Charles DeGlopper's WWII Sacrifice at Normandy and Medal of Honor

Jan 08 , 2026

Charles DeGlopper's WWII Sacrifice at Normandy and Medal of Honor

Charles N. DeGlopper stood alone in the pouring rain, bullets ripping at the earth around him. His voice, raw and urgent, bellowed orders through the chaos. Behind him, his unit scrambled to get out of the chokehold. He remained a human shield, the last line between his brothers and death. Every step backward was paid for with fire and blood. No hesitation. Just steel and sacrifice.

The Boy Before the Soldier

Born in 1921, Charles came from the rolling hills of Watertown, New York — a blue-collar kid with calloused hands and faith that anchored him. Raised by a proud family and shaped by a small-town village church, his moral compass was unshakable. He believed every life had weight, every act mattered. That conviction wasn’t fluff; it was the battle-tested truth he carried to war.

Before he wore the uniform, Charles was a son, a neighbor, a friend. But when the world cracked under the roar of global conflict, he didn’t flinch. He answered the call with resolve made of granite and heart forged in prayer.

The Battle That Defined Him

June 9, 1944. Normandy, France. The 82nd Airborne Division was pinned down, caught in a merciless crossfire at a critical bridgehead near La Fière. Retreat was chaos — men falling, desperation thick as smoke. DeGlopper’s platoon was ordered to pull back. The ground trembled with enemy fire. There was no room for doubt.

Held by a single rifle and unwavering will, Charles stepped forward. He provided covering fire with a Browning Automatic Rifle, tearing into advancing German forces. Bullets tore through his clothing, his flesh, but he stayed. Every volley bought a sliver of salvation for his comrades. His signature act was not born from desire for glory, but from the raw urge to protect, to save — even if it meant the end.

When he finally fell, hit by multiple rounds, the retreat was secured. The bridge crossed, the mission pushed forward. His sacrifice was the keystone. “Without DeGlopper’s gallantry, many men would have been lost that day,” a 325th Glider Infantry officer would later attest^1.

Medal of Honor: Valor Etched in Blood

The Medal of Honor came posthumously, a somber acknowledgment from a grateful nation. The citation reads:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty... he delivered devastating fire on the enemy, allowing the withdrawal of his platoon... his selfless action in the face of near-certain death inspired all who witnessed it.^2

Commanders spoke of a soldier who rewrote loyalty. Fellow paratroopers remembered a man who never lowered his rifle in the storm. General Matthew Ridgway called the 82nd Airborne’s spirit “irrepressible,” but it was men like Charles who gave that spirit flesh and bone.

The Legacy Carved in Courage

DeGlopper’s story isn’t just one of death and medals. It’s a testament to the brutal poetry of sacrifice — how a single life can tip the scales between destruction and hope.

In a world drowning in blurred lines, his clarity shines:

Faith. Duty. Brotherhood — a trinity that forged steel in desperate hours.

Today, a bridge in Normandy bears his name. A plaque in Watertown tells a simple truth: one man stood in the storm so others could live free. His spirit is a beacon in the fog of modern warfare and moral ambush. He reminds us that true courage is not absence of fear, but action in spite of it.

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

His sacrifice echoes across generations — raw, real, uncompromising. Charles N. DeGlopper did not just cover the retreat; he advanced the cause of every man who believes a life worth living is worth dying for.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, "Medal of Honor Recipients — World War II" 2. Medal of Honor Citation, Charles N. DeGlopper, National Archives