My A40 has been hiding a secret for over 60 years
Posted: 20 Jun 2024 18:21
Hi all! I've been away from the forum for many months due to poor health, but in that time I've been doing some "amateur archaeology" when I've been able, in particular about my beloved A40, Valentina.
You might be aware that the British Motor Museum holds the enormous archives of the British Motor Industry Heritage Trust, and can provide a heritage certificate for most mass-market British cars built between the 1940s-1980s. The certificates include information from factory records and can provide details that are otherwise almost impossible to find out, such as the build date of a car and the dealership it was shipped to after leaving the factory. That last bit of info was what led me to order a heritage certificate - I was intrigued to find out which dealership sold Val back in 1960, whether it still existed, if I could visit the site, or perhaps even find out that they're still in business selling Skodas or Toyotas or what have you. I knew she was first registered in Birmingham, which inherently appeals to me since I'm from the Black Country, but I was was fascinated to find out more.
But when the certificate arrived, I was baffled by what the archives had uncovered. I'd always assumed Val was just a regular, everyday example, as average among A40s as it's possible to be. Instead, under the header of "Destination (dealer)" was something completely unexpected: "Works Car". Huh? I go to as many car shows as I can, and have seen countless heritage certificates issued by the British Motor Museum. I'd never seen one with the words "works car" before.
So, having no idea what that meant, and being a child of the 21st century, I scoured the internet for information. I came across various cars, various models by various manufacturers, all built as "works cars" for different reasons: cars used by factory racing teams, prototypes, test models. I came across the story of the famous Longbridge Tunnels Mini used as a transport by employees to get to different parts of the Longbridge factory. The many failed styling experiments that went nowhere and their results disposed of. Even cars that were used in publicity films to demonstrate a given model's safety by destroying it in a simulated accident.
But none of those answered my questions: "Who were you, Val? Why were you built? What were you used for?" I was certain she wasn't built for BMC's factory racing team - there would be photos if she was. Likewise it made no sense for her to have been a prototype - she was built more than a year and a half after the launch of the Mk1 A40, and over a year before the launch of the Mk2. And after talking to a few history buffs, I was able to rule out several more options: she definitely hadn't been built as a factory runabout (A40s weren't used for that), a company car (BMC never registered company cars as works cars), a press car (ditto), or as a gift to one of the higher-ups or a political bigwig (ditto again). All I could ascertain for sure was that the "works" in question was Longbridge itself - given it was the headquarters of Austin, and that Val's original registration of 138 BOJ was a Birmingham registration, that much was certain even if nothing else was.
Then I had the "exasperated sigh" moment. I realised I'd overlooked one crucial detail that had been staring me in the face ever since the certificate arrived. One of the details provided by a certificate is the specification of any given car - the exact model, any extras chosen by the customer, the colour scheme, things like that. It turned out Val left the production line at Longbridge with a Black exterior and Horizon Blue interior. A colour scheme which was never made available to customers, either on the Mk1 or Mk2, in the UK or overseas. I wracked my brains trying to recall seeing that colour combination on an A40 before, but I realised I definitely hadn't. In addition to that, the section marked "details of equipment" had been left blank in the factory records, which was another clue, given even base models with no optional extras will usually have something like "base" recorded, let alone the fact that Val had several optional components which looked professionally installed. Another detail that caught my eye is that due to the way production output was recorded at Longbridge, it's very rare for a certificate to be able to provide an exact build date - it'll be something like "20-22 June". Mine was exact: 18th May 1960. I started wondering if all this had just been an error on the part of the museum.
So I sent an email back to the British Motor Museum, asking if they could double check the archives to make sure the information for a different car hadn't been accidentally transcribed from their records. They did so, and confirmed that the information on the certificate was correctly transcribed from the factory records, that the car in their archives matched Val's original registration and chassis number. With that lingering question answered, I turned to another oddity: in the "other numbers" section of the certificate, was something I'd never seen the likes of on a heritage certificate before, namely "invoice number 74673". If I could find that invoice, perhaps it would solve the entire mystery. Unfortunately, my enquiries to the museum turned up no answer on that front. They had no further records in their archives that were relevant, and as far as they knew, everything in the archives pertaining to my car was included on the certificate. The invoice referring to Val had probably been destroyed decades ago. And so I hit a brick wall in my lines of enquiry.
