December 21st, 1944 - Malta

"Package for you Foyle" Andrew blinked in surprise but crossed to collect it as well as 2 letters before returning to the quiet corner of the mess where he had been drinking his tea. There was a letter each from the Reids and Howards and the package was addressed in Dad's familiar writing.

After a moments consideration Andrew put the letters to one side and opened the parcel. The small box was surprisingly full there were 2 wrapped packages that Andrew suspected were books, a Christmas cracker, a pair of socks and a tin which was filled to the brim with biscuits.

He suspected the socks were from Mrs. Reid and when he picked them up he was surprised by how heavy they were. A quick inspection revealed why, a small notebook and a pen were tucked into one sock while the other held 2 carefully folded drawings from Maggie and Gracie as well as two wooden Christmas ornaments; the first was a small spitfire-like plane and the 2nd an intricately carved star.

Shaking his head in disbelief Andrew opened his father's letter.

October 24th, 1944

Dear Andrew,

I'll start by apologizing if this package has somehow made it to you well before Christmas, estimating how long post will take to get anywhere these days is long shot at best. However based on the dates of your letters and when they actually arrive I'm hopeful that this will have found it's way to you sometime around Christmas.

As I mentioned in my last letter you don't have to apologize for not making it home, I've known since you were posted to Malta the only way you would be home for Christmas was if the war was won by then. As things stand at the time of this letter we will just have to hope to be together next year.

Alice and Charles have kindly invited me to join them in London, but unfortunately I can't be away quite that long, I will go over to the Reid for lunch as usual though. The average age of the constables seems to be lower every week and Hugh and I will be doing our best to get as many them home for Christmas as we can.

You've probably seen by now that I had some assistance getting this parcel together; Grace was especially keen to make sure you had everything you needed for a 'proper Christmas' (hence the cracker) and I believe she also wrote to Father Christmas to ensure he knew where he was supposed to deliver your gifts. They're sending you their own letter along with this parcel so I'll let them explain the rest.

You've mentioned that it's quite a young crew there and I sincerely hope their families have also been able to send some things along to make the Christmas away a little easier. That said there I've added a few extra bits and bobs in here in case a few lads have nothing on the day.

Andrew glanced at the package again moving the presents out of the way and saw a pack of cigarettes he knew weren't for him (Dad didn't tell him not to smoke but he didn't encourage it either), a deck of cards and a pair of gloves. He expected Auntie Alice had made them for Dad in the last few years and being Dad he'd just kept wearing his old ones, as he didn't tend to replace things until they had holes that couldn't be darned.

It reminded him of how there was always an extra present or 2 with blank tags under their tree when he was a boy, presents that always vanished by Christmas Eve. It wasn't until he was a teenager that Andrew realized those presents went to Reverend Matthews to be distributed as needed.

You'll be pleased to hear that the Davis' are expecting Peter home on leave over Christmas. Nothing is guaranteed of course but it's been a long time since they were back and Charles tells me the Admiralty does take that into account, so hopefully it comes through.

Other than that I'm afraid I have little news since my last letter, due to the general nature of my cases these days they all seem to be covered by the Official Secrets Act (however loosely).

I hope that you are over that cold you mentioned in your last letter and things have calmed down enough that you and the Wing Co have been able to address those concerns you alluded to. Most of all I hope that you continue to take as much care as you can.

Happy Christmas Andrew, I hope it is as pleasant day as current circumstances allow.

Take care and write when you can,

Dad

Setting the letter aside Andrew pulled the box closer and carefully took everything out one by one. There were two wrapped presents, the socks and gifts from the Reids, the cracker and the extras for the other lads. And then, at the very bottom of the box, only reachable once everything else had been removed, a large envelope with nothing written on it.

Andrew removed it carefully, taking a moment to put everything else back in just in case the siren went suddenly. His tea was tepid now so he finished it in one swallow, placing his mug aside before opening the mystery envelope.

