You can't ignore the shadows of war, Tom Jordan told anyone who would listen, though few wanted to hear it; and why should they? Sitting in Tarwids Russian Bar on Lexington Avenue that evening the world seemed perfect. They drank a toast to the bear propped up in the corner, a champagne glass held precariously in one paw, and smiled at each other as only lovers can. Later, in the warmth of the late summer twilight, they walked hand in hand through Central Park and made their vows that this would be forever – but deep down she knew it was an illusion. Tom was right – the war would come and that would ruin everything. In Washington Roosevelt had long believed they would have to join the British in the European war. For two years, since 1938, he had made strenuous efforts to persuade Congress that America must re-arm, but after a decade of isolationism there was no mood in the country for conflict. Europe and its troubles were an ocean away; still America slumbered on. Half of all its citizens didn't believe in a war – and of those who did few felt deeply enough to care about it. When Britain signed a peace treaty with Germany the Chiefs of Staff were concerned but cautiously optimistic. Then things changed. Hitler's gaze turned westward – America would have to up its game. In the fall of 1940 there was little time left.