Battle of the Little Bighorn - Native American History - HISTORY.com Battle of the Little Bighorn Battle of the Little Bighorn Author Battle of the Little Bighorn URL A+E Networks Introduction The Battle of the Little Bighorn, fought on June 25, 1876, near the Little Bighorn River in Montana Territory, pitted federal troops led by Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer (1839-76) against a band of Lakota Sioux and Cheyenne warriors. Tensions between the two groups had been rising since the discovery of gold on Native American lands. When a number of tribes missed a federal deadline to move to reservations, the U.S. Army, including Custer and his 7th Calvary, was dispatched to confront them. Custer was unaware of the number of Indians fighting under the command of Sitting Bull (c.1831-90) at Little Bighorn, and his forces were outnumbered and quickly overwhelmed in what became known as Custer’s Last Stand.

Google Battle of the Little Bighorn: Mounting Tensions Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse (c.1840-77), leaders of the Sioux on the Great Plains, strongly resisted the mid-19th-century efforts of the U.S. government to confine their people to reservations. In 1875, after gold was discovered in South Dakota’s Black Hills, the U.S. Army ignored previous treaty agreements and invaded the region. This betrayal led many Sioux and Cheyenne tribesmen to leave their reservations and join Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse in Montana . By the late spring of 1876, more than 10,000 Native Americans had gathered in a camp along the Little Bighorn River–which they called the Greasy Grass–in defiance of a U.S. War Department order to return to their reservations or risk being attacked. Did You Know? Several members ofGeorge Armstrong Custer's family were alsokilled at the Battle of the Little Bighorn, including two of his brothers, his brother-in-law and a nephew. In mid-June, three columns of U.S. soldiers lined up against the camp and prepared to march.

A force of 1,200 Native Americans turned back the first column on June 17. Five days later, General Alfred Terry ordered George Custer’s 7th Cavalry to scout ahead for enemy troops. On the morning of June 25, Custer drew near the camp and decided to press on ahead rather than wait for reinforcements. Battle of the Little Bighorn: Custer’s Last Stand At mid-day on June 25, Custer’s 600 men entered the Little Bighorn Valley. Among the Native Americans, word quickly spread of the impending attack. The older Sitting Bull rallied the warriors and saw to the safety of the women and children, while Crazy Horse set off with a large force to meet the attackers head on. Despite Custer’s desperate attempts to regroup his men, they were quickly overwhelmed. Custer and some 200 men in his battalion were attacked by as many as 3,000 Native Americans; within an hour, Custer and all of his soldiers were dead. The Battle of the Little Bighorn, also called Custer’s Last Stand, marked the most decisive Native American victory and the worst U.S. Army defeat in the long Plains Indian War.

The demise of Custer and his men outraged many white Americans and confirmed their image of the Indians as wild and bloodthirsty. Meanwhile, the U.S. government increased its efforts to subdue the tribes. Within five years, almost all of the Sioux and Cheyenne would be confined to reservations. Tags Little Bighorn Battlefield - Custer's last battle "Custer's Last Command" by Richard Luce June 25, 1876 probably around 4:30 PM at the Little Bighorn. The artist portrays Custer's last minutes right down to the individual weapons used by the soldiers along with the smoke and chaos of battle. Lt. Col. George Custer is standing dismounted next to the horse in the center. His brother Tom is mounted just beyond him. Even this painting evokes controversy because there are credible reports that Custer was fatally shot down at the river near the Native American village and was already dying when his troopers were cut off. June 25-26, 1876. The most celebrated military man in America at that time goes down fighting. The images are ingrained into American culture - Lt. Col.

George Armstrong Custer in the center of his men on top of a hill, pistols in hand while fierce Indian warriors circle them on horse back shooting bows and arrows. Is that what really happened? The Little Bighorn is not exactly off the beaten path and it is certainly not a geocaching oasis. But we are history buffs and it is such a fascinating place that we had to include it. Walking the ground of great and terrible events brings to mind questions like "What would have happened if..." or "Why did they do that?". The Little Bighorn is one of those places. We thought we knew what happened here, but found out we didn't know diddly. After three visits in five years and some lengthy research and cross-checking of our own for the web site, we ended up with more questions than answers. We're not the only ones. The Controversies With the possible exception of Gettysburg and the JFK assassination, there has probably been more written about the Battle of the Little Bighorn than any other single event in American history. Even today, it is studied and argued and written about. There are still areas of the battlefield that have never been thoroughly investigated.

Yet, despite all the books, oral histories, archaeological digs, scholarly research, written records, Indian lore and other examinations, there is very little consensus on anything - except that Custer got killed that day. We visit battlefields and historical sites all over the country. They have their little mysteries and controversies at times, but nothing on the scale of the Little Bighorn. It's as volatile today as it was 138 years ago. The issues are endless - the time and length of the Last Stand, how Custer was killed, how big the Indian encampment was, how many warriors there were, how many men got killed in the Deep Ravine, why did Reno dismount at the river, could Benteen have reinforced in time, did the Indians have rifles, what kind and how many - and the opinions are just as endless. The two main rival camps appear to have historians on one side and archaeologists on the other. Historians rely heavily on battle records and interviews. Contrary to the belief that "there were no survivors" at the Little Bighorn, historians will tell you that there were thousands of survivors. Over half of Custer's regiment survived and walked the battlefield the next day.

There were many Native American survivors and they told their stories in detail in the years following the battle but researchers consistently dismiss those reports as unreliable. One of the earliest known photos of Last Stand Hill after the battle. This was taken in the summer of 1879 - three years later - and there were bones and remains everywhere. Archaeologists say that those reports do indeed need to be taken with a grain of salt. Native American accounts of the battle tend to exaggerate and embellish personal accomplishments, such as all the braves who claim to have shot Custer. A better research model is to use use artifacts and forensics to detail the battle, basically treating the battlefield like a crime scene using forensic science that didn't exist before. This conflict really escalated 30 years ago. In August 1983, a prairie fire swept over the entire battlefield, burning away 100 years of ungrazed grass and undergrowth. It revealed a treasure trove of artifacts and remains laying exposed on the charred surface. The National Park Service seized the opportunity to pursue archaeological examinations of the Little Bighorn.

