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.
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The featured image of George S. Patton is in the public domain, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.
I know next to nothing of General Patton (too many books, too little time) but this poem gives a glimpse into his own study of both literature and history. Well done Sir!
Patton was very literate, as the poem does show, and as well appeared to believe in previous lives. He did believe in the possibility of a previous life and also wanted to turn East against the Soviets, a war he thought inevitable.
The form and meter of General Patton’s haunting poem remind me of Rudyard Kipling’s work.
Patton believed 100% in his own reincarnation and past lives. He was asked by his nephew if he believed in reincarnation. He responded that he didn’t know about other people but it was absolute fact that he had many past lives. He had many visions of being a warrior on many a different battle Fields. This poem though beautifully written is not just artistic but is basically an autobiography of his visions. This is what I have just recently learned about the man. I’ve known of his accomplishments and stature since childhood but I’m just now learning of his unshakable belief in God and reincarnation.
Reincarnation is thought to be impossible under Christian belief, but I beg to differ. The Bible tells us that John the baptist was the reincarnated Elijah. George Patton was convinced of his own reincarnation and he was a fine Christian man. Does this mean that all are reincarnated? Not necessarily. Simply put, some get it right the first time.
Hebrews 9:27 proves that reincarnation is false. People “thought” or “believed” that John the Baptist was a reincarnated Elijah.
Long a mystic with both waking and sleeping dreams of past lives, I finally decided to read Gen. Patton’s poem in its entirety and this is where I found it first. Not ironically, perhaps, I think of myself as an imaginative liberal, yet crave civility in discourse and all other human matters.
Perhaps in our inner poets, solutions lie. These are hard days in our young republic: ones in which too few of the young know of battles past or the stalwart minds and bodies why brought to us such freedom. Here’s to reaching across aisles, tables and centuries for peace and what’s right.
Thanks sincerely,
Brett Butler
America’s best.
I feel as though Patton wrote this poem for me. It seems as not just a poem but a map of sorts.
Perhaps God was speaking through Patton here? I would think that to us humans God’s map looks like a work of art.
Such a great and appropriate poem. He put the soul of battle into a few simple words. :Airborne.”
I have known this poem and its simple truth for most if my life. In this time of needed change, as our society has this opportunity to fulfill its potential, I am guided by my own visions of the past. I would hope that all people would read these words in reflection of where we have been, and where we should truly go to create a more just and verdant world.
I’ve always been chilled to the bone by this great poem. And such a great man. A real renaissance man but so different than most. Although he had flaws like we all do, a pure American genius and hero and artist, not to mention a brilliant General. Maybe the best American General ever
There is NO reincarnation. As good as Patton was he was confused about that issue.
The man saw it up close and very, very personally. It is not for me to assert the correctness of a man whose shoes most men wouldn’t have been qualified to shine.
It is no mistake to see past, present and future as part of the same thing. By Patton’s reckoning, war comes down, eternally, to the visceral—absolute and unchanging.
I think that Patton was like King David. Just like Rommel’s historian said, he prays on his knees and curses like a stable boy. As imperfect as he was he was a man after God’s own heart.
If this doesn’t make a person THINK, nothing will.
Patton knew what we all secretly knows. Nothing ends. Nothing begins. All life just changes into other forms for us to continue in our strife and glories. What gifts we were given for this life, were gifts we used before and will use again.
Well said brother
1 Corinthians 8:12 of the King James Bible says “For now we see through a glass, darkly: but then face to face: now I know in part, but then shall I know even as I am also known.” There’s much to say on that, but I wanted to share here that the phrase “through a glass darkly” prompted a DuckDuckGo search which let me here, to General Patton’s 1922 poem. Who knew that “old Blood and Guts” (“many names but always me”), had such faith? He says “it was through God’s will I fought”, and it must have been, and that God would use such a human for his own purpose in a chess move against his opponent embodied in the Nazis, actually makes sense. I’m excited to discover more about the scripture that inspired this moving and delightful poem. Thanks for sharing it and making it available.
Regardless of his harsh and often vulgar speech, this poem reveals that Patton had a deep and thoughtful soul. His words remind me of “Invictus” and “The Man in the Arena.”
Not reincarnation exactly but it’s to think about how close Patton was to the truth.
“The Fourth Turning” says a Nomad generation of truly great American generals comes back around when we most need them every 84 years on average. Washington, Grant, Eisenhower. All successful, top American Generals who became 2 term U.S. Presidents.
Each required under-Generals under them to do heavy lifting and dirty work. Washington had von Steuban. Grant had Sherman. Eisenhower had Patton.
Now it’s 80 years since Pearl Harbor. Something’s brewing. And which GenXer (Nomad) will be the great, successful top General and who will be his Patton?
In the last 100 years, I have my company play a serious game “Name any person in that time frame that you feel had the most influence in your life”. It can be anyone. Without hesitation, the one person I’ve chosen with the most positive influence for all humanity and myself is General George Patton lll. Their is nobody that comes close. He is a Grand individual in every sense of what he did and how our World would be much better if only the weak people would have backed General Patton lll. He was not killed by accident. He was murdered by spineless superiors of the USA and a spineless dictator, Josef Stalin, with the fearful other Heads of State, which we may never know. Donald Trump reminds me of Patton, along with John F. Kennedy. May George Patton lll come back and bring us all World Peace and defeat our real enemies, by the hand of God.
God Bless you, George Patton lll.
I wonder if the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” was influenced by this. It certainly reminds me of Gen Patton’s poem.