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W.D. Motor Cycles May be" Invalided Out," but They do not "Simply Fade Away": In this Article "Talmage" Describes How the Mechanical Casualties are Reborn in One of the Auxiliary Workshops Which Various Motor Cycle Firms Run on Behalf of the Ministry of Supply

CONDITIONS can be dangerous for the D.R. They are doubly dangerous for the D.R.'s machine; it runs the same risks as its rider risks which he must take in certain circumstances and which, in normal times, would be considered suicidal. In addition, there are occasions when treatment of the machine is, perforce, callous in the extreme.

Casualties to machines are not confined to battle areas. In training manœuvres, for example, conditions must approximate as nearly as possible to those of actual battle. Let anyone who doubts the danger try riding a motor cycle two or three nights in succession without lights across give-and-take country which is infested with other vehicles - all without lights - ranging from motor cycles to tanks. This is to say nothing of countless stationary obstructions, natural and manufactured. Great skill and sometimes luck are required to avoid writing off the model.

The outcome is that a proportion of the Army's huge number of motor cycles become bashed in various ways. What happens to these mechanical casualties?

A special department of the Ministry of Supply known as "T.T.3" has depots all over the country where the work of resuscitating written-off transport, mainly military, goes on apace. Recently I visited one such works built up, organised and run by the men behind Marble Arch Motor Supplies. W.D. motor cycles only are dealt with, mainly B.S.A., Matchless and Royal Enfield. On the intake side, wrecked machines are received from the output end, virtually new Army motor cycles emerge.

Let us take a look at the reception bay first. What a “Tishy" collection! Bent forks, broken frames, buckled wheels, dented tanks, battered head lamps and mudguards, tattered tool-boxes and haphazard handlebars. These are the obvious features. Closer inspection shows that in some cases. engines and gear boxes have suffered.

Well, we might have known what to expect from the salvage heap of battered exhaust pipes we passed outside. All the same, this place gives one the willies; let us move to the next bay.

On each side of it are rows of outsize paraffin baths, about 6ft. square. As each wreck is wheeled or dragged in it is first part-dismantled; then the engines and gear boxes pass down one side of the bay and the remainder of each machine down the other. All oil has already been drained off for salvage. Further dismantling takes place in the various washing stages. The parts of each engine are all placed in a box, gearboxes are similarly treated. On the other side of the bay, as the washing proceeds, the wheels are taken off, tanks and other items removed, but the frame and front forks are not taken apart at this stage; they are passed on to the frame and fork shop for examination by experts. The washing down and most of the dismantling is done by women under supervision. Incidentally, the paraffin is drained from the tanks at frequent intervals and filtered; in this way it is used over and over again. 

In the frame and fork shop every frame and every pair of forks and handlebars is jig-tested for alignment, and any necessary corrective measures taken. New fork spindle bushes (where used) and new steering head races and balls are fitted in every case: not a single chance is taken.

Pulling Out the Dents

Petrol tanks also receive attention in this shop. Dents are pulled out as far as practicable, then filled with hard solder to the original contour. Women do this work. A common trouble is stripped threads in the tank bolt holes; in such cases suitable steel plates are drilled, tapped and welded on. 

Wheels and brakes have a shop of their own where, again, nothing is left to chance. Every wheel, no matter how good it may appear to be, is tested for truth. Every brake has new linings, which are already fitted and ground to correct contour on shoes (removed from earlier arrivals) which have been cleaned and minutely examined for freedom from defect. Hub bearings are rigidly inspected and replacements fitted where necessary. Dented or buckled rims are automatically scrapped, but in most cases the hub can be used again. Conversely, though the rim and spokes may be in perfect order, the condition of the brake drum may necessitate putting the hub out for the salvage collector; thus a sound wheel can sometimes be built from two damaged wheels.

As I passed into the engine and gear box shop I involuntarily glanced at the door to see whether it was labelled Snake House, such were the hissing noises emanating from within. The "snakes" consist of pipes conveying the high-pressure air system to every bench. Parts receiving the attention of a file, grinder or scraper do not have the dust or swarf wiped off with rag but are blown clean with an air-pressure of some 150lb, per sq. in. a quicker and surer method. This high-pressure air system is a feature of every shop, and it has many applications. For example, in the engine shop every oil pipe and oil drillway is blown through, whether it needs it or not, just to make sure there is no obstruction.

 Stripped Down for Inspection

The motto "Leave nothing to chance" prevails everywhere. Parts are carefully inspected for the smallest defect which may have developed. If cylinder-bore wear exceeds a certain limit, the barrel is re-bored. Flywheel assemblies are tested for alignment between centres whether there has been occasion to separate the wheels or not, and they do not pass muster until true to within half a thou on the axles. Every carburettor is stripped right down and checked; I watched one girl running a reamer down a mixing chamber which had distorted to an extent that prevented a new throttle slide being fitted.

