21/10/2009 - W de Forte discusses the origin of the Land Rover

ONE OF BRITAIN'S FINE IDEAS

As the British Army battled its way across northern Germany during the death throes of WWII, its Transport Corps, in which I was a senior officer, organised the rounding up and confiscation of thousands of vehicles abandoned by the retreating sausage eaters. In my official capacity I was able to hurtle around in bullet proof Mercedes staff cars, big bore BMW sidecar combinations and various kubelwagens and flugabwehrkanonepanzers. I even drove Panzer and Tiger tanks. But the vehicle that impressed me the most was a humble US Army Jeep, made by Willys Overland Inc, that had temporarily fallen into the hands of the goons. In fact I liked it so much I am ashamed to say I stole it.

After the war ended, the dazed and bewildered human flotsam of a continent ravaged by five years of war began making its way home. I was granted leave and amid the chaos and confusion, together with an RAF Sergeant named Passmore, and wearing my army greatcoat stained with the filth of many ditches, and with unkempt hair, unshaven chins and mud encrusted boots, we drove the pilfered Jeep nonstop across Europe and blagged our way onto a boat back to Blighty.

Yes, dear readers I brought it home to Shropshire. And even before I had had time for a recuperative noggin in the Rose and Crown, Pater had put the little Willys to work on the farm (incidentally, the correct pronunciation is 'Willis'). He found it a most useful device. A miniature truck capable of 60mph, it could climb a 40 degree slope and manage 50 degrees of sideways tilt without tipping over. Furthermore it had an infeasibly tight turning circle and could pull 25 tons. The Jeep was not an iconic symbol of the American war effort without good reason.

When I flew back to my command in Germany I was relieved to find the Jeep had not been missed (I should have stolen Himmler's staff car – it would have been worth millions today!) and it remained in service on the farm for many years, despite being joined by a new Land Rover in 1948, of which more anon.

Returning to journalistic duties after being demobbed in '46, I called in on the Wilks brothers at the Rover factory in Solihull to find the luxury car maker more than slightly moribund. Sheets of aircraft aluminium and tins of paint left over from wartime contracts lay around and car production was at barely a trickle. Although Rover was desperate to get back to producing quality motor cars for Britain's bank managers and headmasters, the Board of Trade wanted small utilitarian runabouts and the famous old firm just couldn't get the steel to build its silky smooth sixes.

Over libation in Maurice's office, the younger Wilks bemoaned the exorbitant level of purchase tax applied to new cars (he would have been apoplectic if he'd known it was to double to 66% the following year!) and told me their designs for small cars were not working out well. Conversation then turned to farming and it turned out Maurice too had a Jeep on his farm in Anglesey. “Why not build a British version of it for farmers?” I suggested. “And it would sell well in uncivilised parts of the Empire too,”. More scotch was poured and I saw the great designer's eyes twinkle as he warmed to the idea.

The Land Rover was launched at the Amsterdam Motor Show in April 1948. Something twixt a truck and a tractor, it was rather similar to a Jeep but with a more agricultural bent. Built on a strong steel chassis, the new four-wheel-drive Rover featured power take off points front and rear and had undergone extensive trials on working farms including ploughing fields as well as winching, towing and traversing difficult terrain. Out of necessity and expedience its body panels were built from Birmabright aluminium and painted aircraft cockpit green. Basic in the extreme, even the roof and door tops were extras.

Shorter than a Jeep, it was also wider, heavier and faster and shared no common components with the Ohio built vehicle that inspired it, although apparently an earlier prototype had been made on a Jeep chassis with a central steering wheel. This 'centre steer' device had an engine and gearbox from a pre war Rover saloon model and the driver had sat aside the gearbox tractor-style.

This miniature short wheelbase truck was intended to be manufactured for two or three years to generate cash for building quality saloon cars, but the Land Rover was to remain in production in various forms for more than 60 years.

Series One Land Rovers, as they have subsequently become known, were built until 1958. Purely functional, they have perfect proportions and have a fabulous 'look'. Tough, simple and practical, 218,000 were built and sold around the world. A huge number survive. Driving one is an experience. The suspension is designed for the longevity of the vehicle, not the comfort of its passengers! The teeth rather rattle and the back is sometimes jarred, but it will turn on a sixpence, take terrible abuse, survive the harshest climates and, importantly, somehow keep going when seriously wounded. Rarely will a Series Land Rover let its master down.

Many of these early Land Rovers are still working on the farms and estates they were delivered to when purchased new. These vehicles are now rightly regarded as true classics and are becoming sought after by collectors. I was offered £8,000 for Pater's 1948 model just the other week. Not bad for a 61-year-old truck!