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The Patton Legend: How It Started and Grew
Army Magazine ^ | July 04 | Martin Blumenson

Posted on 06/25/2004 8:31:46 PM PDT by xzins

MARTIN ELLJMENSON is a contributing editor of ARMY Magazine. He is the editor of The Patton Papers and the author of Patton: The Man Behind the Legend, 1885-1945.

When George C. Scott, in an Army uniform. bedecked with medals, appeared in front of that enormous American flag at the opening of the movie “Patton he sent an immediate message to his audience. He wanted everyone to know that he was portraying a legend. In Scott’s depiction from the beginning’ of the film., Gen. George S. Patton Jr. was a man larger than life, a mythical giant in American folk lore, a hero, almost a god. ] Seeing Scott as Patton made hearts beat faster. It provoked gasps of recognition on the part of viewers who recalled Patton’s place in American history and culture. His exploits on the battlefield were magnificent. His leadership was natural and compelling. According to Dwight D. Eisenhower, Patton had been “indispensable” for victory in World War 11.

There is a mystique about Gen. Patton. Part of it comes from the things that Patton actually did. Part of it stems from stories, mostly exaggerated, told about him.

Part of it arises from the overwhelming awe he inspired and still does.

How did the Patton legend start? What nourished it? As Field Marshal Erwin Rommel once said, a commander can work wonders “if he has had the wit to create some sort of legend around himself.”

There were intimations of greatness, perhaps merely eccentricity, in Patton’s performance at West Point. He earned his letter in the hurdles but was better known for his prowess with the broadsword. Working the pits on the firing range, he suddenly stood erect in a hail of bullets to see for himself whether he had overcome the sensation of fear. He played foot ball, never made the varsity, yet was so reckless in practice that he broke both arms. He was always faultlessly dressed, and his exaggerated attention to his attire covered a multitude of character deficiencies that he was certain he suffered. For example, “I have always fancied myself a coward,” he confessed to his father.

At a lecture on electricity, when the professor demonstrated an induction coil with a 12-inch spark, a student asked whether death would result if the spark passed through someone’s body The professor invited the young man to experiment, but he refused. Patton’s curiosity aroused, he confronted the professor after class and said that he would submit. It hardly hurt, but his arm was stiff for a week.

What struck his fellows most was the seriousness with which he regarded the military profession. When cadets marched from one class to another on campus, there was inevitably subdued joshing and joking. “When I am in command,” Patton wrote, “the foolishness stops.” The legend began at his first duty station several months after graduation. At Fort Sheridan, near Chicago, the young lieutenant on stable duty “found a horse not tied and after looking up the man at the other end ... I cussed him and then told him to run down and tie the horse and then run back. This makes the other men laugh at him and so is an excellent punishment. The man did not under stand me or thought he would dead be so he started to walk fast. I got mad and yelled, ‘Run, damn you. Run.’ He did, but then I got to thinking that it was an insult I had put on him, so I called him up before the men who heard me swear and begged his pardon.” For an officer to apologize to an enlisted man in public was unheard of, and the soldiers must have discussed the incident at length in the barracks. What sort of person was this lieutenant?

A few months later, the enlisted men saw something even stranger: but this time they had only admiration for Patton’s behavior. He was drilling his cavalry soldiers as he rode his horse when something spooked the animal, and he bucked. Patton was thrown. He landed on his hand and knee.

He remounted at once. The horse bucked again, then went down. Patton stayed on him and, as soon as be got his leg out from under the beast, stood across the animal. With Patton in the saddle and leaning forward, the horse arose, reared back his head, and struck Patton on the eyebrow, breaking the skin.

He was unaware of the injury “until I saw the blood running down my sleeve.” Writing to his mother, he said, “I hated to pay any attention to it so kept on drilling for about 20 minutes without even wiping my face.” He looked, he said, “like a stuck pig.” At the end of the session, he dismissed the men, then went to the troop headquarters and washed his face. He taught his scheduled class at the noncommissioned officers school.

