In 1910, a retired sergeant of the Seventh Cavalry sat down to answer an inquiry about the battles along the Little Big Horn in June of 1876. His name was Stanislaus Roy, and he had served with Company A. Thirty-four years had passed since those days on the plains, and he admitted that some particulars had clouded with time.

But the core of what he committed to paper that year was a survivor's account of the hilltop fight, and he meant to be faithful to it.

Roy began his recollections earlier in the campaign, with the march toward the fateful valley. On the fifth of June, his detachment was caught in a severe snowstorm between the Hart River and Ofallen Creek, a bitter cold that the men would not soon forget. The wagon train, he noted, proceeded no farther than the Powder River and never advanced to the Rosebud.

Along the way, the column came upon Indian graves situated in a hollow between Mile City and the Rosebud. Farther on, between that place and the Rosebud, they found low ground where Indian graves had been placed in the trees. The men of G Troop tore them down, despoiled them, and cast the bones into the Yellowstone.

Some of the soldiers told Lieutenant MacIntosh that G Troop might be sorry for that act. The warning went unheeded.

When the advance began at noon on the twenty-second, the regiment quit a camp in the timber roughly a mile east of the Rosebud's mouth. They cut across the hill and struck the Rosebud some distance from the river, fording it and proceeding up the western bank. Roy noted that this route suggested General Custer had followed a path now marked by a road.

It was generally understood among the men that Bob Jackson and Billy Cross did not ford at the location known as Ford A, and no man recalled observing them in the valley fight or on the western side of the river. There was approximately fifty yards of timber upon the west bank of Ford A.

Reno's advance consisted of Companies G, A, and M, in that order. Having passed the ford, they formed a line. While forming, Roy heard several men exclaim, "There goes Custer."

The general was visible upon the hills to their right, across the river. The command dismounted some two hundred yards in advance of the timber, and the skirmish line proceeded to its point. G was on the right, A next, and M on the left.

Roy was certain there was no timber to the right of their line. Several Indians were in the timber ahead of the right flank and delivered an oblique fire upon the line towards the southwest. The skirmish line extended west from the timber's point.

It was there that Roy saw Charlie Reynolds, the famed scout, dismounted and wounded, a pistol in his hand, attempting to follow the retreat. Roy's own horse was wounded, and the beast became frenzied. He could not guide the animal, yet it bore to the right and carried him through safely.

The order came to fall back from the line. Roy entered the timber about fifty yards to recover his horse. Inside, he encountered Lieutenant Wallace, mounted and leading G Troop out.

Roy asked after his horse, and Wallace told him, "Seize any horse you can obtain, and quit this place."

All exited the southern side of the timber. Roy believed he had been on the skirmish line a full twenty minutes, expending about twenty rounds. Within the timber, he saw Private John M.

Gilbert emerging with four horses, one of them his own. Roy mounted and followed the column, shouting at Gilbert to follow and make haste. He was behind Gilbert and among the most late in quitting the timber.

Approximately seventy-five yards from the timber, he again saw Charlie Reynolds, dismounted and wounded, standing with his pistol in a posture of defiance.

Soon after, Roy's horse was shot through the jaws just back of the mouth. The animal fell, then rose, and Roy remounted. His sling belt was thrown over his head in the fall, and he lost his carbine, leaving him with only his pistol.

He reached the river safely, the water being belly deep to his horse. He commenced at once to ascend the bluff. The horse bled badly, and Roy abandoned him during the climb.

There was talk among the men that Reno would proceed to Custer. Roy approached Captain Moylan and said, "Captain, I am dismounted." The captain replied, "Well, procure one."

About ten minutes after gaining the blufftop, Captain Benteen arrived. Soon after, Captain Weir went out and later returned with the Sioux in pursuit. A heavy fire was maintained until darkness.

Corporal George H. King was wounded the evening of the twenty-fifth and later died of that wound.

That evening, the men constructed breastworks from whatever they could gather. When the firing ceased, Reno approached and directed Moylan to secure a non-commissioned officer and six volunteers for picket duty. Sergeant Fehler refused to volunteer.

Moylan then called upon Roy, and Roy stated he would go if men volunteered. Privates Connor, Gilbert, Braftoft, McClure, and Harris stepped forward. Roy reported to Reno for orders.

Reno instructed them to slip out singly, as the Sioux were still galloping about. He directed that two men remain awake at a time and converse to ensure it, and that if fired upon at dawn, they should scatter for the breastworks. The pickets executed the duty precisely, and at dawn, when the Sioux opened fire, they retired to the line in good order.

Roy was later complimented for this duty.

Fighting recommenced at daylight on the twenty-sixth and was most severe until about ten o'clock. The men watched the Sioux riding around them by the hundreds. Their fire cut down all the sagebrush before them.

On the morning of the twenty-sixth, the citizen packer F. C. Mann was killed behind the breastwork on a company's line.

He was found stone dead, struck in the temple whilst aiming his carbine, having not moved from his position.

Thirst became extreme. The men chewed grass to produce saliva. Private Cornelius Cowi went insane from thirst, and they were forced to tie him fast.

Following Benteen's charge, the cries for water grew loud. At length, the officers stated that men might step forward. Nineteen men volunteered, though the officers deemed twelve sufficient.

They carried two canteens per man and several camp kettles. Sergeant Fehler was one of the sharpshooters covering the effort.

To descend, they ran across an open space of about one hundred yards to gain a ravine which concealed them to the river's edge. The ravine mouth was twenty yards from the water. They numbered themselves off in the ravine.

Private Michael Madden of K Troop was the third man to rush for water and was hit, his leg broken, yet he crawled back unassisted. Roy was the fifth man to dash. The first man returned with a kettle, and they all drank.

It was their first water in thirty-six hours. Private James Wilbur of M Troop was the fourth and was wounded. After Madden was struck, a pause of half an hour occurred.

They remained in the ravine about an hour in total. In about an hour and a half after starting, they regained the hilltop with water. Lieutenant Varnum was placed as guard over it.

Dr. Henry R. Porter issued it to the wounded, though it was insufficient.

Towards evening, the Indian fire slackened, and they withdrew. That night, the scout Fred Gerard, Bill Jackson, Lieutenant Charles DeRudio, and Private Tom O'Neil came in, occasioning great relief, as the men had supposed them killed.

On the morning of the twenty-eighth, Roy was detailed to help shoot about twenty wounded horses scattered on the bluffs. They then crossed to the Custer Battlefield to bury the dead. The first body encountered was that of Corporal John Foley of C Company.

The next was Sergeant Butler. Roy assisted in burying men on the west slope of the ridge, concluding with men near the gully. The stench sickened him, and he sought the river for a drink.

In reflecting upon those days, Roy wrote that the paramount facts remained the steadfastness of the men on the hill and the terrible price paid in the valley below. His role, he insisted, was but a small part. Yet the memory of those who fell and the shared ordeal of those who endured stayed with him always.

He signed the letter respectfully, as Stanislaus Roy, Sergeant, Company A, Seventh Cavalry, retired.