It wasn’t a question the host usually asked in an interview about Colonel Potter.
They were in a quiet podcast studio, decades after the dusty tents of the 4077th had been packed away.
The host, a massive MASH* fan, had been discussing the legacy of the show, but then he suddenly pivoted to Harry Morgan’s debut episode, “The General Flipped at Dawn.“
This was before Harry was cast as the definitive Colonel Potter, back when he played the delusional Major General Bartford Hamilton Steele.
Harry, his trademark twinkling eyes and gentle chuckle filling the room, leaned back in his chair.
“General Steele. A completely different breed than Potter. What a ride that was.” He smiled, remembering the intensity and the fun of that first appearance.
The character, as fans recall, was obsessed with the idea of a mobile army surgical hospital being truly mobile, demanding they move the entire camp constantly.
The script for his introduction required General Steele to review the entire 4077th from horseback, riding down the center of the camp as a massive inspection.
“We were on location, I believe it was at the Ranch where we shot the outdoor scenes,” Harry explained. “And they brought in this beast of a horse. Huge thing. And I’m supposed to be this commanding general, completely in control, delusional, thinking I’m reviewing the troops for General MacArthur.“
The tensions were high; it was Harry Morgan’s first day on the set, his chance to make a lasting impression on the established cast and crew. The character had to stop on a precise mark, look over the assembled medics and nurses, and deliver a performance that perfectly balanced the General’s military insanity with comedic absurdity.
Everything was set. The cast, the extras in uniform, the cameras, the director (let’s use Gene Reynolds, a frequent force behind the camera). The whole MASH* company was present, watching this veteran actor establish his place.
“The scene was intricate,” Harry continued. “The camera was tracking me as I rode down the line of tents. I had to look witheringly at the medics, convey that General Steele knew exactly what was wrong with the unit, and prepare to deliver my first big introductory monologue.“
He rode toward the designated spot, a precise patch of dry dirt directly in front of the center camera, prepared to stop the horse on the mark and address the company.
“The horse didn’t seem to get the memo.“
The moment arrived.
The horse, a magnificent animal named Buster, decided that instead of stopping on the mark, it would drift casually past it, turning slightly as Harry opened his mouth to deliver his intense, character-defining address.
Harry was left mid-delusional glare, continuing his speech while the massive animal under him simply ignored the cue and wandered toward a prop. It wasn’t just a slight error; it was a fundamental prop failure that turned the moment from commanding madness to absolute absurdity.
Without missing a beat, instead of calling ‘cut’ or looking confused, Harry leaned into the moment. Realizing the horse was undermining the General’s authority, he looked at the beast with genuine fury and ad-libbed, “Whoa, general! Whoa! This is an inspection, not a social calls list, you equine imbecile!” The horse, apparently responding to authority, immediately stopped, then lowered its head to inspect a prop medical kit nearby.
“The whole set held its breath,” Harry recalled, laughing. “Alan Alda and the rest of the cast were standing in the line, and I could see their expressions. Alan’s mouth was slightly open; he didn’t know if he was watching a dramatic moment or a comedy sketch. The director, Gene, didn’t stop the cameras. He wanted to see how I’d handle it.“
For the next minute, Harry spent the entire take entirely improv-ing his character’s reaction to the uncooperative animal, lecturing it on the chain of command, the strategic importance of the 4077th, and the direct consequences of insubordination from any element of the ‘inspection apparatus.‘ He demanded the horse ‘stand to attention’ and ‘present itself for review.‘
The crew was practically vibrating from trying to remain silent. The camera operator was visibly shaking the heavy tracking camera, a common sign on the MASH* set that everyone was desperately fighting laughter. The tracking shot had a slight, continuous wobble as a result.
When Gene Reynolds finally yelled “CUT!” the entire set erupted. Alan Alda and the rest of the main cast were doubling over in hysteria. Harry said, “Even the horse seemed to exhale a sigh of amusement.“
Gene Reynolds ran onto the set, wiping actual tears of laughter from his eyes. “Harry, that was brilliant! That was General Steele handling a chaotic subordinate element! We’re using that in the cut!“
The prop mishap, rather than ruining Harry Morgan’s debut, gave his performance a layer of spontaneity and manic humor that defined General Steele. It set the tone for the character and proved immediately that Harry was a perfect fit for the show’s blend of the serious and the absurd.
The accident, and how professionally Harry used it, instantly made him an inside legend among the cast and crew. When he returned as Colonel Potter, that story was often the first one new cast members would hear. They’d whisper, “That’s the guy who gave orders to a horse.“
“It was a funny thing,” Harry reflected. “I thought I’d ruined my professional reputation on the very first take. But what I really learned was the unique magic of MASH*. The accidents were sometimes the finest moments.“
“The real key,” he added, “was having a crew and a company willing to embrace the chaos and find the humor.“
His gentle reflection left a warm silence in the studio.
Have you ever had a moment at work where a total accident turned into your favorite story?
