Ernest E. Evans and the Courage of Samuel B. Roberts

Dec 07 , 2025

Ernest E. Evans and the Courage of Samuel B. Roberts

Ernest E. Evans stood on the bridge of USS Samuel B. Roberts with hell roaring all around. Flames lit the night sky. Ships larger than his were closing in, their guns spitting death. He didn’t blink. He didn’t hesitate. He ordered his battered destroyer to charge enemy cruisers and battleships—bigger, deadlier, relentless.

This was a man who chose fight over flight.

The Making of a Warrior

Ernest E. Evans was born in Iowa, 1908. Raised amid honest grit and heartland faith, he was a man forged by duty before war called. His faith ran deep—he carried it silently, like armor beneath the uniform. No swagger; just a code grounded in sacrifice and service.

In the Navy, he was relentless. A leader who believed, “You never leave a man behind.” His men respected him not because he was fearless, but because he was fearless with them—sharing every risk, every burden.

The Battle That Defined Him

October 25, 1944. The Battle off Samar, one piece of the greater Leyte Gulf engagement. The Samuel B. Roberts, a Fletcher-class destroyer, came face to face with a Japanese force centuries ahead: battleships Yamato and Nagato, and heavy cruisers beyond count.

Outgunned roughly five-to-one, Evans made a choice no ordinary captain would dare: to fight.

“Close in. Fire everything!” he barked.

The Roberts charged. Shells shredded the air. His ship slammed by enemy fire but pressed forward. His gunners scored hits, crippling several enemy ships. Evans sacrificed his ship and men to buy time, save the escort carriers that were most vulnerable.

He died aboard the Roberts, mortally wounded but unyielding, shouting orders until his voice gave out. His ship exploded, went down with captain and courage burned into history.

Valor Recognized

Evans posthumously received the Medal of Honor. The citation speaks to the heart of his actions:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity... in the face of overwhelming odds... his daring, inspiring leadership, and valiant fighting spirit... were in keeping with the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.” ^1

Comrades remembered his voice cutting through chaos. Rear Admiral Clifton Sprague called Evans “one of the finest officers I ever knew.” His legacy lived on in every sailor who heard that battle cry—fight to the last man, last shell, last breath.

Lessons from the Brink

Evans showed what courage looks like when the world narrows to a line of fire and a choice between survival and sacrifice.

He fought knowing certain death lurked, but led with a ferocity born of faith and fierce responsibility. Not for glory, not for war’s politics—for the men beside him, for the mission, for the future.

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

His scars are immortal. His story is a testament not just to combat valor, but to the enduring power of human will and purpose beyond the carnage.

The sea took Ernest Evans, but it could never drown the example he set. Even today, his spirit whispers in the wind—stand firm, stand together, and fight with all you have when the darkness comes knocking.

That fight lives on in each of us who dare to carry the burden of legacy and sacrifice.

Sources

1. Naval History and Heritage Command, Medal of Honor Citation for Ernest E. Evans 2. Samuel Eliot Morison, History of United States Naval Operations in World War II, Vol. XIII 3. Rear Admiral Clifton Sprague, Testimony, Battle off Samar archives