Alonzo Cushing's Sacrifice at Gettysburg Earned Medal of Honor

Jul 26 , 2026

Alonzo Cushing's Sacrifice at Gettysburg Earned Medal of Honor

Alonzo Cushing’s blood didn’t stain Gettysburg quietly. It screamed defiance from a shattered artillery pit, a single man holding an entire line together with powder and iron, even as flesh tore and life bled away. Three wounds. Still, the guns never stopped roaring.

The Battle That Defined Him

July 3, 1863. The sun boiled over Cemetery Ridge, Pennsylvania. Confederate troops surged like a dark tide—Pickett’s Charge thundered toward Union lines. Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing, barely 22, commanded Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery. His unit was the thin red line between Union infantry and annihilation.

Bullets sliced the air. Shell fragments hammered the earth. Cushing’s right arm shattered beneath him. Still, with hands trembling in pain, he ordered the guns turned, reloaded, and fired. His left arm hit next. The noise never slowed. His second wound was mortal, the Bible says “Blessed are the peacemakers,” but here, war demanded something else: unrelenting fury against death’s approach.

Despite every agonizing heartbeat, Cushing stayed at his post. He crawled closer to the guns—cheeks smeared with blood, mind gripped by steel resolve. When the third bullet pierced his chest, his final act was a command to keep firing. His artillery covered infantrymen buying time to hold the ridge.

The guns fell silent only when his life did.

Origins of a Warrior’s Spirit

Born January 27, 1841, in Wisconsin, Alonzo was raised in a family steeped in service and sacrifice. West Point sharpened his grit and faith. A deeply rooted Christian, Cushing saw battle not only as duty but as crucible—trials that refine a man’s soul.

His discipline came from Scripture and soldier’s creed alike. Hebrews 12:1 echoes in his story: “Let us run with endurance the race that is set before us.” Every maneuver, every command bore the weight of a sacred promise—to protect, to persevere, no matter the cost.

Faith was his backbone amid the storm. It was never about glory but the greater good—an invisible armor that bore him through hell.

The Furnace of Battle

The artillery battery under Cushing’s command was small but critical. Four guns. Over open ground. Facing the biggest Confederate assault of the war.

Cushing’s leadership was more than technical mastery. It was raw grit. When Captain Samuel Canby, his superior, wrote after the battle, he called Cushing’s stand “one of the most gallant episodes known in the annals of our army.”¹

Reports say Cushing’s battery was the focal point of Confederate fire. Enemy sharpshooters targeted him repeatedly. Every wound was a direct hit, each one a cruel knock to the man anchored in chaos. Yet the guns roared on—an iron heartbeat in the heart of carnage.

Witnesses spoke of how Cushing, pinned and broken, still urged the men forward. Sometimes, a soldier’s courage is measured by how long he burns rather than how fast he falls.

Recognition Deferred, Honored at Last

Alonzo Cushing fell on that bloody hill, a young man swallowed by war’s unyielding hunger. Yet, his valor lay buried in silence for over 150 years.

It was not until 2014 that President Barack Obama awarded him the Medal of Honor—posthumously recognizing his incredible sacrifice in the nation’s bloodiest clash.² The citation says, in part:

“Lieutenant Cushing was mortally wounded while serving with conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity during the repulse of Pickett’s Charge on July 3, 1863.”

Generals of the era knew his impact. General Winfield Scott Hancock reportedly said of Cushing’s stand: “A man who holds his post under three mortal wounds has the courage of the gods.”

Legacy Etched in Sacrifice

Alonzo Cushing’s story is not about one battle won. It is about the ethos of sacrifice, the bare truth of a soldier’s burden: to stand when every breath pains, eyes burning with the vision of victory for others.

His endurance reminds warriors today what it means to fight not for glory, but for legacy. The sometimes-invisible debt paid by those who bleed so others might live free.

In a world quick to forget conflict’s price, Cushing demands remembrance—not of violence, but of commitment, of faith that outlasts wounds or death. His courage shines like a beacon through the centuries, for those who have scars and those who carry the weight of history.

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

Alonzo Cushing kept his faith—not just in God, but in his fellow soldiers and a cause greater than himself. The world may change, but his example endures: redemption through sacrifice, and glory not in survival, but in enduring purpose.

Sources

1. U.S. War Department, Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies, Volume 27, Part 1 2. White House Press Release, “President Obama awards Medal of Honor to Lt. Alonzo Cushing,” 2014