OK, here it is. Don't know if you'll like it, but I had fun writing it. Sources were Ryrie NIV Bible and various web searches on the John W. Brown Liberty Ship.
Jerusalem BC 605
King Zedekiah paced the floors of his throne room. His robes were unkempt and his brow furrowed. He hadn’t slept in days. Jerusalem was under attack by the Babylonians. King Nebuchudnezzar’s entire army had marched against the city more than a year ago and had placed encampments and siege works all around its walls. His people were cut off from their water supply and were starving. Babylonian soldiers went from house to house stealing food and anything else they deemed necessary to their personal comfort. They killed the old men and rounded up the young ones. They were taken prisoner and used as slaves in Babylon. The women were left to fend for themselves. Zedekiah’s own army had fled leaving them completely defenseless. His sons had even been taken captive and killed, and he had not even been able to mourn for them.
Early in the morning even before the sun arose, servants scurried around the palace collecting items to be taken for an escape. King Zedekiah would stay but he planned for his nephew Jonathan and several others members of his family to escape through the port of Tyre and sail away from the siege under the cover of darkness. He didn’t want Jonathan to be carried off as a captive of the Babylonians. At that moment his nephew came into the throne room and bowed before his uncle. “Uncle everything is in readiness.” “Good, you must be off now,” said the King, “have you everything you need? Food, water, items to be used for barter when you reach your destination?” Jonathan relied, “Yes uncle all has been taken care of. The items for exchange have been gathered. The goblet to be delivered has been disguised and hidden to avoid detection if we are caught. Uncle when will I see you again?” The King knew better, but he did not want to delay the boy. “Soon nephew, very soon, now be off. You will follow the north road to the port town of Tyre. There I have arranged a ship for your escape.” Jonathan nodded and turned to leave when Zedekiah spoke in a voice filled with fear. “Nephew you must take care not to be caught,” he began, “That goblet must be safely put in the hands of your mother. She’s waiting for you in Athens.”
The journey was made to Tyre without incident. The provisions were loaded onto the ship quickly and set sail. The trip was to take a week, however on the third day the sea became choppy. It seemed a storm was approaching and the captain of the ship ordered everyone below decks. He stared in amazement at the brewing storm. This thing was unlike anything he had ever seen. Water in a funnel shape twisted and danced erratically across the horizon. It appeared to draw closer to the ship with each passing minute. He commanded his helmsman to turn the ship from its wake, but it was too late. The ship was tossed about the Mediterranean Sea like a dog would shake a rat. The funnel grabbed a hold of the ship and shook it with all of its might. This went on for and hour before it dropped the ship and moved on to its next prey. Miraculously the ship did not sink, but the damage was so extensive that she would not be able to do anything but drift. Her mast was broken in two, everything on deck was lost regardless if it was nailed down or not. None of the crew or passengers survived save one. The King’s nephew barely alive crawled from underneath his cousin who had been tossed about like a rag doll. She stared at him with lifeless eyes. He was hardly alive himself. He managed to drag himself to the upper deck to see where he was. The ship listed about 15 degrees to port and was drifting west it appeared. The ship nor Jonathan nor the cargo he was entrusted with would ever make it to Athens. He drifted for 2 months in and out of consciousness. The ship entered the mouth of a large river and ran aground. His food had run out the week before and he was about out of water. Death was just around the corner.
Back in Jerusalem King Zedekiah’s palace was stormed by Babylonian soldiers led by King Nebuchadnezzar himself. The walls of Jerusalem had fallen, the Temple was burned, and most everyone who wasn’t dead was taken captive to Babylon. Zedekiah was captured and taken to the center of Jerusalem where his eyes were ceremoniously put out. He was left to die while Nebuchadnezzar and his soldiers pulled out of the city. Two days later King Zedekiah died.
The Kings nephew, entrusted with a priceless treasure, was near death. The last thing he saw was a pair of black eyes staring at him.
Atlantic Ocean, August 1945
The John W. Brown swayed gently as her crew scurried around the ship getting her prepared for sailing. Loaded with Marshall Plan cargoes the EC2-S-C1 Class Liberty Ship was getting ready to set sail from the Bethlehem-Fairfield Shipyard in Baltimore bound for Europe to deliver aid for post-war building. The war in Europe was over, but she was still needed. The captain and crew were ordered back to Baltimore for needed repairs and to be loaded with the cargo. In addition to the regular cargo, the Brown was to carry a valuable artifact found in an old mine in the desert of Arizona to England bound for the British Museum for research and dating.
