Good evening folks. May I introduce myself?
My name’s Glen Anderson, and I’ve been involved with lorries and cars (and anything else oily) since I was a small boy. My father and uncles all drove lorries, and it was always my ambition to do the same. I passed my test back in 1990 and, after the usual shaky start due to being too young to find employment, spent many years driving in the UK and across Europe and beyond. Marriage and a change of career path have seen me turn to driving trains for a living, something I’ve been doing for the last ten years or so. Lorries, however, particularly old ones, still have a hold on me! 
I’ve documented this saga on other forums but, as we all know, part of writing up this kind of stuff is to get feedback, encouragement and support from likeminded enthusiasts, as well as simply recording it for posterity. A member on one of the other forums I visit suggested here might be a good place to post my story, and having had a brief look around it seems like he was right!
So; part one… ;D
Bit of back-story, for those who don’t already know me from elsewhere (with a bit of editing as facts have come to light over the last year)…
When I was a kid, my parents bought a small plot of land to build a house on. My dad needed somewhere dry and secure to keep his tools etc. whilst the house was being built; preferably something cheap, easily erected and disposed of once it was no longer needed. He had two mates (Jack Proctor and Jack Pilbeam) at the local BRS depot in Wincheap, Canterbury; one the workshop manager, the other the general manager I believe (happy to be corrected). One of them, according to my mum, suggested that one of the parcel vans he had been charged with scrapping might be ideal. So one was duly commandeered, the choice of which was down to the unlikely coincidence of it bearing the registration JOY, which is my sister’s name.
It did sterling service as a shed for several years, here it is in the background, with me in front on another of dad’s toys (a Thwaites dumper), circa 1972.
It wasn’t very old when it arrived with us, but I’m lead to believe they had hard and short lives. Whilst my dad never used it for work, or indeed I don’t think ever drove it other than the short distance from the depot to our home, I spent hours and hours in the driving seat of the “Noddy Lorry” and “drove” all over the world in it in my imagination.
Here’s another pic, probably from about 1976ish again with it in the background.
And this is a library pic I found on the web of one of the handful of survivors.
One day I got home from school and it was gone. My dad had passed it on to the local farmer to use for storage. I was totally gutted. :-[
A few years passed and I found myself “working” at aforesaid farm, charging around on a silencer-less motorcycle keeping the birds out of the fruit trees. The lorry was still there, albeit slowly dropping to pieces. I harboured notions of rescuing it, but without the funds, space or technical ability it was only a pipe-dream.
A few more years have since passed. Decades in fact. It has always been in the back of my mind, but space and funds have always been against me. That and the fact I knew it was likely to be very badly deteriorated. I have always fancied a classic commercial though, and like the idea of the “truck-rods” that enterprising sorts across the pond make up out of bits and bobs of old wagons.
Fast-forward to last summer and I heard that the farmer had died. As he was a contemporary of my own father, he must have been at the least in his late eighties (my dad would be 92 were he still alive today), and he was the sort never to throw anything whatever away. I also heard that his son was continuing to run the farm, but was having a bit of a tidy up, so decided I’d better get up there and see if there was anything salvageable before it all went to be turned into tin cans. So up I went and visited the farm to have a look at the remains…
Remains is the right word! Whilst the body has all gone, the chassis/engine/box/axles/front guards/steering etc. are all still there.
Chassis, which is the important bit, despite the nettles, thistles, brambles and other spiky/stingy ■■■■, looked salvageable. Spring shackle pivots still have grease on them, chassis rails appeared sound, axles, springs etc. look OK and the steering still works. The engine is locked solid though (no surprise there), and what is left looks a bit forlorn. The remains of the alloy sheets from the body are laying along side it, but 95% of the timber framework has long gone as has the fibreglass roof.
When I asked him what he wanted for it his reply was “if you want it, and you’ll do something with it rather than cut it up for scrap, you can have it”. When pressed, he added, “buy my mum some flowers”.
So, a new project hove to on the horizon.
I knew that the wood and alloy body of the Noddy van would likely be well beyond saving, so the fact that it had disappeared is actually a blessing as a parcel van wasn’t really going to be the most practical of vehicles to add to my fleet.
My master plan is to replace the current engine and gearbox (a 5.1 litre 6-cylinder diesel BMC unit and 4-speed) with a 5.9 litre ■■■■■■■ 6B and five-speed from a Leyland 45. I will likely have to scratch-build a cab and plan a bonneted “normal control” configuration, with a flat-bed rear body. Although they were known as vans, they are actually 9 tons gross, so the chassis is fairly substantial. I’m currently leaning towards the idea of buying a complete mid-90s Leyand-Daf 45 to break for it’s major components as, if I’m careful/lucky I can get something with the right engine (150 or 180 bhp), the right gearbox (a five-speeder), a flatbed rear body and maybe a HIAB as well for around the £2-2.5K mark, and be able to recoup £1K or so of that back selling off and scrapping all the bits I don’t need.
