Our father survived to ensure Mynarski story would be told

AT the funeral of their father, Pat Brophy, in Canada, 14 years ago, Colleen Bacon and Sherry Sullivan watched a Lancaster bomber fly overhead.

This weekend, another Lancaster circled the sky, this time in the North-East of England, moments after Colleen unveiled a statue of the man who died trying to save their father's life during the Second World War.

"I was okay until then, but then I started to shake," says Colleen. "I turned round to look at the rear turret."

It was in an identical Lancaster's rear turret that her father became trapped 61 years ago, after the plane on which he was a tail gunner was attacked by German fighter.

His friend, mid-rear gunner Andrew Mynarski, battled to free him as the plane spiralled to the ground. He failed and eventually had to bail out, his flying suit in flames.

Pilot Officer Mynarski died from his burns two days later, but Pat amazingly survived the crash and lived to tell the story of his valour.

For the sisters, the Lancaster's display was another highly-charged moment in a weekend full of emotion. They speak of the pride, sorrow and pleasure they've felt at seeing such a lasting tribute to Mynarski put in place.

The day before, they had watched as the sculpture of their father's friend arrived at the St George Hotel, at Durham Tees Valley Airport, and were able to help as it was lowered into place.

Sherry falls silent for what felt like forever when asked what she thought her father would have felt about the memorial.

"I think his emotions probably would have been very mixed as well, but I think deserving is one word he would have used," she finally says.

"He always felt it should have been him. Why was he saved? Why was Andrew chosen? I like to think it was so he could tell the story, so the rest of us would know."

The shock of what happened to Pat Brophy made him lose his hair and he rarely discussed the horror of that night with his daughters or his son, Patrick.

"The first time I recall dad telling me about it, I would have been about 19 or 20, " says Sherry.

"That's when the writer from the Reader's Digest came to do his story. Until that time, I really hadn't heard it. It was something he never really wanted to talk about it. It was something very private."

Colleen nods. Earlier, after she performed the unveiling of the 81/2ft sculpture, she went to inspect the Lancaster.

"I crawled in the rear turret, " she says to her sister.

"They closed the doors behind me. It didn't make me claustrophobic, but it made me incredibly aware.

"I climbed up to the front as well. There were two veterans in there and they talked about what it was like to be in there.

He said they were young then, they didn't think about it."

Both sisters tell how touched they have been by the Forgotten Hero appeal.

Colleen, who runs a school for special needs children, is particularly pleased that a local primary school [Middleton St George] has benefited from the campaign.

"It's been so interesting speaking to veterans who came to share their own stories, " she says. "They are stories that I wish so often we could be sharing with children. I think the work that's been done with the primary school is so phenomenal."

Sherry, who volunteers as a tour guide at the War Plane Heritage Museum in Hamilton, Ontaria, says: "It's a very proud day. I'm proud to be a part of all this and the heritage that goes with it. It has been an experience far beyond words."

The sisters stop speaking when they realise, from inside the hotel, that the Lancaster is leaving the airport.

Both rush outside, faces raised to the sky and smile and wave as it passes overhead.

Then Colleen stops, her smile gone as she holds her arms up to her partner, Bob. They hug for many minutes before Colleen follows her sister back inside.

I ask if she's glad she came.

She looks incredulous.

"Glad?" she says. "I wouldn't have missed it. I don't think any of us would have missed it."

Sherry agrees: "I have thoroughly enjoyed every minute."