Sketchy Military Affairs After 1918

The United States bailed out Britain with its decisive entry into the First World War. Patton on the western front believed the United States should have not signed an armistice but should have forced Germany to fight until unconditional surrender. Britain was decimated with casualties in the war. The Cambridge University class of 1914 for instance, had something like 80% casualties. Britain wasn’t in any condition to fight another war, while the United States was strong and getting stronger.

Eisenhower wanted to go to Europe from his job being a tank instructor at Ft. Hood, yet the army wouldn’t let him. It turned out that he had a role to play in the final battle of The First World War named The Second World War.

The United States perhaps should not have got involved in the First World War and instead could have let Germany win. Crown Prince Ruprecht led a break-through just before the end of the war 250 miles into France and then ran out of troops to continue. The entry of the United States had provided much manpower to wear Germany down. If Germany had won the war there would not have followed an Adolph Hitler and Third Reich.

George S. Patton’s poem

Peace -- November 11, 1918 - Poem by General George S Patton Jnr

“I stood in the flag-decked cheering crowd
Where all but I were gay,
And gazing on their extesy,
My heart shrank in dismay.

For theirs was the joy of the 'little folk'
The cruel glee of the weak,
Who, banded together, have slain the strong
Which none alone dared seek.

The Bosch we know was a hideous beast
Beyond our era's ban,
But soldiers still must honor the Hun
As a mighty fighting man.

The vice he had was strong and real
Of virtue he had none,
Yet he fought the world remorselessly
And very nearly won…

And looking forward I could see
Like a festering sewer;
Full of the fecal Pacifists
Which peace makes us endure….

None of the hold and blatant sin
The disregard of pain,
The glorious deeds of sacrefice
which follow in wars train.

Instead of these the little lives
Will blossom as before,
Pale bloom of creatures all too weak
To hear the light of war.

While we whose spirits wider range
Can grasp the joys of strife,
Will moulder in the virtuous vice
Of futile peaceful life.

We can but hope that e're we drown
'Neath treacle floods of grace,
The tuneless horns of mighty, Mars
Once more shall rouse the Race

When such times come, Oh! God of War
Grant that we pass midst strife,
Knowing once more the whitehot joy
Of taking human life.

Then pass in peace, blood-glutted Bosch
And when we too shall fall,
We'll clasp in yours our gory hands
In High Valhallas' Hall. “