Ernest E. Evans' Charge Aboard USS Johnston Helped Save Taffy 3

Nov 14 , 2025

Ernest E. Evans' Charge Aboard USS Johnston Helped Save Taffy 3

Ernest E. Evans stood on the bridge of USS Johnston as the incendiary firestorms of the Battle off Samar screamed around him. Battleships nearly ten times his ship’s tonnage closed in like wolves on a wounded deer. The enemy counted on his destruction—and yet, he charged headlong into a maelstrom, guns blazing, willing to trade steel for flesh to protect his carriers.

He was not just a commander. He was a thunderbolt born from the storm.


The Making of a Warrior

Born in 1908 in the dusty heart of Oklahoma, Ernest Edwin Evans carried a fire few could extinguish. He graduated from the United States Naval Academy in 1931, a man forged in discipline and dry-eyed resolve. Evans was known among his peers not just for tactical brilliance but for an unshakable moral compass. Faith wasn’t just a phrase to him—it was armor.

Raised in a Methodist household, Evans clung to scripture as a guide through the chaos he would face. He believed in a warrior’s purpose beyond victory—one of sacrifice and service. One of his favorite verses was Psalm 23:4:

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me.”

This was no idle comfort. It was a battle cry.


The Battle That Defined Him

October 25, 1944. The waters off Samar Island boiled with hell. Task Unit 77.4.3—an escort carrier group called "Taffy 3"—was suddenly and violently confronted by Vice Admiral Takeo Kurita's mighty Center Force. Kurita’s armada boasted battleships, heavy cruisers, and destroyers—firepower that dwarfed Evans’s humble destroyer, USS Johnston (DD-557).

The Johnston was a wartime David facing a Goliath of steel dreadnoughts.

Evans refused to yield.

At the helm, he directed a series of aggressive torpedo runs into the enemy fleet. His five-inch guns hammered cruisers and battleships alike. When accompanying destroyers faltered under overwhelming fire, Johnston rammed twice, shattering her hull but buying precious seconds.

Each order was laced with grim resolve: “Charge. Give them hell.”

Under relentless enemy fire, with ammunition dwindling and the ship DAMAGED BEYOND REPAIR, Evans fought on until the Johnston took a fatal hit—breaking her back, sending her to the depths, taking Evans with her.

His last battle was a testament not to the size of his ship, but the size of his heart.


Valor Etched in Steel

Posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, Evans was celebrated for "extraordinary courage" and "tenacious fighting spirit"—phrases that only scrape the surface of his soul’s grit.

“Evans exhibited the highest qualities of leadership,” the citation read, “remaining on the bridge, fighting fiercely to the last.”

Comrades who survived remember him as a man who walked into the teeth of calamity with a calm voice and unwavering purpose.

Lieutenant Commander Robert E. Riefkohl of USS Samuel B. Roberts noted:

“His actions gave us the time we needed to regroup and survive... he was a brave lion.”

His sacrifice blunted Kurita’s advance, protecting the carriers that would help secure Leyte Gulf—the largest naval battle in modern history.


Lessons Etched in Blood and Flame

Ernest E. Evans is the embodiment of sacrifice in a world that often worships ease.

Leadership under fire is not about comfort—it’s about chaos harnessed by courage.

He teaches veterans and civilians alike that honor isn’t a trophy, but a torch passed when all else burns away.

The shadows of Samar still whisper his name, and in those echoes lives a stark truth: Sometimes the bravest battle is to stand, unflinching, when everything screams to run.

He gave his life not for glory, but to uphold a covenant—to shield the weak, preserve his brothers, and prove that faith, even among war’s ruin, can be an unbreakable shield.


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

Ernest E. Evans didn’t just fight for country. He fought for every hand to hold safe in the darkness.

His legacy is carved in sacrifice, scorched into the sea, and sealed in the spirit of every warrior who dares to stand when the night tries to swallow all light.


Sources

1. Naval History and Heritage Command, “Ernest Edwin Evans, USS Johnston,” archives and official citations 2. Samuel Eliot Morison, History of United States Naval Operations in World War II, Volume 12: Leyte 3. Medal of Honor citation, Ernest E. Evans, United States Navy 4. Morison, Leyte, accounts of Battle off Samar and Taffy 3 eyewitness testimonies


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