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Dearest mother — We were not victorious over the Bison men, however the match wasn’t so much a battle as a minor dust-up. Essentially, neither unit won nor lost; the outcome was mostly academic. Actual battle will not take place for several weeks. We continue to prepare. — Andrew

Dearest mother — Basic training progresses, however I am not drilling yet. My baby-cow injury persists. I am confident with the proper medical treatment (and some Squirrel Oil), I shall be just fine. A group of Dog Men asked to run maneuvers with the unit. We acccepted. — Andrew

Dearest mother — The Dog Men bamboozled our unit. After days of running maneuvers together, they engaged us in a scuffle. Disappointing. ‘Twas minor and counted for nothing. As for myself, the sawbones deem that I am on the mend. I remain patient and steadfast. Sanguine. — Andrew

Dearest mother — We have heard rumblings that Bears may be headed our way. I have ordered all the rations be buried in hopes they are not lured to our camp. I am still not drilling. The sawbones feels I need more time to ensure I am battle ready for the actual campaign. — Andrew

Dearest mother — The quill has never felt more heavy. I have made the decision to holster my sidearm permanently. I shall battle no more. The decision is difficult, but, as the hogs taught me, I must be true to myself. I am coming home to care for you and the farm. — Andrew

Dearest friends — A heartfelt thank you. And a fond farewell. — Andrew

Dearest mother — It warms my beard to write you. A dispatch arrived at my home far within the Appalachians stating I'm once again the topic of conversation inside the periodicals. Fascinating. I hope you received the basket of salted raccoon toes and lemon mouse cakes. — Andrew

Dearest mother — My beard has been tapered — but not tampered. Thusly, I shall resume my quiet days in my Appalachian cabin, reading to the birds. A basket with spiced beaver thighs and fresh squirrel oil is on the way. T’was lovely to correspond once more. I love you. — Andrew

Dearest mother — I hope my appearance on the magical, moving picture box filled you with joy. As you could see, my resolve has never been more robust. Squirrel oil and your peppered chipmunk feet have kept me sturdy. Life is splendid. Give the cows my best. I love you. — Andrew

Dearest mother — My heart is full and my neck beard spirited to share with you my latest tintype for the mantle. My countenance was captured by Gen. Madden. I feel it is most glorious. Please inform the horses. I know seeing me so regal will fill them with delight. — Andrew

Dearest mother — I wish you and the hogs the happiest of holidays. Do not fret, my neck beard is keeping me most warm. Thank you for the gifts. I love the chipmunk fur sweater and skunk skin socks. Cozy. Enclosed is my new tintype. As you can see, it is most impressive. — Andrew

Dearest mother — The battleground has called for my glorious return. I’m thrilled to say, I shall heed that call. I have reenlisted. While my sidearm is permanently holstered — I shall help train other young men to be great soldiers. Please send care packages of squirrel oil

Andrew Luck says he's never met the person behind Capt. Andrew Luck, but loves their work and hopes they continue document his journey... as a General now

Dearest mother — As I am sure you’ve seen in the newspaper, the great final battle of this campaign resulted in the Ohio State regiment — who disguise themselves as foliage — defeating the Notre Dame regiment — who believe themselves to be magical creatures, donned in green, and

Dearest mother — I’ve relieved Gen. Taylor of his duties. While vexing, my resolve and determination to appoint new leadership are as solid as the hogs’ outhouse. Regiment drilling shall begin soon. A new day and new campaign are ahead. Thrilling. Please send more squirrel oil

Dearest mother — My neck beard beams with confidence in sharing with you that Gen. Reich has agreed to lead our men into battle. A rousing development, indeed. Please inform the cows immediately, as I know they worry. My resolve strengthens. I yearn for victory, as do we all. —

Dearest mother — I write with riveting news. I have once again — after what felt like an eternity — utilized my sidearm and tactical abilities. I know I swore to stow my sidearm after I retired — but, I am training new soldiers for battle. And it was only proper to unholster my

Dearest mother — Word has reached me that the Lightning Men from a region where angels are aplenty honored me in their upcoming campaign proclamation. It seems the bulletin revolved around news of mines and crafting. Glorious. Please tell the sheep. They will be elated. — Andrew