A Royal Enfield I thought wasn't real

The Royal Enfield Bermudian didn't exist, I thought.

 "Of course I would be delighted to be proven wrong," I wrote, in May. 

Well, I have been proven wrong. I'm grateful to blogger Jorge Pullin of My Royal Enfields for lighting the fuse that blew up my theory. In several ways he gets the credit for turning around my notion that the Royal Enfield Bermudian didn't exist. 

You see, as best I could tell in May, the 1952 Royal Enfield Bermudian probably never went beyond the prototype stage. If it had, wouldn't someone remember that there was a version of the Royal Enfield RE2 two-stroke motorcycle that had bicycle pedals in addition to its motor? 

As the name suggests, the Bermudian was designed for the islands of Bermuda, where pedals were required on motorbikes up to, maybe, 1953. 

Photos of one pedal-equipped Bermudian, perhaps a mock-up, exist in archives. And period factory paperwork in the possession of Hitchcocks Motorcycles indicates that 225 of the special RE2s were to be built for Bermuda. 

And yet no one I could find in Bermuda remembers them. Royal Enfield advertisements published in Bermuda at the time showed regular Royal Enfield RE2s, with NO pedals.

I concluded that the Bermudian was cancelled, and only standard Royal Enfields were shipped to Bermuda.

But someone had heard of them, second hand.

"I remember the first time I heard about the pedal equipped RE2s was from the late Dave Benson who told me he spent some time in Bermuda and worked on them," wrote Don McKeand, a two-stroke enthusiast and authority on them for the Royal Enfield Owners Club (UK).

Dave Benson died in 2022. He was technical officer and Life Vice President of the British Two Stroke Club and surely would have recognized an unusual RE2 if he worked on it.

Don's recollection of Dave mentioning the pedal-assisted Royal Enfield came in response to fresh information provided by Jorge and passed along to Don by Graham Scarth, of the REOC.

For his part, Graham returned to the Royal Enfield factory records he studies and concluded that more RE2s went to Bermuda in 1952 then it had first appeared.

There is a trick to this.

"Ledger entries are often inconsistent as they were filled in by different people," Graham wrote me. But adding up all the likely figures, it now looks as though 179 RE2s went to Bermuda. Still less than the 225 envisioned by the factory, but a significant number for a small market.

The factory records don't say whether or not these motorcycles had bicycle pedals. But someone else does.

Bermuda required pedals on motorbikes; did Royal Enfield supply them?

Jorge sent me a link to the 2003 book "The Triumph Tiger Cub Bible," by Mike Estall.

On Page 90, Estall writes, of the Triumph Terrier in Bermuda:

"It has been said that the first Terrier to arrive in the island (date unknown, but prior to delivery of the first production machine to go there in September 1953, and also presumably prior to the March 1953 legislation which removed the pedals requirement) is reported to have had pedals mounted on some sort of bracket, allowing the machine to be propelled like a bicycle. It is most unfortunate but no pictures of this contrivance exist today and the author has reached the conclusion that the story, although interesting, is likely to be apocryphal."

Yet, while discounting the possibility of Triumphs so modified, the author of the Tiger Cub Bible accepts as gospel this caption on a photo of the RE2 with pedals:

"If a prototype Terrier had been built with pedals and folding foot rests, it would have looked something like this. 71 examples of this maroon painted 125cc model were imported in 1952. (Courtesy of the Royal Enfield Owners Club)"

As the caption implies, the photo in the book is one of the archival factory photos of the same prototype, or mock-up.

Whether the number of Royal Enfield Bermudian's produced was 71, or 179, or 225, the only pictures I've seen are all different poses of this very same, single motorcycle.

Six views of the same motorcycle: an RE2 with pedals for Bermuda.
(Courtesy of Jorge Pullin)

To my amazement, Jorge had found all six of these photos in the Redditch library, and graciously emailed them to me.

The images, dated January, 1952, are consecutively numbered, and labelled "Model RE2s with pedals for Bermuda."

They are the only certain, photographic evidence that the Bermudian existed. So far.

I would be delighted to be proven wrong about that, too.

I am indebted to Jorge for finding the library photos and the material in "The Triumph Tiger Cub Bible." 

Author Mike Estall died in 2021 leaving his detailed book for fans of small Triumph motorcycles. 

Royal Enfield enthusiasts, at least those interested in the little RE2, a descendant of the Flying Flea, can be thankful to Estall for laying out the myriad changes in Bermuda law that inspired a pedal-assisted version.

He sets the end of pedal requirement precisely at March 3 1953 (pedals were still required in machines under 50cc). This very probably limits the life span of the pedal-assisted Royal Enfield Bermudian to the 1952 model year.

Did the Royal Enfield 'Bermudian' exist?

Photograph of the Royal Enfield Bermudian.

 Royal Enfield came very close to producing a special motorcycle, equipped with bicycle pedals, in 1952. At least one prototype, or mock up of this moped was built. Photos of it exist. 

How close the pedal-assisted Royal Enfield actually came to production is revealed in documents Allan Hitchcock of Hitchcocks Motorcycles found in the factory records the firm owns. 

These records give the motorcycle the name "Bermudian." It was designed especially to be sold on the islands of Bermuda, where laws once required motorized two-wheelers to be equipped with pedals. 

The little motorcycle was a variation of the Royal Enfield Model RE2 two-stroke. This was an improved and civilianized version of the famous Royal Enfield Flying Flea, built during World War II to be dropped by parachute. 

In fact, factory records show that in 1952 Royal Enfield did send Model RE2 motorcycles to Bermuda. But were these equipped with pedals? 

No one I could reach in Bermuda recalls seeing any such thing, and period advertisements that appeared in Bermuda show ordinary Royal Enfield RE2s, with no pedals visible.

The illustrations in those ads may be incorrect, of course. But I think the regulation requiring pedals simply went away and ordinary Royal Enfields were delivered instead.

There is a story that motorcyclists in Bermuda were attaching phony pedals to their standard machines, to evade the law, and one such modification led to a fatal crash, causing the regulation to be dropped. 

