CHAPTER 18
The Slapping Incident

I have been a passanger floating on the river of destiny. At the moment I can’t see around the next bend, but I guess it will be all right

THE “PERFECT CAMPAIGN” was soon to be marred. For only a few days would Patton savor the bittersweet joy of the aftermath, the euphoria of success combined with the sadness of completion – the delicious consideration of achievement to be examined and cherished.

He put aside his sorrow over the losses among his men. He was always aware of the hurt of combat, but he never brooded over the inevitable costs of war. They were personally too painful for him, and besides, to be too sensitive might adversely affect his generalship.

It was good to relax and recall, to remember sailing out of the Algiers harbor toward a great adventure, to live again the fight at Gela, to think of the confrontation with Alexander, to reflect on the pressure maintained on commanders, to be grateful for winning Messina, to be proud of the American soldiers, who had proved beyond doubt their combat effectiveness.

Messages of congratulation poured in. From President Roosevelt: “All of us are thrilled . . . My thanks and enthusiastic approbation.” Alexander: “My sincerest admiration for not only your recent great feat of arms in taking Messina, but for the speed and skill you have shown in the Sicilian operation. Your country will be very proud of you and so am I to have the honor of having under my command such magnificent troops.” Marshall: “You have done a grand job of leadership and your corps and division commanders and their people have made Americans very proud of their army and confident of the future.” Cunningham: “It has been a joy to watch the speed and dash of the Seventh Army.” Montgomery: “The Eighth sends its warmest congratulations to you and your splendid Army for the way you captured Messina and so ended the campaign in Sicily.” Hewitt: “The Navy is proud to have been able to participate.”

Yet Patton worried about the future. Where was he next to be employed? What would happen to the Seventh Army?

Alexander said that the Seventh Army was to rest and also to train for operations in similar terrain, thereby suggesting a commitment on the mainland of Italy. Eisenhower said that the Seventh Army was to have no place in the operations on the Italian mainland. What of the Channel crossing being planned for the spring? Would Patton spearhead the amphibious assault? Would he take part in the invasion at all?

Instructions he received disturbed him. He was to retain a few essential units such as antiaircraft to garrison Sicily properly, and to send practically everything else to Clark’s Fifth Army. Why would the Seventh Army be broken up – dispersed and dissipated – unless there was no further mission for it? And yet Eisenhower had promised that Patton would not remain in Sicily in the backwater of the war.

It was all rather mystifying and worrisome, particularly since he had achieved such success. He felt that he deserved to continue his exploits. Why was he being put on the shelf?


Letter, GSP, Jr., to Marshall, August 18, 1943

I am at a loss to find words with which to express my amazement at the ability of the American soldier to surmount obstacles . . .

Of course, this morning everyone feels considerably let down, as we do not know what the Seventh Army is going to do or when. However, I think a few weeks rest, while not vitally necessary, is desirable, both in order to let the men restore their normal resilience and also in order to perform the necessary maintenance on the Ordnance and Quartermaster equipment.

It was a great privilege to have the honor of commanding the Seventh Army, and I trust that the results we have obtained will appear satisfactory to you.


Letter, GSP, Jr., to his sister Nita, August 19, 1943

We are now sinking back into a state of innocuous desuetude but will probably snap out of it in about a month, although just where our next operation will be I do not know. However, my remark, quoted in the papers, that I am personally willing to kill Germans at any place at any time, still holds. We have certainly killed an awful lot of them in this show.


He wrote Bradley

to make a permanent record of my frequently expressed admiration for and appreciation of the magnificent loyalty and superior tactical ability you have evinced throughout the campaign of Sicily.

He thanked Davidson

for your constant gallant and generous assistance . . . of critical importance in the rapid and successful advance on Messina.

He wrote Eisenhower to “salute you as the Conqueror of Sicily.”

He told his cousin Arvin H. Brown:

This campaign . . . will, I believe, go down in history as a damn near perfect example of how to wage war. Why I was selected as the vessel to give the illustration, I do not know, but I certainly appreciate the opportunity.

