grief with which one fair young wife threw herself on the carpet and pillowed her head in the lap of a tender friend. Maggie sat dejected at the piano, and struck soft chords that melted into the sounds of the voices. All were absorbed in the same thoughts, and their eyes were filled with faraway visions and longings. Indescribable yearning for the absent men, and untold terror for their safety, engrossed each heart.”
“Lorena, would you be a dear and stand on the porch just outside the front door, telling our guests that they don’t have to knock? They can just come right on in.”
“Yes, I would be glad to,” Lorena said.
“What about the chaplain?” Margaret asked.
“I’m afraid we are going to be on our own, Maggie,” Libbie replied. “The chaplain must conduct Sunday services for the troops who have remained in garrison. But I will read from the prayer book. We won’t be able to celebrate the Eucharist, but that certainly doesn’t mean that we won’t be in communion with one another.”
“And with our husbands,” one of the other ladies said.
“Yes,” Libbie answered. “And with our husbands.”
One by one, the wives of those who were on the scout with Custer arrived at the commandant’s house. It was not only the officers’ wives who came, but the wives of the NCOs as well, including some who were post laundresses and to whom clung the sharp smell of lye soap.
Libbie read a few lines from the Book of Common Prayer; then someone suggested that they share some of the letters from their husbands. Libbie started it by reading her latest letter from Custer; then Maggie read one from her husband, Jimmi Calhoun.
“Lorena got a letter from Tom, but I won’t embarrass her by asking her to read it,” Libbie said.
“Oh, read it, please do,” one of the other ladies said, and blushing, Lorena agreed to read but one paragraph. Retrieving the letter, she cleared her throat and began to read:
Lorena looked up and saw the smiles on the faces of all the wives.
“Miss Wood, I can only say that, if you marry a soldier, be prepared to be lonely, for that is the lot of a soldier’s wife,” one of the others said.
“Maggie, if you will play the piano, we can sing a hymn, then all return to our homes and think of, and pray for, our husbands who are so far away from us now.”
Maggie sat at the piano and began to play the hymn “Nearer My God to Thee.” The ladies sang:
Libbie finished her story by actually singing some of the hymn. Rosie joined with her then. Smiling through her tears, Libbie finished singing.
“You have a very sweet voice, my dear,” she said to Rosie. “Remembering your namesake, I am not surprised. You come by it honestly.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Custer,” Rosie said.
“Falcon, I interrupted your story. Please continue.”
“Where did I leave off?” Falcon asked.
“General Custer had just divided his regiment into three battalions,” Zane Grey answered.
“Oh, yes. Shortly after he divided the regiment into three battalions, they reached the creek that was known then as Ash Creek, but is now known as Reno Creek. Custer ordered Benteen to take his D, H, and K troops and head south to a line of bluffs about two miles off, at an angle of forty five degrees; to send a well-mounted officer and ten men in advance; and to pitch into any Indians he might find. He was also told to notify Custer at once if he saw anything.
Falcon watched as Benteen and his battalion started off toward the south toward the line of bluffs that blocked any view of Indians who might be there.
A rider approached Major Reno.
“Major, General Custer requests that you ride down the left side of the creek, while he rides down the right side,” the rider said.
