D-Day
Léo Major was born on January 23, 1921, in New Bedford, Massachusetts, to a French-Canadian family. He grew up in Quebec, was raised in difficult circumstances, and enlisted in the Royal Canadian Regiment in 1940 at age 19. He was unremarkable on paper: five-foot-eight, strong, French-speaking. Nothing in his record predicted what was about to happen.
On June 6, 1944, Major landed on Juno Beach with the 1st Canadian Parachute Battalion during the D-Day invasion of Normandy. In the chaos of the landing, he was hit by white phosphorus from a grenade. The burning phosphorus destroyed his left eye.
The medical officer told him he was going home. Major refused. His reasoning was straightforward to the point of absurdity: “I can still shoot. I have one good eye. Send me back.”
He went back. With one eye, he continued fighting through France and into Belgium. At the Battle of the Scheldt in October-November 1944 — the vicious campaign to clear the approaches to Antwerp — he did something that should be impossible.

Juno Beach, June 6, 1944. White phosphorus took his left eye. The medic said he was done. Major said no. “I can still shoot.” He went back into the fight with one eye and stayed in it for a year.
93 Germans, One Man
During the Battle of the Scheldt, Major was on a reconnaissance patrol alone when he encountered a German SS unit in a farmhouse. What happened next is part of Canadian military legend.
Moving alone through the darkness, Major managed to capture two SS officers and used them as leverage against the rest of their unit. Through a combination of aggressive maneuvering, psychological pressure, and the terrifying speed of his movements in the dark, he captured group after group — driving them ahead of him, never letting them organize, never letting them figure out how many men were attacking them.
He brought in 93 German prisoners. By himself. In one night.
His commanding officers recommended him for the Distinguished Conduct Medal — one of the highest awards in the British military hierarchy, second only to the Victoria Cross. He was awarded it. He dismissed it as “not worth the paper.” He was referring to his commanding general, whom he considered incompetent and didn’t want the award from.
He formally refused the DCM from Montgomery’s hand at the presentation ceremony. This is not a thing that is supposed to happen. Léo Major did not care what was supposed to happen.

Battle of the Scheldt, 1944. One man, one rifle, one eye. He moved through the darkness so fast and so aggressively that 93 German soldiers never understood they were being captured by a single Canadian. He brought them all in.
Zwolle — One Night, One Man, 50,000 People
On the night of April 13–14, 1945, the 1st Canadian Scottish Regiment was ordered to liberate the Dutch city of Zwolle. The city had a population of 50,000 people. Intelligence suggested it was defended by a substantial German garrison. The plan called for a full military assault the following morning.
Major and his friend Willi Arseneault volunteered to reconnoiter the city first — to go in that night, assess the German defenses, and contact the Dutch resistance before the attack.
They entered the city together. Arseneault was killed by German fire almost immediately. Major carried his friend’s body to safety, then turned around and went back into the city alone.
What followed is one of the most extraordinary single-night actions in WWII. Major moved through Zwolle in the darkness for hours. He encountered German soldiers and killed some. He captured others and sent them running through the city with messages that a large Canadian force was about to annihilate the garrison. He set the Gestapo headquarters on fire. He made so much noise, killed so many men, and generated so much chaos that the German garrison commander became convinced he was facing a full assault.
The garrison withdrew from Zwolle before dawn.
By morning, the city of 50,000 was free. No Canadian assault was needed. No Allied forces had entered. Léo Major, alone, in one night, had liberated an entire city through force of will, aggression, and an absolute refusal to stop moving.

Zwolle, April 13–14, 1945. His friend Willi was dead. Major went back in alone. He moved through the city for hours, creating so much chaos that the entire German garrison withdrew. 50,000 people woke up free.
Korea — Second Act
Most men would have come home from WWII and considered their obligation paid in full. Léo Major re-enlisted for the Korean War in 1950. He was now nearly 30 years old, missing one eye, and a veteran of some of the worst fighting in Northwest Europe. He went to Korea anyway.
On February 14, 1951, at the Battle of Kowang-san (Hill 355 area), the Chinese People’s Volunteer Army launched a massive assault to retake a key ridge position. The Chinese forces numbered in the thousands — estimates of 14,000 in the broader sector, with thousands committed to the specific ridge. The defending Canadian force was approximately 18 men.
Major led those 18 men in a counter-attack that held the position against odds that defy military logic. He moved his small force constantly, attacking from multiple directions, creating the impression of a much larger defending force. The Chinese, unable to determine the actual strength of the opposition, fell back.
For his leadership at Kowang-san, Léo Major was awarded a second Distinguished Conduct Medal — making him the only Canadian soldier in the twentieth century to win two DCMs in two different wars.
This time, he accepted the award.

Korea, February 1951. 18 men vs thousands of Chinese. Major led a counter-attack that held the position through constant movement and aggression. Second DCM. Two wars. Two medals. One eye the whole time.
The Man Who Never Stopped
Léo Major came home from Korea and largely disappeared from public view. He was not the kind of man who sought recognition — as evidenced by his refusal of his first DCM at the presentation ceremony. He settled in Quebec, raised a family, and lived quietly.
Zwolle did not forget him. Every year on April 14 — Liberation Day — the city of Zwolle holds ceremonies honoring the Canadian soldiers who freed them. For years, Major was invited but didn’t attend. Finally, in 1995, fifty years after the liberation, he went back.
The people of Zwolle greeted him as a hero. He was given honorary citizenship. Streets are named for him. Every year, the city remembers the night a one-eyed Canadian soldier came into their streets alone, raised enough hell to drive out a German garrison, and walked out in the morning having liberated 50,000 people.
Léo Major died on October 12, 2008, at the age of 87. He is buried in Quebec. His two DCMs — the only ones ever won by a Canadian soldier in two separate wars — are in a museum.
When people ask what made Léo Major exceptional, the answer is always the same: he simply refused to stop. Refused to go home after losing his eye. Refused the first award because it came from a general he didn’t respect. Refused to let Zwolle require a full assault when one man could do the job. Refused to sit out Korea.
In a life defined by refusals, Léo Major refused to be anything less than the most dangerous man in any room he walked into.

Zwolle, 1995. Fifty years later. Major returned to the city he’d liberated alone. The Dutch greeted him as a hero. Streets carry his name. Every April 14, they remember the night one Canadian set them free.
Why He Matters
Léo Major is not well known outside Canada and the Netherlands. He was not American. He did not fight at the most famous battles. He did not write a memoir. He gave few interviews. He declined the first medal.
But consider what he actually did: He lost an eye in combat and refused medical evacuation. He captured 93 prisoners single-handedly. He liberated an entire city — population 50,000 — in one night alone. He won two Distinguished Conduct Medals in two different wars, at an interval of seven years. He held a hill in Korea with 18 men against thousands.
Any one of these would make a remarkable career. All of them together, in one man, with one eye, across two wars and two decades — that is something beyond remarkable. That is what human beings are capable of at their absolute limit.
The people of Zwolle understood it. They woke up on April 14, 1945, and the Germans were gone and they didn’t know why. When they found out — one man, in the dark, refusing to stop — they named a street after him and never forgot.

Léo Major, 1921–2008. One eye. Two DCMs. Two wars. 93 prisoners. One city liberated alone. The only Canadian soldier in history to win two DCMs in two different wars. He didn’t think it was remarkable. He was wrong.



