Todd's spring had gone by in a blur — his fast-moving romance with Jen, raucous road trips, wild parties, and an episode involving the Boston College police department, smelling salts, and a trip to the hospital emergency room. And then the academic year was over, and Todd had left, first for a service project in Seattle and then for his assignment in Korea. He called Jen at the end of nearly every workday, and the phone would ring late at night at her mother's house in Pennsylvania where she was staying for the summer. Todd wrote long letters, once scribbling on the backs of pages from a "Far Side" calendar so Jen could read the cartoons if she was bored by what he had to say. That seemed highly unlikely, and by the end of the summer, he was pouring his heart out. "I dreamt that some day I would find a girl that could make me as happy as you do," Todd wrote. Then, on second thought, he scribbled out "dreamt," and replaced it with "prayed."

Now, in August 2001, Todd was back at West Point, and Jen drove up from Pennsylvania to greet him. It was her turn to be nervous. Todd was a great guy — funny, good-looking — and he made her feel special. But their relationship was intense. Who knew where this might lead?

"Those West Pointers," warned one of her roommates, a girl whose father had graduated from the academy, but whose parents' marriage hadn't lasted. "Their goal their firstie year is to find a wife that will follow them around the Army and cook and clean for them. You have to beware of that."

Todd wasn't allowed off campus during Jen's visit, and she couldn't even hug him, since public displays of affection were prohibited when a cadet was in uniform. It was her first visit to West Point, and she was surprised to find the place so cold and gray, even at the end of summer, nothing like the pretty campus at Boston College. All around were reminders that Todd owed a half decade of his life to the Army. True, no West Point class had graduated into conflict since Vietnam, years before either of them had been born. But still, there would be months of training, and an assignment to some distant military base — maybe Germany, or South Korea again. Todd could even be sent away for six months or more on a peacekeeping deployment in Bosnia. If only he weren't in the Army, Jen thought, things would be so much easier.

Todd led Jen down Flirty Walk, the one place on campus where he was allowed to walk arm-in-arm with a girl while in uniform. As he talked about the academy's history and traditions, he spoke with such passion and reverence that Jen — against her better judgment — grew fascinated. The campus seemed an irony-free oasis, both severe and beautiful, apart from the rest of America. The academy made her proud of her country, proud of her boyfriend's military service, proud that he loved America and wasn't afraid to say it.

A couple of weeks later, Todd called Jen at Boston College with a plan. Her birthday was coming up, and he wanted to do something special. Pack a bag, he told her. Bring something nice to wear. He drove the two hundred miles up to Massachusetts in his Chevy Suburban and whisked her away over Labor Day weekend to the Diamond District Inn, a bed and breakfast north of Boston. It was romantic and wonderful, intoxicating for Jen. Before the weekend was out, Todd started talking about getting engaged.

"You're out of your mind!" Jen replied. Marriage? She was crazy about him, but she was just a kid, and they'd known each other for only a few months. She'd hardly seen Todd since Korea, and just a few times before that. She did her best to ignore him, pretending he hadn't said the word.

"I'm not going to pressure you. I'm not going to push you," Todd replied. But sooner or later, he promised, "You're going to realize what you already know in your heart. It's just your stubborn head that won't cooperate."