This a script Frank Dolman had prepared for a club talk (not sure when, or for which club) – which Martyn Blunt typed up from the hand written original which will be displayed here shortly

We are very fortunate that Wendy Frank’s daughter has provided and allowed us to reproduce this along with other photographs that will follow.

Reclaiming a Douglas Competition Model
(Script for a club talk by Frank Dolman)
1
It must have been in 1959 when I heard of a Douglas for sale – model unknown. I had been the proud
owner of “Galloping Gert” my 1912 Ladies Model since September 1956, and had grown to like the
flat twin, as distinct from my ‘Frantic Barnetts’ (150 & 197cc) and my latest acquisition with valves – a
1957 B31 BSA.
There is a Douglas at Ditton (“Ditton girls are mean and dirty, there’s none in Harston under thirty”) –
you must know the place. Well, a friend and I went to have a look at the Duggie. We knocked on the
door of the prescribed house and four louts appeared – they would be called hippies nowadays. They
were very keen to show us the wonderful buy.
The rusty, battered, dilapidated, part-missing, machine was put before us. Now, I could see it might
have been a Duggie at some time – I mean, you don’t have to be very intelligent do you! But I had
never seen or heard of a Douglas that looked like this might have done. You see, it did not have any
rear springing, the engine was very high above the ground, and both exhaust pipes merged into one.
There were two wheels and not much more in any state of good repair.
After walking round it, giving it the occasional prod, I plucked up courage and turned to the biggest
tycoon of the four, who were arranged either side of the remains, holding it up as it had no stand.
“How much do you want for it?”
“A fiver mate” was the reply.
“I’ll give you £3” I said in my best bargaining tone. We argued the price for several minutes. There
was no sale. I could not really afford £3, and £5 – well, it was not complete anyhow, so we left and
made out way home.
The fact that it had a rigid frame, and was a bit different did not really mean anything to me at this
point. I was determined to keep track of this Douglas hoping it would come into my hands at a later
date, if only to save it from those lads. A fiver indeed!!!
The remains of the Douglas went from hand to hand – rich people – and moved about Cambridge at a
rapid pace considering it was not taxed or insured and had not run for some time. Weeks turned into
months, months into years, years into more years, as it steadily moved around without being used on
the public road. My scouts would report its whereabouts and this ‘hunt the Duggie’ with an empty
pocket went on until 1966.
Now in the meantime I had met a young lady and had married her so our ‘my pocket’ was even
shallower. The remains of the Duggie had gone to ground, and my spies could not trace it anywhere. I
was a little disappointed, but not unduly worried as I had acquired a superb (and those who have
seen its original condition and finish will, I hope, agree with me) 80+. Untouched by human spanner,
as were the big ends by oil. Yes, I had to pay through the nose for this one. £5-10s, but that’s another
story.
Months of no scent passed, but a casual conversation with a fellow motorcyclist who was engaged in
the running of the local RAC-ACU training scheme told me that when he went to the city police station
each Sunday to collect the training scheme machinery, he had spotted in the ‘lost, stolen or found’
compound an unusual motorcycle frame and wheels – yes more bits had disappeared. I questioned
him about their exact whereabouts. “They can be seen from the road.” he said.
So, on my way home from work on Saturday afternoon, I made a detour to look at the relic. Yes –
there it was sure enough, leaning against a wire fence, complete with its bicycle racing handlebars
(inverted I should point out), bicycle seat, Mk IV blue front wheel and Comp rear wheel – that’s all that
was left.Reclaiming a Douglas Competition Model
(Script for a club talk by Frank Dolman)

2
Having had time to do my homework in the previous years, I now realised that the Douglas was no
ordinary model – it was indeed a Comp model. Not many were made, and even fewer are left, and of
those that are, only about one is to original specification. It had also dawned on me that the fiver
originally asked for was not a bad price. I wondered how much the police benevolent fund would take
for it, as I was determined to make a bid for it if I could and save the remains.
Putting on my best law-abiding citizen voice, and manners, I entered the emporium of the men in
blue. I found the ‘sarge’ on duty and told him I was interested in the Douglas motorcycle frame in his
compound.
“Is that what is it? We had wondered. Well, my boy, you write a letter to the Chief Constable and tell
him what you want. Good day”.
