The story of the dead man in Yossarian's tent is grimly ironic rather than amusing. The distorted logic of the Army explains its mystery. Upon arrival at the squadron, a replacement pilot named Lieutenant Mudd initially entered the operations tent, looking for the orderly tent where he planned to check in. Because the squadron was temporarily short of men, the lieutenant was immediately sent on a bombing mission. He was killed over Orvieto within two hours of his arrival, his body blown to pieces and never found. Because the lieutenant never officially signed in, the military's position is that he was never there. The dead man's belongings, not the dead man himself, are in Yossarian's tent. They cannot be processed because the young officer — and thus his possessions — never officially arrived. The story is revealing and ironic but not even remotely "funny." It is sobering, a little frightening, and deadly serious.
Heller's satire often is comic. But sometimes it exposes the horror of situations as well as their irony. Clevinger's trial before the Action Board features some very entertaining dialogue; after we finish laughing, though, we're left with the unamusing fact that he is found guilty because he is accused. Yossarian's friends are dying because Colonel Cathcart keeps changing the definition of a tour of duty. The numbers are abstract, but the deaths are real. The author's passionate indignation reveals horror and corruption and sometimes tragedy as well as comedy.
