Ernest E. Evans and His Medal of Honor from the Battle off Samar

Jan 27 , 2026

Ernest E. Evans and His Medal of Honor from the Battle off Samar

Ernest E. Evans stood at the prow of the USS Samuel B. Roberts as the sun dawned on October 25, 1944. The sea stretched calm. What no man could see—but what every sailor would soon face—was an armada of Japanese warships bent on crushing the U.S. Navy in the greatest surface engagement of the Pacific War.

He was a David against a Goliath fleet. Unyielding. Unrelenting.


Blood and Steel: The Making of a Warrior

Ernest Edwin Evans was born in 1908 in Pawnee, Oklahoma—a prairie town tough enough to breed a warrior’s resolve. Raised in modest surroundings, Evans forged a path defined by discipline and duty. Unlike many of his generation, he was reserved but unshakable, driven more by what lay beneath than what showed on the surface.

His faith was quietly woven into his steel-spined leadership. A man who believed in serving others above self, Evans carried a personal code akin to Psalm 18:39:

"For You have equipped me with strength for battle; You have subdued under me those who rose against me."

He was not just a commander of men, but a shepherd of souls.


The Battle That Defined Him

The Battle off Samar—part of the larger Leyte Gulf confrontation—was nothing short of apocalyptic. On that fateful morning in the Philippine Sea, Evans commanded the USS Samuel B. Roberts, a Fletcher-class destroyer converted to a high-speed escort.

Facing 23 heavily armed Japanese ships, including battleships like the Yamato, the Roberts and her crew were a hardened smattering of escorts and escort carriers—Task Unit 77.4.3—"Taffy 3." This was a last, desperate line of defense.

Evans made a choice that immortalized his name: he ordered direct engagement with the enemy fleet, a clash that bordered on suicidal. With torpedoes primed and guns screaming, Samuel B. Roberts darted into the teeth of the Japanese line.

His actions were nothing less than sacrificial. The Roberts took hit after hit, shells ripping through steel and flesh. Yet Evans chewed through enemy destroyers with aggressive torpedo runs, absorbing fire meant to shield carriers slipping away. His ship—smaller, slower, outgunned—acted like a raging pitbull snapping at the heels of giants.

Despite the chaos, his voice rallied men through frantic radio commands: “Stand by to make a torpedo attack.” That stark order was a promise of defiance and doom.

The Roberts was fatally crippled. Evans was mortally wounded, but even from his dying bed, he remained steadfast—his ship’s colors never struck. The sacrifice of Evans and his crew bought priceless minutes, ensuring many escort carriers escaped annihilation.


The Medal of Honor: Testament of Valor

For his "extraordinary heroism, conspicuous intrepidity, and valiant leadership," Ernest E. Evans was awarded the Medal of Honor posthumously. His citation reads:

"Although mortally wounded, Commander Evans remained at his battle station and fought his ship against overwhelming odds in order to defend the task unit and protect the vital escort carriers."

Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz remarked,

"Commander Evans was a commander of infinite courage and determination. He set a standard of supreme gallantry and heroic leadership."

His legacy was not just in medals but in hearts. Surviving crew members repeatedly spoke of his calm in the inferno and steady reassurance amid the storm of war.


Legacy Carved in Sea and Spirit

Evans’s story is not one of brute force but of gritty will and a warrior’s heart willing to face certain death for the lives of others.

From the rust and wreckage, a lesson rings clear: real courage is not the absence of fear but the choice to stand unforgivingly in its path.

In an age that too often forgets the blood paid by those before us, Commander Evans reminds us what it means to lead with honor in hellfire.

He showed a battered ship could fight like a lion—and that a man’s soul could still reach toward grace amid the carnage.

The USS Samuel B. Roberts earned the nickname "the destroyer escort that fought like a battleship." Its story, and Evans’s sacrifice, remain etched in naval history as a symbol of indomitable spirit.


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

Ernest E. Evans did not just fight battles—he carried a legacy of sacrifice that whispers to every warrior and civilian alike: some debts can only be paid in blood and courage. And through those scars, redemption waits—tough, relentless, and real.


Sources

1. Naval History and Heritage Command, “Samuel B. Roberts (DE-413) Action Report,” WWII Naval Archives. 2. Nimitz, Chester W., Fleet Admiral: Naval Heroes and Realities, Naval Institute Press. 3. United States Congress, Medal of Honor Citation for Ernest E. Evans, 1944.


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1 Comments

  • 27 Jan 2026 Maxie T

    Nice


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