Austin TimesA NEWSLETTER FOR ENTHUSIASTS OF AUSTIN PRE-1955

October/November2004Volume 2Issue 4

IN THIS ISSUE

Pape at theCapeThe remarkable adventure ofRichard Papereaches its notquite inevitableconclusion

The man who rode with himand livedWorld exclusiveinterview withJohan Brun

A few littleodditiesWe discuss theearliest A30s andhow they differedfrom their latersisters

And comingsoon...

Gee-up to theraces, but horsesnot cars. Theamazing story ofthe Hammondhorse-box

And some morefrom foreign partswhen we takethat look at theDixi

And, of course,much more onAustin pre-1955

Few coronets,few kind hearts

byMartynNutland

Yet it is beyond ques-tion the Austin MotorCompany had aspira-tions to the luxury carmarket. It is equallytrue they neversecured the share ofthat sector they sorichly deserved, eventhough it is said thatin 1919 one of thecars Henry Royceconsidered most likelyto challenge his forth-coming Twenty wasthe Austin of

like horsepower.There are a number

of reasons for Austin’smediocre perform-ance in this category.One must be thatalthough the Sevenbenefited from theadage that it was ‘abig car in miniature’ ittended to work inreverse for the carswhich were actuallybig. The duchess orbarrister hardly want-ed a ‘big little car’ with

its comic associationsand, worse still, linksto the working class.

Maybe Longbridgeshould have followedthe path of Ford andadopted a new brandwith which to pursuetheir hopes ofgrandeur or Cadillacwhen they decided togo populist.

HYPERACTIVE

From everything weknow about the com-pany’s vociferous andhyperactive publicitymachine they shouldhave been able tocapitalize on such aploy.

Instead Austin sol-diered on with cars ofthe ilk of the Eighteenand Twenty, so beauti-fully described by acontemporary motor-ing writer, and repeat-ed by Wyatt in hismasterly The Austin1905-1952 as: ‘like a

Even on the grapevine, it is unlikelyLongbridge ever heard about the gen-tleman who threatened to return his

Rolls-Royce if it couldn’t be made to ride ascomfortably over a particular bump in theroad as the Austin it was to replace.

Shape of happiness -Twenty Eight in customaryrole, and how refreshingand classy to see a blackwedding car

There were three cars in the last series of Eighteen. They only differed toaccommodate interior changes and were all distinguished by a pert, stubby nose.

bishop’s wife, generously pro-portioned, full of good works,a little old fashioned as todress and a trifle dull’.

To take but one example,the 20 hp Ranelagh of 1933had the appearance of astretched and overgrownSeven or Ten. Although Motormagazine described it inOctober that year as ‘anexcellent proposition for any-one requiring a powerful androomy automobile’, with a topspeed not much better than60 mph and well over half aminute having elapsed while itgot there, it was not going tolight too many fires.

While with brakes that took28 feet to stop its two ton bulkfrom just 20 mph the desire touse what little performancethere was, was likely to beextinguished anyway. Eventhe hagiographic testers of theday were prompted to declare:‘the braking system is not aseffective for emergencies ascould be wished’.

Subsequent versions would,of course, have been some-what better. Girling brakes didnot arrive until 1936 but therecould be no dispute thebiggest Austins of the

mid-30s – the Whitehalls andCarltons, Yorks and Chalfonts,Westminsters and Mayfairs –were particularly smooth andflexible, and although veryexpensive – the aforemen-tioned Ranelagh had a pricetag of just under £600 -exceptional value for money.

Yet in terms of sales theywere hardly worth the effortwith output stalled somewherebetween four and six hundredcars a year.

BEGAN TO HAPPEN

For example, in 1933 629 20swere made, only 491 in 1934and some 555 in 1935 beforeslumping to 380 in 1937. Butthat year things began to hap-pen. The old order ofEighteens and Twenties start-ed to be swept away. For thenew season three newEighteens were announced.

These were the Norfolk,Windsor and Iver althoughanyone could be forgiven forasking where these cars weregoing. They were expensive.And to the average bystander– strange looking.

The Norfolk had a 9ft 4in wheelbase and five seats in a

commodious, if rather portly,body and cost £355 . The£375 Windsor was longer at10ft 3ins with seven seats,while the Iver was virtually thesame but came with a divi-sion. All of them had thesame short, stubby bonnet.

This was excused on thegrounds it was a safety fea-ture permitting excellent wing-to-wing forward vision. In real-ity it made the car lookungainly to many eyes andunlikely to appeal to anyoneother than customers whowanted to be quiet, comfyand watch the scenery slidegently by.Austin must have realised

this and pitched their patter ata group who sought all thesequalities, were never going tobe bothered as to whetherthey could beat the windowcleaner’s BSA M20 awayfrom the lights and were nottoo worried about looks.

So it was the Eighteenbecame adored by countrymaiden ladies whose elderly chauffeurs could easily adjustthe engine to Rolls-Roycelevels of silence and drivethem to give a fair imperson-ation of the Derby product.And when those matriarchsceased to need earthly trans-port their Eighteens frequentlylived on to put a smile on theface of many an undertakerand taxi driver.

But that didn’t pay the billsat Longbridge when less than2,000 found homes in 1938and production dwindled to afraction of that in the last yearof peace.

Yet they were to persist andcreate one, last, magnificent,anomaly.

Sometime around Christmas

This is an early engine differing in minor respects to later output. Note theexternal oil filter and linkage for the pistol grip handrake in the foreground.

1937, the Works would havebeen putting the finishingtouches to pre-productionexamples of the Twenty Eight.Like other crème de la crèmeAustins before, it was to takethe name of the prestigiousRegency pleasure gardens insouth London, calledRanelagh, and replace theTwenty Mayfair.

If the Eighteen could be criti-cized for its stubby nose andfigure, plump as a Norfolkturkey, this was Dick Burzi athis brilliant big beast best.An overall length of 17ft 2ins

lent sumptuous elegance tothe already comely curves ofRanelagh’s junior sisters, rightfrom Cambridge Ten throughto Fourteen Goodwood. Herewas perfect balance, rake andsweep.

The aesthetic problem withthe bonnet largely solved itselfby the need to accommodatea longer engine, but also by acosmetic 18ins extension inlength.

Beneath it the final floweringof that silent, torquey andunbustable side valve tookroot. This time the capacitywas 4,016 cc on a bore andstroke of 86.36 x 114.3 mmrespectively giving an RACRating of 27.75 horse powerwith 90 brake at a 3,200 rpmdawdle.