Bermuda's Motor-Cycles and Auxiliary Bicycles (Special Measures of Control) Act 1953 doesn't explicitly deal with pedal power, but it gives authorities the power to change the rules. The timing seems just about right to have eliminated the need for a pedal-assisted Royal Enfield for Bermuda.

The Hitchcocks documents seem to show that Royal Enfield had been in fact gearing up for production. 

Royal Enfield Drawing Office prepared for 225 pedal-assisted RE2s.

A Royal Enfield "Drawing Office" cover sheet lists Sanction No. 949m, "Special Parts for Fitting of Pedalling Gear to R.E. Motor Cycles for Bermuda." Next to the date Sept. 19, 1952 appears the notation "No. of Sets 225."

Two-hundred and twenty-five!

Inside, on the list of "Parts Required to Add Pedal Drive" for the "RE2 Bermudian," the number 225 sets again appears.

225 sets of special parts would be needed for the Bermudian.

A second sheet of "Parts Required in Conjunction With Pedal Drive" seems to show "No. of Sets: 2." Seeing this, sharp-eyed Royal Enfield enthusiast Chris Overton pointed out to me that it's actually, very faintly, not 2 but "225."

For some reason the number "225" is hard to see, but it's there.

A separate engineering drawing found by Allan shows "Driving Cranks" for the "RE2 Bermudian Model." The pedaling cranks could not be normal, straight, bicycle types; they would need a special bend outward to clear the unit motor and gearbox of the RE2.

Factory drawing shows Royal Enfield was planning a moped.

Pedaling the Royal Enfield Bermudian moped would have been awkward, no doubt. The special parts needed to produce a few hundred motorcycles would have made it expensive, affecting the profit to be made.

If there was no legal need to produce the special version to sell in Bermuda, naturally it would be dropped.

And that's probably what happened.

Of course I would be delighted to be proven wrong. Does the pedal-pusher Royal Enfield Bermudian (at least the prototype) still exist? If you know, please contact me.

Is this the oddest Royal Enfield ever?

Photo from Royal Enfield Owners Club archives shows a moped. 

 Yes, Royal Enfield made a motorcycle equipped with bicycle pedals. 

We know this for certain because Royal Enfield Owners Club (UK) archivist Bob Murdoch found a detailed photograph of it. It's a typical 1952 Royal Enfield Model RE2. But it has bicycle pedals. 

I first became aware of the pedal-equipped Royal Enfield in Roy Bacon's 1982 book "Royal Enfield, The Postwar Years." There is a small image of it, on page 140 of the book. Its caption says it shows a "Special RE2 with pedals, folding footrests and altered bars for Bermuda." 

Straining my eyes I could see those features in the small photo. 

Photo from Bacon's book of the Special RE2 for Bermuda.

Did a better photo of the special RE2 exist? I wrote the REOC archivist (and new chairman) Bob Murdoch to ask. His reply came back before I could refill my coffee cup.

"The answer is yes, and here it is!" he wrote.

The photo he scanned is labelled "RE/2512 & 2513. 14th January, 1952. Model RE2 with pedals for Bermuda."

The numbers (probably image nunbers) and near identical wording of the captions indicate that this is a companion photo to the side-on view in Bacon's book.

The RE2 was Royal Enfield 125cc two-stroke motorcycle, a much developed civilian outgrowth of the wartime Flying Flea, famously dropped by parachute with airborne troops.

But many photos in Bacon's book are of Royal Enfield factory prototypes. Was the special version with pedals actually manufactured in numbers?

I thought mabe it was, since the background of the image Bob supplied has been so expertly blotted out. It could have been used as an illustration in print advertisements.

Close-up view of the REOC archive photo. Note that no chain is connected to the pedal sprocket!

Further evidence came from Graham Scarth, who devotes himself to studying Royal Enfield factory records. His research has solved many mysteries.

"The records show a total of 46 Model RE2s going to Bermuda," he wrote me.

One RE2 went to Holmes, Williams & Purvey in Bermuda on March 6, 1952 (probably just a sample? Maybe even the very motorcycle shown in the REOC archival photo?). 

Gibbons in Bermuda received 24 RE2s on Oct. 10, 1952; 20 on Oct. 22, 1953; and one last one on Nov. 2, 1953.

HWP was a BSA motorcycle and Hillman car dealer at the time. Edmund Gibbons Ltd. was a holding company that included Bermuda Motors car dealers.

Unfortunately, "the records do not give any details in the specification column," Graham wrote. In other words, there's no assurance the 46 motorcycles sent to Bermuda had pedals. Based on the January, 1952 date of the archived photo, it seemed possible they did.

Why pedals for Bermuda?

The islands had been free of motor vehicles until they were employed by military bases during World War II. But "in March, 1946, a joint committee of both houses of Parliament submitted a bill allowing each household one car or one 'motor-assisted bicycle'," according to Jonathan Bell in RGmags.com

By 1954 motor vehicles had shoved aside the horses and bicycles of Bermuda. But there were restrictions.

I wrote to Zachary Sagurs of the Bermuda Classic Bike Club. He explained:

"There was a law in place in the late '40s that required all motorcycles to have pedals. This is believed to originate from when autocycles were originally ported into Bermuda.

"That law was changed after a person descending Barkers Hill in Bermuda, took the corner at the bottom of the hill, and his motorcycle having Mobylette pedals welded on (this is assumed, as they normally fitted Mobylette pedals and cranks to meet the law requirements) hit the asphalt, causing a fatality.

"The pedals were left to rotate around with no chain attached. Hence the pedal most likely in the down position as he took the corner."

The Royal Enfield in the archive photo doesn't appear to be wearing pedals just to fool the police. Looking over the photo you see that the kick start lever has been removed but could easily be re-attached. Perhaps it would be carried in the circular tool box, or perhaps you simply started the bike by pedaling. The sprung saddle seat appears to be higher than on contemporary RE2s, perhaps to yield easier pedaling.

Pedals might be handy if you ran out of gas. But "I'd rather push a 125cc motorcycle than try and pedal it, particularly as you'd be stuck with the one drive sprocket ratio, from what I can determine from this photograph," Bob Murdoch commented.

Any chance any of those 46 Model RE2s sent to Bermuda still exist?

