The first member of the family to wake up the following morning was George. Today was the day. As soon as he opened his eyes, he felt a sense of eagerness mixed with a bit of excitement and dread. The dread was still lingering from the previous day, as he still had the feeling that perhaps he was getting himself into something he would never be prepared for, no matter how much he trained. Once George left his bed, he went to his bedroom window, opened it, and was greeted by a purple sky; the sun had barely started to rise. He then decided that he needed to take a walk by himself to clear his mind and prepare himself for the farewells that were ahead. Before he promptly readied himself and left, he made sure to write and leave a note for his family so that they would not worry should they notice his absence before he returned. However, the small note he left in front of his bedroom door had slipped away into the hall and time, as well, had slipped away so quickly that George was not back at Downton Abbey when his family awoke. When they discovered George's absence, the entire household was in a state of worry.

"You don't think he would really leave before saying goodbye, do you?" Mary asked, her face pale from worry. She paced back and forth while Henry watched her.

"I don't see why he would," Robert said before turning his attention to the grand staircase, where Tom was making his descent. "Any sign of him, Tom?"

Tom shook his head. "No, his luggage is still in his room, though. He wouldn't have gone without them. He probably just went out for a short while."

"I'm searching again," Marigold declared as she emerged from behind a pillar and ran up the staircase. "I'll find him, Donk!"

Mary sighed and collapsed onto the settee. "I can't believe he would begin this morning like this. Does he want us all to have a heart attack?"

Henry reached over and held his wife's hand. "Now, now, Mary. He's probably around somewhere on the grounds." He then paused and looked at Robert and Cora. "You don't think he was so scared that he'd leave, do you?"

Cora gasped. "Oh, I do hope not. That wouldn't be in his nature."

"No," Robert grumbled. "He wouldn't desert a commitment he has already made, especially one such as this."

"Desertion already and he hasn't even been sent anywhere," Mary muttered before crossing her arms. "Well, are we just going to sit here and hope he shows up, or are we going to go out and search for him?"

Edith lightly shrugged her shoulders. "Well, Mary, where do you think we should begin? We looked in all the rooms so far."

"Oh, I don't know, Edith, why don't you use your head and-"

"Use my head? Mary, he's your son!"

"Girls," Robert intervened. "Let's not argue, I'm sure George will be back soon."

Mary scoffed and rolled her eyes, avoiding the stare from Edith. Edith, however, was not angry with her sister. She understood that Mary was only projecting her anxiousness onto her and that she hadn't meant to be so cross with her. "Barrow already searched the downstairs," Edith continued, "and the cars are still here so he couldn't have gone far."

The family nodded in agreement and soon, footsteps could be heard above them and Marigold was soon running down the stairs. Her father had warned her not to run but Marigold pretended not to hear him. "I found a note from George! We don't need to worry!" She announced as she approached the last steps.

"A note?" Mary asked as she immediately stood. "He hasn't left us, has he?"

Marigold shook her head. "No, he wrote that he was going for a walk and he would be back soon. See, I knew he was alright."

A sigh of relief seemed to escape everyone in the hall; for the moment, they could all relax again.

"Thank heaven," Mary said as she sat down. "I wonder how long he's been gone."

Twenty minutes later, Thomas Barrow went to the entrance hall, announcing that he had seen George approaching. The whole family eagerly stood and waited for George to walk through the doors.

"Master George," Barrow greeted as he opened the door.

"Good morning, Barrow," George said with a smile. He waved to his family and walked over. "Now, before I start getting scolded, let me explain-"

His mother interrupted. "What on earth would possess you to leave without a word on a morning such as this? Do you know how worried we all were for you? We thought you had left for training without saying goodbye!"

George blinked. "Mother, without a word? My luggage is still here and I left a note."

"That was barely found," Mary sighed. "Sorry, I was just worried." She then embraced her son tightly. George quietly told his mother that she wished she hadn't worried so much but she simply kissed his head in response. "Well, you're back now," she said. "We wanted to have breakfast together as a family. How does that sound?"

"Perfect," George smiled.

Breakfast for the entire family was bittersweet, especially for George. He knew that it would be quite some time before he would ever share a meal as delicious as the ones prepared at Downton with the exact same people that were in the room with him. He savored each bite and ate as slowly as possible, but the gentle movement on his wristwatch kept warning him that the time to depart from Downton Abbey and his family was nearing.

The family ate in silence. The laughter that had filled the dining room the night before had vanished and was replaced by the light clinking of forks against plates. The silence was quite an annoyance to Robert, who had not wanted the morning to be so drab, no matter how upset he was over George leaving. "George," Robert finally said, "your friend, Edward Trent, will he be arriving at the same time you do?"

George nodded and swallowed his food. "I believe so, yes. I forget when his train leaves but I do believe we are arriving close to the same time as each other."

"Good," Mary said. "It makes me feel better that there will be someone there that you know."

"Is he interested in training for the airforce as well?" Tom asked, looking over at his nephew.

George shook his head softly. "No, I don't think so. I think he's interested in the army or navy. I think he said the army, though. I don't know if I should even go near a plane, let alone fly one," he chuckled softly.

Mary's eyes widened in horror while Marigold faced her cousin. "It's what you've been wanting to do though, George," Marigold said to him.

"I think you should do what you'd like, whether it be flying planes or being in the army," Henry said. "I don't like the idea any more than your mother does, but you could be great at all of it. You'll never know unless you try."

George smiled at his father while his mother glared at him. "Henry, don't encourage him," she said.

"I'm just giving him some fatherly advice, Mary."

"And I appreciate it, thank you," George said to his father. "I suppose I'll let you all know when I truly decide whether I'd like to be in the air, at sea, or on the ground."

Perhaps none of those at all, Robert thought. He still had hope that a resolution would happen before George was ever sent in to fight. "You're very young, George. Perhaps they'll have you do patrol or something like that for some time."

George made a face. "If they send Edward somewhere and keep me here, I'll go mad. I should be out there too, I think. Being on patrol won't help anything."

"Better Edward Trent be sent anywhere instead of you," Mary said quietly. The only ones that heard her were Henry and Tom. Henry sighed and Tom glanced at Mary, saddened by her words. He cleared his throat and continued to eat his food. Mary then felt a twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry, that was rude of me to say. Sybil would be devastated if anything were to happen to him," Mary said to Tom softly.

