.
.

Patton on the Lipizzaner Horses 

I’m certain that I’ve done all this before:
I’ve hid old frescoes, ordered statues buried,
Helped salvage idols for some ancient nation,
Saved remnants of a lost civilization:
The works of Hannibal, crusader-lore,
Old icons that I rescued and then carried
To safety from the splendid hell of war.
.
Imagine that Fate steers you to some art,
The crown jewel of a treasured institution
To which a culture is forever linked—
And one wrong move can render it extinct.
As my G.I.s blast Hitler’s Reich apart,
Podhajsky dubs me Austria’s solution
To rescuing Vienna’s equine heart.
.
He begs for mercy from the Allied forces,
This trainer, this reluctant Nazi colonel
Who hopes to save equestrian traditions—
Four centuries, in fact, of exhibitions.
The Spanish Riding School which he endorses
Is world-renowned! Hell, every saddle journal
Salutes the famous Lipizzaner horses!
.
Astounding in their beauty, highly skilled,
They jump and glide, they dance, they march and prance…
I’m certain none are finer on this Earth.
And yet the Soviets can’t see their worth.
Those meat-starved Communists will have them killed.
Now I’m the Lipizzaners’ last best chance
To live, to have Podhajsky’s hopes fulfilled.
.
But war means pain! Traditions don a shroud.
Who gives a damn for Mozart and the Strausses?
Still, I’m an old equestrian at heart
Who thinks this training school breeds noble art—
A Habsburg gift which stirs the common crowd.
They starve but they’d give up their food and houses
To save these horses. Austrians are proud.
.
We have the stallions—it’s the mares and foals
Trapped on the wrong side of the Russian line.
Well, damn the pact. And don’t tell Eisenhower!
It’s my call now. We start this very hour.
American G.I.s with Czechs and Poles
Will stage a wrangling raid per my design
To save each horse and thwart the Russians’ goals.
.
We’ll herd them home with cowboys riding tanks,
A hundred miles or more as we are able.
Americans are steadfast in their duty
And proud to save this remnant of skilled beauty—
A living art which can’t be stored in banks.
We’ll guide these horses to Vienna’s stable;
And Austria, in ruins, will give thanks.
.
.

Poet’s Note: 

In April, 1945, as the Allied Forces liberated Europe and closed in on Berlin, Austria remained annexed to Nazi Germany. Austrian Col. Alois Podhajsky, a reluctant Nazi, was a former Olympian equestrian whom Berlin had placed in charge of Vienna’s famous Spanish Riding School and its Lipizzaner horses—purebred white show horses with centuries of Habsburg tradition.
.
As the Third Reich collapsed, Podhajsky, desperate to protect the Lipizzaners, sought out U.S. General George S. Patton, a noted horse enthusiast. Podhajsky and his team from the Spanish Riding School performed a precision dressage for Patton with their Lipizzaner stallions. Patton saw the value of the horses and arranged for the daring rescue of their mares and foals from under the Soviet administration of Czechoslovakia. Hundreds of the finest-bred horses in the world were herded between American tanks and other army vehicles with a team of outriders. This journey of more than 125 miles within two days was an organizational masterpiece. Operation Cowboy succeeded in rescuing over 1,200 horses, including the 215 Lipizzaners. Podhajsky’s efforts combined with those of General Patton and his subordinate, Colonel Charles Reed, ensured the survival of the Spanish Riding School in Vienna.
.
Colonel Reed realized the uniqueness of this story in times of war: “We were so tired of death and destruction, so we wanted to do something beautiful.”
.
.
.
.

Air on the G String

Beyond the Danube, tethered to the past,
The Zentralfriedhof beckons. Here reside
Vienna’s dead in parklands grand and vast.
The nameless rest near men of titled pride
Whose mausoleums, patently expensive,
Forever hail the powerful and pensive.
.
We try to find the Corner of Musicians
Where monuments of gold-leafed marble house
The great composers, the decompositions
Of Beethoven and Schubert, Brahms and Strauss.
We muse about the concerts they might play
As ghosts at midnight or on All Saints Day!
.
A twenty-something man sets up his cello—
A maestro who wears blue jeans that are ripped.
He plays Plaisir d’Amour. It’s strangely mellow
And deeply unexpected near a crypt.
Well, coins are sought in even hallowed places,
And people gather, pleasure in their faces.
.
We wander to a zone of dappled light
Where tourists seldom come. Here lichens hide
Old bullet holes and swastikas which blight
The gravestones of those lucky ones who died
Before the Anschluss stole their independence;
Before the SS murdered their descendants.
.
The stones bear names like Rosenberg and Meyer—
Graves derelict since 1945.
The grass is overrun by thorny briar
Defacing words and wounds none dare revive.
The decades pass but these remain ignored;
Cracked headstones never tended nor restored.
.
The cellist now plays Bach. His skill impresses
Those visitors who reverence the composers:
Air on the G String—music which caresses
The ones who seek out truth, but damns the posers
Who feign that all is well, who choose the fiction
That beauty drowns out heartless dereliction.
.
.
Zentralfriedhof: Central Cemetery
the Anschluss: Nazi Germany’s annexation of Austria on March 11-13, 1938
.
.
.
.
Brian Yapko is a retired lawyer whose poetry has appeared in over fifty journals.  He is the winner of the 2023 SCP International Poetry Competition. Brian is also the author of several short stories, the science fiction novel El Nuevo Mundo and the gothic archaeological novel  Bleeding Stone.  He lives in Wimauma, Florida.

