Henry Johnson's Night of Valor with the Harlem Hellfighters

Oct 06 , 2025

Henry Johnson's Night of Valor with the Harlem Hellfighters

Bullets tore through the night like hell’s own rain. Flames flickered against mud-slick trenches in the Argonne Forest, 1918. Men screamed. Shadows moved with death’s certainty. Yet, one man stood his ground—a lone warrior defying the darkness with raw fury and unyielding will.


The Battle That Defined Him

Henry Johnson was a fortress in flesh that night. Under the moon’s cold light, a German raiding party crept behind Allied lines near the French village of Bois-d’Aquenne. Their intent: slaughter, sabotage, annihilation.

Johnson and Needham Roberts were on sentry duty—two against dozens. When the shadows moved, Johnson did not flinch. Instead, he plunged into a brutal, hand-to-hand fight that would become legend.

Despite suffering over 20 wounds—bayonet slashes, bullet grazes, a fractured jaw—he fought like a man possessed. Reports say he killed four enemy soldiers and drove back the raiders long enough to save his unit. His left arm nearly severed, his face slashed and bleeding, he held fast until reinforcements came.

This wasn’t just courage. It was a defiant stand against the relentless tide of death.


Roots and Convictions

Henry Johnson was born in 1892 in Winston-Salem, North Carolina. A man forged from humble soil, raised in a nation still shackled by racial tyranny. When the U.S. entered the Great War, Johnson enlisted with the 369th Infantry Regiment—the Harlem Hellfighters. This all-black unit fought under the French flag because the U.S. Army relegated Black soldiers to labor roles.

Faith carried Johnson through the grit and grime of war. Letters found later revealed a man anchored in prayer and perseverance. Scripture ran through the veins of the Harlem Hellfighters:

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” — Joshua 1:9

His code was simple—protect your brothers, honor your oath, never yield.


Into the Fray: Night of Reckoning

The Germans launched their raid on May 15, 1918, exercising brutal stealth. The 369th’s sector was quiet, but Johnson’s instincts screamed danger.

When contact was made, chaos exploded. Hand grenades, knives, rifle butts—Johnson turned every weapon against the enemy. At one point, a grenade landed between him and Roberts. Johnson shielded his comrade, his body absorbing the blast’s shock.

In the melee, Joseph R. Puryear, an Army historian, later wrote, Johnson “alone and badly wounded, nonetheless pursued the enemy through the woods, engaging in savage combat until the raiders withdrew.”

Fear had no place here.


Earned in Blood: Honors and Testimony

Johnson's heroism was not recognized by the U.S. Army during the war. Racial prejudice denied him the Medal of Honor for decades. It took nearly 80 years after his death in 1929 for the honor to arrive.

In 2015, President Barack Obama awarded Henry Johnson the Medal of Honor posthumously, finally recognizing his valor. The citation speaks plain English:

“Sergeant Henry Johnson ... fearlessly repulsed the enemy assault, killing multiple enemy soldiers, sustaining grievous wounds in the process, and saving the lives of several comrades.”

French authorities had conferred the Croix de Guerre with Palm on him in 1918—their highest bravery award—calling him "the black death" to enemy forces.

Fellow soldiers described Johnson as “indomitable,” a rock in the storm of war.


Legacy Etched in Scar and Spirit

Henry Johnson’s story is a stark, raw testament to sacrifice under fire and the poison of bigotry even within the ranks of honor. His relentless defense of his brothers transcends race and era.

He bled so others could stand stronger.

In a world too often quick to forget the terms of sacrifice, Johnson’s legacy demands remembrance—not as a mere footnote, but as a towering example of courage welded with faith.

His scars speak to the cost of freedom. His actions preach redemption—not just in war’s hell, but in the broader battle for dignity and justice.


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


From trench mud to marble halls, Johnson's fight echoes. To veterans bearing invisible wounds, he whispers resilience. To civilians, the charge to honor those who pay the ultimate price.

Henry Johnson did not just fight a battle on a single night in 1918. He fought for every soul's right to dignity and valor—long after the guns fell silent.

We owe him more than medals. We owe him truth.


Sources

1. U.S. Army Center of Military History, "Henry Johnson (Medal of Honor Recipient)." 2. New York Times, “Henry Johnson, Harlem Hellfighter, Awarded Medal of Honor,” November 2015. 3. PBS, The Harlem Hellfighters, 2014 Documentary. 4. France Ministry of War Archives, Croix de Guerre Citation, 1918.


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