War as I Knew It

by George S. Patton

  When I was about eight years old, a minister named Mr. Bliss told me that when he visited the Parthenon he had put his silk hat on one end of the steps, and having gone to the other end had sighted across and could not see the top of his silk hat, indicating that, in order to secure agreeable lines, the straight lines of the Greek temples were actually curves. Gaffey and I tried the same thing at Segesta with two steel helmets, one on top of the other, and were unable to see them over the curve of the steps.

  1 218-201 B.C.

  The theatre, capable of seating perhaps two thousand people, is on top of a very high hill, so that in addition to the view of the actors, the spectators also had ever before them a magnificent seascape. Apparently, the Greeks who built this theatre had lived in a village back of it, but owing to the inevitable cannibalism of all ancient things by succeeding generations, the town no longer exists and can be traced only by the fact that nearly all the stones lying over the hill show traces of having been worked. Speaking of cannibalism, I read that a great deal of Pisa is constructed with stone taken from Carthage.

  The city and harbor of Syracuse are to me of particular interest because this place probably has been the scene of more amphibious operations than any other harbor in the world. When looking over its water I could almost see the Greek triremes, the Roman galleys, the Vandals, the Arabs, the Crusaders, the French, the English, and the Americans, who, to mention only a few, have successively stormed, or attempted to storm, that harbor.

  When we first came to Sicily—and the same thing is true of Sardinia and Corsica—we were surprised at the large number of small towers dotting the coastline. These towers were apparently built between 1500 and 1600 under the influence of Genoa. The system consisted of a man picking out for himself a good spot for a tower and building it. He would then go to the government and offer to garrison the tower, usually with himself and family, if he were paid. The pay was not excessive—in our money, about fifty dollars a year. Apparently that, and not the Arab pirates, is the origin of the towers.

  Another very striking characteristic, particularly of Sicily, is the fact that nearly all the towns cling like limpets to the tops of the precipitous peaks. On closer examination you will find that the highest building on these peaks is the ruin of a Norman castle.

  The Normans captured Sicily between 900 and 970, and then apparently each Norman gentleman built himself a tower—for that is what most of them are—on the highest peak he could find. In the course of time, as his riches increased, he sometimes added an inner and then an outer bailey, but this is not the general rule. The town then grew from the descendants of his soldiers and from the local people who came close to the castle in order to secure protection.

  The Palais Royal at Palmero (“The Paleopolis” of Polybius) had such an origin. Its site was a volcanic outcropping, surrounded by two streams on which the Arabs erected a castle called a “ksar.” This outcropping, much manicured, still exists and the original ksar, built by the Arabs around a.d. 700, still forms part of the central keep of the palace. Unfortunately the palace also has been overmanicured, and only in the basements and inner walls can one see the original building.

  In the basement of the old keep we found the Norman treasury. It consisted of two stone rooms based on bedrock, one room completely within the other. In order to get into the inner room, it was necessary to open two doors and pass through a short vestibule. These doors were constructed so that when the outer door was opened giving entrance to the hallway, the inner automatically shut. When the inner door was opened, the outer door was shut. Inside, there is a pit about ten feet deep and twenty feet square with a monolithic block in the bottom. On this block was piled the largest treasure, such as vases, dishes, and the like.

  In the four corners of the room are huge wine jars, which are suspended from the ceiling so that a sentinel going down through a door could see that nobody had cut into the bottom of them. It was in these wine jars that the money was kept.

  When we were storming these towns or driving past them, I could almost picture in my mind’s eye the small groups of knights and men-at-arms who, by virtue of occupying these strong points, ruled the world as they knew it, and how pitifully weak in numbers and armor they were in comparison with our guns, tanks, and infantry, which rolled by them in endless streams.

  However, there were some things which the ancient knights and their ill-smelling companions would have understood and have laughed at — that was our Improvised mule cavalry. In order to move over the terrific country through which we had to fight, we had to improvise mounted units. These men rode whatever they could find — mules, burros, and occasionally bullocks. The saddles were either of local construction, captured Italian equipment, or simply mattresses.

  Once I met a young soldier with a captured Italian saddle which he had casually placed on the horse’s neck in front of the withers. When I stopped him to question his ideas in so placing the saddle, the horse lowered his neck and the soldier rolled off. He said that he thought that was the place to put a saddle. I suppose that the only time he had ever been on a quadruped was at a circus when he rode on an elephant’s head.

  Nevertheless, this improvised horse cavalry was a tremendous advantage. In fact, we could not have won the war without it. We all regretted that we did not have a complete American cavalry division with pack artillery. Had we possessed such a unit, not a German would have escaped.

  The home life of the natives is very peculiar. Apparently they have never decided to cook in any special place, so that all cooking is done in the streets. The cooking equipment has improved considerably since we came, as they now use our discarded five-gallon oil cans. Not only do they cook in the street, but sit in the street, and, what is more distressing, sing in the streets at all hours of the day and night. Owing to the fact that they live primarily on garlic, which is sold by old men carrying garlands of garlic over their shoulders, the singing not only impresses the ear, but also the nose.

