I really love reading Churchill because he fucking makes anything sound dramatic. Here's him talking about visiting FDR and deciding the seating arrangement in the car:

We had a dispute about where we should it in the car for this three-hour journey. Alike by his rank and from his infirmity there was only one place for the President. Mrs. Roosevelt wished to sit in one of the small front seats, and put me next to the President. I would not have this, and the British Empire went into action. After about three minutes' conflict of wills I won, and Mrs. Roosevelt took her proper place by her husband's side. ^*

He fucking invoked the British Empire for this little incident. Just for this! Imagine him with actual battle scenes.

^* Winston S. Churchil, The Second World War: The Hinge of Fate (Boston: Hougton Mifflin Company, 1950), 795.