One of the most cited eyewitness accounts of George Armstrong Custer’s final battle was not left by a ranking officer or a famous scout, but by a 24-year-old Italian-born trumpeter who was ordered to ride with Custer, observe the advance, and then leave moments before the regiment rode into the valley of the Little Bighorn. Private John Martin, born Giovanni Martino in Italy in 1852, served as a trumpeter in the U. S. Army’s Seventh Cavalry.
He enlisted in 1873 and was assigned to the regiment, participating in several campaigns before the one that would define his legacy. On June 25, 1876, Martin was called by Captain Frederick Benteen and ordered to report to Lieutenant Colonel Custer as his orderly trumpeter. That morning, the regiment had halted to make coffee after marching through the night, aware that a large number of Native Americans were nearby. Martin later described seeing Custer that morning wearing a blue-gray flannel shirt, buckskin trousers, long boots, and a regulation company hat.
His hair, once worn in long curls, had been cut shorter. The column moved out around 8:30 a. m. Martin rode directly behind Custer for much of the march.
At a deep ravine, Custer left the main body with his scouts to climb to a high point known as the Crow’s Nest to scout for the village described by the scout Bloody Knife. When Custer returned, fresh pony tracks had been found, and it was clear the element of surprise was lost. Martin was ordered to sound the officer’s call, the first trumpet signal of the campaign, which brought the officers to a serious conference. Around noon, the regiment crossed the divide.
Custer ordered Benteen and three troops to move off to the left, then split the remaining command into two columns. Major Marcus Reno took three troops on the left bank of a small stream, while Custer led five troops on the right. Martin continued to ride close to Custer. At one point, the scout Fred Gerard pointed out Indians running between the column and the river.
Custer ordered the scouts to pursue them, but they refused. Custer then signaled Reno and ordered him to cross the river and attack the village, promising full support from the regiment. Reno moved out at a trot. Custer’s column turned right and rode at a gallop down the river, stopping only once to water the horses.
Reaching a large hill, Custer and Martin rode to the top for a view of the valley. From that vantage point, they saw a large village of several hundred tepees, but no warriors in sight. Only women, children, dogs, and ponies were visible. Custer appeared both surprised and pleased, telling Martin, “The warriors must be asleep in their lodges.
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Custer waved his hat to the men below and shouted, “Hurrah, boys! We’ve got them. We’ll finish them up and then go home to our station. ”
The column moved on at a fast pace until reaching a large ravine leading toward the river.
Custer stopped and called Martin over. He ordered him to take a message to Benteen: ride as fast as he could, tell him it was a big village, and bring the ammunition packs. The adjutant, Lieutenant William W. Cooke, quickly wrote the message in a small notebook, tore out the page, and handed it to Martin.
Cooke added that if it were not too dangerous, Martin should return after delivering it; otherwise, he should stay with his company. Martin’s horse was tired, but he set off as fast as possible. The last he saw of Custer’s command, they were riding down into the ravine. Following the trail back, Martin approached the same hill where he and Custer had viewed the village.
Before reaching the top, he heard firing behind him and saw Indians, some waving buffalo robes, others shooting. He described it as an ambush. Near the summit, he encountered Boston Custer, the general’s brother, who asked where the general was. Martin pointed and said he would find him just behind the next ridge.
Boston Custer galloped off. It was the last time anyone saw him alive. From the hilltop, Martin could see Reno’s battalion engaged in battle. Only ten or fifteen minutes earlier, he and Custer had stood there with no Indians in sight.
Now many were riding and firing at Reno’s men, who were dismounted in a skirmish line. Martin’s horse was shot in the hip during his ride, though he did not realize it at the time. He continued searching for Benteen, and eventually met the colonel approaching at a fast trot with his orderly trumpeter. Captain Weir was the nearest officer behind, about two or three hundred yards back.
Martin handed Benteen the message and told him what the general had said: that it was a big village and to hurry. Benteen asked where Custer was. Martin said the Indians they had seen were running and that he supposed the general had already charged through the village. Benteen then pointed out that Martin’s horse was bleeding from the hip.
“You’re lucky it was the horse and not you,” Benteen said. Captain Weir reached them, read the message, and Martin was given another horse to rejoin his company. The pack train was about a mile behind, and Martin noted the mules were coming along, some walking, trotting, and others running. Martin’s account has remained a key historical record of the Battle of the Little Bighorn.
He was one of the last men to see Custer alive, and his testimony provides a rare enlisted man’s view of the final hours of the command. His description of the timing and movements of the battalions has continued to draw attention from historians, particularly his claim that Reno’s men were already engaged in heavy fighting earlier than some official accounts suggested. Martin survived the battle and later provided a detailed account of his experiences, which has become an important source for understanding the events of June 25, 1876.