铁血将军巴顿的著名演说词zt

detalleyrand

2007-01-24 14:23:35　来源: 网易历史　网友评论 17 条 进入论坛
•        　　“我们不仅要击毙那些狗杂种们，而且要把他们的五脏六腑掏出来润滑我们的履带。我们要让那些狗日的德国鬼子尸集成山、血流成河。战争本来就是血腥野蛮残酷的。 ”
【译者按：乔治•巴顿将军是二战中美军一员智勇双全的悍将，曾先后率领第七、三集团军，长驱直入，所向披靡，为盟军战胜德意联军，立下了汗马功劳。他脾气火爆，直来直去，嫉恶如仇，嫉懦如仇。与他贵族身份不相称的是，他喜欢用粗辞糙语，尤其是对部下。他是一个纯粹的军人，至死也不愿接受军事是政治的延伸和手段的事实，与上级和政客经常顶牛，让他们在欣赏利用他的军事才能之余，对他头痛不已。
巴顿将军在二战刚刚结束，便因一次汽车事故高位截瘫，不久便不治身亡。当时时论，对他褒贬不一。军中将士和军人家属褒者多，政坛则贬者多。沧海横流，方显出英雄本色，几十年后，对他的褒扬占了上风。70年代初，好莱坞大手笔制作了电影《巴顿》，一举夺得多项奥斯卡奖，后又推出描写他事故后至辞世一段历史的电影，两片均由影星乔治•斯考特主演。他在西点军校，也与艾森豪威尔和麦克阿瑟共享殊荣，被立雕像一座。
下面，是他在一次主要战役前对第三集团军将士的动员讲话。里面不乏粗辞糙语，但也不时闪烁着他的军事思想。我把这段讲话翻译出来，与同道者共享焉。】
弟兄们，最近有小道消息，说我们美国人对这场战争置身事外。那全是扯淡！美国人生来喜欢打仗，真正的美国人喜欢战场上的刀光剑影。你们今天到这里来，有三个原因：一，你们来这里，是为了保卫家乡的父老乡亲；二，你们来这里，是为了荣誉；因为此时没有其他更好的地方可去；三，你们来这里，是因为你们是真正的男子汉，真正的男子汉都喜欢打仗。
今天在座的各位还是孩子的时候，就崇拜网球冠军、短跑健将、拳击好手和职业球员。美国人热爱胜利者，美国人对失败者从不饶恕。美国人藐视懦夫。美国人即参赛，就要赢。我对那种输了还笑的人嗤之以鼻。正因为如此，美国人迄今没输过任何战争。将来也不会。一个真正的美国人，连失败的念头，都会恨之入骨。
你们不会全都牺牲。每次战斗下来，你们当中可能会牺牲百分之二。不要怕，每个人终究会死。第一次上战场，每个人都会胆怯。如果有人说他不怕，那是在撒谎。有人胆小，但是这并不妨碍他成为勇士。如果他看到像他一样胆怯的战友英勇奋战，而他却袖手旁观的话，将无地自容。真正的英雄，是即使胆怯仍旧坚持作战的男子汉。有的战士在战场上不到一分钟就可以克服恐惧。有的要一小时。还有的，大概要几天功夫。但是，真正的男子汉，不会让恐惧死亡战胜责任、荣誉和雄风。
战争，是不甘屈服的男子汉最能表现自我的竞争机会。战争会逼出伟大，剔除弱小。美国人素以成为雄中之雄而自感自豪，而且他们自己也是雄中之雄。大家要记住：敌人和你们一样害怕，很可能比你们更怕。他们并非刀枪不入。
