'We've got a terrible situation with this great patriot, he's out of control and we must save him from himself'.
The OSS head General did not trust Patton
Posted on 12/20/2008 6:04:53 PM PST by bruinbirdman
The newly unearthed diaries of a colourful assassin for the wartime Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the forerunner of the CIA, reveal that American spy chiefs wanted Patton dead because he was threatening to expose allied collusion with Russians that cost American lives.
'We've got a terrible situation with this great patriot, he's out of control and we must save him from himself'.
The OSS head General did not trust Patton
The death of General Patton in December 1945, is one of the enduring mysteries of the war era. Although he had suffered serious injuries in a car crash in Manheim, he was thought to be recovering and was on the verge of flying home.
But after a decade-long investigation, military historian Robert Wilcox claims that OSS head General "Wild Bill" Donovan ordered a highly decorated marksman called Douglas Bazata to silence Patton, who gloried in the nickname "Old Blood and Guts".
His book, "Target Patton", contains interviews with Mr Bazata, who died in 1999, and extracts from his diaries, detailing how he staged the car crash by getting a troop truck to plough into Patton's Cadillac and then shot the general with a low-velocity projectile, which broke his neck while his fellow passengers escaped without a scratch.
Mr Bazata also suggested that when Patton began to recover from his injuries, US officials turned a blind eye as agents of the NKVD, the forerunner of the KGB, poisoned the general.
Mr Wilcox told The Sunday Telegraph that when he spoke to Mr Bazata: "He was struggling with himself, all these killings he had done. He confessed to me that he had caused the accident, that he was ordered to do so by Wild Bill Donovan.
"Donovan told him: 'We've got a terrible situation with
(Excerpt) Read more at telegraph.co.uk ...
I saw some footage of that. Always remarkable to me how well Scott nailed the character, but he didn’t get the midwestern Kansas twang. Sort of like Lincoln apparently had a voice unlike any we might imagine of him, but with Patton there are some recordings.
“The death of General Patton in December 1945, is one of the enduring mysteries of the war era. Although he had suffered serious injuries in a car crash in Manheim, he was thought to be recovering and was on the verge of flying home.”
It’s called “taking a turn for the worse”, it happens and is no great “mystery”.
The M1913 “Patton” Saber
http://www.pattonhq.com/sword.html
A man of many talents..
Best biography..
A Genius for War
Carlo D’este
FDR was quite fond of “Uncle Joe” Stalin.
“The fact Patton’s wife was at his bedside in his final hours obviously has been overlooked.”
Interesting fact: Beatrice Patton had gone out to dinner when the end came. When she came back, he was gone. Patton supposedly died alone.
Exactly right. I’d love to sit down with “Georgie” but wouldn’t address him as such.
I remember the Colby event. You are probably right about his death, but that does not change my opinion about Patton’s demise.
We have had others, but those were like the Arkincides of recent times.
No, I do not believe that Vince Foster shot himself in Ft. Marcy Park.
During WWII my father’s company was camped across the lake from Patton’s headquarters and has some colorful stories about incidents with him. My father’s CO had boat races with Patton on the lake. Everyone knew what a character he was, but would follow him directly into hell without questioning.
Through the travail of the ages, Midst the pomp and toil of war, Have I 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 listed 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 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 it's 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.
Aah, I think it more likely our so-called “allies” or the werewolves were the culprits. These things happen — IIRC, Stonewall Jackson was supposedly on the mend from his wound when he suddenly worsened and died. And, IINM, there still wasn’t any penicillin in ‘45, at least not much.
Could have been ricin or something like that.
My dad served under him, as a lowly 1st lt. He didn't love him or hate him, said he was a brilliant general but 'peculiar as hell' was the way he put it.
Were they really cousins? I have never heard of this.
The German general staff also saw that opportunity and couldn't understand why the Western Allies persisted in a broad, slow advance across France.
Is that why he gave him the concessions at Yalta? That was a real black mark on U.S. History.
Now,just a gol’darn minute. Eisenhower won the war. franklin d Russiafeldt gave europe to the communists.
Standing in a dusty street, aiming and firing like a gunslinger, which he probably would have been if he had been born 30 years earlier. Then he tied the bodies to the front of his staff car like dead deer and carted them back to base as trophies.
Yeah, but I wonder who was the better Patton: George S. or George C.? :)
While I am very skeptical of this claim, unfortunately, the OSS and CIA havae a long history of bungled exploits, and it is not clear that when the dust settles on the history of thie era whether on balance they will not have been found to have done an awful lot more harm than good in WWII and the Cold War.
Sadly, as much as I liked Ike,
I’ve had to face the fact that he was a puppet like all the rest.
Read the quotes linked in my tag line and you’ll see what I mean.
Patton had a rather high voice as opposed to George C. Scott’s more gravelly one.
Carlo D’Este’s biography is excellent. One of his arguments is that Patton was dyslexic, which contributed to some of his idiosynchrisies. However, he was a very learned historian and war stategist. Brilliant man.
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