Sunday, September 13, 2009

Greasy Grass creek

11:15 AM, Sunday 9/13/09, the Java coffeehouse, Twin Falls MT 

Made the Greasy Grass Creek battlefield early afternoon Wednesday 9/10. Greasy Grass creek is what the people native to the high plains of Wyoming & Montana called the river we now refer to as the Little Big Horn. This was a real karmic gut-punch; if you've never been, and get an opportunity, definitely go. And give yourself a full day; there is a lot of hallowed ground to cover, and a lot of information to take in. If you've any imagination at all, the life-and-death reality of what went down there on June 25th & 26th, 1876 will make your heart flutter, and your bones go chill. That must have been one huge "oh, shit" for them poor Wasi'chu, and you can feel it when you stand there and see the last landscape they ever saw...

 The Cheyenne-Lakota camp was in the wooded river bottom in the background.

Most of them were immigrants, many who barely spoke English, or poor farm kids who joined the army for the pay.  And these were the little guys; because of their height (5' 7" or less) they were assigned to the cavalry: over 5’7”, infantry, 5’7” or under, and it was the cavalry for you, because you were considered light enough to not overburden the horse you would be riding.

The battlefield now lies inside the borders of Crow country, and most -if not all- of the memorial staff are Crow, which is a whole 'nuther story, 'cause earlier that century the Sioux had driven the Crow from their homeland in those high plains, which included this Greasy Grass creek valley. Sitting Bull, the medicine man/chief of the Hunkpapa Lakota who was seen as the spiritual leader of the resistance said of this; “we did as the white man does when he want the land.” So in 1876 at least, there was no love lost between the Crow and Sioux; it was Crow scouts employed by the feds that led Custer the Sioux camp on the banks of the Greasy Grass. Some of them were killed in the fighting too, and are memorialized along with the Cheyenne and Lakota warriors killed in the battle. (There were a few Arapaho braves involved as well, but it was evidently just a handful, prisoners of the Sioux, who, when they discovered that their captors were under attack, asked to be released and given their weapons back so they could fight the army too. They were, and they did.) So the "ranger talks" about the battle and the memorial, given by these Crow park rangers every hour or so, are worth the cost of admission by themselves. There is a newer "Indian Memorial" on the site now too; very moving, and definitely in the voice of the Indian people, as opposed to Euro-American historians. All of it, powerful, moving stuff, worth a pilgrimage. So say thousands of people that embark on it every year, from all over the world; China, Germany, Argentina, Nigeria. Worth a thoughtful pause, that. Why? How did the mostly manufactured myth of “Custer’s Last Stand” become a lasting world-wide phenomenon?

First, a little background reality check: it’s now well known that the popular image Custer’s heroic martyrdom is 98% pure pasture fed American bullshit. Custer, whatever his merits as a soldier- and those are controversial to this day- was also a preening, self-absorbed fool who looked good in leather, beautiful blond hair flying in the wind, which made him the darling of a sensationalist press, a fact he was well aware of and skillfully leveraged to his advantage at every opportunity. But on this day, he was simply a military officer who unilaterally disregarded direct commands to wait for reinforcement, and dismissed the expert advice of his Crow scouts, thus grossly underestimating the enemy force. Employing a strategy that worked well for him when he and his troops ambushed and destroyed a small, sleeping Cheyenne winter camp along the Washita river in western Oklahoma eight years before (a “victorious battle” that garnered GREAT press for "The Boy General" as he was often referred to in the press) Custer spread his underfed, poorly supplied and force-march exhausted troops too thin. Armed with single shot carbines and only as much ammo as he could carry per trooper, cut off from the rest of the regiment that was pinned down under heavy fire four miles away, it wasn’t long before he and the 250 troopers under his direct command ran out of ammo, and were overwhelmed. As Sitting Bull –a man famous for bluntly and accurately hitting the nail on the head- said later; “It is said that I murdered Custer.  That is a lie. Custer was a fool, who rode to his death.”

Of course, that’s not the story that got told. But the one that did; wow, what a story! Custer's widow, Elizabeth (“Libbie) Bacon Custer, all but broke when her husband’s bad investments inevitably collapsed (one of which was a scheme to sell cheap, shoddy horseshoes to the army) recovered and died a wealthy woman by writing pop novels about her life with the heroic General Custer. No fewer than four plays dramatizing this pop culture version of events made it all the way to Broadway. And then there was the great showman, William “Buffalo Bill” Cody, the ex soldier hired by the notoriously rapacious 19th century railroad barons to help exterminate the American Bison, who turned actor, impresario and producer, creating Buffalo Bill’s Wild West, a sophisticated theatrical production that became a huge international hit, touring all over the US and Europe. The show typically concluded with a melodramatic depiction of “Custer’s Last Stand", and that is how much of the world was introduced to the Battle of Greasy Grass creek.

