Jan 12 , 2026
Charles N. DeGlopper’s Normandy Stand That Earned the Medal of Honor
Charles DeGlopper waded through hell to hold a single patch of earth. His rifle cracked under the crushing weight of enemy fire. Every second stretched into eternity. His unit was retreating. The Germans were closing in. He chose to stand alone and buy his brothers time—knowing it meant death.
Bloodsoil of Normandy
Charles N. DeGlopper was a product of upstate New York—Malone, small town grit wrapped in church pews and family ties. Born in 1921, he was reared in a world still licking wounds from the last great war. Faith wasn’t just tradition for DeGlopper; it was armor. His life’s beat was steady, anchored in the lessons of sacrifice and loyalty learned at home and reinforced through the Army’s discipline.
Before the war, he worked the land. That work forged patience and toughness—a quiet honor that didn’t seek spotlight. He carried those values into service with Company C, 2nd Battalion, 16th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division—The Big Red One. A brotherhood bound by fire and faith.
The Battle That Defined Him
June 9, 1944. Three days after D-Day. The fight to secure Normandy was a grinding, bloody grind. DeGlopper’s unit was tasked with crossing a flooded orchard near La Fière, under relentless machine-gun and sniper fire.
As the assault faltered, chaos spread. Men scrambled back under the deadly hail, leaving a gap that would open the flank to annihilation.
DeGlopper saw the shape of defeat. He volunteered to cover the retreat.
Alone, exposed, he charged the enemy to draw their fire. Rifle blazing, he refused to quit. His desperate stand bought his comrades time to regroup and cross the dead waters safely.
The price was ultimate. He was hit multiple times—mortally wounded but never silent. His last act was war’s harsh hymn: cover your brothers at all costs.
"He stood, he fought, he died so others might live." — Medal of Honor Citation, 1945[1]
Medal of Honor: Blood and Valor
Posthumously awarded on November 1, 1944, the Medal of Honor cited his “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty.” His citation reads as a ledger of courage:
“With utter disregard for his own safety, he maintained a one-man stand against a numerically superior enemy to cover the withdrawal of his unit.”[1]
Lieutenant Colonel George Van Horne, regimental commander, called him a soldier of "uncommon valor with the heart of a lion." Veterans who fought alongside DeGlopper remembered his voice—steady, calm, unyielding amidst the storm.
Lessons Etched in Blood
Charles DeGlopper’s story is the raw marrow of battlefield sacrifice. His choice wasn’t a tactical maneuver but a moral stand. Valor doesn’t seek glory; it accepts sacrifice.
There is no greater love—John 15:13—"than to lay down one's life for one's friends." DeGlopper lived this verse in a flood of gunfire and death.
His legacy lives in the namesakes—the Charles N. DeGlopper Memorial Bridge near his hometown, a silent monument to a soldier who gave his last breath so others might see another dawn. The Big Red One carries his spirit, a reminder that courage—sometimes—means standing fast when all else falls.
Redemption in Sacrifice
The battlefield is a harsh teacher. Yet, in DeGlopper’s final moments, we glimpse redemption. His sacrifice sealed not just a tactical victory, but a testament to the enduring capacity for selflessness in a world tested by violence.
He died so others would survive. And in that death, he gave life to hope. Veterans wear those scars quietly—we fight shadows, memories, and ghosts. But men like Charles DeGlopper carved a path of honor through the darkness.
"Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering." — Hebrews 10:23
His blood was spilled on foreign soil but waters the roots of our freedom. Every man who steps forward to face the storm does so in the shadow of DeGlopper’s rifle.
Related Posts
Medal of Honor Hero Robert H. Jenkins Jr. Shielded Comrades
Robert H. Jenkins Jr. Medal of Honor Marine Who Smothered Grenade
Medal of Honor Marine Robert H. Jenkins Jr. Dove on a Grenade