General Heupel

Vols, Tumultuous times echo across commands in this country. I have found it necessary to relieve the officer charged with guardianship of our defenses. I now call on a man, whose beard shines like the moon on the Holston & could be a rendered a biblical patriarch. Til VOLhalla

Vols, Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the trees. Til VOLhalla

Vols, A railroad man sends his private flotilla to attack on the Tennessee. We have prepared the defenses & await the shootout. Their insolent leader must be given the bayonet. Shall victory ensue, this state will remain firmly ours through the new year. Til VOLhalla

Vols, A slaughter to the likes of which I’ve never seen. Our entire army shall be clad in gator skin & the storehouses are full for winter. Til VOLhalla

Vols, We advance south. Though this campaign has soured, our boys know the magnitude this coming struggle bears. Victory in the Swamp has eluded us since the Bush Administration, but by God’s grace we’ll be outfitted with gator skin boots for the final stand. Til VOLhalla

Vols, Victory alas. I pray our momentum carries into the land of denim & gators. Til VOLhalla

Vols, A solemn week has passed & our resolve has renewed to thwart the Aggie invader. Should our defense quell the initial assaults, a route should ensue & restore our honor. Til VOLhalla

Vols, Death. Til VOLhalla

Vols, The coming struggle will decide our fateful campaign. In a change of course, the homesteaders have reared their wagons & swung towards the rising sun. Duty will have me give the bayonet to my Alma Mater & we shall do so clad in the garb of the night. Til VOLhalla

Vols, Victory alas. A welcomed slaughter has ensued & we return to Knoxville with a barrel of ale. Til VOLhalla

Vols, Duty summons us to clash our bluegrass foe. The black diamond that fuels our cause lies in peril, urging our swift march northward. Strange, their fortress doubles as a storehouse for rations. By God’s grace, we shall hold fast the barrel of victory. Til VOLhalla

Vols, It is my melancholy duty to bid General Vitello a soldier’s fond adieu. Fate has called you to a bayside bastion & your country weeps with your departure. I pray to see you again beneath calmer skies my friend. Til VOLhalla

Vols, The smell of tobacco pierces my soul. Halfway into the struggle, a failed assault, undone by folly, quelled our heartened effort. We shall retreat in good order, though missed opportunities will haunt this solemn march. Til VOLhalla

Vols, We march south with bellies fortified by pork. A showdown looms with stakes higher than the tusked beasts. Our own blood, a wayward brother, commands the ivory incestors & will be shown no mercy for his transgressions. Our campaign hangs in the balance. Til VOLhalla

Vols, Extra rations of bacon have been procured. A gallant second effort rid these lands of the swine invader. We now prepare for the hordes of inbred tusks. Til VOLhalla

Vols, Our stores brim with hickory & oak. The rubs have been prepared. Neyland shall echo with spirited charges, yet Woo Pig will falter to roars of Rocky Top. Come Saturday, Calhoun’s shan’t be the sole BBQ on the river. Til VOLhalla

Vols, Victory, alas! The Magnolia State lies in cinders, our noble crusade presses onward. My heart yearns for hearth and kin, and the trek back to God’s country commences. A fortnight’s repose, shall precede the grand swine feast. Til VOLhalla

Vols, We move steadily through the land of cotton, clad in orange brighter than a delta sunset. It will take more than galling cowbells & Mississippi mud to slow our advance. I intend to unleash the fullness of our armament & secure a foothold in the west. Til VOLhalla

Vols, The ballistas littered the scaled beasts upon the ramparts. Our valiant Latin Lt., steadfast at his post, continues to rain destruction with his howitzer, while our ground assault pierces any defense they counter. We soon march west to quell a cowbell revolt. Til VOLhalla

Vols, My heart has slowly mended & preparations have begun for the fire breathing beasts. I have employed House Greyjoy to construct mounted Scorpions upon our sacred ramparts, to deal a crushing volley upon the Valyrian invader. Til VOLhalla