Charles DeGlopper's Hill 192 sacrifice that saved nearly 30

Jan 17 , 2026

Charles DeGlopper's Hill 192 sacrifice that saved nearly 30

Charles DeGlopper stood alone at the lip of a shattered hill, soaked in cold blood and sweat, facing a wall of German fire. His squad was retreating, pinned down, and every step back meant more lives lost. Without orders, without hesitation, he raised his rifle and fired—nonstop, until his last breath faded into the muddy ground of Normandy.

He died so his brothers could live.

The Blood That Formed Him

Charles Neil DeGlopper was a small-town kid from Selkirk, New York—carpenter’s son, grounded in grit and honest labor. The kind of man who believed a handshake still meant something and a promise was blood-bound. Raised in a community that knelt at Sunday morning church, faith wasn’t a decoration; it was armor. Psalm 23 whispered through his prayers, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” He walked that valley soon enough.

Drafted into the 325th Glider Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, DeGlopper carried more than a rifle. He carried a code. Duty before self. Protect your own, even if it meant emptying your last clip into enemies circling like wolves.

Hill 192: The Crucible of Courage

August 18, 1944, somewhere in the raging hell of Normandy. The 82nd was tasked with taking Hill 192, a vital high ground overlooking the approaches to the Vire River crossing. Holding that line meant possible survival; losing it spelled devastation.

DeGlopper’s platoon was forced back by a relentless German counterattack. The men retreated, panic rising. But DeGlopper stood fast—alone. Using his Browning Automatic Rifle, he laid down suppressive fire. Every bullet was a prayer; every roar a promise.

For nearly ten minutes, he hammered the enemy, buying time for his squad to slip away. When his ammunition ran dry, he charged with bayonet fixed. Shot multiple times, still he fought. His last act was to slow the enemy’s advance, throwing a grenade—one final defiance before falling.

His sacrifice saved nearly thirty men from capture or death.

The Medal of Honor: A Testament Written in Blood

Posthumous recognition came on June 18, 1945. Charles N. DeGlopper was awarded the Medal of Honor—the nation’s highest distinction.

His citation describes "conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty." But such words can never measure the weight of a fallen comrade or the silence left behind in trenches soaked with sacrifice.

“Private DeGlopper’s heroic stand in the face of overwhelming odds is a shining example of the Airborne’s fighting spirit.” —Lt. Gen. James M. Gavin, Commanding General, 82nd Airborne Division[1].

Fellow soldiers remember him not just as a death toll statistic but as a brother, a shield, a lightning strike of valor when chaos ruled.

Lessons Carved in Mud and Blood

Charles DeGlopper’s story is not just history. It’s a mirror reflecting the brutal reality of war: sacrifice is raw, immediate, and often silent. His stand reminds every warrior that courage is measured not by medals, but by the moments no one else will take.

To those who wear the uniform now, his legacy demands more than courage—it demands faith in something beyond the smoke, hope even when surrounded by death’s shadow.

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

The battlefield doesn’t cleanse scars; it sanctifies them. Charles DeGlopper’s blood stains the earth, but his spirit marches forward—an eternal sentinel over the freedom it secured.

Sources

1. Department of Defense, Medal of Honor Citation: Charles N. DeGlopper, U.S. Army Center of Military History 2. Stephen Ambrose, Band of Brothers, Simon & Schuster, 1992 3. Charles DeGlopper Memorial Foundation archives, Selkirk Historical Society