Charles DeGlopper, Medal of Honor hero at Normandy June 1944

Dec 13 , 2025

Charles DeGlopper, Medal of Honor hero at Normandy June 1944

Charles DeGlopper stood alone, a thin line between his fallen comrades and the furious storm of German fire. Bullets whipped past, every crack and whistle a death sentence. Yet he pressed on—firing, moving, bleeding—buying seconds with his life. Seconds that meant the difference between death and survival for the men behind him.

The Boy from Granville

Born 1921, Granville, New York—small town grit, simple values.

He grew up grounded in honor and faith. Raised Methodist, he carried that silent strength into battle—repentant but resolute, always bearing the weight of duty even before war found him.

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” — John 15:13, a verse that would become his blood-sworn reality.

Drafted in 1942, Private First Class Charles N. DeGlopper was part of the 82nd Airborne Division’s 325th Glider Infantry Regiment. The war wasn’t a game of glory—he knew that from the start. It was pain, sacrifice, and an unspoken pact: cover your brothers or die trying.

The Battle That Defined Him: Normandy, June 9, 1944

D-Day had passed, but the fight was far from over. The 325th marched through hedgerows, chasing German forces desperate to reclaim lost ground.

At a vital crossroads near Sainte-Mère-Église, their unit was pinned down. German machine guns ripped into their lines, and panic threatened to unhinge the fragile American position.

DeGlopper saw the tide slipping. The squad was ordered to fall back under murderous fire.

Instead of retreating, he made a choice that sealed his fate.

With a Browning Automatic Rifle in hand, DeGlopper stood exposed on a dirt road, alone. He engaged the enemy, drawing fire away from his retreating teammates. His return fire slowed the German advance.

His BAR jammed. Unflinching, he cleared it under fire and kept shooting—all the while, the enemy concentrated their wrath on his position.

Bullets found their mark, and DeGlopper collapsed, mortally wounded.

His last act: sacrifice. His comrades lived because one man faced hell and held the line.

Valor Etched in Bronze

Posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty... Although grievously wounded, he continued his fire until sustained fatal wounds... His heroic action, above and beyond the call of duty, was largely responsible for the successful withdrawal of his unit.”

82nd Airborne commander Brigadier General James M. Gavin called him:

"A man who personified the fighting spirit of the airborne forces."

Every medal and citation tells the story of a life traded for many more.

Yet, the real honor lies not in the bronze, but in the echo of his courage—a silent vow passed from soldier to soldier.

The Bloodied Code: Legacy and Redemption

Charles DeGlopper’s story is carved into the bones of the liberation of Europe.

His stand wasn’t about glory; it was necessity. The weight of leadership doesn’t always come with a rank. Sometimes, it comes with the choice to face death so others don’t have to.

His sacrifice is a brutal sermon on the battlefield creed:

“No greater love... no greater trust.”

DeGlopper teaches us the cost of freedom—paid not in abstract ideals but in raw, bleeding flesh and soul. His sacrifice demands remembrance, not as myth, but as witness.

The faces on those Normandy fields are many. Yet few shine as starkly as Charles DeGlopper’s.

He died so others might live. That is the highest form of grace, born of war’s darkest hours.

In the roar of combat, in the silence of loss, his story whispers: courage isn’t born—it is chosen, faced, and carried forward.

“He has risen; he is not here.” — Luke 24:6

From death, a legacy—redemptive, relentless, real.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Citation: Charles N. DeGlopper 2. Headquarters, 82nd Airborne Division, Combat after Action Report, Normandy Campaign, June 1944 3. James M. Gavin, Airborne Warfare, Houghton Mifflin, 1947 4. National WWII Museum, The 325th Glider Infantry Regiment in Normandy