Authors:
Historic Era: Era 8: The Great Depression and World War II (1929-1945)
Historic Theme:
Subject:
June/July 2005 | Volume 56, Issue 3
Authors:
Historic Era: Era 8: The Great Depression and World War II (1929-1945)
Historic Theme:
Subject:
June/July 2005 | Volume 56, Issue 3
Millions of people have seen the movie Patton, which begins with a view of the general standing before a giant American flag giving a speech to his troops. The actor George C. Scott gave a superb performance in this film; all who ever saw the general in action will agree that he came as close to being George S. Patton, Jr., as is humanly possible. The script for the movie speech itself was a fair representation of the talks to soldiers that Patton actually gave on several occasions.
But it was not exactly the speech I remember hearing as a member of the 65th Infantry Division, 3rd Army, as we were about to enter combat in the late winter of 1945, standing in the square of a little French town named Ennery. We were 30 or 40 miles west of Saarlautern, where the 65th was soon to attack the Siegfried Line. That speech was probably never reported, and the reason for that may be found on page 231 of General Omar N. Bradley’s book A Soldier’s Story:
“Few generals could surpass Patton as a field commander. But he had one enemy he could not vanquish, and that was his own quick tongue. It was this unhappy talent of Patton’s for highly quotable crises that caused me to tighten the screws on press censorship at the time he joined my command.
“‘Public relations will cuss me for it,’ I told Bill Kean, ‘but the devil with them. I’ll take the chance. Tell censorship that they are not to pass any direct quotes from any commander without my approval.’”
Since Bradley was Patton’s superior at the time (as his Army group commander), this is why the speech to the 65th Division men almost certainly never saw the light of print or broadcast, for it was full of language that was objectionable, particularly in the climate of the 1940s. In polite society, Patton was said to be an erudite, urbane, perfect gentleman. But, when he spoke to soldiers, his speech was laced with profanity, obscenity, sacrilege, blasphemy—anything to make his words memorable.
And it worked. I certainly remembered. Of course, I had had some training in remembering. I had worked for a while as a newspaper reporter in the days when there were no portable tape recorders. Everything had to be written down on the folded sheets of copy paper we carried in our pockets. Early that evening—six or seven hours after hearing Patton’s speech—I went back to my billet and wrote it all down. There is something about hearing such a talk on an ominously gray winter day with war just over the horizon that sharpens one’s senses remarkably. The speech had made such an impression on me that I am sure I got it down almost word for word.
In his book Patton: A Genius for War, Carlo D’Este includes a chapter (38) titled “The Speech.” This reproduces parts of speeches given to troops just before the