21 騅鬥將軍

 卡思卡特上校不再想有關牧師的任何事情，但是，他被一個全新的，可怕的問題纏繞著：尤塞瑞恩！

尤塞瑞恩！隻要一提起這個令人討厭、醜陋的名字，卡思卡特上校 就會血液冰涼、呼吸困難而費力。牧師第一次提到尤塞瑞恩這個名字時，那就像在他的記憶深處敲響了一麵預示不祥之兆的銅鑼。門栓喀噠一聲，門關上了，他腦海裏立刻湧出的是使他感到羞辱的記憶，隊伍裏的那個赤身裸體的軍官那些刺痛他的細節，像令人痛苦、窒息的潮水，劈頭蓋臉地向他襲來。他開始渾身冒汗、發抖。這是個糟糕透了的、不大可能的巧合， 它是個可怕的征兆,猙獰可怖。那天，那個站在隊伍中一絲不掛地從騅鬥將軍手裏接過優秀飛行十字勳章的軍官也叫尤塞瑞恩！現在，卡思卡特上校剛剛下達命令，要他的飛行大隊的官兵飛行六十次。可又有一個叫尤塞瑞恩的人威脅說要同這道命令過不去。卡思卡特上校鬱悶地想要知道，這會不會是同一個尤塞瑞恩。

他吃力地站起身來，帶著一副難以忍受的神情，在辦公室裏踱步。他覺得自己的麵前的這個人是個神秘人物。他坦承，隊伍中那個一絲不掛的軍官讓他丟人現眼。就像轟炸線在空襲博洛尼亞之前被人篡改，轟炸弗拉拉的大橋的任務被拖延了七天那樣，使他丟人現眼。好在弗拉拉大橋最終被炸毀了，這也算是他的一個榮耀，他回想起來，心裏便樂滋滋的。不過，二次轟炸時損失了一架飛機，卻是件丟臉的事，一想到這裏，他又很泄氣；由於一個投彈手膽怯，不得不兩次飛抵目標，這給他丟了臉。然而他卻請求並獲準，為那個投彈手頒發了勳章，這又使他感到出彩。他突然想到，那個投彈手也叫尤塞瑞恩。有三個尤塞瑞恩！此時此刻,他竟驚愕地說不出話來，那雙淌著粘液的眼睛因驚愕而脹得鼓鼓的，他焦急地轉過身去,看身後發生了什麽。片刻之前，他的生活中根本沒有什麽尤塞瑞恩。 可現在，他們就像妖怪似的越變越多。他努力使自己保持平靜。尤塞瑞恩不過是個普通的名字。事實上。也許尤塞瑞恩隻有兩個，並沒有三個，甚至可能隻有一個。 然而，這確實沒什麽區別！直覺在警示他: 他正接近某種巨大莫測的宇宙頂點,處於嚴重的危險之中。一想到那個尤塞瑞恩不管是誰，將注定會成為他的複仇者，他那寬厚、肥胖、高大的身軀，從頭到腳哆嗦起來。

卡思卡特上校並不迷信，但他確實相信預兆。於是，他在辦公桌後坐了下來，在自己的活頁記事本上做了個秘密的符號，便開始研究有關尤塞瑞恩的整個可疑的事件。他用粗重、果斷的筆跡為自己寫下了提示，在提示後醒目地畫上一連串密碼似的標點符號，然後在整個信息下畫上兩道橫線，如下：

尤塞瑞恩！！！（？）！

上校寫完後，靠向椅背,感到非常滿意，因為他剛才采取了迅速的行動來應付這一凶兆帶來的危機。 尤塞瑞恩--這個讓他看見就發抖的名字,裏麵竟有那麽多的S字母。它一定具有顛覆性，就像顛覆 (subversive) 這個詞本身一樣。它也像煽動 (seditious) 和陰險 (insidious) 這兩個詞，像社會主義者 (socialist) 、多疑 (suspicious)、法西斯分子 (fascist) 和共產主義者(communist) 這些詞。這是一個可僧的、異國的，令人厭惡的名字，一個引不起人們信任的名字。它一點也不像卡思卡特、佩克姆和騅鬥這些幹淨、利落、誠實的美國名字。

卡思卡特上校慢慢地站起來、開始在辦公室裏踱起步來。他幾乎無意識地從一筐紅色梨形番茄的上麵拿起一隻番茄，狠狠地咬了一大口。頓時， 他的臉變得扭曲了起來。他把剩下的番茄扔進了廢紙簍。上校不喜歡吃紅色梨形番茄，即使是他自己的番茄，他也不喜歡。而這些番茄並不是他自己的。這些番茄是科恩中校從遍布皮亞諾薩島的各個市場上以不同的名義買來的，然後，半夜裏把它們搬到上校在山上的農舍裏，第二天早晨再運到大隊司令部，賣給米洛。由米洛付給卡思卡特上校和科恩中校一些傭金。卡思卡特上校時常懷疑他們這樣倒賣番茄是否合法，但科恩中校說這事合法，於是他盡力不太去考慮這合不合法。

卡思卡特上校也無法知道他山上的房子合不合法，因為那也是由科恩中校一手操辦的。卡思卡特上校對他是否買下了那房子的產權，或者隻是租用，從誰手中買下的，付了多少錢等，一概不知。科恩中校是律師，如果科恩中校跟他說欺騙，敲詐，盜用現金，貪汙，偷漏所得稅和黑市投機是合法的，卡思卡特上校也不能不同意。 關於他在山上的那所房子，卡思卡特上校所知道的一切就是，他有這麽一所房子，而且討厭它，他每隔一周去那兒呆上兩三天。實際上，沒有什麽比呆在那兒更讓他厭煩， 但卡思卡特上校為的是給人一種錯覺，即他山上的那所潮濕、漏風的石頭牆農舍是個尋歡作樂，肉體愉悅的金碧宮殿。所有的軍官俱樂部裏充斥著含糊不清但熟悉的故事，談論著山上的那所房子裏的奢侈華麗，狂飲亂嫖的之事，談論在那裏與那些最漂亮、最惹人、最容易被撩動、也最容易滿足的意大利名妓、電影明星、模特兒和伯爵夫人幽會的銷魂之夜。 但實際上，這樣的令人銷魂的幽會之夜或見不得人的狂飲亂嫖之事從未在那所房子裏發生過。假如 騅鬥將軍或佩克姆將軍哪怕有一次表示過有興趣同他一起參加狂歡，這些事情也許就有可能發生。 可他們兩位誰也不曾表示過這種興趣。因此，上校當然不會花時間與精力去同漂亮女人尋歡作樂，除非那樣做對他升官發財有什麽好處。

上校害怕在農場的房子裏度過那些潮濕、寂寞的夜晚和沉悶、單調的白晝。他在飛行大隊有更多的興趣，， 對他不懼怕的隊裏的任何人吹胡子瞪眼睛。但是，正如科恩中校時常提醒他的那樣，假如他從不去住，那麽在山上擁有一所農舍就沒有多大魅力。他每次開車去他的農舍時都顧影自伶；在吉普車裏，帶著一支獵槍，用它打鳥，打紅色梨形番茄，以此來消磨那單調無聊的時光。那兒確實種了一些紅色梨形番茄，一行行歪七扭八的，無人照料，摘起來也太麻煩。

卡思卡特上校依然認為有必要對某些下級軍官，表示出一點敬意，盡管他不願意，也沒有把握是不是非得把德·科弗利少校包括在內，但他還是把他包括了進去。對他來說，德·科弗利少校是個極為神秘的人物，就像對巨牛少校和其他所有曾注意過他的人來說， 他本人也很神秘那樣。對於德·科弗利少校，卡思卡特上校不知道該持什麽態度，是尊敬還是蔑視。盡管德·科弗利少校比卡思卡特上校要年長許多，但他隻不過是個少校。不過，許許多多其他的人如此尊敬、敬畏甚至害怕德·科弗利少校，因此，卡思卡特上校覺得他們也許都知道些什麽事情。德·科弗利少校是個不吉利的、不可思議的人物，他使卡思卡特上校常常坐立不安，就連科恩中校也得提防他；每個人都害怕他，但誰也不知道為什麽。甚至沒有一個人知道德·科弗利少校的名字是什麽，因為從來沒有人敢冒冒失失地去問他。卡思卡特上校得知德·科弗利少校外出了。他不在，上校很高興，可他又想到德·科弗利少校也許在什麽地方陰謀反對他，於是，他又希望德·科弗利少校回到他所屬的中隊，那樣他就處於他的監視中。

不一會兒，由於來回走動過多，卡思卡特上校的兩隻腳疼痛起來。他重又在辦公桌後坐下，下決心對整個軍事形勢作出周密而係統的評估。象生意場上通曉如何做事的人們那樣，他找出了一大本白拍紙，在紙正中劃了一道豎線，然後， 靠著豎線，在紙上劃了一道橫線，將它分成兩個等寬的空白欄。他停下來，考慮一些關鍵問題。然後，伏在桌上，在左邊一欄的頂端用拘謹而講究的筆跡寫上：“壞名聲！！！”在右邊一欄的頂端寫上：“榮譽！！！”他再次靠向椅背，客觀地檢查自己畫的圖，帶著讚賞的神色。慎重考慮了幾秒鍾，他又小心翼翼地舔了舔鉛筆尖，在“壞名聲！！！”一欄下寫了起來，每寫完一項都要停下來思慮一番：

