'shall ne'er go by from this day until the ending of the world but we in it shall be remembered. We few, we happy few, we band of brothers, For he today who sheds his blood with me shall be my brother.'

-Henry V

I would like to state that I do not own HBO's Band of Brothers nor do I intend any disrespect. I am basing this story on the HBO mini TV series.

Sometimes we're holding angels
And we never even know
Don't know if we'll make it,
But we know,
We just can't let it show

Ross Copperman - Holding On And Letting Go

Chapter One

Her father leaned back against the chair exhaling loudly. 'Rosaline,' he started looking at her with sympathy, 'They're saying no.'

Rose looked down, unwilling to accept his pity and latched her hands behind her back like she used to when she was a child.

'They could always change their minds.' She murmured, studying the oriental carpet beneath her feet.

'I don't think so.' Came the answer, 'not this time.'

'I know why you think you need to do this,' his voice was low and urgent as he tried to convince her, 'But Jame-...he wouldn't want you to do this.

'Its not just him sir,' Rose protested, her head snapping up, 'its what you've always said to us… it's better to die on your feet than to live on your knees.'

Rose knew something had happened as soon as she set eyes on her father weeks later. For every day that she was old enough to remember, Samuel Barker's routine when he returned home from the office had never altered. There were two exceptions that Rose could remember and she wished desperately that she couldn't…that she had no recollection of either day. The first afternoon had resulted in her father breaking the news that her mother wouldn't be coming home and the second afternoon had been the day that they had received the telegram about her brother James. On this day however, when Samuel walked into the room, his face ashen and aged, Rose had gotten to her feet with a feeling of trepidation in the pit of her stomach. He had stopped at the sight of Rose and had spent a long minute staring hard at her. Rose had been too afraid to ask what had happened, too afraid to hope.

'The board has agreed.' Came her father's quiet voice, deep with strain and some emotion that Rose could not identify. 'You ship out Friday.'

Rose's mouth had fallen open in shock and she had fallen heavily back into her chair. When she had looked up again, Samuel had gone.

Visitors had come that night. Rose had been sitting alone in the kitchen, wearily sipping a cup of coffee. The house was quiet as darkness began to fall, moonlight beginning to stream through the windows. Like most nights Rose had been unable to sleep. She had tried at first, but nightmares had woken her up night after night, pictures from the newspaper clippings which depicted the horror of what had occurred at Pearl Harbour only months ago. While she couldn't quite remember exactly what her dreams were about, she could remember all the blood…blood and screaming. Draining her coffee cup, Rose stood up from the table and made her way to the sink intending to make another, flipping the light switch on so that she could see what she was doing. She had barely sat down with a fresh mug of steaming coffee when a sharp knock at the kitchen door sounded. Rose had just blinked at the closed door for a moment, swearing to herself that she had imagined things and that hearing noises was one of the first warning signs to madness when the sound of knuckles rapping on the door filled the kitchen. Lurching to her feet and clutching her dressing gown around herself tighter, Rose cracked open the door, peering out into the night.

'So sorry to bother you so late dear,' came a familiar voice, making Rose inwardly groaned. 'But I saw that your light was on and I knew that I just had to come over to check that you and your father were okay.'

Rose stepped aside to let two figures bustle into the room. They were the next door neighbours, a pair of elderly sisters who had lived in the large house adjoining theirs since Rose was still in diapers. They thrived on gossip and were one of first to come knocking on the door when news of James got out. They were also the last to leave, her father nearly having to bodily remove them from the house.

'We're okay,' Rose shut the door behind her, 'I was just getting ready for bed actually.' She said pointedly.

Not taking the hint, the elder sister Sarah moved forward to grasp Rose's limp hand.

'We just get so worried about you here all by yourself dear.'

Rose pulled her hand away, feeling frazzled. 'I'm not alone. I have father here.'

Olive, the other sister nodded and gave Rose a withering look. 'Oh of course you do dear. But when we think of you all alone without a mother figure to help you along…' she broke off with a loud sniff and dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief.