Construction followed stan-dard practice with a combinedcast iron block andcrankcase carrying the shaft,fitted with a torsional vibrationdamper, in four main bearings.

The pistons were ofanodized aluminium onforged steel rods. They car-ried three compression andone oil control ring and lived

under that not-totally-success-ful Austin innovation of 1938,an aluminium cylinder head.

Moving towards later prac-tice the valves were larger forinlet than exhaust and the tap-pets had the special feature ofpressure lubrication.

The camshaft was carried infour bearings and driven by athree row chain. Another inno-vation was found in the sumpwhere a pivoted strainer wasplaced over the oil pump pick-up, the idea being that itwould float on the surface ofthe oil and remain clear of gritand sludge.

GRAND COOLEY

There was also an external fil-ter on the pressure side of thepump, similar to that subse-quently fitted to the commer-cial vehicle engines.

Carburation was by a down-draught Zenith with an econo-my device fed by mechanicalpump while sparks were deliv-ered by a totally conventionalLucas coil and distributor.

Grand Cooley quantitiesfilled the cooling system thefour gallon capacity supple-mented by a thermostat,

initially Longbridge’s eleganttwin blade aluminium fan,later a four blade design and,unusually, a coolant pump.

The question is sometimesposed as to why Austin both-ered with this development ofthe side valve, at all. Punditsargue that they must havealready been aware of theintended move to overheadvalve, if not already actively involved in designing their sixcylinder 3,459 cc unit of thattype to go into the commer-cials and, in enlarged form,considered suitable for thepost-war A125 Sheerline.

Would it not have been moresensible to adopt this enginefor the new limousine? Wecan only speculate, but it ispossible the company felt theyhad to supplement the topend of the range in early1938and couldn’t wait a day longer.But why, when the Eighteenitself wasn’t doing particularlywell?

Or maybe, Leonard Lord,who arrived in 1938 could notpersuade Herbert Austin thatthe new ‘overhead valve’could provide the silkensilence, the company’s tradi-tional customers expected,

particularly as it only produced70 bhp, only barely more thanthe Eighteen. Or, maybe mak-ing a change on the TwentyEight – production code DJP –wasn’t worth the hassle whenLord had so many other proj-ects to pursue.

The Twenty Eight drovethrough a dry single plateclutch, flexibly centred, to afour speed gearbox. The leverhad a swan-neck at its basewhich was advertised as help-ful when slidinginto and out ofthe driving seatfrom the left side,but in reality, andas on theEighteen, wasprobably to bringthe knob conve-niently to the dri-ver’s hand whenthe ‘box was setfurther back thanon, say, aGoodwood.

The drive pro-ceeded rear-wards by a twopiece transmis-sion shaft, the front section ofwhich was attached to therear of the gearbox by a flexi-ble coupling not unlike thatused on the lowly Seven.

The opposite end passedthrough a ball bearing sup-ported just behind the cruci-form bracing of the chassis. Itthen linked with its counterpartvia a Hardy Spicer universaljoint, a similar device of thistype being used to attach it tothe three quarter floating, spi-ral bevel axle.

Suspension was by semi-elliptic springs all round, inter-leaved, in Longbridge’s pre-ferred manner, with zinc. Ason other top quality cars,

channels were providedbetween the leaves to aidlubrication. Damping was byLuvax hydraulics of piston variety.

You pointed your Ranelaghwith a Marles Weller cam andlever system and stopped itstwo tons with excellent butunassisted Girling wedge androller brakes applied by fullycompensated rods.

Other chassis featuresincluded a Smiths hydraulic

jacking system which had itspump and selector mecha-nism for front, back or all fourwheels, mounted beneath apanel in the floor of the frontpassenger compartment. Theprospect though of a two toncar wobbling on four spindlyjack columns is not tooappealing.

Those privileged to drive aTwenty Eight would havefound the ‘bridge’ not dissimi-lar to other Austins from theCambridge up. Exactly thesame neat instrument boardin front of the driver withspeedometer and its integralseven day clock and tripodometer to the left, and a

circular grouping of the samediameter to the right contain-ing oil pressure gauge,ammeter and fuel contentsindicator. Same central winderto open the windscreen, withknobs on the facia cappingrail to start and park the twinwindscreen wipers.

Absent though, as now on allAustins from the Twenty Eightdown, would have been thebeautifully crafted centralhandbrake lever in favour of a

pistol grip type, under the

‘dash’ on the rightside, as on the

Eighteen. And asthis was primarilychauffeur territory

some of therefinements you

might expect in acar of this

extreme opulenceand high costwere missing.

No lid to theglove box, for

instance, and notemperature

guage, althoughthere was a convex exteriordriving mirror, and naturally,more chic than the mostmicro-chipped of mobiles, aone-way telephone, to enablethe master or mistress in therear saloon behind their slid-ing division, to communicatewith their chauffeur, but notvice versa!

Their home from home waslavishly appointed in theextreme. Bedford Cord orleather was the medium forthe upholstery and both mate-rials may have appeared onany one car – hard-wearingleather in the front compart-ment for instance, the moredelicate fabric to the rear.

The impressive interior of the Ranelagh, complete with swan-neck gearlever, occasional seats and footrests.

There were fully upholstered,forward-facing occasionalseats which folded into thepartition when not in use andallowed footrests to be raised.

The main rear seat squabwas claimed to be what wemight term ‘ergonomicallydesigned’, but in any event,for maximum comfort, wasadjustable fore-and-aft bysome five inches using aratchet system . Side andcentre arm rests were provid-ed, the latter being ‘two-elbow’width.

Further trimmings included amagazine net suspended fromthe head lining, four armslings, passenger controlledblinds for the rear and quarterwindows and for the partition.

RATHER SILLY

There were also reading lightsin each rear corner and sunkinto the quarters themselveswhat were described as ‘com-panion sets’ which we mightinterpret as either a vanity boxor smoker’s kit.

The latter was supplementedby a small rectangular sky-light described grandiosely inthe specification as a ‘fumeexcluder’ but generally takento be the means by which hislordship’s cigar smoke couldescape. In reality this lookedrather silly – like a very small,square hat on a very largerectangular head!

Considering there was noheater in either compartmenta great deal of attention waspaid to ventilation. All six sidewindows opened. On the frontones the action moved theglass both down and back-wards. To achieve this thewinding mechanism was verycomplex and allowed

a horizontal rearward move-ment of about two-and-a-halfinches after initial closure. Notat all draught proof; but clever.

