Sixty-five years ago this April, convicted murderer Leo Mantha enjoyed a final meal—a T-bone steak. The physician at Burnaby’s Oakalla prison administered a tranquillizer to soothe the condemned man’s nerves before he was escorted to the gallows—a repurposed elevator shaft. He met his end, by hanging, just after midnight.

His execution in 1959 was British Columbia’s last. It was the final act in a drama that had unfolded over eight months, beginning the previous summer on Vancouver Island.

There, atop a rocky outcrop on Admirals Road in Esquimalt, stands a concrete building meticulously designed for institutional purposes. At first glance through the barbed wire, it resembles a prison. But it actually serves as a barracks for Canada’s newest and most junior sailors. Erected in 1953, it bears the name Nelles Block in honor of Admiral Percy Nelles, who served as Canada’s chief of naval staff from 1934 to 1944. 

Today, Nelles Block displays the wear and tear of time. Even three decades ago, the linoleum tiles buckled underfoot, and the brass fixtures gleamed with the patina left by countless hands. The rows of sink basins and toilets transport visitors to a bygone era, their designs reminiscent of the sleek curves found in a 1954 Buick Special. The fleshy pink and maroon tilework is peculiar in any era. 

Its deterioration has accelerated in recent years. The once-gleaming green Terrazzo floors in the wash places now bear deep cracks and are stained with an unyielding layer of black grunge. At every turn, it whispers defeat.

However, some elements have remained unchanged for 70 years. The galley continues to churn out a remarkable quantity of delicious meals while young sailors bustle in and out, adhering to meticulous daily routines. It resonates with the vibrancy of youth and its boundless potential.

Room 150 lies just a stone’s throw away from this action. In 1958, it was just another four-person barracks room, indistinguishable from the other 200 within the building. And yet, it harbours a secret.

In the early hours of September 6 that year, navy storesman Able Seaman Ronald Cooke was abruptly awakened by piercing screams. 

“Help me! Oh God, help me!” he heard. In the dimly-lit room, Cooke discerned the source of the distress—it was his roommate, Able Seaman Aaron Jenkins. 

“He had blood coming from his nose and mouth,” recalls Cooke. “He staggered toward the door only to collapse onto the floor.”

Duty personnel heard the screams too and raced down the corridor, covering 100 feet, just in time to witness the door burst open and Jenkins crumple to the ground. 

“He was on his back, and he seemed to be strangling,” recounts Ordinary Seaman Bill Gray. “I turned him over...and I attempted to administer artificial respiration.” But Jenkins, at the tender age of 23, died on the spot.

The evening before the incident, Petty Officer Stanley Piontek had observed Jenkins sporting “a cut on the bridge of his nose and both cheeks...swollen, purple, and discolored.” Concerned, Piontek escorted him to the restroom and cleaned the blood from Jenkins’s face.

Piontek, who shared an office with Jenkins, was aware of the man’s association with a 31-year-old civilian tugboat worker named Leo Mantha. Piontek provided this crucial information to the police, leading to an interview with Mantha at his residence in James Bay just five hours after the murder.

During the interview, Mantha confessed to the crime. In those times, the base and the naval dockyard were separated by a shipbuilding yard, making access from one to the other relatively straightforward. As a tugboat crew member, Mantha had seemingly acquired this knowledge during his work.

Mantha recounted the chilling details to detectives: “I went along the beach...where there’s no fence,” he said. “He was asleep. I stood by the bed for a few minutes, then I stabbed him. I stabbed him a few times. I don’t know how many times. I didn’t intend it to be serious.”

Subsequently, Mantha was arrested and later entered a plea of not guilty. During the trial, testimony unveiled the motive: an intimate relationship between Mantha and Jenkins, which Jenkins had planned to end.

On December 18, The Vancouver Sun’s headline screamed, “Navy Barrack Killer to Die”. Mantha was swiftly convicted and sentenced to hang a mere three months later. Fate granted Mantha an additional month of life, however; he met his end on April 8, 1959.

In the decades since, room 150 in Nelles Block has assumed numerous roles, morphing from an office to a linen storage area, and at one point, even an internet cafe (remember those?). It functions as an office once more, and a coffee shop has been established nearby. Only history bears witness to the life taken there many years ago.