Ernest E. Evans, Medal of Honor Hero at the Battle of Samar

Nov 12 , 2025

Ernest E. Evans, Medal of Honor Hero at the Battle of Samar

His ship smoked like a hornet’s nest, every gun blazing against a sea of enemies. Captain Ernest E. Evans stood on deck, blood on his hands, voice hoarse but unyielding. The USS Samuel B. Roberts was a destroyer escort—small, lightly armed, way out of its league. Yet, there he was—facing down a Japanese fleet five times its size, refusing to break, refusing to flee.

The Boy from Iowa with Fire in His Bones

Ernest Edwin Evans wasn’t born for easy roads. Raised in Iowa, he grew strong on Midwestern grit and steady faith. A quiet boy, he carried the weight of responsibility early, driven by a belief in something higher than himself. A man anchored by scripture and honor, Evans carried this verse close:

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” — Joshua 1:9

He joined the Navy to defend a world on fire. That boy from Iowa became a man shaped in the crucible of war. Everything he’d learned—discipline, sacrifice, prayer—would burn bright under the hellish skies of the Pacific.

The Battle That Defined Him: Samar, 25 October 1944

By late October 1944, Evans was captain of the Samuel B. Roberts (DE-413), part of a small force known as “Taffy 3” escorting escort carriers near Leyte Gulf. What came next was hell turned to steel. The Japanese Center Force, with battleships and cruisers, smashed into Taffy 3.

Outgunned, outmatched, Evans made a choice. Fight. Not run. Not hide. Fight.

The Roberts roared forward headlong into the enemy. The destroyer escort, little more than a guardian, became a demon. She launched torpedoes into Yamato, the mightiest battleship ever built.

Evans commanded from the bridge amid bursting shells and screaming men. With every salvo, he drew heavy fire onto his ship to protect the vulnerable carriers. He accepted the deadly bargain—every minute he delayed the enemy saved lives, but cost him dearly.

The Samuel B. Roberts took hits that crippled her, but Evans never yielded. Legend says he smashed a phone in frustration mid-battle because it clogged his line of sight—no distractions allowed. When the ship’s bridge was shredded, he refused to abandon it. The day cost him everything.

Evans died the next day, a broken hero under the Pacific sun, his courage exacting a toll that ensured the Japanese fleet faltered and retreated.

Recognition Carved in Steel and Blood

The Navy awarded Captain Evans the Medal of Honor posthumously. His citation reads like the testimony of a soldier’s soul poured out in battle:

“Despite overwhelming odds, Captain Evans... aggressively maneuvered his ship in close to the enemy and launched torpedo attacks that damaged a battleship. His courageous leadership and indomitable fighting spirit enabled the task unit to escape destruction...his actions reflected great credit upon himself and the United States Navy.”

Fellow sailors remember him as a man who led from the front, bore scars with silent pride, and never left a man behind. Vice Admiral Clifton Sprague called him “the bravest man I ever knew.” His story lives in ships, in memoirs, and in every veteran who stands fast against impossible odds.

Legacy Carried in Silence and Valor

Ernest Evans’s fight is a lesson wrapped in blood and fire: true courage is not the absence of fear, but bearing the unbearable for something greater. His sacrifice saved scores of lives that day at Samar and turned the tide of a brutal war in the Pacific.

To veterans, Evans’s life whispers, “Hold fast. Your scars are a testament, not a weakness.” To civilians, it shouts the cost of freedom—grim, real, and paid by flesh and bone.

Through every shattered hull and desperate dawn, his story challenges us to stand firm with honor, faith, and love for our brothers in arms.

“Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.” — John 15:13

The sea still remembers Captain Ernest E. Evans. Battles fade, but men like him—they are forever carved into the story of valor and sacrifice. When the night comes, and the guns fall silent, his legacy speaks loudest: courage never dies.