“Catch-22” By Joseph - Khamkoo

“Catch-22” By Joseph Heller 212
Colonel Cathcart that states you once told him atheism was not against the law. Do you
recall ever making a statement like that to anyone?’ The chaplain nodded without any
hesitation, feeling himself on very solid ground now. ‘Yes, sir, I did make a statement
like that. I made it because it’s true. Atheism is not against the law.’
‘But that’s still no reason to say so, Chaplain, is it?’ the officer chided tartly, frowning,
and picked up still one more typewritten, notarized page from the folder. ‘And here I
have another sworn statement from Sergeant Whitcomb that says you opposed his plan
of sending letters of condolence over Colonel Cathcart’s signature to the next of kin of
men killed or wounded in combat. Is that true?’
‘Yes, sir, I did oppose it,’ answered the chaplain. ‘And I’m proud that I did. Those
letters are insincere and dishonest. Their only purpose is to bring glory to Colonel
Cathcart.’
‘But what difference does that make?’ replied the officer. ‘They still bring solace and
comfort to the families that receive them, don’t they? Chaplain, I simply can’t understand
your thinking process.’ The chaplain was stumped and at a complete loss for a reply. He
hung his head, feeling tongue-tied and naive.
The ruddy stout colonel stepped forward vigorously with a sudden idea. ‘Why don’t we
knock his goddam brains out?’ he suggested with robust enthusiasm to the others.
‘Yes, we could knock his goddam brains out, couldn’t we?’ the hawk-faced major
agreed. ‘He’s only an Anabaptist.’
‘No, we’ve got to find him guilty first,’ the officer without insignia cautioned with a
languid restraining wave. He slid lightly to the floor and moved around to the other side
of the table, facing the chaplain with both hands pressed flat on the surface. His
expression was dark and very stern, square and forbidding. ‘Chaplain,’ he announced
with magisterial rigidity, ‘we charge you formally with being Washington Irving and taking
capricious and unlicensed liberties in censoring the letters of officers and enlisted men.
Are you guilty or innocent?’
‘Innocent, sir.’ The chaplain licked dry lips with a dry tongue and leaned forward in
suspense on the edge of his chair.
‘Guilty,’ said the colonel.
‘Guilty,’ said the major.
‘Guilty it is, then,’ remarked the officer without insignia, and wrote a word on a page in
the folder. ‘Chaplain,’ he continued, looking up, ‘we accuse you also of the commission
of crimes and infractions we don’t even know about yet. Guilty or innocent?’
‘I don’t know, sir. How can I say if you don’t tell me what they are?’
‘How can we tell you if we don’t know?’
‘Guilty,’ decided the colonel.
‘Sure he’s guilty,’ agreed the major. ‘If they’re his crimes and infractions, he must have
committed them.’
‘Guilty it is, then,’ chanted the officer without insignia, and moved off to the side of the
room. ‘He’s all yours, Colonel.’
‘Thank you,’ commended the colonel. ‘You did a very good job.’ He turned to the
chaplain. ‘Okay, Chaplain, the jig’s up. Take a walk.’ The chaplain did not understand.
‘What do you wish me to do?’
‘Go on, beat it, I told you!’ the colonel roared, jerking a thumb over his shoulder
angrily. ‘Get the hell out of here.’ The chaplain was shocked by his bellicose words and
tone and, to his own amazement and mystification, deeply chagrined that they were
turning him loose. ‘Aren’t you even going to punish me?’ he inquired with querulous
surprise.
‘You’re damned right we’re going to punish you. But we’re certainly not going to let
you hang around while we decide how and when to do it. So get going. Hit the road.’
The chaplain rose tentatively and took a few steps away. ‘I’m free to go?’
‘For the time being. But don’t try to leave the island. We’ve got your number, Chaplain.
Just remember that we’ve got you under surveillance twenty-four hours a day.’ It was
not conceivable that they would allow him to leave. The chaplain walked toward the exit