It's been a long, weird season, and somehow despite all the twists and turns and highs and lows and a batshit game against Iowa, we've all survived. It's been my pleasure to fancifully recap each Buckeye game this season through the POV of General Meyer, and this will be the last edition of the series. Never fear--I intend to start a new series for next season, albeit with a different direction (let's just say fans of sword and sorcery fantasy will be happy).
Without further ado, here's the final edition of General Meyer's War Journal. Thank you so much for reading.
December 20th, Year of Our Lord Two Thousand and Seventeen
Dearest Shelley,
It has been a long war. It has been a terrible war. So many young men I've had to bury, so many fields I've walked through, scorched by fire and haunted by the lingering gray wraiths of gunpowder. But now my war is over, and I am coming home to you, and this time, I think, for good.
The Trojans of Southern California were a fearsome foe, led by a promising young commander in General Helton, but now they are no more.
It was not without some sense of personal obligation that I marched my armies to meet theirs, for as you will well recall, it was the Trojans who killed my father at the Battle of Rose Run some forty years ago when I was but a boy. That battle has lived long in the collective memory of every man and woman of Ohio, and when we marched from Columbus many were the well-wishers who offered roses to our boys. We met the Trojans in the heart of Texas, on the plains of Arlington. For Captain Barrett and Sergeant Dobbins, it was a homecoming of sorts, but for the rest of the army, it was an unfamiliar place suffused with an unfamiliar energy.
Before the battle began, we were disheartened to learn that Sergeant Ward, hero of many prior engagements, would not march with us into the fray, for reasons his own. However, Corporals Sheffield and Webb and young Private Okudah all stepped in to fill his duties. It was Sheffield and Webb who led a daring cavalry charge early in the battle that cut off the Trojan's opening assault. In the resulting chaos, the Trojans' line collapsed and we very nearly captured their brilliant battlefield commander Captain Samuel Darnold. Darnold escaped, albeit at the cost of many of his troops.
Most of our gains we made in these early stages, quickly capturing much of the battleground and routing the Trojans on both flanks. However a mistake by the usually steady Sergeant Dobbins allowed the Trojans to regroup and even mount a modest counterattack, which halted our offensive. From there, we found it difficult to break through the Trojans' tenacious defenses, while against our soundly entrenched forces they found no success. Seeing that there was little to be gained from reckless assaults against a prepared foe, I opted to sit back and absorb their attacks as the shore does the sea. Time and again Captain Darnold led charges against us, and each time he was repulsed by the superb defenses prepared by Colonel Schiano. Bit by bit we ground their troops down and bled them pale, until at last their spirit broke, and they attacked no more.
I gave orders. Captain Barrett rode one last time onto the field, his cavalry behind him, and captured Darnold and Helton. The honor of Ohio restored, we disarmed the forces of Southern California, exacted our demands for tribute, and then turned east, toward home.
It has been a long war, Shelley, and though there have been moments of supreme glory when I thought myself touching the lower reaches of heaven itself, they have been alloyed with episodes of terrible anguish. I am tired, Shelley. War is a game for younger men, men who can still believe in lofty ideals of valor and glory, and who have not worn out their hands turning earth and nailing coffins. I am coming home, Shelley, and let this be for the last time.
Yours forever,
General Urban Francis Meyer
