Commander Ernest E. Evans and USS Samuel B. Roberts' Stand

Jan 09 , 2026

Commander Ernest E. Evans and USS Samuel B. Roberts' Stand

He stood on the bridge of the USS Samuel B. Roberts, surrounded by smoke and fire, knowing the enemy fleet outgunned him ten to one. Torpedoes screamed over the water as shells tore through steel around him. Against impossible odds, Commander Ernest E. Evans steered his battered destroyer straight into hell. There was no retreat — only fight, kill, survive.


From Small-Town Ohio to the Warrior’s Code

Ernest Edwin Evans grew up in Paw Paw, Michigan, not far from the quiet shores of Lake Michigan. A Midwestern boy forged in modesty and faith, Evans carried a soldier’s heart beneath his crisp naval uniform. He graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1926, the quiet grit of a man who believed duty before self wasn’t just a motto, but a way of life.

His faith was his anchor. It may have been private and unspoken, but those who served with him sensed something in the way he carried himself — steady, unshakable, resolute. Like steel forged in fire. Evans had no illusions about war; he carried sword and shield with reverence, not pride. His honor was battle-born and battle-tested.


The Battle That Defined Him

October 25, 1944. The waters around Samar Island churned cold and deadly. The Japanese Center Force, a battleship fleet with heavy cruisers and over a dozen warships, bore down on a tiny task unit of American escort carriers and destroyers — Taffy 3.

Evans’ Samuel B. Roberts was a Fletcher-class destroyer, fast but lightly armed compared to the looming enemy. The order was clear: delay, disrupt, do whatever it takes to protect the carriers. Small ships, charged with a colossal burden.

When the Japanese fleet appeared over the horizon, Evans did the unthinkable: he pressed forward, into their line of fire, launching torpedoes, firing every gun, snarling defiance at the gods of war.

He maneuvered the Roberts with unparalleled bravery, despite severe damage and catastrophic casualties on board. His ship took direct hits from heavy cruisers and battleships — the superstructure shattered, engineering flooded — but under his command, the Roberts kept fighting.

Evans called out orders that were equal parts prayer and steel: keep up speed, bring the enemy down, defend the carriers. Twice, Roberts got close enough to launch torpedoes that forced the massive Japanese force to change course. Twice, Evans faced down death with grim certainty.

At one point, the Roberts was pummeled so badly it sank, but not before Evans was mortally wounded, refusing to leave the bridge. His last acts saved the carriers and contributed decisively to one of the most astonishing stand-offs in naval warfare — a David vs. Goliath moment that turned the tide of the Battle of Leyte Gulf.


Honors Etched in Blood

Posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, Evans’ citation reads like a call to arms for every warrior who has faced overwhelming odds:

“Commander Evans fought his ship and crew against great odds... he boldly attacked a vastly superior Japanese surface force… by his valiant and aggressive leadership, he so damaged the enemy that effective retirement of the American escort carrier and her screen was made possible.”

Vice Admiral Thomas C. Kinkaid described Evans as “one of the bravest men in the Navy”. His courage inspired the entire Taffy 3 task unit. The Navy named a destroyer escort USS Ernest E. Evans (DE-264) in his honor, a testament to the enduring legacy of sacrifice and fearless command.


A Legacy Etched in Courage and Redemption

Ernest Evans gave up everything on those waters for something greater than life itself — the survival of his shipmates, the mission, the future of a free world.

His story is not just about war. It’s about the weight of leadership when choices mean life or death. It’s about a man anchored by faith under fire, who found strength in service, and peace in purpose.

“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

From the rust-streaked decks of the Samuel B. Roberts to the quiet streets where veterans still walk with scars, Evans’ sacrifice speaks across the decades: courage isn’t the absence of fear, but the stubborn refusal to let it win.

He fought not for glory but for the men who looked to him for hope when the horizon burned red.


Sources

1. U.S. Navy — Medal of Honor citation for Commander Ernest E. Evans 2. The Battle of Leyte Gulf by H.P. Willmott, Naval Institute Press 3. Official Navy Histories — Taffy 3 and the Battle off Samar 4. Thomas C. Kinkaid, Naval Diaries and Battle Reports, National Archives


Older Post Newer Post


Related Posts

How John A. Chapman Earned the Medal of Honor at Takur Ghar
How John A. Chapman Earned the Medal of Honor at Takur Ghar
John A. Chapman’s final fight was a testament writ in fire and blood. Amidst the howling Afghan mountains, pinned dow...
Read More
John A. Chapman at Takur Ghar and a Medal of Honor Legacy
John A. Chapman at Takur Ghar and a Medal of Honor Legacy
They called in the rescue. Darkness hung heavy over Takur Ghar. Every second was a knife twisting in the gut of hope....
Read More
Staff Sergeant John Chapman’s Valor at Takur Ghar and Medal of Honor
Staff Sergeant John Chapman’s Valor at Takur Ghar and Medal of Honor
The roar of gunfire swallowed any sound but the desperate crackle of battle. Beneath the swirling smoke, Staff Sergea...
Read More

Leave a comment