Major Major Major Major had had a difficult time from the start.
Like Minniver Cheevy, he had been born too late—exactly thirty-six hours too late for the physical well-being1 ofhis mother, a gentle, ailing2 woman who, after a full day and a half’s agony in the rigors3 of childbirth, wasdepleted of all resolve to pursue further the argument over the new child’s name. In the hospital corridor, herhusband moved ahead with the unsmiling determination of someone who knew what he was about. MajorMajor’s father was a towering, gaunt man in heavy shoes and a black woolen4 suit. He filled out the birthcertificate without faltering5, betraying no emotion at all as he handed the completed form to the floor nurse. Thenurse took it from him without comment and padded out of sight. He watched her go, wondering what she hadon underneath6.
Back in the ward7, he found his wife lying vanquished8 beneath the blankets like a desiccated old vegetable,wrinkled, dry and white, her enfeebled tissues absolutely still. Her bed was at the very end of the ward, near acracked window thickened with grime. Rain splashed from a moiling sky and the day was dreary9 and cold. Inother parts of the hospital chalky people with aged10, blue lips were dying on time. The man stood erect11 beside thebed and gazed down at the woman a long time.
“I have named the boy Caleb,” he announced to her finally in a soft voice. “In accordance with your wishes.”
The woman made no answer, and slowly the man smiled. He had planned it all perfectly12, for his wife was asleepand would never know that he had lied to her as she lay on her sickbed in the poor ward of the county hospital.
From this meager13 beginning had sprung the ineffectual squadron commander who was now spending the betterpart of each working day in Pianosa forging Washington Irving’s name to official documents. Major Majorforged diligently14 with his left hand to elude15 identification, insulated against intrusion by his own undesiredauthority and camouflaged16 in his false mustache and dark glasses as an additional safeguard against detection byanyone chancing to peer in through the dowdy18 celluloid window from which some thief had carved out a slice. Inbetween these two low points of his birth and his success lay thirty-one dismal19 years of loneliness andfrustration.
Major Major had been born too late and too mediocre20. Some men are born mediocre, some men achievemediocrity, and some men have mediocrity thrust upon them. With Major Major it had been all three. Evenamong men lacking all distinction he inevitably21 stood out as a man lacking more distinction than all the rest, andpeople who met him were always impressed by how unimpressive he was.
Major Major had three strikes on him from the beginning—his mother, his father and Henry Fonda, to whom hebore a sickly resemblance almost from the moment of his birth. Long before he even suspected who HenryFonda was, he found himself the subject of unflattering comparisons everywhere he went. Total strangers saw fitto deprecate him, with the result that he was stricken early with a guilty fear of people and an obsequiousimpulse to apologize to society for the fact that he was not Henry Fonda. It was not an easy task for him to gothrough life looking something like Henry Fonda, but he never once thought of quitting, having inherited hisperseverance from his father, a lanky22 man with a good sense of humor.
Major Major’s father was a sober God-fearing man whose idea of a good joke was to lie about his age. He was along-limbed farmer, a God-fearing, freedom-loving, law-abiding rugged23 individualist who held that federal aid toanyone but farmers was creeping socialism. He advocated thrift24 and hard work and disapproved25 of loose womenwho turned him down. His specialty26 was alfalfa, and he made a good thing out of not growing any. Thegovernment paid him well for every bushel of alfalfa he did not grow. The more alfalfa he did not grow, themore money the government gave him, and he spent every penny he didn’t earn on new land to increase theamount of alfalfa he did not produce. Major Major’s father worked without rest at not growing alfalfa. On longwinter evenings he remained indoors and did not mend harness, and he sprang out of bed at the crack of noonevery day just to make certain that the chores would not be done. He invested in land wisely and soon was notgrowing more alfalfa than any other man in the county. Neighbors sought him out for advice on all subjects, forhe had made much money and was therefore wise. “As ye sow, so shall ye reap,” he counseled one and all, andeveryone said, “Amen.”
Major Major’s father was an outspoken27 champion of economy in government, provided it did not interfere28 withthe sacred duty of government to pay farmers as much as they could get for all the alfalfa they produced that noone else wanted or for not producing any alfalfa at all. He was a proud and independent man who was opposed tounemployment insurance and never hesitated to whine29, whimper, wheedle30, and extort31 for as much as he could get from whomever he could. He was a devout32 man whose pulpit was everywhere.
“The Lord gave us good farmers two strong hands so that we could take as much as we could grab with both ofthem,” he preached with ardor33 on the courthouse steps or in front of the A&P as he waited for the bad-temperedgum-chewing young cashier he was after to step outside and give him a nasty look. “If the Lord didn’t want us totake as much as we could get,” he preached, “He wouldn’t have given us two good hands to take it with.” Andthe others murmured, “Amen.”
Major Major’s father had a Calvinist’s faith in predestination and could perceive distinctly how everyone’smisfortunes but his own were expressions of God’s will. He smoked cigarettes and drank whiskey, and hethrived on good wit and stimulating35 intellectual conversation, particularly his own when he was lying about hisage or telling that good one about God and his wife’s difficulties in delivering Major Major. The good one aboutGod and his wife’s difficulties had to do with the fact that it had taken God only six days to produce the wholeworld, whereas his wife had spent a full day and a half in labor36 just to produce Major Major. A lesser37 man mighthave wavered that day in the hospital corridor, a weaker man might have compromised on such excellentsubstitutes as Drum Major, Minor38 Major, Sergeant39 Major, or C. Sharp Major, but Major Major’s father hadwaited fourteen years for just such an opportunity, and he was not a person to waste it. Major Major’s father hada good joke about opportunity. “Opportunity only knocks once in this world,” he would say. Major Major’sfather repeated this good joke at every opportunity.
Being born with a sickly resemblance to Henry Fonda was the first of along series of practical jokes of whichdestiny was to make Major Major the unhappy victim throughout his joyless life. Being born Major Major Majorwas the second. The fact that he had been born Major Major Major was a secret known only to his father. Notuntil Major Major was enrolling40 in kindergarten was the discovery of his real name made, and then the effectswere disastrous41. The news killed his mother, who just lost her will to live and wasted away and died, which wasjust fine with his father, who had decided42 to marry the bad-tempered34 girl at the A&P if he had to and who hadnot been optimistic about his chances of getting his wife off the land without paying her some money or floggingher.
On Major Major himself the consequences were only slightly less severe. It was a harsh and stunning43 realizationthat was forced upon him at so tender an age, the realization44 that he was not, as he had always been led tobelieve, Caleb Major, but instead was some total stranger named Major Major Major about whom he knewabsolutely nothing and about whom nobody else had ever heard before. What playmates he had withdrew fromhim and never returned, disposed, as they were, to distrust all strangers, especially one who had already deceivedthem by pretending to be someone they had known for years. Nobody would have anything to do with him. Hebegan to drop things and to trip. He had a shy and hopeful manner in each new contact, and he was alwaysdisappointed. Because he needed a friend so desperately46, he never found one. He grew awkwardly into a tall,strange, dreamy boy with fragile eyes and a very delicate mouth whose tentative, groping smile collapsedinstantly into hurt disorder47 at every fresh rebuff.
He was polite to his elders, who disliked him. Whatever his elders told him to do, he did. They told him to lookbefore he leaped, and he always looked before he leaped. They told him never to put off until the next day whathe could do the day before, and he never did. He was told to honor his father and his mother, and he honored his father and his mother. He was told that he should not kill, and he did not kill, until he got into the Army. Then hewas told to kill, and he killed. He turned the other cheek on every occasion and always did unto others exactly ashe would have had others do unto him. When he gave to charity, his left hand never knew what his right handwas doing. He never once took the name of the Lord his God in vain, committed adultery or coveted48 hisneighbor’s ass17. In fact, he loved his neighbor and never even bore false witness against him. Major Major’selders disliked him because he was such a flagrant nonconformist.