There were four of them - 1983, 1984, 1989 and 1994. They produced some results and theories which completely revised the traditional view of the battle. A sample of it can be found in this US News and World Report article from July 24, 2000 . To which the historians reply you can't do reliable forensics on a scene that has been contaminated for over 100 years by exposure to the elements, re-enactments, relic hunters and tourists tromping all over the place. Well, you get the idea. I guess the archaeologists could counter that last one with "Sounds like the pyramids." Oral histories can be tainted by personal perspective, language barriers and the skill of the interviewer. They also tend to be embellished. All archaeological sites are contaminated to some degree. Therefore it stands to reason that neither side has completely reliable information. Their respective theories are built on incomplete data and subject to endless and fruitless examination. One thing you rarely see discussed are the actual conditions of the battlefield and the part that terrain and weather played.

Prussian General Carl Von Clausewitz is credited with the concept of the "fog of war" meaning the inherent confusion and unexpected things that influence the outcome of a battle. That was probably a major factor in the chain of events at the Little Bighorn - including real fog. The plains of Montana are dusty and hazy especially in late afternoon. The battle area overlooking the river is steep and winding with deep ravines (called coulees) that can make horses and men disappear from sight, only to seemingly pop up out of nowhere someplace else. Add to that the dust from thousands of horse hooves and the smoke from the weapons and it is very likely that there was a pall over the entire battlefield that prevented direct observation, coordinated action or effective assessment. This obscuring of the battlefield would have affected the 7th Cavalry more than their opponents, who had home field advantage. Our little website is not going to solve the riddle of the Little Bighorn and we don't want to place ourselves in the middle of this controversy, which gets quite heated at times. Instead, we have chosen to present some noteworthy things we saw there or found in our own research, along with some ideas for visiting the battlefield today.

A panorama of the battlefield taken from the base of Last Stand Monument. Custer's headstone is marked as the place he fell. He is buried at West Point. The battlefield continues all around to the right and left. If you had been standing here on June 25, 1876, at about 4:00 PM, there would have been Indians everywhere. A Bad Omen? When Custer took the 7th Cavalry into the Little Bighorn Valley, he had been in the regiment for almost 10 years. The war against the Plains Indians was in full swing during that decade and the man in charge of carrying it out was General Phillip Sheridan. An aggressive and ruthless warrior, Sheridan and his Union army laid waste to the Shenandoah Valley in the fall of 1864 in one of the most hard fought but little known campaigns of the Civil War. His favorite subordinate was Brevet (temporary) Brigadier General George Armstrong Custer, commander of the 5th Michigan Cavalry - the Wolverines. Custer distinguished himself many times during the Civil War, none more so than in the Shenandoah with Sheridan.

After the war, Custer was reverted back to his real rank of Lieutenant Colonel but his zeal for combat and his relationship with Sheridan remained. When Sheridan went west to deal with the Indians in August 1867, Custer went with him. Indian fighting was much different from the swirling cavalry battles of the Civil War. The Plains Indians were an elusive foe who refused to be drawn into the decisive battles that Custer wanted. They always seemed to be one step ahead of the Army. Indian ponies were much faster than army horses and could live on prairie grass, which army horses could not. A cavalry unit in the field had to transport food for their stock, creating a supply train that slowed down everything. Additionally, the distances in the Great Plains were mind-numbing compared to the relatively compact Civil War battlefields. If the soldiers did get within striking distance, the highly mobile Indians would pull out in haste before the soldiers could do anything. The only exception to that pattern was if the women and children of the village were endangered. Then the warriors would swarm to the attackers and fight ferociously.

One of those times was the Battle of the Washita (wa-shee-TAW) River on November 27, 1868 near present day Cheyenne, OK. At dawn on that bitter cold morning, Custer attacked a Cheyenne village which was set up as winter quarters on the banks of the river. Not expecting a winter campaign by the blue coats, surprise was total and the battle was a one-sided victory for the regiment, which suffered only one man killed. The Cheyenne recovered quickly and mounted a fierce if brief resistance. Even women and children joined in the fight, resulting in the deaths of many. Over 100 Cheyenne were killed and more than 50 were taken prisoner, mostly women and children. Custer and his men were flush with victory, however, this thing wasn't over yet. Custer's men were in the process of burning everything and slaughtering 800 Indian ponies when they found themselves under fire from the surrounding ridge lines by over 1,000 mounted warriors. They came from other villages down the river which Custer's reconnaissance had not found.

Suddenly, he was on defence, surrounded and outnumbered by a force he didn't know about until they showed up and started shooting. Darkness came on early, with deep snow and icy temperatures. A potential disaster was in the making unless he could find a way to extricate his regiment. The reason the Indians didn't attack in force was they feared for the safety of the women and children taken captive in the battle. That gave Custer some breathing room. His solution was classic Custer. He attacked down river towards the villages. When the warriors moved to protect them, the 7th Cavalry changed direction and marched out of their encirclement. Unaccounted for and left behind were his second-in-command, Major Joel Elliot and 19 troopers. They were last seen pursuing hostiles early in the morning. [**HISTORICAL FOOTNOTE: Two weeks later, on December 11, a column led by General Sheridan returned to the battle area. Several miles away, near a small stream, they found the frozen remains of Major Elliot and his men, killed in a last stand on the day of the battle.

Their bodies were retrieved, examined and buried in an unmarked mass grave that night.**] Despite the close call, the Battle of the Washita River was considered a decisive victory for the army (because they needed one) and burnished Custer's reputation as an Indian fighter. However, this was Custer's first Indian fight and the only major one he would have until the Little Bighorn eight years later. In many ways, it was a harbinger of the future. In between, the 7th Cavalry spent most of their time patrolling the plains and rounding up starving, sick and frozen Indians who offered little resistance. Why should the Little Bighorn be any different? But it was different. Custer was a horse soldier but the Little Bighorn was not a cavalry battle. It was a dismounted infantry fight. Most of the combat was on foot and low to the ground. There are two reasons for this. Nine years earlier at the Wagon Box Fight in Wyoming, Native American warriors had been schooled on the futility of charging headlong into massed rifle fire, especially repeaters.

