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

Dec 03 , 2025

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

Steel sang through the morning haze. The shattered deck of the USS Samuel B. Roberts trembled beneath Ernest Evans’s feet—the man who refused to die quietly. Enemy shells screamed overhead, yet he pressed forward, blazing back at a force ten times his size. His orders weren’t complicated: protect the convoy. But the cost carved deep scars. Smoke and molten metal filled the air. This was no ship to surrender.

The Battle That Defined Him

October 25, 1944—The Battle off Samar. It wasn’t supposed to be a fight. A small escort carrier task force, “Taffy 3,” caught the eye of Vice Admiral Takeo Kurita’s powerful fleet. Eight battleships, twelve cruisers bearing down with terrifying firepower.

Into the jaws of death sailed Lieutenant Commander Ernest E. Evans commanding the Samuel B. Roberts (DE-413), a destroyer escort that might have been swallowed in a single broadside. Instead, Evans turned that small warship into a fury of steel and defiance.

His ship, no match on paper against the Japanese battleships’ 18-inch guns, threw down the gauntlet. He charged headlong, firing all 5-inch guns, launching torpedoes, weaving among cruisers, drawing their fire.

His orders? Hold the line—so the carriers could flee—and live.

Despite shrapnel wounds and losing half the crew, Evans refused to abandon ship. His courage slowed the enemy long enough to save the carriers and disrupt an entire Japanese fleet assault.

The Samuel B. Roberts sank. So did Evans—his ship went down with him in the waters near Samar Island, a small speck of sacrifice in a vast, brutal ocean battle.[1]

Roots of a Warrior

Born in 1908 in Tulsa, Oklahoma, Ernest Evans grew up with grit and faith shaping his bones. Raised in a family holding fast to Christian values, he found early strength in discipline and duty.

“I’m just a man doing my job,” was the stoic phrase that cloaked a fierce heart. But beneath that humility lay a code forged in prayer and conviction: lead from the front, shield those behind, and honor holds until the last breath.

His faith wasn’t just words. It was a compass in chaos. Scripture like

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid… for the LORD your God goes with you.” (Deuteronomy 31:6)

lived in him, driving steady hands in the storm’s eye.

Hell Unleashed: Taffy 3’s Last Stand

The Japanese force bore down like a tidal wave. Their orders: crush the American escort carriers and sever MacArthur’s advance. The Battle off Samar, part of the larger Leyte Gulf engagement, could have shattered the invasion fleet instantly.

Evans’s destroyer escort, a vessel built for anti-submarine work and convoy defense, took on heavy cruisers and battleships.

His approach was brutal and direct—guns blazing, torpedoes screaming toward ships three to four times his size. He knew well the odds. No hope but to fight.

When shrapnel struck his face and a near-mortal shell blast ripped apart his ship’s guns, Evans pressed on. Crew members reported his voice never wavered amid the chaos.[2]

His ship’s actions caused significant damage to many enemy vessels and forced Kurita to order a retreat, sparing the invasion force untold carnage.

When the Samuel B. Roberts finally succumbed, Evans was last seen on the bridge, rallying his men to fight until the bitter end. His sacrifice bought lives and time.

Honors of Blood and Valor

Posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, Evans’s citation praised “conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life above and beyond the call of duty.” His leadership in overwhelming odds became a beacon of naval heroism in WWII.

Fellow Sailor Everett B. Burke recalled,

“Evans never faltered; his courage held us all. Without him, Taffy 3 wouldn’t have lived to fight another day.”

Official records confirm Evans’s actions inflicted severe damage on enemy vessels and were instrumental in stalling the Japanese advance for crucial hours.[3]

His name remains etched on the walls of honor, a testament to a warrior who chose sacrifice over survival.

Legacy Carved in Steel and Spirit

Ernest E. Evans exemplifies the soldier’s sacred burden—to hold the line when all hope seems lost. His story teaches that courage is not the absence of fear but the choice to move forward despite it.

His sacrifice was not in vain; it turned the tide in one of the Pacific War’s most desperate engagements, reminding us that even the smallest ship with the strongest will can change history.

More than a medal, Evans leaves us a blueprint—lead bravely, sacrifice truly, and hold faith fast amid hell.

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

In a world quick to forget those who pay the ultimate price, Evans’s legacy demands remembrance—not as a relic, but as a living challenge to stand firm when darkness stares back.

Sources

1. Naval History and Heritage Command, Battle off Samar: The Last Stand of Taffy 3 2. Hornfischer, James D., The Last Stand of the Tin Can Sailors (2004) 3. U.S. Navy Medal of Honor citation for Ernest E. Evans (1944)