The Cellar

           Nately’sdeathalmostkilledthechaplain.ChaplainShipmanwasseatedinhistent,laboringoverhispaperworkinhisreadingspectacles,whenhisphonerangandnewsofthemid-aircollisionwasgiventohimfromthefield.Hisinsidesturnedatoncetodryclay.Hishandwastremblingasheputthephonedown.Hisotherhandbegantrembling.Thedisasterwastooimmensetocontemplate.Twelvemenkilledhowghastly,howvery,veryawful!Hisfeelingofterrorgrew.HeprayedinstinctivelythatYossarian,Nately,HungryJoeandhisotherfriendswouldnotbelistedamongthevictims,thenberatedhimselfrepentantly,fortoprayfortheirsafetywastoprayforthedeathofotheryoungmenhedidnotevenknow.Itwastoolatetopray;yetthatwasallheknewhowtodo.Hisheartwaspoundingwithanoisethatseemedtobecomingfromsomewhereoutside,andheknewhewouldneversitinadentist’schairagain,neverglanceatasurgicaltool,neverwitnessanautomobileaccidentorhearavoiceshoutatnight,withoutexperiencingthesameviolentthumpinginhischestanddreadingthathewasgoingtodie.Hewouldneverwatchanotherfistfightwithoutfearinghewasgoingtofaintandcrackhisskullopenonthepavementorsufferafatalheartattackorcerebralhemorrhage.Hewonderedifhewouldeverseehiswifeagainorhisthreesmallchildren.Hewonderedifheevershouldseehiswifeagain,nowthatCaptainBlackhadplantedinhismindsuchstrongdoubtsaboutthefidelityandcharacterofallwomen.

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