Ara not: Konuşmanın orijial metni yazının sonunda verilmiştir. Aşağıdaki metin filmde yer verilen konuşmanın Türkçe tercümesidir:
Oturun.
Şunu unutmayın ki, hiç kimse ülkesi uğruna ölerek kazanmamıştır. Savaşı ancak başka aptalların ölmesini sağlayarak, kazanabilirsiniz.
Beyler!
Amerika'nın savaşmak istememesi ve savaştan uzak duracağı şeklindeki sözler tamamiyle yalandır. Amerikalılar geleneksel olarak savaşı sever. Bütün gerçek Amerikalılar, çarpışmaya katılmayı sever. Siz çocukken en iyi bilye atıcısını ve en iyi koşanı tutardınız. En iyi top atıcısını, en güçlü boksörü.
Amerika kazananı sever, kaybetmeye tahammül edemeyiz. Amerika hep kazanmaya oynar. Kaybettikten sonra gülen bir adamı, ben ne yapayım?
Bu yüzden, Amerikalılar hiç kaybetmedi ve hiç savaş kaybetmeyeceğiz... Çünkü kaybetme düşüncesi, Amerikalılar için bir utançtır.
Şimdi ordu bir takımdır. Takım gibi yer, içer ve yaşar. Bireysellik diye bir şey yoktur. Saturday Evening Post'ta bireyselliği yazan, o züppe salakların gerçek savaş hakkında, hiçbir fikirleri yok.
Bizde, en iyi yemek ve malzeme en iyi moral ve dünyanın en iyi askeri var. Biliyor musunuz, aslında karşımıza çıkacak o zavallılara çok acıyorum. Tanrı şahidimdir. Pislikleri vurmakla kalmayacağız. Canlı canlı ciğerlerini sökeceğiz ve onları, tanklarda gres yağı olarak kullanacağız.
Bu zavallı zevk düşkünlerini, utanç içinde öldüreceğiz. Evet, bazılarınızın merak ettiğini biliyorum. Ateş altında kaçacak mısınız? Bunu hiç düşünmeyin.
Sizi temin ederim. Üstünüze düşeni yapacaksınız. Naziler bizim düşmanımız. Onlara saldırın! Kanlarını ortaya saçın! Karınlarından vurun! Çatışmaya girince en iyi arkadaşınızın yüzündeki ifadeyi görünce gerekeni yapacaksınız. Ve şunu hep hatırlayın.
Bana sakın, "yerimizi koruyoruz" şeklinde mesaj yollamayın.Hiçbir şeyi korumuyoruz. Bırakın onlar yapsın. Biz sürekli ilerleyecek ve düşman dışında hiçbir şeyi elde tutmaya çalışmayacağız.Biz onları burunlarından yakalayacağız ve kıçlarını tekmeleyeceğiz.
Onları, aman vermeden tekmeleyeceğiz. Sonunda, kaçışan kaz sürüsünden farkları kalmayacak!
Şimdi evinize döndüğünüzde söyleyebileceğiniz tek şey olacak. Bunun için şükredeceksiniz.
Bundan otuz yıl sonra şöminenin önünde otururken torununuz yanınıza gelip size şunu soracak:
"2.Dünya Savaşı'nda ne yaptın, dede?" Şunu söylemeyeceksin: "Evet, Louisiana'da gübre kürekledim."
Pekâlâ, aşağılık herifler, duygularım belli. Sizlere her zaman her yerde, liderlik etmekten gurur duyacağım. Her zaman. Hepsi bu!
Özdeyişleri
- Bir komutanın işi komuta etmektir.
- Şimdi ivedilikle uygulanacak iyi bir çözüm, on dakika sonra uygulanacak mükemmel bir çözümden daha iyidir.
- Birkaç damla ter akıtmak, bir kaç litre kan akmasını önler.
- Her zaman sorunların kaynağına odaklanın.
- Azim, çalışkanlık ve sonsuz bir tutku ile her adam büyük biri olabilir.
- Komutanız altındakilerden yapmalarını istediğiniz her şeyi kendiniz de yapın.