在大家的军旅生活中，你们经常怨声载道，把演习训练称为“鸡屎”。但是演习训练如军中的条例，都有存在必要。演习训练是培养大家的警觉性，把警觉渗透到每一个战士的血管。对于那些放松警惕者，我决不手软。你们都是枪林弹雨中拼杀出来的好汉，不然今天也到不了这。你们对即将到来的厮杀，要做好准备。谁要想活着回来，就必须每时每刻保持警觉。哪怕稍有疏忽，狗娘养的德国鬼子就会悄悄的溜到你背后，用一坨大粪弄死你。
在西西里的某个地方，有一块墓碑放的整整齐齐的墓园，里面埋葬了400名阵亡将士。那400条汉子升天，只因一名哨兵打盹。令人欣慰的是，他们都是德国人，我们先于那些狗杂种发现他们的哨兵打盹。
部队是一个集体，大家在集体里一起吃饭，一起睡觉，一起战斗。所谓的个人英雄主义都是一坨马粪。那些胆汁过剩、整夜在星期六晚报上拉马粪的家伙，对真正战斗的了解还不如他们对女人的了解多。
我们有世界上最好的给养、最好的武器装备、最旺盛的斗志和最棒的战士。说实在的，我真的很同情那些将和我们作战的狗杂种。
我麾下的将士从不投降。我不想听到我手下的任何战士被俘的消息，除非他们先受了伤。即使受了伤，也可以还击。这不是吹大牛，我希望所有部下，都学习利比亚作战的一位少尉，当时一个德国鬼子用手枪顶着他的胸膛，他甩下钢盔，一只手拨开手枪，另一支手抓住钢盔，把那个德国鬼子打得七窍流血。在此之前，他的一侧肺叶已经被一颗子弹打穿。这，才是一个真正得男子汉！
不是所有的英雄都像传奇故事里描述的那样，军中每个战士都扮演着同样重要的角色。千万不要吊儿郎当，以为自己的任务无足轻重。每个人都有自己的任务，而且必须做好。每个人都是这根链条上必不可少的环节。各位可以设想一下，假如某个卡车司机，突然不愿忍受头顶呼啸的炮弹，一头扎到路边的水沟隐蔽。那将产生怎样的后果。这个怯懦的狗杂种可以给自己找借口：“管他娘的，没我地球照转，我只不过是千万分之一。”但如果每一个人都这样想，我们怎么办，我们的国家，亲人甚至整个世界会怎么样？不，他奶奶的，美国人不那样。
每个人都因该完成他的任务。每个人都应对集体负责。每个部门、每个战斗队、对整个战争的宏伟诗篇都同等重要。弹药武器人员让我们枪有所发，炮有所射。没有后勤人员给我们送衣送饭，我们就会饥寒交迫，因为我们即将开赴的地方已经无可掠夺。指挥部的人员，都各有所用，即使只是个烧热水给我们洗屁股的勤务兵。每个战士不能只想着自己，也要想着一起出生入死的战友。我们的军队容不得胆小鬼。
我见过的最勇敢的好汉，是在突尼斯的一次激烈的战斗中爬到电线杆上的通讯兵。当时我正好路过，便停下问他：在这样危险的时候爬到那么高的地方瞎折腾什么？他答道：“我在维护线路，将军。”我问：“敌机低空扫射，不打扰你吗?”他答：“敌机不怎么打扰，倒是您把我打扰得一塌糊涂，将军。”弟兄们，那才是真正的男子汉，真正的战士。他全心全意的履行职责，不管那职责看起来多么不起眼，也不管当时的情况多么危险。
还有那些开往突尼斯的司机们，他们可真了不起。他们没日没夜，行驶在狗娘养的破路上，从不停歇，从不迷路。他们把四处开花的炮弹当成伴奏。我们能顺利前进，全*那些天不怕地不怕地美国硬汉。这些司机，有些人已经连续开车超过40小时，他们不属于战斗部队，但是他们同样也属于军人，也有重要的任务要完成。
