Yossarian refuses to fly more missions

Yossarian refuses to fly more combat missions, a decision that transforms him from a haunted bombardier into a walking insurrection. After Nately's death in the mid-air collision over Spezia, Yossarian marches backward through the squadron with his hand on his .45 pistol, smiling at no one but Hungry Joe. He tells Captain Piltchard and Captain Wren that he is through flying. They leave his name off the flight schedule and report the matter to Group Headquarters. Colonel Korn laughs calmly at the news. "What the devil do you mean, he won't fly more missions?" he asks with a smile, as Colonel Cathcart creeps away into a corner to brood about the sinister import of the name Yossarian popping up to plague him once again. "Why won't he?" Piltchard and Wren suggest that Nately's death might be the reason. Colonel Korn is pleased with the simile of Achilles and files a mental reminder to repeat it the next time he finds himself in General Peckem's presence. "He has to fly more missions. He has no choice." He tells them to go back and inform Yossarian that they will report the matter to Group if he does not change his mind. They already did that, they reply; it made no difference. Major Major, they add, seems to have disappeared. "I wish we could disappear him!" Colonel Cathcart blurts out from the corner peevishly, "The way they did that fellow Dunbar." Colonel Korn assures him there are plenty of other ways to handle this one. He orders Piltchard and Wren to send Yossarian to Rome for a rest, thinking that Nately's death might have hurt him a bit.

The Deal with Colonel Korn

Colonel Korn and Colonel Cathcart summon Yossarian to Colonel Cathcart's office, where a guard of ten massive M.P.s escorts him. Colonel Korn chases the M.P.s out with an insouciant flick of his hand and a slightly contemptuous nod. He is most relaxed, as always, when he can be most cynical. His rimless square eyeglasses glint with sly amusement as he gazes 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." Colonel Cathcart blurts out that he would like to tie Yossarian up hand and foot and throw him aboard a plane on every mission. Colonel Korn motions him to be silent and smiles at Yossarian. "You know, you really have been making things terribly difficult for Colonel Cathcart," he observes with flip good humor, as though the fact does not displease him at all. "The men are unhappy and morale is beginning to deteriorate. And it's all your fault." Yossarian argues that it is their fault for raising the number of missions. Colonel Korn retorts that the men were perfectly content to fly as many missions as they asked as long as they thought they had no alternative; now Yossarian has given them hope, and they are unhappy. Colonel Cathcart demands morosely whether Yossarian knows there is a war going on. Colonel Korn answers that he is quite sure he does, which is probably why he refuses to fly them. He asks Yossarian whether the knowledge that there is a war going on will weaken his decision to refuse to participate in it. Yossarian replies, "No, sir," almost returning Colonel Korn's smile. Colonel Korn remarks that in all fairness, they have not treated him too badly: they fed him, paid him on time, gave him a medal, and even made him a captain. Colonel Cathcart exclaims bitterly that he never should have made him a captain; he should have given him a court-martial after he loused up that Ferrara mission and went around twice. Colonel Korn says he told him not to promote him, but he would not listen. The two bicker until Colonel Cathcart burrows his fists down deep inside his pockets and turns away in a slouch, telling Korn to figure out what to do about him. Colonel Korn announces that they are going to send him home. "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—" Yossarian demands to know what kind of deal. Colonel Korn tosses his head back and laughs. "Oh, a thoroughly despicable deal, make no mistake about that. It's absolutely revolting. But you'll accept it quickly enough." Yossarian warns him not to be too sure. Colonel Korn says he has not the slightest doubt he will, even though it stinks to high heaven. He asks whether Yossarian has told any of the men he has refused to fly more missions. Yossarian answers promptly that he has not. Colonel Korn nods approvingly. "That's good. I like the way you lie. You'll go far in this world if you ever acquire some decent ambition." Colonel Cathcart yells out again whether Yossarian knows there is a war going on. Colonel Korn replies acidly that he brought that identical point to his attention just a moment ago. He frowns 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 lifts his flaccid haunches far back on the corner to sit with both short legs dangling freely. His shoes kick lightly against the yellow oak wood, his sludge-brown socks, garterless, collapsed in sagging circles below ankles that are surprisingly small and white. He muses affably in a manner of casual reflection that seems both derisive and sincere. "You know, Yossarian, I really do admire you a bit. You're an intelligent person of great moral character who has taken a very courageous stand. I'm an intelligent person with no moral character at all, so I'm in an ideal position to appreciate it." Colonel Cathcart asserts petulantly from a far corner that these are very critical times. Colonel Korn agrees with a placid nod, noting that they have just had a change of command above and cannot afford a situation that might put them in a bad light with either General Scheisskopf or General Peckem. Colonel Cathcart demands whether Yossarian has any patriotism. Colonel Korn, emulating Colonel Cathcart's harsh, self-righteous tone, asks whether he will fight for his country, whether he will give up his life for Colonel Cathcart and him. Yossarian tenses with alert astonishment. "What's that? What have you and Colonel Cathcart got to do with my country? You're not the same." Colonel Korn inquires with ironical tranquillity how he can separate them. Colonel Cathcart cries emphatically that he is either for them or