Apr 13 , 2026
The roar of cannon fire shattered the morning calm. Alonzo Cushing, barely twenty-four, stood beside his battery on Cemetery Ridge, teeth clenched through blood and agony. Wounds ripped through his...
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Apr 11 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped his cannon’s wheel through blood and mud, the deafening roar of Gettysburg around him. His hands trembling, torn by shrapnel and bullet wounds, he wouldn’t let go. “Hold the ...
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Apr 09 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing lay bleeding, his fingers still clutching the lanyard of a cannon's firing mechanism. Around him, men fell like broken trees amid the thunderous roar of artillery and musket fire. Wo...
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Apr 08 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the cold cannon ramrod as the bullets tore the sky. Blood slicked his fingers, but he ordered the next round fired anyway. Around him, Union lines faltered; artillery crews f...
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Apr 07 , 2026
Blood runs on these cannon barrels, but still, the guns will roar. He won’t yield—no matter the cost. The Battle That Defined Him July 3, 1863. The sun scorched Gettysburg’s rolling fields, but th...
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Apr 06 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped his cannon’s lanyard with a soldier’s death grip. Bullets tore through the air like vengeful spirits. Blood mixed with dust in the July heat. His artillery crew fell around h...
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