But he fretted over the uncertainty ahead even as he took pleasure in turning over in his mind his triumphs.

All this, his past accomplishments and his future usefulness, suddenly came into serious question.

The first intimation he had of impending disaster was a cable he received from Eisenhower, dated August 20:

General Lucas will arrive at Palermo airfield between five and five thirty this afternoon. It is highly important that you personally meet General Lucas and give your full attention to the message that he will bring you. In the event that it is absolutely impossible for you to meet him personally, be certain to have transportation awaiting him and leave word as to the place where he can reach you quickest.

Before Lucas arrived, Brigadier General Frederick A. Blesse, the Chief Surgeon, AFHQ, showed up. He had come from Algiers to look into the health of the troops in Sicily, and Eisenhower ordered him to deliver a personal and secret letter from Eisenhower to Patton and also to investigate the charges made in that letter.


Letter, Eisenhower to GSP, Jr., August ij, 1943 (delivered by Blesse)

I am attaching a report which is shocking in its allegations against your personal conduct. I hope you can assure me that none of them is true; but the detailed circumstances communicated to me lead to the belief that some ground for the charges must exist. I am well aware of the necessity for hardness and toughness on the battlefield. I clearly understand that firm and drastic measures are at times necessary in order to secure the desired objectives. But this does not excuse brutality, abuse of the sick, nor exhibition of uncontrollable temper in front of subordinates.

In the two cases cited in the attached report, it is not my present intention to institute any formal investigation. Moreover, it is acutely distressing to me to have such charges as these made against you at the very moment when an American Army under your leadership has attained a success of which I am extremely proud. I feel that the personal services you have rendered the United States and the Allied cause during the past weeks are of incalculable value; but nevertheless, if there is a very considerable element of truth in the allegations accompanying this letter, I must so seriously question your good judgment and your self discipline as to raise serious doubts in my mind as to your future usefulness. I am assuming, for the moment, that the facts in the case are far less serious than appears in this report, and that whatever truth is contained in these allegations reports an act of yours when under the stress and strain of winning a victory, you were thoughtless rather than harsh. Your leadership of the past few weeks has, in my opinion, fully vindicated to the War Department and to all your associates in arms my own persistence in upholding your pre-eminent qualifications for the difficult task to which you were assigned. Nevertheless, you must give to this matter of personal deportment your instant and serious consideration to the end that no incident of this character can be reported to me in the future, and I may continue to count upon your assistance in military tasks.

In Allied Headquarters there is no record of the attached report or of my letter to you, except in my own secret files. I will expect your answer to be sent to me personally and secretly. Moreover, I strongly advise that, provided there is any semblance of truth in the allegations in the accompanying report, you make in the form of apology or other such personal amends to the individuals concerned as may be within your power, and that you do this before submitting your letter to me.

No letter that I have been called upon to write in my military career has caused me the mental anguish of this one, not only because of my long and deep personal friendship for you but because of my admiration for your military qualities, but I assure you that conduct such as described in the accompanying report will not be tolerated in this theater no matter who the offender may be.


The accompanying report:


Letter, Lt. Col. Perrin H. Long, Medical Corps, to The Surgeon, NATOUSA, August 16, 1943, subject: Mistreatment of Patients in Receiving Tents of the 15th and 93d Evacuation Hospitals

