Gen. George S. Patton ordered the arrest of more than 40 officers and enlisted men across the Third Army in February 1945 after uncovering a vast black market network that stole food, fuel, medicine and equipment meant for frontline troops and sold it to French civilians and German collaborators, according to military records and testimony from the investigation.
The πππππΉπΆπ erupted into the open on Feb. 14, 1945, when a medical convoy carrying 23 wounded American soldiers ran out of fuel 20 miles from a field hospital in eastern France. The ambulances sat in freezing temperatures for six hours while the wounded waited for fuel that should have been available.
Two soldiers died from complications that might have been prevented, including Sgt. Michael O’Brien of Boston, who had survived three gunshot wounds in combat only to die because the gasoline that should have powered his ambulance had been diverted to the black market.
That report reached Patton while he was planning the next phase of his advance into Germany. His aide delivered the incident report along with an investigation that logistics commanders had quietly buried. Patton read it twice, then summoned the Inspector General, the Provost Marshal, the Judge Advocate General’s office and the commander of every supply depot in the Third Army to his headquarters within two hours.
“I don’t care if they’re related to Eisenhower himself,” Patton told his chief of staff, according to accounts of the meeting. “We have American soldiers dying in foxholes while the men who are supposed to feed them are getting rich selling their rations to the highest bidder.”
When the depot commanders arrived, they found themselves facing not only Patton but a room filled with military police and legal officers. Patton asked a single question: whether any of them were aware of supply theft, black market sales or the diversion of materials meant for combat troops.
The room went silent. One colonel began to speak of “minor irregularities in accounting.” Patton cut him off and described the death of Sgt.
O’Brien and the hunger of Pvt. Danny Russo, a Brooklyn soldier who had not eaten a hot meal in four days because his rations had been sold to French civilians.
“His death is a minor irregularity,” Patton said of O’Brien. “His hunger is a minor irregularity.”
Patton then laid out the evidence: systematic theft of food, medicine, fuel, ammunition and equipment, testimony from enlisted men who had been silenced, and indications that some commanders in the room were either directly involved or had knowingly looked away.
Col. Peterson, who commanded a major supply depot near the German border, stood and cited his congressional connections. Patton moved around the table and stood inches from his face.
“Call them. Right now,” Patton said. “And when you get them on the phone, explain to them why Sergeant Michael O’Brien is dead because you sold the fuel that should have powered his ambulance.”
Patton offered the officers a single choice: cooperate fully and face court-martial, dishonorable discharge and prison, or obstruct the investigation and face charges of treason, which carried the death penalty in wartime. He gave them 24 hours.
The raids began at 3 a. m. , coordinated across dozens of locations.
Military police and Criminal Investigation Division agents seized records, inventories and financial documents. At Peterson’s depot alone, investigators found that more than 40 percent of incoming supplies had been systematically diverted through false inventory records and forged distribution receipts. Peterson held a Swiss bank account with deposits totaling more than $180,000 in 1945 dollars.
At a depot near Nancy, France, investigators discovered Maj. Richard Blackwell had built an organized criminal enterprise spanning three countries, with contacts among French black market dealers, corrupt local officials and German civilians. His quarters contained $30,000 in cash, jewelry, watches, fine wines and a ledger documenting 18 months of transactions, including sales of morphine, sulfa drugs and blood plasma.
A supply clerk, Cpl. Thomas Martinez, had tried to report the theft eight months earlier and was threatened with court-martial for making false accusations. He quietly documented everything in a notebook and handed it to investigators during the raids.
Patton promoted him to sergeant and assigned him to the Inspector General’s office.
“I watched them sell food while guys on the front line were starving,” Martinez told investigators. “I watched them laugh about it.”
Within 72 hours, more than 40 officers and enlisted men were in custody. The investigation ultimately implicated 43 officers and over 100 enlisted personnel, with stolen supplies valued at approximately $3. 8 million, equivalent to roughly $60 million today.
Patton ordered open courts-martial with full transcripts released to civilian newspapers. Before trial, he ordered every accused officer to serve one week of frontline combat duty in foxholes, eating the same rations and facing the same dangers as the troops they had stolen from.
Peterson lasted three days before breaking. On the third day, a private from Tennessee named Billy Cooper was shot through the shoulder during a German probe, and medics were low on morphine and bandages. Peterson told the sergeant sharing his foxhole, “I did this.”
“I know who you are, Colonel,” the sergeant replied. “We all know.”
Blackwell spent his week with a tank unit that ran out of fuel during a tactical withdrawal and had to abandon a tank. The tank commander radioed headquarters, “Lost tank number 37. No fuel for extraction,” then looked at Blackwell and added, “But I’m sure the fuel went somewhere important.”
The courts-martial began in early March 1945 in a former French municipal hall, with representatives from every combat unit in the Third Army ordered to observe. Peterson pleaded guilty, testified against a dozen other officers and was sentenced to 15 years hard labor. Blackwell was convicted on all charges and sentenced to 25 years, followed by six months of Graves Registration Duty recovering and burying American dead.
Lt. Col. Marcus Webb, who remained defiant, was convicted of theft, corruption and obstruction of justice and sentenced to 30 years.
His photograph was published in Stars and Stripes and newspapers across America.
Patton ordered approximately $1.2 million recovered from the network distributed directly to the families of soldiers killed or wounded in the Third Army, each receiving a check and a letter signed by Patton stating that justice had been served.
By the end of March 1945, the campaign had produced 43 convictions, hundreds of dishonorable discharges and a complete reorganization of the Third Army’s supply system. Black market activity in the operational area dropped by more than 90 percent, and supply shortages on the front lines virtually disappeared.
Military historians continue to debate whether Patton’s methods, including pre-trial frontline duty and the threat of treason charges, exceeded his authority. But veterans of the Third Army remembered the lesson differently: steal from American soldiers, and Patton would find you.