Will Dabbs graciously offered to write this honorary Shooting Iron story in memory of the late Mike “Duke” Venturino. As long-time readers will know, Duke was passionate about this particular slice of history and a visit to the site was arguably one of his life’s most impactful field trips. Rest in peace, Duke. —TM
History is a filter through which humanity is sifted. Practitioners of the art relate events of import as cleanly as they are able yet habitually leave a bit of themselves in the telling. I do this inadvertently myself. The end result is invariably tainted.
The real problem is that we are not ourselves unbiased consumers of history. We tend to view historical figures in a binary light. Mother Theresa and Teddy Roosevelt were pretty good. Adolf Hitler and Jeffrey Dahmer, not so much. Reality, however, is seldom quite so tidy.
Paul’s letter to the Romans claims that all have sinned. That’s not just a good idea; that’s the law. In the real world, Mother Theresa quite likely struggled with covetousness, while Hitler undoubtedly loved his dog. Life can be cluttered at times.
In the person of George Armstrong Custer, we see a man who defies ready characterization. Your typical 7th-grade history student might observe that his flowing gold locks and carefully crafted public persona spoke of vanity, while his legendary overconfidence on the battlefield ultimately cost him dearly. Reality was more nuanced.
Smarter folks than I have already spilt rivers of ink on the Battle of the Little Bighorn. My goal is not to reinvent the wheel. I shall rather endeavor to offer some intimate insights that might flesh out the tale a bit. Custer, Benteen, Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, et al. were simply human. Each man had strengths and flaws, all of which synergistically culminated in some 31 dead native Americans, 268 cavalry KIA, and a sea change in the horrific centuries-long war against the American Indians.
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