We Get Behind the Wheel of a Surplus Humvee, No Enlistment Required!

The AM General High Mobility Multipurpose Wheeled Vehicle occupies an extremely weird place in American automotive culture. It’s a military machine, the official transportation of the world’s finest hellholes. But it’s also the basis of the former Hummer H1, a six-figure attempt at a domestic Geländewagen and a glamorous co-star in the silliest car chase in movie history (see: The Rock). Until very recently, you’ve only driven one of these things if (A) you once wore fatigues and answered to Uncle Sam, or (B) your successful New Jersey nightclub needed a tax write-off for a friggin’ business vehicle.
About a year ago, though, a third possibility emerged: private ownership for the ex-military machines. Online heavy-equipment auction site IronPlanet bid on a government contract for “disposal of surplus product,” meaning Humvees made obsolete by the new Oshkosh Joint Light Tactical Vehicle. Prior to IronPlanet’s involvement, “disposal” meant just that—most old Humvees were sold for scrap (though they’re not hard to find on eBay, either). The pitch to the government was ­simple: Don’t scrap these things, sell them. You’ll generate more money, and the public will get surplus Humvees for a fraction of the price of an H1.

So far, about 2500 Humvees have been honorably discharged from military bases to private ownership, a process that got easier last summer when IronPlanet began offering Standard Form 97, “The United States Government Certificate to Obtain Title to a Vehicle.” That crucial piece of paperwork allows buyers to prove ownership, and from there one can pursue the quest for a license plate, although IronPlanet isn’t making any promises on that front. For instance, it’s easy to imagine that California might actively thwart the proliferation of menacing diesel troop carriers on its thoroughfares. Whereas in Texas, the DMV clerk might compliment your sidearm and “Don’t Tread on Me” belt buckle while handing over a vanity plate that reads “SECEDE.” Check your state guidelines before bidding.

And then examine your expectations, because a Humvee is unlike any production vehicle you’ve ever driven. Even in luxed-up H1 guise, the Humvee was never known as a friendly, or even competent, on-road machine. You won’t want to buy one of these because you’re thinking it’ll replace your Jeep Wrangler for your daily commute. You do want one, though, if you’re looking to build your post-apocalyptic hideout atop a 60-degree slope surrounded by a five-foot-deep moat. Neither of those obstacles poses a problem for a properly equipped Humvee, which makes it the perfect thing to park in your EMP-proof cement bunker.
We drove a 1987 M998 at Outback Motorsports Complex, a 600-plus-acre off-road playground in Laurinburg, North Carolina. As an early model, the M998 featured GM’s 6.2-liter diesel V-8 instead of the later 6.5-liter, and its green camo hinted at a Cold War anti-Commie assignment rather than more recent sand-toned adventures. The paint is a clue about each truck’s past, but beyond that you’re on your own. IronPlanet’s oil-sample analysis is as close as you’ll get to a Carfax report. But, given the prices—our test truck, with hardtop and LED headlights, sold for $18,250—it can be worth taking a flier on a rig with supernatural off-road abilities.