“Catch-22” By Joseph - Khamkoo

“Catch-22” By Joseph Heller 213
gingerly, expecting at any instant to be ordered back by a peremptory voice or halted in
his tracks by a heavy blow on the shoulder or the head. They did nothing to stop him.
He found his way through the stale, dark, dank corridors to the flight of stairs. He was
staggering and panting when he climbed out into the fresh air. As soon as he had
escaped, a feeling of overwhelining moral outrage filled him. He was furious, more
furious at the atrocities of the day than he had ever felt before in his whole life. He swept
through the spacious, echoing lobby of the building in a temper of scalding and
vindictive resentment. He was not going to stand for it any more, he told himself, he was
simply not going to stand for it. When he reached the entrance, he spied, with a feeling
of good fortune, Colonel Korn trotting up the wide steps alone. Bracing himself with a
deep breath, the chaplain moved courageously forward to intercept him.
‘Colonel, I’m not going to stand for it any more,’ he declared with vehement
determination, and watched in dismay as Colonel Korn went trotting by up the steps
without even noticing him. ‘Colonel Korn!’ The tubby, loose figure of his superior officer
stopped, turned and came trotting back down slowly. ‘What is it, Chaplain?’
‘Colonel Korn, I want to talk to you about the crash this morning. It was a terrible thing
to happen, terrible!’ Colonel Korn was silent a moment, regarding the chaplain with a
glint of cynical amusement. ‘Yes, Chaplain, it certainly was terrible,’ he said finally. ‘I
don’t know how we’re going to write this one up without making ourselves look bad.’
‘That isn’t what I meant,’ the chaplain scolded firmly without any fear at all. ‘Some of
those twelve men had already finished their seventy missions.’ Colonel Korn laughed.
‘Would it be any less terrible if they had all been new men?’ he inquired caustically.
Once again the chaplain was stumped. Immoral logic seemed to be confounding him
at every turn. He was less sure of himself than before when he continued, and his voice
wavered. ‘Sir, it just isn’t right to make the men in this group fly eighty missions when
the men in other groups are being sent home with fifty and fifty-five.’
‘We’ll take the matter under consideration,’ Colonel Korn said with bored disinterest,
and started away. ‘Adios, Padre.’
‘What does that mean, sir?’ the chaplain persisted in a voice turning shrill.
Colonel Korn stopped with an unpleasant expression and took a step back down. ‘It
means we’ll think about it, Padre,’ he answered with sarcasm and contempt. ‘You
wouldn’t want us to do anything without thinking about it, would you?’
‘No, sir, I suppose not. But you have been thinking about it, haven’t you?’
‘Yes, Padre, we have been thinking about it. But to make you happy, we’ll think about
it some more, and you’ll be the first person we’ll tell if we reach a new decision. And
now, adios.’ Colonel Korn whirled away again and hurried up the stairs.
‘Colonel Korn!’ The chaplain’s cry made Colonel Korn stop once more. His head
swung slowly around toward the chaplain with a look of morose impatience. Words
gushed from the chaplain in a nervous torrent. ‘Sir, I would like your permission to take
the matter to General Dreedle. I want to bring my protests to Wing Headquarters.’
Colonel Korn’s thick, dark jowls inflated unexpectedly with a suppressed guffaw, and it
took him a moment to reply. ‘That’s all right, Padre,’ he answered with mischievous
merriment, trying hard to keep a straight face. ‘You have my permission to speak to
General Dreedle.’
‘Thank you, sir. I believe it only fair to warn you that I think I have some influence with
General Dreedle.’
‘It’s good of you to warn me, Padre. And I believe it only fair to warn you that you won’t
find General Dreedle at Wing.’ Colonel Korn grinned wickedly and then broke into
triumphant laughter. ‘General Dreedle is out, Padre. And General Peckem is in. We
have a new wing commander.’ The chaplain was stunned. ‘General Peckem!’
‘That’s right, Chaplain. Have you got any influence with him?’
‘Why, I don’t even know General Peckem,’ the chaplain protested wretchedly.
Colonel Korn laughed again. ‘That’s too bad, Chaplain, because Colonel Cathcart
knows him very well.’ Colonel Korn chuckled steadily with gloating relish for another
second or two and then stopped abruptly. ‘And by the way, Padre,’ he warned coldly,