Alonzo Cushing’s Gettysburg Stand That Earned the Medal of Honor

May 19 , 2026

Alonzo Cushing’s Gettysburg Stand That Earned the Medal of Honor

Smoke choked the summer air, cannonballs shrieked past, and blood slicked the red clay beneath tired boots. Amid the chaos, a young artillery officer clung to his guns, the sharp taste of iron in his mouth, every breath agony. Alonzo Cushing refused to retreat. “Hold this line!” he demanded of his men, even as wounds claimed his flesh. Death was near, but surrender was not an option.

Born for Battle, Raised by Faith

Alonzo Cushing’s story began in Wisconsin in 1841, the eldest son of a family marked by sacrifice and service. He carried the imprint of a stern, devout upbringing—rooted in Presbyterian values and a fierce sense of duty. At West Point, where he graduated nearly at the top of his class in 1861, Alonzo absorbed more than tactics. He absorbed a code: honor above all, courage beyond fear.

His faith wasn’t mere abstraction. It was a lifeline. Letters reveal a boy wrestling with the horror of war but anchored in scripture and purpose. “The Lord is my strength and my shield,” he wrote, quoting Psalm 28. It was not bravado but conviction—a quiet fire burning inside.

The Battle That Defined Him: Gettysburg, July 3, 1863

The sun scorched Cemetery Ridge, the Union line trembling under Pickett’s Charge. Captain Cushing, just 22, commanded Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery—a ragtag force tasked with a near-impossible mission: hold a critical section of the ridge against overwhelming Confederate assault.

Cannon roared. Men fell like wheat before the scythe. Cushing, wounded early—reportedly pierced through the thigh and groin—refused to leave his post. His hands, soaked in blood, still cranked the artillery’s elevating screws. Commands barked through clenched teeth: “Fire directly into their ranks! Don’t let them break through!”

Despite two mortal wounds, he rallied his gunners. His second-in-command testified, “Though he was dying, he kept giving orders and never ceased directing the guns.” The artillery fire ripped through Pickett’s men, buying precious minutes as musketry stormed the works around them.

Somewhere between steely determination and sheer will, Cushing transformed agony into action. He was struck down a third time, finally falling among shattered cannon and shattered bodies. His final stand was a testament not just to military grit but to a sacred grasp on faith and mission.

Recognition: A Medal Forged in Blood, Almost a Century Later

His comrades recognized valor—Medal of Honor recommendations surfaced soon after the war, but bureaucracy and politics shelved them. Alonzo Cushing’s sacrifice was buried with his body on that Pennsylvania field, unheralded in the grand annals of the Civil War for generations.

It wasn’t until 2014—151 years later—that the Medal of Honor was posthumously awarded to Cushing, a rare gesture honoring the ultimate price paid at Gettysburg.[1] President Obama, presenting the medal to Cushing’s descendants, called him “an example of selfless heroism and devotion to duty.”

His award citation described actions that “significantly contributed to the Union’s victory at Gettysburg,” underscoring how his refusal to abandon his artillery prevented critical Confederate breakthroughs.[2]

Lieutenant General Winfield Scott Hancock, who fought alongside Cushing, remarked in his official report, “Lieutenant Cushing’s gallantry was conspicuous even on that field of valor.”

Legacy: Blood, Faith, and the Unyielding Human Spirit

Alonzo Cushing’s story is not just one of war, but of why warriors endure—gripped by faith, purpose, and the sacred obligation to hold the line. His wounds—physical and spiritual—mirror the scars carried by all who’ve faced hell and come back changed.

He fights still in the quiet resolve of those battlefield ghosts who whisper, "Stand fast; never yield." His legacy roars in every soldier who stays with their weapon despite the odds.

“Greater love hath no man than this,” John 15:13 echoes—a scripture fitting for a man who gave his last measure so others might live.

We honor Alonzo Cushing not because he lived, but because he refused to let death define him. His story bleeds into ours, a reminder that sacrifice never dies; it redeems the chaos of war into hope and honor.

Sources

[1] U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients – Civil War (A-L) [2] The Washington Post, “Alonzo Cushing receives Medal of Honor for heroism at Gettysburg,” 2014 [3] Official Reports of the Battlefield of Gettysburg, Winfield Scott Hancock, 1863