In that furious action, 26 troopers with new breech-loading rifles and six civilian woodcutters with 16-shot lever action Henry rifles held off 1,000 braves for most of a day and lived to tell about it. One of the Indian leaders that day was Crazy Horse, the tactical leader at the Little Bighorn. By the time of the battle, his braves had repeaters of their own, which Custer's men did not. The other factor is that Custer's men left their sabers back at their home base to save weight. That means they had no close in weapon with which to fight from horseback. A cavalry charge was the armored assault of its day, depending on audacity, shock, momentum and violence to carry out its mission. That meant cold steel and flashing blades at a full gallop. Instead, Custer's force had to dismount to fight with their single shot Springfield rifles. The Indians had lances, tomahawks and war clubs for close in fighting and got better use out of cavalry tactics than Custer did. If Custer had maintained the ability to fight close in on horseback, the outcome may have been very different.

Why would an experienced horse soldier like Custer leave the sabers behind? Probably the same reason anybody leaves something behind. They don't think they'll need it. In the military, they say no plan survives the first round down range. That was certainly the case with Custer's plan. He was counting on a small village where everyone would run at the sight of blue coats - not a six mile long encampment with 5,000 warriors who were better armed than his soldiers. Custer Attacks Custer's regiment had 647 men in 12 companies, which he split into four groups. One company was left behind to guard the pack train. Two columns of three companies each, led by Major Marcus Reno and Captain Frederick Benteen, were to attack the Indian encampment from the southeast and cut off escape routes. Custer, with a column of five companies totaling 210 men, would move northwest, cross the river above the village and attack as the main effort from that direction. As he moved along Battle Ridge and the size of the encampment became apparent, he deployed two companies to mutually support each other and protect his rear - Company L commanded by Lt.

James Calhoun and Company I commanded by Captain Myles Keogh. By that time, Custer's plan had already fallen apart. Whether he knew it or not is anybody's guess. Thousands of Native American braves - Lakota, Cheyenne, Blackfeet and Arapaho - swarmed out of the encampment and attacked. Major Reno's attack along the river bottom turned into a panicked every-man-for-himself bug out. His men had dismounted to attack and now found themselves on the receiving end of an Indian cavalry charge. His troopers were literally run down as they desperately clawed their way up the coulees to the high ground. Benteen, watching that disaster from the heights above, never fully deployed. He moved his three companies to the pack train, gathered up Reno's survivors and organized a defense. Crazy Horse's warriors then turned their fury on Calhoun's Company L and Keogh's Company I. Before Custer's reckoning, they fought ferocious last stands of their own. Heavily outnumbered and outgunned, it was over quickly. Their battles have prominent markers on the driving tour of the battlefield. This completely cut off Custer from supplies and reinforcement.

Did he realize how bad his situation was? No one knows. Would it have made any difference in his actions if he had known? I suspect not. Weir Point, where Captain Thomas Weir and Company D stopped when looking for Custer. This is probably the closest any white survivors got to Last Stand Hill, which is about three miles away. Calhoun, Keogh and their companies were already dead. D company held on here for a while but were forced back by overwhelming odds. Weir's men later reported seeing Indians swarming over Last Stand Hill and shooting at the ground around 5:00 PM. Factor in the smoke and haze obscuring the battlefield and it's hard to know what they saw. Henryville is the name given to a hilltop by archaeologists. In the 1984 dig, they found hundreds of cartridge cases from Henry rifles, indicating this had been a strong Indian firing position. The park entrance and Visitor's Center are down by the trees. The road in the foreground is along the driving tour and follows Custer's line of march along Battle Ridge.

At this point in the battle, no one knew Custer's location or his situation, but they could probably tell from the smoke and gunfire in the distance that a major battle was in progress. Earlier, Benteen had received a message from Custer telling him to catch up. Benteen and Reno judged that they couldn't get through to Custer, but Captain Thomas Weir, commanding Company D, decided to give it a try. They reached a spot about three miles from Last Stand Hill, today known as Weir Point, but could go no further and were forced back to the logistic train by overwhelming numbers of enemy. The Last Stand The truth is, nobody really knows what happened to Custer and his men, other than they all got killed. We'll never know if Custer realized his predicament until it was too late. He was always on offense, always on the attack. Going on the defense was a sure sign that things had gone completely to Hell. The position on Last Stand Hill suggests a very hasty and desperate defense with the cavalrymen killing their horses to get some cover. Earlier in the fight, Custer sent his bugler, John Martin, back to Reno and Benteen with a message.

It was short and sweet - "Big village. Come quick. Bring packs." Unfortunately, the fog of war reared its head. Martin was an Italian immigrant who spoke very little English. When questioned about Custer's message, his situation, his location and what he needed, Martin couldn't communicate. Custer probably went to his death thinking reinforcements would be here any minute if they could just hold on. We don't know what time the last stand started or how long it lasted. Custer had been decisively engaged in a running battle for two to three hours pressing his attack across the river and to the outskirts of the village before being turned back by heavy resistance. They were on their way back up Battle Ridge when they found themselves cut off and surrounded. The best historical guess is that it started around 4:00 PM and lasted less than an hour. Some say it was as little as 20 minutes. Forensic evidence suggests that the Indians low crawled through the grass-filled coulees towards the troopers, popping up to fire then dropping back down. It's quite probable that the only thing Custer's men saw until the final rush was heads bobbing up and down all over the place.

One thing both sides seem to agree on - the popular picture of Indians riding wildly in a circle around Custer is a myth. The trail to the Deep Ravine taken from the Visitor's Center. Last Stand Hill is off to the left. In this picture, there are 25 headstones along the trail but the trail wasn't there the day of the battle. Does that mean they fought their way down the slope by forming a skirmish line? Or was it an every-man-for-himself bug out? That depends on who you talk to. At the end, a group of men on Last Stand Hill made a run for it on foot in a desperate attempt to reach the cover of the river. Could it be that Custer was already dead? It's hard to imagine Custer's troopers bugging out while he was still fighting. One of those who made the dash was the regimental surgeon. Would the doc have bolted if Custer were still alive? There is a trail that leads downhill from the Visitor's Center to a large coulee called the Deep Ravine. Headstones along the trail mark where cavalry men were run down and killed, along with their names, if known.

Some accounts say they fought their way down, forming a skirmish line along the way. Others say it was a headlong rush. A small group made it to the ravine, thinking it was a covered route to the river. It wasn't. It went to the river alright, but was the main avenue of approach for the Indians from their encampment to the battle area. They lined the top of the ravine and poured fire into it, leaving no survivors. This was the final action of Custer's Last Stand. All 210 men - troopers, civilians, scouts - were killed, 39 of them on Last Stand Hill itself. As for Custer himself, we don't know the exact circumstances of his death. National Park Service guides say he was killed by a bullet to the left temple on Last Stand Hill. That pretty much rules out suicide ("save the last bullet for yourself") since Custer was right-handed. Other reports say he bled to death from a chest wound received down by the river and may not have even been functional during the Last Stand. So even though Custer's un-mutilated body was recovered two days later and presumably examined, there isn't even a consensus on this topic.

