Eloise and the officers maneuvered swiftly through the trenches. The pungent odor concocted with smoke and death invaded her nose. Blood and mud poured through the trenches. A bombardment of shelling sounded closer toward the front. Just as they had reached the bunker, the shelling had ceased momentarily. Eloise glanced at her two escorts; fear written along her pale face. What had she gotten herself into, she wondered, but dared not to utter?

The general appeared from inside the bunker, his face was a shade of white. His eyes were wide, Eloise knew it was due to the condition of his son. She looked at him for a moment before offering a kind, reassuring smile. He quickly jerked the hat from her head in a rage. Anger boiled in his eyes as he looked carefully at her. He slowly reached out and touched her cheek.

"You're a woman." He grumbled under his breath, increasing his pressure on her cheek. "They sent a woman to tend my son—" he paused, turning in a haste. "to tend my men! You are a woman who should not be here. Take her away and bring back a man!" The general called out angrily, throwing his hands into the air. "I tell them that my son has been seriously injured and this is what they send to fix him."

"There is no one left at the field hospital, sir. It will take days before we can get another male doctor." Alwin retorted strongly.

The general gave only a sharp glare back to the man. Eloise remained silent through it all. A look of displeasure appeared on the general's face as he began to pace steadily. She watched his hasty movements around the confined area.

"Why are you just standing there?" He asked crudely, approaching her. "You should be doing what you were sent here to do—" he paused pointing in the direction of the small shelter. "fix my son!"

Eloise hesitantly entered into the bunker. The little room shook violently, as cascading dirt crumbles around her. She looked around the dimly lit area until she saw the horror she was looking for. Her patient was laid on top of a long table. His legs were torn from his body, with only blood-soaked wrapping around the stumps. His body was pale, drained from most of its needed blood. As she approached the scene, she could see that death was looming over the youthful man. She was haunted by the sight of his eyes that were once a beautiful shade of blue had darkened and set firmly upward.

A small wooden stool was placed beside him. Eloise took her place there and placed her bag beside the man. She gently took his wrist into her hands, feeling the faint pulse that remained. His chest rose and fell slowly. Eloise knew that he would soon be dead. She stroked the young man's hair. With what little strength he had left, he turned his head to look upon her face. A slight smile came onto his face when Eloise whispered words of peace into his ear.

"Mother..." his voice strained, catching the attention of the other men nearby. His father came rushed back to his side and took him by the hand.

"Your mother is not here, boy." He answered back, shooting a grumpy glare at Eloise.

Eloise ignored the rude gesture and continued doing what she knew best—comforting. She stroked his hair once again. "It's alright son."

"I-I want to come home."

"I know," she whispered gently, closing her eyes. "I know."

The young man took one last breath before the life faded from his body. The general released his hand, shaking his head. Eloise could see the remorse on his face, but she knew that it would leave soon enough.

"I am sorry about your son." Eloise remarked apologetically.

He quickly forgot the comment and started for the entrance. "One can't mourn forever."

The coldness of his personality froze her. She could not understand how he could move on so quickly from the loss of his child. He was a careless man, who loved nothing but the spoils of war, just as many other high-ranked officials.

"Are you just going to leave your son here?"

The man stared at the body and shrugged. "What else am I to do with it?" he paused, staring at her blankly. "He's dead, isn't he? He will serve me no purpose out there. I only need live men, I have plenty of dead."

"Move him to a better place?" Eloise asked, resting her hand upon the youthful man's motionless chest.

"What better place? We are in a trench!?" The man let out a coarse laugh. "That is why war is a mother's pain. Women think only of the superficialities that come with war, which is death. Death is part of war. For some peculiar reason, women can't seem to grasp that." He pointed to the body. "I have lost a son, yes—but I have four more. The sacrifice of my youngest's life makes me drive harder to protect the lives of my other sons. His death gives me reason to hate the enemy and fight them so viciously."

Eloise closely followed the man out of the small wooden headquarters cube. "But he is still your son!" she exclaimed, halting as he abruptly stopped.

"I can place him in the pile with the other dead. He is like them now and none of them will ever help me in this fight. I will never understand why they sent a woman to do a man's job! I wish women would never have joined the war efforts to begin with, then this problem would never be." The general called out angrily as he spun around to face her. He aggressively took her by the wrist and jerked her back into the small cubicle area. "This is no place for a woman to be. Inside this bunker is as far from no man's land as I can get you. You are to stay right here until we can properly send you away. I have other places to be than here arguing with a woman."

Eloise eased down onto the squat stool and nodded. On the table in front of her was the body of the man's deceased son. His lifeless eyes stared blankly at her in the corner, leaving her feeling discomfort. She quickly turned her focus back onto the General in the entranceway.

The ringing of gunfire sounded violently in the wooden headquarters. She could hear the sounds of shrapnel falling on the top of the small cube. The room shook violently with every heavy blast of canon fire. Eloise could feel the earth quake beneath her feet. Two decorated officers blocked the doorway, discussing the plans of attack amongst themselves. She could feel the heat rising in the confined quarters, longing to escape the appalling location.

