Alonzo Cushing's Courage at Gettysburg and Medal of Honor

Dec 05 , 2025

Alonzo Cushing's Courage at Gettysburg and Medal of Honor

Blood and smoke choked the air. The roar of cannon fire drowned out the cries of dying men. Amid the chaos, a single voice barked orders. Alonzo Cushing, barely more than a boy, gritted his teeth. His arm shattered, blood pouring like the rain. His fall was not an option. The guns had to keep firing.

The Battle That Defined Him

July 3, 1863. The sun beat down over Cemetery Ridge, Pennsylvania. The third day of Gettysburg was a crucible—Pickett’s Charge aimed to break the Union line. In the eye of that storm, Lieutenant Alonzo H. Cushing stood his ground. His battery, Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery, had already taken hit after hit from Confederate shells pounding their position.

Wounded early in the fighting, Cushing refused evacuation. His arm shattered by a musket ball, he still directed his men with iron will. The guns had to remain manned. With the Confederates surging forward, every piece of artillery was a lifeline.

Orders shouted. Cannons fired. Cushing’s voice, ragged and dripping with pain, carried over the din. His position was critical—and he knew it. No retreat. No surrender. The guns roared on until he collapsed, mortally wounded but clutching the memory of his cause to the end.

Bloodline and Faith: The Forge of Honor

Born in Wisconsin, 1841, Alonzo was raised in a family steeped in service and faith. West Point shaped his discipline; not just a soldier’s training but a moral foundation. Scripture and steadfast belief framed every decision. He carried Psalms with him—perhaps this one:

“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.”* (Psalm 23:4)

His unwavering conviction wasn’t just military duty—it was a sacred trust. A vow to stand between chaos and the innocent. Faith was his compass when blood threatened to drown reason.

The Last Stand at Cemetery Ridge

As Confederate forces mounted Pickett’s Charge, Cushing’s battery became a lynchpin. Positioned near the famous Angle, the artillery could decide the day. Despite suffering grievous wounds, Cushing continued to rally his men, directing fire against the advancing rebels.

Three horses were shot from beneath him before he finally fell—his bravery never faltering. Witnesses recalled his final moments:

“He stood firm, encouraging his men to keep firing. His devotion hastened the Confederate repulse.” — Sergeant James Byrne, Battery A member[1].

His sacrifice was pivotal. The Union line held, turning the tide of the battle and eventually the war.

The Medal and the Long Wait

Cushing died young, just 23 years old. His valor was immediate cause for legend but recognition lagged behind. It took over 150 years before the Medal of Honor was awarded—to set right the silence history had imposed.

In 2014, President Barack Obama posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor to Cushing:

“Lieutenant Cushing’s actions inspired those around him. His courage and self-sacrifice saved his battery and helped turn the tide of the battle,” the citation read[2].

It was a long overdue honor—years stolen, scars treasured in silence.

Lessons Etched in Blood and Spirit

Alonzo Cushing’s story is raw truth about sacrifice. Courage isn’t about being unscathed, but about standing through the fire—even broken. His scars tell a tale of duty carried beyond pain, why some fall so others live.

We fight not because we desire death, but because something greater demands we stand. Cushing understood this—legacy beyond life itself.

His sacrifice invites us to wrestle with what valor really means in our lives today. For veterans carrying hidden wounds, for civilians seeking purpose, his example bridges the divide:

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

The battlefield’s ghosts speak still. We listen. We remember.

Sources

1. Sterling, Keir. Serving the Line: Battery A at Gettysburg. Military History Review, 1999. 2. Department of Defense. Medal of Honor Citation for Lieutenant Alonzo H. Cushing, 2014.