'What?' Rose was bewildered and she looked back and forth from one sister to the other.

'We're worried about you Rosaline dear.' Sarah spoke up, placing great emphasis on the word 'worried.'

Rose snapped. She was tired. Tired of it all. 'Well I don't want to keep you out in the cold,' Rose murmured as she opened the door, her patience nearing her limits as she ushered the women out the door. 'Thank you so much for coming to check on us. As you can see, I am just fine. I will let father know that you dropped by.'

'Your mother often let us help her out when it got a little too much.' Olive spoke reproachfully, 'she was such a good woman. She'd want us to do the same for you.'

Sarah nodded, 'You should let us help you Rosaline dear,'

Rose turned in the doorway to face her neighbours. 'I'm not mother.' She murmured bitterly, 'I've been trying hard to fill the role for you people. But not tonight. I'm too god damn tired.' She ignored the outraged gasps and whispers as she crossed the room, desperate to get out as she pushed through the door, trying with all her might to refrain from slamming it behind her like she so desperately wanted.

At first, for the first week after the telegram, she had pretended not to notice the emptiness. The silence that had seeped through the very foundations of the house. Her insides were chaotic with panic and grief. She didn't know how to exist in a world without her brother. But the clenching of her insides didn't matter- only the outside mattered today. Putting on a good show was something that Rose knew was expected of her. It was something that she had to attempt and master. And she had failed. She had embarrassed herself and her family.

Rose stood uncertainly in the dark hallway for a moment. When the news of the telegram had gotten out, people had flocked to the family home wanting to know how they could help -all offering their condolences for James. Rose hated them all. Her childhood friends asked her what she needed and when Rose asked for solitude, they only hugged her harder. Her father eventually turned their friends and relatives away and Rose realised that the silence of the big house did not make the pain any less intense. The memories of her brother and their childhood echoed through the hallways, relentless. After being unexpectedly invaded by the well-wishing sisters, Rose had not been ready for their sympathetic glances and soft words of pity and in the wake of this recent attack, standing in the dark, quiet corridor away from the brightness of the kitchen and the company of strangers, Rose felt her eyes prickle with tears. Slowly, deliberately, she wiped her eyes with the pad of her thumb and started to make her way towards the staircase which led to her father's study. Each step took her closer and she felt like she was being propelled by the touch of a ghost.

Rose crept down the richly carpeted hallway, her feet making no sound as she padded towards the end door which was slightly ajar, throwing a slice of light onto the dark carpet. As she drew nearer, Rose pressed herself against the doorframe and peeked through the gap left by the open door. Her father's study was filled with cigar smoke and the stench of alcohol. She could see her father slumped in his brown leather armchair, an empty brandy decanter on the table in front of him. He wasn't making a sound and Rose leaned forward for a better look at what he was doing. For a moment, Rose thought that he was sleeping – passed out from his alcohol but when he suddenly shifted slightly in his seat, Rose felt her eyes widen, recognising what objects her father held in his hands. Dog tags. Rose inhaled sharply, knowing without a shred of doubt that the dog tags had belonged to her brother. There was only one metal disc, she knew that much. James had been buried with one in Pearl Harbour and the other was grasped in her father's tight grip. Her father was also holding a framed photograph, the dog tags resting against the glass of the frame.

Rose remembered when that portrait had been taken. Her father had been absent –working as per usual. But her mother had laughed and demanded that the photographer still take a photograph of herself, Rose and James together. It was a candid shot, all three of them had wide happy smiles on their faces and her mother upon seeing it had insisted for it to be framed and hung on the study wall immediately. It had been years since Rose had actually stepped foot inside her father's dark study… there had been no need for her to even come and linger in the doorway as she did now. But the sight of that photograph clutched in her father's hands with her brother's dog tags made fear grip her throat tightly and Rose turned away, unable to watch her father's shoulders shudder as he wept.

