March 30th, 1942

Dear Dorothy,

It's cute how you thought you two lovebirds could keep that piece about Steve secret from me. Plus, I only peeked once, ONCE, no need to use it against me, and the only reason I do it now occasionally is to check up on you, doll. Anyway, sorry for the delay. The mission took longer than expected, but we succeeded. I'm doing alright, a few scratches and bruises, but I should be fine.

Maddox...got a few more scratches and bruises, but he's gonna pull through. Mads also showed me that picture you sent him. I remember that one. When you kissed him under the mistletoe for the first time, right? He'd never admit it to us, but I can tell he's his happiest when he's around you, which is saying a lot since every time joy comes skipping around the corner, he's waiting right there with a baseball bat.

A few of the soldiers down here with us in the 107th tease him for carrying around a photo of you in his pocket, but what you and him have...that's something special. Don't worry, I look out for him out here, and I'll keep on doing it, I swear.

Has Steve written you yet? I know Mads told me you planned on writing to him, but has he written back? I only know about as much as he told, and I can't bribe anymore guards or I might get caught. Mads probably could—hell, he could probably get away with murder if he wanted to, but I don't want him to risk it. Let me know as soon as you hear from him. I worry.

Now that we've got that out of the way, how are you doing, doll? Apart from being away from us, of course. I don't like the idea of you being alone all the time. Hang out with Lydia every once in a while, live a little, and you'd better have some stories to tell us once we get back. I'd send you my love, but Mads would probably prove me right on my theory for sending love to his girl. Either way, we both miss you. We're still fighting over who misses you more but hey, I just hope to see you soon.

From your pal,

Bucky