against them; there is no two ways about it. Colonel Korn adds that he is either for them or against his country; it is as simple as that. Yossarian refuses to buy that. Colonel Korn is unruffled. "Neither do I, frankly, but everyone else will. So there you are." Colonel Cathcart declares with blustering wrath that Yossarian is a disgrace to his uniform and wants to know how he ever got to be a captain. Colonel Korn reminds sweetly that he promoted him. Colonel Cathcart says he never should have done it. Colonel Korn says he told him not to do it, but he would not listen. Colonel Cathcart cries for him to stop rubbing it in and asks whose side he is on. Colonel Korn assures him he is on his side, just loaded with patriotism. Colonel Cathcart turns away grudgingly, incompletely reassured, and begins striding the floor, his hands kneading his long cigarette holder. He jerks 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." Colonel Korn points out that General Dreedle is not with them any more, so they cannot take him outside and shoot him. Now that his moment of tension with Colonel Cathcart has passed, Colonel Korn relaxes again and resumes kicking softly against Colonel Cathcart's desk. He returns to Yossarian. "So we're going to send you home instead. It took a bit of thinking, but we finally worked out this horrible little plan for sending you home without causing too much dissatisfaction among the friends you'll leave behind. Doesn't that make you happy?" Yossarian says he is not sure he is going to like it. Colonel Korn laughs, locking his hands contentedly on top of his head again. "I know you're not going to like it. You're going to loathe it. It really is odious and certainly will offend your conscience. But you'll agree to it quickly enough. You'll agree to it because it will send you home safe and sound in two weeks, and because you have no choice. It's that or a court-martial. Take it or leave it." Yossarian snorts and tells him to stop bluffing; he cannot court-martial him for desertion in the face of the enemy because it would make him look bad and he probably could not get a conviction. Colonel Korn counters that they can court-martial him now for desertion from duty, since he went to Rome without a pass, and they could make it stick. "If you think about it a minute, you'll see that you'd leave us no alternative. We can't simply let you keep walking around in open insubordination without punishing you. All the other men would stop flying missions, too. No, you have my word for it. We will court-martial you if you turn our deal down, even though it would raise a lot of questions and be a terrible black eye for Colonel Cathcart." Colonel Cathcart winces at the words "black eye" and, without any apparent premeditation, hurls his slender onyx-and-ivory cigarette holder down viciously on the wooden surface of his desk. "Jesus Christ!" he shouts unexpectedly. "I hate this goddam cigarette holder!" The cigarette holder bounces off the desk to the wall, ricochets across the window sill to the floor and comes to a stop almost where he is standing. Colonel Cathcart stares down at it with an irascible scowl. "I wonder if it's really doing me any good." Colonel Korn informs him with a mischievous look of innocence that it is a feather in his cap with General Peckem but a black eye for him with General Scheisskopf. Colonel Cathcart asks which one he is supposed to please. "Both." "How can I please them both? They hate each other. How am I ever going to get a feather in my cap from General Scheisskopf without getting a black eye from General Peckem?" "March." "Yeah, march. That's the only way to please him. March. March." Colonel Cathcart grimaces sullenly. "Some generals! They're a disgrace to their uniforms. If people like those two can make general, I don't see how I can miss." Colonel Korn assures him he is going to go far, with a flat lack of conviction, and turns back chuckling to Yossarian, his disdainful merriment increasing at the sight of Yossarian's unyielding expression of antagonism and distrust. "And there you have the crux of the situation. Colonel Cathcart wants to be a general and I want to be a colonel, and that's why we have to send you home." Yossarian asks why he wants to be a general. "Why? For the same reason that I want to be a colonel. What else have we got to do? Everyone teaches us to aspire to higher things. A general is higher than a colonel, and a colonel is higher than a lieutenant colonel. So we're both aspiring. And you know, Yossarian, it's a lucky thing for you that we are. Your timing on this is absolutely perfect, but I suppose you took that factor into account in your calculations." Yossarian retorts that he has not been doing any calculating. Colonel Korn says he really does enjoy the way he lies. He asks whether it will not make him proud to have his commanding officer promoted to general, to know he served in an outfit that averaged more combat missions per person than any other. Does he not want to earn more unit citations and more oak leaf clusters for his Air Medal? Where is his esprit de corps? Does he not want to contribute further to this great record by flying more combat missions? It is his last chance to answer yes. Yossarian says no. Colonel Korn says without rancor that in that case, he has them over a barrel, and they have to send him home. "Just do a few little things for us, and—" Yossarian interrupts with belligerent misgiving to ask what sort of things. "Oh, tiny, insignificant things. Really, this is a very generous deal we're making with you. We will issue orders returning you to the States—really, we will—and all you have to do in return is…" Yossarian asks what he must do. Colonel Korn laughs curtly. "Like us." Yossarian blinks. "Like you?" "Like us." "Like you?" "That's right," says Colonel Korn, nodding, gratified immeasurably by Yossarian's guileless surprise and bewilderment. "Like us. Join us. Be our pal. Say nice things about us here and back in the States. Become one of the boys. Now, that isn't asking too much, is it?" Yossarian asks if that is all. "That's all." "Just