Emma, an American girl, has promised to help Rolf, a German POW, work on his English. The two discover more than an English lesson beneath the starry Wisconsin sky. 

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(The middle of the night. The kitchen is dark, but just "outside" the door under the moonlight, we see two overturned wooden crates. Emma, dressed in slippers and a nightgown with a jacket over it for warmth and carrying a book, enters quietly and cautiously while Rolf, dressed in his work clothes, enters equally cautiously from the opposite direction. They meet in the middle and sit on the crates.)

EMMA: Did you bring it?

ROLF: What?

EMMA: The poetry you were working on. I have a dictionary to help you with your English.

ROLF: I brought it in my head. You are sure no one sees you tonight?

EMMA: They're asleep. I checked on my way out.

ROLF: You are very brave to help with my English.

EMMA: Me? You're the one who has to live with Gunther.

ROLF: Don't worry about him. I take care of Gunther. Enough of that. It is time for lesson.

EMMA: OK. But I'd like to hear the poem you brought in your head.

ROLF: But it is in German.

EMMA: That's alright. We'll work on the translation after I hear it. Poetry speaks the same language when it reaches the soul.

ROLF: Der Mond oben leuchtet die Dunkelheit in meinem Herzen. Die Sterne Fuhren mich zu der mutigen Seele, die mich schützt vor Schaden. (The moon above illuminates the darkness in my heart. The stars guide me to the brave soul who protects me from harm.)

EMMA: That's beautiful.

ROLF: You understand it?

EMMA: Well, not all of it, but I understood "moon" and "stars" and "heart."

ROLF: Very good.

EMMA: Do you know the stars? I had to do a book report about astronomy once, and I learned all about Maria Kirch, who calculated the position of the planets and the stars.

ROLF: Kirch? I do not know.

EMMA: But she was German. She and her husband spent long nights together outside, just like this, staring at the heavens.

ROLF: Did they touch? Like this.

(Rolf takes her hand.)

EMMA: They must have. They were in love.

(They kiss briefly, then break away.)

ROLF: I hope I was not too forward. Please forgive me.

EMMA: I forgive you. It was nice.

(Rolf takes a small good luck charm from his pocket.)

ROLF: I want you to have this to remember me. It is not much, but it is only thing I have from my home. My mother give to me when I leave for war. I want you to have it.

EMMA: I can't keep something that your mother gave you. It must be for good luck. I wouldn't want anything bad to happen to you.

ROLF: As long as you keep this for me, nothing bad is to happen.