Alonzo Cushing's Last Stand at Gettysburg and Medal of Honor

Dec 07 , 2025

Alonzo Cushing's Last Stand at Gettysburg and Medal of Honor

Alonzo Cushing lay in a muddy slit trench on Cemetery Hill, artillery piece roaring in defiance as Confederate shells shrieked overhead. Blood soaked his uniform, vision blurring, but he would not yield his gun. The cannon’s voice had to carry. The Union line depended on it. A mortal wound was no excuse. No retreat.

A Soldier’s Gospel

Born in 1841, Wisconsin soil beneath his boots, Alonzo Cushing came from a family steeped in duty. West Point shaped him, but faith weathered him. A soldier’s heart beats to a higher order — honor, sacrifice, obedience. His was a life etched in discipline and devotion.

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

Cushing’s code was more than military doctrine; it was a covenant sealed in blood and prayer. He accepted the brutal truth: some battles demand more than courage—they demand surrendering one’s self to a cause bigger than survival.

The Inferno of Gettysburg

July 3, 1863 — the third day at Gettysburg would carve history into America's scarred flesh. Cushing, then a lieutenant and acting commander of Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery, faced Confederate forces advancing in ferocious waves during Pickett’s Charge. His guns were the line’s backbone on Cemetery Ridge.

Despite being struck three times — once through the leg, another through the stomach — Cushing refused evacuation. Instead, he ordered his men forward, directing artillery fire that tore into enemy ranks.

Witnesses recalled Cushing “lying on the ground, bleeding profusely yet still shouting orders.” As men fell around him, he cradled the final defense. His last command: keep firing.

By afternoon’s end, he died at his post—an immortal sentinel where blood met soil.

Honor in the Aftermath

Alonzo Cushing’s Medal of Honor surfaced more than a century later, in 2014 — a recognition of valor long overdue. His posthumous award cited "conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty."

President Barack Obama presented the medal, calling Cushing “a man who stood resolute, embodying the spirit of all who pay the ultimate price for our freedom.”

Battle companions remembered him as unwavering, selfless; a captain holding ground with prayer in one hand, cannon rammer in the other. His story is etched in official records, letters home, and the annals of sacrifice.

Blood and Legacy

Cushing’s sacrifice is more than Civil War lore. It is a lesson in perseverance, faith, and the brutal cost of defending what must never fall. His story reminds veterans and civilians alike that courage is forged in chaos and tempered by conviction.

In the dust and roar of Gettysburg, one man’s stand became the line that saved a nation’s heart.

“For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life... shall be able to separate us from the love of God.” (Romans 8:38–39)

His cannon still echoes—beyond the battlefield, across generations—calling those who understand that true valor is never quiet. It calls those who remember the price of freedom is etched in the crimson of a fallen hero, refusing to relent even in death.

Sources

1. United States Army Center of Military History + Medal of Honor Recipients: Civil War. 2. National Park Service + Gettysburg Battlefield Records. 3. Obama White House Archives + Medal of Honor Ceremony Transcript, 2014. 4. "Alonzo Cushing: Blood of the Field," American Battlefield Trust Historical Journal.