GREASY GRASS - Part One

I invite you to stand atop the rim of the Wolf Mountains in southern Montana while  36 year old Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer scans the western horizon.  Hidden to his eyes, 15 miles distant in the middle horizon (above) campfire smoke rises from Sioux and Cheyanne lodges in the valley of the Little Big Horn river.   His Indian scouts can see the smoke clearly, but Custer remains blind  to his fate.

It was about 6:00am local time, Monday, 25 June 1876. Finally, in frustration, the half Crow, half white scout Mitch Bouyar warns Custer (above),  "General, I have been with these Indians for 30 years, and this is the largest village I have ever heard of."  One of the Crow scouts, White Man Runs Him, had no doubts about the Indian numbers;  "There were camps and camps and camps," he said.

Resting below the ridge were the 650 officers and troopers, 36 scouts and civilians of the Seventh Regiment of the United States Cavalry.  Sergeant and cobbler, 25 year old Charles A. Windolph of "H" company remembered,  "None of us had much sleep for several days, so we were glad to lie down and grab a rest." The men had spent 18 of the last 24 hours in their saddles, pushing to catch up to what the army figured to be about 400 native American lodges.  Windolph added, "When daylight came...we made coffee, but the water was so alkaline we almost gagged on it."

A 21 year old private in "M" troop, William Clemons Slaper (above),  noted that the forced march the night before "had much to do with the worn condition of our horses...the grazing had been poor for several days, and...there was little, if any, grain for our horses..."

When Custer returned from The "Crow's Nest" he told his officers it was his intent to rest his men and horses for the day, while scouting out the Indian camp, and then on 26 June to launch his assault. But within minutes that plan changed.

A trio of troopers had been dispatched to recover a box of hardtack lost off a pack mule. In backtracking they stumbled upon a 10 year old Lakota Sioux boy named "Wicohan" (or "Deed" in English) exploring the rations (above). They shot the boy to silence him. He was the first human to die this day.  Two other Sioux teenagers, Brown Back and Drags the Rope,  managed to avoid the soldier's shots in their rush to give warning.

When told of this Custer decided the attack must be made before the Indians could escape.  As Sergeant Windolph (above) wrote, "It was around 8 o'clock when we got orders to saddle up. We marched about ten miles, when we were halted in a sort of ravine. We'd been told to make as little noise as possible and light no fires (and that) There'd been no bugle calls for a day or two." 

About noon they crested the divide on the ancient path used by Sioux and Cheyenne called the Lodge Pole Trail,  and followed a small stream into the valley of the Little Big Horn, The regiment was then  divided into three. Forty-one year old contentious Captain Frederick William Benteen (above) rode along the south bank of the creek, leading 125 men (companies D, H and K).  

On the north bank the front of the column was lead by 41 year old Major Marcus Reno (above),  in command of 140 men (companies A, G, and M). 

Custer followed on the north bank, with the main body of 225 men, divided into 2 battalions; 32 year old Captain George Yates (above) was in command of companies E and F.... 

...while 36 year old  Captain Myles Walter Keogh (above) lead Companies C, I and L. 

Bringing up the rear was 31 year old Captain Thomas Mower McDougal (above) leading company B, which guarded the 150 pack mules, carrying 15 days of hardtack rations and 50 rounds of additional ammo per soldier.  As added security, five men from each of the remaining 10 companies were assigned to guard the Pack Train.   

The river and presumably the Indian camp, were still hidden by bluffs along the Little Big Horn. So Custer ordered Benteen to angle his command to the left, to see if there were any hostiles to the south. Custer did not want to be surprised by an attack on his rear.  And within a few moments Benteen's 125 men disappeared into the rolling stirrup high dry brush. 

After a few hundred yards, looming up from the undulating terrain, appeared a single Sioux tepee. Inside lay the dead body of a man. To insult his spirit, the scouts promptly set the tent on fire, producing a column of grey smoke, which now marked the regiment's appearance and progress.

As the troopers cleared the penultimate line of bluffs the clear cool waters of the Little Big Horn river appeared in the distance (above).  Thirty year old Lieutenant William Winer Cooke, Custer's adjutant, now delivered new orders.  Reno was  told his men were to cross the river and advance upon the Indian village with "...as rapid a gait as I thought prudent and afterward to charge." Reno was assured he would be "...supported by the whole outfit."  After riding with the major for a few minutes, Cooke cheerfully bade Reno good luck and returned to Custer.  It was about 3:00pm, local time.  The hottest part of the day.