The back quarter windowssimply pulled back by hand.

SUITCASES

Keeping those in the backwarm was taken care of byheavy carpets and a sheep-skin rug whereas the driverdressed for the part and tookwhat comfort he could from abig hot engine.

A particular feature of theexterior of the Ranelagh wasextremely wide rear doors. Awheelbase of 11 ft 4 insallowed a width in the order ofthree feet without any intru-sion by the wing.At the rear of the car the

boot contained two very largefitted suitcases as well asstraps in the unlikely event ofthe owner wanting to secureadditional luggage to the fold-flat lid rather than sending itahead by God’s WonderfulRailway!

Information on coloursoffered to the Twenty Eightpurchaser is contradictory.

ADVERTISED

Salesmen were advised intheir confidential handbook tooffer hues which were clearlyintended to reflect the dignityof the product - royal blue,black and deep coach green.Yet in literature for popularconsumption the full range ofeight Austin shades wereadvertised, maroon, ash grey,princess and bluebird bluesand pueblo brown beingadded to those already men-tioned. It is unlikely theseoptions were often taken up,

but the writer has to reveal heknew an Eighteen whichdeparted radically from thecustomary black, royal blueand dark green!

The first Twenty Eights werein existence very early in 1938when a pre-production batchwas made for promotionalpurposes.

That iconic figure amongAustin enthusiasts, FreddieHenry, who joined the compa-ny in 1926, went on tobecome head of the experi-mental department and was,for many years, chairman ofthe Austin ex-ApprenticesAssociation, wrote in 1984 tothe then owner of a TwentyEight.

LORRY ENGINE

He confirmed that one ofthese early cars went to thecompany’s London office anda second to Longbridge’ssales department.

Mr Henry goes on to explainhow, after the Twenty wasreplaced by the newRanelagh, it was itself des-tined to be ousted in 1940 bya model called the Colonialusing an up-rated version ofthe 3.5 litre lorry engine men-tioned earlier. Of course,World War II intervened.

He also explains that to trimcosts some of the panels forthe long wheelbase 18 hp York were used in theTwenty Eight. It is possiblethese were the rear doors asin most other respects late30s Eighteens and the TwentyEight are more curvy.

The Ranelagh would havebeen in the public domain bymid-summer 1938 and wasimmediately strongly promot-ed. Autocar were covering it in

This is the imposing cover illustration from the only brochure devoted exclu -sively to the Twenty Eight. The improvement in appearance that results fromthe longer bonnet is quite obvious if this car is compared with the Eighteen.

some detail as early as July,the month of Austin’s ‘newseason’ announcements andMotor featured it front coverthe following month. Naturallythe model also starred inLongbridge’s own literature.

But just as there is no filmofTitanic there appears to beno actual road tests of theTwenty Eight, a trawl of theUK National Motor Museum’sexcellent archive at Beaulieuhaving drawn a blank.

Even so, Austin now not onlyhad a fine range of cars in thecatalogue, they had one mag-nificent one.

Yet it wasn’t going to happenfor the Ranelagh. Wouldn’t,nor couldn’t.

At £700 the Twenty Eightmay have been magnificentvalue, but it was still veryexpensive.

Nearly the price of twoNorfolk Eighteens or a fleet ofsix Austin Sevens!

And who was going to buy itanyway. The marketing issues

highlighted at thebeginning of thearticle still pre-vailed. TheTwenty Eightwasn’t even avail-able without apartition. So itwas hardly likelyto appeal to theaffluent profes-sional or busi-nessman whowanted a fast,powerful, luxurycar to take familyor friends onmotoring holidaysat home orabroad.

Those maidenladies certainlyweren’t going to

fork out the best part of£1000 when an Eighteenwould do the job for them justas well, and the same appliedto the hackney and undertak-ing trade particulary as therewere always plenty of secondhand Twenties and Eighteensknocking around. Remembera ‘20’ horsepower model had,along with the Seven, thelongest production run of anyAustin model.

That left his worship themayor, embassies and thegovernment. In the firstinstance we immediately getour chain in something of atwist because for most com-munities which warranted amayoral car, the Ranelaghwould have seemed veryexpensive for what it was,and, no doubt, rather political-ly incorrect. And for those suf-ficiently prestigious to affordone, a Daimler or Rolls-Roycestated status better.As regards embassies –

there aren’t that many andoverseas the latter two mar-ques were always going towave the flag for Britain farmore effectively than Austin.

Even a price cut of nearly astaggering 15 per cent, to£595, after just a few months’production, didn’t help muchand must have been acutelyembarrassing.Admittedly some were sup-

plied for ministerial use but atthe end of the day a verysmall number of Ranelaghswere sold. Some have sug-gested 350 but Wyatt sticks atjust 300 – 138 in 1938, 152the following year and just 10in 1940.

Yet this was the pinnacle ofAustin’s big car production,certainly before the war andpossibly for all time. More ele-gant than anything else, morepowerful and more luxurious.

The Sheerline which fol-lowed was principally anowner driver car and in longwheelbase form – hideous. Itwas only in 1952 with thelaunch of the Vanden PlasPrincess that the wonderfulRanelagh found a worthy –and long lived – successor.

For the most part, we arereminded of the Twenty Eightwhen we catch a glimpse ofone on film footage of wartimeDowning Street or Chequers.Yet there are survivors.

The very car Freddie Henryremembers with the

THERE WAS little to singabout as Pape and Brunneared Bordeaux and spedon through Spain toGibraltar.

The Westminster hadreceived its first grease, oilchange and general check-over at Automobile Baillac inthe southern French city.

Longbridge sales departmentnow belongs to HertfordshireAustin enthusiast and Timesreader,Vic Hind. DOV 420served the company until1950 spending its last yearsferrying personnel from Worksto the Birmingham railway sta-tions. Afterwards, predictably,it spent time in the carriagetrade before being acquired

Interestingly and idiosyncrati-cally, Pape had just looked upthe local agent in the car’shandbook and driven round tothe premises in RueTastet.

It is an enormous credit to theefficiency and hospitality ofAustin’s overseas service net-work that not only were theyable to raise the vehicle aloftat a moment’s notice and giveit a meticulous examinationbut also provide wine and fruit

by Vic in the late 1990s andundergoing a major rebuild.

Obviously DOV is one of thevery first 28s and it’s possiblethe XE 1038 chassis numberis an experimental departmentdesignation since FreddieHenry has pointed out thesenumbers usually began ‘onezero’, although he would haveexpected the letter code EXP.A very late car in immaculate

original condition also sur-vives and differs from DOV inmany details mostly associat-ed with the interior trim.

