Private John Martin, an Italian-born trumpeter with the U. S. Army’s Seventh Cavalry, became one of the few survivors of the Battle of the Little Bighorn on June 25, 1876.
His firsthand account offers a rare, detailed look at the final hours of Lieutenant Colonel George Armstrong Custer’s command and the chaos that unfolded on the plains of Montana.
Martin, born Giovani Martino in Italy in 1852, immigrated to the United States and enlisted in the army in 1873. Assigned to the Seventh Cavalry as a trumpeter, he participated in several campaigns before finding himself at the center of one of the most infamous defeats in American military history. Because Custer dispatched him with a message just before the fighting reached its peak, Martin was among the last men to see the general alive.
His account begins in the early morning hours of June 25, when the regiment halted several miles from the divide between the Rosebud and Little Bighorn rivers. The soldiers had marched through the night and stopped to make coffee. There was little doubt that a large force of Indians was nearby.
For two days, the column had passed through abandoned villages and followed a heavy trail from the Rosebud. The previous day, they had discovered the carcasses of freshly killed and skinned buffalo, a clear sign that hunters were active in the area.
Around 8:00 a. m. , Martin’s captain, Frederick Benteen, called him over and ordered him to report to Custer as his orderly trumpeter.
Martin found the general speaking with an Indian scout named Bloody Knife, who was describing a large village in the valley below, several hundred tepees strong, with roughly 5,000 Sioux. Martin could not understand the scout’s words, but he followed the general’s questions and the interpreter’s replies well enough to grasp the situation.
Custer was dressed that morning in a blue-gray flannel shirt, buckskin trousers, and long boots, with a standard company hat. His yellow hair, once long and curly, was now cut short. After the conversation with Bloody Knife, Custer mounted his horse and rode bareback through the camp, speaking quietly with his officers and issuing orders.
By 8:30, the command was ready to march. The scouts went ahead, and the regiment followed about fifteen minutes later. Martin rode roughly two yards behind the general.
They advanced at a walk for about two hours until they reached a deep ravine, where they halted. Custer left the column with his scouts and rode to a high point called the Crow’s Nest to search for the Sioux village. He was gone a long time.
When he returned, scouts reported fresh pony tracks nearby, and it became clear that the Sioux had already spotted the soldiers in the ravine. Custer immediately ordered Martin to sound officer’s call. For two days, no trumpet had been blown, and every precaution had been taken to hide the march.
Now, secrecy no longer mattered. The officers gathered quickly for a serious conference, then returned to their companies.
The regiment moved on and crossed the divide around noon. Soon after, Custer pointed to the left and spoke quietly to his adjutant. Captain Benteen, with three troops, left the column and rode off in that direction.
Martin wondered where they were going because his own troop was among them.
The rest of the regiment continued in two columns. Major Marcus Reno led three troops on the left, while Custer commanded the other five on the right. Martin rode directly behind the general.
They followed a small stream toward the Little Bighorn River, with Reno’s column on the left bank and Custer’s on the right. Scouts rode in and out constantly, and Custer would listen to them, sometimes galloping off to look at the terrain himself.
At one point, Custer motioned with his hat, and Reno’s column crossed over to join them. Soon they came upon an old tepee containing a dead warrior. It had been set on fire by the Indian scouts.
Nearby, a scout named Fred Gerard spotted Indians between the soldiers and the river and called out that they were running away. Custer ordered the Indian scouts to pursue, but they refused.
Custer then summoned Reno and ordered him to cross the river and attack the village, promising support from the whole regiment. Reno left at once with his three troops, moving at a trot toward the river. Custer’s column followed for a few hundred yards, then swung to the right and moved at a gallop, stopping only once to water the horses.
The general was clearly in a hurry.
After riding a mile or two, they came to a large hill overlooking the valley. Custer took Martin with him to the top, where they could see the village and the valley on the other side of the river. It was a large village, though they could not see all of it.
Several hundred tepees were in plain sight. There were no warriors visible, only some women and children playing, along with a few dogs and ponies.
Custer seemed both surprised and pleased. He remarked that the Indians must be asleep in their tents. He saw no sign of Reno’s column and looked around with his field glasses.
