As a tribute to the spirit of Prohibition, and in its never-ending quest for more power over our lives, the federal government has pushed the minimum age for purchasing tobacco from 18 to 21. Believing that it knows more about how we should live our lives than we do, Washington has usurped state authority and is dictating terms. The government doesn’t mind sending those aged 18-20 to die in war zones, but it pretends concern over the possible health consequences of tobacco use in the distant future, which result from the choices people make as free adults.
Children shouldn’t smoke, but 18-year-olds are supposed to be adults. Yes, prolonged smoking can lead to health problems later in life. But years ago, when I was in Afghanistan, tobacco helped us make it through the moment.
When I first arrived in Afghanistan in 2004, my fellow soldiers and I lived in a mud-stone residence in the city of Farah. Like all Afghan properties, it was surrounded by high mud-brick walls. One wall bordered the street, while the other three were shared with neighbors. The flat roof of the converted stables against the back wall ran right up against the roof on the other side of the wall. Anyone could run over these roofs to attack us. Or the Taliban could have simply lobbed grenades over our walls.
Guard duty was thus very important. Four positions were always manned at intervals along the perimeter. Soldiers spent hours standing on concrete platforms where they could look and shoot over the wall.
Generally speaking, guard duty is not that hard. One must watch over nothing and make sure it remains nothing. Our problem was that this temporary base couldn’t support enough soldiers for a proper duty and guard rotation. If we had a mission while trying to sleep off an overnight guard shift, we lost sleep.
The resulting exhaustion made it difficult to remain awake on guard duty. I’d slap my own face to ward off sleep. I’d be so tired that I’d hallucinate, seeing people or food that quickly vanished. Punishment for sleeping on guard duty was extreme — and for good reason. We had to keep the watch to keep our brothers-in-arms safe.
Smoking inexpensive cigars proved helpful in remaining awake. They helped me to continue doing something so that I wouldn’t fall asleep. My favorites were Swisher Wood Tips, which weren’t available in Afghanistan. I wrote to the company to ask to purchase the cigars directly. But the folks at Swisher wouldn’t sell them to me. Instead, they sent a big box packed with cigars, more than might be for sale in a gas station back home. All free. “Thank you for your service,” said the letter. “Good luck over there.”
I passed packs of cigars around to all the guys. They were a great morale booster and sleep deterrent. Impressed by Swisher’s generosity, I wrote the company a letter, thanking them for helping us stay awake on guard duty and protect our fellow soldiers. I didn’t expect a reply, but soon, another box full of cigars arrived. “Here’s some more cigars to help you on guard duty,” Swisher said. “Thanks for fighting for our freedom.”
“Thank you for fighting for us soldiers. And God bless you, Swisher,” I said aloud. “Today, smoking will save lives.”
We all remained well supplied with cigars. There were no breaches in our guard perimeter. Everyone in my unit made it safely home. In the 15 years since then, I’ve enjoyed other cigars. But once in a while, I still like one of those old Swisher Wood Tips. They taste and smell of freedom. A freedom the federal government now denies to millions of American adults, including some of those it sends to war.
Trent Reedy served as a combat engineer in the Iowa National Guard from 1999 to 2005, including a tour of duty in Afghanistan.