"I am one of the largest collectors in Bermuda, and not aware of this model surviving," Zachary wrote.

Too bad. What rarities they would be. Or, maybe not.

Because there is one last bit of evidence that suggests the RE2s sent to Bermuda were just like every other RE2 Royal Enfield manufactured -- without pedals.

Seán Pòl Ó Creachmhaoil, a member of the Bermuda Classic Bike Club since 2012, was kind enough to look up period advertisements from Bermuda Motors. You recall that Bermuda Motors received all but one of the 46 RE2s Graham learned were shipped to Bermuda.

The ads show a typical RE2, with no bicycle pedals attached. It's possible that a stock image was used for the ads rather than a special image for Bermuda showing pedals. 

December, 1952 ad for Royal Enfield in Bermuda. No pedals.

But there is yet one more factor that makes me doubt the pedal-pusher Royal Enfield RE2 was ever produced in numbers. Bermuda's regulations were in flux in those years.

By 1956, and possibly earlier,  the rules changed to allow regular motorcycles up to 150cc. Perfect for the 150cc Triumph Terrier, and Triumph also built a Bermuda-special 150cc version of their normally 200cc Tiger Cub to comply. These are now collector's items in Bermuda.

Perhaps the special pedal version of the RE2 was never produced because the changed law meant that stock 125cc RE2s would do?

BUT WAIT, there's more! Thanks to Allan Hitchcock, of Hitchcocks Motorcycles, we now have a taste of how close Royal Enfield came to producing the pedal-assisted motorcycle. More here.

Royal Enfield Royal Baby motorcycle found

It's a rare Royal Enfield in disguise as a more common Flying Flea. 

The story of a rare Royal Enfield "Royal Baby" motorcycle -- discovered in disguise! -- appears in the June/July edition of The Gun magazine, the publication of the Royal Enfield Owners Club UK. 

Club member James Boaden of the UK wrote about how he found his "Baby" and how he determined it really was one of the very few of its kind Royal Enfield built before World War II intervened. 

Built as a stick-in-the-eye to the Nazis, the Royal Baby design would serve as the prototype for the Royal Enfield Flying Flea, built in thousands for the Allied war effort. 

James was kind enough to share his story with me, and to answer a few additional questions I had. 

He ended his original account with the words "there are times when you should trust your heart and not just your head." Here is the rest of his story, as he wrote it for The Gun: 

"So, I am sat in my kitchen passing the time of day on Google when I spot a very strange motorcycle being advertised; according to the advert it is a 1939 Royal Enfield Royal Baby. If the advert is true it is a very rare motorcycle but it has sat there for six months and looking at the pictures is clearly a late '40s RE125 dressed up as a wartime Flying Flea... or is it?

"In 1934 DKW of Germany launched a new, small motorcycle at a very moderate price, the RT 100 (ReichsTyp 100cc). The RT was very popular with the Hitler Youth.

"In the autumn of 1938, the Dutch importers Stokvis en Zonen were facing a problem as their board of directors contained Jews; the Nazis arranged that Stokvis lost their DKW motorcycle franchise overnight. 

"Stokvis weren't happy and they started looking for a replacement for their best seller. After rejection at Velocette in Hall Green, Stokvis put the proposition to Tony Wilson-Jones at Royal Enfield and in less than six months Enfield had measured up the whole motorcycle and built a prototype for approval by Stokvis.

Royal Enfield and Stokvis executives with their Royal Baby at the Royal Enfield works in Redditch, England.

"In April 1939, two hand-built prototypes were shipped to Rotterdam to show to the Dutch public. The orders started to come in. In July 1939 the Royal Enfield factory in Redditch started production of the Royal Baby. 

"Approximately 190 RBs were made from July 1939 until the spring of 1940, but on the 10th of May Germany invaded the Low Countries.

"In 1942 the Air Landing Brigade made orders for two RB type motorcycles, and these were the basis for the development of the WD/RE Flying Flea, which was parachuted into Arnhem and Normandy amongst other war zones.

"Although few survive, a lot of historical information is available on the thousands of Redditch made Flying Fleas built for airborne operations and the parachuting frames made for them at Royal Enfield in Calton Hill, Edinburgh. But very little information exists on the original RB.

The Royal Baby design led to the famous Flying Flea.

"Enough history and back to the present, the motorcycle is in Holland and Covid restrictions make it rather difficult to just go and take a look; it should have been time to forget about it, but I keep being drawn back to it and decide to do some research. From the pictures I can get huge amounts of information on the construction of the motorcycle, and it also seems to have matching frame and engine numbers so the REOC should be able to help.

"A few calls to Graham Scarth (REOC Chairman), Bob Murdoch (REOC Archivist) and Don McKeand (REOC Specialist) give me all the information I need as the numbers claim that it is an RB delivered to Stokvis in July 1939; unfortunately the frame number has clearly been scratched on at a later date and the engine number photograph looks dodgy too, quite clearly a fake.

"My problem now was with the factory pictures of the RB as there were a number of clear indicators. The motorcycle is presumably a fake but what is it?

"It is not a Flying Flea or even a post-war RE125; could somebody, just possibly, have dressed up a genuine RB as an RB without realizing what they had? Although the dealer selling the motorcycle is totally reputable, I am fearful of asking too many questions as it may drive the price up or bring further interest; more research is required.

"Discussions with owners of WD/RE motorcycles revealed a slight difference in the engine which would confirm it was an RB engine; this could clearly be seen in the photographs and was much more conclusive than a later fitted cover or the like. The engine was definitely from an RB.

"Further research on Google revealed that the RB had a VIN plate mounted on the front of the frame to mimic the plate fitted to the RT100 motorcycle. From the photographs this could possibly still be present but covered with paint.

Badge found on headstock revealed Royal Baby No. 159.

"I bravely asked the dealer to rub the area with paint stripper to see what was revealed, I also promised to buy it if what was revealed confirmed the details. The result, although not conclusive triggered my purchase.

"After two weeks a pallet turns up with a motorcycle on it and I nervously start looking at it. The photograph of the engine number was a bad picture, and the number is clear to see; further checks revealed that the factory stamped number on the rear engine lug is also correct. The frame number has, as thought, been scratched on but upon removing the petrol tank the same number original stamp is revealed.

