Klinger wears a dress for the final time in this series. Surprisingly, he was wearing it for an reason other than trying to get out of the army, which was the reason for why he wore dresses in the past.
Charles identifies the wine as 1947 Bordeaux. Later, BJ says he and Hawkeye should drink it because it's already waited 4 years, making this year 1951. A few episodes prior, they celebrated New Years Eve 1951, which would ordinarily mean it is now 1952. However the show is noted for being asynchronous, early episodes frequently switch from President Truman to President Eisenhower and back.
Hawkeye: What is this world coming to? Everywhere I look, morality.
Klinger: If the enemy gets too close, throw the fruit cocktail at them! The hell with the Geneva Convention!
Turnbull: Wow. Real powdered eggs, eh? This porridge looks first rate.
Server: Head wound?
Margaret: Did you really think you could buy us with your expensive wine?
Hawkeye: Well, looks like the drinks are on me. Not to mention the joke.
Margaret: Oh, not at all. Your wildest fantasy has just come true. You've just been had by the whole nursing staff!
Winchester: Where, pray tell, did you get this ambrosia? From what cunning connoisseur?
Winchester: (stammers) Max? Klinger? The same man who eats peas with a knife and sucks in his spaghetti?
BJ: That's right.
Hawkeye: The old spaghetti sucker himself.
Winchester: Oh, my. Yes. I must find him. Oh, Max?
Winchester: In the states, a bottle like that would fetch $20.
Klinger: Did you say $20?
Winchester: Yes. And in this hell hole, I would have given you $30, you lummox.
Klinger: RATS! I'm so stupid I out-smarted myself.
Winchester: Yes, but only God knows how you managed to pull that one off. But the question of import is can you import some more?
Winchester: (after seeing the wine in Hawkeye's hand, he tastes the bottle) You have a '47 Margaux.
Hawkeye: No. I have a '47 DeSoto. I always buy American.
(Hawkeye attempts to take the bottle back, but Winchester swats his hand)
Winchester: No, no, this, you chimney sweep. This is an individual with a life all it's own. Little child -- born of the loins and suckled at the bosom of the Haut Medoc.
BJ:(to Hawkeye) Sounds like what went on in the back seat of your DeSoto.