The week had passed swiftly and Rose was almost glad when Friday morning dawned. She and her father had spent the week avoiding each other, speaking politely when they found themselves in the same room. Rose had finished packing up her bedroom and she spent the last few moments that she knew she had, standing in the middle of her room listening to echoes of memories. Rose spared once last glance around her bedroom, searing the image into her brain. She was almost happy to be leaving the house. There were so many memories in this place...so much heartbreak, so many tears.

'Rosaline,' her father's strong voice floated from downstairs. 'It's time to go.'

Heaving a deep sigh, Rose picked up her small carpet bag and walked out of her room, closing her door behind her. Rose couldn't shake the feeling that she had just closed more than just a door…she had just taken her first steps down a path that she knew she couldn't return from.

As she joined her father at the bottom of the stairs, her gave her one searching glance. Rose didn't dare look into his eyes, fearing that they might give her away…that they might reveal her doubts about what she was about to do.

'Ready?' he asked and Rose knew that his meaning stretched further than the inquiry into whether she had remembered to pack all the necessities. She was only able to nod back at him, her throat too dry with fear to speak. Samuel chose not to say anything more, an action which Rose was thankful for. There was nothing left for either of them to say…there were no words to make any of it better. So they both fell into silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

They travelled by taxi to the Central train station but they had arrived too early and were forced to wait. After standing uncomfortably next to each other, Samuel had suggested a short stroll in the adjoining park to pass the time while they waited.

They walked in silence for a while before finding a small wooden bench for them to sit on. The bench faced out onto a small paved quadrangle which was framed by large green trees. It was a pretty view and Rose perched herself on the bench, admiring the beauty of her surroundings. After a moment's hesitation, Samuel joined her, sitting down slowly and stretching out his stiff leg. Rose watched him absently massage the top of his thigh for a moment, knowing that his old wound from the Great War often ached in the cold.

'I still don't understand why you're doing this Rosaline.' Samuel broke the silence between them as he spoke tightly, his mouth turned downwards.

Rose looked down at her feet, studying her pretty sky blue pumps and comparing them to the large, neat military shoes of her father.

'I want to do this,' she said quietly, her eyes still cast downwards; 'I can do this.'

Her words seemed to echo as they lapsed into silence. Across the quadrangle Rose could hear the shrieks and screams of laughter and her eyes lifted to watch as children chased each other around the playground. She watched entranced as their young faces showed the joy and excitement of their game…completely unaware of the panic and perils of the world around them. This joy contrasted sharply to the grim expressions on their parents faces as they watched their children play.

'Can I give you some advice then,' his gruff voice speaking over the noise and Rose jumped slightly, her concentration broken.

'Of course.' Came her quick reply as she turned slightly to face him.

'Do not make yourself noticeable,' he broke off and his cheeks coloured slightly. Rose watched fascinated as her father struggled to voice his next words. 'More noticeable than you already will be. Do not speak unless spoken to and perform what is expected and no more.'

'Yes father.'

'God knows it will not be easy for you.'

'Yes father.'

Rose blinked as her father coughed uncomfortably, 'never trust someone else to protect you, and never forget that every choice you make is on you.' He spoke gruffly, 'but there are rules in place and Colonel Sink's a good man. You will be watched and your actions scrutinised.'

Rose nodded to let him know that she understood, but in reality, she understood nothing. She was terrified. What the hell was she doing? Her musings were interrupted by her father who reached into his shirt pocket for a small object and held it out for Rose.

'Take it.' He snapped, gesturing his open palm towards in an order for her take what he was offering. Rose's eyes were wide as saucers as she stared down at a small locket on a silver chain held in his father's hand. She had seen the piece of jewellery before. Many times.

'It was your mothers.' His tone softened as Rose lifted the locket out of his outstretched hand. 'I took the liberty of putting James' photograph inside. It's just a small trinket to remind you of home.'

Rose could feel tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as she reached up and fixed the clasp around her neck, feeling the cool metal against the skin of her collarbone and she cleared her throat. 'I'll miss you too.' She said, finally able to understand what she knew her father couldn't voice. She reached out and wrapped her gloved fingers around his hand tightly. 'I'll do you proud.'

