Charles Windolph was a private in Company L of the Seventh Cavalry when he rode into the fight that would define his life. An immigrant from Germany who had joined the army in 1872, he served five years and would later receive the Medal of Honor for his conduct during the battle. His account of what happened on June 25, 1876, became one of the most detailed and reliable eyewitness narratives of the Battle of the Little Bighorn. On that fateful Sunday, near noon, Windolph and his regiment crossed the divide between the Rosebud and Little Bighorn Rivers.
The Seventh Cavalry, about six hundred men, moved west in a marching column, with troopers riding four abreast and gaps of fifty to sixty feet between companies. The column suddenly halted, and Lieutenant Benteen received orders to take his company, along with companies D and K, to reconnoiter the hills and engage any enemy they found. General Custer kept three companies with himself, including Windolph’s, while Major Reno was sent forward with two companies and most of the Indian scouts under Lieutenants Varnum and Hare. The regiment was split into detachments to hunt a large Indian force believed to be twelve to fifteen miles west.
The scouts suspected several thousand warriors were ahead, but Custer and most of his officers estimated they faced twelve to fifteen hundred poorly armed fighters at most. They expected the enemy to conduct a rear-guard action and then flee. Instead, they were riding toward a force perhaps twice their estimate, outnumbering Custer’s six hundred men by as much as five to one. Custer had planned a dawn attack on June 26, but when enemy scouts spotted his column, he decided to strike immediately.
Benteen, commanding the three detached companies, moved out front to scout. The terrain was rough, punishing the horses, and from hill after hill Lieutenant Gibson signaled back that he saw no trace of Indians. Even the troopers in the ranks began to believe the mission was futile. After two hours, Benteen’s command turned back to rejoin Custer’s track.
Relieved to return to the valley, they continued west along a small stream where the pack mules got stuck in a swamp, slowing the supply train. As they departed, they heard distant gunfire ahead. Captain Weir led his company forward, with Benteen ahead of him. Everyone understood a battle was near.
Shortly after leaving the swamp, they passed a burning tipi, likely set by their own scouts. The horses sensed danger and grew restless. They met Sergeant Knipe from Tom Custer’s company, delivering an order for Captain McDougall to hurry the pack mules forward. Benteen ordered him back the way he had come.
Then they saw bugler Martini, wounded but carrying a message from Custer to Benteen to bring supplies quickly. Martini, an Italian who had served as a drummer with Garibaldi in the Italian war of independence, was known to Windolph, who had joked with him often before the battle. Martini’s horse was bleeding heavily from a bullet wound in the leg, though the bugler did not know it. Benteen told him to rejoin his company.
The heavy gunfire grew louder, and soon they met several Crow and Arikara scouts leading a few Indian horses. The scouts shouted “Soldiers! ” and pointed toward the high rocky bluffs to the north. The troopers drew their revolvers and pushed toward the bluffs, expecting to meet the enemy face-to-face.
When they reached the first rolling hilltop, the valley of the river suddenly opened to the left. The scene before them was enough to shake the bravest men. About a hundred and fifty feet below, about half a mile away, riders were galloping wildly in every direction, gunfire ringing out. Farther down the river, they saw large masses of riders they took to be Indians.
As they rode at speed, they caught sight of soldiers mounted and dismounted on a hill to the north and raced toward them, their hearts pounding. Windolph then recounted the fate of Reno’s command, a story he had heard from survivors, since he had not witnessed it himself. At about 12:15, Reno took three companies and scouts toward the left, while Custer’s five companies swung right. As the two battalions descended into the dry creek bed, they sometimes came within fifty yards of each other, then separated by as much as two hundred.
Around two o’clock, they found a burning lodge containing the body of a warrior killed in General Crook’s fight with the Indians a week earlier, less than twenty miles away. A white scout warned Custer that the enemy was near, staying just out of rifle range. Custer ordered Reno to cross the creek and attack the Indian village from the right, with the understanding that the whole force would provide support. That final phrase became a point of bitter dispute about the tragedy to come.
Reno led his force of about one hundred twenty men, accompanied by a handful of guides and scouts, at a quick trot, crossing a ford of the Little Bighorn and pausing only to water the horses and form up on the west bank. The west side was a fairly flat valley, half a mile to a mile wide, leading to a low plateau. On the opposite bank, the Wolf Mountains rose steeply, with ravines cutting from the bluffs to the river. The river ran clear and cold over a gravel bed.