Since he had nothing better to do well in, he did well in school. At the state university he took his studies soseriously that he was suspected by the homosexuals of being a Communist and suspected by the Communists ofbeing a homosexual. He majored in English history, which was a mistake.
“English history!” roared the silver-maned senior Senator from his state indignantly. “What’s the matter withAmerican history? American history is as good as any history in the world!”
Major Major switched immediately to American literature, but not before the F.B.I. had opened a file on him.
There were six people and a Scotch49 terrier inhabiting the remote farmhouse50 Major Major called home, and fiveof them and the Scotch terrier turned out to be agents for the F.B.I. Soon they had enough derogatoryinformation on Major Major to do whatever they wanted to with him. The only thing they could find to do withhim, however, was take him into the Army as a private and make him a major four days later so thatCongressmen with nothing else on their minds could go trotting51 back and forth52 through the streets ofWashington, D.C., chanting, “Who promoted Major Major? Who promoted Major Major?”
Actually, Major Major had been promoted by an I.B.M. machine with a sense of humor almost as keen as hisfather’s. When war broke out, he was still docile53 and compliant54. They told him to enlist55, and he enlisted56. Theytold him to apply for aviation cadet training, and he applied57 for aviation cadet training, and the very next nightfound himself standing58 barefoot in icy mud at three o’clock in the morning before a tough and belligerentsergeant from the Southwest who told them he could beat hell out of any man in his outfit60 and was ready toprove it. The recruits in his squadron had all been shaken roughly awake only minutes before by the sergeant’scorporals and told to assemble in front of the administration tent. It was still raining on Major Major. They fellinto ranks in the civilian61 clothes they had brought into the Army with them three days before. Those who hadlingered to put shoes and socks on were sent back to their cold, wet, dark tents to remove them, and they were allbarefoot in the mud as the sergeant ran his stony62 eyes over their faces and told them he could beat hell out of anyman in his outfit. No one was inclined to dispute him.
Major Major’s unexpected promotion63 to major the next day plunged64 the belligerent59 sergeant into a bottomlessgloom, for he was no longer able to boast that he could beat hell out of any man in his outfit. He brooded forhours in his tent like Saul, receiving no visitors, while his elite65 guard of corporals stood discouraged watchoutside. At three o’clock in the morning he found his solution, and Major Major and the other recruits were againshaken roughly awake and ordered to assemble barefoot in the drizzly66 glare at the administration tent, where thesergeant was already waiting, his fists clenched67 on his hips68 cockily, so eager to speak that he could hardly waitfor them to arrive.
“Me and Major Major,” he boasted, in the same tough, clipped tones of the night before, “can beat hell out of any man in my outfit.”
The officers on the base took action on the Major Major problem later that same day. How could they cope witha major like Major Major? To demean him personally would be to demean all other officers of equal or lesserrank. To treat him with courtesy, on the other hand, was unthinkable. Fortunately, Major Major had applied foraviation cadet training. Orders transferring him away were sent to the mimeograph room late in the afternoon,and at three o’clock in the morning Major Major was again shaken roughly awake, bidden Godspeed by thesergeant and placed aboard a plane heading west.
Lieutenant69 Scheisskopf turned white as a sheet when Major Major reported to him in California with bare feetand mudcaked toes. Major Major had taken it for granted that he was being shaken roughly awake again to standbarefoot in the mud and had left his shoes and socks in the tent. The civilian clothing in which he reported forduty to Lieutenant Scheisskopf was rumpled70 and dirty. Lieutenant Scheisskopf, who had not yet made hisreputation as a parader, shuddered71 violently at the picture Major Major would make marching barefoot in hissquadron that coming Sunday.
“Go to the hospital quickly,” he mumbled72, when he had recovered sufficiently73 to speak, “and tell them you’resick. Stay there until your allowance for uniforms catches up with you and you have some money to buy someclothes. And some shoes. Buy some shoes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t think you have to call me ‘sir,’ sir,” Lieutenant Scheisskopf pointed45 out. “You outrank me.”
“Yes, sir. I may outrank you, sir, but you’re still my commanding officer.”
“Yes, sir, that’s right,” Lieutenant Scheisskopf agreed. “You may outrank me, sir, but I’m still your commandingofficer. So you better do what I tell you, sir, or you’ll get into trouble. Go to the hospital and tell them you’resick, sir. Stay there until your uniform allowance catches up with you and you have some money to buy someuniforms.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And some shoes, sir. Buy some shoes the first chance you get, sir.”
“Yes, sir. I will, sir.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Life in cadet school for Major Major was no different than life had been for him all along. Whoever he was withalways wanted him to be with someone else. His instructors74 gave him preferred treatment at every stage in orderto push him along quickly and be rid of him. In almost no time he had his pilot’s wings and found himselfoverseas, where things began suddenly to improve. All his life, Major Major had longed for but one thing, to be absorbed, and in Pianosa, for a while, he finally was. Rank meant little to the men on combat duty, and relationsbetween officers and enlisted men were relaxed and informal. Men whose names he didn’t even know said “Hi”
and invited him to go swimming or play basketball. His ripest hours were spent in the day-long basketball gamesno one gave a damn about winning. Score was never kept, and the number of players might vary from one tothirty-five. Major Major had never played basketball or any other game before, but his great, bobbing height andrapturous enthusiasm helped make up for his innate75 clumsiness and lack of experience. Major Major found truehappiness there on the lopsided basketball court with the officers and enlisted men who were almost his friends.
If there were no winners, there were no losers, and Major Major enjoyed every gamboling moment right up tillthe day Colonel Cathcart roared up in his jeep after Major Duluth was killed and made it impossible for him everto enjoy playing basketball there again.
“You’re the new squadron commander,” Colonel Cathcart had shouted rudely across the railroad ditch to him.
“But don’t think it means anything, because it doesn’t. All it means is that you’re the new squadroncommander.”
Colonel Cathcart had nursed an implacable grudge76 against Major Major for a long time. A superfluous77 major onhis rolls meant an untidy table of organization and gave ammunition78 to the men at Twenty-seventh Air ForceHeadquarters who Colonel Cathcart was positive were his enemies and rivals. Colonel Cathcart had been prayingfor just some stroke of good luck like Major Duluth’s death. He had been plagued by one extra major; he nowhad an opening for one major. He appointed Major Major squadron commander and roared away in his jeep asabruptly as he had come.
For Major Major, it meant the end of the game. His face flushed with discomfort79, and he was rooted to the spotin disbelief as the rain clouds gathered above him again. When he turned to his teammates, he encountered a reefof curious, reflective faces all gazing at him woodenly with morose80 and inscrutable animosity. He shivered withshame. When the game resumed, it was not good any longer. When he dribbled81, no one tried to stop him; whenhe called for a pass, whoever had the ball passed it; and when he missed a basket, no one raced him for therebound. The only voice was his own. The next day was the same, and the day after that he did not come back.
Almost on cue, everyone in the squadron stopped talking to him and started staring at him. He walked throughlife selfconsciously with downcast eyes and burning cheeks, the object of contempt, envy, suspicion, resentmentand malicious82 innuendo83 everywhere he went. People who had hardly noticed his resemblance to Henry Fondabefore now never ceased discussing it, and there were even those who hinted sinisterly84 that Major Major hadbeen elevated to squadron commander because he resembled Henry Fonda. Captain Black, who had aspired85 tothe position himself, maintained that Major Major really was Henry Fonda but was too chickenshit to admit it.