find it in your heart to like us." Yossarian wants to laugh confidently when he sees with amazement that Colonel Korn is telling the truth. "That isn't going to be too easy," he sneers. Colonel Korn taunts in return, undismayed by Yossarian's barb. "Oh, it will be a lot easier than you think. You'll be surprised at how easy you'll find it to like us once you begin." Colonel Korn hitches up the waist of his loose, voluminous trousers. The deep black grooves isolating his square chin from his jowls are bent again in a kind of jeering and reprehensible mirth. "You see, Yossarian, we're going to put you on easy street. We're going to promote you to major and even give you another medal. Captain Flume is already working on glowing press releases describing your valor over Ferrara, your deep and abiding loyalty to your outfit and your consummate dedication to duty. Those phrases are all actual quotations, by the way. We're going to glorify you and send you home a hero, recalled by the Pentagon for morale and public-relations purposes. You'll live like a millionaire. Everyone will lionize you. You'll have parades in your honor and make speeches to raise money for war bonds. A whole new world of luxury awaits you once you become our pal. Isn't it lovely?" Yossarian finds himself listening intently to the fascinating elucidation of details. He says he is not sure he wants to make speeches. Colonel Korn says they will forget the speeches. The important thing is what he says to people here. He leans forward earnestly, no longer smiling. "We don't want any of the men in the group to know that we're sending you home as a result of your refusal to fly more missions. And we don't want General Peckem or General Scheisskopf to get wind of any friction between us, either. That's why we're going to become such good pals." Yossarian asks what he will say to the men who asked him why he refused to fly more missions. "Tell them you had been informed in confidence that you were being returned to the States and that you were unwilling to risk your life for another mission or two. Just a minor disagreement between pals, that's all." Yossarian asks whether they will believe it. "Of course they'll believe it, once they see what great friends we've become and when they see the press releases and read the flattering things you have to say about me and Colonel Cathcart. Don't worry about the men. They'll be easy enough to discipline and control when you've gone. It's only while you're still here that they may prove troublesome. You know, one good apple can spoil the rest," Colonel Korn concludes with conscious irony. "You know—this would really be wonderful—you might even serve as an inspiration to them to fly more missions." Yossarian asks what if he denounces them when he gets back to the States. "After you've accepted our medal and promotion and all the fanfare? No one would believe you, the Army wouldn't let you, and why in the world should you want to? You're going to be one of the boys, remember? You'll enjoy a rich, rewarding, luxurious, privileged existence. You'd have to be a fool to throw it all away just for a moral principle, and you're not a fool. Is it a deal?" Yossarian says he does not know. Colonel Korn says it is that or a court-martial. Yossarian asks whether it is not a pretty scummy trick he would be playing on the men in the squadron. "Odious," Colonel Korn agrees amiably, and waits, watching Yossarian patiently with a glimmer of private delight. "But what the hell!" Yossarian exclaims. "If they don't want to fly more missions, let them stand up and do something about it the way I did. Right?" "Of course," says Colonel Korn. "There's no reason I have to risk my life for them, is there?" "Of course not." Yossarian arrives at his decision with a swift grin. "It's a deal!" he announces jubilantly. "Great," says Colonel Korn with somewhat less cordiality than Yossarian had expected, and he slides himself off Colonel Cathcart's desk to stand on the floor. He tugs the folds of cloth of his pants and undershorts free from his crotch and gives Yossarian a limp hand to shake. "Welcome aboard." Yossarian thanks him. "Call me Blackie, John. We're pals now." "Sure, Blackie. My friends call me Yo-Yo. Blackie, I—" Colonel Korn sings out to Colonel Cathcart that his friends call him Yo-Yo and asks him to congratulate Yo-Yo on what a sensible move he is making. Colonel Cathcart pumps Yossarian's hand with clumsy zeal. "That's a real sensible move you're making, Yo-Yo." Yossarian thanks him. "Call him Chuck," says Colonel Korn. "Sure, call me Chuck," says Colonel Cathcart with a laugh that is hearty and awkward. "We're all pals now." "Sure, Chuck." "Exit smiling," says Colonel Korn, his hands on both their shoulders as the three of them move to the door. Colonel Cathcart invites Yossarian to come over for dinner with them some night, that very night, in the group dining room. Yossarian says he would love to. Colonel Korn corrects him reprovingly: "Chuck." Yossarian apologizes and says he cannot get used to it. "That's all right, pal." "Sure, pal." "Thanks, pal." "Don't mention it, pal." "So long, pal." Yossarian waves goodbye fondly to his new pals and saunters out onto the balcony corridor, almost bursting into song the instant he is alone. He is home free: he has pulled it off; his act of rebellion has succeeded; he is safe, and he has nothing to be ashamed of to anyone. He starts toward the staircase with a jaunty and exhilarated air. A private in green fatigues salutes him. Yossarian returns the salute happily, staring at the private with curiosity. He looks strangely familiar. When Yossarian returns the salute, the private in green fatigues turns suddenly into Nately's whore and lunges at him murderously with a bone-handled kitchen knife that catches him in the side below his upraised arm. Yossarian sinks to the floor with a shriek, shutting his eyes in overwhelming terror as he sees the girl lift the knife to strike at him again. He is already unconscious when Colonel Korn and Colonel Cathcart dash out of the office and save his life by frightening her away.

