Col. Joseph Lee Burrow
@ColJoeBurrow
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Soldier. Ohioan. Tiger. Parody.
Cincinnati, OH
Joined August 2021
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Father—
It’s settled. We the big dog. Can I get a Who Dey?
—Joe
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Father—
What a triumph! Our tenth victory in a row. In the heavy snows of Buffalo we marched down the field & imposed our will on the Williams. We smote their ruin in a park of orchards. Our march to glory continues. Tell Mother her bison leg is en route.
—Joe
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4K
Father—
We have our orders. We’re to advance on LA to conduct a climactic battle with a flock of Rams led by a man who was once a lion but has learnt he is better as a ram. A pack of tigers vs a flock of rams. I believe this feast will taste even sweeter then Ma Homes’s BBQ.
—Joe
15
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4K
Father—
We march west to Missouri to face Kansas City where Ma Homes and his Chiefs await at a place called Arrowhead. So much to process. Ma did say we would meet again. The boys worry not. The hunt is on. Ready the cigars.
—Joe
PS - Tell Mother I have never been better.
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4K
Father—
I seem to have come into a bit of coin and greenbacks. I need to borrow the wagon for a week or so to transport it all. I shall buy Mother something special, then I must buy a new cabin near Fort Paycor as it appears I will remain stationed there some years hence.
—Joe
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Father—
We find ourselves again at the gates of history. The eyes of the world are upon us. The men are prepared and eager to see action. I am better than ready. I will not let you down. I will not let the Queen City down. Tell Mother I love her and to pray good fortune.
—Joe
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Father—
We are on the march. The regiment is ordered to the Missouri city called Kansas to face Ma Homes & his tribe. Our scouts say Ma may be down a leg. I care not. We shall deliver another reminder that Ma should stick with selling shoes & farm insurance. It’s OUR time.
—Joe
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Father—
Seems the papers were right tickled about the faded picture you showed of me as a young boy wearing the colors of our enemy. I did set things straight, tho, once I learned a thing or two: boys are Chiefs, men are Bengals. Tomorrow that matter will be settled proper.
—Joe
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Father—
Apologies for my abrupt departure, I had recruits to sway and a steak to eat. My efforts met with much success. It appears service in our regiment is desired. Our call for reinforcements, answered. The line has been replenished with men who eat glass. Splendid.
—Joe
16
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Father—
Victory! And what a tale. Our spies smuggled a bad batch of rum onto the pirates’ ship halfway through the fray. They staggered, stumbled and bumbled ever after. In the end we put to rest the conundrum of who’d win in a tussle between a big dog and an old goat.
—Joe
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Father—
Deep in enemy territory, our backs against the wall, our defense held firm. I rallied the men for a final assault and we pushed the devils back until a blast from McPherson’s Battery sealed our triumph. Smoke ‘em if you got ‘em.
—Joe
PS-Told you I wouldn’t let you down.
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2K
Father—
Changes have been made to our extended campaign for reasons I do not understand and therefore cannot explain. I know what I must do to right this wrong. Please ask Mother to pray for my forgiveness for what I’m about to unleash the next few weeks. It starts today.
—Joe
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Father—
We suffered a soul-crushing defeat to the rabid horned devils. Our men fought with every ounce of vigor they could muster as the rams pressed their advantage. We are bent, but not broken. As God as my witness, we shall return to take our rightful place in history.
—Joe
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Father—
We are down three glass eaters. There’s talk I may be in grave danger as a result. Please tell Mother not to worry. I’ve worked on expediting my sidearm draw; I can get off a shot in nearly two seconds. It has been hard work, but diligence is the mother of good luck.
—Joe
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Father—
The first flakes of snow should soon fall in Buffalo as we make our final preparations. The swift hell we unleashed upon our last abbreviated meeting with the Williams shall continue at the sound of the trumpet. Tell Mother not to fret; I’ve hunted plenty in winter.
—Joe
12
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Father—
Victory! Our backs against the wall, Providence smiled upon us. We advance. Onward to glory.
—Joe
9
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Father—
Last night we made merry around our campfires. Mixon broke out his banjo and the men sang me this lyric:
“The Queen City shall sing of us 100 years to come
And tell their children’s children all the wonders we have done.”
