Billings – Custer and his Stand

One event and two settings gave today its tone. The event took place 25^th June 1876 and it was The Battle of Little Big Horn. The setting were a re-enactment of the famous battle just outside the town of Hardin and a visit to the actual site of the battle some twenty miles to the south close to the River Little Big Horn a tributary of the Big Horn River.

When we arrived in Hardin we found the town “en fete” with street vendors selling home made produce and ice cream. We had coffee and blueberry pie in a Mennonite café, where the ladies wear nineteen seventies Laura Ashley dresses and a black bun cover on the backs of their heads, very chatty and helpful.

The re-enactment site was about five miles out of Hardin, to the west next to a busy railway track. The final part of the journey to the annual re-enactment was along a very dusty dirt road, which made all our Morgans the same colour a light tan brown. The stage was set; a semi circle of grandstands had been erected; all the flags of the Union fluttered in the heat of scorching breeze. Many of us brought umbrellas to provide a welcome area of shade. A little late a tableau was performed if front of us depicting the colonisation of the West and the eventual clash of cultures resulting in armed conflict between the US Army and the various Indian tribes that formed an alliance of war. The battle scene was acted out with great gusto; lots of noise, gunfire, sweat and enthusiasm. If I spoil the end for you I apologise, but poor old Custer lost yet again he was the last man standing, with a pistol in each hand he met his fate along with his men. The final speeches were drown out by the sound of a passing goods train at least a mile long each section of which was designed to make more noise than the previous. All was rounded up with a rendition of the National Anthem.

A couple of us drove south to the site of the actual battle. It is a sombre scene made all the more relevant by the fact that we were there at the same time it had taken place one hundred and thirty four years previously. A small white marker point out the spot where each man fell and was buried. The site was crowded with the descendents of both parties to the conflict.

On a much happier note that night we celebrated Cathy Tollworthy’s birthday with an imported Chinese meal and a many a toast and song particularly from her husband George.