Gear boxes receive the same careful attention as the engines. Everything is stripped right down for inspection of each part, and replacements are fitted as necessary. Clutches are treated in the same way as brakes; reconditioned clutch plates with new inserts are fitted in every case. A clever little machine faces off the new inserts after they have been pressed in; it consists basically of an emery band driven at high speed over a surface plate by an electric motor.

In all this work women predominate. Many of them display remarkable skill; they perform not merely straightforward jobs of dismantling and assembly, but are on repair work, too; they know when a part must be thrown out and when it can be saved. In all departments, of course, expert guidance is constantly on tap should any special problems arise.

Engines emerge from the engine shop with Magdyno and carburettor already fitted, complete with their respective control cables. Gear boxes are also built up complete. From the frame shop come frame and forks with the wheels installed.

These units, together with all the other items, meet at the final assembly shop, which is a most extraordinary place - extraordinary not on account of its layout, which is normal, but because it is permeated with an atmosphere of unbounded enthusiasm and concentrated zest for the work of assembly; the reason is at once apparent. 

The shop is manned by lads of sixteen and seventeen, and, though the work is largely of a repetition nature, they treat every model as though it were being prepared to win a T.T. Each lad has a motor cycle bench, and he sees the job through to the end. He has to install engine and gear box, fit and adjust the transmission, connect up the oil leads (on machines where these are external), fit the head lamp, wire up, fit the tank and petrol pipes, connect and adjust all the controls. His interest and concentration are such that he works almost in silence. He leaves the job only when the canteen blower reminds him that a youthful appetite is claiming attention.

 Orders to the Beauty Chorus

There is no having to go to the stores for that new washer for the primary chain case and all the other odds and ends he requires. The stores come round to him, as indeed they go round to all the shops. Every twenty minutes or so the stores’ beauty chorus goes on tour to receive orders and distribute parts. It soon teaches the lad to think of all the things he will want before the next visit. If, on being brought an exhaust pipe with the necessary attachment nuts and bolts, he wants the girl to slip back for the washers, which he forgot, he is likely to become the recipient of suitably caustic comment meaning, in effect, "What about my poor feet?”

The lad's job does not end with the building of the machine. When the assembly is complete he checks that everything is tight, every nipple free and greased, all controls correct adjusted, the wheels in alignment and running freely, and much, much more; every item is ticked off one printed list.

Here’s a lad who has ticked off as many items as is practicable with the machine on the bench. He wheels the model into the yard, takes on oil (to the correct level) and petrol, turns on the petrol tap and checks the carburettor for absence of leaks. Now he starts the engine and checks oil circulation, dynamo output, bulbs, switch positions, horn, carburettor controls, and, with, the engine warm, the pilot air screw can be adjusted in conjunction with the throttle stop. Our young friend's big moment is at hand. Without more ado he rides the machine round the yard; in doing so he verifies that the clutch frees fully, that the gears all select as intended by the makers, that the brakes are worthy of the name. When he is satisfied that every tick he has put on the list is, in fact, indicative of apple-pie order, he hands over the machine and the list to the examiner.

 No Fairy Stories

The examiner is a man who does not believe in fairy stories. For him only facts are facts, and the only facts are those he can see with his eyes and feel with his hands. He proceeds to check back on to the same list, over 100 items in all. If anything is wrong, the youthful assembler will have to do the job again.

Satisfied, the examiner signs the sheet and hands it and the model to the tester, whose life-work consists of trying to find something which both the examiner and assembler have missed. In this way there is a triple check.

It is a matter of pride and honour with the young enthusiasts of the assembly shop that the very existence of an examiner and tester shall be redundant as far as they are concerned.

Let's have a word with the lad who has just handed over his machine. He is Ronald Arnold (and I wonder, incidentally, if he realises the distinction of those names, in that each is an anagram of the other). "How old are you?" I ask. 

"Seventeen."

"How long have you been on this assembly work?" I continued. 

"About six months."

"What did you do before that?"

"I was in the engine and gear box shop. I've been with the firm for 14 months."

And I suppose the first thing you will do after the war is buy a machine of your own?" 

“I've already bought it."

I laughed. “The devil you have! How long ago, and what is it?”

"A Model 18 Norton, about 1935, I bought it three months

ago. I haven't been able to take it on the road, of course, but the engine runs all right." 

"So all you are waiting for now…”

Ronald took the words out of my mouth; he said, "All I am waiting for is peace and petrol.”