Exhibit No. 1 – Pvt. Charles H. Kuhl, L Company, 26th Infantry, 1st Division, was seen in the . . . aid station on August 2, 1943 . . . where a diagnosis of “Exhaustion” was made . . . He was evacuated to C Company, 1st Medical Battalion. There a note was made on the patient’s E.M.T. [Emergency Medical Tag] that he had been admitted to Company C three times for “Exhaustion” during the Sicilian Campaign. From C Company he was evacuated to the clearing company . . . There he was put in “quarters” and was given sodium mytal . . . On 3 August ‘43, the following note appears on the E.M.T. “Psycho-neurosis anxiety state – moderate severe (soldier has been twice before in hospital within ten days. He can’t take it at the front, evidently. He is repeatedly returned.)” . . . He was evacuated to the 15th Evacuation Hospital. While he was waiting in the receiving tent . . . Lt. Gen. George S. Patton, Jr., came into the tent with the commanding officer and other medical officers . . . The General spoke to the various patients in the receiving tent and especially commended the wounded men. Then he came to Pvt. Kuhl and asked him what was the matter. The soldier replied, “I guess I can’t take it.” The General immediately flared up, cursed the soldier, called him all types of a coward, then slapped him across the face with his gloves and finally grabbed the soldier by the scruff of his neck and kicked him out of the tent. The soldier was immediately picked up by corpsmen and taken to a ward tent. There he was found to have a temperature of 102.2 degrees F and he gave a history of chronic diarrhea for about one month, having at times as high as ten or twelve stools a day. The next day his fever continued and a blood smear was found to be positive for malarial parasites. The final disposition diagnosis was chronic dysentery and malaria. This man had been in the Army eight months and with the 1st Division since about June 2d.

Exhibit No. 2 – Pvt. Paul G. Bennett, C Battery, 17 th Field Artillery, was admitted to the 93d Evacuation Hospital . . . 10 August ‘43. This patient was a 21 year old boy who had served four years in the regular Army. His unit had been with II Corps since March and he had never had any difficulties until August 6th, when his buddy was wounded. He could not sleep that night and felt nervous. The shells going over him bothered him. The next day he was worried about his buddy and became more nervous. He was sent down to the rear echelon by a battery aid man and there the medical officer gave him some medicine which made him sleep, but still he was nervous and disturbed. On the next day the medical officer ordered him to be evacuated, although the boy begged not to be evacuated because he did not want to leave his unit.


Many years later, Dr. Donald E. Currier recalled that Bennett wanted to return to his unit although he “had a temperature and he was sick.” Showing symptoms of dehydration, he was fatigued, confused, weak, and listless.


Lt. General George S. Patton, Jr., entered the receiving tent and spoke to all the injured men. The next patient was sitting huddled up and shivering. When asked what his trouble was, the man replied, “It’s my nerves” and began to sob. The General then screamed at him, “What did you say?” The man replied, “It’s my nerves, I can’t stand the shelling any more.” He was still sobbing. The General then yelled at him, “Your nerves, hell; you are just a Goddamned coward, you yellow son of a bitch.” He then slapped the man and said, “Shut up that Goddamned crying. I won’t have these brave men here who have been shot at seeing a yellow bastard sitting here crying.” He then struck the man again, knocking his helmet liner off and into the next tent. He then turned to the admitting officer and yelled, “Don’t admit this yellow bastard; there’s nothing the matter with him. I don’t have the hospitals cluttered up with these sons of bitches who haven’t got the guts to fight.” He then turned to the man again, who was managing to sit at attention though shaking all over and said, “You’re going back to the front lines and you may get shot and killed, but you’re going to fight. If you don’t, I’ll stand you up against a wall and have a firing squad kill you on purpose. In fact,” he said, reaching for his pistol, “I ought to shoot you myself, you Goddamned whimpering coward.” As he left the tent, the General was still yelling back to the receiving officer to send that yellow son of a bitch back to the front line. Nurses and patients attracted by the shouting and cursing came from adjoining tents and witnessed this disturbance.

The deleterious effects of such incidents upon the wellbeing of patients, upon the professional morale of hospital staffs, and upon the relationship of patient to physician are incalculable.

It is imperative that immediate steps be taken to prevent a recurrence of such incidents.


Demaree Bess, a correspondent for the Saturday Evening Post, and several of his associates heard about incidents in the hospitals, investigated the stories, found them to be true, and decided to refrain from publicizing Patton’s conduct before taking up the matter with Eisenhower. They felt that Patton was subject to trial by court-martial for having struck an enlisted man. If so charged, he would have to be dismissed from his command.

Meeting with three senior correspondents, Eisenhower assured them that he would take appropriate action vis-á-vis Patton. He asked them to bury the story in the interest of preserving Patton’s value as a combat leader. Should news of his actions become known to the public, he might have to be relieved. The army could ill afford to lose his driving power for the rest of the war.

