Hat tip Kokoda
“Be seated.”
Men, this stuff that some sources sling around about America wanting out of this war, not wanting to fight, is a crock of bullshit. Americans love to fight, traditionally. All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle.
You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your loved ones. Second, you are here for your own self respect, because you would not want to be anywhere else. Third, you are here because you are real men and all real men like to fight. When you, here, every one of you, were kids, you all admired the champion marble player, the fastest runner, the toughest boxer, the big league ball players, and the All-American football players. Americans love a winner. Americans will not tolerate a loser. Americans despise cowards. Americans play to win all of the time. I wouldn’t give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That’s why Americans have never lost nor will ever lose a war; for the very idea of losing is hateful to an American.
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You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would die in a major battle. Death must not be feared. Death, in time, comes to all men. Yes, every man is scared in his first battle. If he says he’s not, he’s a liar. Some men are cowards but they fight the same as the brave men or they get the hell slammed out of them watching men fight who are just as scared as they are. The real hero is the man who fights even though he is scared. Some men get over their fright in a minute under fire. For some, it takes an hour. For some, it takes days. But a real man will never let his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood. Battle is the most magnificent competition in which a human being can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base. Americans pride themselves on being He Men and they ARE He Men.
Remember that the enemy is just as frightened as you are, and probably more so. They are not supermen. All through your Army careers, you men have bitched about what you call “chicken shit drilling.” That, like everything else in this Army, has a definite purpose. That purpose is alertness. Alertness must be bred into every soldier. I don’t give a fuck for a man who’s not always on his toes.
You men are veterans or you wouldn’t be here. You are ready for what’s to come. A man must be alert at all times if he expects to stay alive. If you’re not alert, sometime, a German son-of-an-asshole-bitch is going to sneak up behind you and beat you to death with a sockfull of shit! There are four hundred neatly marked graves somewhere in Sicily, all because one man went to sleep on the job. But they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before they did.
An Army is a team. It lives, sleeps, eats, and fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is pure horseshit. The bilious bastards who write that kind of stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don’t know any more about real fighting under fire than they know about fucking! We have the finest food, the finest equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity those poor sons-of-bitches we’re going up against. By God, I do.
My men don’t surrender, and I don’t want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he has been hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight back. That’s not just bull shit either. The kind of man that I want in my command is just like the lieutenant in Libya, who, with a Luger against his chest, jerked off his helmet, swept the gun aside with one hand, and busted the hell out of the Kraut with his helmet. Then he jumped on the gun and went out and killed another German before they knew what the hell was coming off. And, all of that time, this man had a bullet through a lung. There was a real man!
All of the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters, either. Every single man in this Army plays a vital role. Don’t ever let up. Don’t ever think that your job is unimportant. Every man has a job to do and he must do it. Every man is a vital link in the great chain. What if every truck driver suddenly decided that he didn’t like the whine of those shells overhead, turned yellow, and jumped headlong into a ditch? The cowardly bastard could say, ‘Hell, they won’t miss me, just one man in thousands.’ But, what if every man thought that way? Where in the hell would we be now? What would our country, our loved ones, our homes, even the world, be like? No, Goddamnit, Americans don’t think like that. Every man does his job. Every man serves the whole. Every department, every unit, is important in the vast scheme of this war. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns and machinery of war to keep us rolling. The Quartermaster is needed to bring up food and clothes because where we are going there isn’t a hell of a lot to steal. Every last man on K.P. has a job to do, even the one who heats our water to keep us from getting the ‘G.I. Shits’.
Each man must not think only of himself, but also of his buddy fighting beside him. We don’t want yellow cowards in this Army. They should be killed off like rats. If not, they will go home after this war and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the Goddamned cowards and we will have a nation of brave men. One of the bravest men that I ever saw was a fellow on top of a telegraph pole in the midst of a furious fire fight in Tunisia. I stopped and asked what the hell he was doing up there at a time like that. He answered, ‘Fixing the wire, Sir.’ I asked, ‘Isn’t that a little unhealthy right about now?’ He answered, ‘Yes Sir, but the Goddamned wire has to be fixed.’ I asked, ‘Don’t those planes strafing the road bother you?’ And he answered, ‘No, Sir, but you sure as hell do!’
Now, there was a real man. A real soldier. There was a man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty might appear at the time, no matter how great the odds. And you should have seen those trucks on the rode to Tunisia. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they rolled over those son-of-a-bitching roads, never stopping, never faltering from their course, with shells bursting all around them all of the time. We got through on good old American guts.
