The Working File

This episode was repeated last Sunday night. I wasn’t planning on posting about this episode, because it is a repeat from last season and therefore out of sync, but, damn, it is a beautiful piece of work.  I’m putting almost the entire discussion below the fold because of spoiler concerns.

While the fact of Hector’s death is apparent from the opening moments of the episode, including the recap of the prior episode, I do not want to spoil anyone who hasn’t seen that prior episode first. In that prior episode, the team is on a mission and Betty Blue gets shot and badly wounded pretty early. There was some buzz, and some rumors, that someone would die in that episode. The way it played out, it never seemed that Grey would die, and it also seemed that maybe all the buzz was a misdirection. Then Hector gets hit — all so suddenly — with a sniper bullet and that is just about where the episode ends.

On rewatching this a year after it first ran, I found myself fast forwarding through the scenes between Bob and the reporter.  This episode is about Hector Williams.  Hammerhead.

Every note is perfect, including when Col. Ryan and Sgt Medawar learn about Hector’s death in the command center, through the memorial ceremony at the end.

I was struck, as I was when this episode first ran, at how the Unit members treated the doctor who performed the autopsy on Hector. They seemed to be barely holding back some contempt, even though the doctor was as careful and respectful as he could be. He spoke with respect, handled Hector’s body with respect, and informed them of what he had to to and would do every step of the way. Yet it appeared that they couldn’t stand him. On this second viewing, it occurred to me that they did not resent the doctor personally, but rather resented that they could not perform his services themselves. They did everything else: they carried his body bag into the morgue; they cleared the ice; they placed the shroud; they took possession of the bullet that killed him; they closed his coffin; they draped the flag; they carried him out of the morgue and off the plane when he arrived home; they prepared his uniform, and appeared at his memorial service.

But they couldn’t perform the autopsy. I thin it killed them inside that they had to let someone else do that, no matter how respectful that doctor was.

I have two favorite moments in this episode. One is the scene shown in the top picture above. I was able to put it above the fold because it doesn’t give anything away, but the scene in which Jonas and Molly prepare Hector’s uniform for his burial is so beautiful. That particular shot is so basic — every director and cameraman knows that a shot framed through a doorway adds easy drama to a scene, but it just works here. Jonas and Molly both take their responsibility as Unit leaders very seriously. although not really that much older than the other soldiers and families in the Unit, they are much like parents, and the concomitant joys and responsibilities are both a source of pride and a burden to them.

The other moment — and it is no more than a moment — is a bit earlier, when Jonas comes ot the morgue, and takes custody of Hector’s body from the doctor. After the doctor leaves, Jonas pauses a moment, and there is this brief bit of dialogue:

Jonas: He’s awfully pretty.
Mack: Always was.

That exchange, just 5 words, carries so much meaning to me. I won’t even try to convey it. If you watch the episode you will either be similarly moved, or you won’t. But these men love and respect each other.

The episode title, Play 16, refers to the cover story that is necessary to explain Hector Williams’s death. Even after death, no one can know what these men do, so they are denied the appreciation they deserve. God bless the real men who serve under such conditions.