The correspondents promised to withhold the story.


Diary, August 20

General Blesse . . . brought me a very nasty letter from Ike with reference to the two soldiers I cussed out for what I considered cowardice. Evidently I acted precipitately and on insufficient knowledge. My motive was correct because one cannot permit skulking to exist. It is just like any communicable disease. I admit freely that my method was wrong but I shall make what amends I can. I regret the incident as I hate to make Ike mad when it is my earnest study to please him.

General Lucas arrived at 1800 to further explain Ike’s attitude. I feel very low.


Many years after the war, Huebner felt that he “might have precipitated the slapping incident” He recalled that Patton had asked him how things were going. Huebner said that he thought “the front lines were getting thinner.” It seemed to him that among the soldiers legitimately hospitalized for wounds, injuries, and sickness were some who were malingering, had no proper reason for being in medical channels, and were avoiding their combat duties. “Well, as luck would have it,” Patton went straight to a hospital.


Patton himself had recorded the incidents.


Diary, August 3

In the hospital I also met the only arrant coward I have ever seen in this Army. This man was sitting, trying to look as if he had been wounded. I asked him what was the matter, and he said he just couldn’t take it. I gave him the devil, slapped his face with my gloves, and kicked him out of the hospital. Companies should deal with such men, and if they shirk their duty, they should be tried for cowardice and shot. I will issue an order on this subject tomorrow.


Seventh Army Memo to corps, division, and separate unit commanders, August 5, 1943

It has come to my attention that a very small number of soldiers are going to the hospital on the pretext that they are nervously incapable of combat. Such men are cowards and bring discredit on the army and disgrace to their comrades, whom they heartlessly leave to endure the dangers of battle while they, themselves, use the hospital as a means of escape. You will take measures to see that such cases are not sent to the hospital but are dealt with in their units. Those who are not willing to fight will be tried by Gourt-Martial for cowardice in the face of the enemy.


Diary, August 10

At another evacuation hospital . . . saw another alleged nervous patient – really a coward. I told the doctor to return him to his company and he began to cry so I cursed him well and he shut up. I may have saved his soul if he had one.

A report of the incidents from the Medical Corps came through channels to Bradley. He had two alternatives – send it forward to his immediate superior, Patton, who was certain to ignore it; or depart from military practice, violate the precept of loyalty to his immediate superior, and send it around Patton to Eisenhower. Bradley avoided both options. He put the report into his safe.

The hospital authorities then bypassed the chain of command and sent a report through technical – medical – channels.


Diary, August 21

I had Pvt. Paul G. Bennett . . . in and explained to him that I had cussed him out in the hope of restoring his manhood, that I was sorry, and that if he cared, I would like to shake hands with him. We shook. General John A. Crane, to whose brigade he belongs, stated to me afterwards that the man was absent without leave and had gone to the rear by falsely representing his condition to the battery surgeon. It is rather a commentary on justice when an Army commander has to soft-soap a skulker to placate the timidity of those above . . .

Bob Hope and his troupe called on me at the office later and we had them to dinner and they sang and carried on until after midnight. I put myself out to be amusing and human as I think it may help, particularly if this business about the shirkers comes up.


On August 22, Patton issued one of his most famous statements:


Seventh Army General Orders 18

Soldiers of the Seventh Army: Born at sea, baptized in blood, and crowned in victory, in the course of 38 days of incessant battle and unceasing labor, you have added a glorious chapter to the history of war.

Pitted against the best the Germans and Italians could offer, you have been unfailingly successful. The rapidity of your dash, which culminated in the capture of Palermo, was equalled by the dogged tenacity with which you stormed Troina and captured Messina.

Every man in the Army deserves equal credit. The enduring valor of the Infantry, and the impetuous ferocity of the tanks were matched by the tireless clamor of the destroying guns.

The Engineers . . . Maintenance and Supply . . . Signal Corps . . . Medical Department...

The Navy . . . our Air . . .

As a result of this combined effort, you have killed or captured 113,350 enemy troops. You have destroyed 265 of his tanks, 2,324 vehicles, and 1,162 large guns, and in addition, have collected a mass of military booty running into hundreds of tons.