"My illogical thoughts from a few months earlier have led to ownership of the earliest recorded Royal Enfield Royal Baby, which left Redditch on July 31, 1939 and one of the rarest Royal Enfield motorcycles on the planet."

With that dramatic statement I asked James what he plans to do with his disguised Royal Baby. Here are his replies to that and other questions I posed.

"The Royal Baby is to be restored as a civil bike exactly as originally supplied. The military look it currently has I suspect was somebody trying to make it look like a War Department Flying Flea; if it is for a genuine reason I cannot expect to trace the facts on this.

Original Royal Baby, top, and James' Royal Baby as found.

"Three years ago I bought my first Royal Enfield, a pile of rust that was once a 1960 Prince. Since then things have moved on and I now have the 1960 Prince, two 1954 Ensigns, one 1953 Ensign, two 1950 RE1s (Flying Fleas), two 1948 RE1s, the 1939 Royal Baby, a 1938 Model A, a 1934 Model A, a 1925 201, a 1925 201A and a 1922 201. They are all at differing stages of rebuild.

"It is not commonly known but the RB was never marketed by Royal Enfield and when they introduced it in England as the RE125 in 1940 it all changed back and there was no plate on the front. Any left over RBs were not sold in England and it is thought that when the army wanted the Flying Flea they were given left over RBs. The first purchase contract actually says 2 x DKW RB 125 Motorcycles, which confuses things even further but tends to suggest they were RBs."

James is working on documenting the history of the Royal Baby. Luckily he speaks Dutch, permitting him to translate articles and historical documents in that language. It seems as though his Royal Enfield Royal Baby is lucky to have found an owner that appreciates its importance.

The Royal Enfield Flying Fleas that floated

The Royal Enfield Flying Flea is famous as the tiny motorcycle that went to war, being dropped by parachute with British airborne forces during World War II.

I've written a lot about the origin of the Royal Enfield Flying Flea (it was modified from the Royal Enfield Royal Baby, created to satisfy a Dutch importer's pre-war plan to compete against the made-in-Germany DKW).

I've also written a lot about the Flying Flea's role in airborne warfare.

Or the lack thereof.

Why, I've asked, if the Flying Flea flew to war, are there so few photos of it actually in action with the airborne? We see it in publicity photos, yes and being loaded on airplanes and gliders before the invasions, yes.

Yet I've only found one photograph, so far, of the Flying Flea in a combat situation.

I've even speculated that, once delivered to the battle, the Flying Flea failed to work for paratroopers facing the enemy. That's just speculation but there is some evidence that it failed.

A better answer might be that, while the airborne was fighting inland, the Flying Flea was floating at the beach.

The invasion beach, that is, with troops landing in boats on the Normandy coast.

This still doesn't explain the lack of combat photos featuring the Flea, but it does provide an alibi.

I'm not the first to think of this. For me, the best indication of its truth came recently on Jorge Pullin's blog "My Royal Enfields."

Jorge reproduced a clipping entitled "How the Little Enfield Went to War," quoting Arthur R. Bourne and mentioning the blockbuster movie "The Longest Day." The clipping must have been written sometime after the 1962 movie about the D-Day invasion, and Bourne's death in 1977.

For all I've written about the Royal Enfield Flying Flea, this is the first time I've mentioned Bourne.  That is a real omission, because without him the Royal Enfield "Royal Baby," designed for civilian use, likely would not have donned warpaint at all.

Bourne edited The Motor Cycle, Britain's leading motorcycle weekly, for 23 years. Illustrating the clipping in Jorge's blog is a 1940 photo of Bourne himself, single-handedly lifting a Royal Enfield 125 then under test by the magazine.

An advocate of small, simple motorcycles like the 125cc Royal Baby, he became an advocate of their military value during World War II. He helped refigure the little Royal Enfield for combat (it gained 10 pounds in the process, he wrote).

The Motor Cycle had tested a DKW lightweight motorcycle in 1935. Bourne remembered this in his memoir "Behind the Scenes in the Vintage Years."

"It seemed to me to be a very remarkable go-anywhere lightweight motorcycle with big potentialities as an Army motorcycle, a machine that with its low weight could easily be lifted over obstacles that would defeat every other type of powered vehicle, tracked or wheeled," he wrote.

With war declared in 1939, Bourne would play an active role in enticing interest from the British Army in Royal Enfield's DKW copy, the Royal Baby. This would include him crashing around the boonies (at the risk of his life) in front of Army observers, who were flabbergasted by the performance.

Bourne was a talented motorcyclist. Presented with a hill too steep for the little motorcycle to conquer, he would dismount and walk alongside it as it climbed under power, lift it over a fence at the top, then remount. Impressive.

Particularly impressed was Britain's then brand new airborne army.

Bourne writes that Gen. Frederick "Boy" Browning, father of British airborne forces, said "we must have them!"

Quite an endorsement. Browning is the man who, when presented with the plan for the airborne attack on Arnhem, famously warned that it might be going "a bridge too far." He knew what the airborne troops needed.

But landing by boat?

In his memoir Bourne writes that without the Dutch-inspired Royal Enfield copy of the DKW, "there would not have been one of the 12,000 and more British wartime Flying Fleas, I would not have the letter from 3 Division, one of the two assault divisions on the Normandy Beaches, saying 'They (600 of them) are just the thing for the job,' there would have been no Fleas for controlling the landing of supplies on the Beaches."

So there you have the evidence that Royal Enfield Flying Fleas were on the invasion beaches. Now here's the passage in the clipping Jorge reproduced that convinced me:

"The little bikes were destined to write their own chapter in the saga of the Longest Day; from D-Day onward, they scuttled up and down the Normandy beaches in the hands of beachmasters and their staff, directing and marshalling the incoming waves of troops and supplies like mechanized sheepdogs. And that wasn't in the film!"

The passage is not marked as a direct quote from Bourne, but the article quotes him throughout and obviously was informed by him. Disappointment at the absence of his contribution to the invasion is obvious.

For millions, around the world, "The Longest Day" remains the definitive impression of what happened on D-Day. The Royal Enfield Flying Flea may not have been in the movie.