Breaking the Agreement and the Escape

In the hospital, Yossarian reconsiders. The chaplain visits, having heard that Yossarian stopped a Nazi assassin from killing Colonel Cathcart and Colonel Korn. Yossarian snickers sardonically and explains that it was Nately's whore, and she was after him. He tells the chaplain about the deal. The chaplain is appalled, calling it a shameful, scandalous deal. Yossarian agrees that "odious" is the word they decided on. The chaplain asks how he could agree to it. Yossarian says it is that or a court-martial. The chaplain says he must do whatever he thinks is right. Yossarian says with a sorrowful laugh, "Don't worry. I'm not going to do it." The chaplain insists he must. Yossarian hauls himself over onto his side and shakes his head in solemn mockery. "Christ, Chaplain! Can you imagine that for a sin? Saving Colonel Cathcart's life! That's one crime I don't want on my record." The chaplain asks what he will do instead. Yossarian says he will fly more missions, or maybe he really will desert and let them catch him. The chaplain says they would put him in prison. Yossarian says he will just keep flying missions until the war ends. The chaplain says he might get killed. "Then I guess I won't fly any more missions." "What will you do?" "I don't know." Major Danby arrives and tells Yossarian that the deal is still on, that everything is working out fine. Yossarian says he is not making any deals with Colonel Korn. Major Danby is anguished, asking whether he does not have an agreement. Yossarian says he is breaking the agreement. Major Danby asks whether he shook hands on it, whether he gave his word as a gentleman. "I'm breaking my word." Major Danby asks why, saying it is a very good deal they are offering. "It's a lousy deal, Danby. It's an odious deal." Major Danby concedes that it is odious but asks why he made such a deal if he did not like it. "I did it in a moment of weakness. I was trying to save my life." "Don't you want to save your life now?" "That's why I won't let them make me fly more missions." "Then let them send you home and you'll be in no more danger." "Let them send me home because I flew more than fifty missions," Yossarian says, "and not because I was stabbed by that girl, or because I've turned into such a stubborn son of a bitch." Major Danby explains that they would have to send nearly every man home if they did that; Colonel Cathcart could not requisition so many inexperienced replacement crews at one time without causing an investigation; he is caught in his own trap. Yossarian says that is his problem. Major Danby says it is Yossarian's problem, because if he does not go through with the deal, they are going to institute court-martial proceedings as soon as he signs out of the hospital. Yossarian thumbed his nose at Major Danby and laughed with smug elation. "The hell they will! Don't lie to me, Danby. They wouldn't even try." He explains that there is an official report that says he was stabbed by a Nazi assassin trying to kill them; they would certainly look silly trying to court-martial him after that. Major Danby exclaims that there is another official report that says he was stabbed by an innocent girl in the course of extensive black-market operations involving acts of sabotage and the sale of military secrets to the enemy. Yossarian is taken back severely with surprise and disappointment. "Another official report?" "Yossarian, they can prepare as many official reports as they want and choose whichever ones they need on any given occasion. Didn't you know that?" "Oh, dear," Yossarian murmurs in heavy dejection, the blood draining from his face. Major Danby presses forward avidly with a look of vulturous well-meaning, urging him to do what they want and let them send him home; it is best for everyone that way. Yossarian says it is best for Cathcart, Korn, and him, not for everyone. Major Danby insists it is for everyone; it will solve the whole problem. Yossarian asks if it is best for the men in the group who will have to keep flying more missions. Major Danby flinches and turns his face away uncomfortably for a second. He says it will help nobody if Yossarian forces Colonel Cathcart to court-martial him and prove him guilty of all the crimes with which he will be charged; he will go to prison for a long time, and his whole life will be ruined. Yossarian asks what crimes they will charge him with. "Incompetence over Ferrara, insubordination, refusal to engage the enemy in combat when ordered to do so, and desertion." Yossarian sucks his cheeks in soberly. "They could charge me with all that, could they? They gave me a medal for Ferrara. How could they charge me with incompetence now?" Major Danby says Aarfy will swear that he and McWatt lied in their official report. Yossarian says he will bet the bastard would. Major Danby recites that they will also find him guilty of rape, extensive black-market operations, acts of sabotage and the sale of military secrets to the enemy. Yossarian protests that he never did a single one of those things. "But they have witnesses who will swear you did. They can get all the witnesses they need simply by persuading them that