It almost brought a tear to my eye. Almost.
—Joe
14
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2K
Father—
I am still processing last night’s victory, our 9th in a row. We had to fight for every inch of ground. Then, in a time of great crisis, a local boy named Hubbard found his moment and lumbered his way to glory. The harder the conflict the more glorious the triumph.
—Joe
13
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Father—
Tis Battle Eve. The men are ready. Tell Mother I’m excited yet calm. Anxious yet determined. Vigilant yet confident. Worry not. All my life I’ve trained and worked for moments like this. Destiny awaits. It is us. Time to conquer or perish. Time to
#rulethejungle
—Joe
12
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Father—
How shall I begin? Our struggle with Buffalo was cut short by an event that called us to seek common brotherhood over enmity, put down our arms, and pray a swift end to the plight of young Hamlin, which continues to today. Ask Mother to pray for his speedy succor.
—Joe
17
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Father—
I write, while dining on buffalo steak, with the splendid news of our fourth victory in a row. It was a triumph over many men named William, a fact I found most peculiar. Regardless, my sidearm proved a blessing, with nary a misfire. We are on the march yet again.
—Joe
14
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Father—
It’s rendered necessary for us to march north to prosecute this campaign against the Buffalos named William. The papers continue to anoint them as men of destiny. Poppycock. They must face us first. We shall meet them in a park of orchards & settle the matter proper.
—Joe
20
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Father—
I’m back, quill in hand, to report the heart-warming news of our victory against large, red birds out west. Neither my sidearm nor calf showed signs of rust; both were trusty and true. I believe we can turn this campaign around. I ask you to believe as well. Onward.
—Joe
16
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Father—
We have our orders. We are to defend our post as the Ravens shall return to Fort Paycor. I’ve seen many birds in my life and I am convinced I’ve not seen a worse flock than this. Reports are they do not yet know their leader for this engagement. As if it matters.
—Joe
23
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Father—
Victory! I have even greater news tho. My calf is back. His return among us was equal to a reinforcement of 1,000 men. My sidearm spirited into action and I danced across the field as ‘twere the Athens Grand Ball. If Mixon breaks out his banjo, I may dance til dawn.
—Joe
13
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2K
Father—
I have been silent these many months to clear my mind and focus on the fall campaign. Alas, as the time of action nears the hope of glory abounds. I endeavor to make you and Mother proud yet again. Though our first engagement looms I remain steadfast. It’s go time.
—Joe
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Father—
Our campaign ended sooner than we desired with a brutal defeat in the city of Kansas. Our heads are high. I am proud of the men. We will be back; we have unfinished business. But for now you can tell Mother this campaign has ended and her boy is coming home.
—Joe
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Father—
We were victorious, sending the band of Raiders back to the neon desert from whence they came! I was not yet a twinkle in your eye the last time our forces advanced this far. The Queen City rallied loud behind us. They deserve this. Mother deserves it. I may cry.
—Joe
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Father—
I feel the campaign is back on-track, that momentum is ours. I know the struggle will continue in the months ahead, but allow me a moment of confident reflection. We are on the march. Please share with Mother this photo of Chase and me taken after yesterday’s brawl.
—Joe
22
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Father—
The papers are makin' a fuss bout a gold figurine I got 3 years ago today of the great Gen. Heisman. T'was a fine day, but water under the bridge. My focus is forward; I intend to hoist another war trophy come February out in the southwestern desert. Love to Mother.
—Joe
20
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Father—
While making merry, the young Hubbard, who also hails from Ohio, asked if you & Mother could perchance send word to Mother Hubbard. She hath no doubt been clutching her poor dog while awaiting an update on her son’s well-being. Tell her he’ll be decorated for valor.
—Joe
13
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Father—
Well, damn. Sorry we came up short. I’m proud of what we accomplished. We’ll put out the call for volunteers and draft new conscripts into our ranks. Then we’ll be back. We’re just gettin’ started. Please tell Mother I’m coming home. I could really use a hot bath.
