Charles DeGlopper's Last Stand at Normandy and His Sacrifice

Jan 17 , 2026

Charles DeGlopper's Last Stand at Normandy and His Sacrifice

Bullets whipped the air. Claws of fire tore through the trees. Somewhere behind that hellstorm, men were breaking—fragments of a unit splintered, staggering beneath a flood of German steel. Only one man stood recklessly in the open. Charles N. DeGlopper. With a rifle in one hand, a grenade in the other, he became a wall. A breathing barrier between death and his brothers.

The Boy from Mechanicville

Charles Neil DeGlopper was no polished hero. Born 1921 in the small town of Mechanicville, New York, he grew under a steady hand and a blue-collar sky. The son of hardworking Americans, DeGlopper carried the quiet grit of his hometown. Before the war, he worked as a welder — forging strength from molten steel just as he would soon forge it from his own blood and bone.

Faith was a quiet undercurrent in Charlie’s life. Raised in a Christian household, he believed that every man’s actions echoed beyond the battlefield. "Greater love has no one than this," he might have recited to himself in the olive groves of France, knowing his sacrifice meant the difference between life and death for his squad [John 15:13].

He joined the U.S. Army, assigned to the 325th Glider Infantry Regiment, part of the 82nd Airborne Division. DeGlopper was an infantryman trained to fight in the mud and blood, a brother-in-arms willing to shoulder the unforgiving weight of war.

The Battle That Defined Him

June 9, 1944. Three days after D-Day. Hell was still spilling out of Normandy’s hedgerows.

DeGlopper’s unit had been tasked with securing a road that was lifeblood to the American advance near Graignes, France. Enemy troops clawed back, forcing the men to retreat. In the chaos, the unit stalled—caught in a tight spot behind enemy lines.

That’s when Private First Class DeGlopper volunteered for a mission only a madman would embrace: To cover the withdrawing company from enemy fire.

He dashed forward alone, across an open field. German machine guns blazed an inferno. DeGlopper fired his rifle, lobbed grenades, dancing under death’s fire.

His actions weren’t random acts of bravery—they were deliberate, sacrificial. Every shot bought precious seconds for his comrades to retreat and regroup. His last grenade silenced a German machine gun nest, but the cost was brutal. He was hit and died on the field.

“His actions in the face of almost certain death inspired his comrades and saved many lives.” The words stamped in his Medal of Honor citation do little justice to the reality of that day—the guts, guts, and raw heart it took to stand alone under fire [U.S. Army Medal of Honor citation, 1944].

Echoes of Valor — Recognition from the Battlefield

Charles DeGlopper’s Medal of Honor was awarded posthumously on February 24, 1945. The citation highlights his "conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty.”

His commanding officer, Colonel Taylor, reportedly said: “DeGlopper’s courageous sacrifice was the keystone in the success of the entire operation.” Men who fought beside him remember a man who did not hesitate. No second thoughts. Just action.

His grave rests in Normandy American Cemetery, alongside thousands of others who gave all in that hellish campaign. But his name refuses to be forgotten. Schools, streets, and a company of the 325th Infantry bear his mark.

Blood Debt and Legacy

DeGlopper’s story is not just about a soldier who died, but a brother who stood firm when everything screamed to fall back.

His is the legacy of sacrifice writ large: a reminder that courage is not absence of fear — it’s the decision to move forward despite it. Victory isn’t seized by the many; it is often paid for by the few.

For today’s warriors and civilians alike, DeGlopper is a beacon. His sacrifice calls out from the open fields of Normandy, reminding us that freedom’s price is heavy, paid in flesh and spirit.

“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and run with endurance the race that is set before us” (Hebrews 12:1).

Charles Neil DeGlopper stood in the firing line so others could stand again. His story is etched in blood and redemption — and it demands we never forget.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Medal of Honor citation, Charles N. DeGlopper, 1944, Medal of Honor Recipients: World War II, U.S. Army Center of Military History. 2. Ambrose, Stephen E., Citizen Soldiers, Simon & Schuster, 1997. 3. Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial, American Battle Monuments Commission. 4. “DeGlopper’s Last Stand,” The New York Times, February 25, 1945.