In helpful pantomime, the guard directed him to slip the loop over his head to hang the ticket around his neck and down over his breast. The name above the piping of his pocket read A. SCHROEDER."There's an elevator, sir, if you want to go directly.""What's down there?""You're supposed to know, sir.""Your name is Schroeder?""Yes, sir. Arthur Schroeder.""That's fucking funny." The soldier said nothing as Yossarian studied him. "Were you ever in the air corps?"""No, sir.""How old are you, Schroeder?""I'm a hundred and seven.""That's a good number. How long have you been here?""Since 1900.""Hmmmmm. You were about seventeen when you enrolled?""Yes, sir. I came in with the Spanish-American War.""These are all lies, aren't they?""Yes, sir. They are.""Thank you for telling me the truth.""I always tell the truth, sir.""Is that another lie?""Yes, sir. I always lie.""That can't be true then, can it? Are you from Crete?""No, sir. I'm from Athens, Georgia. I went to school in Ithaca, New York. My home is now in Carthage, Illinois.""Is that so?""Yes, sir.
