General George Patton

Assassinated by William J. Donovan

"Evidently the virus started by Morgenthau and Baruch of a Semitic revenge against all Germans is still working. Harrison (a U.S. State Department official) and his associates indicate that they feel German civilians should be removed from houses for the purpose of housing Displaced Persons. There are two errors in this assumption. First, when we remove an individual German we punish an individual German, while the punishment is -- not intended for the individual but for the race. Furthermore, it is against my Anglo-Saxon conscience to remove a person from a house, which is a punishment, without due process of law. In the second place, Harrison and his ilk believe that the Displaced Person is a human being, which he is not, and this applies particularly to the Jews, who are lower than animals."

 

"We fought the war of 1776 for independence. We fought the Civil War to free the slaves. We fought the war of 1812 to make the world safe for democracy. We fought this war to lose everything we had gained from the other three."

 

"OSS (Office of Strategic Services) agent Douglas Bazata on September 25, 1979 told 450 invited guests at the Hilton Hotel in Washington, DC, that OSS head William Donovan paid him $10,000 to kill Gen. George Patton. Bazata also gave this information to THE WASHINGTON STAR!"

 

bulletGeneral Wild Bill Donovan ordered the assassination of Patton.
bulletEisenhower, *anchor* man in his West Point class, was a filthy kike.
bulletDouglas Bazata--paid assassin.

atton Was A High Profile War Hero

One of the few with political pot

Who Benefits From His Death?

Eisenhower and his backers

There Are Too Many Rumors

There is a real possibility that Patton was assassinated. As far as the official story goes, who really knows how true it  was. You can be sure there were a few deaths that had to be reinvented or altered, because of 'inconvenient' circumstances.

The real question is, why would you assassinate a four star general?

 

Eisenhower Had A Lot Of Baggage

Eisenhower was promoted by Bernard Baruch, over 356 more qualified commanders.

Eisenhower The Soldier

He first assignment was to London, where he lived in the palatial Dorchester hotel. He was assigned a driver/companion, Kay Somersby, a married 26 yr old model.

 

Eisenhower And Churchill

Churchill was a debaucherous drunkard, whose mother was a Jewess. He ran the show, with Eisenhower playing the sycophant. Patton made his distaste of Churchill public.

Eisenhower's First Battle Command Was Operation Torch

The Allies wanted Tunis as a staging base for the Sicily invasion

He Sat In Gibraltar

800 Miles From The Front

In the North Africa campaign, Eisenhower went to Gibraltar, built a fortified bunker, threw tantrums, and blamed his generals, and his soldiers, for his battle fiascos.  Rommel annihilated a US battalion at Kasserine Pass, because Eisenhower didn't use reconnaissance, or provide air cover.

Eisenhower's incompetence, his remote headquarters, and his flaunting of  Kay Summersby, infuriated the commanders.

Patton Brought To Africa

Patton arrived and cleaned up Eisenhower's mess.

 

Other Generals Wanted Eisenhower Removed

Eisenhower botched everything, blaming his generals, and US soldiers.  Roosevelt had to fly over to Tunis, and stop a mutiny over his Kasserine Pass debacle.

After the battle, Eisenhower swaggered around Tunis with Summersby, as he reviewed the parades.

Eisenhower Goes Back To  London

Eisenhower lives at Telegraph Cottage, a ten acre Country Estate, outside of London. He attends dinner parties, and is an embarrassment, whipping around London in his staff car, flags flying, with his British Mistress at the wheel.

 

Eisenhower's Fashion Model Companion

After North Africa, and Sicily, he returns with his 26 yr old mistress.

In 1943 Eisenhower is the Supreme Commander of the Allied forces in Europe.Gen. Montgomery considered Eisenhower a clown.

 

 

 

 

Ike And Kay's Love Nest

Long horse rides, card games, and snuggles

 

 

 

Arguing In Public

She got hammered at a party, and told an aide about 'Ikie' and his bed habits, how he would get a little too excited, and she got left panting. Somersby wrote a book 'Past Forgetting' on their affair.

 

 

 

 

Patton Was A Field Commander

He was in practically ever major battle, even the Germans respected him.

Patton Invades Sicily

He drove up the coast and took Messina. While visiting an army hospital he slapped a Charles H. Kuhl, calling him a 'Yellow Belly Jew Coward'. A reporter, David Katz, broke the story and Patton was relieved of duty.

