Alonzo Cushing’s Final Stand at Gettysburg and Its Legacy

Dec 26 , 2025

Alonzo Cushing’s Final Stand at Gettysburg and Its Legacy

Alonzo Cushing’s final stand at Gettysburg was not just a last act of bravery—it was a defiant scream against the dying light of a battle that would shape a nation. Amidst a storm of cannon fire and desperate cries, this young artillery officer stayed pinned to his gun, wounded deep but unyielding, until the crimson tide claimed him. When the cannon smoke cleared, a story of sacrifice and sheer will echoed through the ages.

Background & Faith

Born into a family steeped in military tradition, Alonzo Walter Cushing carried a weight heavier than his own years. West Point graduate, son of an army colonel, and a man of firm conviction, he took his duty as a sacred trust. Raised deeply in faith, his spiritual backbone was as strong as his arm—knowing that sacrifice carries purpose beyond the battlefield.

Cushing’s letters home reveal a soul wrestling with the price of war but grounded in a profound hope. In the crucible of violence, he clung to the words of Isaiah 6:8:

“Here am I. Send me.”

That calling would haunt and inspire him to press forward, even when the darkness closed in.

The Battle That Defined Him

July 3, 1863 — the heart of Gettysburg.

Cushing commanded Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery, placed on Cemetery Ridge. The Confederate assault known as Pickett’s Charge roared toward the Union line like a freight train of death. With smoke choking the air and the crack of musketry drowning out prayer, Cushing was struck not once, but multiple times—a bullet in the leg, shrapnel tearing through flesh—but he refused to yield his position.

“Keep those guns firing!” was his command, voice barely audible over the roar. As fellow soldiers fell back or lay dying, he stayed, gripping the wheel of his 12-pounder Napoleon cannon. Witnesses reported his stool splattered with blood, his hands trembling from pain and fatigue. Still, he directed the battery against the surging enemy, buying critical minutes that helped hold the Union center.

At some point, shot through the abdomen, Cushing collapsed against the limber chest, his last breaths mingled with the thunder of battle. His dying act wasn’t just courage—it was a grim salvation for countless men who stood behind that ridgeline.

Recognition

Though his valor was clear on that blistering field, recognition took time.

The Medal of Honor, awarded posthumously in 2014—151 years later—finally immortalized Cushing’s bravery.[^1] The citation reads:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty while serving as First Lieutenant, Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery, in action at the Battle of Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, 3 July 1863.”

General Winfield Scott Hancock reportedly praised the young officer’s grit, calling his defense “a pillar around which the Army of the Potomac rallied.” Fellow soldiers remembered how his defiance against overwhelming odds bought time—time that saved lives and turned the tide.

“How few realize that it was by the stubbornness of [Cushing and his men] the army was saved,” one surviving officer said years later.

Legacy & Lessons

Alonzo Cushing’s story is not about glory—nor the cheap thrill of heroism without cost. It’s about the raw, brutal grit of holding fast when everything burns down around you. His blood soaked Gettysburg’s soil, but his spirit seeded something eternal.

Battle scars are invisible to most, but Cushing’s sacrifice teaches us that courage is a choice even when you’re broken.

His legacy whispers across generations of veterans: honor is lived in the trenches of pain and sacrifice. Redemption comes not in survival but in relentless commitment to cause and to brotherhood.

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

Cushing laid down his life that July day—not for fame, but for the men beside him and the country they fought to preserve. His story reminds us that some battles mark the soul more than the body, and true valor burns long after the guns fall silent.

[^1]: U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients: Civil War (A-L)