Don Kurjata says he was eight years old when he first saw his dream car.
He was a big fan of The Rat Patrol, he says, a 1960s serial about an elite team of soldiers that harassed Nazi forces in Africa during the Second World War. Like any super-team, they had a cool car: a Ford GPW jeep.
"Ever since that day, I wanted one."
Now, more than 30 years later, he's realized that dream. A chill autumn wind sweeps through his hair as he and his sons cruise St. Albert in their restored 1945 Ford General Purpose Willys — one hand on the wheel, one on the stick. People stop, smile, honk and wave as the vintage machine rolls by, still street-worthy after 65 years.
Kurjata, a St. Albert businessman, is one of several local historians bringing restored military vehicles to this week's Remembrance Day ceremony in St. Albert. It'll be the car's first public event.
Historic hardware
The Ford GPW (and its cousin, the Willys MB) is one of the most iconic vehicles of the Second World War, according to historians, and a forerunner to many of today's modern cars.
The U.S. Army needed a small utility vehicle for its troops, Kurjata says, and asked three companies to come up with a design: American Bantam, Willys and Ford. The army liked bits of all three models, so it mashed them together and asked Willys and Ford to make the result.
Both companies initially put their logos on the backs of the jeeps, says St. Albert military historian Reg Hodgson, but the army ordered them to take them off. Henry Ford did so, but also put Ford-style Fs everywhere else. "He wanted the GIs to know they were driving a Ford-built jeep."
The result was a car with more logos than most Nascar racers. As Kurjata points out, every bolt, bumper, panel, and component in this car has either an "F" or a "Ford" on it — even the bearings in the engine. It's these symbols that distinguish the Ford model from the nearly identical (but logo-free) ones made by Willys.
Kurjata says he found this car online in 2007. Unlike most, he notes, it still has its original engine.
Made in Dallas, Tex., the car was one of roughly 600,000 made during the war, and was supposed to be shipped to Japan. The war ended before it went overseas, so it spent the next 30 years as a civilian car. Its owner eventually left it to rust under a pile of tarps in a shed. "It hadn't run since 1979."
Kurjata bought the car from the owner's nephew, who told him the engine didn't work. When he got it back to Canada, Kurjata realized the nephew had put the battery in the wrong way. He turned it around, touched the starter, and vroom! "The smile on my face was unbelievable."
Three years' work
Kurjata and his sons then spent the next three years restoring the jeep to factory condition. This meant tearing it apart — an easy task, with the army's detailed manuals — and searching the globe for parts.
It took about 1,500 hours of work, he says. "Every weekend, that's what I did." The stench of decades-old grease filled his garage. Piles of scrap crowded his yard. "My neighbours weren't certain if it was ever going to be fixed." He finally finished the car in May.
Restoring military vehicles helps keep history alive, says Sgt. Eric Petersen, head of the Lord Strathcona's Horse (Royal Canadians) Historical Vehicle Troop.
"Most of the vehicles you see are monuments. You can't go into them, and you don't know what they sound like." These restored ones help veterans show others what they experienced during war. "It's more of a tribute to them."
Kurjata says he's spent about $30,000 fixing his ride, and that it was worth every penny. "Any time I drive the thing, I've got a smile on my face a mile wide."
