The Pittsburgh Press (December 21, 1945)
GENERAL PATTON DEAD
End comes quickly as lung complications follow broken neck
HEIDELBERG (UP) – Gen. George S. Patton, “Old Blood and Guts,” died a soldier’s death tonight, fighting a gallant but losing battle against a broken neck, semi-paralyzed lungs and a heart that finally weakened under the accumulation of strain.
For 12 days the fighting heart of America’s leading fighting general had carried him through a struggle against death which his physicians admitted would have been futile for a less rugged man.
But Gen. Patton had fought on. Until 48 hours ago it had appeared that ounce more the man Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower called on time and again to achieve the impossible had “done it again.”
But this morning it became evident that Gen. Patton was weakening rapidly and that his rugged 60-year-old frame might not be equal to the task imposed upon it.
Today, sorrowing officers of the U.S. Seventh Army announced that Gen. Patton had died peacefully at 5:30 p.m. (11:30 a.m. ET) in his closely guarded room in ward A-1 of the Army Hospital here. He was taken to the hospital December 9 after being injured critically in an auto accident.
The tough and stormy Army veteran suffered a broken neck in the accident and was partially paralyzed. But a little more than 48 hours after being rushed to the hospital, he was pronounced “out of danger” unless unforeseen complications set in.
Those complications, in the form of a bronchial infection, suddenly developed Wednesday night. Yesterday and last night his condition rapidly worsened. Today his physicians said he was in “grave” danger.
Gen. Patton’s death was foreshadowed by an afternoon medical bulletin from the Heidelberg Army Hospital disclosing that his heart had been affected by the strain, and that secretions were accumulating in his lungs.
The turn for the worse came after a long series of optimistic bulletins reporting steady improvement in Gen. Patton’s condition.
After the initial shock of the broken neck, the tough soldier who led the U.S. Third Army across Western Europe in the victorious drive against Germany, rallied rapidly.
Mrs. Patton left Washington the night her husband was injured and made a dangerous flight to Heidelberg. Her arrival bucked him up. She professed confidence he would pull through.
The twice-a-day bulletins issued regularly after Gen. Patton’s arrival at the Army hospital reflected steadily mounting hope that he would survive.
Plans had already been announced to fly him back to the United States in a month or six weeks for treatment at an unspecified hospital on the Eastern Seaboard.
Placed in cast
Earlier this week the traction system by which doctors had sought to bring his vertebrae in line was replaced with a cast. Gen. Patton chafed under the restraint. The bulletins began noting his discomfort. Yesterday, for the first time, his condition was described as “not satisfactory.” Today it was listed as grave.
Medical reports for the past 24 hours reported the 60-year-old Gen. Patton’s discomfort under a bronchial infection which had resulted in constant coughing. placing further strain on his heart.
“Old Blood and Guts” was the perfect nickname for Gen. Patton. He was a solder first, last and always – and his prime purpose in life was to spill the enemy’s blood.
He once sent his troops into battle with this order: “We’ve got to kill Germans. That’s the only way they’ll understand – we’ve got to attack them, run our bayonet through them, and then take their blood and guts to grease the tracks of the tanks.”
He was hated but respected by many of his men; feared by the enemy. He was a swashbuckling, pink-cheeked man who toted a pistol on each hip: he loved dazzling uniforms; he could curse with the best of his sergeants; he was a soldier.
Lifetime soldier
Behind the legend that is Gen. Patton one finds a man who devoted his life to the science of war.
He decided to become a soldier at the age of seven. He was a skillful field tactician who rose from a captain to colonel in the First World War and became a four-star general in the Second World War.
His collection of military history was one of the finest private collections in the world. He commanded American troops in the roughest landing in the North African campaign – at Casablanca. He saved the day in Tunisia when he trapped the late Marshal Erwin Rommel’s crack tank corps.
He led his men to a 38-day conquest of Sicily. And he might have ended the war on the Western Front months earlier than it did if his tanks had not run out of gasoline after a lightning dash across France 10 the gates of Germany.
Didn’t get his wish
But he died – with his boots off – without achieving his one burning ambition.
One day on the Western Front he was hanging the Congressional Medal of Honor around one of his Third Army men. As he completed the ceremony, he said quietly: “I would give my immortal soul to have one of these myself.”
He won the Distinguished Service Cross, the Silver Star and the Purple Heart in the First World War, but he wanted his country’s highest decoration. As a soldier, that was natural.
Abounded in color
A correspondent once gave a perfect thumbnail description of Gen. Patton: “Possibly not the most lovable character in the Army but certainly the best tactical general and colorful as his own sunset complexion.”
He was half-legendary and half-real. He was a showman and had to live up to his reputation. Of his pistols he once said, “This Colt that I carry. Don’t you think I get tired of it? It’s damned heavy. But I can no more leave it off than William Jennings Bryan could have left off that white tie of his.”
Much of Gen Patton’s acting was deliberate – he admitted as much himself. He remained aloof from most of his fellow officers – he was described as the “loneliest man in the Army” – because he believed that familiarity would cause a loss in respect.
He was a strict disciplinarian, but he never ordered his men to do anything he could not or would not do himself.
He believed that officers must lead and ne often was in the thick of the fighting. During the landings in Sicily, he splashed ashore and into the fight when his troops were under heavy attack at Gela.
“A military leader must get out in front even if he gets killed,” he told his officers. Another time sending them off on an offensive, he said, “Go forward, always go forward. You must not fail. Go until the last shots are fired and the last drop of gasoline is gone. Then go forward on foot.”
He learned his lesson that the men do what their officers do in the last war. He flopped to the ground when he heard his first shell. He looked around and saw hundreds of his men doing the same thing. Patton always remained standing after that – frequently refusing even to take shelter during strafing raids.