The mortal remains of yet athird Twenty Eight are knownto exist.

And who knows, somewherein the dusty gloom of remotecountry garages, the beastsmay still sleep….

If Gunnar Melle and RichardPape had settled their differ-

ences in that Oslo meetingroom, they would only havekilled each other on the road.

This is the verdict of JohanBrun who replaced Melle, andsubsequently all the other co-drivers, alongside Pape inthe A90.

Mr Brun later became a dis-tinguished photo-journalistcovering prestigious sportsevents, including the MonteCarlo Rally, for his newspa-per, the Oslo-based Dagbladet. Subsequently heco-ordinated the pictorial cov-erage of the 1994 WinterOlympics staged in Norway.

‘Whizzo’ flypast and Pape’s on his way

Heroin the

passengerseat

Bent Horsington concludes his account ofRichard Pape’sremarkable Cape-to-Capeadventure

Richard Pape

This article could not havebeen written or illustrated

without the generousassistance of Vic Hind,Austin enthusiast par

excellence. The editor isdelighted to acknowledge

his contribution andextend his thanks

Sahara - the saddest place on Earth.

for the travellers.Equally idiosyncratic was the

departure from Bordeauxwhen the A90 became caughtup in streams of holiday trafficheading for Bayonne andBiarritz. But if all was wellunder the bonnet this was notthe case in the cabin.

The two men were at eachothers throats, first over Brun’spain-wracked driving andmore venomously over pressdesptaches to be wired fromMadrid. This last was resolvedwhen Brun confessed hisphysical agony and thereensued a 770 mile dash at anaverage speed of well over 50mph to reach Gibraltar and adoctor.

True to form, entry toGibraltar was not without inci-dent. One thing led to another.The Spaniards would not openthe frontier gates. Pape hit thebarrier with a club hammerthen resorted to sounding thefour foot long trumpet of theelephant horn. A carbine waspoked through the gate andPape snatched at the muzzleinjuring the riflemen. Furtherforce arrived and levelledweapons. Pape and the Austin

retreated and accessed theterritory in the cooler atmos-phere of the following morning.

Brun was provisionally diag-nosed as having a gallstoneand was hospitalized leavingPape to face the most fear-some part of his adventure todate; and alone. But it was notto be. At a party in his honourin the Gibraltar RAF station’ssergeants’ mess, when hewas probably ‘oats and malt’,or, as he was alternativelyinclined to declare, ‘beer-borne’, he called for a volunteer.

FOOLISH

A 25 year-old sergeant fromLancashire, Johnny Johnson,due a fortnight’s local leave,was sufficently foolish to takethe pledge.

Crossing the Sahara pre-sented a number of problemsfor Pape both material andadministrative. The French,more than any other nation,and as far as is possible, hadworked to tame this three mil-lion square mile landscape. In 1955 it was they who

Today he contributes to bookson his native land with adozen to his credit. A fewmonths ago Mr Brun sat downwith Austin Times editorMartyn Nutland to recall hisdays with Richard Pape andan assignment which shouldhave lasted five weeks, buttook three months.

What was the background tohis involvement? ‘I wasalways enthusiastic abouttackling challenging storiesand I actually had an interestin cars, he explained. ‘I grewup in the mountains betweenBergen and Oslo and as a kidwe used to build wooden bug-gies and race them down theslopes.‘By the time I was at school I

was pestering a country doc-tor relative to let me drive hiscar. I cut my motoring teethon the bumpy, twisting, moun-tain roads around his practice.But, driving the Plymouth, andlater a V8 Ford, brought withit responsibilities, like mainte-nance, so I got to know aboutthe workings of cars as well. Ialways say that had I notworked on a newspaper Ishould have liked to havebeen a mechanic!’

Mr Brun is self-effacingabout his forays into motorsport. ‘I bought a red, 1939,two seater, supercharged MGbecause I had a fifty-fifty inter-st in girls and cars,’ he says.‘But as well as driving it upand down the high street Iventured once onto the iceracing track, crashed on thefirst bend and disappointedmy friend, who was waiting totake photos of me whizzingpast!’

Interestingly Mr Brun was‘volunteered’ for his adventurewith Pape, while returning

from covering a major motorrace in southern Sweden.

Once on the road it musthave been obvious that thetwo men were not exactlyfrom the same school of driving.

‘Quite frankly,’ reveals MrBrun, ‘he wasn’t a very gooddriver and did some remark-able things. On one occasion,when we were still in Europeand I was ‘off-watch’, sleep-ing in the back of the car, hesuddenly slammed on thebrakes from very high speed.I was woken up very abruptlyand asked what was goingon. Pape’s explanation wasthat he had to test the brakes.

‘ Another time, in Africa, wewere approaching a river overwhich a bridge was beingbuilt. It wasn’t completethough, and there was aspace between the makeshiftdeck and road the other side.Pape who had had a fewdrinks the night before arrivedat speed and made the Austin‘leap’ the gap. It landed withsuch force that the front sus-pension was driven up intothe bodywork. Afterwards wehad very little groundclearence. Pape’s explanationwas he hadn’t seen thebridge.’

These are just two exam-ples of the remarkable behav-iour of someone, who, at theend of the day, was a remark-able man. Talking of Pape inthis context, Mr Brun says:‘He was very tough. Quiteoutrageous. He liked to bedramatic. I was always callinghim “bloody Pape”, and heseemed to like that. ‘That is why I say, if he had

got in that car with GunnarMelle, who was also a verystrong personality, they would

administered the convoyswhich are the only sane wayto cross. They also provideda basic search and rescueservice to deliver the very,very few who survive mishapin the seething sands andblow-torch heat of that desert.

Pape had inadequatepaperwork. But much moreimportantly, wanted to crossin a lone vehicle, during highsummer when the Frenchprohibit such activity.

He and Johnson sailed fromGibraltar inhigh spiritson theMonsCalpe andwere givena flypast byRAF jets.‘Whizzo’ ,chuckledJohnson.

But hav-ing arrivedin Tangierthey weresoon in trouble on the ques-tion of papers. Pape bluffedhis way through and they setout for Algiers. The A90 wasnow burdened with a twowheel trailer Pape had hadshipped from England toGibraltar.

