Corporal Kolodny learned about it first in a phone call from Group and was so shaken by the news that hecrossed the intelligence tent on tiptoe to Captain Black, who was resting drowsily with his bladed shins up on thedesk, and relayed the information to him in a shocked whisper.
Captain Black brightened immediately. “Bologna?” he exclaimed with delight. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He brokeinto loud laughter. “Bologna, huh?” He laughed again and shook his head in pleasant amazement. “Oh, boy! Ican’t wait to see those bastards’ faces when they find out they’re going to Bologna. Ha, ha, ha!”
It was the first really good laugh Captain Black had enjoyed since the day Major Major outsmarted him and wasappointed squadron commander, and he rose with torpid enthusiasm and stationed himself behind the frontcounter in order to wring the most enjoyment from the occasion when the bombardiers arrived for their map kits.
“That’s right, you bastards, Bologna,” he kept repeating to all the bombardiers who inquired incredulously ifthey were really going to Bologna. “Ha! Ha! Ha! Eat your livers, you bastards. This time you’re really in for it.”
Captain Black followed the last of them outside to observe with relish the effect of the knowledge upon all of theother officers and enlisted men who were assembling with their helmets, parachutes and flak suits around thefour trucks idling in the center of the squadron area. He was a tall, narrow, disconsolate man who moved with acrabby listlessness. He shaved his pinched, pale face every third or fourth day, and most of the time he appearedto be growing a reddish-gold mustache over his skinny upper lip. He was not disappointed in the scene outside.
There was consternation darkening every expression, and Captain Black yawned deliciously, rubbed the lastlethargy from his eyes and laughed gloatingly each time he told someone else to eat his liver.
Bologna turned out to be the most rewarding event in Captain Black’s life since the day Major Duluth was killedover Perugia and he was almost selected to replace him. When word of Major Duluth’s death was radioed backto the field, Captain Black responded with a surge of joy. Although he had never really contemplated thepossibility before, Captain Black understood at once that he was the logical man to succeed Major Duluth assquadron commander. To begin with, he was the squadron intelligence officer, which meant he was moreintelligent than everyone else in the squadron. True, he was not on combat status, as Major Duluth had been andas all squadron commanders customarily were; but this was really another powerful argument in his favor, sincehis life was in no danger and he would be able to fill the post for as long as his country needed him. The moreCaptain Black thought about it, the more inevitable it seemed. It was merely a matter of dropping the right wordin the right place quickly. He hurried back to his office to determine a course of action. Settling back in hisswivel chair, his feet up on the desk and his eyes closed, he began imagining how beautiful everything would beonce he was squadron commander.
While Captain Black was imagining, Colonel Cathcart was acting, and Captain Black was flabbergasted by thespeed with which, he concluded, Major Major had outsmarted him. His great dismay at the announcement ofMajor Major’s appointment as squadron commander was tinged with an embittered resentment he made no effortto conceal. When fellow administrative officers expressed astonishment at Colonel Cathcart’s choice of MajorMajor, Captain Black muttered that there was something funny going on; when they speculated on the politicalvalue of Major Major’s resemblance to Henry Fonda, Captain Black asserted that Major Major really was HenryFonda; and when they remarked that Major Major was somewhat odd, Captain Black announced that he was aCommunist.
“They’re taking over everything,” he declared rebelliously. “Well, you fellows can stand around and let them ifyou want to, but I’m not going to. I’m going to do something about it. From now on I’m going to make every sonof a bitch who comes to my intelligence tent sign a loyalty oath. And I’m not going to let that bastard MajorMajor sign one even if he wants to.”
Almost overnight the Glorious Loyalty Oath Crusade was in full flower, and Captain Black was enraptured todiscover himself spearheading it. He had really hit on something. All the enlisted men and officers on combatduty had to sign a loyalty oath to get their map cases from the intelligence tent, a second loyalty oath to receivetheir flak suits and parachutes from the parachute tent, a third loyalty oath for Lieutenant Balkington, the motorvehicle officer, to be allowed to ride from the squadron to the airfield in one of the trucks. Every time they turnedaround there was another loyalty oath to be signed. They signed a loyalty oath to get their pay from the financeofficer, to obtain their PX supplies, to have their hair cut by the Italian barbers. To Captain Black, every officerwho supported his Glorious Loyalty Oath Crusade was a competitor, and he planned and plotted twenty-fourhours a day to keep one step ahead. He would stand second to none in his devotion to country. When otherofficers had followed his urging and introduced loyalty oaths of their own, he went them one better by makingevery son of a bitch who came to his intelligence tent sign two loyalty oaths, then three, then four; then heintroduced the pledge of allegiance, and after that “The Star-Spangled Banner,” one chorus, two choruses, threechoruses, four choruses. Each time Captain Black forged ahead of his competitors, he swung upon themscornfully for their failure to follow his example. Each time they followed his example, he retreated with concernand racked his brain for some new stratagem that would enable him to turn upon them scornfully again.
Without realizing how it had come about, the combat men in the squadron discovered themselves dominated bythe administrators appointed to serve them. They were bullied, insulted, harassed and shoved about all day longby one after the other. When they voiced objection, Captain Black replied that people who were loyal would notmind signing all the loyalty oaths they had to. To anyone who questioned the effectiveness of the loyalty oaths,he replied that people who really did owe allegiance to their country would be proud to pledge it as often as heforced them to. And to anyone who questioned the morality, he replied that “The Star-Spangled Banner” was thegreatest piece of music ever composed. The more loyalty oaths a person signed, the more loyal he was; toCaptain Black it was as simple as that, and he had Corporal Kolodny sign hundreds with his name each day sothat he could always prove he was more loyal than anyone else.
“The important thing is to keep them pledging,” he explained to his cohorts. “It doesn’t matter whether theymean it or not. That’s why they make little kids pledge allegiance even before they know what ‘pledge’ and ‘allegiance’ mean.”
To Captain Piltchard and Captain Wren, the Glorious Loyalty Oath Crusade was a glorious pain in the ass, sinceit complicated their task of organizing the crews for each combat mission. Men were tied up all over thesquadron signing, pledging and singing, and the missions took hours longer to get under way. Effectiveemergency action became impossible, but Captain Piltchard and Captain Wren were both too timid to raise anyoutcry against Captain Black, who scrupulously enforced each day the doctrine of “Continual Reaffirmation”
that he had originated, a doctrine designed to trap all those men who had become disloyal since the last time theyhad signed a loyalty oath the day before. It was Captain Black who came with advice to Captain Piltchard andCaptain Wren as the............