他们完成了，而且真他*的棒！他们是大集体中的一部分。如果没有大家的共同努力，没有他们，那场战斗可能早就输了。正因为所有环节都各司其职，各尽其职，整个链条才攻不可破。
大家千万记住，我没有来过这里。千万不要在信件里提到我。按理来说，我是死是活，对外界保密。我既不统率第三集团军，也不在英国。让那些狗日的德国佬第一个发现吧！
我希望有一天看到，那些狗杂种们屁滚尿流，哀呼：“我的天啊，又是那个挨千刀的第三集团军！又是那个狗娘养的巴顿！”
我们已经迫不及待，早一天收拾万恶的德国鬼子，我们就能早一天掉转枪口，去端日本鬼子的老窝。如果我们不抓紧，功劳就会全让狗娘养的海军陆战队抢走了。
是的，我们想早日回家，我们想让这场战争尽快结束。最快的方法，就是干掉挑起战争的狗杂种们。早一天把他们干掉，我们早一天凯旋。
回家的捷径，要通过柏林和东京。到了柏林，我要亲手干掉那个纸老虎、狗杂种希特勒。就像干掉一条蛇！
谁要想在炮弹坑里蹲上一天，就让他见鬼去吧！德国鬼子会迟早找到他头上。我的手下从不挖掩体，我也不希望你们挖。掩体只会使进攻速度放缓。我们要持续进攻，不让敌人有挖战壕的时间。我们肯定胜利，所以我们必须不断战斗，比敌人更勇敢，胜利才会到来。
我们不仅要击毙那些狗杂种们，而且要把他们的五脏六腑掏出来润滑我们的履带。我们要让那些狗日的德国鬼子尸集成山、血流成河。战争本来就是血腥野蛮残酷的。
你不让敌人流血，他们就会让你流。挑开他们的肚子，给他们的胸膛上来一枪。如果一颗炮弹在你身旁爆炸，炸了你一脸灰土，你一抹，发现那竟然是你最好的伙伴的模糊血肉时，你就知道该怎么办了！
我不想听到报告说：“我们在坚守阵地。”我们不坚守任何见鬼的阵地。让德国鬼子去坚守吧！我们要一刻不停的进攻，除了敌人的卵子，我们对其他任何目标都不感兴趣。我们要扭住敌人的卵子不放，把他们打得魂魄离窍。我们的基本作战计划就是：进攻进攻再进攻！不管从敌人身上、身下爬过去，还是从他们身体中间钻过去。我们要像从小鹅肠子挤屎那样执着，那样无孔不入！
有时免不了有人会抱怨，说我对战士要求太严，太不近人情。让那些抱怨见鬼去吧！我坚信的一条金科玉律是：“一盎司的热汗，值一加仑的鲜血。”我们进攻地越坚决，消灭的德国鬼子就越多，我们自己人就死得越少。进攻意味着更少伤亡。我希望大家牢记这一点。
凯旋回家后，今天在座的弟兄们都会过得一种值得夸耀的资格。20年后，你会庆新自己参加了这次世界大战。到那时，当你坐在壁炉边，孙子坐在你的膝盖，问：“爷爷，你在伟大的第二次世界大战时干了什么？”你不用尴尬的干咳一声，把孙子从一个膝盖移到另一个上，吞吞吐吐的说：“啊……爷爷当时正在路易斯安娜铲粪呢。”
与此相反，弟兄们，你可以直盯着他的眼睛，理直气壮的说：“孙子，爷爷我当时在第三集团军和那个狗杂种的巴顿在一起并肩作战。”
译者：太蔟
第二页：巴顿演说词第二版本
第三页：巴顿演说词英文原文
巴顿演说的另一个版本

