A journey around our father: An appreciation of Leslie Francis Grech, 1923-2011

Dorothy Higgins,

David Grech, Christopher Grech

Leslie Grech, Barrister-at-law, passed away in the early hours of 10 June 2011. The abysmal void left by the passing of this modest, unassuming gentleman has been alleviated by a number of gifts: the kind thoughts and prayers as well as the flowers, wonderful letters and anecdotes of family, friends and communities in many countries. However two things, above all else, provide a measure of solace: many happy memories and the unique, dry wit that was our father. One of Leslie’s favourite responses when given presents of any type would be to claim an embarras de richesse; as children of a person who, especially to our mother’s ennui, eschewed accepted social and sartorial norms, provided us with many a richesse d’embarras. This appreciation attempts to weave together historical fact and familial recollections that might do justice to the wit of our dear departed head gardener.

With the passing of Leslie Grech we witness the demise of a generation of siblings: Sister Mary Peter (Joan, 1930-1964), Tony (1921-2001), Monsignor Maurice (1924-2003) and Myra (1929-2008). Leslie, like his two brothers, was born in the Seychelles Islands where his father, Squadron Leader Dr Wyndham Grech, LL.D, was serving in the British Colonial Legal Service. Leslie’s mother was Julia, née Vassallo. Leslie was born on 23 February 1923 in a world quite different from ours: amidst sandy white beaches and tropical palms where his parents attended dinners at the governor’s residence while Indian ayahs tended the infant children. Through an uncanny series of coincidences, while Leslie was a toddler various Egyptian politicians, having first been deported to Malta, were eventually exiled to the Seychelles. Amongst these exiles was Saad Zaghloul, one-time Prime Minister of Egypt, who was placed in the custody of Wyndham Grech. Zaghloul was soon befriended by the jovial Wyndham (whose uncle, Dr John Grech Mifsud, LLD, had been a judge in both the Native and Mixed Courts in Egypt). In later life, Leslie would claim he had the honour of being one of very few children who had been pushed around in his pram by a prime minister.

When Dr John Grech Mifsud, LL.D, passed away in 1926, Wyndham left the Seychelles to take over his uncle’s prestigious legal practice in Alexandria. The girls, being younger than the boys, attended schools in Egypt while Tony, Leslie and Maurice were sent to St Edward’s College in Malta – where Tony was a founder pupil. The outbreak of the Second World War found Leslie and Tony finishing their studies at Stonyhurst College – the Jesuit boarding school in Lancashire, England. Leslie was always interested in English literature and it seems that Stonyhurst – alma mater of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the celebrated creator of Sherlock Holmes – sparked off an abiding interest in the fabled sleuth. By the time Leslie finished his studies at Stonyhurst his school prizes included, amongst other titles, The Complete Sherlock Holmes short and long stories which he had read several times and accurately committed to memory so that, decades later, when watching televised interpretations of the stories he was able to pick out inaccuracies or short cuts. At Stonyhurst, Leslie had also caught the writing bug, winning a couple of school prizes with his essays, one of which was about Sir Francis Drake.

In February 1937, while Tony and Leslie were at Stonyhurst and their parents thousands of miles away in Egypt, they both contracted mastoiditis which lead to meningitis and underwent primitive radical mastoidectomies. For a few days their fate seemed in the balance as the whole school prayed for their safe recovery. Fortunately, both boys survived and travelled home to Alexandria to recuperate. A letter from their father to the headmaster at Stonyhurst gives an amusing status report; it is not difficult to see that Leslie shared his father’s sense of humour, even in grave matters of health:

“I enclose two letters from the boys. What Leslie says about settling down is not quite exact. We have not settled down, although the two Boys are the best of the crowd. (Leslie has developed a corpulency which would do honour to a worshipful Mayor and Tony seems to be growing upwards like a homesick angel that practically all their clothes will have to be renewed.) My wife is down with pharyngitis, my elder unmarried daughter (aged 8) is down with whooping cough, my younger one is successfully trying to imitate her and only lacks the actual whoop, our servant has had a cataract removed from his eye, our maid is developing housemaid’s knee, and even our dog is barking hoarsely. Added to all these troubles is the fact that my sister-in-law has been in hospital since January with seven fractures of her legs on account of a motorcar accident and the bones show a great reluctance to join. Still I am so grateful for the delivery of my boys that I cannot fail feeling thankful for everything. What a dismal letter; but I am keeping to the old motto “business as usual”.”

