Feb 04 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing stood alone at the crest of Cemetery Ridge—his cannons roaring defiance into a sea of gray, smoke, and death. Blood pumped through gritted teeth. His legs shattered. His arms numb. Y...
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Feb 03 , 2026
At Gettysburg’s sickening roar, a young artillery officer faced death head-on. Alonzo Cushing stood fast. Musket fire tore flesh; cannonballs tore earth and men. His hand collapsed in blood, yet th...
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Jan 31 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing never flinched as death tore through his veins. The roar of cannon fire churned the Pennsylvania air, shrouded in smoke and desperation. His hands gripped the brass of his artillery ...
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Jan 28 , 2026
The smoke chokes the air. Cannon fire rips earth apart. Amid the chaos, one man stands steady—blood spilling from his shattered chest, fingers trembling but never releasing the lanyard that fires t...
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Jan 27 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing stood alone in that hellish hail of iron and smoke, his cannon belching fury while his blood streamed down the hill. Wounded through the chest, his fingers gripped the ramrod like li...
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Jan 25 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing lay mortally wounded amid the hail of cannon fire, the roar of musketry burning like hell around him. Yet, finger stiff on the lanyard, he ordered his battery to fire again—unyieldin...
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