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Mickey Christened Me
Micky was all things to all men, especially when he was on the make. He was unscrupulous, but one could not help liking the bugger, even if you were one of his victims, even when he had pulled a fast one on you, you still could not help liking the bloke. He was so convincing as to his innocence, against all the evidence to the contrary. He would look one straight in the eye and protest that he had done nothing wrong, although he was as guilty as hell. " What me Spooz? How could you, of all people, believe that I would do something like that?”
That hurt, painful, unbelieving look, to think that I of all people, his mate, would think that he, so sincere, so honest, so innocent looking Mickey…. so much, that you began to doubt and regret your accusations. That he could be capable of any wrongdoing, the firm denials! Do not get me wrong, Micky was a likeable, even lovable bloke, great sense of humour. He had the habit of abbreviating ones surname. The reborn or re-christened individuals did not resent it; in fact they seemed to enjoy it.
For instance, my name, Spooner. Micky abbreviated it to"Spooz". No longer was I called "utensil, forker, knifer”, but just plain "Spooz". So, thanks to Mr. Michael Myles, for the remainder of my stay in the army, it was Spooz, and of course my army number (3054167).
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