Mar 09 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s world burned around him. Cannon smoke thick as death, men shouting in agony, the earth torn apart by chaos and blood. His artillery battery was splintered, but the guns roared on. ...
(4) Comments
Mar 08 , 2026
Blood and thunder rip through the morning mist. The cannons roar. Men scream. Amid the chaos, Alonzo Cushing stands firm—his legs shattered, blood flooding the ground beneath him. Still, he command...
(0) Comments
Mar 08 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the cold iron of his cannon’s breech. The shell casings were slick with blood, but his hands never wavered. Around him, the thunder of musketry and artillery shook the earth....
(0) Comments
Mar 07 , 2026
He bled where freedom hung in the smoke. Blood ran cold, but his hands never shook. Amid the screaming cannon fire of July 3, 1863, Alonzo Cushing refused to quit. Three wounds. Three times the ear...
(0) Comments
Mar 06 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the wheel of his artillery caisson, blood pooling beneath him, but his finger never wavered off the lanyard. The enemy advanced, rifles chattering death on Cemetery Ridge, bu...
(0) Comments
Mar 04 , 2026
The cannon thundered. Smoke choked the air. Blood slicked the earth beneath his boots. Alonzo Cushing gripped the wheel of his artillery piece. Bullets tore through his flesh, but still, he would n...
(0) Comments