Oct 09 , 2025
The air burned dusty and thick over Cemetery Ridge. The sky bled smoke. Alonzo Cushing, barely more than a boy with the weight of a nation on his shoulders, gritted his teeth and ordered his guns t...
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Oct 08 , 2025
Alonzo Cushing’s hands shook, blood dripping from shattered fingers. The guns fell silent in front of him, but he kept firing— on borrowed breath, on sheer will alone. His artillery piece roared de...
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Oct 07 , 2025
Alonzo Cushing stood amid chaos and death, clutching his shattered cannon’s wheel. Blood washed over his uniform as bullets sliced the air, smoke stinging his eyes. His left arm torn open, his thig...
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Oct 07 , 2025
Alonzo Cushing's last stand at Gettysburg was a storm of iron and fire. Amid shattered cannon, smoke-choked air, and screaming men, he sat firm behind his artillery wheel, blood leaking from mortal...
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Oct 06 , 2025
Blood on the Highlands. Smoke chokes the air. Cannons roar like thunder ripping apart the sky. Alonzo Cushing, barely twenty years old, stands amid the chaos at Cemetery Ridge. His left arm shatter...
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Oct 06 , 2025
Blood-soaked dirt under frozen hands. The roar of artillery shakes the earth where Alonzo Cushing stands — unmoving amid chaos. Bullets like hail tear through men around him, but the guns don’t sto...
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