Into the Valley of the Shadow of Death ~ Part 3 ~ Little Bighorn River ~ June 2010

So, on Thursday afternoon we saddle up for the first time with the US Cavalry School and ride with them on the battle rehearsal. I discuss this the night before with Keith Herrin and John Doran who are in charge of this whole event and are responsible for the show and re-enactment.   Now keep in mind they don’t know us, and I’m sure are skeptical as to our ability.  Many Cavalry companies have come through here before and claimed as I did that

” we know what the hell were doing”.  They tell me what to expect, and I just nod my head and ask them ” tell me what time, and where and we’ll be there”.   So, as I form up our company by our picket line,  we go the parade ground about 5 minutes early.  We trot up, left into line, dress our line in full uniform and wait.  Some riders and horses show up piecemeal, and hang around.  Finally Keith and John show up, Nobody’s in uniform but us, cause that’s the way we roll.  It  was my call.  Keith says, ” I guess you didn’t get the memo.”  I said.  ” No, it’s OK we always ride in uniform anyway.”  And then the rehearsal starts, Cross the river, run like hell to the far side of the other ford, wait, discussion, cross the river, do the Fettermen massacre,, cross the other ford, and were supposed to jump over this log as were retreating.  No problem, all of our horses are trained and reliable.  We’ve now separated the ” Rough Riders” from the lighter riders so all of us who are fully engaged in this can ride and ride hard at all speeds.

We finish off the rehearsal and feel pretty good about this.  It’s apparent here that the leader of this John Doran is pretty intense, understandable really as it’s his rump on the line to put on a good show, and he’s damn well going to do it, we dial in and just know we’ll be a great part of this for them. So were done and will be fine for tomorrow’s parade and first Battle on Friday.

Prior to the rehearsal, we have some time  and get in the trucks to go to Last stand hill and the 7th Cavalry Cemetary which is only a short distance away. And as we get out of the trucks and walk to the gravestones, a quiet hush kind of permeates the air.  Headstones, tons of em.  There are more buried here than the 270 or so who died that fateful day, relatives and other Military men and women who are from Montana and have served are also interned here as well, as well as their children.  But as we walk and read, it’s apparent that this is a very special  place.      Many unknown graves are scattered throughout the cemetery. The men who could not be identified at all. And looking at those made me wonder about their families, who never got confirmation regarding their deaths.  Thier husbands, sons just NEVER came home. And they went to their deaths wondering what the hell happened to them.  Very sad.

And as we finished at the cemetery, and looked up towards Last Stand Hill, you could see the trail of headstones leading up from the river, scattered ones, twos, then a larger bunch, where during the retreat from the river, Troopers had been overrun and killed as they tried to get away from the overwhelming numbers of Lakota Warriors.  Small bunches of stones showed where some of them had formed a circle and fired outward trying to save their lives.  Others, just two, many twos.  And after discussion we figured out that they must have had a buddy system of one loading and the other firing, and then they went down together.  Amazing.  I wonder what goes through a mans mind as knows he’s minutes away from death?  How terrifying that MUST be.  I wonder how many saved their last bullets for themselves, and how many went down fighting for their very lives?  How would I act under similar circumstances? I know how I’d like to believe I’d act.  But one never really knows… huh? If we’d be cowards and run for our very lives or stand and fight for our friends and our own lives?  One really never knows.

So as we head up to Last Stand Hill, and the high ground that Custer and his company hoped would give them the good ground in which to defend, we stop and look at the headstones of the men who went down with him.  Custer is in the center surrounded by those who’d hoped to defend the General.

With him is his two brothers, Boston And Tom. Boston was his older brother, a civilian who came on this trip as sort of a ….vacation with his son.  George Armstrong Custer’s nephew.  Who was also killed on this hill, with his father, and uncles.  Another relative who died that day was Lt. Calhoun.  Husband of Custer’s sister.  A very bad day for the Custer family indeed.   After viewing the headstones on Last Stand hill, we were able to see the larger monument with all of the names of the killed that day, one of our members, Al Farrand mentioned he has a relative. James Farrand that was killed in this battle and as I went over the names, by god there he was. ( see picture on the right.)  

We got some pretty interesting looks from people who didn’t really expect to see uniformed Cavalry people there.  Pictures and questions came and went.  It was a great couple of hours to spend, some downtime before the big shows on Friday, Sat and Sunday.

Spending this quality time with such good friends was starting to make this a trip for the ages, and we hadn’t even rode in a single show yet.  But I knew as did everyone else, that this was a special time to be enjoyed by all. We all realized we were in a very special place.  A place that changed history over 134 years ago.

                                       

I’m headed off to a week long trip sailing the San Juan Islands tomorrow, when I return on Weds. July 14th, I’ll post my final thoughts on the actual battles with the Natives, and our interaction with the Indian Braves.

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