—Joe
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Father—
Much excitement in camp. A mighty herd from Buffalo approaches. Our scouts say they are all named William. Peculiar. They’re led by a man who trained in the Wyoming Territory. The papers slobber over him as if he were a deity. We have just the cure for such nonsense.
—Joe
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Father—
I’ve been studying rams, which are really sheep. I’ve learnt these rams we’re up against migrated to LA from Cleveland three score and 16 years ago. Nothing about these rams impresses me. They don’t roar, bite or scratch. I might bring one or two home as pets.
—Joe
9
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Father—
The national chatter continues to bore. Have you heard the nonsense about how we are underdogs? Annoying. There is no underdog here. There is, however, a big dog. Come Sunday it shall feast on Buffalo meat. I’ll send you & Mother a bison leg for the church potluck.
—Joe
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Father—
It is with a modest air that I write that reports of our demise have been greatly exaggerated.
—Joe
6
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Father—
We were victorious behind an unlikely hero. With Mixon an early casualty we turned to Perine, a man with a lumberjack of a beard. He had himself a day. We shall celebrate tonight. I only pray Mixon can still strum his banjo. The men deserve the merriment. Onward.
—Joe
11
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Father—
The regiment has assembled on the banks of the Ohio. First muster brought word of yet another fall campaign. Our ranks replenished, the men brim with confidence. I’m fighting trim and at no risk of losing another appendix as I have none to lose. Our journey begins.
—Joe
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Father—
Last night we bid farewell to the Queen City before we depart to face the flock of sheep. I stood on the parapet at Fort Paul Brown to rally the civilian populace. The papers asked if I’d “talk smack.” Negative. My sidearm does my talking. Next stop: Los Angeles.
—Joe
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Father—
I write with glorious news of another victory! The Ravens could not be persuaded to quit the field, but it mattered not. Do let Mother know I love her, but I shan’t be home soon. We have lofty goals to yet obtain. For now, cigar time.
—Joe
PS-Can I get a Who Dey?
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Father—
There’s a stir we “poked the bear” with our victory and have a “red dot” on our foreheads. Tell Mother my forehead is clear and I am well. As to poking bears, dare I say we are Tigers. We devour bears for breakfast regularly. Ravens, too. After all, we
#rulethejungle
-Joe
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Father—
You may have seen in the papers that I shouted “I’m him!” during the last fray. I was asked what this means. I reckon I do not know. Sometimes I black out in the heat of battle. Words and such don’t mean a lot. On matters of importance, my sidearm does my talking.
—Joe
15
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Father—
‘Tis my last letter before the climactic battle they call
#SuperBowl
. I’m sure you’ve read the papers. It’s amazing how little they still seem to know about this unit. They’re gonna learn today. We’re coming for it all; we’re gonna
#ruleitall
. THIS IS OUR DEY!!!
—Joe
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Father—
Perchance you can explain something I find peculiar. From reading the papers you’d think Ma Homes and I had never met on the battlefield, yet this very thing happened not two fortnights ago and we emerged victorious. Another lesson is in order. Please send cigars.
—Joe
11
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2K
Father—
The drum has sounded. I expect the men to be of good courage. We must exert ourselves as if we have nothing on our side but our own valor. Please tell Mother to not be distressed. I will do my duty & things will turn out for the best. I live for this. It’s go time.
—Joe
10
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Father—
We are cheered by word that Hamlin of Buffalo made miraculous strides toward his former glory. Our petitions on his behalf remain steadfast as we are alerted about an approaching flock of Ravens due at Fort Paycor two days hence. I smell a whuppin’. ‘Tis overdue.
—Joe
10
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Father—
We were victorious! McPherson’s Battery was accurate at range, with four long, successful volleys, though it could be said our defenses were where heroes were found on this day. When the sheep attacked we swarmed like buzzards. Please tell Mother I feel on the mend.
—Joe
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Father—
No time to rest; we must press on. In a rather curious turn of events, this army is headed south to battle pirates in the Bay of Tampa. They are led by an ancient man who lives on his last legs, hanging on for one more chance at gold and plunder. Not on my watch.
