Catch-22 Page #3

---

- Absolutely, sir.

- May I ask where we're going?

- Where we're going?

You are going

to Colonel Cathcart's office.

- Now?

- That's the general idea, Padre.

Is there anything wrong?

Have I done anything?

I don't know. Are you and

Captain Yossarian up to something?

- I don't know what you mean.

- Then who does?

- I don't know, sir.

- You don't know much about anything.

- No, sir. Sir?

- What is it?

It's not necessary to call me Father.

I'm an Anabaptist.

Thanks for the correction. Thanks

for setting me straight on that.

- I just thought you'd like to know.

- You're a captain, right?

- I'm a Lieutenant Colonel. Correct?

- Yes, sir, it is.

Then I can call you anything I want,

unless you have some objections.

- Out!

- Thank you, sir.

Sir, do you think now...?

- Morning. Anything I can get you?

- Morning, Lieutenant. What?

- Do you need any supplies?

- No.

Whisky, silk stockings,

building materials, fresh fruit?

The Colonel loves fresh fruit.

What about religious supplies?

I know I can get hold of an entire

shipment of religious relics.

Blessed by the Pope himself.

The stuff includes the bones

of some of your top saints.

- That's very kind of you.

- If you need anything, ask for Milo.

- I was never issued a blanket.

- Anything at all, now!

I think the Colonel wants to see me.

- He does?

- I believe so. I'm...

- Chaplain Tappman.

- You're Chaplain Tappman?

Have a seat. I'll tell the Colonel

you're here, Father.

It's not...

You'd better get some dry things.

I will. As soon as the Colonel

is through with me.

They just picked me up

out of the sea.

- I drifted for almost three days.

- You should report to the hospital.

- You could catch pneumonia.

- Not me.

- This is my fourth time.

- How do you mean?

I've put down in the Mediterranean

once, once in the Adriatic,

then I crash-landed one plane

and I bailed out once.

- You're very lucky.

- That's what some folks say.

Yossarian says they're gonna start

taking it out of my salary.

He's a friend of mine.

Do you know him?

- As a matter of fact...

- Captain Tappman!

- Perhaps you shouldn't fly any more.

- It's good practice.

- Tappman, the Colonel is a busy man.

- Yes, of course.

We don't see much of you

around here lately.

Well, sir, I try to stay out

of the way as much as possible.

- I may make the men uncomfortable.

- Nonsense!

I can't imagine any man not enjoying

the benefits of your presence.

Unless they're atheists.

- Not much chance of that, though.

- I don't know, sir.

- Isn't atheism against the law?

- No.

It isn't?

Then it's un-American, isn't it?

- I'm not sure.

- Well, I am.

If I find any atheists on this base,

you can bet they'll soon

start believing in something.

That's not why

I called you in, Chaplain.

I want you to take a look at this.

Page 48.

Don't read the whole thing. You can

get the point from the photographs.

There's a full-page picture

of a colonel in England

whose chaplain conducts prayers

before every mission.

I see no reason why

The Saturday Evening Post

should not be interested

in the story of my outfit.

Think up some nice snappy prayers

to send the men out feeling good.

Can you do that?

- I'll try.

- Well, good! Let's get to it!

Is there something else?

Sir, it may be none of my business,

but some of the men are

particularly upset about the fact

that you keep raising the number

of missions they have to fly.

- You're right, Chaplain.

- I am, sir?

That it's none of your business.

And it's none of theirs either.

Their business is to fly missions.

Your business is to think of

some catchy prayers

that'll get me into The Saturday

Evening Post. Good afternoon!

- Excuse me.

- Excuse me, Padre.

He says the men are upset because I

keep raising the number of missions.

It's that Captain Yossarian. He's

always bitching and making trouble.

- What can we do about it?

- What would General Dreedle do?

- He'd crush him.

- Tear him apart!

- Smack him in the face!

- Jab him in the kidneys!

Kick him in the balls!

Keep your head down

between your legs.

Try to breathe deeply and evenly.

I'm sorry, Captain.

I know how that must feel.

- I don't think so.

- Try not to talk.

Just think about nice things.

Think about how lovely it is here,

how lovely it would be if someone

didn't always try to spoil it.

- Why do you always try to spoil it?

- Because I love you.

I know that, Captain. I know that.

But this is wartime.

We've got a job to do, Soldier.

We just can't give in to ourselves.

Think how it is for me.

One of a handful of women

on an island with thousands of men.

Men who are giving up their lives

for our country, for me.

Think about... Captain Yossarian!

- What are you doing?

- Listen, I'm gonna die.

What is it?

What's the matter?

The name of the town is Ferrara

and it's right around here.

It's a very pretty town,

on the coast.

- You all right?

- It's her, it's her!

- Who?

- Dreedle's WAC!

If you do your job well, there won't

be anything left of it, anyway.

Intelligence reports indicate you

shouldn't have to worry about flak.

We were hoping for some

new recon photos of the area.

Unfortunately they haven't arrived

but then, no news is good news.

You may ask how come we're out

to destroy a town with no industry,

no enemy bases,

no strategic value to anyone.

As you were. Good morning, gentlemen.

We're honoured to have General

Dreedle at today's briefing.

Don't pay any attention to me.

Just carry on.

- Don't pay any attention to Dad.

- Will you clam up?

Don't call me Dad.

- Go ahead with your briefing, Major.

- Yes, well... Thank you, sir.

I was just telling

the men here that...

- Don't tell me. Tell them!

- Tell the men, Danby.

Yes. I was just explaining

why we're going to obliterate...

- What about a chair?

- Sir?

- A chair.

- I beg your pardon, General?

A chair!

Doesn't anyone know what a chair is?!

Can't you see a lady is standing?

A chair for Dad's gir... for the lady!

Carry on.

We're now going to synchronise

our watches.

We've all done this before, so I

don't think we'll have a problem.

If everyone will be kind enough to

look down at his watch, we'll begin.

It is now 11:
15 hours minus 50...

Somebody's gonna get it!

All right, at ease!

There'll be no more moaning

in this outfit.

The next man who moans

is going to be very sorry.

Who is this man?

- Major Danby, sir.

- Danby. D-A-N-B-Y.

- Take him out and shoot him.

- Sir?

- I said take him out and shoot him.

- Take Major Danby out and shoot him.

I think you'd better wait a minute,

Dad. I don't think you can shoot him.

Why the hell can't I? Why not?

You mean I can't shoot

whoever I want to?

- Is that a fact?

- I'm afraid it is, Dad.

You think you're pretty smart,

don't you?

Just because my daughter married you

for God knows what bizarre reason...

No, Dad, it's just...

Let the insubordinate son of a b*tch

go, but get him out of here.

Rate this script:5.0 / 1 vote