Aug 12 , 2026
The roar of cannon fire drowned every other sound. Smoke choked the dawn on July 3, 1863, but there he was: Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing, eyes blazing through the haze, gripping the wheel of his artil...
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Aug 11 , 2026
The air was thick with smoke and death. Guns roared like thunder, tearing through the steady summer heat of July 3, 1863. Amid the chaos churned by Lee’s desperate assault, a slender figure stood f...
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Aug 10 , 2026
Blood on the Hill. Smoke choking the air. Cannons pounding like the heart of hell itself. Amid that chaos stood Alonzo Cushing, hand steady on his artillery's wheel, legs shattered but spirit unbro...
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Aug 04 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing stood at the line, deaf to the screams and roar around him. His hands clenched the rammer, pushing round after round into the cannon’s maw. Blood seeped from his shattered leg, a dar...
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Jul 31 , 2026
Blood and iron screamed through the July dawn. Amid the rolling hills of Gettysburg, July 3, 1863, Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing gripped the reins of hell. The artillery battery before him shattered th...
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Jul 30 , 2026
He bled over those guns like a soldier possessed. Alonzo Cushing stood his ground at Cemetery Ridge, the cannon a roaring heartbeat beneath the relentless pounding of Confederate assault. Muskets s...
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