—Joe
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Father—
We were victorious in the land of Ten Seas, cutting the large men down to size. Minus Mixon and Chase we rode to glory with Perine and Higgins again. I was hardly hit and though not at my best, we persevered. I am who I thought I was. We the big dog. Cigar time.
—Joe
12
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Father—
Folks are placing wagers on the struggle between us and the Buffalo Williams. The Williams are led by a man named Allen, who is called Josh implying he’s some kind of joker or jester I reckon. Those who bet the farm on such a man shall soon learn the joke is on them.
—Joe
9
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Father—
As the hours turn to minutes before our next-to-last battle, I go knowing you raised me for just such moments. The louder the battlefield, the slower my pulse. The smoke from our cigars shall lift high above Arrowhead by dusk on the morrow. I will eat Ma Homes’s BBQ.
—Joe
8
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2K
Father—
The Raven flock approaches; our preparations continue. Being in great haste I have only time to inform you that I am in good health & high spirits. This regiment has unfinished business. We shall make fools of the naysayers. It’s a new dey. Expect the spectacular.
—Joe
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Father—
We’ve orders out Boston way to handle some ruffians who call themselves patriots. They’re nothing of the sort, led by a scowling, grizzled elder who is dangerous when cornered. A new age has dawned tho. We’ve the momentum now. I’ll bring back some beans for Mother.
—Joe
13
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Father—
Another week, another triumph as we continue our march to the ultimate victory. No brownie could stop us as we stormed to glory. Confidence, high. Morale, higher. We lost several good men in this one but our weapons are many. I’m damn proud of this unit.
—Joe
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Father—
Dawn. The sun came up over Arrowhead, as it always does. My demeanor and constitution are without spot, as they always are. The men are the very definition of ready. Three words have been the resounding theme on everyone’s lips: “Let’s f**king go.”
#RuleTheJungle
—Joe
14
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1K
Father—
We rec’d a report that Ma Homes and his native band plan an assault on Fort Paycor. I thought this matter settled last campaign with Ma Homes retiring to sell farm insurance. Alas, Ma’s back for another whupping. This time he’s in for a lesson he shan’t soon forget.
—Joe
12
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Father—
Tis my last letter before we engage the enemy. Please thank the Queen City for its support. It gives us great strength as we prepare to do our duty. We will not let you down. I will not let you down. We are here to make noise and roar. We are here to
#rulethejungle
—Joe
11
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Father—
I write with warm news - another triumph! I give much credit to those who defended Fort Paycor against all odds. Glory was theirs this day. My sidearm was spectacular early before it jammed on me repeatedly. I’ll have the gunsmith examine it and be ready forthwith.
—Joe
4
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1K
Father—
My heart is heavy. My wound shall take me out of action for several months and I must rally the men on from afar. Whilst there is still hope for our mission’s success it shall be without me. Please tell Mother I love her and I’m sorry for all this. Onward.
—Joe
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Father—
The time is now near at hand. A victory over the herd of Williams from Buffalo might bring joy to many, but to us it is expected. We know our mettle; it has been forged by fire and now we are steel. We shall show the world, yet again, that we are the big dog.
—Joe
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Father—
Today I am one-score and six. No time for making merry tho as the Brownies approach Fort Paycor from across our beloved Ohio. We shall party after our decisive victory on the morrow. Today I simply pause to give thanks to Mother for birthing a warrior such as I.
—Joe
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Father—
We battled black birds, red birds and now get reports of Seahawks advancing on Fort Paycor. I find this peculiar, as we are a thousand miles from a sea. We must be vigilant; time is not our friend if our campaign is to be saved. Morale, high. My confidence, higher.
—Joe
10
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Father—
Last night the men sang me a ballad around the campfire:
Hear that Bengal growlin’
Mean and angry
To LA we’ll come prowlin’
Seeking victory
We are resolute
Your sidearm will shoot
And defensively we’ll hold, firm!
It sounds much better with Mixon on the banjo.
—Joe
11
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1K
Father—
No time to rest. We march south for a Titanic struggle in Nashville. The enemy’s ranks recently replenished with a Henry give them hope. Let them dream. They are a mere bump in our road to victory. I am confident in my sidearm and shall Chase them from the field.