- Sizden beklenenden daha fazlasını yapın.
- Başarısızlıktan korkmayın.
- Sizin hatanız olsa da, olmasa da, asla bahane uydurmayın.
- Korkularınızı rehber edinmeyin.
- Görevinizi en iyi bildiğiniz şekilde yapın. Sonuçların canı cehenneme.
- Şöhret, keşfedilmeyi bekleyen hiç bir insanı kendiliğinden bulmamıştır.
- Deha, büyük sıkıntılara katlanabilme yeteneğidir.
- Birini övmeniz gerektiğinde, o kişiyi övün.
- İyi taktikler en kötü stratejiyi bile kurtarabilir. Kötü taktikler ise en iyi stratejiyi bile mahvedebilir.
- Acelecilik ve hız eş anlamlı değildir.
- Sadık bir kurmay subayı, dâhi bir kurmay subaya tercih ederim.
- Şüpheye düştüğünüz anda, taarruz edin.
- Savaşlar silahlarla yapılır ama insanlarla kazanılır. Zaferi getiren şey, emirlere itaat edenlerin ve onlara komuta edenlerin ruhlarıdır.
- Seri bir muhabere hattına sahip olun.
- Emirlerin eksikliği, âtıl kalmak için bahane değildir.
- Planlarınızı içinde bulunduğunuz duruma göre hazırlayın.
- Birçok asker, çok az şey hakkında çok fazla şey bildiği için savaşla ilgili yanlış fikirlere sürüklenir.
- Ahlâki cesaret;insanoğlunun en değerli ama en az bulunan erdemidir.
- Zafer karşılığında bir şey elde edemeyeceğiniz bir muharebeye asla girmeyin.
- Savaş alanını düşmanın seçmesine asla müsaade etmeyin.
- İyi kararlar hiç bir zaman makam koltuklarında alınmamıştır.
- Herkes aynı şeyi düşünüyorsa, kimse düşünmüyor demektir.
- Subaylar örnek davranışları ve sözleriyle kendilerini kabul ettirmelidirler.
- Bir yöntem seçilmeli ve devamlı ona uyulmalıdır.
- Söylediğin şeyleri imâ etve imâ ettiğin şeyleri söyle.
- Liderleri başarılarına göre seçin, duygusal sebeplere göre değil.
- Strateji ve taktik asla değişmez. Sadece uygulama şekilleri değişir.
- Bir adamın başarısını ne kadar yükseğe çıktığıyla ölçmeyin. Düşüp de dibe vurduğu zaman ne kadar yükseğe sektiğiyle ölçün.
- Sadece hesaplı riskler alın. Bu düşüncesizlik demek değildir. Benim şahsi fikrime göre, eğer başarı şansınız %50 ise, o riski alın.
- Lider aynı zamanda bir aktör olmalıdır.
- Bir subay ne kadar kıdemliyse, cepheye gitmek için o kadar boş vakti olur.
- Orospu çocuğunun teki suratınıza şaşkın şaşkın bakıyorsa, yapmanız gereken şey, hemen oracıkta onun canına okumaktır.
- Asker ordudur.
- Değişmeyecek tek taktik prensip şudur: “Düşmana en kısa sürede ölü, yaralı en ağır zayiatı verdirip onu yok etmek için eldeki tüm imkanları kullanmak.”
- Tek çeşit disiplin vardır: Kusursuz disiplin.
- Savaş; basit, direkt ve acımasızdır.
- Savaşın amacı ülkeniz için ölmek değil, karşı saftaki piçin kendi ülkesi için ölmesini sağlamaktır.
- Eğitmeye çalıştığımız insanlarla aynı dili konuşmazsak, onlara asla bir şey öğretemeyiz.
- Yenilgiyi kabul etmediğiniz sürece yenik sayılmazsınız.
