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A Battlefield That's No Longer Just About Custer
Monday, August 27, 2007
By Robert K. Elder, Chicago Tribune
CROW AGENCY, Mont. -- In 1876, all was not quiet on the Western frontier.
After the Civil War, thousands of Native Americans started leaving reservations and forming strategic alliances. It didn't take long to turn bloody. A series of conflicts reached fever pitch and led to the "Indian Wars" and, near my hometown of Billings, the Battle of the Little Bighorn.
Famously, Lt. Col. George Custer and 262 of his retinue were slaughtered and scalped here when they surprised an encampment of Lakota (Sioux) and Northern Cheyenne. Flamboyant Custer -- renowned for his luck in war -- fatally underestimated his enemy during a hasty attack and disorganized retreat.
The Battle of the Little Bighorn wasn't always called this, of course. For most of my life, the spot just an hour east of Billings was the Custer Battlefield National Monument or "Custer's Last Stand." Even in 2nd grade, I didn't understand why they'd name a battlefield after the side that lost. And lost badly.
But not just the names have changed here, which is why my mom and I were revisiting this national landmark, along with my wife and best friend who had never been here before.
More than 130 years after Custer's defeat, there's more actual "field" than signs of battle left at the battlefield. But it's still beautiful -- beautiful in the way Montana's rolling, bronze prairies can stretch to the horizon. The park itself includes roughly 2 miles of walkable trails, including a short, steep climb up Last Stand Hill -- where Custer, his three brothers and 38 others died behind an impromptu barricade of 39 dead horses, some shot by their riders for cover. Down from the hill sits a two-room interpretive center, a bookstore, restrooms and a small national cemetery.
It's more than 100 degrees when we tour the site in July, which turns out to be uncomfortably informative, mostly because we get a sense of the battle itself. For two days in late June 1876, the sun beat down on the warring parties. Custer's men carried little water, and some soldiers dressed in full wool, military garb.
"How scary is that?" says my mom. "Seriously, to have three bullets and a canteen up on that hill, knowing no one was coming for you."
One of the Northern Cheyenne warriors, Two Moons, later described the scene: "We circled around them, like water swirling around a stone."
When I was a kid, the lasting visual imprint I took from here included hundreds of tiny, white marble markers speckled throughout the battlefield, miniature tombstones denoting the place where soldiers fell. Some have names, others -- mostly those of enlisted or unknown men -- don't. A typical stone simply says "U.S. Soldier 7th Calvary fell here June 25, 1876."
Today, those markers are joined by a dozen or so red granite stones, erected since 1999 for their Native American counterparts. One, near the Little Bighorn River, reads "Hevovetaso, Little Whirlwind, a Cheyenne Warrior fell here on June 25, 1876, while defending the Cheyenne way of life."
This embrace of a more rounded historical perspective started in 1991, when the battlefield was renamed Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument. There's even a separate Indian monument (dedicated in 2003), a fitting (but heat-trapping) semi-circle of warrior names along a stone wall. It's a reminder that the coalition of 6,000 to 10,000 Cheyenne and Lakota here were just as desperate, moving not only themselves, but their families.
While the Battle of the Little Bighorn provided Native Americans with a resounding victory, it also turned Custer into a martyr and justified the use of increased force against tribal insurgents. By 1877, the Indian Wars fizzled and most Native Americans were sent back to reservations.
Custer continues to cast a long shadow in Montana. History has painted him alternately as a hero, a reckless scapegoat and a vain fool, the last in his class at West Point. In recent years, his image has gained more depth with the book (and, later, TV miniseries starring Gary Cole) "Son of the Morning Star," which portrays Custer as a soldier who opposed Indian policy but still enforced it, who reached for glory but saw his famous luck run out in a high-profile conflict.
"On one hand, he didn't respect the Indians, but he admired them," says Ken Woody, chief of interpretation at the battlefield. "You can call him a fool, and you have to call him brave. He led all of his own charges."
When I ask how the battlefield has changed in the last 15 years, Woody says, "It's the inclusion of Indian people -- and not just the Indian people, but everybody. It's sort of a soapbox for the nation. Finally, here we are in 2007 and it's everyone's battlefield. We were all here for what we thought was right. It's not just the soldiers, not just the Indians."
IF YOU GO
GETTING THERE: United Airlines has one non-stop daily to Billings, Mont., the nearest gateway for Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument.
From Billings, take Interstate Highway 90 east past Crow Agency to exit 510, then turn south on U.S. Highway 212. With ample highway signs, the battlefield is tough to miss.
The drive takes about an hour. Admission: $10 per vehicle, $5 for pedestrians (and motorcycles).
LODGING: There are plenty of places in Billings, Montana's largest city, to hitch your horse for the night. Chain hotels abound, including Country Inn & Suites (from $119) on Main Street, as well as non-chains like the rustic (read: older) Dude Rancher Inn (from $60) downtown. Billings even boasts a handful of B&Bs, including the elegant Josephine ($65-$160).
In Hardin, 15 miles north of the battlefield, choices are more limited. The American Inn (from $75) has an impressive water slide for travelers with kids.
For more information, search: www.visitmt.com.
DINING: No food is sold at the battlefield. Both Hardin and Crow Agency have multiple dining options, mostly of the truck stop and fast-food kind. I've always been partial to Little Big Men Pizza, a family pizza joint and casino in downtown Hardin.
ACTIVITIES: It's possible to walk much of the battlefield's 765 acres, so bring comfortable shoes or hiking boots. Beware, though: This is rattlesnake country. Also, bring bottles for water. Temperatures can reach into the low 100s.
Each June (June 27-29 in 2008), locals participate in Custer's Last Stand Re-enactment, just 6 miles west of Hardin, on Old U.S. Highway 87. Be sure to book in advance ($16 adults, $7 children, free under age 5) for this spirited performance. 888-450-3577.
Also, check out the Custer Battlefield Museum in nearby Garryowen, just south of the battlefield off I-90 at exit 514. In addition to Chief Little Wolf's eagle feather bonnet, a lock of Custer's hair and other amazing period artifacts, visitors can see a disputed tintype -- and the story of its lineage -- of what may be the only photo ever taken of Crazy Horse. Hours: 8 a.m.-8 p.m. in the summer, 9 a.m.-5 p.m. rest of the year. 406-638-1876; www.custermuseum.org
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