But nevertheless, after all the searching I'd done, having learned far more than I ever thought I'd know about the way BMC recorded information, the research and experimentation they did behind the scenes, and how ongoing development of models was undertaken there, I had a strong suspicion about what the Longbridge works had used Val for: that she was built as a one-off example in a Black/Horizon Blue colour scheme in order to gauge public reaction and see if there was enough interest to bring it to market. I approached the head of the museum's archives, and several historians of Longbridge and BMC, with my thoughts.
After a few days and a few conversations, I finally had a conclusion to the mystery of Val's origins, at least for now: although it might never be possible to 100% confirm due to the sheer amount of BMC's paper records that have been lost or destroyed, it's as-good-as-certain that my unassuming little A40 was indeed ordered as a one-off test car by the Longbridge Experimental Department, primarily to evaluate the aforementioned colour scheme. BMC quietly did this with their other models, as did most car makers, and Val's surviving records all but confirm she was built for this purpose.
After that public evaluation concluded and BMC decided not put it into production, Val was retained by Longbridge for a time and likely was used by apprentices to practice their skills, which is the most probable source of her various non-official components. Following that, she was eventually sold on or given to a member of the Longbridge workforce, and this history was lost... at least until the British Motor Museum trawled through their archives and set in motion an unexpected investigation into the origins of an A40 which, against the odds, seems to be a unique survivor.
I should stress that a lot of this isn't 100% confirmed, because it can't be. Too many of BMC's records are lost forever, and it's highly unlikely that I'll ever hold a document in my hands which can answer without a doubt why Val was ordered by Longbridge and the exact reasons they retained her as a works car. But the concensus among those I spoke to was that that her being a one-off test is almost certainly the case. Regardless, my search continues, and I hope that one day in the future I'll be able to record her story in full, as every classic car deserves.
(and apologies for such a long post, I'm still quite shocked by all this!)
You might be aware that the British Motor Museum holds the enormous archives of the British Motor Industry Heritage Trust, and can provide a heritage certificate for most mass-market British cars built between the 1940s-1980s. The certificates include information from factory records and can provide details that are otherwise almost impossible to find out, such as the build date of a car and the dealership it was shipped to after leaving the factory. That last bit of info was what led me to order a heritage certificate - I was intrigued to find out which dealership sold Val back in 1960, whether it still existed, if I could visit the site, or perhaps even find out that they're still in business selling Skodas or Toyotas or what have you. I knew she was first registered in Birmingham, which inherently appeals to me since I'm from the Black Country, but I was was fascinated to find out more.
But when the certificate arrived, I was baffled by what the archives had uncovered. I'd always assumed Val was just a regular, everyday example, as average among A40s as it's possible to be. Instead, under the header of "Destination (dealer)" was something completely unexpected: "Works Car". Huh? I go to as many car shows as I can, and have seen countless heritage certificates issued by the British Motor Museum. I'd never seen one with the words "works car" before.
So, having no idea what that meant, and being a child of the 21st century, I scoured the internet for information. I came across various cars, various models by various manufacturers, all built as "works cars" for different reasons: cars used by factory racing teams, prototypes, test models. I came across the story of the famous Longbridge Tunnels Mini used as a transport by employees to get to different parts of the Longbridge factory. The many failed styling experiments that went nowhere and their results disposed of. Even cars that were used in publicity films to demonstrate a given model's safety by destroying it in a simulated accident.
But none of those answered my questions: "Who were you, Val? Why were you built? What were you used for?" I was certain she wasn't built for BMC's factory racing team - there would be photos if she was. Likewise it made no sense for her to have been a prototype - she was built more than a year and a half after the launch of the Mk1 A40, and over a year before the launch of the Mk2. And after talking to a few history buffs, I was able to rule out several more options: she definitely hadn't been built as a factory runabout (A40s weren't used for that), a company car (BMC never registered company cars as works cars), a press car (ditto), or as a gift to one of the higher-ups or a political bigwig (ditto again). All I could ascertain for sure was that the "works" in question was Longbridge itself - given it was the headquarters of Austin, and that Val's original registration of 138 BOJ was a Birmingham registration, that much was certain even if nothing else was.