弗拉拉
博洛尼亞（轟炸期間轟炸線在地圖上被篡改）
雙向飛碟射擊場
隊伍中的那個裸體軍官（轟炸阿維尼翁之後）
然後他補充寫道：
食物中毒（轟炸博洛格那期間）

再寫上：
呻吟（下達轟炸阿維尼翁簡命令時部隊出現的流行病）

然後又加上：
牧師（每晚在軍官俱樂部裏逗留）

盡管他不喜歡牧師，但他還是決定對牧師寬宏大量，於是在“榮譽！！！”一欄下寫上：
牧師（每晚在軍官俱樂部裏逗留）

這樣，關於牧師的兩條記錄就互相抵消了。在弗拉拉和隊伍中有個赤裸著身體的軍官（轟炸阿維尼翁之後）這兩條的旁邊，他又寫上：

尤塞瑞恩！

在博洛格那（轟炸期間轟炸線在地圖上被篡改了），食物中毒（轟炸博洛尼亞期間）和呻吟聲（下達轟炸阿維尼翁命令時軍中的流行病）這三條旁邊，他果斷地打上了醒目粗大的“？”

那些打上了“？”的標題是他要立刻著手調查的事件，為的是確定尤塞瑞恩是否參與了這些事件。
突然，他手臂抖了起來，不能再寫下去。他驚恐地站起身，感到手腳遲鈍、不靈活。他急忙衝到敞開著的窗戶旁，大口地呼吸著新鮮空氣。他的目光落在了雙向飛碟射擊場上。一陣昏眩，他痛苦地尖叫了一聲，兩隻狂亂、通紅的眼睛瘋狂地在辦公室的牆壁上掃視著，仿佛那上麵擠滿了尤塞瑞恩。

沒有人鍾愛他。騅鬥將軍恨他。盡管佩克姆將軍喜歡他， 不過，他不能肯定佩克姆將軍喜歡他，因為佩克姆將軍的副官卡吉爾上校無疑有自己的野心，一有機會，他就可能在佩克姆將軍麵前說他的壞話。他斷定，除了他自己之外，唯一的一名好上校是那位過世的上校。在上校中，他唯一信賴的是穆達士上校，但即便穆達士上校也是靠他嶽父提攜的。米洛當然是他的驕傲， 盡管他的大隊被米洛的飛機轟炸一事或許是個恥辱。即便米洛向大家透露，辛迪卡同敵軍的交易取得了巨額純利潤，這最終平息了所有的異議，還使每個人相信，從私營企業的角度，轟炸自己人和飛機的確值得褒獎， 有利可圖。上校對米洛不十分放心，因為其他上校正竭力想把他誘走。此外，卡思卡特上校的飛行大隊裏有個討厭的一級準尉大個懷特·哈爾福特。據那個又討厭又懶惰的布萊克上尉說，一級準尉大個懷特·哈爾福特實際上應對博洛格那大圍攻期間轟炸線的篡改負責。卡思卡特上校之所以喜歡一級準尉大個懷待·哈爾福特，是因為每次他喝醉了酒， 隻要看見穆達士上校在場，就會不停地狠揍那個討厭的穆達士上校的鼻子。他希望一級準尉大個懷特·哈爾福特也會狠揍科恩中校的胖臉。科恩中校是個討厭的、自作聰明的家夥。第二十六空軍司令部裏有個人對他懷恨在心，在他寫的每份報告都簽上訓斥的批示，再退回來。科恩中校買通了司令部裏一個名叫溫特格林的精明的郵件管理員，去搞清楚那人是誰。他不得不承認，第二次轟炸弗拉拉時損失一架飛機對他沒什麽好處，另一架飛機在雲層中失蹤也同樣不會對他有益--他甚至忘了把這件事記下來。他帶著渴望的神情,極力想記起是否尤塞瑞恩同那架在雲層裏的飛機一起失蹤了，但很快他便意識到，尤塞瑞恩沒有同那架飛機一起失蹤， 因為要是尤塞瑞恩還在這兒吵鬧著再飛五次便完成了討厭的飛行任務，他便不可能同那架飛機一起失蹤。

卡思卡特上校理智地認為，如果尤塞瑞恩反對飛六十次，那麽六十次的飛行任務對那些官兵來說或許是多了些。然而，他隨後認為，強迫他自己的部下去執行比別人更多的飛行任務是他所取得的最顯著的成績。正如科恩中校常說的那樣，戰爭中，執行命令的飛行大隊長到處都是，因此，要突出自己獨一無二的領導才能，必需采取某種富有戲劇性的姿態。比如。要求自己的大隊去執行比其他任何轟炸機大隊多的戰鬥飛行任務。當然，沒有一位將軍中似乎反對他的做法。但就他的觀察，將軍們對此也沒有什麽特別深的印象。這使他覺得也許六十次戰鬥飛行任務還遠遠不夠，他應該立刻把飛行次數提到七十、八十、一百，甚至二百、三百，或者六千次！

毫無疑問，在文雅、和藹的佩克姆將軍手下做事要比在粗魯、遲鈍的騅鬥將軍手下做事的處境好得多，因為盡管佩克姆將軍從未絲毫表示過他賞識或喜歡他，但佩克姆將軍有眼力，有天賦，受過常春藤大學的教育，能充分了解他的價值，賞識他的能力。卡思卡特上校敏銳的洞察力使他認識到，閱曆豐富而又十分自信的自己和佩克姆將軍之間從不需要明確地表示對對方的承認。他們生來就互相了解，離得很遠也能互相產生好感。他們屬於同一類人，這就足夠了，他知道升遷隻是個時機問題，他得小心謹慎地等待。不過，他又注意到佩克姆將軍從未特別看中他，也從不煞費苦心地, 像對他周圍的人，甚至士兵一樣, 給卡思卡特上校留下滿腹經綸和學識淵博的印象。要麽就是卡思卡特上校的心思，沒有傳到佩克姆將軍耳朵裏，要麽就是佩克姆將軍不是那個假裝出來的才智橫溢、辨別力強、文質彬彬、具有遠見卓識的人；而騅鬥將軍的確是個敏銳、可愛、才華橫溢、閱曆豐富的人，在他的手下,上校的處境肯定會好得多. 突然，卡思卡特上校對眾人是否支持他感到一無所知，於是他用拳頭打起鈴來，叫科恩中校速到他的辦公室來，向他保證，每一個人都愛他，而他在為成為將軍而進行的英勇、輝煌的戰役中正取得驚人的進展。尤塞瑞恩隻是他在想象中虛構出來的人物。

事實上，卡思卡特上校根本沒有機會成為將軍。一方麵是因為有個叫溫特格林的前一等兵，也想當將軍，於是對任何可能給卡思卡特上校帶來聲譽的信函，無論是卡思卡特上校本人寫的，還是別人寫給卡思卡特上校的或是有關卡思卡特上校的：他一概加以歪曲、銷毀、拒投或者寫錯投遞地址；另一方麵，是因為已經有了一個將軍，即騅鬥將軍，騅鬥知道佩克姆將軍在覬覦他的位子但又不知道如何阻止他。

聯隊司令騅鬥將軍五十歲出頭，他粗率遲鈍、身材矮胖、胸部圓得像水桶。他的鼻子又短又闊、紅乎乎的，肥胖、蒼白、凸起的眼瞼像鹹肥肉似的一圈圈圍著他那對灰色的小眼睛。他有個護士和女婿跟著他。沒有喝醉酒時，他習慣於長時間沉默不語。騅鬥將軍為把部隊的工作搞好，浪費了太多的時間，現在已為時太晚了。新的權力聯盟已經形成，而將他排除在外，他簡直不知如何去應付。稍不留神，他那張冷峻、陰沉的臉就會因失敗和挫折而變得悶悶不樂、心事重重。騅鬥將軍以酒澆愁。他的情緒反複無常、難以捉摸。“戰爭是個地獄。”無論喝醉了還是清醒， 他常常這樣說。而且他心裏也真的是這麽想的，然而這並不妨礙他靠戰爭謀得高官厚祿，也不妨礙他把女婿拉進軍隊同他在一起，盡管翁婿兩人常常爭吵。

“那個雜種，”在軍官俱樂部裏那張曲線形吧台前,無論誰碰巧站在他旁邊，他都會這樣輕蔑地咕噥，抱怨自己的女婿。 “他能有這一切全虧了我。他是靠了我發跡的，這個狗娘養的混帳！他還嫩著呢，不能獨自混出個樣子來。”

“他以為他什麽都知道。”在吧台的另一頭，穆達士上校總會用氣憤的語氣向他周圍的人反駁他的嶽父。“他不接受批評，也不願聽別人的忠告。”