But it WAS there.

Oh, just one other thing: there is this photo, from the Imperial War Museum, and captioned, on the back "With the Glider Troops: Commandos capture three prisoners who are evacuated in a Jeep. Sixth Airborne Division at Ranville... Taken by Sgt. Christie 6.6.44."

Taken on D-Day, photo shows a motorcycle on hood of British Jeep.
(Copyright: IWM B 5203)

So here is a photo taken on D-Day June 6, 1944 showing British soldiers, gliders, and a Jeep with a light motorcycle on the hood. I at first assumed the motorcycle would be a Flying Flea plopped on a Jeep by airborne troops.

But, no.

It has been identified as James ML, a different two-stroke 125cc motorcycle used by British forces.

I think the British soldier sitting on the Jeep windscreen has his left foot on the distinctive side-mounted toolbox of the James. And I think I see the big external flywheel of the James, its curved bottom visible just above the center of the white star on the Jeep hood. (Yes, British forces of the time did have white stars on their vehicles, as did U.S. vehicles, for easy identification from the air.)

While the motorcycle is not a Royal Enfield, the Jeep itself may be evidence that light motorcycles were used on the beaches. Note the "snorkel" emerging from the side of the hood. British Jeeps landed on the beaches had these.

Was Royal Enfield's Flying Flea a warrior or a wimp?

Royal Enfield Flying Flea pauses as British airborne soldiers cross the Rhine in 1945.

Royal Enfield Flying Flea motorcycles did go to the war zones of Europe with British airborne troops. We know this from photos that show the motorcycles being loaded into gliders.

But there the Flying Fleas seemed to have stopped. I've only found one photo, above, that shows a Flying Flea being ridden in a battle zone.

What happened to them? There is a theory: maybe the soldiers had trouble getting them started.

Here's how I encountered this explanation. I wrote a blog item about how the Royal Enfield Flying Flea was originally created for the civilian market, dubbed the Royal Baby.

For that article I wanted some proof that Flying Flea motorcycles actually made it into battle. I found a diagram showing how to load a British Airspeed Horsa glider with a Jeep and its trailer, an anti-aircraft gun, and a "MC, LT, WT, ROYAL ENFIELD." That's a Flying Flea.

The diagram shows a single Royal Enfield, jammed in sideways alongside the tongue of the Jeep trailer.  (Other gliders would be loaded differently, of course, and may have brought more Royal Enfields. Many, of course, only carried soldiers.)

Loading diagram shows a Royal Enfield Flying Flea at left.
(paradata.org.uk)

I found the diagram on the website Airborne Assault, The Museum of The Parachute Regiment & Airborne Forces. I wrote to ask for permission to reproduce it and asked if they might know why there are so few photos of the Flying Flea actually being used in war zones.

Their answer surprised me.

It was this: in some cases the method of packing the motorcycles hindered their use in combat. Too much packing material was a bother to remove, and there was a device, meant to prevent fuel leaking in transport, that troops did not open.

"Although the bike would start, it eventually stopped working," I was told.

This encouraged me to raise the question with the Historical Military Vehicle Forum, where technical matters are often discussed. Member "Ron" had this response:

"David you must be referring to the air bleed button on the petrol filler cap, which must be released before starting to avoid a vacuum in the tank." And he attached a photo of what the button looked like.

Fuel filler is at right, with "air bleed button" sticking out of it.

Zooming in on the photo you see the filler cap is labelled "Screw Up," presumably referring to the button. Would a soldier, in a hurry, read that as simply inscrutable, or perhaps just the method of removing the petrol cap entirely?

Perhaps the filler cap vent had always been opened during training and the soldier never realized what would happen if it was left closed for transport.

I'd read elsewhere that one of the special changes made in the civilian Royal Baby to make it a military motorcycle was the addition of a "vent sealed fuel filler."

It's exactly the sort of thing you overlook when you're in a hurry. How many times have I failed to move the kill switch button on my 1999 Royal Enfield Bullet to "Run"? Kick as I might, it won't start. It's right there in front of my eyes! And, yet, so easy to forget.

Sometimes all worked out as intended. It must have. Both my contact at Airborne Assault and Ron at HMVF provided the photo of the Flying Flea at the top of this article. It shows a Royal Enfield Flying Flea (and another, heavier motorcycle).

Close-up of Flying Flea with airborne soldiers.

The caption reads: "Airborne troops prepare to make a dash into the burning village of Hamminkeln, March, 1945."

This was during Operation Varsity, the airborne crossing of the Rhine River. Notice that the soldiers have a German soldier in custody, hands behind his head.

And the Flying Flea was there.

Was Royal Enfield's Flying Flea really a fighter?

A grim-looking soldier rides a Royal Enfield Flying Flea on a battlefield.

This well-known illustration shows a British soldier riding a Royal Enfield Flying Flea across a battlefield. There is a burning German tank in the background, and war planes roar overhead.

There is an equally well-known wartime photograph of this very soldier and his Flying Flea motorcycle (note his tea mug attached to the motorcycle!).

The illustration shows the shattered tree of a battlefield. But the photograph of the soldier lifting the little motorcycle is obviously posed, meant to illustrate the light weight of the Flying Flea.

And here he is, tea mug, Flying Flea and all.

The photograph was probably shot on a training ground.

So, I wondered: what was war really like for Royal Enfield Flying Flea motorcycles, once they reached the battleground? Not many photos seem to exist of the little Royal Enfield motorcycles being active in the combat zones of World War II.

The answer could be that they just didn't work.

What??? How can that be?

The Flying Flea (formally called the WD/RE by the War Department) is famous because it could be dropped by parachute to embattled paratroopers. Royal Enfield applauded the service rendered by its little motorcycle in the post-war brag book "A Proud War Record," printed to record the company's contribution to victory.

Historical videos do show that Flying Fleas were transported by air (many, apparently, inside gliders, rather than dropped by parachute).

Still from wartime footage of a Flying Flea being loaded into a glider.
Used in many documentaries, this shot probably dates to Operation  Varsity in 1945.

Clearly, the Flying Flea went to war. But what happened after it reached the Landing Zones with British airborne troops?

