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: Now I want you to remember that no bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country.
[Visiting an ancient battlefield
: The Carthaginians defending the city were attacked by three Roman legions. The Carthaginians were proud and brave but they couldn't hold. They were massacred. Arab women stripped them of their tunics and their swords and lances. The soldiers lay naked in the sun. Two thousand years ago. I was here.
: [referring to Rommel's book, 'Infantry Attacks' or 'Infanterie greift an'
] Rommel... you magnificent bastard, *I read your book*!
: Now there's another thing I want you to remember. I don't want to get any messages saying that "we are holding our position." We're not holding anything. Let the Hun do that. We are advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding onto anything except the enemy. We're going to hold onto him by the nose and we're going to kick him in the ass. We're going to kick the hell out of him all the time and we're going to go through him like crap through a goose!
: Thirty years from now, when you're sitting around your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks you, "What did you do in the great World War II," you won't have to say, "Well... I shoveled shit in Louisiana."
: Men, all this stuff you've heard about America not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of horse dung. Americans traditionally love to fight. All real Americans love the sting of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, big league ball players, the toughest boxers. Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That's why Americans have never lost, and will never lose a war... because the very thought of losing is hateful to Americans.
American GI Cook
: Up bright and early, General? Uh, breakfast? Patton
: Am I to understand that my officers have already finished eating? American GI Cook
: Uh, well, we're open from six to eight. Most of the men are just coming in now.
[Indicates two soldiers who enter the mess hall
: Please inform these men that the mess hall is closed. American GI Cook
: But sir, it's only a quarter 'til eight. Patton
: From now on, you will open at six, and no man will be admitted after six-fifteen. Where are your leggings? American GI Cook
: Leggings? Oh hell, General sir, I'm a cook. Patton
: You're a soldier. Twenty dollar fine.
[two more soldiers enter the mess hall. Patton looks them over
: Gentlemen, from this moment, any soldier without leggings, without a helmet, without a tie, any man with unshined shoes or a soiled uniform... is going to be skinned.
: Now, an army is a team - it lives, eats, sleeps, fights as a team. This individuality stuff is a bunch of crap.
: The Nazis are the enemy. Wade into them. Spill *their* blood. Shoot *them* in the belly.
: This is a barracks; it's not a bordello.
[about his pistol grips
: They're ivory. Only a pimp from a cheap New Orleans whorehouse would carry a pearl-handled pistol.
: We're gonna keep fighting. Is that CLEAR? We're gonna attack all night, we're gonna attack tomorrow morning. If we are not VICTORIOUS, let no man come back alive!
Lt. Col. Charles R. Codman
: You know General, sometimes the men don't know when you're acting. Patton
: It's not important for them to know. It's only important for me to know.
: When you put your hand into a bunch of goo that a moment before was your best friend's face, you'll know what to do.
: I was interested to see a Bible by your bed. You actually find time to read it? Patton
: I sure do. Every goddamn day.
: There's only one proper way for a professional soldier to die: the last bullet of the last battle of the last war.
] For over a thousand years, Roman conquerors returning from the wars enjoyed the honor of a triumph - a tumultuous parade. In the procession came trumpeters and musicians and strange animals from the conquered territories, together with carts laden with treasure and captured armaments. The conqueror rode in a triumphal chariot, the dazed prisoners walking in chains before him. Sometimes his children, robed in white, stood with him in the chariot, or rode the trace horses. A slave stood behind the conqueror, holding a golden crown, and whispering in his ear a warning: that all glory is fleeting.
: I've always felt that I was destined for some great achievement, what I don't know. Sgt. William Meeks
: Yes, sir. Patton
: The last great opportunity of a lifetime - an entire world at war, and I'm left out of it? God will not permit this to happen! I will be allowed to fulfill my destiny! His will be done.
: You want to know why this outfit got the hell kicked out of it? A blind man could spot it. They don't act like soldiers; they don't look like soldiers; why should they be expected to fight like soldiers?
: We're not just going to shoot the bastards, we're going to cut out their living guts and use them to grease the treads on our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy Hun bastards by the bushel.
[as the British parade into Messina
] Field Marshal Sir Bernard Law Montgomery
: Don't smirk, Patton. I shan't kiss you. Patton
: Pity. I shaved very close this morning in preparation for getting smacked by you.
: In about fifteen minutes, we're going to start turning these boys into fanatics - razors. They'll lose their fear of the Germans. I only hope to God they never lose their fear of me.
: Where ya goin', General? Patton
: Berlin. I'm going to personally shoot that paper-hangin' sonofabitch.
: What's the matter with you? Soldier Who Gets Slapped
: I... I guess I... I can't take it sir. Patton
: What did you say? Soldier Who Gets Slapped
: It's my nerves, sir. I... I... I just can't stand the shelling anymore. Patton
: Your *nerves*? Well, hell, you're just a God-damned coward.
[Soldier starts sniveling
: [Slaps him, once forehanded, then backhanded on the rebound
: Shut up! I won't have a yellow bastard sitting here *crying* in front of these brave men who have been wounded in battle!