So it goes at the Little Bighorn. The Deep Ravine, where the last of Custer's men were finished off after making a run for it. The picture was taken from the NPS overlook. How many were killed here and how many remain buried here is a major point of contention at the Little Bighorn. It's estimated that the ravine was 8-10 feet deeper the day of the battle. The Little Bighorn River is in the distant trees. Reno-Benteen Defense The battle didn't end with the Last Stand. In fact, the Indians most likely didn't know who they had just killed. After finishing off Custer and his men, the warriors turned their attention to Major Reno, Custer's second-in-command, and the logistics wagon train about four miles away. Reno had time to prepare a hasty defense and the battle raged until dark, when the Indians withdrew. The troopers spent the night preparing defensive positions. A party of 19 men volunteered for the hair-raising task of going down the bluff to the river to get desperately needed water. They succeeded and all 19 received the Medal of Honor. The battle was joined again at first light.

Reno held on until reinforcements arrived. In a logistical marvel of their own, the 7,000 person Native American camp was gone the next morning, ending the Battle of the Little Bighorn. Last Stand Hill at the Little Bighorn taken from the trail down to the Deep Ravine. Custer and 39 troopers died here. Others were killed in small groups or as they made a run for it. The markers show where bodies were found after the battle. Custer's marker is pointed out above. Custer is buried at West Point. Most of the other troopers who died here are buried in a mass grave underneath the monument. Aftermath George Custer was not the only Custer to die at the Little Bighorn. His brothers Thomas and Boston and nephew Henry Reed died on Last Stand Hill, almost wiping out the male bloodline. Another brother, Nevin, suffered from serious health problems and never went west. He did have children though and the Custer line continues today. Thomas Custer is an interesting person in his own right. During the Civil War, he won the Medal of Honor twice.

He had a reputation as a warrior and battle leader, but lived in the shadow of his older brother for his entire career. Most people have never heard of him. Normally the commander of Company C, he had been detailed to Custer's staff for this operation and died on Last Stand Hill. His marker is right next to his brother's, leading to speculation by some that Tom may have reached over and shot his brother in the left temple to prevent his capture. Tom's body was horribly mutilated after the battle and had to be identified by his tattoos. George Custer's body was untouched. Henry Reed Boston Custer and Henry "Autie" Reed were both civilian teamsters for the Army. Boston left the pack train riding a mule to join his brothers forward, meeting John Martin on the way back with his message to Benteen. Martin had just run a gauntlet of Indian fire to get through and advised Boston to turn back. Boston pressed on and made it. Henry was already there, having convinced his uncles earlier to take him along. When they died, George was 36, Tom was 31, Boston was 28 and Henry Reed was 18. Lt.

James Calhoun, who died in his own last stand, was married to Custer's younger sister, Maggie. Normally Custer's Adjutant, he assumed temporary command of Company L just before the battle. Some Indian accounts of the battle mention the fight on Calhoun Hill as being the fiercest of the day. Of the estimated 100 KIA suffered by the Indians that day, over 30 of them were found on Calhoun Hill. The only other un-mutilated body on the field of battle was that of Captain Myles Keogh, who was as interesting as the Custer clan. Keogh was an Irish soldier of fortune who fought with the Union during the Civil War. He fought in 80 separate engagements including Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, Gettysburg and Sherman's March to the Sea. In July 1864, he was captured by Confederate forces while leading a cavalry raid attempting to liberate Andersonville . He was released two months later in a prisoner exchange and returned to the fighting. After the war, he stayed in the army, became a US citizen and operated on the plains for 10 years.

He never got a scratch on him until the Little Bighorn. Why his body and Custer's body weren't desecrated is unknown. Bugler John Martin, whose real name was Giovan Martino (or Giovanni Martini according to some), became known as "the last white survivor to see Custer alive." He ran a gauntlet of fire and arrows alone to deliver Custer's message to Benteen. He stayed in the Army, was a key witness at the 1879 Board of Inquiry, saw more action in the plains Indian wars and served during the Spanish-American War. Retiring from the Army in 1904 as a Master Sergeant, he returned to his immigrant roots in New York City. He worked at several jobs, including ticket taker on the new subway system and a worker at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Along the way, he married and had eight children. For almost 50 years, John Martin was the living bridge between the history books and events at the Little Bighorn. He gave frequent interviews, was the guest of honor at functions and told war stories between acts at Broadway plays.

He died of pulmonary failure secondary to an accident a week earlier on Christmas Eve, 1922 at the age of 69. He is buried in plot #8865 at the Cypress Hills National Cemetery in Brooklyn. This blog does a great job of detailing the life of this fascinating old soldier. Major Marcus Reno survived the battle but not his own demons. Scapegoated, blamed for the debacle and accused of cowardice and incompetence, he spent the next four years in one scrape after another - drinking, fighting and other assorted "conducts unbecoming". A board of inquiry in 1879 formally absolved him of blame in the battle but the rumors persisted. He was dismissed from the service in 1880 with a general discharge, died in 1889 and was buried with a plain marker at Oak Hill Cemetery in Washington, DC. In 1967, a military review board changed his discharge to honorable and he was re-interred at the Custer National Cemetery on the battlefield. Captain Frederick Benteen spent 16 years in the 7th Cavalry. For most of that time, he was the commanding officer of H Troop.

He fought at Washita River and survived the Little Bighorn. His decision to fall back and not reinforce Custer was questioned time and again and remains controversial to this day. He steadfastly maintained that it would have been a suicide mission. That may be true but it's also true that John Martin and Boston Custer (on a mule) each made the same dangerous journey alone during the fight. It's also true that Benteen despised Custer. He blamed Custer's glory hunting for the death of his best friend, Major Joel Elliot, at Washita River eight years earlier. Benteen never forgot or forgave Custer and was, at times, openly contemptuous and insubordinate. Nevertheless, Benteen was an experienced fighter and no coward. His actions in the defense of the pack train, now called the Reno-Benteen Defense Site, were commendable and probably saved that position along with the rest of the regiment. He remained in the Army but couldn't allay the rumors that dogged the rest of his career. He retired in 1888 as a Major. Benteen served capably for 28 years, seeing extensive action in the Civil War and the Indian campaigns.