So people come to the Little Big Horn Battlefield from all over the world, to touch this myth. What they find when the get there is that there’s nothing mythic about "Custer’s Last Stand". It’s just a story. A melodrama. With Garryowen played on a pennywhistle providing the melody. But if they open their minds and pay attention, there are people and events with genuine, serious mythical street-cred to be found here.

There was reason Custer faced such overwhelming odds at Greasy Grass creek. In the weeks preceding his ill considered attack, many hundreds of Lakota and Cheyenne had fled the appalling conditions and humiliations of the reservations, to join the resistance; a confederation of bands under the leadership Crazy Horse (Ogallala) and Sitting Bull (Hunkpapa), who had so far successfully resisted the forced domestication of the U.S. reservation policies. To those who had agreed to sign treaties and “come in” to the reservations, Sitting Bull said; “You are fools to make yourself slaves to a bit of fat bacon. What treaty has the white man made that he has not broken? I know that the whites will get me at last, but I will have good times until then.” His words, and his Sundance induced vision of soldiers dying and falling into the Lakota camp had touched the hearts of his people. By the time Custer’s regiment caught up with them, this resistance confederation had grown into the thousands, instead of the official military estimate of 800 Custer was working with. Warnings from his experienced scouts that this was the biggest camp they had ever encountered failed to persuade him to hold and wait for planned reinforcements. Big mistake.

But for all of its impact on popular imagination, the Battle of Little Big Horn was the beginning of the end of serious, armed resistance to America’s “Manifest Destiny”. In the immediate aftermath of the battle, Crazy Horse & Sitting Bull made the strategic decision to disband the confederation and flee on separate paths to the north, to escape the military retribution that was sure to be mobilized now. And it was, with vengence; shocked and outraged by Custer’s defeat, and under enormous public and political pressure to end this “Indian Problem” once and for all, the feds threw the entire western command of the army at the now scattered bands. While never quite catching up, the U.S. soldiers were able to successfully destroy or capture all of the Indians winter stores of food and supplies, including most of their horses. While Sitting Bull again managed to resist being forced onto a reservation by fleeing to Canada, most of the rest of the resistance –including Crazy Horse- soon starved, sickened and died, or returned voluntarily to the reservations, and within five years Sitting Bull himself was forced to concede that his way of life –and most of his people- were gone for good.

Oh, and if that "scorched earth" strategy of starving your opponent into submission by destroying everything in your path sounds sounds familiar? Within weeks after Lee’s surrender at Appomattox, General William Tecumseh Sherman was put in charge of all military activities west of the Mississippi; the Sherman of "Sherman's march to the sea" fame was now the army's designated "Indian Problem" guy.  In his defense, he was, after all, a soldier following the orders of his civilian superiors, just as we expect American soldiers to do.  But he despised the way the Indian people -who he came to know well and respect- were repeatedly betrayed by lying, scheming, corrupt politicians, and at least once, upon learning of another egregious example, publicly opined that he "wished congress could be impeached." 

So, humans make myths. Big deal; nothing new there. But I wonder if we couldn’t do a better job of vetting our stories for genuine mythical value? The myth of “Custer’s Last Stand” fell apart almost immediately, well earning the derogatory application of the word "myth"; myth as a pack of lies. But how about this: The world turns, and a proud, free race suddenly faces extinction at the hands of rapacious, treacherous invaders from the east who swallow or destroy everything in their path. But two heroes arise from the people and turn to face the monster; one a mysterious loner who appears from the wild mountains of the north, a warrior possessed of seemingly magical powers to cheat death in battle, who at every turn defeats or escapes the monster, and who ultimately leads his people into the final battle to protect their way of life.  The other a visionary, a shaman who sees and speaks the truth of this world AND the spirit world, a priest-poet whose ritually induced apocalyptic visions are time and time again proven true. And a glorious, victorious final battle, after which the people melt into the wilderness to disappear forever into the spirit world, where they live on in the storied memories of all peoples of the earth.

Now THAT'S a myth worthy of the name.

4 comments:

  1. What wonderful insights and lessons in history...Too bad some of our current politicians don't go back in history to re-live or re-remember previous policy and wars. You are making me really wish I was independently wealthy and could take off, travel and experience...Enjoy and thanks for keeping us informed.
    Lees

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  2. Thank you Lees. I did come through Missouri, but was behind schedule and on a mission. Hope things are going well for you.

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  3. Very interesting, Scott. I have a distant cousin who was with Custer's outfit on that day. Poor farm boy from Pennsylvania. Oddly, one of my best friends also had a cousin who fought with Custer, but he missed the last battle because he was in jail for malingering.

    Nice to see you on the blogosphere. All the best,

    phoebe

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  4. Thanks Phoebe; hope all is well with you.

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