Major Major floundered bewilderedly from one embarrassing catastrophe86 to another. Without consulting him,Sergeant Towser had his belongings87 moved into the roomy trailer Major Duluth had occupied alone, and whenMajor Major came rushing breathlessly into the orderly room to report the theft of his things, the young corporalthere scared him half out of his wits by leaping to his feet and shouting “Attention!” the moment he appeared.
Major Major snapped to attention with all the rest in the orderly room, wondering what important personage hadentered behind him. Minutes passed in rigid88 silence, and the whole lot of them might have stood there atattention till doomsday if Major Danby had not dropped by from Group to congratulate Major Major twenty minutes later and put them all at ease.
Major Major fared even more lamentably89 at the mess hall, where Milo, his face fluttery with smiles, was waitingto usher90 him proudly to a small table he had set up in front and decorated with an embroidered91 tablecloth92 and anosegay of posies in a pink cut-glass vase. Major Major hung back with horror, but he was not bold enough toresist with all the others watching. Even Havermeyer had lifted his head from his plate to gape93 at him with hisheavy, pendulous94 jaw95. Major Major submitted meekly96 to Milo’s tugging97 and cowered98 in disgrace at his privatetable throughout the whole meal. The food was ashes in his mouth, but he swallowed every mouthful rather thanrisk offending any of the men connected with its preparation. Alone with Milo later, Major Major felt protest stirfor the first time and said he would prefer to continue eating with the other officers. Milo told him it wouldn’twork.
“I don’t see what there is to work,” Major Major argued. “Nothing ever happened before.”
“You were never the squadron commander before.”
“Major Duluth was the squadron commander and he always ate at the same table with the rest of the men.”
“It was different with Major Duluth, Sir.”
“In what way was it different with Major Duluth?”
“I wish you wouldn’t ask me that, sir,” said Milo.
“Is it because I look like Henry Fonda?” Major Major mustered99 the courage to demand.
“Some people say you are Henry Fonda,” Milo answered.
“Well, I’m not Henry Fonda,” Major Major exclaimed, in a voice quavering with exasperation100. “And I don’t lookthe least bit like him. And even if I do look like Henry Fonda, what difference does that make?”
“It doesn’t make any difference. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, sir. It’s just not the same with you as it waswith Major Duluth.”
And it just wasn’t the same, for when Major Major, at the next meal, stepped from the food counter to sit withthe others at the regular tables, he was frozen in his tracks by the impenetrable wall of antagonism101 thrown up bytheir faces and stood petrified102 with his tray quivering in his hands until Milo glided103 forward wordlessly to rescuehim, by leading him tamely to his private table. Major Major gave up after that and always ate at his table alonewith his back to the others. He was certain they resented him because he seemed too good to eat with them nowthat he was squadron commander. There was never any conversation in the mess tent when Major Major waspresent. He was conscious that other officers tried to avoid eating at the same time, and everyone was greatlyrelieved when he stopped coming there altogether and began taking his meals in his trailer.
Major Major began forging Washington Irving’s name to official documents the day after the first C.I.D. manshowed up to interrogate104 him about somebody at the hospital who had been doing it and gave him the idea. Hehad been bored and dissatisfied in his new position. He had been made squadron commander but had no ideawhat he was supposed to do as squadron commander, unless all he was supposed to do was forge WashingtonIrving’s name to official documents and listen to the isolated105 clinks and thumps106 of Major ---de Coverley’shorseshoes falling to the ground outside the window of his small office in the rear of the orderly-room tent. Hewas hounded incessantly107 by an impression of vital duties left unfulfilled and waited in vain for hisresponsibilities to overtake him. He seldom went out unless it was absolutely necessary, for he could not get usedto being stared at. Occasionally, the monotony was broken by some officer or enlisted man Sergeant Towserreferred to him on some matter that Major Major was unable to cope with and referred right back to SergeantTowser for sensible disposition108. Whatever he was supposed to get done as squadron commander apparently109 wasgetting done without any assistance from him. He grew moody110 and depressed111. At times he thought seriously ofgoing with all his sorrows to see the chaplain, but the chaplain seemed so overburdened with miseries112 of his ownthat Major Major shrank from adding to his troubles. Besides, he was not quite sure if chaplains were forsquadron commanders.
He had never been quite sure about Major ---de Coverley, either, who, when he was not away rentingapartments or kidnaping foreign laborers113, had nothing more pressing to do than pitch horseshoes. Major Majoroften paid strict attention to the horseshoes falling softly against the earth or riding down around the small steelpegs in the ground. He peeked114 out at Major ---de Coverley for hours and marveled that someone so august hadnothing more important to do. He was often tempted115 to join Major ---de Coverley, but pitching horseshoes allday long seemed almost as dull as signing “Major Major Major” to official documents, and Major ---deCoverley’s countenance116 was so forbidding that Major Major was in awe117 of approaching him.
Major Major wondered about his relationship to Major ---de Coverley and about Major ---de Coverley’srelationship to him. He knew that Major ---de Coverley was his executive officer, but he did not know what thatmeant, and he could not decide whether in Major --- de Coverley he was blessed with a lenient118 superior or cursedwith a delinquent119 subordinate. He did not want to ask Sergeant Towser, of whom he was secretly afraid, andthere was no one else he could ask, least of all Major ---de Coverley. Few people ever dared approach Major --deCoverley about anything and the only officer foolish enough to pitch one of his horseshoes was stricken thevery next day with the worst case of Pianosan crud that Gus or Wes or even Doc Daneeka had ever seen or evenheard about. Everyone was positive the disease had been inflicted120 upon the poor officer in retribution by Major--- de Coverley, although no one was sure how.
Most of the official documents that came to Major Major’s desk did not concern him at all. The vast majorityconsisted of allusions121 to prior communications which Major Major had never seen or heard of. There was neverany need to look them up, for the instructions were invariably to disregard. In the space of a single productiveminute, therefore, he might endorse122 twenty separate documents each advising him to pay absolutely no attentionto any of the others. From General Peckem’s office on the mainland came prolix123 bulletins each day headed bysuch cheery homilies as “Procrastination124 is the Thief of Time” and “Cleanliness is Next to Godliness.”
General Peckem’s communications about cleanliness and procrastination made Major Major feel like a filthyprocrastinator, and he always got those out of the way as quickly as he could. The only official documents that interested him were those occasional ones pertaining125 to the unfortunate second lieutenant who had been killed onthe mission over Orvieto less than two hours after he arrived on Pianosa and whose partly unpacked126 belongingswere still in Yossarian’s tent. Since the unfortunate lieutenant had reported to the operations tent instead of to theorderly room, Sergeant Towser had decided that it would be safest to report him as never having reported to thesquadron at all, and the occasional documents relating to him dealt with the fact that he seemed to have vanishedinto thin air, which, in one way, was exactly what did happen to him. In the long run, Major Major was gratefulfor the official documents that came to his desk, for sitting in his office signing them all day long was a lot betterthan sitting in his office all day long not signing them. They gave him something to do.
Inevitably, every document he signed came back with a fresh page added for a new signature by him afterintervals of from two to ten days. They were always much thicker than formerly127, for in between the sheet bearinghis last endorsement128 and the sheet added for his new endorsement were the sheets bearing the most recentendorsements of all the other officers in scattered130 locations who were also occupied in signing their names to thatsame official document. Major Major grew despondent131 as he watched simple communications swell132 prodigiouslyinto huge manuscripts. No matter how many times he signed one, it always came back for still another signature,and he began to despair of ever being free of any of them. One day—it was the day after the C.I.D. man’s firstvisit—Major Major signed Washington Irving’s name to one of the documents instead of his own, just to seehow it would feel. He liked it. He liked it so much that for the rest of that afternoon he did the same with all theofficial documents. It was an act of impulsive133 frivolity134 and rebellion for which he knew afterward135 he would bepunished severely136. The next morning he entered his office in trepidation137 and waited to see what would happen.