“他所能做的一切就是給別人忠告，”騅鬥將軍總會粗聲粗氣地哼著鼻子說，“要不是我，他現在還隻是個下士。” 騅鬥將軍總是由穆達士上校和他的護士陪著。那護士可是個美人兒，見過她的人都認為她比見過的任何漂亮女人都毫不遜色。騅鬥將軍的護士身材小巧，圓圓的臉上生著一對快樂的藍眼睛，豐滿的雙頰上有兩個小酒窩，一頭金色的卷發下邊向上卷起，梳得整整齊齊。她逢人便露出微笑，卻從不開口說話，除非有人跟她說話才應酬幾句。她胸脯豐滿，皮膚雪白。她的媚力是難以抗拒的，男人們總是目不轉睛地側著身子慢慢地從她身旁走開。她豐滿嬌豔、甜美溫順、沉默寡言，弄得除了騅鬥將軍之外所有的人，都如癡如醉。

“你該看看她光著身子是什麽樣子，”騅鬥將軍用沙啞的嗓門津津有味地笑著說，而此時他的護士就站在他的肩旁得意地微笑著。“在聯隊我的房間裏，有她的一件用紫紅色絲綢做的製服，那衣服太小，她的兩個乳頭鼓得老高，像兩隻大櫻桃似的。是米洛給我弄來的衣料。那製服小得裏麵連短褲和胸罩都不能穿。有幾個晚上穆達士在這兒時，我讓她穿上那製服，撩得他魂不守舍。”騅鬥將軍放開沙啞的嗓子哈哈大笑。“要是你能看見她每次挪動身體時她那件衣裳裏麵的情景才妙呢。她把他弄得神魂顛倒。隻要我抓到他向她或其他別的女人伸一伸手，我就立刻把這個好色的雜種一下子降為列兵，讓他當一年炊事兵。”

“他讓她在我身邊轉悠，就是想把我撩得魂不守舍，”穆達士上校在吧台的另一頭憤憤不平地說，“在聯隊裏，她有一件用紫紅色絲綢做的製服，那衣服太小，她的兩個乳頭鼓得老高，像兩隻大櫻桃似的。那製服小得裏麵連短褲和胸罩都不能穿。要是你能聽見她每次挪動身體時那綢衣服發出的沙沙聲就好啦。要是我對她或其他別的姑娘有什麽非禮的舉動，他就會把我一下子降為列兵，讓我當一年炊事兵。她撩得我神魂顛倒。”

“自從我們到海外以來，他還沒有和女人上過床呢。”騅鬥將軍吐露了秘密。一想到這個惡毒的主意，他就像個性虐待狂似的大笑起來，他那四四方方、滿頭灰白頭發的腦袋也隨著笑聲直晃悠。“我之所以不讓他呆在我看不見的地方，這就是其中一個原因，這樣他就不能去找女人。你能想象出這個可伶的狗娘養的有多難過嗎？”

“自從我們到海外以來，我還沒有和女人上過床呢，”穆達士上校眼淚汪汪地抱怨說，“你能想象出我有多難過嗎？”

騅鬥將軍生氣的時候，對任何人都會寸步不讓,像對穆達士上校那樣。他不喜歡裝假、圓滑、做作。作為職業軍人，他的信條是，始終如一，簡單明了。他認為接受他命令的年輕軍人應該心甘情願地為了這位向他們發布命令的老軍人的理想、抱負和特有的風格獻出自己的生命。對他而言，他手下的軍官和士兵都隻是軍人。他所要求的就是他們做好自己的工作，除此之外，他們可以隨心所欲，想幹什麽就幹什麽。隻要願意，他們可以像卡思卡特上校那樣強迫他們的部下執行六十次飛行任務；隻要樂意，他們也可以像尤塞瑞恩那樣一絲不掛地站在隊列裏，盡管當時一看到這一情景，騅鬥將軍那花崗岩似的下巴一下子張了開來。他專橫而傲慢地大步沿著隊伍走過去，想看清楚隊伍中是不是真的有個人渾身一絲不掛，隻穿了雙皮鞋立正站在那兒，等著他頒發勳章。騅鬥將軍一句話也沒說。卡思卡特上校發現騅鬥時，差點昏過去。 科恩中校快步走到他身後，一把抓住他的一隻手臂。接著是一陣靜得出奇的沉默。溫暖的海風不停地從海濱吹來，一頭黑毛驢拉著一輛裝滿了髒草的舊馬車在大路上轆轆駛過，趕車的農夫頭戴一頂帽簷低垂的帽子，身穿一套褪了色的棕褐色工作服，他對右邊那一小塊場地上正在舉行的正式軍事儀式毫不在意。

最後，騅鬥將軍說話了。“回到汽車裏去，”他轉過頭對跟在他身後的護士厲聲說道。護士帶著微笑蹦蹦顛顛地朝將軍的那輛深褐色軍用汽車走去。汽車停在約二十碼之外那塊長方形空地的邊上。騅鬥將軍帶著嚴厲的表情靜靜地等著，直到他聽見車門砰的一聲關上後才問道：“這人是誰？”

穆達士上校查看了一下名冊。“這個人叫尤塞瑞恩，爹。他獲得了一枚優異飛行十字勳章。”
“唉；真該死，”騅鬥將軍嘟噥著說，由於覺得有趣，他那血紅色的石板似的臉上露出了溫和的神色。
“你為什麽不穿衣服，尤塞瑞恩？”
“我不想穿。”
“你說不想穿是什麽意思？你究竟為什麽不想穿？”
“我隻是不想穿，長官。”
“他為什麽不穿衣服？”騅鬥將軍回過頭來問卡思卡特上校。
“他在跟你說話，”科恩中校從後麵貼著卡思卡特上校的肩膀小聲對他說道，一邊用胳膊肘猛地捅了一下他的背。
“他為什麽不穿衣服？”卡思卡特上校帶著極度痛苦的表情問科恩中校，一麵輕揉著剛才被科恩中校捅過的地方。
“他為什麽不穿衣服？”科恩中校問皮爾查德上尉和雷恩上尉。
“他的飛機裏有個士兵上周在阿維尼翁上空被打死了，濺得他渾身上下都是血，”雷恩上尉回答說，“他發誓再也不穿軍裝了。”
“他的飛機裏有個士兵上周在阿維尼翁上空被打死了，濺得他渾身上下都是血，”科恩中校直接向德裏德爾將軍報告說，“他的製服還在洗衣房裏。”
“他的其他製服呢？”
“也都在洗衣房裏。”
“他的內衣呢？”騅鬥將軍問道。
“他的所有內衣也都在洗衣房裏，”科恩中校答道。
“這些話我聽起來好像是一大堆胡說八道，”騅鬥將軍斷言道。
“是一大堆胡說八道，長官，”尤塞瑞恩說。
“請別擔心，長官，”卡思卡特上校向騅鬥將軍保證說，一邊狠狠地瞪了尤塞瑞恩一眼。“我親口向您保證，這個人會受到嚴厲的懲罰的。”
“我幹嗎要在乎他會不會受到懲罰？”騅鬥將軍又驚奇又氣憤地回他一句。“他剛剛得到一枚勳章。如果他願意不穿衣服接受勳章，那又關你什麽屁事？”
“這正是我的意思，長官！”卡思卡特上校以毫不含糊的熱情附和道，一邊說一邊用潮濕的白手帕擦額頭的汗水。“但是，長官，如果按照佩克姆將軍最近發布的關於在戰區應著合適軍裝的備忘錄的精神，您還會那麽說嗎？”
“佩克姆？”騅鬥將軍的臉色陰沉了下來。
“是的，長官，長官，”卡思卡特上校奉承他說，“佩克姆將軍甚至建議我們讓官兵穿著軍禮服去作戰，這樣，他們被擊落時會給敵軍留下一個好印象。”
“佩克姆？”騅鬥將軍重複了一遍，仍舊迷惑不解地斜視著他。“佩克姆與這事到底有什麽關係？” 科恩中校又用胳膊肘使勁搗了一下卡思卡特上校的背。
“絕對沒有關係，長官！”卡思卡特上校利落地答道，背上疼得要命，隻好縮著身子，輕輕地揉著科恩中校剛才又搗過的地方。“正是因為這個原因，我才決定在沒有機會同您商量之前，絕對不采取任何行動。我們完全不必理會它，行嗎，長官？”
騅鬥將軍完全不理會他，輕蔑而帶著惡意地轉過身去，把裝在盒子裏的勳章遞給了尤塞瑞恩。
“把我那個姑娘從車裏叫回來。”他怒氣衝衝地命令穆達士上校，然後沉著臉低著頭呆在原地，等著他的護士來到他的身邊。
“立刻命令辦公室取消我剛剛下達的我部官兵在執行戰鬥任務時必須戴領帶的那條命令，”卡思卡特上校急切地從嘴邊小聲對科恩中校說。
“我跟你說不要下這道命令吧，”科恩中校竊笑道，“可你就是不願聽我的。”
“噓──！”卡思卡特上校警告他說，“該死的，科恩，你搗我的背幹嗎？”
科恩中校又竊笑起來。

