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

Oct 03 , 2025

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

Alonzo Cushing gripped the wheel of his artillery caisson, blood spilling through shattered hands. The cannon roared again—once, twice—defying the shriek of musket balls and cannonballs tearing the air. Around him, Union lines buckled under Confederate fire, but he refused to yield. The ground beneath Cemetery Ridge was soaked with smoke and sweat, and Cushing’s life bled away with every order barked through cracked lips.

He stayed at his gun until the last breath.

The Soldier’s Blood Runs in His Veins

Born in 1841 in Delafield, Wisconsin, Alonzo Cushing carried in his bones a soldier’s lineage. West Point molded him—a restless boy shaped into a man who saw battle not as glory but sacred duty. Discipline, faith, and an iron will defined him. Raised Episcopalian, his quiet trust in God undergirded his courage, even when the roar of cannon drowned out hope.

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

Cushing’s faith was no idle comfort; it was his fortress. Wounded, outnumbered, facing chaos, he held fast. The boy who grew into First Lieutenant of Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery was ready to bleed for the Union cause.

The Battle That Defined Him

July 3, 1863. Gettysburg. The third and deadliest day.

As Pickett’s Charge thundered like a freight train rolling across fields mowed by bullet and shell, Cushing’s position on Cemetery Ridge became a lynchpin. His battery was one of the few artillery units left standing, crucial in blunting the Confederate assault aimed straight at the heart of Union defense.

Despite a shattered leg and multiple wounds, Cushing refused to cease fire. Reports say he gave orders even as blood soaked his uniform, until the pain blackened his vision. Around him, men fell, cannons exploded, and the Union line teetered. But Cushing’s guns roared, halting the rebel surge.

“Lieutenant Cushing held his ground with heroic persistence,” noted subsequent Army reports. Witnesses recalled his voice, ragged but firm, calling for continued fire, directing men with unwavering resolve in the face of near-certain death.

His final act was not one of desperation—it was a soldier’s last stand, a defiant refusal to retreat that saved countless lives.

Honoring a Hero Amidst the Carnage

Cushing died on that field, aged 22, moments after his last command. Yet, recognition did not come swiftly. It took almost 150 years for the Medal of Honor to arrive posthumously in 2014, signed by President Barack Obama, acknowledging his extraordinary valor.

His citation speaks plainly:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty... While exposed to terrible enemy fire and suffering from three severe wounds, First Lieutenant Cushing remained at his post and continued to direct his battery until he died.”

Generals and comrades alike spoke in reverence. Colonel Charles Wheelock called him “a brave and noble spirit, a man who knew no fear but only duty.” His command was a beacon amid the carnage—a testament to leadership in the darkest hours.

The Legacy of Blood and Purpose

Alonzo Cushing’s story is carved into the granite of Gettysburg and the soul of every soldier who knows the price of sacrifice. He was not a hero because he survived; he was a hero because he chose to stand when retreat was easy, to fight when surrender beckoned.

Cushing’s battlefield scars became the roadmap for courage—a reminder that true valor often means paying the highest price.

In a world quick to forget and slow to honor, his legacy whispers across generations: “Stand firm. Fight hard. Love deeply—even unto death.”

For those who carry the weight of combat, and for those who seek meaning in sacrifice, Cushing’s battle is not history. It’s a call. A solemn vow that even after the guns fall silent, the fight for honor, faith, and redemption endures.

“Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.” (1 Corinthians 15:58)

Cushing’s stand teaches that legacy isn’t just medals or monuments. It’s the bloodied hands that hold fast to purpose amid pain. And in that grip, redemption is won.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients: Civil War 2. Smithsonian National Museum of American History, The Battle of Gettysburg Collection 3. Department of Defense, Official Medal of Honor Citation for Alonzo Cushing 4. McPherson, James M., Battle Cry of Freedom: The Civil War Era, Oxford University Press 5. National Park Service, Gettysburg Battlefield Unit Histories