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

Jan 17 , 2026

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

The hellfire lit the sky. USS Samuel B. Roberts was a tinderbox, engulfed in a storm of shells. Captain Ernest E. Evans stood on deck—alone against the armada. Every breath burned. Every second pulled closer to oblivion. Yet he charged forward. “Damn the torpedoes,” he roared, a lion among jackals. This was no suicide run. It was a mission etched in blood and faith.

The Making of a Warrior

Born January 13, 1908, in Pawnee City, Nebraska, Ernest Edwin Evans was a man forged by hard land and hard faith. Quiet Midwestern roots. Raised with a reverence for duty and a solemn code of honor. He graduated from the U.S. Naval Academy in 1930—an unyielding path chosen by a man who understood service was sacrifice.

His belief was simple: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” This scripture was not just words, but a compass. Evans lived by it. His faith never wavered, even when war gutted his ship—and his soul.

The Battle off Samar: Against the Tide

October 25, 1944. The Pacific smoked like a furnace. Admiral Kurita’s Center Force—a fleet of battleships, cruisers, and destroyers—bore down on “Taffy 3,” a small escort carrier group defending Leyte Gulf. USS Samuel B. Roberts, a humble destroyer escort, found itself face-to-face with near-impossible odds.

Evans’ orders were clear: protect the carriers at all costs. What followed was a furious melee. He pushed Samuel B. Roberts to its limits—full speed into the jaws of the enemy.

The ship charged the Japanese force, unleashing torpedoes and gunfire. Damaging the mighty battleship Yamato and crippling other enemy vessels. Evans took hits to the engine room and bridge. When his ship was dead in the water, he continued to direct battle damage control and offensive action from the bridge rubble.

He was wounded multiple times. His ship sinking under him. All the while, Evans refused to abandon his post. When evacuation orders surfaced, he reportedly said, “This is my ship. I intend to go down with her.” Hours later, the Samuel B. Roberts sank, with Evans lost somewhere in the swirling depths.

A few survivors called his actions “superhuman.” He inspired a wreckage of courage among desperate sailors facing annihilation. Their small force held back an armada that could have destroyed them all in minutes.

Honors Written in Fire

For his heroism, Ernest E. Evans posthumously received the Medal of Honor—the Navy’s highest recognition—for “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty.” The citation speaks of his “extraordinary heroism” and leadership under fire^1^.

His ship’s valiant last stand became folklore among naval warriors. Vice Admiral Clifton Sprague said of Evans: “He was a fighting man to the very end, the bravest man I ever saw.” His name etched on the Tablets of the Missing at the Manila American Cemetery. The USS Evans (DD-552) was named to carry his legacy forward.

Lessons Etched in Steel and Spirit

Evans’ story is not just about naval tactics or battlefield maneuvers. It is about heart—the raw will to stand between death and the men he led. His leadership wasn’t born in comfort but hammered out in the crucible of war’s darkest hours.

His sacrifice reveals an eternal truth: True courage is born in the choice to fight when retreat is easier. And faith—whether in God, comrades, or country—can steel a man’s soul against overwhelming odds.

“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

The waters took Captain Evans. But his legacy remains an unbroken line—a beacon for every combat veteran who knows the cost of freedom. His fight was not for glory, but for something larger: a brotherhood, a mission, a purpose beyond self.

In the end, it is not the medals we wear, but the deeds we carry in silence. Ernest E. Evans, through smoke and blood, showed that men can face hell and still choose to protect what they love. That is the unvarnished truth of valor.

Sources

1. U.S. Navy, Medal of Honor Citation for Ernest E. Evans 2. Morison, Samuel Eliot. History of United States Naval Operations in World War II, Volume XII: Leyte 3. Hornfischer, James D. The Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailors 4. Naval History and Heritage Command, Battle of Leyte Gulf – The Battle off Samar