騅鬥將軍無論去哪裏，他的護士總跟著他，甚至在下達轟炸阿維尼翁任務時跟著他進了簡令下達室。那天，她帶著傻乎乎的微笑站在講台旁邊，她身著上紅下綠的製服站在騅鬥將軍身旁，就像肥沃的綠洲裏盛開的一朵鮮花。尤塞瑞恩看著她，瘋狂地愛上了她。他情緒低沉，內心感到空虛、麻木。他坐在那裏，一麵聽著丹比少校用單調沉悶的男低音以教訓人的口氣描繪在阿維尼翁等著他們的密集的高射炮火，一麵垂涎欲滴地盯著她那豐滿的紅嘴唇和長著酒窩的臉。一想到他也許再也見不到這個可愛的女人了，而他現在無限深情地愛上了她，但還沒有和她說過一句話，他突然萬分絕望地呻吟起來。當他凝神看著她時，由於傷心、害怕和渴望，他渾身顫抖、疼痛。她是那麽美麗。他崇拜她腳下的那塊土地。他用黏糊糊的舌頭舔了舔他那幹枯的嘴唇，又痛苦地哼起來，這次哼得聲音比較響，吸引了他周圍那些穿著深褐色工作服、係著白色降落傘帶、坐在一排排粗糙的木條凳上的人。他們用吃驚、搜尋的目光向他這邊張望著。

內特利驚慌地匆忙轉向他。“怎麽啦？”他低聲問，“怎麽回事？”
尤塞瑞恩沒聽見他說話。他情欲難熬，內心煩亂，又很遺憾，變得癡迷不醒。騅鬥將軍的護士隻是稍有些豐滿。尤塞瑞恩的頭腦裏充滿了奇想：她那閃閃發光的金發、他未曾握過的纖纖素手、那領口敞開著的粉紅色襯衫裏麵圓滾滾的、他從未摸過的妙齡女郎的乳房，還有她那光滑的草綠色華達呢緊身軍短褲下肚皮和大腿交匯處晃動著的、成熟的三角形腹肌。他貪婪地陶醉於她，從她的頭一直到她那塗了顏色的腳趾。他決不想失去她。“哎哎哎哎哎哎喲。”他又哼起來。這次，整屋子的人都被他那顫抖著拉長了的呻吟聲驚動了。一股吃驚、不安的感覺襲向講台上的軍官們，甚至正在給大家對表的丹比少校也一時分了神。他正在數秒，幾乎得重新開始。內特利順著尤塞瑞恩被釘住了似的目光一直看到長長的木板禮堂那頭，直到他看見騅鬥將軍的護士。當他猜到了是什麽在折磨著尤塞瑞恩時，他嚇得渾身發抖，臉色蒼白。

“別哼了，行嗎？”內特利壓低嗓門小聲警告他說。
“哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎喲。”尤塞瑞恩第四次哼了起來，這次聲音大得所有的人都能聽得清清楚楚.
“你瘋了嗎？”內特利使勁用噓聲說，“你會有麻煩的。”
“哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎喲。”鄧巴從房間的另一頭附和著尤塞瑞恩。
內特利聽出是鄧巴的聲音。現在局麵已經失去了控製，他轉過身去，輕輕地哼了一聲：“哎哎喲。” “哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎喲。”鄧巴附和地哼起來。
“哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎喲。”當內特利意識到自己剛才哼了一聲時，便惱怒地大聲呻吟起來。
“哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎喲。”鄧巴又回應他哼起來。
“哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎哎喲。”一個新的聲音從屋子的另一端加入進來，內特利的毛發都豎了起來.

尤塞瑞恩和鄧巴兩人都附和著哼起來，而內特利卻縮起了身子，徒勞地向四下打量，想找個洞，帶著尤塞瑞恩一起藏起來。有幾個人在強忍住笑。一陣想搗蛋的衝動支配了內特利，當沒有人哼哼時，他就故意哼一聲。又一個新的聲音附和起來。這種不服從上司的做法趣味無窮。內特利趁無人呻吟的間隙又故意擠出一聲哼哼。又有一個新的聲音響應了他。屋子裏一片喧鬧，不可收拾，像精神病院似的。有的人怪聲尖叫，有的人用腳在地上拖，有的人把東西丟到地上──鉛筆、計算器、地圖盒，以及敲得丁當作響的防空鋼帽。一些未發哼聲的人此刻公開地咯咯笑起來。假如不是德裏德爾將軍親自出來平息這場喧鬧，誰也說不準這自發的呻吟造反行動會鬧到什麽地步。德裏德爾將軍堅決地走到講台中央，走到丹比少校的正前方。丹比少校低著他那顆認真嚴肅、不屈不撓的頭，仍全神貫注地看著表念著： “──二十五秒──二十──十五──” 騅鬥將軍那張寬大、通紅、盛氣淩人的臉上露出困惑不解的神色和令人生畏的決心。
“別鬧了，弟兄們，”他簡要地命令道。他的眼睛裏閃爍著不讚同的眼光，他那四四方方的下巴顯得很堅定。“我領導著一支戰鬥部隊，”他語氣嚴厲地對他們說，這時屋子裏已變得一片肅靜，坐在凳子上的人都嚇得直哆嗦。“隻要我還是司令，這個大隊裏就不準再有人呻吟。聽明白了嗎？”

所有的人都明白了，唯有丹比少校除外，因為他還在聚精會神地看著他手腕上的表，大聲倒數著秒數。“──四──三── 二──時間到！”丹比少校喊道，說完帶著完成任務後的喜悅心情抬起頭，卻發現沒有人在聽他的，因此他還得再數一遍。“哎哎哎哎喲。”他失望地哼了一聲。

“怎麽回事？” 騅鬥將軍難以相信地吼了起來，他勃然大怒，殺氣騰騰，一下子轉過身看著丹比少校，而少校卻被嚇得慌了神，踉踉蹌蹌地倒退了幾步，開始發抖，冒冷汗。“這個人是誰？”
“丹比少──少校，長官，”卡思卡特上校結結巴巴地回答說，“我的大隊作戰參謀。”
“把他拉出去槍斃，” 騅鬥將軍命令道。
“長──長官？”
“我說把他拉出去槍斃。你聽不見嗎？”
“遵命，長官！”卡思卡特上校強忍住自己的感情，口氣幹脆地答道，然後迅速轉向他的司機和氣象員。
“把丹比少校拉出去槍斃。”
“長──長官？”他的司機和氣象員結結巴巴地問。
“我說把丹比少校拉出去槍斃，”卡思卡特上校厲聲說道，“難道你們聽不見嗎？”

兩個年輕的中尉機械地點點頭，但都不願意動手，兩人不知所措，有氣無力地你看看我，我看看你，等著對方先動手把丹比少校拉出去槍斃。他倆以前誰也沒有把丹比少校拉出去槍斃過。他倆猶豫不決地從不同方向慢慢挪向丹比少校。丹比少校嚇得臉色蒼白。 突然，他兩腿一軟，向下倒去，兩個年輕的中尉衝上前去，一人架住一隻胳膊抓住他，使他不致倒在地上。現在他們既然已經抓住了丹比少校，其餘的事似乎就很容易了，但是他們沒有槍。丹比少校開始哭起來。卡思卡特上校真想跑到他的身邊安慰他幾句，但又不想在騅鬥將軍麵前顯得婆婆媽媽的。他想到阿普爾比和哈弗邁耶在執行任務時總帶著四五口徑的自動步槍，於是便開始用目光在一排排的軍官中尋找他們。
丹比少校一哭，剛才還在一旁猶豫不決的穆達士上校再也控製不住自己了，他帶著一副自我犧牲的神色苦巴巴地、缺乏信心地向 騅鬥將軍走過去。“我認為你最好等一分鍾，爹，”他猶猶豫豫地建議說，“我認為你不能槍斃他。”
他的插話使 騅鬥將軍勃然大怒。“到底是誰說我不能槍斃他的？”他興師問罪地怒喝道，聲音大得使整個建築都嘎嘎作響。穆達士上校尷尬得滿臉通紅，俯身貼近他的耳朵小聲說著什麽。“我究竟為什麽不能槍斃他？” 騅鬥將軍吼道。穆達士上校又小聲說了幾句。“你是說我不能想槍斃誰就槍斃誰？” 騅鬥將軍用不妥協的憤怒口氣問道。但當穆達士上校繼續小聲說下去時， 騅鬥將軍豎起了耳朵，來了興趣。“那是真的嗎？”他問道，滿腹怒氣也由於好奇消了許多。
“是的，爹。恐怕是的。”
“我想，你以為你他娘的精明絕頂，是吧？” 騅鬥將軍突然痛斥起穆達士上校來。
穆達士上校的臉又漲得緋紅。“不是，爹，這不是──”
“好吧，把那個違抗上司的狗狼養的放掉，” 騅鬥將軍厲聲說，一邊惡狠狠地從他女婿那邊轉過身來，怒氣衝衝地對著卡思卡特上校的司機和卡思卡特上校的氣象員吼道：“但是要把他趕出這所房子，讓他呆在外麵。讓咱們繼續下達這個該死的簡令吧，要不戰爭就要結束了。我從未見過這麽多無能鼠輩。”
卡思卡特上校機械地向德裏德爾將軍點了點頭，急忙向他手下打了個手勢，讓他們把丹比少校推到屋外去。然而，當丹比少校被推出去後，卻沒有人來繼續下達簡令。大家麵麵相靦，又吃驚又不知如何是好。 騅鬥將軍見到大家都愣著不動，氣得臉色發紫。卡思卡特上校也不知該怎麽辦。他剛要開始大聲哼哼，這時科恩中校走上前來，幫他控製住了局麵。卡思卡特上校噙住淚水，萬分欣慰地舒了一口氣，感激的心情幾乎不知如何表達。