The Landing Zones may be as far as they got. I'll explain later why this might be so. But first of all, why were the Flying Fleas going to battle in the first place?

Dropped by air, to airborne troops presumably automatically surrounded by the enemy, what good is a motorcycle?

I assumed their only use would be for dispatch riders, to carry messages. But an authority on Royal Enfield military motorcycles disagreed with that conclusion.

"The bike was not intended for dispatch riders, but for the commandos," he wrote.

"The purpose was to be able to move faster to the place that they had to capture. For instance, in Arnhem the dropping zone was a large grassland outside Arnhem. But the commandos had to capture the bridge, which was a couple of miles away. The idea was to move as fast as possible to the bridge, capture the bridge and stay there until the rest of the Army was there. Unfortunately the Arnhem bridge was 'a bridge too far.'"

I have read that Jeeps, landed by glider near Arnhem and specially equipped with machine guns, were to carry out exactly that mission (but were stopped before they could reach the bridge). Were the Flying Fleas supposed to do that too?

Realistic miniature Royal Enfield Flying Fleas move out to attack.

Modelers and war gamers have at least imagined such a scenario. Battlefront Miniatures Ltd. created striking models of four Flying Fleas riding in formation. The caption explains:

"The troop rode into battle upon the lightweight 125cc motorcycles such as the famous Royal Enfield 'Flying Flea.' This motorcycle was so light it could be lifted over obstacles, but so small that it only carried the rider and his personal kit, making one motorcycle per man a necessity."

These models are for use in the company's "Flames of War" game, and the caption doesn't specifically reference being dropped by air or rushing to seize a bridge. In fact, the website suggests the motorcycles would allow a "Blitz Squad"of infantry to keep up with light tanks and deal with troublesome anti-tank guns they come across.

Maybe so. But consider that, in an airborne operation, you'd be paying Air Mail postage to deliver one motorcycle per soldier for that assault squad. Not very economical. One Jeep could hold four soldiers and machine guns too.

Still from Imperial War Museum film "Sixth Airborne Division Prepares for D-Day."
"Military Police attend to their Matchless and Enfield motorcycles."
Police need a full-service motorcycle, with lights, horn and comfy seat.
(Shot June 1, 1944 Copyright IWM  A-70 25-2)

There's another thing that bothers me. When you look at the Royal Enfield Flying Flea you see a complete motorcycle, with full fenders, sprung seat, chain guard, tool kit, tire pump, headlight with black-out shroud and tail light. Even a bulb horn!

It seems a bit much to give to soldiers who are going to use it on a one-way ride to a bridge, dump it in an alley and take up positions. (The assault Jeeps used at Arnhem could have been used later for other duties, such as fetching ammunition or transporting wounded, things the Flying Flea wasn't equipped to do).

Am I wrong? Does anyone know of an account of the Flying Flea in use in the Normandy invasion or at Arnhem?

There is at least one photo of a Flying Flea in use in a combat zone. I'll show you that next time.

But one final note: The blog Arnhem Jim includes a "Detailed List of the Arms and Equipment of a British Airborne Division Circa 1944."

It lists, among thousands of other items, "Motorcycle, Lightweight, Royal Enfield WD RE light ("Flying Flea") or Matchless G3L  (529)."

That's 529 lightweight motorcycles, not counting an additional 704 other motorcycles (Triumph 3SW, James ML or Ariel W NG). Plus an "unknown" number of Welbike scooters.

The paras really were equipped to put a lot of soldiers on two wheels.

Next time: Did the Flying Flea work in battle?

Meanwhile, here's a look at that historical video of a Flying Flea being loaded on a glider for Operation Varsity.

Royal Enfield's 'Baby' goes to war as the Flying Flea

British paratrooper demonstrates how "easy" it is to lift a Flying Flea,
including his pack, drinking cup, and headlight with black-out hood.
The motorcycle could be lifted over any obstacles it couldn't roll over.

Third of three parts.

The Royal Enfield RB125 "Royal Baby" motorcycle was designed for customers in the Netherlands. But the outbreak of World War II ended sales there almost before they could begin.

The Royal Baby, built in England, was a defiant copy of the DKW RT98, which the Germans had snatched away from Dutch importer R.S. Stokvis & Zonen before the war.

Records are sketchy, but Graham Scarth, chairman of the Royal Enfield Owners Club UK, tells me that approximately 120 Royal Babies are recorded as going to Stokvis in Rotterdam in July/August 1939. The club has the factory records.

During the war, Royal Enfield would make the little two-stroke lightweight motorcycle for the British military. It became the famous WD/RE "Flying Flea," dropped by parachute and glider for British airborne forces.

It served in plain brown paint, with its brake pedal now on the left, rather than the right, to suit the British.

But while the motorcycle was being produced in Britain, its Dutch designer remained in the Netherlands, a neutral nation invaded and occupied by the German army on May 10, 1940.

Joop Van Heusden.

He was Joop Van Heusden.

He always shared credit for creation of the Royal Baby with head mechanic R. de Vries and his staff at Stokvis. But there's no doubt Joop's own concept of the "ideal" lightweight motorcycle had shaped its design, making it even better in his mind than the DKW original.

Separated from his Royal Baby, he found himself with uninspiring work to do on gas generators — devices that substitute wood for scarce petrol. He had his books, his collection of gramophone records, and his dog Peter.

He chose to funnel his energy into helping motorcyclists, through lectures and columns in the Dutch magazine, "Motor." To readers he was "Motor Joop," full of advice and humorous stories. Photos show him lecturing, and surrounded by enthusiasts with technical questions.

Others on the magazine regarded him as honest, highly critical, and something of a grouch, but with the delightful ability to make fun of himself. He was also stubborn and outspoken — dangerous in an occupied country.

A German bullet ended his life. Coming back from grass track races on Oct. 31, 1943, he ignored a red light flashed at him from a car in the dark — probably a command to stop. He was shot in the neck. He's said to have given instructions on how to stop the bleeding.

He died of the wound the next day. He was 35 years old.

The number of crates lined up at the Royal Enfield factory in Edinburgh
suggests the British were serious about air-dropping the Flying Flea.