Nothing happened.
He had sinned, and it was good, for none of the documents to which he had signed Washington Irving’s nameever came back! Here, at last, was progress, and Major Major threw himself into his new career with uninhibitedgusto. Signing Washington Irving’s name to official documents was not much of a career, perhaps, but it wasless monotonous138 than signing “Major Major Major.” When Washington Irving did grow monotonous, he couldreverse the order and sign Irving Washington until that grew monotonous. And he was getting something done,for none of the documents signed with either of these names ever came back to the squadron.
What did come back, eventually, was a second C.I.D. man, masquerading as a pilot. The men knew he was aC.I.D. man because he confided139 to them he was and urged each of them not to reveal his true identity to any ofthe other men to whom he had already confided that he was a C.I.D. man.
“You’re the only one in the squadron who knows I’m a C.I.D. man,” he confided to Major Major, “and it’sabsolutely essential that it remain a secret so that my efficiency won’t be impaired140. Do you understand?”
“Sergeant Towser knows.”
“Yes, I know. I had to tell him in order to get in to see you. But I know he won’t tell a soul under anycircumstances.”
“He told me,” said Major Major. “He told me there was a C.I.D. man outside to see me.”
“That bastard141. I’ll have to throw a security check on him. I wouldn’t leave any top-secret documents lyingaround here if I were you. At least not until I make my report.”
“I don’t get any top-secret documents,” said Major Major.
“That’s the kind I mean. Lock them in your cabinet where Sergeant Towser can’t get his hands on them.”
“Sergeant Towser has the only key to the cabinet.”
“I’m afraid we’re wasting time,” said the second C.I.D. man rather stiffly. He was a brisk, pudgy, high-strungperson whose movements were swift and certain. He took a number of photostats out of a large red expansionenvelope he had been hiding conspicuously142 beneath a leather flight jacket painted garishly143 with pictures ofairplanes flying through orange bursts of flak and with orderly rows of little bombs signifying fifty-five combatmissions flown. “Have you ever seen any of these?”
Major Major looked with a blank expression at copies of personal correspondence from the hospital on which thecensoring officer had written “Washington Irving” or “Irving Washington.”
No.
“How about these?”
Major Major gazed next at copies of official documents addressed to him to which he had been signing the samesignatures.
“No.”
“Is the man who signed these names in your squadron?”
“Which one? There are two names here.”
“Either one. We figure that Washington Irving and Irving Washington are one man and that he’s using twonames just to throw us off the track. That’s done very often you know.”
“I don’t think there’s a man with either of those names in my squadron.”
A look of disappointment crossed the second C.I.D. man’s face. “He’s a lot cleverer than we thought,” heobserved. “He’s using a third name and posing as someone else. And I think... yes, I think I know what that thirdname is.” With excitement and inspiration, he held another photostat out for Major Major to study. “How aboutthis?”
Major Major bent144 forward slightly and saw a copy of the piece of V mail from which Yossarian had blacked outeverything but the name Mary and on which he had written, “I yearn145 for you tragically146. R. O. Shipman, Chaplain, U.S. Army.” Major Major shook his head.
“I’ve never seen it before.”
“Do you know who R. O. Shipman is?”
“He’s the group chaplain.”
“That locks it up,” said the second C.I.D. man. “Washington Irving is the group chaplain.”
Major Major felt a twinge of alarm. “R. O. Shipman is the group chaplain,” he corrected.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Why should the group chaplain write this on a letter?”
“Perhaps somebody else wrote it and forged his name.”
“Why should somebody want to forge the group chaplain’s name?”
“To escape detection.”
“You may be right,” the second C.I.D. man decided after an instant’s hesitation147, and smacked148 his lips crisply.
“Maybe we’re confronted with a gang, with two men working together who just happen to have opposite names.
Yes, I’m sure that’s it. One of them here in the squadron, one of them up at the hospital and one of them with thechaplain. That makes three men, doesn’t it? Are you absolutely sure you never saw any of these officialdocuments before?”
“I would have signed them if I had.”
“With whose name?” asked the second C.I.D. man cunningly. “Yours or Washington Irving’s?”
“With my own name,” Major Major told him. “I don’t even know Washington Irving’s name.”
The second C.I.D. man broke into a smile.
“Major, I’m glad you’re in the clear. It means we’ll be able to work together, and I’m going to need every man Ican get. Somewhere in the European theater of operations is a man who’s getting his hands on communicationsaddressed to you. Have you any idea who it can be?”
“No.”
“Well, I have a pretty good idea,” said the second C.I.D. man, and leaned forward to whisper confidentially149.
“That bastard Towser. Why else would he go around shooting his mouth off about me? Now, you keep your eyesopen and let me know the minute you hear anyone even talking about Washington Irving. I’ll throw a securitycheck on the chaplain and everyone else around here.”
The moment he was gone, the first C.I.D. man jumped into Major Major’s office through the window andwanted to know who the second C.I.D. man was. Major Major barely recognized him.
“He was a C.I.D. man,” Major Major told him.
“Like hell he was,” said the first C.I.D. man. “I’m the C.I.D. man around here.”
Major Major barely recognized him because he was wearing a faded maroon150 corduroy bathrobe with open seamsunder both arms, linty151 flannel152 pajamas153, and worn house slippers154 with one flapping sole. This was regulationhospital dress, Major Major recalled. The man had added about twenty pounds and seemed bursting with goodhealth.
“I’m really a very sick man,” he whined155. “I caught cold in the hospital from a fighter pilot and came down with avery serious case of pneumonia156.”
“I’m very sorry,” Major Major said.
“A lot of good that does me,” the C.I.D. man sniveled. “I don’t want your sympathy. I just want you to knowwhat I’m going through. I came down to warn you that Washington Irving seems to have shifted his base ofoperations from the hospital to your squadron. You haven’t heard anyone around here talking about WashingtonIrving, have you?”
“As a matter of fact, I have,” Major Major answered.
“That man who was just in here. He was talking about Washington Irving.”
“Was he really?” the first C.I.D. man cried with delight. “This might be just what we needed to crack the casewide open! You keep him under surveillance twenty-four hours a day while I rush back to the hospital and writemy superiors for further instructions.” The C.I.D. man jumped out of Major Major’s office through the windowand was gone.
A minute later, the flap separating Major Major’s office from the orderly room flew open and the second C.I.D.
man was back, puffing157 frantically158 in haste. Gasping159 for breath, he shouted, “I just saw a man in red pajamasjumping out of your window and go running up the road! Didn’t you see him?”
“He was here talking to me,” Major Major answered.
“I thought that looked mighty160 suspicious, a man jumping out the window in red pajamas.” The man paced aboutthe small office in vigorous circles. “At first I thought it was you, hightailing it for Mexico. But now I see itwasn’t you. He didn’t say anything about Washington Irving, did he?”
“As a matter of fact,” said Major Major, “he did.”
“He did?” cried the second C.I.D. man. “That’s fine! This might be just the break we needed to crack the casewide open. Do you know where we can find him?”
“At the hospital. He’s really a very sick man.”
“That’s great!” exclaimed the second C.I.D. man. “I’ll go right up there after him. It would be best if I wentincognito. I’ll go explain the situation at the medical tent and have them send me there as a patient.”