- Bir zamanlar, dangalağın teki ordunun yanlarının güvenli olması gerektiğini söylemiş. O günden beri dünyanın her yerindeki orospu çocukları ordularının yanlarını güven altına almaya çalışmış. Buna katılmıyorum. Benim ordumun yanları düşmanın düşünmesi gereken bir şey, benim değil. O benim yanlarımın yerini bulana kadar, ben o piçin gırtlağını çoktan kesmiş olurum.
- Trier’i 2 tümenle ele geçirdim. Ne yapayım yani? Geri mi vereyim? (Almanya’nın Trier kentini alabilmek için 4 tümen gerektiğini ve bu yüzden şehre taarruz etmeden yoluna devam etmesini söyleyen Eisenhower’ın mesajına cevaben)
- İnsanlara neyi nasıl yapacaklarını asla söylemeyin. Sadece ne yapmaları gerektiğini söyleyin ve dehalarıyla sizi şaşırtsınlar.
- İnsanın bir şeyi elde etmesinin üç yolu vardır: Planlayarak, çalışarak, dua ederek.
- Askerlerim palaskalarını yiyebilirler ama tanklarımın benzine ihtiyacı var.
- Size yönelik meydan okumaları kabul edin.Böylece zaferin tadını çıkarabilirsiniz.
- Bana komuta et, bana itaat et, ya da yolumdan çekil.
- Sabit tahkimatlar insanoğlunun aptallık anıtlarıdır.
- Savaşta her adam korkar. Eğer bir adam korkmadığını söylüyorsa yalan söylüyordur.Bazı adamlar korkaktırlar ama en az cesur adamlar kadar iyi savaşırlar veya kendileri kadar korkak adamların nasıl cesurca savaştığını görüp donakalırlar. Gerçek kahramanlar korktukları halde savaşanlardır.
- Savaş bir insanın içinde bulunabileceği en müthiş mücadeledir. İnsanın en iyi yeteneklerini ortaya çıkarır, yeteneksizliklerini ise ortadan kaldırır.
- Sicilya’nın bir yerinde titizlikle işaretlenmiş dört yüz adet mezar var. Sebebi ise, bir adamın görevinin başında uyumayı tercih etmesi. Ama bunlar Alman askerlerinin mezaları çünkü onlar bizi yakalayamadan biz o piçleri uykularında yakaladık.
- Tüm kahramanlar kitaplarda yazan savaşçılar gibi değildir. Bu ordu içindeki her bir adam hayati bir göreve sahiptir. Görevinizi asla boş vermeyin. Asla görevinizin önemsiz olduğunu düşünmeyin.Her adamın bir görevi vardır ve onu yapmakla mükelleftir. Her bir adam, büyük bir zincirin hayati bir halkasıdır.
- Unutmayın! Benim burada olduğumdan haberiniz yok. Bundan ailenize yazdığınız mektuplarda asla bahsedilmeyecek.Dünyanın bana ne olduğunu bilmemesi gerek. Bu orduya komuta ediyor olmamam gerek.Şu anda İngiltere’de bile olmamam lazım. Bu gerçeği öğrenecek ilk piçlerin Almanlar olmasını sağlayın. Bir gün, o heriflerin sidikli döşeklerinden uyanıp şöyle inlemelerini istiyorum: “Yüce Tanrım! Bunlar yine o lanet olası 3. Ordu ve lanet olası orospu çocuğu Patton.” (Normandiya Çıkarması’ndan bir gün önce askerlerine yaptığı konuşmasından)
- Benim askerlerim siper kazmazlar. Kazmalarını da istemiyorum. Siperler sadece taarruzu yavaşlatırlar. Devamlı hareket edin.Ve düşmana da siper kazma imkanını vermeyin.
- Düşman hattını yaran şey, süngünün ucu değil, süngüyle saldıran askerin gözündeki soğuk parlaklıktır.
- Havaya uçana kadar bu yolu takip edin.(Keşi fbirliklerine verdiği talimat)
- Tanrı düşmanlarıma merhamet etsin, çünküben etmeyeceğim.
- Sizden öncekilerin görülmeyen ve tahmin edilemeyenle nasıl başa çıktığını etüd ederek bilinmeyene hazırlanın.
