Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.

Special thanks to fancy-a-biscuit & MontyPythonFan, aka Jess, for keeping with the story & reviewing!

Also, I decided it would be better if I added general dates and so will start putting them in & if any facts are wrong at any time, just roll with ittt … unless they are ridiculously bad mistakes, then feel free to tell me :)

Enjoyyy & REVIEW :D

xxxxxxxxxxxx

November 1914

It wasn't like Branson agreed with the war, but he had felt like it was his duty to go.

He'd arrived at the camp a couple of months ago, and immediately fallen into the routine. He supposed he was used to running to a schedule, and taking orders was easy enough for him from working as a chauffeur for Lords and Ladies for years. He had to admit he was glad not to be doing that anymore, he hadn't planned on being a chauffeur all his life, but joining the army and going to war wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind either.

He had considered going back to Ireland and joining a division there, but figured everyone was fighting the same war so he might as well stay closer to home, until he was sent overseas that is. It also allowed him to be closer to Sybil, and because of this they had managed to exchange regular letters for the past two months.

The sending off hadn't been so bad. He disliked how the whole household's attention was focused on him, but managed to get through it with Sybil's help, albeit from a distance. She had been a comforting presence as everyone wished him well and told him how they looked forward to him coming back, hopefully soon. He was surprised more than anything when he got to Sybil and she immediately hugged him in front of everyone. Neither said a word, everything had been said at his cottage an hour before, but it still spoke volumes. Branson couldn't help but cast a quick glance around as they pulled apart, his eyes landing on Lord Grantham, but he, nor anyone else, seemed to notice anything amiss. He supposed he was getting paranoid.

Upon arriving at the training camp things seemed to pass in a blur. He kept his head down and just got on with it. During his time there he'd become good friends with the others in his regiment, though Branson couldn't help constantly wondering how many of them would make it back alive. He wouldn't say anything out loud, but he figured not many.

By mid-November he could tell training was coming to an end, and so it didn't come as a shock when the news came that the division would be sent down to London, and then on to France. Apparently the British Expeditionary Force were in desperate need of reserves, which he had to admit didn't fill him with too much confidence.

He was thankful that Sybil's letter and, to his surprise, parcel, came the day before they were all scheduled to leave. He let out a laugh as he opened the package; it contained two pairs of socks, along with a short note. He read it with a grin;

I told you I was quite dreadful!

Sybil x

He then turned his attention to the letter that accompanied it, her familiar, elegant handwriting greeted him and he began to read.

Dearest Tom,

I hope you like the socks I made for you; think of them as an early Christmas present, though I don't know how useful they'll be!

Your last letter made me think of a few things. I don't feel I'm doing anything just sitting around at Downton all day while everyone is risking their lives in the war. So I've decided to train as a nurse. And before you even think it, no, Papa doesn't know yet. Though I hope he'll be supportive, I'll let you know how it goes.

I haven't told anyone yet, apart from Mrs Crawley. I went to talk to her about it today; you remember she trained as a nurse during the war? She was most helpful. She said I'm doing a great thing and it will benefit a lot of people. She also said I should come down to the hospital with her whenever I can and she can give me a bit of training before I go. I think it's a wonderful idea and I'm going to start straight away.

Instead of staying closer to home, I've decided to go down to London next month to join the Voluntary Aid Detachment, and I'll stay with my Aunt who's always told me I can come down any time. She needs people to fill up that house of hers!

There's also talk that Papa may be called out of retirement to help train the volunteers in the camps as they're running low on capable officers. I don't know what he's decided, but I think Mama thinks it's best if he goes, it's not too far away, and she says she can run the estate well enough when he's gone.

I hope this letter reaches you in time and that you are well. I wish you luck and know that I'll always be thinking of you.

Yours,

Sybil x

Branson sighed when he finished the letter, he should have known she would do something like this. He fully supported her decision, he even admired her for it, but he couldn't help but worry about her. She would be so far away from home. Though he supposed she had no trouble making friends; her optimistic and outgoing nature meant it was impossible not to like her, he knew that from firsthand experience. He knew he shouldn't really worry; it was just that he hoped the war and seeing all the wounded soldiers would not change her.

The next morning he was all packed up and ready to leave. This was it. All the hours of training and shooting and he was finally heading to the front line.

He hoped he could keep his promise to Sybil, but couldn't refrain from wondering whether he was a fool for making it in the first place.