Jan 11 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing never flinched as bullets tore the sky overhead. The ground shook beneath him, cannons roared, men cried out in agony. But he stayed planted, fists steady on his artillery’s wheel. W...
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Jan 09 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s hands gripped the wheel of his cannon as bullets tore the summer air. Blood slicked his fingers. A bullet ripped open his abdomen, yet he stayed—refusing to let the guns fall silen...
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Jan 08 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s hands didn’t falter. Blood poured, eyes blurred, but his cannon roared defiance atop Cemetery Ridge. Bullets tore flesh, artillery shells exploded, chaos unfurled all around. Yet, ...
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Jan 08 , 2026
Blood-soaked powder filled his lungs. Bones shattered, flesh torn, yet the cannon roared again. Alonzo Cushing, Lieutenant at battery command, refused to yield. His artillery crew fell away beneath...
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Jan 07 , 2026
Blood on the guns, smoke in the air, the world collapsing at Gettysburg. Alonzo Cushing stood his ground. Twice wounded, the youngest artillery officer held open the gates to defeat with cold steel...
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Jan 06 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing knelt behind his cannon, smoke choking the air, as bullets tore through the steely haze. His hand, shattered and bleeding, gripped the lanyard tight. The Confederate tide surged forw...
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