James E. Robinson Jr., a Cleveland Hero Awarded the Medal of Honor

Dec 31 , 2025

James E. Robinson Jr., a Cleveland Hero Awarded the Medal of Honor

Bullets ripped through the fog. Men dropped like wheat before the scythe. Somewhere in that chaos, one man moved faster than death itself—and dragged his brothers along.

The Boy From Cleveland

James E. Robinson Jr. wasn’t born into a line of heroes. Cleveland, Ohio, 1918. The son of modest means, raised with grit and a sharp sense of right and wrong. A quiet faith anchored the boy. His mother, a devout woman, folded prayers into every meal, every night.

Robinson carried that steadiness like armor. Not flashy. Not seeking glory. Just driven by a hard code: protect your own, do the job, don’t ask why.

He enlisted in the Army, assigned to the 3rd Infantry Division. The kind of unit that learned war the hard way—in blood, fire, and clawed ground.

The Battle That Defined a Man

June 17, 1944, near Montélimar, France. The streets were a maze of rubble and death. The Germans held firm, the Americans pushing hard to break the line.

Robinson’s platoon was pinned down by heavy machine-gun fire. Men hesitated, trapped in the crosshairs of cold steel. The enemy was killing too many, too fast.

Without orders, Robinson stepped forward. Alone.

He charged through the hailstorm of bullets. Grenades at his belt, adrenaline in his veins—the man became a force of nature. Blasting enemies with his rifle, tossing grenades into nests of resistance.

“He was like a lion among sheep.” One surviving comrade recalled, breathless from the memory[1].

Robinson didn’t stop until the machine guns fell silent, the enemy lines broke, and his platoon could advance.

It cost him wounds. Deep ones. But he refused evacuation. He kept fighting. Leading assaults throughout that brutal day, dragging wounded men to safety, rallying the shattered unit back to life.

The Medal of Honor

For his conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity, President Harry S. Truman awarded Robinson the Medal of Honor on March 12, 1945[2]. The citation spelled it out with unvarnished truth:

“Second Lieutenant Robinson voluntarily left the cover of his platoon and carried the fight to the enemy, neutralizing hostile machine guns and riflemen despite being under intense fire. His courage and leadership saved his unit from annihilation.”

Unit commanders called him a “force multiplier,” a man whose presence turned the tide. His fellow soldiers remembered a leader who never asked another to do what he wouldn’t do first.

Chaplain Edward E. Kretch said at the medal presentation, “Through the trial of fire, your faith and valor shine as beacons of hope.”

Blood and Redemption

James Robinson’s story isn’t about medals or fame. It’s about what war does to the soul—and what faith can reclaim.

He came home bearing scars no camera could capture. But he spoke often of Romans 8:37—“in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us.” That wasn’t just scripture to him, but a lifeline.

Robinson dedicated the rest of his life to helping wounded veterans wrestle back their dignity. To remind those broken by war that courage is as much about healing as fighting.

“Courage is not the absence of fear, but the choice to move forward despite it.”

In a world too quick to forget the cost of freedom, James E. Robinson Jr.’s legacy demands we remember. Who pays with blood for the rest of us to live—who face death so others may find life.

His story is carved in the mud of France, in the hearts of men who stood beside him, and in the quiet prayers whispered far from the battlefield.

War leaves no clean hands, but grace can leave a clean heart.

Sources

[1] U.S. Army Center of Military History, “Medal of Honor Recipients: World War II” [2] Truman Library, Medal of Honor Citation for James E. Robinson Jr.