May 25 , 2026
They say hell is a crucible. For First Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing, that hell baked in the July sun’s unforgiving glare, deep in the fields of Gettysburg. A young artillery officer, bleeding, broken,...
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May 23 , 2026
The hellfire never stops. Guns roar and men fall. Amid the storm of Gettysburg on July 3, 1863, a young artillery officer knelt—wounded, bleeding, unmoving but relentless. His hands gripped the whe...
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May 20 , 2026
The roar of cannon fire swallowed the cries of the dying. Amid the chaos of July 3, 1863, at Gettysburg, First Lieutenant Alonzo Cushing gripped the controls of his artillery battery with hands sli...
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May 19 , 2026
Smoke choked the summer air, cannonballs shrieked past, and blood slicked the red clay beneath tired boots. Amid the chaos, a young artillery officer clung to his guns, the sharp taste of iron in h...
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May 17 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing knelt in the mud beneath a relentless hail of lead and iron. Smoke clawed at the sky, choking out the sun. His fingers trembled as they gripped the wheel of his artillery piece. Bloo...
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May 16 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing’s hands never shook. Amid the iron rain, the screams, the smoke curling like sin, he clung to his breach, keeping cannon fire alive through the chaos at Gettysburg. Wounded, bleedi...
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