After that, he attended his own class. Finally he saw the doctor and had the cut stitched closed.

The witnesses were more than impressed by the officer who carried on stoically despite bleeding like a stuck pig. The story made its rounds as it flashed through the barracks, gaining increasingly lurid details. But the overriding thought was: here was a leader one could count on when the going got rough.

He stayed at Fort Sheridan two years, a shorter than normal tour, for he aspired to be elsewhere, specifically, Washington, DC, where the important people lived, “nearer God,” as he said. His connections, plus those of his wife, engineered the transfer. They were both happy to be out of the provinces, away from the dust and the mud of a typical Army post.

Arriving in the nation’s capital in December 1911, Patton quickly learned of the Metropolitan Club’s high social standing and joined. He and his wife became members of the chic Chevy Chase Club. He soon met and rode horses for exercise with the Secretary of War, Henry L. Stimson, the U.S. Army Chief of Staff, Gen. Leonard Wood and other dignitaries who occupied lofty positions in government and the military.

After four months at Fort Myer across the Potomac River in Virginia, Patton was being considered for a most interesting duty. He was being talked about as a possible participant in the Olympic Games to he held in Stockholm that year, 1912. Athletic, likable, hand some and soldierly in appearance, Patton was selected to compete in the Modern Pentathlon. The contest, created to test the fitness of the man at war, consisted of five events: pistol shooting, swimming, fencing, riding a steeple chase and running cross-country.

He began training at once early in May, went on a diet and abstained from alcohol and tobacco. Accompanied by his wife, his parents and his sister, he sailed from New York in mid-June. They reached Stockholm at the end of the month. The pentathlon started on July 7 and lasted a week. Patton finished fifth among 42 contestants.

Although most of the press coverage in American newspapers went to Jim Thorpe, the great American Indian athlete from Carlisle, Pa., who dominated the track and field events, Patton received publicity in magazines and newspapers. His photograph appeared. His stature in the Army rose.

Patton had asked all the fencers he met who the best one was in Europe. They named Adjutant Clery, master of arts and instructor of fencing at the Cavalry School in Saumur, France, the professional champion of Europe in the foil, the dueling sword and the saber. After several days of sight seeing in Germany, Patton and his wife traveled to Saumur. For two weeks, until they had to board their ship in August to return home, Patton took daily lessons from Clery not only to perfect his fencing but also to learn how Clery taught his students.

Once again in Washington, Patton wrote a report to the Adjutant General and stressed the advantages of Clery’s system over the methods used in the U.S. Army. The paper was lucid and well written, and it eventually advanced his career. His superior officers at Fort Myer wanted him to expand his reports on the Olympics and the saber into an article for the Army and Navy Journal. They were talking of adopting a new saber he designed for the cavalry branch.

As his skill and experience as a swordsman gained wider currency, Patton wrote an article published in the Cavalry Journal. In March 1913, as a connoisseur of the sword, he was put on detached service for three days at the Springfield Armory in Massachusetts to make certain that the specifications were followed in the manufacture of the new sword named the Patton saber.

On June 25, 1913, four years out of West Point and still a second lieutenant, Patton received a War Department order directing him to go to France “for the purpose of perfecting yourself in swordsmanship.” His travel was to be at no expense to the government. He was to return to the United States and be at Fort Riley, Kan., no later than October 1.

The campaign he had waged at Fort Myer and the War Department had come to fruition. He had preached the idea of introducing a course in swordsmanship at the Mounted Service School (later renamed the Cavalry School). His published articles on the saber and his work in designing the new model indicated that he should conduct the new course himself.

Patton and his wife sailed in July 1913. They reached Saumur at the end of the month. Patton worked with Clery through August.

