Catch-22(150)
“No, I don’t think so.” Major Danby was sweating some more and still shifting his eyes about uneasily. “The Germans might find out and choose another road. I’m not sure about any of this. I’m just making assumptions.”
“They won’t even take shelter,” Dunbar argued bitterly. “They’ll pour out into the streets to wave when they see our planes coming, all the children and dogs and old people. Jesus Christ! Why can’t we leave them alone?”
“Why can’t we create the roadblock somewhere else?” asked McWatt. “Why must it be there?”
“I don’t know,” Major Danby answered unhappily. “I don’t know. Look, fellows, we’ve got to have some confidence in the people above us who issue our orders. They know what they’re doing.”
“The hell they do,” said Dunbar.
“What’s the trouble?” inquired Colonel Korn, moving leisurely across the briefing room with his hands in his pockets and his tan shirt baggy.
“Oh, no trouble, Colonel,” said Major Danby, trying nervously to cover up. “We’re just discussing the mission.”
“They don’t want to bomb the village,” Havermeyer snickered, giving Major Danby away.
“You prick!” Yossarian said to Havermeyer.
“You leave Havermeyer alone,” Colonel Korn ordered Yossarian curtly. He recognized Yossarian as the drunk who had accosted him roughly at the officers’ club one night before the first mission to Bologna, and he swung his displeasure prudently to Dunbar. “Why don’t you want to bomb the village?”
“It’s cruel, that’s why.”
“Cruel?” asked Colonel Korn with cold good humor, frightened only momentarily by the uninhibited vehemence of Dunbar’s hostility. “Would it be any less cruel to let those two German divisions down to fight with our troops? American lives are at stake, too, you know. Would you rather see American blood spilled?”
“American blood is being spilled. But those people are living up there in peace. Why can’t we leave them the hell alone?”
“Yes, it’s easy for you to talk,” Colonel Korn jeered. “You’re safe here in Pianosa. It won’t make any difference to you when these German reinforcements arrive, will it?”
Dunbar turned crimson with embarrassment and replied in a voice that was suddenly defensive. “Why can’t we create the roadblock somewhere else? Couldn’t we bomb the slope of a mountain or the road itself?”
“Would you rather go back to Bologna?” The question, asked quietly, rang out like a shot and created a silence in the room that was awkward and menacing. Yossarian prayed intensely, with shame, that Dunbar would keep his mouth shut. Dunbar dropped his gaze, and Colonel Korn knew he had won. “No, I thought not,” he continued with undisguised scorn. “You know, Colonel Cathcart and I have to go to a lot of trouble to get you a milk run like this. If you’d sooner fly missions to Bologna, Spezia and Ferrara, we can get those targets with no trouble at all.” His eyes gleamed dangerously behind his rimless glasses, and his muddy jowls were square and hard. “Just let me know.”
“I would,” responded Havermeyer eagerly with another boastful snicker. “I like to fly into Bologna straight and level with my head in the bombsight and listen to all that flak pumping away all around me. I get a big kick out of the way the men come charging over to me after the mission and call me dirty names. Even the enlisted men get sore enough to curse me and want to take socks at me.”
Colonel Korn chucked Havermeyer under the chin jovially, ignoring him, and then addressed himself to Dunbar and Yossarian in a dry monotone. “You’ve got my sacred word for it. Nobody is more distressed about those lousy wops up in the hills than Colonel Cathcart and myself. Mais c’est la guerre. Try to remember that we didn’t start the war and Italy did. That we weren’t the aggressors and Italy was. And that we couldn’t possibly inflict as much cruelty on the Italians, Germans, Russians and Chinese as they’re already inflicting on themselves.” Colonel Korn gave Major Danby’s shoulder a friendly squeeze without changing his unfriendly expression. “Carry on with the briefing, Danby. And make sure they understand the importance of a tight bomb pattern.”
“Oh, no, Colonel,” Major Danby blurted out, blinking upward. “Not for this target. I’ve told them to space their bombs sixty feet apart so that we’ll have a roadblock the full length of the village instead of in just one spot. It will be a much more effective roadblock with a loose bomb pattern.”