In 1942, looking for an air-mobile motorcycle, the British war department asked Royal Enfield for 20 of its little motorcycles, for tests. Fitted into a cage, with handlebars sideways, they could be dropped by parachute. The design of the cage was carefully tested, as it had to keep the motorcycle wheels from deforming when the cage hit the ground.

Dubbed the WD/RE, numbers of the Flying Flea were ordered for the British army in 1943. British Airborne forces had a busy war, with major drops during D-Day and the Operation Market Garden assault on the Netherlands. Without its cage the Flying Flea also fit neatly into assault gliders or beach landing craft.

Here is a video of a wartime WD/RE being ridden.





After the war the WD/RE became the civilian Model RE. It was popular.

"Just over 30,500 Model RE's were manufactured with the pressed steel girder forks and rubber band suspension between 1939-1949,"  Graham wrote. "This figure includes all the WD machines, as well as those produced for the Dutch importer before the war that were badged RB and called Royal Baby."

Americans got their chance to buy Royal Enfield's baby motorcycle after the war.
Starting in 1955, later versions were even sold here badged as the Indian Lance.

The Model RE and would even be exported to the United States — ironically by the same Stokvis & Zonen firm that originally created the Royal Baby for the Netherlands! This seems to end in 1949, as we did not get the 1950 version, with telescopic forks. However, some of these later versions did come to the U.S. during the 1950s and were sold badged as the Indian Lance.

The Royal Enfield design would compete in the postwar world against many knock-offs of the original DKW, including the Harley Hummer, BSA Bantam, and others from the Soviet Union and Japan. Thanks to Joop Van Heusden and Royal Enfield, it was certainly the earliest and most unique of them.

In Britain, improved versions called Ensign and Prince remained in the Royal Enfield catalog into the 1960s.

Joop would not have recognized these later motorcycles, which had telescopic front forks, swinging-arm rear suspension, full-size tank, foot shift, electric horn, dual seating and even their own version of the Royal Enfield Airflow fairing.

In his book "Royal Enfield, The Postwar Models," author Roy Bacon would write that even these fancier versions eventually couldn't compete with popular four-stroke, 250cc machines coming on the market:

"...in August, 1962, the model left the range, and so brought to an end a machine run of over 20 years that had begun with a German foible and Dutch determination."

Part 1: The heroic Dutch man behind the Flying Flea.

Part 2: Flying Flea was his Royal Baby.

Royal Enfield's little motorcycle was his 'Royal Baby'

Joop van Heusden on the Royal Baby at Royal Enfield works in Redditch, Britain. From left are Royal Enfield's Major F.W. Smith, managing director, and technical manager R.A. Wilson-Jones; Stokvis & Sons head mechanic R. De Vries; and Royal Enfield works manager H.T. Guise.

Second of three parts.

It was a severe blow to lose the lucrative license to sell the popular DKW RT98 in the Netherlands. It was insulting, too, considering all that R.V. Stokvis & Sons company of Rotterdam and its technician Joop van Heusden had done to improve the DKW motorcycle.

Stokvis director Egon Ericsson wasn't going to stand for it. He asked Royal Enfield to help.

Going to Royal Enfield, in England, to request that it build a replacement for "The Little Wonder," made business sense. The two-stroke poppers were real money makers, thanks to Dutch tax laws that favored very small motorcycles.

The 1938 German decision to award the DKW business to a competitor (because Stokvis had Jewish directors) would backfire on the Nazis. The Royal Enfield RB125 "Royal Baby" would go to war with the British as the Royal Enfield Flying Flea.

The Royal Baby, one modern Dutch magazine wrote in 2019, was a form of resistance to the Nazis: "a thick middle finger."

For Joop, going to Royal Enfield was also a dreamed-of opportunity.

Joop and his staff at Stokvis had promoted and raced the DKW RT98, suggesting improvements to the factory. Enlarged cooling fins, improved clutch and gearbox and greater precision in the finishing work were among the results, and Joop and his technicians began to feel it was "our machine."

A determined Joop, center, with his DKW RT98 competition team.
Stokvis director Egon Ericsson is the man standing behind him.

DKW hadn't taken all of their suggestions, of course. Going to Royal Enfield for a replacement meant a chance to start all over again — but with the knowledge to make an even better motorcycle.

It was like being 10 years younger, Joop wrote, in 1939:

"We were 20 again — remembered what we know now — and our ideal? Our light machine? Well, the Royal Baby is almost identical with what we thought was the most ideal light motorcycle. And knowing what a care was taken both in construction and in the choice of applied materials, I can personally assure you that our new Royal Baby is closer to this ideal than any other creation in this area."

It wasn't easy, of course.

"It was a very rewarding task to convince the constructors at the Royal Enfield plant that it was not the bicycle as a basis, but the motorcycle as the basic idea that had to be used here," Joop wrote.

"The main features of a motorcycle; and therefore a motorcycle frame with a real ball head, consisting of a forged one-piece steel lug and with enclosed headset bearings instead of jammed headset heads, motorcycle brakes, really watertight, and rear brake being the most used by laymen, even with the stiffening rib; motorcycle wheels with spokes with weighted heads, strong rims and real balloon tires.

"The frequently occurring defect of spoke breakage was eliminated by punching the spoke holes in the rims in the right direction, while steerability was greatly served by applying the English Dunlop 19X2.50 tires, as a real motorcycle profile demands.

"Logically, the rubber-band springs that we created were also adopted and the handlebars were fitted with thin, easy-to-grip handles."

The Royal Enfield Royal Baby was close to Joop's "ideal" light motorcycle.

Like the DKW, the Royal Baby would use a two-stroke motor. With only 125cc Joop couldn't afford the luxury of the four-stroke's empty rotation just to operate a valve train.

This would mean having to mix oil and gasoline when refueling, a serious inconvenience, but Joop rationalized that high fuel mileage would make this operation less frequent.

Their knowledge of the DKW RT98 gave the Dutch technicians ideas for the ideal shape of cylinder and piston, ignition system improvements and gearbox design.

"The same concern will be found in the beaded edge of the gas tank, which will prevent damage to the cables, the sealing of all bearings and pivot points, whereby grease leaks will be excluded, and countless other trifles," Joop wrote.