The first thing he noticed was how thick the paper was and when he flipped it over his breath caught painfully in his chest. It was a pencil sketch, likely a rough draft of what Mum had intended to paint, but that stretch of river was so familiar Andrew felt sure he would recognize it in any medium. He would certainly always recognize the silhouette of his father, fishing rod in hand, and beside him himself as a boy of 10 or 11, net over one shoulder likely trying and failing not to talk Dad's ear off.

His vision was suddenly blurry and Andrew knew it had nothing to do with this cold he couldn't seem to shake. Afraid of doing anything to damage the drawing he went to slip it back into the envelope and noticed he'd missed the note that was tucked in with it.

He had to wipe his eyes before he could read it. Andrew, found this when I was looking through older things for salvage. I wanted you to have it and know your Mum would have as well. She would be so proud of you – Dad

The tears were falling faster than he could blink them back and Andrew turned in his chair so his face was hidden from the rest of the mess. He had often wondered what his Mother would think of different events and never more frequently than since he'd enlisted. He hadn't mentioned it to Dad, but somehow he had known anyway and Andrew swallowed hard, incredibly grateful for how well his father knew him.

Some days he was so tired and the war felt so interminable that he could hardly remember the years before it, as if they'd never happened. Yet, when he looked at the sketch the memories flooded back; days spent playing with his friends and coming home for tea muddy and wind swept, standing in the river with Dad on Saturdays while Mum sat sketching by a tree. Each memory a reminder of what they were fighting for, a future where the main concerns of childhood were once again games of tag and sport as opposed to air raids and invasion.

It took several minutes before he was able to compose himself again and as he used his sleeve to dry his eyes he could almost hear his father chiding him to us a handkerchief. It was enough to make him smile and he very carefully slid the drawing back into the envelope, emptying the box again so he could place it safely at the bottom again.

He didn't feel quite up to facing anyone yet though so instead of getting more tea he opened the letter from the Reids' knowing that it was bound to make him smile.

October 23rd, 1944

Dear Andrew,

Happy Christmas! It feels quite odd to be writing that in late October but hopefully it will be seasonal by the time you are actually reading this letter.

We are so glad your father told us he was sending this parcel so we had time to add to it. The girls were a little confused by how early we needed to send your presents but Hugh showed them again how far away Malta is and they both agreed it was much better send it too early than too late.

They are both well and thankfully still enjoying school although Grace has recently started to share your opinion of maths. Maggie is especially fond of music at the moment and Hugh and I are considering signing her up for piano lessons.

Your father and Hugh are both well although they are quite busy especially as the constables are almost all straight out of training and honestly most of them barely look like they've finished school.

We try and have your father over at least once a week for supper and he and Hugh still go to the river as work allows. You can't expect him not worry about you Andrew, but he's carrying on as well as the next person and the girls seem to feel it's their responsibility to make sure he receives at least 4 hugs a week.

Please let us know if there is anything you or your squadron mates need. You are always in our prayers and we cannot wait to see you once the war is won.

Nancy and Hugh

Andrew smiled as he set the letter aside, he had been confident that the Reids would be keeping an eye on Dad but it was still nice to hear it and he knew how much a hug from Maggie or Grace could improve even the most challenging day.

As he'd expected there were 2 more sheets of paper in the envelope and he reached for the first one. Smiling as he saw Maggie's familiar script, which was now somewhere between printing and handwriting.

Dear Andrew,

Mummy and Mr. Foyle say we have to send your Christmas presents very early because post takes a very long time to get to Malta.

Daddy showed us Malta on the map and explained that it would be too far to come on such a short amount of leave. I wish you could come home for Christmas but I understand that it's too far and that you have to stay and help your friends keep everyone safe.

Can you please tell your friends that we say thank you? I'm sure they are sad they can't come home either but maybe it will help if they know we're grateful and always remember them in our prayers.