 Reno's horses were so tired and thirsty he had trouble keeping them moving across the stream, and there was a 10 minute delay reforming on the western, valley side. Already the soldiers could see dust rising around the Indian camp, indicating the "hostiles" had been alerted. 

As the battalion formed up again, 30 year old French born "A" company Sergeant Stanislas Roy,  saw Colonel Custer leading the main body across the bluffs east of the river, to the right.   He heard troopers around him shout,  "There goes Custer." German born 23 year old Private Henry Petring heard the shout as, "There goes Custer. He's up to something, for he's waving his hat!"  

After setting his men at a trot toward the village about 2 miles up the valley, Reno sent the 47 year old interpreter, Fredrick Francis Gerard, back to inform Custer (above) that the Indians were not running away, but were in fact coming out to fight.  Gerard then returned to Reno's command, which had covered about half the distance to the village. 

Reno began with his command in a column of fours, but then shifted to two companies in a line across the flats, their right flank close to the brush along the river bank and the third company in reserve. But as they continued the number of Indians visible increased. Reno said later, "I saw Indians passing...behind my left flank." When he glanced backward, Reno saw no sign of either Custer or his men, 

But 29 year old Irish born Private Dan Newell again saw Custer 2 miles away on the eastern bluffs high above the river (above), and shouted bitterly to his comrades, "There he goes! Look at him. And we here, a fighting"  Reno ordered "M" company, in reserve, to swing out to the left of his line. Now he had no reserves. 

The village they were approaching consisted of circles of tepees, called lodges, pitched close together in a season of plenty.  Each lodge was occupied by a family group.  Smaller wickiups sheltered 3 to 4 young bachelor warriors each. The southern circle, closest to Reno's assault, were the Hunkpaps Sioux band, then the Sans Arc, the Brule, the Minneconjou, the Santee and the Oglala bands - about 700 lodges in all. 

Just north were the Cheyenne circles, another 500 to 600 lodges - all told three times the number the army expected. Estimates today suggest the village was occupied by as many as six to seven thousand people, with a third of them boys and men of fighting age - perhaps as many as 2,000 warriors.

There had been rumors all morning of soldiers being seen over the Wolf Mountains, but, in the words of the Oglala warrior  Low Dog, "I did not think anyone would come to attack us, so strong as we were."  In fact, running on foot across the difficult terrain  Brown Back had delivered the warning of the approaching soldiers just moments after Reno crossed the river. 

According to the 29 year old respected Cheyenne warrior Low Dog (Ishaynishus in Cheyenne) (above) "We thought,  all we thought was to dance all day. I went to water my horse at the creek...and then took a swim myself. I came back to camp afoot. When I got near my lodge I looked up the Little Horn towards Sitting Bull's camp. I saw a great dust rising. It looked like a whirlwind. Soon Sioux horsemen came rushing into camp shouting, "Soldiers Come! Plenty white soldiers!" I ran into my lodge and said to my brother-in-law, "Get your horses; the white man is coming. Everybody run for horses." 

Panic and anger sent the population scrambling. Women and old men hurried to gather children and the elderly, rushing them up stream or to the cover of the river bank or the higher ground to the west. Some warriors ran back and forth, gathering weapons, putting on war paint, and raising dust to obscure the vulnerable village, while most ran a quarter mile to the west, to recover their ponies hobbled on a grassy terrace. 

About half a mile south of the first tepees, and with still no sign of Custer, Reno called the command to halt. He explained later that he believed if had continued to charge the village, all his men would "still be in the valley to this day". 

Private William Slaper noted "Our horses were scenting danger before we dismounted, and several...became unmanageable and started straight for the open among the Indians, carrying their helpless riders with them. One of the boys, a young fellow named Smith of Boston, we never saw again, either dead or alive." And the horse carrying 26 year old Private Henry James Turley from Troy, New York,  also bolted.   "M" company Sergeant John Ryan watched Turley disappear into the swirling dust cloud, adding, "That was the last I saw of him".  Ignoring those unlucky fellows, Reno order his command to dismount and form a skirmish line about 300 yards from the first tepees.   