NOTE TO READERS: If you enjoyed this poem or other content, please consider making a donation to the Society of Classical Poets.

The Society of Classical Poets does not endorse any views expressed in individual poems or commentary.


Trending now:

28 Responses

  1. Roy Eugene Peterson

    Brian, more great poems with historical meaning and pensive feeling! To say I am awed is an understatement. As one who spent considerable time in Austria on leave and vacations from my Russian Institute base in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, Germany, these poems remind me of outdoor evening Strauss Waltz concerts overlooking the Danube, walking past still bullet-riddled homes, and being thrilled by Lipizzaner white horses performing their fantastically beautiful acts. Thank you for the great poems and the memories.

    Reply
    • Roy Eugene Peterson

      You may be interested in this personal story. When I was assigned on temporary duty (known as TDY) with the US Military Liaison Team, I was approved to enter the Soviet zone of East Germany beyond the ten-block sector. That sector of ten blocks by ten blocks was a showplace beautifully restored by the Soviets and East German government where one could stay in East Berlin hotels and dine in exquisite German restaurants. As in your Austrian description, once outside of that controlled zone for tourists, the full impact of virtually every house having been riddled with bullets was a stark reality staring back at us.

      Reply
      • Brian A. Yapko

        Thank you for this additional comment, Roy. I can perfectly visualize what you are describing since I’ve been to Berlin a couple of times and stayed in the Gendarmenmarkt area which is in what was formerly East Berlin, not far from the Unter den Linden and the Brandenburg Gate. It’s very, very different now and I can only imagine what it was like before the Berlin Wall fell. I’m very intrigued by your experiences in a restored East Berlin of ten blocks and would love to hear more. And, by the way, back in Vienna there are still many buildings with bullet holes — a shocking thing to see so many years after the War.

    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you, Roy, for this amazing comment! I’m glad that I captured some memories for you here. I’ve been to Austria twice — Vienna and Salzburg — and find that Austria is one of my favorite countries in the world. The beautiful scenary and high quality art (especially music) contrasted with much painful history makes it a place of intriguing echoes and shadows, where “Amadeus” and “The Third Man” collide. Along with some of the best apple strudel and sacher torte in the world.

      Reply
  2. Daniel Kemper

    I don’t mean to pun annoyingly, but you are really finding your stride here. My favorite place (ug to pick just one!) is:

    “The gravestones of those lucky ones who died
    Before the Anschluss stole their independence;
    Before the SS murdered their descendants.”

    I like the confidence and freedom to make the aside with a deep echo and keep flowing with the narrative. That was really nicely played.

    BTW, did you know that Patton wrote poetry?

    Here’s one quick ref:
    https://allpoetry.com/General-George-S-Patton-Jnr

    Reply
  3. James Sale

    Great stuff Brian – the poem on Patton saving the horses was something of which I was totally unaware; it’s wonderful how you have ‘rescued’ this story and brought it into the light again, showing so clearly how heroes act. Very invigorating, very stirring!

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much indeed, James! When I learned of this story I simply had to write about it — especially since it came into my awareness right when so many protests and demonstrations were taking place which were trying to convince people how awful America and Americans are. Such an injustice. My reaction was to poetically spotlight something Americans had done that was good and noble.

      Reply
  4. Cheryl Corey

    I’ve always loved the Lippizzaners and the incredible movements that they’re capable of. I didn’t know about Patton’s involvement in one of several attempts to save the breed, so this is a fascinating poem.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you so much, Cheryl! I’m glad to have found a fellow Lipizzaner fan here! I, too, love them. I’m astonished at how intelligent and graceful they are. And, like you, never would have dreamed that General Patton of all people had a major role in ensuring their survival. History has so many stories to tell us. We poets can barely scratch the surface!

