The Last Days of George Armstrong Custer (36 page)

Sioux chief Gall mentioned that he witnessed soldiers throwing away their long guns in favor of their short guns. There is the likelihood that those men had simply run out of ammunition for their carbines. Each cavalryman carried only fifty .45/55 cartridges in his cartridge belt. Fifty additional rounds were located in his saddlebags, which would have been lost when the Indians stampeded the horses. Fifty rounds fired in the frantic heat of battle could be expended in a very short period of time. The Colt revolvers, for which they carried twenty rounds, may have been more effective at short range, but, again, twenty rounds would not last long.

Custer had dispatched an urgent message to Captain Benteen that emphasized bringing up the ammunition packs in a hurry. Benteen dawdled along the trail, never arriving to assist Custer. There is a distinct possibility that rather than blame any malfunction of the carbine on the defeat, the more logical explanation would be that the cavalrymen simply ran out of ammunition and were overwhelmed by their enemy.

Perhaps that also explains why Custer's command was strung out along Battle Ridge rather than formed in a tight defensive position. The companies to the south, led by First Lieutenant James Calhoun, may have been sent to escort Benteen and the ammunition—or even to locate the pack train themselves—and return with ammo but were stopped in their tracks at that point by an overwhelming number of warriors.

If the numbers of damaged cartridge casings posed by the archaeological digs are representative, and there is no reason to believe otherwise, it would appear that malfunction of the carbine from that source was quite minimal and could not be considered a factor in the defeat. Ammo not arriving in time along with reinforcements could certainly be considered a more relevant factor.

The question has been debated about whether the Indians were better armed than the cavalrymen. There can be no question that the cavalry was outgunned by the Indians that day—and not necessarily due to better firearms but simply by sheer numbers.

Customary Indian tactics called for them to remain a safe distance away—hidden by tall grass, bushes, and terrain features—while they fired an endless stream of arcing arrows at the pinned-down cavalrymen. Add to that arrow barrage the firearms, and the all-important fire superiority certainly favored the Indians in a battle of attrition.

There can also be no doubt that the modern repeaters made quite a difference. General George Crook, in a September 25, 1876, report, stated: “Of the difficulties with which we have had to contend, it may be well to remark, that when the Sioux Indian was armed with a bow and arrow he was more formidable, fighting as he does most of the time on horseback, than when he got the old fashioned muzzle loading rifle. But when he came into possession of the breech loader and metallic cartridge, which allows him to load and fire from his horse with perfect ease, he became at once ten thousand times more formidable.”

Some military tacticians who may not be familiar with the rugged terrain leading to the battlefield have suggested that Gatling guns would have provided Custer the firepower necessary to defeat the overwhelming number of Indians that he faced. In fact, Custer had been offered the use of three Gatling guns by General Alfred H. Terry. Custer at first accepted the offer and then about an hour later changed his mind, deciding that the guns would impede his march.

Surely, the formidable firepower that those guns, which were invented in 1861, could have brought into play would have been devastating to any enemy. The Gatling gun, forerunner of the machine gun, worked on the principle of having a soldier turn a crank that fed ammunition from a hopper into either six or ten barrels and could fire up to 350 rounds per minute.

The downside of these guns' operation was that they had not been modified much since their invention and were known to frequently malfunction—often jamming due to residue from black powder or overheating. Also, they were designed to repel a massed attack of the enemy, such as was customary in European warfare, whereas the Indians would not have marched into the line of fire in the tradition of Redcoats. Another disadvantage was that the guns were mounted on large wheels, which meant that during operation the gun crew would be standing upright and this would make them sitting ducks to Indian snipers.

But perhaps the most negative aspect of Gatlings in turning the tide of a battle such as the Little Bighorn was the difficulty in simply getting them to the battlefield. The guns were drawn by four horses, and each obstacle would have required unhitching the horses in favor of manpower to maneuver the guns to an agreeable location, then re-hitching the horses in order to continue. Taking into consideration the difficult terrain on Custer's march, the guns would have greatly impeded his progress.

