Description
A genuinely rare find — now with a story to match
One of a very small number of Binz-converted W123 ambulances known to survive in this configuration. And after a month of digging, wrenching, and a good bit of detective work, we can finally tell you exactly where it’s been for the last 44 years — and exactly what’s gone into bringing it back.
The car
This W123 estate began life as an ambulance conversion by coachbuilder Binz — a configuration of which very few examples survive. It features a raised rear roofline and extended tailgate opening, originally engineered so a stretcher could be loaded without removing the rear bench. This gives the car noticeably more interior headroom and load space than a standard estate, while keeping the discreet, unmodified exterior look of a classic 1980s Mercedes wagon — no pop-top, no visible signs of conversion from the outside.
Dating from November 1982, this is a 300D with automatic transmission and the legendary naturally-aspirated OM617 diesel — widely regarded as one of the most reliable and easy-to-maintain engines Mercedes ever built. Runs beautifully, fully roadworthy, new exhaust system fitted.
The provenance — a bit of detective work pays off
Every classic deserves a history, and this one very nearly lost hers. All we had to go on were the last French registration papers — a name, an address, nothing more. So we went digging.
That trail led straight to Champagne-au-Mont-d’Or, a leafy suburb of Lyon, and to a family called Goubier — long associated with the address on the registration document, itself the site of a historic private school (l’Institution Ampère) run by the family for decades before it closed in the 1970s. The car was kept by the family for roughly thirty years before eventually passing to a Polish collector/ reseller, who kept it in a private museum collection for some time before it finally made its way to us, unregistered and waiting for someone daft enough to bring it back to life. We’re now in the process of reaching out to the family directly — well-established, still active locally — in the hope of turning up service history, old photographs, or anything else that’s survived. Watch this space.
The revival — one month, one obsession
Since collecting the car, we’ve thrown ourselves at recommissioning it properly rather than just making it “roadworthy enough.” Here’s the honest, unglamorous, thoroughly satisfying rundown of what’s already been done:
Fluids, filters & fuel system
• Both fuel filters replaced (genuine Mercedes OE)
• Perished fuel lines and hose clips replaced throughout
• Oil and oil filter changed (Liqui Moly MoS2 Leichtlauf 10W40)
• Air filter and air box clips replaced (originals were missing entirely)
• Genuine used OEM air box feed pipe sourced — a notoriously hard-to-find part
• Injectors cleaned twice over with Liqui Moly diesel injector cleaner, for good measure
• New glow plugs fitted (old ones removed with a little Liqui Moly persuasion)
Electrics
• Every fuse replaced, matched correctly to amperage, no exceptions — and the fuse box slots cleaned out while we were in there
• Headlights fully stripped to the last bolt, cleaned, resealed, and every single bulb on the car replaced — not just the headlamps. Being a genuine French-market car, they carry the correct gold reflective inner inserts, a small but telling detail for anyone who knows what to look for
Mechanical
• Vacuum pump disassembled, degreased of old oil residue, and rebuilt with brand new gaskets
• Full inspection from underneath — some surface rust present, entirely expected for a car of this age, nothing structural
Bodywork
• The roof aperture where the ambulance beacon once sat — a known leak point on these conversions — cleaned out and properly resealed
Sitting ready to go on
A full brake overhaul is boxed and waiting to be fitted: TRW rear brake shoe kit, Brembo brake pad fitting kits front and rear, Febi Bilstein brake hoses all round, plus a rocker cover gasket, fresh V-belt, and fuel hose. New coolant is also in stock ready for the next fluid change.
The rare stuff — parts you simply can’t just order
Sourcing for a period-correct, no-shortcuts build has turned up some genuinely hard-to-find pieces:
• A set of 4 “Mexican hat” alloy wheels (destined for a refurb)
• Genuine W123 estate roof rails plus the matching OEM roof rack
• Full-length original zebrano wood dash trim — missing from the car, now sourced to correct spec
• A set of all-terrain tyres — and here’s a neat quirk of the ambulance conversion: the ride height is already noticeably taller than a standard W123 estate, a by-product of the heavier-duty ambulance underpinnings. The chunkier tyres simply slot straight in with ample clearance around the arches, no lift kit required for anyone tempted by the Safari-spec look
I bought this one on a hunch. Binz-converted W123 ambulances are vanishingly rare to begin with, and finding one that still wears its conversion honestly — raised roofline, extended tailgate, no pop-top, none of the usual giveaways from the outside — made it impossible to walk past. It had spent time in a private museum collection in Poland before I got to it, which tells you something about how it’s been regarded even before I knew its full story.
What sealed it for me was the detective work afterwards. All I had to go on was the last French registration document — a name and an address. That trail led to a family in a suburb of Lyon who’d owned the car for around thirty years, tied to a site with its own local history. I’m still chasing that thread for old paperwork and photos, but even without it, knowing the car sat with one family for three decades before it ever left France means something.
I’ve spent the last month doing this properly rather than quickly — fuel system, filters, glow plugs, fuses, headlights stripped and resealed with bulbs replaced throughout, vacuum pump rebuilt with new gaskets, the old ambulance beacon aperture in the roof cleaned out and resealed. A full brake overhaul is boxed and ready to go on. It’s not a car I’ve tarted up to flip; it’s one I’ve genuinely enjoyed bringing back to life.
The bodywork is honest rather than perfect — there’s patina, and in places you can see the old reflective ambulance strips showing through where someone painted over them years ago. I’d have kept that character myself rather than polish it away. Between the raised ambulance-spec suspension, the extra load space, and that slightly rough-around-the-edges look, it’s crying out to be a rugged camper build or an unusual daily rather than a garage queen — but equally, someone with the patience could take it further than I have. Either way, you’re not going to find another one like it.
