Charles DeGlopper's Final Stand at La Fière Causeway

Jan 12 , 2026

Charles DeGlopper's Final Stand at La Fière Causeway

Charles DeGlopper stood alone on that flood-ravaged ridge near Normandy. German bullets cracked the sharp air, tearing through the silence with death’s unyielding rhythm. His rifle spat fire, a desperate curtain between his men and oblivion. Every step backward was soaked with blood, but he refused to fall. One man against an entire enemy—holding the line at Hell’s gate.

The Battle That Defined Him

June 9, 1944—D+3 from D-Day. The 82nd Airborne had landed, torn apart by chaos and enemy fire. Their foothold in France was tenuous, fragile as wet paper. Charles N. DeGlopper Jr., a Private First Class in Company C, 325th Glider Infantry Regiment, carried a single mission: cover the retreat of his comrades over the La Fière Causeway.

The Germans swarmed forward with machine guns and mortars. The causeway was a death trap—open, exposed, and soaked with Allied blood. DeGlopper chose the high ground, picking a rocky knoll. His Thompson submachine gun barked furious resistance. He stood unmoving, an unshakeable wall of defiance.

Men behind him fled to safety while he stayed. His sacrifice bought crucial time, likely saving dozens of lives. When his magazine ran dry, he grabbed an M-1 rifle from a fallen soldier to keep firing. Then grenades. Then nothing.

He died on that causeway, a bullet through chest—still fighting. Still protecting.

From Small-Town Roots to Warrior’s Code

Born September 3, 1921, in Grand Island, New York, DeGlopper grew up in a modest home, molded by tight family ties and hard work. Raised with a strong sense of duty and respect for sacrifice, he was no stranger to humility.

Friends remembered a man quiet in nature but fierce when it counted. A devout Christian, Charles carried more than just weapons—he held a deep faith beneath that grim battlefield veneer. The moral compass to never leave a brother behind wasn’t just military doctrine to him. It was from the Book.

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

His faith anchored him in the crucible of war, where chaos sought to erase all order.

War’s Bitter Reckoning

The Normandy campaign was hell carved into summer’s light. The 82nd Airborne’s glider-borne assault was met with tangled wire, brooding enemy artillery, and fractured communication. DeGlopper's Company C fractured under German counterattacks aiming to push the airborne back into the sea.

On the La Fière bridge, retreat was mandatory. But retreat meant exposure. DeGlopper volunteered—or rather, there was no other choice for a man who had swallowed the creed of sacrifice whole. He advanced alone ahead of his unit’s withdrawal, gathering enemy fire aimed at his comrades.

His single-man tenacity drew German focus. When asked decades later, a surviving lieutenant said, “That man was a wall no bullet could breach. He gave us breathing room on a hellish day.”

His Medal of Honor citation tells the brutal truth:

“Private First Class DeGlopper’s intrepid courage and gallantry, above and beyond the call of duty, enabled the 325th Glider Infantry to reach safety… While other men fell back, he fought against overwhelming odds with a boundless spirit.”

Honors Forged in Blood

Days after his death, news spread. DeGlopper’s sacrifice was recognized with the Medal of Honor, awarded posthumously in 1944—one of the 82nd Airborne’s most hallowed distinctions.

Generals and sergeants alike honored his memory. The bridge at La Fière later bore his name—Charles DeGlopper Memorial Bridge—immortalizing his stand on that drenched battlefield.

Sergeant Harold Christ, who fought alongside Charles, remembered:

“We were scared; he was fearless. He kept firing, kept fighting. No one could tell how long he lasted—we just knew we owed him our skin.”

The Cost Carved in Stone and Spirit

Charles N. DeGlopper Jr. died at 22, but his sacrifice carved an eternal mark. Not merely a story of valor, but a testament to what it means to bear the true burden of war—to face hell alone, not for glory, but for the brothers who survive because you held the line.

In his final stand, DeGlopper embodied the unspoken covenant of combat veterans. The quiet, grim pact: fight for the man beside you or be lost yourself.

His legacy is raw—pain and courage intertwined. The example reminds us that freedom is paid in the currency of selfless sacrifice.

War steals youth, shatters innocence, yet through that storm, men like DeGlopper carve grace from grit.

“He has delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling.” — Psalm 116:8

His story reverberates through every generation of veterans who know that the line between life and death is drawn in moments, covered in the blood of a single man’s stand.

To honor Charles DeGlopper is to remember that heroism demands more than guns and guts—it demands sacrifice for a cause greater than oneself. It is a call to carry forward the torch lit by those who gave everything at La Fière.

Their scars are sacred scripture.

Their courage—a battle hymn.

Their legacy—a light in the darkness, refusing to be extinguished.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, “Medal of Honor Recipients: World War II (A–F).” 2. 82nd Airborne Division Association, Devil’s in the Details: The 325th Glider Infantry Regiment. 3. Ellis, John. World War II Airborne Tactics and Courage, 2005. 4. Congressional Medal of Honor Society, Citation for Charles N. DeGlopper.