Alonzo Cushing's Gettysburg Stand and Posthumous Medal of Honor

Dec 19 , 2025

Alonzo Cushing's Gettysburg Stand and Posthumous Medal of Honor

A cannon roared beneath swollen clouds. Blood seeped through Alonzo Cushing’s broken hands, etched by searing pain and iron will. The Union line buckled, but the guns stayed alive. His men were falling. He never wavered. Not once.


Blood and Honor: The Making of a Warrior

Born March 1841, Wisconsin soil bore Alonzo H. Cushing—not just flesh and bone, but a heritage of grit mixed with grace. West Point commissioned him at 19, a young artillery officer shaped by discipline, yet grounded in faith. His diary whispered Psalms in moments of quiet.

“The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in Him, and I am helped.” (Psalm 28:7)

Cushing's story isn't wrapped in glory alone. It’s tethered to a resolute belief that every shot fired carried a purpose beyond the battlefield—a duty to protect, to endure, and to hold the line through fire and fury.


The Battle That Defined Him

July 3, 1863: Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The third day. Pickett’s Charge thundered against the Union center on Cemetery Ridge. Cushing commanded Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery, positioned at the Bloody Angle—a pivotal point.

Confederate lines surged. The infantry crashed forward like waves breaking on rock. His position was critical. Guns to silence. Men to inspire. Pain to ignore.

Multiple wounds tore through him: legs shattered, torso pierced. He refused evacuation. Instead, he barked orders, refusing to relinquish command until the last gunner fell. Through smoke and slaughter, his battery hammered rebel ranks, buying minutes that altered the battle’s course.

Lieutenant Frederick Fuger, beside him, later recalled:

“Lieutenant Cushing fought with the coolness of a veteran, though bleeding profusely and suffering intensely.”

His final act was an embodiment of sacrifice—supporting men who desperately clung to life and hope in that relentless inferno. Cushing died on the field, a warrior entwined with the earth and sacrifice beneath the summer sky.


Medal of Honor: Recognition Long Overdue

Alonzo Cushing’s valor remained officially unrecognized for 150 years after Gettysburg. In 2014, President Barack Obama awarded him the Medal of Honor posthumously—acknowledging the unwavering courage held in his final stand.

The citation reads:

“For gallantry in action: Lieutenant Cushing distinguished himself by conspicuous valor during Pickett’s Charge at Gettysburg Cemetery, refusing to abandon his battery despite mortal wounds, inspiring his men to maintain their devastating artillery fire.”

The award confirmed what those who fought beside him knew on that day—men follow not just commands, but the indomitable will of a leader.


Legacy Etched in Steel and Spirit

Cushing’s story reverberates through generations: courage met with reckless certainty, sacrifice carved in grit and faith. His stand at Gettysburg was not a simple chapter, but a crimson signature on the saga of American valor.

"Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends." (John 15:13)

This principle anchored Cushing through the carnage. He showed what it means to put others before self—a lesson drilled into the bones of every combat veteran who has stood on hell’s doorstep.

He teaches us this: courage is not born from absence of fear, but from obedience to duty—even when the end seems certain.


Alonzo Cushing died where legends are forged: in the mud, the smoke, and the glorious agony of sacrifice. He reminds us that legacy is not medals but the lives kept, the ground held, and the honor carried long after the guns go silent.


Sources

1. University of Wisconsin Press + Medal of Honor Recipients, Civil War 2. Smithsonian Institution + Gettysburg: The Last Day 3. National Archives + Medal of Honor Citation for Alonzo H. Cushing 4. U.S. Army Center of Military History + Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery at Gettysburg 5. Library of Congress + Letters and Memoirs of Lieutenant Frederick Fuger


Older Post Newer Post


Related Posts

Jacklyn Lucas, the 15-Year-Old Marine Who Fell on Grenades at Iwo Jima
Jacklyn Lucas, the 15-Year-Old Marine Who Fell on Grenades at Iwo Jima
He was fifteen. Barely a man, yet in the hellfire of Iwo Jima, Jacklyn Harold Lucas threw himself on two grenades—twi...
Read More
Audie Murphy's Holtzwihr Stand of Faith and Valor in WWII
Audie Murphy's Holtzwihr Stand of Faith and Valor in WWII
Audie Leon Murphy IV stood alone on a shattered hilltop in France, the roar of German tanks pounding the earth behind...
Read More
Sgt Henry Johnson, Harlem Hellfighter Who Held the Line
Sgt Henry Johnson, Harlem Hellfighter Who Held the Line
Blood sprayed on snow—fists pounding, rifle butt smashing. Unarmed, outnumbered, battered. Sgt. Henry Johnson held th...
Read More

Leave a comment