Joop favored the tank-mounted shift because novices need both feet on the ground for balance — so a big tank, which would force a foot shift, was out. He was against such luxuries as swinging rear suspension, sidecars, full-size headlights with built-in speedometers, and "overly large brakes."

It all took less than six months. The Royal Baby was born.

"The British Lion is startled awake," wrote the Dutch magazine "Motor." There was talk of a "British invasion," meaning an attractive new motorcycle coming onto the Dutch market.

It was now May, 1939.

In one year, German troops would invade the Netherlands, occupying the whole country for five years. More than 200,000 inhabitants would be victims of war, more than 100,000 of them victims of genocide. Perhaps another 70,000 would die, starved of food or medical care.

"Motor Joop," as he was called, would die in 1943, shot by a German soldier.

The Royal Baby would live on, to fight back.

Part 1: The heroic Dutch man behind the Flying Flea.

Part 3: The Flying Flea.

The heroic Dutch man behind the Royal Enfield Flying Flea

Joop Van Heusden, left, in the three-rider team he formed to campaign the DKW RT98.

First of three parts.

For the Nazis, cruelty was always the point. It puffed them up. It demonstrated their power. It hid their weaknesses.

One case in point is of a little motorcycle the world called "Das-Kleine-Wunder" (The Little Wonder).

In the years before World War II, the German DKW RT98 was a big seller in the Netherlands. Tax laws there favored the little motorcycles, and the Dutch importer had a clever technician on staff who not only promoted the RT98, he raced it and improved its design.

But the Dutch importer had directors who were Jewish. That was reason enough for the Germans to suddenly pull the distributorship in 1938, and award it to a competitor.

It was disgraceful, although nothing to compare to what was happening inside Germany and what was yet to come during the war.

The slight was resented by the firm and by the young (only 30 at the time) technician. What they would do about it was audacious.

Incredibly, their response would eventually result in German soldiers having a near-clone of the DKW descending on them from the skies.

This was the Royal Enfield Flying Flea, landed by parachute and glider with British airborne forces to serve as an instant mount..

When they asked Royal Enfield to build the Model RB125 (the Royal Baby) for civilians, the technician and his employer only intended to create a replacement for their lost DKW. Their revenge actually became a weapon.

The center of the story is the young technician, who would lose his life in 1943 to a German bullet.

It is a remarkable story. Remarkably, it is being documented by a descendent of the technician, himself Dutch, and an associate of today's Royal Enfield company.

"The man who was responsible at the Dutch importer for the RB125, the predecessor of the Flying Flea, was my great uncle Joop van Heusden (also known as 'Motor Joop')," Jurgen van Son wrote me, in an email.

"Eighty years later I have the privilege to work for Royal Enfield Benelux (Belgium, Netherlands and Luxembourg)," he wrote. His job is in marketing and communications.

Jurgen started as a motorcycle mechanic, salesman and shop manager, but he didn't learn about his great uncle until this century. He became editor of a scooter and lightweight motorcycle magazine and realized that his own life seemed to follow the pattern set by Motor Joop.

In 2019 he even began representing the Royal Enfield, bringing the brand "back in the family."

He sent me a trove of material about his great uncle, including a 2019 article from the Dutch motorcycle magazine Classic & Retro, and magazine articles "Motor Joop" himself wrote during the war for Motor magazine in the Netherlands.

One article about Joop notes that he had "an iron will and a deep sense of justice." That might help explains how he reacted to the loss of the DKW business, and, possibly, even how he would die.

1935 photo of Motor Joop and an Ariel motorcycle.
He was the acknowledged expert in the Netherlands.

Joop was the Netherlands expert on Ariel motorcycles when the business was taken over by NV R.S. Stokvis & Zonen (Sons).

In December, 1934, Stokvis presented him something new: a railway car full of tiny motorcycles of less than 100cc each.

He first got to try one in the spring of 1935 — it stalled immediately. He found that a dash of gas would get it launched and he quickly became enthusiastic.

So enthusiastic was he that three, including one for himself, were entered in an off-road race, although he had never competed in any race, let alone cross-country.

The little motorcycles were kept behind a shed until time for the race, for fear that when organizers saw them they wouldn't  allow them on the track with real machines.

Joop worried that some joker in the crowd might grab his rear fender and hold him back at the start. Few thought they would finish.

The three started from the back. Fifteen laps later Joop was startled that onlookers were urging him to go faster — it wouldn't go any faster! He came in seventh out of 17 and was surrounded by people who wanted to know where they could buy an RT98.

Joop took the RT98s into more and bigger competitions, with himself as team leader. "Unprecedented results were soon achieved," Joop wrote.

There were other light motorcycles, but in the Netherlands the DKW RT98 was the success story.

"The numbers with which they were sold spurred even greater effort," he wrote. "No means were left unturned to prove the usefulness of light motorcycles in general, and no opportunity was left unused to increase the quality and the properties of the whole higher and higher."

Joop's suggestions for improvements were heard at the factory in Germany. He wrote:

"The finish had to be embellished and made to last: simply put, but it meant making the whole durable stainless and varnishing three times before it went into the muffler furnace.

"Special 'luxury' models had to come with separate piping and many chromed parts. What a layman can hardly imagine. What is a beautiful finish for a tank? What color should it be?

"Whole parades of complete laymen were led along tables with many types of tank designs, and the result of 'popular opinion' was surprising...

"The technical qualities of the whole had to be improved: sprockets widened, pin switch became claw switch, magnetized iron became magnetic steel, varnished coils were impregnated in vacuum tanks. Rim profiles were changed, spoke thicknesses had to be changed...

"I mentioned that no opportunity was left unused to demonstrate the possibilities with light machines, but what this single sentence entailed in work and what this required from the dedication and labor-power of my closest technical helpers is truly not in evidence."

This helps us understand what it meant, in 1938, for the very profitable DKW franchise to be yanked away and awarded to a competing firm.

And it demonstrates the depth of knowledge Joop had to offer Royal Enfield when the moment came to cross the channel to Britain.

Part 2: The Royal Baby is born.