Alonzo Cushing's Gettysburg Valor and Posthumous Medal of Honor

Nov 20 , 2025

Alonzo Cushing's Gettysburg Valor and Posthumous Medal of Honor

The earth shook with cannon fire. Smoke blotted out the sky. Through the chaos, Alonzo Cushing stood amid shattered artillery limbers, ignoring the flood of blood seeping through his wounds. His men faltered—but the guns would not fall silent. Not while he drew breath. Not while the Union line still held.


Blood and Birthright

Alonzo Cushing was born into a line of patriots. The son of Episcopal clergy and West Point alumni, he was raised steeped in a rigid code of duty and sacrifice. Faith didn’t just shape his beliefs—it forged his resolve. Cushing carried the weight of scripture and honor into battle, endless prayers beneath his brow as he manned his cannon.

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith." — 2 Timothy 4:7

Graduating West Point in 1861, he barely stepped into officer’s shoes before the Civil War swallowed his world. This was no parade ground. This was crucible and hellfire. Cushing understood that courage was not a gift but a reluctant choice, made in the moments when life slipped closest to death.


The Battle That Defined Him

July 3, 1863. Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. The third day of a titanic struggle that would carve the nation’s soul in agony.

Cushing was a 23-year-old artillery officer in command of Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery. Positioned at the apex of Cemetery Ridge, his guns were a lynchpin of the Union defensive line. As Pickett’s Charge thundered forward, tens of thousands of Confederate soldiers surged—an overwhelming tide bent on slaughter.

He ordered his men to hold fire until the enemy closed within point-blank range. Then, when the first ranks fell under cannon and musket, he refused to yield. Amid crashing volleys and roaring shells, Cushing directed his guns like a conductor on the edge of madness.

A Minie ball slammed into his thigh. Bone shattered. He knelt but didn’t quit. Another wounded his shoulder. Blood poured, but his voice cut through smoke and screams, rallying his crew. Even when a third bullet tore through his chest, he clung to his post, propping himself beside his dying cannoneers.

Witnesses recounted his last commands, ordering the ammunition handled, loading canister rounds, aiming at the swarming Confederates. It was valor amid chaos, tenacity fueled by conviction.

He fell at the foot of his guns, mortally wounded but still commanding fire.


A Medal Born of Valor and Time

Alonzo Cushing died that day, July 3, 1863, his sacrifice cemented in history but not immediately recognized at the highest level. Decades would pass before his heroism was officially honored.

President Barack Obama awarded him the Medal of Honor posthumously on November 6, 2014, nearly 151 years after Gettysburg.

The citation spoke of his “extraordinary heroism” as he “continued to fight his battery despite wounds received until he was mortally wounded.”

Lieutenant General Ulysses S. Grant later described the defense of Cemetery Ridge as “one of the most heroic stands in military history.” Cushing’s artillery was a cornerstone.

Historians note that his steadfast defense contributed decisively to the Union army repelling the Confederate assault, a turning point in the Civil War.


The Legacy of Iron Resolve

Alonzo Cushing’s story is not just about battlefield guts. It’s about the unyielding spine of character forged in fire and faith.

He stood as a test to all warriors: real courage is pain embraced, mission prioritized, sacrifice accepted willingly. His mortal wounds did not silence his guns or spirit. His faith carried him past fear, past death.

In him, we see the raw truth of combat veterans everywhere—their scars are worn not for glory, but for the lives saved, the country preserved, the promises kept.

“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” — John 15:13

The battlefield is unforgiving, but men like Cushing teach us that through sacrifice, redemption is found. His legacy is steel and prayer interwoven.

He did not seek fame. He sought victory for his comrades. His voice still echoes through the smoke—steady, relentless, unbroken.


Remember Alonzo Cushing. Remember the price of freedom.

Remember a man who fought until his last breath so that others might live.


Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients: Civil War (A-L) 2. The Library of Congress, Battle of Gettysburg: Official Records and Personal Accounts 3. Medal of Honor: Alonzo Cushing, National Park Service - Gettysburg National Military Park 4. NPR, “Alonzo Cushing Awarded Medal of Honor 151 Years After Gettysburg,” 2014 5. Grant, Ulysses S., Personal Memoirs, 1885


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