Chapter 16 14. Kidd Sampson

When it was time to fly to Bologna to carry out the mission, Yossarian didn't even have the courage to circle the target once.When at last he found himself in the air on the nose of Kid Sampson's plane, he pressed the button on the throat microphone and asked: "Hello? What's the matter with the plane?" Kid Sampson screamed. "Is there something wrong with the plane? What's the matter?" Kid Sampson's scream sent Yossarian cold with fright. "Is something wrong?" he cried in horror. "Are we going to skydive?" "I don't know!" Kid Sampson replied in agony, sobbing with emotion. "Somebody said we were going to skydive! Who, who?"

"It's me, Yossarian, in the nose! Yossarian in the nose! I heard you say something happened. Didn't you?" "I thought it was you. Everything seems to be all right now. Everything is normal." Yossarian's heart sank.If everything was going well, they would have no excuse to go back, then things would be even worse.His face was gloomy, and he hesitated for a moment. "I can't hear what you're saying," he said. "I mean everything is fine." The sun shone blindingly white on the porcelain-blue water below and the shimmering edges of the other planes.Yossarian grabbed the colored wires that connected to the intercom switch box and pulled them loose.

"I still can't hear what you're saying," he said. He heard nothing.He slowly packed up his picture bag and three body armors, and climbed back to the main cabin.Nately, sitting in the co-pilot's seat, caught a glimpse out of the corner of his eye as he walked into the cockpit behind Kid Sampson.Nately, clad in a hefty mass of stuff—earphones, cap, throat microphone, body armor, and parachute—looks frail, but remarkably youthful and shy.He smiled languidly at Yossarian.Yossarian bent close to Kid Sampson's ear. "I still can't hear you," he yelled over the regular hum of the engine.

Kid Sampson glanced back at him in surprise.Kid Sampson had a thin, funny face, with arched eyebrows and a sparse blond mustache. "What?" he called over his shoulder. "I still can't hear you," Yossarian repeated. "You gotta talk a little louder," Kid Sampson said, "I still can't hear you." "I mean I still can't hear you!" Yossarian yelled. "I can't help it," Kid Sampson shouted at him, "I can only shout so loud." "I can't hear you on the intercom," Yossarian growled, growing resigned. "You have to go back."

"Just because of a walkie-talkie?" Kid Sampson asked skeptically. "Go back," Yossarian said, "before I blow your head off." Kid Sampson looked at Nately for moral support, but Nately simply looked away.Yossarian was higher in rank than either of them.Kid Sampson resisted for a moment more hesitantly, then with a triumphant cry, submitted again impatiently. "That's fine with me, too," he said excitedly, puffing up his mustache and letting out a series of high-pitched whistles. "Yeah, sir, that's fine with old Kidd Sampson, too." He whistled again and called into the intercom, "Listen, my tits. This is the Navy Admiral Kidder Sampson is speaking. This is the proud Admiral Kidder Sampson of the Royal Navy shouting. Yes, sir. We are coming home, my brethren, God we are coming home!"

Nately was so excited that he pulled off his hat and earphones and rocked back and forth happily like a beautiful child in a high chair.Sergeant Knight jumped from the top of the turret, ecstatic, and thumped everyone on the back.Kidd Sampson piloted the plane, drew a beautiful arc, left the formation, and flew straight to the airport.When Yossarian plugged the headset into one of the auxiliary comm switch boxes, the two gunners in the rear of the plane sang "Kukaracha" in unison. When they returned to the airport, they suddenly withered again.An uneasy silence replaced ecstasy.Yossarian got off the plane sullenly and unnaturally, and got into the jeep that had been waiting for them at the airport.On the way back to the station, the car passed through eerie but charming mountains, seas and forests, and no one said a word along the way.The feeling of desolation and loneliness still haunted everyone as they turned off the avenue near the squadron quarters.Yossarian was the last to get out of the car.A moment later, in the ever-disturbing silence that hung over the empty tents like a drug, only Yossarian and a warm breeze moved.The squadron was lifeless, except for Dr. Daneeka, who looked like a shivering turkey vulture, perched sadly by the closed door of the infirmary, and twitched his nose against the sun in a hazy sun. Inhale, but it has no effect—besides, there is no human breath.

Yossarian knew that Doc Daneeka would not go swimming with him.Dr. Daneeka would never swim again; in even an inch or two of water a man could drown from fainting or mild coronary occlusion, be swept out to sea by receding waves, or Easily contract polio or cause meningococcal infection from cold or overexertion. The threat Bologna posed to others made Dr. Daneeka deeply worried about his own safety.It was night, and he heard the noise of thieves. Through the lilac twilight that shrouded the entrance to the war room, Yossarian saw Chief Warrant Officer White Halfoat earnestly stealing whiskey rations, forging the signatures of teetotalers, and drinking He poured rapidly from bottle to bottle, trying to steal as much as he could before Captain Black scurried lazily after remembering the incident to steal the rest.

