“Colonel Korn says,” said Major Danby to Yossarian with a prissy, gratified smile, “that the deal is still on.

　　Everything is working out fine.”

　　“No it isn’t.”

　　“Oh, yes, indeed,” Major Danby insisted benevolently. “In fact, everything is much better. It was really a strokeof luck that you were almost murdered by that girl. Now the deal can go through perfectly.”

　　“I’m not making any deals with Colonel Korn.”

　　Major Danby’s effervescent optimism vanished instantly, and he broke out all at once into a bubbling sweat.

　　“But you do have a deal with him, don’t you?” he asked in anguished puzzlement. “Don’t you have anagreement?”

　　“I’m breaking the agreement.”

　　“But you shook hands on it, didn’t you? You gave him your word as a gentleman.”

　　“I’m breaking my word.”

　　“Oh, dear,” sighed Major Danby, and began dabbing ineffectually at his careworn brow with a folded whitehandkerchief. “But why, Yossarian? It’s a very good deal they’re offering you.”

　　“It’s a lousy deal, Danby. It’s an odious deal.”

　　“Oh, dear,” Major Danby fretted, running his bare hand over his dark, wiry hair, which was already soaked withperspiration to the tops of the thick, close-cropped waves. “Oh dear.”

　　“Danby, don’t you think it’s odious?”

　　Major Danby pondered a moment. “Yes, I suppose it is odious,” he conceded with reluctance. His globular,exophthalmic eyes were quite distraught. “But why did you make such a deal if you didn’t like it?”

　　“I did it in a moment of weakness,” Yossarian wisecracked with glum irony. “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 said, “and not because I wasstabbed by that girl, or because I’ve turned into such a stubborn son of a bitch.”

　　Major Danby shook his head emphatically in sincere and bespectacled vexation. “They’d have to send nearlyevery man home if they did that. Most of the men have more than fifty missions. Colonel Cathcart couldn’tpossibly requisition so many inexperienced replacement crews at one time without causing an investigation. He’scaught in his own trap.”

　　“That’s his problem.”

　　“No, no, no, Yossarian,” Major Danby disagreed solicitously. “It’s your problem. Because if you don’t gothrough with the deal, they’re going to institute court-martial proceedings as soon as you sign out of thehospital.”

　　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.”

　　“But why wouldn’t they?” inquired Major Danby, blinking with astonishment.

　　“Because I’ve really got them over a barrel now. There’s an official report that says I was stabbed by a Naziassassin trying to kill them. They’d certainly look silly trying to court-martial me after that.”

　　“But, Yossarian!” Major Danby exclaimed. “There’s another official report that says you were stabbed by aninnocent girl in the course of extensive black-market operations involving acts of sabotage and the sale ofmilitary secrets to the enemy.”

　　Yossarian was 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 anygiven occasion. Didn’t you know that?”

　　“Oh, dear,” Yossarian murmured in heavy dejection, the blood draining from his face. “Oh, dear.”

　　Major Danby pressed forward avidly with a look of vulturous well-meaning. “Yossarian, do what they want andlet them send you home. It’s best for everyone that way.”

　　“It’s best for Cathcart, Korn and me, not for everyone.”

　　“For everyone,” Major Danby insisted. “It will solve the whole problem.”

　　“Is it best for the men in the group who will have to keep flying more missions?”

　　Major Danby flinched and turned his face away uncomfortably for a second. “Yossarian,” he replied, “it willhelp nobody if you force Colonel Cathcart to court-martial you and prove you guilty of all the crimes with whichyou’ll be charged. You will go to prison for a long time, and your whole life will be ruined.”

　　Yossarian listened to him with a growing feeling of concern. “What crimes will they charge me with?”

　　“Incompetence over Ferrara, insubordination, refusal to engage the enemy in combat when ordered to do so, anddesertion.”

　　Yossarian sucked his cheeks in soberly. “They could charge me with all that, could they? They gave me a medalfor Ferrara. How could they charge me with incompetence now?”

　　“Aarfy will swear that you and McWatt lied in your official report.”

　　“I’ll bet the bastard would!”

　　“They will also find you guilty,” Major Danby recited, “of rape, extensive black-market operations, acts ofsabotage and the sale of military secrets to the enemy.”

　　“How will they prove any of that? I 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 persuadingthem that destroying you is for the good of the country. And in a way, it would be for the good of the country.”

　　“In what way?” Yossarian demanded, rising up slowly on one elbow with bridling hostility.

　　Major Danby drew back a bit and began mopping his forehead again. “Well, Yossarian,” he began with anapologetic stammer, “it would not help the war effort to bring Colonel Cathcart and Colonel Korn into disreputenow. Let’s face it, Yossarian—in spite of everything, the group does have a very good record. If you were courtmartialedand found innocent, other men would probably refuse to fly missions, too. Colonel Cathcart would bein disgrace, and the military efficiency of the unit might be destroyed. So in that way it would be for the good ofthe country to have you found guilty and put in prison, even though you are innocent.”

　　“What a sweet way you have of putting things!” Yossarian snapped with caustic resentment.

　　Major Danby turned red and squirmed and squinted uneasily. “Please don’t blame me,” he pleaded with a look ofanxious integrity. “You know it’s not my fault. All I’m doing is trying to look at things objectively and arrive ata solution to a very difficult situation.”

　　“I didn’t 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 was shocked. “Where to? Where could you go?”

　　“I could get to Rome easily enough. And I could hide myself there.”

