“I know nothing of my immediate future, but trust that I’ll have a chance to kill somebody soon.”
HIS ADVANCEMENT to the corps command prompted him to send letters to those responsible – Marshall, McNair, Devers, Stimson, and others.
Stimson assured him that he had earned his promotion on his own merits – as a result of his fine performance of duty. He thought that Patton was sure to have all the active combat service he could possibly desire.
Patton was, of course, delighted. Yet he parted from the 2d Armored Division with real regret. He had shaped the men into a reflection of his public image, the warrior. By remaining at the head of the division, he could hope to lead it one day in battle. As corps commander, he was in the ranks of the “high command,” where the direction of subordinate commanders was usually more important than the personal leadership of men at war.
His farewells to the division were sentimental and sincere. He asked Crittenberger, who succeeded him, to have his personal message read to all members:
I desire to express to all ranks my sincere appreciation of your magnificent performance. Your untiring effort in training has made you a great division. When you meet the enemy, the same spirit of devotion will make you feared and famous. I shall be very proud of you.
A letter from a mother brought him close to tears:
We have a son in your division . . . and because of this you are no stranger to us . . . When we are facing the reality of war with all of its demands, Russell tells us not to worry, that they are ready and anxious to “follow their General Patton into the field” – confident that you can take them through. Recognizing you, not only as a great leader but a real personality, I ask you to accept a humble tribute from a soldier’s mother – who only human, cannot help but fear the future for her son. With a special prayer for my own boy, my prayers will also follow you and your men . . . I have learned that the army is not a “machine” (the average civilian conception) but is made up of fine, kind and interested human beings . . . [with] gratitude for the fine leadership and example [you] set in the armored forces.
Throwing himself into his new job, he explained his belief in automatic movements:
In order to habituate men to the orderly entrance and exit from armored vehicles, a specific drill analogous to stand to horse, prepare to mount, and mount as used in the cavalry and field artillery [ought] to be used. If this is not done, men who are surprised during a rest by air bombardment or shelling may become confused and in attempting to enter the vehicles quickly will simply produce a jam . . .
Men do in emergencies what they are habituated to do in peace time. And therefore, I believe that simple movements . . . are essential because in battles some or all of these movements will be executed under fire and the habit of doing them in peace time . . . produces in the men the idea of watching for signals and orders and instantly obeying them.
Letter, GSP, Jr., to Eisenhower, War Plans Division, War Department, January 22, 1942
Dear Ike: . . . After you have gotten the war plans in shape, you had better fix to get [command of] a division in the [Armored] Corps ...
I further appreciate your advertising of the ad Armored Division, and I am sincere in believing with you that it is ready to fight anywhere, any time.
Letter, GSP, Jr., to Brig. Gen. Geoffrey Keyes, 3d Armored Division, Camp Polk, La., January 24, 1942
My dear Jeff: I am enclosing for your remarks the draft of the memorandum which I propose to send out to division commanders . . . assigned to this corps. You will recognize most of the stuff as the result of our mutual collaboration. Are there any other points which you think should be brought out, or have I infringed on the sacred rights of division commanders? Please let me know at your convenience ...
So far I have had nothing to do except write this creed. I am also engaged in making up a note-book covering various things such as movement to ports of debarkation [for shipment overseas], combat orders, landing on hostile shores, etc . . . If you have any better ideas on this, please let me know . . .
I sincerely miss you a lot.
He was happy to hear from Devers who commended him for his fine training program that stressed battle realism.
In much the same way that his father had lobbied for his appointment to the Military Academy, Patton wrote several letters in behalf of his son George. To Senator Lodge he said he supposed he could write to senators from California and congressmen from Massachusetts, but his experience with Hiram Johnson, “who never even read my letter,” was discouraging. Therefore, he proposed to go to Washington and call personally on those “whom I can probably claim.” His official address was San Gabriel, California,
and all I know of my local congressmen is that one of the more recent ones is now in the penitentiary for selling an appointment for Annapolis.