Soon after, the car’s leftfront wheel plunged into acavernous pot-hole and theAustin sustained the firstdamage on its adventure - abuckled spring plate. The twomen straightened the compo-nent and pressed on butPape was growing increas-ingly unnerved by the ‘sul-leness and furtiveness’ of theArabs, but took some comfortfrom his gas shells in theboot - ‘designed for temporar-ily blinding and

suffocating aggressors.’They made Arabaoua and

more trouble over paperwork.Pape bluffed again and they-motored on through Morocco.At the French bank in Azrou,he forged Johan Brun’s signa-ture to cash travellers’cheques. The temperature inthe shade was upwards of120° Farenheit - sufficient tobuckle the Austin’s doors sothey couldn’t be opened orclosed. On twisting upgrades,

hamperedby the

petrol andspares

ladentrailer, the

A90 wasboiling

and suf-fering det-onation. Afour blade

‘export’fan was

still stowed in RLD 164 in sub-zero Norway. Johnson record-ed the facts in the log andadded the comment : ‘Papelost second set of car keys’.

The simple expedients ofremoving the thermostat andflushing the radiator helpedthe overheating and Pape gotthe car onto a heading for theoasis of Dsar-es-Souk. But anavigational error sent themnorth east instead of southand the Austin up to its axlesin soft sand.

A frenzy of see-sawingbetween forward and reversegear tore the lever from itsmountings and just before thetrack was regained the A90gave symptoms of a brokenaxle shaft - engine revving,clutch engaged, driven wheels

The heavily laden trailer was an impediment

An unusually amicable encounterwith authority.

stationary. But the gut-wrenching anguish wasassuaged. Their treatment ofthe transmission had causedtemporary clutch slip and theWestminster rapidly recoveredher will to live.

As ‘punishment’ though Papewas soon chopping holes inthe roof with a hammer andcold chisel to fit suspension U-bolts and reattach the enor-mous roof rack. It had brokenfree damaging, but not shat-tering the windscreen, dentingthe bonnet and wing and dis-tributing its vast load acrossthe sand. In the same exer-cise, breasting a blind inclineat 45 mph before plunging intoa rock strewn gulley, Papehad torn away the sumparmour.

Eventually the large fortifiedvillage of Bou Denib wasreached but by now the con-tent of a dozen communiquesborne by telegraph wire orcamel-mounted messengerhad caught up with them -passport swindle, unautho-rized Sahara crossing, militarydeserters. Again, howLongbridge must have‘praised Allah’ they were notthere.

‘Biggest mix-up in Saharahistory’, opined the intelli-gence section commandant atthe local gendarmerie as he

as he threw them in gaol. ‘I’msending you back to someoneelse. Let them sort it out.’

For Johnny Johnson the‘sorting out’ could not havebeen pleasant. He was to behanded over to the RAF policein Casablanca, as a deserter.Richard Pape, it nearly killed.

He promised his Bou-Denib‘tormentors’ he would drivedirectly to Colomb-Bechar forthe minor charges against himto be processed, and, aban-doning the trailer, set out intowhat has been described asthe ‘saddest, most broken-hearted piece of land in theworld’.

CHANGE OF HEART

But he cheated. Detouring, hehammered the A90 over adried river bed to evade theofficers sent out from ‘Bechar’to meet him. Having surviveda sandstorm he powered theAustin into the Algerian townat 5 am and was soon to meetanother amiable German.

This one turned out to be amotor mechanic and wasengaged to make a proper jobof the roof rack repair andreplace the sump guard. Acurious change of heart fol-lowed; about Germans, butalso about his ambitions.

Pape teetered on the brink ofabandoning a crossing untilthe open season. On the onehand he was tempted by acomfortable hotel and bedev-illed by papers and rubberstamps, on the other by thelooming form of a large well-equipped lorry manned byexperienced hands about toleave for Adrar and which hecould accompany.

But with his passport nowvalidated and every indication

simply have killed each other.Yet when we called to see thewidow and family of theDutchman who had helpedPape in the war, I saw him dif-ferently. He was clearlytouched they were so delight-ed to see him and becamevery gentle, almost soft.’

But the other extreme wasnever very distant. Arriving inParis, with time, as ever, at apremium, Pape wanted tosnatch a bite at one of thesnack bars used by marketporters at Les Halles. With hisfood before him he drew hispistol and handed it to MrBrun so the latter could‘cover’ him while he ate.And Johan Brun has ‘dined-

out’ on his brief sojourn in thecapital ever since. ‘I am oneof the few people to have vis-ited Paris and not seen theEifel Tower,’ he laughs.

The humour and the traumawere often inseparably mixed.‘Clearly, when I was taken illand hospitalized in GibraltarPape had to find another com-panion,’ Mr Brun acknowl-edges. ‘I’m sure the associa-tion with Johnson only arosethrough the bravado of youngairmen drinking together inthe mess. That barman has alot to answer for. As it wasthey took my clothes andpassport and I swapped

He drew his pistol and handedit to Mr Brunto cover him while he ate

They took myclothes and mypassport and Iswapped identitieswith the newcomer

the local authorities wouldsend him back to Algiers Papehad a second change of heartand bolted. He was soon lost.Once more in the thick of hisperilous adventure, he soughtguidance from a group ofwandering Arabs. To Pape’smind, they misdirected him,then set the dogs on him, oneof which he promptly shot.

With the A90 finally pointingtowards Adrar he unknowinglyveered off the track and a littlefurther on ploughed into con-cealed rock at more than 50mph. Even so, this remarkableAustin, which a few weeksbefore, had been living the lifeof a totally standard family car,was not seriously hurt. Theleft hand coil spring had bro-ken, yet the main suspensionand steering componentswere undamged while thearmour plate refitted by theGerman mechanic in Colomb-Bechar had protected the restof the underside.

Breaking all the rules, Papedecided to walk rather thanstay with his vehicle. He wan-dered to and fro, just out ofsight of the A90, in greatsemi-circles totalling about 12miles, while all the time thefirm track was only a little waybehind the ditched car. In theend, totally exhausted, he

heard that demon-ic laughter whichsome say is thecall of Raoul, thedark angel of thelost traveller, andresolved he wouldshoot himselfbefore sunset.

Pape was foundby ShaambaArabs, skilledtrekkers paid abounty by theFrench to seek

out the disparut. He was takento Adrar to recover and somedays later returned by camelfor the A90. Wedges of palmwood were used to supportthe broken suspension andthe gallant Austin passedthrough the fortified gates ofthe ancient town under herown power. But, as Papecommented: ‘My two shirtshad disappeared for ever.’

The treatment Johnson hadreceived at the hands of theRAF had sorely disillusionedPape as regards that organization.