When I arrived home, I told my wife of our good fortune in finding this rare beast, then she told me
mine! After a lot of pros and cons my wife condescended to type me a letter to the Chief Constable,
telling him of my frantic desire to own the remains of a Douglas motorcycle he was holding, and listing
all the other Duggie’s it would be stabled with. Plus all the usual ‘bull’ to plead my case. My wife
Margaret made a wonderful job of the letter. I awaited the reply eagerly. My wife did not. Finally, it
came.
It said words to the effect that the remains of the motorcycle in question had been found abandoned
on some waste ground. An investigation as to the identity and ownership were being proceeded with.
If it was to be disposed of, my application would receive favourable consideration, and they would be
in touch.
Every Saturday for the next few months, I would detour on my way home from work just to see if it
was still leaning against the fence. Well, my application did receive favourable attention – the bike had
disappeared one Saturday, and they still have not told me about it.
This new situation now called for some widespread action, and action fast, in case the remains should
be removed from the city confines, to be lost without trace. Or a fate worse than death – the
scrapyard! I had no M.I.5 to call on but could call on the help of another very good friend – C.E.A –
not the little vintage one, but the large Vincent one. Criss, being an electrician, journeyed about town
a lot. I hoped he could be persuaded to pay a visit to the local scrapyards on his travels. After much
chatter and the odd glass of ale, I described this veritable treasure that I was sure must be lying in a
scrapyard. And how it would need a man with a keen eye, and a good line of patter to retrieve the
Duggie. Criss agreed – so detective work could proceed on the Monday.
Monday came and went. So did Tuesday and Wednesday. These things take time I told myself, more
in hope than in anything else. Criss would do his best. On the Thursday evening we arrived home late
on the BSA A7, my wife and I, complete with the weeks shopping – yes we shopped on a Thursday –
not so many people about. As I drove down the garden path, the headlight beam picked out two
wheels and a lot of bent tubing leaning against our trellis. We unloaded the BSA and went into the
house mainly to put the conservatory light on so as to be able to examine the remains of what must
be the Douglas.
Groceries and wife safe in the kitchen, I began to read the note tucked through the letter box by Criss
– I knew his writing. “Best of luck, I’ll send you the bill”. Typical Criss – straight to the point.
My first sighting in the headlamp beam was correct, the frame was very badly bent. The bottom frame
tubes were only 3” apart. The top tubes made a steady arc too. I could have kicked myself for this. £5
would have bought me more than I saw before me and in better condition 5 years ago. How much
was this little lot going to cost me? I shuddered to think.Reclaiming a Douglas Competition Model
(Script for a club talk by Frank Dolman)

3
The bent tubes and wheels lay in the garden for several days until CEA arrived. I dare not do anything
to the bike in case the price was too high – well it might have been on a sale or return basis. CEA duly
arrived and told his story of visiting nearly all the scrapyards, and finally traced it to the top of a heap
in one. It had, 15 minutes before Criss arrived, been put there by one of those crane things with a
heavy electro-magnet attached. “If you want it mate, you will have to climb up and get it mate”, Criss
was told. Not being built for climbing Criss decided that his young apprentice boy who was with him
needed some exercise, so up he went. In a little while the remains were down to ground level.
“Twenty-five bob” the crane driver shouted. “Ten” said Criss. “The tyres are good.” said the driver.
“Good for what” said Criss. “A pound note.” said the driver. “No” came the reply from Criss. “15/- or we
leave it where it is.” “Pay at the gate.” said the driver. Now you see how big businessmen work!
This done, the bike was loaded into Criss’s A35 van – well as much as would go in and was smartly
driven to my home. Criss as usual had done a good job.
After careful examination in the daylight, I could see that the rebuild would be a long job. The trueing
up of the frame would be the worst. I could not weld, and if I could I had no apparatus to do it, and I
could see I would need it. So I joined an evening class at one of our village colleges to learn the
secret of oxy-acetylene welding. Let us now assume I could stick two pieces of metal together
correctly. When one had mastered the art, one could bring one’s own jobs to practice on.
