December 6, 2016
Dear Mr. Adams,
Despite endeavouring to remain off of all grids, news of the election has infiltrated camp. Factions have developed and allegiances are apparent in the countenances of the men and the groupings at mealtime. Lt. Stumps McGee moves with an improved gait and has drawn much envy and scorn from the other officers. He has many years of experience with gout and vitamin deficiency and therefore is at present a candidate for Secretary of Health and Human Services.
I see some honourable and decorated men disillusioned and angry, wandering without purpose or instruction from their posts and into the manured fields. L’Adrian mutilated his wheeled chair in a fit and thus for conveyance now mounts a large swine once intended for slaughter.
I harbor great distress that my abilities and military experience may not be equal to this extensive and important trust. Should the plague of hysteria continue to infect the army and rage its usual virulence, we should have more to dread from it than the sword of our enemies or Google glasses.
I regret heavily the decision to dispatch Teddy Sweatpants to town. He has returned with news of memes and taggings that are neither accurate nor sanctioned by this office, though I have neither the artillery nor the requisite men to disable their proliferation. How we may remain off grids, and still ensure the citizenry that I do not harbor an opinion on transgender latrines is a question that plagues my conscience upon each rising.
To restore discipline and unity I have instructed the men to forage for chicory and other rooted plants before first frost and stock the hovels with pickles and preserves.
Despite our difficulties, the cause does not suffer from want of recruits. Still today we received our first female enlistment. She emerged from the woods to the northeast, possessing only a fierce countenance and a threadbare pantsuit.
