Catch-22

“We’re sending you home.”

40 CATCH-22

There was, of course, a catch.

“Catch-22?” inquired Yossarian.

“Of course,” Colonel Korn answered pleasantly, after he had chased the mighty guard of massive M.P.s out with an insouciant flick of his hand and a slightly contemptuous nod-most relaxed, as always, when he could be most cynical. His rimless square eyeglasses glinted with sly amusement as he gazed at Yossarian. “After all, we can’t simply send you home for refusing to fly more missions and keep the rest of the men here, can we? That would hardly be fair to them.”

“You’re goddam right!” Colonel Cathcart blurted out, lumbering back and forth gracelessly like a winded bull, puffing and pouting angrily. “I’d like to tie him up hand and foot and throw him aboard a plane on every mission. That’s what I’d like to do.”

Colonel Korn motioned Colonel Cathcart to be silent and smiled at Yossarian. “You know, you really have been making things terribly difficult for Colonel Cathcart,” he observed with flip good humor, as though the fact did not displease him at all. “The men are unhappy and morale is begi

“It’s your fault,” Yossarian argued, “for raising the number of missions.”

“No, it’s your fault for refusing to fly them,” Colonel Korn retorted. “The men were perfectly content to fly as many missions as we asked as long as they thought they had no alternative. Now you’ve given them hope, and they’re unhappy. So the blame is all yours.”

“Doesn’t he know there’s a war going on?” Colonel Cathcart, still stamping back and forth, demanded morosely without looking at Yossarian.

“I’m quite sure he does,” Colonel Korn answered. “That’s probably why he refuses to fly them.”

“Doesn’t it make any difference to him?”

“Will the knowledge that there’s a war going on weaken your decision to refuse to participate in it?” Colonel Korn inquired with sarcastic seriousness, mocking Colonel Cathcart.

“No, sir,” Yossarian replied, almost returning Colonel Korn’s smile.

“I was afraid of that,” Colonel Korn remarked with an elaborate sigh, locking his fingers together comfortably on top of his smooth, bald, broad, shiny brown head. “You know, in all fairness, we really haven’t treated you too badly, have we? We’ve fed you and paid you on time. We gave you a medal and even made you a captain.”

“I never should have made him a captain,” Colonel Cathcart exclaimed bitterly. “I should have given him a court-martial after he loused up that Ferrara mission and went around twice.”

“I told you not to promote him,” said Colonel Korn, “but you wouldn’t listen to me.”

“No you didn’t. You told me to promote him, didn’t you?”

“I told you not to promote him. But you just wouldn’t listen.”

“I should have listened.”

“You never listen to me,” Colonel Korn persisted with relish. “That’s the reason we’re in this spot.”

“All right, gee whiz. Stop rubbing it in, will you?”

Colonel Cathcart burrowed his fists down deep inside his pockets and turned away in a slouch. “Instead of picking on me, why don’t you figure out what we’re going to do about him?”

“We’re going to send him home, I’m afraid.” Colonel Korn was chuckling triumphantly when he turned away from Colonel Cathcart to face Yossarian. “Yossarian, the war is over for you. We’re going to send you home. You really don’t deserve it, you know, which is one of the reasons I don’t mind doing it. Since there’s nothing else we can risk doing to you at this time, we’ve decided to return you to the States. We’ve worked out this little deal to-“

“What kind of deal?” Yossarian demanded with defiant mistrust.

Colonel Korn tossed his head back and laughed. “Oh, a thoroughly despicable deal, make no mistake about that. It’s absolutely revolting. But you’ll accept it quickly enough.”

“Don’t be too sure.”

“I haven’t the slightest doubt you will, even though it stinks to high heaven. Oh, by the way. You haven’t told any of the men you’ve refused to fly more missions, have you?”

“No, sir,” Yossarian answered promptly.

Colonel Korn nodded approvingly. “That’s good. I like the way you lie. You’ll go far in this world if you ever acquire some decent ambition.”

“Doesn’t he know there’s a war going on?” Colonel Cathcart yelled out suddenly, and blew with vigorous disbelief into the open end of his cigarette holder.

“I’m quite sure he does,” Colonel Korn replied acidly, “since you brought that identical point to his attention just a moment ago.” Colonel Korn frowned wearily for Yossarian’s benefit, his eyes twinkling swarthily with sly and daring scorn. Gripping the edge of Colonel Cathcart’s desk with both hands, he lifted his flaccid haunches far back on the corner to sit with both short legs dangling freely. His shoes kicked lightly against the yellow oak wood, his sludge-brown socks, garterless, collapsed in sagging circles below ankles that were surprisingly small and white. “You know, Yossarian,” he mused affably in a ma

“These are very critical times,” Colonel Cathcart asserted petulantly from a far corner of the office, paying no attention to Colonel Korn.

“Very critical times indeed,” Colonel Korn agreed with a placid nod. “We’ve just had a change of command above, and we can’t afford a situation that might put us in a bad light with either General Scheisskopf or General Peckem. Isn’t that what you mean, Colonel?”

“Hasn’t he got any patriotism?”

“Won’t you fight for your country?” Colonel Korn demanded, emulating Colonel Cathcart’s harsh, self-righteous tone. “Won’t you give up your life for Colonel Cathcart and me?”

Yossarian tensed with alert astonishment when he heard Colonel Korn’s concluding words. “What’s that?” he exclaimed. “What have you and Colonel Cathcart got to do with my country? You’re not the same.”

“How can you separate us?” Colonel Korn inquired with ironical tranquillity.

“That’s right,” Colonel Cathcart cried emphatically. “You’re either for us or against us. There’s no two ways about it.”

“I’m afraid he’s got you,” added Colonel Korn. “You’re either for us or against your country. It’s as simple as that.”

“Oh, no, Colonel. I don’t buy that.”

Colonel Korn was unrufed. “Neither do I, frankly, but everyone else will. So there you are.”

“You’re a disgrace to your uniform!” Colonel Cathcart declared with blustering wrath, whirling to confront Yossarian for the first time. “I’d like to know how you ever got to be a captain, anyway.”

“You promoted him,” Colonel Korn reminded sweetly, stifling a snicker. “Don’t you remember?”

“Well, I never should have done it.”

“I told you not to do it,” Colonel Korn said. “But you just wouldn’t listen to me.”

“Gee whiz, will you stop rubbing it in?” Colonel Cathcart cried. He furrowed his brow and glowered at Colonel Korn through eyes narrow with suspicion, his fists clenched on his hips. “Say, whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Your side, Colonel. What other side could I be on?”

“Then stop picking on me, will you? Get off my back, will you?”

“I’m on your side, Colonel. I’m just loaded with patriotism.”

“Well, just make sure you don’t forget that.” Colonel Cathcart turned away grudgingly after another moment, incompletely reassured, and began striding the floor, his hands kneading his long cigarette holder. He jerked a thumb toward Yossarian. “Let’s settle with him. I know what I’d like to do with him. I’d like to take him outside and shoot him. That’s what I’d like to do with him. That’s what General Dreedle would do with him.”