The Fetterman Massacre

Once up a time, long long ago the earth beneath my feet was the last unspoiled hunting ground of the Lakota (or western Sioux). The short version of this complicated story is that gold was discovered in Montana and The Bozeman Trail was built through their sacred land. The United States government convened a peace commission with the Lakota to negotiate reparations, but instead of bargaining in good faith they brought in soldiers. Bravado, hatred, and betrayal abounded and as a result 81 soldiers arrogantly charged a thousand Indian Warriors; the soldiers all died, including Adolph Metzler, a young man believed to have faced this horror with only a bugle. His body was found covered by a buffalo robe; the reason for this tribute remains unknown.

Early every morning Larry and Mattie walk this blood stained battlefield. They’ve done it hundreds, if not thousands of times. It feels very still there, strangely harmonious and peaceful. There is a single tree, deer, antelope, wildflowers, and badger. The only reminders of the massacre are plaques lining the pathway, and wagon ruts made over 120 years ago. Sadly, people are still dying today, they are just very far away, and they’re dying for oil rather than gold. How tragic is it that we as a species haven’t evolved beyond killing one another to get what we want?