Baummer needed a plan, and he needed it fast. He chose 5 soldiers to accompony him to rescue Haus in No Mans Land. It would be simple, the cover of darkness, each man making sure to keep quiet. They would bring back the stranded comrade in a matter of minutes.

At the dead of midnight, they slipped under friendly wire, and crawled, rolling into every hole, making sure not to alert attention. They reached a semi deep hole, where Haus was in, he hadn't been shouting, and Baummer nudged him to wake him up. Haus awoke, obviously terrified, and almost shout out until Baummer put his hand on his mouth.

"Are you ok?" Baummer wispered.

"Nothing major, fragment wounds, stray bullet hit my arm" Haus replied.

Baummer gave him a pat on the soldier, and handed him a luger. He quickly, and silently, ordered the party to return to lines. However, an artillery shell landed behind them, throwing one of the crew into the air. Both trenches started to fire. Hell broke loose, and the rescue party was in the middle. They needed to get back home, in friendly lines, before the lucky shell landed on them. They started to crawl, quickly, under rifle fire. The crack of bullets rang over their heads.

They managed to reach their lines, and Haus was quickly sent to the aid station, and fighting died down. Baummer had done it, he got back the kid.

Now he had returned to trench life.

"Maybe crawling under a hail of bullets wasn't that bad. At least it wasn't boring." Baummer told one of the search party members.

It was common trench humor, not understood back in Germany, but known amongst comrade in arms.