Patton -- Reincarnated Carolingian Knight
Although it does not look like my Weird War II game will get off the ground anytime soon, I'm still going to continue to periodically post my "weirded" versions of WWII era figures. I hope to use them someday. Besides, I learn a lot and it's a lot of fun!
"We will get the name of killers and killers are immortal"
I knew the major details of the life and career of General George S. Patton -- fiery personality, prescient in his use of tanks and armored units, tactically brilliant, almost canned for slapping a solider while in North Africa, feared by the Nazis, hated the Russians, and wanted to conquer Germany but ran out of gas (seriously). But here are a few things I didn't know:
- Became a "Master of the Sword" after spending time in intense study with one of the greatest swordsmen in all of Europe. This happened after. . .
- He placed 5th in the pentathlon in the 1912 Olympics. Afterwards, he traveled throughout Germany before heading to France to study fencing.
- He then designed a cavalry saber for the U.S. Army and wrote an manual detailing its use.
- Saved the Lipizzaner Stallions from the advancing Soviet Army.
Maybe someone in the Ahnenerbe gets wind of this spirit connection and tries to destroy the relics associated with the inhabiting spirit, crippling one of the Allies' best generals. . .
Or maybe the spirit finally gets the upper hand when Patton becomes bored as governor of Bavaria, leading to the mobilization of the U.S. Third Army against the Soviets and the outbreak of World War III.
Didn't Patton make statements that he thought he had had a previous life as a warrior? I believe he says as much in the George C. Scott film.ReplyDelete
Anyway, good post.
@Trey. Thanks! I remember that from the film, though it's been a long time since I've seen it. I've just taken that idea to the next level.ReplyDelete
The film quotes one of Patton's own poems (reproduced below) and, IIRC, there's a scene where he weirds out the officers' mess by citing his own experiences fighting in the local theatre in a former life.ReplyDelete
Patton as eternal warrior is a classic Weird War II idea.
"Through a Glass, Darkly"
-- George S. Patton, Jr.
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 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.