"It's not just that, Mary; he has a family too. I'm sure his mother is as equally worried for him as you are for your own son. She doesn't want her son to be sent away into this mess either. I'm sure every parent feels that way."

Mary looked down at her lap, ashamed. "Well, George," she said louder so she could be heard. "Your father and I are accompanying you to the station. Tom is, as well.

"May I go?" Marigold asked.

"Please do, Marigold," George smiled.

"Just don't leave with him," Edith chuckled nervously.

"I won't, Momma."

When the family was finished with their breakfast, it was time for George to be taken to the train station. As they walked by the door, his suitcase was brought down from his room by Thomas Barrow. "Master George," Barrow said as he handed him his suitcase.

"Thank you, Barrow," George said and shook his hand.

When Thomas Barrow shook George's hand, it had occurred to him how fast the grandchildren had grown up. Young George was now leaving Downton Abbey to take part in a war. Barrow truly hoped that George would not experience anything like he had experienced in the Great War. The thought of it frightened him to no end. "Good luck with everything," Barrow said, stepping aside so that the family could say their goodbyes. He looked away, beginning to feel emotional.

George went to his grandmother, whose eyes were already welled up with tears as she embraced her grandson. "Goodbye, George. I love you so much," Cora said to him. "Please write to us or try to telephone whenever you're able to."

"I love you too, Granny," George said and kissed her cheek. "And I'll try to write as much as I can."

Cora tearfully nodded and watched as George went to his aunt and uncle, Edith and Bertie.

"Oh, George," Edith sighed as she hugged him. "We are so proud of you. We'll be thinking of you constantly."

"Thank you. I'll be thinking of you all constantly too," George smiled as he hugged his aunt. He then shook his uncle's hand. "Uncle Bertie."

"Good luck to you, George. As your grandmother said, write or telephone us. If you ever need anything, do not hesitate to let us know. You know there isn't anything we wouldn't do for you."

George nodded in thanks. "Thank you, Uncle Bertie. I know."

The last person George needed to say goodbye to was his grandfather. Robert kept a collected expression as he shook his grandson's hand. He then placed his other hand on George's arm. "Everyone keeps saying this but good luck, my boy. I've been dreading this day for quite some time now and now that it's here, there's no stopping it. Remember all that we've taught you and don't ever forget that we are here for you. Downton is here for you. War may destroy and seem uncontrollable but our family will always be here to welcome you back with open arms no matter what happens. Be brave, George."

George nodded and lightly squeezed his grandfather's hand. "I'll make you all even more proud, Donk. I'll be brave. I'm doing this for you, our home, for all of you. I love you, Donk."

Robert gently dabbed the tears away from his own eyes with the back of his hand. "I love you, George."

Slowly, George backed away from his grandfather and took one last look around the entrance hall and at the faces of his family. He then heard the door behind him being opened. He looked behind him to see that his uncle, father, and mother were waiting for him. "George," Tom said gently. "It's time to go."

George inhaled deeply and went to the door. He smiled at his grandparents, aunt, and uncle. "I love you all."

"We love you, George," Cora said and soon after, George walked out of Downton Abbey.

"Shall you drive or shall I?" Tom asked Henry as they approached the car.

"I'll drive, Tom," Henry said to him. "You've been driving all over since you've arrived here."

"Fair enough."

Mr. Crewe walked over to say a quick goodbye to George. George thanked him for being a wonderful chauffeur and for driving him and his cousins around in the weeks prior. While they were talking, Mary and Marigold got into the backseat of the car while Henry and Tom went to the driver's and front passenger's side. When George was finally in the back of the car, seated next to his cousin, Henry began to drive.

"It feels odd not having Sybbie here," George said as he looked out the window. "I wish I could have talked to her this morning."

"I'm sure she feels the same," Tom said, looking back at George. "I'm seeing her on Sunday. I'll let her know that all went well this morning."

"Thank you."

Marigold sighed. The thought of Sybbie made her wish she could see her again and keep her at Downton with her for forever. "Whatever am I supposed to do now?" she asked quietly.

"Amazing things," George said, putting his arm around her. "Keep writing your stories, write letters to me and Sybbie, keep Donk laughing. Keep being you, Marigold."

Marigold smiled softly and rested her head against George's shoulder. "It won't be the same without you being home to annoy me."

George chuckled. "No. I'll be off annoying Edward, my fellow soldiers, and the enemy."

Marigold giggled softly. "Just don't annoy them too much. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I won't."

Mary kept her eyes fixated on the world outside of the car window as Henry drove on. She remembered exactly what she felt when Matthew had left for war. Thankfully, however, George was not leaving for actual combat, yet. The worry for Matthew's survival had taken such a toll on her, she wondered if she would even be able to stand to live without knowledge of what was happening to her son. She glanced over at George, who was smiling and joking with his cousin. He had always put others happiness before himself. His kindness was contagious and she knew that his charm and nature was the same that his father had. Matthew would be so proud of him and she was sure that if he were still here, he would be reassuring her that their son would be just fine.

When they arrived at the train station, George was the last one out of the car. He reluctantly emerged with his suitcase in his hand and immediately went to his mother. He offered her his arm, which she gladly took. He then nodded to his father that he was ready and soon, the five entered the station together

"I have five minutes," George said as they arrived at his platform.

"Right, have you got your ticket somewhere safe?" His father asked.

George nodded and pointed to his coat pocket. "I am very responsible," he smirked.

Marigold giggled and looked around the train station. She was surprised at the sight of a young boy sitting alone on a bench with one suitcase. He had his head in his hands and was swinging his legs back and forth. Marigold felt a sudden sadness for the boy and wanted to go over and ask him where his parents were but she then saw a woman approach him. She must have asked him for his name because the young boy nodded, hopped off the bench, and held the woman's hand as they walked away together. Marigold suspected that the child must have been evacuated from London and sent to Downton for safety. How many more would arrive? She wondered.

"Marigold."

A startled Marigold turned and saw George standing before her. "I have to get on my train."

Marigold nodded and before she could say a word, a sob escaped her. She tightly hugged George's waist and wanted to beg him not to go. George put his arms around his cousin and kissed the top of her head. "It's only training, Marigold," George reminded her. "I'll be back soon hopefully."

"George, no," Marigold cried. She was angry at herself now; she had not wanted to make a scene and leave George with memories of her crying. She held her head up and wiped her eyes. "I'm sorry," she sniffled. "I'll be brave for you, George, if you'll be brave for me."