They boarded their ship to return home on September 10. For two years at Fort Riley, Patton held the exalted title Master of the Sword. He was the first to be so named. He was still a second lieutenant. He taught swordsmanship at the Cavalry School. He was at the same time a student in the first and second years of the advanced course of study

The outbreak of World War I in Europe in 1914 excited him. Learning that his regiment was to be sent to the Philippine Islands in 1915, and seeing no reason to be on the other side of the globe, Patton used his pull and worked a transfer to the 8th Cavalry, which was stationed at Fort Bliss in El Paso, Texas. In command of the post was Brig. Gen. John J. Pershing.

Several noteworthy events occurred there. Patton passed the promotion tests and became a first lieutenant. His sister Anita visited, and she and Pershing fell in love. Patton came to know Pershing sufficiently well to be appointed an unofficial aide and to accompany Pershing into Mexico on the Punitive Expedition in 1916.

The highlight of what turned out to be a monotonous and boring campaign against Pancho Villa, an endeavor devoid of news worthy items, was Patton’s exploit at the Rubio Ranch. Sent to purchase corn, Patton, traveling in command of three automobiles and nine men, trapped and killed three Villista soldiers in a striking gunfight. Patton’s men strapped the bodies across the hoods of their cars and returned to camp with their trophies. In the absence of anything else resembling news, the correspondents with Pershing played up the incident. For two weeks, the newspapers across the nation featured Patton’s photograph and exuberant remarks, as well as Pershing’s satisfaction.

Patton traveled with Pershing to France in 1917 after America entered the war. He was the first person to join the Tank Corps, American Expeditionary Forces. In command of the light tanks, Patton headed a school and trained his tankers for combat. His trademarks for soldiers -- cleanliness, discipline and military courtesy -- were more than apparent in camp. His soldiers adored him. With high morale, they were anxious and eager to fight, to move forward aggressively and to close with the enemy. They performed exceptionally well when they were committed to battle.

During the St. Mihiel offensive, Patton contributed to his legend. Walking along the front, making sure that his tankers were attacking, he noticed that enemy shells were keeping some of his tanks from crossing a bridge and entering into the Village of Essey. He hurried there and learned that the Germans had mined the structure, preparing it for demolition. Disregarding the information, Patton walked across. Nothing happened. No explosives detonated. The tankers, who had expected Patton to be blown sky high, quickly followed him into the village where numerous enemy soldiers surrendered. Afterwards, when the men talked about Essey, they always enthused, with great admiration, over Patton’s heroism.

At the Meuse-Argonne offensive, Patton again distinguished himself. Together with his orderly and another officer, while machine-gun bullets spattered around them, Patton got soldiers to dig down the sides of two enormous trenches so that five tanks, stopped by the obstacle, could proceed. Miraculously unharmed, they followed the tanks up a small hill. With about 100 infantry soldiers from various units heeding his voice, Patton led them across the top. Incoming machine-gun fire sent them diving to the ground. After a moment, Patton stood. Waving his walking stick and shouting “Let’s go,” he strode forward. Six men were with him, until, one by one, they were wounded or killed. Finally, Patton, too, took a bullet through his thigh. He fell. His orderly, still unhurt, helped him into a shell hole, cut his trousers and bandaged Patton’s wound. Patton continued to direct the battle in his vicinity by indicating the locations of nearby enemy machine-gun positions.

Finally, several hours later when the firing died down, four men carried Patton on a stretcher three kilometers to an ambulance station. He insisted on being driven to the headquarters of the division his tankers were supporting so that he could report on the situation as he saw it. Then he was evacuated to a hospital in the rear.

At the end of the war, Patton was a full colonel. He was decorated with the Distinguished Service Cross for exceptional bravery in combat. He received the Distinguished Service Medal for excellence in performing duties of high responsibility.

During the interwar period, Patton was little known outside the Army. Among the officers, he was regarded as a polo player, a horseman and a yachtsman. His highjinks, exuberance and grandstanding were the marks of an eccentric, a playboy, a socialite. Yet his dedication to his profession remained firm. He read extensively. He exchanged serious ideas with others similarly motivated. He maintained his ability to inspire those who worked with him.