By September 1937, Tony and Leslie were back at Stonyhurst College to continue their studies. Influenced by family tradition (and possibly Sherlock Holmes’ analytical mind), Leslie decided to study law and, given the circumstances, crammed his studies and passed his Bar Finals at the Trinity Term Examinations of 1941. He managed to do this in approximately half the time usually required. During his studies in London, Leslie was still a minor and thus not able to join the army so he enlisted in the Local Defence Volunteers (LDV or as it was popularly known Look-Duck-Vanish), the precursor of the Home Guard. Part of his duties entailed work in the plotting room of an anti-aircraft battery constructed in Hyde Park. Despite the immediate dangers of bombardment it was rather less threatening memories which stuck in Leslie’s mind: “it was a mixed battery – there were female soldiers there. That is where I began to learn the facts of life, newly out of school, they were really coarse, what else can I say about them?”

After attending military training camp, Leslie joined the ranks of The Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment). Military life must have left Leslie’s intellectual sensibilities unchallenged and so he enrolled in a correspondence course on short story writing. One of the efforts of Fusilier No. 14442471 was an amusing story entitled Proposed Pedestrian Legislation for Streaming Pedestrians on Oxford Street which demonstrated a young man’s frustration at the time-wasting antics of window shoppers. Leslie was subsequently called to the Bar at Gray’s Inn, London in his absence, due to the exigencies of war. It is interesting to note here that Wyndham, Leslie’s father, was also called to the Bar during a war – this time the First World War. Furthermore, Wyndham did so in his Royal Flying Corps uniform (Wyndham was Malta’s first pilot), one of the first to do so as it was not considered proper to cover up His Majesty’s military uniform.

A few months later, Leslie’s regiment embarked onto a troopship bound for the Far East. No sooner had he boarded the ship than an announcement blared over the tannoy for fusilier Grech to disembark immediately, at which the staff sergeant in charge queried him in typically obtuse military manner: “If you knew that you weren’t going to

the Far East, why did you come on board?” It appeared that Wyndham had pulled a few strings and had Leslie diverted, just in time, to a safer destination. All three of Wyndham’s sons would eventually join the British Army: Tony and Maurice would serve in two of the most daring and illustrious regiments – the Special Boat Service and the 17th/21st Lancers respectively.

Leslie was then transferred to the Essex Regiment and ended up in Edessa in Northern Greece which pleased him because of its association with Alexander the Great. At about this time, he managed to get 28 days leave and so, looking forward to seeing his parents and siblings for the first time in four years, he made use of his father’s connections in the RAF to hitch rides on aircraft bound for Malta. Anticipating the proverbial fatted calf, Leslie was delighted to be back home. However, his optimism was shattered when he discovered, on arriving in Mosta, that he was suffering from jaundice and was put on a strict diet of boiled rice. The day that Leslie received a clean bill of health was the same day he was due to return to Edessa.

Back in Greece, Leslie took his father’s advice and applied to join the Judge Advocate General’s Department. His application was successful and he was appointed a Legal Staff Officer based first in Naples and later in Cairo. Due to the shortage of officers with legal training, Leslie was promoted rapidly through the ranks ending up a Captain in just 10 days so that he could start participating in courts martial. Both Wyndham and Leslie were involved in war crimes trials: Wyndham was a judge in the Ravensbrück Women’s Concentration Camp trials in Hamburg after the War and Leslie prosecuted in cases of German and Italian prison camp mal-administration.

When Leslie was demobilised from the Army in 1948, he returned to Malta. After an oral examination he was granted a warrant to practice law in Malta. Since he had not attended the University of Malta, Leslie did not possess a local Doctor of Laws degree; he was therefore insistent on being addressed correctly, so that when clients asked for “Dr Grech”, he pointedly referred them to either his daughter or his son – doctors of medicine and law respectively.

Courts martial provided Leslie with a welcome supplement to his fledgling village practice. He believed strongly that even the poorest village resident in Mosta should have access to legal advice and deliberately kept his fees low to facilitate this ideal. He appeared as defence or prosecuting counsel in the three services throughout the Mediterranean area and his travels to the Middle East gave him the opportunity to collect a large number of oriental rugs until one day his mother insisted he sell all but a handful. Other souvenirs from these exotic trips resulted in a wardrobe of veils, keffiyeh, tarbooshes, embroidered waistcoats and intriguing daggers that fuelled the fantasies of many a childhood fancy-dress extravaganza. Leslie continued to be involved in courts martial well into the 1960s.