"Always, Marigold," George said to her. "When I come back, we'll continue our shenanigans, alright?"

"Do you promise?"

"I promise."

When George said goodbye to his uncle, Tom, the dread that George had been feeling that morning began to return. Every time he said goodbye, he knew the time to board the train was only drawing nearer.

"I look forward to the day when you and Sybbie are both at Downton Abbey together again," Tom said to his nephew.

"Me too, Uncle. Thank you for everything. Your advice and even just your presence at Downton these past few weeks has been wonderful."

Tom smiled. "Thank you, George. Good luck."

When George approached his parents, the train whistle blew and George hastily hugged his father. "Make sure Mother doesn't worry for me too much," he said to him.

Henry almost chuckled. "You know I can't control that. She'll be fine, though. We all will be. You will be too."

"Thank you, Father. Thank you for raising me to be brave enough to be able to do this."

Henry patted George's arm. "George, it has always been an honor to help raise you into the young man you've become. Now go on and say goodbye to your mother."

George slowly turned to his mother and the two embraced tightly. Mary held her son to her like she did when he was young, but now he was grown and much taller than her. "I love you, George. Be careful."

"I love you," George said quietly to her. "I know you don't want me to go but I promise I won't do anything stupid."

Mary laughed through her tears. "Just do well in your training, George. Your father's spirit is always with you."

George was silent for a moment before speaking again. "I went to see him, Mother."

Mary gently pulled away from her son and looked up at him. "What?"

"This morning," George began, "when I went out for a walk, I went to the cemetery to talk to him. I can't explain it, but I felt his presence was there. I felt like he was listening to me."

Mary lightly sobbed and hugged her son again. "He's always listening, George. He's always listening to his boy."

George smiled at the thought. "I passed by Aunt Sybil too."

"You are as courageous as both of them were," Mary said, glancing over at Henry and Tom, who were both smiling softly at her. "Hurry before your train leaves."

George kissed his mother's cheek and nodded. He picked up his suitcase and gave a small salute to his family. "I love you all. I'll write as soon as I'm able to."

Marigold sighed and rubbed her eyes. When Tom saw her, he immediately put his arm around her for comfort and watched George. "Give Edward our best, as well," he said to him.

"Will do," George said as he boarded the train. "Goodbye."

George entered the compartment and could no longer be seen by his family. Mary cried softly for a brief moment before she dried her eyes and stared at the train. Henry, Tom, and Marigold were silent, as well, and as the train slowly made its departure from the station, Mary and the others slowly began to follow it. As they neared the exit of the station, George opened the window of where he was sitting and waved at them. "Goodbye!" He called out.

Marigold smiled and waved at him. "I'll miss you!"
"Goodbye, son!" Henry waved as Mary simply watched him with a small smile on her face.

"We'll all be together again soon!" Tom said before the train was too far away.

When George could no longer hear his family, he sat back down in his seat and watched the passing scenery of Downton. His home was growing farther and farther away but he reminded himself that this was the start of a new adventure. The young George Crawley was headed into the unknown and leaving all that he had ever known behind.

"You know I would never have expected this," Mary said as Henry drove them back to Downton Abbey. "Everything changed after the third of September. If I would have known George had dreams of being a war hero, I would have- oh, I don't even know, sent him to America to live with you and Sybil."

"You wouldn't have. It's still a shock to a lot of us, Mary," Tom said. "I had no idea that this visit to Downton for Sybbie's birthday would result in me leaving her in London to train as a nurse. Had I known, I probably would have kept her in Boston too but I can't help it. I have to slowly begin to let her go as much as it pains me to do so."

"They have their own lives to live," Henry said. "George is eighteen, Sybil is nineteen, and Marigold is sixteen. They're not children anymore. How do we expect them to become independent and responsible adults if they don't experience life for themselves?"

Tom nodded at his brother-in-law's words. "Exactly."

"Yes, but we want our children to experience life, not war. Which eighteen or nineteen-year-old is prepared for those horrors? Not the children we raised." Mary sighed. "What are we even doing?"

"We were young adults when the war started for us too, Mary," Tom reminded her. "Much older than our children but we were just as ignorant as they were."

Marigold stared out the window as her aunt and uncles talked. She didn't like the conversation and to her, it seemed as though they had not noticed she was even there anymore. All she wanted to do right now is run upstairs to her bedroom and be alone. She didn't want to hear any more talk of war or the possibility of her cousins, whom she loved dearly, being in danger.

The moment that they had returned to Downton Abbey, Marigold ran through the entrance hall. The rest of her family were in another room so she was able to run up the stairs without anyone stopping her. She went straight to her bedroom, closed the door, and went to her bed. As she sat, her vision became blurred by tears. The loneliness had already begun to set in but she refused to let it ruin her day. With a sigh, she went to her desk and sat down before her typewriter. Tap tap. Her fingers lightly pressed two of the letters but she did not know what she was typing. She wished she could write her desire for her cousins to return to her but she knew there was nothing she could do to bring them back now. Though the rest of her family were downstairs together, without her cousins, Marigold felt utterly alone and she cried onto her desk.

Marigold heard a soft knock on her door minutes later and she immediately wiped her eyes. "Come in," she said, standing up from her seat.

The door opened and her mother walked in. "Hello, darling," she smiled. "Why are you upstairs alone? Have you been crying, sweet thing?"

Marigold shrugged her shoulders and hugged herself. "I just needed some time for myself, I suppose. I just miss them both so much."

"I understand," her mother said. "I know you're missing them dearly already. We all are. I don't think George or Sybil would want us to be sitting around Downton sad or sulking over them though, do you?"

Marigold shook her head. "George would tell us to stop."

Her mother lightly giggled. "He would. Well, your father and I had an idea. Why don't we drive into the village, have lunch, and spend the day together? Just the three of us."

A smile appeared on Marigold's face. "I'd love that. Can we leave right now?"

"Of course! Let's go then." Edith was relieved Marigold agreed to the idea. It saddened her to see her daughter alone without her cousins but she had the rest of the family here with her and together, they would be sure to make Marigold feel truly happy again.

When the train slowly pulled into the station that afternoon, George gazed out of the window and onto the platform, not expecting it to be so crowded. Outside of his window were other men, some young and some older, standing on the platform with their luggage. He could see their eager expressions and it brought some comfort to him that others were feeling the same way he did. With his suitcase in hand, George stepped off of the train and joined the group, nodding at those he passed by. Surprisingly, he didn't have to walk too far before seeing his friend nearby standing next to an empty bench.