Many of those men drove for over forty consecutive hours. These men weren’t combat men, but they were soldiers with a job to do. They did it, and in one hell of a way they did it. They were part of a team. Without team effort, without them, the fight would have been lost. All of the links in the chain pulled together and the chain became unbreakable.
Don’t forget, you men don’t know that I’m here. No mention of that fact is to be made in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell happened to me. I’m not supposed to be commanding this Army. I’m not even supposed to be here in England. Let the first bastards to find out be the Goddamned Germans. Someday I want to see them raise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl, ‘Jesus Christ, it’s the Goddamned Third Army again and that son-of-a-fucking-bitch Patton.’ We want to get the hell over there.” The quicker we clean up this Goddamned mess, the quicker we can take a little jaunt against the purple pissing Japs and clean out their nest, too. Before the Goddamned Marines get all of the credit.
Sure, we want to go home. We want this war over with. The quickest way to get it over with is to go get the bastards who started it. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we can go home. The shortest way home is through Berlin and Tokyo. And when we get to Berlin, I am personally going to shoot that paper hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler. Just like I’d shoot a snake!
When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a German will get to him eventually. The hell with that idea. The hell with taking it. My men don’t dig foxholes. I don’t want them to. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. And don’t give the enemy time to dig one either. We’ll win this war, but we’ll win it only by fighting and by showing the Germans that we’ve got more guts than they have; or ever will have. We’re not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we’re going to rip out their living Goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We’re going to murder those lousy Hun cock suckers by the bushel-fucking-basket.
War is a bloody, killing business. You’ve got to spill their blood, or they will spill yours. Rip them up the belly. Shoot them in the guts. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt off your face and realize that instead of dirt it’s the blood and guts of what once was your best friend beside you, you’ll know what to do!
I don’t want to get any messages saying, ‘I am holding my position.’ We are not holding a Goddamned thing. Let the Germans do that. We are advancing constantly and we are not interested in holding onto anything, except the enemy’s balls. We are going to twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all of the time. Our basic plan of operation is to advance and to keep on advancing regardless of whether we have to go over, under, or through the enemy. We are going to go through him like crap through a goose; like shit through a tin horn!
From time to time there will be some complaints that we are pushing our people too hard. I don’t give a good Goddamn about such complaints. I believe in the old and sound rule that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder WE push, the more Germans we will kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that.
There is one great thing that you men will all be able to say after this war is over and you are home once again. You may be thankful that twenty years from now when you are sitting by the fireplace with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what you did in the great World War II, you WON’T have to cough, shift him to the other knee and say, ‘Well, your Granddaddy shoveled shit in Louisiana.’ No, Sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, ‘Son, your Granddaddy rode with the Great Third Army and a Son-of-a-Goddamned-Bitch named Georgie Patton!’ “That is all.”
That was fun. Thanks for posting. The objectives couldn’t have been clearer. Kill Huns and take ground until you get to Berlin then go over and kill Japs. Simple. What do these Perfumed Princes of today tell their troops? Kill the right Syrians? Fight alongside the ‘moderate Arabs’, I mean al Qaeda, I mean ISIS, I mean ISIL, I mean Daesh? Patton would have referred to the lot of them as a “son-of-an-asshole-bitch”.
Our politically correct military today prosecutes troops for pissing on dead enemies. Using their guts to grease the tracks would be sooooo politically incorrect.
spoken like a true psychopath
How so? What was psychopathic about his words to the troops?
AMEN!!! AMERICANS DESPISE A COWARD, AMERICANS WILL NOT TOLERATE A LOSER!!!
George would roll over in his grave if he had to see our younger generation now, America has been doing the UNs bidding, and nothing to show for it since.
I grew up around men such as his. Between WWII and Korea there were VETS everywhere. Most were family men of impeccable character.
When children are taught that war is bad, and slavery is bad, who will teach them ” if they don’t want to be a slave, war is the only option. If someone doesn’t like them just because, protecting oneself becomes vital. Teaching children to fear the means of self protection, is teaching them to accept enslavement.
Problem is we don’t fight to win anymore.
Yeah, old George talked a good fight from his place in the rear with the gear where there is no fear. Fucking generals.
@Ed
If you were to read a bit about Patton you would learn that he was not in the rear with the gear but often times under fire. I have no doubt that he was a sociopath but you need leaders like that to get you through a war. I’d rather serve under him or McArthur rather than General Meade or General Hooker.
Patton was greatly feared by Germany. With good reason.