SOLO LORRY

He now seems to enter into anew phase of respect, admira-tion and affection for theFrench authorities. Word isgiven, and kept: he willremain at Adrar until there is aconvoy. And apart from using‘Roberta’ to run-through twoally cats which ‘mug’ him foran empty sardine can, life inthe town proceeds peacefullyuntil that day comes.

It is a solo lorry which even-tually arrives, but driven by aSahara navigator of uncannyskill and one of the few menallowed to cross the desert inthe closed season. Called just

When heat wasn’t a problem rain was.

identities with the newcomer,which wasn’t very sensible.After the pair had got into thedesert and Johnson had beentaken away by the militarypolice, I had the devil of a jobto catch up with Pape.’

But wouldn’t he have liked tohave gone straight home fromGibraltar. ‘No,’ Mr Brun con-tinues, ‘I was on a story andcommitted to seeing it throughand doing my job.’

Consequently he flew toLondon and got a flight fromthere to Kano. It was in theNigerian city that Mr Brunacquired replacement shockabsorbers for the Austin.

‘There was only one A90 inthis part of Africa and that wasin the dealer ’s showroom.Fortunately he was veryhappy for me to take thedampers as he wanted to helpPape. As a result I took vari-ous other bits off the car aswell.’

By now the partnershipbetween Johan Brun andRichard Pape was nearing itsend.

In Albertville, with furtherexpensive damage to theAustin, the money is runningout.

Mr Brun describes theencounter with “the old colo-nial gentleman”. ‘I supposeyou could liken him to Stanleyor Livingstone,’ he says. ‘Ithink it’s possible Pape knewof him already. The old manhad married an Africanwoman, which wasn’t sociallyacceptable in those days, sofound himself virtually ostra-cized. Anyhow, we had asuperb meal with this gentle-man and his charming wife buthe wouldn’t lend Pape anymoney.

‘So, with the bills for the

Hammond he is allocated to the A90 while a colleague tookthe wheel of the wagon.

A series of commands whichwould have done Moss andJenkinson credit were agreed -un and a Chuchillian V-sign forleft; the same and deux forright; trois, trois, trois for fullthrottle, and so on. Even amaster of the sands likeHammond got embedded, butultimately they reachedTessalit and after a rest, Papeand the A90 joined two othercars and made a 20-hour non-stop dash to Gao.

Ali Ben Mohammed Farrasiwas never a co-driver as such.Just a man who wanted a liftto Kano. Sated with quinineand whisky, both as protectionagainst malaria, Pape tookhim. Some hours later insheeting rain they were in ahole. Ten feet deep and quitesufficient to fracture both theA90’s front shock absorberseven if the African mechanicentrusted with topping them upin Gao had not used paraffinand left the filler plugs loose.Pape was again ready to quit.Ali Farrasi bowed to the Eastand uttered the word Inshallah(God willing).The Englishmanshouldered his rifle and head-ed for the nearest village.

Brun was now sufficientlyrecovered to have reachedKano and intended to meet hiscompatriot there. Pape’s inten-tion was to get a message tohim advising the adventurewas ‘off’.

But he was to have anapparition on the road toAnsongo - a large femalemeercat and two of her young,lying in the grass before him,teeth bared, hissing and readyto go. Wild animals neverbeing a problem for Pape, he

hotel and the car repairsunpaid, Pape managed to getaway, but I was virtually underarrest. I didn’t mind from anumber of viewpoints. I feltPape could now get to CapeTown on his own. After all theroads were good; it was easydriving. For my part the chiefof police took me in and Ilived comfortably in excellentcompany. In addition, I wasable to take photographs andmeet the local people.Explaining snow was onething, but ice - impossible!’

In a way the colonial gentle-man did turn up trumps for theexpedition - or at least for MrBrun. ‘He had a chain ofstores located around theshores of Lake Tanganyikaand took me on to drive himaround in the supply wagon. Itwas hard work, paricularlywhen we were so heavilyladen the front wheels gotpoised above the ground onthe atrocious roads. I had tounload the darned thing singlehanded - he had every debili-tating tropical complaint youcould imagine - to get goingagain. But it helped get thecash flowing.

I drove for about threeweeks and then intended tomake my way to the east

killed the parent and one of itsoffspring with a single highvelocity bullet.

The rumpus brought localscrowding from the bush.Capitalizing on his hero statusPape, who was to observe ofthe Nigerians, ‘they enjoyhelping a motorist if he does-n’t try to intimidate them’,mustered a salvage party. A500 franc note thrown ontothe mud and three packets ofNorwegian biscuits probablyhelped too.

The car was hauled back toAnsongo, and having beenrescued by the locals duringthe night from ‘carniverous,cat-sized frogs’, Paperemoved the shock absorbersand straightened the suspen-sion members. A rescue carsubsequently arrived fromGao with another Germanmechanic, the ‘dampers’ werefilled with engine oil and theA90 made it back to its laststarting point.

SCAVENGING

Injections of paludrinerestored Pape’s spirits and hewas soon enthusiasticallycabling Brun: ‘Bring newshock absorbers. Cape toCape continues.’

Somehow the heroic youngNorwegian located anotherA90 in North West Africaacquired its shock absorbersand headed for Gao.Meanwhile Pape was scav-enging a scrapyard wherefailed Sahara vehicles wereleft to die for old lorry springsand pieces of railway track.These he used to lock thesuspension solid, observing: ‘Imade the car into a panzerwithout any flexibility orspringing whatsoever. A

Pape managed to get away,but I was virtually under arrest

I had to unloadthe darned thingsingle handed, hehad every complaintyou could imagine

British car will ride withoutspringing. If the designers ofthe famous Austin A90 hadseen what I had done to theirdream, they’d have given upthe ghost’.

In truth, if he had left whatthe designers had done wellalone the A90s monocoquewould probably not havesplit, when, vision blurred bya malaria attack, Pape took ahumped wooden bridge atspeed.

But by then Brun was backat his side, and so was AliFarrasi, having the trip of alifetime as they enteredKano. An experience topped,no doubt, by the British hotelof Brun and Pape’s choicerefusing to give an Arab abed. The rains of Nigeria wereonly excelled by those ofGamboro in the FrenchCameroons. To makeprogress the Austin, nowwithout its silencer andapplauded by Pape as ‘run-ning like a new Spitfire’, hadconstantly to back-track andcircumnavigate. Seemingly itwas strapped to the timbersof make-shift ferries moreoften than on land, wallowingand pitching its way to

the Congo. Hauling the car from bonnet-

deep mud, running terrifiedfrom an outbreak of yellowfever, dodging the poisonedarrow of a pygmy, cutting, atone point, their own 500 yard‘by-pass’ through virgin jungle;two flattened goats, a dog andabout 10 chickens later, theyhit Albertville. Also along theway locals had stolen their mattresses and more impor-tantly Brun’s jacket containingtheir pills and almost allthe Belgian francs.

