Patton’s victory parade in Los Angeles in June 1945
Patton in Boston. (Note also the fine physical features of white Americans 73 years ago, compared to the dark mongrels and mostly-whites we see today.)
.https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LCAtUC7tOpo
….From my blogs on Trump as Patton
This was the first one:
https://johndenugent.com/english/why-despite-everything-i-have-endorsed-donald-trump-for-president-his-war-on-clinton-bush-and-he-is-literally-the-reincarnation-of-the-jew-hating-i-want-a-hor/
One of his pistols – he was ever the showman, even back then
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the Jews clearly have some kind of insurmountable blackmail or frame-up going on Trump.
Trump and convicted pedophile Jeffrey Epstein, a Jewish billionaire
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Epstein’s little black book of private phone numbers
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Not just Trump….
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My 54,000-view video on VIP pedos (April 20, 2015 video on the pedophile Leo Frank and modern VIP child molesters — I am not yet at all convinced Trump is a molester, but he could be framed using a CGI-created video, since he demonstrably did pal around with Epstein and other Jew billionaires):
.https://johndenugent.com/images/VIP-Pedophiles.mp4.mp4
….Patton’s 1918 poem on how he loves war and strife
Through A Glass, Darkly (1918)
Through the travail of the ages,
Midst the pomp and toil of war,
Have I fought and strove and perished
Countless times upon this star.
The age long strife I see
Where I fought in many guises,
Many names, but always me.
So forever in the future,
Shall I battle as of yore,
Dying to be born a fighter,
But to die again, once more.
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Through the travail of the ages,
Midst the pomp and toil of war,
Have I 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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
Tombstone of George Smith Patton, Sr. in Luxembourg, surrounded by his fallen men. Patton wrote: “It is foolish and wrong to mourn the men who died. Rather we should thank God that such men lived.”
Great read, thank you.