Then he turned in his saddle, took off his hat, and waved it so the men at the base of the hill could see him. He shouted, “Hurrah, boys! We’ve got them.
We’ll finish them up and then go home to our station.”
Custer and Martin rode back down to the troops. The general spoke briefly with his adjutant about what he had seen. They rode on quickly until they came to a large ravine leading toward the river.
Custer pointed down into it and called for Martin. They were about a mile downstream from the hill, roughly three miles from where they had left Reno’s trail.
The general gave his order directly. “Orderly, I want you to take a message to Colonel Benteen. Ride as fast as you can and tell him to hurry.
Tell him it’s a big village and I want him to be quick and to bring the ammunition packs.”
Martin acknowledged and checked his horse, but the adjutant stopped him. “Wait, orderly. I’ll give you a message.”
He wrote quickly in a small book, tore out the page, and handed it to Martin. Then he added, “Now orderly, ride as fast as you can to Colonel Benteen. Take the same trail we came down.
If you have time, and there is no danger, come back, but otherwise stay with your company.”
Martin’s horse was already tired, but he started back as fast as he could. The last he saw of Custer’s command, the men were descending into the ravine, the gray horse troop in the center, all galloping.
Following the trail back, Martin soon reached the same hill where he and Custer had looked at the village. Before he got there, he heard firing behind him. He looked around and saw Indians, some waving buffalo robes, some shooting.
They had been lying in ambush.
As he approached the summit, he encountered Boston Custer, the general’s brother. Boston was riding at a run but checked his horse when he saw Martin and shouted, “Where’s the general?”
Martin pointed behind him. “Right behind that next ridge, you’ll find him.”
Boston dashed off. It was the last time he was ever seen alive.
From the top of the hill, Martin looked down and saw Reno’s battalion in action. Only ten or fifteen minutes had passed since he and Custer had stood there and seen no Indians. Now, large numbers of warriors were riding around and firing at Reno’s men, who were dismounted and formed in a skirmish line.
Martin did not stop to watch. He had to find Benteen.
Some Indians spotted him and opened fire. Several shots were aimed at him, but he was not hit. His horse, however, was struck in the hip, though he did not notice until later.
It was a very warm day, and the horse was hot and struggling. Martin kept going as fast as he could.
He did not know where Benteen was, but he followed the trail back to the place where the horses had been watered and looked around. Soon he saw Benteen’s command approaching. Martin waved his hat and spurred his tired horse, but the animal could not go any faster.
He met Benteen a short distance ahead of his troops. The captain was riding far in front of his column with his orderly trumpeter, moving at a fast trot. Captain Weir was at the head of his troop, about two or three hundred yards behind.
Martin saluted and handed over the message. He repeated Custer’s words: it was a big village, and Benteen was to hurry.
Benteen asked, “Where’s the general now?”
Martin replied that the Indians they had seen were running, and he supposed Custer had charged through the village by then. He was about to mention that Reno was also in action, but Benteen spoke first.
“What’s the matter with your horse?”
Martin said, “He’s just tired out, I guess.”
Benteen looked closer. “Tired out? Look at his hip.”
Only then did Martin see the blood from the wound. Benteen said, “You’re lucky it was the horse and not you.”
Captain Weir had come up by then. Benteen handed him the message to read and told Martin to join his company. Martin was given another horse and rode on with his troop.
The pack train was not far behind, about a mile away, with mules walking, trotting, and running. The column moved faster than the packs could go, and soon the pack train fell out of sight, leaving only a cloud of dust on the horizon.
Martin’s message reached Benteen, but it was too late to change the outcome. Custer and his entire immediate command were wiped out on the slopes above the Little Bighorn. The battle became known as Custer’s Last Stand, a devastating defeat for the Seventh Cavalry and a defining moment in the Plains Indian Wars.
Martin survived the fight and later provided one of the most detailed eyewitness accounts of the day. His testimony preserved the final movements of Custer’s column, the desperate ride with the message, and the confusion that gripped the battlefield. His story remains a vital piece of the historical record, offering a clear window into the last hours of a doomed command.