Edward's train had arrived half an hour earlier and he along the rest of the men he traveled with were told by a sergeant to remain there until further instruction. He was quite tired from his travels from London back to Northern Yorkshire the night before. He had returned home late and woke up early in the morning to pack, as well as share a meal with his mother, who had been emotional but remained strong as Edward left their home. Her heart ached to see her only son leave for something that he had not planned for during his schooling or even his life. She prayed for a swift end to the war so that Edward would have no chance of being sent anywhere to fight, however, as soon as her son was out of her sight, she had a feeling that nothing would ever be the same again.

"Edward!" George called out as he approached the bench.

Edward looked over at George approaching him and immediately made his way to him. The two friends shared a friendly hug and gave one another a pat on the back. "Hello, George," Edward said. "Well, we've done it, haven't we? We're here. How was your trip?"

"We are here," George said proudly. "My trip was perfect. How was yours?"

"Just fine," Edward answered. "The sergeant said we are to wait here until given further instruction. They're transporting us all to camp it seems."

"Good, I can hardly wait. How was yesterday? How's my cousin?"

Before Edward could answer, the sergeant he had spoken of, stood in front of the men and ordered them to line up side-by-side. The men moved quickly, some clumsily, and arranged themselves in the way that was asked of them. Edward and George stood next to one another and listened as the sergeant spoke loudly to the group about their next destination: the training camp. He ordered them to turn and march forward to the several trucks that were waiting to be boarded. Edward marched behind George, who had too much pep in his step. At one point, George glanced back at Edward and smiled at him as though he thought this was the most exciting thing he had ever done. Edward wanted to shake his head at him but kept his focus on the trucks ahead.

George felt the excitement he once had about training return to him as they waited in line to board the truck. "Isn't this fun, Edward? Marching and everything."

Edward furrowed his brows. "You think marching is fun? Wait until we start marching non-stop then you'll change your mind."

"Pfft, no. Sybbie and I used to march around Downton constantly when we were children, though we'd get scolded because apparently, that could ruin the rugs," George chuckled.

Edward sighed and watched his friend board the truck. George's words and attitude about the situation just proved how young he was. It was all a new experience for both of them but Edward found there to be nothing "fun" about any of this. He would much rather be home or out enjoying life as young people are supposed to do.

Edward and George were packed together with eight other men in one truck. Some were already speaking amongst themselves and asking each other about their lives. Edward remained silent until the truck began to leave the station and eager George's knee began to bob up and down. "You alright, George?" Edward asked him.

George nodded. "Of course. I'm just a bit nervous but in a good way. Aren't you excited, Edward?"

"Hm, I don't think I can use that word to describe how I'm feeling right now, actually," Edward sighed.

George rolled his eyes and smirked. "Oh, Trent, you're never any fun. I don't know what my cousin sees in you. You never answered my question earlier, either. How was it yesterday?"

The thought of yesterday brought a smile to Edward's face. "It was wonderful. We went for that picnic you told me about and we had a very nice time. It was too short, though. Time with her is always too short."

George let out a sound that sounded like a snore. "Sounds like a terrible time," he joked.

Edward simply stared at him with a raised brow, trying to seem unamused.

"I'm only joking, Edward," George said to him. "Goodness. Well, due to your lack of detail in telling me what happened, I'll assume you both had an unforgettable time together."

"We did."

George smirked and looked around the truck at the others in their group. He caught the eye of an older gentleman seated near him. The man looked at George quizzically and leaned forward to see him better before asking: "Aren't you a bit young to be here, lad? Why are you here?"

George was taken aback by the question but answered politely. "No, sir, I'm eighteen. I volunteered."

"Eighteen?" Another man asked in shock. "You're a child! Look at you, still a young boy."

Edward noted the expression on George's face; it held confusion mixed with contempt.

"You don't belong out here, boy, " the first man said to George, who was trying his best to not show any signs of anger. Edward gently nudged George's arm with his elbow, hoping George understood the gesture as him advising him not to do or say anything he would end up regretting.

"Soon you'll wish you were back home with your mother. You've made a mistake coming here, both you and your friend. You schoolboys are always the first ones to go," the other man added.

"Rubbish! We'll be the last ones to go!" George said in a tone loud enough to gain the attention of everyone in the truck. Some men began laughing and George had a glare fixated on the two men who were pestering him.

"These are the types we're getting to help us win this war?" One laughed.

"We're in trouble then!"

Edward closed his eyes briefly in embarrassment and annoyance. He wished he could disappear at that moment to avoid the awkwardness; he'd gladly even walk to camp the rest of the way to avoid this nonsense. However, he could not allow his best friend to be treated in such a matter and it would be very unwise of them to make enemies with these men. Before anyone else could say more, Edward decided that he needed to stop the situation before it escalated into anything worse. "Now, men, are we really going to act like this?" He said, making sure to give them as much eye contact as possible. The laughter began to cease and the men looked at Edward expectantly.

"We've been in this truck less than five minutes with each other and foolishness is already taking place," Edward continued. "Does it matter what age you or him are? We volunteered to be here because we all have something in common: we're here to defend Britain together. We're here to protect those we love and what we love. We shouldn't make enemies of each other when there's a worse enemy out there we'll have to face."

Those who were listening to Edward speaking nodded their heads in agreement. George crossed his arms and held his head up proudly. "You sound like a wise captain already," he muttered to him.

"I think apologies are in order," Edward said.

"Ah, even wiser."

"George, you first."

"What? I did nothing wrong!"

Edward looked at George and narrowed his eyes. "Apologizing would be very mature of you."

George narrowed his eyes back at his friend and with a brief hesitation, looked at the two men. "I'm sorry. Yes, I am young but I know the choice I made and I will be prepared for whatever is to come."

One of the men cleared his throat and sighed. "I'm sorry too. I meant no offense, really. It only upsets me to see the youth so eager to join in the fight. If I were your age, I'd want to stay as far away from war as long as I could."

"I feel the same. Really, we're sorry," the other said. "I take back what I said too. You schoolboys are the able-bodied ones we need out there."

"Thank you," George said. "I just don't want to hear any more doubts before I truly start to doubt myself."

The man nodded in understanding. "Of course. I understand. All boys want to become heroes."