“現在，弟兄們，我們來對表。”科恩中校以敏捷、威嚴的神態迅速發號施令起來，兩隻眼睛討好地朝著 騅鬥將軍那個方向骨碌碌轉個不停。“我們將對一次表，隻對一次，如果一次對不好， 騅鬥將軍和我將要查一查是什麽原因。明白了嗎？”他的兩眼又轉向 騅鬥將軍，想弄清楚他的這番話是否給將軍留下了印象。“現在把你們的表撥到九點十八分。”

科恩中校十分順利地給大家對好了表，然後信心十足地繼續下去。他把當天的指令交待給了大家，又把天氣情況說了一下，顯得靈活、事事精通但卻華而不實。他發覺他正給 騅鬥將軍留下極好的印象，因此他每隔幾秒鍾就傻笑著瞟一眼 騅鬥將軍，從他那兒得到越來越大的鼓舞。他來了勁頭，神氣活現地整了整衣冠，昂首闊步地在講台上走來走去，虛榮心十足。他把當天的指令又給大家交待了一遍，然後巧妙地轉入鼓舞士氣的戰前動員，大談轟炸阿維尼翁大橋對於贏得這場戰爭是如何重要以及執行任務的每一個人都應該把熱愛祖國放在熱愛生命之上。他把這番激勵士氣的宏論講完後，又把當天的指令給大家說了一遍，強調了進攻的角度，隨後又說了一下天氣情況。科恩中校覺得自己擁有至高無上的權威。他已經成了大人物了。

卡思卡特上校慢慢明白過來，當他悟出了個中原因時，他氣得目瞪口呆。他妒忌地望著科恩中校繼續推行他的鬼計，他的臉拉得越來越長。當 騅鬥將軍走到他身邊時，他簡直不敢聽他要說什麽。將軍用整個屋子裏的人都能聽見的耳語問他：
“那個人是誰？”

卡思卡特上校作了回答，心裏有一種淡淡的不祥的預兆。接著， 騅鬥將軍把手握成杯狀放在嘴上對他小聲說了些什麽，使卡思卡特上校的臉上放出無比喜悅的光芒。科恩中校看見後，高興得難以自製，渾身直抖。他是不是剛才被 騅鬥將軍在戰場上提升為上校了？他無法忍受這種懸念。他專橫地把手一揮，結束了下達簡令，滿懷期望地轉過身去，準備接受 騅鬥將軍的熱烈祝賀──將軍已經邁著大步，頭也不回地向屋外走去，身後尾隨著他的護士和穆達士上校。科恩中校看見這種情景，失望得一陣暈眩，但隻是很短的一刻。他看見了卡思卡特上校還咧開嘴笑著，筆直地站在那兒出神，於是他興高采烈地跑過去拉住他的膀子。

“他說了我些什麽？”他激動地問道,滿懷自豪而又幸福的期望心情，“ 騅鬥將軍說了些什麽？”
“他想知道你是誰？” “我知道這個。我知道這個。但他說了我些什麽？他說了些什麽？”
“你使他感到厭惡。“

第二十一章 Chapter 21

CHAPTER 21: GENERAL DREEDLE

Summary

Cathcart thinks of Yossarian as a menacing problem. The very sound of his name makes the colonelós blood run cold. He despises it because it is not a clean, crisp, American name like Peckem or Cathcart. He prepares a chart of all the bad things he feels Yossarian has done. These include the second run over Ferrara, the moving of the bomb line during the Bologna mission, and the appearance of a nude Yossarian at the medal ceremony.

General Dreedle, the wing commander, is a fat man in his early fifties. His favorite sentence is "war is hell." However, he makes a good living out of the war and derives great pleasure from seeing that his son-in-law, Colonel Moodus, does not enjoy himself. Dreedle has, in his company, an irresistible, blonde nurse. On nights when Moodus is around, the general forces her, to wear a tight, silk uniform that shows of her figure, just to drive Moodus crazy. The presence of his father-in-law has meant that Moodus has not been with a woman since he has been in the war.

When Dreedle has come to give Yossarian his medal, he finds Yossarian naked in the line. He refuses to wear clothes because Snowden has bled all over his clothes when he was killed. Dreedle gives Yossarian the medal, though Cathcart wants to punish Yossarian for his behavior.

At the briefing session just before the mission to Avignon, Yossarian has begun a series of passionate sighs directed at Dreedleós nurse; Dreedle is angry and seizes Major Danby who has inadvertently blurted out an "ooooh." Danby was supposed to brief the men about the mission. Dreedle orders Danby shot for insubordination, and is surprised when he is told by Moodus that he cannot order the shooting.

Colonel Korn takes up the task of briefing the men. He tries to impress Dreedle by his efforts. But the general is not impressed and leaves the room in a hurry.

Notes

Yossarian is now seen as a threat by his squadron commander. Yossarianós unique methods of protest have undermined Cathcartós leadership. Cathcart does not feel secure in his position. Dreedle, on the other hand, is a pompous, assured officer; he does not mind giving a medal to a naked man. The general is having a good time with his nurse.

At the briefing, Yossarian cannot control himself when he sees the nurse. Dreedle is the kind of officer who thinks he has the right to do just about anything, including shooting Danby. The general appears crazy with power. He also will not put up with any nonsense.



General Dreedle

    Colonel Cathcart was not thinking anything at all about the chaplain， but was tangled up in a brand-new， menacing problem of his own： Yossarian！

    Yossarian！ The mere sound of that execrable， ugly name made his blood run cold and his breath come in labored gasps. The chaplain's first mention of the name Yossarian！ had tolled deep in his memory like a portentous gong. As soon as the latch of the door had clicked shut， the whole humiliating recollection of the naked man in formation came cascading down upon him in a mortifying， choking flood of stinging details. He began to perspire and tremble. There was a sinister and unlikely coincidence exposed that was too diabolical in implication to be anything less than the most hideous of omens. The name of the man who had stood naked in ranks that day to receive his Distinguished Flying Cross from General Dreedle had also been-Yossarian！ And now it was a man named Yossarian who was threatening to make trouble over the sixty missions he had just ordered the men in his group to fly. Colonel Cathcart wondered gloomily if it was the same Yossarian.

    He climbed to his feet with an air of intolerable woe and began moving about his office. He felt himself in the presence of the mysterious. The naked man in formation， he conceded cheerlessly， had been a real black eye for him. So had the tampering with the bomb line before the mission to Bologna and the seven-day delay in destroying the bridge at Ferrara， even though destroying the bridge at Ferrara finally， he remembered with glee， had been a real feather in his cap， although losing a plane there the second time around， he recalled in dejection， had been another black eye， even though he had won another real feather in his cap by getting a medal approved for the bombardier who had gotten him the real black eye in the first place by going around over the target twice. That bombardier's name， he remembered suddenly with another stupefying shock， had also been Yossarian！ Now there were three！ His viscous eyes bulged with astonishment and he whipped himself around in alarm to see what was taking place behind him. A moment ago there had been no Yossarians in his life； now they were multiplying like hobgoblins. He tried to make himself grow calm. Yossarian was not a common name； perhaps there were not really three Yossarians but only two Yossarians， or maybe even only one Yossarian-but that really made no difference！ The colonel was still in grave peril. Intuition warned him that he was drawing close to some immense and inscrutable cosmic climax， and his broad， meaty， towering frame tingled from head to toe at the thought that Yossarian， whoever he would eventually turn out to be， was destined to serve as his nemesis.

    Colonel Cathcart was not superstitious， but he did believe in omens， and he sat right back down behind his desk and made a cryptic notation on his memorandum pad to look into the whole suspicious business of the Yossarians right away. He wrote his reminder to himself in a heavy and decisive hand， amplifying it sharply with a series of coded punctuation marks and underlining the whole message twice， so that it read： Yossarian！ ！ ！ （？）！

    The colonel sat back when he had finished and was extremely pleased with himself for the prompt action he had just taken to meet this sinister crisis. Yossarian-the very sight of the name made him shudder. There were so many esses in it. It just had to be subversive. It was like the word subversive itself. It was like seditious and insidious too， and like socialist， suspicious， fascist and Communist. It was an odious， alien， distasteful name， that just did not inspire confidence. It was not at all like such clean， crisp， honest， American names as Cathcart， Peckem and Dreedle.

    Colonel Cathcart rose slowly and began drifting about his office again. Almost unconsciously， he picked up a plum tomato from the top of one of the bushels and took a voracious bite. He made a wry face at once and threw the rest of the plum tomato into his waste-basket. The colonel did not like plum tomatoes， not even when they were his own， and these were not even his own. These had been purchased in different market places all over Pianosa by Colonel Korn under various identities， moved up to the colonel's farmhouse in the hills in the dead of night， and transported down to Group Headquarters the next morning for sale to Milo， who paid Colonel Cathcart and Colonel Korn premium prices for them. Colonel Cathcart often wondered if what they were doing with the plum tomatoes was legal， but Colonel Korn said it was， and he tried not to brood about it too often. He had no way of knowing whether or not the house in the hills was legal， either， since Colonel Korn had made all the arrangements. Colonel Cathcart did not know if he owned the house or rented it， from whom he had acquired it or how much， if anything， it was costing. Colonel Korn was the lawyer， and if Colonel Korn assured him that fraud， extortion， currency manipulation， embezzlement， income tax evasion and black-market speculations were legal， Colonel Cathcart was in no position to disagree with him.

