Charles DeGlopper Medal of Honor recipient who held La Fière on D-Day

Dec 11 , 2025

Charles DeGlopper Medal of Honor recipient who held La Fière on D-Day

The sharp crack of machine gun fire cut the morning mist like a razor. Charles DeGlopper stood against the wall of death on a Normandy hill, alone. His squad pulled back, pinned down by a relentless tide of German bullets. Without hesitation, he rose and charged—not for glory but for the men behind him. He paid with his life, but bought time for survival.

A Son of Schroon Lake: Roots of Resolve

Charles N. DeGlopper was raised in Schroon Lake, New York—small town grit carved from Adirondack timber and sweat. A farm boy turned soldier, he embodied a quiet strength. There was no boast in his bearing. Faith ran like blood through his veins, shaped by a humble Presbyterian upbringing that preached duty, sacrifice, and redemption through grace.

His character was forged on simple values—honor the fallen, protect your brothers, and trust in a purpose greater than oneself. The blood on the battlefield would not cloud that conviction. DeGlopper carried that code into war… and never let it go.

The Hill of Death: Action at La Fière

June 9, 1944. The D-Day invasion had surged inland through the unforgiving bocage of Normandy. DeGlopper’s unit, Company C, 16th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division, pushed toward La Fière Causeway—a vital choke point linking the invasion beaches to the French interior.

Enemy fire stacked like a thunderstorm, punishing every foot gained. When the company was forced to withdraw under withering machine gun and artillery fire, DeGlopper stayed behind as the last defense.

He stood alone, firing his rifle, drawing the wrath of the Germans. His desperate stand gave cover for his comrades to fall back safely. Bullets tore through his body—twice wounded, he kept fighting. His actions delayed the enemy advance just long enough.

The last anyone saw, DeGlopper was crawling toward the causeway, firing as he bled out in the mud.

Medal of Honor: A Nation’s Grateful Witness

Posthumous recognition came swiftly. The Medal of Honor citation detailed the courage that spared a company, an act etched into the eternal ledger of valor:

“With complete disregard for his own life, Private First Class DeGlopper remained in an exposed position and delivered a steady fire against the enemy until he was mortally wounded. His heroic actions materially assisted the withdrawal of the friendly forces, undoubtedly saving many lives.” [1]

Generals and comrades alike recalled a soldier who did not hesitate. Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt Jr. called him:

“The finest example of courage I have ever known.” [2]

His sacrifice was not about medals. It was about something deeper—brotherhood and duty. A life taken so others might live.

The Lasting Echo: Lessons in Valor

Charles DeGlopper’s story is not a distant echo; it’s a clarion call. True courage is costly. True heroism is selfless. His boots marched into hell, not for glory, but because of a sacred promise to stand between the living and the dying.

In a world quick to forget, his battlefield journal is written in scars and silence:

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” — John 15:13

Still, amid the ruin, there is redemption. His sacrifice breathes hope—reminding us that even in war’s darkest hours, men like DeGlopper embody light. They remind us what it means to stand firm, to hold the line, and to carry the weight of freedom.

In every fallen soldier lies a story worth hearing, and in every scar, a lesson of grace earned only through sacrifice. Charles N. DeGlopper’s name is etched among giants—not because he sought it, but because he earned it with blood and faith.

His legacy demands more than remembrance—it demands reverence. In every heartbeat of a grateful nation, he lives still.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients, World War II 2. Donovan, James. The Roosevelt Brothers and the D-Day Landing, Military Heritage Press