Downton Abbey: All Is Fair In Love And War

Footman Of War

The Great War,
Dec. 1914

A few months of training didn't seem like enough, not nearly enough, yet here Thomas Barrow stood before the ocean upon a ship to take him to France and the battlefront. He had not thought he would find himself in the trenches with the rest, that had not been why he had signed up to join the army as a medic. He had hoped to be in a hospital and treat the aftermath but instead he would be there, at the front. He had only wished to ensure a future after the stealing incident at Downton and now he was risking not having one at all.

The French beaches edged closer and soon enough Thomas Barrow stood upon the shores. Then in the back of a truck, then before the barracks of those enjoying being away from the front. There he received his orders, his position — carrying dying men from the battlefield, carrying them on stretches. He would be a footman of war, fetching bodies for a higher rank than him. He was nothing but a doomed Corporal carrying doomed men to a doomed fate.

Not long after he was given his provisions and equipment Thomas was shuffled away to another truck and off he went to the trenches. He had never been more terrified in his whole life — not even his harsh father had scared him as badly as thought of the trenches did. Thomas' trembling hand took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it where he sat. The ride was bumpy, uncomfortable and quiet, at least on his part, for there were other soldiers who shared stories — who seemed to have been here for a lifetime already even if it only had been a few months of war. They must have been here, digging the trenches, at the start, Thomas thought.

Now in a dirty trench Thomas stood, it smelled of death, defecation and frightened soldiers. The Combat Medic Officer came walking up to Thomas who saluted him. He stood stiff like he had for years as a footman in his uniform. He listened, answered with 'yes sir' after each command and then he was dismissed.

"You're the new Corporal?" A man came up to Thomas who nodded in return, he bore the patch of a red cross on his arm, just like Thomas. The young man looked him up and down before placing a cigarette between his mouth, lit it up, blew smoke away and said "welcome to the inner circle of Dante's Inferno, I'm Private Albridge" before walking into a dug out shelter and motioned for Thomas to join him.

"Thomas? Thomas Barrow?" A familiar voice echoed from the trenches and Thomas stopped in his step to turn and face the man calling out his name. There came Matthew Crawley, Downton's heir, a solicitor — a face from a time that seemed further away than what it was.

"It's Corporal Barrow now, Mr Crawley" Thomas said but still saluted Matthew as he stood before him.

" Corporal Barrow" Matthew said, looking rather amused and Thomas pursed his lips in annoyance from the smile upon the heir's face. "It's Lieutenant Crawley now" Matthew retaliated but then gripped Thomas hand which shocked the former footman. "I am so happy to see a face from the pre-war times."

Thomas could not think of a single person in his life who had expressed happiness to see him, not even O'Brien really. It took the Corporal aback, especially since Matthew Crawley had not seemed to hold any care or thought about Thomas outside of him being a servant.

"Would you mind terribly sharing a cup of tea in the trenches and talks about happier times and the gardens of Downton?" Matthew asked which shocked Thomas further.

"I'm afraid the gardens were not much enjoyed by servants', sir" Thomas answered stiffly.

"Then I shall describe them for you, Corporal" Matthew said with a smile and turned around.

Thomas stood there bewildered for a moment and looked at Private Albridge, who had his eyebrow raised "Someone has friends in high places." he said grudgingly.

Thomas gave a small nod and a thought of Mr Bates came to his mind, more specifically his friendship with the Lordship, how they served a war together and due to that friendship Mr Bates stood in high regards and secure in his position as his Lordship's valet. Perhaps a friendship with the future Earl would give Thomas the same special treatment.

So Thomas followed Matthew Crawley to his dugout, a dugout clearly for the higher ranks for it resembled a shabby house with a door and not just a shredded piece of fabric. Even in wartime the higher ranks carried comfort that most soldiers would never know and it made Thomas' blood boil. The smell on the inside, however, was the same as the rest of the trench, which made the former footman slightly more cheerful. If he would be unable to escape this stench neither should the higher ranks.

"Have a seat, Corporal" Matthew offered as he placed a mess tin upon a tommy cooker — even in war the British could not be torn from their tea.

"What would His Lordship say, a footman sharing tea with his heir?" Thomas said where he sat upon a wobbly chair and Matthew placing two tin mugs upon the wooden table in front of him.

"Lord Grantham knows better than any that in war we are all equal" Matthew said and sat down opposite of Thomas "I think Mr Carson would be the one having a heart attack" The Lieutenant smiled at the Corporal and dug around in his military bag, searching for the tea.

"But we are not equals, Lieutenant Crawley, not even in war" Thomas stated boldly with his eyes darting around the dugout "I might have just arrived but this dugout is not like the other ones I walked past, ranks is just another type of class separation."

"You speak with such audaciousness" Matthew said with surprised eyes, feeling taken aback with the lack of respect from the former footman — a footman he had known to have quite the tone and snobbish expression, but never so openly rude.

"If you claim us equal, should my mind not be allowed to be spoken boldly, Lieutenant?" Thomas' daring words pierced Matthew but it seemed to soften his mind.

"You are right Corporal, you absolutely are correct." Matthew was sincere in his words for every soldier held value in war, every life was of matter to Matthew and Thomas was not wrong — if he was equal to him then he should be allowed to express himself openly. "But I fear in life everyone needs a leader to rally to, just like in life outside of war, a leader to respect."

"Respect is earned, not freely given to any one — leader or not." Thomas replied quickly and took his cup of tea.

"Have you done much to earn respect, Corporal Barrow?" Matthew asked the man who used to hold a silver platter for him.

"No, Lieutenant Crawley" Thomas said honestly "Nor has anyone else tried to earn mine."

"You have earned my respect" Matthew said with a smile and blew on the tea.

Thomas watched Matthew's lips puff out air over the cup and how they formed a perfect 'o'. Then his grey eyes darted up to those blue eyes that resembled a summer sky. "Serving you dinner is hardly enough to earn the respect of a future Lordship"

"Serving in the army is enough to earn the respect of any man" Matthew offered Thomas a smile "And I hope I can earn your respect as well, Corporal"

Thomas was a little sceptical, of course, but he returned Matthew's smile with a small but genuine one. "I was promised talks about those gardens, Matthew." Thomas said with cheek in his voice.

Matthew couldn't help but laugh as he swallowed his tea "That you were, Thomas, that you were"

So began a friendship between a footman turned Corporal and a future Lordship turned Lieutenant formed in the trenches of the Great War. They spent many nights speaking of Manchester, though Thomas did not mention much of his family, and Matthew didn't pry. They talked about cricket and the view of the Manchester Canals and spring in the parks. How funny it was that they were sitting in France now, two men from Manchester, and when the Osborne Swimming Club of Manchester represented Great Britain in water polo — winning gold.. It was an unforeseen friendship that they both came to hold very dear to their hearts — as more began blooming underneath the surface that was even more unforeseen.