D-day for DS!
The big Citroën rides again for the first time since 1983
‘Is that really my car?’ asked Brian Shickell. Emerging from his home and spotting the gleaming Citroën in his drive, the pensioner took a few steps back and rested on his garden wall. For a short while, he appeared unable to comprehend it. Giving me a quizzical look, he asked again before bursting into a beaming smile. THAT was the moment I’d been looking forward to. Six months earlier, Brian had watched his broken old car being manouvred onto a trailer from the garage where it had sat for 35 years gathering dust and now here it was: the Citroën he’d bought new in 1971 was parked once again outside his home. Only this time, it was gleaming like new.
As the pair of us watched the wreck being taken away back in November 2016, I had promised Brian the first journey his old car would make after passing an MOT would be to see him. Despite preparing the Citroën for restoration in the Eighties, he had simply run out of steam so to see it finally finished in the hands of a new and enthusiastic owner was a relief to a man recently dubbed by the Citroën Car Club as ‘an accidental hero – the Citroën lover nobody knew about.’
In the weeks leading up to the main event, the car was on the ramp of the Bourne Citroën Centre in Lincolnshire, where manager Barry Annells and son Pete ensured every piece of the jigsaw fell into place perfectly. I had decided to spare Our Tomkins and the Practical Classics workshop the trauma of a project DS. A big Citroën isn’t for the uninitiated. Those complex hydraulics may be its greatest strength but a poorly maintained system can be its greatest weakness and of course corrosion along the sills, the boot and a dozen other cruical crevices require specialist know-how. I wanted to learn from these Citro-experts while seeing this particularly special example back on the road with minimal head-scratching (and tears).
Forward thinking
Fortunately, former owner Brian had already futureproofed his car in 1983 by repairing surface corrosion and rust-proofing extensively so for Annell’s paint guru John Griffiths, body repairs were fairly minimal. Underneath, new suspension spheres were replaced in mere minutes along with the pressure regulator and main accumulator sphere, (which stores reserve hydraulic pressure to the system). The hydraulic
lines and hoses – the arteries of the system – all looked to be in excellent order and only a leaky brake valve boot let the side down. The inboard disc brakes were of no concern: They were as new as on the day Brian replaced them in the Eighties. I enquired about items such as ball joints and wheel bearings. ‘I’ve never had to change a DS wheel bearing in my life’ said Barry. ‘Like a lot of other items, they’re over-engineered. They’re huge and outlast the rest of the car!’
My kitchen had been full of interior since December so having spent time carefully cleaning the seats, I was at last able to throw them into my £250 Citroën C5 estate (a car I bought specifically for the purpose of lugging parts around) along with the tyres and numerous other components – driving them all back to the workshop where they were ready for installation. Once the simple door panels of this basespecification D were refitted, lots of grunting and swearing from Pete and myself resulted in the fixing of the (original!) rubber seals that fit to the frameless doors.
Spring had sprung and we were more than surprised to see the finish line. I know dedicated Citroën enthusiasts who have been struggling away with their DS projects for years. Not a day goes by when I don’t feel extremely lucky! Also mindful of the Practical Classics Restoration Show at the end of March, I imagined how nice it would be to showcase it there – perhaps even with Brian standing alongside it. We set a date for the MOT – two days before the show and
spent an evening fine tuning. We were all confident. A worrying bout of ‘rod-knock’ as darkness fell was therefore extremely unwelcome. Our hearts sank.
Off came the head and a bent pushrod was soon revealed. The intake valve was clearly stuck to the valve guide. Oops. The kettle was boiled and we decided not to analyse things too deeply... our priority now lay in the location of the parts required and whether we’d obtain them in time to get the car to the NEC. We didn’t have time to wait for Mr Postman, so I leapt into the nearest available car – my Citroën CX – and drove from Lincolnshire to Surrey. Annoyingly, having successfully obtained the new DS parts, the CX and I returned courtesy of a breakdown truck.
Night moves
Ignoring the huffing CX, we worked into darkness, eventually finishing at just after 2am. That night, Barry slept in an office chair, Pete kipped in his van and attempting to make it the 20 miles home in a spare car, I wearily gave up and pulled into a layby and went to sleep. We reconvened at 7am and by 8.30am, the D Special had obtained its first MOT since August 1982. No advisories, naturally. It appeared I had ended up with possibly one of the most original examples in the UK: a near perfect, one-owner, right hand drive Citroën D-series. And brought back to life by one of the UK’S most experienced Citroën specialists. I felt a sudden responsibility – this was a precious car. With some trepidation, I set off for the NEC – via Brian’s house (around the corner from my own, in the nearby town of Oundle). The car hadn’t been on the road for many decades but extraordinarily, it got me the 20 miles without a splutter. I had only one passenger for the journey – a resplendant Red Admiral, which sat on the dash-top until I pulled into Brian’s drive. I opened the door, the butterfly danced away on the breeze and the man of the hour appeared at his door. An elderly woman with a dog walked past. ‘I remember that car driving around here’ she said. ‘It’s nice to see it back.’
I still struggle to grasp the sheer fluke of it all. I’d spotted it through an open garage door while on the way to the pub with my mate. The car is magnificent, I loved working with Barry, Pete and John at their workshop and I have enjoyed writing the story of this incredible machine and taking it to the NEC, where I had some terrific chats with many an admiring visitor. But above all, the biggest reward came on the morning I drove the car back to Bellamy Road: Brian’s grin. It doesn’t matter what vehicle you’re into. A moment like that epitomises the very reason we love cars.