Please do not consider this long letter a circumlocuous request for an appointment because you have already more than done your part. The purpose of this letter is to get your ideas on the best way to proceed.
Patton went to Washington in February and called on a number of influential people. “I had very little luck,” he informed Devers when he returned.
In March, Patton turned to his brother-in-law, Frederick Ayer:
After carefully canvassing the various methods of obtaining an appointment, and having consulted three very eminent politicians, who are also friends of mine, I am convinced that the only way . . . is to make it worth a congressman’s attention, either through fear or friendship – in other words, what you have to do is called “putting on the heat.”
There were several vacancies from Massachusetts, and Lodge’s secretary would send Ayer a list of congressmen vulnerable to pressure.
In May, Patton had the Hill School certify George’s qualifications to take the West Point entrance examination in June. And he engaged Dr. Jacob R. Silverman of New York to tutor George for the tests.
Shortly before the exam results were announced, Patton wrote a letter of thanks:
My dear Dr. Silverman: . . . I am satisfied that considering the time available, George could not have had more competent instruction nor better psychological influence [than yours]. I sincerely hope that he passes. If, however, he fails to do so, I shall attribute it to Fate, which, after all, plays a very large part in our lives.
George passed. Congressman Thomas J. Flaherty of Masschusetts appointed him.
Letter, GSP, Jr., to his son George, July 13, 1942
Dear George: Your mother and I are very proud of you because you have at last demonstrated to be a money rider – to come accross in a pinch. But you must realize how very close run the thing was as Lord Wellington said of Waterloo. God and Luck were on your side. Both are useful but remember the Virginia adage “That the best trainer is old Doctor Work.”
As to your conduct as a CADET!!!
You do all the getting along.
Dont talk or look smug as if it was an old story to you.
Do your damdest in an ostentatious manner all the time.
Make it a point to always be the best turned out plebe at any formation. Brass polished, trousers pressed, every thing smart. Weapons spotless and get there on time – NOT JUST ON time but WELL AHEAD OF TIME.
Never make excuses whether or not it is your fault.
If you want to be a high ranking make, you must start the first day.
You must NEVER knowingly infringe any regulation. You will get skinned but they will be accidents. No man ever walks the area [in punishment] for an accident. He walks the area for a premeditated crime.
If you truly want to be a make you must dispense with friends or “Buddies.” Be friendly but let the other man make the advances. Your own classmates – the worthless ones will tease you about boning make – admit it.
I repeat to be a make you must be a man not a boy and you must never let up working. You must not be a good fellow or join in “HARMLESS LARKS.” They are the result of an unstable mind.
You will probably have no choice in initial roommates or tent mates. But keep looking for a quiet studious boy or boys for roommates for the winter. The older the men you can pick, the better as roommates. It is usually best not to live with your friends – that makes you loose them. Remember you are a lone wolf.
If some little fart hases you, don’t get mad, do what he says, and take it out on some one else next year. AGAIN NEVER BE LATE, ALWAYS BE WELL DRESSED, DONT BREAK THE REGULATIONS AND DONT BE CARELESS ABOUT ROOM POLICE.
Well we are realy proud of you for the first time in your life. See to it that we stay that way.
Affect [ionately],
Letter, GSP, Jr., to Senator H. C. Lodge, Jr., July 24, 1942
You will be glad to know that George . . . is now a New Cadet. I trust that he can stay there. Maybe, if the war gets worse, the curriculum will get easier.
• • •
Patton was becoming so prominent that Life magazine sent a reporter to study and interview him for a feature article. Patton said he preferred to have nothing printed about him, but asked at least to see the piece before it was published. After showing the draft article to General Surles, chief of public relations, who thought it was “a good idea to publish it,” the editor sent the article to Patton, saying that no personal flattery of Patton was intended but rather that it was important for the American public to have a hero whose 2d Armored Division would soon lead the army in offensive action against the enemy.
