I came across this thread yesterday.

I first met Philip Richard Mansell, known to everybody bar his mum as "Hank" in 1978, when we both worked at the Law Courts, in the Strand. Hank was already well known as a local character, his fondness for "A pint of bitter-in a jug, please", and hot curries were known to most who worked in the Law Courts, or who drank in the nearby pubs (in those days the two were practically synonymous). Hank's diet of beer and curry did not make him popular with everybody, on one evening he literally cleared the front bar of the George in the Strand, with the exception of the Glaswegian barmaid who stood at her post when all save her had fled.

The nickname "Hank" (from "Hank L Bush") had been bestowed a few years earlier, when he had worn an enormous beard which in his own words had "Taken over my face". I did see a photo of the said beard, and indeed it was a shocker. His Arsenal season ticket bore the name "Mr H L Mansell", and after a few beers he would often vocalise Arsenal songs. I write "vocalise" since to write that he "sang" the songs would be inaccurate.

His career in the Law Courts came to an end when some of his colleagues sent a round robin to the chief clerk complaining about his "personal habits" i.e his farting. Hank got his revenge a few months later, when he gate crashed their Christmas Party and drank most of their beer.

In 1979, Hank & I were among a party of eleven who travelled in a minibus to the Munich beer festival. Hank left home in such a hurry that he forgot to pack a change of clothing, which was unfortunate since he became so drunk the first night that he made a mess of himself, and was seen the following morning walking around the campsite wearing just his raincoat, socks, and shoes.

It has been mentioned that Hank got himself into a few scrapes, most of these were due to sheer bad luck. One example was one night after a particularly heavy evening, he fell asleep on the tube & woke up at the end of the line after the last train going home had left. He decided to stay the night, but woke up around 0300 feeling cold. So he began walking up and down the platform rubbing his hands together so as to keep warm. Unfortunately, some insomniac old biddy in a house next to the railway line was looking out of her window & saw him, she promptly rang the police, & Hank ended up with a conviction for Trespass. On another occasion, Hank was at the Cambridge Beer Festival with some of his London friends when he was arrested by undercover police looking for drugs. The irony was that Hank was probably the only person in that group of people who did NOT have anything on them.

The last time that I met Hank was in 1982. I have wondered for years what became of him, and whilst I am sad that he is no longer with us, it is nice to read that he found a good crowd of friends, and he had a happy time.

So long Hank, and thanks for all the good times & great memories.