Charles Windhoff, a private in Company L of the Seventh Cavalry, was one of the few survivors of the Battle of Little Bighorn, and his detailed account of the June 25, 1876, engagement remains one of the most thorough firsthand records of the disaster. A German immigrant who enlisted in 1872, Windhoff served five years and received the Medal of Honor for his actions that day, but his greatest legacy is the precise, unflinching narrative he left behind of the battle that wiped out George Armstrong Custer’s command. Windhoff rode with Major Marcus Reno’s battalion, not Custer’s, and his account captures both what he saw directly and what he later pieced together from other survivors about the fight that annihilated five companies of the Seventh Cavalry. He began his story with the regiment’s approach on that Sunday.
As the column crossed the divide between the Rosebud and the Little Bighorn rivers, the soldiers understood that a substantial force of hostiles was positioned roughly twelve to fifteen miles west, yet the exact numbers remained unknown. Windhoff noted a critical miscalculation: while Indian scouts estimated several thousand hostiles in the camp, Custer and most officers believed they would face only 1,000 to 1,500 warriors, probably poorly armed. They expected the Indians to flee. Instead, they encountered a force that may have doubled their estimates, outnumbering the 600 cavalrymen by as much as five to one.
Custer had planned a surprise dawn attack on June 26, but the plan collapsed when hostile scouts spotted the column, forcing an immediate strike. Windhoff’s battalion, under Captain Frederick Benteen, was sent to scout the rough hills to the south and west. The terrain was demanding, and as they climbed hill after hill, Lieutenant Gibson signaled back that he saw no signs of Indians. Even the troopers believed the mission was pointless.
After two hours, Benteen’s men turned back onto Custer’s trail, relieved to return to the small valley. Along the way, the pack train’s lead mules became trapped in a bog, underscoring the slow progress the mule train was making. As they pushed forward, they detected distant gunfire ahead. Captain Thomas Weir took his company forward, and the men understood they would soon be in combat.
Shortly after leaving the swamp, they passed a burning teepee, likely ignited by their own Indian scouts. The horses sensed danger and grew agitated. They encountered Sergeant Knipe of Tom Custer’s troop, carrying orders for Captain McDougall to hurry the pack mules, and not long after, they met trumpeter John Martini, injured but delivering Custer’s urgent message for Benteen to bring the packs forward. Windhoff remembered Martini as a spirited little Italian who had once served as a drummer boy with Garibaldi in the struggle for Italian independence.
The men had joked with him kindly before that day but never would again. His horse was bleeding heavily from a bullet wound in its right hip, though Martini himself seemed unaware of the injury. Benteen told him to return to his company, believing that Sergeant Knipe had already relayed the message to McDougall. In any case, Martini’s horse was spent, and he struggled to keep up with the column.
The sound of heavy firing grew louder, and they soon met Crow and Ree scouts herding a few Indian ponies. The scouts yelled “Soldiers! ” and gestured toward the bluffs to the north. Windhoff realized they were approaching the valley of the Little Bighorn and that intense fighting was occurring nearby.
Benteen ordered the men to draw their pistols, and they charged up the bluffs at a gallop, expecting to meet hostiles at any moment. When they reached the top of the first series of rolling hills, the river valley opened suddenly before them. The scene, Windhoff wrote, was sufficient to instill fear into the hearts of the most courageous men. About 150 feet below and roughly half a mile away, shapes on horseback were racing madly with gunshots echoing everywhere.
Further along the river, large groups of mounted men, believed to be Indians, were gathered. Windhoff then paused his direct retelling of what happened next, noting that he had not witnessed the events involving Major Reno’s battalion firsthand. What follows is his account of the battle as told by survivors, which he acknowledged hearing so many times that he could convey it in the most straightforward way possible. Around 12:15 p.
m. , Reno was placed in charge of three troops, seventeen Crow and Ree scouts, and three white scouts. Custer, leading five troops, continued to the right while Reno’s column moved to the left. Benteen’s three troops were sent to scout the hills to the southwest, which is why Windhoff did not see what transpired over the next five hours.
The two battalions descended into a dry creek bottom, occasionally coming within fifty yards of each other and at other times being as far as two hundred yards apart, both columns trotting westward toward the Little Bighorn. Around 2:00 p. m. , they found a burning teepee holding the body of an Indian warrior slain in General Crook’s fight with the Indians only a week before, less than twenty miles away.
One of the white scouts called ahead to Custer that hostiles were close but remained outside rifle range. Custer then signaled Reno to ford the creek and directed Adjutant Cook to order Reno toward the Little Bighorn, two miles further west, then assault the Indian village with the expectation that the whole force would support him. Windhoff noted that this final point has long been a disputed matter in the tragic events that followed. Reno led his force of about 120 men, along with a few guides and scouts, at a quick trot, crossing the Little Bighorn and stopping only to water their horses and reform in troop formation on the west bank.
