Alonzo Cushing and the Sacrifice That Saved Gettysburg

Nov 05 , 2025

Alonzo Cushing and the Sacrifice That Saved Gettysburg

Alonzo Cushing’s blood soaked the soil of Gettysburg, a crimson testament to unyielding duty. Despite cannon fire tearing through his flesh, his hand never left the gun’s lanyard. Death circled close — yet the guns roared on. This was a man who chose the fight over fate itself.

Roots of Resolve

Born in 1841, Alonzo Cushing was no stranger to discipline and honor. A West Point graduate of the Class of 1861, he stepped into war a fresh artillery officer, charged with a sacred mission: hold the line, carry the flame. Raised in a family that revered duty and faith, his resolve was more than military training—it was a calling.

Faith underpinned his courage. Letters hint at quiet moments, prayer whispered between volleys. A man who trusted in eternal justice, even as hell rained around him. The weight of sacrifice wasn’t theoretical—he felt it in every fiber.

The Battle That Defined Him

July 3, 1863. The third day of Gettysburg. Confederate forces under Pickett roared like a freight train, waves of men crashing across open fields. Cushing, only 22, commanded Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery, stationed on Cemetery Ridge. His guns were the thin line between the Union army and annihilation.

When enemy infantry surged forward, most would retreat or fall back. Not Cushing. Even after grievous wounds tore through his body — a bullet to the thigh, shrapnel in his abdomen — he refused to yield. Reports say he remained standing, directing the battery’s fire. His voice is lost to history, but his actions spoke in thunder.

Witnesses recall him gripping the limber chains, rallying men, refusing evacuation. “I will never leave my guns,” he reportedly declared. The battery’s shells slowed the Confederate advance, buying precious minutes.

As death finally claimed him, Cushing’s last moments were under fire, hands steady on his guns, eyes locked on the enemy line. His sacrifice was brutal and raw — but his will immovable. The cannon never silenced.

Honors Hard-Won and Long-Delayed

Cushing died on that battlefield, but his story did not fade with his life.

In 2014, 151 years after Gettysburg, President Barack Obama awarded Alonzo Cushing the Medal of Honor. The citation recognized “extraordinary heroism and conspicuous gallantry” under fire and “selfless devotion to duty.”[1]

Major General Winfield Scott Hancock, who commanded the Union forces at Gettysburg, called Cushing “one of the bravest men I ever met.”[2] Fellow soldiers remembered a leader who embodied the sacred code of the artilleryman. They buried him with honor, but his recognition came slowly—delayed by decades of history’s turning tides.

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” — John 15:13

Legacy Etched in Sacrifice

Alonzo Cushing’s blood was spilled on one of America’s most crucial fields. His stand at Cemetery Ridge was more than gallantry; it was embodiment of sacred sacrifice. He teaches us what it means to stand when all else falls—when pain screams and death beckons.

His story strips away any romantic gloss on war. It unveils raw courage, relentless focus, and the crushing weight of responsibility. For veterans, his courage is a mirror—wounds unspoken, courage unyielding. For civilians, a stark reminder: freedom demands men like Cushing.

His legacy is not medals or history books. It is the quiet, brutal truth that courage costs everything—and sometimes you pay with your life to hold the line for others.

In the end, Alonzo Cushing’s sacrifice is a testament written in cannon smoke and blood. His voice echoes through the thunder of guns: Hold fast. Fight hard. Serve something greater than yourself.

Those words will outlive us all.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients, Civil War 2. Hunt, Roger D. Colonel Alonzo Cushing: Gettysburg's Heroic Artilleryman