good question, even beyond the parallel as already discussed. I mean, Don paid Adam five grand to go away; even if you grant him the credit that it was partially motivated by his desire to take care of his brother, the main reason was clearly to protect his secret. And while I'd point out that giving Pete the job probably wouldn't solve anything -- the unscrupulous scumbag would most likely leverage Don's secret for eternity -- still, rather that pursue the course he's currently on, he could stick with his original instinct by running away and starting over someplace. But now he's committing to this identity regardless of the consequences, which means I guess we have to thank Pete for being more unctuous than Don or anyone else could ever have dreamed was possible. Anyway, just to drive home the theme, as Don walks off, Pete stands to a TV on which Kennedy is presumably making his victory speech...
...and then Don has made it to Bertram's door and is obediently, given Bertram's Japanese-themed office, removing his shoes. Pete catches him and follows suit, and they head in. Bertram diffidently looks up from some business with pen and paper and warns that if Don's looking to drown his sorrows, he's not really much of a drinker. Don, however, tells Bertram that he's hiring Duck, and Bertram congratulates him and goes back to what he's doing as Don looks at Pete like, "Well, Tough Guy?" Bertram then seems to notice Pete for the first time and asks him what's going on, and although I really never imagined that Bertram would fire Don, I was not at all sure that Pete would go through with it here. But he does, albeit with the disclaimer that the information he's relaying came to him by accident ("chance" would have been a better word) and he's only doing so for the good of SC. Your toadying nature is noted, Pete. Again. Get on with it. As Don stares daggers at Pete, Pete tells Bertram about Don's true identity, and says that it stands to reason that Don is a deserter at the very least. When Pete's done, Don lights a cigarette, which is a nice touch -- it's like he's having the last smoke before the firing squad executes him. That of course is said with the realization that attaching meaning to something that happens ten thousand times an episode may be reading into things a bit. Bertram takes a long moment to consider, gets up and moves close to Don, looking him right in the eye, and then turns his attention to Pete with this: "Mr. Campbell. Who cares?" I normally hate to repeat things I wrote in the recaplet, but I'll make an exception here: HA HA HA! Oh my God, nothing I write could possibly express the unbridled joy I felt at those four words. Don and Pete look equally bewildered, and Bertram takes care to cover his own ass by saying Pete has "imagined" the information in his accusation, but even if it were true, the country was built by men who have done far worse things (nice dig at Kennedy there), and adds that the Japanese have a saying: "A man is whatever room he is in." He pointedly counsels Pete that there's more profit in forgetting this information, and he'd be well advised to focus his energy on bringing in business. Pete looks at Don balefully, and Don is either too smart or still too stunned to gloat. Pete bails, and Bertram tells Don he's allowed to fire Pete if he wants, but it might be smarter not to. "One never knows how loyalty is born." Oh my God, how I love Bertram -- notice how that statement can apply not just to Don and Pete, but to Don and him. Robert Morse fucking rules. Don slowly leaves...
...and then we're back in Korea, and it's brightly sunny as Dick digs away. Don hears an incoming and jumps in the trench with Dick just as a rocket explodes very near them. Dick, in a panic, asks what to do, and Don cautions him to keep his head and not shoot at anything unless it shoots at him first. A few more explosions occur, and then comes the unnerving silence. They wait a short length of time, but Don then decides the danger's over and stands and laughs. The TV cliché would be for him to be gunned down right there, and once again, the show skirts the obvious possibility. Dick gets to his feet and asks if the enemy will be back; as he lights a cigarette, Don says he doesn't know, but it helps that they didn't shoot back. As Dick goes to light his own smoke, Don smiles that Dick pissed himself; we pan down to see that's indeed the case, and Dick starts wiping the spot with his hand. Unfortunately, in doing so, he drops his ignited lighter right on some spilled gasoline. Don follows it and tries to stamp it out, but within a second, it's reached the numerous nearby fuel tanks, causing a massive explosion that sends Dick flying toward the camera, and bathes the screen in white...
...and then we fade back to Dick, lying in a hospital bed. This scene goes quickly back and forth between Dick in the military hospital and Dick right after the explosion, so I'm just going to do the same: Dick sits up, his left arm clearly injured. A voice asks "Lieutenant Draper" how he's doing. Dick staggers over to the gas tanks, by which we can see a bloody, mangled body. The presumably superior officer starts to read a ceremonial speech. Dick comes closer to the body. The colonel or whoever gives "Don" the Purple Heart. Someone else tells "Don" that his concussion was minor, and he'll feel like himself in a week. I'm thinking it might take a little longer than that. Dick stares at Don's body. The colonel tells "Don" that he's being released to the reserves for his last eighty days (remember that Don was almost finished with his tour of duty). "You're goin' home." "Don" presumably has enough of a handle on the situation not to piss himself again at those words. Dick, in tears, takes off his dog tag and throws it at Don's corpse. The doctor tells him he's going to be okay. We get a close-up of Don, whose face is burned beyond recognition, and Dick takes Don's tag for himself. So there's the answer to the mystery of how Dick became Don, and I should have guessed the bit about the dog tags, but only because it was a plot point in an episode of Fantasy Island that I saw when I was ten. The Colonel tells "Don" that he's the last person who knew "Dick," and they'd like him to take him home. "Don" has no response, so they leave him and move on to the bed to greet "Lieutenant Nelson." If that's his real name. ["Is his name 'Armin Tamzarian'? Because that would be perfect." -- Joe R]
"Don," healed and in uniform, is on a train with another officer. It stops at a station, and the accompanying officer gets up and "informs" "Don" that this is where they're going. The coffin is unloaded, and "Don" hesitantly gets up and looks out the window, where he sees Uncle Mack and Abigail standing grimly, with Adam by Mack's side. The other officer calls "Don"'s name, and he looks at him and tells him to just go, as he can't. As the coffin is deposited in front of the family, Adam turns and, as he said in "5G," sees Dick. He tries to tell the adults, but they of course don't pay him any mind. A young woman on the train unsolicitedly remarks that it must be hard, but he's got his whole life ahead of him. "Forget that boy in the box." She offers to "buy a soldier a drink," and as the train starts to pull away, Adam chases after Dick, calling his name. Why he didn't do that when the train was standing still and he actually could have caught him is a question with which I won't bother. Forget that boy in the noose!
The train from then fades into the train from now, as Don arrives at his stop. Cut to him entering his home, wherein Betty is asleep on the couch, and on the TV, Nixon is apparently making his concession speech. Don watches and wonders what to do now. There's one more episode -- we'll find out.
"Don," healed and in uniform, is on a train with another officer. It stops at a station, and the accompanying officer gets up and "informs" "Don" that this is where they're going. The coffin is unloaded, and "Don" hesitantly gets up and looks out the window, where he sees Uncle Mack and Abigail standing grimly, with Adam by Mack's side. The other officer calls "Don"'s name, and he looks at him and tells him to just go, as he can't. As the coffin is deposited in front of the family, Adam turns and, as he said in "5G," sees Dick. He tries to tell the adults, but they of course don't pay him any mind. A young woman on the train unsolicitedly remarks that it must be hard, but he's got his whole life ahead of him. "Forget that boy in the box." She offers to "buy a soldier a drink," and as the train starts to pull away, Adam chases after Dick, calling his name. Why he didn't do that when the train was standing still and he actually could have caught him is a question with which I won't bother. Forget that boy in the noose!
The train from then fades into the train from now, as Don arrives at his stop. Cut to him entering his home, wherein Betty is asleep on the couch, and on the TV, Nixon is apparently making his concession speech. Don watches and wonders what to do now. There's one more episode -- we'll find out.