He received several brevet promotions for his actions in various engagements, but the stigma of the Little Bighorn overshadowed all of it. He died in 1898 and is buried at Arlington National cemetery. Crazy Horse, who spent most of his adult life at war and never had his picture taken, surrendered at Camp Robinson, Nebraska in May of 1877. He lived quietly in a nearby tribal village until September 4, when his arrest was ordered. After being transported to the guardhouse, Crazy Horse struggled with the guards and tried to escape. In the fight, he was bayoneted and died later that night. His body was turned over to his parents. His final resting place is unknown. Under his leadership, the Native American warriors had won decisively at the Little Bighorn but it was a Pyrrhic victory . The public and government both were outraged that this could happen to an army unit led by Custer and only a week before the nation's centennial. They demanded harsh retribution - and they got it. Crazy Horse surrendered 11 months later and was dead three months after that. The Native American federation that won the battle fell apart and the tribes were killed, dispersed or rounded up.

In winning at the Little Bighorn, the Plains Indians probably hastened their own end. There is one last historical footnote. The Battle of the Little Bighorn is often called the greatest loss the U.S. Army ever suffered in the campaigns against the Native Americans. Not true. That dubious distinction belongs to the Battle of the Wabash on November 4, 1791. That battle was fought near present day Fort Recovery, Ohio and resulted in the deaths of almost 1,000 U.S. soldiers. That was close to half of America's standing army at that time, effectively leaving President George Washington with no army. However, it would be a true statement to say the Little Bighorn was the Army's greatest loss in the Plains Indian Wars of the mid to late 19th century. There are many questions about the Battle of the Little Bighorn that will never be answered. The one that haunts battlefield addicts the most is - "What really happened on Last Stand Hill?" Your guess is as good as anybody else's. The Little Bighorn Today The Visitor's Center and National Cemetery viewed from the top of Last Stand Hill.

The people closest at the bottom of the hill are at the start of the trail to the Deep Ravine. The Little Bighorn Battlefield is a fascinating place. We've been there several times and plan to return. It's much bigger than we had envisioned - almost five miles long and two miles wide. The terrain is extremely rugged and boy, is it hot. The ground is pretty much just like it was during the battle, so it's possible to get a good perspective and understanding of what happened. There is a self-guided driving tour that runs the length of the battlefield. Before that, you want to take in the ranger talk about the battle at the Visitor's Center. If you visit the Little Bighorn on the anniversary of the battle, there are re-enactors and guides at the major sites to answer questions and provide information. The NPS also allows walking around on parts of the battlefield that are normally closed. Be sure to take the trail down to the Deep Ravine. There's an overlook with information placards. Where ever you go, watch out for rattlesnakes! There's only one geocache here. It's a virtual cache called Little Bighorn National Monument .

The answers that you need are actually on the Last Stand monument. There's a handful of traditional caches up the road in Hardin and more along the highways. You can pick up literally dozens of caches in Montana by just cruising the Interstates with the highest speed limit in the country. Billings on the other hand is sitting on a sea of geocaches as are most Big Sky cities. The GPS coordinates of the Visitors Center are N45.5221ï¿½, W107.3778ï¿½ . Click on the coordinates to open an interactive Google map. Garryowen....Out here....Alpha6 Custer's Last Stand [ushistory.org] An artist's interpretation of the Battle of Little Big Horn Another Broken Treaty Gold broke the delicate peace with the Sioux. In 1874, a scientific exploration group led by General George Armstrong Custer discovered the precious metal in the heart of the Black Hills of South Dakota. When word of the discovery leaked, nothing could stop the masses of prospectors looking to get rich quick, despite the treaty protections that awarded that land to the Sioux.

Sitting Bull and Crazy Horse, the local Indian leaders, decided to take up arms to defend their dwindling land supply. The Statue is entitled "Sighting the Enemy." It depicts General Custer at Gettysburg on July 3rd, 1863. On that date Custer led the famed Michigan Brigade to victory over J.E.B. Stuart, despite Stuart's numerical superiority Little Big Horn Custer was perhaps the most flamboyant and brash officer in the United States Army. He was confident that his technologically superior troops could contain the Native American fighters. Armed with new weapons of destruction such as the rapid-firing Gatling gun, Custer and his soldiers felt that it was only a matter of time before the Indians would surrender and submit to life on a smaller reservation. Custer hoped to make that happen sooner rather than later. His orders were to locate the Sioux encampment in the Big Horn Mountains of Montana and trap them until reinforcements arrived. But the prideful Custer sought to engage the Sioux on his own. On June 25, 1876, he discovered a small Indian village on the banks of the Little Big Horn River.

Custer confidently ordered his troops to attack, not realizing that he was confronting the main Sioux and Cheyenne encampment. About three thousand Sioux warriors led by Crazy Horse descended upon Custer's regiment, and within hours the entire Seventh Cavalry and General Custer were massacred. The victory was brief for the warring Sioux. The rest of the United States regulars arrived and chased the Sioux for the next several months. By October, much of the resistance had ended. Crazy Horse had surrendered, but Sitting Bull and a small band of warriors escaped to Canada. Eventually they returned to the United States and surrendered because of hunger. by Jake Herman Is this really Crazy Horse? According to most historians, the great Sioux warrior never allowed his picture to be taken. While no images of Crazy Horse have been universally proved as the real deal, this tin-type has been claimed authentic by the Oglala Sioux Tribal Council. Reactions Back East Custer's Last Stand caused massive debate in the East. War hawks demanded an immediate increase in federal military spending and swift judgment for the noncompliant Sioux. Critics of United States policy also made their opinions known.

The most vocal detractor, Helen Hunt Jackson, published A Century of Dishonor in 1881. This blistering assault on United States Indian policy chronicled injustices toward Native Americans over the past hundred years. The American masses, however, were unsympathetic or indifferent. A systematic plan to end all native resistance was approved, and the Indians of the West would not see another victory like the Little Big Horn. General Custer's last stand, Montana's historical site - by Brian Buchanan, freelance copywriter ( American Foklore ) First lights and last stands: Custer and the Indians Together Again [ historical and cultural perspective on the Battle of the Little Big Horn - American folklore & myths ] By Brian Buchanan freelance copywriter Two hundred and twenty markers climb the hillside toward a flat peak, while a glowering sky lurches and spins beyond. Along the edge of the meandering groups of tall, rectangular wooden markers runs a road. At the top, a 15- foot obelisk's stone sides bear the grave site occupants' names. A wind-driven rain bites at our faces and lashes the long grass across the rolling hills, painting light and shadow through a dozen hues of green landscape.