Finally in June 1940, after the Germans overran Poland, Denmark, Norway, Holland, Belgium, Luxembourg and France, with his old friend Henry L. Stimson once again the Secretary of War and his World War I colleague Gen. George C. Marshall the U.S. Army Chief of Staff, Patton was called to serve again with tanks.

His rise in command was rapid, from brigade to division to corps. He opened and ran a vast desert training center in the southwestern part of the United States, and, according to the soldiers who passed through, Patton was everywhere at once. During the maneuvers of 1941, he again became prominent. Stories about him as well as his photograph appeared in the press, and the legends arose around him. He supposedly purchased fuel for his tanks from gas stations and bought sparkplugs and spare parts from Sears Roebuck. His profanity became explosive.

His landings in Morocco heightened his fame. His service in Tunisia turned a defeated and demoralized II Corps around and made it proficient for battle in 11 days. He ran wild in Sicily and entered Messina ahead of Gen. Bernard L. Montgomery. He transformed a local breakthrough in Normandy into a theater-wide breakout and pursuit of the enemy almost to the German border. He swung his Third Army 90 degrees to the north, no mean feat, and, without prior reconnaissance, over roads slippery with ice and fields covered with snow, relieved the surrounded and besieged Americans in Bastogne. He slashed into Germany, Austria and Czechoslovakia.

Shortly after the end of the war, in December 1945, a freak automobile accident fatally injured him. He lingered for 11 days before dying in the hospital. During that pause before his death, the news media around the world reminded their readers and listeners at length of Patton’s achievements, of his personality, of his legendary being.

In August 1944, a radio broadcaster had described Patton in extravagant fashion. “A fiction writer couldn’t create him. History itself hasn’t matched him. He’s colorful, fabulous. He’s dynamite ... he’s a warring, roaring comet ... his eyes glare and he roars encouragement, orders, advice and oaths all at once ... Yes, Patton will be a legend.”

He was called Blood and Guts, Georgie, Buck Rogers, Flash Gordon, the Green Hornet, the Man from Mars and Iron Pants.

More significantly his reputation reached “the other side of the hill.” Patton was the Allied general in World War II whom the Germans feared most. As Field Marshal Gerd von Rundstedt acknowledged immediately after the war during an interrogation, “Patton, he was your best.”

A friend assessed him shortly after Patton passed away: “He experimented with and cultivated the art of the spectacular just as earnestly and purposefully as he developed his mastery of weapons, tactics, military history and battle psychology ... [He] courted every form of personal danger in order to crush out of his own heart any vestige of the fear which he knew to be the greatest of all enemies in war…he was also made for friendship, for kindly affection and for sympathy with the underdog ... [He leaves] a vacancy that cannot be filled except through reflection upon his heroic example.”

As a member of his Third Army explained, “The true basis of Patton’s esteem among the rank and file ... [ the reason why] he was an eagerly followed commander [was] not because of his theatrics, but simply because he had demonstrated beyond question that he knew how to lick the Germans better than anyone else.”

He has become, in the final analysis, a man of force and of execution, as well as a myth.

July 2004 • ARMY 29


TOPICS: Extended News; Foreign Affairs; Miscellaneous
KEYWORDS: georgespatton; hero; legend; patton; war
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To: SLB
Sounds like he learned a lot from his Dad.

Also sounds like you stayed in the Knox area. It was my outprocessing point when I retired. Maybe should have stayed there or gone down to Ft Campbell area (Tenn side).

101 posted on 06/26/2004 7:56:06 AM PDT by xzins (Retired Army and Supporting Bush/Cheney 2004!)
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To: Ax
Fragment of a letter from Patton to his father, published in War Letters by Andrew Carroll. September 20, 1918 Dear Papa We have all been in one fine fight and it was not half so exciting as I had hoped, not as exciting as affairs in Mexico, because there was so much company. When the shelling first started I had some doubts about the advisability of sticking my head over the parapet, but it is just like taking a cold bath, once you get in, it is all right. And I soon got out and sat on the parapet. At seven o clock I moved forward and passed some dead and wounded. I saw one fellow in a shell hole holding his rifle and sitting down. I thought he was hiding and went to cuss him out, he had a bullet over his right eye and was dead.

