Nejstarší v UK a 1946 vůbec

Pro majitele a příznivce klasických VW do roku výroby 1967. VW coby veterán, v původním, nebo dobově odpovídajícím stavu.
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Příspěvekod beetle66 » 26 led 2009

..1946..srovnání s DKW
Obrázek
1958 + 1966

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Pětišroub
stálý inventář fóra flat4
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Re: Nejstarší v UK a 1946 vůbec

Příspěvekod Pětišroub » 06 zář 2013

zbytek topicu po letech nedává smysl, ale tady je hezká historka, dopis bývalého spojeneckého vojáka z roku 1971, který si v roce 1946 formou loterie mohl zakoupit Volkswagen, o jeho raných zážitcích. Je to zajímavý svědek toho, jak to v poválečné Evropě chodilo.

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EUROAFFAIR
(OR DAVE’S ‘46)
(VVWCA Editor’s note This is the second installment in the story of Dave Wigglesworth’s original 1946 VW. Originally, Dave’s father had been trying to buy a Pierce Arrow from John Townsley, but never did arrange the deal. Dave, seeing this VW in the same garage, knew it was the car he wanted. After buying the VW, the Wigglesworth’s wrote Mr. Townsley, asking about the VW. This letter is his response. This letter has been copied exactly as written by Mr. Townsley)

John D. Townsley, Jr.
22, Croft Gardens
Ruislip, Mddx, Ha4 8EY
England

Mr. Jasper Wigglesworth
5500 Mission Rd.
Shawnee Mission, KS 66205
USA

16 Nov 71

Dear Jasper:

First let me say I regret that Gisela and I did not have the opportunity to see your collection of Pierce Arrows especially since we were in KC six weeks. However, you were very obviously a very busy man and - as you said with several trips on your schedule. On your advice I did call your son Glen, who kindly discussed PAs on the phone. He said he would drive by where we were staying and show us his PA on “Monday” -- I understood it to be the following Monday a week There may have been a misunderstanding as we went out to dinner on the first Monday and a message was relayed to us upon our return that “someone had dropped by to inquire if I had sold the Pierce Arrow yet.” I did not think it was your son, because he would have known that I sold the car. We saw only one PA 1929 - belonging to Dr. Holzman. It happened to be standing out in the drive way when we were driving around in the neighborhood in our rented Toyota I have had two letters from Herman Zakud. He also returned an extra hubcap that I had left in the car, so I could have a souvenir. He seemed just as delighted after he got home with the car and turned the motor over, as he was when he first saw it. My early disappointment is, that I could not have left the car with you to be restored. Unfortunately I had to give up the garage where it was, as I sold the house. But Herman gave me the first choice should he ever decide to sell or trade.



About the VOLKSWAGEN I am enclosing the only letter (copy) that we could find (we have moved seven times in England alone) but this letter gives you some indication of the location of the car and date that it reached 1 00,000 km -- more I believe at the time I first wrote to Wolfsburg, the VW factory. Have also included one snap shot taken during one of our trips in Germany in ‘49 or ‘50. Ansbach, Mittlefranken, by the way, is close to the more famous town of Nurnburg which was considered in the American Zone of Occupation. Wolfsburg - the VW factory, is in the northern part of Germany, which was then the British Zone. This plant was more than two thirds destroyed during the war. Late ‘45 or early ‘46 the Germans, with the permission of the British, were able to start turning out the “Beetle” as originally planned by Hitler as the “people’s car (=Volks-Wagen).

