Mrs. Smith

One evening late in the war he was at the crowded bar of the then-smart Pyramid Club, in uniform, and behaving quite outrageously. Among the observers an elderly American Admiral had been growing more and more incensed. He now went over and tapped Teddie on the shoulder: "Lieutenant, you are a disgrace to the Service. I must insist on having your name and squadron." An awful silence fell. Teddie's newly-won wings glinted. He snapped shut his thin gold compact (from Hermes) and narrowed his eyes at the admiral. "My name," he said distinctly, "is Mrs. Smith."

A.H. Clarendon, "Time Was"