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'I'm answering your question, sir.'

'What question?'

' "Just what the hell did you mean, you bastard, when you said we couldn't punish you?" ' said the corporal who could take shorthand, reading from his steno pad.

'All right,' said the colonel. 'Just what the hell did you mean?'

'I didn't say you couldn't punish me, sir.'

'When?' asked the colonel.

'When what, sir?'

'Now you're asking me questions again.'

'I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid I don't understand your question.'

'When didn't you say we couldn't punish you? Don't you understand my question?'

'No, sir. I don't understand.'

'You've just told us that. Now suppose you answer my question.'

'But how can I answer it?'

'That's another question you're asking me.'

'I'm sorry, sir. But I don't know how to answer it. I never said you couldn't punish me.'

'Now you're telling us when you did say it. I'm asking you to tell us when you didn't say it.' Clevinger took a deep breath. 'I always didn't say you couldn't punish me, sir.'

'That's much better, Mr. Clevinger, even though it is a barefaced lie. Last night in the latrine. Didn't you whisper that we couldn't punish you to that other dirty son of a bitch we don't like? What's his name?'

'Yossarian, sir,' Lieutenant Scheisskopf said.

'Yes, Yossarian. That's right. Yossarian. Yossarian? Is that his name? Yossarian? What the hell kind of a name is Yossarian?' Lieutenant Scheisskopf had the facts at his fingertips. 'It's Yossarian's name, sir,' he explained.

'Yes, I suppose it is. Didn't you whisper to Yossarian that we couldn't punish you?'

'Oh, no, sir. I whispered to him that you couldn't find me guilty--'

'I may be stupid,' interrupted the colonel, 'but the distinction escapes me. I guess I am pretty stupid, because the distinction escapes me.'

'W--'

'You're a windy son of a bitch, aren't you? Nobody asked you for clarification and you're giving me clarification. I was making a statement, not asking for clarification. You are a windy son of a bitch, aren't you?'

'No, Sir.'

'No, sir? Are you ca

lling me a goddam liar?'

'Oh, no, sir.'

'Then you're a windy son of a bitch, aren't you?'

'No, sir.'