Since finally finishing The Betrayal I thought I'd do something a bit more lighthearted. This started out as something for Thru the Years but then I thought of one of the many flashbacks I didn't use in Downton Remembered. I might start posting more of those flashbacks. Hope you enjoy this!

1897

For eight year old Tom one of the perks of summer was the weeks spent on his grandfather's farm. Sure there would be plenty of chores to do but there would also be great rewards. His belly would be full of vine ripened tomatoes, freshly picked peas and runner beans, roasted or pan fried trout and salmon plucked that morning from the nearby streams and strawberries so sweet one didn't need cream. Some nights he'd sleep outside with the moon and the stars as his blanket. But best of all was swimming in the pond.

It was a fine summer day brimming with warmth from a sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky. Tom used his shirt sleeve to wipe away beads of sweat that dampened his forehead and the back of his neck as he looked across the field to the pond where the water glittered invitingly.

"Those beans don't just drop into ye bucket" his grandfather gently chided.

Tom took one last long look at the pond and sighed then, heeding his grandfather's words, starting picking.

It was an hour later when the Branson boys, their chores completed for the afternoon, dashed down to the pond. Quickly stripping off all their clothes each of them plunged into the dark water. After hours of working in the sun the cool water felt refreshing on their naked bodies.

Soon the boys' squeals of delight and peals of laughter filled the air as the three Branson brothers happily splashed and paddled around in the pond. Liam dived under the water to avoid being tagged while Tom paddled away as fast as he could from the outstretched hands of Brian. Feeling that Brian was getting too close, Tom turned and splashed water directly at his face hoping the diversion would allow Tom to escape his clutches. When they finally tired of playing tag, Tom lay on his back floating in the calm water. He closed his eyes, letting his body drift, thinking this was about as close to heaven on earth as he could imagine.

1915

Tom stepped out of his cottage and looked up at the sky. With the sun shining brightly in a cloudless sky the air was still and thick. Although it was late summer, the past week had been unusually warm and he had spent most of that time in the garage with his sweat dampened shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and beads of sweat on his forehead as he worked on a particularly stubborn problem with a gear shift. But as he looked up at the sky he thought his plans for his precious afternoon off was the perfect antidote to the relentless heat and sun.

Although the pond wasn't that far from the house, it was nestled deep in the woods on the back side of the house, well away from any footpath and therefore quite private. It was quite by chance that he had found the pond when walking through the woods he had noticed something glistening off to his left. Winding his way among the trees he found the glistening was sunlight reflecting off the water of a fat teardrop shaped pond.

Since then he had come here several times to sit, sometimes on a log with his bare feet dangling in the water, and eat his lunch or read a book. Whether it was spring or summer or even fall, it was a blissful place to sit on a warm day. Today he had a lunch in his basket but instead of a book he had a towel and an extra set of drawers. He smiled thinking that there had been one good thing to come out of this war … drawers. Men now had the option of wearing cotton knee length drawers paired with a sleeveless top instead of the uncomfortable, and usually itchy and scratchy union suit.

After shedding his clothes down to his drawers, he had thought to take those off too but what if … he looked at the quiet woods all around him … he doubted anyone would come by but … He waded into the pond where the cool water felt refreshing. A few powerful strokes and he was in the middle of the pond. Treading water he looked around him noticing that, unlike the way he had come from where there was a sliver of grassland between the woods and the water, behind him and to his left the woods came right to the water's edge and even a few tree branches hung over the water. It felt good to stretch out his legs and arms and soon Tom was swimming first to one side and then the other. At points he would dive under and try to touch the bottom of the pond just to gage how deep the water was. There was something about being in the water, diving under and pushing off from the bottom, racing from one end to the other, that gave him a sense of freedom not found on shore.

Finally tiring, he laid back and just floated. Closing his eyes his mind wandered back to those wonderful summer days frolicking in the pond on his grandfather's farm. You're it Tommy. No fair splashing me like that Liam. Tommy I'll race you to the shore. I can stay underwater longer than you Tommy. Tommy … Tommy … Tom … Tom …

Tom opened his eyes. TOM!

It wasn't his imagination, someone was calling his name.

SHE was standing on that sliver of grass mingled with mud, waving her arms.

He waved back and quickly swam towards her stopping a few yards from shore and stood where the water was just above his waist.

"I didn't want to disturb you since you looked so peaceful out there but" she said as she pointed out to the pond "you almost floated into that big log."

Tom turned and saw the errant log that was drifting in the water. He nodded his head and said "thanks."

This time when he looked at her he noticed she was staring at him with her mouth open in a perfect O and her eyes widened. "Is there another" he began as he turned "log coming after me?" But he saw nothing near him.

"Well … I … I …" Sybil stammered. She knew she shouldn't keep looking but she found she was unable to turn away from the sight of Tom standing in the water, his chest dotted with beads of water glimmering in the sunshine, those powerful arms, his hair …

There was a sudden snapping sound in the woods and a deer darted out never breaking his stride as he loped off back into the woods. It was enough however to break Sybil's trance. She lowered her head "I better be going" she said before walking quickly into the woods.

"I have lunch, there's plenty to share" he called out as he watched in puzzlement as Sybil scampered away. He took a step forward before realizing the cause of Sybil's sudden discomfort and he felt a pang of embarrassment. Then, running his hand across his naked chest, he chuckled.

A/N: The army in WWI really did change men's underwear. I'm not really sure if it was done by 1915 but we'll just go with it.