—Joe
12
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Father—
I need some alone time after this one. I swear I kept my sidearm clean and well oiled, yet it was a bit rusty, misfiring multiple times. It’s a long campaign, and despite my transgressions we darn near pulled it out. Tell Mother I’ll be fine. We’ll be fine. Promise.
—Joe
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Father—
T’was darned cold when we met the patriots on the battlefield, yet we emerged victorious. With help from a kind providence, and a heavy dose of my sidearm, we erased the ghosts of visits to New England past and came away with the spoils of victory. Onward.
—Joe
12
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Father—
VICTORY! Twas a brutal struggle but our defense held firm as McPherson’s Battery blasted away again and again. And again. And yet again. While we return home with King Henry’s crown on a platter, please tell Mother we aren’t done yet. Not at all. But first, a cigar.
—Joe
15
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Father—
We intercepted an enemy dispatch referencing the upcoming struggle “at Fort Burrowhead.” Peculiar. I reckon their post name was changed after we secured a dramatic victory there a year ago. The enclosed reconnaissance photo from our scouts confirms this. I never.
—Joe
14
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Father—
After yesterday’s debacle I remained in my dirty uniform for hours. I stared blankly into the campfire refusing to partake my bath. I’m plum angry. But my anger is only outweighed by a determination to unleash a hell in the weeks ahead that ain’t been seen before.
—Joe
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Father—
I rec’d your letter sharing Mother’s concern about army chow. I have a cook named Salazar who replicates Mother’s chicken recipe. A veteran named Ocho recommends a tavern named McDonald’s but I’ve yet to try their fare. Perhaps if we win Sunday, he’ll treat me there.
—Joe
11
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Father—
A curious development. Our scouts inform us tomorrow we shall take to the field up north to battle….elves. Tigers and elves. In the 19th century no less. I never. Please tell Mother not to worry. I shall bring her a pair of pointy elf shoes as a prize.
—Joe
9
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Father—
I intended to write about today’s skirmish, but I cannot. Do not ask.
—Joe
8
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Father—
The regimental roster is set and orders have arrived sending us back north. The Brownies are making a ruckus and we’re to quell any hopes they have of relevance. The excitement of a new campaign dawns. Eager to take to the field and commence our journey to glory.
—Joe
18
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Father—
When this campaign began, many thought we’d be retired to winter quarters by this time. ‘Tis not enough proving naysayers wrong, tho. I can smell victory. I can taste it. I want it all now. The pet ram. The copper cup. Everything. I want to
#RuleItAll
in
#SuperBowl
.
—Joe
9
125
1K
Father—
My presence is requested at Fort Great American to test fire my sidearm on the morrow. I’m to use a round, white, small caliber projectile for this demonstration. To prepare, I raided the hen house and tossed all the eggs I could find against the barn. Apologies.
—Joe
13
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Father—
I write of another victory, a glorious day. I proved the naysayers full of poppycock, drawing my sidearm early and often, picking targets at any range I desired. We had no need for the bird cage as no prisoners were taken. I live for days like this. Onward.
—Joe
9
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Father—
Upon our return to Fort Paul Brown, a cheering crowd of civilians roared as our carriages passed through the post gate. Several men were moved to tears. Simply inspiring. Set some empty whiskey bottles on the fence post for my return. I have a sidearm to maintain…
—Joe
8
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Father—
Recall the man Chase with whom I served in the bayou campaign. He was drafted into our ranks this year, performed admirably and decorated for valor multiple times. Please ask Mother if she’d make him one of her orange quilts. He’d be downright tickled. Grateful.
—Joe
5
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Father—
There are rumors the Brownies have my number. I’m sure this worries Mother. Please reassure her. I verified with my own eyes there is still a 9 emblazoned on my uniform. O, I have my number…and am prepared to burn it into the memory of every Brownie come Sunday.
—Joe
7
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1K
Father—
I am convinced heaven sees at present to smile upon us. All around Fort Paycor the citizenry of the Queen City stands united. I will not let them down. We shall defeat the Williams of Buffalo. There could be no greater vice than to fail in this endeavor. On to glory.