“They won’t send me to the hospital as a patient unless I’m sick,” he reported back to Major Major. “Actually, Iam pretty sick. I’ve been meaning to turn myself in for a checkup, and this will be a good opportunity. I’ll goback to the medical tent and tell them I’m sick, and I’ll get sent to the hospital that way.”
“Look what they did to me,” he reported back to Major Major with purple gums. His distress161 was inconsolable.
He carried his shoes and socks in his hands, and his toes had been painted with gentian-violet solution, too.
“Who ever heard of a C.I.D. man with purple gums?” he moaned.
He walked away from the orderly room with his head down and tumbled into a slit162 trench163 and broke his nose.
His temperature was still normal, but Gus and Wes made an exception of him and sent him to the hospital in anambulance.
Major Major had lied, and it was good. He was not really surprised that it was good, for he had observed thatpeople who did lie were, on the whole, more resourceful and ambitious and successful than people who did notlie. Had he told the truth to the second C.I.D. man, he would have found himself in trouble. Instead he had liedand he was free to continue his work.
He became more circumspect164 in his work as a result of the visit from the second C.I.D. man. He did all hissigning with his left hand and only while wearing the dark glasses and false mustache he had used unsuccessfullyto help him begin playing basketball again. As an additional precaution, he made a happy switch fromWashington Irving to John Milton. John Milton was supple165 and concise166. Like Washington Irving, he could bereversed with good effect whenever he grew monotonous. Furthermore, he enabled Major Major to double hisoutput, for John Milton was so much shorter than either his own name or Washington Irving’s and took so muchless time to write. John Milton proved fruitful in still one more respect. He was versatile167, and Major Major soonfound himself incorporating the signature in fragments of imaginary dialogues. Thus, typical endorsements129 onthe official documents might read, “John Milton is a sadist” or “Have you seen Milton, John?” One signature ofwhich he was especially proud read, “Is anybody in the John, Milton?” John Milton threw open whole new vistasfilled with charming, inexhaustible possibilities that promised to ward off monotony forever. Major Major wentback to Washington Irving when John Milton grew monotonous.
Major Major had bought the dark glasses and false mustache in Rome in a final, futile168 attempt to save himselffrom the swampy169 degradation170 into which he was steadily171 sinking. First there had been the awful humiliation172 ofthe Great Loyalty173 Oath Crusade, when not one of the thirty or forty people circulating competitive loyalty oathswould even allow him to sign. Then, just when that was blowing over, there was the matter of Clevinger’s planedisappearing so mysteriously in thin air with every member of the crew, and blame for the strange mishapcentering balefully on him because he had never signed any of the loyalty oaths.
The dark glasses had large magenta174 rims175. The false black mustache was a flamboyant176 organ-grinder’s, and hewore them both to the basketball game one day when he felt he could endure his loneliness no longer. Heaffected an air of jaunty177 familiarity as he sauntered to the court and prayed silently that he would not berecognized. The others pretended not to recognize him, and he began to have fun. Just as he finishedcongratulating himself on his innocent ruse178 he was bumped hard by one of his opponents and knocked to hisknees. Soon he was bumped hard again, and it dawned on him that they did recognize him and that they wereusing his disguise as a license179 to elbow, trip and maul him. They did not want him at all. And just as he didrealize this, the players on his team fused instinctively180 with the players on the other team into a single, howling,bloodthirsty mob that descended181 upon him from all sides with foul182 curses and swinging fists. They knocked himto the ground, kicked him while he was on the ground, attacked him again after he had struggled blindly to hisfeet. He covered his face with his hands and could not see. They swarmed183 all over each other in their frenziedcompulsion to bludgeon him, kick him, gouge184 him, trample185 him. He was pummeled spinning to the edge of theditch and sent slithering down on his head and shoulders. At the bottom he found his footing, clambered up theother wall and staggered away beneath the hail of hoots186 and stones with which they pelted187 him until he lurchedinto shelter around a corner of the orderly room tent. His paramount188 concern throughout the entire assault was tokeep his dark glasses and false mustache in place so that he might continue pretending he was somebody else andbe spared the dreaded189 necessity of having to confront them with his authority.
Back in his office, he wept; and when he finished weeping he washed the blood from his mouth and nose,scrubbed the dirt from the abrasions190 on his cheek and forehead, and summoned Sergeant Towser.
“From now on,” he said, “I don’t want anyone to come in to see me while I’m here. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said Sergeant Towser. “Does that include me?”
“Yes.”
“I see. Will that be all?”
“Yes.”
“What shall I say to the people who do come to see you while you’re here?”
“Tell them I’m in and ask them to wait.”
“Yes, sir. For how long?”
“Until I’ve left.”
“And then what shall I do with them?”
“I don’t care.”
“May I send them in to see you after you’ve left?”
“Yes.”
“But you won’t be here then, will you?”
“No.”
“Yes, sir. Will that be all?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, sir.”
“From now on,” Major Major said to the middle-aged191 enlisted man who took care of his trailer, “I don’t wantyou to come here while I’m here to ask me if there’s anything you can do for me. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said the orderly. “When should I come here to find out if there’s anything you want me to do foryou?”
“When I’m not here.”
“Yes, sir. And what should I do?”
“Whatever I tell you to.”
“But you won’t be here to tell me. Will you?”
“No.”
“Then what should I do?”
“Whatever has to be done.”
“Yes, sir.”
“That will be all,” said Major Major.
“Yes, sir,” said the orderly. “Will that be all?”
“No,” said Major Major. “Don’t come in to clean, either. Don’t come in for anything unless you’re sure I’m nothere.”
“Yes, sir. But how can I always be sure?”
“If you’re not sure, just assume that I am here and go away until you are sure. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m sorry to have to talk to you in this way, but I have to. Goodbye.”
“Goodbye, sir.”
“And thank you. For everything.”
“Yes, sir.”
“From now on,” Major Major said to Milo Minderbinder, “I’m not going to come to the mess hall any more. I’llhave all my meals brought to me in my trailer.”
“I think that’s a good idea, sir,” Milo answered. “Now I’ll be able to serve you special dishes that the others willnever know about. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them. Colonel Cathcart always does.”
“I don’t want any special dishes. I want exactly what you serve all the other officers. Just have whoever brings itknock once on my door and leave the tray on the step. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” said Milo. “That’s very clear. I’ve got some live Maine lobsters192 hidden away that I can serve youtonight with an excellent Roquefort salad and two frozen éclairs that were smuggled194 out of Paris only yesterdaytogether with an important member of the French underground. Will that do for a start?”
“No.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
For dinner that night Milo served him broiled195 Maine lobster193 with excellent Roquefort salad and two frozenéclairs. Major Major was annoyed. If he sent it back, though, it would only go to waste or to somebody else, andMajor Major had a weakness for broiled lobster. He ate with a guilty conscience. The next day for lunch therewas terrapin196 Maryland with a whole quart of Dom Pérignon 1937, and Major Major gulped197 it down without a thought.
After Milo, there remained only the men in the orderly room, and Major Major avoided them by entering andleaving every time through the dingy198 celluloid window of his office. The window unbuttoned and was low andlarge and easy to jump through from either side. He managed the distance between the orderly room and histrailer by darting199 around the corner of the tent when the coast was clear, leaping down into the railroad ditch anddashing along with head bowed until he attained200 the sanctuary201 of the forest. Abreast202 of his trailer, he left theditch and wove his way speedily toward home through the dense203 underbrush, in which the only person he everencountered was Captain Flume, who, drawn204 and ghostly, frightened him half to death one twilight205 bymaterializing without warning out of a patch of dewberry bushes to complain that Chief White Halfoat hadthreatened to slit his throat open from ear to ear.
