I WAS a medical registrar at the Southern General Hospital in Glasgow when Benny Lynch died. He was well-known to many members of the staff, owing to his frequent admissions for treatment of his alcoholism. He was admitted to an acute medical ward on a very wet evening as he was extremely ill, suffering from severe cardiac failure.

Very soon the hospital switchboard was jammed with inquiries from people all purporting to be relatives of Benny Lynch - but who were believed by the telephone operator to be reporters from the local papers, trying to find out what was happening. Dr James Nielson, the house doctor, was very concerned that any information should inadvertently leak out, thus breaching patient confidentiality.

Benny Lynch died that night. Next day a post-mortem was carried out by my fellow registrar, the late Dr Alan Hird, who was in charge of the ward in which Benny died. He asked me to assist him, which I was pleased to do.

The mortuary was a small brick building in the hospital grounds. During the post-mortem, the doorbell of the mortuary kept ringing at intervals and the small grey-haired mortuary attendant kept going out to answer it - followed by a whispered conversation with the visitors. After a while we asked him what was going on - to be told they were all fans of Benny Lynch who wanted to view the body and pay their respects. He told them to return later on.

Alan Hird and I exchanged wry glances in view of the fact that we were in the middle of an autopsy, which lent a macabre air to the proceedings.

Later on, as I entered the out-patient department to take a clinic, beside the entrance gates to the hospital in Govan Road, I noticed a crowd of people standing around.

A black hearse appeared from the hospital grounds and drove slowly through the gates, turning right along Govan Road. The men raised their caps, the women wept and some crossed themselves as the coffin passed.

But this was not Benny Lynch's hearse. About 15 minutes later another hearse emerged from the hospital grounds and followed the same route as the first one. This was the hearse carring Benny Lynch's coffin. By this time the crowd had completely dispersed, leaving no-one to pay their last respects to their local hero.

I have often thought that these two vignettes could well be utilised in a film about the famous wee boxer.

Dr A M K Barron,

10 Golf Place, Greenock.