When I was stationed at Myrtle Beach, S.C., I spent my spare time fishing in the backwaters of the Intracoastal Waterway. Soon I became a guide of sorts for some senior non-commissioned officers.

Once, a chief master sergeant hooked a 20-pound striped bass. After he reeled the fish onto the boat, he slipped the hook out of its mouth and released it back into the water.

He must have noticed the puzzled look on my face.

"Rank does have its privileges. I can't keep a fish that has more stripes than I do," he explained.