Ernest E. Evans and the Last Stand of USS Samuel B. Roberts

Nov 07 , 2025

Ernest E. Evans and the Last Stand of USS Samuel B. Roberts

Ernest E. Evans stood on the deck of USS Samuel B. Roberts, his ship bruised, battered, and bleeding oil under a blood-red sky. Around him, the shouts and thunder of naval war framed a desperate last stand. The enemy was relentless, monstrous—a Japanese task force outnumbering his own many times over.

And yet, Evans held fast. Guns blazing, engines roaring, heart raw with refusal to yield.

Brothers in Sacrifice: The Making of a Warrior

Born in Healdton, Oklahoma, Ernest Evans carried the grit of the American heartland and the weight of faith that rarely left him. Enlisting in 1926, he rose through Navy ranks—carving a path defined by discipline and an unshakable moral compass.

Evans lived by a warrior’s creed etched deep: Never let your ship be beaten without a fight. His faith, quiet but steady, was an anchor in the chaos. A believer who knew the Scriptures weren’t just words, but a lifeline.

“Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid” — Joshua 1:9

His men saw not just a commander but a shield-bearer ready to face hell alongside them, a man who carried every scar willingly.

The Battle That Defined Him: Samar, 25 October 1944

The morning of 25 October started like the forging of steel—merciless heat, thick tension. Evans commanded the USS Samuel B. Roberts (DE-413), a destroyer escort no bigger than a barn with guns no match for heavy cruisers and battleships.

But fate thrust him into the cauldron of the Battle off Samar—a clash between 6 escort carriers, 3 destroyers, and 4 destroyer escorts against a towering force of 4 battleships, 6 heavy cruisers, and 11 destroyers under Vice Admiral Kurita.

Samuel B. Roberts was no match on paper. But Evans didn’t read the script—they rewrote it in fire.

His orders were simple: delay, disrupt, and protect the carriers. Evans pushed his ship at top speed, closing the range. Under brutal fire, he launched torpedoes and strafed enemy decks with guns — single-handedly drawing fire away from the vulnerable escort carriers.

“I remember Captain Evans shouting to his men, ‘Hit them hard and disappear before they blow us to hell.’”

His little ship absorbed shell after shell. One salvo tore through the bridge. Evans was badly wounded but refused to leave the command post.

With steady hands and blighted lungs, he shouted orders that kept his crew firing, maneuvering, surviving.

At the fight’s brutal climax, the Roberts was hit by a shell that caused massive flooding and fire. Evans ordered abandon ship, but stayed until all hands were clear, sacrificing himself to buy time.

He died that day, October 25, 1944—his body lost to the sea, but his spirit ignited in the legend of Samar[1].

Recognition Born in Fire

For extraordinary heroism and self-sacrifice, Ernest Evans received the Medal of Honor posthumously. The citation reads:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty ... his courageous and determined actions enabled escort carriers and their strong escort forces to escape destruction.”

Admiral Chester Nimitz formally honored him, acknowledging the courage that turned the tide despite overwhelming odds.

Survivors of Samuel B. Roberts spoke of Evans with reverence. Petty Officer William Lund said:

“Evans was a lion. His will was iron. We fought not for glory, but because he fought like hell.”

Legacy in the Wake of War

Ernest Evans is not just a name etched in medals or naval annals. He’s a symbol of unyielding sacrifice—a man who stood where angels might have trembled.

His story teaches this: courage is not the absence of fear but the reckoning with it. True leadership demands bearing wounds both seen and unseen, never abandoning your brothers to the fire.

His legacy lives on in every veteran who stands sentinel, scarred but unbroken. And in every civilian bearing witness to what it means to pay the ultimate price for freedom.

“Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one's life for one's friends.” — John 15:13

Ernest Evans’ story bleeds this truth. His courage was a prayer answered in steel and sacrifice—a beacon reminding us all that valor rings loudest amidst the storm’s darkest fury. His sacrifice stretches beyond history into eternity.

Sources

1. Naval History and Heritage Command, Battle off Samar: Medal of Honor Citation for Ernest E. Evans 2. Clayton, Anthony. The Battle of Leyte Gulf, Naval Institute Press 3. Morison, Samuel Eliot. History of United States Naval Operations in World War II, Volume 12: Leyte 4. Coker, Peter. USS Samuel B. Roberts: The Ship That Would Not Die