destroying you is for the good of the country. And in a way, it would be for the good of the country." Yossarian demands to know in what way. Major Danby draws back a bit and begins mopping his forehead again. He explains that it would not help the war effort to bring Colonel Cathcart and Colonel Korn into disrepute now; in spite of everything, the group does have a very good record. If Yossarian were court-martialed and found innocent, other men would probably refuse to fly missions, too. Colonel Cathcart would be in disgrace, and the military efficiency of the unit might be destroyed. So in that way it would be for the good of the country to have him found guilty and put in prison, even though he is innocent. Yossarian snaps with caustic resentment, "What a sweet way you have of putting things!" Major Danby turns red and squirms and squints uneasily, pleading that it is not his fault. Yossarian says he did not create the situation. "But you can resolve it. And what else can you do? You don't want to fly more missions." "I can run away." "Run away?" "Desert. Take off. I can turn my back on the whole damned mess and start running." Major Danby is shocked, asking where he could go. Yossarian says he could get to Rome easily enough and hide himself there. Major Danby argues that he would live in danger every minute of his life that they would find him; that would be a disastrous and ignoble thing to do; running away from problems never solved them. Yossarian retorts sarcastically that that is what that kind detective said before he decided to jab his thumb into his wound. Major Danby replies with indignation that he is not a detective; he is a university professor with a highly developed sense of right and wrong, and he would not try to deceive him; he would not lie to anyone. Yossarian asks what he would do if one of the men in the group asked him about this conversation. "I would lie to him." Yossarian laughs mockingly. Major Danby, despite his blushing discomfort, leans back with relief. Yossarian gazes at him with a mixture of reserved pity and contempt. He sits up in bed with his back resting against the headboard, lights a cigarette, smiles slightly with wry amusement, and stares with whimsical sympathy at the vivid, pop-eyed horror that has implanted itself permanently on Major Danby's face since the day of the mission to Avignon, when General Dreedle ordered him taken outside and shot. With deliberate amiability, he asks Danby how he can work along with people like Cathcart and Korn; does it not turn his stomach? Major Danby seems surprised by the question. "I do it to help my country," he replies, as though the answer should have been obvious. "Colonel Cathcart and Colonel Korn are my superiors, and obeying their orders is the only contribution I can make to the war effort. I work along with them because it's my duty. And also," he adds in a much lower voice, dropping his eyes, "because I am not a very aggressive person." Yossarian reasons with antagonism that his country does not need his help any more, so all he is doing is helping them. Major Danby admits frankly that he tries not to think of that; he tries to concentrate on only the big result and to forget that they are succeeding, too; he tries to pretend that they are not significant. Yossarian muses sympathetically, folding his arms, "That's my trouble, you know. Between me and every ideal I always find Scheisskopfs, Peckems, Korns and Cathcarts. And that sort of changes the ideal." Major Danby advises affirmatively that he must try not to think of them and must never let them change his values; ideals are good, but people are sometimes not so good; he must try to look up at the big picture. Yossarian rejects the advice with a skeptical shake of his head. "When I look up, I see people cashing in. I don't see heaven or saints or angels. I see people cashing in on every decent impulse and every human tragedy." Major Danby insists that he must try not to think of that, too, and must try not to let it upset him. "Oh, it doesn't really upset me. What does upset me, though, is that they think I'm a sucker. They think that they're smart, and that the rest of us are dumb. And, you know, Danby, the thought occurs to me right now, for the first time, that maybe they're right." Major Danby argues that he must think only of the welfare of his country and the dignity of man. Yossarian says, "Yeah." Major Danby insists that this is not World War One; he must never forget that they are at war with aggressors who would not let either one of them live if they won. Yossarian replies tersely with a sudden surge of scowling annoyance. "Christ, Danby, I earned that medal I got, no matter what their reasons were for giving it to me. I've flown seventy goddam combat missions. Don't talk to me about fighting to save my country. I've been fighting all along to save my country. Now I'm going to fight a little to save myself. The country's not in danger any more, but I am." Major Danby says the war is not over yet; the Germans are driving toward Antwerp. Yossarian says the Germans will be beaten in a few months, and Japan will be beaten a few months after that. If he were to give up his life