The purpose of this paper is to examine the impact of General George Patton’s military judgment on political effectiveness during the Second World War. Military judgment refers, in a general sense, to the ability to make competent decisions with a solid grasp of logistics and strategy in military operations. Just as exceptional military judgment is expected of general officers, so too is political effectiveness. One might expect that the exercise of military judgment and political effectiveness are closely associated to one another, and in turn inherently manifest the virtues that make a successful general officer. However, in General Patton’s case, the relationship between the exercise of military judgment and political effectiveness is contentious. I speculate that while Patton had a knack for successfully pursuing significant breakthroughs, he proved to be incapable of political work because he was prone to making radical decisions, behaving radically, and ignoring authority, which in turn disturbed small-scale solidarity and became in essence a matter of political disaster.
These sections begin by briefly outlining the substantive necessities of military judgment and political effectiveness, before introducing Patton’s effective practices and shortcomings—particularly during the culminating years of the European Theater. They then address the following questions: What shortcomings did Patton face as a senior officer? Conversely, what are his strengths? How did he navigate them? The remainder of this paper takes up these questions in turn, and explains the implications for Patton’s senior leadership as a whole.
Military judgment is a line of thinking directed towards what to do and, when successful, compels the enemy to do one’s will through physical force.1 It is arguable that, on some accounts, military judgment directed towards deciding what to do involves coming to reasonable conclusions about how one ought to push forward against all odds as a means of overcoming the enemy or at least putting the enemy in a position that makes this danger probable.2 On this
account, pushing forward on the battlefield in an effort to overcome the enemy can be a practical expectation and, in some instances can be an effective virtue to propel static progress. For the purposes of this paper, I shall place military judgment issues in parallel with its context and pressures.
Whenever Patton was faced with restricting situations, just as when units are faced with active or passive enemy resistance, he often acted instinctively. He had little patience for passivity and never failed to persuade, not just about what to do, but about how things ought to be done. Martin Blumenson and Kevin Hymel describe a case of the First Armored Division having less luck in maneuvering tanks through the mud in El-Guettar.3 Patton ordered commander Major General Orlando Ward to attack and capture Maknassy Heights in fear that a stationary armored division invited an attack from Rommel.4 When Ward temporarily captured the heights, which otherwise would have been left alone if not for Patton’s instructions, the massing was left open for a German counterattack. This begs a central question if Ward froze hard enough after Kasserine to resist Patton’s advice, or if Patton’s strategy was as practical as his orders. Indeed, Patton used the incident to expound his belief of continuous aggression to match the enemy’s power of resistance.5 But what are the factors of this exertion?
The power of resistance is essentially the product of the total means at disposal and the strength of the will.6 Measuring figures does not suffice to calculate the total means. In attempts to reach a well-defined plan Patton often took into consideration his enemy’s capabilities. Patton, guided by his military intelligence staff and any relative intelligence instincts concerning the German offensive in the Battle of the Bulge, warned of an enemy buildup of troops, German armor reserves, and supplies in progress opposite the southern (Ardennes) flank of the First
Army.7 Patton thought the First Army was making a terrible mistake in leaving the VIII Corps static, as it was highly probable that the Germans are building up to the east of them.8 From a German perspective, pushing for a final mass offensive was paramount to Hitler’s war efforts especially toward the climax of the European Theater, all while knowing they were tapped out in terms of aerial resources and numerical strength. To start with the departure from Patton’s line of thinking: superiors might expect the German armor reserves from panzer units to remain at the front line and see the buildup in the Ardennes to be a chance occurrence. Yet even if Patton was not called upon to think through any irregularities, and even if the buildup was a fluke Patton invalidated wishful thinking that nothing significant can come upon them. For one thing, failing to address the buildup in progress allows for the enemy to adjust according to one’s retort.9 In some situations, like Ward’s temporary capture of Maknassy, it is ill-advised to allow the enemy adjust. In others, it might even be a mistake to not force the enemy to the extreme—because a single decisive act by the enemy can catch one off-guard and influence the means of recovery, if it as at all presumable. He capitalized on quick movement and decision-making to ensure his enemy’s could not keep up with the pace. Perhaps one of Patton’s notable strengths was preventing the enemy from gaining composure, let alone stepping a foot. The slower the progress and the more frequent the interruptions of the military action the easier it is to retrieve a mistake.10 Even foxholes have been seen to slow up an offensive. He saw the slightest sense of delay as an opening for protraction. For instance, General of the Army Omar Bradley’s delays in the town of Chambois, in the absence of Patton, gave Germans room to fall back. When asked to lead the II Corps, Patton was infuriated, finding an entire unit idle. Men who were supposed to
be setting up signal corps stations, medical tents, and supply depots were, instead, digging foxholes for protection from sporadic shell fire. Patton went into action, organizing men, shouting at them, kicking them in the pants, and cajoling them into doing their job.11 His attitude towards indiscipline has been shown to be utterly tolerant, such as in mere orders of preparation. He was sent to restore order and purpose—and his method of doing so was immaculate for a dispirited Third Army.