Edward was silent for the rest of the drive. George, surprisingly, began to converse with the men who apologized and the three even shared a little bit about themselves with each other. With a sigh, Edward reached his hand into his coat pocket and took out the travel book Sybil had given him. He flipped slowly through the pages, wishing that the truck he was in was taking him to a different destination than the one they were heading to.

The men were told to check in as soon as they arrived at the camp, which consisted of muddy-colored rows of barracks for housing soldiers, storing supplies, and medical uses. There were vast fields for training of all sorts and a dining hall. George, now in a better mood than before, watched with admiration as rows of soldiers marched passed them. That'll be me very soon.

After check-in, the men were ordered to march to their given barrack, set their suitcases down, and return to receive more information. George and Edward marched along with a small group of men to the first barrack. When the door was opened for them by an officer, George's mouth fell open in surprise. He wasn't sure what he was expecting but the simplicity of the room surprised him. There were rows of seemingly uncomfortable beds on both sides of the room, some even in the middle of the room, which seemed to be stripped of all color.

"Choose a bed for yourselves, lads," the officer said as the men starting filing in one by one.

"Drab," George whispered to Edward as they entered the barrack.

Edward responded with a frown. "It certainly isn't Downton Abbey. What did you expect?"

George shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, but it wasn't this. No matter, we shall make the best of it!" He then ran to two beds, one was against the wall and the other one was adjacent to it. "Here, one for you, one for me. Which would you like?"

"Er, the one next to the wall," Edward said. "At least I can turn away from you should you start snoring," he chuckled.

"I don't snore," George groaned. "Fine, I'll take this bed." He set his suitcase down on his desired bed and patted the mattress. He made a face of disappointment and then popped open his suitcase. "What did you bring with you, Ed?"

Edward set his suitcase down. "Some clothes, a couple of photographs, and a book that Sybil gave to me."

"Ah, I also brought clothes, a photograph, and I think that's all," George said as he looked through his suitcase. "It's already been quite the day, wouldn't you agree?"

After George asked the question, the officer, who was standing outside of the barrack, returned and announced that the men were to follow him out. He also reminded them that things would be easy for them today but tomorrow morning, it would be drastically different. This made a few of the men in the room appear a bit uneasy.

"Oh, George," Edward said as the two walked out of the barracks together. "I believe our day has barely just begun."

Sybil spent her Saturday preparing for her upcoming lectures. She spent many hours in the library reading with Grace and writing short essays, which caused her hand to cramp but she pushed on until her work was completely done. Throughout the day, she had taken short breaks to see if the telephone was available so that she could speak to her family back at Downton. However, every time she went to the telephone, it was occupied. She felt terrible that she was not able to speak to George that morning before he left but she would be seeing her father tomorrow and she'll learn all about how the morning at Downton went. Her thoughts were focused on George and Edward all day, even during her studying and writing. Grace even teased her for daydreaming too much about her outing with Edward that taken place the previous day. Sybil blushed the thoughts away but still, her mind wandered to the outing and the possibilities of how the camp was for Edward and George. Luckily, before she retired for the night, she was able to speak with her father on the telephone and he reminded her of his visit the following morning.

The next day, her father was waiting for her in the courtyard and the moment Sybil saw him, a smile spread across her face. "Papa!" She ran over to him and the two embraced tightly.

"Sybbie, darling!" Her father said as he kissed the top of her head. "How are you? I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, Papa. I'm well! How are you and how is everyone at Downton?"

"We're all fine," her father said to her.

Sybil smiled and hugged her father's arm. "I'm glad to hear that, Papa. Are you hungry? There's a café nearby that we can go to."

"That sounds wonderful."

Together, Sybil and her father left St. Margaret's and made their way to the café. They wouldn't have much time together, as his train left in a few hours, but he promised he would continue to visit her every other week or so; Sybil liked this idea very much. As they walked, Sybil noticed her father staring at every air raid precaution sign they passed by. He even stopped for a brief moment to read a blackout rules sign but Sybil gently urged him to continue walking, which he did but with a look of worry on his face. Sybil could sense his worry already but she knew telling them that the signs were just precautionary would bring him no comfort. Luckily, they were at the café in no time and she knew that he would be fully distracted there.

"So, you saw Edward yesterday; how was that?" Sybil's father asked as he took his seat across from her. They were seated at a small table for two in front of the café window with a view of the busy street outside.

"It was wonderful! I was so surprised," Sybil smiled. "We went on a picnic with the Helen and Elliot Woodhams and it was just a perfect evening. I wish it didn't end. I keep wondering what he and George are doing at the camp. Do you think everything is alright?"

"Yes," her father sighed. "George left yesterday morning and was very anxious about it on Friday. By the end of the night, I think he was feeling better. He did well yesterday morning, actually, everyone did. We said our goodbyes to him and wished him well."

Sybil's eyes saddened and she leaned back in her seat. "How's Aunt Mary handling it all? What about Marigold?"

"Yesterday Mary was emotional but we spent all day together and I think that helped us all with feeling better. She was in better spirits today, so was Marigold. She now feels very lonely but Edith and Bertie kept her busy yesterday."

"My poor cousin. I'll have to telephone Downton Abbey soon so I can speak to her. I really wish I could have spoken to George before he left too. I tried to telephone but someone was always using it."

"He wishes he could have spoken to you too. You'll see one another soon, though, whether it be here or back at Downton," her father said with a smile. "But I'm glad you had a nice time with Edward. Speaking of which, I have something for you."

Sybil watched as her father reached into his inside coat pocket. She tilted her head in curiosity and leaned forward. "For me? Ooh, whatever could it be?" She smiled.

Her father grinned and placed a small envelope on the table before here. "Open it, Sybbie."

Sybil eagerly opened the envelope and took out what was inside. A smile spread across her face when she saw the photograph that she and her father had taken together. "Aw, Papa," she sighed. "You got the photographs! I love this one so much. I'm going to set it right next to the picture I have of Mother. I think this is one of my favorites we have ever taken together."

"I agree," her father said. "There's another one in there."

Sybil took out another photograph from the envelope; it was the one taken of her and Edward. Her heart felt as though it had skipped a beat when she had laid her eyes on the image of him. He looked incredibly handsome and together, they both looked very happy. She smiled softly as she recalled the moment her father proposed the idea of them taking the photograph together.