 

Patton Was Repulsed By Stalin

Patton, who was 6', considered Stalin a 5' 6" squinty eyed Bolshevik. He was infuriated over operation Keelhaul, and Eisenhower's death camps.

Battle Of The Bulge -Eisenhower's Blunder

Hitler built a massive offensive, hid it in the Ardennes forest, while Eisenhower was at Telegraph cottage, with Summersby, and his dog 'Telek'.

Patton warned Eisenhower about the possibility of a German attack. Patton took Bastogne, and saved Eisenhower from a real catastrophe.

If Hitler had captured Antwerp, it could have cost 200,000 American lives, and resulted in a negotiated surrender. As it was, there were 81,000 US casualties, with 18,000 dead.

 

Eisenhower's Other Involvements

FIREBOMBING OF GERMANY: --World Jewry demanded revenge for being taken out of their ghettos, and being put in work camps.

OERATION KEELHAUL:  --- Eisenhower rounded up 1.5 million anti-communist refugees, shipped them to Stalin, and they were sent to the gulags, and killed.

DEATH CAMPS: ---- Eisenhower had 1.4 million Germans soldiers put into open fields, and the death told was over a million.

EUROPE FOR THE JEWS: ----Eisenhower told Patton to throw Germans out of their houses, and jobs, and install Jews. Patton refused and was demoted.

Back In America

The Jewish interests  pushed the 'Morgenthau Plan', which wanted Germans sterilized, their industries wrecked, and the country divided into three parts.

 There was movement, 'America First', that was looking for a candidate.

 

Henry Morgenthau

The Main Suspects

Patton died of heart failure. Most feel his murder was orchestrated by Roosevelt's hand picked OSS agent,

 

Patton Was Too Dangerous

Eisenhower was a clown, and it was the Jewish press that made him a hero. If Patton had political backing, he could have savaged Eisenhower.

Patton wasn't just a soldier, he was an actor, and a political candidate. He saw himself as the ancient Roman conquering hero, another Caesar.

Patton detested Eisenhower, he saw the Soviets as the real enemy, and would have entered the race. Maybe a Patton-Lindberg ticket, backed by Henry Ford's crowd.

 

Los Angeles - June 12,1945

 

Full Version Below

The 'Unedited' Speech From The Movie

Somewhere in England

June 5th, 1944

 

The big camp buzzed with a tension. For hundreds of eager rookies, newly arrived from the states, it was a great day in their lives. This day marked their first taste of the "real thing". Now they were not merely puppets in brown uniforms. They were not going through the motions of soldiering with three thousand miles of ocean between them and English soil. They were actually in the heart of England itself. They were waiting for the arrival of that legendary figure, Lieutenant General George S. Patton, Jr. Old "Blood and Guts" himself, about whom many a colorful chapter would be written for the school boys of tomorrow. Patton of the brisk, purposeful stride. Patton of the harsh, compelling voice, the lurid vocabulary, the grim and indomitable spirit that carried him and his Army to glory in Africa and Sicily. They called him "America's Fightingest General". He was no desk commando. He was the man who was sent for when the going got rough and a fighter was needed. He was the most hated and feared American of all on the part of the German Army.

Patton was coming and the stage was being set. He would address a move which might have a far reaching effect on the global war that, at the moment, was a TOP-SECRET in the files in Washington, D.C.

By now the rumor had gotten around that Lieutenant General Simpson, Commanding General of the Fourth Army, was to be with General Patton. The men stirred expectantly. Two of the big boys in one day!

"We are here", said General Simpson, "to listen to the words of a great man. A man who will lead you all into whatever you may face with heroism, ability, and foresight. A man who has proven himself amid shot and shell. My greatest hope is that some day soon, I will have my own Army fighting with his, side by side."

General Patton arose and strode swiftly to the microphone. The men snapped to their feet and stood silently. Patton surveyed the sea of brown with a grim look. "Be seated", he said. The words were not a request, but a command. The General's voice rose high and clear.

