Note on the Ascona C
04/11/2026
Well, my colleague Krüger didn't give the good Opel Ascona C much credit in his blog . And what's more: I have my own experiences with this model. However, I have to say that it was more the circumstances and the drivers that drew my attention to the good Opel than the car itself.
In the summer of 1990, I joined the recruit school in Payerne (VD) as a motorist recruit. Training to become a truck driver in the army took place in several shifts. Back then, we started with driving lessons from the instructor, our driving instructors. Their rank was that of adjutant, most of them were former chauffeurs or dispatchers who had seen their chance to enjoy a secure salary, regular working hours and generous fringe benefits as professional military personnel. These included a company car and that was - that's right - an Opel Ascona C!
Most of our adjutants were not very "military" types: Knowledgeable, quiet and sometimes up for a laugh. I can remember that a comrade once wanted to lean out of the side window while maneuvering, but he had forgotten that the window was still up. The "Adi" and driving instructor had to laugh so hard that he stopped the lesson. Another time, the motorcyclists had the idea of doing some motocross on the track, which I wasn't so sure would comply with any regulations. One of them promptly pulled up, an Ascona C. The adjutant got off, put his hands on his hips and watched the action, then he rounded up the whole gang, gave them a telling off and then - the comrades drove on! They shouldn't attempt any big jumps, the old Condor A-350 machines would overload the frame beams if they landed too hard...
My driving instructor, God rest his soul, was a little different, a Romand, a French-speaking local. The good man always greeted me with a - not so friendly: "Siigchrrrritzzz, what are we doing today?" We called him "Spike" because, like Tom and Jerry's dog, the corners of his mouth were always pointing downwards and his pronunciation was just as wet when he barked. And he barked a lot! And "Spike" also drove - of course - an Opel Ascona C!
But there was also the collective driving school as a further level of training. Then we drove, always two comrades together on one vehicle, in a platoon, i.e. with our smallest unit in a convoy on a designated route. The instructors occasionally followed us in their cars or waited in a tight bend with a notebook. Don't let a double wheel touch the safety line in the bend! Then there was a reprimand afterwards. But we always kept an eye open to see if there was an Ascona sitting in our mirror or even one parked somewhere on the side of the road. What made it a little easier for us was the fact that the army only allowed rather muted colors: blue, white or a strange beige, we called the color "Kindergaggi". Metallic paints were taboo.
But I got rid of "Spike" relatively quickly, he probably lost his nerve in front of the assembled squad at some point, so he was taken out of service, in his last assignment, of course. Revenge was sweet, because this entire cadre of the Motf RS 248 had also suffered from "Spike's" barking fits in the past, at the beginning of their own military careers. My own military career then proceeded in a calm manner, as the picture proves. But it was driving that Spike hammered into me with his very own charm - barking at me! Motf Sigrist was able to complete an accident-free period of service.
But my respect for a blue, white or gaggia Ascona C has remained to this day. Because who knows, maybe it's the restless spirit of "Spike" that haunts me and shouts after me: "Siigchrritzzz! Rrrrrrright-faaaahhhrrrrrr!"
