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General Meyer's War Journal--The Indiana Campaign

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September 1, 2017 at 1:12pm
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Welcome to my newest weekly series, a fanciful recap of the latest Buckeye football game from the perspective of the haunted and brooding General Urban Meyer.

First of September, Year of Our Lord Two-Thousand-Seventeen.

Dearest Shelley,

Mere words cannot but imitate the merest flickering of the violence I have witnessed this last day, just as a candle cannot hope to capture the heat and terrible majesty of a roaring inferno. Yet still I must endeavor. The campaign into Bloomington began auspiciously, with my new adjutant (a recent defector from the forces of Indiana) Colonel Wilson driving his troops deep into enemy territory. I daresay I could smell the fear of the Hoosiers as we drove toward the innmost crimson of their heart. But it was not to be, and in these early goings the forces of Indiana rallied, and our own resolve flagged and we came away with far less than we'd hoped to capture. But we had scarcely time to rue our shortfall before the Hoosiers launched a terrible counterattack.

I think the boy's name was Sergeant Richard Lagow, but whatever his name, I shall not soon forget the savagery of the riposte that he and his comrades delivered, reversing all our gains and nearly routing us were it not for a brilliant rearguard action by Corporal Fuller. As the battle continued, the old problems continued to plague our efforts. Despite the new life and organization that Colonel Wilson brought with him, Captain Smith's long range artillery remained rather less than spectacular, and by the middle of the battle, when the lull in fighting took hold, the outcome was far from certain, and my mind even played host to the grim thought that I might be penning this letter to you from inside a Bloomington holding cell, which I believe the locals call a "Motel 6."

However despite--or perhaps because of--our heavy casualties suffered earlier in the battle, we returned to the fight with a renewed fervor. I watched--not without some pride--as Captain Barrett rallied his unit to decisive charge after decisive charge, while our defensive units held firm against even the most ferocious Hoosier assaults. And how far was I from shedding a tear at seeing young Private Campbell, who earlier had let his nerves take the heart from him, rebound and strike a devastating blow against the Indiana faithful that drove the teeming horde from their seats into the parking lot. By the end, there was little more to do but pick through the littered corpses of what had seemed an implacable army just an hour before.

With Indiana thoroughly pacified, I must now return to the homefront, where we will be reunited, my love. But I fear these halcyon days of ours will be short indeed, for a foul wind arises to the west. The men of Oklahoma are gathering their forces even now, under the banner of their new general Lincoln of Riley, eager to avenge the humiliation we paid them on the plains of Norman last year. And for the sake of our homeland and our future, I must meet them on the field again.

Yours eternally,

General Urban Francis Meyer

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