Show Notes
George S. Patton is considered one of America’s greatest generals for his blitzes across Europe in World War 2. He is celebrated for breaking out of Normandy because his Third Army push out of their holdings along the coast, unleashing a lightning-fast armored blitz across northern France that routed retreating German forces and liberated Paris months ahead of schedule. And following the Third Army’s dramatic relief of Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge, the American press and public widely lionized Patton as a national hero who spearheaded the drive into Germany. When he returned stateside in June 1945, he received massive ticker-tape parades and hero’s welcomes in Boston, Los Angeles, and Denver, drawing crowds of hundreds of thousands. Officially, the military affirmed his heroism by awarding him two Distinguished Service Crosses—the nation’s second-highest valor award, explicitly citing his "extraordinary heroism" under enemy fire in both world wars. He was immortalized in the George C. Scott movie ‘Patton’, and has persistently been named in polls as the greatest American military commander of all time. But that’s not how some of his fellow generals saw it. In 1947, Omar Bradley, who had commanded all American ground forces in Europe, wrote a single sentence that should have ended the most persistent myth of the war: "Many people give Patton and his Third Army credit for the breakout from Normandy. He had nothing to do with its planning or execution." Patton arrived after the hole had been punched and drove through open country against almost no opposition. First Army veterans had a phrase for it: "He did not break out. He walked out." Today's guest is James Ellman, author of Patton Reconsidered: General George S. Patton Jr. as a Wartime Commander. We look at the mythology of Patton and see there’s an argument to be made his image was wildly inflated as part of a media campaign, and he had serious shortcomings as a strategist. We discuss how the single most important factor in Patton's career was a friendship with a next-door neighbor named Eisenhower who saved him from dismissal at least five times, how Patton's men posed as First Army soldiers to steal fuel convoys in a scheme that almost certainly got other Americans killed, and why four other American army commanders achieved comparable victories without any of the scandals and are completely forgotten today. Ellman argues that calling Patton a military genius does a disservice to every soldier who served under him and every general who performed as well or better without the drama, and that the traits the Patton legend celebrates, recklessness, insubordination, contempt for logistics, and mistreatment of troops, are exactly the ones the modern US military should be discouraging, not enshrining. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
More from History Unplugged Podcast
On May 29, 1453, Ottoman Sultan Mehmet II captured Constantinople, bringing an end to over a thousand years of Byzantine rule. The city's formidable walls, which had stood nearly impenetrable for eight centuries, finally fell to hisforces. With its conquest, Constantinople was declared the new capital of the Ottoman Empire. Some historians marked this conquest as the end of the Middle Ages. Built by Theodosius II to safeguard the "New Rome," these walls stretched from the Golden Horn to the Sea of Marmara, marking the borders of ancient Istanbul. Through centuries of earthquakes, sieges, and urban expansion, their gates and fortifications have endured, preserving the legacy of the city's past. To discuss the world-history importance of this conquest is today’s guest, Alexander Christie-Miller, author of “To The City: Life and Death Along the Ancient Walls of Istanbul.” See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
In the summer of 1849, Edgar Allan Poe knocked on the door of his friend John Sartain's Philadelphia workshop, wild-eyed and without luggage. He had fled a train in New Jersey after overhearing passengers plotting to kill him. His senses had grown so acute, he said, that he could hear whispers from miles away. He asked for a razor to shave off his mustache so his assassins would not recognize him. Sartain, who was not about to hand his friend a blade, cut it off with scissors instead. That night, Sartain followed Poe on a midnight walk to a rickety platform high above the Schuylkill River and stood between him and the drop, hoping the man beside him could pull himself back from the edge. A few weeks later, Poe was found delirious outside a Baltimore polling place wearing clothes that were not his own. He died four days after that. He was forty years old. Today's guest is Emily Ogden, author of Darkness Becomes Bright: On the Brief Life and Immortal Art of Edgar Allan Poe. We discuss how Poe was orphaned at two, raised by a foster father who disinherited him, and married his thirteen-year-old first cousin, whose five-year death from tuberculosis drove the most productive and most desperate period of his career. We look at why Poe’s compulsive self-sabotage, from quitting steady jobs to destroying his chances for a government sinecure by getting drunk and insulting everyone at the party. We see that Poe's genius was to turn toward darkness rather than away from it, and that in doing so he created a space where the rest of us can tolerate ourselves as we actually are: limited, cruel, perverse, and mortal, but still glittering with a heavenly light. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
The 17th-century battlefield ushered in a new era, with formed musketeers and pistol-wielding cavalry gradually taking over from the knights and men-at-arms that had dominated the European battlefield. But knights could still be found on these battlefields as late as the 1640s, proudly donning their full-plated armor as their lightly clad compatriots looked on in a mix of envy and confusion. What were they doing fighting 17th-century battles?