But your victory has a significance above and beyond its physical aspect – you have destroyed the prestige of the enemy . . .

Your fame shall never die.


Letter, GSP, Jr., to Beatrice, August 22, 1943

At the moment things are pretty quiet as the natural reaction which invariably follows active operations has set in.

However personally I am quite busy visiting units and writing up notes on the operations for Lesley [McNair]. I intend to get the real dope from people who actually did the close in fighting. If I succeed, it will be the first time in history where the ideas of the little fellow will have a chance to be articulated.

As usual I seem to have made Divine Destiny a little mad but that will pass, I suppose. It [Eisenhower] has a lot of worries which it has to pass on ...

I have had telegrams from George [Marshall] and Harry [Stimson] and a host of others, all but from D who is, I suppose, too international.

We have not the least idea of what is to happen next. In fact I think that what we do is so contingent on political reactions that any thing can happen.

We have a house on the water a fiew miles from here where we swim. It is the finest and cleanest beach I have ever seen, many times better than Waikiki with a rock about the size of Gibralta at each end.

They have a lot of latine sailed boats there that carry a huge spread of canvas. I am going out in one this afternoon . . .

Speaking in general, I find that moral courage is the most valuable and most usually absent characteristic. Much of our trouble is directly attributable to “The fear of they.” Remember in the “Jungle Book” there is a poem each verse of which ends with “It is fear, O my little brother, it is fear.”


Letter, Katharine [Mrs. George C.] Marshall to GSP, Jr., August 22, 1943

I have just been reading a copy of the message George sent to you and your Army on your magnificent campaign in Sicily. I am so proud of you. I had to send a note of congratulations to you for having such an Army as the Seventh and to them for having such a leader . . . You and your men have the admiration and gratitude of the whole country. We read of your hardships and endurance with tears in our eyes and thankfulness in our hearts that the end was so glorious . . . Remember we are with you men in spirit always.

Trying to conceal his irritation Patton was carrying out his distasteful assignment of apologizing for the slapping incident.


Diary, A ugust 22

I had in all the doctors and nurses and enlisted men who witnessed the affairs with the skulkers. I told them about my friend in the last war who shirked, was let get by with it, and eventually killed himself. I told them that I had taken the action I had to correct such a future tragedy.


In addition, he managed, with perhaps less than complete candor and good grace, to express his regret for “my impulsive actions.”

To Dr. Currier, who was summoned to Palermo along with other medical personnel and escorted into Patton’s office where the general sat behind “an impressive desk,” Patton’s remarks sounded like “no apology at all,” but rather “an attempt to justify what he had done.”


Diary, August 23

I have acquired lots of fame and also sustained a great deal of mental anguish, which was, in the light of subsequent events, quite unnecessary. However, with a few brief lapses I have retained my self-confidence. I have always done my duty and have trusted to my destiny.

At 1500, Private Charles H. Kuhl . . . came in. He was one of the two men I cussed out for skulking. I told him why I did it, namely, that I tried to make him mad with me so he would regain his manhood. I then asked him to shake hands, which he did.


Kuhl later acknowledged that Patton had apologized, saying “he didn’t know that I was as sick as I was.” Admittedly, Patton was “a great general.” But he was also “a glory hunter. I think at the time it happened, he was pretty well worn out . . . I think he was suffering a little battle fatigue himself.”


Letter, GSP, Jr., to Beatrice, August 23, 1943

I have been a passanger floating on the river of destiny. At the moment I can’t see around the next bend, but I guess it will be all right.

Once in a while my exuberant personality gets me in a little lame with Divine Destiny, which seems to have the trait . . . of believing the worst of every one on insufficient evidence.


Letter, Lucas to GSP, Jr., August 23, 1943

Everything is OK. The people who were making the fuss have been told to stop yelling and have agreed to do so. Ike just read me a report to General Marshall on the campaign in which he recited your achievements in glowing terms. The situation is in hand.


