Apr 11 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped his cannon’s wheel through blood and mud, the deafening roar of Gettysburg around him. His hands trembling, torn by shrapnel and bullet wounds, he wouldn’t let go. “Hold the ...
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Apr 09 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing lay bleeding, his fingers still clutching the lanyard of a cannon's firing mechanism. Around him, men fell like broken trees amid the thunderous roar of artillery and musket fire. Wo...
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Mar 12 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing stood at the guns, smoke choking the air, blood veining his hands. The roar of Confederate muskets was a living beast, hungrily clawing at the Union lines. Wounded through the chest,...
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Mar 08 , 2026
Blood and thunder rip through the morning mist. The cannons roar. Men scream. Amid the chaos, Alonzo Cushing stands firm—his legs shattered, blood flooding the ground beneath him. Still, he command...
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Mar 06 , 2026
Alonzo Cushing gripped the wheel of his artillery caisson, blood pooling beneath him, but his finger never wavered off the lanyard. The enemy advanced, rifles chattering death on Cemetery Ridge, bu...
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Mar 01 , 2026
The ground shook beneath his feet. Cannons roared like thunder ripping clouds. Blood slicked the earth. And there he was—Alonzo Cushing, eyes fixed on the dying embers of Cemetery Ridge, refusing t...
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