Due to an arrangement between and the Americans - I believe a limit of 200 cars a month were allocated to the American Forces. At this time there were several million American troops in the American Zone of Germany and part of France - so you can imagine the demand for these cars. A lottery system was established thru the Army Post Exchange, which provided that any soldier could place his name on a roster at any exchange outlet in Europe these names were thrown into a tumbler, and the first 200 drawn were entitled to the car, price $650.- By December ‘46 a few American Fords, Chevrolets, and Chryslers were beginning to arrive, to be included in the lottery. First names picked had their choice of American or German vehicle. At this time I was assigned to a unit in Regensburg/Bavaria - and having placed my order at the local PX, and never having won anything in my life, was overjoyed when reading tin the “Stars and Stripes” that my name headed the list and that I was eligible to buy a car - just before Christmas - those listed were given thirty days to notify their choice of car and complete the cash purchase. At this time I was completely frustrated, having just received orders to report to Munich for a train to report to Liverne/ltaly - (“Leghorn” on American maps). I immediately advised the “Stars and Stripes” that my choice was a Volkswagen, though I had never seen one - but that was the cheapest vehicle on the list and private transportation was a premium. I tried every angle to have my orders changed so I could remain in Germany - but as a junior officer I had no luck -- Nevertheless, I sent to the states for the cash and planned on wangling a leave to get back to Germany and pick up the car within the next thirty days - this involved quite an adventure as the Commanding Officer in Italy would not give me a through pass to Germany, but offered a solution by signing a ten day leave; it was up to me to find a way to get there - unofficially. While thumbing my way north, I was picked up by a British truck and was driven to the Austrian border. I soon found a British camp near the French Zone of Austria. The British officer was a most cordial chap - said he would arrange for me to travel to Munich on their leave-train, which actually traveled non-stop from Villach/Austria to Bremen. It was the coldest winter they had had for years and the snow was about three feet high. I was put up for the night after being entertained at their officer’s club - these were all pre-fab huts, but in those days they offered warmth and shelter, and since the war was over - everyone was in a gay mood. We traveled the following day and all thru the nite reaching Munich about 2 a.m. -- the German porter said the train would go slow thru the Munich railyards but they could not stop. He stood by to show me the safest place to jump and pointed in the direction of the city. Very few lights were discernable - but after a two hour walk over rails and rubble I found a place to bunk until daybreak. The following morning I managed a truck ride to Nurnburg where the Army Exchange System stored the vehicles. Upon first looking at the VW, I could not understand how they had the nerve to ask $650.- for such a small, tinny affair with - what looked to be a motorcycle engine. But I had already committed myself - so, after obtaining license and insurance, I now had transpàrtation for a total cost of $705.- . By the time I had driven in miserably cold weather from Nurnburg to Regensburg - about 50 miles - in perfect warmth and comfort I began to have more respect for the “little bug.” When I arrived at my old headquarters, I stayed with the group I had just left two weeks before. Here I found the real value of the VW already! I was being offered from $1,500 to $2,000 in cash. But I still had the problem of getting back to Liverne, and the Germans advised that no one drove over the Alps in the dead of winter. As a matter of fact I felt very much at home in Regensburg, enjoying the companionship of several lovely frauleins I had known for many months - so I was not too anxious to leave. But, to be realistic, I had to concede the fact I was in a manner of speaking AWOL from my new unit in Italy. So, after a couple of days red tape obtaining a military permit to travel, I drove south to Garmisch and headed for the Austrian border.