In a letter to Marshall, dated August 24, Eisenhower gave brief descriptions of the senior American commanders who had been tested in battle. “First, Patton. He has conducted a campaign where the brilliant successes scored must be attributed directly to his energy, determination, and unflagging aggressiveness.” The Seventh Army operations were sure to be a model of “swift conquest” for future students at the Army War College. “The prodigious marches, the incessant attacks, the refusal to be halted by appalling difficulties” were “something to enthuse about.” And this came “mainly from Patton,” who refused to “seize on an excuse for resting or refitting,” or recuperating to bring up more strength. When an order from Alexander appeared to keep him “rather quiescent . . . he immediately jumped into a plane, went to Alexander, got the matter cleared up, and kept on driving.”

In spite of all that, Patton continued “to exhibit some of those unfortunate personal traits of which you and I have always known.” They caused Eisenhower several uncomfortable days. “His habit of impulsive bawling out of subordinates, extending even to personal abuse of individuals” occurred twice, and Eisenhower had to take “the most drastic steps.” If he was “not cured now, there is no hope for him. Personally, I believe that he is cured – not only because of his great personal loyalty to you and to me but because fundamentally he is so avid for recognition as a great military commander that he will ruthlessly suppress any habit of his own that will tend to jeopardize it.”

Aside from that, Patton had qualities that they could not “afford to lose unless he ruins himself.” Therefore, Patton could be classed as an Army commander whose troops would “not be stopped by ordinary obstacles.”

Still obeying Eisenhower’s instructions, Patton notified all his division commanders of his intention to visit their organizations between August 24 and 30 in order to address all the officers and men. The first one he drove to was the 2d Armored Division, and Patton noted in his diary that he “gave a talk on how good they were.”

It was probably significant that he chose his old division in order to make his initial apologies to the troops for his actions in the hospitals. He praised the performance of the men in the past, campaign and exhorted their continued attention to and pride in military behavior. Although he failed to mention it in his diary, he also made an oblique reference to his treatment of the two men he had believed were malingerers. There was no need for him to be direct. The story had spread across the island. What he did was to make a vague statement of regret, as someone reported, “for any occasions when I may have harshly criticized individuals.”

The script for his ten- or fifteen-minute speech made his main point toward the end:

In my dealings with you I have been guilty on too many occasions, perhaps, of criticizing and of loud talking. I am sorry for this and wish to assure you that when I criticize and censure I am wholly impersonal . . . for every man I have criticized in this Army, I have probably stopped, talked to, and complimented a thousand, but people are more prone to remember ill usage than to recall compliments; therefore, I want you officers and men who are here to explain to the other soldiers, who think perhaps that I am too hard, my motives and to express to them my sincere regret . . .

In the Sicilian campaign we lost some 1,500 of our comrades, killed in action. I do not grieve for their death because I thank God that such men have lived, but I do say to you all that it is our sacred duty to see that each of our dead comrades is escorted through the Pearly Gates by a large, a very large number of enemy dead. It is up to us now and hereafter to produce these escorts for our heroic slain.

You know that I have never asked one of you to go where I feared to tread. I have been criticized for this, but there are many General Pattons and there is only one Seventh Army. I can be expended but the Seventh must and will be victorious.

The soldiers in the combat units were rather uninterested. Their activities were so regulated, their lives so circumscribed, their loyalties so localized that the slapping incidents could have happened on the moon, for all they cared. Besides, they could well understand Patton’s sudden rage, his outburst, his profanity. It was all so typical of their impression of the man, so characteristic.

Those who cared and were shocked were the doctors, nurses, and medical corpsmen, who regarded combat fatigue as a legitimate symptom of psychoneurosis.

He “made a speech to the 45th Division,” and again made no note in his diary of his rather circuitous explanation of what had taken place in the hospitals.

He talked with Middleton

about Clark’s operation at the Gulf of Salerno. Here again the Americans will be in the covering role; the X British Corps making the main attack. I am quite sure from my experience that the British should always do the covering and the Americans the attacking, but others do not agree with me.

Patton addressed the 9th Division, and noted: “I am more than satisfied with General Eddy every time I come in contact with him.”

