What General Bradley Said When Patton Saved the 101st Airborne…
December 19th, 1944. Verdon, France. 16 senior Allied commanders sit in a freezing room. The Battle of the Bulge rages 50 mi north. The largest battle ever fought by the US Army. The 101st Airborne is surrounded at Bastonia. Eisenhower asks, “How soon can you attack?” Montgomery says, “One week.” Others say 10 days. Patton stands up. I can attack with three divisions in 48 hours. The room goes silent. Bradley stares at his old friend, thinking he’s lost his mind.
It’s impossible. Patton’s entire third army is facing east, attacking into Germany. To reach Bastonia means turning 250,000 men 90° in the worst winter in decades and attacking uphill into the teeth of German armor. But on December 26th, 7 days later, Patton’s tanks smash through to Bastonia, and Bradley says something he’ll remember the rest of his life. This is that story. December 18th, 1944 night. Lieutenant General Omar Nelson Bradley sat in his 12th Army Group headquarters in Luxembourg City, studying reconnaissance reports with growing alarm.
For 2 days, German forces had been pouring through the Ardens forest. The supposedly impenetrable terrain where Allied intelligence had assured him no major offensive could occur. Those asurances were now revealed as catastrophically wrong. The scope of the German offensive was staggering. Over 200,000 German troops supported by nearly 1,000 tanks had smashed into the thinly held American VI core sector. Units were scattered, communications disrupted, command and control breaking down. Some American divisions had simply disintegrated under the onslaught.
Others fought desperately while retreating westward. Bradley picked up the phone and called Lieutenant General George Smith Patton Jr., commanding Third Army to the south. The conversation would become legendary, later dramatized in films, but never fully capturing the tension of that moment. Brad, I’ve got a bridge head across the SAR, Patton began enthusiastically. I’m on my way into Germany. Third Army had been hammering at German defenses for weeks, finally achieving breakthrough. Patton was preparing to exploit success with the kind of rapid armored thrust that had made him famous across France in August.
Wait a minute, George, Bradley interrupted. There’s a lot of trouble up north, he explained the situation. A massive German offensive, entire divisions overrun, the front collapsing. Bradley needed Patton to send his 10th Armored Division north immediately to help stabilize the situation. Patton objected. Without the 10th Armored, he couldn’t exploit his breakthrough at Sarbrooken. Everything Third Army had fought for over the past month would be wasted. But Bradley was insistent. The situation was critical. Eisenhower wanted all senior commanders at Verdun the next morning for an emergency conference.
After hanging up, Patton did something that would prove decisive. Despite his frustration, he recognized the German offensive might be more than a spoiling attack. His intelligence officer, Colonel Oscar Ko, had been warning for weeks about German buildups opposite the Arden. Patton had dismissed concerns about his own sector. Third army faced south and east, not north. But Ko’s methodology was sound. Patton called in his staff. The Germans have launched a major offensive through the Arden. He told them, “Eisenhower wants us at Verdun tomorrow morning.
I suspect we’re going to be ordered to turn north and attack into the German flank.” His staff officers exchanged glances. “Turn north?” The entire Third Army was oriented east and south. “Turning 90° while maintaining combat effectiveness would be extraordinarily difficult. Start planning,” Patton ordered. I want three plans. First, an attack north with three divisions. Second, an attack with four divisions. Third, an attack with six divisions. Have them ready by morning. His staff thought he was being optimistic.
Surely Eisenhower wouldn’t order such a massive reorientation so quickly. But Patton understood something his peers often missed. In mobile warfare, tempo matters more than perfect preparation. The German offensive was creating both crisis and opportunity. crisis for Allied forces caught in the onslaught. But opportunity for a powerful counterattack into the German flank. If Third Army could pivot north quickly enough, Patton could strike German forces while they were overextended and focused on their advance westward. Throughout that night, Third Army staff officers worked frantically.
They studied maps of the Arden’s region, plotted road networks, calculated fuel requirements, drafted movement orders. The logistics were staggering. Moving hundreds of thousands of soldiers, tens of thousands of vehicles, and mountains of supplies 90° in winter conditions seemed almost impossible. Bradley, meanwhile, was confronting his own crisis of confidence. As 12th Army Group Commander, responsibility for the Arden sector fell ultimately on him. He had accepted intelligence assessments that deemed the area unsuitable for major German operations. He had positioned inexperienced divisions there, believing it a quiet sector where green troops could gain combat experience safely.
Those decisions now looked catastrophically wrong. December 19th, 1944, 11:00 a.m. The conference room in Verdun’s Casser Majinino was freezing. 16 senior Allied commanders sat bundled in heavy coats, their breath visible in the cold air. Supreme Commander General Dwight David Eisenhower called the meeting to order with characteristic directness. The present situation is to be regarded as one of opportunity for us and not of disaster. The statement seemed absurd. German forces had driven a massive bulge into Allied lines, hence the battle’s eventual name.