Meade gets the shaft too often. Without him running the men in the field while Grant oversaw the big picture things would not have worked out as well. Meade had huge numbers of political enemies and jealous self serving REMF bastards backstabbing him.
In the Civil War on both sides there were shocking numbers of fights between officers seeking glory at someone else’s expense. There were literally dozens of generals on both sides engaging in vicious political infighting to the last second of the war. The generals often hated each other more than the enemy. I fear it is no different today.
The movie: Kiss them for Me
Synopsis: Three decorated Navy pilots finagle a four day leave in San Francisco. They procure a posh suite at the hotel and Commander Crewson, a master of procurement, arranges to populate it with party people. Lieutenant Wallace is trying to get the pilots to make speeches to rally the homefront at shipyard magnate Eddie Turnbill’s plants, but they’re tired of the war and just want to have fun. While Crewson begins falling in love with Turnbill’s fiancée Gwinneth Livingston, he tries to ignore the distant call of war.
Cary Grant as Lt. Cmdr Crewson.
Reporter: Can you tell us about what’s happening in the war?
LCdr Crewson: Which war? The one between the Navy and the Army, the one between the Navy and the Marines, or the one between the Army and the Marines?
Reporter: Why, the war with the Japs, of course.
LCdr Crewson: Aw, nobody cares about them!
Patton wasn’t a sociopath. But he is a classic example of ADHD. He literally exhibited every one of the traits listed in the DSM.
You are ignorant. That man spent more time on the front lines than his own infantry privates.
In WW1, he once witnessed a unit marching along a road, and an officer on horseback was rushing to the rear with a report. The enlisted men saw this officer, thought that the officer was fleeing in fear, the the unit broke and ran, despite being in no danger.
Later, when finally leading the first brigade of American tanks (which he had trained, as the school’s commandant and primary instructor), he actually lead their attack ON FOOT. Halfway through the first day’s fighting, George got shot in his rear and by a machine gun. Between the wars, much to the embarrassment of his wife, at parties, he used to pull his pants down to show off the scars to his fellow officers.
For this reason, Patton always went to the front in an open-air jeep, so that the men could see him on the road, and when he left the front line area to go back to wherever his army headquarters was that day, it was by light observation aircraft, so as not to demoralize his men.
Lincoln often went down to Virginia — to visit the Army of the Potomac, and often went close to the front lines. During the Peninsula campaign, he tried light a fire under the dawdling McClellan to get moving at a pace faster than the Confederates could build defensive works. One day, across the bay, he noticed that a port in Confederate hands seemed to be relatively unguarded. That night, he personnally rowed a dinghy ashore and inspected possible landing beaches. The next day, he and the Secretary of War, Stanton, detached a division from McClellan’s command, briefed them on the situation, and the next day the troops landed, captured the port intact, AND the adjoining town with barely a fight.
During the one brief attempt by some of Lee’s forces to attack Washington, D.C., Lincoln was literally walking along the tops of the parapets. After several warnings from officers that he was going to get shot, he finally agreed to sit in a chair, in the safety which the earthwork was built to provide.
I`d have to say quite a few of you would do well to read a biography of Patton. Sociopath? Really?
@Greg
I’m currently reading the book, War As I Knew It which is made up entirely from Patton’s diary and put together by George Patton Jr. I also studied Patton quite a bit as part of my Military Science Degree as well.
You can’t work through a book like that and come away with anything other than Patton was a Sociopath. Frankly, I’m perfectly fine with that. Lets face it, if I had some horrible disease and I had to choose one of two doctors to deal with it and one was a sociopath then I’d go right for the sociopath because he wouldn’t let anything or anyone stand in the way of finding a treatment or cure. Patton, as you can read from his own words, has zero empathy for anyone other than the hard fighting soldier that is going to bring him (Patton) glory and fame.
Pardon me rojam if this reply mirrors my first that may not have been posted. Thank you for your respectful reply
Carlo D’Estes, a genius for war is the author and book I culled from.
If not mistaken , a lack of conscience is a cornerstone of the sociopath. I don’t believe that is fair to say of Gen. Patton
Regards
Ps…Im fine with calling Thomas Jefferson a psychopath though lol
A Sociopath wouldn’t even have empathy for the suffering, hard fighting grunts under his command.
Patton was a tribalist, and the combat organizations within the Army was his tribe.
He sounds much like a football coach in the pre-game locker room pep talk.
Damn, I love that guy! He was the best general to ever wear a uniform. Great men of great purpose never allow themselves to be stopped or deterred from their purpose.
