Coachlines - June 2026

30.06.26 The Clerk Lt Col Craig Hallatt

Clerk’s notes – June 2026


From carriages to convoys: How coach and carriage makers shaped troop transport during the First World War

During our recent Coachmakers’ Battlefield tour of Ypres and the Somme I was fascinated to learn about the use of the omnibus to transport troops to and around the battlefield and thought, as we enter the month of our Summer Court and Coachmaking Awards Dinner, it would be an interesting subject to research for this month’s Clerk’s Notes.

When the First World War erupted in August 1914, Europe marched to battle with one foot in the past and one in the future. Cavalry still clattered across parade grounds, horse-drawn wagons filled the roads, and the skills of the traditional coachbuilder remained indispensable. Yet the internal combustion engine was already reshaping civilian life, and the great cities of Europe – London, Paris, Berlin – were alive with motor omnibuses, taxis, and delivery vans.

The war would accelerate this transition dramatically. Coach and carriage makers, long masters of wood, iron, leather, and suspension, found themselves at the centre of a logistical revolution. Their craft, honed over centuries, became the foundation upon which modern military transport was built. And nowhere was this more visible than in the use of omnibuses – civilian vehicles pressed into service to move troops rapidly to the front.

This is the story of how the old world of coachmaking met the new world of mechanised warfare, and how their fusion helped shape the outcome of the First World War.

The coachbuilder’s legacy: Craftsmanship at the dawn of war

Before the motor age, the movement of troops, ammunition, and supplies depended overwhelmingly on horse-drawn vehicles. The British Army alone used tens of thousands of wagons, limbers, and ambulances, each built on principles that had changed little since the Napoleonic Wars.

Coach and carriage makers were the engineers of their age. They understood weight distribution, suspension, wheel geometry, braking, and the behaviour of vehicles on rough roads. Their workshops were centres of innovation, even if the materials were traditional: Ash for frames, hickory for wheels, steel for tyres, leather for harness.

When motor vehicles began to appear in the late 19th century, it was these same craftsmen who adapted first. Early motorcar bodies were, in essence, carriages without horses. The skills of the coachbuilder – joinery, panel beating, upholstery, and the creation of strong yet flexible frames – translated directly into the new technology.

By 1914, many of the great London coachbuilders had diversified into motor body construction. Companies such as Thornycroft, Dennis, AEC, and Leyland employed former carriage makers to build the bodies of omnibuses and lorries. The transition was not abrupt but evolutionary: the craft adapted, absorbed new materials, and embraced the motor engine as simply the next stage in the long history of transport.

This hybrid world – half carriage, half motor – was what Europe carried into the First World War.

When Britain mobilised in August 1914, the War Office urgently needed ways to move large numbers of troops quickly. Railways could deliver men to the Channel ports, but once in France, the Army faced a problem: the front was fluid, roads were congested, and the distances were too great for marching alone.

The solution came from the streets of London.

The London General Omnibus Company (LGOC) operated a vast fleet of motor buses –most famously the B-type, introduced in 1910. These were robust, reliable, and capable of carrying 24–34 passengers. Crucially, they were built using the same principles as traditional coaches: strong wooden frames, steel reinforcements, and suspension designed to cope with the uneven cobbles of the capital.

Within weeks of war being declared, the War Office requisitioned hundreds of these vehicles. Coachbuilders stripped off their civilian liveries, removed glass windows, reinforced the bodies, and painted them khaki. Many were converted into troop carriers, ambulances, pigeon lofts, mobile workshops, and even anti-aircraft platforms.

The B-type became known as the ‘Old Bill Bus’, immortalised in photographs of British soldiers packed shoulder-to-shoulder, rifles slung, greatcoats buttoned, as they rumbled towards the front lines.

These buses were not merely symbolic. They transformed mobility. A battalion that might take a day to march to the line could now be moved in an hour. Reserves could be brought forward rapidly. Units could be rotated more efficiently, reducing exhaustion and improving morale.