With a length of 447 feet, the Brown had a beam of 57 feet. Her three cylinder, triple expansion marine steam engine was fed by two oil burning boilers. The engine could produce 2,500 horse power allowing her to get up to speeds of 11 knots. Five holds could carry over 9,000 tons of cargo, plus airplanes, tanks and automotives could be strapped to the deck. One of 2700 Liberty Ships built as part of the emergency shipbuilding program for the war in Europe the Brown was completed in 56 days. The Liberty ships were designed for quick and easy construction and were used to carry troops, arms and supplies to areas needed. She was armed with three 3-inch 50 caliber guns, one 5-inch 51 caliber gun and eight 20mm guns. The Brown made 12 previous voyages during the war. Those voyages took her to the Persian Gulf, the Mediterranean Sea, and Northern Europe. The Brown was at Anzio beachhead and was part of the invasion force at Operation Dragoon, the invasion of Southern France in August 1944. She was awarded the merchant marine Victory Metal, the Combat Bar, and war zone metals for the Atlantic, the Mediterranean/Middle East, and the Pacific theatres.
Early on the morning of the 25 of August 1945, the 44 man merchant crew set sail for Europe. Captain Edward J. Stowell barked commands from the bridge. Captain Stowell had been at sea for more than 35 years. He started as a cabin boy on a steamship in Boston and eventually joined the military at age 18. Now at age 50 his face was tanned and leathery from many hours in the sun. He was fair looking, black hair, graying at the temples, large brown eyes and stood a respectable 6’2”. Never married, Stowell always viewed himself to be married to the sea. He took command of the Brown in September 1942. He loved the Brown and loved the fact that she had seen so much action during the war. His cunning and superb commanding skills earned the ship and her crew the numerous metals and bars. He stared ahead as the helmsmen took the Brown into open sea. He picked up the bridge phone and waited for an answer. “Engine room”, a man with a thick Irish brogue answered. “What can I do for you captain?” “Lt. Fitzgerald, I want to try something once we reach open waters, I will keep you posted” said Stowell with a sly smile. His first mate looked at him with a strange face, but continued his work. “Aye Captain, I’m here if ya need me.” Stowell figured that now the war was over and he was merely a supply ship, he could do with her as he pleased.
The hours passed on, Stowell retired to his cabin for the night. The drone of the engines lulled him into a deep sleep. The turkey dinner the ships cook had prepared was wonderful even for the military. He took and after dinner drink of 20 year old port and promptly drifted off to sleep. At 2 am he woke with a start. The engines had stopped. He sat up and listened intently. He heard loud voices yelling commands to the crew. “What the devil?” He quickly dressed and made his way down the corridor. He had almost made it the bridge when all of a sudden he felt a searing pain in the back of his head, then blackness.
While sneaking a nip of a good single malt scotch, Lt. Fitzgerald was taken by surprise when two men with guns he’d never seen the likes of stormed into the engine room. One of them held a gun to him and said, “Stop engines, now!” Fitzgerald just stared at him in disbelief. “I can’t stop the engines without orders from the bridge!” “Consider this your order” the gunman spat as he shot off Fitzgerald’s big toe on his left foot. He cried out in pain and tried to swing at the men only to be pushed down to the floor. He continued to writhe in pain for several minutes while the two men set about to shut the engines down themselves. They worked quickly and when they had accomplished the task one of the men spoke into a radio. “Sir the engines are shut down and we should come to a complete stopped shortly.” “Very good, now you and Olaf come up on deck and secure all the prisoners.” They turned to Fitzgerald, grabbing him on each side they half drug, half carried him up to the deck. Most of the crew were tied up or knocked on conscience. Captain Stowell was lying on the deck bleeding from the back of head. A tall man with blonde hair, blue eyes and bulbous red nose wearing a long black leather coat and carrying a Schmeisser, a German sub-machine gun, walked up and down the deck to make sure the crew was subdued. Hans Kohl was a German mercenary. He was paid handsomely to overtake the Brown and commandeer the cargo. One item was of particular value to his employer, an ancient goblet with an inscription that would lead untold treasure somewhere in the Arizona desert where it was originally found. Kohl was promised the other half of his payment in ice, blue ice it was called when they found it. Blue cobalt diamonds, or blue ice was worth ten times more than regular diamond. However, it was Kohl’s idea to find the goblet and use it himself. He would tell the man who hired him that it was not on board and that he had failed.
“We’ll get the ship turned around and head south,” he told one of his men, “and do it quickly, the navy will wonder why they can’t contact their ship.” Kohl’s crew began the task of taking over the operation of the ship and began to turn starboard and head south towards the Keys and eventually into the Gulf of Mexico. “What’ll we do with the crew of the ship sir?” asked Olaf. “Tie them up, and when we reach our destination, we will leave them.”
The John W. Brown sailed into the sunset. Two weeks later she was witnessed entering the Gulf of Mexico. However, history can only tell what happened to the crew or the men who took it over. She was found floating unmanned up the Rio Grande in November 1945. Everything was left as it was, the table was set for dinner and the office was ready for use. Wetsuits hung on pegs and tanks were full waiting for divers to put them on and dive. The Brown had turned into a ghost ship.