Henry Johnson's WWI heroism and Medal of Honor legacy

Jan 26 , 2026

Henry Johnson's WWI heroism and Medal of Honor legacy

Sgt. Henry Johnson stood alone in the cold, dark woods outside the front lines. Bullets tore through the night, snapping branches and shredding flesh. Despite being wounded, he fought like a man possessed—each step soaked with blood, each breath a battle against death. His rifle cracked repeatedly, cutting down wave after wave of German attackers. He was the last line between his unit and annihilation. No backup. No mercy. Just raw, relentless courage.

The Roots of a Warrior

Born in Winston-Salem, North Carolina, in 1892, Henry Johnson was a man shaped by hard soil and tighter fists. A Black American at a time when Jim Crow laws bled his people dry, Johnson learned early that survival meant standing tall in a world built to knock you down. Before the war, he worked as a railroad porter—long hours, little pay, but a steady pride in honest labor.

Faith was the iron that held him steady. Raised in a devout Christian household, Johnson carried scripture in his heart like armor. “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)

This wasn't empty comfort. It was steel—fortifying a man stepping into the maelstrom of mechanized slaughter.

The Battle That Defined Him

France, May 15-16, 1918. Amid the Verdun sector, the 369th Infantry Regiment—known as the Harlem Hellfighters—was holding a trench line when a German raiding party crept in under the veil of darkness. Sgt. Johnson, on sentry duty with Pvt. Needham Roberts, faced overwhelming odds.

The Germans launched a brutal attack, grenade clusters exploding, blinding and deafening. Roberts was badly wounded, but Johnson fought on—his body riddled by shrapnel and bullet wounds. Bare-handed fights in the mud. Savage throws of grenades back against the enemy. He engaged in close-quarters combat so fierce that his rifle eventually shattered.

Whatever pain tore through him, he swallowed it. His voice was raw, his hands shaking, but his resolve was unbreakable. He reportedly bayoneted multiple attackers, cleared the trench, and shielded Roberts from the German onslaught. The official Medal of Honor citation credits him with killing at least four enemy soldiers and wounding many more, forcing the rest to retreat.

His wounds were severe enough to nearly claim his life, but Sgt. Henry Johnson survived—and in doing so, saved his unit from a massacre[1].

Recognition Amid Shadows

Johnson returned to the U.S. broken, physically and emotionally. Jim Crow-era racism delayed the full honors he deserved. The nation he fought for was reluctant to acknowledge a Black soldier's valor. Yet in 1918, the French government awarded him the Croix de Guerre with palm—the first African American so decorated—and praised him as a model of battlefield heroism.

It took decades for America to catch up.

In 2015, nearly a century after that fateful night, President Barack Obama awarded Henry Johnson the Medal of Honor—the nation’s highest military honor. His daughter accepted on his behalf, closing a long chapter of injustice.

Army Secretary John McHugh summed it up:

“Sgt. Henry Johnson represents the very best of America.”

Legacy Etched in Blood and Faith

Johnson’s story is not just about one man’s heroism. It represents every soldier who fights in the shadows—who bears the scars the world tries to erase.

His courage whispered a brutal truth: valor isn’t about skin color. It is the grit to face your death and keep fighting for the brother beside you.

To the combat veteran, this echoes deeply. The wounds we carry are more than flesh—they are the cost of service, sometimes unseen, often unrecognized.

But redemption lies in that legacy. Johnson’s faith, his sacrifice, and his tenacity remind us of Romans 5:3-4:

“Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.”

Henry Johnson’s life was a battlefield testimony—a raw, unvarnished testament to courage against impossible odds. His scars tell a story worth remembering. His fight cries out through history, demanding we honor the forgotten and embrace the fallen.

He did not fight for glory. He fought so others might live.

The battlefield may be silent but for the echoes of his footsteps. We carry the weight of his sacrifice, and in doing so, find a call to courage that never dies.

Sources

[1] United States Army Center of Military History - Medal of Honor Citation: Sgt. Henry Johnson, 369th Infantry Regiment [2] National Archives and Records Administration - WWI Military Service Records [3] Charles E. Francis, The Tuskegee Airmen: The Men Who Changed a Nation [4] Department of Defense News Release, 2015 - Medal of Honor Presentation to Sgt. Henry Johnson