Author: Nelia

Title: The Way We Were

Summary: The War through Webster's eyes as his and Liebgott's relationship develops. WEBGOTT

Pairings: Webgott mostly, maybe hints of others later

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, they belong to themselves. The Book Band of Brothers belongs to Ambrose and the series to HBO. No money was made.

Rating: Several

Warning: Some swearing, intimate scene's here and there. You will probably find some faults in my spelling.

Notes: This story did not happen, this came from my overactive imagination. Characters are mostly based on the series, so are certain events. Some events did happen I just have them a little twist but I tried to stay true to what really happened.

Prologue: How It All Started:

December 7th 1941, Harvard College, Cambridge, Massachusetts

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother..."

David Kenyon Webster, age 21, couldn't stop staring at those two simply sentences. There was something about it that spoke to him. He knew Shakespeare was a genius, yet he wondered what the man was thinking when he wrote that. He tried to pay attention to what his teacher was telling them about the collective works of Shakespeare but his attention always riveted back to those two sentences.

A cry of "Webster!" made him jump up, head snapping towards his now clearly annoyed teacher. "Pray tell Webster, what's so interesting you didn't hear me call your name the first three times." Looking around Webster could see all eyes were on him and he wondering how long he was zoned out, blushing slightly he stammered trying to explain while in fact he himself had no idea.

"Um, sir, you see…." But he never got to finish because the door to the classroom burst open, revealing a little man, bald and looking panicked yelling "Japan just attacked Pearl Harbour. America joined the war."

Shocked gasps soon filled the room, students looked panicked, not quite believing it. Somehow Webster stayed calm, calmer that he would have thought when he realised that soon every young man will either volunteer or be recruited to join the army. Staring at those two sentences he smiled and realised what he had to do.

The next couple of weeks consisted of arguing with his parents after he told them he was quitting school to volunteer for the army. They didn't understand why he would volunteer to get himself killed while he could continue studying at Harvard, after all they paid a lot of money for his education. Webster argued saying he rather volunteered to join a certain group he chose himself then be placed in a unit he hated, either way he was going. When he explained this to the Dean of Harvard, the man understood and said if and when he should return he could pick up where he left of.

The next problem was choosing a regiment that spoke to him. Luckily 'Life' magazine wrote an article about Paratroopers, their training and their mission. It clearly stated that you had to be the best if you wanted to be a paratrooper. And since Webster wanted to work with the best of the best he decided to go the recruiting office for more information. There, along with some other young men he listened to some sergeant explain everything about the airforce, navy and all the other divisions the army had. Most men were enthusiastic about most of those and volunteered immediately. However when they spoke about the airborne almost no one volunteered, not even when they said they would make 50 dollars more a month. Webster however didn't need more incentive and joined up.

A few weeks later he, and the other volunteers from his town, stepped on a bus that would lead them to basic training before being shipped out to the divisions they joined up for. Saying goodbye to his parents, brother and sister was harder then he thought it would be. When his mother have him a journal he promised he would write as often as he could.

Eight weeks of basic training later, he and some other volunteers where put on a train that would take him to Camp Taccoa, Georgia where his real Paratrooper training would begin. Sitting on a train, writing in his journal, he met someone that would change his life forever.

December 7th 1941, San Francisco

Joseph D. Liebgott, age 24, just received 8.50 dollars for his latest cab fare. Nodding to the man, he put away the money and closed his eyes for a second. It had been a busy day today, more so then usual. Sighing, he reached out and turned on the radio to listen to the news. His eyes snapped them back open when he heard Japan attacked Pearl Harbour, finally waking America up and join the war. The person reading the news continued by asking volunteers to join the army.

Grabbing his steering wheel until his knuckles turned white, Liebgott turned toward his copy of 'Life' magazine lying on the seat beside him. Nodding to himself, he quickly drove off startling his new costumer who was about to step in his cab. He drove to his boss and explained that he was going to volunteer for the army. The man was sad to see him go because Joe was on of his best cabbies. But he would always have a place there, in case he changed his mind or whenever he returned.

The next day, without a word to his parents, Liebgott joined up for the airborne, he wanted to be a paratrooper. He liked the fact that only the best were admitted and the 50 dollars a months more didn't hurt either. When he told his parents, he got mixed reactions, his mother was furious then concerned while his father just nodded. Either way Liebgott didn't care, he was glad to leave. It was either that or marry some nice Jewish girl to finally leave his parents house.

A few weeks later he and the others wrestled themselves through basic training. Some of them didn't make it and were reassigned, others didn't even get to join the army, they were 4-F and were sent back home. Some of the guys took it hard and killed themselves because they couldn't go. Something Liebgott understood all to well.

Some eight weeks later, they were split up and shipped out to their divisions. Liebgott was put on a train filled with eager young men, all in uniform, who wanted to be paratroopers just like him. Wrestling himself between them he found a spot near a window opposite some guy who was scribbling away in what seemed a journal. Finding it kind of girly to see a guy write in a diary he snorted. The sound made the other guy look up. Liebgott was about to comment but something in the others eyes stopped him. He snapped his mouth shut when he realised he must look like an idiot. The other guy just smiled, extending his hand.

"Webster."