now, it would not be for his country; it would be for Cathcart and Korn. So he is turning his bombsight in for the duration. From now on he is thinking only of himself. Major Danby replies indulgently with a superior smile, "But, Yossarian, suppose everyone felt that way." "Then I'd certainly be a damned fool to feel any other way, wouldn't I?" Yossarian sits up straighter with a quizzical expression. "You know, I have a queer feeling that I've been through this exact conversation before with someone. It's just like the chaplain's sensation of having experienced everything twice." Major Danby remarks that the chaplain wants him to let them send him home. Yossarian says the chaplain can jump in the lake. Major Danby sighs, shaking his head in regretful disappointment, and says the chaplain is afraid he might have influenced him. "He didn't influence me. You know what I might do? I might stay right here in this hospital bed and vegetate. I could vegetate very comfortably right here and let other people make the decisions." Major Danby disagrees, saying he must make decisions; a person cannot live like a vegetable. Yossarian asks why not. A distant warm look enters Major Danby's eyes. "It must be nice to live like a vegetable," he concedes wistfully. "It's lousy," answers Yossarian. "No, it must be very pleasant to be free from all this doubt and pressure," insists Major Danby. "I think I'd like to live like a vegetable and make no important decisions." Yossarian asks what kind of vegetable. "A cucumber or a carrot." "What kind of cucumber? A good one or a bad one?" "Oh, a good one, of course." "They'd cut you off in your prime and slice you up for a salad." Major Danby's face falls. "A poor one, then." "They'd let you rot and use you for fertilizer to help the good ones grow." "I guess I don't want to live like a vegetable, then," says Major Danby with a smile of sad resignation. Yossarian asks him seriously whether he must really let them send him home. Major Danby shrugs. "It's a way to save yourself." "It's a way to lose myself, Danby. You ought to know that." "You could have lots of things you want." "I don't want lots of things I want," Yossarian replies, and then beats his fist down against the mattress in an outburst of rage and frustration. "Goddammit, Danby! I've got friends who were killed in this war. I can't make a deal now. Getting stabbed by that bitch was the best thing that ever happened to me." Major Danby asks whether he would rather go to jail. Yossarian asks whether he would let them send him home. Major Danby declares with conviction that he would, then adds in a less positive manner, then decides uncomfortably after lapsing into troubled contemplation that he would let them send him home if he were in Yossarian's place. Then he throws his face sideways disgustedly in a gesture of violent distress and blurts out, "Oh, yes, of course I'd let them send me home! But I'm such a terrible coward I couldn't really be in your place." Yossarian demands, studying him closely, "But suppose you weren't a coward? Suppose you did have the courage to defy somebody?" "Then I wouldn't let them send me home," Major Danby vows emphatically with vigorous joy and enthusiasm. "But I certainly wouldn't let them court-martial me." "Would you fly more missions?" "No, of course not. That would be total capitulation. And I might be killed." "Then you'd run away?" Major Danby starts to retort with proud spirit and comes to an abrupt stop, his half-opened jaw swinging closed dumbly. He purses his lips in a tired pout. "I guess there just wouldn't be any hope for me, then, would there?" His forehead and protuberant white eyeballs are soon glistening nervously again. He crosses his limp wrists in his lap and hardly seems to be breathing as he sits with his gaze drooping toward the floor in acquiescent defeat. Dark, steep shadows slant in from the window. Yossarian watches him solemnly, and neither of the two men stirs at the rattling noise of a speeding vehicle skidding to a stop outside and the sound of racing footsteps pounding toward the building in haste. Yossarian remembers with a sluggish flow of inspiration that Milo might help him; he is bigger than Colonel Cathcart, and he owes him a few favors. Major Danby shakes his head and answers tonelessly that Milo and Colonel Cathcart are pals now; he made Colonel Cathcart a vice-president and promised him an important job after the war. Yossarian exclaims that ex-P.F.C. Wintergreen will help them; he hates them both, and this will infuriate him. Major Danby shakes his head bleakly again. "Milo and ex-P.F.C. Wintergreen merged last week. They're all partners now in M & M Enterprises." "Then there is no hope for us, is there?" "No hope." "No hope at all, is there?" "No, no hope at all," Major Danby concedes. He looks up after a while with a half-formed notion. "Wouldn't it be nice if they could disappear us the way they disappeared the others and relieve us of all these crushing burdens?" Yossarian says no. Major Danby agrees with a melancholy nod, lowering his eyes again, and there is no hope at all for either of them until footsteps explode in the corridor suddenly and the chaplain, shouting