Уловка 22

The Cellar

           Andlookingverysuperior,hetosseddownonthetableaphotostaticcopyofapieceofVmailinwhicheverythingbutthesalutation"DearMary"hadbeenblockedoutandonwhichthecensoringofficerhadwritten,"Ilongforyoutragically.R.O.Shipman,Chaplain,U.S.Army."Thecolonelsmiledscornfullyashewatchedthechaplain’sfaceturncrimson."Well,Chaplain?Doyouknowwhowrotethat?"Thechaplaintookalongmomenttoreply;hehadrecognizedYossarian’shandwriting."No."

           "Youcanread,though,can’tyou?"thecolonelperseveredsarcastically."Theauthorsignedhisname."

           "That’smynamethere."

           "Thenyouwroteit.Q.E.D."

           "ButIdidn’twriteit.Thatisn’tmyhandwriting,either."

           "Thenyousignedyournameinsomebodyelse’shandwritingagain,"thecolonelretortedwithashrug."That’sallthatmeans."

           "Oh,thisisridiculous!"thechaplainshouted,suddenlylosingallpatience.Hejumpedtohisfeetinablazingfury,bothfistsclenched."I’mnotgoingtostandforthisanylonger!Doyouhear?Twelvemenwerejustkilled,andIhavenotimeforthesesillyquestions.You’venorighttokeepmehere,andI’mjustnotgoingtostandforit."Withoutsayingaword,thecolonelpushedthechaplain’schesthardandknockedhimbackdownintothechair,andthechaplainwassuddenlyweakandverymuchafraidagain.Themajorpickedupthelengthofrubberhoseandbegantappingitmenacinglyagainsthisopenpalm.

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