We see Mr. Foyle almost every week and sometimes he and Daddy take turns reading aloud. If we read our chapter book Daddy usually does the reading but if we read a few shorter books instead then Mr. Foyle usually reads one. He doesn't always do voices like you do but he will if Gracie asks.

We are starting to read chapter books at school and we have to write more too, sometimes 2-3 pages. I just started working on long division in maths, I'm not very good at it yet but Daddy and Mummy say it just take practice.

I hope the package gets to you for Christmas and you and your friends don't have to shoot down any bad planes that day. I also hope you and your friends have a Christmas tree for the ornaments. I thought the star was very pretty and I liked that stars are part of Hanukkah decorations too; Daddy says it's very important to be accepting of different religions and traditions because that's part of what makes the world so interesting.

Happy Christmas Andrew, I can't wait for you to come home again. Please be very careful flying your plane.

Love,

Maggie

P.S. I'll give your Dad a hug from you on Christmas, just like before, so don't worry if your present to him doesn't come on time.

There were tears pricking his eyes again as he set Maggie's letter aside. It was clear just how much she had matured in the last few years, and while he hated that the war had forced her to grow up more quickly, he was also incredibly proud of the person she was growing up to be.

Dear Andrew,

Happy Christmas! Mummy and Daddy say that we need to send our presents to you now, even though Christmas is still 2 months away, because Malta is so far away. Daddy showed us where it was on the map and it looks very small. Can you see the ocean all the time there?

Maggie and I helped Mummy make the biscuits! We made gingerbread because Mummy says it carries well, which means it will still be yummy when it get to you. We put as many in the tin as we could so you could share them with your friends.

I really wish that you could come home for Christmas but Daddy said it's too far to come and that the King still needs you to shoot down the bad planes. I asked Mr. Foyle if we could write to the King and ask if you could come home for a visit but he said that the RAF didn't work like that.

I know you and your friends are being very brave and I'm very grateful that you are keeping us all safe but I still miss you lots. Mr. Foyle misses you too but I always give him hugs when he comes to dinner and Maggie or I sit with him when Daddy is reading. We are almost finished Ballet Shoes so I hope that Father Christmas brings us a new book to read.

We are doing harder maths now and I don't like it. Mummy and Daddy say they're still important to learn even if I don't like them. Sometimes if I have to do my maths on Sunday Mr. Foyle helps me while Mummy is making tea, he says he used to help you too.

Andrew grinned at that, he would always remember the evenings spent at the dinning room table while Dad patiently helped him wrestle with his maths revision. He hoped for Dad's sake Grace wasn't quite so stubbornly opposed to the subject as he had been.

We haven't put up our Christmas tree yet but Mummy says it will be time when you get this letter, which is why Maggie and I are sending you special ornaments as well as drawings as your present. I hope your friends get ornaments too so your tree is full of happy things.

I hope you have a very Happy Christmas Andrew and that you can come home soon. Be safe and please tell your friends to be safe too (we ask God to keep you all safe every night).

Love,

Gracie

P.S. I wrote to Father Christmas so he knows you are on Malta and that he will need to bring your presents there

Andrew swallowed hard as he put the letter aside and picked up the drawings instead. When he compared them to the ones Maggie and Gracie had given him when he was first detached to a squadron it was very clear just how much they had grown up and subsequently how long the war had been going for.

Before he could follow that less than cheerful thought any further Andrew pulled out the ornaments Maggie and Grace had sent. The plane was actually quite a good rendering of a spitfire and he knew the lads would enjoy that. The star was beautiful and while it had 5 points not 6 Andrew knew it would always remind him of Aaron. Maggie had never met Aaron but he was very proud of her maturity in recognizing that Christmas wasn't the only thing being celebrated at this time of year.

Still smiling he got to his feet, grabbing his empty mug with his free hand and crossed to the small shrub that was serving as their Christmas tree. After carefully adding the ornaments Andrew got himself a fresh cup of tea, checking on a few of the lads in the process before retreating back to his table.

