Ernest E. Evans and the Samuel B. Roberts' Heroic Stand

Dec 30 , 2025

Ernest E. Evans and the Samuel B. Roberts' Heroic Stand

The air screamed under the pounding shells—each concussion wrenching the USS Samuel B. Roberts like a dying beast. Smoke choked the deck; men screamed. Commander Ernest E. Evans fought through that hell, eyes steeled, heart set on one impossible truth: failure was death.

The Man Behind the Steel

Ernest Edwin Evans was born in Iowa in 1908, raised with Midwestern grit and a firm faith that tempered his fierce resolve. He carried a quiet dignity born of humble roots and the hard lessons of the Great Depression. His Christian foundation was no quiet refuge—it was the backbone of his leadership.

His men saw a man who believed deeply that sacrifice had a meaning beyond survival. He honored a warrior’s code not just with words but with deeds, never hesitating to place himself in harm’s way.

A graduate of the Naval Academy in 1931, Evans sharpened his edge in the Pacific theatre, building a reputation as a no-nonsense leader who demanded toughness and showed it himself. His faith and stern resolve forged a commander who could bear the unbearable.

The Battle That Defined Him: Samar, October 25, 1944

The Samuel B. Roberts was a John C. Butler-class destroyer escort—the Navy’s answer to the war’s deadly submarines and air raids but no match for the enemy’s might. On October 25, 1944, Evans and his crew faced the blood of history at the Battle off Samar, part of the larger Leyte Gulf engagement.

They stumbled onto the Japanese Center Force—battleships, cruisers, and destroyers dwarfing their small escort ship. Evans made a chilling decision: attack anyway. He charged headlong into the maw of steel and firepower to cover the retreat of vulnerable American escort carriers.

“The enemy,” Evans reportedly said, “will find the Samuel B. Roberts a hard target to break.”

He maneuvered fearlessly, launching torpedoes and laying down a ferocious smoke screen while taking the brunt of battleship salvos. His 500-ton ship darted between giants, absorbing shell hits and still pressing forward. His men fought with desperation matched only by his fiery presence on the bridge.

In the end, the Samuel B. Roberts was torn apart—guns silenced, engines dead, listing heavily. Evans was thrown into the water, wounded and weak. He was pulled from the sea but died hours later from his injuries.

Recognition for Unyielding Valor

Ernest E. Evans posthumously received the Medal of Honor—the Navy’s highest tribute to personal valor. The citation lays bare the magnitude of his courage:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty... boldly launching an immediate torpedo attack against a much superior force and continuously engaging the enemy in a fight to the last, inflicting serious damage on the enemy’s heavy force...”

His actions delayed and disrupted the Japanese fleet, allowing American carriers to escape destruction at a critical juncture in the Pacific War.[1]

Comrades remember Evans as a man who felt the burden of command like a soldier takes on his scars. Vice Admiral Clifton Sprague hailed the Samuel B. Roberts’ stand as “one of the most heroic actions in naval history.”

Legacy Etched in Sacrifice

Ernest Evans did not just fight ships; he fought chaos, fear, and the shadow of death itself. His stand was a brutal testament that courage is no absence of fear but a mastery of it. Through him flows a legacy of fierce leadership, unity in combat, and faith unshaken by the hellfire around him.

His story whispers the bitter truth every combat veteran knows: sometimes salvation is bought with the blood of those who refuse to yield, who sacrifice so others might live to fight—or simply live at all.

From his sacrifice rises a call to all who bear burdens:

“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

Ernest E. Evans willed his destroyer escort into the abyss and made certain none would follow. His heart beat loudest in the silence after the guns fell still—that place where honor, faith, and sacrifice meet.

He gave us a truth forged by fire: some battles are lost to win a greater war.

Sources

1. Naval History and Heritage Command, Medal of Honor Citation - Ernest E. Evans 2. Samuel Eliot Morison, History of United States Naval Operations in World War II, Volume XIII: The Liberation of the Philippines 3. Vice Admiral Clifton Sprague, Accounts of the Battle off Samar, 1944