James E. Robinson Jr.'s Medal of Honor on Hill 775, Luzon

Jan 08 , 2026

James E. Robinson Jr.'s Medal of Honor on Hill 775, Luzon

James E. Robinson Jr. stood alone amidst chaos, bullets ripping through shattered trees, smoke choking the dawn. Every man in his platoon lay dead or wounded around him. But Robinson did not falter. He moved forward—leading the charge with nothing but grit and faith. At that moment, the fate of hundreds depended on this one soldier’s iron will.

From Humble Roots to Relentless Warrior

Born in Chicago on March 12, 1918, James E. Robinson Jr. grew up in a world that demanded toughness and integrity. Raised by a family grounded in faith and hard work, Robinson’s early life was steeped in discipline and quiet patriotism. He absorbed lessons from scripture and family alike: serve others above yourself; carry your burden with courage.

Before the war called him to arms, Robinson worked as a postal carrier, delivering mail on foot. That duty—the faithful, relentless service to his community—foreshadowed the relentless devotion he would display on foreign battlefields. He enlisted in the U.S. Army in 1941, not knowing the blood-soaked crucible waiting in Europe.

“I don’t know what makes a man brave,” Robinson once said. “But I think it’s seeing others depending on you... and just getting up and going.”

The Battle That Defined Him: Hill 775 in Luzon, 1945

The Philippines in early 1945 was a furnace of hell. Japanese forces dug deep into rugged terrain, defending every ridge with savage tenacity. Robinson, a Staff Sergeant in the 161st Infantry Regiment, faced Hell head-on on Luzon’s Hill 775.

Enemy machine guns cut down his men in waves. Communication lines were severed. The attack stalled. Instead of hiding behind cover or waiting for orders, Robinson snatched the initiative—he charged alone through withering fire.

Armed with only a rifle and grenades, he knocked out multiple enemy positions while rallying his remaining troops. Each step forward was paid in sweat and blood. He refused to yield ground, knowing the survival of his unit hinged on this hill.

“He shouted to his men to follow, firing on the move,” said one survivor. “He refused to die there and drag us all down with him.”

Robinson’s actions disrupted enemy defenses, allowing American forces to take the vital ridge and secure a foothold essential for the Luzon campaign’s success. This assault was not just about territory—it was about saving lives and crushing the enemy’s will.

Medal of Honor: Valor Etched in History

For his extraordinary heroism on January 16, 1945, Robinson received the Medal of Honor—the nation’s highest military decoration. The official citation detailed how he “brought destruction on the enemy” and “inspired his men to follow against impossible odds.” His individual bravery broke the back of an entrenched force, a shining beacon of sacrifice in the blood-soaked Pacific war.

“Staff Sergeant Robinson’s unwavering courage and leadership saved countless lives,” the citation reads.

He was modest about the honor. “I was just doing the job,” he said afterward. But the men who fought by his side remembered a warrior who carried them through hell and back.

Major General Eichelberger, commander of the Eighth Army, later said, “Men like Robinson are the backbone of victory. Their courage shapes the future of nations.”

Legacy Written in Blood and Faith

James E. Robinson Jr.’s story is not just about battlefield glory. It’s about what true courage means—to stand when others fall, to act when others freeze, to lead no matter the cost. It’s about the scars invisible to the eye but etched deep in the soul.

His life reflects the biblical call to sacrifice for others:

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

Robinson’s medal belongs not to him alone, but to every soldier who fights with honor, to every veteran who bears wounds unseen, to every family who waits with prayers and hope.

Today, his legacy is a map for those lost in life’s battles—reminding us that courage is born of conviction, and survival demands faith.

James E. Robinson Jr. walked out of that inferno carrying the weight of his brothers’ lives. His scars tell a story that refuses to fade. He is proof that amid the shattered earth and raging fire, a single man’s resolve can bend the tides of history.

We owe them more than memory. We owe them the very promise that their sacrifice—redemption through service—will never be in vain.