How Charles DeGlopper's Stand at Normandy Saved His Platoon

Jan 08 , 2026

How Charles DeGlopper's Stand at Normandy Saved His Platoon

The air cracked with gunfire. Men fell around him. But Charles N. DeGlopper stood alone, a human shield drawn in the dirt and blood of Normandy. His rifle barked defiance to a tide of German soldiers closing in. Each shot was a beat in a prayer desperate and still unbroken.

The Roots of a Warrior

Charles "Charlie" DeGlopper was born in the quiet town of Selkirk, New York, a place where hard work was gospel and faith ran steady through the veins of its sons. Raised in a family rooted in church and community, Charlie carried something more than just a rifle into World War II—he carried conviction.

He was the kind of man who lived by the creed of service, shaped by the scripture that would follow him to the edge of death:

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

Honor wasn’t a word for ceremonies. It was breath. It was protection. It was sacrifice.

The Battle That Defined Him

June 9, 1944. The breakout from the beaches of Normandy was underway, but the hell wasn’t finished. Company C, 505th Parachute Infantry Regiment, 82nd Airborne Division, was stuck. They faced a harrowing German counterattack near the town of La Fière, a crucial choke point.

Retreat was ordered. The men had to pull back or risk annihilation. But not Charlie.

He volunteered to cover the withdrawal. Alone, armed with a single M1 Garand, he held the line against a German battalion’s advance. The enemy poured fire from trenches, machine gun nests, and mortars. Bullets stitched the earth around him. His teammates retreated, but Charlie stayed.

He fired relentlessly, a one-man barrier between death and life.

Multiple wounds slowed him, but he refused to fall until the last man cleared the field. His final shots were a pulse of defiance—a heartbeat that allowed his brothers in arms to regroup.

Charlie DeGlopper died that day, the soil soaked with his sacrifice. But the line he held saved dozens.

The Medal of Honor

Posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor on June 18, 1945, DeGlopper’s citation etched a portrait of guts and grit:

“Private First Class DeGlopper distinguished himself... in action near La Fière, France, June 9, 1944. He repeatedly exposed himself to devastating machinegun and artillery fire to protect the platoon’s withdrawal. He alone prevented the complete destruction of the platoon by drawing enemy fire on himself...”

General Matthew Ridgway, commander of the 82nd Airborne, called DeGlopper’s action “the embodiment of selfless bravery,” underscoring a legacy beyond medals—a life given so others might live.

Comrades recalled his calm in chaos, a light in the inferno. One said, “He never hesitated. Never flinched... Charlie’s courage held us all.”

Enduring Legacy

Charles DeGlopper’s stand is more than a moment frozen in time. It is a testament to the raw, primal core of what it means to serve—sacrifice without condition. His sacrifice underscores the brutal truth of combat: courage isn’t the absence of fear, but the choice to act in it.

His story reminds us that every patch on a uniform seals a life interrupted. That valor demands bearing scars, not just earned medals.

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” —Luke 9:23

DeGlopper bore his cross under fire. His sacrifice is a ledger inked in blood but balanced by redemption.

Charles N. DeGlopper’s voice echoes still—a call to the living. When the bullets rain, when the dark closes in, stand firm. Protect your brothers. Lay down your life if need be. That is legacy. That is honor. That is the courage etched into the soil of Normandy—and the hearts of every soldier who knows the weight of sacrifice.