  The Sicilian takes much better care of his animals than does the Arab, and he practically never uses a bit, all the horses and mules being controlled by a hackamore. Also the Sicilian animals, being house-raised, are the most docile creatures I have ever seen. This also applies to the mules. To encourage these animals to pull or move forward, the Sicilian emits a noise between a belch and a groan. He has no verbal means of checking the horse because, whenever he stops groaning at it, the horse automatically halts.

  One very funny thing happened in connection with the Moroccan troops. A Sicilian came to me and said he had a complaint to make about the conduct of the Moroccans, or Goums, as they are called. He said that he well knew that all Goums were thieves, also that they were murderers, and sometimes indulged in rape—these things he could understand and make allowances for, but when

  they came to his house, killed his rabbits, and then skinned them in the parlor, it was going too far

  Since the greater portion of the Sicilian life is spent in sitting, it would naturally seem that after thousands of years he would have thought of making comfortable seats, but no, he sits on rocks, mud, boxes, or anything but chairs. However, they are a very cheerful people and seemingly contented with their filth, and it would be a mistake in my opinion to try to raise them to our standards, which they would neither appreciate nor enjoy.

  Corsica looks exactly as if you had taken the worst part of the Rocky Mountains and submerged it in the ocean. It is nothing but a succession of high, absolutely barren hilltops, composed of polished granite in the majority of cases. However, it has two striking characteristics; it is wholly French, and it has not suffered from the air. It is a distinct shock to arrive in a city which has not been blown up. Ajaccio is just as it was.

  Naples, on the other hand, has been very badly raided, but, owing to the absolutely marvelous performance of our people, the docks are in fair working order.

  Pompeii comes up to the highest ideals of what a ruin should be. It also gives you the highest id
ea of the type of men who built it. It is very unfortunate that during our attacks it became necessary to bomb the ruins. Luckily, no very great damage was done.

  ‘‘The Flight into Egypt”

  Since it has been announced over the radio and also in the press that I have been to Cairo, I can now write about it.

  Colonel Codman,6 myself, and eight other members of the Staff of the Seventh Army took off from Palermo at 0715 December 12 and flew first to Benghazi, where we stopped to re-gas and to lunch.

  The airfield is about fifteen miles from the town and is covered with small bomb and shell fragments, but otherwise is in fine condition. The country, while devoid of

  landmarks of any sort and practically without vegetation so that it requires navigational methods, is nevertheless quite rolling, and I believe there are few places where at a distance of fifteen hundred yards troops would not be invisible. It occurred to me that had it been possible to use them, observation balloons, or even the old battery commanders’ ladders, would have been very useful. The surface is a sort of hard-baked mud of a brownish color and is much easier to traverse than is the sand around Indio.1 However, after several vehicles have gone on any one track, the surface breaks up. This accounts for the fact that we were informed that in desert movement vehicles should not follow in trace. However, in Indio, we found that it was much better to have them follow in trace. Certainly the country seems to me very much easier to operate in, particularly with armor, than is our own desert.

  From Benghazi we flew straight across the desert to Tobruk, which is a very small and badly banged-up town with an artificial harbor full of wrecks.

  From Tobruk we flew along the railway to El Alamein, and, although we came close to the ground, we could see very few wrecked vehicles or guns, and practically no wire.

  From El Alamein we flew along the coast to Alexandria and then up the Nile Delta to Cairo. There is a very striking demarcation between the green of the Nile Valley and the brown of the desert. I was informed that, except for the Delta, which is about one hundred and fifty miles wide; the rest of Egypt is less than thirty miles wide and some twenty-five hundred miles long.

  It was quite a thrill, as we approached Cairo, to see the pyramids. We were met at the airfield by General Sir Henry Maitland-Wilson’s Aide de Camp, Major H. Chapman Walker. The Aide took Codman and myself to the General’s house, where we stayed during our entire visit. The General himself was absent when we arrived, but his former chief of staff and several officers lived at the house, which, while very unpretentious, is quite comfortable. It is situated about a twenty minutes’ drive south of the city in a section called Madi. Major Chapman Walker had arranged a very complete program, which, after inspection, we approved.

  1Indio, California, United States Desert Training Center.

  December 13,1943

  Codman, myself, and Major Chapman Walker, accompanied by Lady Ranforly, secretary to General Wilson, went on a shopping trip in the morning.

  Cairo is really a disgusting place. It looks, and the people act, exactly as they did in New York in 1928. Both sides of the street are solid with automobiles and there are other automobiles parked in the middle of the streets. All the stores are running full blast and seem to have plenty of goods to sell, but at terrific prices. For example, I priced a pair of silk stockings which cost four pounds.