Leslie’s most high profile court martial was undoubtedly that of Lieutenant-Commander Christopher Swabey, RN He was chosen as Swabey’s defence counsel in 1956 and always maintained that the court was prejudiced against Swabey, who initially lost his case. However, after two appeals, three debates in the House of Lords and a further two appeals to the Courts Martial Appeals Court, the judgement was eventually overturned and Swabey was awarded compensation. The case was written up extensively by Alfred Draper in Smoke Without Fire, Arlington Books, 1974. Draper recounts the following: “Swabey could not have chosen a better or more qualified counsel. Grech was the odd man out at the predominantly naval occasion. His black gown and curly wig, looked strangely out of place amongst the caps with scrambled egg on their peaks, the rows of medals and straight gold rings denoting rank. But he was optimistic and full of confidence, and had assured Swabey that they could not possibly convict on the flimsy evidence that had been accumulated. They were bound to toss it out. It was, he said, laughable. Grech was not being solicitous. He really believed it. For the only evidence against Swabey was the uncorroborated word of the Sub-Lieutenant. No one else could support his allegations.”

During the Maltese property boom of the 1960s, Leslie attracted many British clients, some of whom were seeking holiday homes, others wishing to settle permanently in Malta or Gozo. Leslie’s UK training and practical experience in Malta made him the natural choice to deal with expatriates’ legal affairs in both the UK and Malta. As a result, his list of clients read like a veritable Who’s Who of illustrious (and a couple of not so illustrious) visitors to our islands: as well as knights and peers of the realm were included one Sheriff of Nottingham and various celebrities – the pianist Russ Conway particularly springs to mind. Between Leslie’s legal practice and his brother Maurice’s ministry, first as chaplain to the US Sixth Fleet and later as parish priest to the English speaking Catholics in Malta, the two brothers could fairly claim to service most if not all expatriates’ temporal and spiritual needs on the islands.

Soon after returning to Malta in the late 1940s Leslie had joined Lina Ganado’s dance group and met Mary Josephine (known as Mafine) Xuereb. After some reluctance on Mafine’s part (her five “Nos” becoming well engrained in family legend) they eventually became engaged and were married on 3 May 1951, going on to enjoy 60 years of married life.

Leslie was a keen gardener and was probably the first television gardener in Malta, presenting Dawra Mal-Gnien in the 1960s from the three-acre family garden in Mosta, where children were “volunteered” to act as scale references or stage hands. Leslie enjoyed horticultural challenges and delighted in growing fruit and vegetables that were not native to Malta such as pistachio nuts, custard apple, papaya, avocado pears, pineapple, guava and a strawberry tree (arbutus unedo) to name just a few. He also dreamed of being self-sufficient and applied his hands to lamb, pig and even trout rearing. His delight was being able to say – as the family gathered for Sunday lunch – that everything on the table was grown in the garden. Leslie spent practically all his leisure hours in the garden and when the opportunity rose to relocate his office to a neighbouring building he chose rooms that overlooked the garden with the intention that, in slack hours, he might escape down a ladder to weed or water his beloved plants.

­In the 1960s, Leslie embarked on a journey for which his reticence and unassuming nature seemed to render him particularly ill suited: politics. Together with Herbert and Albert Ganado, he became involved in the Democratic Nationalist Party, serving variously as treasurer and president. His lack of success can be gauged by the reams of flyers still extant in trunks and boxes at home, the imperative “IVVUTAW LESLIE GRECH” seeming uncharacteristically self-promotional. Most embarrassing of all, however, was the fact that the already ungainly bile green Ford Anglia estate, which bore a striking resemblance to an amphibious landing craft rather than a means of family conveyance, sprouted extravagant, quasi-baroque megaphones that rendered it even more hideous. Added to this visual aberration was the even more embarrassing aural aspect – the booming tones of one’s father proclaiming the merits of a new world order.

