Dec 06 , 2025
Alonzo Cushing and the Stand That Helped Hold Cemetery Ridge
Alonzo Cushing’s hands were bloodied and trembling, yet he gripped the wheel of his cannon like a man chained to fate. The roar of musket fire cracked the air over Cemetery Ridge, July 3, 1863, as Confederate forces launched their desperate charge. Wounded three times—once in the abdomen, once in the leg, once in the thigh—he refused to quit. His guns kept firing. Smoke, blood, and agony mixed into a crucible of unyielding will.
Bloodlines and Conviction
Born into a family with a legacy of service, Alonzo Cushing carried a heavy weight on slender shoulders. West Point graduate, artillery officer, son of a nation’s sacred struggle. His faith was quiet but resolute, rooted deeply in upbringing and scripture. The Cushing boys had honor tattooed on their souls; Alonzo often carried the words of Psalm 23—“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”—like armor against despair.
His moral compass never wavered. Duty ran as deep in him as the wounds he would bear. The battlefield was no place for hesitation. The artillery officer knew his mission was brutal but righteous. His cause was the Union, yes—but also something far greater: the cost of freedom and legacy.
The Battle That Defined a Life
July 3, 1863.
The third day of Gettysburg was hell made manifest. Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia converged like a tidal wave on Cemetery Ridge. Cushing commanded Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery. The enemy advanced with thunderous intent.
As Confederate sharpshooters picked off his crew, Cushing took command with iron resolve. A wound in his thigh bedraggled but did not stop him. When a bullet tore through his abdomen, many would have fallen—but not Cushing. He ordered his remaining men to load canister rounds, to sweep the murderous field.
His voice, reportedly barely above a whisper, carried the last order:
“Keep your guns firing—do not give them this hill.”
By the time the attack broke and the Confederates withdrew, Cushing had succumbed to his wounds, lying dead beside the cannon he refused to abandon.
The Medal of Honor citation credits him with “extraordinary heroism” for remaining at his post despite mortal injury, holding open a critical gap in the Union line at great personal cost. His sacrifice helped shatter Pickett’s Charge—the turning point of the Civil War.
Recognition Forged in Blood
Alonzo Cushing did not receive the Medal of Honor for over 130 years after the war. In 2014, nearly a century and a half later, President Obama awarded it posthumously. His citation speaks plainly but profoundly:
"Captain Cushing exhibited extraordinary heroism and selflessness by maintaining the most forward artillery position on Cemetery Ridge... despite multiple mortal wounds."
Political leaders, military historians, and comrades’ descendants hailed the award as overdue justice for a soldier who embodied the highest ideals of sacrifice and steadfastness. Marine Corps history writer Forrest Bryant Johnson said:
“Cushing’s stand was one of the most selfless acts in American military history.”
Legacy Etched in Time
Alonzo Cushing’s story is not just another tale of Civil War valor. It is a study in unshakable resolve and unyielding faith under fire. His life questions what it means to hold ground—literally and morally—when the cost is life itself.
His actions ripple through generations: the soldier who fights not for glory but for the man next to him, the country he loves, and the principles bigger than blood and bone.
The scarred fields of Gettysburg still whisper his name.
His legacy teaches a bitter truth—courage is not absence of fear, but mastery of it. Real valor is found in enduring pain for something eternal. And redemption isn’t always neat or immediate; sometimes it arrives decades later, in the silent honoring of lost lives.
A Prayer for the Fallen
In the end, Cushing’s sacrifice reminds us of Romans 8:18—
“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”
Alonzo Cushing’s glory was not immediate on the battlefield. It was in the unbroken faith he held, the line he kept firm as death closed in. His story demands that we remember—the cost of freedom is never free.
And if we dare to carry that weight, we honor him best.
Related Posts
William J. Crawford's Medal of Honor Stand on Hill 140, Italy
William J. Crawford WWII Medal of Honor Recipient Who Held the Line
William J. Crawford's Valor at Monte Corvino and Medal of Honor