“If you ever frighten me like that again,” Major Major told him, “I’ll slit your throat open from ear to ear.”
Captain Flume gasped206 and dissolved right back into the patch of dewberry bushes, and Major Major never seteyes on him again.
When Major Major looked back on what he had accomplished207, he was pleased. In the midst of a few foreignacres teeming208 with more than two hundred people, he had succeeded in becoming a recluse209. With a littleingenuity and vision, he had made it all but impossible for anyone in the squadron to talk to him, which was justfine with everyone, he noticed, since no one wanted to talk to him anyway. No one, it turned out, but thatmadman Yossarian, who brought him down with a flying tackle one day as he was scooting along the bottom ofthe ditch to his trailer for lunch.
The last person in the squadron Major Major wanted to be brought down with a flying tackle by was Yossarian.
There was something inherently disreputable about Yossarian, always carrying on so disgracefully about thatdead man in his tent who wasn’t even there and then taking off all his clothes after the Avignon mission andgoing around without them right up to the day General Dreedle stepped up to pin a medal on him for his heroismover Ferrara and found him standing in formation stark210 naked. No one in the world had the power to remove thedead man’s disorganized effects from Yossarian’s tent. Major Major had forfeited211 the authority when hepermitted Sergeant Towser to report the lieutenant who had been killed over Orvieto less than two hours after hearrived in the squadron as never having arrived in the squadron at all. The only one with any right to remove hisbelongings from Yossarian’s tent, it seemed to Major Major, was Yossarian himself, and Yossarian, it seemed toMajor Major, had no right.
Major Major groaned212 after Yossarian brought him down with a flying tackle, and tried to wiggle to his feet.
Yossarian wouldn’t let him.
“Captain Yossarian,” Yossarian said, “requests permission to speak to the major at once about a matter of life ordeath.”
“Let me up, please,” Major Major bid him in cranky discomfort. “I can’t return your salute213 while I’m lying onmy arm.”
Yossarian released him. They stood up slowly. Yossarian saluted214 again and repeated his request.
“Let’s go to my office,” Major Major said. “I don’t think this is the best place to talk.”
“Yes, sir,” answered Yossarian.
They smacked the gravel215 from their clothing and walked in constrained216 silence to the entrance of the orderlyroom.
“Give me a minute or two to put some mercurochrome on these cuts. Then have Sergeant Towser send you in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Major Major strode with dignity to the rear of the orderly room without glancing at any of the clerks and typistsworking at the desks and filing cabinets. He let the flap leading to his office fall closed behind him. As soon ashe was alone in his office, he raced across the room to the window and jumped outside to dash away. He foundYossarian blocking his path. Yossarian was waiting at attention and saluted again.
“Captain Yossarian requests permission to speak to the major at once about a matter of life or death,” he repeateddeterminedly.
“Permission denied,” Major Major snapped.
“That won’t do it.”
Major Major gave in. “All right,” he conceded wearily. “I’ll talk to you. Please jump inside my office.”
“After you.”
They jumped inside the office. Major Major sat down, and Yossarian moved around in front of his desk and toldhim that he did not want to fly any more combat missions. What could he do? Major Major asked himself. All hecould do was what he had been instructed to do by Colonel Korn and hope for the best.
“Why not?” he asked.
“I’m afraid.”
“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Major Major counseled him kindly217. “We’re all afraid.”
“I’m not ashamed,” Yossarian said. “I’m just afraid.”
“You wouldn’t be normal if you were never afraid. Even the bravest men experience fear. One of the biggest jobs we all face in combat is to overcome our fear.”
“Oh, come on, Major. Can’t we do without that horseshit?”
Major Major lowered his gaze sheepishly and fiddled218 with his fingers. “What do you want me to tell you?”
“That I’ve flown enough missions and can go home.”
“How many have you flown?”
“Fifty-one.”
“You’ve only got four more to fly.”
“He’ll raise them. Every time I get close he raises them.”
“Perhaps he won’t this time.”
“He never sends anyone home, anyway. He just keeps them around waiting for rotation219 orders until he doesn’thave enough men left for the crews, and then raises the number of missions and throws them all back on combatstatus. He’s been doing that ever since he got here.”
“You mustn’t blame Colonel Cathcart for any delay with the orders,” Major Major advised. “It’s Twenty-seventhAir Force’s responsibility to process the orders promptly220 once they get them from us.”
“He could still ask for replacements221 and send us home when the orders did come back. Anyway, I’ve been toldthat Twenty-seventh Air Force wants only forty missions and that it’s only his own idea to get us to fly fifty-five.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that,” Major Major answered. “Colonel Cathcart is our commanding officerand we must obey him. Why don’t you fly the four more missions and see what happens?”
“I don’t want to.”
What could you do? Major Major asked himself again. What could you do with a man who looked you squarelyin the eye and said he would rather die than be killed in combat, a man who was at least as mature and intelligentas you were and who you had to pretend was not? What could you say to him?
“Suppose we let you pick your missions and fly milk runs,” Major Major said. “That way you can fly the fourmissions and not run any risks.”
“I don’t want to fly milk runs. I don’t want to be in the war any more.”
“Would you like to see our country lose?” Major Major asked.
“We won’t lose. We’ve got more men, more money and more material. There are ten million men in uniformwho could replace me. Some people are getting killed and a lot more are making money and having fun. Letsomebody else get killed.”
“But suppose everybody on our side felt that way.”
“Then I’d certainly be a damned fool to feel any other way. Wouldn’t I?”
What could you possibly say to him? Major Major wondered forlornly. One thing he could not say was that therewas nothing he could do. To say there was nothing he could do would suggest he would do something if he couldand imply the existence of an error of injustice222 in Colonel Korn’s policy. Colonel Korn had been most explicitabout that. He must never say there was nothing he could do.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “But there’s nothing I can do.”