[Soldier snivels some more, and Patton swings a vicious forehand slap, knocking his helmet away
: *Shut up!*
[to the doctors
: Don't admit this yellow bastard. There's nothing wrong with him. I won't have sons-of-bitches who are afraid to fight *stinking up this place of honor!*
: You're going back to the front, my friend. You may get shot, and you may get killed, but you're going up to the fighting. Either that, or I'm going to stand you up in front of a firing squad. I ought to shoot you myself, you god-damned... bastard! Get him out of here!
[pulls his service automatic. At that, the doctors leap forward and hustle the soldier out of the tent. Patton keeps shouting at the soldier's back
: Take him up to the front! You hear me? You God-damned coward!
[Takes deep breath
: I won't have cowards in my army.
: When we took Palermo they called me a hero, said I was the greatest general since Stonewall Jackson. General Omar N. Bradley
: [looking at a newspaper and chuckling
] And now they draw cartoons about you.
: "Despicable". That's the first time anyone's ever applied that word to me.
: I don't know why, but the image of a bullet coming straight for my nose was more horrifying than anything else. General Omar N. Bradley
: Well, I can understand that, George, it's such a handsome nose.
: I'm not going to subsidize cowardice.
: I can't wear my helmet and use a stethoscope. Patton
: Well, then cut two holes in your helmet and see that you can.
: The bilious bastards who wrote that stuff about individuality for the Saturday Evening Post don't know anything more about real battle than they do about fornicating.
Capt. Richard N. Jenson
: They haven't spotted our positions yet. Patton
: They will get some education in about 10 seconds when they get a dose of our artillery fire.
Lt. Col. Charles R. Codman
: G2 also reports that Hitler probably retained Rommel in Berlin because things were going badly for the Afrika Korps. He didn't want his favorite general to lose face. Patton
: Well, I'm my favorite General. I don't want to be told that some second stringer is up against me; Then *I* lose face.
: In ten days I'll have a war on with those Communist bastards, and I'll make it look like THEIR fault.
: [apologizing to his troops after the "slapping" incident
] I can assure you that I had no intention of being either harsh or cruel in my treatment of the... soldier in question. My sole purpose was to try to restore in him some sense of appreciation of his obligations as a man and as a soldier. "If one could shame a coward," I felt, "one might help him to regain his self-respect." This was on my mind. Now, I freely admit that my method was wrong, but I hope you can understand my motive. And that you will accept this explanation... and this... apology.
: Almighty and most merciful Father, we humbly beseech Thee of Thy great goodness to restrain this immoderate weather with which we have had to contend. Grant us fair weather for battle. Graciously harken to us as solders who call upon Thee that, armed with Thy power, we may advance from victory to victory, and crush the oppression and wickedness of our enemies, and establish Thy justice among men and nations. AMEN.
: [Bradley frowns as Patton pins on his new stars
] What's the matter, Brad? I've been nominated by the president. General Omar N. Bradley
: I know... but it doesn't become official until it's been approved by the Senate. Patton
: Well, they have their schedule and I have mine. General Omar N. Bradley
: [smiles wryly
] George, I think if you were named Admiral of the Turkish navy, your aides could dip into their haversacks and come up with the appropriate badges of rank. Anyway, congratulations, George...
[extends his hand, then pulls it back
] General Omar N. Bradley
: *premature* congratulations.
[shakes Patton's hand
: [Patton is apologizing to the troops after the slapping incident
] I thought I would stand here like this so you could see if I was really as big a son of a bitch as you think I am.
: The general would like to know if you will drink a toast with him. Patton
: Thank the general and tell him I have no desire to drink with him or any other Russian son of a bitch. Translator
] I can't tell him that! Patton
: Tell him, every word. Translator
: [In Russian
] He says he will not drink with you or any Russian son of a bitch. Russian general
: [In Russian
] Tell him he is a son of a bitch, too. Now! Translator
: [Very nervous
] He says he thinks you are a son of a bitch, too. Patton
] All right. All right, tell him I'll drink to that; one son of a bitch to another.
Capt. Richard N. Jenson
: What are you doing there, soldier? Soldier getting up from floor
: Trying to get some sleep, sir. Patton
: Well, get back down there, son. You're the only son of a bitch in this headquarters who knows what he's trying to do.
: You know, Dick, if I had my way, I'd meet Rommel face to face; him in his tank and me in mine. We'd meet out there somewhere... salute each other, maybe drink a toast, then we'd button up and do battle. The winner would decide the outcome of the entire war.
: I love it. God help me I do love it so. I love it more than my life.
: God, how I hate the twentieth century.
: Fixed fortifications are monuments to the stupidity of man. If mountain ranges and oceans can be overcome, then anything built by man can be overcome.
[Vice-Marshal Arthur Coningham and General Patton are discussing the lack of supporting air cover the British have been providing for American troops
] Air Vice-Marshal Sir Arthur Coningham
: I promise you one thing, General. You will see no more German planes.
[Moments later two German planes fly by overhead and begin to attack the compound, part of the ceiling in the room the two are in collapses as they scramble to take cover underneath a table
: You were discussing, uh, air supremacy, Sir Arthur?
