Smoke ‘Em If Ya Got ‘Em

A Defense Department study urged that the US military become tobacco free, the study no doubt written by the same people who say kids should not climb trees or play on playground jungle bars. Men who go into combat don’t care about their health forty years down the line, they care about the next forty minutes. Fortunately, cooler heads prevailed, and the Defense Department insisted it would not implement the no tobacco policy. Anyone who has ever watched an old WWII movie will be struck by the way wounded soldiers would ask the medic or the Padre for a cigarette while on a stretcher, waiting to be evacuated to the aid station.

 

 

Yes GIs craved smokes even when they got hit

From Padres who asked them to pray

And nobody said that they really should quit

For they knew they could die the next day

They used them for money right after the war

When nylons and Luckies were king

From whiskey and wine and to ladies galore

It sure beat White Christmas by Bing

When shells were still flying and Tigers still lurked

Round the corner with gun pointed south

And the GI pinned down needed something that worked

Like a panzerfaust punch to the mouth

But the days of the terror and pain were now past

And the ruins of Europe lay waste

And the rations held Luckies or Camels that cast

A glow of contentment and taste

Those days are now distant but memories still

To those who survived to tell tales

Of the battling bastards the Krauts could not kill

Leaving debt much too big for the scales

 

But that was then. Now there are those who would deny our military the freedom to smoke if they wanted to, even as their Commander-In-Chief, President Barack Obama, admits he sneaks a cigarette now and then. No, today, if you smoke, you are a criminal, a danger to society, to be scorned and vilified by the tobacco police and the sheep who listen to them.

 

 

They’re against the folks

Who like their smokes

They’re makin’ them a criminal

But for some blokes

There’s different strokes

The lesson here’s subliminal

If you’re Joe Doaks

The butt of jokes

A redneck like yo mama

You take your pokes

And nasty jokes

But at least you don’t sneak ‘em like that smiley hopey changey guy Obama

 

 

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