MORRIS J TYPE VAN

MORRIS J TYPE VAN

I've long been a fan of the Morris J type Van. It was launched as a Morris Commercial in 1949 and continued in production until 1961. It boasted (!) a 1476cc four cylinder engine driving through a three-speed gearbox.

It was available in several variations:

minibus

Pick-up

Ice-cream van

I like them so much that I have featured two different vehicles in my book, BLOOD ON THE SHRINE, available from Amazon in kindle for only £1.99. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Blood-Shrine-Chris-ODonoghue-ebook/dp/B07DK8YMKC/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1540825815&sr=1-1&keywords=blood+on+the+shrine

Here is an extract featuring the van used by the baddies!

Bates put the van into gear, and was just driving towards the gate when he stopped. ‘Hang on, there’s something wrong.’

‘What do you mean?’ There was panic in Atkins’s voice.

‘I think we’ve got a flat tyre.’

‘Bloody hell! Is that all? Christ! I thought something terrible had happened. Come on, let’s have a look.’ Sure enough the nearside rear wheel was down on its rim.

Sammy and Baker had to get out of the back again and the mailbags needed to be heaped to one side so they could get at the spare wheel. Bates got the jack and cursed as it would not fit under the sill because of the extra weight. So they had to take the mailbags out and pile them on the drive. Then, when the van was jacked up, he found the nuts were corroded on to the wheel and he couldn’t shift them. ‘For crying out loud!’ Atkins exclaimed. ‘Are we ever going to get away?’

Bates was flustered and breathing heavily. ‘I need a lever. A bit of pipe would do.’

‘For Christ’s sake! Go and find something.’ Bates went off with a torch while the others stood around, smoking. Finally, he came back with a length of galvanised gas pipe that he had found in the barn. He fitted it over the end of the wheel brace and using his considerable weight on lever, the first nut suddenly came free, and he tumbled to the ground.

Atkins could not suppress a laugh. ‘Come on Butch. Quit clowning around. We’ve got to get off.’

Bates stood up, a hurt look on his fleshy face. ‘I ain’t clowning around,’ he said indignantly.’

‘Sorry, mate. It was just funny, that’s all.’

Bates harrumphed and finished undoing the other nuts. The wheel came off easily and the spare was soon in place. Bates retightened the nuts then lowered the jack. ‘Oh, no,’ he said miserably.

‘What’s the matter now?’ Atkins snapped.

‘You won’t believe it - the spare’s flat.’

‘Jesus! I thought this was your pride and joy. Don’t you look after it?’

‘Course I do. It’s just one of them things.’

‘What do we do now?’ Sammy asked.

‘We’ll have to pump it up – see if it holds air,’ Bates said.

‘I suppose you have got a foot pump?’ Atkins asked.

‘I think so. Give me the torch and I’ll have a look.’ Bates rummaged around in the back of the van for what seemed like an age but was actually only a couple of minutes and finally emerged triumphant. Even so, it was not a great pump and even with them taking it in turns, it was nearly 10 minutes before the tyre had enough air in it.

‘Hoo-ray,’ Atkins exclaimed. ‘Right. Let’s get the van repacked and get this bloody show on the road. I’m starting to get nervous now.’