This fact can be evidenced by Terry's own battery—the one he had offered to Custer. Gibbon's Twentieth Infantry was in charge of the guns and was unable to keep up with the column.

In his defense, General Nelson Miles wrote to General William T. Sherman on July 8, 1876, that Gatlings “are worthless for Indian fighting.”

There are also scholars who suggest that Custer would have fared better had he taken the Gatling guns—but not necessarily on account of their firepower. The guns would have delayed Custer's march to the extent that he would have rendezvoused with the Terry-Gibbon column and unified their commands to attack the village.

To be fair, for the disadvantages outlined earlier Custer was justified in his decision to refuse the Gatling guns.

Apparently Custer had discussed artillery with scout Fred Girard prior to the march. Girard was of the opinion that the Indians would not charge the Gatlings or simply stand around getting picked off. The scout told Custer that a twelve-pounder cannon would be a much better choice of artillery. They could destroy a village in quick order by lobbing shells from a mile away.

That theory had already been proven by Colonel Kit Carson in early November 1864 at Adobe Walls, Texas. Carson had commanded fewer men than Custer and faced more Indians—in fact, more than anyone ever had or would on the plains—and was able to destroy a large Kiowa-Comanche village and extricate himself from being surrounded by several thousand warriors because of the two twelve-pounder mountain howitzers that he had brought along. Otherwise, Carson assuredly would have suffered Custer's fate.

Still, it was not Custer's custom to allow anything to delay his march to the objective. And, in this case, the village would have been packed and gone before he could have fired even one volley.

Thirty-seven years after the Little Bighorn battle an Arikara scout named Red Star through an interpreter stated that George Armstrong Custer told his Ree scouts before departing from Fort Lincoln in May 1876 that a victory against the Sioux would make him the “Great Father” in Washington.

Most famously, author Mari Sandoz used Red Star's statement to outline her idea of Custer's plan to gain the nomination of the Democratic Party, which was meeting in St. Louis June 27–29.

The theory was that Charley Reynolds would duplicate his Black Hills dash to a telegraph office and relay the news of the victory over the Sioux to the floor of the convention, where Custer's supporters would push for his nomination. This ambition would explain the motivation behind Custer's hasty attack.

This account, however, has led some to assume that Custer intended to use the Little Bighorn campaign as a launching pad into the presidency of the United States—perhaps to the extent that he would become reckless in his zeal to erase Grant's insult over the Belknap Scandal and to occupy the office that Grant presently held.

There is no question that at some future date Custer would have made an attractive candidate to the Democratic Party for which he had performed admirable service over the years. Military commanders traditionally were mentioned as qualified contenders for the presidency after winning a major war. And had Custer defeated the Sioux on June 25, 1876, his already high popularity with the public would have soared to presidential heights.

It is doubtful, however, that Custer at that point in his career even remotely dreamed of the presidency. In fact, it is absurd to believe, given his prior embarrassing dabblings in politics, that he thought himself suited as a politician rather than a soldier.

In 1866, he had accompanied President Andrew Johnson on his “Swing Around the Circle,” a tour around the country designed to win support for the president's Southern policy. Custer was mercilessly attacked in the North for mingling with Southern traitors, which compelled him to abandon the tour before its end to escape protesters and adverse publicity. Repercussions from his testimony at the Belknap hearings had served to further convince him that he presently lacked adequate political skills for national office.

Another problem would be the timing. Word of a victory over the Sioux—much less Custer in person—could not have reached the convention in St. Louis in time to make any impact on the party's nominee, regardless of whether Charley Reynolds had killed several horses in an effort to reach a telegraph.