"Edward has one, as well," her father said. "This may sound silly, but knowing there is a photograph of you two together makes me happy. I don't have many - not many at all - with your mother and I wish I did. No matter what the future holds for you and him, I'm glad you have some sort of memory with him captured in a photograph."

Sybil leaned across the table and kissed her father's cheek. "Thank you, Papa," she said as she sat back down. "I cherish any and every photograph I can get with those that mean the world to me," she added, gently placing the photographs in the envelope.

"I'm glad, darling," her father said.

"I'll put these away," Sybil said while her father watched her. He was instantly curious at the sight of the gas mask peeking out as soon as she opened her satchel and placed the envelope inside.

"What is that?" Her father asked.

Sybil knew what he was referring to and took out the mask to show him. "A gas mask. Isn't it horrendous?"

Her father made a face. "It looks like something from a horror story. They make you carry those around, don't you? I think we walked by a sign earlier that mentioned that."

"Yes, we have to have it with us at all times. It's just something to have in case something were to happen that would cause the air to be unsafe to breathe," she said quickly. "Would you like to see me with it on?"

"I'd rather not," her father said. "Nevermind all that, let's eat, alright?"

"Alright, Papa."

Sybil and her father ordered drinks and sandwiches for themselves. They spent the afternoon conversing about what was happening at Downton and Sybil explained all that she was learning to her father. He loved hearing how much she had learned about even though she had only been there one week. The time they shared with one another made them feel as though they were home again together and all was perfect.

"So, Papa," Sybil began after she took one last bite of her sandwich; "I have some news."

Her father finished his drink. "Oh? Tell me, Sybbie."

"I'm going to learn how to drive an ambulance."

"Are you?" Her father asked in surprise. "Sybil, that's wonderful! You'll be a natural."

"Thank you," Sybil blushed. "I'm looking forward to it. There's a young man, Peter Harlow, who works at the hospital as an ambulance driver and we were talking and I told him I knew how to drive. He said they could use more help and he told Sister Agnes so she wants me to start training for that next week. I don't think I'll be driving too much once I learn. I think it'll be when they need me. Perhaps I'll be an assistant to one of the drivers, I'm not sure. I want to work in the hospital as much as I can rather than in an ambulance."

"I understand. Well, I'm very proud of you, Sybil."

"Thank you, Papa. I only hope I'm not overworking myself."

"I don't think so. You always see things through, Sybbie. You're Irish, remember? You never give up," her father said with a wink.

"That is true, Papa," Sybil laughed. She then took a sip of her drink and looked out the window at the passing people and cars. Women walked by with shopping bags and prams, men walked side-by-side with their sweethearts, who giggled at their words; life had still seemed to be undisturbed. "Do you think by this time next year, everything will be the same?"

Her father leaned back in his seat. "I'm not sure. I hope so," he said quietly. "Things can change in the blink of an eye during wartime, though. Let's hope 1940 is not too different than the year is going now."

With a sigh, Sybil nodded in agreement and turned back to her plate. She had hoped her father was right; a new decade meant new changes in the world and but she had a feeling that such changes would only cause the war to escalate.

Sybil and her father remained in the café for some time longer before leaving to take a walk through London together. They continued their conversation about happier matters but their time together was cut short as Sybil's father had to return to King's Cross to catch his train. Despite Sybil wanting to accompany him to the station, her father thought it best if he left her at St. Margaret's before he boarded a bus. He felt better knowing Sybil was already at the hospital instead of walking around the city alone.

"Leaving you never gets easier," her father said as they stood before the hospital courtyard.

"I know. Goodbyes are always difficult, even if we shall see one another soon," Sybil said, giving her father a tight hug. "We will see one another soon, yes?"

"We will." Her father kissed the top of her head and took a step back. "I love you, Sybil. I hope you have a wonderful week."

"Thank you, Papa. I love you too," Sybil said before she kissed his cheek. "Have a safe trip back to Downton. Give everyone my love, please."

Her father promised he would and then slowly began to walk out of the hospital courtyard. He turned around and waved at his daughter. "Goodbye, my darling!"

"Goodbye, Papa!" Sybil called out. She watched her father walk away and kept her gaze on him until he boarded a bus that stopped for him. She waved as she watched him leave. Though she felt happiness in her heart from just seeing her father, his departure had left her a bit saddened. She always yearned for more time when she had to be separated from her family. Though she couldn't be with her real family while she was in London, Sybil hoped that the friends she would make at St. Margaret's would begin to feel like family to her. She already felt that she would have a lasting bond with Helen and Elliot, and possibly Grace. She knew that the more she bonded with those she befriended here, the less homesick she would feel for both Boston and Downton.

As Sybil crossed the courtyard, she saw Peter Harlow wheeling a crate toward the side the hospital. Not wanting to go to her room just yet, Sybil decided to go and greet Peter. She reminded herself that she needed to thank him for telling Sister Agnes about her desire to learn how to drive an ambulance, as well. She quickened her pace as she approached him and called out his name. "Peter!"

Peter turned around and a smile immediately appeared on his face. "Nurse Branson! Hello, how are you? Happy Sunday."

"Happy Sunday," Sybil smiled as she stood before him. "Are you working today?"

"Just doing the usual tasks. I always like completing the little odds and ends before the week begins. See, I'm putting new medical supplies in the ambulances," Peter said, glancing down at the crate he had been pushing.

"I see," Sybil said, looking at the crate.

Peter watched her for a moment before clearing his throat. "Ah, and you? What have you been up to this fine day?"

Sybil brought her eyes from the crate to Peter. "My father visited me so we went to a café together. He just left, actually."

"Sounds like a nice time," Peter said to her. "He travels from, what was it you said, Downton?"

"Ah, yes, Downton! You remembered."

Peter smirked and tapped the side of his head with his finger. "I have the memory of the elephant."

Sybil repressed a chuckle. "Do you? I should be careful with what I say then, shouldn't I? Anyway, I came over to thank you."

Peter leaned against a courtyard pillar nonchalantly. "For what?"

"For telling Sister Agnes about me wanting to learn to drive an ambulance."

"Oh! That, yes, you're welcome," Peter said proudly.

Sybil raised an eyebrow at him. "Memory of an elephant is what you said, wasn't it?" She teased.

Peter laughed heartily and shook his head at her. "You got me there. Really, though, it was no trouble telling Sister Agnes about you. I was happy to do it. As a matter of fact, I'm the one who's going to be teaching you."

