George joined the Army and took par in the Pancho Villa Expedition of 1916, the United States' first military action using motor vehicles.
NOTE:
The Pancho Villa Expedition—now known officially in the United States as the Mexican Expedition, but originally referred to as the "Punitive Expedition, U.S. Army" — was a military operation conducted by the United States Army against the paramilitary forces of Mexican revolutionary Francisco "Pancho" Villa from 14th March 1916 to 7th February 1917, during the Mexican Revolution of 1910–1920.
The expedition was launched in retaliation for Villa's attack on the town of Columbus, New Mexico, and was the most remembered event of the Mexican Border War. The declared objective of the expedition by the Wilson administration was the capture of Villa. Despite locating and defeating the main body of Villa's command who were responsible for the Columbus raid, U.S. forces were unable to achieve Wilson's stated main objective of preventing Villa's escape.
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| Patton at Bourg in France in 1918 with a Renault FT light tank |
First World War
After the Villa Expedition, George was posted to Front Royal, Virginia, to oversee horse procurement for the army, but Pershing intervened on his behalf and when the United States entered the First World war in April 1917, and Pershing was named commander of the American Expeditionary Forces (AEF) on the Western Front, George requested to join his staff.
George was promoted to the rank of Captain on 15th May 1917 and left for Europe, among the 180 men of Pershing's advance party which departed on 28th May and arrived in Liverpool, UK, on 8th June. As Pershing's personal aide, George oversaw the training of American troops in Paris until September, then moved to Chaumont and was assigned as a post adjutant, commanding the headquarters company overseeing the base.
While in hospital recovering from jaundice, George met Colonel Fox Conner, who encouraged him to work with tanks instead of infantry.
George fought in WW1 as part of the new United States Tank Corps of the American Expeditionary Forces. He commanded the U.S. tank school in France, then led tanks into combat and was wounded towards the end of the war.
George was wounded by machine-gun fire in the Meuse-Argonne offensive. He was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross.
He was also a poet. Here is one of his poems:
"Through a Glass, Darkly"
Through the travail of the ages,
Midst the pomp and toil of war,
I have fought and strove and perished
Countless times upon this star.
In the form of many people
In all panoplies of time
Have I seen the luring vision
Of the Victory Maid, sublime.
I have battled for fresh mammoth,
I have warred for pastures new,
I have listened to the whispers
When the race trek instinct grew.
I have known the call to battle
In each changeless changing shape
From the high souled voice of conscience
To the beastly lust for rape.
I have sinned and I have suffered,
Played the hero and the knave;
Fought for belly, shame, or country,
And for each have found a grave.
I cannot name my battles
For the visions are not clear,
Yet, I see the twisted faces
And I feel the rending spear.
Perhaps I stabbed our Savior
In His sacred helpless side.
Yet, I’ve called His name in blessing
When in after times I died.
In the dimness of the shadows
Where we hairy heathens warred,
I can taste in thought the lifeblood;
We used teeth before the sword.
While in later clearer vision
I can sense the coppery sweat,
Feel the pikes grow wet and slippery
When our Phalanx, Cyrus met.
Hear the rattle of the harness
Where the Persian darts bounced clear,
See their chariots wheel in panic
From the Hoplite’s leveled spear.
See the goal grow monthly longer,
Reaching for the walls of Tyre.
Hear the crash of tons of granite,
Smell the quenchless eastern fire.
Still more clearly as a Roman,
Can I see the Legion close,
As our third rank moved in forward
And the short sword found our foes.
Once again I feel the anguish
Of that blistering treeless plain
When the Parthian showered death bolts,
And our discipline was in vain.
I remember all the suffering
Of those arrows in my neck.
Yet, I stabbed a grinning savage
As I died upon my back.
Once again I smell the heat sparks
When my Flemish plate gave way
And the lance ripped through my entrails
As on Crecy’s field I lay.
In the windless, blinding stillness
Of the glittering tropic sea
I can see the bubbles rising
Where we set the captives free.
Midst the spume of half a tempest
I have heard the bulwarks go
When the crashing, point blank round shot
Sent destruction to our foe.
I have fought with gun and cutlass
On the red and slippery deck
With all Hell aflame within me
And a rope around my neck.
And still later as a General
Have I galloped with Murat
When we laughed at death and numbers
Trusting in the Emperor's Star.
Till at last our star faded,
And we shouted to our doom
Where the sunken road of Ohein
Closed us in its quivering gloom.
So but now with Tanks a’clatter
Have I waddled on the foe
Belching death at twenty paces,
By the star shell’s ghastly glow.
So as through a glass, and darkly
The age long strife I see
Where I fought in many guises,
Many names, but always me.
And I see not in my blindness
What the objects were I wrought,
But as God rules o’er our bickerings
It was through His will I fought.
So forever in the future,
Shall I battle as of yore,
Dying to be born a fighter,
But to die again, once more.
Prioli, Carmine A. (1991). “The Poems of General George S. Patton, Jr.”: Lines of Fire. New York: Edwin Mellen Press. ISBN 978-0889461628.
https://www.military.com/daily-news/2018/11/11/legendary-general-patton-hated-peace-so-much-he-wrote-poem-about-it.html
George Smith Patton Jr. (November 11, 1885 – December 21, 1945) became a General in the United States Army and commanded the Seventh Army in the Mediterranean Theatre of The Second World War and commanded the Third Army in France and Germany after the Allied invasion of Normandy in June 1944.