As my telephone wire ran out at this point I left the adjutant there and went forward with a lieutenant and four runners to find the tanks, the whole country was alive with them crawling over trenches and into the woods. It was fine but I could not see my right battalion so went to look for it, in so doing we passed through several town under shell fire but none did more than throw dust on us. I admit that I wanted to duck and probably did at first but soon saw the futility of dodging fate, besides I was the only officer around who had left on his shoulder straps and I had to live up to them. It was much easier than you would think and the feeling, foolish probably, of being admired by the men lying down is a great stimulus.

I walked right along the firing line of one brigade. They were all in shell holes except the general (Douglas Mcarthur) who was standing on a little hill. I joined him and the creeping barrage came along toward us, but it was very thin and not dangerous. I think each one wanted to leave but each hated to say so, so we let it come over us. The infantry were held up at a town so I happened to find some tanks and sent them through it. I walked behind and some boshe surrendered to me. At the next town all but one tank was out of sight, and as the infantry would not go in I got on top of the tank to hearten the driver and we went in, that was most exciting as there were plenty of boshe. We took thirty.

On leaving the town I was still sitting sidewise on top of the tank with my legs hanging down on the left side when all at once I noticed the paint start to chip off the other side. At the same time, I noticed machine guns. I dismounted in haste and got in a shell hole, which was none to large. Every time I started to get out the boshe shot at me. I was on the point of getting scared as I was about a hundred yards ahead of the infantry and all alone in the field. If I went back the infantry would think I was running and there was no reason to go forward alone. Al the time the infernal tank was going on alone as the men had not noticed my hurried departure. At last the bright thought occurred to me that I could move across the front in an oblique direction and not appear to run, yet at the same time get back. This I did, listening for the machine guns with all my ears, and laying down in a great hurry when I heard them. In this manner I hoped to beat the bullets to me. Sometime I will figure the speed of sounds and bullets and see if I was right. It is the only use I know of that math has ever been to me.

102 posted on 06/26/2004 8:23:57 AM PDT by DeaconBenjamin
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To: SLB

For later reading.


103 posted on 06/26/2004 8:27:38 AM PDT by yarddog
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To: xzins

Muttly fences.

Broadswords are those giant, 2-handed things bearing virtually no resemblance to an 18th. century sabre, or any edged weapon used in the last 300-400 years. I don't think the guy knows his a$$ from his elbow, but can write, and has the job.

Also, he omitted my favorite legend...that after our future general stood up in the target pit, he took his own pulse, and was dismayed to find it had risen, and went away troubled. Now THAT is training, from the innermost self...a warrior.

The Patton Sabre is essentially a straightened one. The originals were curved, so that like a butcher shop meat slicer, they could strike a passing, cutting blow from horseback, and not just break in half. He must have realized that the days of horse-mounted cavalry sword work were now outmoded by repeating firearms, and the remaining use for the sword was dismounted combat, which entails more point-work, like the traditional, civilian straight sword --the rapier, or epee. BTW, there never was a "using" foil, it was designed only for, well, I can't say "practice," because it does not re;ate to any real weapon. Using foil techniques with a real sword in a real swordfight can and will get a person killed or maimed. This is why many of us cringe and complain when, especially while watching "Pirate" movies, we are disappointed to see our hero prancing around with his left hand up in the air, limp-wristedly saying..."here I am, slice me off"...which is what would immediately happen in the real world.

The practice Sabre is a thrust and cut weapon, that the Patton Sabre most resembles, and I think is intended to be used the way salon sabre fencing is taught and practiced...dismounted, and face to face. The practice sabre is straight, and great emphasis is placed on covering the strong hand with the bell, since it is assumed an opponent will also be armed with a sword, which may not be the case from a mounted position, while riding past the opposition.

