“Hurrah, Boys, We’ve Got ‘Em!”—the last recorded words of Lieutenant Colonel (Brevet Major General) George Armstrong Custer, around 3 P.M., June 25, 1876, as later recalled by a messenger he had just dispatched.  Moments later, Custer and the remaining companies under his command attacked a village of Lakota, Cheyenne, and Arapahoe camped along the Little Bighorn River in eastern Montana Territory.  The rest, as they say, is history.

OK, before we begin, let me acknowledge that some may consider any comparison of donald trump to George Custer to be an insult to Custer.  Although sharing trump’s characteristics of ego, vanity, arrogance, bravado, and hubris, Custer certainly didn’t lack for bravery.  He didn’t try to duck out of the Little Bighorn by claiming heel spurs—or saddle sores.

But after a month of massive bombing, Iran holding out, and trump stumbling about, it might be worth considering what these two men had in common.  And where it ultimately got Custer.

And yes, where it might ultimately get us.

First, some background.  No one expected George Custer to set the world on fire.  Last in his class at West Point, he’d set a school record by accumulating the most demerits.  He did nothing extraordinary for the next couple of years, just another captain in the opening months of the Civil War.  Then came Gettysburg.

Given command of a unit of Michigan volunteers, he drew his sword and shouted, “come on, you wolverines!”  His charge was a key factor in turning the battle to the Union cause.

Promotions quickly followed.  Soon, at age 23, he was the youngest general in U.S. Army history. His battlefield instincts were simple:  charge, and keep charging.  Some claim he had eleven horses shot out from beneath him, yet he was never seriously wounded.

Post war, Custer was sent off to the newly formed state of Kansas, where he set out to track down Cheyenne Indians on the state’s western fringe.  It was pretty much a disaster.

Custer scoured the plains but found no one.  As the days wore on, he became more desperate.  His men began to desert.  Custer ordered them shot.

Frustrated, he left a junior officer in charge of the remaining troops and headed back to Fort Hayes.  For effectively deserting his own men and ordering some of them to be shot, Custer was court-martialed. He was found guilty and booted out of the army. His career was flailing.

But by this time, Cheyenne from Indian Territory (now Oklahoma) were riding north to harass settlers in southern Kansas and eastern Colorado.  General William Sherman wanted to someone to go after the Cheyenne, he decided to give Custer another chance.

Crossing from Kansas into Indian Territory in the dead of winter, Custer attacked a village camped along the Washita River.  It was a massacre.  Dozens of Indians were killed, including women and children.  The village was destroyed, the natives’ pony herd slaughtered, and all food stored for the winter set ablaze. 

Today, we’d call it an act of terrorism.  When word arrived that warriors from surrounding villages were mounting up, Custer took women and children hostages to use as human shields for his march back up to Kansas.

Despite his legendary status, the Washita Massacre would be the only battle against the Plains Indians Custer would ever win.

Later, he discovered gold in the Dakota Black Hills, published a self-aggrandizing book called “My Life on the Plains” (some of his junior officers insisted it was so full of B.S it should’ve been called “My Lie on the Plains”), became a media sensation, a darling of the press, and, with flowing blonde locks, a massive mustache, and rugged looks, a darling for the Eastern ladies.   

If none of this sounds familiar, stay with me. It will very soon.

He also made enemies.  President Grant couldn’t stand him.  But in 1876, when the government decided to pursue a massive campaign against the Lakota (Sioux) who were refusing to leave their buffalo land for reservations in Nebraska and the Dakotas, Custer got the call.

Along with the bravado, the vain search for glory (historians still argue over whether his ultimate goal was to become President), and the huge ego, there was one other factor.

Luck.  Somehow, someway, no matter how the odds were against him, Custer always lucked out.  It happened so often many in the army had a name for it.  Custer’s Luck.

Just how much this belief in his own infallibility factored into Custer’s demise no one can say.  But it certainly didn’t help.  Through a series of ego-driven bad decisions, Custer’s Luck ran out on that June day, barely a week away from the nation’s 100^th birthday.  I won’t go into detail, but for those interested, you can find a rather mediocre novel that might help you better understand the War for the Northern Plains here

Today, the parallels in the lives of trump and Custer are impossible to ignore.  A frequently bankrupt businessman publishes a best-selling self-aggrandizing book. More business failures follow, but his dismal career is somehow resurrected by a reality TV show.  A flailing run for President is rescued when the FBI Director (who trump later fires) announces an investigation against the husband of trump’s opponent’s campaign manager, just days before the election.  An investigation into trump’s campaign and possible links to Russian interference reveals multiple lies and possible obstruction of justice.  The report is whitewashed and buried by trump’s attorney general.

Two impeachments.  An attack on Congress on January 6.  Condemnation by Congress, many of whom would later grovel at his feet.  Another election, where his opponent is such a shadow of his former self that just about any reasonable opponent could win, allows him to again squeak by. 

And a raid against a weak third world nation that captures its president.  It all adds up to an incredible run of luck.

trump’s Luck.

And now, surrounded by sycophants and yes-men, a massive bombing campaign against another developing country has been launched.  But this time, it’s not going as planned.

Instead, it has divided our allies, emboldened our enemies, and weakened our economy and worldwide influence.  It has placed billions into the hands of a power-crazed Putin.  It has torn the middle east apart.  In China, President Xi must be smiling.

And in Iran, millions who otherwise longed for regime change, are now much more ambivalent after seeing loved ones buried under tons of concrete.

So what comes next?  Charge blindly ahead with continued bombing and a ground war, assuming trump’s Luck will hold?  Or negotiate, realizing the Strait of Hormuz is effectively closed, Iran is back to selling oil to the world, and uranium is still in the equation?  What happens to us?  What happens to the world?

Custer’s earlier massacre at the Washita reverberated across the plains, and its dead children were likely remembered at the Little Bighorn.  The children buried under tons of rubble in Iran, Gaza, Ukraine, and elsewhere will not be forgotten, either.  What their legacy will be only time will tell.

Unlike trump, Custer never made it to the White House.  His luck ran out on a hot summer day in Montana.  His hubris took with him the lives of 286 American soldiers.  Thus far, trump’s Luck has carried this nation to the brink of a massive conflict.  When that luck runs out, the impact could be far greater than the lives of the Seventh Cavalry.  The Unites States Congress must take a long hard look at this, and do what’s right for the future of the world.

Will they react with reason and courage?  Or simply cowardice, and a continued blind faith that Luck will somehow hold?