Ch. 1

Disclaimer: Hey, y'all! This is my first Band of Brothers fanfiction and I am beyond ecstatic to finally start it. I mean no disrespect to the real Joseph Liebgott or his loved ones nor do I own Band of Brothers, although sometimes I wish I did. I am trying to make this historically accurate so the story takes place in Oakland, Ca, where Liebgott lived and not San Francisco like the show portrayed. There has been some dispute as to whether Liebgott was Jewish or Roman Catholic because his family was raised Catholic but all of the men in Easy said he was Jewish as well as his mother's maiden name being of a Jewish origin: Zimmerman. So, for the purpose of this fanfiction, I am making him Roman Catholic and we will see a little religious side to Liebgott because I really like the idea of Liebgott lighting a candle in a church and murmuring beautiful prayers. I hope you enjoy this fanfiction and comments are very welcome.

Stepping off the troopship that had carried him home, he breathed in the shadows of peace and prosperity, things he hadn't seen in nearly three years. He hoisted his sea bag onto his shoulder and began to walk away. From the ship, the military, the violence, the war. He began to walk away from the War. Many men knelt down to kiss the ground and the soil of their fathers. But not Liebgott. He was just glad to still be breathing. He glanced around to see if there was any change in the city since the day of his leave. Not much had changed, it seemed to appear as such but he knew that things had changed the minute Pearl Harbor was bombed and things were continuing to change. Always. Nothing stayed the same forever, no matter how wonderful it was. People were getting married, having babies, going to college with that GI Bill. Fuck, he thought crudely, they said the Army would give you an education. If the being in the paratroopers was considered education and I got a bloody neck and heart from joining, I don't want any part of it. He decided to try and get his old position back at Manelli's barber shop. His boss, Frank treated him like a son, with his thick black mustache and bright eyes, and so did the rest of the family. His wife, Cleo, was a plump woman about five feet tall with dark thick hair that was always pulled back into a tight bun. She wore a gold crucifix across her neck every day and wore black no matter what occasion it was. As Joe mused over the memories of the good old days, he thought of their feisty and well-endowed daughter, Lea. Her breasts must have been able to fill his hands and maybe more. He took pleasure in watching her strut around the back of the shop, helping her father and helping him, seeing the lines on her nylons stretch as she reached up to grab an extra pair of scissors. He liked the way she smiled at nothing and yet everything all at the same time. Sometimes when Frank or Cleo tried to explain something to Joe but didn't know how to say it in English, she would translate for them. He liked the sound of her voice rising and falling, excitedly and hushed. He liked her, her body, her charisma, that little freckle on the dimple of her right cheek. Was he in love with her? He must have wrestled with that question a thousand times in his head. A thousand more times in his heart. He never had really been in love with a woman. Sure, he'd screw around a bit and kissed more than a few but love? That was something he didn't know much about, a piece of the puzzle he couldn't make fit. She had only been sixteen when he left, goddamn, she was just a kid. A lot could happen in three years. More than he could have ever imagined. He found himself standing in front of Manelli's before realizing, taking a few seconds to process where he was and what he was going to do. He should have gone home first was what he should have done. Say hello to his ma and pop, his siblings if they were there. But he didn't. Joe often found himself doing things he probably should not have been doing.

"Here it fuckin' goes," he murmured under his breath as he pushed the door open to the shop.

The familiar clang of the small brass bell overhead reminded him that he was home. He looked around and was amazed. It was exactly as he had left it. Everything, down to the small crack in the wall next to the coat rack. Goddamn amazing.

"I'll be with you in just a moment," Frank said hurriedly as he snipped the ends of a man's hair.

"No worries, Mr. Manelli, I'll be here all day."

Recognizing the familiar cocky ring to Joe's voice, Frank looked up from his client and saw a smirking Joe. He gave him a toothy grin and almost cut his client's neck from excitement and shock.

"Joseph Liebgott! Joseph Liebgott, is that really you? I cannot believe this! You are back! Back from Europe! You are actually here, Joseph Liebgott! Cleo, Cleo! Lea! Come quick!" his bellowing voice summoned both of them in seconds.

Cleo and Lea screamed in delight and ran to Joe, each kissing one of his cheeks and crushing him into their embrace.

"Dio Mio! Dio Mio! Joseph, is that really you! I cannot believe this! Cannot believe this!" Cleo cried with tears flowing down her face.

Lea looked up at Joe and beamed.

"Welcome home, Joe. I mean it. We- we all missed you so much. I'm so glad- I'm so glad you're home." She stuttered as tears formed on the rims of her eyes.

He was about to wipe them away when a man came through the doorway and asked what was going on.

"Victor, this is Joseph. Joseph Liebgott. He has worked for my husband for many, many years now. He came home from the war." Cleo said excitedly proudly holding onto Joe's arm, showing him off like a son.

"Well, nice to meet you, Joe. I'm Victor-" he began to speak but Lea cut him off.

"Victor, why don't you go in the back and get that freshly brewed coffee out for Joe, I'm sure he could use a cup or two." She suggested as she pushed stray strands of hair out of her face.

"Okay, honey," he replied back with a warm grin on his face.

Cleo and Frank left to go the back room as Frank's client paid and walked out of the shop.

Joe frowned and creased his forehead in confusion. He cocked his head towards Lea and was about to ask why he had called her honey when he noticed the wedding band on her finger. Then it dawned on him. They were married. Fucking married.

"Joe, it was only a few days ago and we didn't know when you were coming back…" Lea murmured to him almost apologetically.

Joe shook it off and gave her the most genuine smile he could.

He turned to her and said in an earnest voice, "I'm happy for you, really, I am."

And he meant it.

He meant it because he realized that he had been in love with Lea Manelli this whole time and he had done nothing about it.

Translation: "Dio Mio" in Italian means "Oh my God" in English.