WORLD War Two-era army vehicles on their own are far from a common sight 80 years on.

However, they can often be found in groups as their respective owners meet and greet each other regularly and plan convoys across Australia’s barren landscapes.

Casterton’s Bruce Pettingill is the owner of one such vintage vehicle – his 1944 army jeep was one of six of its kind to take part in a 1600-kilometre adventure across the Simpson Desert and remote parts of South Australia in May.

At 79, he said he wanted to do as much as he could with his life.

“I don’t want to be in my wheelchair and thinking, ‘I wish I’d done the Simpson Desert’,” he said.

Bruce bought the jeep around ten years ago near Warracknabeal and has made few changes to it beyond the necessary mechanical works.

It has been kept in use, visiting Tasmania and Coffs Harbour and regularly taking part in the street parade at Casterton’s Kelpie Muster.

It has also been to Corowa in New South Wales, where the largest military vehicle rally in the southern hemisphere, known as the Corowa Swim-In, has been held annually since 1980.

When the opportunity arose to take the jeep across a desert spanning two states and the Northern Territory, Bruce said it was only a matter of ‘why not’.

“I just met up with these people (in Corowa) and this bloke said, ‘One day, I’m planning a trip across the Simpson Desert’,” he said.

The journey was not a one-off special event in the world of old military vehicles - stories come out most years about the adventures of fellow enthusiasts who drive in organised groups around the most remote parts of the country.

Bruce had also planned to join a convoy re-enactment from Alice Springs to Darwin last year to commemorate the Australians who worked and travelled along the road during the war but was denied the opportunity due to Covid-19 restrictions.

It wasn’t the first time Bruce had crossed the Simpson Desert but his army jeep had not previously seen the famous sand dunes that lined this patch of central Australia.

The journey for all six participating vehicles began in the South Australian town of Marree, more than 1000 kilometres from Casterton.

From there, they travelled to Birdsville in south-west Queensland before making the trip across the Simpson.

The journey included an encounter with Big Red, the largest of the desert’s sand dunes with a height of 40 metres.

Bruce said while he himself did not attempt to climb the dune, others in the group went for it.

“A couple of the blokes had a go and didn’t get over – they were fully loaded (with) too much weight,” he said.

“One of the backup vehicles with us got over but it took him a few goes to get it.”

The convoy drove on to Mount Dare, near South Australia’s border with the Northern Territory, before returning to Marree along the Oodnadatta track.

The round trip from Marree through the Simpson and back amounted to around 1600 kilometres – equivalent to driving from Casterton all the way to South Australia’s western border – and was completed in a fortnight.

Ample preparation was essential for the journey – Bruce kept 200 litres of fuel on hand for his jeep alone.

However, he said the trip ran smoothly.

“We had no troubles – you just let your tire pressures down to suit the sand dunes and you go over them,” he said.

Encounters were few along the outback roads but the convoy notably caught up with a group of women riding motorbikes in a charity event for Dolly’s Dream, raising awareness of childhood bullying.

The motorbike ride across the Simpson Desert is an annual event as part of Do It For Dolly Day, created in memory of Northern Territory girl, Dolly Everett, who died by suicide at 14 after an extensive period of bullying and cyberbullying.

Bruce rated his desert experience “10 out of 10”, attributing his enjoyment to the challenge and the new people he met in the convoy.

He said while he had no specific plans for other trips in the jeep, he wouldn’t think twice if a new opportunity beckoned.

“Someone might come up with a bright idea – you just run with these things when they come along,” he said.
“I never plan much for things like that, they just pop up and away you go.”