Post by Beth on Jul 29, 2017 23:13:02 GMT
Source Williston Herald with a picture of Gerry Schultz as Thompson
A flood in 2007 brought to light a manuscript that has changed a Montana man’s life, and given him a passion for a last stand of his own.
Gerry Schultz, of Bloomfield, Montana, has become a well-known re-enactor of Pvt. Peter Thompson, most recently at the Fort Buford Military Encampment. Thompson was one of the only survivors of Custer’s Last Stand.
Schultz was employed by a railroad company when copies of the private’s manuscript came into his hands in a most unexpected way while he was working. Thunderstorms had rolled through eastern Montana, he recalled, washing out Cottonwood Creek and destroying a bridge for the railroad. Schultz and a coworker headed to the general area eight days later to check on some of the railroad’s towers.
They had stopped along the way to take some photographs of the devastation and, while Schultz was waiting on his coworker to finish, he noticed some papers fluttering in the breeze near the high water line.
“There was flood debris all along the Interstate,” he recalled. “Wagon wheels and things like that.”
The papers seemed a bit incongruous, and he could not resist going to pick them up, to see what they were about.
The document
Schultz found two copies of the same manuscript, largely intact, though one was too crumpled to open. They had been drying out in the spring sun, but the wind was tearing at them, slowly but surely.
On the title page he saw the words, “Custer’s Last Fight, The Experience of a Private Soldier in the Custer Massacre by Peter Thompson.” He turned the page of the least crumpled document to scan the first few paragraphs, and was at once captivated by the voice of this narrator, telling his account of Custer’s fateful battle at Little Bighorn.
As a child, Thompson had been to the site of the battle, and his parents had taken him to one of the many re-enactments. He’d learned the bare bones of the battle’s history that youths learn in school.
But here, in his hands, was something else again. With this story, he could see the battle through the eyes of the man who had lived it. He could feel its truth in his bones, and he was transformed by it.
“This has changed my life,” Schultz said, “and fortunately for me, my family accepts it.”
It didn’t take long for Schultz to discover that the compelling account he’d read has been attacked by some historians who have claimed it is the fabrication of a deserter.
Schultz will acknowledge that it is true Thompson’s story doesn’t line up exactly with the timeline suggested by one of the surviving generals, but he believes there are other reasons for that. Thompson’s account does match up quite well with other, independent eyewitness accounts, which Schultz has been painstakingly charting on a map he has put together of the relevant areas.
In Thompson’s account, for example, he tells how his and another man’s horse had given out and they were kicking the horses, trying to get them going again. Custer went ahead without the two men, ordering them to follow on foot as best they could, to the battle site.
A different eyewitness account, by someone who did not know Thompson or the other man, tells of seeing the two men in the distance, kicking horses that had evidently given out. The location and timing that narrator gives is consistent with Thompson’s account.
In Thompson’s account, he tells how he did try to get to the battle scene, but was ultimately blocked by a bluff, which forced him to circle back and seek a way around it. Meanwhile, American Indians were also traveling in the area, and he was forced upon occasion to hide from them.
He didn’t make it to the appointed battle area before Custer’s cause had already been lost.
Many details of Thompson’s account are corroborated by other eyewitness accounts, Schultz said, and from this he believes the soldier’s account is more likely true than not.
“Being the only survivor of a massacre is not an easy place to be,” Schultz said. “And that raised suspicions in people’s minds. But in my mind I have proven his account by corroborating it with so many other independent accounts.”
Thompson’s story
Thompson, despite any suspicions that may have existed at the time, did receive the Congressional Medal of Honor for actions he took the next day, which Schultz believes illuminates the man’s true character as an American hero, and to him lends further credence to Thompson’s account.
The private had been among soldiers gathered early on the morning of June 26 atop Reno Hill to stop Indians from coming up a ravine and attacking the position. In the history books, this is referred to as Benteen’s first charge, of three made.
Thompson and the 13 other troopers were to run up a hill to the edge of the bluff and head of the ravine. The private was among the first to reach the area and consequently was shot. The bullet traveled up his middle finger, into his right hand and arm, before lodging in his elbow.
He was treated for the wound as best a camp doctor could do, but of course could not shoot any more. His weapon was given to another who could still use it.
With no clear job to do any more, Thompson happened upon another wounded soldier and knelt to ask if he could do this soldier any service.
“Water, Thompson,” the soldier replied. “Water, for God’s sake!”
Thompson didn’t hesitate. He might not be able to shoot a gun any more, but he could surely get some water for his fellow, wounded soldiers.
So he gathered up two canteens and a camp kettle, and headed back to the ravine where he’d been wounded. He was stopped by a Sgt. Kanipe who tried to dissuade him from such risky action, certain he could not make it back alive.
It was indeed a risky mission. Thompson was fired upon multiple times as he made the trip to bring back water for the wounded. One of the bullets carved a 3-inch furrow in his right scalp.
Nonetheless, he made four trips in all for water that day, and inspired others to join his efforts to ensure that all the wounded at least would not suffer from thirst.
Second Lt. Winfield Edgerly, Co.D, Seventh Cavalry, applied for and obtained a Medal of Honor for Thompson, which was presented Oct. 5, 1878.
In his lifetime, Thompson was vexed by those discounting his story, but his response is one Schultz also repeats.
“Were they there?” Schultz asks. “This is one man’s personal experience. He was there. I believe him. I don’t know why the manuscript came to me the way it did, but there has been an injustice to Peter Thompson, and I want to right the wrongs done to him. There’s virtually no justification for destroying this man. He is a true American hero.”
