Ernest E. Evans, Medal of Honor Recipient in the Battle off Samar

Feb 21 , 2026

Ernest E. Evans, Medal of Honor Recipient in the Battle off Samar

Ernest E. Evans stood on the bridge of USS Samuel B. Roberts, eyes fixed on the horizon as enemy steel darkened the waters. There was no time to weigh odds. Enemy battleships and cruisers, towers of destruction, bore down on his little destroyer escort—the David facing Goliath. With every fiber of his being, he held the line. The roar of cannons and screech of turning shells painted the sea red. This was his reckoning.

Roots in the Heartland

Born in Nevada, Missouri, Evans carried the fire of a Midwestern upbringing—the grit of open skies and honest labor. He joined the Navy in 1929, choosing the sea as his battlefield. It was not only duty but a steadfast moral compass that guided him. A man of deep faith, Evans drew strength from scripture and the quiet confidence that his sacrifices served a greater good.

_“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”_ — Joshua 1:9

Raised in a world shadowed by economic hardship and global unrest, Evans’ code was clear: protect those who cannot protect themselves. His leadership was born from years of disciplined service and hard-earned respect from his men.

The Battle That Defined Him

October 25, 1944. The waters off Samar Island, Philippines. Task Unit 77.4.3—later known as Taffy 3—was a band of escort carriers and destroyers, lightly armed and outgunned. Their mission: provide air support for the larger Leyte Gulf invasion.

Then came the nightmare.

Japanese Center Force under Admiral Kurita—battleships, heavy cruisers, and destroyers—closed in like a steel tide. The enemy force boasted ships like the mighty Yamato, a floating fortress with guns that could obliterate ships from miles away. The Samuel B. Roberts was a twenty-odd year old destroyer escort, half the firepower and speed of the craft bearing down.

Evans made a choice that morning that defied logic and history. Instead of retreat, he charged. He ordered full speed ahead, guns blazing, closing the distance to disrupt the enemy formation.

13 enemy warships. At least two with shotgun range. The Roberts turned into a bullet magnet.

The little ship launched torpedoes and fired its 5-inch guns until its barrels heated red. Evans screamed orders above the chaos, directing every shot out of sheer will. The Roberts took hits but kept coming.

His actions are credited with sinking the heavy cruiser Chōkai and damaging multiple others, buying precious time for carriers and transports to escape.[1]

But fate was brutal. A Japanese shell struck Evans’ command post. He was mortally wounded—blown into the frigid sea after giving the order to abandon ship.

His hands pushed him toward the abyss, but his spirit stood.

The Medal of Honor

The Navy recognized Evans’ valor with its highest honor. His Medal of Honor citation speaks plain truth:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty… his aggressive spirit and valiant combat leadership contributed decisively to the defeat of a superior Japanese force.”

His men remembered him as a leader who fought like a lion and inspired them to do the impossible.

Commander Walter L. J. Bayly Jr., captain of USS Hoel in the same battle, remarked:

“Ernest Evans was the bravest man I ever served with… He gave all he had to save his ship and his comrades.”

The battle off Samar has since been studied as a legendary example of courage against impossible odds—a testament to the power of individual will shaping history.

Legacy of Sacrifice and Purpose

Evans’ story is more than military history. It is a raw lesson in sacrifice and faith under fire. He stood as a shield when shields were rare—a man willing to trade his life to preserve freedom’s fragile flame.

Scars run deeper than wounds. His legacy—etched in the steel of wreckage and the memory of survivors—reminds every soldier that courage demands everything and that sometimes, the most heroic act is to stand and fight against the tide.

His name lives on in the Navy—a guided missile destroyer, USS Ernest E. Evans (DD-931), carries his spirit through new seas, a symbol of duty beyond measure.

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

The Battle off Samar was a crucible. Ernest E. Evans was its blazing heart. He gave a bloody page to the story of American valor—not for glory, but because freedom’s price is paid in courage, sacrifice, and unyielding faith.

May his example echo in the hearts of warriors and civilians alike: stand firm, fight fiercely, and never forget the cost of liberty.