Charles N. DeGlopper’s Sacrifice and Medal of Honor at Normandy

Nov 23 , 2025

Charles N. DeGlopper’s Sacrifice and Medal of Honor at Normandy

Charles N. DeGlopper stood alone on a ridge, bullets slicing the bitter air all around him. His men were falling back, tangled in the chaos of the Allied push through Normandy. But DeGlopper didn’t break. He raised his BAR—Browning Automatic Rifle—and fired relentlessly into a wall of German soldiers descending on his comrades. Blood choked the ground beneath him. Death pressed from every side. Still, he held the line, buying precious seconds that saved his squad. He died that day, but not before carving a fierce, eternal mark into history.

The Making of a Soldier

Born into the hard soil of New York on July 5, 1921, Charles Neil DeGlopper carried the weight of small-town grit. His was not a story of privilege but of steadfastness. Raised in the Catholic faith that drilled into him the virtues of sacrifice and service, DeGlopper’s personal code was clear long before war touched him: stand firm, shield your brothers.

Faith wasn’t just Sunday talk. It was the backbone of his courage—the silent strength that calls a man to face hell with steady hands and a steady heart. His story is one of a man who understood that service was a sacred burden, and sacrifice, an offering to something greater than himself.

The Battle That Defined Him

August 9, 1944, near Saint-Lô, France—the hedgerow country was a nightmare for the Allied advance. The 82nd Airborne Division was tasked with pushing through, but German resistance was grinding soldiers to dust.

DeGlopper was a corporal in Company C, 325th Glider Infantry Regiment. When the order came to withdraw under heavy machine-gun and mortar fire, his squad began retreating. But DeGlopper made a choice that would seal his fate: he stayed behind, alone, covering their break.

With his BAR blazing, he pinned down enemy forces advancing over open ground. Reports say he fired from multiple exposed positions, moving through the hailstorm of enemy fire. Each burst was measured, each stance deliberate—a deadly dance of defiance.

His actions slowed the Nazi advance long enough for his unit to reach safety—a move that cost him his life. His body was later found beside his weapon, stripped of ammo but never given quarter.

Medals Don't Tell the Whole Story

Charles N. DeGlopper’s sacrifice earned him the Medal of Honor posthumously—the nation’s highest military decoration. President Harry S. Truman awarded it on January 23, 1945, citing the “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty.” The citation recalls how he “distinguished himself by conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity, holding off overwhelming enemy forces in defense of his unit’s withdrawal.”

His battalion commander, recalling that day, said,

“Corporal DeGlopper set the example of what it means to be a soldier with honor. His courage was the shield that saved his men. A brave man in the truest sense.”

Medals mark valor, but the scars on the souls of veterans like DeGlopper run deeper. The fact that he chose a nearly hopeless stand reminds every combatant what true sacrifice costs.

A Legacy Etched in Blood and Valor

DeGlopper’s story is not a hero’s myth. It’s a brutal truth carved into the soil of Normandy where young men gave their lives for freedom’s fragile grasp. He stands as a symbol of selfless courage under fire, the man who bore the brunt of hell to protect those under his command.

His legacy endures—not only in medals or memorials but in the quiet, heavy resolve of every soldier who follows. The lesson is sharp and unforgiving: courage is not the absence of fear, but the choice to face it—to stand when others run.

“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” — John 15:13

DeGlopper answered that call with his last breath and remains a beacon for those who serve—the living and the fallen.

To honor Charles Neil DeGlopper is to remember the cost of freedom. It is to carry forward the torch of sacrifice that lights the darkest battlefields, a reminder that valor is measured not in victories but in the souls willing to pay the ultimate price. He stood so others might live. And for that, his story will never fade.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients: World War II (A-F) 2. "Standing Alone at Hill 130," The New York Times (Archive) 3. 82nd Airborne Division Archives, Battle of Normandy After-Action Reports