American casualties were mounting by the hour. Units were scattered across the Arden. Communications remained chaotic, but Eisenhower’s strategic instinct was sound. The German offensive had pulled their reserves out of defensive positions. If Allied forces could blunt the advance and counterattack, they might trap and destroy significant German forces. Eisenhower outlined the situation. The German offensive aimed to cross the Muse River, capture Antworp, and split Allied forces. The town of Bastonia, a crossroads where seven major roads converged, was critical to German plans.
The 101st Airborne Division, rushed from reserve, had reached Bastonia just hours before German forces surrounded it. Now the paratroopers were besieged along with elements of the 10th Armored Division and other scattered units. We must hold Bastonia, Eisenhower declared. The Germans needed those roads. Denying them Bastonia would slow their entire offensive, but holding meant relieving the surrounded garrison before they ran out of ammunition, food, and medical supplies. Eisenhower turned to Patton. George, how soon can you attack north with a substantial force.
What happened next entered military legend. Patton stood and walked to the situation map. I can attack with three divisions on December 22nd, he stated flatly. 48 hours from now. The room erupted. Several commanders laughed, thinking Patton was joking or grandstanding. British officers rolled their eyes. Classic American bravado. Even Bradley was skeptical. He knew Patton’s tendency toward optimistic predictions and aggressive rhetoric. “When can you start?” Eisenhower pressed, wanting a realistic assessment. “The morning of December 22nd,” Patton repeated.
“With three divisions, the Fourth Armored, the 26th Infantry, and the 80th Infantry.” Bradley’s chief of staff leaned over and whispered, “He’s bluffing. There’s no way.” But Patton wasn’t bluffing. While his staff had worked through the night preparing contingency plans, Patton had already made his decision. He would execute the three division attack plan. Fourth armored division leading as the spearhead with two infantry divisions providing flank support. The objective, drive north from the Arlon area, break through German lines south of Bastonia, and relieve the 101st Airborne.
Bradley knew Patton well enough to recognize he was serious. They had been friends since West Point, had served together for decades. Patton didn’t make promises he couldn’t keep, not in combat operations. But even knowing Patton’s capabilities, Bradley found the timeline almost impossible to believe. “That’s a tall order, George,” Bradley said carefully. Patton’s response was characteristic. “We’ll do it. My staff already has movement orders prepared. Units are standing by for execution. We’ll attack on the 22nd.” Montgomery, commanding 21st Army Group north of the Bulge, stated he could launch his counter offensive.
not before January 1st. He needed time to properly organize mass forces, ensure adequate supplies. This methodical approach was typical Montgomery. Thorough, careful, reluctant to attack before everything was perfect. The contrast couldn’t have been more stark. Montgomery needed 2 weeks. Patton promised 48 hours. Eisenhower, caught between British caution and American aggressiveness, made his decision. Patton would attack south of the bulge on December 22nd. Montgomery would organize northern counteroffensive for early January. As the conference broke up, Bradley pulled Patton aside.
George, you better deliver on this. The whole Allied command structure just heard you promise the impossible. Patton’s reply was simple. I’ll be in Bastonia by Christmas. December 19th, 21, 1944. What followed was one of the most remarkable military maneuvers in American history. Third Army had approximately 250,000 soldiers, over 130,000 vehicles, and was actively engaged in combat operations against German forces to the east and south. Now, it had to disengage, pivot 90°, and attack northward, all while maintaining combat effectiveness in the worst winter weather in 38 years.
The logistics were staggering. Roads in the region were narrow, icy, and packed with military traffic moving in multiple directions. Fuel trucks had to navigate the same routes as combat units. Artillery battalions needed to relocate from firing positions in the SAR to new positions facing north. Communications networks had to be completely reconfigured. Supply dumps established for eastward operations had to be abandoned or relocated. Patent staff worked around the clock. Movement orders went out to every division, regiment, battalion.
Engineers prepared routes, marking them with signs to prevent units from getting lost in the confusion. Military police were positioned at critical intersections to direct traffic. Fuel dumps were established along the routes to keep vehicles moving. The weather was brutal. Temperatures plunged below freezing. Snow mixed with freezing rain created treacherous road conditions. Soldiers who had been fighting in relatively dry conditions to the south now faced the full fury of the Arden’s winter. Vehicles broke down from the cold.
Frostbite and Trenchoot became immediate concerns, but Patton’s reputation for strict discipline and intensive training paid dividends. Third army units executed their movement orders with remarkable efficiency. Unit commanders understood that speed mattered more than perfect positioning. Getting forces into action quickly was better than waiting to arrange everything. Ideally, the fourth armored division, selected as the spearhead, began moving north on December 19th. This battleh hardardened formation had fought across France since the Normandy breakout. Its soldiers were experienced, its leaders competent, its equipment well-maintained.