      Reply
  5. Joseph S. Salemi

    I believe the story of the rescue of the Lipizzaner horses was made into a Disney film many years ago, but I can’t recall its title. In warfare, it sometimes takes the aesthetic sense of one officer to save cultural beauty from destruction. Originally, the atomic bomb was supposed to be dropped on Kyoto, but one higher-up in command knew the irreplaceable beauty of that city, and dissuaded General Groves from making it a target.

    The sestets that make up “Air on the G String” are expertly crafted. It is a poem of historical memory, but of memory linked with the musical tradition of Vienna, and the deep sorrow that music cannot wipe out.

    I have one problem: the phrase “G string” today is — unfortunately — used as the name of a very skimpy undergarment to cover the genitals of strippers and pole dancers. Might this not conjure up an unwanted confusion in the minds of readers who are not musically trained?

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Joe, thank you for the kind words about the poetry! You have an amazing memory! A 1963 film entitled “Miracle of the White Stallions” starring Robert Taylor as Podhajsky and an actor I don’t know named John Larch as Patton. I saw this film early this year and was fascinated by a story I had never heard. So you have correctly identified the inspiration for this poem. I didn’t know the story about Kyoto and also find that incredibly evocative. The damage done to culture in World War II is incalculable, both in the Orient and in Europe. How many masterpieces were destroyed that we will never even be able to inventory?

      Joe, I’m more tickled than troubled by your concern about The Air on the G String title. It’s a haunting melody that I actually heard played by a street musician in Vienna and have never forgotten. I could have chosen a different piece of music but that would impair the memory. Since reading of your concern I’ve considered retitling to “Bach’s Air on the G String” but the poem is not about Bach plus the blueness of “Bach’s” homonym (box) could actually exacerbate an unintended double entendre. Then I considered “On Hearing Bach’s Air in Vienna’s Central Cemetery” but that felt too cumbersome. So thank you for bringing up the potential misreading of my poem’s title, but I think I’m going to risk leaving it as is with the knowledge that there may be a disappointed someone out there who may have come to the poem hoping for a more prurient poetic subject! Primacy here matters. Bach’s Air is a reasoably well-known piece and was titled long before the secondary meaning was coined. At least that’s my thinking.

      Reply
  6. Margaret Coats

    “Begin, thou unforgetting Clio, for all the ages are in thy keeping, and all the storied annals of the past.” From Statius to the muse of history–to whom you, Brian, pay devout tribute with these poems.

    One celebrates a military hero for deftly directing a most unusual operation to rescue a cultural institution. The feat was all the more difficult because he had to disregard an allied pact–but you show how foolish it would have been to observe it, with Lipizzan horses becoming horsemeat for Soviet troops, and probably for war-worn hungry Germans as well. Twelve hundred horses gathered by tanks and American cowboy outriders deserve the generic group name “herd.” There was probably no time to sort out the most desirable animals before they were all stampeded to safety. Brilliant strategy.

    I’m sure you will have answered Joe Salemi’s little problem with the G-string before I give my reflection. “Air on a G-string” is someone else’s arrangement of a Bach movement, with a considerable portion of the original softened or muted in order for a principal violinist to play on the lowest violin string, which can’t play very loud in any case (the violin being “soprano of the strings”). Your selection of this as music played at the untended crypt of Jewish burials corresponds to the neglect of these graves once held in higher honor. The G-string as minimal clothing for vulgar performers, however, also plays well here to suggest disrespect. As Joe remarks, persons unfamiliar with music may guffaw at something that seems to deserve no respect. This happened a few years ago at an elaborate wedding where I was singing. The bride’s family had hired a violin-cello duo to give a short classical concert while guests were arriving, and then to accompany the organ during the service. The duo had printed a program card that included the G-string piece. The church wedding coordinator objected–as she is supposed to do, because purely secular music, and especially anything with lewd connotations, is not allowed at church functions. But the pastor had agreed to classical music before the nuptial Mass, and with the name of Bach, the show went on. Bowed strings are allowed, but if “G-string” had meant plucked “guitar strings,” the performers would have been asked to play outdoors.

    Oh, about the imagined concert of the ghost composers in the Musicians’ Corner, they might prefer to appear on All Souls’ Day, to ask for the prayers of the living. That’s what good ghosts on their way to heaven usually want in literature.

    A swashbuckling and sobering pair of history pieces, Brian.!

