Dearest Notre Dame - My heart fills w/ pride as Gen. Jackin Swarbrick & Father Johnathan Jenkins confirmed that old Notre Dame of the southernmost bend has reached union for my employment I shall put the city on my shoulders. The promised land awaits. -MF

Joanna – The night summons us to the lines. This fight is ours to seize, yet only if our discipline outlasts the dusk Yours, – MF P.S. May the Buckeyes ride forth with purpose come their hour, for if ever hail to the victors were to be silenced, let it be by their hand

Joanna – Yesterday we gave thanks & took our fill at the feast, and yet the morning calls us from comfort back to the field once more The coming clash is ours to claim, but only if our focus holds fast on The Farm. Victory favors the vigilant, never the careless Yours, – MF

Joanna – The men stood their ground, upheld the standard and proved again why this group moves with a force that cannot be matched. Pride is too small a word for what they’ve earned Their discipline never fractured We don’t speak of legacy, we enforce it – MF

Joanna - We will gather to honor the men whose resolve carried this unit beyond any line on a map. Their names will be spoken, their deeds recalled, & even in that moment of celebration, the march to battle will still call to us We will rise together, by our unit strength -MF

Mother – The day has passed, and the hills themselves seemed to echo our intent What lay before us was no contest at all but a shaping of will The panthers that once prowled the Allegheny heights were driven back, their growls fading beneath the weight of our resolve -MF

Mother – Autumn lays its colors upon these carved hills, the rivers winding through the hollows that guard our camp Panthers lie in wait in the Allegheny heights, yet we stand ready. This contest may be the most consequential in recent memory Your devoted son -MF

Joanna - Rest easy, dear Joanna. This day is won, yet we remain humble before the Lord who governs all outcomes The Midshipmen bore themselves w/ uncommon courage and discipline. Never have I seen men stand so resolute in the face of adversity Yours, in steadfast faith MF

Joanna – Tonight, beneath the quiet watch of the stars, we meet the Midshipmen. I hold no disdain for them, only respect. The contest ahead will test not only our strength, but our honor. It shall reveal the truth of who we are when the dust settles. Until dawn decides. – MF

Joanna – We claimed victory, though it was far from our finest hour. The field was marred by missteps & missed chances. A reminder that rank alone wins no battles. If we are to leave a worthy legacy, we must fight not just harder, but truer The banner still flies high – MF

Joanna – November finds us far from home, camped in Chestnut Hill, the leaves turned like back home The men stand proud. I pray pride not soften them For I’ve learned this much: if a man forgets to be grateful for what he’s been given, he’ll soon find a way to lose it – MF

Mother – The 95th battle w/ the Trojans is won, they lie in ruin. It was a wet & sloppy affair, the air thick with the scent of victory Our unit’s strength endures, unbroken and proud. Rest easy knowing your son still stands among the victors Keep the Shillelagh stowed, – MF

Mother - Word has reached me of the lads from the regiment called USC. I reckon most chose that banner simply because it’s easier to spell. I hope they packed a lunch, it’ll be a long day for them. The Trojans haven’t the strength to match our mettle and might we’ll bring -MF

Joanna - The pack’s howls have turned to whimpers carried off by the wind A lone wolf may hunt bravely, but it starves without its pack & a pack without heart fares no better The house that Rockne built still stands, its walls echoing with the sound of victory Yours, -MF

Joanna- It is a crisp day, the kind that stings the lungs yet sharpens the spirit The pack still prowls beyond the ridge, their hunger louder than their courage Perhaps they sense our unit strength We wait, watchful, within the house that Rockne built Yours, unyielding -MF

Dearest Joanna, Rest assured. The men were victorious Laughter rolled through camp like a hymn. Yet peace is a fickle guest. Even now, the night wind carries a strange scent, the musk of a Wolfpack prowling just beyond the ridge Yours in triumph & vigilance, -MF

Dearest Joanna, Scouts report a battalion advancing from Boise. Hardy men of basalt hills & wide potato plains. Seasoned in stern counsel & guided by able hands. Though we respect the craft of their leaders, we shall meet them w/ like purpose & stern resolve. Yours, MF

Dearest Joanna, The camp revels. A grand hog, roasted to a golden hue, its savory aroma mingling w/ the cool Ozark air Plates heaped, laughter ringing. The men toast our triumph with hearty spirits. Even the foulest stench of battle yields to this banquet of victory Yours, MF