Letter, GSP, Jr., to Edward K. Thompson, Associate Editor, Life magazine, February 10, 1942
I deeply appreciate your continued interest in me and the nice things which your great magazine has said about me. But frankly, I hope you will not publish Mr. Field’s article. My reasons for making this request are:
In the first place, I do not believe it paints a just picture of me. The casual reader would think that I am one of the most profane, crude, and vulgar people on earth; because the profanity of fifty years has been compressed into a few pages.
I have always deprecated any mention of what little inherited wealth I possess because I do not believe that wealth acquired through the judicious selection of ancestors is in itself a mark of ability.
Finally, the future of an officer who has been sufficiently fortunate to arrive at the position of a corps commander, a position which, thanks to General Devers, I now hold, must depend for his future advancement upon the opinion of his military equals and superiors, not upon public sentiment. In fact, it has been my observation that untimely or excessive publicity is a great detriment to an officer’s career because people are bound to believe that the publicity was asked for by the officer and that he probably dictated most of it. Now, while you and I know that this is not the case, it is none the less what other people will think.
I know that your magazine has spent quite a lot of time and money in collecting the data for this article. Therefore, when I ask you not to publish it at this time, I realize that I am asking a great favor. However, in fairness to myself I must state that when Mr. Field was here, I asked him not to write the article and only submitted to being interviewed on his promise not to publish it without my approval – a promise which you have very generously complied with. But I must repeat that it is my honest opinion that to publish this article now would not only not help me, but might very well ruin my career and bring to nothing the effort of more than 30 years.
If at some future time I should be fortunate enough to command successfully in battle, people might possibly be interested to know what manner of man I was, or most probably, I had been. Should this occur, an expurgated edition of Field’s article might be appropriate. I have, therefore, gone over the manuscript and removed ninety percent of the profanity, all of the wealth, and many irrelevant statements like the one about the manure at the dinner party. This story, as is the case with several others in the article, is an old Army legend, which for reasons beyond my knowledge, has been attributed to me absolutely without foundation of fact.
Letter, GSP, Jr., to Brig. Gen. A. D. Surles, February 10, 1942
My dear Day: Life Magazine seems very desirous of giving me undesirable publicity. They wrote to Devers, who, of course, had to say he had no objection. But I have talked to him, and both of us think that it would be very inexpedient and very hurtful to me at this time to have the large amount of publicity that Life desires.
I, therefore, propose that you with your inimitable tact tell them that they can’t do it. I am writing them to the same effect, but, of course, I have less influence than you.
I am coming up to Washington at the end of the week . . . and will come in to see if you have done anything to stop this foolishness.
Thanking you and urging you to do your damndest,
Letter, GSP, Jr., to Devers, February 11, 1942
My dear Jake: I am enclosing, for your information, copies of the letters which I wrote yesterday to Day and to Mr. Thompson. I agree that such an article is untimely to be published now. I was so excited about it that after mailing the letter to Surles, I called him on the telephone and asked him to do his best to stop any attempt to publish it. I think that by suggesting to them that they use it as a posthumous article, they will most likely not publish it at this time.
The story did not appear. Devers agreed that a long article in Life might have hurt Patton. He added that a recent piece on Patton in Time magazine was all to the good.
Letter, GSP, Jr., to Walter F. Dillingham, Honolulu, February 2, 1942
I know nothing of my immediate future, but trust that I’ll have a chance to kill somebody soon.
On account of the imminence of the war and the urgings of my friends, I am not playing polo right now, and it would be sort of unfortunate to miss a war for a bad polo game.
Letter, GSP., Jr., to-Col. Harry Whitfield, Middleburg, Va., February 2, I942
What is going to happen to the hunting during the present emergency, it would seem to me that, if possible, it should be kept up if even on a reduced scale because I think that since most of it rests on privilege, it would be a poor idea to let the habit lapse . . .
Beatrice and I succeed in going riding about five times a week and it is absolutely necessary to do so because the history of this and all other wars shows that physical fitness is the prime requisite usually lacking in generals.
Patton made time to read and that month ordered S. L. A. Marshall’s Armies on Wheels and Blitzkrieg, Phillips’ Thoughts of Strategy, Wavell’s Generals and Generalship, and Shirer’s Berlin Diary.
