Then, quite suddenly, you awoke to the crack of artillery fire. Looking around the soggy, musty, dimly lit trench you notice two of your classmates looking very confused. Through the smoke you notice that one is dressed as an army captain, while the other wears the uniform of a nurse. You appear to be wearing the nubby tweed jacket of a war correspondent.
Wounded soldiers moan from the bunks and stretchers stacked against the wall.
The three of you do what you can to help the injured. As you walk through the maze of stretchers you recognize the figure of one of the poets you had been studying in class. On the blanket beside him is a well worn journal. With his last breath, he begs you to send it to his family. You vow to carry out his last wishes, even as you move towards those you might be able to aid.