22/09/2025
He was shot down at Gettysburg, July 1, 1863—his face torn by musket fire, his sight forever lost. Then, blinded and bleeding in the chaos of the Iron Brigade’s stand, Sergeant Jefferson Coates did the unthinkable: he kept fighting. At just twenty years old, he refused to falter, rallying his comrades in one of the Civil War’s bloodiest opening clashes.
Born in Wisconsin in 1843, Coates had marched off to war with Company H, 7th Wisconsin Infantry, never imagining that courage would cost him his eyes. But on that ridge outside Gettysburg, as the Union line buckled beneath Confederate fire, his valor shone. For “unsurpassed courage,” he was awarded the Medal of Honor—a medal pinned not for victory, but for a spirit too stubborn to die when darkness closed in.
It wasn’t just the medals or the words of generals that marked him, but the sheer grit of survival. Coates, robbed of sight, clawed his way back from despair, living decades beyond the war, his life a testament to endurance. Where others saw a broken man, he carried himself with quiet defiance, the medal on his chest a reminder of what he had endured and what he had given.
By the time he passed in 1901, Jefferson Coates’ name had faded into history’s margins. Yet his story still lingers, asking a question as old as battle itself: when the world goes dark, when every step forward feels impossible, what would you do? Would you surrender to fate—or would you fight on, as Coates did, blind but unbroken?