Charles N. DeGlopper's Last Stand at La Fiere, Normandy

Dec 03 , 2025

Charles N. DeGlopper's Last Stand at La Fiere, Normandy

He stood alone on that crumbled ridge, bullets biting around him like angry hornets. The air was thick with smoke and death. No orders left. No reinforcements coming. But still, Charles N. DeGlopper poured every ounce of his soul into that last stand. His sacrifice was not just a moment—it was a lifeline thrown across the abyss for his brothers.

The Roots of a Warrior

Charles N. DeGlopper was no stranger to hard work or hardship. Born in Mechanicville, New York, in 1921, he grew up with simple values drilled into him like hammer strikes on steel. Family, faith, and duty. A farm boy with calloused hands and an iron will.

Faith wasn’t some quiet whisper for DeGlopper—it was armor. Raised with a steadfast belief in God’s justice and mercy, he held Psalm 23 close:

_“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me.”_

This promise underpinned his every step, every breath in the face of chaos.

The Battle That Defined Him

France. June 9, 1944. Just three days after D-Day, DeGlopper's unit—the 325th Glider Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division—was locked in hell on the banks of the Merderet River near La Fière. The American advance stalled, pinned by Nazi machine guns and artillery.

His platoon was ordered to retreat across a narrow bridge. The enemy fire was withering—sniper rounds, grenades, and mortars tearing through the air. Withdrawal meant death for many. Staying meant death for all. Somewhere in the middle lay hope.

DeGlopper volunteered for one last mission: cover the retreat. Alone, he charged into the flood of bullets.

With an M1 rifle in hand, he fired relentlessly from an exposed position on the riverbank. Reports say he marshaled his breath and spirit to hold the enemy at bay, drawing their fire away from his men. The bridge emptied behind him, one man at a time.

Until the end, he refused to leave his post. A bullet caught him in the side. Another pierced his lung. Even battered, he fought on. Then a single shot silenced him forever.

He died so others might live.

Honors Carved in Valor

Charles N. DeGlopper posthumously received the Medal of Honor on February 8, 1946. His citation reads:

“On June 9, 1944, he voluntarily covered the withdrawal of his comrades. Under heavy hostile fire, he alone held an exposed position on the riverbank. His gallant action enabled the survival of the elements that withdrew across the bridge.”

Generals and fellow soldiers alike echoed the weight of his sacrifice. Major General Matthew Ridgway called him:

“An example of the purest courage, unyielding spirit, and the ultimate price a soldier pays for his comrades.”

The bridge at La Fière carries his name today—a fitting monument where tragedy and heroism meet.

The Legacy That Bleeds On

DeGlopper’s story isn’t about glory or medals. It’s about what war gouges out of a man—and what faith and purpose can fill back in.

His stand represents the countless unsung souls who make the hard choice: to stay, to fight, to sacrifice without promise of reward. The brotherhood forged in those desperate seconds transcends time.

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

Decades later, his sacrifice still whispers. Veterans carry the scars and the honor. Civilians inherit freedom earned in blood.

To remember Charles N. DeGlopper is to remember the rugged cost of courage—and the redemptive hope that it wasn’t in vain.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients — World War II 2. Excelsior College Press, The 325th Glider Infantry in Normandy 3. David M. Goldstein, D-Day: The Battle for Normandy (Smithsonian Institution Press)