at the top of his voice, comes bursting into the room with the electrifying news about Orr, so overcome with hilarious excitement that he is almost incoherent for a minute or two. Tears of great elation are sparkling in his eyes, and Yossarian leaps out of bed with an incredulous yelp when he finally understands. "Sweden?" he cries. "Orr!" cries the chaplain. "Orr?" cries Yossarian. "Sweden!" cries the chaplain, shaking his head up and down with gleeful rapture and prancing about uncontrollably from spot to spot in a grinning, delicious frenzy. "It's a miracle, I tell you! A miracle! I believe in God again. I really do. Washed ashore in Sweden after so many weeks at sea! It's a miracle." "Washed ashore, hell!" Yossarian declares, jumping all about also and roaring in laughing exultation at the walls, the ceiling, the chaplain and Major Danby. "He didn't wash ashore in Sweden. He rowed there! He rowed there, Chaplain, he rowed there." "Rowed there?" "He planned it that way! He went to Sweden deliberately." The chaplain flings back with undiminished zeal that it is still a miracle, a miracle of human intelligence and human endurance. He clutches his head with both hands and doubles over in laughter. "Can't you just picture him? Can't you just picture him in that yellow raft, paddling through the Straits of Gibraltar at night with that tiny little blue oar—" "With that fishing line trailing out behind him, eating raw codfish all the way to Sweden, and serving himself tea every afternoon—" "I can just see him!" cries the chaplain, pausing a moment in his celebration to catch his breath. "It's a miracle of human perseverance, I tell you. And that's just what I'm going to do from now on! I'm going to persevere. Yes, I'm going to persevere." "He knew what he was doing every step of the way!" Yossarian rejoices, holding both fists aloft triumphantly as though hoping to squeeze revelations from them. He spins to a stop facing Major Danby. "Danby, you dope! There is hope, after all. Can't you see? Even Clevinger might be alive somewhere in that cloud of his, hiding inside until it's safe to come out." Major Danby asks in confusion what they are both talking about. "Bring me apples, Danby, and chestnuts too. Run, Danby, run. Bring me crab apples and horse chestnuts before it's too late, and get some for yourself." "Horse chestnuts? Crab apples? What in the world for?" "To pop into our cheeks, of course." Yossarian throws his arms up into the air in a gesture of mighty and despairing self-recrimination. "Oh, why didn't I listen to him? Why wouldn't I have some faith?" Major Danby demands with alarm and bewilderment whether he has gone crazy and asks him to please tell him what he is talking about. "Danby, Orr planned it that way. Don't you understand—he planned it that way from the beginning. He even practiced getting shot down. He rehearsed for it on every mission he flew. And I wouldn't go with him! Oh, why wouldn't I listen? He invited me along, and I wouldn't go with him! Danby, bring me buck teeth too, and a valve to fix and a look of stupid innocence that nobody would ever suspect of any cleverness. I'll need them all. Oh, why wouldn't I listen to him. Now I understand what he was trying to tell me. I even understand why that girl was hitting him on the head with her shoe." The chaplain asks sharply why. Yossarian whirls and seizes the chaplain by the shirt front in an importuning grip. "Chaplain, help me! Please help me. Get my clothes. And hurry, will you? I need them right away." The chaplain starts away alertly. "Yes, Yossarian, I will. But where are they? How will I get them?" "By bullying and browbeating anybody who tries to stop you. Chaplain, get me my uniform! It's around this hospital somewhere. For once in your life, succeed at something." The chaplain straightens his shoulders with determination and tightens his jaw. "Don't worry, Yossarian. I'll get your uniform. But why was that girl hitting Orr over the head with her shoe? Please tell me." "Because he was paying her to, that's why! But she wouldn't hit him hard enough, so he had to row to Sweden. Chaplain, find me my uniform so I can get out of here. Ask Nurse Duckett for it. She'll help you. She'll do anything she can to be rid of me." Major Danby asks apprehensively where he is going and what he is going to do. "I'm going to run away," Yossarian announces in an exuberant, clear voice, already tearing open the buttons of his pajama tops. Major Danby groans and begins patting his perspiring face rapidly with the bare palms of both hands. "You can't run away. Where can you run to? Where can you go?" "To Sweden." "To Sweden?" Major Danby exclaims in astonishment. "You're going to run to Sweden? Are you crazy?" "Orr did it." "Oh, no, no, no, no, no," Major Danby pleads. "No, Yossarian, you'll never get there. You can't run away to Sweden. You can't even row." "But I can get to Rome if you'll keep your mouth shut when you leave here and give me a chance to catch a ride. Will you do it?" "But they'll find you," Major Danby argues desperately, "and bring you back and punish you even more severely." "They'll have to try like hell to catch me this time." "They will try like