Sgt Henry Johnson, Harlem Hellfighter and Medal of Honor Recipient

Dec 05 , 2025

Sgt Henry Johnson, Harlem Hellfighter and Medal of Honor Recipient

Smoke chokes the cold night air. Explosions rip through the silence. Beneath a shattered moon, one man stands alone—bloodied, wounded, unyielding—fighting off a swarm of German raiders with nothing but courage and grit. Sgt. Henry Johnson was that man. When others broke and ran, he stayed. He held that line.

Born of Harlem, Forged in France

Henry Johnson grew up in rural North Carolina before moving north to Harlem, New York. The son of sharecroppers, he carried the weight of a nation still shackled by racial chains—but he didn’t carry fear. A devout Christian, Johnson’s faith ran deep like the roots of an old oak. “The Lord’s protection was my shield,” he would later say, and sometimes it was all he had on those dark battlefields.

In 1917, he volunteered for the all-black 369th Infantry Regiment—later hailed as the “Harlem Hellfighters.” Sent to France, the regiment found itself fighting alongside French forces, often denied the full respect of their own military but refusing to be defined by prejudice. Johnson operated as a sentry, armed with a rifle and a fearless heart. His service was more than uniform—it was a battle for dignity.

The Battle That Defined Him

Night of May 14, 1918. Near the French village of Ponchaux, enemy shadows crept close. Johnson and Pvt. Needham Roberts stood guard. The Germans launched a surprise raid—a lethal strike into the heart of the 369th’s trenches. Outnumbered and wounded early, Johnson refused to fall back.

With a shattered arm and multiple wounds, Johnson fought back with his rifle, then a bolo knife, then bare hands. The cacophony of gunfire clashed with his grunts and cries. He drove enemy soldiers away single-handedly, shielding Roberts and saving his unit from total annihilation. For hours. The enemy finally retreated. Johnson laid battered, but alive.

His wounds were severe. Nearly half his body bore scars from the fight. When he spoke later, there was no bravado—just a warrior’s exhaustion and resolve. “I didn’t think of dying. I was just trying to do my duty.”

Medal of Honor and Hard Truths

Initially, Johnson’s heroism was acknowledged by the French Republic—not the U.S. His actions earned him the Croix de Guerre with Palm, one of France’s highest honors for bravery.[1] Despite witnessing his valor firsthand, the American military dragged its feet. Racism and politics obscured his name for decades.

It wasn’t until 2015, nearly 100 years later, that Henry Johnson was awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously by President Barack Obama.[2] A nation finally recognized the sacrifice of one of its finest, albeit long overdue.

Brigadier General John MacAdoo, who commanded the 369th, described Johnson as,

“the bravest and most courageous soldier under my command... a true American hero.”

His Medal of Honor citation reads:

“For extraordinary heroism in action near Ponchaux, France, on May 15, 1918. Private First Class Johnson’s gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty reflect the highest credit upon himself and the United States Army.”

Legacy of Courage and Redemption

Henry Johnson’s story is not just about war—it is about resilience against the war within society’s soul. A black man, decorated for valor while his country turned its back on him. A soldier who carried both physical scars and the silent wounds of discrimination.

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” (John 15:13) Johnson lived these words. His fight was for his brothers in arms and for a future where valor isn’t judged by skin but by deeds.

Veterans today carry his legacy into their own battles—visible or invisible. The cost of freedom is etched in every scar, every sacrifice, every story told when the war drums fall silent.

Henry Johnson fought not only a war abroad, but a war for dignity at home. His courage lit a path through the darkness—a beacon for all who suffer yet still stand. The battlefield keeps its secrets, but his story demands remembrance. The debt of honor is owed not just in medals, but in truth and justice for those who wear the uniform.

Sources

[1] Yale University Press: Henry Johnson: Harlem Hellfighter and Medal of Honor Recipient [2] U.S. Army Center of Military History: Posthumous Medal of Honor for Sgt. Henry Johnson, 2015