The Absaraka and Shoshone scouts saw the Lakota warriors first, nearly eleven miles from the point where Brigadier General George Crook had halted in the valley of the Rosebud River. They raced back to the column of nearly 1,200 soldiers and civilians, and another 300 Indian allies with a Shoshone scout leading the way, sounding the alarm. It was early in the morning of 17 June, 1876 and in a short time Crook and his men would find themselves in a desperate fight, a pitched battle—an unlikely fight of nearly even odds that drifted over four square miles and produced one of the most intriguing "what-ifs" of the Indian Wars.

Crook and his men had come up from Fort D.A. Russell, located just three miles outside of Cheyenne, Wyoming to Fort Fetterman. Fetterman, situated on a high bluff overlooking the Platte River, was named after an arrogant cavalry officer who several years before had boasted that he could ride through the entire Sioux nation with just 80 men. He got his 80 men and his comeuppance on a stony hillside a short distance from Fort Phil Kearny.

Crook commanded one of three columns moving against the Lakota—his from the south, General Gibbons from the west, and General Terry from the east. Each column was considered of sufficient strength to handle any enemy force that they encountered and the general consensus at every level of the Army was that once engaged, the Indians would hastily retreat. There was no reason to think otherwise. They were the finest light cavalry in the world and survived to fight another day by avoiding battle with superior numbers. Best likened to plains guerilla fighters, they depended on surprise and speed, rather than on brute strength. It was this tradition translated into rationale that convinced the army leadership that holding the Lakota to fight after once finding them (they seemed to have an uncanny knack of melting away before battle could be joined) would be the difficulty.

Besides the soldiers and civilians under Crooks command, the column included 86 Shoshone (Snake) under Chief Washakie and 176 Absaraka (Crow)—hereditary enemies of the Lakota. These fighters would prove pivotal in the upcoming fight and when they arrived to join the column on the 15 June, Crook took the time to welcome them with an impressive ceremony; forming 15 troops of cavalry and five companies of infantry in a regimental front to honor the warriors. Crook, an old Indian fighter and Civil War veteran, was aware of just how much such an array would mean to the morale of his men and his allies.

The column lumbered north, sending out flankers and scouts, feeling for the enemy. There were skirmishes, but true to their perceived nature, the Lakota and their allies, the Northern Cheyenne, were loath to tie themselves down to battle. It was not a matter of courage, and Crook and the officers under his command must have known this—it was a matter of timing. The Lakota, under the nominal direction of Crazy Horse would not commit to a battle until they were ready. And the truth of the matter was that unlike the structured command of the United States Army, the Lakota and Cheyenne fought mainly as individuals with war chiefs dictating strategy or tactics based on the respect accorded them by the tribe's warriors.

When the scouts alerted the camp and the soldiers fell in, they faced their enemy with weapons that (except for officers who bought their own), were dictated by bureaucrats a safe distance from the firing line. Infantry carried what was commonly referred to as the Long Tom, or trapdoor Springfield. It fired a .45-70 cartridge and weighed about 10 pounds. For the most part these "walk-a-heaps" depended on shoe leather for transport but Crook had decided to put his infantry aboard army mules to speed their pace. There is no account of the mule's opinion of this decision.

Enlisted men in the cavalry were armed with Model 1873 trapdoor Springfield carbines that fired a .45-50 cartridge, and a Colt .45 revolver with 7-inch barrel. Officers might carry Springfield or Spencer carbines or anything else that struck their fancy. They fought this battle the way that they usually did; in skirmish lines with every fourth man holding his and the three horses of his companions, with an occasional charge thrown in to drive the enemy from the field. As unromantic as the thought is, horses were simply a quicker way to get soldiers from one portion of the field to the other. The benefit of unhorsing the men and putting them in skirmish lines (each man about fifteen feet from his companions on the right and left), was that they had a better chance of hitting what they aimed at. Only the most proficient marksman from the saddle and soldiers of the frontier army, given little opportunity or ammunition, were far from this category. The disadvantage is that one's force was reduced by 25%--the fourth soldier assigned as horse holder. Obviously controlling four horses in the midst of combat was far more difficult than controlling one and it was not uncommon for Indians to charge into the horse holders and drive off cavalry mounts. Nothing is more demeaning to a cavalryman than to be reduced to an infantryman.

