May 12 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the artillery ramrod tighter than life itself as enemy fire tore through the fields around him. Blood coursed through his fingers, seeping from wounds no man should bear. Yet...
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May 11 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the cold bronze handles of his cannon at Cemetery Ridge. Bullets screamed past. The roar of Union and Confederate artillery swallowed the air. Blood seeped through his unifor...
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May 10 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s hands trembled—not from fear, but from blood loss. Around him, the roar of cannon fire raged like hell itself. The earth was mud and death, smoke and shattered steel. His battery w...
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May 09 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s last stand wasn’t the clash of rifles or the thunder of cavalry charges. It was the relentless crush of artillery shells tearing through the smoke, the agony of shattered legs, and...
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May 08 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing knelt alone amidst screaming cannon fire, blood pounding in his ears. The sun beat down on Cemetery Ridge. His arm shattered, his leg mangled, he refused to abandon his post. The can...
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May 02 , 2026
Smoke choked the dawn sky. Cannons thundered, smoke blurring reality with hell. Amid the carnage, one young officer refused to quit. Alonzo Cushing, barely 22, stood his ground through the deafenin...
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