At the age of 6 (not a typo!) dad put me behind the “sticks” of his big excavator, by the age of 8 he thought me how to drive the Willys jeep… and things got even more out of hand as of then.
Everything was set up for me to become a petrol head and thrill seeker from when I was a little guy.
My dad took me to historical MV meetings in his Dodge truck and later on in his Willys jeep.
He had been into these toys for a long time already, so it was only a matter of time before the same bug bit me. And boy did it bite!
When I went off to college, I took my savings and bought my first historical MV instead of renting a student room like everyone else. The 1942 BSA M20 put me through about all the possible issues one could get, sparking even more interest in keeping these things running.
When we went to get it, my uncle called me crazy for spending my money on some parts in boxes…
My mom thought I’d lost all my hard-earned money from working weekends and summers because I’d never get it running again….
Gladly both were proven wrong!
The BSA was taken to meetings all over Belgium and into Normandy, where I participated in a Guiness book of world records attempt at the 65th anniversary of the D-Day landings. It was the biggest rally of wartime commonwealth motorbikes.
Sadly I didn’t make it onto the final picture at Arromanches beach, because of bad fuel.
After college, as I was finally starting to earn some decent money, it wasn’t long before I bought my first truck. It was a 1943 GMC CCKW 353 with a wooden bed. It was in fairly good shape, so I could turn it around quite quickly to get it out onto the road. It served as transportation means for the above motorcycle all the way to Normandy and back without any troubles.
Participating in various meetings throughout Europe, my interest was drawn to a lot of different wartime machines.
As my budget wasn’t big enough to own them all at the same time, I decided to trade and sell them for others. This allowed me to gain a lot of knowledge and experience in a wide variety of MV’s, not to mention the tons of fun of getting to drive all of these special vehicles!
December 2009, an opportunity arose to be a passenger in a C-47 while it would drop parachutists over the Bastogne Mardason memorial. Conversations with these jumpers fueled my interest and by april 2010 I found myself traveling to the USA to participate in jump training with the Liberty jump team. This led to 31 jumps in 3 years of which 15 out of historical C-47 airplanes.
By 2013, money was good but work was boring me out. So a big decision was made and I enlisted as an NCO combat engineer (childhood dreams). Unfortunately this meant I wouldn’t be capable of maintaining and owning these vehicles any longer (army pay isn’t great and you’re away most of the time…)
Seen my background, it wasn’t long before I got a leading role in the heavy support platoon. It wasn’t long until they put 5 Leopard 1 carriages under my command, of which 3 armored engineering vehicles (AEV) and 2 armored bridge laying vehicles (ABLV).
We did everything from operating these machines to maintaining them and even assisting in repairs by our mechanics.
After 5+ years of service, the army decided to get rid of these magnificent machines. That, was my cue to return to civil life and pick up my real passion again.
Before I left the army, I had already bought myself a 1941 GMC CCKW 353 “early” truck for restoration.
But a chain of unforeseen events led to the acquisition of a 1942 Matchless G3L, which I quickly swapped for a 1943 GMC CCKW 353 ST-6 M12 Welding truck.
Owning 2 GMC’s at this point, both needing full restoration, I chose quality over quantity. Always wanting to restore a workshop truck and intrigued by it’s history, the early ’41 truck was sold on to focus on the welding truck.
After inheriting my (grand)dad’s workshop, investments were made in improved tooling. Increasing demand from friends to work on their vehicles and supportive colleagues helped me furthermore in deciding to start my own part-time business.
War Weasel was the name chosen during a brainstorm session with my girlfriend on a holiday trip. The black beret refers to my time in the army with the armored combat engineers. The badge on the beret is a swallow, referring to my dad’s and granddad’s nickname without whom this wouldn’t have been possible. (There used to be a lot of swallows living in my granddad’s gatehouse next door.)