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Professor AK Mant 1919–2000
OBITUARY
Professor A K Mant 1919-2000 Writing an old friend's obituary is both a sad and a difficult task. Some factual things have to be said about a man who reached the top of his profession but there is so much more that one wants to say about one who was, above all, a kind and caring colleague and companion to all who came close to him. One's abiding memory of Keith is not that of a superb technician at the autopsy table but, rather, that of a country gentleman showing off his newest orchid with all the pride of a recent father. Arthur Keith Mant was born in 1919 -just in time to experience active war service in the Royal Army Medical Corps. Chance, which is at its most merciless in the military environment, found him appointed, soon after the armistice, as officer i/c the pathology wing of one of the several Allied War Crimes Investigating Teams, his major function being to supervise and undertake exhumations and autopsy examinations of, mainly, British and other allied air crew whose mode of death was suspect. Quite how much exposure to post-mortem pathology he had had by this time is uncertain; however, since we were almost exact contemporaries, I know that it cannot have been much. Looking back, the mind boggles at the enormity of the task itself and of its associated responsibilities. Nevertheless, the project was successfully accomplished and, in building up a data base of expertise, Mant virtually established himself as the father of the investigation of genocide. I, myself, was to benefit enormously from his wide and willingly shared experience when I later became heavily involved in major disasters. Success brought its rewards, and shaped his future, when he was invited to assume a major role in the wider field of unearthing medical war crimes and it was almost inevitable that he should have found his niche in the Department of Forensic Medicine at Guy's Hospital when he was demobbed in 1948. His academic progression to head of department in 1972 and to a personal chair in 1974 was predictable on his merits as a practitioner and a teacher and he retired in 1984 while still carrying on as one of the most respected forensic pathologists in the United Kingdom. This, together with a demand for his services as a lecturer, took him round the world on a regular basis and his international reputation was second to none. Even so, Keith was remarkably unassuming both in private life and as a professional. He took on little of the flamboyancy of previous generations of forensic pathologists and it was this, perhaps, that made him such a reliable and soughtafter witness - and many of his major cases were kegs of political dynamite. His opinion lost nothing in authority but, at the same time, those listening to him knew that it had been reached after careful thought and appreciation of the alternatives. In private life, he was similarly gifted with a Science & Justice 2001; 41(1): 67
0 The Forensic Science Society
remarkable charm - Keith was the sort of person you wanted to be placed next to at dinner. He carried this characteristic into a number of presidencies of learned societies including that of the British Academy of Forensic Scientists, the Forensic Science Society and the International Association of Traffic Medicine - one of his favourites, as he was fully convinced of the important role of the forensic pathologist in preventive medicine. He was, of course, a past President of the British Association in Forensic Medicine and, at the time of his death, was its longest surviving Fellow. Keith was hard hit by the premature death of his wife Heather - herself an equally popular member of the forensic fraternity - and, towards the end of his life, he suffered from considerable ill-health. This, he bore uncomplainingly and with much bravery. It did not stop him enjoying a glass of Jack Daniels - a habit derived from his long association with the office of the Chief Medical Examiner for Virginia - nor did it stop him sharing the pleasure with his friends. He died where he was born, in Surrey, and, for some reason, that seems just the right place, because he was a home loving man. Every now and again, the death of a colleague leaves a real hole in one's tapestry of life. There will be many who lived and worked with Keith Mant who will feel that way. JK MASON
Professor A K Mant 1919-2000 Writing an old friend's obituary is both a sad and a difficult task. Some factual things have to be said about a man who reached the top of his profession but there is so much more that one wants to say about one who was, above all, a kind and caring colleague and companion to all who came close to him. One's abiding memory of Keith is not that of a superb technician at the autopsy table but, rather, that of a country gentleman showing off his newest orchid with all the pride of a recent father. Arthur Keith Mant was born in 1919 -just in time to experience active war service in the Royal Army Medical Corps. Chance, which is at its most merciless in the military environment, found him appointed, soon after the armistice, as officer i/c the pathology wing of one of the several Allied War Crimes Investigating Teams, his major function being to supervise and undertake exhumations and autopsy examinations of, mainly, British and other allied air crew whose mode of death was suspect. Quite how much exposure to post-mortem pathology he had had by this time is uncertain; however, since we were almost exact contemporaries, I know that it cannot have been much. Looking back, the mind boggles at the enormity of the task itself and of its associated responsibilities. Nevertheless, the project was successfully accomplished and, in building up a data base of expertise, Mant virtually established himself as the father of the investigation of genocide. I, myself, was to benefit enormously from his wide and willingly shared experience when I later became heavily involved in major disasters. Success brought its rewards, and shaped his future, when he was invited to assume a major role in the wider field of unearthing medical war crimes and it was almost inevitable that he should have found his niche in the Department of Forensic Medicine at Guy's Hospital when he was demobbed in 1948. His academic progression to head of department in 1972 and to a personal chair in 1974 was predictable on his merits as a practitioner and a teacher and he retired in 1984 while still carrying on as one of the most respected forensic pathologists in the United Kingdom. This, together with a demand for his services as a lecturer, took him round the world on a regular basis and his international reputation was second to none. Even so, Keith was remarkably unassuming both in private life and as a professional. He took on little of the flamboyancy of previous generations of forensic pathologists and it was this, perhaps, that made him such a reliable and soughtafter witness - and many of his major cases were kegs of political dynamite. His opinion lost nothing in authority but, at the same time, those listening to him knew that it had been reached after careful thought and appreciation of the alternatives. In private life, he was similarly gifted with a Science & Justice 2001; 41(1): 67
0 The Forensic Science Society
remarkable charm - Keith was the sort of person you wanted to be placed next to at dinner. He carried this characteristic into a number of presidencies of learned societies including that of the British Academy of Forensic Scientists, the Forensic Science Society and the International Association of Traffic Medicine - one of his favourites, as he was fully convinced of the important role of the forensic pathologist in preventive medicine. He was, of course, a past President of the British Association in Forensic Medicine and, at the time of his death, was its longest surviving Fellow. Keith was hard hit by the premature death of his wife Heather - herself an equally popular member of the forensic fraternity - and, towards the end of his life, he suffered from considerable ill-health. This, he bore uncomplainingly and with much bravery. It did not stop him enjoying a glass of Jack Daniels - a habit derived from his long association with the office of the Chief Medical Examiner for Virginia - nor did it stop him sharing the pleasure with his friends. He died where he was born, in Surrey, and, for some reason, that seems just the right place, because he was a home loving man. Every now and again, the death of a colleague leaves a real hole in one's tapestry of life. There will be many who lived and worked with Keith Mant who will feel that way. JK MASON