December 22nd, 1943

Dearest Bea,

It's okay, Bea. I don't blame you for being upset. You should have seen how upset I was before Steve busted us loose when I realized that they had likely sent you a letter about us all going missing. I know it can't compare, but maybe it'll help you feel a little better about what happened.

I got the package Mom sent for Christmas and there was a card in there from all of you. And her letter too! Danny got married? Damn, Bea. I can hardly believe it. I figured he and Abigail would tie the knot eventually, but that took me a bit by surprise. And I went and got captured and ruined it. I know I've said it already, but I don't think I can stop. I'm so sorry, Bea. Can you pass that on to Danny? I already said it in my letter to him, but it doesn't feel like enough. I feel horrible that what should have been such a happy occasion got overshadowed by what happened to me.

I can't believe it's Christmas already. So much has happened since last year. I was called up, went to basic. Then I was shipped out. And now here I am, on the way back to London after a mission, sitting next to Steve—which I still can't quite believe—while a couple of the guys are singing Christmas carols and mangling them horribly. Though, that may be on purpose. It's fun, I'll admit, but not as much fun as Christmas at home. You know? It'll definitely be strange not seeing the tree in the City this year. You say there are three? I bet it was real pretty. I'm not afraid to admit it right now, Bea. But knowing that it's Christmas and that I'm not going to be with you all? It's enough to make even me a little homesick.

I hope I can count on you to give Mom an extra hug for me. And Jack too. But next Christmas we'll be home for sure!

I hope you remembered to drink some extra cocoa for me! And ate lots of Mom's cookies. She sent a tin of them in her Christmas package, but as good as they were, it wasn't quite the same as having them fresh out of the oven at home.

And Bea? Don't tell Mom that I cussed in my letter to you. She'll never let me hear the end of it...

I miss all of you. Give Mom a kiss for me!

Merry Christmas, Bumblebee.

Bucky

Dec. 28th, 1943 - P.S.

I suppose it's a good thing I wasn't able to post this letter right away, or else I would've sent it off before I got your Christmas letter. You're right! The comics are just too funny. You should have seen Steve's face when I showed him! He got all pink and grumpy. I wish you could have seen it. And when the rest of the guys in our team caught wind of it? I don't think Steve's talking to me again yet. He'll get over it, though. I'm pretty sure he was trying not to laugh about it when I first showed him, despite his embarrassment.

He's sorry, by the way. He promised that he's going to send you a letter apologizing for keeping secrets and I intend to hold him to that. So let me know if you haven't gotten one in your next letter.

And you're not a horrible sister. You had a lot on your plate with everything I put you through. Even Mom's mention of it was in a postscript. It sounds like it was a wonderful wedding even if it was last minute. I bet you looked beautiful, Bea. All grown up, I bet. I'm sorry I missed it.

It'll definitely be after Christmas now before you get this, so I hope you had a wonderful Christmas. It actually wasn't too bad here. The food wasn't great, but still better than on the Front, and our team went out and joined the Divisions for a bit of an impromptu Christmas Eve service and carols. It was really something, Bea, with all these men—a couple hundred, at least—all singing Christmas songs together. It was almost enough to make us forget there was a war going on.

I hope you all like the presents I'm sending along with this letter. It's why I didn't send it off right away. I wanted to try and get you all something and that's a lot harder to do on the Front than in London, after all.

I'm afraid letters are likely going to be thin on the ground again, Bea. Because of what we're doing with Steve, getting the supplies to write isn't as much of a problem anymore, but the time certainly is. Plus there will likely be times when it's a week or two before we can even receive mail, much less send it out. We've got a lot to do. Apparently we're calling ourselves the Howling Commandos, now. It's a pretty good name, don't you think? And the guys aren't bad, either. You'll know a couple of them from my other letters to you and Mom. Dum Dum's one, and Gabe Jones is another. There are a couple new guys too. Jim's from the States like us, while Monty's British and Jacques is French Resistance. They're still a bunch of idiots—that hasn't changed—but they're good men and we make a pretty good team, Bea. So you don't have to worry there.

But I won't lie to you and say it's any less dangerous than being on the Front with the rest of the Army. If anything, it's even more dangerous. But it's really important, Bea. And it's something I have to do. It's the right thing to do. I hope you'll understand, I really do. But I also understand if you get mad at me again because of it.

I love you, Bea. And Mom and Jack and Danny. I miss you all like crazy, but I'm sure the War will be over soon. Especially now that Steve and I are here together!

Happy New Year, Bumblebee.

Bucky

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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