The tester rides into the yard; no complaints, another machine passed; he signs the sheet. The model is then khaki sprayed by a girl, ridden round the houses by a Ministry of Supply official, given its W.D. number (a couple of passes with a white-paint brush over paper stencils stuck on the tank enable the girl to do this in less than a minute), and is parked with the growing batch waiting despatch to a V.R.D. for W.D. test. 

"If it's not a secret, what is your production figure?" I asked the General Manager, who, with the Works Manager (himself a D.R. of the last war), had devoted a big portion of the afternoon to showing me everything and answering endless questions. 

“The average is 53 machines a week, and it is still growing”, was the reply. 

Think of it! Over 50 good-as-new machines a week produced mainly from write-offs. A wonderful achievement.

I have emphasised the big part played by women in this scheme; their contribution is, perhaps, the biggest achievement of all. One expects a youth to be keen on motor cycles, and the average man to be of a mechanical turn of mind, but women's natural bent is generally held to be towards houses, home, and did someone say clothes? Eighteen months ago most of these women had never thought to be anything other than housewives. Now, if you ask one of the stores girls for a big-end bush for a Royal Enfield, she not only lays her hand on the part immediately, but can tell you its function. In the various shops there are women who are now virtually skilled mechanics and fitters. 

One of them recalled with a laugh an occasion just before the war. Her brother, who “had no conversation but motor cycles," was telling her a long rigmarole to which she was listening with less than half an ear, because she understood none of it, until he suddenly mentioned that he had "put in all new bushes.”

"Why, George," she said brightly, "I didn't know you were interested in the garden at all!"

"WHAT is claimed to be the largest vehicle-repair organization which has ever existed in this country, as arranged in connection with civilian workshops, and in which all the staff, with the exception of a few trainees, are civilians, is that operated by the T.T.3 Repairs’ branches of the Ministry of Supply, manned by an enthusiastic staff, the majority of whom having been engaged in the motor industry prior to joining the Ministry.

Development really began with the repair of impressed vehicles evacuated from the British Expeditionary Force in France and carried out by motor-repair concerns in the vicinity of the ports of arrival. Motor traders met the ships and towed away the vehicles. At that time there was but little attempt at specialization, and a very large number of concerns was engaged on this work, each having a small number of vehicles to repair.

Following the evacuation of our Forces from France, T.T.3 undertook a certain proportion of the heavy repairs to vehicles in possession of the Home Forces, and this work was distributed through out the British Isle's, many hundreds of garages being employed. In addition to impressed vehicles, normal W.D. contract type machines were included in the repair scheme, spare parts for these being drawn from Army depots, whilst the work was supervised by the Ministry's technical assistants, operating from district offices.

The greatest difficulty found in this scheme was the delivery of spare parts to such a large number of contractors, whilst adequate supervision necessarily involved high overhead costs. Owing to the numbers engaged, no individual contractor was able to obtain a steady and adequate inflow of vehicles, and it appears that, in some cases, particular garages regarding which inquiries were being made as to what they were engaged upon, proudly displayed one or two Army vehicles, which, owing to the difficulties then existing, were more or less "rooted to the spot" for a considerable period.

The next step was the formation of larger and fewer repair shops, known as Army Auxiliary Workshops, which could operate on from 50 to 200 vehicles at a time, instead of merely some three or four. This revision permitted the Ministry to post at each of the workshops a resident T.T.3 workshop inspector. This better supervision and the reduction of the spread-over resulted in an enormous increase in output. At the same time, these workshops continued to take in any make of vehicle.

Army Auxiliary Workshops are closely linked with the military organization and have a function similar to Army workshops to perform, except that they specialize in the heavy repair of mechanical transport and light armoured fighting vehicles. They are organized on an Army Command basis, and a senior resident representative of T.T.3 known as the Command Superintendent is in liaison with each Command Headquarters.

A further step was the development of some of the existing Army Auxiliary Workshops into specialist shops, each dealing with only one make of vehicle. Most of these shops belonged to peace-time distributors of, or dealers in, the make concerned; in fact, in certain instances, makers' own service depots are employed. These shops have a direct supply of Spares from the manufacturers, and use is thus made of the liaison which has grown up during many years amongst maker and their agents. Therefore, in the supply of such parts, two sides of the triangle were cut out. Incidentally, the manufacturers were asked to co-operate as in pre-war days, and send out their regional representatives to assist the people engaged on this work, both in respect of technical advice and supplies of spares. 

Obviously, there was a considerable saving in time and expense, by reduction in transport as well as in labour, for parts did not have to be put into bins in an Army dept, and, later, be withdrawn for dispatch the workshops. The Specialist Army Auxiliary Workshops were able to place normal monthly stock orders with makers for the majority of parts, as in former times, and under a procedure which was well known to them."

(source: https://archive.commercialmotor.com/article/30th-april-1943/26/largest-civilian-operk-vehicle-repair-system)