The valley there was reasonably flat, running half a mile to a mile in breadth to a low plateau in the west. On the opposite side, the Wolf Mountains rose sharply, with coulees cutting from the bluffs down to the river bottom. The river ran clear and cold, roughly 100 to 150 feet wide with a gravel bottom. For nearly three miles along the west bank, the Indian camps were spread out, with each of the five Sioux tribes, along with the Cheyenne, Blackfoot, and Arapaho, occupying distinct circles spaced about a quarter-mile apart.
To the west, vast pony herds grazed, watched by Indian boys and women. Windhoff estimated that about 10,000 Indians were present, nearly a third of all Sioux tribesmen, including 2,000 to 3,000 warriors. He took the opportunity to correct a widespread misunderstanding about the hostiles’ weapons: not every warrior was equipped with modern repeating Winchesters and plentiful ammunition. In his judgment, half of the warriors carried only bows, arrows, and lances.
Of the rest, half used old muzzle-loaders, single-shot rifles, and miscellaneous arms. Only about twenty-five to thirty percent owned modern repeating rifles. He also noted that Indian boys age fourteen and older went with the warriors and participated actively in the battle, especially in its later phases. The soldiers, meanwhile, carried single-shot .
45-70 caliber Springfield carbines, a weapon prized for accuracy and lethality up to six hundred yards. But under rapid fire, the breech would become dirty, and the greasy cartridges would frequently jam, refusing to be pulled out by the extractor. Troopers often had to pry out the empty shell with a hunting knife, a process Windhoff said cost the lives of many a soldier that day. Each soldier also carried a six-shot single-action Colt Army revolver, the newest model then available, along with one hundred rounds of rifle ammunition and twenty-four rounds of revolver ammunition.
As the troopers dismounted and every fourth man held the horses, many mounts were stampeded, resulting in the loss of thousands of rounds of crucial ammunition, especially for Custer’s men. Reno’s battalion, after crossing the river, formed a line in columns of fours, with the Indian scouts on the left. Soon, Indian horsemen were observed riding wildly back and forth in the valley, and the southern edge of the camps became visible. Reno deployed his three troops and scouts into a skirmish line spanning the width of the narrow valley, with Troop M on the right, A in the middle, and G on the left.
He dismounted the men, spacing them about seventy-five yards apart. They advanced half a mile toward the camp before meeting a large group of mounted Indians who rushed down upon them. For ten minutes, Reno’s men held their position and fired continuously, but they were quickly surrounded by hundreds of mounted Indians, many wielding repeating rifles. Realizing they risked being encircled, Reno ordered a retreat, mounting the men in good order and pulling back three hundred yards.
The Indians again rushed down, and Reno formed another skirmish line, dismounting the men and holding for another ten minutes. But the Indians pressed in from all directions, firing at close range and causing serious losses. Fearing total envelopment, Reno ordered a fallback to a grove of cottonwoods half a mile to the rear. In the turmoil, many troopers became separated from their companies.
The horses stamped, and the men broke in wild disarray. It was there, Windhoff wrote, that the greatest casualties occurred. Troopers were shot off their horses, killed instantly or mutilated and scalped. The survivors crossed the river in confusion, climbing a steep hill on the east bank, closely pursued by hundreds of mounted Indians.
Between fifteen and twenty soldiers died in the river and along its bank. Once Reno’s men reached the hilltop, the Indians pulled back. Around 2:30 p. m.
, Captain Weir’s troop arrived, followed closely by Benteen’s troops H and K. Reno’s forces were in disorder, but the reinforcements restored some order. Benteen quickly assessed the situation and ordered defensive positions. They were soon joined by Captain McDougall’s troop B and the pack train, bringing much-needed ammunition and supplies.
The combined forces dug in on the hill, preparing for a desperate defense. Custer, meanwhile, had continued down the river with his five troops, attempting to flank the village. As they rode north along the bluffs, they encountered the main body of the hostiles near the northern end of the valley, close to the present-day site of the national cemetery. There, the full extent of the Indian force became clear.
Custer’s men, overwhelmed by sheer numbers, were surrounded and killed, fighting to the last man. That evening, Reno and Benteen’s forces on the hill heard the distant sounds of battle and understood the terrible fate that had likely befallen their comrades. They spent the night in anxious waiting, enduring occasional skirmishes as the Indians probed their defenses. By morning, the Indians began to withdraw, having achieved a decisive victory.
The survivors of the Reno and Benteen battalions were finally relieved by General Terry’s column two days later. Windhoff’s account concludes with the simple acknowledgment that the Battle of the Little Bighorn remains a deep and tragic chapter in American history, and the courage and endurance of soldiers like himself, who lived to tell the story, offer a moving look at the harsh truths of frontier warfare.