"Men, this stuff that some sources sling around about America wanting out of this war, not wanting to fight, is a crock of bullshit. Americans love to fight, traditionally. All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle. You are here today for three reasons. First, because you are here to defend your homes and your loved ones. Second, you are here for your own self respect, because you would not want to be anywhere else. Third, you are here because you are real men and all real men like to fight. When you, here, everyone of you, were kids, you all admired the champion marble player, the fastest runner, the toughest boxer, the big league ball players, and the All-American football players. Americans love a winner. Americans will not tolerate a loser. Americans despise cowards. Americans play to win all of the time. I wouldn't give a hoot in hell for a man who lost and laughed. That's why Americans have never lost nor will ever lose a war; for the very idea of losing is hateful to an American."

The General paused and looked over the crowd. "You are not all going to die," he said slowly. "Only two percent of you right here today would die in a major battle. Death must not be feared. Death, in time, comes to all men. Yes, every man is scared in his first battle. If he says he's not, he's a liar. Some men are cowards but they fight the same as the brave men or they get the hell slammed out of them watching men fight who are just as scared as they are. The real hero is the man who fights even though he is scared. Some men get over their fright in a minute under fire. For some, it takes an hour. For some, it takes days. But a real man will never let his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood. Battle is the most magnificent competition in which a human being can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base. Americans pride themselves on being He Men and they ARE He Men. Remember that the enemy is just as frightened as you are, and probably more so. They are not supermen."

"All through your Army careers, you men have bitched about what you call "chicken shit drilling". That, like everything else in this Army, has a definite purpose. That purpose is alertness. Alertness must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a fuck for a man who's not always on his toes. You men are veterans or you wouldn't be here. You are ready for what's to come. A man must be alert at all times if he expects to stay alive. If you're not alert, sometime, a German son-of-an-asshole-bitch is going to sneak up behind you and beat you to death with a sockful of shit!" The men roared in agreement.

Patton's grim expression did not change. "There are four hundred neatly marked graves somewhere in Sicily", he roared into the microphone, "All because one man went to sleep on the job". He paused and the men grew silent. "But they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before they did".

The General clutched the microphone tightly, his jaw out-thrust, and he continued, "An Army is a team. It lives, sleeps, eats, and fights as a team. This individual heroic stuff is pure horse shit. The bilious bastards who write that kind of stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don't know any more about real fighting under fire than they know about fucking!"

The men slapped their legs and rolled in glee. This was Patton as the men had imagined him to be, and in rare form, too. He hadn't let them down. He was all that he was cracked up to be, and more. He had IT!

"We have the finest food, the finest equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the world", Patton bellowed. He lowered his head and shook it pensively. Suddenly he snapped erect, faced the men belligerently and thundered, "Why, by God, I actually pity those poor sons-of-bitches we're going up against. By God, I do". The men clapped and howled delightedly. There would be many a barracks tale about the "Old Man's" choice phrases. They would become part and parcel of Third Army's history and they would become the bible of their slang.

"My men don't surrender", Patton continued, "I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he has been hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight back. That's not just bull shit either. The kind of man that I want in my command is just like the lieutenant in Libya, who, with a Luger against his chest, jerked off his helmet, swept the gun aside with one hand, and busted the hell out of the Kraut with his helmet. Then he jumped on the gun and went out and killed another German before they knew what the hell was coming off. And, all of that time, this man had a bullet through a lung. There was a real man!"

Patton stopped and the crowd waited. He continued more quietly, "All of the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters, either. Every single man in this Army plays a vital role. Don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. Every man has a job to do and he must do it. Every man is a vital link in the great chain. What if every truck driver suddenly decided that he didn't like the whine of those shells overhead, turned yellow, and jumped headlong into a ditch? The cowardly bastard could say, "Hell, they won't miss me, just one man in thousands". But, what if every man thought that way? Where in the hell would we be now? What would our country, our loved ones, our homes, even the world, be like? No, Goddamnit, Americans don't think like that. Every man does his job. Every man serves the whole. Every department, every unit, is important in the vast scheme of this war. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns and machinery of war to keep us rolling. The Quartermaster is needed to bring up food and clothes because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last man on K.P. has a job to do, even the one who heats our water to keep us from getting the 'G.I. Shits'."