"Oh, really? I'm looking forward to it," Sybil smiled. She then looked back to the hospital entrance. "Well, I really should-"

"Come with me and I'll begin the lessons right now."

Sybil darted a look of confusion at Peter. "Right now? Aren't you busy?"

"Yes, right now! I'm going to the ambulances anyway," Peter said before pushing the crate and walking away. Sybil looked back at the hospital entrance and then back at Peter. Were they even allowed to take an ambulance without asking? She pondered in silence for a few seconds. The idea made her nervous but she was also intrigued by the idea of getting to possibly drive an ambulance today. She had nothing else to do for the rest of the day either so it seemed it would be time spent well.

Peter stopped walking and glanced back at her. "Well, are you going to come with me or not?"

"As long as we're allowed to take an ambulance," Sybil said warily as she slowly began to follow him.

Peter led her to the side of the hospital where rows of ambulances were parked next to each other. A few were missing due to being used at the moment but the ones that did remain needed to have new medical supplies placed in them, which was Peter's task. Sybil offered to help him, which Peter greatly appreciated. Together, Peter and Sybil went to each ambulance and placed bandages, medicine, blankets, and more in them so that there would be ample supplies whenever it was to be used next. As they resupplied the ambulances, Peter took the opportunity to teach Sybil where certain things in the ambulance were should she ever need to know. It wasn't too long before they had resupplied the final ambulance and Sybil's lesson would begin.

"Alright, then, get on in," Peter said as he opened the driver's side door for Sybil, who was staring at him as though he were mad. "Well, don't look at me like that, Nurse Branson," he laughed. "How do you expect to learn if you're not driving it yourself? You'll never learn by simply watching me, though I've noticed many of the other nurses enjoy doing that."

Sybil felt her face redden and she immediately went to the ambulance. "I'll drive," she said as she got into the driver's seat.

"That's the spirit," Peter grinned as he closed the door for her. As he made his way to the other side, Sybil took a deep breath in her seat. Peter Harlow had been sneaking in his flirtations here and there since she had met him. She knew she had to be careful as to how she reacted to him since she did not want him to think anything that wasn't true. However, Sybil reminded herself that perhaps she was just being paranoid; it may just be part of his personality and in his mind, that was his way of being friendly. She did not yet know what she completely thought of Peter but so far, he seemed to be someone who would be a good friend and that's exactly what she needed more of.

"I'm sure this is fairly similar to the cars you've driven before, isn't? Gear, wheel, pedal; all simple, yes?" Peter asked as he sat in the seat next to her.

Sybil looked around and noted that the inside of the car did indeed resemble the cars she had driven before. She nodded and placed one hand on the gear and the other on the wheel. "Shall I go then?"

"If you're ready," Peter said to her.

Sybil's nerves became apparent when the engine turned on. She said a silent prayer in her mind as she slowly began to drive the ambulance out of the lot it was parked in. She had no idea where she was going but Peter assured her that all would be well and that he would give her directions. As she began to drive onto a street, she realized that she could feel the weight of the ambulance as she drove it; it was also slightly wider than any car she had driven with her father but it did not bother her too much. She kept herself focused and observed her surroundings as she drove on.

"Well done!" Peter said, smiling at her. "You're a fast learner, Nurse Branson."

"Sybil," Sybil said, glancing at him with a soft smile before looking ahead again. "You can finally call me Sybil now since we're not in the hospital."

"Alright, Sybil. You called me by my name earlier instead of the usual 'Mr. Harlow', which surprised me."

"Did I? I don't remember," Sybil lied. "No one will notice this ambulance is gone, will they?"

"Sister Agnes may. If she does, we'll never be able to return to the hospital again and your dreams of becoming a nurse will end." Peter's words startled Sybil so much that her foot slipped, which caused her to brake hard and the ambulance to jerk forward to a halt. The action frightened Peter as much as it had Sybil. "Good Lord, Sybil Branson! Are you trying to send me to an early grave?" Peter asked, staring at her.

"I-I'm sorry," Sybil began, "I didn't mean to do that." She stared ahead while Peter told her to continue on. When cars behind her began to honk their horns at her, Sybil slowly continued to drive."But do you really mean it? We must go back then!"

Suddenly, Peter began laughing, which did not amuse Sybil. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly as she drove. "That was a lie, wasn't it?"

"Of course!" Peter laughed. "We're not going to get into trouble, Sybil. I wish you could see your face! I wouldn't have said anything if I had known you would possibly cause an accident. We would have needed an ambulance."

Sybil groaned. "I'm not usually gullible. That's exactly something my cousin would have done. He's quite the joker."

"The best people are," Peter said, glancing out the window to see how many cars were behind them. "Is he back at Downton? Turn left onto this street."

Sybil did as Peter said and noticed that this street was much less crowded than the one they were just on, which allowed her to relax a bit more. "Not anymore, no. He actually left for training yesterday."

"Ah, is he the only one in your family that's going off for that?"

"No - well, yes. He left with his friend, Edward Trent." Simply saying his name out loud flooded Sybil's mind with memories of her and Edward's September together. She then remembered the day she had driven him from Downton Abbey to Grantham Arms, which was only a few weeks prior. So much had changed and their feelings for one another had formed quickly; it's as though they both knew that an opportunity like this would not return for a long time. They had made the most of the time they had together but they both wanted more and war was preventing it. She wondered what he was doing at camp; was he learning how to use a weapon? Drive a tank? Was he exhausted already? Was he still in awe of the kiss they had shared on Friday in the park? Sybil sighed out loud and remained silent.

"Are you alright?" Peter asked.

Sybil nodded quickly. "I'm alright, I was only thinking."

"Well, you seem much calmer now. There's nothing to it, see? It's different when you're in a rush to pick up someone, though. You need to get them to the hospital as quickly as possible. I don't think you need to worry about that, though. You won't be doing that too much. That would only be if there was a big emergency and we needed more drivers. I think you'll most likely be an assistant to the driver."

"I don't mind either way," Sybil said. "I'd love to drive more but I think I'd feel more comfortable assisting someone in an emergency. If I am needed to drive, though, I'll gladly do it. I want to learn as much as I can."

"You certainly have the right mindset, Sybil," Peter said admirably. "More people should think like you do."

Sybil couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Peter. Ah, how am I doing so far really?"