Before I started to practice on the Duggie frame, the wheels and front forks were removed – in fact
that is all there was left to remove. A great study of all the possible ways to straighten the frame was
made. The conclusion being to cut it into four pieces, then play it by ear. I will not bore you with the
actual straightening details, suffice to say that aligning mandrels, spacers, vee blocks and straight
edges were made up. An old car screw jack was used to push apart, and a Spanish windlass to pull
the frame together. Eleven weeks later and much heating and welding the frame was said to be OK,
or the best that could be done with the knowledge and equipment available.
It was alright to have a straight frame and the correct rear wheel and comp forks, which are different
to the standard and ‘plus’ forks. But I needed a 21” front rim or wheel, correct tank, saddle, and
exhaust system, undershield, mudguards etc. Most pieces were collected from various sources, the
tank, a very rare component was purchased from a club member.
Having got most parts, (and what I had not got I was prepared to make), the rebuild started. Frame
painted, forks overhauled, rear wheel bearing changed (don’t like square balls), 21” rim spoked onto a
MK IV front hub, trials toolbox fitted, Dunlop trials saddle fitted – I was lucky to find one of those. Alloy
guards fitted front and back, undertray, tank and lamp brackets etc.
It should be pointed out that during previous weeks, much Duggie comp literature had been collected,
so as to make sure the rebuild was to original spec, and it is as far as material was available. Let us
now picture the cycle parts complete. I considered that it was not worth spending a lot of time and
money on rebuilding an engine first of all, if the frame would not handle well after its straightening. In
my workshop I had two thirds of a MK I (bought for 10/-), with engine unit which ran very well indeed.
The unit was to be a slave power plant – there was not much power, (as MK I owners will tell you, but
a great thirst for petrol), but plenty of ‘plant’ as the engine unit had stood outside for 6 years and was
green all over. It ran happily so why strip it down? The replacement gaskets would be almost the
same price as the cost of the engine in the first place.
When the engine was installed, exhaust system to original spec, cables and lighting equipment were
fitted.Reclaiming a Douglas Competition Model
(Script for a club talk by Frank Dolman)
4
The comp model was now ready for the road, except for a registration number. Only a few weeks
earlier a very late MK IV, one of the green ones, was purchased for £4/10s. I would use the log book
to register the comp model. Now here is an interesting story. The log book gave the reg number as
32AEV, but the plates of the MK IV said AEV32. Now each time, after the first, I taxed 32AEV a few
days later a letter would arrive and ask for the log book to be returned. This I duly did each time. After
about a year of this I wrote to them and asked what was going on. “A filing error” came the reply. It
seems all of its ‘taxed’ life by previous owners, it had somehow been taxed as AEV32 as the number
plates said and not 32AEV as stamped in the log book.
On its trial run the comp model performed faultlessly, steering spot on, no tendency to veer left or
right, brakes excellent. In fact, the only compliant was the lack of ‘go’. You may have realised I have
not mentioned the air cleaner assembly, which was an extra, or the genuine comp gear box. Well, I
could not find an air cleaner – I have acquired one since. But I’m afraid I do not have a comp gear box
that gives 21 to 1, with the correct sprockets. So if any member reading this has a MK III gearbox he
wished to dispose of let me know. I must admit I have made a set of four gears for the first two ratios,
the same as a MK III, but they still await heat treatment.
Readers may recall John Holmes wrote one article in the “New Conrod” concerning our ride in the
1969 Exeter Trial. What he did not mention was his far better riding skill with a MK III with almost no
ground clearance, and the fantastic “go” of his engine. As the old MK I engine was dying, John offered
at the eleventh hour to rebuild a MK VI engine of mine to put in the bike for the trial. John fitted one of
his reconditioned crankshafts which he had done himself – he made up the new crankpins. I got the
barrels re-bored. The engine was fitted to a standard gearbox and put into the frame on the Thursday
evening before leaving for the trial on the following Friday evening. No time to run the engine in. I
hammered the bike, and not once did it falter, and nor has it till this day. A fine rebuild by a grand
chap!
‘Running in’ is a fallacy. The engine runs so quiet. You ask anybody who rode it, or saw it at the 1970
Gymkhana, that you can hear the contact breaker open and close! No really it is an extremely good
engine. I am very pleased with the bike as a whole.
I hope dear members, I have not bored you with the reclaiming of a comp model.
Footnote:
CEA – are Criss Arber’s initials. The apprentice lad sent in to rescue the machine was Keith Wright
who still vividly remembers the whole episode.