No, no, no...you've got it all wrong, Blake! This is the age of the computer. Instead of cluttering up and overtaxing the physical mail systems with reams of handwritten moves on paper, we need only use our computers as typewriters and reformatters, first composing our movement instructions and then burning them onto those plastic disks called CDs. Then we simply mail out the CD!

However, I must protest this notion that because I am a Northerner I am somehow less deserving than those of you in the South, and therefore would be ineligible for social help from the Cabinet. I'll have you know that the Old Abe Tavern was created with open doors for everyone, and that our Southern friends were always welcomed to come in at any time and partake of both our hospitality and generosity, the bar being always well-stocked and the barmaids well-schooled in political correctness. I'll admit that some of our AotT officers are hardcore Yankees, and have not always put their best foot forward whenever Confederate officers have entered. But they must be forgiven for their ways as they are our best fighters!
But just look at the mess that your Western Theater Commander has left of the place! All of the wiskey is gone, none but dregs remain in the beer barrels, and the wine cellar has been stripped bare. Things have been so badly depleted that there is now a large contingent of my officers sitting out back of the tavern sipping their own home-brewed tea!