Pape’s answer to the mone-tary crisis was to try and sellhis camera and the rifle, butthe ploy was viewed with thegravest suspicion by theBelgians. With just enoughfuel to get to the Rhodesianborder where they couldobtain sterling, and the equiv-alent of 14 shillings in theirpockets, they set out again.

The front of the Ford V8estate car was demolished inthe crash. To the credit of the men who designed andbuilt the A90 it survived thehead-on collision with thespeeding, uninsured Fordremarkably well, and merciful-ly, no one was injured.

coast, take pictures, andfinally get a boat home.However, money from mypaper came through justbefore I was due to leave andI flew back directly. I can hon-estly say, this time in Africawas the best part of thewhole venture!’As is well known, Richard

Pape arrived in Cape Town -the first man ever to travelfrom ‘Cape Cold to Cape Hot’by motor car. Johan Brunnever joined him at the desti-nation and, amazingly, theynever spoke or communicat-ed after Albertville.

It is fascinating to speculateabout Pape’s relationshipwith The Austin MotorCompany, for whom, ostensi-bly, he was providing somuch publicity.

OPEN THE DOORS

Mr Brun’s insight is valu-able: ‘Naturally, I don’t knowanything about the businessside of things. What I can sayis there actually wasn’t muchinterest in the feat. Papethought it was important, soimportant that it would openall the doors for him alongthe way. But it didn’t.

‘For example the Austindealer in Oslo, very correctly“English”, was not veryimpressed with the wholething particularly when all thereports about us having to dothis or that to the car werecoming in. And, as far as Iam aware there was no pub-licity in Norway afterwards,not even pinned to the launchof the book.

‘Sure, in Africa, some of theyoungsters may have beenenthused, but generally theFrench and British wondered

Pape repels troublesome natives with his DDT spray

why he was doing it and if hedidn’t have something betterto achieve. Even now, when Igive talks about my career injournalism and show slides,this is the one aspect whichinterests very few people.That said it was a pioneeringdrive and it was important forPape as he was not one ofthe great drivers.’

Mr Brun is also interestingon the A90 itself . ‘The carwas too weak for the job, par-ticularly as regards the sus-pension. Pape knew people inAfrica who had told him heneeded this item and the nextand he overloaded themachine mercilessly. Also,

even this time after the war, Idon’t think the quality wasthere. But the engine wasgood and it was comfortable -for driving around the Englishcities!’

Even so, shortly after hisreturn to Oslo Mr Brun invest-ed in an A40 Sports ,described as : ‘an excellentcar with an alloy body. I droveit extensively in navigationalrallies for many years and wealso travelled to many parts ofEurope in it.’And personally, was Cape to

Cape worth it? Johan Brun issuccinct. ‘It was an experi-ence, and I am still alive afterit. So yes, it was worth it.’

Richard Pape had a numberof other motoring adventures,wrote more books, went to livein South Africa and

It was an experience, andI am still alive after it. So yes,it was worth it

The main damage to theAustin was a fracture in thefront cross member which leftsuspension and steeringgeometry at absurd angles.Yet it struggled under its ownpower to an Albertville garagerecommended by the ownerof the miscreant Ford.

SHUTTLE

Pape wired Austin’s long-suf-fereing Jim Bramley to havea new cross member flownout and both men cabledtheir respective sources formoney. They had more suc-cess with the componentthan the cash as the formerarrived in Elizabethville afterseven days to await a shuttleto Albertville three days later.

During the fraught interludePape had worked withnatives and a Portugesemechanic to strip down andrepair the entire front of theWestminster. Brun, who hadmade friends with some localpolice officers, reduced thehotel bill by accompanyingthem on a visit to a mysteri-ous and aristocraticEnglishman living high in themountains.

TOM CATS

Never the most patient ofmen, Richard Pape, now suffering again from malariaand covered in an ominousrash, must have beendemented with frustration ashe learned Gunnar Melle waspowering towards Cape Townwith a German not far behind.So he threw caution, and withit his English reserve, to theelements as deftly as hedespatched those Adrar tomcats

The Portugese fitter and hisnative helpers were persuad-ed to work through the nightwelding and bracing the bro-ken cross member with old lorry springs, on which theexpedition had clearly cometo depend. Pape himself wentto look for money and eventu-ally found himself on theveranda of the old colonialgentleman.

‘How British are you?’demanded Pape over cognac.

‘Terribly British; always,’came the dignified responsebefore the inevitable punch- line.

‘Then lend me fifty quid,quick!’

Unfortunately, and as Papehad to report, there was ‘nobountiful British trust on theshores of Tanganyika’.

But his ingenuity was notquite exhausted. He persuad-ed both the hotel, who wouldnot let them take an item ofequipment from their room,and the garage proprietor’swife to prevail on her hus-band, to take Brun as ahuman guarantee and holdhim until payment arrived.

Pape and the Austin wereon the road again. Alone. Atlast the fates smiled on thisincredible venture. Sick withmalaria, running on a cocktailof paludrine, dexedrine andwhisky, Pape hurtled south at80 mph. He crossed NorthernRhodesia and pressed on forBulawayo. Familiar country.

Tyres were changed inPretoria for a fierce run fromJohannesburg toBloemfontain. The A90’s frontsuspension was starting tosag again but nothing couldstop her now. Not even Pape

allowing the petrol tank to rundry 59 kilometres from home.

Thus ended the fantasticstory of Richard Pape and aneven more fantastic car. Thefirst in the world to make therun from Cape Cold to CapeHot.

Reassured the headlinescould no longer read: ‘BritishSpeed Demon KillsNorwegian Child’ or ‘WriterWho Insulted “Reds” InBorder Gun Battle’; and thatSpain would not occupyGibraltar or the French causea diplomatic incident in theSahara, The Austin MotorCompany warmed to theachievement.