Peter chuckled softly. "Other than that little mishap back there that we won't speak of, you're doing well. Turn here. I'll have you drive around for a while longer and then we'll return to the hospital. I'll tell you much more about what you need to know this week."

"Perfect."

The rest of Sybil's lesson with Peter was enjoyable; he made her laugh, which helped keep her mind off of her worries while driving. She had relaxed and was able to make it back to the hospital unscathed. She told Peter that she was looking forward to driving again with him soon, which she genuinely was, as was Peter. When the two parted ways, Sybil eagerly went to find Grace so that they can share what they had done during the day. When she found her, she happily showed Grace the photographs her father had given her during her outing with him, which Grace found to be lovely. She adored the picture of Sybil and her father and practically squealed at the sight of the photograph of her and Edward. She went on and on about how handsome Edward was and how perfect they looked together. Her words made Sybil blush immensely and she couldn't help but spend over an hour telling Grace all about Edward and the qualities he possessed that made her feel the way she felt for him.

September 24th, 1939

Dearest Sybil,

How are you? I hope you are always beyond well. I am writing you this letter from camp and though I don't have much time for myself anymore, I'll always find the time to write to you no matter what. The time I am taking to write this letter to you is the first moment I have had for myself all day. It is very late, close to ten o'clock. I'm actually supposed to be in bed since all lights must be out soon but I felt I must write this letter to you first before doing so.

George and I arrived here yesterday and things are already as intense as I imagined. George and I live in a barrack with other men and it's not a very comfortable setting but I don't mind. George, however, would not stop complaining about his bed last night. I had to pretend to be asleep so that he would stop trying to whisper his complaints to me. Does your cousin think everywhere is going to be as grand as Downton Abbey? It's quite funny. I will agree with his complaints about the food, however, which makes me miss meals at home but it's tolerable.

Today was our first actual day of training and all of us are already exhausted. However, we are constantly reminded that this is only the beginning. We were woken by a reveille very early this morning. George was not happy as you can imagine. After a quick medical exam, were given our uniforms, as well as rifles and other items we will need. Afterwards, we ran many miles, marched, and did rifle drills. Later on, we ran and marched again followed by more drills with our weapons. We will be doing this all day to build our stamina and I can see that some of the men are already struggling greatly. I, myself, am pushing through, as is George. You should have seen his face when he was issued his uniform and rifle. One may have thought it was Christmas.

Through all these grueling tasks, I must confess that I have been constantly thinking about you. The time we spent together on Friday seemed to be a dream and I would give anything to go back and spend that day with you over and over again. You are extraordinary, Sybil Branson, and never forget that. I pray that I can see you again very soon.

Take care, Syb. I look forward to your reply.

Yours,

Edward Trent

"Ed, are you quite finished with that letter? All lights must be out very soon," George said, clearly annoyed.

"Yes, yes," Edward told him as he quickly placed the letter in an envelope. "Let's go to the postbox," he said as he stood from his bed.

"What? You're mad," George whispered. The other men in the room were talking amongst themselves and getting ready for bed, but George did not want to call any attention to himself again. "Can't that wait until tomorrow? What if you get caught?"

Edward shook his head. "It can't wait and I won't get caught. I'll be back before the lights go out."

George crossed his arms and began kicking off his boots. "You go to the postbox. I'm not risking anything."

"That's fine," Edward said as he began to walk away. "I'll be right back."

None of the other men in the room seemed to notice Edward slip out of the barrack. He was glad, however, as he wasn't sure if he would be reprimanded for even leaving the barrack at this hour. As he walked, he mentally scolded himself for not being patient enough to send the letter the following morning but he wanted Sybil to receive it as soon as possible. He knew this would be his only time to send it, however, as he would now be constantly busy doing drills and training. The thought of what he went through during the day made him realize how much his whole body ached. He had always thought of himself as an athletic man but never had he gone through what he had experienced today and he was both physically and mentally exhausted.

He was some distance away from the barrack when he heard someone behind him. "Officer Trent," the commanding voice said. Edward froze in place and his heart began to pound quickly. He had been caught and would surely be reprimanded. He cleared his throat and kept his composure and he slowly turned around, expecting to face someone of high command, but standing before him was merely George Crawley. George began to laugh quietly and covered his mouth to repress any laughter that may be heard by anyone nearby. "Had you worried there, didn't I?"

Edward clenched his jaw and looked away from his friend. "That's a cruel joke," he said as he turned around and continued to walk.

George stopped laughing and strode to Edward's side. "I'm sorry, Ed, really. I thought it was funny."

"Did you? You said I was mad for leaving the barrack; why are you out here?"

"I decided I'd best go with you to be sure you wouldn't get lost."

Edward glanced at George in surprise. "Lost? I have a good sense of direction."

"Says the one who couldn't find his way back to Downton from York with my cousin," George smirked.

Edward sighed and shoved one hand into his coat pocket. He remembered the worry he and Sybil both had experienced as they had left the dance hall not knowing where to go and how upset her grandfather was to know that they were at an inn waiting for him and her father to arrive. "I had lost the map," Edward said, chuckling softly.

"A mistake I never would have made," George scoffed. "There's the postbox. Hurry while I keep watch."

Edward nodded and quickly made his way to the postbox with the letter in hand. Before leaving it, he glanced over St. Margaret's Hospital's address to be sure that he wrote it correctly. As he did this, he heard George yawn loudly behind him. Edward glanced back at him and glared while George shrugged his shoulders and motioned for him to hurry.

With a sigh, Edward gently placed the letter in the postbox and hurried back to George. The two quickly walked together, hoping to reach the barrack before the lights were turned off and before anyone noticed their absence. Luckily, the two made it back in perfect time. They readied themselves for bed hurriedly and were in bed the moment lights were turned off. George was elated to be in his bed, as uncomfortable as it was. His legs hurt and he felt as though he could sleep for days. "Ready to do today all over again tomorrow?" George whispered quietly into the darkness in the direction of Edward's bed.

"Hm," Edward sighed. "Unfortunately, we have no choice," he whispered back. "Goodnight, George."

"Goodnight, Ed." George turned onto his side and pulled his blankets over himself. The constant training and exhaustion were what his life consisted of now and as the days went on, things changed only slightly. Some days were easier than others while the difficult days were extremely difficult. September, the month that had brought forth such changes in the lives of George's family, soon had come to end and the quaint breeze was replaced by an October chill in the air. Time was passing by everyone quickly yet the war continued to seem to be so far from home.