Space was scarce in the cramped bunker. She pulled the chair away from the table, yearning to be as far from the body as she could. His blackening eyes followed her to the corner where she sat in beside a stove in silence, listening to the distant fighting. Her hands rested folded against her lap as she counted the heavy pounding blasts of the cannons. She looked around the boarded-up dugout, viewing the many items that surrounded her. Metal cookware lined alongside her left with the table to her right. The objects from the table were placed around the plank floor. The lantern that hung above her gave light to the place where the sun couldn't reach. The only small window was hidden by a tattered black cloth, making it impossible for her to look out.

Her eyes wondered back onto the youthful man who laid before her. No matter where she placed her mind, he remained beside her. Her hands found their way onto the leather medical bag that hung at her side. Within the bag she had the power to help others in the way she failed the general's son. She knew she could not have saved his life, but there were others outside who could be aided. It was her duty as a field nurse to aid those injured by the horrors of war. Her mind began turning with ways to escape from the general's bunker to fulfill her only duty in life.

Eloise gracefully rose from the chair and began straightening the bulky pants she wore. She made the red cross patch on her arm entirely visible, showing what title she possessed. She retrieved her scrunched uniform cap and placed it atop her head, cramming the loose strands of hair beneath it just as it was before. Her eyes looked down at the manly, rugged appearance she had. With a deep breath she approached the intense men.

"May I please get a breath of outside air?" Eloise kindly asked the men. Their blank stares were intimidating as she waited patiently for their answer. With a sturdy nod, they stepped aside to clear a pathway for her.

As the men glanced back onto their maps, she bolted down the long, narrow path. She could hear the call of the men behind her as she came to a halt. At the end of the trench she turned to face another line of a trench system. The sounds of gunfire became louder as she hesitantly stepped over the line, entering into the rough life of the frontline soldiers. Arching her shoulders back confidently, she began walking beside the men. None paid mind to her, treating her just as another soldier. They were seemingly unaware of the fact that she was a woman, making the event seem easier for Eloise. The sloppy mud beneath her feet made the walk through the trench difficult. Each step she made was a challenge: step and pull, step and pull. It became the routine as she trudged with the other men. With every passing step, her boots sank into the sticky substance, pulling her inward into the ground.

"Doctor!" She heard a voice call out. Turning she saw a man holding his head. Blood covered his dirt-caked hand and trickled down onto the sleeve of his stained gray uniform. She approached him with caution and removed his hand from his face, exposing a gaping wound upon his face. The laceration began at the top of his head and ended near his chin.

Eloise nodded as she began to reach into her bag. "Lean against the wall." She instructed, finding her canteen of water.

Quickly, she poured the liquid onto his face, washing away the red liquid that lined his dirty face. From her satchel she pulled a white bandage and pressed it against his face. He winced in pain at her pressurized touch. As the grime fell away from his face, his eyes grew wide with amazement.

"You're a woman!" he called out, touching her face. He closed his eyes and caressed her cheek. "You are woman. Why are you here?"

She tied the white cloth around his head and offered him a smile. "I am here to help men like you." She quickly nodded at him before leaving his presence as if nothing unusual had happened. He continued to watch her, confused as to what he had saw for himself.

She had stopped beside three men who needed her help. She cleaned each of their minor wounds and bandaged them with the materials she had. Before she could go any further through the trench a loud commotion was taking place beside her. She watched as the man frantically pleaded with the cold general.

"That is my brother out there!" the frantic soldier cried out, pointing to a young man crawling toward the trench. The general remained expressionless.

"Perhaps your brother should have made better decisions on the battlefield and maybe he would not be out there dying."

Eloise stared in horror at the injured man covered in blood. He vigorously pulled himself inch by inch through the thick mud of No Man's Land. She could see the several wounds he has sustained, knowing that he would be dying soon from blood loss. She could only imagine the fear he had in his youthful heart. Her eyes found their way onto the distraught brother nearby, who paced around frantically.

"Please General, let me go and try to help him. It was my responsibility to get him back home to Mother." He said staring back out at the boy who was his brother. Fear filled his bright green eyes as he watched his brother's desperate attempt for survival. "I was the oldest of her sons and I have failed at saving them all."

"Poor woman had to bear sons like you. If I were her, I would be thankful for your sacrifices for the fatherland. You will have done more for her by dying."

Eloise could feel the anger boiling within her at the General's actions. She continued watching the man with sympathy, hoping that he would make it back to the trench so she could try and help him. The one thing she hated to see was the young gentleman to die before her eyes, while his brother slowly fell apart inside.

Reluctantly, she patted the used helmet on her head. The thought of the general's son drove her to make her decision. She knew what she was to do. Her hand reached for the back around her body, lightly tracing her fingers over the engraved B's. What would Bartram say to her plan, she wondered? She could not afford to think much, for she was running out of time to help the man. She studied the men who surrounded her in the trench, watching her every move.