: We're going to have to fight the Russians eventually anyway. It might as well be now while we've already got the army here to do it.
: [to his dog, named after William the Conqueror, after it is panicked by a much smaller dog
] Your name isn't William, it's Willy!
: [as he watches Moroccan soldiers taking part in a parade
] Magnificent! I wish our troops looked that good!
Gen. Sir Harold Alexander
: You know, George, you'd have made a great Marshal for Napoleon, if you'd lived in the 18th Century. Patton
: Oh, but I did, Sir Alex, I did.
Lt. Col. Charles R. Codman
: [Codman is handed a letter while riding through the newly liberated Palermo
] This is from from General Alexander, sir, reminding you that you are not to take Palermo. Patton
: Send him a message, Cod. Ask him if he wants me to give it back.
Sgt. William Meeks
: [to Patton, after the slapping incident got him relieved of command of the Seventh Army
] One little dogface... one measly slap... that's what done it. Patton
] Ah, George... I wish I'd *kissed* the son-of-a bitch.
: This is where it pays off, the training and the discipline. No other outfit in the world could pull out of a winter battle, move a hundred miles, go into a major attack with no rest, no sleep, no hot food. God... God, I'm proud of these men!
: General, we're told of wonder weapons the Germans were working on: Long-range rockets, push-button bombing weapons that don't need soldiers. What's your take on that? Patton
: Wonder weapons? My God, I don't see the wonder in them. Killing without heroics. Nothing is glorified, nothing is reaffirmed. No heroes, no cowards, no troops. No generals. Only those that are left alive and those that are left... dead.
Colonel Gaston Bell
: General McAuliffe refused a German surrender demand. You know what he said? Patton
: What? Colonel Gaston Bell
: "Nuts!" Patton
] Keep them moving, colonel. A man that eloquent has to be saved.
: Look at that, gentlemen. Compared to war, all other forms of human endeavor shrink to insignificance.
Lt. Col. Charles R. Codman
: Shall I call the artist back sir? Patton
: To hell with it. Nobody wants to see a picture of me, I'm mad! Didn't you know that?
: We've been told about these wonder weapons the Germans were working on - long range rockets, push button bombing, weapons that don't need soldiers... Patton
: "Wonder weapons"? By God, I don't see the wonder in them. Killing without heroics? Nothing is glorified? Nothing is reaffirmed? No heroes, no cowards, no troops, no generals. Only those who are left alive, and those who are left... dead. I'm glad I won't live to see it.
: [the Chaplain has delivered a weather prayer, and the weather has cleared
] Go find me that Chaplain!... He stands in good with the Lord, and I want to decorate him!
: [Upon entering his hotel room in London
] Who picked out this cathouse? Lt. Col. Charles R. Codman
: I believe it was General Smith. Patton
: He did it to spite me, that son of a bitch.
[General Bidell Smith walks in
: I want a prayer... A weather prayer. Third Army Chaplain
: A weather prayer, sir? Patton
: Yes... Let's see if we can't get God helping us with this thing. Third Army Chaplain
: It'll take a pretty thick rug for that kind of prayer. Patton
: I don't care if it takes a flying carpet.
: Bedell? Maj. Gen. Walter Bedell Smith
: Ike is furious. How could you possibly compare the Republicans and Democrats to the Nazi Party? And this statement that you refuse to denazify has everybody screaming, the Russians, the British, everybody. Patton
: Well, the hell with the Mongoloid Russians. We've given them Berlin, we've given them Prague, God knows what else. Are we gonna let them dictate policy too? Maj. Gen. Walter Bedell Smith
: George, don't be a fool. The war in Europe is over. Washington dictates policy Patton
: Well the war shouldn't be over. We should stop pussyfooting about the God damn Russians! We're gonna have to fight them sooner or later anyway. Why not do it now, when we got the the army here to do it with? lnstead of disarming these German Troops we oughta get them to help us fight the damn Bolsheviks. Maj. Gen. Walter Bedell Smith
: George you had better shut up this line may be tapped. Patton
: I don't give a damn if it is. I'll tell you something Bedell, up until now we've been fighting the wrong people. Look, you and Ike don't have to get involved, you're so damn soft about it. You leave it to me. In 10 days I'll have us a war with those sonsofbitches and I'll make it look like their fault! Maj. Gen. Walter Bedell Smith
: George, you're mad. You're absolutely out of your mind! Patton
: Well, I'm no diplomat! I'm a combat soldier. That's all these jokers understand. You get Ike to give me the word, and I'll kick their behinds back into Russia where they belong!
: God bless the United States of America and death to all our enemies.
] George Patton
: Including that low down greaser Pancho Villa.
: Who are these people? General George S. Patton
: They're not people, they're the ACLU!
Gen. Hobart 'Hap' Gay
: [to Patton about Bedell Smith
] Watch out for Bedell... He's Ikes personal hatchet man. General George S. Patton Jr.
: A son-of-a-bitch is what he is.
Gen. George S. Patton
: The CID is so irresponsible, they couldn't find horseshit in a stable.