What is the most disrespectful thing someone did to you while you were on an airplane?

What is the most disrespectful thing someone did to you while you were on an airplane?

Long ago during the Cold War we used to practice rapid re-inforcement of the armies in Germany to forestall any sudden invasion by the Soviet armies on the other side of the border.

To carry out the mammoth task of moving several tens of thousands of UK based soldiers an intricate plan involving ferries and chartered ships and military and chartered aircraft was conceived and rehearsed from time to time.

I was in the UK and I had to reach a rather wet and muddly location near the river Weser, close by Hamelin of pied piper fame. My orders required me to assemble my people in good order with all their equipment and weapons and to report to a numbered bus at a given place and time. The bus took us to the back gate of Heathrow Airport where we queued to be loaded onto a chartered aircraft.

The chartered aircraft was a long haul Tristar (or similar three engine ‘plane) and it was crewed by its normal crew all dolled out in their smart uniforms with tight skirts and natty caps . . . . From the top of the steps at either end they saw a long line, four abreast, of assorted soldiery. Not just people but all their kit and assorted rifles, machine guns, sub-machine guns and the odd bit of specialist gear carried by individuals, fortunately mine was in a natty brown case with no sharp corners along with sandwiches, fruit and cold tea.

The chief of the cabin crew threw a fit, it appeared that no one had considered the amount of stuff that we were carrying and it was quite clear that no arrangements had been made to load the holds and pretty much every seat had been allocated. Maybe they thought that we went to war with a single roll on! It took three times the time to load as had been predicted and every nook and cranny was stuffed with packs, cases, webbing harness sets and sundry sleep mats and sleeping bags.

Our hardware presented the greatest problem. All those nasty guns, metal bits, bits that poked out and might damage the pristine interior of the aircraft and glistening with oil just waiting to mark the fabric surfaces. The cabin supervisor decided that they must be surrendered up and packed in a single area. Our collective response was “Not bloody likely, I signed for this exact one and I’m not letting go . . .” She decided to try to force the issue and approached me (as I was the nearest person exhibiting authority organising my people) snarling “give me your weapon” and looking round to identify my rifle. A bit of a problem as I only had a pistol and that was tucked away in a covered holster.

Thwarted she then insisted that I order my ‘people’ to give her their ‘guns’ . . . There followed a to and fro discussion of demands and refusals until the ‘plane driver pitched up. I explained our reluctance to be parted from items that we had signed for and a truce was negotiated with the agreement that we would keep the nasty things from scratching or marking the furnishings.

As our ‘plane driver revved up the engines and got us into the queue for take off the cabin chief barked her orders over the cabin speakers ending with the immortal words “This is a short flight, I want to see you buckled in holding your weapon erect between your legs. If you don’t keep it upright, where we can see it, keeping any fluids off the seats then the cabin crew will come and seize it!”

 And so we went to war . . . ! Accompanied by gales of laughter, I really don’t think she realised what she had said to conjure images in the minds of the licentious soldiery.