Psychopath? Remember, the superior intellect is thought to be insane by the dull-witted. Same as some shitbirds here trying to understand Trump, they haven’t the capacity.
When his aide told him, “Sir, sometimes the men don’t know when you’re serious or just kidding.” His reply was classic, “It’s not important for them to know, it’s only important for me to know.”
BLOOD AND GUTS PATTON.
Commonly referred to by his soldier’s as “Old Blood and Guts”.
Their blood – his guts!
A sad ending for a true legend.
But when they came home, every single one of them was proud to truthfully say that he himself fought under Patton. And a lot of other WW2 vets pretended to be on of Patton’s soldiers, too.
Yeah! prove you are a man by killing someone, or get killed so some fat new world order fuck can make more profits.(from pipelines, poppy fields, etc.) Fuck Me! didn’t you see the quote from “War is a Racket”
“That’s why Americans have never lost nor will ever lose a war; for the very idea of losing is hateful to an American.”
Oops! Well…..at least the second half of that statement is true. Then again, it’s probably a true statement for people in a lot of countries.
“We want this war over with. The quickest way to get it over with is to go get the bastards who started it.”
At least since Vietnam (and many would say several wars before Vietnam), those who start wars and escalate them (through false flags reported by a state run media) are: wall street, the Banksters, warmongering politicians in Washington D.C. and the Military Industrial complex.
The upper leadership in the Army, and in theater, during the Vietnam War, were, to a man, veterans of the Battle of Hurtgen Forest — a disastrous waste of life which was so embarrassing(*) to Eisenhower that, in his memoirs, he wrote only one sentence about it, stating that it could have been avoided.
(*) with many units suffering 50%-70% casualties in a mere 2 weeks on the line — 28th Infantry Divisions, the first ones to get hit in the Battle of the Bulge, had just come off the line from Hurtgen — which is why they fell apart into disorder so easily. The worst part was that it was all unnecessary — the units in the Hurtgen forest could have been bypassed, isolated, and starved into surrender. The casualty rate there was so high for American soldiers that they called it “The Death Factory.”
The movie “A Time for Trumpets” gives an accurate presentation of Hurtgen Forest. It shows a very narrow slice … on the platoon level…. for approx. only a week of time. But it reflects the experience of nearly every infantry platoon in the 6 months of fighting there. But worse than that, for the officers who served there (then-Captain Westmoreland being typical), they came out of it having ingrained all the wrong ideas — such as, grinding away in terrain which favors the enemy and enemy ambushes, and a well-dug-in enemy in a battle of attrition is perfectly acceptable military leadership, and preferable to winning by maneuver warfare.
Pity a leader of men with a true desire to win in severe combat conditions would be criticized into a court Marshall by the gay and feminine mangina’s in today’s press . A friend of mine is haunted by acts of war witnessed first hand . Not a coward not a hero just survived with the memory he did his best . I defy any presstitute to judge his actions from the comfort of a studio thousands of miles away
I just wonder what Patton would have done with his life if never in a military uniform. Cop maybe? Serial killer? Maybe he would have turned out to have talent in another area and been a crazy motherfucker like Hunter S. Thompson.
Zara, that’s like saying Trump could have been a crazy community organizer like Obama.
Coyote, I don’t ever said this, but I’ve always liked you.
Patton came to realize that America fought on the wrong side in WWII, and for that he was murdered.
He was going to expose the filthy vermin kikes who say they are jews but are not. He would have been president, and the whole world would have been the better for it. Trump is Patton reincarnated, enjoy the fruits of his efforts as long as you can.
Boy, the HasbaRATS and JIDF are thick in here!
How many dicks did your sow of a Mother take up the butt (ha ha) to wind up w/ a drooling intellect and dead soul like you? I really want to know.
Don’t know what those are but you are one sick puppy.
Sure you don’t, (((Jacob))), sure you don’t.
Fucking pig, How’s Mom?
I hope inclusion of pieces like this don’t indicate TBP is on a “wartime footing”.
People like Patton are useful tools for fighting those few and far between wars that are “necessary”.
Anyone for whom violence is second nature should be nowhere near a non-military leadership position.
The sad fact is, our involvement, and even England’s involvement in WW2 was do to advisors like (((Walter Morgenthau))) pressuring heads of state to fight in a war which was declared by a worldwide union of Jewish organizations in 1933. And this is no secret — not only was it in all the newspapers, it was literally on the top headline on the front page of major newspapers around the globe.