"Mount!" "Dismount!" "Mount!" "Those who wish to make their escape, follow me!"

So spoke Major Marcus Albert Reno on June 25, 1876, at the Battle of the Little Bighorn in present day Montana.

Reno was in command of three companies of the Seventh United States Cavalry Regiment. He had been sent by Lt.-Col. George Armstrong Custer to attack an Indian village that turned out to be the largest encampment of Native Americans ever on the western plains.

The major, having never fought Indians before, suddenly found himself fighting a foe that didn't behave like "civilized soldiers." Reno's experience had been as a Union officer (who achieved the brevet, or temporary battlefield rank, of brigadier-general during the Civil War) who fought Confederates (fellow West Point-trained officers commanding his foe during that war).

In fact, Reno's 140-odd soldiers and scouts began their charge with Reno's nerves on edge. Troopers later wrote that Reno, in fact, took a few drinks from a flask of alcohol he was carrying, apparently trying to build up his courage for battle.

His troopers seemed to have more courage, at first. All Reno said he saw was that "the ground seemed to grow Indians." The Indians were making their war hoops and Reno's men made "whoops" of their own, until Reno said, "Stop that!"

Reno had been told that he would be "supported by the whole outfit" in his charge by the regiment's adjutant, Lt. William Cooke, who had ridden to the river crossing with him as he began his charge. Cooke had then turned to ride to join Custer's five companies who had been riding to Reno's rear.

Reno, logically or not, assumed that "support" would come from his rear. It apparently never occured to him that Custer might be dividing his forces to attack the village from several directions at once to try to create a "panic" in the village.

So Reno looked ahead and saw Indians. Lots of Indians. Behind him, Custer's companies had turned to the right to attack down river, so they were moving far away from Reno and were out of sight. So Reno looked behind him. No sign of Custer and the support he'd been promised; at least no "support" where he expected it to come from.

Reno then did the worst thing he could have done. Without engaging the Indians, he gave up the charge and dismounted his men. He formed skirmish lines --- 3 out of four troopers taking the firing line while the fourth trooper held his own horse and the horses of the other three.

This reduced Reno's firepower by 25% since the horse-holders couldn't join the firing while holding four horses. It also meant that the Indians concentrated their fire on the horseholders (if you could knock one down, the horses would get away and strand their riders on the firing line on foot).

Both sides exchanged fire ineffectively for a half-hour. One Indian rode into and out of the firing line, grabbed a company guidon (flag) and wrapped it around his naked body, under constant fire, without getting hit. One of Reno's sergeants was wounded.

Reno kept looking behind his men. "Where's Custer?" Fearing he was being flanked, he withdrew his column to a well-protected wooded area 1000 yards from the village and off the wide-open plains he had originally dismounted on.

Bloody Knife, a Ree scout, was standing next to Reno and had his head split apart by an Indian round. The blood and brains that splattered Reno created a panic in Reno; an "it could have been me" fear filled Reno.

At this moment, Reno ceased being a United States Army officer. He ordered in rapid succession, "Mount! Dismount! Mount!" You had troopers asking each other what he had said, the confusion of troopers trying to grab their horses and men staying at their firing positions who never heard the mixed commands due to the heavy firing all around them.

Reno mounted and yelled to those who could hear, "Those who wish to make their escape, follow me!" These are not words that have gone done in a military history rich with brave comments like John Paul Jones' "I have not yet begun to fight!"

No. Reno said, "Those who wish to make their escape, follow me!" Hardly inspirational. In fact, the troopers who did ride out behind him threw done their guns when the ammo ran out. They were shot and grabbed from their saddles.

The troopers that made it to the river had to leap from embankments several feet high, ford the river, then climb steep bluffs to get away. A number of men were left behind in the valley; some lived, some died.

Eventually half of Reno's men made it to a bluff and dug in. Captain Fred Benteen and three companies that Custer had sent to the left before sending Reno down the center arrived. They had orders to join Custer's battalion, but decided to stay with Reno's unit instead. Another company brought up the ammunition packs from the rear.

These 7 companies (one did, against Reno's orders, try to ride to Custer only to be turned back by large numbers of Indiana) dug in on the bluff. Many of the men and officers heard heavy gunfire from down river and wondered why they didn't ride toward it (after all, the Indians all had ridden down river for some reason).

