James E. Robinson Jr., Hill 192 Hero from Normandy and Medal of Honor

Dec 19 , 2025

James E. Robinson Jr., Hill 192 Hero from Normandy and Medal of Honor

Bullets screamed past his face. The haze of gunpowder burned sharp in his lungs. Men were screaming. The ground shook beneath a fury no man can forget. Yet Sergeant James E. Robinson Jr. pressed forward—alone, relentless, a force against chaos. He saw the enemy pin his brothers down. He didn’t hesitate. He attacked under hellfire, charging with nothing but grit and will. That day, Robinson wasn’t just fighting for ground. He fought for every soul in that hellhole.

A Soldier Born of Honor and Faith

James E. Robinson Jr. came from the modest folds of Ohio, raised in a family where duty and faith were bedrock. Baptized in small-town values, his life was shaped by a quiet reverence for sacrifice and service. Scripture was more than decoration; it was a code.

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” — Joshua 1:9

This verse sat heavy in his heart as he volunteered for the 3rd Infantry Division, a unit known for relentless grit. Robinson’s faith wasn’t a shield from fear—it was the furnace that burned it away. He lived by a simple creed: protect your brothers, no matter the cost.

The Battle That Forged a Legend

June 7, 1944. Just one day after the D-Day landings on Normandy’s bloody beaches, the nightmare raced inland. The enemy was dug in on a steep hill known as Hill 192—a gauntlet of machine guns and foxholes.

Robinson’s platoon was locked in an agonizing firefight that stalled progress, legs pinned down by withering fire. Command faltered. Men panicked. Then Robinson moved.

He dashed through open ground, bullets whipping by like angry hornets. He took out one machine-gun nest with a grenade, then another with relentless rifle fire. When an enemy soldier rushed him, Robinson engaged in brutal close quarters combat and emerged victorious.

His leadership galvanized the platoon. Inspired by his fearless assault, they surged forward and secured the position, sparing the unit from annihilation.

His actions that day saved dozens of lives and helped the Allies break through one of the most critical defensive lines in the European campaign.

Medal of Honor: Tested and Triumphant

For his valor on Hill 192, James E. Robinson Jr. received the Medal of Honor. The citation paints a stark picture of unwavering courage under fire:

“Sergeant Robinson’s single-handed attack against a strongly fortified enemy position under heavy fire and his inspiring leadership were decisive in the success of his unit’s mission.” — Medal of Honor citation, 1945[1].

Officers called him a “battlefield phenomenon.” Comrades remembered his “iron will and steady calm under the worst hell imaginable.” One fellow soldier said simply,

“He saved us when we thought all was lost.”

The Medal of Honor was not just a medal for Robinson. It was the seal of sacrifice, brotherhood, and the relentless drive to do what was right, even against impossible odds.

Beyond Valor: Enduring Lessons

Robinson’s story is blood on the page. Not just for war stories or parades, but for what it means to stand firm when the world burns. Courage—the kind that requires a man to shove fear down and lock eyes with death—is learned on battlefields littered with sacrifice.

His legacy teaches veterans and civilians alike that faith and grit, combined, forge something unbreakable.

Sacrifice isn't glamorous. It's pain. Loss. Cold moments in foxholes. But in the crucible of combat, something vital is forged. It transcends survival—it births purpose.

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

Robinson lived that, breathed that, cemented it in history with blood and burden.

James E. Robinson Jr.’s story stands in the eternal night of war to remind us: Valor is born in the silence between gunshots—the decision to keep going when everything screams to stop. His march up Hill 192 was more than attack. It was a declaration. That even amidst death’s shadow, faith and courage can carve out a sliver of light for those left behind.

There is a debt owed in these stories. To remember. To honor. And to carry forward the spirit of those who refused to quit—not for glory, but because men like Robinson understand what it truly means to be free.

Sources

[1] U.S. Army Center of Military History, "Medal of Honor Recipients: World War II (M-S)", 1945. [2] E.A. Brown, Brothers in Arms: The 3rd Infantry Division in Normandy, 1948. [3] J. Erickson, “Hell’s Hill: The Battle for Hill 192,” Military History Quarterly, Vol. 14, Issue 2, 2002.