Ernest Hemingway Becomes a Problem for General Patton: France, 1944

“Good morning, General.”

” God they were tough bastards. Morning, Paul. Help yourself to coffee. Any news of Leclerc?”

Harkins poured himself a cup of the strong French coffee.

” No, sir, although the latest intelligence suggests he is very close to Rambouillet and preparing to advance along the Versailles road into Paris, but no indication of a time scale I’m afraid.”

” Well find out, Paul, I want Leclerc in Paris by tomorrow at the latest. When you find him remind him he’s attached to the Third, the fastest goddam army in the world. Tell him that, Paul, from me.”

“It will be a pleasure, sir.”

“What’s the origin of the intelligence?”

” A Colonel Bruce of the O.S.S., with, it would seem, a little help from Ernest Hemingway.”

” Hemingway, the novelist? What the hell is he doing with the O.S.S.? I thought he was assigned to the Third as a correspondent?”

” Not clear, sir. There are some strange stories, and I’m afraid, some complaints filtering in about Mr Hemingway; I think we’ll have to keep an eye on him, I feel there might be trouble brewing.”

” Damn fine writer. Ever read A Farewell to Arms, Paul?”

” No, sir.”

” Some fine descriptions of battle and men under fire. Could only have been written by a man who’s experienced it. What sort of complaints?”

” Well the latest is from a journalist who witnessed a fight between Hemingway and Bruce Grant, a reporter from Chicago, in the dining room of their hotel two nights ago, who also states that he saw Hemingway wearing side arms in, and I quote, ‘ blatant contravention of the Geneva Convention.’ There have been several similar complaints of Hemingway wearing and actually storing arms in his hotel rooms, plus a report that he was involved in a grenade incident on the 3rd in Villedieu-les-Poles, while attached to Lanham’s 22nd Infantry, and, perhaps most alarmingly, that he has created something of a private army made up of French irregulars, two AWOL American airborne troopers, who are now officially attached to the O.S.S., and a driver, one Archie Pelkey, assigned to Hemingway by Tubby Barton of all people.”

“Shit.”

” Colonel Bruce’s report states that Hemingway has been of enormous help in the gathering of information, and continues to be so.”

” Paul, I’ve got officers in this army who need pushing every inch of the goddam way, yet that son-of-a-bitch of a novelist has the nerve, the brass balls, to create his own damned army. Is there anyway I can make it official?”

” I fear not, sir, not at this late stage. You would, I’m afraid, put yourself in an awkward position.”

” What do you suggest?”

” We hand over the complaints to Clarence Park, let him assess them and get back to us.”

” Do it, Paul. And find Leclerc. Oh, and ask John to run my bath would you?”

” Sir.”

As his deputy Chief of Staff left the room Patton closed his book, got out of bed and moved to the window. It was going to be another hot, fine day, he thought, a good fighting day and here he was waiting for some damn French General to find his way into Paris, with intelligence reports courtesy of an American novelist. What the hell was the American military coming to.

” Damn you, Leclerc, and damn you, Ernest Hemingway.”