The topic of Patton’s effective practices lies in between two other components of military genius: sense of locality and the effectiveness of rhetoric.12 For instance, under Patton’s command, two armored divisions only took three days to arrive at the town of Avranches. There they crossed the Pontaubault bridge, giving them access to three directions—west into Brittany, south to theLOire River, and east to the Seine River and Paris. He knew the countryside well, and he was right where he needed to be, on the open German flank.13 Given this advantage and assuming that it is more or less accurate, topographical maneuver entered into Patton’s sphere of expertise, and lead into some of the most successful actions in the war. On the other side, Patton was interested in grabbing headlines for both personal achievements and his men’s achievements alike. He impressed all, not only those in the theater but those at home, who began to take note of his qualities and personality. He realized it too. He took numerous photographs of himself on the battlefield and at the sites of his attacks and successes.14 Likewise, he cared for the flair of his own men regardless of the size of the victory. He positioned his units ahead of others, in retrospect both at home in the eyes of the media and at the front. As the Germans in Tunisia retreated and the Allies prepared for the final battle, Patton learned that the II Corps was to be pinched out of the front. He was furious and protested to Eisenhower and Alexander that the
Americans must be allowed to fight in the name of national prestige. Patton won the argument, and the II Corps remained on the line.15 He touched on the effectiveness of rhetoric, especially in times of despair. War is such a dangerous business that the mistakes which come from kindness are the very worst.16 The concept of kindness was defined in a variety of ways, but it is best understood as acts of mercy, kindness, and humaneness. In wartime, the notion was extraordinary, but it was suggestive of promoting the good of others despite hostility infringing the common bonds of humanity. However, despite being intrinsically significant, kindness was often capitalized by the enemy. Vulgarity and a promise of retribution were common factors among Patton’s speeches. To some this mannerism was frightening, to others it was invigorating. He had no tolerance for false optimism, and eventually he blamed his superiors for the deficiency in spirit and character of the army. Taking the initiative, he often went up to barracks himself to deliver an endless tirade of killing a large amount of Germans—and taking pleasure in their demise. He stimulated and redefined what was bearable during wartime. While the reality of death and harsh living conditions have traditionally occupied a central place in wartime, others, such as matters of increased capacity for hatred and gratitude, and resignation to indignation, arose especially in the context of experiences that transformed his men’s sense of purpose in attempts of rejuvenating the units.
Patton also understood that the nation’s fondest ideals were based on masculinity. Masculinity was what fueled the hearts and minds of Americans, including those serving in the military. Most importantly, however, this appeared to call for Patton’s undue devotion to straightening up his men and providing them the best resources to produce the best men for fighting.
Patton’s aggression through rhetoric worked very well in mobilizing the forefront but unsurprisingly came to bite him in the back. As mentioned above, he laid the blame on Eisenhower and Clark and their poor leadership for the ineffective supply system, poor tactical procedures, and a lack of unity among the Allied forces. Patton them “glamour boys” who were “too damned slick” with no idea what was happening at the front.17 Indeed, at least in the military history of the Second World War, there has been sufficient evidence to support that any military suggestion by a president, prime minister, or leader in-office has led to preconceived disaster on the ground. However, this did not relieve Patton of reprimand for his condescendence. In mid-January 1943 Patton was put in charge of hosting the Casablanca Conference, where President Roosevelt and Prime Minister Churchill, together with their military advisers, met to determine the direction of the war. Whenever he was complimented on his troops’ appearance and his hospitality, he responded with his hope for a command in combat—something he has been consciously denied of for irreverence towards authority.18 Contrary to popular belief American II Corps was placed under British Army command before ultimately getting handed over to Patton. As mentioned earlier, if Patton had been allowed to head north of Chambois as he originally requested, the Allies might have captured of destroyed the German army in the west.19 This was a foreseeable mistake for the Allies as evidenced by the officials’ lack in confidence. Nonetheless this was a cause for Patton’s grievance.
Patton was seen to have little to no regard for public opinion or for the face of authority which made his own authority subject to scrutiny by his superiors. On Patton’s account of the Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force the hesitation to present the most honest accounts was appalling.20
If we turn to the incidents of Patton informally accusing soldiers diagnosed with psychoneurosis anxiety of cowardice, there are again reasons to not place trust in his demeanor. There were many contexts in which Patton flouted moral values regarding proper conduct. For instance, on August 2, 1943 a private was admitted in a medical tent three times for exhaustion during the Sicilian Campaign.21 On August 3 1943, the following note appears on the E.M.T.: “Psychoneurosis 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).”22 Patton came into the tent with the commanding officer and other medical officers. He came to one of the patients and asked him what was the matter, to which the soldier replied, “I guess I can’t take it.”23 Patton responded furiously and kicked the patient out of the tent. Accounts of illness extended to include the psychological aspects predicated on war and war-related events, which include many acts instantiated in combat or killings. Patton, however, paid no mind to this and labeled it as cowardice. Another soldier in the tent was sitting huddled up and shivering. When Patton asked what his trouble was, to which the soldier replied, “It’s my nerves,” and he began to sob.24 Patton had no tolerance for this reasoning and struck the man. The accounts more or less summarize a young soldier’s experience upon entry into war: the expectations of glory and honor only to feel isolation, and the newfound attachments to his military family only to witness their death to artillery firsthand—among many others. It became clear to soldiers that this war evoked more terror than the glory and honor they initially expected. The accounts are important for thinking about the anxiety and perils of uncertainty in war, with many soldiers arguing that war was unbearable because it consumed one from the inside out. Patton, on the other hand, saw these psychological consequences as a soldier’s striking effort to avoid death. The idea of death was at
the core of war experience, which produced an overwhelming fear of death among many, if not all combatants. But this fear was conjoined with the uncertain imminence of death. Although there were a variety of experiences that were indeed testament to the impact of shell shock events, Patton often reminded his men that the United States fought a battle that was both necessary and crucial to the preservation of its glory and core ideals. He presumed that the conditional acceptance of endurance and a redefinition of what was bearable during wartime may have better results in the long run than any alternative options. He enforced what one would generally consider to be wrong if it meant they moved forward in terms of progress. He counteracted these dismal perceptions of trauma by further dismissing their existence and lashing out at soldiers who displayed anything less than brave, a judgment that many of his superiors found to be incompetent. Suffice it to say reports of this incident reached the desk of General Omar Bradley and the High Command at Eisenhower’s headquarters.25