Alexander “came to see what he could steal” for the invasion of the Italian mainland. “If I suggest to Ike that this is the case, he will tell me I don’t see the ‘big picture.’ I wish to God he was an American.”


Cable, Eisenhower to Marshall, August 27, 1943

Patton is preeminently a combat commander. Many people fail to realize that the first thing that usually slows up operations is an element of caution, fatigue or doubt on the part of a higher commander. Patton is never affected by these and, consequently, his troops are not affected. Several of his subordinate commanders turned in magnificent performances in the late show, but if they had had an example of pessimism, caution and delay above them, they could not possibly have acted as they did. He is a one sided individual, and particularly in his handling of individual subordinates is apt at times to display exceedingly poor judgment and unjustified temper. But his outstanding qualities must not be discounted when you are determining future assignments of senior officers.


Patton spoke “to all 1st Division” and remarked upon their improved discipline since Huebner took over.

As Huebner later recalled Patton’s visit:

I assembled 18,000 men, and Patton made a speech, a very good speech, in which he explained that he was sorry. But when he was finished, not one man clapped or said anything. There was no applause. They knew Patton was wrong, but they also knew it was something to get over with and forget as soon as possible.

Diary, August 28

After lunch I talked to selected officers of all grades on their battle experience. I have done this with every division and hope to get a good cross section of how wars are fought . . .

We have not solved the problem of replacements . . . The lack of replacements in all the operations so far undertaken is nothing short of scandalous . . . Divisions and Armies are not animated tables of organization but have a soul just as human beings have, and that in order to get the best results, they must be maintained at strength with men who have been in them long enough to acquire the unit soul.


Patton’s letter to Eisenhower on the slapping incident was contrite and humble.


I want to commence by thanking you for this additional illustration of your fairness and generous consideration in making your communication [of the complaint] personal [rather than official].

I am at a loss to find words with which to express my chagrin and grief at having given you, a man to whom I owe everything and for whom I would gladly lay down my life, cause for displeasure with me.

I assure you that I had no intention of being either harsh or cruel in my treatment of the two soldiers in question. My sole purpose was to try and restore in them a just appreciation of their obligation as men and soldiers.

In World War I, I had a dear friend and former schoolmate who lost his nerve in an exactly analogous manner, and who, after years of mental anguish, committed suicide.

Both my friend and the medical men with whom I discussed his case assured me that had he been roundly checked at the time of his first misbehavior, he would have been restored to a normal state.

Naturally, this memory actuated me when I inaptly tried to apply the remedies suggested. After each incident I stated to officers with me that I felt I had probably saved an immortal soul.


Diary, August 29

To Catania. Ike had just landed and was most effusive. We had lunch with Monty, who was, I think, trying to make up for not feeding me last time. Ike decorated him with the big cross of the Legion of Merit.

Then I handed Ike my letter [of remorse] about the incidents of the two soldiers. He just put it in his pocket . . .

Well, that was a near thing, but I feel much better.


Letter, GSP, Jr., to Beatrice, August 30, 1943

I have been traveling so much addressing troops that I have not written for some days. Yesterday Monty, Omar, Geoff, Lucien, and I had lunch with Destiny and every thing was very fine.

Apparently I will join the Army of the unemployed for a while, so don’t worry about me. I seem destined to either fight like hell or do nothing.

On that day he visited the 3d Division, the last of his units to see, the last of his talks, the last of his vague apology. It turned out to be a rather shorter speech than he intended. There was a special affection on the part of Patton for this division which had captured Agrigento, Palermo, and Messina. The men felt Patton’s warmth, and they reciprocated. Truscott too was close to Patton, and he was capable of arranging or stage-managing what happened – unless the story is altogether apocryphal. Patton’s audience sensed that he was about to make his statement of apology. Before he could do so, they began a spontaneous chant. “No, General, no, no; no, General, no, no,” with increasing insistence, “no, General, no, no.” They would not listen, would not let him go on. He waited. Tears came to his eyes. The roar swelled in volume. “No, General, no, no.” Choked with emotion, he left the speaker’s stand abruptly, returned to his car, and drove away.