If Custer had indeed in early 1876 tendered presidential aspirations the perfect platform for a run had been presented to him. He had been offered a contract by the Redpath Lyceum Bureau, a Boston talent agency, that called for him to make a speech five nights a week for four to five months at an astounding two hundred dollars per lecture. Not only could he have earned more than ten times his annual army salary in that short period, but he also could have placed his carefully constructed views, thrilling war stories, and considerable charm before an already-adoring nationwide audience. Although it had been suggested that the tour would begin in the spring, had Custer been setting sights on the presidency that year he could have pushed up the date to suit his ambitions. He almost certainly could have received a leave of absence and not participated in the Little Bighorn Campaign in order to fulfill the schedule of speaking engagements.

The lecture tour could have concluded with Custer's triumphant entrance at the Democratic Party convention. By that time he would have gained the admiration and confidence of the public and, that combined with his influential party benefactors, his friendship with a number of leading congressmen, his association with New York newspapers, and the fact that he had exposed fraud in the Grant administration and been punished for his actions, perhaps could have resulted in the nomination. But Custer had turned down this lucrative opportunity to gain publicity for himself in order to remain with the army on active duty.

That appealing scenario of lecturing to help gain the nomination, however, may have been in the back of his mind for the distant future. The lecture tour certainly would have been available as a reward after Little Bighorn and beyond. He certainly had tales to tell—and without a doubt wanted to collect more adventures before he was put out to pasture by the army.

He was only thirty-six years old, much too young to seriously consider the staid chief executive position, an old man's job. And another relevant consideration: it would be doubtful that this man of good humor and sensitivity who craved constant activity could picture himself mired down in the daily partisan bickering and boring policy meetings inherent to that high office. Perhaps when he was older he may have entertained a run, but not in 1876 when the West promised excitement for years to come.

If Custer truly had made any statement of that nature to his Arikara scouts before Little Bighorn it was probably little more than playful banter, an indication of the importance that a victory against the Sioux would be for his career. More than likely Custer was envisioning for himself the reward of a brigadier general's star, an appointment made by the president when a vacancy occurred—regardless of seniority—to a worthy recipient. And a victory over Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse would certainly make George Armstrong Custer worthy of promotion. But Custer failed to attain that victory.

This reason for the defeat remains behind an insidious smoke screen to blame the scapegoat who could not defend himself.

Each of these issues has been presented over the years as a reason for Custer's defeat, with most of them pointing the finger of blame at Custer for his personal actions. There can be found, however, the real reason for the defeat—and one must only look to the source of the conspiracy theories for the answers: the military cover-up.

 

Eighteen

What Really Happened?

Contrary to the assumption of many, if not most, modern scholars who believe that George Armstrong Custer's plan of attack was hastily devised, reckless, and destined to fail, his battle plan was in fact well thought out and logical and could have—should have—succeeded. He did not blunder whatsoever but designed a plan with the potential to be as effective as any in his career.

But how do we know what he intended when apparently no one who survived the fight was told the specific details? It does not take a military genius to understand exactly how Custer envisioned the unfolding of his plan. Plenty of evidence exists to support a strategy that was nothing less than brilliant, especially given the terrain.

According to Custer's battle plan, Reno's charge into the village would have caused the Indians to flee blindly into the hands of Custer's command, which had ridden to the east and north. It would then have been a matter of securing the village and deploying a tight perimeter to guard against a counterattack from those who had slipped through the seams, while details of other troopers chased down the stragglers.

By that time, Benteen and his battalion, along with the pack train of ammunition and an additional eighty-five men, would have arrived as reinforcements—as ordered by Custer. Captured Indian women and children would have been held as hostages with which to bargain and assure that a counterattack in force would not be forthcoming for fear of the captives being in harm's way. A systematic destruction of the village, its valuable contents, and the huge pony herd would then have taken place. Messengers would have been dispatched to hurry the Terry-Gibbon column to the scene. Even if Custer had become surrounded by survivors of the attack, he had enough firepower within the village proper to maintain his position until Terry and reinforcements arrived.