Charles DeGlopper's Medal of Honor Stand at Normandy

Dec 08 , 2025

Charles DeGlopper's Medal of Honor Stand at Normandy

Charles DeGlopper’s final stand didn’t happen in some fog of distant history. It happened in a lightning flash of steel and blood—alone, holding a burning hill against an entire enemy tide. His rifle cracked like thunder, every round sent to buy time. His body fell, riddled. But his sacrifice saved lives. That’s the raw, brutal truth about valor.

Roots of a Warrior

Born in Rockland County, New York, 1921, Charles DeGlopper grew up with a quiet resolve, a kid shaped by small-town grit and honest labor. A mechanic before the war, he knew hard work meant more than doing—it was being. He carried a deep respect for duty and an unshakable faith, something that anchored him when chaos screamed loudest.

He lived by a code older than armies: serve beyond self, protect those beside you, and trust the hand that holds the future. For with God nothing shall be impossible (Luke 1:37). This was no cheap hope—it was the steel of his spirit.

The Battle That Defined Him

June 9, 1944. Normandy’s terrain was soaked with sweat, mud, and death. DeGlopper, a private in the 325th Glider Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, found himself on the rugged slopes near La Fière.

The unit was pinned, facing a relentless German counterattack. Orders were clear—cover the retreat at all costs. DeGlopper stepped forward, armed with a single M1 rifle, no backup, no safety net. The enemy poured through fields and woods, machine guns chattering like storms.

DeGlopper’s position turned into a crucible. His rifle spit fire as he held the hill, drawing concentrated enemy fire. He was alone, exposed to the fury, but unyielding. His actions stalled the enemy long enough for his company to withdraw safely.

Minutes stretched like hours. When DeGlopper fell, it was with enemies practically on him and comrades escaping behind him. His body was never recovered. His stand was a sacrificial defiance—one man against death’s advance.

Recognition in Blood and Bronze

For that desperate stand, Charles N. DeGlopper was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor on August 30, 1944—the nation’s highest recognition for valor under fire[1].

His citation tells the story: “With complete disregard for his personal safety and in the face of intense enemy fire, Private DeGlopper single-handedly held the attacking force at bay,” allowing his unit's withdrawal. His courage was described as “above and beyond the call of duty.”

Major General Maxwell D. Taylor, commander of the 82nd Airborne, considered DeGlopper's stand an example of true bravery — “a soldier’s soldier, who made the ultimate sacrifice to save his brothers-in-arms”[2].

This was no myth or polished tale. It was blood and grit carved into the loose soils of Normandy.

A Legacy Written in Sacrifice

Charles DeGlopper’s stand echoes across generations because it reveals a hardened truth—heroism demands sacrifice. Many fought, but few gave everything, unflinchingly.

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). DeGlopper lived that scripture not as a sermon, but in action.

His sacrifice reminds us that courage is not born from absence of fear. It is forged when a man faces his end—and chooses his brothers instead.

The Glenn Curtis Bridge in New York bears his name, a testament to the man who built a path for others to follow, stained with his blood but shining with his resolve[3].

The battlefield keeps no promises. It takes without question but honors few. DeGlopper’s story demands silence from us, in awe and in debt.

He stands now not just as a hero of WWII, but as a reckoning—courage under fire is a legacy, etched in sacrifice. The cost was his life, but the gift was survival for many.

To remember him is to carry a mantle: to live with purpose, to stand for others, and to face the darkness with a rifle in your hand and faith in your heart. That, brothers and sisters, is what makes a warrior eternal.

Sources:

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, “Medal of Honor Recipients: World War II” 2. Maxwell Taylor Memoirs, “82nd Airborne: A Soldier’s Journey,” 1959 3. Rockland County Archives, “DeGlopper Bridge Dedication,” 1946