- Profesyonel bir asker ancak tek bir şekilde düzgün bir ölüm tadar: Son savaşın, son muharebesinin, son kurşunuyla.
İngilizce orijinal metin:
Men, all this stuff you hear about America not wanting to fight, wanting to stay out of the war, is a lot of bullshit. Americans love to fight. All real Americans love the sting and clash of battle. When you were kids, you all admired the champion marble shooter, the fastest runner, the big-league ball players and the toughest boxers. Americans love a winner and will not tolerate a loser. Americans play to win all the time. That's why Americans have never lost and will never lose a war. The very thought of losing is hateful to Americans. Battle is the most significant competitions in which a man can indulge. It brings out all that is best and it removes all that is base.
You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would be killed in a major battle. Every man is scared in his first action. If he says he's not, he's a goddamn liar. But the real hero is the man who fights even though he's scared. Some men will get over their fright in a minute under fire, some take an hour, and for some it takes days. But the real man never lets his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood.
All through your army career you men have bitched about what you call 'this chicken-shit drilling.' That is all for a purpose—to ensure instant obedience to orders and to create constant alertness. This must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a fuck for a man who is not always on his toes. But the drilling has made veterans of all you men. You are ready! A man has to be alert all the time if he expects to keep on breathing. If not, some German son-of-a-bitch will sneak up behind him and beat him to death with a sock full of shit. There are four hundred neatly marked graves in Sicily, all because one man went to sleep on the job—but they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before his officer did.
An army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, and fights as a team. This individual hero stuff is bullshit. The bilious bastards who write that stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don't know any more about real battle than they do about fucking. And we have the best team—we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity these poor bastards we're going up against.
All the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters. Every single man in the army plays a vital role. So don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. What if every truck driver decided that he didn't like the whine of the shells and turned yellow and jumped headlong into a ditch? That cowardly bastard could say to himself, 'Hell, they won't miss me, just one man in thousands.' What if every man said that? Where in the hell would we be then? No, thank God, Americans don't say that. Every man does his job. Every man is important. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns, the quartermaster is needed to bring up the food and clothes for us because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last damn man in the mess hall, even the one who boils the water to keep us from getting the GI shits, has a job to do.
Each man must think not only of himself, but think of his buddy fighting alongside him. We don't want yellow cowards in the army. They should be killed off like flies. If not, they will go back home after the war, goddamn cowards, and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the goddamn cowards and we'll have a nation of brave men.
One of the bravest men I saw in the African campaign was on a telegraph pole in the midst of furious fire while we were moving toward Tunis. I stopped and asked him what the hell he was doing up there. He answered, 'Fixing the wire, sir.' 'Isn't it a little unhealthy up there right now?' I asked. 'Yes sir, but this goddamn wire has got 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 soldier. A real man. A man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how great the odds, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty appeared at the time.
And you should have seen the trucks on the road to Gabès. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they crawled along those son-of-a-bitch roads, never stopping, never deviating from their course with shells bursting all around them. Many of the men drove over 40 consecutive hours. We got through on good old American guts. These were not combat men. But they were soldiers with a job to do. They were part of a team. Without them the fight would have been lost.
Sure, we all want to go home. We want to get this war over with. But you can't win a war lying down. The quickest way to get it over with is to get the bastards who started it. We want to get the hell over there and clean the goddamn thing up, and then get at those purple-pissing Japs. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we go home. The shortest way home is through Berlin and Tokyo. So keep moving. And when we get to Berlin, I am personally going to shoot that paper-hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler.
When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a Boche will get him eventually. The hell with that. My men don't dig foxholes. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and showing the Germans that we've got more guts than they have or ever will have. We're not just going to shoot the bastards, 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.
Some of you men are wondering whether or not you'll chicken out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you'll all do your duty. War is a bloody business, a killing business. The Nazis are the enemy. Wade into them, spill their blood or they will spill yours. Shoot them in the guts. Rip open their belly. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt from your face and you realize that it's not dirt, it's the blood and gut of what was once your best friend, you'll know what to do.