A flood in 2007 brought to light a manuscript that has changed a Montana man’s life, and given him a passion for a last stand of his own.
Gerry Schultz, of Bloomfield, Montana, has become a well-known re-enactor of Pvt. Peter Thompson, most recently at the Fort Buford Military Encampment. Thompson was one of the only survivors of Custer’s Last Stand.
Schultz was employed by a railroad company when copies of the private’s manuscript came into his hands in a most unexpected way while he was working. Thunderstorms had rolled through eastern Montana, he recalled, washing out Cottonwood Creek and destroying a bridge for the railroad. Schultz and a coworker headed to the general area eight days later to check on some of the railroad’s towers.
They had stopped along the way to take some photographs of the devastation and, while Schultz was waiting on his coworker to finish, he noticed some papers fluttering in the breeze near the high water line.
“There was flood debris all along the Interstate,” he recalled. “Wagon wheels and things like that.”
The papers seemed a bit incongruous, and he could not resist going to pick them up, to see what they were about.
The document
Schultz found two copies of the same manuscript, largely intact, though one was too crumpled to open. They had been drying out in the spring sun, but the wind was tearing at them, slowly but surely.
On the title page he saw the words, “Custer’s Last Fight, The Experience of a Private Soldier in the Custer Massacre by Peter Thompson.” He turned the page of the least crumpled document to scan the first few paragraphs, and was at once captivated by the voice of this narrator, telling his account of Custer’s fateful battle at Little Bighorn.
As a child, Thompson had been to the site of the battle, and his parents had taken him to one of the many re-enactments. He’d learned the bare bones of the battle’s history that youths learn in school.
But here, in his hands, was something else again. With this story, he could see the battle through the eyes of the man who had lived it. He could feel its truth in his bones, and he was transformed by it.
“This has changed my life,” Schultz said, “and fortunately for me, my family accepts it.”
It didn’t take long for Schultz to discover that the compelling account he’d read has been attacked by some historians who have claimed it is the fabrication of a deserter.
Schultz will acknowledge that it is true Thompson’s story doesn’t line up exactly with the timeline suggested by one of the surviving generals, but he believes there are other reasons for that. Thompson’s account does match up quite well with other, independent eyewitness accounts, which Schultz has been painstakingly charting on a map he has put together of the relevant areas.
In Thompson’s account, for example, he tells how his and another man’s horse had given out and they were kicking the horses, trying to get them going again. Custer went ahead without the two men, ordering them to follow on foot as best they could, to the battle site.
A different eyewitness account, by someone who did not know Thompson or the other man, tells of seeing the two men in the distance, kicking horses that had evidently given out. The location and timing that narrator gives is consistent with Thompson’s account.
In Thompson’s account, he tells how he did try to get to the battle scene, but was ultimately blocked by a bluff, which forced him to circle back and seek a way around it. Meanwhile, American Indians were also traveling in the area, and he was forced upon occasion to hide from them.
He didn’t make it to the appointed battle area before Custer’s cause had already been lost.
Many details of Thompson’s account are corroborated by other eyewitness accounts, Schultz said, and from this he believes the soldier’s account is more likely true than not.
“Being the only survivor of a massacre is not an easy place to be,” Schultz said. “And that raised suspicions in people’s minds. But in my mind I have proven his account by corroborating it with so many other independent accounts.”
Thompson’s story
Thompson, despite any suspicions that may have existed at the time, did receive the Congressional Medal of Honor for actions he took the next day, which Schultz believes illuminates the man’s true character as an American hero, and to him lends further credence to Thompson’s account.
The private had been among soldiers gathered early on the morning of June 26 atop Reno Hill to stop Indians from coming up a ravine and attacking the position. In the history books, this is referred to as Benteen’s first charge, of three made.
Thompson and the 13 other troopers were to run up a hill to the edge of the bluff and head of the ravine. The private was among the first to reach the area and consequently was shot. The bullet traveled up his middle finger, into his right hand and arm, before lodging in his elbow.
He was treated for the wound as best a camp doctor could do, but of course could not shoot any more. His weapon was given to another who could still use it.
With no clear job to do any more, Thompson happened upon another wounded soldier and knelt to ask if he could do this soldier any service.
“Water, Thompson,” the soldier replied. “Water, for God’s sake!”
Thompson didn’t hesitate. He might not be able to shoot a gun any more, but he could surely get some water for his fellow, wounded soldiers.
So he gathered up two canteens and a camp kettle, and headed back to the ravine where he’d been wounded. He was stopped by a Sgt. Kanipe who tried to dissuade him from such risky action, certain he could not make it back alive.
It was indeed a risky mission. Thompson was fired upon multiple times as he made the trip to bring back water for the wounded. One of the bullets carved a 3-inch furrow in his right scalp.
Nonetheless, he made four trips in all for water that day, and inspired others to join his efforts to ensure that all the wounded at least would not suffer from thirst.
Second Lt. Winfield Edgerly, Co.D, Seventh Cavalry, applied for and obtained a Medal of Honor for Thompson, which was presented Oct. 5, 1878.
In his lifetime, Thompson was vexed by those discounting his story, but his response is one Schultz also repeats.
“Were they there?” Schultz asks. “This is one man’s personal experience. He was there. I believe him. I don’t know why the manuscript came to me the way it did, but there has been an injustice to Peter Thompson, and I want to right the wrongs done to him. There’s virtually no justification for destroying this man. He is a true American hero.”