09、梅杰·梅杰·梅杰少校
梅杰·梅杰·梅杰少校自呱呱坠地起，便是不很顺当的。
他跟米尼弗·奇维一样，出娘胎那会儿拖的时间过长——足足拖了三十六个小时，结果，把他母亲的身体给拖垮了。她母亲是个温柔、多病的女人，临盆前足足痛了一天半，才把梅杰生下来，产后，便全没了心思去跟丈夫争执给新生婴儿取名。医院的过道里，她丈夫严肃而又果断地忙着该他做的一切，他是个极有主心骨的男人。梅杰少校的父亲是个瘦高个儿，着一套毛料服装和一双笨重的鞋子。他丝毫不迟疑地填写了婴儿出生证明书，之后，便很镇静地把填好了的出生证明书交给楼层主管护士。护士一声不吭地从他手中接了过去，于是就放轻脚步走开了。他目送着她离开，一边在纳闷，不知道她贴身穿的是什么内衣裤。
他回到病房，见妻子软绵绵地躺在病床上，身上盖着毛毯，活像一棵失了水分的萎蔫的蔬菜，皱巴巴的面孔又干瘪又苍白，衰弱的躯体一动不动。她的床在病房最尽头，临近一扇尘封的破窗。大雨哗哗地从喧闹的天空瓢泼下来。天阴沉冷峭。医院的其他病房里，那些惨白得见不到一丝血色的病人，正等候着死神的最终降临。梅杰少校的父亲直挺挺地站立在病榻一旁，垂下头，久久地注视着自己的女人。
“我给孩子取了个名，叫凯莱布，”临了他低声跟她说，“是照了你的意思取的。”女人没有答话，慢慢地，男人便笑了起来。这句话是他经过精心的考虑之后，才说出口的，因为他妻子睡着了，永远也不会知道，就在她躺在县医院这间破旧的病房里的病床上时，自己的丈夫竟对她说了谎。
正是从这艰难的起点，走出了这位无能的中队长。眼下，他正在皮亚诺萨岛，每天的大部分工作时间全都用来在公文上假冒签华盛顿·欧文的名字。为了避免有人识别出他的笔迹，梅杰少校煞费了苦心，左手签名。他把自己隔离了起来，并利用自己不曾希图的职权，禁止任何人侵扰他。同时，他又用了假胡子和墨镜伪装自己，以防有人偶然从那扇尘封的赛璐珞窗户——有个小偷在上面挖了一道口子——外面往里张望，发现秘密。从最初卑贱的出身到取得如今不怎么起眼的成功，梅杰少校走过了三十一年的凄怆岁月，尝尽了孤寂和挫折。
梅杰少校是姗姗来迟地来到这世上的，实在太缓慢，而且天生就是平庸透顶的人物。有些人是天生的庸才，有些人则是后天一番努力后才显出庸碌无能的，再有些人却是被迫平庸地过活的。至于梅杰少校，他是集三者于一身。即便是在平庸的人中间，他也毫无疑问要比所有其余的人来得平庸，因此反倒很突出了。只要是见过他的人，总有很深的印象，他这人实在是太平常太不起眼了。
梅杰少校自一出世便背上了三个不利因素——他母亲、他父亲和亨利·方达。差不多从出娘胎的那一刻起，他就显出与亨利·方达有叫人受不了的酷肖相貌。还在他不清楚亨利·方达为何人之前，曾有很长一段时间，无论走到什么地方，他总是发现别人把他跟亨利·方达放一块，做些令他很难堪的比较。素不相识的人都觉得应该轻视他，结果，害得他自小就像犯了罪似地惧怕见人，而且还讨好地迫不及待地想跟人家道歉：他的确不是亨利·方达。生就了一副酷似亨利·方达的相貌，在他说来，要这样走完一生的路，实在不是桩容易的事。然而，他继承了父亲——极富幽默感的瘦高个儿——百折不回的品性，从来就不曾有过一丝逃避现实的念头。
梅杰少校的父亲一向为人持重，又很敬畏上帝。依他看，谎报自己的年龄，是他最得意逗人的笑话。他是个农民，四肢细长，却能吃苦耐劳，同时，他又是个敬畏上帝、热爱自由、尊纪守法的个人主义者。他认为，如果联邦政府援助别人，而不援助农民，这便是奴性社会主义。他提倡勤俭，很讨厌那些曾拒绝过他的浪荡女人。种植苜蓿是他的专长，可他倒是因为没种一棵苜蓿而得到了不少利益。
政府依据他没有种植的苜蓿的多少，以每一蒲式耳为单位，付给他一笔相当数量的钱。他没有种植的苜蓿的数量越大，政府给他的钱也就越多。于是，他便用这笔没出力而挣到手的钱，购置新的田产，以此来扩大自己没有种植的苜蓿的数额。为了不生产苜蓿，梅杰少校的父亲一刻都不曾停歇过。到了漫长的冬夜，他便待在屋里，搁着马具不修理。每天到了中午那一会儿，他就会跳下床来，只是为了查明的确没有人会把杂活做掉。他很聪明，知道该如何投资田产，不久，他没有种植的苜蓿的数量超过了县里的任何一个农民。于是，四邻的农民都跑来请教他方方面面的问题，因为他挣到了很多钱，所以必定是个聪明人。“种瓜得瓜，种豆得豆嘛。”他给大伙儿提了这么一条忠告。临了，大伙儿便道：“阿门。”
梅杰少校的父亲直言不讳，力主政府厉行节约，但其前提是，丝毫不影响政府的神圣职责——以农民能接受的高价，收购他们生产却没人想要的全部苜蓿，或者支付他们一定数额的钱，作为对他们没有种植一棵苜蓿的酬劳。他这个人相当傲慢，而且极有主见。他反对失业保险，只要能够敲诈到大笔的钱财，无论是向谁，他部会毫不迟疑地使出各种着数，或是哼哼唧唧地诉苦，或是一把鼻涕一把泪地哭诉，或是甜言蜜语地哄骗。他是个很虔诚的人，不管走到什么地方，总是要做一番传道。
“上帝赐给了我们这些善良的农民一双强有力的手，这样，我们就可以用这两只手尽量多捞多拿。”他时常满腔热情地布道，不是站在县政府大楼的台阶上，就是站在大西洋一太平洋食品商场的前面，一边等着他正在找的那个脾气暴躁、口嚼口香糖的年轻出纳员出来，狠狠地瞪自己一眼。“假如上帝不想让我们尽量多捞多拿的话，”他讲道，“那么，他就不会赐给我们这么好的一双手了。”
其余的人便低声道：“阿门。”
梅杰少校的父亲和加尔文教信徒一样，也信仰宿命
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well-being
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rigors
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woolen
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faltering
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underneath
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ward
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| n.守卫，监护，病房，行政区，由监护人或法院保护的人（尤指儿童）；vt.守护，躲开 | |
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8
vanquished
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| v.征服( vanquish的过去式和过去分词 )；战胜；克服；抑制 | |
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9
dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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12
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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13
meager
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| adj.缺乏的，不足的，瘦的 | |
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14
diligently
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| ad.industriously;carefully | |
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15
elude
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| v.躲避，困惑 | |
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16
camouflaged
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| v.隐蔽( camouflage的过去式和过去分词 )；掩盖；伪装，掩饰 | |
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17
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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18
dowdy
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| adj.不整洁的；过旧的 | |
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19
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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20
mediocre
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| adj.平常的，普通的 | |
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21
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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22
lanky
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| adj.瘦长的 | |
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23
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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24
thrift
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| adj.节约，节俭；n.节俭，节约 | |
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25
disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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26
specialty
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| n.(speciality)特性，特质；专业，专长 | |
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27
outspoken
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| adj.直言无讳的，坦率的，坦白无隐的 | |
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28
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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29
whine
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| v.哀号，号哭；n.哀鸣 | |
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30
wheedle
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| v.劝诱，哄骗 | |
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31
extort
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| v.勒索，敲诈，强要 | |
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32
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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33
ardor
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| n.热情，狂热 | |
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34
bad-tempered
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| adj.脾气坏的 | |
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35
stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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36
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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37
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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38
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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39
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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40
enrolling
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| v.招收( enrol的现在分词 )；吸收；入学；加入；[亦作enrol]( enroll的现在分词 )；登记，招收，使入伍（或入会、入学等），参加，成为成员；记入名册；卷起，包起 | |
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41
disastrous
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| adj.灾难性的，造成灾害的；极坏的，很糟的 | |
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42
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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43
stunning
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| adj.极好的；使人晕倒的 | |
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44
realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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45
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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46
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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47
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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48
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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49
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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50
farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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51
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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52
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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53
docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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54
compliant
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| adj.服从的，顺从的 | |
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55
enlist
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| vt.谋取(支持等)，赢得；征募；vi.入伍 | |
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56
enlisted
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| adj.应募入伍的v.（使）入伍， （使）参军( enlist的过去式和过去分词 )；获得（帮助或支持） | |
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57
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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58
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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59
belligerent
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| adj.好战的，挑起战争的；n.交战国，交战者 | |
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60
outfit
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| n.（为特殊用途的）全套装备，全套服装 | |
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61
civilian
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| adj.平民的，民用的，民众的 | |
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62
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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63
promotion
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| n.提升，晋级；促销，宣传 | |
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64
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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65
elite
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| n.精英阶层；实力集团；adj.杰出的，卓越的 | |
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66
drizzly
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| a.毛毛雨的(a drizzly day) | |
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67
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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69
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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70
rumpled
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| v.弄皱，使凌乱( rumple的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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72
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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73
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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74
instructors
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| 指导者，教师( instructor的名词复数 ) | |
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75
innate
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| adj.天生的，固有的，天赋的 | |
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76
grudge
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| n.不满，怨恨，妒嫉；vt.勉强给，不情愿做 | |
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77
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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78
ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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79
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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80
morose
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| adj.脾气坏的，不高兴的 | |
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81
dribbled
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| v.流口水( dribble的过去式和过去分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
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82
malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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83
innuendo
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| n.暗指，讽刺 | |
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84
sinisterly
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| 不吉祥地，邪恶地 | |
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85
aspired
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| v.渴望，追求( aspire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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86
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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87
belongings
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| n.私人物品，私人财物 | |
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88
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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89
lamentably
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| adv.哀伤地，拙劣地 | |
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90
usher
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| n.带位员，招待员；vt.引导，护送；vi.做招待，担任引座员 | |
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91
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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92
tablecloth
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| n.桌布，台布 | |
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93
gape
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| v.张口，打呵欠，目瞪口呆地凝视 | |
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94
pendulous
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| adj.下垂的；摆动的 | |
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95
jaw
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| n.颚，颌，说教，流言蜚语；v.喋喋不休，教训 | |
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96
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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97
tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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98
cowered
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的过去式 ) | |
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99
mustered
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的过去式和过去分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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100
exasperation
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| n.愤慨 | |
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101
antagonism
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| n.对抗，敌对，对立 | |
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102
petrified
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| adj.惊呆的；目瞪口呆的v.使吓呆，使惊呆；变僵硬；使石化(petrify的过去式和过去分词) | |
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103
glided
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| v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 )；掠过；（鸟或飞机 ） 滑翔 | |
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104
interrogate
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| vt.讯问，审问，盘问 | |
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105
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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106
thumps
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| n.猪肺病；砰的重击声( thump的名词复数 )v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的第三人称单数 ) | |
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107
