Additionally, Henry tells us that his declaration of love for Catherine is a lie. "I did not love Catherine Barkley nor had any idea of loving her," he elaborates, comparing their affair to a bridge game. He seems almost boyish at this point in the story, and in a way that isn't necessarily appealing or admirable.
Remember, however, that Henry does not participate in the tormenting of the priest in his unit. He perhaps recognizes that the chaplain stands for something, unlike the cynical, nihilistic officers who taunt him. Henry himself doesn't believe in much of anything yet, but his refusal to join in the ritual of priest-baiting shows us that he respects those who do and that he has potential in this regard. Still, he is uncommitted enough at this point in the story that he can miss an evening with Catherine altogether because he is drinking with his fellow officers. On the other hand, he does regret doing so afterwards. Henry is growing, and growing closer to Catherine.
Just prior to receiving his war wound, Henry is still talking abstractly about bravery (though, significantly, he does admit after the first shelling to being scared). In a bit of foreshadowing that will prove ironic, he argues against giving up: "It would only be worse if we stopped fighting." He says that defeat is worse than war itself. As a result of his own intense pain, however, and the trauma of witnessing of the death of a comrade (not to mention the scene in which he is soaked by the blood of a dying soldier), Henry will no longer be able to deny his involvement in this war or its potential to affect him. He has therefore grown closer to Catherine.
