May 14 , 2026
The roar of cannon fire, the screams of the wounded, and through it all, a single artillery officer stands at his gun. Blood pours from his shattered leg, but Alonzo Cushing refuses to let his batt...
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May 13 , 2026
Blood and smoke in the summer heat. The air throbbed with cannon fire, screams, and the relentless pounding of hooves and footsteps on churned earth. Amid the chaos stood a young artillery officer,...
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May 12 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the artillery ramrod tighter than life itself as enemy fire tore through the fields around him. Blood coursed through his fingers, seeping from wounds no man should bear. Yet...
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May 11 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the cold bronze handles of his cannon at Cemetery Ridge. Bullets screamed past. The roar of Union and Confederate artillery swallowed the air. Blood seeped through his unifor...
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May 10 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s hands trembled—not from fear, but from blood loss. Around him, the roar of cannon fire raged like hell itself. The earth was mud and death, smoke and shattered steel. His battery w...
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May 09 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s last stand wasn’t the clash of rifles or the thunder of cavalry charges. It was the relentless crush of artillery shells tearing through the smoke, the agony of shattered legs, and...
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