Books: Five-Star Legend

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LUCKY FORWARD (424 pp.)—Robert S. Allen—Vanguard ($5).

George Patton, able General and chronic martinet, stood on the steps of a medieval English manor and sounded off to his staff: "... I mean business when I fight. I don't fight for fun and I won't tolerate anyone on my Staff who does. . . . Ahead of you lies battle. ... It is inevitable for men to be killed and wounded in battle. But there is no reason why such losses should be increased because of the incompetence and carelessness of some stupid son-of-a-bitch. I don't tolerate such men on my Staff."

Neither incompetent nor careless, and by no means stupid, Robert Sharon Allen of Pearson & Allen's Washington Merry-Go-Round was Patton's G-2 operations executive (i.e., military intelligence officer) in the ETO campaigns. He came home minus his right arm, sporting a rash of ribbons and a Patton commendation for "superior performance." No shrinking violet, Allen has let his publisher spread the commendation on the jacket of Lucky Forward, his raucous, truculent history of Patton's Third Army. In a not very roundabout way, the author is made to shine in the reflection of Patton's glories, for, according to Allen, "Patton never made a move without first consulting G2. In planning, G-2 always had the first say."

George the "Greatest." Were George Patton alive, he would surely relish what Allen has to say in Lucky Forward: 1) ". ... Patton was the greatest battle commander produced in this country since the Civil War"; 2) Patton would have ended the European war months sooner had not SHAEF stymied the Third Army every time it got rolling; 3) had Patton's plans not been upset by higher headquarters, the Germans could never have mounted their Ardennes campaign; 4) many of the Third Army's great victories were won only because Patton, sometimes with General Omar Bradley's help, attacked when SHAEF wanted him to defend.

Many a Third Army veteran will read with some surprise that hard-riding General Patton was "a hero to his men" and that he was generally called "Georgie." To most combat men, he was "Patton," their general and a good one, but they were seldom taken in by the publicity Patton courted. Most line troops resented his flashy, self-designed uniforms, sardonically muttered "our blood and his guts," when they heard his pre-battle exhortations. No Third Army infantryman could have written such stuff-&-nonsense as this: "An attack might appear suicidal, but if 'Georgie' ordered it, it was accepted as a sound and tenable mission."

Former foot soldiers, who regarded even a regimental headquarters as a soft spot, may also find it hard to understand Allen when he writes: "Tailors and bootmakers in neighboring towns were deluged with rush orders for smart battle jackets and combat boots . . . high-geared action, hard-hitting competence, and breezy cockiness became HQ Third Army's fixed character and tempo. It moved, talked, and fought, fast, tough, and hard."