"Help me to get up the ladder." She remarked to the nearby men. The nodded agreeably as they helped her inch to exit. "I am going to save that boy, if it costs me my life."

"I thought I told you to stay in the bunker." She heard the general's booming voice shout over the crowd. He pushed his was to her and in an instant, she felt his hand wrap around her wrist. "What do you think you are doing, Eloise?" The general questioned, pulling her back down by the arm. His cold stare looked intimidatingly into her spiraling soul.

"I am a nurse, sir." She stated plainly, patting the cloth bag that hung at her side. "It is my duty to save men's lives, no matter where they may be fallen. I will not sit in a bunker while there are men dying who I can help."

"You can't go out there." He disagreed, pushing her back away from the ladder. "You are sure to die if you go out there. We can't risk losing any more valuable nurses." He shook his head. "I can't tell you how many good medics we have lost because of their own ignorance of salvation. They believe wholeheartedly that they can save everyone that falls. Well, you can't! Some men must die in this war!"

"Not if I can try and help them." Eloise argued, pointing back up to the ladder. "I think I can make it to that man if I move quickly. If I can get to him, I do believe that I can save his life."

"Women should not even be down here, let alone on the battlefield." He retorted, his eyes looking around at the horrid conditions of the trench. "When these battles are over, I will get you back to the nurse's ward and I assure you that you will never be allowed past those doors. You will stay where women belong."

"You can do that," She paused, moving past the man. "After I do my duty here."

In a matter of seconds, she had scaled up the rickety wooden ladder despite the claims of disproval by the gentlemen below. Her heart began pounding violently as she began crawling on her elbows and knees toward the motionless soldier. The intensity around her frightened her greatly in ways she had never felt before. With each crawling motion she made, another heavy breath she released. The gruesome battlefield remained silent as she slowly approached him, looking at the mangled bodies of the dead that scattered the land around her. The smell of death was thick, clogging her nose with the putrid odor of smoke, blood, and fickle matter—smells she was all too familiar with.

Instant regret came to her mind as she looked at the bloodied bodies of young men barely old enough to fight. In the distance she could hear the wailing cries of men pleading for assistance that they knew wouldn't be coming. Desperately, she tried to block the painful cries out of her mind as she thought of what she was doing. She locked her eyes on the pleading boy before her, focusing on only him through her crawl of horror.

After what seemed like forever, she had finally made it within arm's length reach of him. It was then, bullets began singing around her body, feeling the light breeze of air that they made as they passed her. Immediately she quickly crawled behind the hollowed-out place where he laid motionless. She leaned against the mound of mud, placing her knees up to her chest.

"Sir," She spoke softly, pulling the medical bag open. "I am here to help you."

"Get me out of here." His voice pleaded as he looked up into the gray sky. She could only imagine what was soaring through his youthful mind.

She placed her hand lightly upon his shoulder, looking into the same green eyes his brother had. The green orbs were filled with complete fear as he laid there perfectly still.

"That is what I am here to do."

"You are a woman?" his faint voice questioned, glancing up at her. He looked at the manly uniform that covered her small frame entirely.

"Yes, sir." She replied calmly, pulling out the bandages. "You may address me as Eloise Keller."

A smile came onto his face. "That was my mother's name." he spoke happily, resting his hands over his bloodied body. "She was a beautiful woman, just like you."

"I am certain that you took your dashing looks from her." She said as she began tending the wounds she could. As she studied the injuries he had sustained, she realized there was nothing more she could do for the fellow other than bring him comfort as he died on a foreign field.

"What I would give if I could see he one last time," he paused as tears began to prick his frightened eyes. "and to hear her sweet voice sing Weißt du, wieviel Sternlein stehen (Do you know how many stars are standing) once again. I want to go home more than anything."

She could see his breathing began growing shallow, as he opened his mouth to sing the familiar words of his past. He closed his eyes tightly as the German words began flowed from his cracked lips.

"Do you know how many little stars are in blue heaven's tent?" he hoarsely sang the lullaby. "Do you know how many clouds trail All over the world?"

The German words became slurred and short-breathed, as Eloise took him by the trembling hand. With a peaceful voice, she began singing the rest of the familiar words into the young man's ear until he went completely still. She hung her head down when she realized he passed, knowing the pain his death would bring to his mother and brother. She remained sitting beside the dead boy, staring at his fine, youthful features coated with his own crimson blood.

"Eloise!" She heard her name shouted, bringing her back to the reality she was in. "They are throwing the gas!"

It took her several seconds to process what was said. She poked her head up from behind the mound of mud, catching a glimpse of a massive cloud of white approaching her from the distance. Immediately she reached for her mask, which was no longer in its proper place. Frantically, she moved toward the man beside her and began to search the body of the deceased for his most valuable tool—a gas mask.