By the autumn of 1944, a grim reality had settled over the American tankers in Europe. The M4 Sherman, the reliable workhorse of the US Army, was being systematically outgunned. Facing German Panthers and Tigers, American GIs were gripped by “Panther Panic,” writing desperate letters home pleading for a tank that could give them a fighting chance.

The answer seemed to be the M26 Pershing, a 46-ton monster boasting thick sloped armor and a devastating 90 mm cannon. It was the tank the frontline troops had been praying for. Yet, when General George S. Patton Jr.—America’s most aggressive and successful tank commander—was asked about the new heavy tank, his response was shocking. He didn’t want it. In fact, he actively argued against halting Sherman production to build it.

The Tactical Terror: Sherman vs. Panther

To understand Patton’s logic, one must first understand the terror he was seemingly ignoring. The German Panther was a masterpiece of design. Its 80 mm of sloped frontal armor was virtually immune to the Sherman’s standard 75 mm gun. Conversely, the Panther’s high-velocity cannon could kill a Sherman from over a mile away.

The M4 Sherman earned the grim nickname “the Ronson” because, as the ad slogan went, “it lights up the first time, every time.” While post-war analysis by historians like Steven Zaloga suggests the Sherman’s burn rate was statistically similar to other tanks, its thin armor meant it was penetrated more often. In the open country of the Lorraine, American tankers felt they were in a death trap, often forced to sacrifice four or five Shermans just to flanking-maneuver a single Panther into a kill.

The General’s Doctrine: Mechanized Cavalry

Why did Patton resist the superior weapon? Because Patton was not fighting the same war as his tankers. Patton was the last of the great horse cavalrymen. His entire understanding of warfare was built on speed, exploitation, and relentless forward movement. He didn’t see tanks as lumbering fortresses meant to “slug it out”; he saw them as mechanized cavalry.

His famous doctrine was: “Hold them by the nose and kick them in the pants.”

This meant using infantry and artillery to fix the enemy in a brutal frontal fight (holding the nose) while armored divisions raced around the flank to destroy supply lines and command centers (kicking the pants). For this strategy to work, Patton needed a specific kind of tank. He needed a vehicle that was:

Fast enough to exploit a breakthrough.

Reliable enough not to break down 100 miles behind enemy lines.

Light enough to cross Europe’s aging bridges.

Numerous enough to sustain a war of attrition.

The Strategic Virtues of the Sherman

Patton’s preference for the Sherman was born of practical experience. He valued three core virtues above all else:

Reliability: The Sherman M4A3, with its Ford V8 engine, was a marvel of dependability. German tanks were over-engineered “thoroughbreds” that broke down constantly; a Panther’s final drive had a service life of less than 150 km. Patton knew that a Tiger with a broken transmission was just a pillbox, but a running Sherman could win the war.

Mobility: At 33 tons, the Sherman could cross the vast majority of European bridges. The 46-ton Pershing, by contrast, was too heavy for standard pontoon bridges, meaning every river crossing would become a slow, contested affair—the antithesis of Patton’s style.

Logistics: America produced nearly 50,000 Shermans. Patton understood the “calculus of the mostest.” He needed a system that could replace lost tanks immediately rather than waiting for a slow-to-produce heavy tank.

Tactical Tool vs. Strategic War-Winner
So, who was right? The answer is: both.

The individual tank crewman was fighting a tactical war of survival. For the one-on-one duel occurring 500 yards in front of his turret, the M26 Pershing was undeniably the superior tool. It gave him the armor and firepower to survive the day.

However, Patton was fighting an operational and strategic war. His map was the entirety of Western Europe. His job was to encircle and destroy entire armies. For that mission, a fast, reliable, and numerous tank was the superior tool, even if it was individually weaker.

Patton chose the workhorse that could sustain his blitzkrieg over the powerful thoroughbred that might have slowed it down. It was a commander’s choice—made not for the individual battle, but for the entire campaign.