Riding the express train from Berlin to Prague with my wife and daughter, about a four and one-half or five hour journey, we were seated in an open cabin just a few rows behind a boisterous group of eight or so German speaking youths. They had arrayed themselves around one of the mid-car table seating areas and seemed to be priming the pump for a stag weekend in Prague. There was much moving about, slapping down of cards, passing the bottle, and an endless stream of shouting - in mostly unintelligible (to me) Deutsch – but with enough off-color interjections in English to pique my attention and grasp the spirit of their revelry. The scene was curious at first but grew increasingly tiresome as our trip progressed. As we approached Prague after several hours of this, an apparently Czech man stood and sternly addressed the group. “You have been yelling all the time since Berlin, disturbing fifty other people for hours. I am asking you now for five minutes of peace before I get off this train. I don’t want to hear another sound from you. Just give me five minutes of peace.” He was traveling with a rather burly companion, who remained standing - motionless - with his dark eyes fixed upon the group until the train slowed to a stop on the outskirts of Prague. The two gathered themselves and disembarked. There was indeed quiet for those few minutes. I wish I could say I applauded as they passed in the aisle, but I didn’t. Afterward I thought to myself, “English – the language of diplomacy. “