Rank Has Its Privileges

[angelwing]

Rank Has Its Privileges

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As the crowded airliner is about to take off, the peace is
shattered by a five-year-old boy who picks that moment to
throw a wild temper tantrum. No matter what his frustrated,
embarrassed mother does to try to calm him down, the boy
continues to scream furiously and kick the seats around him.

Suddenly, from the rear of the plane, an older man in the
uniform of an Air Force General is seen slowly walking
forward up the aisle. Stopping the flustered mother with an
upraised hand, the white-haired, courtly, soft-spoken
General leans down and, motioning toward his chest, whispers
something into the boy's ear.

Instantly, the boy calms down, gently takes his mother's
hand, and quietly fastens his seat belt.

All the other passengers burst into spontaneous applause. As
the General slowly makes his way back to his seat, one of
the cabin attendants touches his sleeve.

"Excuse me, General," she asks quietly, "but could I ask you
what magic words you used on that little boy?"

The old man smiles serenely and gently confides, "I showed
him my pilot's wings, service stars, and battle ribbons, and
explained that they entitle me to throw one passenger out
the plane door, on any flight I choose."