Oct 05 , 2025

Sgt Henry Johnson's WWI Valor and Medal of Honor Legacy

Blood and twilight bleeding through the trees. A lone warrior stands—wounded, outnumbered, but unyielding. The crackling of gunfire, the sharp scent of gunpowder and mud — this was Sgt. Henry Johnson on the night of May 15, 1918. A man driven by something deeper than fear or survival — something close to sacred resolve.

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The Roots of a Warrior

Born in 1892 in Albany, New York, Henry Johnson was raised in a time that clutched tightly to honor and hard work. The son of African American parents, he grew up in a country that often saw him as less than equal but never less than human. His faith was the backbone of his resilience — a quiet, unshakable trust in God that grounded him through the darkest nights.

Before the war, he worked as a porter and laborer, but when America called, he answered with no hesitation. Johnson enlisted in the New York National Guard’s 15th Infantry Regiment, which became the 369th Infantry Regiment — the famed Harlem Hellfighters. These men faced a double battle: fighting abroad amidst the scourge of WWI and combating the prejudice rigged against them at home. Their discipline and spirit turned skeptics into believers, enemies into witnesses.

“God gave me strength to keep fighting,” Johnson would later say. It wasn’t bravado — it was survival carved from faith.

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The Battle That Defined Him

May 15, 1918. Near the village of Bois-d’Ailly, France.

Under the cloak of darkness, a German raiding party launched a surprise assault on Johnson’s unit. The enemy was relentless. The dead and wounded littered the earth. But Sgt. Henry Johnson was no ordinary soldier. Armed only with a rifle, a bolo knife, and sheer will, he single-handedly tore through the enemy lines.

Guns jammed, grenades cracked, and Johnson fought with brutal ferocity—steel and sinew. He repelled the assault, slashing and shooting, despite sustaining 21 wounds: bayonet stabs, gunshots, and shrapnel. When his rifle malfunctioned, he relied on his blade and bare hands—pulling a wounded comrade to safety amid the chaos.

This was no reckless charge. It was sacrifice carved from desperation and duty—a stand made against a tide meant to drown his brothers in arms. His actions not only saved his unit but shattered enemy momentum.

“Johnson’s heroism was both savage and pure,” recorded one officer. “He fought not for glory, but for survival and the lives of those around him.”[1]

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Recognition Delayed but Earned

Heroism buried in shadow for too long.

Henry Johnson earned the Croix de Guerre from France — their highest military honor — in 1918, recognizing his courage under fire. Yet back home in America, segregation and racial bias delayed the recognition he deserved.

It wasn’t until 2015—nearly a century later—that Johnson was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, the nation’s highest military decoration.

President Barack Obama presented the medal to Johnson’s family, acknowledging both the valor shown on that night and the long road toward justice.

“He fought and sacrificed in the face of impossible odds,” Obama said during the ceremony. “His story is one of courage and an example for all Americans.”[2]

The Harlem Hellfighters as a whole transformed the narrative about Black soldiers—breaking chains of doubt and carving a legacy of excellence and sacrifice in the trenches of Europe.

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A Legacy Written in Blood and Faith

Henry Johnson’s story is etched into the blood-soaked earth of WWI, but its echoes ripple far beyond that battlefield. He embodied the warrior who fights not just the external enemy but the inner battles of fear, prejudice, and doubt.

“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

Johnson fought with that promise in his heart.

His legacy teaches us that courage is not the absence of wounds but the will to stand refusing to be broken. It is the resolve to protect your brothers when the world counts you out. It is a faith that fuels sacrifice—silent, steadfast, and real.

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When we remember Sgt. Henry Johnson, we remember more than the scars and medals. We remember redemption — the redemption of a man, a people, and a nation wrestling with its own conscience.

His blade cut through night and fear. His example remains a clarion call: in every fight worth fighting, the cost is pain, but the reward is honor unyielding.

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Sources

[1] The Harlem Hellfighters: An Annotated Bibliography, U.S. Army Center of Military History [2] White House Archives, Medal of Honor Ceremony for Sgt. Henry Johnson, 2015

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