—Joe
13
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Father—
You’d be proud. We put making merry aside and began preparations for what’s next: the Brownies approach Fort Paycor. When last we met them on the shores of Erie I know not what happened. Enough. It’s time to set things aright. Please tell Mother I’m well.
—Joe
11
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Father—
Today I met with the papers a final time before we engage the enemy. They asked if I’m afraid. Damn right I’m afraid - afraid the rams may get away. We intend to fulfill our duty and bring back to the Queen City a triumph the likes of which they’ve never known.
—Joe
9
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1K
Father—
Report from Fort Paycor: I returned to training yesterday. My sidearm was true, showing no signs of rust and raising the spirits of the men. I even practiced the charge, running sprints across a field while the bugle blared. Please tell Mother. I declare I’m back.
—Joe
8
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1K
Father—
Today we shall engage in a great struggle, just another in a long campaign. Yet this time the stage feels larger, the magnitude greater. I live for this. I will not let you down. By the time this day is done, Ma Homes will wish he’d stuck to selling farm insurance.
—Joe
9
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1K
Father—
You may have read in the papers comments made by a previous member of this regiment. I take his words as balderdash, considering he quit on the men. Leaders don’t quit. I showed that at Arrowhead, I’ll show it tomorrow. I’ll never quit or surrender. Ever. To victory!
—Joe
13
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Father-
Glorious news! We found victory behind Mixon who ran to glory. What a Dey! Our dominance was such that the cats replaced the walking nightshirt with a cook mid-fray. It mattered not. I must buy Mixon a new banjo; he earned it today. Our spirits, high. Love to Mother.
—Joe
14
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Father—
Dispatch from HQ: “Your regiment is hereby notified the campaign has been extended.” We are uncertain where and when this shall occur but grateful for the opportunity. We have this business of the patriots to attend to at hand, but will learn more in the weeks ahead.
—Joe
6
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1K
Father—
I told the papers we’re here to make noise. I s’pose some have yet to hear the crack of my sidearm or the boom of McPherson’s Battery. For those who still don’t believe we
#RuleTheJungle
, we have 2 engagements left. Time for them to learn. We’re coming for it all.
—Joe
10
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Father—
From the field. We’ve been ordered to march to Baltimore to confront the angry flock of ravens once again. Our confidence is mighty. Our resolve is mightier. Our morale, so high Mixon broke out his banjo last night around the fire. Fortune smiles upon us.
—Joe
5
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1K
Father—
‘Tis final battle eve. The boys and I are ready for tomorrow’s brawl and a calm, yet confident tone pervades the rank and file once again. At my request, the cook has prepared us a feast for supper: rack of ram, with lots of spice. I believe I shall sleep quite well.
—Joe
5
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Father—
Many say Ma Homes is chiefly to blame for his defeat. I rather think we had something to do with it. No matter. As I wrote in my reply to you on 12 Aug last, I’m certain we shall persevere in our quest for the ultimate victory. We’re going to shock the world.
—Joe
10
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1K
Father—
Another victory! It was dour early, so I holstered my sidearm and led a charge rallying the men: “Let’s Geaux!” Then, as our defense bent but didn’t break, I fired at will to Chase the enemy from the field.
—Joe
PS-The Red Rifle shall look magnificent over the fireplace.
9
98
1K
Father—
I’ve perused the early intelligence reports on these rams. Appears they gain great power from a secret weapon that plagues opposing forces, some kind of copper cup. We worry not. I intend to enjoy a cigar and toast our victory with a cold beer from this cup.
—Joe
9
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1K
Father—
We’ve been ordered up to Cleveland to engage a legion of Brownies on Monday next. I’m told Brownies are small men dressed as sprites or such. Since it shall be All Hallow’s Eve, we’ve been warned they may try to masquerade as a worthy opponent. I’m worried not.
—Joe
12
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1K
Father—
Near the end of yesterday’s struggle I let loose a loud war cry that, shall we say, is abbreviated “LFG!!!” I was caught up in the moment and proud of the men in what I’d call my favorite victory to date. Please share with Mother before she reads it in the papers.
—Joe
12
91
1K