Dec 11 , 2025
Cannon smoke chokes the Georgia air. The ground shakes with artillery blasts. Five guns in battery, manned by blackened faces and shaking hands. Only one man stands steady. Captain Alonzo Cushing, ...
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Dec 11 , 2025
Death doesn’t always come silent. Sometimes it screams through the roar of cannon fire, the clash of steel, and the cries of dying men. July 3, 1863—amid the blood and smoke of Gettysburg, one youn...
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Dec 10 , 2025
The smoke choked the air, the earth beneath soaked with blood and ash. Amidst the hail of bullets and cannon fire, Alonzo Cushing stood firm—his hands steady on the artillery piece, refusing to yie...
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Dec 09 , 2025
Alonzo Cushing stood at the heart of a maelstrom, a small artillery battery surrounded by the thunder of cannon and the crush of Confederate steel. Bullets sliced the air. Blood soaked his uniform....
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Dec 08 , 2025
Alonzo Cushing gripped the cold iron of his cannon’s breach as bullets tore through the smoke-choked sky. Blood slicked his hands. Seven wounds tore through his body, but the guns roared on. The gr...
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Dec 08 , 2025
Alonzo Cushing’s final stand was painted in smoke and blood. The roar of Confederate cannons pounded his ears, but he never flinched. Even as musket balls tore through flesh and bone, he gripped hi...
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