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you very much indeed, Margaret, for this detailed comment. I write now as Hurricane Debby continues to pound rain and there is extensive flooding throughout the region. Fortunately, here in Tampa Bay we are spared the worst of the winds. But it’s one of those events which remind me of why I write. It is indeed to bear witness and I’m sure a poem will result sooner or later. Bearing witness means not only what I see and hear but also what I discover whether in the history books or through inspiration from other people There are stories worth remembering. And so yes, I do indeed love history and to pay tribute to the Muse is important to me. There are so many historical incidents which reveal aspects of our shared humanity – some of which are inspiring, some of which carry important lessons. I do not think we can ever run out of subjects to breathe into poetry and to then share in contemplation with willing readers.

      As you note, Patton’s brilliant strategy – and unexpectedly generous heart – in the case of the Lipizzaner horses is something worth remembering. And in doing so, we are drawn again to the very nature of art and what is and is not worth preserving. I know you have regard for my Amber Room poem from a couple of years back, but this is a very different type of art – it’s intangible and what are our responsibilities to ensure that such intangible art be allowed to survive? I consider this a question well worth contemplating – especially when we now live in an era where so many anarchists are “jumping at the bit” so to speak to burn it all down. I believe we have a responsibility to push back at the desire to cancel our history. And especially the history that is NOT preserved in physical objects. As mentioned in the poem, things that even a bank vault can’t save should a bomb strike.

      I have indeed answered Joe Salemi’s point regarding the g-string. I should mention that this is one part of the poem that is truly autobiographical since we did indeed encounter a street musician playing “Air on the G-String” – titled as such for that was what was written on his music. And it was an absolutely haunting experience. That was what actually inspired the poem in the first place and so I could not bring myself to change it. I think the risk of a lewd interpretation must be borne, just the way many words written innocently enough back in the day have taken on new connotations. At what point is the poet to bend to them? Another interesting question. The word “gay” and its historic rather than current sociological meaning comes to mind. But I hear the Ode to Joy and, even after having performed Beethoven’s Ninth twice, still can’t get an image of Sigmund Freud out of my head. Many words in Gilbert & Sullivan have changed meaning and I remember hearing snickers in the audience in high school when The Mikado’s “Tit-Willow” was sung. Such is the nature of language – it changes meaning, it develops connotations over time and something as innocent as “St. Audrey’s lace” eventually becomes “tawdry.”

      Thanks also for the All Souls versus All Saints. I like your suggestion but not enough to change the poem for it. I have no personal preference but did research holidays in Austria and noted that it is All Saints Day that is actually recognized as a public holiday. (Imagine!) That’s what helped me make the choice. And maybe a small tribute to Charles I who was the last Habsburg Emperor of Austria-Hungary and who was recently beatified. In Vienna, Habsburg influence is so ubiquitous it is never far from one’s mind.

      Reply
    • Margaret Coats

      A few notes, Brian, on some things you mention. The most important is the question of intangible culture, especially when it survives as living beings like the Lipizzaner horses. You may know of the Living National Treasures in Japan, who are individuals or groups practicing an important art. They are either performing artists (theatre and dance) or craftsmen (potters, makers of paper or lacquerware, weavers, and such). They are recognized by the Ministry of Culture, and receive a subsidy to help with the expenses of carrying on their work and conveying it to the next generation. The number is limited. It’s also interesting that some arts do not have Living National Treasures, probably because they are thought to be in no danger of disappearing, and receive enough support from the public or in membership associations. These include painters, musicians, writers, and practitioners of tea and ikebana and martial arts. So there is some consideration given to current strength and popularity of art forms. In recent times, the selection and support of Living National Treasures is a government function, but something similar was done in the past for imperial artists at court.

      Just thinking about horses, there is a special art of riding trained native horses while wearing court or warrior costume. I have seen demonstrations of this in Kyoto, and heard of it elsewhere in Japan. The horses are said to differ from those anywhere else in the world, so they may already be under some kind of protection or in a breeding program.

      About language change, it is frequently fostered and directed for sociopolitical purposes, and can fall by the wayside when the society changes. Here I think especially of Mussolini’s dislike of honorifics because he thought these words of feminine gender made Italian talk and character less manly. They were out of favor during his time, but came back afterward, then fell out of use again in recent, less formal times. The current chaos of pronouns and words prohibited as derogatory seems similar. I feel that there is in fact a kind of “deep structure” in language that works against sociopolitical prescriptions, to maintain or restore meaning and usage. Thus I have done something (but can’t remember where in my works!) to bring back gaiety.