Turning my back to the wind, I look southward down a four- mile series of descending slopes to the Little Big Horn, clothed thickly in a border of 30 foot deciduous trees, and winding across the scene in series of sharp twists as it disappears out of sight across the undulating prairie. Westward, more white markers dot the grass-clothed hills: one or two in a clump, off into the distance. Up on a bluff ringed by sloping hills much like the one on which I stand, poke out more grave markers. And from that distant hill, down to the river at the west side of the trees, yet more markers. The sense of distance is surprising. Unlike Hollywood's version, the real 1876 drama took place over considerable distances, and as we found out from our Crow "interpretative center" guides, the battle took several days, not hours, to play itself out. That's two of a number of surprises I found at this lonely reach of national park in south-east Montana. Much of the truth about this battle runs against popular myth. Looking up this 200 foot, 15 degree hill, I'm struck by the finality of the scene.

Custer's last stand it was. The Cheyenne's and Lakota Sioux's too. While a minor skirmish in the 300 years of friction between various stone age aboriginals and sundry civilized and barbaric European factions, it was just about the last round of that cycle, though "Indian wars" lurched on intermittently for another 15 years. From King Philips' War in the original 17th Century English colonies, to the final Apache surrender in the South West, various aboriginal and European groups combined with each in fights with myriad enemies. In the most pivotal stages, the French and English used tribal alliances as they fought for control of North America in the Seven Years' War ending in 1763 with French withdrawal. But the carnage continued. History is more complicated than modern political correctness would have it. Like many other early groups in North America, the Sioux and Cheyenne fought wars of extermination against other aboriginal groups. Alliances among groups were fleeting and fluid. Before the Europeans arrived, many tribes had already disappeared in the maelstrom of internecine wars following four separate waves of pre-European immigration from Asia to North America. When the Europeans arrived they found many willing allies.

The Crow threw in with the blue coated United States cavalry to save themselves from extinction at the intruding Lakota's hands. Some 50 Crow died with Custer. In fact the Custer debacle's original purpose lay in driving Cheyenne and Lakota off lands designated by the US government for the Crow. In perhaps an incongruous case of constancy, considering how much one hears of broken government promises to aboriginals, the land is Crow property to this day. Our narrating guide is an eloguent Crow woman with a wicked sense of humour about snakes "right behind you" and about historical anomalies: "Crazy Horse would have come up right near that freeway...&148; of course, the freeway wasn't there then..." On all sides, the warrior tradition was glorious and self-sustaining, regardless of practical considerations of property and assimilation. Bloody Knife, Custer's chief scout was a man of gravitas because he was a killer and leader, just as was Custer, Sitting Bull and the rest of the famous names of American folklore.

Looking back, all the martial puffery seems ghastly to the modern sensibility, but that warrior tradition played a dominating role in driving so much of aboriginal history to its pitiful state today. Complicated? Room for blame on all sides? You bet. But fascinating drama it seems now, particularly as I stand imagining the feel and fears of those two days of battle between factions of men on horseback and on the ground, pursuing and killing each other with primitive clubs, knives, pistols and rifles, bloodily and up close. So how did Custer come to this sorry, inglorious end? With 600 men, he came upon the Lakota and Cheyenne village down on the Little Big Horn, a temporary gathering of nomads for a conference on how to deal with the increasing blue coat activity and interference in their intertribal wars. Custer's scouts suggested there were about 2,000 people in the village. That would be men, women and children, since nomads took their home and families with them. Custer's arithmetic, based on numerous skirmishes, would calculate no more than a 1,000 warriors, probably fewer.

In fact, there were more than 10,000 villagers, providing perhaps 4,000 warriors for the conflict. A sidebar about arms: Custer's men had state of art Sharps carbines and new Colt 45 revolvers. Their rifles were accurate up to 300 yards, and could kill before aboriginal arrows or shorter range lever action or older firearms could reach the Sharps shooters. Still, in a mobile battle and where numbers were so one-sided, Custer faced a tough situation. The site and its custodians describe the fascinating complexity of the battle. Custer had a rendezvous he chose not to keep. He made a fateful error in splitting up his troops, and in telling Major Keno to attack, instead of waiting for General Crook. He sealed his fate in mistakenly thinking the Indians had seen him... and so the drama plays out in its recounting, on these wind-swept ridges in Montana's south-east. Looking for Custer's Last Stand? Some 55 miles east of Billings on Highway 212, the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument lies on the Crow Indian Reservation 60 miles south of Interstate Highway 94.

[END] Copyright © 1999 - 2002 Brian Buchanan Brian can be reached by email at buchanan@fracas.com Brian is a well known freelance copywriter and business consultant who resides in Vancouver, B.C. Canada. Brian's previous travel contributions to Provenance magazine have included topics such as Hadrians Wall in the United Kingdom, and Barging through Burgundy a canal boat holiday in Burgundy, France. N.B. Publishers note: Brian Buchanan has been contributing to a number of online web magazines since 1996 including Provenance the web magazine for information professionals / Fracas.com and / eTRAVEL.com Encyclopedia of the Great Plains | CUSTER FILMS Encyclopedia of the Great Plains CUSTER FILMS Custer films Hollywood has never felt particularly compelled to film its representations of Bvt. Maj. Gen. George Armstrong Custer's last battle at the Little Big Horn anywhere near where the actual epic 1876 battle occurred. But it is surprising to note that in at least some instances a few celluloid Custers and Sitting Bulls actually performed their cinematic battles before the cameras at various locales somewhere in between the Rocky Mountains and the muddy waters of the Missouri River.

On film George Armstrong Custer almost always has wielded an anachronistic saber, worn the wrong uniform, flown the wrong flags, and fired inaccurate pistols. But sometimes, in spite of a lack of historical accuracy, Custer's Last Stand on film has created a unique audience-pleasing celluloid world of its own making. Most film professionals take the viewpoint that historical films are more about the perception of history, not about documentary duplication of the event. And these very same directors, producers, writers, and actors have been more than willing to knowingly bend, alter, and even fabricate Custer filmland fiction to further a pet political viewpoint, give a vicarious thrill, or make a fast box office buck. Trying to convey a real sense of the Plains Indians Wars of the 1870s to an impressionable public has seldom been their concern. The very first Custer film, William Selig's Custer's Last Stand (1909), utilized footage of a reenactment shot near the real Montana battle site intercut with scenes done in Selig's Chicago studio. But it didn't take long for early producers to discover the balmy climate of Southern California.

