Written for the Topsy-turvy (Alternate Universe) challenge at TolkienWeekly.
"What was he doin' way out here?"
The corporal picked up a lantern; behind cracked glass, light flickered for a moment then faded. "Signals officer. Stranded when the 11th pulled back. Look for his tags or some papers."
The private held up a small notebook. "Lieutenant To...Tolkine? Sounds like a Hun."
"Let me see that." An eight-pointed star was drawn below the owner's name. Like the compass rose on a map, the corporal thought. A raindrop hit the paper and ran in a trail of ink. He carefully tucked the notebook in the breast of his tunic. "Get his feet."