As I approached the checkpoint I had great misgivings on two points - First, one of my little girl friends insisted on returning to Italy with me, feeling sure that the Austrians would give no difficulty to a German, their former ally; also, I knew that the border crossing would be patrolled by French troops, as this was their zone of occupation. The VW created considerable interest and we were soon surrounded by French and Austrian troops. They were courteous, but quite firm about not admitting the Fraulein - whereupon I had to turn about and had to drive all
the way back to Garmisch, a matter of some ten miles. All the time my little girl insisting she could hide in the space between the rear seat and the engine - I knew this would not work, since they generally go over the car quite thoroughly, looking for cigarettes and whiskey. By now I was considerably pressed for time, as I wanted to put in as much daylight driving as possible as I headed for the mountainous terrain to come. At lnnsbruck, I loaded 2 jerrycans of gas in the back and filled the tank - I knew there would be no more available until I reached the first American outpost in Italy. From here on I was to give the VW a real test without chains, navigating the Alps through the Brenner Pass with what I anticipated to be deep snow drifts and ice. I could obtain no reports on the road conditions, since there was little or no traffic between the. two countries - and absolutely no civilian cars were to be found in those days. The temperature was well below freezing, but the hot air heater and the tightness of the car kept me very comfortable in fact I was only wearing a battle jacket having had to remove my overjacket because of the warmth. At first I was a bit apprehensive that the strange little contraption with its fragile looking engine would let me down deep in the mountains, far from any life. In fact I was afraid to stop for fear the motor would not start again -- in some drifts I was driving in 2nd gear at almost a crawl, slipping from side to side. But we ploughed right thru. After midnight I must have started down the slope on the other side, as the snow began to give way to incessant rain. With excellent headlights I was able to dodge the pot holes made by heavy trucks. Later in the night, my lights picked up deserted, ruined villages - white stones with German and Italian markings scrawled on walls, showing thru the sheet of rain. I was just beginning to feel confident when I slid in to the edge of a crater made by possibly the German “88” guns (=mm) obviously this stretch of road had not been used for months the sudden stop killed the motor and I really thought I was in for the high jump. After looking around with the aid of a flashlight I determined that by using some rocks and bricks and rubble I could build a solid platform for my wheels to catch hold fortunately, only one side had slipped into the hole. After about twenty minutes work I was ready to go, but the engine was not. The battery was strong and I whirled it many times but was afraid of running it down. The rain began-let up, but when I raised the engine hood to take a look, I could see moisture that had gotten into it some way. I knew absolutely nothing about this “washing machine” motor, but with some rags- started drying off the distributor and Other vital parts. The motor was still quite hot, as I had been driving -steadily for about ten hours. I tried once more to start it without success. As I was pretty sleepy I decided to curl up and wait for daylight — also, there was a chance that I might slip further off the bank and find myself in worse trouble - I must have “died” pretty quickly, for when I awoke the sun was already coming thru the trees. I said a few prayers and decided to try to start it once more Geronimo! It kicked off with a whirr. I found it was easier to back up the hill and take a fresh start for that particularly rough area. By noon I had reached Bolzano the border between Austria and Italy. In Bolzano I was able to get something hot to eat which was more than welcome since I’d been living on sandwiches since leaving Garmisch. I was being constantly stared at by now I thought the Italians were used to seeing American officers wandering thru their crowds. When I stopped I found it was the car which attracted attention - and this was so wherever we drove after that. Many had heard about and read stories of the “People’s Wagen” which would be the prize of every German after the war was won. — might explain here that just before the war many Germans had made downpayments for a VW which was to be built at Wolfsburg but as soon as the war got underway, the Government announced that the factory would be converted to the war effort; however, the people were encouraged to continue to make payments, which would be noted in a sort of contract-logbook for record --- upon completion of DM900.- paid, a certificate was to be issued which would entitle the buyer to a new “beetle” - after the war had been won by the Reich --- As a matter of fact, the factory did make the VW engines and they were installed in what the Americans called the “German Jeep” - a very boxy looking affair with corrugated sides and hood -- they carried a canvas top similar to the American jeep. These were also built as amphibious models. I drove one of these ‘German Jeeps” later in Italy, and while it did not have anything like the power of our 4-wheel drive counterpart, it was certainly maneuverable and with its 4-wheel suspension could take off into the roughest terrain imaginable. They proved to be extremely practicable in both desert arid, freezing mountain conditions since they were trouble-free not being water cooled.

