Author's notes about these
Military Support Cigar Chronicles

While not necessarily beating the drum for the cigar industry, it is a reality that smoking cigars is one of the few pastimes permitted soldiers in Iraq. Under Coalition command policy - General Order #1 - troops are forbidden to consume alcoholic beverages, and, it goes without saying, illegal drug use is prohibited and thankfully minimal. Partially as a consequence, most all soldiers either smoke cigarettes or cigars or use smokeless tobacco products. Of the three I personally consider cigars the most benign.
        
There is camaraderie among military people - even when old-timers like me interact with the younger generation - that transcends age, race, sex, or time served. Cigar smoking in Iraq played a large part in renewing that spirit for me and in building bridges across generations.
        
So I'm offering for your enjoyment a few stories from my too-brief time spent with the soldiers and thereby hope to give you a brief glimpse into life with the military police in Baghdad and beyond.

— Gordon Cucullu

A Seagull Named Rocket

It was while we were smoking cigars outside on the veranda of one of Saddam's "minor" palaces that now headquarters Colonel Mark Spindler and his 18th MP Brigade that I learned the story of a rather unique seagull.

I first heard the story while smoking cigars one evening with my friend Lieutenant Colonel Tom Lombardo, the operations officer of the 18th Brigade. "Not long ago," Lombardo began, "were took a lot of IDF, mostly rockets. Several hit the lake here as well as coming close enough to the palace to shatter all of the windows out. One of them it on that island out there. It wounded a seagull.

"We watched him try to fly but he couldn't because his left wing was injured. He'd flap but not get anywhere."

But he could swim. So with the remarkable ingenuity that animals display, the seagull swam up to the veranda and began to be fed by the soldiers of the 18th Brigade. "The soldiers named him 'Rocket'," Lombardo said with a chuckle. "He trusts a couple of them now enough to eat from their hands."

During the day I was able to observe Rocket's routine. With amazing aplomb the little bird swam up to the edge of the veranda and picked through food tossed down by the soldiers. Since morning chow is brought into Brigade in mermite cans (sealed thermos containers designed to keep food warm), and there are always leftovers, Rocket (and many of the large golden carp in the lake), usually receive a bacon-and-scrambled eggs breakfast. Later in the day, snacks from the "HE" Brews Cafe are cracked up and fed to the bird.

— Gordon Cucullu

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