    All Colonel Cathcart knew about his house in the hills was that he had such a house and hated it. He was never so bored as when spending there the two or three days every other week necessary to sustain the illusion that his damp and drafty stone farmhouse in the hills was a golden palace of carnal delights. Officers' clubs everywhere pulsated with blurred but knowing accounts of lavish， hushed-up drinking and sex orgies there and of secret， intimate nights of ecstasy with the most beautiful， the most tantalizing， the most readily aroused and most easily satisfied Italian courtesans， film actresses， models and countesses. No such private nights of ecstasy or hushed-up drinking and sex orgies ever occurred. They might have occurred if either General Dreedle or General Peckem had once evinced an interest in taking part in orgies with him， but neither ever did， and the colonel was certainly not going to waste his time and energy making love to beautiful women unless there was something in it for him.

    The colonel dreaded his dank lonely nights at his farmhouse and the dull， uneventful days. He had much more fun back at Group， browbeating everyone he wasn't afraid of. However， as Colonel Korn kept reminding him， there was not much glamour in having a farmhouse in the hills if he never used it. He drove off to his farmhouse each time in a mood of self-pity. He carried a shotgun in his jeep and spent the monotonous hours there shooting it at birds and at the plum tomatoes that did grow there in untended rows and were too much trouble to harvest.

    Among those officers of inferior rank toward whom Colonel Cathcart still deemed it prudent to show respect， he included Major-de Coverley， even though he did not want to and was not sure he even had to. Major-de Coverley was as great a mystery to him as he was to Major Major and to everyone else who ever took notice of him. Colonel Cathcart had no idea whether to look up or look down in his attitude toward Major-de Coverley. Major-de Coverley was only a major， even though he was ages older than Colonel Cathcart； at the same time， so many other people treated Major-de Coverley with such profound and fearful veneration that Colonel Cathcart had a hunch they might know something. Major- de Coverley was an ominous， incomprehensible presence who kept him constantly on edge and of whom even Colonel Korn tended to be wary. Everyone was afraid of him， and no one knew why. No one even knew Major-de Coverley's first name， because no one had ever had the temerity to ask him. Colonel Cathcart knew that Major-de Coverley was away and he rejoiced in his absence until it occurred to him that Major-de Coverley might be away somewhere conspiring against him， and then he wished that Major-de Coverley were back in his squadron where he belonged so that he could be watched.

    In a little while Colonel Cathcart's arches began to ache from pacing back and forth so much. He sat down behind his desk again and resolved to embark upon a mature and systematic evaluation of the entire military situation. With the businesslike air of a man who knows how to get things done， he found a large white pad， drew a straight line down the middle and crossed it near the top， dividing the page into two blank columns of equal width. He rested a moment in critical rumination. Then he huddled over his desk， and at the head of the left column， in a cramped and finicky hand， he wrote， 'Black Eyes！！！' At the top of the right column he wrote， 'Feathers in My Cap！！！ ！！' He leaned back once more to inspect his chart admiringly from an objective perspective. After a few seconds of solemn deliberation， he licked the tip of his pencil carefully and wrote under 'Black Eyes！！！，' after intent intervals： Ferrara Bologna （bomb line moved on map during） Skeet range Naked man information （after Avignon） Then he added： Food poisoning （during Bologna） and Moaning （epidemic of during Avignon briefing） Then he added： Chaplain （hanging around officers' club every night） He decided to be charitable about the chaplain， even though he did not like him， and under 'Feathers in My Cap！！！ ！！' he wrote： Chaplain （hanging around officers' club every night） The two chaplain entries， therefore， neutralized each other. Alongside 'Ferrara' and 'Naked man in formation （after Avignon）' he then wrote： Yossarian！ Alongside 'Bologna （bomb line moved on map during）'， 'Food poisoning （during Bologna）' and 'Moaning （epidemic of during Avignon briefing）' he wrote in a bold， decisive hand： ？ Those entries labeled '？' were the ones he wanted to investigate immediately to determine if Yossarian had played any part in them.

    Suddenly his arm began to shake， and he was unable to write any more. He rose to his feet in terror， feeling sticky and fat， and rushed to the open window to gulp in fresh air. His gaze fell on the skeet-range， and he reeled away with a sharp cry of distress， his wild and feverish eyes scanning the walls of his office frantically as though they were swarming with Yossarians.

    Nobody loved him. General Dreedle hated him， although General Peckem liked him， although he couldn't be sure， since Colonel Cargill， General Peckem's aide， undoubtedly had ambitions of his own and was probably sabotaging him with General Peckem at every opportunity. The only good colonel， he decided， was a dead colonel， except for himself. The only colonel he trusted was Colonel Moodus， and even he had an in with his father-in-law. Milo， of course， had been the big feather in his cap， although having his group bombed by Milo's planes had probably been a terrible black eye for him， even though Milo had ultimately stilled all protest by disclosing the huge net profit the syndicate had realized on the deal with the enemy and convincing everyone that bombing his own men and planes had therefore really been a commendable and very lucrative blow on the side of private enterprise. The colonel was insecure about Milo because other colonels were trying to lure him away， and Colonel Cathcart still had that lousy Big Chief White Halfoat in his group who that lousy， lazy Captain Black claimed was the one really responsible for the bomb line's being moved during the Big Siege of Bologna. Colonel Cathcart liked Big Chief White Halfoat because Big Chief White Halfoat kept punching that lousy Colonel Moodus in the nose every time he got drunk and Colonel Moodus was around. He wished that Big Chief White Halfoat would begin punching Colonel Korn in his fat face， too. Colonel Korn was a lousy smart aleck. Someone at Twenty-seventh Air Force Headquarters had it in for him and sent back every report he wrote with a blistering rebuke， and Colonel Korn had bribed a clever mail clerk there named Wintergreen to try to find out who it was. Losing the plane over Ferrara the second time around had not done him any good， he had to admit， and neither had having that other plane disappear inside that cloud-that was one he hadn't even written down！ He tried to recall， longingly， if Yossarian had been lost in that plane in the cloud and realized that Yossarian could not possibly have been lost in that plane in the cloud if he was still around now raising such a big stink about having to fly a lousy five missions more.

    Maybe sixty missions were too many for the men to fly， Colonel Cathcart reasoned， if Yossarian objected to flying them， but he then remembered that forcing his men to fly more missions than everyone else was the most tangible achievement he had going for him. As Colonel Korn often remarked， the war was crawling with group commanders who were merely doing their duty， and it required just some sort of dramatic gesture like making his group fly more combat missions than any other bomber group to spotlight his unique qualities of leadership. Certainly none of the generals seemed to object to what he was doing， although as far as he could detect they weren't particularly impressed either， which made him suspect that perhaps sixty combat missions were not nearly enough and that he ought to increase the number at once to seventy， eighty， a hundred， or even two hundred， three hundred， or six thousand！

    Certainly he would be much better off under somebody suave like General Peckem than he was under somebody boorish and insensitive like General Dreedle， because General Peckem had the discernment， the intelligence and the Ivy League background to appreciate and enjoy him at his full value， although General Peckem had never given the slightest indication that he appreciated or enjoyed him at all. Colonel Cathcart felt perceptive enough to realize that visible signals of recognition were never necessary between sophisticated， self-assured people like himself and General Peckem who could warm to each other from a distance with innate mutual understanding. It was enough that they were of like kind， and he knew it was only a matter of waiting discreetly for preferment until the right time， although it rotted Colonel Cathcart's self-esteem to observe that General Peckem never deliberately sought him out and that he labored no harder to impress Colonel Cathcart with his epigrams and erudition than he did to impress anyone else in earshot， even enlisted men. Either Colonel Cathcart wasn't getting through to General Peckem or General Peckem was not the scintillating， discriminating， intellectual， forward-looking personality he pretended to be and it was really General Dreedle who was sensitive， charming， brilliant and sophisticated and under whom he would certainly be much better off， and suddenly Colonel Cathcart had absolutely no conception of how strongly he stood with anyone and began banging on his buzzer with his fist for Colonel Korn to come running into his office and assure him that everybody loved him， that Yossarian was a figment of his imagination， and that he was making wonderful progress in the splendid and valiant campaign he was waging to become a general.

    Actually， Colonel Cathcart did not have a chance in hell of becoming a general. For one thing， there was ex-P.F.C. Wintergreen， who also wanted to be a general and who always distorted， destroyed， rejected or misdirected any correspondence by， for or about Colonel Cathcart that might do him credit. For another， there already was a general， General Dreedle who knew that General Peckem was after his job but did not know how to stop him.

    General Dreedle， the wing commander， was a blunt， chunky， barrel-chested man in his early fifties. His nose was squat and red， and he had lumpy white， bunched-up eyelids circling his small gray eyes like haloes of bacon fat. He had a nurse and a son-in-law， and he was prone to long， ponderous silences when he had not been drinking too much. General Dreedle had wasted too much of his time in the Army doing his job well， and now it was too late. New power alignments had coalesced without him and he was at a loss to cope with them. At unguarded moments his hard and sullen face slipped into a somber， preoccupied look of defeat and frustration. General Dreedle drank a great deal. His moods were arbitrary and unpredictable. 'War is hell，' he declared frequently， drunk or sober， and he really meant it， although that did not prevent him from making a good living out of it or from taking his son-in-law into the business with him， even though the two bickered constantly.