Going back to the story - I reved up the motor and determined I was going to hold the little wagen at top speed, now that the roads had become smoother - in fact, I hit the first Italian motorway out of Pistola and decided to tromp down on the accelerator since I had never attempted to test the car for maximum speed - also, I was getting close to the end of the rope for time - or I would find myself officially AWOL Besides, I felt a little safer now that the unknown was behind me and I did meet a few Army vehicles from time to time - so, if anything went wrong from here in, I could get help. The early speedometers indicated up to 110km, if my memory serves me correctly. Anyway, I knew that when I reached 100 1 was doing actually 60 mph. And for such a light and “new” car that was really enough. One surprising factor I noted - the design of the body resulted in the wind pushing the car tighter on the road - which I thought was a safety factor. By the time I passed the Leaning Tower of Pisa I was on my last lap to headquarters in Liverne. I could hardly get through the narrow streets of’ Pisa, because of the curiosity engendered by the VW. About an hour later I was “home” and surrounded by a large crowd of Gls and officers alike, making me offers. This included $2,000 and a reconditioned jeep. Some Italian company had been buying American surplus jeeps and were-selling them-back to the GIs after alleged “reconditioning.” I guess the biggest surprise was in store for the former German PWs who were now working for the Americans as warehousemen and in various other capacities -- this was the first they’d seen of their “dreamcar.” Here, for the first time I noticed - from the color of some German equipment and their helmets, that the VWs must have been painted with left-over stocks of german ‘warmaterial paint -- sort of a battleship grey. Had someone made such an offer just as I. was buying the car in Nurnberg,. I would have greedily accepted. But now with my complete confidence in the VW’s durability and stamina - and considering that private transportation was at a premium - I decided to sell it at NO price. — This was in January 1947. On weekends the VW and I made many trips, exploring the northern part of Italy - Florence, Milano, and Genoa - and many smaller towns. In March “we” took two weeks leave and drove back to Germany. Here on the road we began to see other VWs, though very few, and only around military centers in general. After finally wangling a permanent transfer back to. Germany I took off in April, completely loaded down with a footlocker, two jerrycans of gas, and a heavy bedroll filled with. weighty bdds and ends and headed north once more. This was to be my last trip over the Alps (in the VW) and always anxious to see new places - picked out a different route which would let me cross the Austrian border into German at Salzburg. After getting lost several times on little used mountain roads, I began to worry when approaching the last peak in the ridge overlooking the Danube -- for the first time I felt the engine was laboring and getting hot. I turned the ignition key off but the motor kept on firing - this had me worried, but after what seemed an interminable time, it finally stopped. The road I was on was gravel and extremely steep - so much so that I was sliding from side to side. I reached a place where I could stop once more. It looked like about 500 yards to go, and almost straight up. I thought a long while and finally decided to throw the bedroll over the side of the mountain, which relieved us from about 75 pounds. Everything else I owned was in the footlocker - and I still had two spare jerrycans of gas, which I did not dare to leave behind as I might have to do a lot of back tracking-- the map I had was a very old one and I was not quite sure of my bearings. I figured that the reverse gear had more power than the forward first - so I turned the car around and backed over the last few hundred yards of the peak. In the distance I could see the lowlands and from here on it would be a breeze. After leaving Salzburg a beautiful double-lane autobahn was a sight to behold -- driving along looking at the snow-capped Alps on the left, dotted here and there with a castle or monastery, and on the right the green was beginning to show in the meadows with an occasional patch of snow left due to shadows cast by the mountain& For me it was driving thru a fairyland. We rolled for hours at a steady 100 km p/hr. -- Our next home was to be Schierstein, Germany -- needless to say the VW made more friends than I did -- we carried a full load wherever we went. With all the rough handling we managed to stay out of any accident whatsoever from new -- this was to change, however, due to a freak incident. On one of my unofficial fast runs to Regensburg to visit one- of my favorite Frauleins we met with our first and only accident. The young lady and I were driving in the busy section of that town, following slowly behind the old-time “Strassenbahn” (streetcar). I had just been watching the cast iron trolley box shaking precariously at the back of the tram - this is the box that acts as a take-up for the rope leading down from the trolley. Just as we went around a curve at the Theatre Platz the trolley slipped off the wire. The sudden jerk pulled the iron box loose, which immediately started flying about in great arcs in the air. Both the trolley and we had stopped. And suddenly I noticed the box flying right straight toward our windshield - time for n&thing; there was a crash and a sudden stillness all about us. My companion and I looked at each other and then down at the space between our seats - on top of the hand brake lay the trolley box with about a foot of rope hanging out. It had crashed thru dead center, shattering the windshield into a million little 8” squares - at the same time cut the rope as the box flew up inside and hit the metal just above the windshield. This dent you will see today, almost a quarter of a century later. The streetcar conductor peered in the window with great relief to see we were not injured, but nevertheless white with fear that he would have official trouble, since an American officer’s car was damaged. There was a huge crowd around I assured him there was no need to make a report, since it was not his fault and I would have no trouble obtaining a new glass. -- Fact is, I wanted to get out of town as soon as possible since I had no official pass to have driven that far away from the SchiersteinFrankfurt area. - Later, I was to become a civilian and remain in the employ of the Army, Occupation Forces. And while still subject to military administrative control in general, I now looked forward to more freedom- of movement t& drive the little VW anywhere in Europe - with the exception of course of the East Zone of Germany, Chekoslovakia and - at that time - Jugoslavia. All roads were free of traffic, even on the “autobahns” in some areas one could travel miles before- meeting any vehicles. Gradually, in the latter part of 1948, a few VWs were coming into the hands of doctors and government personnel. Our home base was the little town of Ansbach near which the US Forces had a depot which had been converted from a former Luftwaffe flying base - only forty kilometers from Nurnburg, for generations a famous toy manufacturing center. Later it became infamous as the central rallying point for the early Nazi movement. With the little VW I explored every ancient winding Street of this fascinating old medieval town - only a VW or a small tank could have navigated the rubble of the narrow alleys and grounds surrounding what was left of the old city wall. - During the years of 1948/9 we ventured north into Germany, deep into the British Zone - circled through Holland, Belgium, and Luxembourg and once I drove back into France, as nearly as possible retracing the very ground my unit had fought through during the war - coming up through the Rhone Valley and circling through the much disputed Saar Territory to the “impregnable” Siegfried Line near Omarsheim, stopping at several castles which we had used as temporary headquarters for a day or so, occupied again by families who had resided there for generations. One in particular - Castle Adelsheim, where I was greeted most cordially by the old baron himself - a man in his seventies. The old gentleman seemed to be genuinely grateful that he still possessed his castle as permitted by the Allies of the Western Zones. He was aware that all nobility and large estate owners in the Russian occupied areas were driven from their homes - many of the fine old castles even destroyed. Most of the younger members of these families escaped to the West Zones, which was, in fact, the situation in my wife’s case.


