Jun 12 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s blood soaked the soil at Gettysburg. Twelve cannon roared under his command, a thunderous hailstorm cutting through Confederate lines. Shells ripped the air, but he stayed upright—...
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Jun 07 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing lay drenched in blood, a hole torn through his abdomen, the iron scent of death thick in the air. Around him, cannon roared, Union lines faltered, Confederate soldiers pressed hard. ...
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Jun 06 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the cold barrel of his cannon as Confederate fire ripped through the field. Blood was seeping freely from a wound churning his guts. But the guns did not fall silent. Not whi...
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Jun 04 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing lay on the frozen ground of Cemetery Ridge, blood draining from a wound that would soon claim him. His hands gripped the wheel of a cannon, still ramming round after round into the C...
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Jun 01 , 2026
Beneath a sky ripped open by cannon fire, a young officer stood alone. Blood soaked his uniform, but his cannon roared on. His voice cracked out orders through the smoke and screams. At Gettysburg,...
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May 31 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s hands trembled—not with fear, but raw grit. Blood dark as the earth stained his uniform, yet his finger never left the lanyard. Bombs dropped like the wrath of heaven, shells screa...
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