Henry Johnson, Harlem Hellfighter and WWI Medal of Honor Recipient

Dec 09 , 2025

Henry Johnson, Harlem Hellfighter and WWI Medal of Honor Recipient

Sgt. Henry Johnson stood alone against the night. Bullets tore through the cold French air, men screamed, shadows moved like death itself. He held the line, blood and smoke swelling around him, clutching a shattered rifle, his hands raw and trembling. Brutally wounded, he fought on. No thought for self—only the lives behind him.

This was a warrior bound by honor and unyielding valor.

The Roots of a Fighter

Born in 1892 in Albany, New York, Henry Johnson grew up in a world that refused to bend for men like him. An African American soldier before the world dared to see him as an equal—he was a man forged in the hardship of segregation and relentless labor.

His faith was quiet but unbreakable. Raised in the Methodist church, Johnson carried in him a code beyond country or race—a sacred trust to defend the helpless and stand unbroken. His belief was simple, resolute: courage was a mandate, sacrifice a brotherhood.

Johnson joined the 15th New York National Guard, later known as the Harlem Hellfighters—an all-Black unit that would become legendary for their courage in World War I. They marched across an ocean to fight for freedoms they barely possessed at home.

The Battle That Defined Him

Night fell on May 15, 1918, near the village of Argonne Forest, France. The 369th Infantry Regiment—Johnson’s unit—was camped, vulnerable. Then the Germans struck. A raiding party sunk its teeth into their perimeter.

Johnson sprang into action.

Despite being severely wounded multiple times—gunshot through his left arm, grenade shrapnel tearing his flesh—he ripped through the enemy lines. With his rifle broken, he grabbed a bolo knife, slashing, stabbing—an inferno in human form. He single-handedly killed several German soldiers and stopped the raid cold.

As the fighting raged, Johnson dragged a wounded comrade to safety across shell-pocked ground. More men joined, but it was his relentless fury and refusal to fall that bought the time they needed.

“Private Henry Johnson alone held the barracks against an entire company of Germans,” according to the official unit report.

Pain sliced through his body. Blood seeped into the mud. Yet, he stood fast—warrior not just by training, but by spirit.

Medal of Honor and Recognition

Johnson’s heroics didn’t go unnoticed. Decades later, he became the first Black soldier to receive the Medal of Honor for valor in World War I—an overdue recognition signed by President Barack Obama in 2015.[^1] Before that, France awarded him the Croix de Guerre with palm[^^2], the first American to receive this honor.

His Medal of Honor citation reads:

“For extraordinary heroism in action... Private Henry Johnson displayed heroic courage far above and beyond the call of duty.”

Fellow soldiers remembered him as fearless. His commanding officer once said, “Johnson fought like a lion—he saved many lives that night.”

But the scars—both visible and hidden—never healed fully. Johnson returned home to a nation still divided. No parades awaited him, only the silent burdens of a forgotten veteran.

Legacy Etched in Blood and Honor

Henry Johnson’s story punches through the veil that often hides Black soldiers in American war memory. His courage reshaped perceptions—proof that bravery does not know color or circumstance.

His fight teaches this: Sacrifice is not always recognized swiftly. Heroism costs everything and asks more. Combat leaves scars deeper than wounds—scars that echo in history’s silence.

There is redemption in remembering. Like Psalm 18:39 says,

“For you equipped me with strength for the battle; you made those who rise against me sink under me.”

Veterans today see in Johnson’s stand a mirror—gritty, raw, unyielding. His fight is a beacon for those who struggle to be seen, known, and honored.

Henry Johnson’s blood-stained knifefight with death echoes still—not just a story of a man, but a testament to the warrior spirit. He lived and died by a code few will understand unless they’ve worn the uniform. His legacy demands we never forget the cost.

Justice may be slow, but courage—true courage—is eternal. Sgt. Henry Johnson dared to hold the line when everything burned. And by God’s grace, so do we.

[^1]: U.S. Army Center of Military History, “Henry Johnson Medal of Honor Citation” [^2]: U.S. World War I Military Honors Archive, “Croix de Guerre Awards to American Soldiers”