Уловка 22

General Dreedle

           Helickedhisparched,thirstinglipswithastickytongueandmoanedinmiseryagain,loudlyenoughthistimetoattractthestartled,searchingglancesofthemensittingaroundhimontherowsofcrudewoodenbenchesintheirchocolate-coloredcoverallsandstitchedwhiteparachuteharnesses.

           Natelyturnedtohimquicklywithalarm."Whatisit?"hewhispered."What’sthematter?"Yossariandidnothearhim.Hewassickwithlustandmesmerizedwithregret.GeneralDreedle’snursewasonlyalittlechubby,andhissenseswerestuffedtocongestionwiththeyellowradianceofherhairandtheunfeltpressureofhersoftshortfingers,withtherounded,untastedwealthofhernubilebreastsinherArmy-pinkshirtthatwasopenedwideatthethroatandwiththerolling,ripened,triangularconfluencesofherbellyandthighsinhertight,slickforest-greengabardineofficer’spants.Hedrankherininsatiablyfromheadtopaintedtoenail.Heneverwantedtoloseher."Oooooooooooooh,"hemoanedagain,andthistimethewholeroomrippledathisquavering,drawn-outcry.Awaveofstartleduneasinessbrokeovertheofficersonthedais,andevenMajorDanby,whohadbegunsynchronizingthewatches,wasdistractedmomentarilyashecountedoutthesecondsandalmosthadtobeginagain.NatelyfollowedYossarian’stransfixedgazedownthelongframeauditoriumuntilhecametoGeneralDreedle’snurse.HeblanchedwithtrepidationwhenheguessedwhatwastroublingYossarian.

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