hell. And even if they don't find you, what kind of way is that to live? You'll always be alone. No one will ever be on your side, and you'll always live in danger of betrayal." "I live that way now." "But you can't just turn your back on all your responsibilities and run away from them," Major Danby insists. "It's such a negative move. It's escapist." Yossarian laughs with buoyant scorn and shakes his head. "I'm not running away from my responsibilities. I'm running to them. There's nothing negative about running away to save my life. You know who the escapists are, don't you, Danby? Not me and Orr." The chaplain cheers, proudly throwing on the bed a pillowcase full of Yossarian's clothing. "Run away to Sweden, Yossarian. And I'll stay here and persevere. Yes. I'll persevere. I'll nag and badger Colonel Cathcart and Colonel Korn every time I see them. I'm not afraid. I'll even pick on General Dreedle." Yossarian reminds him that General Dreedle is out; it is General Peckem now. The chaplain's babbling confidence does not falter for an instant. "Then I'll pick on General Peckem, and even on General Scheisskopf. And do you know what else I'm going to do? I'm going to punch Captain Black in the nose the very next time I see him. Yes, I'm going to punch him in the nose. I'll do it when lots of people are around so that he may not have a chance to hit me back." Major Danby protests whether they have both gone crazy. The chaplain proclaims it is a miracle, seizing Major Danby about the waist and dancing him around with his elbows extended for a waltz. "A real miracle. If Orr could row to Sweden, then I can triumph over Colonel Cathcart and Colonel Korn, if only I persevere." Major Danby entreats the chaplain to shut up, pulling free and patting his perspiring brow with a fluttering motion. He bends toward Yossarian, who is reaching for his shoes. "What about Colonel—" "I couldn't care less." "But this may actua—" "To hell with them both!" "This may actually help them," Major Danby persists stubbornly. "Have you thought of that?" "Let the bastards thrive, for all I care, since I can't do a thing to stop them but embarrass them by running away. I've got responsibilities of my own now, Danby. I've got to get to Sweden." "You'll never make it. It's impossible. It's almost a geographical impossibility to get there from here." "Hell, Danby, I know that. But at least I'll be trying. There's a young kid in Rome whose life I'd like to save if I can find her. I'll take her to Sweden with me if I can find her, so it isn't all selfish, is it?" "It's absolutely insane. Your conscience will never let you rest." "God bless it." Yossarian laughs. "I wouldn't want to live without strong misgivings. Right, Chaplain?" The chaplain glorifies that he is going to punch Captain Black right in the nose the next time he sees him, throwing two left jabs in the air and then a clumsy haymaker. "Just like that." Major Danby demands what about the disgrace. "What disgrace? I'm more in disgrace now." Yossarian ties a hard knot in the second shoelace and springs to his feet. "Well, Danby, I'm ready. What do you say? Will you keep your mouth shut and let me catch a ride?" Major Danby regards Yossarian in silence, with a strange, sad smile. He has stopped sweating and seems absolutely calm. "What would you do if I did try to stop you?" he asks with rueful mockery. "Beat me up?" Yossarian reacts to the question with hurt surprise. "No, of course not. Why do you say that?" The chaplain boasts that he will beat him up, dancing up very close to Major Danby and shadowboxing. "You and Captain Black, and maybe even Corporal Whitcomb. Wouldn't it be wonderful if I found I didn't have to be afraid of Corporal Whitcomb any more?" Yossarian asks Major Danby whether he is going to stop him, and gazes at him steadily. Major Danby skips away from the chaplain and hesitates a moment longer. "No, of course not!" he blurts out, and suddenly is waving both arms toward the door in a gesture of exuberant urgency. "Of course I won't stop you. Go, for God sakes, and hurry! Do you need any money?" Yossarian says he has some money. "Well, here's some more." With fervent, excited enthusiasm, Major Danby presses a thick wad of Italian currency upon Yossarian and clasps his hand in both his own, as much to still his own trembling fingers as to give encouragement to Yossarian. "It must be nice to be in Sweden now," he observes yearningly. "The girls are so sweet. And the people are so advanced." The chaplain calls out goodbye and good luck, saying he will stay here and persevere, and they will meet again when the fighting stops. "So long, Chaplain. Thanks, Danby." "How do you feel, Yossarian?" "Fine. No, I'm very frightened." "That's good," says Major Danby. "It proves you're still alive. It won't be fun." Yossarian starts out. "Yes it will." "I mean it, Yossarian. You'll have to keep on your toes every minute of every day. They'll bend heaven and earth to catch you." "I'll keep on my toes every minute." "You'll have to jump." "I'll jump." "Jump!" Major Danby cries. Yossarian jumps. Nately's whore is hiding just outside the door. The knife comes down, missing him by inches, and he takes off.