The jeep started softly again.Kid Sampson, Nately, and the others, in a noiseless movement, dispersed, melting into the cloying yellow silence.The jeep disappeared with a clatter.Yossarian was alone in a heavy primeval solitude in which everything green looked black and everything else soaked in the yellow-green of pus.In the dry and hazy distance, the breeze blows, rustling the leaves.Yossarian was restless, frightened and tired, his eye sockets looking dirty with weariness.Exhausted, he stepped into the parachute tent, where a long, sleek wooden table stood.Doubt is painless at the moment, like an annoying bitch digging at a perfectly good conscience.He left the body armor and parachute behind, and then turned back, passed the water tanker, and went to the intelligence room to return the picture pouch to Captain Black.Captain Black was dozing in a chair with his long thin legs crossed on the table, pretending to be indifferent on the surface, but in his heart he was curiously asking why Yossarian's plane had returned.Yossarian ignored him, put the picture bag on the table, and walked out.

Back in his tent, he took off his parachute harness and his clothes.Auer was in Rome and was due to return that afternoon because he had had the opportunity to take a vacation after he had ditched in the sea not far from Genoa.Nately had long wanted to pack his bags and prepare to succeed Orr.He was so delighted that he was still alive that he was impatient to get to Rome and continue his fruitless and heartrending courtship to the whore.Yossarian stripped naked and sat down on the cot to rest.Once naked, he felt better.As long as he was wearing clothes, he never felt comfortable.After a while, he put on clean shorts, moccasins, and a khaki bath towel over his shoulders, got up and walked to the beach.

Following the road leading out of the squadron quarters, Yossarian skirted a mysterious artillery bunker in the forest.There were three soldiers stationed there, two of them were sleeping on a circle of sandbags, and the third was eating a purple pomegranate, biting it into his chewing mouth in big mouthfuls, and then smashing the crushed pomegranate The scum was spat into the bushes.With every bite, red juice flowed out of his mouth.Yossarian tiptoed forward into the forest, now and then lovingly stroking the quivering bare belly, as if to reassure himself that it was still where it was.He twisted a piece of lint from the navel.Suddenly he found a lot of mushrooms that had just grown after the rain on the ground on both sides of the road. Finger-like stalks with caps drilled out of the sticky soil, like lifeless fleshy stems. , then a large piece grew, as if they were emerging right in front of his eyes.There are large and dense patches of mushrooms everywhere, and as far as he can see, they are all over the undergrowth in the distance.He found that they seemed to be getting bigger and bigger, and their numbers seemed to be increasing.He felt a ghastly fear, trembling all over his body, and ran as fast as he could, until the soil under his feet disappeared and turned into dry sand, leaving the mushrooms behind, and then he slowed down.He glanced back anxiously, somewhat expecting to see those white and soft things blindly crawling after him, or mutating into a wriggling, uncontrollable mass, quietly going up Climb over treetops.

The beach was deserted.The only sounds were all very low: the gurgle of the swollen stream, the soft breathing of the tall grass and shrubs behind me, and the indifferent whimper of the silent, translucent waves.The waves are always small and the water is crystal clear and cool.Yossarian left his belongings on the sand and trudged through knee-deep water until he was completely submerged.On the other side of the sea, a rough and dark strip of land was shrouded in mist, faintly.He lazily swam to the floating platform, held on to rest for a while, then turned back and lazily swam back to the place where the sandbar could stand.Several times he dived headfirst into the turquoise waters until he felt clean and fully awake, then stretched out on the beach and slept until the triumphant planes from Bologna almost passed over his head.The many engines in the fleet made a huge rumbling sound from weak to strong, like an earth-shattering roar, breaking into his dreamland. He woke up, blinked, felt a slight headache, opened his eyes, and saw a chaotic world, but everything was orderly.He stared in amazement at the spectacle in front of him: the planes of the twelve air force squads formed a precise formation smoothly.The sight was so unexpected it was unbelievable.None of the planes rushed forward with the wounded. None of the planes were damaged or left behind.There were no flames of distress emerging from the sky. In addition to his own plane, a lot.In an instant, he felt insane and unable to move.Then he regained consciousness again, almost weeping at the irony of fate. The explanation is very simple: before the fleet had time to bomb, the clouds covered the target, so they had to fly to Bologna to carry out the bombing mission. He was wrong.There were no clouds at all.Bologna had been bombed and the flight to Bologna was just a routine flight.There was no anti-aircraft fire at all.