But even the fourth armored had never attempted anything like this, moving over 100 m in winter conditions, then immediately attacking into prepared German defenses. The 26th Infantry Division, commanded by Major General Willard Paul, followed. This division had seen heavy fighting in Lraine and had suffered significant casualties, but its soldiers were tough and determined. Behind them came the 80th Infantry Division under Major General Horus McBride, another experienced formation that had earned Patton’s respect through hard fighting. By December 21st, all three divisions were in position south of Bastonia.
They had covered distances that ranged from 75 to over 150 mi, depending on starting positions. The movement had been executed in 48 to 72 hours, exactly as Patton promised. Bradley, watching from 12th Army Group headquarters, was amazed. He had doubted whether Patton could deliver on his promise. Now, Third Army forces were positioned to attack on schedule despite challenges that should have made the operation impossible. On December 22nd, Patton’s forces attacked northward. The fourth armored division led the assault, driving toward Bastonia through heavily defended German positions.
The fighting was immediately fierce. German forces, surprised by the speed of American response, had nonetheless positioned strong defenses south of Bastonia. They recognized that relieving the besieged garrison would undermine their entire offensive. Weather continued to hamper operations. Fog, snow, and overcast conditions prevented air support. Artillery struggled to maintain fire support while displacing forward. Infantry advanced through frozen forests where German defenders had prepared ambush positions. Tank battles erupted on icy roads where maneuver was nearly impossible. Progress was measured in hundreds of yards, sometimes less.
Villages became fortresses where every building required clearing. German counterattacks struck American flanks. Casualties mounted, but Third Army forces maintained offensive momentum. They didn’t pause to consolidate or reorganize. They attacked, advanced, attacked again. December 23rd, 26th, 1944. Inside Bastonia, the situation grew increasingly desperate. Brigadier General Anthony Clement McAuliffe, acting commander of the 101st Airborne Division, maintained morale through sheer force of personality and the paratroopers own toughness. When German commanders sent a surrender ultimatum on December 22nd, McAuliff’s one-word response, nuts, became legendary.
But legendary responses didn’t solve the garrison’s fundamental problems. Dwindling ammunition, scarce medical supplies, and wounded soldiers in need of evacuation. On December 23rd, weather finally cleared. Allied air power, grounded for days by fog and overcast conditions, struck German positions with devastating effect. Hundreds of C-47 transport aircraft dropped supplies to the Bastonia garrison. Paratroopers rushed to retrieve containers of ammunition, rations, and medical supplies. Spirits soared. They weren’t abandoned, but relief still depended on Patton’s advance. South of Baston, the fourth armored division ground forward against stubborn German resistance.
The division was organized into three combat commands. small, flexible task forces combining tanks, infantry, and artillery. Combat Command B, led by Lieutenant Colonel Kraton Williams Abrams Jr. spearheaded the main thrust. Abrams was a tanker’s tanker, aggressive, skilled, fearless. His soldiers trusted him completely. On December 26th, Abrams received orders to break through to Beastonia regardless of cost. He organized a task force around Company C of the 37th Tank Battalion and elements of the 53rd Armored Infantry Battalion. The objective, drive straight up the road from Aseninoa to Bastonia, approximately 4 mi through whatever German forces stood in the way.
The attack began at 3onp. Sherman tanks, infantry halftracks, and supporting vehicles charged up the road in a column. German forces caught by surprise at the audacity of the assault responded with anti-tank fire and small arms. American tanks fired on the move, suppressing German positions. Infantry cleared houses and strong points. The column kept moving. At 4:50 p.m., Lieutenant Charles Boggas, commanding the lead tank Cobra King, approached Bastonia’s perimeter. He stood in his turret hatch, waving an orange identification panel.
Soldiers of the 326th Airborne Engineer Battalion, manning positions on the perimeter, recognized American tanks approaching from the south. They had been relieved. News spread instantly through Bastonia. The 101st Airborne, besieged for 7 days, was no longer cut off. Within hours, supply convoys began entering the town. Wounded soldiers were evacuated. Fresh ammunition arrived. The relief had succeeded. When Bradley received confirmation that Patton’s forces had broken through to Bastonia, his reaction was complex. Pride in American soldiers achievement mixed with relief that the risky operation had succeeded, but also amazement at what Patton had accomplished.
In 7 days, not the 48 hours promised for the attack to begin, but an astonishingly short time nonetheless. Patton had turned an entire army, fought through prepared German defenses, and relieved a besieged garrison that many had feared would be overrun. Bradley called Patton personally. The conversation was brief. George, congratulations. You did it. Patton’s response was characteristic. The 101st didn’t need rescuing. They were doing fine. We just opened the door so they could continue the fight. This exchange captured the complex relationship between the 101st Airborne and Patton’s relief force.
