You See, There’s This Catch...
“You’re wasting your time,” Doc Daneeka was forced to tell him.
“Can’t you ground someone’s who’s crazy?”
“Oh sure, I have to. There’s a rule saying I have to ground anyone who’s crazy.”
“Then why don’t you ground me. Ask Clevinger.”
“Clevinger? Where is Clevinger? You find Clevinger and I’ll ask him.”
“Then ask any of the others. They’ll tell you how crazy I am.”
“They’re crazy.”
“Then why don’t you ground them?”
“Why don’t they ask me to ground them?”
“Because they’re crazy, that’s why.”
“Of course they’re crazy,” Doc Daneeka replied. “I just told you they’re crazy didn’t I? And you can’t let crazy people decide whether you’re crazy or not can you?”
Yossarian looked at him soberly and tried another approach. “Is Orr crazy?” “He sure is,” Doc Daneeka said. “Can you ground him?”
“I sure can but first he has to ask me to. That’s part of the rule.”
“Then why doesn’t he ask you to?”
“Because he’s crazy,” Doc Daneeka said. “He has to be crazy to keep flying combat missions after all the close calls he’s had. Sure I can ground Orr. But first he has to ask me to.”
“That’s all he has to do to be grounded?”
“That’s all. Let him ask me.”
“And then you can ground him?” Yossarian asked.
“No, then I can’t ground him.”
“You mean there’s a catch?”
“Sure there is a catch,” Doc Daneeka replied. “Catch-22. Anyone who wants to get out of combat duty isn’t really crazy.”
There was only one catch and that was Catch-22, that specified that a concern for one’s own safety in the face of dangers that were real and immediate was the process of a rational mind. Orr was crazy and could be grounded. All he had to do was ask; and as soon as he did, he would no longer be crazy and would have to fly more missions. Orr would be crazy to fly more missions and sane if he didn’t, but if he was sane, he had to fly them. Yossarian was moved very deeply by the absolute simplicity of the clause of Catch-22 and let out a respectful whistle.
“That’s some catch, that Catch-22,” he observed.
“It’s the best there is,” Doc Daneeka replied.
”Daneeka was telling the truth,” ex-P.F.C. Wintergreen admitted. “Forty missions is all you have to fly as far as Twenty-seventh Air Force Headquarters is concerned.”
Yossarian was jubilant. “Then I can go home right? I’ve got forty-eight.”
“No, you can’t go home,” ex-P.F.C. Wintergreen corrected him. “Are you crazy of something?”
“Why not?”
“Catch-22.”
“Catch-22?” Yoassarian was stunned. “What the hell has Catch-22 got to do with it?”
“Catch-22,” Doc Daneeka answered patiently, when Hungry Joe had flown Yossarian back to Pianosa, “says you’ve always got to do what your commanding officer tells you to.”
“But Twenty-seventh Air Force says I can go home with forty missions.”
“But they don’t say you have to go home. And regulations do say you have to obey every order. That’s the catch. Even if the colonel were disobeying a Twenty-seventh Air Force order by making you fly more missions. you’d still have to fly them, or you’d be guilty of disobeying an order of his. And then Twenty-seventh Air Force Headquarters would really jump on you.” Yossarian slumped with disappointment. “Then I really do have to fly the fifty missions don’t I?” he grieved. “The fifty-five,” Doc Daneeka correct him. “What fifty-five?” “The fifty-five the colonel wants all of you to fly.” ”What would they do to me,” he asked in confidential tones, “if I refuse to fly them?” “We’d probably shoot you,” ex-P.F.C. Wintergreen replied. “We?” Yossarian cried in surprise. “What do you mean we? Since when are you on their side?” “If you’re going to be shot, whose side do you expect me to be on?” ex-P.F.C. Wintergreen retorted. ”Give Yossarian all the dried fruit and fruit juices he wants,” Doc Daneeka had written. “He says he has a liver condition.”

From Joseph Heller’s Catch 22