For nearly three miles along the west bank stretched the Indian camps of all five Sioux tribes, with Cheyenne, Blackfoot, and Arapaho in separate circles about a quarter mile apart. Huge herds grazed to the west, guarded by boys and women. Estimates placed about ten thousand Indians there, nearly one-third of all Sioux men, including two to three thousand warriors. Windolph took the opportunity to correct a common belief about the enemy’s weapons.
Contrary to popular assumption, not all warriors carried modern repeating rifles. In his estimate, half of the warriors carried only bows and arrows and lances. Of the rest, half used old-fashioned muzzle-loaders and single-shot rifles. Only twenty-five to thirty percent had modern rapid-fire weapons.
Another notable detail: Indian boys aged fourteen and above accompanied the warriors and fought actively, especially in the later stages. The troopers were armed with Springfield carbines, single-shot . 45-70 weapons famous for accuracy and lethality up to six hundred yards. But when fired rapidly, their extractors failed, and the greasy cartridges often jammed.
Soldiers had to force the spent rounds out with their hunting knives, a procedure that cost many lives that day. Each man also carried a single-action Colt six-shot Army revolver. Orders required each soldier to carry one hundred rounds for the carbine and twenty-four for the revolver, either on their persons or in saddlebags. When troops dismounted and every fourth man held the horses, many frightened horses bolted, and thousands of rounds of desperately needed ammunition were lost, especially for Custer’s men.
After Reno crossed the river, his men formed a line in columns of four, with the Indian scouts on the left. Indian horsemen were seen riding madly back and forth across the valley, and the southern end of the Indian camps came into view. Reno deployed his three companies and the scouts into a skirmish line covering the width of the narrow valley, with Company M on the right, Company A in the center, and Company G on the left, with scouts advanced on their left front. Reno ordered his men to dismount, forming a skirmish line with seventy-five yards between each soldier.
After advancing half a mile toward the village, they met a large body of mounted Indians who swept down on them. For ten minutes Reno’s men held their positions and fired steadily, but they were soon surrounded by hundreds of mounted Indians, many using rapid-fire rifles. Recognizing the danger of encirclement, Reno ordered a retreat, remounting the troops in order and falling back three hundred yards. The moment they did so, hundreds of mounted Indians rushed them again.
Reno formed his companies into a skirmish line, dismounted again, and held their ground, firing steadily for another ten minutes. But the Indians pressed in from all sides, closing in and inflicting heavy casualties. Fearing full encirclement, Reno ordered his men to withdraw to a grove of cottonwood trees half a mile to the rear. In the confusion, many soldiers lost contact with their companies.
The horses panicked and the men scattered in complete disorder. The heaviest losses happened there. Many troopers were knocked from their saddles, killed on the spot or killed and scalped. The survivors crossed the river in confusion and climbed a steep bluff on the east bank while hundreds of mounted Indians chased them.
Fifteen to twenty soldiers died in the river and on its banks. As Reno’s men reached the top of the bluff, the Indians fell back. At this critical moment, about 2:30 in the afternoon, Captain Weir arrived with Company D, closely followed by Companies H and K under Benteen. Reno’s force was scattered, but reinforcements restored some order.
Benteen assessed the situation quickly and ordered his men into defensive positions. Soon Captain McDougall’s Company B and the supply train joined them, bringing ammunition and provisions they desperately needed. The combined forces dug in on the bluff for a desperate defense. Meanwhile, Custer had advanced along the river with his five companies, trying to flank the Indian village.
Riding north along the bluffs, they met the enemy’s main force. At the northern end of the valley, near the site of the present Custer National Cemetery, the full scale of the Indian forces became apparent. Custer’s men were overwhelmed by the sheer numbers of warriors, surrounded and killed, fighting to the last man. By evening on the bluff, Reno and Benteen’s troops could hear the sound of the distant battle, understanding the terrible fate their comrades had likely met.
They spent the night in anxious watchfulness with intermittent skirmishing as the Indians probed their defenses. By the next morning, the Indians began to withdraw, having won a decisive victory. The survivors of Reno and Benteen’s battalions were finally relieved by General Terry’s column, which arrived two days later. The Battle of the Little Bighorn remained a profound and tragic episode in American history.
The courage and resilience of soldiers like Charles Windolph, who survived to tell his story, offered a moving glimpse into the harsh realities of the frontier wars. His account provided a detailed and vivid perspective on one of the most famous battles of the Great Sioux War of 1876.