In 1861, an archaeologist named James Farrer broke into a grass-covered Neolithic tomb on the Orkney Islands expecting to find ancient bones and treasure. The tomb was empty. But its walls were covered with runic inscriptions, dozens of them, carved by Norse visitors centuries earlier. Most were mundane: "Arnfinnr Food carved these runes." Some were lewd: Two were extraordinary: "Crusaders broke into this barrow." "Jerusalem-men broke this mound." The worlds of the Viking north and the Crusades are artificially separated in the popular imagination, but Scandinavians were among the most enthusiastic, brutal, and consequential crusaders in history – working as the shock troops of the first four crusades, and single-handedly converting pagan Baltic Europe to Christianity in a couple of centuries. Today's guest is Thomas Williams, former curator at the British Museum and author of God's Hammer: A History of the Viking Crusades. We discuss how Scandinavians went from being Christianity's most terrifying enemies to some of its most enthusiastic holy warriors within two centuries, why Harald Hardrada served as a Byzantine mercenary across the Mediterranean and may have policed the pilgrimage routes to Jerusalem sixty years before the First Crusade, and how Vladimir of Kyiv chose Byzantine Christianity over Islam partly because "drinking is the joy of the Russes." We look at how the Norwegian King Sigurd fought his way through the entire Mediterranean six years after the First Crusade to help capture the port of Sidon and received a splinter of the True Cross, and why the Danish conquest of a pagan temple fortress on the Baltic island of Rügen established the template for centuries of northern holy war. Williams argues that crusading gave the violence that had always defined Norse culture a new legitimacy and a new set of enemies, and that they had found a way to be Vikings and Christians at the same time. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.
When the First Crusade arrived at the walls of Antioch in 1097, the two most powerful Muslim rulers in Syria were not preparing a joint defense. They were trying to destroy each other. Ridwan of Aleppo and his brother Duqaq of Damascus had been locked in a fratricidal war over their dead father's territories, and neither would yield an inch to help the other. When Karbugha of Mosul finally assembled a massive coalition army to crush the crusaders, it collapsed in a single afternoon despite overwhelming numerical superiority, because the Arab contingents distrusted the Turkish ones, Ridwan was stirring up trouble from the sidelines, and no one trusted anyone else enough to commit fully to the fight. The First Crusade succeeded not because of any tactically brilliant move of Godfrey of Bouillon (although the Siege of Jerusalem was impressive) but because the Islamic world was tearing itself apart. Today's guest is Nicholas Morton, author of The Crusader Storm: A Global History of the Wars for the Middle East. We discuss how the Seljuk Turkish invasions reshaped the Middle East far more profoundly than the crusaders ever did, why the Fatimid Empire initially treated the crusaders as useful allies against the Seljuks and then made a catastrophic diplomatic blunder at Jerusalem that turned a potential partnership into an existential war, and how the Italian merchant cities of Genoa, Pisa, and Venice were the true kingmakers of the Crusader States because the Franks had almost no ships. We look at how Saladin spent far more of his career fighting fellow Muslims than fighting Christians and needed the Battle of Hattin to justify his entire political project to his own coalition, and why the war for control of Egypt between 1163 and 1169 was the strategic hinge that made the fall of Jerusalem virtually inevitable. Morton argues that the crusades were not a clash of civilizations but one disruption among many in a region already convulsed by Seljuk expansion, Fatimid collapse, and Byzantine intervention, and that placing the holy wars within this wider framework makes the religious fervor that drove them more remarkable, not less. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.