Jul 10 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the wheel of his cannon, bones crushed, blood soaking his uniform, the enemy pressing hard from all sides. His voice cracked through the smoke: “Keep firing.” Every shot, a p...
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Jul 09 , 2026
The cannons roared. Smoke choked the horizon. Blood pounded in his ears—but there was no faltering, no retreat. Alonzo Cushing, young Union artillery officer, knelt under fire, mortally wounded yet...
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Jul 07 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s hands gripped the cold iron of his cannon. The smoke choked the air. Bullets hummed past, ripping through men and earth alike. The battle’s roar was deafening. Wounded deep, bleedi...
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Jul 06 , 2026
Bloodied Hands, Steadfast Heart The thunder of cannonballs tore through the smoky haze of Gettysburg on July 3, 1863. Amidst the screaming metal and choking dust, First Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing, b...
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Jul 05 , 2026
The cannon roared just feet from his bloodied hands. Alonzo Cushing, barely twenty years old, refused to yield. Wounds tore flesh and bone as bullets and shells shredded the ground around Battery A...
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Jul 02 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing bled out in the dust of Little Round Top. Not a single artillery gun stopped firing under his command. His grip never faltered. The enemy swarmed like a storm, but Cushing’s six cann...
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