One of America’s finest military heroes—both because of his warfare acumen and because of the sight of him standing upright, and his ivory-handled revolvers—is General George S. Patton, Jr. These sidearms were nearly as well-known as his aggressive tactics and demanding personality.
Patton fell in love with personal handguns in his early years in his career. Whereas the rest of the other officers wore the issued arms, he opted to wear something that was more his own personal style and taste. His go-to weapons were two: a Colt Single Action Army .45 revolver and a Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum, both ivory-gripped and elaborately engraved.
For a time, he even announced his preference in a maxim that became part of his legend: “They’re ivory.”. Only a prostitute pimp in a sleazy New Orleans brothel would sport a pearl-handled pistol. That remark, which was reprised in the 1970 film Patton, only served to add to his mystique.
His .45 Colt pistol began life in the Punitive Expedition of 1916, when Patton was a green lieutenant tracking down Pancho Villa’s armies along the Mexican border.
In a shootout with Villista lieutenant Julio Cardenas while raiding one of Villa’s supposed hideouts on a ranch, Patton fired five times with ice-chip accuracy from his new revolver, hitting Cardenas and his horse. That was baptism by fire—a test of nerve that would make him a great combat commander and instill the habit of always carrying a spare gun as a means of emergency survival. To Patton, the guns were something more than weapons of war.
They were both emblazoned with his initials, “GSP,” chiseled into the ivory grips and included an exclusive one-of-a-kind U.S. officer’s leather cartridge belt that he wore throughout the majority of World War II. While he did not normally wear them at the same time, both had their uses: the .45 was his standard-issue sidearm, while the .357 Magnum was his combat “killing gun” used in cases where killing was more crucial than simply frightening a man. Patton’s leadership was as fiery as the guns alongside him.
He was inclined towards leading by example, putting his life at risk to motivate soldiers in his command. His campaigns in North Africa, Sicily, and across Western Europe were defined by rapidity, precision, and aggressive action.
Whether it was his rapid push to liberate Bastogne in the Battle of the Bulge or his push into Germany, Patton always showed his ability to turn around the tide of a battle and save lives. His revolvers, glinting in photographs and newsreels, were tangible symbols of his belligerent, unstoppable approach. Tragedy, however, cut short his own life before its time away from the battlefield.
On December 9, 1945, in occupied Germany, Patton’s car crashed into an Army truck. Paralyzing him, although he initially improved, Patton died twelve days later. His wife, Beatrice, had demanded he be buried with his beloved Third Army troops at the American Cemetery in Hamm, Luxembourg—the men who had fought and perished fighting for him in the Battle of the Bulge.
His funeral was conducted with full military honors, a 17-gun salute, and rabbis reading prayers, crediting him with having liberated thousands of people from Nazi concentration camps. Patton’s grave initially rested in a far corner of the cemetery, but was later relocated to the area next to the road so that people could easily go and pay their respects.
His white cross, which stands before him today, is pointed at the ranks of men once under his command, the last expression of command and loyalty. Today, the legend of his ivory-handled revolvers exists—not just as showy guns, but as lasting symbols of a commander whose presence, bravery, and persistence left indelible marks on history.