Ernest E. Evans and USS Samuel B. Roberts at the Battle off Samar

Oct 30 , 2025

Ernest E. Evans and USS Samuel B. Roberts at the Battle off Samar

The sky cracked open with fire, and there he was — commanding a small cruiser against a fleet meant to obliterate him. Ernest E. Evans didn’t blink. The USS Samuel B. Roberts was a glorified destroyer escort, a punctuation mark among battleships and carriers. Facing the Imperial Japanese Navy’s might off Samar Island in October 1944, Evans drove straight into the storm with as much grit as any warrior has ever shown.

Background & Faith

Ernest Edward Evans was born in 1908, Oklahoma soil beneath his boots long before the war stained his hands. He joined the Navy in 1926, a man with steady resolve and a hush of quiet faith. In letters and later reflections, those who knew him nodded to his deep belief in duty to God and country.

A captain’s oath wasn’t empty words for Evans—it was covenant. Scripture fortified him:

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you.” — Deuteronomy 31:6

His leadership grew from that bedrock — not just tactical brilliance, but a moral iron will forged by everyday discipline, the weight of responsibility, and a quiet God who never shirked His promises.

The Battle That Defined Him

October 25, 1944. The Battle off Samar. One of the grimmest, most improbable last stands in naval warfare. The Samuel B. Roberts, Evans’ ship, was a "tin can" intended for convoy escort, nowhere near designed for frontline fleet engagements against battleships and heavy cruisers.

When Vice Admiral Takeo Kurita’s Center Force surged through the Philippine Sea, it wasn’t just a fight; it was David versus Goliath, with death breathing down every deck.

Evans took his cruiser into the inferno. He ordered full speed and fired everything the Roberts had. Torpedoes launched under blistering gunfire. With engines screaming and hull leaking, Evans didn’t yield. He maneuvered closer, putting his ship between the enemy and the American escort carriers—the so-called Taffy 3, a squadron desperately needing a shield.

Reports show the Roberts engaged battleships like the Kongo and cruisers like the Chikuma at point-blank range, taking heavy damage but refusing to break.

He radioed, “We’re making a fight of it!”—a message dripping with defiance and resolve. His orders were clear: delay the Japanese advance at whatever cost.

Minutes turned into hours. The Roberts was hit 20 times, flooding compartments and crippling engines. Still, Evans fought to the bitter end. His ship eventually capsized and sank; he went down with it, a captain in full command to his last breath.

Recognition in the Aftermath

The Navy posthumously awarded Ernest E. Evans the Medal of Honor for his action on that day. His citation reads:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty… [He] precipitated an engagement to confuse and delay a vastly superior force, thus saving the vital American escort carriers and their vital mission.”

Comrades called him warrior and shepherd—leading his flock through hellfire, knowing every decision meant lives on the line. Admiral William Halsey later called Evans’ stand “a feat of daring unmatched in the annals of naval battle.”

Legacy & Lessons

Evans’ story is raw sacrifice carved into the stone of history. His courage teaches that leadership is more than rank or orders—it is a sacred burden of those who stand between chaos and hope.

To face overwhelming odds and push back isn’t just heroism; it is redemption writ in steel and blood. His legacy reminds veterans and civilians alike of this truth:

“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” — John 15:13

Ernest E. Evans’ battle scars—both visible and unseen—speak across time. When the storm hits and all seems lost, the faintest flicker of resolve, the steadfast decision to stand and fight—that is the flame he lit for us all.

He was a man who knew the cost of war, who bore it without flinching. In his blood and fire, the soul of a warrior endures—undaunted, unbroken, forever ready to face the storm.

Sources

1. Naval History and Heritage Command, “Ernest E. Evans—Medal of Honor Recipient” 2. Morison, Samuel Eliot. History of United States Naval Operations in World War II (Vol. XII: Leyte) 3. Freeman, Gregory A. The Destroyer Escort and the Battle off Samar 4. U.S. Navy Unit Awards and Citations Archive