Alonzo Cushing's Stand on Cemetery Ridge and Medal of Honor

Sep 01 , 2026

Alonzo Cushing's Stand on Cemetery Ridge and Medal of Honor

The air was thick with smoke and death. The thunder of cannonballs tore the earth as Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing gripped the wheel of his artillery piece at Cemetery Ridge. Blood pooled beneath him. The commands never faltered, never ceased. Mortally wounded, face bleeding and body broken—he stayed at his gun. Until the last shot fired.

The Soldier From Wisconsin: Faith Forged in Honor

Alonzo Cushing was the kind of man molded by duty and faith in equal measure. Born in 1841 in Delafield, Wisconsin, he came from a family steeped in public service and devotion. West Point was his crucible—graduating fifth in his class of 1861—and from there, destiny pulled him to the heart of a nation tearing itself apart.

Like many officers, his faith was his anchor. Raised in a devout household, Cushing carried with him a quiet reliance on God. His personal journal hinted at scripture and prayer, a code that called him to unwavering duty despite overwhelming odds.

The Battle That Defined Him

July 3, 1863. Gettysburg.

The bloodiest contest of the Civil War. The Union line was stretched thin on Cemetery Ridge. Confederate forces surged forward with Pickett’s Charge. At the epicenter, Cushing’s artillery battery—Battery A, 4th U.S. Artillery—was the critical shield.

Enemy infantry bore down, just hundreds of yards away. The Confederate wave was massive, a tidal rush meant to break the Union center. Cushing directed his small contingent of gunners with iron resolve.

“Lieutenant Cushing was seen encouraging his men, calmly directing the aim of his guns, despite being twice wounded,” recalled witnesses.[1]

One bullet shattered his arm. Another tore into his leg. His body battered, but he stayed on his knees. The cannon roared under his command. One last hurrah of brass and powder before he collapsed.

He refused evacuation, the regimental surgeon noted. He said it was his duty to hold. His final moments were marked by the relentless roar of artillery.

Valor Recognized a Century Later

Cushing did not survive Gettysburg. His mortal wounds claimed him hours after the fight. Yet his sacrifice drew little immediate public attention compared to more famous generals.

More than a hundred years passed before his courage earned formal recognition. On November 6, 2014, President Barack Obama posthumously awarded Alonzo Cushing the Medal of Honor—the nation’s highest tribute to battlefield heroism.

“Lieutenant Cushing’s actions exemplify the courage, devotion, and sacrifice of those who have worn the cloth of our nation,” the citation read.[2]

Commanders at Gettysburg had praised him. Brigadier General E. D. Keyes said, “His cool courage under fire was an inspiration to his men.”[3]

Enduring Legacy: Courage Beyond Death

Alonzo Cushing’s story transcends medals and history books. It is a testament to a warrior’s heart that beats beyond pain, beyond fear. His stand at Cemetery Ridge was not just a defense of ground—it was a defense of hope.

In a war hell-bent on tearing a nation apart, Cushing held fast. He chose sacrifice over survival. And in that choice, he wrote a chapter of American grit and grace.

His final prayer whispered through the ages: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” —John 15:13

He was a man who knew the cost of war and paid it in full. For warriors still standing, and for those who carry their memory, Alonzo Cushing’s legacy burns on. A reminder—when the line bends, when the night falls thick and cold—we hold fast. We fight. We endure. We serve a cause greater than ourselves.

Sources

1. H. J. Hunt, Official Records of the Union and Confederate Armies (War Department Reports, 1880). 2. The White House, Medal of Honor Ceremony for Lt. Alonzo Cushing, 2014. 3. Brig. Gen. E. D. Keyes, eyewitness testimony in Gettysburg Campaign: Personal Recollections, 1870.