Another interesting place we visited was the castle of Count Zeppelin. By 1949 he had been released from a PW camp - the present count being the grand-nephew of the inventor of the dirigibles - which created havoc over London in WWI. The present count was a man of about 30 and was intensely interested in going over every detail of the VW. He was amazed of the mechanical performance as we made a trial run over the steep treacherous roads about the castle grounds. The upholstery by this time began to look pretty shoddy - no doubt due to lack of adequate materials. It resembled nothing more or less than a cheap grade of burlap. - One spring day in 1 949 we decided to visit Switzerland but the southwest route from Germany did not necessitate negotiating the high peaked mountains following down the Rhine Valley (or rather “up”). We almost came unstuck but for the light weight of the VW. I had been intrigued by the gentle slope of a small river bank which appeared to be quite firm - and, being a warm day, thought it would be a good idea to drive down to the water’s edge and give the wagen a quick wash. Unfortunately, the gravel was on a soft bed, and before I realized it as I stood watching the wheels begin to settle in over the tire rims -- I jumped in hurriedly , and revving the motor while my friend pushed and lifted on the rear end I was able to bounce it out and shot off up the bank. Any other car would have required a tow-truck and a winch for certain. On this trip, we drove into the romantic little village of Vaduz, capital of Liechtenstein. Seeing the castle on the hill, we drove boldly up to the foreground before the drawbridge. It was here the VW met the young and charming Duchess of Liechtenstein (though we did not know who she was at the time as she was dressed in peasant costume, like her companion). This was before the days of tourists and one lone VW was of course a surprise visitor. The two “girls” came walkinci across the lawn to inquire if they could be of any help - probably thought we were lost as the road ended at this point. As was the custom in those days I offered cigarettes to the two girls - I noticed one always standing a little ways back waiting for the other to talk. I was interested to know who lived in the castle or if it was open for visitors. We were experiencing a language barrier, but by gesture we were invited to enter the castle. Unfortunately, it was late and my friend not being interested in “old piles of rock” we offered our thanks and declined the invitation. Back down in the village we went into the local general store to buy souvenirs. The old lady who waited on us spoke excellent English. My glance wandered to a large painting high on the wall - quite a beautiful young lady in fact the very one we had been talking to. The proprietress, noting my gaze, said “0 yes, that is our lovely Grand Duchess.” I have often thought of returning to collect my cigarette, which I felt had been taken under false pretenses.

