Charles N. DeGlopper's Medal of Honor Sacrifice at Hill 130

Nov 11 , 2025

Charles N. DeGlopper's Medal of Honor Sacrifice at Hill 130

Charles N. DeGlopper stood alone against a hailstorm of enemy fire. His trembling hands clutched a rifle, the weight of his brothers’ lives heavy on his shoulders. The bridge behind him was the last line before certain slaughter. One by one, his squad slipped away under cover. He stayed. He held the line. Bullets tore through air and flesh. But he fired on. Until his lifeblood soaked the ground beneath a shattered Normandy sky. This was no random act of desperation—it was deliberate sacrifice.

The Making of a Soldier and a Man

Born in 1921, Charles grew up in the rural folds of New York, grounded in hard work and simple faith. Raised by a family steeped in church and community, he carried with him the quiet resilience of men who knew suffering but trusted in mercy.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” This wasn’t just scripture for him—it was a code etched into every choice: to protect, to serve, to lay down one’s life if need be.

He enlisted in the Army in 1942, joining the 82nd Airborne Division, a unit bubbling with grit and fight. Jump boots traded for dirt, he learned fast that valor was measured not by medals but by the moments you faced death head-on and chose courage.

The Battle That Defined Him: Normandy, June 9, 1944

Hill 130 was a rocky, godforsaken ridge in the clutches of German guns and machine fire. The 507th Parachute Infantry Regiment was tasked with seizing that ground—an impossible task in the eyes of many.

On the second day after D-Day, enemy forces counterattacked fiercely. American units began a strategic withdrawal to regroup. DeGlopper’s squad was in that deadly retreat. As his comrades fell back, a gap opened—one that would expose the whole battalion.

Without hesitation, Charles stepped forward. Alone, he mounted that blasted ridge to cover his fellow soldiers’ retreat. Gallantly, he fired his M1 rifle under a storm of bullets, grenades bursting like thunder around him.

“He was the first man to move forward, firing his rifle with devastating effect,” the Medal of Honor citation reads.

Each pull of the trigger was a prayer, a stand against the chaos. His sacrifice bought critical time. But it came at a terrible price: Charles was mortally wounded, collapsing on the cold earth, eyes fixed on the retreating shadows of his brothers-in-arms.

This was the moment that separated soldiers from legends.

Recognition Born of Sacrifice

Charles DeGlopper was awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously—the nation’s highest mark of valor. His citation, presented to his family, didn’t glorify death. It honored selflessness and unwavering commitment in the face of overwhelming odds:

“By his gallant and voluntary action, Pfc. DeGlopper delayed the advancing enemy, enabling the withdrawal of the remainder of his company without great loss in men.”

Leaders who served alongside him remembered a man who understood the weight of brotherhood better than anyone. General Matthew Ridgway, commander of the 82nd Airborne, spoke plainly of DeGlopper’s legacy:

“In every generation, a few prove themselves heroes. Charles was one of those.”

A Legacy Written in Blood and Courage

DeGlopper’s story is more than historical fact. It’s a living testament to the cost of freedom and the redemptive power of sacrifice. His name is carved on memorials, his grave a silent sentinel for all who answer the call.

The bridge at La Fière—that blasted choke point—stands as a monument to grit and resolve in the face of death. Visitors pause, reflecting on a man who gave more than years of life—he gave his soul for his brothers.

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

His sacrifice echoes through every veteran’s scar and every tear shed in the quiet moments after war. It reminds us that courage is often lonely. It reminds us that legacy isn’t measured in medals or ceremonies, but in deeds that keep others alive.

Charles N. DeGlopper died young. But his story breathes eternal fire. A charge not just to fight—but to stand, to shield, and when called, to fall with purpose.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History – Medal of Honor citation for Charles N. DeGlopper 2. Richard Tregaskis, Band of Brothers – accounts of 507th Parachute Infantry Regiment in Normandy 3. U.S. Army Airborne & Special Operations Museum – archives on Hill 130 engagement, June 1944