The coachbuilder’s craft – translated into the motor age – had become a strategic asset.

If Britain’s use of omnibuses was impressive, France’s use of civilian vehicles in the early weeks of the war became legendary.

In September 1914, the German Army was advancing rapidly towards Paris. The French Government prepared to evacuate; the situation was desperate. General Joseph Gallieni, the Military Governor of Paris, needed reinforcements immediately to plug a dangerous gap in the French line near the River Marne.

Railways were overloaded. Troops were too far away to march in time. Gallieni turned to the city’s taxi drivers.

On the night of 6th–7th September 1914, around 1,100 Parisian Renault taxis were commandeered to transport nearly 6,000 soldiers of the French 7th Division to the front. Each taxi carried five men – four in the back, one beside the driver. They drove through the night, headlights dimmed, engines rattling, the city’s cabbies suddenly thrust into the heart of a national emergency.

The operation did not win the battle by itself, but it became a powerful symbol of national unity and improvisation. More importantly, it demonstrated the strategic value of motorised troop transport. The taxis helped stabilise the French line, contributing to the eventual halt of the German advance and the saving of Paris.

This episode – the ‘Taxis of the Marne’ – became one of the most iconic moments of the war. And behind it lay the same story: the evolution of carriage-building craft into motor vehicle construction. The Renault taxis were, in essence, motorised carriages, built by craftsmen whose skills bridged the old and new worlds.

Coachbuilders at the Front: Repair, reinforcement, and innovation

Once in France and Belgium, motor omnibuses faced brutal conditions. Roads were cratered, bridges destroyed, and mud was omnipresent. Vehicles designed for London’s streets were suddenly expected to operate in a war zone.

Coach and carriage makers – many of whom had enlisted or been recruited into the Army Service Corps – became indispensable. Their skills allowed them to:

• Rebuild shattered bodies using timber from local sources.
• Reinforce chassis to cope with heavy loads.
• Repair wheels and axles damaged by shell fire.
• Adapt vehicles for new roles as the war evolved.

Workshops sprang up behind the lines, staffed by men who had once built elegant carriages for the wealthy or omnibuses for the streets of London. Now they hammered, riveted, and improvised under canvas roofs, keeping the Army’s motor fleet moving.

Their craftsmanship was not merely technical – it was strategic. A repaired omnibus could carry a company of infantry to the line. A reinforced lorry could deliver ammunition during a critical offensive. A converted bus could evacuate wounded men under fire.

The war demanded ingenuity, and the coachbuilder’s craft delivered it.

The broader transformation: From horse to horsepower

The First World War did not eliminate the horse – far from it, as millions were used for transport, cavalry, and logistics. But the war marked the beginning of the end for horse drawn military transport. Coach and carriage makers were at the centre of this transformation.

1. Diversification into motor manufacturing
Many traditional firms expanded rapidly into motor body construction. Their knowledge of structural integrity, weight distribution, and suspension made them natural partners for engine manufacturers.

2. Adoption of new materials
Steel, aluminium, and composite materials began to replace wood. Coachbuilders adapted their techniques, blending old craftsmanship with new industrial processes.

3. Standardisation and mass production
The war demanded uniformity. Coachbuilders helped develop standardised bodies for lorries, ambulances, and staff cars – an early step towards the mass-production methods that would define the 20th century.

4. Post war civilian expansion
After 1918, many of the same companies that had built or repaired military omnibuses turned to civilian markets. London’s bus network expanded dramatically, using lessons learned from wartime service.
The coachbuilder had not disappeared; he had evolved.

The human dimension: comfort, morale, and the journey to battle

It is easy to focus on the mechanical aspects of troop transport, but the human experience mattered deeply. Soldiers who rode to the front in omnibuses often described the strange mixture of familiarity and dread: the same vehicles they had taken to work or to the theatre now carried them towards the trenches.

The wooden seats, the smell of oil and leather, the rumble of the engine – these were comforting reminders of home. Many buses retained their original advertisements under the khaki paint, a poignant reminder of the world left behind.