At one point, Reno turned to Benteen during the night and suggested, "Let's ride out of here." Benteen said, "What about the wounded?" "They'll have to be left behind," Reno said. Benteen said angrily, "You can't do that!" The matter was dropped. Benteen kept this exchange a secret until 1880 (a year after the court of inquiry.

Two days later the bodies of Custer and his five companies were discovered by General Alfred Terry's relief column.

Almost immediately, blame was spread everywhere. Reno and Benteen had a personal dislike for their commanding officer, so blaming Custer for the regiment's destruction came naturally.

Finally in 1879, in response to public demand and at the prodding of Custer's widow, who blamed Reno for her husband's death, the Army convened a court of inquiry into the disaster.

Reno was on trial. The regiment was on trial. Custer was on trial.

That's where this book takes off. The court transcripts have long been out of print, but now they are available again. Students of the battle will read of officers in 1879, perhaps for the good of the regiment, saying things in support of Reno that are totally different from written statements they made after the battle or in the years following the inquiry.

You'll find officers and scouts making the darnedest statements. Lt. Charles Varnum, in command of the scouts, told the court he had ridden up to Reno during the "retreat" (really a "rout," or a "buffalo hunt" to the Indians; Reno called it a "charge" to the rear) begging "don't let us be routed men!" Reno, according to Varnum, yelled at Varnum to shut up, "I am in command here, sir!"

You'll find Reno saying he had encountered several thousand Indians right off the bat to explain why he gave up the initial charge to form a skirmish line. You'll then read testimony of one of his scouts that initially Reno enountered "only 200 Indians" and, in the scout's opinion, Reno's command could have ridden into the village with ease.

The testimony of some troopers and officers tells of them hearing "heavy gunfire" and "two volleys" (a sign of location and of distress) down river where Custer's battalion was fighting. You then read, incredibly, Reno and Benteen saying they heard absolutley nothing from that direction. In fact, Reno and Benteen said they thought Custer had abandoned them.

The end result of the court of inquiry would exonerate Reno. The court agreed with Reno's claim that "if we had charged into the village, we would be there still." There is much truth to Reno's statement --- the village contained between 2,000 and 5,000 warriors; Indian squaws could be deadly to wounded cavalrymen while protecting their children and their homes as well (Sioux and Cheyenne women interviewed years after the battle admitted to finishing off wounded troopers on Custer's field of battle).

Reno was dishonorably discharged a year later for "conduct unbecoming an officer." He had been publicly drunk and had been playing "peeping Tom" on his commanding officer's daughter.

Reno is a hard man to judge. He had a good record for bravery in the Civil War. His troopers weren't fond of him in the 7th Cavalry because he was a book officer rather than an inspirational leader. And, who knows, how one reacts when faced with a life and death situation is hard to judge 124 years later.

Benteen continued to serve. By all counts he was a brave soldier. He became a brigadier-general himself later on, as did several other Little Bighorn veterans. Benteen is buried in Atlanta, Ga., where a street is named for him.

The book is fascinating reading. You find yourself wanting this lawyer or that lawyer to "ask the question," but they never do. Whether it was by design or not, the impression remains that the inquiry was a white-wash designed to find a scapegoat (Custer) for the Army's greatest defeat at the hands of a native force.

And, of course, not one Sioux or Cheyenne "witness" was called to testify (can't have honest Indians talking about what they'd seen, such as Sitting Bull's comment years later, "I tell no lies. These men who came with Custer were as brave as we ever fought").

I believe this book will appeal to western history buffs and people who enjoy courtroom drama. Actually, Hollywood is missing out on a fascinating story.

Related books:

My review of "In Custer's Shadow: Major Marcus Reno" by Ronald H. Nichols: http://www.epinions.com/content_244441386628

My review of "Tom Custer: Ride To Glory" by Carl F. Day, the story of the general's brother, who was awarded the Medal of Honor twice: http://www.epinions.com/content_238532333188

My review of "Bugles, Banners, And War Bonnets" by Ernest L. Reedstrom, the story of the 7th Cavalry: http://www.epinions.com/content_59344785028

Recommended: Yes