The Little Big Horn River wends it way through grassy knolls and rolling hills. Great expanses of blue sky dome the coulees and valley on either side of the river. Heat mirages wavers in the air. Herds of sun soaked wild horses wander among the grass meadows. Horse flies buzz and rattle snakes rattle in the symphony of the great plains. Mingled in the air, faint wafts of sweet grass and sage brush and horse manure.
Tombstones, cairns, and markers speckle the hillsides and valleys. Monuments to the fallen.
One such monument to the horses lost in the Battle of Little Big Horn. Their riders used their bodies like shields from the overwhelming volley of ammunition from the native Americans defending their way of life.
The memorial, “Peace Through Unity” sitting atop a hill traces three warriors, representing the three tribes. The ever changing sky, a back drop representing the home of the Spirit. The Lakota (Sioux), Cheyenne, and Arapaho lead by Sitting Bull won the battle but forever lost their nomadic culture, lost their self-sufficiency, lost their war.