Henry Johnson, Harlem Hellfighter Who Saved Comrades in the Argonne

Dec 13 , 2025

Henry Johnson, Harlem Hellfighter Who Saved Comrades in the Argonne

Sgt. Henry Johnson was the eye of a storm no man should have survived.

Blood and Valor in the Forest of Argonne

October 15, 1918. Blackened woods whispering under artillery fire. Johnson, a Harlem Hellfighter with the 369th Infantry Regiment, stares down a German raiding party in the Argonne Forest. Alone, wounded, outnumbered—he fights with a grit carved from every ounce of pain and loss collected on the frontlines.

Two bullets tore through him. A dozen bayonet wounds and still he stood. His rifle broke in his hands; he seized a rifle butt and then his fists. He fought like a cornered beast to protect his fellow soldiers. Those men would live because Johnson refused to die. “They tried to kill me, but I fought back for my country”, he said^1.

Harlem Roots and a Soldier’s Creed

Born in 1892 in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, Henry Johnson was raised with steel in his bones and faith in his heart. Moving to New York City, he took up work as a janitor but answered the call when America joined the Great War. The 369th Infantry Regiment—the Harlem Hellfighters—would write their names alongside the most fearless units of the war, despite carrying the weight of segregated service.

Faith sustained him. In a country rife with prejudice, Johnson found purpose in sacrifice, believing every wound was part of a greater story. He carried Psalm 91 with him:

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.”

Fighting Back Against the Night

The night of October 15 shattered many lives. German soldiers launched a surprise raid deep behind American lines. Johnson and Pvt. Needham Roberts were on sentry duty along a road near the village of Bois d’Argonne. When the raid struck, Roberts was quickly overwhelmed and nearly killed.

Johnson fought with ferocity born of desperation and duty. Armed with a rifle, then a bolo knife, he repelled wave after wave of attackers. The scars he earned are chilling to read—sliced, stabbed, shot—but he kept moving.

He reportedly killed four enemy soldiers and wounded several others during what would become a legendary stand. His actions stopped the raid from breaking the line and saved Roberts and possibly dozens more from death or capture^2.

Medals and Recognition Denied, Then Reclaimed

Despite his heroism, Johnson’s gallantry went largely unrecognized by the U.S. military for decades. The racial barriers of the time shadowed his deeds. The French awarded him the Croix de Guerre with a star, honoring his “extraordinary courage under fire”^3.

It was not until seventy-seven years later, in 2015, that the United States posthumously awarded Henry Johnson the Medal of Honor—our nation’s highest military decoration. President Barack Obama presented the medal to Johnson’s surviving relatives, finally marking the fightworthiness of a Black soldier who had fought and bled as hard as any^4.

State Senator Bill Perkins spoke for many:

“Henry Johnson’s story isn’t just about valor. It’s about challenging the narratives that excluded Black soldiers from honor and history.”

An Enduring Testament to Courage and Redemption

Johnson’s story is carved not just into the annals of war but deep into the soul of what it means to be a warrior—brutal, imperfect, unyielding. He forged courage in the blood of battle and the shadow of racism.

We learn this from him: true valor is not recognized by medals alone. It is born in the grit to stand when everything screams to fall. Sacrifice does not allow for prejudice; it demands brotherhood. Johnson showed that courage recognizes no skin color.

“Let us run with endurance the race set before us, looking to Jesus.” — Hebrews 12:1

Sgt. Henry Johnson teaches us that legacy is not the medals pinned on a chest but the lives saved, the injustice shattered, and the truth told. His scars cry out that no man fights alone. In his fight, we find a spark of redemption—a call to honor every warrior’s struggle, no matter how long the shadows hide them.

Sources

1. The New York Times, “He Fought Alone, Then Was Forgotten” 2. U.S. Army Center of Military History, 369th Infantry Regiment War Records 3. French Ministry of Defense, Croix de Guerre Award Citation 4. The White House Archives, Medal of Honor Presentation Ceremony, 2015