Alonzo Cushing’s Last Stand at Gettysburg and His Valor

Dec 11 , 2025

Alonzo Cushing’s Last Stand at Gettysburg and His Valor

Death doesn’t always come silent. Sometimes it screams through the roar of cannon fire, the clash of steel, and the cries of dying men. July 3, 1863—amid the blood and smoke of Gettysburg, one young artillery officer held his ground until the bitter end, his wounds blooming crimson even as he kept the guns firing. This was Alonzo Cushing.

Born to Lead, Raised to Serve

Alonzo Herndon Cushing was no stranger to sacrifice. Born in 1841 in Wisconsin, he came from a family steeped in duty and honor. West Point shaped him—a crucible for the next generation of Union officers. A devout Christian, Cushing bore a faith that welded his courage and grit into something greater than himself.

He carried a sense of sacred responsibility, one only soldiers understand. As he wrote letters home, his words often turned to God's will—a steady compass amid chaos. “I hope when my time comes, I will meet it as I ought," he once penned. Not a boast, but a vow.

The Battle That Defined Him

The third day at Gettysburg—bloodiest dawn of the war’s turning point. Confederate forces under General Pickett surged full-force in a desperate assault straight at the Union center on Cemetery Ridge. Cushing, barely 22, commanded Battery A of the 4th U.S. Artillery. His mission was crystal clear—hold the line. No matter the cost.

Positioned at the base of the ridge, his guns rippled thunder into the advancing Confederate tide. The enemy closed, and one by one, his men fell. Shrapnel tore through his arm and abdomen, but Cushing stayed upright. Using one remaining arm, he directed the battery—delivering crushing volleys.

Witnesses would recount how, even as blood pooled beneath him, Cushing refused to yield. When Confederate soldiers stormed the guns, he met them with a pistol until he collapsed. He died right there, on the cannon's edge, still fighting.

Valor Etched in Bronze and Blood

Alonzo Cushing’s heroism went officially recognized only decades later. He was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor in 2014, almost 151 years after Gettysburg, sealing his place among America’s bravest.

The citation reads:

“...distinguished himself conspicuously by gallantry at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty. Despite wounds received in the hand and abdomen, he remained at his battery...encouraged his men and directed a final defense that kept the enemy from capturing the battery.”

General Alexander S. Webb called him “one of the most gallant officers I ever saw.”

Enduring Lessons from a Fallen Hero

Cushing’s story is a brutal reminder: Courage amid carnage is messy. It’s not always loud, but it always demands everything a soldier has. He showed that a single man’s steadfast heart can hold the line against overwhelming odds.

His faith showed us another truth—there is redemption in sacrifice. Cushing reminded the world that the cost of freedom is paid in blood, but that blood can water the soil where hope grows.

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

He died wielding a cannon against a tide that threatened to break his country apart. Yet in his steadfast stand, Alonzo Cushing secured more than a battlefield. He secured a legacy—first in courage, then in the long, restless peace that follows war.

For every brother and sister who bear their own scars, Cushing’s story echoes: Stand firm. Fight with purpose. Serve with honor. The battle never ends, but neither does the story of what it means to be truly brave.