    'That bastard，' General Dreedle would complain about his son-in-law with a contemptuous grunt to anyone who happened to be standing beside him at the curve of the bar of the officers' club. 'Everything he's got he owes to me. I made him， that lousy son of a bitch！ He hasn't got brains enough to get ahead on his own.'

    'He thinks he knows everything，' Colonel Moodus would retort in a sulking tone to his own audience at the other end of the bar. 'He can't take criticism and he won't listen to advice.'

    'All he can do is give advice，' General Dreedle would observe with a rasping snort. 'If it wasn't for me， he'd still be a corporal.' General Dreedle was always accompanied by both Colonel Moodus and his nurse， who was as delectable a piece of ass as anyone who saw her had ever laid eyes on. General Dreedle's nurse was chubby， short and blonde. She had plump dimpled cheeks， happy blue eyes， and neat curly turned-up hair. She smiled at everyone and never spoke at all unless she was spoken to. Her bosom was lush and her complexion clear. She was irresistible， and men edged away from her carefully. She was succulent， sweet， docile and dumb， and she drove everyone crazy but General Dreedle.

    'You should see her naked，' General Dreedle chortled with croupy relish， while his nurse stood smiling proudly right at his shoulder. 'Back at Wing she's got a uniform in my room made of purple silk that's so tight her nipples stand out like bing cherries. Milo got me the fabric. There isn't even room enough for panties or a brassiè；re underneath. I make her wear it some nights when Moodus is around just to drive him crazy.' General Dreedle laughed hoarsely. 'You should see what goes on inside that blouse of hers every time she shifts her weight. She drives him out of his mind. The first time I catch him putting a hand on her or any other woman I'll bust the horny bastard right down to private and put him on K.P. for a year.'

    'He keeps her around just to drive me crazy，' Colonel Moodus accused aggrievedly at the other end of the bar. 'Back at Wing she's got a uniform made out of purple silk that's so tight her nipples stand out like bing cherries. There isn't even room for panties or a brassiè；re underneath. You should hear that rustle every time she shifts her weight. The first time I make a pass at her or any other girl he'll bust me right down to private and put me on K.P. for a year. She drives me out of my mind.'

    'He hasn't gotten laid since we shipped overseas，' confided General Dreedle， and his square grizzled head bobbed with sadistic laughter at the fiendish idea. 'That's one of the reasons I never let him out of my sight， just so he can't get to a woman. Can you imagine what that poor son of a bitch is going through？'

    'I haven't been to bed with a woman since we shipped overseas，' Colonel Moodus whimpered tearfully. 'Can you imagine what I'm going through？' General Dreedle could be as intransigent with anyone else when displeased as he was with Colonel Moodus. He had no taste for sham， tact or pretension， and his credo as a professional soldier was unified and concise： he believed that the young men who took orders from him should be willing to give up their lives for the ideals， aspirations and idiosyncrasies of the old men he took orders from. The officers and enlisted men in his command had identity for him only as military quantities. All he asked was that they do their work； beyond that， they were free to do whatever they pleased. They were free， as Colonel Cathcart was free， to force their men to fly sixty missions if they chose， and they were free， as Yossarian had been free， to stand in formation naked if they wanted to， although General Dreedle's granite jaw swung open at the sight and he went striding dictatorially right down the line to make certain that there really was a man wearing nothing but moccasins waiting at attention in ranks to receive a medal from him. General Dreedle was speechless. Colonel Cathcart began to faint when he spied Yossarian， and Colonel Korn stepped up behind him and squeezed his arm in a strong grip. The silence was grotesque. A steady warm wind flowed in from the beach， and an old cart filled with dirty straw rumbled into view on the main road， drawn by a black donkey and driven by a farmer in a flopping hat and faded brown work clothes who paid no attention to the formal military ceremony taking place in the small field on his right.

    At last General Dreedle spoke. 'Get back in the car，' he snapped over his shoulder to his nurse， who had followed him down the line. The nurse toddled away with a smile toward his brown staff car， parked about twenty yards away at the edge of the rectangular clearing. General Dreedle waited in austere silence until the car door slammed and then demanded， 'Which one is this？' Colonel Moodus checked his roster. 'This one is Yossarian， Dad. He gets a Distinguished Flying Cross.'

    'Well， I'll be damned，' mumbled General Dreedle， and his ruddy monolithic face softened with amusement. 'Why aren't you wearing clothes， Yossarian？'

    'I don't want to.'

    'What do you mean you don't want to？ Why the hell don't you want to？'

    'I just don't want to， sir.'

    'Why isn't he wearing clothes？' General Dreedle demanded over his shoulder of Colonel Cathcart.

    'He's talking to you，' Colonel Korn whispered over Colonel Cathcart's shoulder from behind， jabbing his elbow sharply into Colonel Cathcart's back.

    'Why isn't he wearing clothes？' Colonel Cathcart demanded of Colonel Korn with a look of acute pain， tenderly nursing the spot where Colonel Korn had just jabbed him.

    'Why isn't he wearing clothes？' Colonel Korn demanded of Captain Piltchard and Captain Wren.

    'A man was killed in his plane over Avignon last week and bled all over him，' Captain Wren replied. 'He swears he's never going to wear a uniform again.'

    'A man was killed in his plane over Avignon last week and bled all over him，' Colonel Korn reported directly to General Dreedle. 'His uniform hasn't come back from the laundry yet.'

    'Where are his other uniforms？'

    'They're in the laundry， too.'

    'What about his underwear？' General Dreedle demanded.

    'All his underwear's in the laundry， too，' answered Colonel Korn.

    'That sounds like a lot of crap to me，' General Dreedle declared.

    'It is a lot of crap， sir，' Yossarian said.

    'Don't you worry， sir，' Colonel Cathcart promised General Dreedle with a threatening look at Yossarian. 'You have my personal word for it that this man will be severely punished.'

    'What the hell do I care if he's punished or not？' General Dreedle replied with surprise and irritation. 'He's just won a medal. If he wants to receive it without any clothes on， what the hell business is it of yours？'

    'Those are my sentiments exactly， sir！' Colonel Cathcart echoed with resounding enthusiasm and mopped his brow with a damp white handkerchief. 'But would you say that， sir， even in the light of General Peckem's recent memorandum on the subject of appropriate military attire in combat areas？'

    'Peckem？' General Dreedle's face clouded.

    'Yes， sir， sir，' said Colonel Cathcart obsequiously. 'General Peckem even recommends that we send our men into combat in full-dress uniform so they'll make a good impression on the enemy when they're shot down.'

    'Peckem？' repeated General Dreedle， still squinting with bewilderment. 'Just what the hell does Peckem have to do with it？' Colonel Korn jabbed Colonel Cathcart sharply again in the back with his elbow.

    'Absolutely nothing， sir！' Colonel Cathcart responded sprucely， wincing in extreme pain and gingerly rubbing the spot where Colonel Korn had just jabbed him again. 'And that's exactly why I decided to take absolutely no action at all until I first had an opportunity to discuss it with you. Shall we ignore it completely， sir？' General Dreedle ignored him completely， turning away from him in baleful scorn to hand Yossarian his medal in its case.

    'Get my girl back from the car，' he commanded Colonel Moodus crabbily， and waited in one spot with his scowling face down until his nurse had rejoined him.

    'Get word to the office right away to kill that directive I just issued ordering the men to wear neckties on the combat missions，' Colonel Cathcart whispered to Colonel Korn urgently out of the corner of his mouth.

    'I told you not to do it，' Colonel Korn snickered. 'But you just wouldn't listen to me.'

    'Shhhh！' Colonel Cathcart cautioned. 'Goddammit， Korn， what did you do to my back？' Colonel Korn snickered again.

    General Dreedle's nurse always followed General Dreedle everywhere he went， even into the briefing room just before the mission to Avignon， where she stood with her asinine smile at the side of the platform and bloomed like a fertile oasis at General Dreedle's shoulder in her pink-and-green uniform. Yossarian looked at her and fell in love， desperately. His spirits sank， leaving him empty inside and numb. He sat gazing in clammy want at her full red lips and dimpled cheeks as he listened to Major Danby describe in a monotonous， didactic male drone the heavy concentrations of flak awaiting them at Avignon， and he moaned in deep despair suddenly at the thought that he might never see again this lovely woman to whom he had never spoken a word and whom he now loved so pathetically. He throbbed and ached with sorrow， fear and desire as he stared at her； she was so beautiful. He worshiped the ground she stood on. He licked his parched， thirsting lips with a sticky tongue and moaned in misery again， loudly enough this time to attract the startled， searching glances of the men sitting around him on the rows of crude wooden benches in their chocolate-colored coveralls and stitched white parachute harnesses.