I don't want any messages saying 'I'm holding my position.' We're not holding a goddamned thing. We're advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding anything except the enemy's balls. We're going to hold him by his balls and we're going to kick him in the ass; twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all the time. Our plan of operation is to advance and keep on advancing. We're going to go through the enemy like shit through a tinhorn.
There will be some complaints that we're pushing our people too hard. I don't give a damn about such complaints. I believe that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder we push, the more Germans we kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing harder means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that. My men don't surrender. I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he is hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight. That's not just bullshit either. I want men like the lieutenant in Libya who, with a Luger against his chest, swept aside the gun with his hand, jerked his helmet off with the other and busted the hell out of the Boche with the helmet. Then he picked up the gun and he killed another German. All this time the man had a bullet through his lung. That's a man for you!
Don't forget, you don't know I'm here at all. No word of that fact is to be mentioned in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell they did with me. I'm not supposed to be commanding this army. I'm not even supposed to be in England. Let the first bastards to find out be the goddamned Germans. Some day, I want them to rise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl 'Ach! It's the goddamned Third Army and that son-of-a-bitch Patton again!'
Then there's one thing you men will be able to say when this war is over and you get back home. Thirty years from now when you're sitting by your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks, 'What did you do in the great World War Two?' You won't have to cough 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 George Patton!
All right, you sons of bitches. You know how I feel. I'll be proud to lead you wonderful guys in battle any time, anywhere. That's all.
Allahû Âlem (en doğrusunu Allah bilir.)
www.uskudarcevresi.com
You are not all going to die. Only two percent of you right here today would be killed in a major battle. Every man is scared in his first action. If he says he's not, he's a goddamn liar. But the real hero is the man who fights even though he's scared. Some men will get over their fright in a minute under fire, some take an hour, and for some it takes days. But the real man never lets his fear of death overpower his honor, his sense of duty to his country, and his innate manhood.
All through your army career you men have bitched about what you call 'this chicken-shit drilling.' That is all for a purpose—to ensure instant obedience to orders and to create constant alertness. This must be bred into every soldier. I don't give a fuck for a man who is not always on his toes. But the drilling has made veterans of all you men. You are ready! A man has to be alert all the time if he expects to keep on breathing. If not, some German son-of-a-bitch will sneak up behind him and beat him to death with a sock full of shit. There are four hundred neatly marked graves in Sicily, all because one man went to sleep on the job—but they are German graves, because we caught the bastard asleep before his officer did.
An army is a team. It lives, eats, sleeps, and fights as a team. This individual hero stuff is bullshit. The bilious bastards who write that stuff for the Saturday Evening Post don't know any more about real battle than they do about fucking. And we have the best team—we have the finest food and equipment, the best spirit and the best men in the world. Why, by God, I actually pity these poor bastards we're going up against.
All the real heroes are not storybook combat fighters. Every single man in the army plays a vital role. So don't ever let up. Don't ever think that your job is unimportant. What if every truck driver decided that he didn't like the whine of the shells and turned yellow and jumped headlong into a ditch? That cowardly bastard could say to himself, 'Hell, they won't miss me, just one man in thousands.' What if every man said that? Where in the hell would we be then? No, thank God, Americans don't say that. Every man does his job. Every man is important. The ordnance men are needed to supply the guns, the quartermaster is needed to bring up the food and clothes for us because where we are going there isn't a hell of a lot to steal. Every last damn man in the mess hall, even the one who boils the water to keep us from getting the GI shits, has a job to do.
Each man must think not only of himself, but think of his buddy fighting alongside him. We don't want yellow cowards in the army. They should be killed off like flies. If not, they will go back home after the war, goddamn cowards, and breed more cowards. The brave men will breed more brave men. Kill off the goddamn cowards and we'll have a nation of brave men.
