Why George S. Patton Was Never Considered for Supreme Allied Command

On December 7, 1943, General George C. Marshall, the U.S. Army Chief of Staff, received a message from President Franklin D. Roosevelt. The President had just returned from the Tehran Conference, where he had met with Winston Churchill and Joseph Stalin, and one question dominated strategic planning for the upcoming year: who would command the Allied invasion of France?

It was not simply a matter of assigning a job. It was a decision that would shape the final year of the European war—how long the fighting would last, how many soldiers would be lost, and what the post-war balance of power would look like.

For months, many assumed Marshall himself would lead the invasion. After all, no American officer had been more central to the war effort. His organizational skill had transformed a pre-war army of 200,000 into a global force of millions. He had overseen strategy in both Europe and the Pacific, built partnerships with the British, and earned Churchill’s praise as “the organizer of victory.”

Yet Roosevelt hesitated. Marshall’s absence from Washington during a critical phase of global coordination seemed too great a risk. As Roosevelt later admitted, “I did not feel I could sleep at ease if you were out of Washington.”

That left one name: Dwight D. Eisenhower, then commanding Allied forces in the Mediterranean. Eisenhower had never commanded troops in combat prior to 1942. His military background consisted largely of staff work, planning, and diplomacy.

Still, Roosevelt made his choice. Eisenhower would become Supreme Allied Commander for the invasion of France.

The immediate question within the American officer corps was not why Eisenhower was chosen—but why another man was never even considered: Lieutenant General George S. Patton Jr.

Patton had, by late 1943, amassed the most impressive battlefield record of any American general. He had stabilized U.S. forces after the defeat at Kasserine Pass, led rapid victories in North Africa, and conquered Sicily with a speed that stunned both American and British observers. German commanders respected—and feared—his instinctive grasp of mobile warfare.

Yet despite his remarkable achievements, Patton was not on the shortlist for supreme command.

The reason was clear to Marshall, Eisenhower, and Roosevelt long before the public learned of the controversies that would later engulf Patton’s career: Patton could win battles, but he could not manage allies.

The Warrior with a Fatal Leadership Liability

George S. Patton Jr. was brilliant, volatile, theatrical, and unapologetically aggressive. Born into privilege in 1885, he grew up steeped in the mythology of past warriors. He struggled with dyslexia but compensated with relentless study, memorization, and an iron discipline he imposed not just on himself but on everyone around him.

By the time the United States entered World War II, Patton was convinced he had a destiny. He believed mobile armored warfare was the future and, more than that, believed he was the person best equipped to lead it.

But Patton’s character—equal parts genius and instability—made him difficult for senior leaders to trust with coalition responsibilities. He spoke bluntly, often insultingly. He valued military results over political relationships. He leaked operational details to reporters to cultivate his image. He showed little diplomatic tact and had little interest in developing any.

Supreme Allied Command would require balancing American, British, and French demands while coordinating future relations with the Soviet Union. It would involve political decisions as much as military ones.

Patton’s temperament made such a role impossible.

North Africa: Demonstrated Brilliance and Demonstrated Risk

In 1942, Patton led the Western Task Force during Operation Torch. He captured Casablanca with efficiency and minimal casualties. But it was in early 1943, following the defeat at Kasserine Pass, that his true battlefield talent emerged.

Sent to take command of the shattered II Corps, Patton restored discipline almost overnight. He relieved ineffective officers, enforced strict standards, and revived morale. Within two weeks, he transformed the corps into a capable fighting unit that held its ground at El Guettar and began pushing back German forces.

Yet, even as he delivered these vital victories, Patton created tension. His competitive instinct against British commanders strained relationships. Eisenhower spent considerable time smoothing over problems Patton unintentionally caused—problems that would have multiplied tenfold had Patton held supreme authority.

Sicily: Victory at a Diplomatic Cost

In 1943, during the invasion of Sicily, Patton once again demonstrated superior battlefield instinct. He seized Palermo and then Messina with extraordinary speed, beating Montgomery to the final objective despite having been assigned a supporting role.

But this achievement came with consequences. Patton’s drive north was viewed as a deliberate attempt to outshine his British counterpart. His public comments reinforced the perception that he saw the war as a contest for personal glory.

Worse still, his treatment of soldiers suffering from psychological trauma—the infamous slapping incidents—revealed deeper issues of temperament and judgment. These actions, when eventually made public, shocked the American public and embarrassed military leadership. But even before they were widely known, Marshall and Eisenhower had seen enough to conclude that Patton was unsuited for high political command.

Eisenhower vs. Patton: Two Different Kinds of Leaders

The contrast between the two generals could not have been more stark.

Eisenhower

diplomatic, patient, and cooperative

skilled at managing Churchill, Montgomery, de Gaulle, and other political personalities

willing to make military compromises for coalition unity

cautious and methodical

Patton

aggressive, fast, and decisive

focused purely on military results

indifferent or hostile to political constraints

ready to accept high casualties for operational gain

Marshall and Roosevelt viewed the alliance as the central instrument of victory. That meant appointing a commander who could safeguard it—even if that meant slower progress on the battlefield. Eisenhower could do that. Patton could not.

1944: When Patton’s Brilliance Proved the Dilemma

Patton’s performance in France underscored the paradox he posed. When Third Army was unleashed after the breakout at Saint-Lô, it advanced faster than any force in American history. His troops liberated vast areas, captured tens of thousands of prisoners, and nearly broke Germany’s ability to continue the war.

But Patton’s advance was halted—not by German defenses, but by coalition politics. Supplies were diverted to British Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery’s plan, Operation Market Garden, a high-risk airborne assault that ultimately failed. Patton believed he could have ended the war months earlier if supplied adequately.

His instincts were supported by results. Yet Eisenhower’s strategic decisions were shaped by alliance considerations, not purely military logic.

Patton could not accept that.

Battle of the Bulge: A Moment That Proved Both Sides Right

In December 1944, Patton delivered one of the most extraordinary operational maneuvers in the war. He turned his entire army north and counterattacked the German Arden offensive faster than anyone believed possible, relieving Bastogne and stabilizing the front.

It was a triumph of initiative and preparation—a demonstration of why many officers believed Patton was the finest field commander they had.

Yet even this success reinforced why he was never given supreme command. His brilliance was tactical and operational. He could move armies with astonishing speed, but could not govern multinational alliances or political relationships.

Supreme Command required a manager of nations, not merely a master of movement.

After the War: Final Proof of Roosevelt’s Decision

Following Germany’s surrender, Patton served as a military governor in Bavaria, a position requiring patience, diplomacy, and political restraint.

He struggled in the role. His comments about former Nazi officials, his public criticisms of allied policy, and his provocative statements about the Soviet Union forced Eisenhower to remove him from political authority.

In the end, Patton’s greatest strengths as a warrior became liabilities as a statesman.

The Larger Lesson: Coalition War Chooses Diplomacy Over Genius

George S. Patton Jr. might have shortened the war in Europe had he been given full strategic authority. He might have prevented costly battles that occurred because of slower, more cautious planning. He might even have influenced the political landscape of post-war Europe.

But coalition warfare is not designed to reward disruptive genius. It is designed to preserve unity among partners and ensure political objectives are met—even at the cost of military efficiency.

Patton was a commander of extraordinary talent, but he was a commander for battles, not coalitions. Eisenhower was the opposite—a strategist of diplomacy rather than raw aggression.

Roosevelt and Marshall understood this. They chose the general who could manage an alliance rather than the one who could win fastest.

Supreme Command required political discipline. Patton offered none.