　　“And live in danger every minute of your life that they would find you? No, no, no, no, Yossarian. That wouldbe a disastrous and ignoble thing to do. Running away from problems never solved them. Please believe me. Iam only trying to help you.”

　　“That’s what that kind detective said before he decided to jab his thumb into my wound,” Yossarian retortedsarcastically.

　　“I am not a detective,” Major Danby replied with indignation, his cheeks flushing again. “I’m a universityprofessor with a highly developed sense of right and wrong, and I wouldn’t try to deceive you. I wouldn’t lie toanyone.”

　　“What would you do if one of the men in the group asked you about this conversation?”

　　“I would lie to him.”

　　Yossarian laughed mockingly, and Major Danby, despite his blushing discomfort, leaned back with relief, asthough welcoming the respite Yossarian’s changing mood promised. Yossarian gazed at him with a mixture ofreserved pity and contempt. He sat up in bed with his back resting against the headboard, lit a cigarette, smiledslightly with wry amusement, and stared with whimsical sympathy at the vivid, pop-eyed horror that hadimplanted itself permanently on Major Danby’s face the day of the mission to Avignon, when General Dreedlehad ordered him taken outside and shot. The startled wrinkles would always remain, like deep black scars, andYossarian felt sorry for the gentle, moral, middle-aged idealist, as he felt sorry for so many people whoseshortcomings were not large and whose troubles were light.

　　With deliberate amiability he said, “Danby, how can you work along with people like Cathcart and Korn?

　　Doesn’t it turn your stomach?”

　　Major Danby seemed surprised by Yossarian’s question. “I do it to help my country,” he replied, as though theanswer should have been obvious. “Colonel Cathcart and Colonel Korn are my superiors, and obeying theirorders is the only contribution I can make to the war effort. I work along with them because it’s my duty. Andalso,” he added in a much lower voice, dropping his eyes, “because I am not a very aggressive person.”

　　“Your country doesn’t need your help any more,” Yossarian reasoned with antagonism. “So all you’re doing ishelping them.”

　　“I try not to think of that,” Major Danby admitted frankly. “But I try to concentrate on only the big result and toforget that they are succeeding, too. I try to pretend that they are not significant.”

　　“That’s my trouble, you know,” Yossarian mused sympathetically, folding his arms. “Between me and everyideal I always find Scheisskopfs, Peckems, Korns and Cathcarts. And that sort of changes the ideal.”

　　“You must try not to think of them,” Major Danby advised affirmatively. “And you must never let them changeyour values. Ideals are good, but people are sometimes not so good. You must try to look up at the big picture.”

　　Yossarian rejected the advice with a skeptical shake of his head. “When I look up, I see people cashing in. Idon’t see heaven or saints or angels. I see people cashing in on every decent impulse and every human tragedy.”

　　“But you must try not to think of that, too,” Major Danby insisted. “And you must try not to let it upset you.”

　　“Oh, it doesn’t really upset me. What does upset me, though, is that they think I’m a sucker. They think thatthey’re smart, and that the rest of us are dumb. And, you know, Danby, the thought occurs to me right now, forthe first time, that maybe they’re right.”

　　“But you must try not to think of that too,” argued Major Danby. “You must think only of the welfare of yourcountry and the dignity of man.”

　　“Yeah,” said Yossarian.

　　“I mean it, Yossarian. This is not World War One. You must never forget that we’re at war with aggressors whowould not let either one of us live if they won.”

　　“I know that,” Yossarian replied tersely, with a sudden surge of scowling annoyance. “Christ, Danby, I earnedthat medal I got, no matter what their reasons were for giving it to me. I’ve flown seventy goddam combatmissions. 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.”

　　“The war’s not over yet. The Germans are driving toward Antwerp.”

　　“The Germans will be beaten in a few months. And Japan will be beaten a few months after that. If I were to giveup my life now, it wouldn’t be for my country. It would be for Cathcart and Korn. So I’m turning my bombsightin for the duration. From now on I’m thinking only of me.”

　　Major Danby replied 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 sat up straighter with aquizzical expression. “You know, I have a queer feeling that I’ve been through this exact conversation beforewith someone. It’s just like the chaplain’s sensation of having experienced everything twice.”

　　“The chaplain wants you to let them send you home,” Major Danby remarked.

　　“The chaplain can jump in the lake.”

　　“Oh, dear.” Major Danby sighed, shaking his head in regretful disappointment. “He’s afraid he might haveinfluenced you.”

　　“He didn’t influence me. You know what I might do? I might stay right here in this hospital bed and vegetate. Icould vegetate very comfortably right here and let other people make the decisions.”

　　“You must make decisions,” Major Danby disagreed. “A person can’t live like a vegetable.”

　　“Why not?”

　　A distant warm look entered Major Danby’s eyes. “It must be nice to live like a vegetable,” he concededwistfully.

　　“It’s lousy,” answered Yossarian.

　　“No, it must be very pleasant to be free from all this doubt and pressure,” insisted Major Danby. “I think I’d liketo live like a vegetable and make no important decisions.”

　　“What kind of vegetable, Danby?”

　　“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 fell. “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,” said Major Danby with a smile of sad resignation.

　　“Danby, must I really let them send me home?” Yossarian inquired of him seriously.

　　Major Danby shrugged. “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 replied, and then beat his fist down against the mattress in anoutburst of rage and frustration. “Goddammit, Danby! I’ve got friends who were killed in this war. I can’t makea deal now. Getting stabbed by that bitch was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

　　“Would you rather go to jail?”

　　“Would you let them send you home?”

　　“Of course I would!” Major Danby declared with conviction. “Certainly I would,” he added a few moments lat............