Patton

Ten-hut!

Be seated.

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.

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.

Now...

...an army is a team.

It lives, eats, sleeps,

fights as a team.

This individuality stuff

is a bunch of crap.

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.

Now we have the finest food

and equipment...

...the best spirit...

...and the best men in the world.

You know...

...by God, I actually pity those poor

bastards we're going up against.

By God, I do.

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 of our tanks.

We're going to murder those lousy

Hun bastards by the bushel.

Now...

...some of you boys...

...I know are wondering...

...whether or not you'll chicken out

under fire. Don't worry about it.

I can assure you...

...that you will all do your duty.

The Nazis...

...are the enemy.

Wade into them!

Spill their blood!

Shoot them in the belly!

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.

There's another thing

I want you to remember.

I don't want to get any messages

saying we are "holding our position. "

We're not "holding" anything.

Let the Hun do that.

We're advancing constantly. We're not

interested in holding on to anything...

...except the enemy.

We're going to hold on to him

by the nose and 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!

Now...

...there's one thing...

...that you men will be able to say

when you get back home.

And you may thank God for it.

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 ll?"

You won't have to say:

"Well...

...I shovelled sh*t in Louisiana. "

All right, now, you sons of b*tches...

...you know how I feel.

I will be proud...

...to lead you wonderful guys

into battle anytime...

...anywhere.

That's all.

The Arabs need food and clothing.

They strip our dead before

we can even bury them.

Looks like the reports were

pretty accurate.

Sixty-one armored vehicles,

45 tons of ammunition...

...twenty-five 40mm guns,

three self-propelled 105s.

Not counting mortars, machine guns,

rifles...

...pistols, telescopes, belt buckles,

Gl socks.

One thousand, eight hundred men.

Our people salute you, general...

...for your brilliant amphibious

landing on the continent of Africa...

...and for your enlightened

administration of our country.

I've enjoyed being here, Excellency.

Naturally, I'd prefer to be in Tunisia

fighting the Germans.

"The lions in their dens

tremble at his approach. "

I appreciate that, Excellency.

Magnificent!

I wish our troops looked that good.

Tell me, general,

what do you think of Morocco?

I love it, Excellency.

It's a combination

of the Bible and Hollywood.

These men fight at Kasserine?

Yes, sir.

For the American Army to take

a licking like that...

...the first time at bat

against the Germans...

Up against Rommel, what we need

is the best tank man we've got.

Somebody tough enough

to pull this outfit together.

- Patton?

- Possibly.

God help us.

Lieutenant...

...where is the duty officer?

Sir...

- He said he's caught at shaving.

- Why isn't he here on duty?

Guess he needed a shave.

We got a new commanding general

due today.

Who the hell is kicking me

in the butt?

Oh, sorry, sir.

- What were you doing down there?

- Trying to get some sleep, sir.

Well...

Get back down there, son.

You're the only son of a b*tch here

who knows what he's trying to do.

Yes, sir.

Brad, how the hell are you?

- Fine, George. Good to see you.

We were all under the impression

you wouldn't be here until 0900.

Yes, I gathered that.

- You know my boy, Dick Jenson.

- Yes.

Brad, tell me.

- What are you doing here?

- Ike wanted a report on Kasserine.

Meanwhile, I have to stay here

as an observer...

...but I report directly to Ike.

You're spying.

Get me General Eisenhower's

headquarters.

Tell me, Brad...

...what happened at Kasserine?

I heard it was a shambles.

Apparently, everything went wrong.

We'd send over a 75mm shell,

the krauts would return an 88.

Their tanks are diesels.

Even when we managed to hit one

they kept on running. Our tanks...

The men call them

"Purple Heart boxes. "

One hot piece of shrapnel

and the gasoline explodes.

I warned them about the tank.

I taIked to one of the

soldiers about the half-tracks.

I asked them if the machine-gun

bullets pierced the armor.

And he said, "No, sir.

They just come through one side

and rattle around a bit. "

I understand they had a little trouble

coordinating the air cover.

The trouble was no air cover.

- General Smith on the line, sir.

- Excuse me, Brad.

Bedell?

Listen, I'm calling about Bradley

and his job here.

I need a good number-two man, I want

to make Brad my deputy commander.

You clear it with Ike?

All right, thanks, Bedell.

Now you're not spying for Eisenhower

anymore, you're working for me.

- Okay?

- Fine, okay.

Dick. You got those stars?

- Yes, sir.

- Let's get them on.

What's the matter, Brad?

I've been nominated by the president.

I know, but it doesn't become official

until it's approved by the Senate.

Well...

...they have their schedule

and I have mine.

George...

...if you were named admiral

of the Turkish Navy...

...I believe your aides could dip

into their haversacks...

...and come up with the appropriate

badge of rank.

Anyway, congratulations.

Premature congratulations.

You know...

I think those stars look better

on a green shirt.

Did I ever tell you about the time I

designed a uniform for tank crewmen?

It was green leather,

it had red stripes...

...and sort of a row of brass buttons

down across here.

And topped off

by a gold football helmet.

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