For a period of time, I was fascinated with World War II history, and I had a strong interest in the aircraft used in the war - the various bombers and fighters. I wrote on this blog that I recently rediscovered a documentary from 1944 about the amazing accomplishments of the crew of the Memphis Belle, a B-17 bomber that flew bombing missions over Germany from its base in England. I included the full documentary and several clips from a 1990 Hollywood movie about the crew in that post, which you can check out here.
And then there was the period in 2nd-3rd grade where I learned all I could about both the Revolutionary and Civil wars, prompted by seeing my dad's 1976 high school yearbook, the year he graduated. To commemorate the 200th anniversary of American independence, the yearbook featured a section showcasing all the major flags flown in or by the country - flags of individual colonies prior to and during the Revolution; the Confederate flag and its major variants; various battle flags used over the centuries; state flags; and a series of official U.S. flags that showed its evolution leading up to what we now know as its current design.
Finally, getting to the main topic of this post, there was also a period growing up where I learned all I could about what's generally and collectively referred to as the Indian Wars - the various battles and skirmishes that took place out West between the U.S. Army's Cavalry and various Native American tribes after the Civil War. This interest all began when my parents, sister, and myself headed out West on a road trip one summer. I forget how old I was at the time, but I would have been in middle school. We visited Mt. Rushmore and the Crazy Horse Memorial in South Dakota; stopped at multiple roadside markers pointing out U.S. - Indian battle sites; ventured into Wyoming for a couple of days; and went into Yellowstone National Park, albeit very briefly due to lack of time. But the highlight of the trip for me was our visit to the Little Bighorn Battlefield National Monument in Montana, site of the June 25-26, 1876 battle and home to a national cemetery for veterans of all wars.
I remember the site being very quiet. It was very peaceful and solemn. It was the perfect place for thinking; for reflecting and just letting your mind wander. Had it not been for all the markers and fences indicating where soldiers and Native warriors had fallen, you wouldn't know that a bloody massacre had taken place there some 120 years (at the time I went there) prior. It was that quiet. I'd love to visit there again someday.
As I recently started to learn about Myles Keogh and his brief yet extraordinary military career, I thought to myself simply, "Wow..." Here's a man that met his death at the young age of 36 - my age as I write this - and had, in his short career, left Ireland to fight for Pope Pius IX in defense of the Papal States during the [re]unification of Italy; came to the United States to fight for the Union during the Civil War, surviving major battles like Gettysburg, to name just one; headed out West afterward to participate in the Indian Wars; fights and dies bravely in perhaps the most fabled battle in U.S. history; and then has his remains shipped back to New York for burial.
|Myles Keogh in 1872.|
Keogh's horse, Comanche, though badly wounded in the battle, survived and would go on to live another 15 years, dying in 1891. He became a mascot of sorts for the 7th Cavalry after the battle, and he is currently housed at the University of Kansas Natural History Museum. He is stuffed and in a humidity-controlled glass case.
Read all about Keogh's extraordinary life and career in this Wikipedia article, and check out the two videos immediately below pulled from YouTube. The third video, also from YouTube, is a news clip from 2015 talking about the battle in general and visiting the site.