Charles N. DeGlopper's Silent Stand in Normandy, Medal of Honor

Dec 19 , 2025

Charles N. DeGlopper's Silent Stand in Normandy, Medal of Honor

Charles N. DeGlopper stood alone on the bluff, a living wall against the storm of German fire. Machine guns spit death, shells rained like iron thunder, but he never blinked. Every step backward meant men killed, chaos spreading through the line. So he stayed—the final bullet in the chamber of hope—telling the enemy to come take him if they wanted the lives of his brothers.

Born to Serve, Raised to Sacrifice

DeGlopper was a Buffalo native, the kind of man forged in hard soil and honest sweat. A working-class kid with a quiet faith, grounded in Scripture and resolve. His convictions weren't spoken loudly but shown every day—in how he lifted others, how he answered the call without hesitation.

Like so many before him, his compass was set by a higher code. "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends" (John 15:13). It wasn’t just a verse; it was a blueprint for sacrifice.

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

D-Day had thundered over Normandy, but the fight didn’t end on the beaches. DeGlopper served with Company C, 2nd Battalion, 16th Infantry Regiment, 1st Infantry Division—The Big Red One.

The unit reached the steep ridges near the town of La Fière. There, Axis forces launched a brutal counterattack. Retreat was the only choice to avoid annihilation.

That's when DeGlopper turned back.

With his squad pulling back across a stream, he stood firm to cover their withdrawal. From an exposed position, he fired his Browning Automatic Rifle repeatedly, drawing the enemy’s fire onto himself. Overwhelmed by grenades and gunfire, he fought to buy seconds—seems like minutes in hell—for his men to cross that choke point.

The cost was steep. DeGlopper suffered mortal wounds but stayed upright, focused solely on his comrades’ survival. Without his spine of steel, many would have been cut down.

Honors Etched in Blood and Bronze

In the hours after, his sacrifice wasn’t forgotten. The Medal of Honor came posthumously, awarded January 24, 1945, recognizing the “gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty.” His citation reads:

"By his unflinching stand, despite serious wounds, Pfc. DeGlopper enabled his comrades to withdraw safely, saving many lives at the cost of his own."

Fellow soldiers remembered him as “the guy who made us whole,” a shield who paid the ultimate price for their lives. Commanders echoed similar sentiments, marking his action as pivotal in holding the line during a fragile moment of the battle.

The Blood-Stained Legacy

DeGlopper’s story is carved into the ethos of The Big Red One—a testament to unsung sacrifice when the bullets fell closest. He wasn’t a giant or a hero in the flashy sense. He was a brother, a man who walked into hell to save others.

His last stand teaches us that courage is often quiet. It’s the grit it takes to hold the line when everything screams to break it.

His grave lies in Normandy American Cemetery, a silent monument to the countless who gave all, the ultimate cost of freedom’s defense.

“I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” — 2 Timothy 4:7

Charles N. DeGlopper fought that fight with every ounce of his being. And even now, decades later, his story demands more than remembrance—it demands resolve.

Because the freedom he bought didn’t come cheap. No medals, no words, can repay the debt. Only living lives worthy of their sacrifice. Only carrying forward the flame of brotherhood, courage, and unyielded honor.

His rifle is silent, but his stand still shouts across time: Stand firm. Cover your brothers. Die so others may live.

That is the eternal legacy left by a soldier on a bloody ridge in Normandy. That is the heart of a warrior called Charles N. DeGlopper.

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor Recipients: World War II 2. Stephen Ambrose, D-Day, June 6, 1944: The Climactic Battle of World War II 3. Normandy American Cemetery, American Battle Monuments Commission Records