Vehicular embarrassment seemed to be a speciality of Leslie’s; the crowning event was a Parent’s Day at St Edward’s College. Leslie had informed his sons that he would be arriving in his new (to him) car. Anticipation turned to horror when he rolled up at the college in a decrepit fourth-hand Morris 1,000 that ‘sported’ dented bodywork and a weather-beaten and torn soft-top. The day was saved when Leslie, a keen shot, participated in a shooting competition and produced his vintage Martini Henry lever action rifle that had been converted to .22 calibre. Leslie loved shooting, especially target practice – he claimed this was because it was the only sport one could carry out lying down.

Leslie believed strongly in giving his children a good education, just as his parents had done with him and his siblings, so he and Mafine made the necessary financial sacrifices to send all three children to private schools in Malta and then England (Woldingham and Stonyhurst). The children’s exile to foreign lands did not excuse them from Leslie’s unique antics and fertile imagination. Ever proud of anything homegrown, Leslie’s sense of (in)decorum knew no bounds. At Stonyhurst College, mail was delivered to the boys during Morning Studies (an opportunity after breakfast and before classes reserved for the futile intention of the completion of unfinished homework). One can imagine the energy level of prepubescent, hormonally charged boys on one hand and a timid, homesick youngster eagerly anticipating word from Malta on the other. No frenetic tearing open of welcome letters for the Grechs; bitter experience had lead to a cautious examination of the contents before tentatively extricating them from the envelope. Too many times Leslie had unwittingly devised a torture more cruel, more painful than the febrile medieval imagination of Dante when the welcome “Villa Grech Mifsud” embossed letterhead would reveal a toe-curlingly embarrassing sample cellotaped to it like a rare museum exhibit – of a yellowing three-quarter inch toenail. In such moments, the only seeming salvation amidst the screams of teenage horror and derision was to be swallowed up by the Earth. If the intention of a British public school education was to harden one’s character, Leslie played his not insignificant part. The ploy worked and was successful in producing as a result one medical doctor (Dorothy), one doctor of laws (David) and one architect (Chris). Proud of the family’s legal lineage, Leslie was delighted when in 2005 his granddaughter Nichola Higgins was called to the Bar at Lincoln’s Inn, London, making her a seventh generation lawyer. He was particularly pleased when, in 2011 Nichola, was appointed chairman of the Young Bar Committee of the Bar Council of the United Kingdom.

Very occasionally, Leslie’s sense of humour would backfire on him. In one memorable incident, he and Mafine attended a dinner party hosted by a particularly forthright Hungarian lady friend. As a polite and appreciative guest, Leslie allowed his glass to be refilled numerous times and towards the end of the evening his premature slumber was interrupted by his host’s plangent tones exclaiming: “Leslie, I am speaking to you!” Enormously embarrassed, Leslie and Mafine swiftly bade their goodbyes. Next morning Leslie, wishing to apologise in his own witty style (and no doubt wanting to deliver justice for his rude awakening), asked Mafine to deliver a bouquet of flowers and a note to their erstwhile host. Although initially delighted by the flowers, the recipient’s expression quickly changed when she read Leslie’s note, shutting the door in Mafine’s face without comment. The note read: “To X, the woman I slept with last night”. Leslie and Mafine were no longer graced with Hungarian invitations.

Leslie’s sartorial requirements were always geared towards his gardening activities: one essential accoutrement for outdoor activities in the Maltese summer is appropriate headgear and Leslie favoured wide-brimmed straw hats that gave adequate protection to both head and shoulders. These hats were usually purchased on expeditions to the street market at it-Tokk in Rabat, Gozo. On one holiday in Avignon, France, Leslie returned with a fine wide-brimmed Stetson-like hat. Sporting this hat proudly on a walk through Mosta, a cocky local was heard to ask the venerable lawyer: “Fejn hallejtu iz-ziemel?” (“Where have you left your horse?”)

Many readers will remember ‘Leslie F. Grech’ for his dry humour and his short and pithy letters frequently submitted to the Times of Malta. One recent letter stated simply: “Oh! I will be so proud to call myself Maltese if divorce is rejected by my co-nationals.” If only the contributors to the Times of Malta blogosphere would be half as concise.

In a diary entry written in London around 1942 Leslie, feeling isolated and homesick, wrote: “I feel as if I could spend the rest of my days at Mosta wandering about the dark old rooms I love so much, working in the garden all the time.” He was successful in achieving this simple but heartfelt wish and on the way accomplished so much more.