Patton paused, took a deep breath, and continued, "Each man must not think only of himself, but also of his buddy fighting beside him. We don't want yellow cowards in this Army. They should be killed off like rats. If not, they will go home after this war and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the Goddamned cowards and we will have a nation of brave men. One of the bravest men that I ever saw was a fellow on top of a telegraph pole in the midst of a furious fire fight in Tunisia. I stopped and asked what the hell he was doing up there at a time like that. He answered, "Fixing the wire, Sir". I asked, "Isn't that a little unhealthy right about now?" He answered, "Yes Sir, but the Goddamned wire has to be fixed". I asked, "Don't those planes strafing the road bother you?" And he answered, "No, Sir, but you sure as hell do!" Now, there was a real man. A real soldier. There was a man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty might appear at the time, no matter how great the odds. And you should have seen those trucks on the rode to Tunisia. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they rolled over those son-of-a-bitching roads, never stopping, never faltering from their course, with shells bursting all around them all of the time. We got through on good old American guts. Many of those men drove for over forty consecutive hours. These men weren't combat men, but they were soldiers with a job to do. They did it, and in one hell of a way they did it. They were part of a team. Without team effort, without them, the fight would have been lost. All of the links in the chain pulled together and the chain became unbreakable."

The General paused and stared challengingly over the silent ocean of men. One could have heard a pin drop anywhere on that vast hillside. The only sound was the stirring of the breeze in the leaves of the bordering trees and the busy chirping of the birds in the branches of the trees at the General's left.

"Don't forget," Patton barked, "you men don't know that I'm here. No mention of that fact is to be made in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell happened to me. I'm not supposed to be commanding this Army. I'm not even supposed to be here in England. Let the first bastards to find out be the Goddamned Germans. Some day I want to see them raise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl, 'Jesus Christ, it's the Goddamned Third Army again and that son-of-a-fucking-bitch Patton'."

"We want to get the hell over there", Patton continued, "The quicker we clean up this Goddamned mess, the quicker we can take a little jaunt against the purple pissing Japs and clean out their nest, too. Before the Goddamned Marines get all of the credit."

The men roared approval and cheered delightedly. This statement had real significance behind it. Much more than met the eye and the men instinctively sensed the fact. They knew that they themselves were going to play a very great part in the making of world history. They were being told as much right now. Deep sincerity and seriousness lay behind the General's colorful words. The men knew and understood it. They loved the way he put it, too, as only he could.

Patton continued quietly, "Sure, we want to go home. We want this war over with. The quickest way to get it over with is to go get the bastards who started it. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we can go home. The shortest way home is through Berlin and Tokyo. And when we get to Berlin", he yelled, "I am personally going to shoot that paper hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler. Just like I'd shoot a snake!"

"When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a German will get to him eventually. The hell with that idea. The hell with taking it. My men don't dig foxholes. I don't want them to. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. And don't give the enemy time to dig one either. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and by showing the Germans that we've got more guts than they have; or ever will have. We're not going to just shoot the sons-of-bitches, we're going to rip out their living Goddamned guts and use them to grease the treads of our tanks. We're going to murder those lousy Hun cocksuckers by the bushel-fucking-basket. War is a bloody, killing business. You've got to spill their blood, or they will spill yours. Rip them up the belly. Shoot them in the guts. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt off your face and realize that instead of dirt it's the blood and guts of what once was your best friend beside you, you'll know what to do!"

"I don't want to get any messages saying, "I am holding my position." We are not holding a Goddamned thing. Let the Germans do that. We are advancing constantly and we are not interested in holding onto anything, except the enemy's balls. We are going to twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all of the time. Our basic plan of operation is to advance and to keep on advancing regardless of whether we have to go over, under, or through the enemy. We are going to go through him like crap through a goose; like shit through a tin horn!"

"From time to time there will be some complaints that we are pushing our people too hard. I don't give a good Goddamn about such complaints. I believe in the old and sound rule that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder WE push, the more Germans we will kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that."

The General paused. His eagle like eyes swept over the hillside. He said with pride, "There is one great thing that you men will all be able to say after this war is over and you are home once again. You may be thankful that twenty years from now when you are sitting by the fireplace with your grandson on your knee and he asks you what you did in the great World War II, you WON'T have to cough, shift him to the other knee and say, "Well, your Granddaddy shoveled shit in Louisiana." No, Sir, you can look him straight in the eye and say, "Son, your Granddaddy rode with the Great Third Army and a Son-of-a-Goddamned-Bitch named Georgie Patton!"