The Lakota and Cheyenne force numbered, respectively, about 1,500 and 100 warriors and their arms were considerably more varied than those of the enemy. There were certainly pistols, bows and arrows, hatchets, and at least one account suggests that less than half of the warriors were armed with firearms. But modern weapons were becoming plentiful. Some warriors were armed with .44 caliber Winchesters, Sharps, Henrys, Spencers, and Springfield carbines and rifles. There was probably a respectable collection of lesser known weapons scattered among the warriors. That probably suits the common view of the period; these undisciplined, ill-armed savages don't stand a chance against a formidable, modern army. It was the usual, if unfortunate, misconception.

But this was going to be an unusual battle. As the Lakota and Cheyenne charged the column, the men were formed into battle line and began unleashing volley fire. On the right, Captain Anson Mills, and on the left, Major William Royall, were ordered to charge a series of bluffs about 800 yards from the line. Thundering across the flats and through a patch of marshy ground the two wings drove the enemy back but soon found that they faced a decidedly determined enemy. Mills called for reinforcements from Crook who sent Captain Henry Noyes' battalion to his rescue. The battle had started at approximately 8:00 am and within two hours it was reported that every man of the column was engaged. There were no reserves.

Royal soon found himself in difficulty and Captain Guy V. Henry's troop was sent to the extreme left to prevent Royall from being flanked. Smoke and dust rolled over the entire field making visibility nearly impossible. The constant fire punctuated by the crash of the soldier's volleys drowned out all other noise, including commands. One trooper pointed out that when one of the enemy was killed, five others took his place. In the midst of this desperate action Captain Henry was struck in the lower jaw by a bullet. The severely wounded officer fell from his horse. A group of Lakota, seeing the wounded officer sprawled on the ground, rushed forward to count coup or perhaps drag him off. Washakie and Luishaw of the Shoshone, and Alligator-Stands-Up, Plenty Coups and several other Absaraka rushed forward to protect Henry. There was a fight within a battle as the Indian allies fought the Lakota and Cheyenne, eventually pushing them back. Henry was rescued and taken to safety.

In the meantime Captain Mils had checked the enemy's advance from the bluff and been ordered by Crook to lead his command down a narrow valley that has been variously described as "a dangerous defile" and Dead Canyon. Either name is likely to give one pause. Crook was convinced that Crazy Horse's camp was located at the end of the canyon and if it were in danger, the Indians would retreat. The idea certainly had merit but Crook had second thoughts and dispatched Captain Nickerson after Mills with orders to return. Whatever the condition of the valley, Mills was advancing on the enemy encampment in column of twos and could certainly have been ambushed and prevented from returning to the main column.

It was, as most battles generally are, a confusing engagement. In later investigations, both formal and informal, one of the mostly hotly debated questions was: who won? Crook was adamant in stating that it was a clear-cut victory for his command—they drove the enemy from the battlefield. From the Lakota and Northern Cheyenne standpoint, the answer was obvious—they had stopped Crook's advance and forced him to turn back to his camp at Goose Creek, Wyoming. As intense as the battle was, the loss to Crook's force was relatively slight, ten to twelve dead and perhaps, 40 wounded. The enemy losses, as far as can be determined, were about equal to Crooks.

For many years after the battle Crook remained in the center of a firestorm over his conduct during the battle. Some suggested that he lost control early on, that he was not aggressive enough, that he had disdain for the fighting prowess of his enemy (which seems unlikely because Crook enjoyed employing "Indians to catch Indians"), or that he failed to support his subordinates. He defended his decision to retreat to Goose Creek after spending the night on the battlefield, by stating that he had to replenish his supplies, regroup, and wait for reinforcements. Whatever the reasons that he offered for his withdrawal, they did not satisfy his critics.

In a macabre turn of events Crook's Battle of the Rosebud found itself relegated to the back pages of newspapers a short time later. It was replaced by the disaster on the Little Bighorn and this is where one of history's most interesting what-ifs emerges. If Crook had continued forward to harass Crazy Horse and his combined Indian force, could the Custer debacle have been avoided? There would have been the intended three columns pressing the Lakota and Northern Cheyenne instead of two. On the other hand (and there is always that imaginary other hand, or several more), if Crook had pursued his enemy there is always the possibility that Custer and his men would have ended up just as dead.