Feb 19 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing stood at his gun as chaos tore through the fields of Gettysburg. Blood oozed down his arms; his leg shattered beneath him, yet still, he barked orders to his men. The weight of artil...
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Feb 18 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing knelt behind his battery on Cemetery Ridge, blood pouring from a wound that should have ended him. His hand gripped the lanyard, dragging down the firing cord again and again. The Co...
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Feb 16 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped his cannon’s lever as bullets tore the air around his artillery pit. Blood streaming from shattered ribs, shaken but unyielding, he refused to fall back. The guns must keep f...
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Feb 15 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the cold iron of his cannon as musket balls whistled past, one after another tearing through the air like death’s own choir. Pain blistered in his chest, but his finger never...
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Feb 14 , 2026
Smoke chokes the air. Cannon fire tears through bodies and earth alike. Amid the chaos, a young artillery officer kneels over his guns, wounded through the chest, yet refusing to yield. His voice r...
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Feb 14 , 2026
The guns roared. The smoke choked the sky. Amid the thunder of cannon and cries of dying men, a young artillery officer refused to quit. Blood poured from his wounds, yet he remained at his post—st...
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