Havermeyer and Yossarian

Havermeyer and Yossarian are bombardiers in the same squadron whose relationship is defined by a stark contrast in their attitudes toward combat: Havermeyer, a lead bombardier who never takes evasive action and is praised by Colonel Cathcart, embodies a reckless, rule-bound approach to flying, while Yossarian, a former lead bombardier demoted for his refusal to risk his life, represents a desperate, survival-driven defiance. Their interactions—ranging from Havermeyer's boastful cruelty to Yossarian's bitter mockery—highlight the novel's central conflict between institutional valorization of self-destructive courage and the individual's will to live.

Contrast in Combat Philosophy

Havermeyer is a lead bombardier who never misses his target and never takes evasive action going in, thereby increasing the danger for every man flying in formation with him. When the other pilots rage at him after a mission, demanding to know why he refuses to take evasive action, Colonel Cathcart intervenes, ordering them to leave Havermeyer alone and declaring, "He's the best damned bombardier we've got." Havermeyer flies straight and level from the initial point to the target and even beyond, watching his bombs strike the ground with deep interest, giving German gunners all the time they need to aim and fire. Yossarian, by contrast, was a lead bombardier who was demoted because he no longer cared whether he hit the target or not; his only mission each time he went up was to come down alive. The men had loved flying behind Yossarian, who used to barrel in over the target from all directions, climbing and diving and twisting so steeply that it was all the other pilots could do to stay in formation, leveling out only for the two or three seconds needed to drop bombs before zooming off again.

Havermeyer's Cruelty and Yossarian's Mockery

Havermeyer's character is further defined by his nighttime hobby of shooting field mice in his tent with the .45 pistol he stole from the dead man in Yossarian's tent. He baits them with candy, presights in the darkness, and waits for the nibble; when the mouse freezes in the sudden light, Havermeyer laughs aloud and pulls the trigger, showering the furry body all over the tent. This casual, gleeful violence mirrors his approach to combat. Yossarian, who shares a tent with the dead man's belongings, is directly affected by Havermeyer's theft and his presence. When Doc Daneeka advises Yossarian to "just smile and make the best of it" and "be like Havermeyer," Yossarian shudders at the suggestion. Later, during the mission to Bologna, Yossarian is assigned to fly lead bombardier with McWatt, and he comes in on the target like a Havermeyer, confidently taking no evasive action—only to be lured, trapped, and subjected to heavy flak that nearly kills him.

The Night of the Machine Gun

On Thanksgiving night, after a drunken celebration, Yossarian is terrified by machine-gun fire from the hills, believing Milo is attacking the squadron again. He charges out with his .45, ready to kill. Havermeyer, hiding in the leafless shrubs beside Yossarian's tent, pops out to ask how he is doing. When Yossarian tells him he refuses to fly more missions, Havermeyer reveals that Piltchard and Wren offered Yossarian a deal to fly only milk runs. Havermeyer calls this unfair, complaining that if Yossarian only flew milk runs, others would have to fly his share of dangerous missions. Yossarian sarcastically suggests Havermeyer put on a gun and start marching with him. Havermeyer declines, saying he cannot act like a coward because he wants to stay in the reserves after the war for the five hundred dollars a year. He then asks Yossarian, if he is sent home and allowed to take one person, to pick him—not Appleby. This exchange reveals Havermeyer's self-interest and his inability to break from the system, even as he envies Yossarian's defiance.

Thematic Significance

The relationship between Havermeyer and Yossarian embodies the novel's critique of a military system that rewards suicidal bravery and punishes rational self-preservation. Havermeyer, praised by Colonel Cathcart and admired for his accuracy, is a tool of the institution, his cruelty toward mice mirroring his indifference to the men he endangers. Yossarian, branded a coward for refusing to fly, is the only one who sees the absurdity of the system. Their interactions—from Havermeyer's boastful cruelty to Yossarian's bitter mockery—underscore the novel's central conflict between institutional valorization of self-destructive courage and the individual's will to live. Havermeyer's final plea to be taken home if Yossarian escapes reveals that even the most obedient soldier secretly longs for the same freedom, but lacks the courage to seize it.