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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108
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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109
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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110
moody
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| adj.心情不稳的，易怒的，喜怒无常的 | |
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111
depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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112
miseries
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| n.痛苦( misery的名词复数 )；痛苦的事；穷困；常发牢骚的人 | |
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113
laborers
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| n.体力劳动者，工人( laborer的名词复数 )；（熟练工人的）辅助工 | |
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114
peeked
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| v.很快地看( peek的过去式和过去分词 )；偷看；窥视；微露出 | |
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115
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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116
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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117
awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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118
lenient
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| adj.宽大的，仁慈的 | |
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119
delinquent
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| adj.犯法的，有过失的；n.违法者 | |
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120
inflicted
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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121
allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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122
endorse
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| vt.(支票、汇票等)背书，背署；批注；同意 | |
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123
prolix
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| adj.罗嗦的；冗长的 | |
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124
procrastination
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| n.拖延，耽搁 | |
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125
pertaining
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| 与…有关系的，附属…的，为…固有的(to) | |
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126
unpacked
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| v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的过去式和过去分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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127
formerly
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| adv.从前，以前 | |
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128
endorsement
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| n.背书；赞成，认可，担保；签(注)，批注 | |
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129
endorsements
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| n.背书( endorsement的名词复数 )；（驾驶执照上的）违章记录；（公开的）赞同；（通常为名人在广告中对某一产品的）宣传 | |
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130
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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131
despondent
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| adj.失望的，沮丧的，泄气的 | |
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132
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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133
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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134
frivolity
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| n.轻松的乐事，兴高采烈；轻浮的举止 | |
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135
afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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136
severely
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| adv.严格地；严厉地；非常恶劣地 | |
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137
trepidation
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| n.惊恐，惶恐 | |
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138
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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139
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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140
impaired
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| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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141
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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142
conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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143
garishly
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| adv.鲜艳夺目地，俗不可耐地；华丽地 | |
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144
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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145
yearn
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| v.想念；怀念；渴望 | |
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146
tragically
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| adv. 悲剧地，悲惨地 | |
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147
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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148
smacked
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| 拍，打，掴( smack的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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149
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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150
maroon
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| v.困住，使（人）处于孤独无助之境；n.逃亡黑奴；孤立的人；酱紫色，褐红色；adj.酱紫色的，褐红色的 | |
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151
linty
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| adj.有棉毛的，有棉絮的 | |
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152
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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153
pajamas
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| n.睡衣裤 | |
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154
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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155
whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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156
pneumonia
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| n.肺炎 | |
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157
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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158
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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159
gasping
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| adj. 气喘的, 痉挛的 动词gasp的现在分词 | |
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160
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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161
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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162
slit
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| n.狭长的切口；裂缝；vt.切开，撕裂 | |
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163
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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164
circumspect
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| adj.慎重的，谨慎的 | |
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165
supple
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| adj.柔软的，易弯的，逢迎的，顺从的，灵活的；vt.使柔软，使柔顺，使顺从；vi.变柔软，变柔顺 | |
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166
concise
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| adj.简洁的，简明的 | |
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167
versatile
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| adj.通用的，万用的；多才多艺的，多方面的 | |
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168
futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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169
swampy
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| adj.沼泽的，湿地的 | |
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170
degradation
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| n.降级；低落；退化；陵削；降解；衰变 | |
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171
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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172
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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173
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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174
magenta
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| n..紫红色（的染料）；adj.紫红色的 | |
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175
rims
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| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
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176
flamboyant
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| adj.火焰般的，华丽的，炫耀的 | |
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177
jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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178
ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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179
license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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180
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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181
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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182
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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183
swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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184
gouge
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| v.凿；挖出；n.半圆凿；凿孔；欺诈 | |
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185
trample
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| vt.踩，践踏；无视，伤害，侵犯 | |
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186
hoots
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| 咄，啐 | |
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187
pelted
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| （连续地）投掷( pelt的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续抨击； 攻击； 剥去…的皮 | |
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188
paramount
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| a.最重要的，最高权力的 | |
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189
dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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190
abrasions
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| n.磨损( abrasion的名词复数 )；擦伤处；摩擦；磨蚀（作用） | |
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191
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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192
lobsters
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| 龙虾( lobster的名词复数 )； 龙虾肉 | |
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193
lobster
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| n.龙虾，龙虾肉 | |
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194
smuggled
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| 水货 | |
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195
broiled
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| a.烤过的 | |
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196
terrapin
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| n.泥龟；鳖 | |
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197
gulped
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的过去式和过去分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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198
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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199
darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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200
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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201
sanctuary
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| n.圣所，圣堂，寺庙；禁猎区，保护区 | |
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202
abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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203
dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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204
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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205
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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206
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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207
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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208
teeming
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| adj.丰富的v.充满( teem的现在分词 )；到处都是；（指水、雨等）暴降；倾注 | |
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209
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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210
stark
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| adj.荒凉的；严酷的；完全的；adv.完全地 | |
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211
forfeited
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| （因违反协议、犯规、受罚等）丧失，失去( forfeit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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212
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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213
salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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214
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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215
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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216
constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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217
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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218
fiddled
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| v.伪造( fiddle的过去式和过去分词 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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219
rotation
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| n.旋转；循环，轮流 | |
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220
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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221
replacements
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| n.代替( replacement的名词复数 )；替换的人[物]；替代品；归还 | |
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222
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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