Photo courtesy WDR.de.
Had it not been for an ID
plate that had remained with the bus – and a Volkswagen enthusiast with
an eye for rare Wolfsburg tin – then a rare 1951 VW Microbus Deluxe left
sitting in a German field for more than 50 years might well have become
so much scrapyard fodder. Instead, it’s now destined for a 10-year
restoration.
According to that ID plate, which current owner
Florian Kalff of Bonn, Germany, ran by Volkswagen’s archives before
buying the dual pickup loads’ worth of rusted metal, the 23-window
Microbus – aka “Samba” – not only dates to 1951, the first year of
production, it also dates to one of the first days of production.
Reportedly, the Volkswagen archives only list one earlier chassis number
for a Samba, which has since gone missing.
Introduced in April
1951 at the Frankfurt Motor Show, the Microbus Deluxe featured windows
up and down its length, including at each rear corner, along with
windows cut into the sides of the roof and a sunroof that exposed all
six rear passengers to the sky. More chrome trim adorned the Samba than
any other Microbus (“a magpie’s nest of brightwork,” as author Richard
Copping put it in his “VW Bus: Forty Years of Splitties, Bays, and Wedges“),
and it featured a full-width dashboard that lesser Microbuses didn’t.
Its superior visibility made it a favorite of sightseeing companies, and
its deluxe trim bumped the pricetag a good 40 percent.
Kalff’s
Samba has a rather murky history. Records show that it went to
Fleischhauer – a dealer in Köln – as a demonstrator, and the lack of a
TÜV sticker on the license plate suggests it came off the road sometime
before 1961. How or why it ended up in a field in the Eifel mountains of
Germany remains a mystery. Kalff, a Volkswagen restoration parts
dealer, has a theory, however. As he told Bonn’s
General-Anzeiger,
Sambas built before August 1960 made do with the Beetle’s 24.5-hp
engine and thus became obsolete when Volkswagen introduced the 34-hp
engine and synchronized transmission in the Microbus; it wasn’t uncommon
for owners of the older Sambas to abandon their wagons.
The
Samba had laid in the field for so long, the field’s previous owner
claimed not to have known of its existence. Only when the new owner of
the field began to clear it did the Samba – well, enough of it to
identify it as a Samba, anyway – resurface. The new owner happened to
know a customer of Kalff’s, and Kalff claims to have bought the Samba’s
remains, which included the drivetrain, the aforementioned ID plate, and
even one of the plexiglass rear corner windows, for a four-figure sum.
Kalff
has since carted the remains to his shop about 30 miles away and
started planning the Samba’s restoration, which he said will require at
least 10 years and another six figures; a British coachbuilder has been
conscripted to replicate the missing parts of the body and incorporate
as much of the existing body as possible. The result of the restoration,
he told the
General-Anzeiger, should document the Samba’s history rather than sparkle and shine.
Progress on the restoration will be
posted to Kalff’s website.