Paratroopers bristled at suggestions they had been rescued. They had held Bastonia against overwhelming odds, repelled multiple German assaults, and maintained combat effectiveness throughout the siege. McAuliff’s nuts response embodied their defiant spirit, but practical reality was undeniable. Without Patton’s relief, the garrison would eventually have been overrun or forced to surrender. Ammunition was nearly exhausted. Medical supplies were critically low. German forces surrounding the town outnumbered defenders significantly. The siege could not have continued indefinitely. December 27th, 1944. January 1945.
The relief of Bastonia didn’t end the battle. For three more weeks, fierce fighting raged around the town as German forces attempted to recapture it, and Allied forces worked to eliminate the entire bulge. But the symbolic and strategic significance of Bastonia’s relief was immediate and profound. Bradley’s assessment of Patton’s achievement evolved in the days following the breakthrough. In his personal notes and later in his memoirs, Bradley reflected on what Third Army had accomplished. His comments revealed both professional military judgment and personal understanding of Patton’s unique capabilities.
George did it better and faster than I had any right to expect, Bradley wrote. This was high praise from a commander known for understated expression. Bradley recognized that Patton’s 48-hour promise referred to launching the attack, not completing the relief, but even accounting for that distinction. The speed of Third Army’s response was remarkable. What impressed Bradley most wasn’t just the rapidity of movement, but the combat effectiveness maintained throughout the operation. Third Army didn’t simply rush north in disorder.
It executed a coordinated maneuver that maintained unit cohesion, preserved command and control, and delivered forces ready to fight immediately upon arrival. This required exceptional staff work, experienced leadership, and well-trained soldiers. Bradley also recognized the operational risk Patton had accepted. By committing three divisions to the Bastonia relief, Third Army had weakened its positions facing east and south. German forces could have counterattacked into Third Army’s exposed flanks. Supply lines were stretched dangerously thin. If the relief had failed, or if German forces had launched successful counterattacks elsewhere, Patton would have faced severe criticism.
But Patton had calculated correctly that speed mattered more than perfect security. In mobile warfare, tempo and initiative often trump caution. By attacking quickly, Third Army seized the initiative from German forces still focused on their westward advance. The psychological impact alone was significant. German commanders had to divert attention and resources to counter Third Army’s thrust, weakening their main effort. On January 14th, 1945, General Eisenhower visited Bastonia to award decorations to soldiers who had defended the town. Among the recipients was Brigadier General McAuliffe, who received the Distinguished Service Cross.
Patton attended the ceremony, as did Bradley. Photographers captured the moment. Patton pinning medals on paratroopers, shaking hands with McAuliffe, inspecting the shattered town. After the ceremony, Bradley pulled Patton aside. Their conversation was private, but Patton recorded in his diary Bradley’s comments. Brad told me the Third Army’s response at Bastonia was the most brilliant operation of the war. He said historians would study it for generations. This was extraordinary praise from Bradley, who was not given to hyperbole. As 12th Army Group Commander, he had oversight of all American ground operations in Europe.
He had witnessed every major campaign from Normandy to the German border. For him to call Bastonia the most brilliant operation of the war reflected genuine professional admiration. Bradley’s public statements were more measured but equally complimentary. In press conferences, he emphasized Third Army’s achievement as demonstrating American soldiers capability for rapid response and sustained offensive operations in difficult conditions. He praised not just Patton but the entire Third Army commanders, staff officers, and especially the soldiers who had executed the operation under brutal conditions.
Years later, after the war ended, Bradley reflected more philosophically on Patton’s Bastonia relief. In his memoir, A soldier’s story, he wrote, “Patton’s finest hour perhaps, came in that brilliant response to the German breakthrough in the Bulge. He turned a whole army on a dime, drove it through terrible weather into desperate combat, and delivered precisely what he promised. The relationship between Bradley and Patton was complex, old friends, professional rivals, commanders with very different styles. Bradley was methodical, careful, diplomatic.
Patton was aggressive, impulsive, often tactless. But at Bastonia, Patton’s unique qualities produced results that vindicated Bradley’s decision to keep him in command despite repeated controversies. The 101st Airborne’s defense of Bastonia and Third Army’s relief operation became one of the war’s most celebrated episodes. It demonstrated American resilience, tactical flexibility, and the importance of aggressive leadership. For Bradley, it validated his faith in Patton’s combat effectiveness. For Patton, it was redemption after the slapping incidents and months in exile. For the soldiers of both forces, it was proof they could match and defeat Germany’s best troops in the hardest conditions.
