James E. Robinson Jr., WWII Medal of Honor hero at Kerling

Nov 11 , 2025

James E. Robinson Jr., WWII Medal of Honor hero at Kerling

James E. Robinson Jr. stood knee-deep in mud, under a sky torn by shellfire. The chaos swirled around him—men screaming, rifles cracking, blood soaking the earth where his brothers fell. Yet he didn’t flinch. Not once.

He wasn’t just fighting for survival. He fought to pull his men from the jaws of death.

The Steel in His Spine

Born in Indiana in 1918, Robinson came up rough and rooted in faith. A farmer’s son with hands callused harder than most, he knew early that life demanded grit and honor. His mother drilled Psalms into him—“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified…” (Deuteronomy 31:6). That scripture wasn’t just words; it was a battlefield creed.

In civilian life, Robinson worked the land. But the war called him, and he answered with an unshakable sense of duty. Private turned sergeant, then platoon leader—all earned in the crucible of real combat. He led men like they were the air he breathed—essential, precious, worth every drop of his own blood.

The Battle That Defined Him: November 28, 1944

On that black November day near Kerling, France, Robinson’s company charged into a death trap. German forces held fortified ground with machine guns, mortars, and relentless resolve. His unit was pinned, fractured, grasping for footholds in a deluge of fire.

Robinson moved forward alone at first—no orders, no hesitation. He slogged through mud and wire, dodged bullets, closing distance toward a German machine gun nest.

His assault was brutal. With a burst of grenades and rifle fire, he silenced one nest. Then another. Then he grabbed a wounded comrade and dragged him to safety.

Despite twice being wounded, he led a counterattack that forced the enemy to retreat.

His fearless recklessness was not blind fury but calculated salvation. His men survived because he refused to die that day.

Medal of Honor: Valor in Flesh and Bone

Robinson received the Medal of Honor on August 23, 1945, for conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity. The citation reads:

“Despite enemy fire, Sergeant Robinson moved through intense hostility, leading assaults on fortified positions and evacuating wounded soldiers under direct threat.”

Generals called him the epitome of frontline courage. Fellow soldiers described him as a man who “walked into hell to save us all.”

His actions weren’t about medals or glory. They were about brothers in arms—and the sacred duty of leadership amidst carnage.

The Legacy of a Warrior’s Heart

James E. Robinson Jr.’s story is more than a chapter in World War II annals. It’s a brutal hymn of sacrifice and redemption.

He reminds us courage isn’t absence of fear but mastery over it. That leadership means being the first to step into fire for others.

Robinson’s scars are etched in history and flesh—the legacy of a warrior who bled for his men and his country.

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

This is the price of honor. The story of a man who carried the weight of war and the hope of peace in the same worn boots.

If you stand where he stood, know this: bravery roots itself in the soil of sacrifice. And though war shreds the body, it can burn into the soul a lasting truth—courage saves lives. Redemption waits beyond the battlefield, but only for those who dare walk through the fire first.