Anamnesis [Lacuna #2] {Completed}

Chapter Seven

"Ubuntu (n.) the belief that we are defined by our compassion and kindness towards others"

July 1943

Dear Bucky,

Has it really been only a month since you left? It feels much, much longer. The house is so empty now that you're gone, but I know Mother and Father would be proud.

I hope you aren't getting into too much trouble over there. No doubt Hitler and all of Europe had no idea what was coming for them when you set out on your journey. I'm glad to hear you've seen your old friends and made new ones. Matthew sounds like an amazing man to have at your side.

If you haven't received word yet, Steve took your advice and decided to help out with the war effort in a different way. Apparently, he's now the new symbol of hope for America (I have no idea, don't ask me). I'm not exactly sure what he got himself into or how, but his "show" has sold out in more than 13 different cities and continues to grow. Because of this, I haven't seen much of him lately either, but I know he misses you just as much as I do and still wishes he was over seas fighting beside you.

I pray constantly for your safety and return. I feel better knowing you have good men fighting with you.

Love Always,

Rebecca

Bucky clutched the letter from his sister in his hands, the rain pouring down half a foot from where he sat under the brush of a tree.

Besides Steve, his sister was the person he missed the most. Bucky had been fresh out of high school when their father died, leaving him as the man of the house. Rebecca had been in 9th grade at the time, but she had acted so much older than the scared 15-year-old Bucky knew she was trying to hide.

When their mother died four years later, Rebecca was the only family Bucky had left. Before he had been drafted, she was the one thing that kept him from voluntarily enlisting himself. She never asked him to stay. He had been selfish enough to think that, that was what she wanted

Then he had been drafted. She didn't cry or try to figure a way to convince him to get himself out of it. When he sat her down at the kitchen table that night he received word and he told her, her eyes were dry, fierce, and proud. She simply took his hand and nodded her head. "Well," she had said, "At least we'll finally win the war now."

Bucky had laughed at her then, but there was no joke in her eyes. She truly believed he would make all the difference and Bucky remembered thinking she looked exactly like their mother. He wasn't sure he had loved anyone more than in that moment.

The first few weeks in Europe had been hard. Letters were scarce because the infantry was constantly on the move and news from home was even harder to come by. Most nights they slept on hard ground or uncomfortable tent cots, if nightmares even allowed them any rest at all.

Over the last several weeks the 107th began their mission to handle Wehrmacht and HYDRA on the Italian front, slowly pushing them back towards the North. Mile by mile they drove them back, but to Bucky, every mile felt more like an inch. Once they seemed to get somewhere, they were either pushed back to where they started, or only gained half of what they hoped. Bucky sometimes looked out at the horizon and wondered if it would ever end no matter how far they pushed.

The more days past, the more men they began to lose. Most of them were men Bucky didn't especially know, but it still stung all the same. The surviving men were growing tired and their spirits were low. How many more months could they handle this mentally and physically? How much more could Bucky take?