It felt like he was on borrowed time, given how long it had been since the last scramble, and Andrew took a long drink of tea before reaching for the final letter. Wondering again just how long it had taken Dad to get it all organized. The Reids would have been fairly straightforward but unless Dad had gone to London Auntie Alice and Uncle Charles would have had to send their letter and parcel to Hastings first.

He remembered how Mum used to send things onto Auntie Alice to add to parcels for Uncle Charles when he was deployed. He hoped that they had filled Uncle Charles with the same warmth that this one had.

October 18, 1944

Dear Andrew,

Happy Christmas! I think your uncle was in Cairo the last time I sent a Christmas parcel this early.

We are both well, Charles is very busy at the admiralty so I'm lucky if he's home 3 nights a week but it can't be helped. My war work keeps me busy as well which I am grateful for, it's much better than sitting at home waiting for news.

We did invite your father for Christmas but given how determined he is to try and get the majority of the constables home for the holiday he is needed in Hastings. He has assured us that he will be having Christmas lunch with the Reids though and we will try to have him over the next time he is in London.

Please tell me if you or any of the rest of your squadron needs anything, I did ask your father but he said you hadn't mentioned anything. I know you don't like to ask for things for yourself Andrew, but in many ways it helps us as much as it does you for it gives us a way to help even when we are so far away.

I hope your first Mediterranean Christmas is a merry one, and you have all found something to act as a Christmas tree. We cannot wait to have you home again.

Stay safe and know you are always in our thoughts and prayers.

Will all my love,

Auntie Alice

Dear Andrew,

Happy Christmas! It is very different to be on this end of things now and it makes me appreciate those parcels I received at sea in a completely different way.

How are you finding Malta? You mentioned in one of your first letters that you found the sea almost too bright; I have to agree, it's the most dazzling water I've ever sailed on but I'd still rather be in English waters.

As your aunt mentioned, we are busy but well, and I remain hopeful that we might finally be in the home stretch. I suspect you are rolling year eyes at that last line but as there are things that I can't discuss here all I will say is this war shall end, just as the one before it did, and I firmly believe it shall also end victoriously.

I know I have rarely spoken about the Great War with you Andrew but I know how isolating command can be especially with a less experienced crew and I hope you know I am always here to listen and offer whatever advice I can.

On that note: it is not your fault when operations go poorly Andrew. The rank on your shoulder does not give you an ability to control the outcome. I want you to read that as many times as it takes to sink in, and every time you find yourself doubting it. It is one of the hardest lessons of command and one I find myself revisiting frequently.

Your father isn't able to join us for Christmas but I do speak to him fairly regularly and despite being undermanned and therefore quite busy he is well. He does come to London occasionally for meetings so I will try to bring him home for dinner the next time he's up.

I hope you have as happy as Christmas as possible and they rustle up something better than the average rations for dinner (remind me to tell you the story about the pig when you're home).

Fair winds and following skies Andrew.

Your affectionate uncle,

Charles

Andrew ran a hand over his face, eyes returning the middle of his uncle's letter, "The rank on your shoulder does not give you an ability to control the outcome" If he wished for anything besides an end of the war it would be that, the ability to make sure they all came back each time but he knew his uncle was right.

Every Wing Co he'd ever had, had told them that at some point, even well before he got promoted but there was something about hearing it from his uncle. A man who had looked up too all his life and one would had worn the mantle of command for years and still did, who truly knew how heavy it was.

It was a gift he wouldn't have thought was possible but as Andrew read his uncle's words again the weight on his shoulders felt lighter for the first time since he got to Malta, possibly longer. Despite being thousands of miles from home and in the middle of a war as he looked at the letters and gifts in front of him Andrew had rarely felt more loved; it was as if they had bridged the distance and wrapped him in a hug.