It was Camp Ramadi, Iraq. I was at my work station engaged and focused when the most senior enlisted member of our unit approached me. This man is all of 6’-3” (190.5cm), 230lbs (104kg), his stature gigantic, voice thunderous, when he walks in any room it is know. Soldiers see him and you can see the look of “I just soiled myself” women see him and the look is the same but it’s more pleasure and embarrassment than it is fear.  Chief what are you doing? He say’s to me in as calm as I’ve heard him speak.  Me, shocked that he’s speaking to me looks up and say’s “shit, just working on this report.”  He nods, surveys the room as he confirms that it’s just him and I. “You need a break, come with me, I got something for you.” At the moment a break is exactly what I didn’t need, but he’s not the type of man you say no to.  We approached this shaded area, two lawn chairs with a wonderful view of the T- wall’s, the only thing separating us from the enemy.  He pulls out two cigars and handed me one. “You smoke?”, he ask, “I do now”, we both laughed, he showed me how to cut it and light it and then explained that you don’t inhale just pull, taste the cigar and release.  For that one hour, two alpha men sat in peace during war.  We talked about everything two alpha men talk about, everything but the situation around us.  As the cigar’s slowly burns to the end he stood up, looked at the walls and said “Aight Chief, this was good I really needed this.” I took one more pull, stood up, looked at the walls, exhaled, and said, “Roger that.” That became our Sunday ritual.  We would grab each other, head to our little place of peace.  Ever since then cigars has been my peace, it’s been my break from the madness around me.