General George S. Patton, Jr., is still one of America’s best-known military commanders—both for his masterful battlefield maneuvers and for his one-of-a-kind personality: standing upright, dressed to the nines, and sporting his signature ivory-handled revolvers. Those weapons became almost as legendary as their owner himself, epitomizing his belligerent personality and brusque style of command.
Since the beginning of his career, Patton was different from his contemporaries. While other officers wore issued sidearms, Patton preferred those more in keeping with his own personality. His two favorites were each peculiarly different from the other: a Colt Single Action Army .45 and a Smith & Wesson .357 Magnum. Both featured smooth ivory grips and had elaborate engravings upon them, so they stood out readily.
Patton even described his taste with a venomous put-down which went on to become legendary: “They’re ivory.” He sneered at pearl-handled guns with his tried-and-true standby put-down, fitting a pimp in a sleazy New Orleans bawdy house, who would carry such a gun. The comment, repeated later in the 1970 film Patton, served to cement him further as a man of quick wit and even quicker taste.
His .45 Colt held a tale. Patton bought it in the 1916 Punitive Expedition against Pancho Villa in Mexico as a young lieutenant. When in one fierce firefight at a ranch house, he drew the six-shooter on Villista commander Julio Cardenas. With cold calculation, he emptied the six-shooter’s five rounds into Cardenas and his horse. That initial baptism of fire cemented his reputation for bravery and made him a chronic toter of more than a weapon—insurance against death in combat.
These ivory-handled revolvers were more than tokens but engraved, personalized tools of warfare. Each grip bore his initials, “GSP,” on the face. He wore them with a specially made leather cartridge belt, one he wore around his waist in World War II. Although never worn at the same time, each had its purpose: the Colt .45 as his loyal sidearm and the .357 Magnum his “killing gun” to be used only when the use of deadly force was unavoidable.
Patton’s manner was the style of such guns—tough, unforgiving, and unyielding. He was the type of commander who risked his life to energize his troops, leading from the front and not the war room. His operations in North Africa, Sicily, and Europe were characteristic of his unyielding drive for speed and accuracy.
Nowhere was his ability more evident than during the Battle of the Bulge, in which he sent his Third Army into abysmal winter weather to relieve the besieged town of Bastogne. His speedy advance saved thousands of lives and turned a potential disaster into a triumph of the Allies. Pictures of Patton in combat during the war would often indicate the flash of ivory at his hip, reminding all of his presence and his unrelenting persistence.
But fortune cut short his life. On December 9, 1945, many years after the victory in Europe, Patton’s automobile was involved in a collision with an Army truck in occupied Germany. He was critically injured and paralyzed. Although he rallied for a period of time, he succumbed to his injuries twelve days later.
At the behest of his wife, Beatrice, he was interred with his soldiers in the American Cemetery at Hamm, Luxembourg—the Third Army soldiers who fought and died under his command. His full military honors funeral and 17-gun salute reawakened both his triumphs and his role in freeing thousands of Nazis from their camps.
Patton’s grave was then relocated near the road so travelers might more easily pay tribute. His white cross faces ranks of his men, as if he still stands watch over them.
And today the picture of those ivory-handled guns remains in the mind—not as gaudy trinkets, but as s testament to a commander who worked on nerve, fought with fury, and commanded with indomitable will. They are as much a part of his legacy as the battles he won and the men he inspired.