Arthur Fray was part of a daring, sea-bound mission during the Second World War, Operation Bridford. Here, Christine Lyne talks to Will Ramsey about her late father
HE WAS a quiet, reserved man. So much so, Arthur Fray never told his daughter, Christine Lyne, about his part in one of the Second World War's most daring missions.
The cabinet-maker, who lived in Hull's Holderness Road, was a gunner on Operation Bridford.
This secret mission, to collect ball-bearing supplies from neutral Sweden, saw a fleet of boats leave from the Humber under the cover of darkness.
Arthur, who had been in the Merchant Navy, was on the crew of the Gay Corsair. The boat was one of flotilla, which made the trips to bring back the ball-bearings, a vital component in the war-effort for their use in a range of equipment.
"Dad never spoke about those days, so I don't know how he was approached for it," said Christine, of Hornsea.
"It was his mum and my mum who kept the newspaper clippings about the mission. The only way they found out he'd been across to Sweden was on the last run in 1944, when they all came back with fresh cream cakes.
"The Swedes were very deprived but what they did have was plentiful supplies of fresh cream.
"There were times when they were almost a month in Sweden, waiting for the conditions to be right to come back."
Her father, who died in 1979, was awarded the British Empire Medal for his part in Operation Bridford.
Co-ordinated by George Binney, a leading metallurgist, the boats were based at Hull under the management of the Ellerman Wilson Line.
It was Binney who personally selected the seamen, 80 per cent of whom lived in and around Hull, to crew the flotilla, which had been requisitioned from the Turkish Navy.
Christine's father joined a crew led by captain Bob Tanton, who, in Ralph Barker's book The Blockade Busters, recalled: "We weren't like a normal ship's company, we were just a team."
Barker's book describes them as a "colourful bunch", with Arthur Fray likened to bank clerk: "polished and studious".
Conditions on board were hardly comfortable.
"There was no living accommodation on the Corsair, it was stripped out," said Christine, who has a series of clippings, including articles from the Hull Daily Mail, and books about the mission.
"There was somewhere they could eat but he said you could not eat because the diesel fumes were awful.
"It was the equivalent of being on a speed boat – it was described as bouncing, like water-skiing.
"They would spin over the top of the waves and hope the wake would disperse any mines that were floating.
"So with the wash from that they used to arrive frozen, and soaking wet. But the Swedes were so hospitable, they took them into their own homes. They fed them, and gave them clean, dry clothes."
Christine says she first heard about the her dad's part in the mission during her childhood.
"When I was ten or 11, my gran came to live with us and she spoke about it," Christine said.
"Dad was very quiet – he thought the world of my mum who was a very social person having come from a big family. We lived on Holderness Road, near the Four In Hand, mum would go there, she was on the darts team, and dad would take all the doors off so she could have a party, but he would always be in the background.
"He never pushed himself forward but he was a talented and clever man. He loved reading non-fiction and his gardening, any subject you asked him about, he could give you a response on it."
Her father was also well-travelled. He spent part of his childhood in Rawalpindi, India, where his father – who was British – had settled and opened a motorworks.
At eight, Arthur was put on a steamship by himself and sent to Britain, to go to boarding school in Taunton – where he was followed a couple of years later by his brothers, John and Fred. By 16, he was articled to company Houlder Brothers, where he worked on tankers, and later met Christine's mum while he was lodging in Holderness Road.
Despite his quiet personality, Christine said she was not taken back by the later revelations about the role he played during the Second World War.
"I wasn't really surprised, because with gran living with us, I had all these photo albums of their lives in India, and these letters from my dad's dad which weren't the norm," she said.
"They were an unusual family and they weren't your everyday letters.
"During the school holidays, my dad used to go up into the Himalayas to climb and when it was really hot, they would go up to Kashmir.
"I'd heard all these stories and the lifestyle they had, it was amazing really."
Above all, she remembers him as gentle, caring man.
"My dad always put everybody before himself – he did not have a selfish bone in his body," Christine said.
"I think it was the Indian culture, that fatalistic streak, he believed what was meant to be would be."
