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Dearest Abigail,
Warmest greetings from sunny California. It's been a fortnight or two since my last trip to the frontier, but each time my boots trod the cobblestone and dirt streets of the Los Angeles outpost, I am reminded that ours is a fight for everyone within America's seemingly boundless boundaries. (Ah, to laugh! I had to indulge myself a single pun, for it is the resting period between our next campaign).
We are but days away from the great celebration of our nation's victory for independence. It is good not to be subjected by a crown. I've found that dynasties corrupt those at the top, and they'll go so far as to sacrifice even the most basic standards of air pressure to maintain their tyranny. And with that I thought it might be prudent to share four reflections in light of our great national holiday.
Amputation -- I should say that we're fortunate to have come so far in the field of medicine. Recall a time when leeches were our greatest ally in staving off gangrene, before the advent of the modern bone saw. Sawing off a man's limb is no small thing. Their screams I shall hear in my sleep until my last night on Earth. Though I believe my comrades suffered more because someone in camp was absconding with our morphine supply. We should nevertheless be thankful for these advances due mostly to ...
Dedication and ingenuity -- It has been my experience that these values, above all else, define our great land and its people. If there were in fact a danger for head wounds to render us feeble in our old age, I am confident the league's administrators would scour the globe for the finest minds able to permanently resolve such an issue. On the field, when marauding brigands took away our ability to run the ball, our efforts shifted to the air. We craft many a fine play and are able to modify that as conditions on the field change. Our efforts make for lasting changes and innovations in a way that common trickery like making the eligible ineligible cannot sustain.
Hard work -- Of course, all of this comes with a high price in sweat, blood and tears. Often fatigue has left us doubting that our efforts might continue. Hunger, weariness, forsaken odds to a cause most men would abandon, in those moments I ask my men to reach inward so that they might push onward. Hard work is a reward in and of itself, one that often leads to greater accomplishments. Look no further than our own Mssr. Jim Irsay for a testament to the rewards of hard work.
Fellowship -- As the winds of January sapped away our morale this winter, I had to stand betwixt some of the men and the running back from Alabama, who had recently taken a French leave and left us hurting for his 2-yard contributions to the effort. It was my duty to prevent such unauthorized discipline, but I did feel for the men who had been abandoned by their mate. We move together, squat over the same holes, marching toward a shared objective on the field. Even these lads hailing from Ft. Miami will haul themselves away from the brothel to stand on that line and fight as brothers (and several are quite handy with a bayonet I might add). This is what makes us the true standard-bearers of these great United States, not some criminal outfit from the rebellious plains of Texas or the carpetbagging swindlers from Boston.
Now is our moment of relaxation and reflection. In a month's time we shall muster again, the playfulness of summer a distant memory as we prepare for our next campaign. Oh how it does make a man's heart sing with joy!
Abigail, my heart goes always with you and this great land we call America. Celebrate the Fourth responsibly (perhaps a single gin rickey will suffice this year!) and respectfully.
My love always,
Gen. Andrew Luck, 1st regiment, Indianapolis Colts