Clipperblog has uncovered a unique collection of correspondences from the Clippers’ Grammy roadtrip. Origins unknown, these letters seem anecdotal in nature, and should be viewed more as historiography than history.
January the 29th, 2013 Los Angeles
Dear Clippie Blog,
I write this letter with great trepidation. We embark on a march through the Great North that I fear we will not survive. General Paul remains bedridden after an assassin of the 7th Orlando Infantry wounded his leg not a fortnight prior. But I carry a stoic face so as not to alert the men of our dire straits.
Colonel Griffin, sturdy as always, speaks of the young military mind, Lance Corporal Eric Bledsoe, not three years removed from his training at the University of Kentucky. Truly, he is still a pup about to be tossed into the wild. Yet, both Generals Paul and Billups express great confidence in him. And, so too, must we. Our well-oiled starting regiment has no fire without the General. If it means our reinforcements must strain their resources for our battle to succeed, it is a sacrifice that must be made.
I hear the trumpets sound now as we are called to break camp for the city of Minneapolis. Pray that my courage does not falter as I trek to the frozen tundra of the North. Give my love to our young ones, as I draw strength in the knowledge that we fight for their dreams and future.
Pvt. Andrew Han
January the 30th, 2013 Minneapolis
My Dear Clippie Blog,
We are victorious! The armies of Minnesota lay in even more disrepair than we as they struggled to adequately clothe and arm their men for combat. Colonel Griffin seemed like a man possessed in battle, inhaling their fear as if it were the frosty chill air off one of the lands ten one thousand lakes.
Lance Corporal Bledsoe seemed shaky away from home. But the troop rallied around him and, with Colonel Griffin’s ferocity, the great North Star state lay conquered at our feet.
This success is not without its setback, though. First Cavalryman Barnes resides in the brig for violating the rules of combat. And Lieutenant Butler almost followed suit after malicious attacks on Major Hill almost took his legs. I do not understand this clumsy business of rules in war. Sometimes I see death all around and it is not the instigator brought up on charges but the victim in retaliation. It is the business of stripes above mine, I suppose.
I yearn for your warm embrace as we march ever onward towards the foreign land of Can-ada. A land even more fraught with ice and cold than the one we depart, if that is to be believed. I hope that quick work can be done as we take the fight to this new country that I might return that much sooner.
Pvt. Andrew Han
February the 1st, 2013 Toronto, Canada
Sweet Clippie Blog,
Ambush! Lance Corporal Bledsoe and Colonel Griffin knew not of Toronto’s reinforcements until after arriving at the battleground. Those crafty Canadians publicized the depleted state of their army while simultaneously hiring a Memphian mercenary by the name of Gay. His sudden arrival invigorated their squad and we pulled back our troops even before the battle finished. The blood and suffering of those engaged seemed insignificant to the mental and emotional toll levied by such a swift and decisive loss.
I know how Clipper Nation leans on the triumph of our army’s earlier successes and how great a debt we owe to those proud citizens largely persecuted and vilified for their years of unwavering support to our struggling troops.
I ask of you, Clippie, help maintain morale as word spreads back home of this rather embarrassing defeat as we cross the choppy waves of Ontario and seek redemption over Boston’s 17th regiment. Messengers arrived this morning with knowledge that the New England tactician Rondo is also war-wounded. My heart hangs heavy that I must view the injuries of men as good fortune, but a bit of good fortune is what our troops need at this point. My love with you always.
Pvt. First Class Andrew Han
February the 3rd, 2013 Boston
My Darling Clippie Blog,
A sense of sadness besets me as I reflect upon our missed opportunity to defeat the veteran New England military, an aging but wily bunch.
When I recollect Paul Revere’s ride from Charlestown to Lexington and on through Arlington, a great swell of admiration washes over me in appreciation of the hardships he overcame to accomplish such a momentous task. It is an emotion sharply contrasted by our own shortcomings, confusion in our flank positions late in battle cost us victory. Although, we fought valiantly to even be in such a position after an early misstep and falter. These northern winds sap our strength and the men long for the comforts of their homes and beds.
By now I’m sure you’ve read that enemy messengers have somehow infiltrated our reporting chain. Such an attempt at psychological warfare is new to a green horn such as Lance Corporal Bledsoe. Lieutenant Butler, being a more grizzled veteran, shrugged off such rumors and guided the young Corporal as they both fought with spirited effort in the losing cause.
I must depart as we march through the night to Washington. Townsfolk make mention the city built on a swamp offers little resistance. I can only hope such gossip rings true as the men are far removed from the taste of victory.
Pvt. First Class Andrew Han
February the 4th, 2013 Washington D.C.
My Dearest Clippie Blog,
All is lost. By now word has spread to you of our failure on the Potomac.
Just moments before firing the opening salvo, Colonel Griffin collapsed, stricken with injury in the hindquarter of his leg. While not serious, the Colonel was forced to retire from the battlefield. Doctor Powell believes it a flesh wound sustained in our skirmish in New England, but Colonel Griffin secretly dressed it himself, hiding it from medics and troops alike.