The very next Custer film, Thomas Ince's 1912 production of Custer's Last Fight, was lensed amidst the rolling hills of Santa Monica. Ince had convinced the 101 Wild West Show troupe to winter in California so he could make use of their performers and rolling stock in a series of frontier-themed films. Of the sixty-seven motion pictures and thirty-some television representations of Custer, at least a handful were actually filmed in southeastern Montana or nearby South Dakota, the real-life haunts of the Seventh Cavalry and their Sioux and Cheyenne adversaries. In the Days of '75 and '76 (1915) was filmed in South Dakota utilizing a local National Guard unit to portray Custer's Seventh Cavalry. Victor Mature's thespian representation of Chief Crazy Horse in Universal's 1957 film of the same name shot its brief Little Big Horn sequence right in the middle of the Black Hills. Central Oregon was an adequate visual substitute for the Little Big Horn valley in The Flaming Frontier (1926) and Walt Disney's Tonka (1958).

The Scarlet West in 1925 and The Last Frontier in 1926 opted for the picturesque mesas of southwestern Colorado and southeastern Utah. Bob Hampton of Placer (1920) did an unusual combination of filming on the Blackfeet Reservation near Glacier National Park, Montana, and Fort Huachuca in southern Arizona, where the all-black enlisted men of the famed Tenth Cavalry stood in for the Seventh Cavalry in vast panoramic shots filmed from high atop a hovering signal balloon. Cecil B. De Mille's 1936 epic, The Plainsman, staged most of the film's large-scale battle scenes with a second unit near the Tongue River in Montana, only to see most of that footage then used as back projection for principal scenes filmed at sound stages on the Paramount lot in Los Angeles. When Paramount revisited the Custer battle with Warpath in 1951, the same Tongue River area was used again along with a partial reconstruction of Fort Abraham Lincoln built at the Montana State Fairgrounds in Billings. The most famous celluloid Custer motion picture, Errol Flynn's starring vehicle They Died with Their Boots On (1941), was shot exclusively on the Warner Bros.

Studio Ranch in Agoura, California, a scant twenty miles from Warner's main lot in the Los Angeles suburb of Burbank. No film has had more influence on the public's perception of Custer than this epic, until the release of Little Big Man in 1970. If Errol Flynn's Custer is rambunctious and overzealous, he is also loyal and courageous, all traits that, whatever else his faults, the real Custer exhibited time and again. If the film is incredibly inaccurate history, the tone of Flynn's characterization still rings quite true of the real man. Since 1970 filmmakers have tried to get as close to filming on the real battlefield as possible. Little Big Man (1970), ABC's miniseries of Evan Connell's best-selling book, Son of the Morning Star (1991), and tnt's cable television movie Crazy Horse (1995) were all shot in the Billings and Hardin areas, just a stone's throw away from the hallowed marble markers on the real Custer Hill.

But in 1997, when Robert Redford wanted to feature the current Little Big Horn National Battlefield in his contemporary western The Horse Whisperer, he had his art director build a modern-day representation near Livingston, Montana, 140 miles west of the actual location. Perhaps therein lies the magic of Hollywood's enduring fascination with Custer. Whether Custer is a hero or a villain, a major character or a minor supporting player, his buckskin jacket and long hair are immediately recognizable. For some these objects represent the white man's sins; for others they are the visual representation of heroic legend and myth. Custer's appeal on a medium like film is obvious; he is the most adaptable of visual symbols that represent the American West. Villain, hero, fool, misunderstood warrior, whatever the times have called for, filmmakers have molded George Custer into the figure that best suited their needs. There is no reason to think that will change in the future. See also IMAGES AND ICONS: Custer, George Armstrong . Dan Gagliasso National Cowboy Hall of Fame Dippie, Brian W. Custer's Last Stand: Anatomy of an American Myth. Missoula: University of Montana Press, 1976.

Gagliasso, Daniel L. The Celluloid Custer. Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 2000. Hutton, Paul Andrew. "Correct in Every Detail." Montana, the Magazine of the Western History 41 (1991): 28–54. How the Battle of Little Bighorn Was Won | History | Smithsonian Contact Privacy Policy Terms of Use How the Battle of Little Bighorn Was Won Accounts of the 1876 battle have focused on Custer's ill-fated cavalry. But a new book offers a take from the Indian's point of view On the day of the battle, 6,000 to 7,000 Indians were camped on the flats beside the Little Bighorn River. (Aaron Huey) By Thomas Powers Smithsonian Magazine | Subscribe November 2010 Editor’s note: In 1874, an Army expedition led by Lt. Col. George Armstrong Custer found gold in the Black Hills, in present-day South Dakota. At the time, the United States recognized the hills as property of the Sioux Nation, under a treaty the two parties had signed six years before.

The Grant administration tried to buy the hills, but the Sioux, considering them sacred ground, refused to sell; in 1876, federal troops were dispatched to force the Sioux onto reservations and pacify the Great Plains. That June, Custer attacked an encampment of Sioux, Cheyenne and Arapaho on the Little Bighorn River, in what is now Montana. From This Story [×] CLOSE Each year, the Lakota of the Great Plains commemorate their victory over the United States army at the Battle of the Greasy Grass, better known in American history as the Battle of Little Bighorn Photographs by Aaron Huey Directed and Edited by Kristin Moore [×] CLOSE Indian elders reacted slowly to word that soldiers were on the way—"We sat there smoking," one of them would recall. But their warriors quickly halted the soldiers' initial attack and drove them across the river. Here, a pictograph by Amos Bad Heart Bull. (Amos Bad Heart Bull / Granger Collection, New York) On the day of the battle, 6,000 to 7,000 Indians were camped on the flats beside the Little Bighorn River.

