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- Джозеф Хеллер
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- Уловка 22
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- Стр. 268/452
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"
All
right
,
"
Corporal
Whitcomb
snapped
.
"
Don
’
t
take
me
into
your
confidence
.
But
just
wait
and
see
what
happens
to
my
morale
.
"
He
bit
into
the
chaplain
’
s
candy
bar
hungrily
and
continued
with
a
full
mouth
.
"
You
had
a
visitor
while
you
were
gone
.
Major
Major
.
"
The
chaplain
spun
around
with
surprise
and
cried
:
"
Major
Major
?
Major
Major
was
here
?
"
"
That
’
s
who
we
’
re
talking
about
,
isn
’
t
it
?
"
"
Where
did
he
go
?
"
"
He
jumped
down
into
that
railroad
ditch
and
took
off
like
a
frightened
rabbit
.
"
Corporal
Whitcomb
snickered
.
"
What
a
jerk
!
"
"
Did
he
say
what
he
wanted
?
"
"
He
said
he
needed
your
help
in
a
matter
of
great
importance
.
"
The
chaplain
was
astounded
.
"
Major
Major
said
that
?
"
"
He
didn
’
t
say
that
,
"
Corporal
Whitcomb
corrected
with
withering
precision
.
"
He
wrote
it
down
in
a
sealed
personal
letter
he
left
on
your
desk
.
"
The
chaplain
glanced
at
the
bridge
table
that
served
as
his
desk
and
saw
only
the
abominable
orange
-
red
pear
-
shaped
plum
tomato
he
had
obtained
that
same
morning
from
Colonel
Cathcart
,
still
lying
on
its
side
where
he
had
forgotten
it
like
an
indestructible
and
incamadine
symbol
of
his
own
ineptitude
.
"
Where
is
the
letter
?
"
"
I
threw
it
away
as
soon
as
I
tore
it
open
and
read
it
.
"
Corporal
Whitcomb
slammed
the
Bible
shut
and
jumped
up
.
"
What
’
s
the
matter
?
Won
’
t
you
take
my
word
for
it
?
"
He
walked
out
.
He
walked
right
back
in
and
almost
collided
with
the
chaplain
,
who
was
rushing
out
behind
him
on
his
way
back
to
Major
Major
.
"
You
don
’
t
know
how
to
delegate
responsibility
,
"
Corporal
Whitcomb
informed
him
sullenly
.
"
That
’
s
another
one
of
the
things
that
’
s
wrong
with
you
.
"
The
chaplain
nodded
penitently
and
hurried
past
,
unable
to
make
himself
take
the
time
to
apologize
.
He
could
feel
the
skillful
hand
of
fate
motivating
him
imperatively
.
Twice
that
day
already
,
he
realized
now
,
Major
Major
had
come
racing
toward
him
inside
the
ditch
;
and
twice
that
day
the
chaplain
had
stupidly
postponed
the
destined
meeting
by
bolting
into
the
forest
.
He
seethed
with
self
-
recrimination
as
he
hastened
back
as
rapidly
as
he
could
stride
along
the
splintered
,
irregularly
spaced
railroad
ties
.
Bits
of
grit
and
gravel
inside
his
shoes
and
socks
were
grinding
the
tops
of
his
toes
raw
.
His
pale
,
laboring
face
was
screwed
up
unconsciously
into
a
grimace
of
acute
discomfort
.
The
early
August
afternoon
was
growing
hotter
and
more
humid
.
It
was
almost
a
mile
from
his
tent
to
Yossarian
’
s
squadron
.
The
chaplain
’
s
summer
-
tan
shirt
was
soaking
with
perspiration
by
the
time
he
arrived
there
and
rushed
breathlessly
back
inside
the
orderly
room
tent
,
where
he
was
halted
peremptorily
by
the
same
treacherous
,
soft
-
spoken
staff
sergeant
with
round
eyeglasses
and
gaunt
cheeks
,
who
requested
him
to
remain
outside
because
Major
Major
was
inside
and
told
him
he
would
not
be
allowed
inside
until
Major
Major
went
out
.
The
chaplain
looked
at
him
in
an
uncomprehending
daze
.
Why
did
the
sergeant
hate
him
?
he
wondered
.
His
lips
were
white
and
trembling
.
He
was
aching
with
thirst
.
What
was
the
matter
with
people
?
Wasn
’
t
there
tragedy
enough
?
The
sergeant
put
his
hand
out
and
held
the
chaplain
steady
.
