The Naked and the Dead - Norman Mailer [181]
There had to be a way. Minetta discarded one wild idea after another. He thought of jamming a bayonet into his wound, or of falling off a truck when he went back to headquarters company. He twisted on his cot, and felt pity for himself. He heard a soldier groaning slightly on one of the cots, and this irritated him. He told himself, That guy's gonna flip his lid if he don't shut up.
The idea went through his mind without his phrasing it, and he sat up in excitement, panicky with the fear he might forget it. Oh, that's it, that's it, he said to himself. He became frightened as he thought of how hard it would be. Have I got the guts? he asked himself. He lay motionless, trying to remember what he had heard about soldiers who had got out for that reason, Jesus, a Section Eight, he said to himself. He recalled a soldier in his training platoon, a thin nervous man who had begun to weep on the rifle range when he fired his gun. The soldier had been taken to the hospital, and he heard weeks later that he had been discharged. Oh, man, Minetta said to himself. He felt happy for a moment as if he were actually out of the service. I'm as smart as any of these guys, I can work it. Nervous shock, that's the story, nervous shock. I got wounded, didn't I? You'd think the Army would discharge a guy after he got wounded, but all they do is patch him up and send him back. Cannon fodder, that's all they care about us. Minetta felt righteous.
His mood ebbed, and he became frightened again. I wish I could talk to Polack, he'd know how to work it. Minetta looked at his hands. I'm as good a man as Polack. I can be out while he's still talking about it. He held his forehead. They'll only keep me here a couple of days, and then they'll send me to another hospital where they keep the loonies. If I get there, I'll be able to copy them. Abruptly, he was depressed again. That doc is watching me, I'm gonna have a tough time of it. Minetta hobbled over to a table in the center of the tent, and picked up a magazine. If I get out, he told himself, I could write Polack a letter and say, "Who's crazy now?" Minetta began to giggle as he thought of Polack's face when he read that. It's just a question of guts, he said to himself.
He lay down and remained without moving for half an hour, holding the magazine over his face. The sun had heated the tent until it felt like a steam room, and Minetta was weak and miserable. A tension increased inside him, and suddenly, without allowing himself to think, he stood up and shrieked, "Fug yez all."
"Take it easy," a soldier said from a nearby cot.
Minetta threw his magazine at him, and screamed, "There's a Jap outside the fuggin tent, there's a Jap right over there, right over there." He looked about wildly, and shouted, "Where's a gun, gimme a gun." He was shaking with excitement. He picked up his rifle, and pointed it through the door of the tent. "There's the Jap, there he is," he screamed, and fired the rifle. He heard it numbly, a little amazed at his audacity. I ought to be an actor, went through his mind. He waited, expecting the soldiers to grab him, but no one moved. They were watching him warily, frozen with astonishment and fear on their cots. "Get rid of your guns, men, they're attacking," he said, and threw his gun to the ground. He kicked it once, and then went over to his cot, which he picked up and hurled down again. He threw himself in the dirt and began to scream. A soldier fell on top of him, and Minetta struggled for a moment and then relaxed. He could hear men shouting, and the sounds of footsteps running toward him. I did it, I bet, he told himself. He began to tremble, and allowed some spittle to form on his lips. That's work. He had a picture of a madman he had seen once in a movie