a/n: I do not own the characters of Downton Abbey, this is purely for fun. Matthew and Thomas are my favourite paring that not many write about. Some events will be slightly altered, some timelines as well, but I try to keep most events there - even if they are cheekily redone. I am also not a WW1 expert (more of a WW2 studier) so I apologise if some things are a bit out of touch and not 100% historically correct, it's all in good fun. English is not my first language but I do try my hardest with grammar and words, I hope you will excuse any mistakes. Thanks for listening, now enjoy!
The Great War
A few months of training seemed not 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 wounds but he was to treat what he could of limbs blown off and burns from battle. He had only wished to ensure a future after the stealing incident at Downton and now he was now risking not having one at all at the front.
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, and he knew what this meant — he would carry stretchers from the battle ground, he would treat wounds at the front — A footman of war, fetching bodies for a higher rank than him. He was nothing but a Corporal carrying doomed men to a doomed fate.
Not longer after he was given his provisions and equipment. Thomas was shuffled away to another truck and off he went to the trenches, and he hadn't been so terrified in his whole life — not even his harsh father had scared him as badly as 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.
Now in a dirty trench Thomas stood, it smelled of death, defecation and frightened soldiers. The 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 shoulder, 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" before walking into a dug out shelter and motioned for him to join.
"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, sir" 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 post-war times."
Thomas could not mention a single person in his life who had expressed happiness to see him, not even O'Brien. It took the Corporal aback, especially since Matthew Crawley had not seemed to hold any care or thought about Thomas.
"Would you mind terribly sharing a cup of what constitutes tea in the trenches and talks about happier times and the gardens of Downton?" Matthew asked which took Thomas aback even more.
"I'm afraid the gardens were not much enjoyed by servants', Lieutenant" Thomas answered stiffly.
"Then I shall describe it for you, Corporal" Matthew said with a smile and turned around.
Thomas stood there bewildered for a moment and looked at the other field-medic who had his eyebrow raised "Someone has friends in high places."
Thomas gave a small nod and then thought of Mr Bates and his 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 Lordship would give Thomas the same special treatment.
So Thomas followed Matthew Crawley to his dugout, a dugout clearly for the higher ranks for it had a door instead of a shredded 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 any other accommodation in 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 kettle of water on top of some stone and lit the fire with branches.
"What would His Lordship say, a footman sharing tea with his heir?" Thomas said where he sat upon a wobbly chair.
"Lord Grantham knows better than any that in war we are all equal" Matthew said and sat down opposite of Thomas "I thought 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 tea and mugs.
"But we are not equals, Lieutenant Crawley, not even in war" Thomas stated boldly with his eyes darting around in the dugout "I might have just arrived but this dugout is not like the other, even in our ranking we are separated by class."
"You speak with such audaciousness" Matthew said with surprised eyes, feeling taken aback with the lack of respect from the former footman.
"If you claim us equal, should my mind not be allowed to be spoken boldly, Lieutenant?" Thomas' daring words pierced Crawley but it seemed to soften his expression.
"You are right Corporal, you absolutely are correct." Matthew was sincere in his words for every soldier held valute in war, every life was of matter to him and he fought to protect them. "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" 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 sky-blue ones. "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 that was, as strange as it looked, genuinely returned.
And so did a friendship between a footman turned Corporal and a future Lordship turned Lieutenant formed in the trenches of the great war.