By 1950 while “we” had never been in an accident, not even a dented fender, the fragile little bumpers had been twisted by “other parkers”and the little wagen looked pretty drab - and I decided it either had to be washed or repainted. A local man in Ansbach was one of the first in that part of the country to acquire proper equipment for spraying lacquer — so we decided on something between ivory or beige and the VW was given a “new look”; together with a new set of tires. It was now possible also to purchase a new set of bumpers - slightly heavier materials than the originals. The newer VWs in this year were now being produced with hydraulic brakes, and while I had never experienced with the old mechanical type any difficulties, I felt it would be wise at the time to purchase the conversion which was offered for DM400. Had I looked into the future I would have certainly had this done. By now we had clocked over 1 00,00 kms and I understood that the Wolfsburg Factory offered a gold watch to the first VWs to achieve this goal w/o having required a major overhaul. We wrote several letters, but my engagement to Gisela brought about other interests which over-shadowed a proper follow-up, though I did receive a very nice letter from the Wolfsburg Factory, 30 August 1951. I probably should mention that on one of our travels the VW met the last Crownprince of Germany, then living near his ancestral castle Hohenzollern in the southern part of Germany (Baden-Wuerttemberg). By virtue of Gisela’s father’s connection with the old Kaiser’s court we gained an audience with no difficulty and were hospitably received. We enjoyed a very delightful discourse on world events- and sometimes of the past. The prince spoke flawless English and was well known in the 30s as a sportsman - always interested in motorcars. He was delighted to note that we were driving a VW - the vehicle he had read much about but never seen. He questioned us on our plans for the future and offered the information that his daughter, Princess Cecily, had married an American Captain from Texas not many months before. He agreeably posed for a snapshot, which turned out quite well,( despite the fact it was a spur-of-the-moment idea and made without flash equipment -- Sadly, this must be the last picture of Wilhelm, Kronprinz, alive - we were to learn two weeks later that he had succumbed to a heart attack. Needless to say, the VW made one more trip to Burg Hohenzollern to the crownprince’s funeral.