Coachbuilders, with their traditional emphasis on comfort and ergonomics, had inadvertently shaped the emotional landscape of the war. A well-built vehicle was not only functional; it was humane. It carried men safely, reduced exhaustion, and provided a moment of shelter in a brutal conflict.

The influence of coach and carriage makers on the First World War was profound and lasting. They provided the skills that built the first generation of military motor vehicles. Without their craftsmanship, the rapid conversion of civilian omnibuses into troop carriers would have been impossible, and they kept vehicles running under impossible conditions.

Their ingenuity sustained the mobility of armies on both sides, as they accelerated the shift from horse-drawn to motorised transport.

The war proved the strategic value of mechanisation, paving the way for the fully motorised armies of the Second World War. They shaped the post-war transport landscape, as the experience gained in wartime workshops influenced the design of buses, lorries, and commercial vehicles for decades.

The coachbuilder’s legacy lives on in every modern military transport vehicle, every logistics convoy, and every troop carrier. The craft did not vanish – it transformed, adapted, and ultimately helped shape the mechanised world.

A craft at the crossroads of history

The First World War was a crucible of change. It shattered empires, redrew borders, and transformed societies. It also marked a turning point in the history of transport. Coach and carriage makers – custodians of a centuries-old craft – found themselves thrust into the age of the motor engine. Their skills, born in the workshops of London, Paris, and countless provincial towns, became vital to the movement of armies.

From the London B-type omnibuses carrying British soldiers to the trenches, to the taxis of the Marne racing French troops to save Paris, the influence of coachbuilders was everywhere. They bridged the gap between tradition and modernity, ensuring that the armies of 1914–18 could move with unprecedented speed and flexibility.

In doing so, they helped shape not only the outcome of the war but the future of transport itself. The story of troop movement in the First World War is, in many ways, the story of the coachbuilder’s evolution – from the elegance of the carriage to the power of the motor engine, from the workshop to the battlefield, from craft to industry.

Coachmakers’ events

The Summer Court – Coachmaking and Carriage Driving Awards Dinner 2026

Join us for a rare evening in one of the City’s most exclusive halls.

The Coachmakers is immensely honoured to have been granted the privilege of holding our Summer Court Coachmaking and Carriage Driving Awards Dinner at the magnificent Girdlers’ Hall – a distinction seldom offered, as the Hall is not routinely available for hire by Livery Companies. It is only through the deep friendship and fellowship between our two ancient Companies that this special evening has been made possible.

Steeped in history, Girdlers’ Hall stands on land first gifted to the Company in 1431 by Andrew Hunte. The original Hall, like so many others, fell victim to the Great Fire of 1666, and its successor was again destroyed during the Blitz of 1940. The present Hall, completed in 1961, was designed to evoke the warmth and ease of a country house – a serene oasis nestled among the modern towers of the City. Today, it remains one of London’s most charming and atmospheric Livery halls.

There are still some tickets left for this magnificent event and the Master Coachmaker warmly invites you to join him for an unforgettable evening in this exceptional setting, as we gather to celebrate excellence and present awards to outstanding young people from across the Coachmaking and Carriage Driving community.

Timings: 6pm-10.30pm
Dress: Black tie and equivalent for ladies
Cost: £160 per person

To book your tickets please click here.

This new event has just been added to our event calendar:

Tour of the Royal Mews at Buckingham Palace – 17th July

Some events in the next Livery year are already open for bookings:

Hampton Court Concours of Elegance 2026 – 5th September

Car Club visit to Haynes Motor Museum – 1st October

A glance at some of the events being planned:

RAC Concours, Pall Mall – 7th November

Lord Mayor’s Show – 14th November

Royal Windsor Horse Show – 14th May 2027

350th Anniversary City Drinks – 31st May 2027

British Driving Society Show at Smith’s Lawn – 20th June 2027

Visit to the Heinz Scheidel Carriage Collection, Germany – July 2027

Please visit https://www.coachmakers.co.uk/events/ for further details and to book your place.