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- Джозеф Хеллер
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- Уловка 22
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- Стр. 313/452
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"
So
?
"
said
Yossarian
.
"
It
didn
’
t
make
any
difference
then
,
did
it
?
"
"
But
they
’
ve
never
made
you
fly
with
me
.
"
Orr
,
working
on
both
knees
again
,
was
addressing
Yossarian
without
bitterness
or
reproach
,
but
with
injured
humility
,
which
was
infinitely
more
painful
to
observe
,
although
he
was
still
grinning
and
snickering
,
as
though
the
situation
were
comic
.
"
You
really
ought
to
fly
with
me
,
you
know
.
I
’
m
a
pretty
good
pilot
,
and
I
’
d
take
care
of
you
.
I
may
get
knocked
down
a
lot
,
but
that
’
s
not
my
fault
,
and
nobody
’
s
ever
been
hurt
in
my
plane
.
Yes
,
sir
—
if
you
had
any
brains
,
you
know
what
you
’
d
do
?
You
’
d
go
right
to
Piltchard
and
Wren
and
tell
them
you
want
to
fly
all
your
missions
with
me
.
"
Yossarian
leaned
forward
and
peered
closely
into
Orr
’
s
inscrutable
mask
of
contradictory
emotions
.
"
Are
you
trying
to
tell
me
something
?
"
"
Tee
-
hee
-
hee
-
hee
,
"
Orr
responded
.
"
I
’
m
trying
to
tell
you
why
that
big
girl
with
the
shoe
was
hitting
me
on
the
head
that
day
.
But
you
just
won
’
t
let
me
.
"
"
Tell
me
.
"
"
Will
you
fly
with
me
?
"
Yossarian
laughed
and
shook
his
head
.
"
You
’
ll
only
get
knocked
down
into
the
water
again
.
"
Orr
did
get
knocked
down
into
the
water
again
when
the
rumored
mission
to
Bologna
was
flown
,
and
he
landed
his
single
-
engine
plane
with
a
smashing
jar
on
the
choppy
,
windswept
waves
tossing
and
falling
below
the
warlike
black
thunderclouds
mobilizing
overhead
.
He
was
late
getting
out
of
the
plane
and
ended
up
alone
in
a
raft
that
began
drifting
away
from
the
men
in
the
other
raft
and
was
out
of
sight
by
the
time
the
Air
-
Sea
Rescue
launch
came
plowing
up
through
the
wind
and
splattering
raindrops
to
take
them
aboard
.
Night
was
already
falling
by
the
time
they
were
returned
to
the
squadron
.
There
was
no
word
of
Orr
.
"
Don
’
t
worry
,
"
reassured
Kid
Sampson
,
still
wrapped
in
the
heavy
blankets
and
raincoat
in
which
he
had
been
swaddled
on
the
boat
by
his
rescuers
.
"
He
’
s
probably
been
picked
up
already
if
he
didn
’
t
drown
in
that
storm
.
It
didn
’
t
last
long
.
I
bet
he
’
ll
show
up
any
minute
.
"
Yossarian
walked
back
to
his
tent
to
wait
for
Orr
to
show
up
any
minute
and
lit
a
fire
to
make
things
warm
for
him
.
The
stove
worked
perfectly
,
with
a
strong
,
robust
blaze
that
could
be
raised
or
lowered
by
turning
the
tap
Orr
had
finally
finished
repairing
.
A
light
rain
was
falling
,
drumming
softly
on
the
tent
,
the
trees
,
the
ground
.
Yossarian
cooked
a
can
of
hot
soup
to
have
ready
for
Orr
and
ate
it
all
himself
as
the
time
passed
He
hard
-
boiled
some
eggs
for
Orr
and
ate
those
too
.
Then
he
ate
a
whole
tin
of
Cheddar
cheese
from
a
package
of
K
rations
.
Each
time
he
caught
himself
worrying
he
made
himself
remember
that
Orr
could
do
everything
and
broke
into
silent
laughter
at
the
picture
of
Orr
in
the
raft
as
Sergeant
Knight
had
described
him
,
bent
forward
with
a
busy
,
preoccupied
smile
over
the
map
and
compass
in
his
lap
,
stuffing
one
soaking
-
wet
chocolate
bar
after
another
into
his
grinning
,
tittering
mouth
as
he
paddled
away
dutifully
through
the
lightning
,
thunder
and
rain
with
the
bright
-
blue
useless
toy
oar
,
the
fishing
line
with
dried
bait
trailing
out
behind
him
.
Yossarian
really
had
no
doubt
about
Orr
’
s
ability
to
survive
.
If
fish
could
be
caught
with
that
silly
fishing
line
,
Orr
would
catch
them
,
and
if
it
was
codfish
he
was
after
,
then
Orr
would
catch
a
codfish
,
even
though
no
codfish
had
ever
been
caught
in
those
waters
before
.
Yossarian
put
another
can
of
soup
up
to
cook
and
ate
that
too
when
it
was
hot
.
Every
time
a
car
door
slammed
,
he
broke
into
a
hopeful
smile
and
turned
expectantly
toward
the
entrance
,
listening
for
footsteps
.
He
knew
that
any
moment
Orr
would
come
walking
into
the
tent
with
big
,
glistening
,
rain
-
soaked
eyes
,
cheeks
and
buck
teeth
,
looking
ludicrously
like
a
jolly
New
England
oysterman
in
a
yellow
oilskin
rain
hat
and
slicker
numerous
sizes
too
large
for
him
and
holding
up
proudly
for
Yossarian
’
s
amusement
a
great
dead
codfish
he
had
caught
.
But
he
didn
’
t
.
There
was
no
word
about
Orr
the
next
day
,
and
Sergeant
Whitcomb
,
with
commendable
dispatch
and
considerable
hope
,
dropped
a
reminder
in
his
tickler
file
to
send
a
form
letter
over
Colonel
Cathcart
’
s
signature
to
Orr
’
s
next
of
kin
when
nine
more
days
had
elapsed
.
There
was
word
from
General
Peckem
’
s
headquarters
,
though
,
and
Yossarian
was
drawn
to
the
crowd
of
officers
and
enlisted
men
in
shorts
and
bathing
trunks
buzzing
in
grumpy
confusion
around
the
bulletin
board
just
outside
the
orderly
room
.