  The Egyptian peasant, who abounds in large numbers, is distinctly lower than the Sicilian, whom I had previously considered at the bottom of the human curve. When the Assuan Dam was constructed, it gave a certain type of fresh-water snail a chance to develop in large numbers. This snail is the host for a sort of hookworm, which, since the construction of the dam, has become a menace. As a result of this hookworm, the Egyptian peasant constantly suffers from the bellyache and has his sexual vigor reduced. In order to relieve his pain and restore his vigor, he has taken to smoking hashish. This has the desired results for a few months and then becomes impotent, and the peasant even more susceptible to the attack of the hookworm, so that he is in a vicious circle. Prior to the war, the traffic in hashish was well under control, with the result that the natives were quite discontented; but since the war they have been able to get all the hashish they want and are now very happy. They are unspeakably dirty in their habits and in their dress. On the fresh-water canal I saw a man defecating in the water, while below him, at a distance of not more than ten yards, women were washing clothes; and a short distance farther downstream a village was drawing drinking water.

  Of the whole population of Egypt, some twelve hundred own practically all the land except for a few million peasants who own approximately four-fifths of an acre apiece, while the rest own nothing. The average pay of a peasant is fifty dollars a year from which he has to rent his drinking water.

  The sailboats on the Nile have the same lines they had in the days of the ancient Egyptians, but since a.d. 762 they have adopted the Arab lateen sail in place of the square sail which they formerly used. In spite of their awkward appearance, these boats sail very well, and it is said that, when an English company brought out some specially constructed sailing barges which they thought would beat the native craft, the natives sailed circles around them. As far as I could determine, the native boats have no keel, but a huge rudder which, in a sense, acts as a centerboard as well as a rudder.

  After we got through shopping, we had cocktails at the famous Shepheard’s Hotel. The cocktails were good, but cost about a dollar and a half apiece.

  In the afternoon we visited the British Tank School, which is interesting but not anywhere as well arranged as our schools at Knox or Benning.

  The Holy Land

  December 14, 1943

  We took off by plane for Jerusalem at 0700 and crossed the canal just south of Lake Tenes, which is near where the children of Israel crossed.

  It never occurred to me until this flight that, at the time the Jews crossed, it was unnecessary for them to ford anything, because there is a stretch of desert from Bitter Lake to the Mediterranean which had no water on it. However, they did get across and Napoleon crossed at about the same place and also lost his baggage when the wind shifted.

  From the canal we flew along the line of Allenby’s advance and crossed at Wadi El Arish at the spot where the battle occurred. It is a much less formidable obstacle than I had gathered from the books.

  Beersheba and the surrounding country do not look too difficult, but certainly away from the wells the country is an absolute sand sea, and it is difficult to understand how Allenby ever moved a cavalry corps across it.

  From Beersheba we flew over Hebron and Bethelehem and turned westward just south of Jerusalem, finally landing at Aqir, near the coast, where we were met with some cars and driven thirty miles to Jerusalem.

  The only reason for calling Palestine a “land of milk and honey” is by comparison with the desert immediately surrounding it. It consists of nothing but barren stony hills on which a few olive trees eke out a precarious existence. We did not see a single beehive, although there were quite a number of mimosa trees.

  On reaching Jerusalem, we were met by Major General D. F. McConnell, who commands the district. He gave us a British priest, who had lived a long time in Jerusalem, as a guide to see the sights.

  We entered the city through the gate which Tancred stormed when the city was first taken (a.d. 1099). The Church of the Holy Sepulchre covers both the Tomb of Christ and also the place where the Cross stood. It is run by a composite group consisting of Catholics, Greeks, and Copts, and by a strange freak of chance, or British political insight, the doorkeeper is a Mohammedan.

  It struck me as an anomaly that, during my entire visit to Jerusalem, I was guarded by four secret service men, and the oddest part of it was that, when I entered the Tomb, the secret service men came in with me. People must have very little confidence to fear assassination in such a place.

  From the Tomb we went to the Crusaders’ Chapel where those who became Knights of Jerusalem
were knighted. In this chapel is the sword which is supposed to have been used on these occasions. In my opinion it is a fake, since the pummel is not of the correct shape, nor has it sufficient weight. The pummels of Crusaders’ swords were usually carved in the form of a stone or a piece of lead, which in an earlier date had actually been tied there. This pummel was in the shape of a blunt acorn. The crossguard and the shape of the blade were correct.

  From here we went to the place where the Cross had stood. Most of the mountain was cut away during the Roman occupation, when they filled up the Tomb and erected a Temple of Venus over both the Mount and the Tomb. However, there is an altar which is supposed to be on the exact spot where the Cross was erected.

  While I was in this chapel, I secured a rosary for Mary Scally1 and had it blessed on the altar.

  After we left the church, we followed the Way of the Cross, which is a dirty street, to the point where the Roman Forum had stood. I should think the distance is less than half a mile. In addition to the Stations of the Cross used by the Catholics, the Greeks have a number of extra ones, so that it is practically a day’s trip for a Greek priest to walk down the street, as they have to stop in front of each station.

  From the Forum we got into the cars and drove to the Garden of Gethsemane, where there are still olive trees which just possibly may have been in existence at the time of the Crucifixion.

  After lunching with the Commanding General, we drove back to the airfield and flew back to Cairo along the coast, passing over Gaza. Although I looked very carefully, I could see no indication of the fighting, but I did recognize the cactus hedge where the tanks got stuck. We reached Cairo just at dark, having completed in one day the trip which took the Children of Israel forty years to accomplish.