Shame worse than death is cloaked upon me, as I fear the collective weight of our men have fallen our beloved colonel. The burden of supporting a band without the company of General Paul was an arduous task and I can only look to myself as fate robbed us of another patriot on this unending trail of sorrow.
Clippie, I have no misgivings of the cause we seek, but my concern for our ability to defend it hangs low like a cloud blotting the sun. Selfish though it may be, I confide in you with the hopes that you can share this weight and lend me your strength as we move further south to what the natives call Flo-rida. Should it be our final resting place, know that my love was unwavering until the end.
Sergeant Andrew Han
February the 6th, 2013 Orlando
My Dearest Clippie Blog,
We have navigated the hostile terrain of the South and emerged victorious in the marshlands of Orlando. Color me surprised as Captain Crawford was also pulled from combat duty shortly before engagement. It only made our victory even more unexpected, as we relied on the youthful exuberance of Lance Corporal Bledsoe and Sergeant Jordan. Both carried the fire of retribution deep in their belly and their fervor for blood only grew upon their realization that the vile marksman Redick, who had so perniciously affected our morale with the injury inflicted on General Paul, was nowhere to be found.
Rumblings abound camp and hint at injured comrades rejoining us as we set east, towards Dade County and the colorful armies of Miami. They are an awesome force, Miami’s 3rd platoon, and it is in no small part attributed to a warrior the denizens of this region refer to as “the Chosen One” or “King James.” I should like to see this LeBron James up close and verify the veracity of his legend.
My love for you and the little blogs is deathless and I hope to return soon.
Sergeant Andrew Han
February the 8th, 2013 Miami
My Sweet Clippie Blog,
I have seen many things in our travels across this land, but never have I witnessed a nature so monstrous as this man, LeBron James. Perhaps not even a man. It is likely not since the Greek legend Achilles has one man so thoroughly controlled a battle. And while our troops were willing in such a challenge, unfamiliarity contributed to our early demise.
General Paul’s cadence seemed foreign in battle and General Billups, while an inspiring presence, still limited in his ability. But it was a good time to be rejoined by our leaders. Leading is a quality our men struggled with in their absence. And if moral victories can be salvaged from defeat, then simply the reunion of our band of men is enough encouragement.
No time can be wasted, though, as our return to the frigid North is imminent. And on that slow march back into yankee territory, I dream about our little ones and the fine blogs they will become. And should I not return, know that with my last breath I whisper your name, Clippie Blog.
Sergeant Major Andrew Han
February the 10th, 2013 New York
Sweet Darling Clippie Blog,
The armies of the North have fallen. Yankees taunted us upon our arrival, howling at our assumed defeat. And New York’s 2nd militia gave quite a fight. Yet another demon in plain clothes walks among their midst, Brigadier Carmelo Anthony. Had I not witnessed wrath incarnate two nights prior in Miami, this man, who spun fire off the cuff, would have shaken our unit to its very core.
Observing these “men” battle after battle, I cannot help but sense my own mortality. And the urgency to not only win battles, but the war, by season’s end only grows. There are questions as to whether General Billups and Major Hill will volunteer for another winter of grueling duty. We should all be so lucky to see as many passing seasons as they. A determination grows within us to let their ride into the sunset be victorious, if this is indeed their final tour.
Trumpets sound and there is little time to wax nostalgic under the winter sun. The days are numbered until our journey is at an end and we are together again.
Sergeant Major Andrew Han
February the 11th, 2013 Philadelphia
My Dearest Clippie Blog,
My duty is at an end. The indications that we are returning home are very strong, And lest I do not get another opportunity to write, I felt compelled to pen a few lines that may fall under your eye before we see each other again.
We marched unendingly through the night and right through the City of Brotherly Love’s 1st Infantry. Nary a moment did we rest as Colonel Griffin and General Paul ran roughshod through the streets that once entertained the Continental Congress. Steeped in the history of our land, I see how Clipper Nation relies on the strength and hopes of our unit. And this long, tumultuous trek has steeled the men’s resolve that we might win this war of tyranny with the states of Oklahoma City and San Antonio. There is no mistaking a long and arduous road still remains, with sacrifices yet to come, but it is a debt that must be paid in honor of those that came before us who fought so gallantly for a thing they did not see built.
General Paul speaks of a future he envisions for our nation, no longer to be bullied and forced to live in servitude beneath wealthier lands that would take our resources. And we have all come to believe him. He commands Colonel Griffin’s brigade like none I have seen before, with clarity and decisiveness, and the Colonel strides swiftly, leaving destruction in his wake.
A tide is turning, Clippie. We are building towards a crest that will wash away the history of our poor nation and our young ones will thrive in a land they can call their own. I can only hope to return as quickly as this letter would find you.
Sergeant Major Andrew Han