The pale blue Austin A90Westminster, which had risento heights that simply sidelinetoday’s ‘mega-buck’, factorymollycoddled squirmishers,did the rounds of the compa-ny’s major showrooms. Thestory, not surprisingly, was

Ihave always been fond ofthe little Austin A30. Myearliest memory of one is

on a warm summer’sSunday afternoon when Iwas about five years old.My mother had borrowedone on approval; the morespacious Morris Minoreventually won the toss andfaithfully served as hershopping car until thearrival in 1962 of a smart,brand new Mini Super.

subsequently Australia, wherehe died in 1995.

Gunnar Melle returned toNorway via the east coat ofAfrica making a film of hisjourney.

Willy Krögenes took hisbride, and as far as is knowntook no further part in motor-ing adventures.The fate of the competing

Germans is unknown but theymay have been Pape’sapparition.

covered in The AustinMagazine and dealers invitedto promote Pape’s book CapeCold to Cape Hot (OdhamsPress 1956).

It contains what we abhor asracism, prejudice and intoler-ance. Zenophobia aboundsand there are moments ofinsensitivity, arrogance andbigotry. He is unreasonable. In an ideal world none of

these traits would be accept-able. But our world is far fromideal and it is a million milesfrom that of Richard Pape. Hestill deserves a hearing, to tellhis story and that of his BritishCar; his British Austin. Thanksto men like Pape we are freeto make of it what we will.

Many would find Pape unap-pealing. Some may activelydislike him.Richard Pape wouldn’t care a

damn.

A30 ODDITIES

To this day I can still hear thegears whining away as thepoor little A30, fully loadedwith mother and kids, strug-gled to reach the top of the

Quantock Hills in Somerset,where my elder brother wasthat afternoon competing in amotor cycle scramble. I can-not remember the colour ofthe car or if it was an AS3 orearly AS4; it certainly was afour door.

During my many years in themotor trade, specializing invarious low mileage classiccars, I have had only a fewA30s, mainly because notmany have survived in thecondition I like, althoughabout five years ago I had a19,000-mile, black, 1956 twodoor; the nearest to new Ihave come across. I found it

The pictures which appearwith this instalment ofRichard Pape’s Cape to

Cape adventure, with thefirst part in the

August/September issue ofAustin Times and the car-

toon included with thisexclusive interview with

Johan Brun were taken byMr Brun, an internationallyacclaimed photographer.Most of them are unpub-lished and the editor isextremely grateful to Mr

Brun for his generosity inmaking them available to

Times readers.

A30s like this smart example may appear pretty straightforward historically.In this article, classic car expert Gary Dickens, examines how early cars differed from later production.

very difficult to bring myself topart with that one!

Recently though, I boughtand sold a charming little AS3in Balmoral blue. At firstglance the AS3 seems prettymuch identical to the later AS4but in fact is fascinatingly dif-ferent in many ways.Announced in October 1951

as the new ‘Austin Seven’ andavailable only in four doorform, production commencedin May 1952 and continueduntil October 1953 when theAS4 was introduced, nowavailable, for the first time, asa two door (A2S4) as well as afour.

Incidentally, the ‘AustinSeven’ became known as theA30 only months into the pro-duction of the AS3.

The most obvious differencebetween the AS3 and AS4 isthe dashboard. Instead of thefamiliar squarish speedometerfound in the AS4 and later theA35s, the AS3 has a circularinstrument fitted in an ovalshaped removable panel. Thelatter holds a basic range ofswitches either side of the the‘speedo’, one of which, on thevery early cars, was a

simple twist-switch markedwith an ‘I’ for Ignition – later AS3s adoptedthe more conventional remov-able key system.

There was no parcel shelfwhich, on the AS4s, carriedthe switch panel. On a furtherlook around the interior youwill notice the door panels,made of colour co-ordinated millboard, are

also different. Instead of fittingflush onto the doors they arerecessed and have a blackrubber surround.

Tilt forward the front seatson an AS3 and you see athick tubular bar running thewidth of the car. This acts asa simple and effective supportfor the rear of the front seatbases.

Even the steering wheel isdifferent! It is more chunkythan on later cars and doesn’thave a horn button but a largeplastic Austin badge, similarto the late Devon and theSomerset. On the right of thesteering column is a largestalk on the end of which sits

by GARRY DICKENS

a little horn button and a flickswitch for the lamps.

Differences on the AS3exterior are, perhaps, moresubtle. It would take a keeneye to observe that the radia-tor grille is, in fact, slightlynarrower than that fitted tothe AS4. The fuel filler is onthe right side rear wing ratherthan the rear panel, althoughthe first 1,000 or so cars had

the filler on the left rear wing.The spare wheel is housed

in the boot but at the backrather than to one side.

During the first half of AS3production the boot hingeswere inside the compartment

which allowed the lid to slideforward and the rain to run in.Very few examples with thatparticular arrangement seemto have survived.

When the boot lid hingeswere modified to the morefamiliar external type the lockhandle was changed from aremoveable ‘T’ key to a fixed

handle with standard key lock.About the first 3,000 cars

were fitted with a single, cen-trally-placed stop and tail lampsupplemented by reflectors toeach side of the car, but sub-sequently this was up-datedwith twin stop and tail lamps tocomply with new

vehicle lighting regulations.The final difference I have

noted is that the AS3 wasnever fitted with a valancepanel between the rear of thebody and the bumper.

Of course, none of theabove would make the AS3different to drive than a latercar, but to my mind theymake it more endearing,especially in a model thatlater became virtuallyunchanged throughout its pro-duction run.

HEAVY MOBThe handsome trio of vintage 12s below werecaptured at the DandenongShowground, nearMelbourne, earlier in theyear by Australian enthusi-ast Walter Thompson andgo to prove that in AustinTimes there’s just some-thing for everyone.Continue to depend on it.

AUSTIN TIMES REPRODUCTION POLICYAll the articles appearing in Austin Times are the copyrightof the author and may not be reproduced in whole or partwithout prior consent. However, the material can be madeavailable free of charge to club magazines on request, andto commercial publications by negotiation. Enquiries can

be posted to Friends of the Austin10 Avenue de la Porte de Ménilmontant, 75020 PARIS

or sent by e-mail to Martyn.Nutland@wanadoo.fr

IT’S A MYSTERYCoachbuilt Austins are verymuch a rarity, so it causedquite a stir a couple ofweeks ago when a Ten ofthat ilk turned up in France.

The style is that of drop-head coupé with an ever-so-slightly Rosengartlook to the swept tail. But at

present details of thebuilder are a mystery.The car was in store for

many years in Nantes andalthough in need of restora-tion is in sound originalcondition.Any suggestions for amodel name with a Frenchflavour?