    Nately turned to him quickly with alarm. 'What is it？' he whispered. 'What's the matter？' Yossarian did not hear him. He was sick with lust and mesmerized with regret. General Dreedle's nurse was only a little chubby， and his senses were stuffed to congestion with the yellow radiance of her hair and the unfelt pressure of her soft short fingers， with the rounded， untasted wealth of her nubile breasts in her Army-pink shirt that was opened wide at the throat and with the rolling， ripened， triangular confluences of her belly and thighs in her tight， slick forest-green gabardine officer's pants. He drank her in insatiably from head to painted toenail. He never wanted to lose her. 'Oooooooooooooh，' he moaned again， and this time the whole room rippled at his quavering， drawn-out cry. A wave of startled uneasiness broke over the officers on the dais， and even Major Danby， who had begun synchronizing the watches， was distracted momentarily as he counted out the seconds and almost had to begin again. Nately followed Yossarian's transfixed gaze down the long frame auditorium until he came to General Dreedle's nurse. He blanched with trepidation when he guessed what was troubling Yossarian.

    'Cut it out， will you？' Nately warned in a fierce whisper.

    'Ooooooooooooooooooooh，' Yossarian moaned a fourth time， this time loudly enough for everyone to hear him distinctly.

    'Are you crazy？' Nately hissed vehemently. 'You'll get into trouble.'

    'Ooooooooooooooooooooh，' Dunbar answered Yossarian from the opposite end of the room.

    Nately recognized Dunbar's voice. The situation was now out of control， and he turned away with a small moan. 'Ooh.'

    'Ooooooooooooooooooooh，' Dunbar moaned back at him.

    'Ooooooooooooooooooooh，' Nately moaned out loud in exasperation when he realized that he had just moaned.

    'Ooooooooooooooooooooh，' Dunbar moaned back at him again.

    'Ooooooooooooooooooooh，' someone entirely new chimed in from another section of the room， and Nately's hair stood on end.

    Yossarian and Dunbar both replied while Nately cringed and hunted about futilely for some hole in which to hide and take Yossarian with him. A sprinkling of people were smothering laughter. An elfin impulse possessed Nately and he moaned intentionally the next time there was a lull. Another new voice answered. The flavor of disobedience was titillating， and Nately moaned deliberately again， the next time he could squeeze one in edgewise. Still another new voice echoed him. The room was boiling irrepressibly into bedlam. An eerie hubbub of voices was rising. Feet were scuffled， and things began to drop from people's fingers-pencils， computers， map cases， clattering steel flak helmets. A number of men who were not moaning were now giggling openly， and there was no telling how far the unorganized insurrection of moaning might have gone if General Dreedle himself had not come forward to quell it， stepping out determinedly in the center of the platform directly in front of Major Danby， who， with his earnest， persevering head down， was still concentrating on his wrist watch and saying， '…twenty-five seconds… twenty… fifteen…' General Dreedle's great， red domineering face was gnarled with perplexity and oaken with awesome resolution.

    'That will be all， men，' he ordered tersely， his eyes glaring with disapproval and his square jaw firm， and that's all there was. 'I run a fighting outfit，' he told them sternly， when the room had grown absolutely quiet and the men on the benches were all cowering sheepishly， 'and there'll be no more moaning in this group as long as I'm in command. Is that clear？' It was clear to everybody but Major Danby， who was still concentrating on his wrist watch and counting down the seconds aloud. '…four… three… two… one… time！' called out Major Danby， and raised his eyes triumphantly to discover that no one had been listening to him and that he would have to begin all over again. 'Ooooh，' he moaned in frustration.

    'What was that？' roared General Dreedle incredulously， and whirled around in a murderous rage upon Major Danby， who staggered back in terrified confusion and began to quail and perspire. 'Who is this man？'

    'M-major Danby， sir，' Colonel Cathcart stammered. 'My group operations officer.'

    'Take him out and shoot him，' ordered General Dreedle.

    'S-sir？'

    'I said take him out and shoot him. Can't you hear？'

    'Yes， sir！' Colonel Cathcart responded smartly， swallowing hard， and turned in a brisk manner to his chauffeur and his meteorologist. 'Take Major Danby out and shoot him.'

    'S-sir？' his chauffeur and his meteorologist stammered.

    'I said take Major Danby out and shoot him，' Colonel Cathcart snapped. 'Can't you hear？' The two young lieutenants nodded lumpishly and gaped at each other in stunned and flaccid reluctance， each waiting for the other to initiate the procedure of taking Major Danby outside and shooting him. Neither had ever taken Major Danby outside and shot him before. They inched their way dubiously toward Major Danby from opposite sides. Major Danby was white with fear. His legs collapsed suddenly and he began to fall， and the two young lieutenants sprang forward and seized him under both arms to save him from slumping to the floor. Now that they had Major Danby， the rest seemed easy， but there were no guns. Major Danby began to cry. Colonel Cathcart wanted to rush to his side and comfort him， but did not want to look like a sissy in front of General Dreedle. He remembered that Appleby and Havermeyer always brought their .45 automatics on the missions， and he began to scan the rows of men in search of them.

    As soon as Major Danby began to cry， Colonel Moodus， who had been vacillating wretchedly on the sidelines， could restrain himself no longer and stepped out diffidently toward General Dreedle with a sickly air of self-sacrifice. 'I think you'd better wait a minute， Dad，' he suggested hesitantly. 'I don't think you can shoot him.' General Dreedle was infuriated by his intervention. 'Who the hell says I can't？' he thundered pugnaciously in a voice loud enough to rattle the whole building. Colonel Moodus， his face flushing with embarrassment， bent close to whisper into his ear. 'Why the hell can't I？' General Dreedle bellowed. Colonel Moodus whispered some more. 'You mean I can't shoot anyone I want to？' General Dreedle demanded with uncompromising indignation. He pricked up his ears with interest as Colonel Moodus continued whispering. 'Is that a fact？' he inquired， his rage tamed by curiosity.

    'Yes， Dad. I'm afraid it is.'

    'I guess you think you're pretty goddam smart， don't you？' General Dreedle lashed out at Colonel Moodus suddenly.

    Colonel Moodus turned crimson again. 'No， Dad， it isn't-'

    'All right， let the insubordinate son of a bitch go，' General Dreedle snarled， turning bitterly away from his son-in-law and barking peevishly at Colonel Cathcart's chauffeur and Colonel Cathcart's meteorologist. 'But get him out of this building and keep him out. And let's continue this goddam briefing before the war ends. I've never seen so much incompetence.' Colonel Cathcart nodded lamely at General Dreedle and signaled his men hurriedly to push Major Danby outside the building. As soon as Major Danby had been pushed outside， though， there was no one to continue the briefing. Everyone gawked at everyone else in oafish surprise. General Dreedle turned purple with rage as nothing happened. Colonel Cathcart had no idea what to do. He was about to begin moaning aloud when Colonel Korn came to the rescue by stepping forward and taking control. Colonel Cathcart sighed with enormous， tearful relief， almost overwhelmed with gratitude.

    'Now， men， we're going to synchronize our watches，' Colonel Korn began promptly in a sharp， commanding manner， rolling his eyes flirtatiously in General Dreedle's direction. 'We're going to synchronize our watches one time and one time only， and if it doesn't come off in that one time， General Dreedle and I are going to want to know why. Is that clear？' He fluttered his eyes toward General Dreedle again to make sure his plug had registered. 'Now set your watches for nine-eighteen.' Colonel Korn synchronized their watches without a single hitch and moved ahead with confidence. He gave the men the colors of the day and reviewed the weather conditions with an agile， flashy versatility， casting sidelong， simpering looks at General Dreedle every few seconds to draw increased encouragement from the excellent impression he saw he was making. Preening and pruning himself effulgendy and strutting vaingloriously about the platform as he picked up momentum， he gave the men the colors of the day again and shifted nimbly into a rousing pep talk on the importance of the bridge at Avignon to the war effort and the obligation of each man on the mission to place love of country above love of life. When his inspiring dissertation was finished， he gave the men the colors of the day still one more time， stressed the angle of approach and reviewed the weather conditions again. Colonel Korn felt himself at the full height of his powers. He belonged in the spotlight.

    Comprehension dawned slowly on Colonel Cathcart； when it came， he was struck dumb. His face grew longer and longer as he enviously watched Colonel Korn's treachery continue， and he was almost afraid to listen when General Dreedle moved up beside him and， in a whisper blustery enough to be heard throughout the room， demanded， 'Who is that man？' Colonel Cathcart answered with wan foreboding， and General Dreedle then cupped his hand over his mouth and whispered something that made Colonel Cathcart's face glow with immense joy. Colonel Korn saw and quivered with uncontainable rapture. Had he just been promoted in the field by General Dreedle to full colonel？ He could not endure the suspense. With a masterful flourish， he brought the briefing to a close and turned expectantly to receive ardent congratulations from General Dreedle-who was already striding out of the building without a glance backward， trailing his nurse and Colonel Moodus behind him. Colonel Korn was stunned by this disappointing sight， but only for an instant. His eyes found Colonel Cathcart， who was still standing erect in a grinning trance， and he rushed over jubilantly and began pulling on his arm.

    'What'd he say about me？' he demanded excitedly in a fervor of proud and blissful anticipation. 'What did General Dreedle say？'

    'He wanted to know who you were.'

    'I know that. I know that. But what'd he say about me？ What'd he say？'

    'You make him sick.'