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- Джозеф Хеллер
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- Уловка 22
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- Стр. 210/452
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"
Yes
,
sir
.
I
’
m
afraid
it
is
.
"
The
colonel
thought
about
it
in
heavy
silence
for
a
few
moments
.
"
Tell
him
to
trust
in
God
,
"
he
advised
finally
.
"
Thank
you
,
sir
,
"
said
the
chaplain
.
"
I
will
.
’
The
late
-
August
morning
sun
was
hot
and
steamy
,
and
there
was
no
breeze
on
the
balcony
.
The
chaplain
moved
slowly
.
He
was
downcast
and
burdened
with
self
-
reproach
when
he
stepped
without
noise
from
the
colonel
’
s
office
on
his
rubber
-
soled
and
rubber
-
heeled
brown
shoes
.
He
hated
himself
for
what
he
construed
to
be
his
own
cowardice
.
He
had
intended
to
take
a
much
stronger
stand
with
Colonel
Cathcart
on
the
matter
of
the
sixty
missions
,
to
speak
out
with
courage
,
logic
and
eloquence
on
a
subject
about
which
he
had
begun
to
feel
very
deeply
.
Instead
he
had
failed
miserably
,
had
choked
up
once
again
in
the
face
of
opposition
from
a
stronger
personality
.
It
was
a
familiar
,
ignominious
experience
,
and
his
opinion
of
himself
was
low
.
He
choked
up
even
more
a
second
later
when
he
spied
Colonel
Korn
’
s
tubby
monochrome
figure
trotting
up
the
curved
,
wide
,
yellow
stone
staircase
toward
him
in
lackadaisical
haste
from
the
great
dilapidated
lobby
below
with
its
lofty
walls
of
cracked
dark
marble
and
circular
floor
of
cracked
grimy
tile
.
The
chaplain
was
even
more
frightened
of
Colonel
Korn
than
he
was
of
Colonel
Cathcart
.
The
swarthy
,
middle
-
aged
lieutenant
colonel
with
the
rimless
,
icy
glasses
and
faceted
,
bald
,
domelike
pate
that
he
was
always
touching
sensitively
with
the
tips
of
his
splayed
fingers
disliked
the
chaplain
and
was
impolite
to
him
frequently
.
He
kept
the
chaplain
in
a
constant
state
of
terror
with
his
curt
,
derisive
tongue
and
his
knowing
,
cynical
eyes
that
the
chaplain
was
never
brave
enough
to
meet
for
more
than
an
accidental
second
.
Inevitably
,
the
chaplain
’
s
attention
,
as
he
cowered
meekly
before
him
,
focused
on
Colonel
Korn
’
s
midriff
,
where
the
shirttails
bunching
up
from
inside
his
sagging
belt
and
ballooning
down
over
his
waist
gave
him
an
appearance
of
slovenly
girth
and
made
him
seem
inches
shorter
than
his
middle
height
.
Colonel
Korn
was
an
untidy
disdainful
man
with
an
oily
skin
and
deep
,
hard
lines
running
almost
straight
down
from
his
nose
between
his
crepuscular
jowls
and
his
square
,
clefted
chin
.
His
face
was
dour
,
and
he
glanced
at
the
chaplain
without
recognition
as
the
two
drew
close
on
the
staircase
and
prepared
to
pass
.
"
Hiya
,
Father
,
"
he
said
tonelessly
without
looking
at
the
chaplain
.
"
How
’
s
it
going
?
"
"
Good
morning
,
sir
,
"
the
chaplain
replied
,
discerning
wisely
that
Colonel
Korn
expected
nothing
more
in
the
way
of
a
response
.
Colonel
Korn
was
proceeding
up
the
stairs
without
slackening
his
pace
,
and
the
chaplain
resisted
the
temptation
to
remind
him
again
that
he
was
not
a
Catholic
but
an
Anabaptist
,
and
that
it
was
therefore
neither
necessary
nor
correct
to
address
him
as
Father
.
He
was
almost
certain
now
that
Colonel
Korn
remembered
and
that
calling
him
Father
with
a
look
of
such
bland
innocence
was
just
another
one
of
Colonel
Korn
’
s
methods
of
taunting
him
because
he
was
only
an
Anabaptist
.
Colonel
Korn
halted
without
warning
when
he
was
almost
by
and
came
whirling
back
down
upon
the
chaplain
with
a
glare
of
infuriated
suspicion
.
The
chaplain
was
petrified
.
"
What
are
you
doing
with
that
plum
tomato
,
Chaplain
?
"
Colonel
Korn
demanded
roughly
.