Well....time to get back to actually reading the rest of the article.


104 posted on 06/26/2004 8:35:38 AM PDT by PoorMuttly ("BE Reagan !")
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To: Centurion2000; All
Not to completely slam on him as I am a huge admirer of Patton, but they left out his participation in the Bonus March. I wonder why ?
Bonus March

For those not familiar

105 posted on 06/26/2004 8:46:07 AM PDT by ChibisHologram
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To: PoorMuttly
The Highland Officer's Broadsword is the 4th weapon down.

Royal 'Rifles' and 'Light Infantry' Sword,
1912 Pattern Cavalry Officer's Dress Sword,
Royal Naval 'Master at Arms' Dress Sword
Highland Officer's Broadsword,
Royal Artillery Officer's Dress Sword,
1897 Pattern Infantry Officer's Dress Sword,
Royal Air Force Officer's Dress Sword.

Found here at: Imperial Sword, London

106 posted on 06/26/2004 9:19:50 AM PDT by xzins (Retired Army and Supporting Bush/Cheney 2004!)
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To: PhilDragoo

Now hear this: all posters/lurkers are ordered to see graphic in post #21.

That is all!


107 posted on 06/26/2004 9:24:21 AM PDT by VOA
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To: xzins

I don't know why they called it that, other than it was straight, as broadswords are. So, I suppose this is what the author meant. O.K. This is better. I am still not convinced that they taught its use at West Point...but would like to know...so I opened this can of worms. Personal trademark behavior! I learn a lot though...should I survive.


108 posted on 06/26/2004 9:26:53 AM PDT by PoorMuttly ("BE Reagan !")
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To: sharktrager

Yep. Good shootin' goes with the name.


109 posted on 06/26/2004 10:04:48 AM PDT by patton (I wish we could all look at the evil of abortion with the pure, honest heart of a child.)
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To: DeaconBenjamin

LOLOL. I have a degree in math.


110 posted on 06/26/2004 10:24:15 AM PDT by patton (I wish we could all look at the evil of abortion with the pure, honest heart of a child.)
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To: PoorMuttly

My guess is that it's called a broadsword for little more reason than to preserve a tradition.

Were I to hazard a guess, I'd say that the groove line must be centered and the blade must be bilateral from the center out. Imagine an old broadsword narrowing and narrowing for obvious reasons....and then you have this.

I'd also guess that anything European in the early 1900's was seriously copied here in the ex-colonies.


111 posted on 06/26/2004 11:01:32 AM PDT by xzins (Retired Army and Supporting Bush/Cheney 2004!)
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To: xzins

Got it. Now I perceive the development.

What a great resource FR is...and it's the people who are the best part.

Now back to the article. I hope to finish it this week.


112 posted on 06/26/2004 11:49:49 AM PDT by PoorMuttly ("BE Reagan !")
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To: xzins

It is clear to me that his view of tanks was identical to his view of swords: advance, go up to the enemy and just kill him, on the spot. No positioning for his surrender, feigning with pinprick attacks, retreats...no, just thunder up and destroy him as suddenly as you can. This is swordsmanship...the spirit of it.

That Claymore-type broadsword is a tank compared to the thin rapiers carried by civilians on the street. I had forgotten they were still called broadswords. It has enough belly to chop and thrust through ribs, whereas the rapier may break if not presented horizontally, to get between them. Civilians' usual concern is single or just a few assailants. Martial users must be prepared for extended combat against heavily armed and protected opponents, and their horses. This sword was probably what Patton trained with, as well as the cavalry saber, and the "broadsword" appealed to him most...more a stabbing weapon...and the Patton Saber was a combination of the two...a natural development, and an excellent idea.


113 posted on 06/26/2004 12:20:12 PM PDT by PoorMuttly ("BE Reagan !")
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