James E. Robinson Jr.'s Medal of Honor at Hill 609

Dec 05 , 2025

James E. Robinson Jr.'s Medal of Honor at Hill 609

James E. Robinson Jr. stood in the choking smog of war, bullets humming past his ears like angry hornets. His men faltered beneath withering enemy fire, pinned down in a hellish maze of hedgerows in France. But Robinson would not let his unit die that day—not while there was breath in his body.

He charged forward, alone at first, under the full fury of German guns. Each step hammered out a declaration: We will advance. We will survive. His rifle cracked in sharp bursts. Grenades tore through the air. He seized leadership not by rank, but by raw, iron-willed resolve to save his brothers-in-arms.

From Humble Roots, War’s Forge

James E. Robinson Jr. was born in Martinsville, Virginia, in 1918—a place where hard work was gospel and faith ran as deep as old rivers. Raised in a modest family that nurtured strong Christian values, Robinson’s sense of duty was seeded early. The Bible and a quiet courage carved out his moral compass.

“Let us not grow weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” — Galatians 6:9

It was faith more than bravado that tempered him. The idea of sacrifice was not abstract. It was personal. It was sacred.

Drafted into the Army in 1941, Robinson graduated from Infantry School and was assigned to the 2nd Infantry Division. This unit—a band of brothers hardened through grueling training—would become his battlefield family.

The Fury of Hill 609

Late July 1944, near Brest, France, the 2nd Infantry Division approached Hill 609. This ridge was vital—key to tearing open German defenses and breaking their grasp on Brittany’s coastline.

Robinson’s company moved in under relentless artillery and machine-gun fire. Men fell silently, blood soaking into the earth beneath desperate screams.

When the attack stalled, Robinson knew what the moment demanded.

He leapt from his foxhole. Alone. Weapon blazing.

Five enemy machine guns were hurling death at his unit. One by one, Robinson silenced them with incredible ferocity and precision, crawling, diving, exposing himself to annihilation.

He didn’t stop.

When his third grenade exploded near a bunker, wounding him severely, the pain was swallowed by his resolve. He rallied his men, reorganized their assault, then led the charge uphill. His grit broke that German line.

“Though wounded, he refused evacuation,” the official Medal of Honor citation records, “continuing to lead his squad until the objective was secured.”[1]

Medal of Honor: A Testament Written in Blood

President Harry S. Truman bestowed Robinson with the Medal of Honor on January 23, 1945.

“Private First Class Robinson’s valor and leadership went beyond the call of duty, embodying the highest traditions of the military service.”[2]

His citation told a story few could live long to tell. His company survived that day, owed their lives to his selfless courage. Fellow soldiers dubbed him a living legend.

In memoirs and histories of the 2nd Infantry Division, high commanders praised his example.

One officer said, “Robinson was the heartbeat that kept us moving when fear froze every other vein.” Another trooper wrote, “You don’t find saints like him on every battlefield.”

The Unending Fight: Courage and Redemption

War scars every man in its wake. Robinson carried more than wounds from Hill 609—haunted nights, the weight of comrades lost. Yet he never waivered from the principles that defined him.

His story is far more than combat maneuvers and awards. It is an enduring testament that courage born of conviction can reshape destiny. Where death beckoned, Robinson answered with life, hope, and faith.

After the war, he spoke little of glory. For him, survival was a gift, not a right.

“He fought so others might live—and in that sacrifice, we find grace.”

James E. Robinson Jr. stands as a stark reminder that valor is never comfortable. It’s raw. Brute. Beautiful in its refusal to yield.

To honor warriors like Robinson is to remember that the battlefield’s true legacy is not just history’s footnotes—but the unbroken thread of sacrifice that binds us to our shared humanity.

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

Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, Medal of Honor citation for James E. Robinson Jr. 2. Truman Library, Presidential Medal of Honor Awards, January 1945 ceremony records. 3. Into the Breach: The Story of the Second Infantry Division in World War II, by Lt. Col. Robert W. Harper 4. Veterans History Project Archive, Library of Congress, Interview with fellow 2nd Infantry Division veteran, 1998