(Aaron Huey) Steep bluffs delayed Lieutenant Colonel Custer's attempt to cross the river and attack the Indian camp from the north, allowing Indian warriors to surround his troops. The U.S. commander "began to suspect he was in a bad scrape," chief Gall would recall. (Aaron Huey) Custer's soldiers never made it across the river. "We circled all around them, swirling like water round a stone," the warrior Two Moons said. A series of short, sharp fights left Custer and all 209 of his men dead, including his brothers Thomas and Boston. (Aaron Huey) Among the U.S. soldiers, Capt. Myles Keogh died with Custer. (Library of Congress) Lieutenant Colonel Custer. (Library of Congress) Marcus Reno, whose men made the initial attack survived a siege on the hill that now bears his name. (The Granger Collection, New York) Among the Indians, chief Gall lost his family—two wives and three children—early in the battle. (National Archives / Art Archive) Black Elk was only 12 at the time of the battle. He would later recall that the river was high with snowmelt from the mountains.

(Getty Images) Along with Black Elk, Iron Hawk was a witness to the grisly end of the fighting. (National Anthropological Archives / NMNH, SI) Estimates of Indian dead range from 30 to 200; stones mark known casualties. (Aaron Huey) After surrendering to the Army in 1877, Crazy Horse was fatally stabbed by a guard at Camp Robinson, Nebraska, during a botched attempt to arrest him. (Amos Bad Heart Bull / Bridgeman Art Library International) Celebrating American Indian Heritage The Battle of the Little Bighorn is one of the most studied actions in U.S. military history, and the immense literature on the subject is devoted primarily to answering questions about Custer’s generalship during the fighting. But neither he nor the 209 men in his immediate command survived the day, and an Indian counterattack would pin down seven companies of their fellow 7th Cavalrymen on a hilltop over four miles away. (Of about 400 soldiers on the hilltop, 53 were killed and 60 were wounded before the Indians ended their siege the next day.) The experience of Custer and his men can be reconstructed only by inference.

This is not true of the Indian version of the battle. Long-neglected accounts given by more than 50 Indian participants or witnesses provide a means of tracking the fight from the first warning to the killing of the last of Custer’s troopers—a period of about two hours and 15 minutes. In his new book, The Killing of Crazy Horse, veteran reporter Thomas Powers draws on these accounts to present a comprehensive narrative account of the battle as the Indians experienced it. Crazy Horse’s stunning victory over Custer, which both angered and frightened the Army, led to the killing of the chief a year later. “My purpose in telling the story as I did,” Powers says, “was to let the Indians describe what happened, and to identify the moment when Custer’s men disintegrated as a fighting unit and their defeat became inevitable.” The sun was just cracking over the horizon that Sunday, June 25, 1876, as men and boys began taking the horses out to graze. First light was also the time for the women to poke up last night’s cooking fire.

The Hunkpapa woman known as Good White Buffalo Woman said later she had often been in camps when war was in the air, but this day was not like that. “The Sioux that morning had no thought of fighting,” she said. “We expected no attack.” Those who saw the assembled encampment said they had never seen one larger. It had come together in March or April, even before the plains started to green up, according to the Oglala warrior He Dog. Indians arriving from distant reservations on the Missouri River had reported that soldiers were coming out to fight, so the various camps made a point of keeping close together. There were at least six, perhaps seven, cheek by jowl, with the Cheyennes at the northern, or downriver, end near the broad ford where Medicine Tail Coulee and Muskrat Creek emptied into the Little Bighorn River. Among the Sioux, the Hunkpapas were at the southern end. Between them along the river’s bends and loops were the Sans Arc, Brulé, Minneconjou, Santee and Oglala. Some said the Oglala were the biggest group, the Hunkpapa next, with perhaps 700 lodges between them.

The other circles might have totaled 500 to 600 lodges. That would suggest as many as 6,000 to 7,000 people in all, a third of them men or boys of fighting age. Confusing the question of numbers was the constant arrival and departure of people from the reservations. Those travelers—plus hunters from the camps, women out gathering roots and herbs and seekers of lost horses—were part of an informal early-warning system. There were many late risers this morning because dances the previous night had ended only at first light. One very large tent near the center of the village—probably two lodges raised side by side—was filled with the elders, called chiefs by the whites but “short hairs,” “silent eaters” or “big bellies” by the Indians. As the morning turned hot and sultry, large numbers of adults and children went swimming in the river. The water would have been cold; Black Elk, the future Oglala holy man, then 12, would remember that the river was high with snowmelt from the mountains. It was approaching midafternoon when a report arrived that U.S. troops had been spotted approaching the camp.

“We could hardly believe that soldiers were so near,” the Oglala elder Runs the Enemy said later. It made no sense to him or the other men in the big lodge. For one thing, whites never attacked in the middle of the day. For several moments more, Runs the Enemy recalled, “We sat there smoking.” Other reports followed. White Bull, a Minneconjou, was watching over horses near camp when scouts rode down from Ash Creek with news that soldiers had shot and killed an Indian boy at the fork of the creek two or three miles back. Women who had been digging turnips across the river some miles to the east “came riding in all out of breath and reported that soldiers were coming,” said the Oglala chief Thunder Bear. “The country, they said, looked as if filled with smoke, so much dust was there.” The soldiers had shot and killed one of the women. Fast Horn, an Oglala, came in to say he had been shot at by soldiers he saw near the high divide on the way over into the Rosebud valley.

But the first warning to bring warriors on the run probably occurred at the Hunkpapa camp around 3 o’clock, when some horse raiders—Arikara (or Ree) Indians working for the soldiers, as it turned out—were seen making a dash for animals grazing in a ravine not far from the camp. Within moments shooting could be heard at the south end of camp. Peace quickly gave way to pandemonium—shouts and cries of women and children, men calling for horses or guns, boys sent to find mothers or sisters, swimmers rushing from the river, men trying to organize resistance, looking to their weapons, painting themselves or tying up their horses’ tails. As warriors rushed out to confront the horse thieves, people at the southernmost end of the Hunkpapa camp were shouting alarm at the sight of approaching soldiers, first glimpsed in a line on horseback a mile or two away. By 10 or 15 minutes past 3 o’clock, Indians had boiled out of the lodges to meet them. Now came the first shots heard back at the council lodge, convincing Runs the Enemy to put his pipe aside at last.

“Bullets sounded like hail on tepees and tree tops,” said Little Soldier, a Hunkpapa warrior. The family of chief Gall—two wives and their three children—were shot to death near their lodge at the edge of the camp.

Question: Little Big Horn, the scene of Custer's last stand, is in which US state?
Answer: Montana