The Patton story begins on November 11, 1885, in San Gabriel, California. He was the son of a wealthy real estate operator who had migrated westward from Virginia. The Patton family was aristocratic and was a proud family of the Confederacy.
Five years at West Point
George Jr. learned to play polo at an early age. He entered Virginia Military Academy and then went to West Point in 1904. He was not a brilliant student. He failed at the end of the first year but was not dismissed because faculty members observed he had the makings of a good soldier. As a result, he was one of the few “five-year” men in West Point history.
The first Patton legend on record came when he went to his first station in Texas as a brash lieutenant. He had chosen the cavalry because of his early association with polo. Gen. Patton was independently wealthy. He asked whether there were any stable facilities on the post for private horses. A captain pointed to the stables and, to his amazement, Gen. Patton produced a strong of 26 polo ponies.
It was during a horse show in Massachusetts that he met Beatrice Ayer, of the American Woolen Co. family. They were married.
Aide to Gen. Pershing
In 1916, he went to Mexico as Gen. John J. Pershing’s aide during the Pancho Villa uprising. Gen. Patton wanted action, and Gen. Pershing had to restrain him. A bandit called Candelario Cervantes killed some Americans and Gen. Patton got his chance.
“He tried to get me when I was reloading. He shot fast but not well,” Gen. Patton said. He dumped Cervantes’ body over the fender of his automobile like a deer carcass and drove back to Gen. Pershing’s headquarters.
Went to tank schools
At the outbreak of the First World War, Patton became interested in armored warfare. He went to French tank schools and commanded the American tanks used in the war. During the Meuse-Argonne offensive he was wounded on September 26, 1918, and received the DSC.
He was promoted to colonel by the war’s end. Gen. Patton found peace dull. He participated in horse shows, collected military books, and in 1935, when he was ordered to Hawaii, he and his wife bought a second-hand schooner. Gen. Patton took a brief course in navigation and sailed 9,000 miles to Hawaii via the Panama Canal.
In 1940, when it appeared that war was imminent, he was made a brigadier general and began building the 2nd Armored Division into a mighty weapon. In 1942, he took his forces to the California desert and trained them for desert warfare in preparation for the Africa campaign.
Pushed men hard
He pushed his men unmercifully – but he knew the German was a savage enemy and that only highly trained men could beat them. He told his officers, “The dugout telephone days are over, gentlemen. You can’t run a war from a desk. You can now run it from a tank or motorcycle. Never tell a man to do anything that you wouldn’t do yourself.”
Under the burning desert sun, Gen. Patton’s tank, with a metal flag of two red stars attesting to his elevation to major general, always was in the thick of the mock fighting.
On November 8, 1942, he sent his forces ashore at Casablanca in Northwest Africa and quickly crushed French resistance. Over on the other front, trouble was developing and Gen. Patton was champing for action. Finally came the disastrous battle of the Kasserine Gap.
In February 1943, he took command in Tunisia and set the trap for Rommel, in March 1943, that broke the back of German resistance. Then he withdrew to Oran to prepare the Seventh Army for the landings in Sicily.
Enforced strict discipline
It was at that time that Gen. Patton’s name became a byword throughout the Army. An officer remarked that “You haven’t been cussed until you’ve been cussed by Patton.”
Gen. Patton instituted rigid orders – heavy fines for appearing without a helmet, for being sloppily dressed. He believed that his men must have pride to have offensive strength and to do that they had to be clear and neat.
He once noticed his men were not shaving daily and issued an order, “all men old enough to shave will do so daily.”
On July 10, 1943, the Americans and British went ashore in Sicily. Thirty-eight days later the campaign was over and the underbelly of Fortress Europe had been pierced. It was during the Sicilian campaign that Gen. Patton slapped two soldiers suffering battle fatigue but who, he thought, were “dogging it.” That incident was not made public until the following November.
Scored by ‘Ike’
Gen. Dwight D. Eisenhower denounced Gen. Patton’s conduct as “unseemly and indefensible.” Gen. Patton apologized publicly. But for a time, it appeared that he had gone into retirement. The Allies were blasting their way up Italy and the mystery was “where is Patton and the Seventh Army?” The Germans reported him in various parts of the world.
In England, a group of men were planning the invasion of Normandy. Gen. Patton figured big in those plans. Shortly before D-Day on June 6, 1944, Patton made a swing around Sardinia and Corsica. The Seventh Army was training there. The Germans immediately predicted there would be an invasion of southern France. They were jittery over Patton’s movements.
Then the Allies struck in the west – but Gen. Patton remained in England. The U.S. First Army and the British went into Normandy. Days later Patton’s newly-formed Third Army shipped into the Allied beachhead. Then, on July 27, the big breakout came. The First Army opened the way and Patton’s tanks began riding.
Mile after mile they rolled against light opposition. The Germans were demoralized. Paris fell – but not to Gen. Patton. In fact, Gen. Patton never did achieve a major objective – he always opened the way.
He almost got to the German border but it was the First Army which later made the crossing. He hoped to capture Berlin but the Russians did that. Finally, he hoped to make the Anglo-Russian junction but his army by that time was beating through Southern Germany and Austria.
On September 3, 1944, Gen. Patton’s army pulled up outside of Metz, its fuel tanks dry. The Germans had evacuated Metz. They came back. Then the armies settled down for a bitter winter.
The Germans launched the Ardennes offensive in December 1944.
Gen. Patton swung his army up from the Saar and clipped the Germans from the south.
The final offensive began in March 1945. Gen. Patton’s army broke south across the Moselle, cleaned up the Saar and then pushed with the Seventh Army – which had invaded southern France in August 1944 – across the Rhine.
