It was the middle of the night and I was thinking back on the events of the previous day and my long and enjoyable phone call with John McEntee. 'John, good natured but fiery, McEntee,' would be an apt description of him as a younger man and I know he would smile and admit that, that person still existed on the odd occasion today. Even if, like me, John is now well into his seventies.
My active mind took me back to a world of reminiscing and I found myself standing outside Shamley Green's village hall. There were a crowd of us gathered there, all male, and the nineteen year old me was watching and listening to the potential fiery eighteen year old John correcting one of the lads who had been boasting of his exploits with a local lass the night before. "She's a lovely lady," John said, "and if you struck lucky, keep it to yourself!" There was a finality to John's comments that the boaster failed to recognise until he heard the ice in Johns voice and he wisely became quiet. Back in the real world, far away from that of reminiscing, I found myself softly saying, "God Bless You John," for I was proud of my friend for defending that girls honour. We shared a code, John McEntee and I, that's still alive even though fifty plus years have passed since he shut the mouth of that boaster.