“I don’t know anything about plays,” Colonel Scheisskopf broke in bluntly.

General Peckem looked at him with amazement. Never before had a reference of his to Shakespeare’s hallowed Hamlet been ignored and trampled upon with such rude indifference. He began to wonder with genuine concern just what sort of shithead the Pentagon had foisted on him. “What do you know about?” he asked acidly.

“Parades,” answered Colonel Scheisskopf eagerly. “Will I be able to send out memos about parades?”

“As long as you don’t schedule any.” General Peckem returned to his chair still wearing a frown. “And as long as they don’t interfere with your main assignment of recommending that the authority of Special Services be expanded to include combat activities.”

“Can I schedule parades and then call them off?”

General Peckem brightened instantly. “Why, that’s a wonderful idea! But just send out weekly announcements postponing the parades. Don’t even bother to schedule them. That would be infinitely more disconcerting.” General Peckem was blossoming spryly with cordiality again. “Yes, Scheisskopf,” he said, “I think you’ve really hit on something. After all, what combat commander could possibly quarrel with us for notifying his men that there won’t be a parade that coming Sunday? We’d be merely stating a widely known fact. But the implication is beautiful. Yes, positively beautiful. We’re implying that we could schedule a parade if we chose to. I’m going to like you, Scheisskopf. Stop in and introduce yourself to Colonel Cargill and tell him what you’re up to. I know you two will like each other.”

Colonel Cargill came storming into General Peckem’s office a minute later in a furor of timid resentment. “I’ve been here longer than Scheisskopf,” he complained. “Why can’t I be the one to call off the parades?”

“Because Scheisskopf has experience with parades, and you haven’t. You can call off U.S.O. shows if you want to. In fact why don’t you? Just think of all the places that won’t be getting a U.S.O. show on any given day. Think of all the places each big-name entertainer won’t be visiting. Yes, Cargill, I think you’ve hit on something. I think you’ve just thrown open a whole new area of operation for us. Tell Colonel Scheisskopf I want him to work along under your supervision on this. And send him in to see me when you’re through giving him instructions.”

“Colonel Cargill says you told him you want me to work along under his supervision on the U.S.O. project,” Colonel Scheisskopf complained.

“I told him no such thing,” answered General Peckem. “Confidentially, Scheisskopf, I’m not too happy with Colonel Cargill. He’s bossy and he’s slow. I’d like you to keep a close eye on what he’s doing and see if you can’t get a little more work out of him.”

“He keeps butting in,” Colonel Cargill protested. “He won’t let me get any work done.”

“There’s something very funny about Scheisskopf,” General Peckem agreed reflectively. “Keep a very close eye on him and see if you can’t find out what he’s up to.”

“Now he’s butting into my business!” Colonel Scheisskopf cried.

“Don’t let it worry you, Scheisskopf,” said General Peckem, congratulating himself on how adeptly he had fit Colonel Scheisskopf into his standard method of operation. Already his two colonels were barely on speaking terms. “Colonel Cargill envies you because of the splendid job you’re doing on parades. He’s afraid I’m going to put you in charge of bomb patterns.”

Colonel Scheisskopf was all ears. “What are bomb patterns?”

“Bomb patterns?” General Peckem repeated, twinkling with self-satisfied good humor. “A bomb pattern is a term I dreamed up just several weeks ago. It means nothing, but you’d be surprised at how rapidly it’s caught on. Why, I’ve got all sorts of people convinced I think it’s important for the bombs to explode close together and make a neat aerial photograph. There’s one colonel in Pianosa who’s hardly concerned any more with whether he hits the target or not. Let’s fly over and have some fun with him today. It will make Colonel Cargill jealous, and I learned from Wintergreen this morning that General Dreedle will be off in Sardinia. It drives General Dreedle insane to find out I’ve been inspecting one of his installations while he’s been off inspecting another. We may even get there in time for the briefing. They’ll be bombing a tiny undefended village, reducing the whole community to rubble. I have it from Wintergreen-Wintergreen’s an ex-sergeant now, by the way-that the mission is entirely unnecessary. Its only purpose is to delay German reinforcements at a time when we aren’t even planning an offensive. But that’s the way things go when you elevate mediocre people to positions of authority.” He gestured languidly toward his gigantic map of Italy. “Why, this tiny mountain village is so insignificant that it isn’t even there.”

They arrived at Colonel Cathcart’s group too late to attend the preliminary briefing and hear Major Danby insist, “But it is there, I tell you. It’s there, it’s there.”

“It’s where?” Dunbar demanded defiantly, pretending not to see.

“It’s right there on the map where this road makes this slight turn. Can’t you see this slight turn on your map?”

“No, I can’t see it.”

“I can see it,” volunteered Havermeyer, and marked the spot on Dunbar’s map. “And here’s a good picture of the village right on these photographs. I understand the whole thing. The purpose of the mission is to knock the whole village sliding down the side of the mountain and create a roadblock that the Germans will have to clear. Is that right?”

“That’s right,” said Major Danby, mopping his perspiring forehead with his handkerchief. “I’m glad somebody here is beginning to understand. These two armored divisions will be coming down from Austria into Italy along this road. The village is built on such a steep incline that all the rubble from the houses and other buildings you destroy will certainly tumble right down and pile upon the road.”

“What the hell difference will it make?” Dunbar wanted to know, as Yossarian watched him excitedly with a mixture of awe and adulation. “It will only take them a couple of days to clear it.”

Major Danby was trying to avoid an argument. “Well, it apparently makes some difference to Headquarters,” he answered in a conciliatory tone. “I suppose that’s why they ordered the mission.”

“Have the people in the village been warned?” asked McWatt.

Major Danby was dismayed that McWatt too was registering opposition. “No, I don’t think so.”

“Haven’t we dropped any leaflets telling them that this time we’ll be flying over to hit them?” asked Yossarian. “Can’t we even tip them off so they’ll get out of the way?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Major Danby was swearing some more and still shifting his eyes about uneasily. “The Germans might find out and choose another road. I’m not sure about any of this. I’m just making assumptions.”

“They won’t even take shelter,” Dunbar argued bitterly. “They’ll pour out into the streets to wave when they see our planes coming, all the children and dogs and old people. Jesus Christ! Why can’t we leave them alone?”

“Why can’t we create the roadblock somewhere else?” asked McWatt. “Why must it be there?”

“I don’t know,” Major Danby answered unhappily. “I don’t know. Look, fellows, we’ve got to have some confidence in the people above us who issue our orders. They know what they’re doing.”

“The hell they do,” said Dunbar.

“What’s the trouble?” inquired Colonel Korn, moving leisurely across the briefing room with his hands in his pockets and his tan shirt baggy.

“Oh, no trouble, Colonel,” said Major Danby, trying nervously to cover up. “We’re just discussing the mission.”

“They don’t want to bomb the village,” Havermeyer snickered, giving Major Danby away.