好莱坞影片《巴顿将军》可以说是征服了全球军迷的经典之作，特别是片首那场巴顿在巨幅星条旗下的激情讲演，更是经典中的经典。乔治•斯科特也不愧是明星中的明星，在他的演绎之下，巴顿的神武与人性被刻画得淋漓尽致，以至于长久以来大家都有一种错觉，认为这就是巴顿，这就是巴顿的演讲。

电影终归是电影，一段传奇背后的史实或多或少有些不同。尽管巴顿算得上仅次于丘吉尔的演讲家，但由于种种原因，关于他的演讲实录流传甚少，影片中所渲染的那场演讲确有其事，但它的真实内容却一直鲜为人知。时值二战胜利60周年，《美国传统》最新特刊载文，一位二战老兵——约翰•鲍伦——追忆起了当年他曾亲历的巴顿演讲实录：

这(指影片《巴顿将军》的演讲——编译者注)不是我们听到的演讲。当时我是美第3集团军第65步兵师的一个大头兵，我们的部队将要在1945年年初的冬季投入战斗。我记得，3月5日部队在法国境内一个名叫爱内瑞(Ennery )的小镇广场集合。第65师已得到命令在数日内对德军“齐格菲”防线发起进攻。事实上，巴顿将军的这次战地训话从未公开报道过。这其中的微妙还很有说道。

布雷德利将军在回忆录《将军百战归》中曾明言：“的确很少有哪位将军的战场指挥才能可以超越巴顿，但巴顿也有自己难以征服的对手：他管不住自己那张大嘴。”巴顿不加遮拦的夸张言论是媒体的最爱，只要他一开口，总是招来大麻烦。因此，当巴顿被分配到布雷德利麾下时，后者严令管制对巴顿言论的报道。布雷德利这位素以亲善的“大兵将军”曾语：“媒体可能会咒骂我，叫他们见鬼去吧。我才不会让他们得到机会。告诉新闻检查官，没有我的命令，不得引用任何指挥官的话。 ”布雷德利时任美军集团军群指挥官、巴顿的顶头上司。

媒体对这场战前训话的缺席因此就很自然了。要知道，在上层社会，这位将军是无可挑剔的“绅士”，但他和士兵们在一起时，却是脏话连篇。就上个世纪40年代那种社会风气来衡量，巴顿的用语近乎刺耳、粗鲁，但他的士兵们却听得很受用。这正是巴顿的精明之处。因为他知道，只有这样，士兵才会记住他的话。

颇为巧合的是，约翰•鲍伦战前曾干过新闻记者，受过速记训练。他的口袋里总是带着速记本。训话结束后的凌晨时分，这位士兵在床上兴奋地写道：“在这个晦暗的冬日，远处地平线一场恶战正在等待着我们，能听到这样激动人心的训话令我实在难以入睡，我几乎是逐字逐句地把将军话重写了一遍。”

此时，欧洲战争已进入最后阶段。第65步兵师是最后一批投入战斗的美军部队。这场演讲无意间也成了将军最后一次战前动员训话，因此也可以说，这是巴顿战时演讲的巅峰之作。

这天11时整，巴顿到达广场，全体官兵立正。将军快步走上讲台，只见他身着战斗夹克，配着军绿斜纹裤，头顶上的钢盔上闪着三颗将星。师长略作介绍，将军就开口了：

第65师全体官兵们，稍息。

你们现在所在的部队是赢者之师。不过，你们还没尝过战争的真正滋味。所以你们要仔细听好……你们可能以为自己受过训练，晓得如何打仗，其实并非如此。只有等你们听到第一颗子弹朝着你们飞来，一切才会见分晓。现在有很多人不理解，为什么我们陆军强调军纪严明、训练有素。他们可能会说，军队就意味着要讲纪律，搞训练，两者是一回事，仅此而已。但我要告诉你们，军队讲究训练有素、纪律严明的真正原因是因为你们必须养成一种战斗习惯，这种深植在你们内心的强烈战斗本能必须足以克服你们对死亡的恐惧。

在战斗中，你会感到恐惧。但你必须进攻——必须坚决果断，快速地进攻。忘掉散兵坑，忘掉卧倒。你必须朝着德国人射击，不断地射击。就算你不知道敌人在哪儿，你也要朝着可疑的地方开枪……要是你端着枪，漠不经心地四处游荡，时而卧倒，时而爬起来的话，我只好给你的母亲、妻子或女友写信了，告诉他们某某某被轰掉了屁股，因为他没照着规矩做。

再有就是有的家伙会跑出去，胡乱扫射一气，然后卧倒了事。这正是德国佬最想要的。他们的迫击炮早就标定了目标，紧接着炮弹就来了。这个家伙很快就会被炸得支离破碎……要是你不断射击，德国佬就不敢露头，这样你活下来的机会就会提高90%。

记住，我们的步枪是世界上他妈的最好的杀人武器。德国佬对它怕得要死。所以要好好使用它……每次战斗你都能打上100发子弹，保你能活得更长久……从不射击的步枪或机枪连烧火棍都不如。