Samuel coughed uncomfortably and turned back to watch the children. Rose watched his face for a moment as they sat there in the diminishing light of the early evening. She wanted to memorise his face so as to never forget it.

'I know.' He spoke quietly, unable to look at her.

Rose said nothing. All the words that she could have possibly said seemed frozen on her tongue.

They sat in silence, watching the children play, neither wanting to be the one to break the silence that had stretched between them. It wasn't until the last child had been bundled home, out of the cold night air that Samuel glanced at his watch. Rose followed his movements with her eyes, knowing that it was time for her to go. She watched him pat his pockets absently as if unsure what to do with hands before getting slowly to his feet. Rose rose to face him, terrified that this moment had arrived. The moment she would have to say goodbye.

'so, this is it then.' Her father cleared his throat gruffly and affixed his eyes on a point somewhere over her left shoulder.

'Yes.' Rose said softly and she knew she should have been moving, that if she didn't leave in the next few moments, she would miss her train. But her body somehow wouldn't obey her. Her eyes were glued onto his face. The man in front of her was the only family that she had left in the world. She took in his tired face and the dark circles under his eyes which contrasted strangely with his crisp ironed uniform. She was suddenly overwhelmed with fear and she began to open her mouth to tell him to take her home, to forget her moment of insanity.

But as the words began to leave her throat, she saw his eyes flicker downwards to where her locket lay against her collarbone. Her breath hitched as her fingers reached up to clasp the metal and the words died in her throat. James. This was the reason that she needed to do this. All of sudden, all of the doubt and anxiety disappeared and she was left with a feeling of determination.

'Goodbye Rosaline.' Her father's words were quiet and tightly controlled and before Rose knew what she was doing, she lurched forward and threw her arms around him, breathing in his unique scent that made her feel instantly homesick. She felt him stiffen in her arms and Rose withdrew sadly. She tried to push away the thought that this moment could be the last time that they'd ever see each other and she brushed at her coat absently with her gloved hand.

'Goodbye father.' She murmured and took a deep breath. Exhaling heavily, Rose made the move to turn to pick up her carpet bag but a sudden movement in front of her made her eyes flick back to her father. The sight that greeted her made a lump appear in her throat, making it hard to swallow. Her father, in all of his decorated glory, had snapped a sharp salute to her. Rose knew enough to know that a man of his rank never saluted a private who was wearing civilian clothing.

'No no no. Absolutely not. No way am I training a woman for combat.'

At these words, Rose ducked her head, her cheeks flaming from embarrassment and anger. She knew that she had to expect rejection but sitting quietly outside Colonel Sink's office while waiting to be called to attention she could hear everything that was being discussed in the next room. And frankly it hurt. She knew that her situation would be a delicate one but hearing the shouts floating through the door was the first time that it had been vocalised so strongly in her presence. Even her father and the military board who had finally accepted her application to join the 101st Airborne Paratroopers had sugar coated and censored their true opinion. But it seemed as though whoever was discussing her in Colonel Sink's office did not hesitate nor hold back on voicing his opinion.

