The trumpeter blew the calls, first for officers, then for the first sergeants.
Benteen and two troops of the Ninth Cavalry had come up from Fort Keogh, reaching the Greybull River without seeing any hostile Indians. The guideon-bearer planted the unit colors and stood by them to keep the wind from blowing them down. Benteen filled his pipe and had just lit it when Captain Pope and Lieutenant Bond, acting Sergeant Major Coletrain, and the two first sergeants responded to the bugle call.
“I think we will bivouac here for the night,” Benteen said. Troop commanders, get your sentries posted. First sergeants, see that the horses are cared for.”
“Yes, sir,” all responded.
“Return to your companies. Sergeant Major, you remain,” Benteen said.
Benteen watched as the troop commanders and first sergeants returned to their units. He puffed on his pipe for a long moment before speaking and Coletrain stood by in silence.
Not until the men started unsaddling their horses and getting out their shelter-halves did he speak.
“Sergeant Major, I understand you were at Willow Springs.”
“Yes, sir, I was,” Coletrain replied.
“Tell me about it.”
“Not much to tell, Major,” Coletrain said. “There were thirty of us. We were well mounted and armed, but Sergeant Winston and I were the only two veterans. I was a corporal then. The rest were all raw recruits, and we were taking them to Fort Shaw for training. We had just stopped for lunch when we were attacked by sixty to seventy Lakota.
“With the opening shots, ten of the recruits threw down their weapons and ran.” Coletrain was silent for a moment. “It was such a damn fool thing for them to do. The Indians had sport with them, running them down easily, then clubbing them or running them through with lances.
“The rest of the men stayed, whether because they knew it was the right thing to do, or because they saw what happened to the ones who ran, I don’t know. But they stayed, and we formed a circle. Some of the men, despite being raw recruits, were pretty good shots, and we held the Indians off for the rest of the day, though we had three more killed and another eight wounded.
“Come night time, we pulled out, but we ran into the Indians at least three more times during the night. We exchanged fire with them every time. Sergeant Winston was killed during one of the nighttime fights. Finally, we reached Fort Shaw just before dawn, bringing our wounded with us. But in all, we lost fourteen killed.”
“What were the Indian casualties?” Benteen asked.
“Yes, sir, I knew that’s where you were going with this. The next day a reconnaissance in force retraced our route, they brought back all of our dead, all them had been scalped and mutilated, but they did not find any Indian bodies. So the official report says that there were no Indian casualties at all.”
“Is that true?”
“No, sir, it isn’t true,” Coletrain said. I personally saw nine Indians killed, and that was just on my side of the defensive circle. Winston told me he saw as many himself, though some of them might have been the same ones I saw. But without any proof, the official report remained—no Indians killed.”
“No Indians killed,” Benteen repeated.
“That was the report, yes sir.”
“You may wonder why I asked you about this,” Benteen said. “I asked you about it because many of the officers and men of the Sixth Cavalry have taken great delight in telling me that story. They use it to point out that nearly half of your platoon ran at first contact, and that the rest of the men did nothing more but hold on until they could run away come nightfall. All that, and not one Indian killed. It is proof, they say, that colored soldiers can’t be depended on in a fight. I wanted to hear it from your own lips.”
“Major, as God is my witness, I have told you the truth. I can only guess at how many Indians were killed, but I know there were at least fifteen or more.”
“Which is nearly as many men as you lost,” Benteen said.
“Yes, sir. But considerably less than Custer lost.”
Benteen blinked a couple of times, then nodded. “You are right about that, Sergeant Major,” he said.
“You are right about that. And, if it is any consolation to you, I believe you.”
“Thank you, Major.”
“What is the mood of the troopers?” Benteen asked.
“It’s very good, Major. Many have been in battle before, and the ones who have not been in battle are looking forward to it. And, Major, if you don’t mind my saying so, they feel good because you are our commanding officer. Even the rawest recruit knows that there is no one in the army with more experience than you.”
“That may be true, Sergeant Major. But not all my experiences have been positive ones,” Benteen said.
When Major Benteen brought the Ninth Cavalry through town, the townspeople turned out to welcome them.
The volunteer firehouse band played stirring marches and the soldiers rode in close formation. As they passed the mayor’s office, Benteen ordered eyes right, and the guideon-bearers dipped their colors as the soldiers in every file except the extreme right file turned their eyes right in salute.
“Damn,” Regret said. “Did you see them soldiers? They’re all colored.”
“All the better,” Bellefontaine said.
“Why all the better?”