Then I had the "exasperated sigh" moment. I realised I'd overlooked one crucial detail that had been staring me in the face ever since the certificate arrived. One of the details provided by a certificate is the specification of any given car - the exact model, any extras chosen by the customer, the colour scheme, things like that. It turned out Val left the production line at Longbridge with a Black exterior and Horizon Blue interior. A colour scheme which was never made available to customers, either on the Mk1 or Mk2, in the UK or overseas. I wracked my brains trying to recall seeing that colour combination on an A40 before, but I realised I definitely hadn't. In addition to that, the section marked "details of equipment" had been left blank in the factory records, which was another clue, given even base models with no optional extras will usually have something like "base" recorded, let alone the fact that Val had several optional components which looked professionally installed. Another detail that caught my eye is that due to the way production output was recorded at Longbridge, it's very rare for a certificate to be able to provide an exact build date - it'll be something like "20-22 June". Mine was exact: 18th May 1960. I started wondering if all this had just been an error on the part of the museum.
So I sent an email back to the British Motor Museum, asking if they could double check the archives to make sure the information for a different car hadn't been accidentally transcribed from their records. They did so, and confirmed that the information on the certificate was correctly transcribed from the factory records, that the car in their archives matched Val's original registration and chassis number. With that lingering question answered, I turned to another oddity: in the "other numbers" section of the certificate, was something I'd never seen the likes of on a heritage certificate before, namely "invoice number 74673". If I could find that invoice, perhaps it would solve the entire mystery. Unfortunately, my enquiries to the museum turned up no answer on that front. They had no further records in their archives that were relevant, and as far as they knew, everything in the archives pertaining to my car was included on the certificate. The invoice referring to Val had probably been destroyed decades ago. And so I hit a brick wall in my lines of enquiry.
But nevertheless, after all the searching I'd done, having learned far more than I ever thought I'd know about the way BMC recorded information, the research and experimentation they did behind the scenes, and how ongoing development of models was undertaken there, I had a strong suspicion about what the Longbridge works had used Val for: that she was built as a one-off example in a Black/Horizon Blue colour scheme in order to gauge public reaction and see if there was enough interest to bring it to market. I approached the head of the museum's archives, and several historians of Longbridge and BMC, with my thoughts.
After a few days and a few conversations, I finally had a conclusion to the mystery of Val's origins, at least for now: although it might never be possible to 100% confirm due to the sheer amount of BMC's paper records that have been lost or destroyed, it's as-good-as-certain that my unassuming little A40 was indeed ordered as a one-off test car by the Longbridge Experimental Department, primarily to evaluate the aforementioned colour scheme. BMC quietly did this with their other models, as did most car makers, and Val's surviving records all but confirm she was built for this purpose.
After that public evaluation concluded and BMC decided not put it into production, Val was retained by Longbridge for a time and likely was used by apprentices to practice their skills, which is the most probable source of her various non-official components. Following that, she was eventually sold on or given to a member of the Longbridge workforce, and this history was lost... at least until the British Motor Museum trawled through their archives and set in motion an unexpected investigation into the origins of an A40 which, against the odds, seems to be a unique survivor.
I should stress that a lot of this isn't 100% confirmed, because it can't be. Too many of BMC's records are lost forever, and it's highly unlikely that I'll ever hold a document in my hands which can answer without a doubt why Val was ordered by Longbridge and the exact reasons they retained her as a works car. But the concensus among those I spoke to was that that her being a one-off test is almost certainly the case. Regardless, my search continues, and I hope that one day in the future I'll be able to record her story in full, as every classic car deserves.
(and apologies for such a long post, I'm still quite shocked by all this!)
. Incredible 
) habit of collecting as much A40 documentation and promotional material as I can find. My collection includes a colour options pamphlet which I believe dates to 1960: