Laurence and I first met when he joined PTS (RI 104) in October 1975.
 
After passing out Larry joined me in Marine. He was indeed an iconic sight taking the old, single-track KCR from TST and striding down Tai Po Kau Station in his Solar Topee informing all and sundry (amazed tourists mainly) that he had priority on the train as he was on Her Majesty’s Service. Western Mess became the centre of many a bon-ban’s hooley and when Mr Knox decided to arrange an overseas holiday for us young buck’s it was inevitable that it was in true Rudyard Kipling fashion and involved a tortuous train journey from Singapore to Bangkok via the rubber plantations of Malaya. He had always wanted to order a ‘Gin Pahit’, but was greatly disappointed when he discovered in the Long Bar at Raffles that Gin Pahit was simply Malay for “Pink Gin”. Humph! “Think I’ll stick to Bush Mills!”. That first visit to Bangkok opened many folk’s eye’s … but one sight I had not expected to see as we all left the hotel that first evening for our inaugural night on the town was Laurence resplendent on his hotel balcony, pipe in hand reading his latest tome on the British Raj.
 
Larry’s next posting took him to Mui Wo as ASDI. Many was the evening that Ruth and I would call in on him at his rather splendid station quarter as we were on our way either to or from the ferry. That practice of calling in on the ever-welcoming Laurence continued throughout our next few tours as whenever Ruth was away in Blighty with the kids, Larry would inevitably end up having to look after me with his always splendid meals and gushing hospitality.
 
On our first leave, Laurence was kind enough to fly over from his home in Northern Ireland to attend our wedding in Liverpool in January 1979. To my utter amazement he immediately fitted in seamlessly with all the scousers, simply remarking, “… to walk with Kings nor lose the common touch”, a mantra that stood him very well throughout the rest of his most colourful life.
 
On returning to HK, Laurence and I then did a tour in SB, where he was always the personification of Our Man in Hong Kong, immaculately dressed, courtesy of ‘Sam the Tailor’. Larry was in many ways the archetypal colonial policeman living on a diet of whiskey, fags and ensuring that at no time did he engage in anything approaching physical exercise. But despite these efforts, unlike the rest of his comrades who quickly seemed to managed to balloon to 16 stones, Laurence always remained a svelte-like 9 stones, dripping wet.
 
My enduring memory of the “Erskin Knox” occurred some 20 years ago when on leave back in UK one summer. Myself and Martin Heyes were at HMS Victory in Portsmouth one afternoon when we decided, very much on the spur of the moment, that we would visit LCK. So we drove across to Wivenhoe where at short notice Larry had arranged for us to meet up with some of our old chums, Ian Ward and Wally Murrison. A splendid evening was had with LCK the perfect host. A little too perfect it turned out, which we all very much regretted the next morning. Feeling very much worse for wear we woke up to a scene which more resembled the aftermath of the Battle of Waterloo. Knox with his inimitable calmness entered the living room garbed in his silk dressing gown, mopped a fevered brow and stepping over various prostrate bodies enquired if anyone was up for some sustenance? After preparing some Bloody Marys with a sprig of celery (naturally) he then produced a saucepan which he carefully filled with an inch of water. As it came to the boil he then very carefully placed one large tomato into it. “What are you doing for Christ’s sake?” I asked. “Oh, just removing the skin before I prepare the brekky” he replied, bemused at why such an extravagant action should even raise an eyebrow! Surely everyone prepares their tomatoes to be skinless beforehand?
 
Wherever you are now Laurence we trust that you are having your inimitable chuckle at us all. We miss you dear friend. You were indeed one of a kind.
 
Ross & Ruth Mitchell