Humphrey the Hummer

My GI-surplus Humvee, Humphrey, reliably turns heads in traffic.

I had my own Humvee in the desert. As the Aviation liaison officer, I moved about constantly from one command to another coordinating air support. That bought me my own vehicle.

We were all just souped-up teenagers. I was once tearing across the desert wastes and launched the long-suffering vehicle completely airborne off a convenient dune. The truck crashed down on its left front wheel, blowing the tire out like a bomb. Fortunately for me, the engineers at AM General had anticipated such foolishness and equipped their vehicles with run-flat tires. I limped back to the nearest maintenance facility, hallucinated some excuse to the longsuffering maintenance NCO, and departed with a fresh wheel.

I stripped the doors and roof off my truck and stretched an old piece of tent canvas between the windscreen and the roll bar as a sunshade. I stored my gear alongside extra water and food in the back. I even scored a piece of plywood for the bed, as trying to sleep atop those corrugations was a non-starter.

It gets surprisingly cold at night in the desert, so I rigged a piece of 550 cord to the starter switch. I also affixed a length of dryer hose to the passenger-side heater register, the other end of which went into my fart sack (sleeping bag in the vulgar tongue). First thing in the morning, I could manipulate the cord and crank the truck without leaving my fart sack. When driving in the cold, I snaked the dryer hose up into my uniform shirt. The resulting warm air inflated my blouse and flowed up over my face. It was nigh heavenly.

Alas, that truck wasn’t mine. When I rotated back to the world, my truck went to somebody else. However, I always held a soft spot for that beat-up old Humvee.

From parts to entire trucks, literally anything you need to resurrect
a military Humvee can be found on eBay.

Meeting Humphrey

Uncle Sam’s Hummers are getting long in the tooth. Back when we retired the M151 MUTT jeeps, we cabled them together and slung them out into the artillery impact areas using CH47 helicopters. There was something about the narrow wheelbase being too much of a liability to sell them to the public. It broke my heart to see all those hundreds of adorable little military vehicles transformed into so much scrap. But, now with old Hummers, Uncle Sam is following a different course.

The government sells these GI-surplus trucks without a title, as-is, and suitable for off-road use only. Many states won’t let you take the process any farther than that. However, down here in Mississippi, we take our small government seriously. It demands a little administrative effort, but these old military trucks can indeed be made street legal again.

You can find literally anything you need to resurrect a military Humvee on eBay. They are simple to service and built like, well, military trucks. Mine was desert tan and, as expected, well-used. We christened the beast Humphrey the Humvee and is now an integral part of the family.

My wife doesn’t much care for Humphrey. He’s cold in the winter, hot in the summer and loud pretty much year-round. She’s ridden in him exactly once and says never again, but Humphrey and I are thick as thieves.

I once got my tractor stuck in the lake — you’ll likely read about it someday. However, when every handy civilian vehicle gave up and quit, Humphrey waltzed in like the automotive stud he is and saved the day.

Gestalt

At risk of reading too much into it, there’s a spirit to these old machines. Humphrey’s driver’s side windshield has been replaced and I found some empty 5.56mm shell casings underneath the seats. Humphrey likely caught a rock serving in some rear echelon National Guard unit someplace, and the casings likely spilled out after a long day at the rifle range — but that’s not necessarily the case.

Humphrey might once have served as the mount of warriors, soldiering along through the dark places amidst danger and chaos. If so, then his wards then no doubt developed the same attachment I did for my truck back in the day. Regardless of his combat experience, or lack thereof, Humphrey and I are pals.

I take Humphrey to work every other week just to keep the fluids mixed. In return, he’s always ready to carry firewood or pull some lesser vehicle free from the mire. The old warhorse also reliably earns admiring glances from passersby in traffic. It seems a suitable retirement for such a noble steed.

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Meeting Humphrey

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