One of the bravest men I saw in the African campaign was on a telegraph pole in the midst of furious fire while we were moving toward Tunis. I stopped and asked him what the hell he was doing up there. He answered, 'Fixing the wire, sir.' 'Isn't it a little unhealthy up there right now?' I asked. 'Yes sir, but this goddamn wire has got 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 soldier. A real man. A man who devoted all he had to his duty, no matter how great the odds, no matter how seemingly insignificant his duty appeared at the time.
And you should have seen the trucks on the road to Gabès. Those drivers were magnificent. All day and all night they crawled along those son-of-a-bitch roads, never stopping, never deviating from their course with shells bursting all around them. Many of the men drove over 40 consecutive hours. We got through on good old American guts. These were not combat men. But they were soldiers with a job to do. They were part of a team. Without them the fight would have been lost.
Sure, we all want to go home. We want to get this war over with. But you can't win a war lying down. The quickest way to get it over with is to get the bastards who started it. We want to get the hell over there and clean the goddamn thing up, and then get at those purple-pissing Japs. The quicker they are whipped, the quicker we go home. The shortest way home is through Berlin and Tokyo. So keep moving. And when we get to Berlin, I am personally going to shoot that paper-hanging son-of-a-bitch Hitler.
When a man is lying in a shell hole, if he just stays there all day, a Boche will get him eventually. The hell with that. My men don't dig foxholes. Foxholes only slow up an offensive. Keep moving. We'll win this war, but we'll win it only by fighting and showing the Germans that we've got more guts than they have or ever will have. We're not just going to shoot the bastards, 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.
Some of you men are wondering whether or not you'll chicken out under fire. Don't worry about it. I can assure you that you'll all do your duty. War is a bloody business, a killing business. The Nazis are the enemy. Wade into them, spill their blood or they will spill yours. Shoot them in the guts. Rip open their belly. When shells are hitting all around you and you wipe the dirt from your face and you realize that it's not dirt, it's the blood and gut of what was once your best friend, you'll know what to do.
I don't want any messages saying 'I'm holding my position.' We're not holding a goddamned thing. We're advancing constantly and we're not interested in holding anything except the enemy's balls. We're going to hold him by his balls and we're going to kick him in the ass; twist his balls and kick the living shit out of him all the time. Our plan of operation is to advance and keep on advancing. We're going to go through the enemy like shit through a tinhorn.
There will be some complaints that we're pushing our people too hard. I don't give a damn about such complaints. I believe that an ounce of sweat will save a gallon of blood. The harder we push, the more Germans we kill. The more Germans we kill, the fewer of our men will be killed. Pushing harder means fewer casualties. I want you all to remember that. My men don't surrender. I don't want to hear of any soldier under my command being captured unless he is hit. Even if you are hit, you can still fight. That's not just bullshit either. I want men like the lieutenant in Libya who, with a Luger against his chest, swept aside the gun with his hand, jerked his helmet off with the other and busted the hell out of the Boche with the helmet. Then he picked up the gun and he killed another German. All this time the man had a bullet through his lung. That's a man for you!
Don't forget, you don't know I'm here at all. No word of that fact is to be mentioned in any letters. The world is not supposed to know what the hell they did with me. I'm not supposed to be commanding this army. I'm not even supposed to be in England. Let the first bastards to find out be the goddamned Germans. Some day, I want them to rise up on their piss-soaked hind legs and howl 'Ach! It's the goddamned Third Army and that son-of-a-bitch Patton again!'
Then there's one thing you men will be able to say when this war is over and you get back home. Thirty years from now when you're sitting by your fireside with your grandson on your knee and he asks, 'What did you do in the great World War Two?' You won't have to cough 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 George Patton!
All right, you sons of bitches. You know how I feel. I'll be proud to lead you wonderful guys in battle any time, anywhere. That's all.
Allahû Âlem (en doğrusunu Allah bilir.)
www.uskudarcevresi.com
Kaynak:
Brighton, Terry (2009), Patton, Montgomery, Rommel: Masters of War, Crown Publishing Group, ISBN 978-0-307-46154-4
Brighton, Terry (2009), Patton, Montgomery, Rommel: Masters of War, Crown Publishing Group, ISBN 978-0-307-46154-4
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