      Of course All Saints is a national holiday in Austria, and in some other Catholic countries. No surprise. It’s a holyday of obligation when the faithful are required to attend Mass worldwide, though too many commit the mortal sin of missing Mass without a good reason, and too many cultural revolutionary tradition smashers keep trying to get the obligation rescinded. But even that can fail in surprising ways. Pentecost Monday was once a holyday of obligation, but not anymore, though it remains a national holiday in France where Mass attendance is low even on Sunday, because the people will NOT give up their long weekend, and legislators who try to abolish it tend to lose votes. A deep structure of celebration even if not of devotion!

      Reply
      • Brian A. Yapko

        Thank you, Margaret, for a magnificent comment on a most significant subject — intangible art. Specifically, how such art is protected in Japan under their Living National Treasures program. There are so many things that the Japanese get right and, from your description, this is one of them!

        Thanks also for your additional comments on the linguistic subjects described. I fully agree with your comments on current trends and am intrigued by your “deep structure” theory. Certainly I know there are words which are preserved through different languages and this is a most interesting thing to trace historically (and with reconstruction) from Indo-European through the modern languages of Europe.

        Also, thank you for clarifying on the common practice of public observance of All Saints Day in Catholic countries. It never occurred to me that this might be so and I find it quite heartening.

  7. Monika Cooper

    Ah, what a wartime fairy tale, about the Lipizzaners. Thank you for the enchantment.

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      A “wartime fairytale!” What a lovely way of describing this amazing and true historical tale. Thank you, Monika!

      Reply
  8. Susan Jarvis Bryant

    Brian, these two beautifully written pieces have a way of tapping into the senses and emotions with an air of immediacy that brings monumental events in history to life. I can see the Lipizzaner horses as they “They jump and glide, they dance, they march and prance…”, I can feel the beat of “Vienna’s equine heart”. I can hear the cellist’s music “music which caresses /The ones who seek out truth but damns the posers /Who feign that all is well, who choose the fiction /That beauty drowns out heartless dereliction.” What a grave message and memorable close to “Air on the G String”.

    For me, these poems highlight the magnificence of our Western culture and the importance of preserving it in a world where those governing appear to take great delight in erasing our history. Your heartfelt and beautiful poems remind us why we should do all we can to preserve our heritage. Brian, thank you very much indeed!

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      I’m always so pleased, Susan, when my poetry touches you in some way. I’m especially glad you brought up the magnificence of Western culture. I wanted to highlight how fragile it is. As Patton notes, one wrong move can render it extinct. It is so important for us to save what we can knowing that there are malign forces out there that would like to see European culture erased.

      Reply
  9. Yael

    Both poems are very enjoyable and educational. I’m a horse lover but I never knew that Patton saved the Lippizaner of Vienna, so I learned something new there. As an amateur fiddle/violin player I’m aware of the Aire on the G-string of course, but I didn’t know that it might be considered lewd, so I’ve learned another thing. Thank you!

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you so much, Yael. I didn’t know you play violin! Maybe some time you can share some of your music with us! It’s funny how something as innocuous as a G-string could take on a lewd connotation. There must be an interesting etymological story there.

      Reply
      • Brian A. Yapko

        Thank you so much, Mike, both for the appreciation and for the fascinating theories on how the stripper apparel came to be known as a G-string. It seems logical to me that it would have a musical derivation — a violin string — which then was mockingly borrowed by musical performers in the world of burlesque. This is one of those cases where there may never be a definitive answer.

  10. Joshua C. Frank

    Wow… just, wow. All the obscure history, all the rhymes, and it all fits together so well. I’m fairly well-read, and I’ve never heard of the Lipizzanner horses, at least not until now. What a fascinating story, risking his life to save something beautiful in enemy territory!

    Incidentally, the part about thwarting the Russians’ goals reminds me: I’ve read that Patton saw the Communists as a greater threat to the world than the Axis and felt the Allies should go after Russia first for that reason. Of course, if he had, the Nazis might have developed the bomb first…

    I wouldn’t worry about the title of “Air on the G String.” Anyone who knows Bach knows what you mean, and anyone who doesn’t know Bach needs to listen to his music. Since I love classical music, I can really appreciate the poem!

    Reply
    • Brian A. Yapko

      Thank you so much, Josh, for this enthusiasticc comment! I was similarly taken by the story of Patton and the horses. I had heard of the horses but I realize that it’s a sort of niche interest. I’m sure you’re right about Patton. He wanted to keep going after the Soviets but they were our allies at the time fighting Germany so that was a no-deal for Truman and Eisenhower. If Patton had had his way it might have saved us a lot of grief in the long run.

      Reply
  11. Priscilla King

    I remember reading about the horses, even going to see them perform when I was nine years old. Everyone should only get to see eight white horses dancing a quadrille! It’s nice to see that part of history commemorated in a poem.

    Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.