Ernest E. Evans and USS Samuel B. Roberts at Leyte Gulf

Nov 02 , 2025

Ernest E. Evans and USS Samuel B. Roberts at Leyte Gulf

Ernest E. Evans stood on the bridge of USS Samuel B. Roberts, eyes burning with resolve. The sky bled red with tracer fire. Enemy cruisers loomed, massive and merciless. His ship was a 1,200-ton destroyer escort— barely a match for the Japanese battleships and cruisers bearing down on them. Yet Evans gave the order: Close in. Fight hard. Do not let them pass. There was no room for hesitation. This was a man who chose to face death rather than retreat.

From Farm Boy to Fighting Sailor

Ernest Edwin Evans was born in 1908, Oklahoma, but it was Wyoming that shaped his grit. Raised in a modest household, he absorbed lessons on hard work and honor. A man of sturdy faith, Evans saw service as a sacred calling. His character was not forged overnight but hammered through years in the Navy, where discipline met a sense of duty deeper than politics or pride.

He believed in something greater—a higher purpose behind sacrifice. Psalm 23 whispered through his mind in dark waters:

“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil.”

It was this faith, paired with raw courage, that anchored him when war stripped away any illusion of safety.

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

The morning of October 25, 1944, is etched in the annals of valor. Evans commanded Samuel B. Roberts, part of “Taffy 3,” a task unit—seven escort carriers, three destroyers, and four destroyer escorts—scrambling to defend Leyte Gulf from an overwhelming Japanese fleet.

The Japanese Center Force, ten battleships, cruisers, and destroyers armed to crush anything in its path, approached with lethal intent. It was a killing ground. Evans understood the odds—hopeless, but not meaningless.

When the heavy guns opened fire, Evans ordered something remarkable: a chase at full throttle straight into the enemy’s line. He turned his tiny ship into a nightmare the Japanese had not expected.

Samuel B. Roberts raced forward, launching torpedoes, laying smoke to protect the carriers, trading shellfire directly with battleships. Overwhelming rounds pummeled his ship. The USS Roberts took multiple hits, her deck alight, engines shot, casualties mounting.

Evans remained on the bridge, issuing commands:

“Keep your head down and eyes open. The carriers depend on us.”

Even when the ship was crippled, he gave the order to ram the cruiser Chōkai with the last bit of fighting power left. Samuel B. Roberts disintegrated under the weight of the fight, but her sacrifice wreaked havoc, forcing the Japanese to break off the attack.

Evans himself was gravely wounded. His blood mingled with the salt sea, but he refused to abandon ship until his crew was safe.

Recognition Written in Blood

For his heroic leadership and selfless bravery, Ernest E. Evans posthumously received the Medal of Honor. The citation spares no words:

“Commander Evans distinguished himself by extraordinary heroism... His indomitable courage and fighting spirit upheld the highest traditions of the United States Naval Service.”

His legacy was carried by surviving crew and commanders like Admiral William Halsey, who called Taffy 3’s stand “one of the most gallant and daring acts in naval history.”

Comrades remembered Evans not just as a tactician but as a living testament to courage under fire—a beacon for all who would follow.

Legacy: Fight With Honor, Fight To The End

Ernest E. Evans’s story is a grim reminder that war demands more than steel and fire. It demands hearts willing to beat against hopeless odds. The Samuel B. Roberts showed what one man’s resolve can mean against a tidal wave of destruction.

His life is carved into the truth that sacrifice carries weight beyond the battlefield. “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13). Evans lived by it. He died by it. And in that death, he gave every soldier and sailor a lesson in unmoving purpose.

His story is a razor: the painful edge of valor and loss. To honor Evans is not to mythologize, but to remember that courage is a choice. When the night grows dark, and giants seem too large to face—stand firm. Fight hard. Sacrifice with faith. The legacy of Ernest E. Evans is a call to arms for the human spirit itself.

Sources

1. Naval History and Heritage Command, Medal of Honor: Ernest E. Evans 2. Samuel Eliot Morison, History of United States Naval Operations in World War II, Volume 12: Leyte 3. Richard Frank, Guadalcanal: The Definitive Account of the Landmark Battle (for combat context) 4. Official citation, Medal of Honor Recipients: World War II, U.S. Navy