“My famous exalted rank” he wrote Floyd Parks, “seems to be un-remunerative because all I have now is a title and no job.” But he was depending on Parks to see that he got a good assignment.
I should like particularly to be in a position to beat Marshal Rommel because, since no one has licked him yet, I will get more credit when I do, and I feel perfectly confident that I will. This last is not said in the spirit of boasting, but is based on the opinion that no one that has fooled with him has really wanted to fight very much. Whereas, I believe, the I Armored Corps . . . will fight like hell.
Letter, GSP, Jr., to Maj. Gen. Omar N. Bradley, 28th Division, Camp Claiborne, La., February 18, 1942
My dear Omar: . . . During our service together [at Fort Benning] I never was associated with anyone who more whole-heartedly and generously cooperated with everything we worked on together.
Letter, GSP, Jr., to Eisenhower, February 20, 1942
My dear Ike: Of all the many talks I had in Washington, none gave me so much pleasure as that with you. There were two reasons for this. In the first place, you are about my oldest friend. In the second place, your self-assurance and to me, at least, demonstrated ability, gave me a great feeling of confidence in the future. I am very glad that you hold your present position [as Chief of the Operations Division, which acted as a kind of Cabinet for Marshall] and have the utmost confidence that through your efforts we will eventually beat the hell out of those bastards – “You name them; I’ll shoot them!” Devotedly yours,
Letter, Eisenhower to GSP, Jr., February 25, 1942
I don’t have the slightest trouble naming the hellions I’d like to have you shoot; my problem is to figure out some way of getting you to the place you can do it.
Patton wrote to Malin Craig from time to time in behalf of his old comrades in the Tank Corps, trying to help them in their efforts to return to active duty.
Personally, I am of the opinion that older men of experience, who have smelled powder and been wounded, are of more value to the service than mere youthful exuberance, which has not yet been disciplined. However, I seem to be in the minority in this belief.
What he was worrying about was his own age. He sometimes feared that he might be considered too old for combat. As a consequence, he constantly paraded his activity and energy, driving himself as never before, to assure his associates and particularly his superiors that he still had the vitality, along with the experience, to command in battle successfully.
Having had several young officers to serve him as aides, Patton fixed upon Captain Richard N. Jenson, who was from southern California and whose family had known the Pattons, particularly his sister Nita, for many years. Jenson had a sort of shining innocence about him, and Patton appreciated and was fond of him.
Because his rank permitted him to have a second aide, Patton eventually chose one of his old tankers, Alexander C. Stiller. A sergeant in France, Stiller was a rough and unlettered man, and he would serve Patton faithfully, principally as bodyguard.
A massive reorganization of the army took place in February 1942. Immediately under the War Department, all headquarters and units were grouped into three main elements. The Army Ground Forces (AGF) under McNair became responsible for combat training. The Army Air Forces (AAF) under H. H. Arnold directed the aviation. The Army Service Forces (ASF) under Brehon Somervell looked after the supplies and supporting services. This new structure simplified and streamlined the army establishment, abolished the Chiefs of Infantry, Cavalry, and Artillery, and placed the Armored Force, now numbering 150,000 men, under McNair.
Soon afterward, Patton received a new assignment. To a friend at the War Department, he wrote:
I have been detailed to organize and command a Desert Training Area . . . I should deeply appreciate your sending to me . . . any and all information, pamphlets, and what-not, you may have on the minutia of desert fighting, to the end that I may duplicate, so far as is practicable, the situation which exists in the desert of North Africa ...
Pardon me for writing you such a dry letter. We will try to correct the dryness when we see each other.
It was far from clear in whose jurisdiction the new training center would reside. Would Patton remain under Devers and the Armored Force? Or would he now be directly under McNair and the AGF? It turned out to be McNair. But Patton could take no chances. He could not afford to be forgotten. He would remain in close contact with both McNair and Devers, as well as with members of their headquarters, striving always to satisfy them, giving his utmost, working hard to justify his selection for combat overseas.