“Yes; that’s how he got his general’s star in the Regular Army, and thanks o’ Congress besides,” answered Odell. “And wasn’t our own Lieutenant Smith there, too, on Terry’s staff? Sure, he was carryin’ the colors, to cheer on a regiment, when a ball so smashed his shoulder that he never can lift his arm above a level. Terry’s all right. He was a good lawyer before he was a good soldier. Everybody likes him. But he’s never fought Injuns. We all want Custer and you can be sure Sheridan does, too. It’s the president, who be head o’ the Army, that’s ag’in him. He’s talked too freely, I reckon, an’ some o’ Grant’s friends have been hurt by it.”
However, the first week in May, who should arrive but General Custer! Afterwards it was known that he had just escaped being left behind entirely. Finally he had begged to be allowed to go upon the expedition whether he commanded or not. “I appeal to you as a soldier to spare me the humiliation of seeing my regiment march to meet the enemy and I not to share its dangers,” had been his telegram to President Grant.
General Terry had joined in the appeal, and now President Grant had consented. General Custer was to command only his regiment; General Terry was to command the whole column; but, anyway, “Old Curly” would be on hand.
He looked thin and haggard, as if he had worried much. His hair was short, and it could not grow out again before the march. Time pressed. Here it was May, spring had opened, the Indians were afield, every day added to their strength.
The officers’ families and the families of many of the enlisted men moved from the post into the camp. Another Custer also turned up. This was young Armstrong Reed, or “Autie,” the general’s nephew. His mother was the general’s eldest sister. “Autie” was younger than “Bos” and Ned. With a school friend he had come out from the East, to spend his vacation being either scout or soldier, he wasn’t certain which. He and “Bos” were wild to go upon the expedition; many of the soldiers also were eager, and did a little bragging; but the women of the officers’ circle and of Suds Row, they were very sober. They knew that the Sioux were gathering, what the delay had done to change the advantage, and how serious the campaign might be. Mrs. Custer’s eyes seemed to be brimming; and so did Mrs. Calhoun’s, and Mrs. Yates’, and all.
Not until the middle of May were orders issued to break camp. First General Terry and staff arrived from department headquarters at St. Paul. General Alfred Howe Terry, commander of the Department of Dakota, was a tall, soldierly man, with long beard and calm, courteous way. Ned immediately liked his looks.
May 17 was the day for the start. The “General” or call to strike tents was sounded at five o’clock in the morning. The wagon train was sent ahead, escorted by the infantry; but General Terry had directed General Custer to march the Seventh around the parade ground at Fort Lincoln, as a compliment to the “wives and sweethearts” there.
This was kind in General Terry. He had seen how the women were feeling, and he hoped to cheer them up.
Proudly straight sat officers and men, as platoon by platoon, in flashing column of yellow and blue, headed by the band the celebrated Seventh Regiment—“Custer’s Regiment”—of United States Cavalry, rode around and around the Fort Abraham Lincoln parade-ground. The band played “Garryowen”:
Our hearts so stout have got us fame,
For soon ’tis known from whence we came;
Where’er we go they dread the name
Of Garryowen in glory!