在战斗中，你肯定会感到恐惧。哪个小子胆敢说他不怕，只有两种可能，他要不是笨蛋，要不就是在扯谎。但恐惧与懦弱是有差别的。与敌人面对面近战时，你必须有决胜的勇气和信心。只有这样，你才能从该死的地狱挺过来……要果断开枪射击，不要犹豫，等看到德国佬的眼睛就晚了。我现在就可以告诉你们，这些兔崽子的眼睛是黄色的，你们不用再好奇了。

(约翰•鲍伦在此特意记下，全场发出会意的哄笑，巴顿本来板着的脸慢慢地挤出得意的微笑。——原文注)

我的朋友，斯科特将军，这么高的那个小个子(将军边说边把手比划到自己下肋处——原文注)曾对我吹嘘：“只要乔•刘易斯(上个世纪40年代美国最著名的最重量级拳击选手，号称“黑色轰炸机”——编译者注)这小子答应愿意防守，老子也敢跟他比拳击。”斯科特的意思其实是说，防守等于自杀。所以你们必须进攻，保持进攻，不断地进攻，再进攻。

如果有个德国人想投降，注意了，要让他自己过来。我们以前有些人很不小心。他们看见德国人举起双手就会说，好的，好的，这里有一个，我们去收拾他。然后跑出去，紧接着他们就被机枪扫倒了。不久前，就在我站的这个地方，刚刚运来过一车德军战俘，他们都被搜过身。猜怎么着，有个家伙不知从哪里又掏出把手枪。他肯定是把枪放在裤裆里了。转眼间他就打倒一个上尉。我们只好把他们都打死。

说到这里，我要提醒诸位，我不是想鼓励大家把德国佬押到墙边再开枪打死他们。我们美国是优秀的民族。做这种事是不光彩的。所以不要等德国佬到墙边就开枪把他们干掉。

还有一件事，要照顾好自己。得上堑壕足(一种脚病，编者注)惟一的原因就是你们自己太粗心。要记住，士兵的下半辈子也需要他的脚。

最后我还想再多说几句关于所谓战地“精神病人”的事。这些家伙是混蛋、是寄生虫，这些猪狗不如的家伙。多一个这样不愿意战斗的家伙就意味着让你们这些勇敢的战士多一份负担。如果你们中有那么一位“精神病人”，不要客气，取笑他，猛踢他的屁股，让他好好清醒清醒。

还有一种家伙也是懦夫，叫什么SIW，就是“自残者”，他们的伤总是在中指或左脚中指。要是你看到有人伤在这些地方，你遇到的可能就是这么个主。

士兵们，你们是美国士兵，世界上最伟大的士兵。你们是世界上最伟大的军队的一员。你们在为最伟大的国家战斗。现在战争胜利在望，你们他妈的差不多已经是英雄了。

你们很幸运，非常幸运。有朝一日，你们重返和平生活，多年后，你的子孙问你：“爷爷，第二次世界大战时，您在做什么？”你不至于扫兴地说：“唉，孩子，爷爷我那时候在阿拉巴马挑大粪。”

这也是一个精心安排的巧合，巴顿演讲至此，教堂正午钟声激扬而起。巴顿提高音调做了总结：

你们所在的师是美国自第一次世界大战以来最优秀的师，对此我深信不疑，因为我也是这个师的一员。你们有最好的装备、最优秀的士兵、最先进的战术，但你们必须牢记我刚才对你们说的话。射击，不断地射击。进攻，坚决果断地进攻。照顾好自己。绝不相信德国佬。

来源：青年参考

第一页：巴顿演说稿第一版本

第三页：巴顿演说词英文原文
附：演说辞原文

General Patton's Address to the Troops

June 5, 1944

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.

You are not all going to die. 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.

There are four hundred neatly marked graves somewhere in Sicily. All because one man went to sleep on the job. But they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before they did. 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!

We have the finest food, the finest equipment, the best spirit, and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity those poor sons-of-bitches we're going up against. By God, I do. My men don't surrender. 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!

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'."

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 road 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.

Don't forget, 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, 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.

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, 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.

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.

sooners

回复 1# detalleyrand


   

abaqus