As they had been trained, every fourth trooper took the reins from his three compatriot's horses and retreated thirty paces. The other three spread out to form a skirmish line, each man eight to twelve paces apart. That  reduced them to 105 guns, with 35 men holding the horses.  That produced a battle line from the trees westward about 200 feet - a city block - out into the valley with their left wing hanging loose.  Just before the troopers began their slow steady fire with their single shot "trap door carbines, 23 year old Irishman, Private John Donahue, usually serving in K troop, remembered seeing Custer's battle flags to his right. The skirmish line was intended to keep the enemy at a distance. And it had worked a decade earlier against Confederate Infantry.   

The range of 300 yards, plus the tendency of the soldiers to over shoot their targets, meant relatively few casualties were inflicted on either side. The woman Moving Robe said later "the bullets shattered the tepee poles".  But the thousands of rounds also killed two wives and three children of the Hunkpapa leader Gall (in Lakota, Phizo) (above). Standing just a few feet away, the 5 foot 7 inch tall barrel chested warrior was consumed by grief and anger. He sent one of his surviving sons to fetch his pony from the herd, grazing a quarter mile across the valley, while he prepared his "medicine".  A small fire was started to burn herbs, and Gall sang his prayers. He had decided that this day he would fight only with his hatchet, up close and aiming to inflict pain and mutilation before delivering death. 

Each trooper carried on himself and his horse 100 rounds for his Model 1873 "trap door" single shot carbine, and it was expected they would fire 12 to 15 rounds a minute. This meant the skirmish line could, at best, only be held for little more than 30 minutes. Second Lieutenant Luther R. Hare said that as soon as the skirmish line had formed, "400 to 500 Indians came out of a coulee...400 yards in front of us".  Reno had never fought plains Indians before, but the failure of this tactical formation was clear to him within 15 minutes.  

Second Lieutenant Charles C. DeRudio (above), a 45 year old  Italian born revolutionary gadfly, who escaped from Devil's Island after having attempted to murder French Emperor Napoleon III, made the obvious observation that, "I saw we would have been butchered if we had gone 500 yards further". 

Within those 15 minutes Reno's men had expended about half their ammunition, and yet  "I saw Indians passing...behind my left flank",  most of those still on foot. Clearly they were seeking to capture the trooper's horses   In response Reno ordered the horses holders to pull back into the tree line along the river. Then he ordered his skirmish line to also withdraw into the trees.

As the troopers reformed their skirmish line with their backs to the river, Sergeant John Ryan saw his friend, 26 year old Miles F. O'Hara (above), shot by Indians who were working their way through the bushes.   O'Hara had been promoted to sergeant just before the expedition left Fort Abraham Lincoln. 

Seeing this, Ryan warned his commander,  32 year old Captain Thomas Henry French (above) that there were "....Indians in our rear".  But the normally cool headed officer assured the sergeant "Oh, no. Those are Custer's men."  They were not.

Within half an hour, and certain now that Custer was not coming to help, Reno ordered his men to remount their horses. As the Major himself did so, the 36 year old Arikara (or Ree) scout Bloody Knife (above) rode up beside him. 

Bloody Knife's mother had been captured by a Hunkpapa warrior who fathered him. But the Sioux treated he and his mother as outcasts.  He was taunted and tortured by his fellow children, among them young Sitting Bull and Gall.  When he reached 16 summers Bloody Knife (above) and his mother returned to her family, but years later he came back for a visit and was almost killed by Gall.

Now Bloody Knife (above) leaned forward to say something to Reno when an errant shot exploded in the man's head, covering the Major's face and eyes with bits of the scout's brains, blood and skull. Stunned, Reno shouted the command to dismount, and did so. For a few minutes Reno was in a state of shock. When he had recovered enough he shouted again, "Mount up", and then, "Any of you men who want to make your escape, follow me!" 

"Just at that moment", remembered Sargeant Ryan, "one of those Indians fired and (24 year old) Private George (Gustave) Lorentz (above) was shot, the bullet striking him in the back of his neck and coming out his mouth. He fell forward on his saddle and dropped to the ground".  Ryan now admitted, "The best thing we can do is cut right through them."

Lieutenant Charles Albert Varnum (above), the 27 year old son of retired Union Major John Varnum,  and who was in charge of the 35 scouts attached to the 7th cavalry, remembered, "When we came out of the woods there were a great many Indians...working their Winchesters on the column".  

And with Indians now mounted and running alongside the soldiers, civilian interpreter, Gerard, noted, "The Indians picked off the soldiers at will. It was a rout..." 

                                        - 30 -