Anyone who has ever travelled on the Tube will know that the British famously travel in silence. Never mind the fact that the Tube train is absolutely full, you’d be able to hear a pin drop over the soft rustle of the newspapers and hushed shuffling of feet.

Travelling on the train is much the same – the vast majority of people on the train are regular commuters, reading their newspapers, working on documents, or checking their e-mail on their Blackberries. Those who travel together may chat quietly, but they’re always aware of those around them. Occasionally mobile phones ring, met with a roll of the eyes from other passengers, but generally callers have moved beyond shouting “I’M ON THE TRAIN…THE TRAIN!” and keep their conversations quiet and short.

I say “generally” because there’s always an exception to every rule. Avid readers of my blog will have already been introduced to Ms Squeaky, the woman who loves to chat on her mobile phone for the entire commute each day. For those who are interested, it appears that she’s now back with her boyfriend, though they’re on shaky ground. But that’s not important – what’s important is that this woman breaks the unspoken rules of silent travel, day after day.

An Englishman is characterised by his endless patience and his stiff upper lip. He’s raised on a lifetime of “mustn’t grumble” and silently and stoically endures the worst that life throws at him.

But every man, even an Englishman, has his breaking point. And when one of his inviolable rules has been broken, he lashes out.

And so it was on my train this morning.

The tension has been building up for several days. One passenger has been exchanging frustrated glances with another. Comments muttered under one’s breath. A collective sigh of relief as we all stepped off the train.

This morning, though, one of our number snapped. After Ms Squeaky made her third phone call of the morning, the gent sitting next to her pointed out just how inconsiderate her phoning was. This was met with cheers from the other passengers. Backed into a corner, Ms Squeaky became defensive and proceeded to assert her “rights” to telephone, and began to call our chap all manner of colourful names. She threatened to make a complaint to the railways authority. She demanded that he stop taking her seat on the train. And she demanded that he stop taking the train all together, as he was too annoying to bear.

It all got ugly very quickly.

I, on the other hand, reverted to that other stalwart of Englishness. I spent the next 40 minutes studying a Powerpoint slide and avoiding eye contact with anyone else.

I’m no fool. The safest place in any battle is beneath the parapet!