In the months that followed Gisela applied for permission to emigrate to the US. One of my friends in the office whose family lives in Pueblo acted as sponsors. So the next long trip was to see Paris for a day or so then on to LeHavre, where Gisela boarded the French ship LIBERTE for New York. Four months later I drove the car to Bremerhaven, from which point it was to be shipped to New York, due to arrive in two or three months. During these months I returned to Kansas City where Gisela was waiting and we were shortly married. After a few weeks we were notified that the VW had been unloaded in New York and did we want to have it shipped to KC? I decided rather that it would be a good honeymoon trip to fly east, pick up the VW and tour New England, where I could give my wife a more colorful view of the early history of America. Traffic in those days was bearable, and the time of year was lovely - cherry blossoms in full bloom in Washington and the grounds of Mount Vernon were unbelievably beautiful. Washington’s home and contents were of considerable interest to Gisela who would soon become an American citizen. After touring Gettysburg and other famous points of historical interest, I secretly decided to deviate from our original plan to drive straight back to KC my second set of tires was beginning to weai a little thin but now in America with one new spare replacements could be obtained anywhere-. [decided to drive down the coast to Florida. There was scarcely any traffic as it was apparently too early for the tourist rush. Visiting Richmond, Va., and other places of tradition we finally settled down for two weeks on the coast of Florida. Here the little VW enjoyed the race up- and down the beach on the hard packed sand, where many great speed kings had driven their powerful cars for records. We returned from Daytona by way of Atlanta, Ga., to complete the huge triangle to KC - a total of over 7000 kms. And to my surprise without any tire trouble, though I- swear they were so thin when we started,- you could see- the air through the tread on a clear day. Likewise no difficulty with the car in any way - and, I might add that the total cost in gasoline and oil amounted to $22.40 -- I’d kept a record just for the hell of it. I really expected it to burn more oil at that age. I forgot to mention one flaw that developed while still in Germany the gear levers in the early cars were not made of high carbon steel, or whatever it requires for durability. Once- when shifting gears the handle- just came out of the floor, but I was already going forward in second gear. I drove over to the curbing threw out the clutch and turned off the engine. I discovered, with the aid of a screwdriver I was able to shift the gear into third and with this I drove to the nearest VW Service Station where I had a new one installed and bought a spare lever just for safety. (That is the one now in the tool bag). Once, while standing by the curb with the motor running, a group of youngsters in Kansas City was laughing and jeering at such a miniature contraption - remember, this was 1951, and still a VW in the Midwest was an oddity In my agitation I yanked the gear to get away from the noise and ripped the teeth out of number one I drove the rest of the summer starting- with second while I awaited a gear to be airlifted from Germany. I finally located a small agency for VW just opening in North KC. They had a couple of German mechanics and in a matter of an hour or two our little VW was back in business. Outside of one trip to St. Louis and to various vacation spots around Kansas City like Tapawingo, etc., there was no more adventure for the VW at my hands. As a result of orders transferring me with my wife to Bordeaux/France, we decided to put the bug up on blocks for “two years” - In fact it was three years later before we came home for a month’s leave - we bought a new battery for the VW, so we would have transportation - The License Bureau could not be bothered to issue a license for only thirty days or even a year. Apparently they had no scale on that kind of a car so we drove about for thirty days on the 1 951 German plate (which you found with the car) - Even a patrolcar which found the car parked on the wrong side of the road in front of the house joked about the little wagen and had just stopped because of interest said he really could not tell which way it was headed, so it would be out of the question to issue a ticket.

At the end of the thirty days the VW was again “shelved” beside our old 1935 Pierce Arrow, where they kept each other company for the next sixteen years.

It was a very sad day indeed when I finally sold these cars in the same week. I had sincerely dreamed that I would take the VW back to Germany with me for another grand tour. But unfortunately - or I should say fortunately - with care and devotion old cars can be restored to live again and give pleasure to others -- This is not so with their owners. But I relax in the thought that the people who receive these cars will faithfully rebuild them to their original standards - and in so doing give pleasure and enhance the interest in preserving vehicles of the passing years.

JOHN D. TOWNSLEY, JR.

PS: Must apologize for the length of the above story - but on reflection the VW brought back so many memories that as Gisela typed we just decided to make a little history - or as you might say “memoirs” for our own keeping -- even this called to mind many more adventures, and using the above as a guide, we may enlarge in a book some day.
"Mně se nesmí nikdo divit." (Pětišroub, 2016)

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Re: Nejstarší v UK a 1946 vůbec

Příspěvekod Sam » 06 zář 2013

Upon first looking at the VW, I could not understand how they had the nerve to ask $650.- for such a small, tinny affair with - what looked to be a motorcycle engine.

:D Naleštěná bída, zvykejte si :D
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Re: Nejstarší v UK a 1946 vůbec

Příspěvekod lope » 07 zář 2013

A stačila jedna cesta přes Alpy, a nevyměnil by ho ani za 2000 $ a jeep. Tomu autu lidi nějak propadali...

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Sam
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Re: Nejstarší v UK a 1946 vůbec

Příspěvekod Sam » 12 zář 2013

lope píše:A stačila jedna cesta přes Alpy, a nevyměnil by ho ani za 2000 $ a jeep. Tomu autu lidi nějak propadali...

Všechno to bylo domluvený kvůli marketingu a doteď v tom jedeme a držíme basu. :D
May/1955 Ovali (typ 1/13)
Aug/1950 Brezel (typ 11c)
Jan/1950 Brezel (typ 11a)
Jul/1948 Brezel (typ 11)

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Pětišroub
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Re: Nejstarší v UK a 1946 vůbec

Příspěvekod Pětišroub » 23 led 2014

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"Mně se nesmí nikdo divit." (Pětišroub, 2016)


Zpět na “klasické VWozy 1938-1966”

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