It had been a long couple of weeks since she had said goodbye to her father. She had been shipped off to Georgia with one of the enlistment officers as a chaperone. For the whole six hour train ride, Rose had been torn between feeling desperately homesick as every passing mile put her old home and old life firmly behind her, and uncomfortable at the constant presence of the enlistment officer who did not do much except alternate between watching her every move and reading a well-worn Time magazine. As soon as they had stepped off the train, she had been whisked off to the military base to undergo various tests, examinations and interviews. After being judged acceptable, it was then time for her medical examination. She didn't know who had been more uncomfortable – her or the medical officer who had to deem her medically fit for duty. There had been a few tense moments when her body had to be checked for rashes, wounds or deformities of any kind. Rose had blushed to the roots of her hair and the doctor had called in a nurse who gave Rose a quick one over. The doctor, a young officer, had fixed his eyes on the opposite wall, his face a bright red colour that could rival Rose's blush. The nurse, after telling Rose that she could redress herself had taken one look at the both of them and rolled her eyes, muttering as she left the room about sensibilities in a time of war. But before Rose had time to think, her papers had been stamped and she was given her immunisation shots – in each arm thanks to the intervention of her enlistment officer chaperone. As a supply officer handed her a set of her very own dog tags and a bright green uniform, Rose blinked back tears, completely overwhelmed with the whole process and the fact that she was now officially a part of the United States military. All that was left for her was to train to go to war. Only days later, she had been put onto a bus headed for Camp Toccoa, a military boot camp for the Airborne that was situated in the shadow of Mount Currahee. She had barely time to stare up at the intimidating incline after stumbling off of the bus before being summoned to Battalion Headquarters.

Rosaline Barker was currently sitting outside of Colonel Sink's office fiddling nervously with a silver locket around her neck. She was waiting to be briefed and it appeared that someone else was being told about her 'situation'. And judging by the tone of his voice, he clearly wasn't happy about it. Rose could understand that; it took weeks of convincing her father, the General, to even consider her decision. And then it took four months of him convincing and using all the connections that he had for the defence board to make the changes. She was an 'experiment' they said; for her to disprove the wide belief that women couldn't fight for their country and to gain support for the war effort. America had always had a firm isolation policy that had been reinforced by public opinion. The idea of America going to help fight an enemy on the other side of the war was not a popular notion and she was told that her unique position would help rise morale on the home front. After Pearl Harbour, the situation had drastically improved but many were still reluctant to enter into another World War. Rose knew that the military board did not believe that she would succeed, maybe did not even want her to succeed. It was, Rose thought, really just to get her father, General Barker off of their backs.

The door slamming pulled her out of her thoughts and Rose looked up with a start to see an officer with dark eyes and hair stalk past her with a glare.

'Great, I haven't even started yet and I'm already in hot water' she thought to herself as 'Miss Barker' came floating through Sink's closed office door.

'So let me get this straight sir, I'm going to be trained separately from the rest of the company?' Rose asked incredulously, unable to comprehend what the weathered colonel in front of her was saying. She had been told over and over throughout the enlistment process that under no circumstances would she be receiving special treatment of any kind. Her father had stressed the point so many times that upon hearing Colonel Sink's proposal for her introduction into boot camp, she could only blink at him for a moment, unable to understand what he was trying to tell her.

'Its only temporary miss…er..Private Barker, you will be trained separately under Lieutenant Sobel until he sees fit to rejoin you with the rest of the men. They've been training for 3 weeks now and we just want to get you up to speed. Lieutenant Sobel ..er, will train you hard and fairly just like any of the other men.' Sink was quick to correct. He didn't know what to make of this pretty young woman, dressed in civilian clothing, standing at ease in front of him. His eyes raked her appearance and he mentally shook his head, cursing the military board and this young chit's father. Was that a necklace around her neck? Colonel Sink's eyes widened slightly in amazement at the sight of a dainty locket resting on the girl's collarbone. He cleared his throat and shook his head in disbelief, his eyes watching carefully as the girl opened her mouth, an unhappy expression on her pale face.

'Yes, sir.' She said quietly, surprising Colonel Sink once more. He had expected tears, tantrums or arguments but was flabbergasted at the girl's lack of response. Flabbergasted and to be honest, a little impressed. His opinion of Private Rosaline Barker had risen marginally and with her admission to his proposal, there was nothing left to be said. He flapped his hand at her as a sign of dismissal and she saluted. Slightly amused at the girls clumsy hand position, he gave her a small smile and touched his finger to his temple as she turned to leave.

'And Barker,' he spoke sharply, catching her nervous, overwhelmed expression as she spun on the spot to face him again. 'Goodluck.'

Please review! I love hearing what you think about the story. Good OR bad. Suggestions are always welcome!