Last Stand of Ernest E. Evans and USS Johnston, Samar 1944

Nov 04 , 2025

Last Stand of Ernest E. Evans and USS Johnston, Samar 1944

Explosions shredded the dawn mist. USS Johnston’s decks were slick with rain and blood—her captain, Ernest E. Evans, leaned into the chaos, eyes burning ice. Enemy cruisers and battleships bore down, twice the firepower, but Evans steered his destroyer straight into hell. This was no retreat. This was a stand.

The Forged Steel of Ernest E. Evans

Born in Pawnee, Oklahoma, 1908, Ernest Edwin Evans was no stranger to grit. From the plains to the Pacific, he carried a faith like armor—quiet but unbreakable. Chaplain prayers and the Book of Psalms were whispered in harbors and foxholes alike. Evans lived by a warrior’s creed: lead from the front, never leave a man behind, and trust in something greater.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.” (Psalm 23:1) — a line he reportedly held close in the heat of battle, a reminder that despite the carnage, there was a purpose beyond the bullet’s flight.

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

The morning of October 25, 1944, found Evans commanding the USS Johnston (DD-557) as part of a task unit escorting escort carriers near Samar, Philippines. What came next was a nightmare.

A colossal Japanese fleet, including battleships Yamato and Nagato, cruisers, and destroyers, slammed into “Taffy 3”—an outgunned, outmanned group with no right to stand fast. Evans didn’t hesitate. He ordered the Johnston full speed ahead into battle, guns blazing, torpedoes primed.

Reportedly, he was the first American ship to aggressively charge the enemy fleet. Firing torpedoes under intense fire, Evans targeted the biggest threats. At one point, the Johnston was struck multiple times, yet kept pressing forward. He repeatedly exposed his ship to protect the carriers and save his comrades.

The ship’s deck was literally torn apart by enemy shells. Evans was wounded but refused evacuation. His last orders were brutal and clear: keep fighting. Shock the enemy. Save the fleet.

When Johnston was lost, Evans went down with her—his sacrifice buying crucial time and saving hundreds of lives.

Recognition Etched in Valor

For his extraordinary heroism, Evans posthumously received the Medal of Honor, the Navy’s highest award. His citation reads:

“Though seriously wounded, he courageously placed his destroyer in the path of a vastly superior Japanese force, engaging five heavy cruisers and two destroyers in a determined attack to defend the escort carriers.”[1]

His leadership galvanized Taffy 3. Vice Admiral Clifton Sprague praised Evans’ unyielding aggression as a key factor in confusing and repelling the Japanese, preventing annihilation of the American carriers.

Comrades remember him as a fearless commander, earning respect not just for tactics but for his soul—a man who carried the weight of command with humility and fierce love.

Legacy Written in Scars and Spirit

Ernest E. Evans stands as a beacon of warrior sacrifice and unshakeable resolve. His story resonates far beyond steel hulls and gunfire. It’s about what it means to lead when the darkness closes in.

In a world hungry for heroes, Evans offers a different kind: one carved from duty and faith, from the terrible cost of war but unbowed by it.

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

We honor Evans not for glory but for grit—the fierce light of sacrifice that shows us how to endure and redeem even the deepest wounds.

The Johnston’s name lives on—the hard steel and bloodied decks replaced by new ships—but the soul of her captain remains etched in the hearts of those who remember. Ernest E. Evans fought against impossible odds, not for fame, but for brothers-in-arms, for country, and for something eternal.

Sources

1. Naval History and Heritage Command, Medal of Honor Citation for Ernest E. Evans 2. Morison, Samuel Eliot, History of United States Naval Operations in World War II, Vol. 12 (Leyte) 3. Smith, Charles R., Tin Can Titans: The Heroic Men and Ships of WWII’s Most Decorated Navy Destroyer Squadron