The Ghost Camaro Got Humanitarian Aid Into A War Zone When The United Nations Could Not
A modified 1979 Chevy Camaro that looks like it came straight out of "Mad Max" is probably the last vehicle you'd expect to deliver humanitarian aid to a war zone. Yet, that's exactly what Helge Meyer did with his Camaro during the Bosnian War. The story circles the internet pretty regularly, but Regular Car Reviews just released an "RCR Stories" video that tells it well, with Meyer at the center of it all, and it's worth every re-telling.
Meyer was a bona fide badass even before the Camaro came along. He'd served in the Danish Special Forces, trained alongside U.S. Army Green Berets, and served in Operation Desert Storm in Kuwait. "Since 1972, I have also been training counter-terrorism and special forces soldiers in the form of a 'psychological 100 km march' along the coast of Denmark," Meyer says on his website. He was keenly aware of how to stay cool under pressure while being shot at.
The Bosnian War was a humanitarian crisis, with three sides fighting for power and civilians paying the price. The United Nations tried to send aid, but attacks and raids were common, preventing the trucks from getting through. Meyer saw the need and had an idea. He bought a 1979 Camaro from an American soldier at the Rhein-Main Air Base near Frankfurt, Germany. Then, he got soldiers at that same base to help him modify the Camaro to prep it for dangerous humanitarian aid missions, using the Camaro's speed and maneuverability to succeed where the U.N. trucks had failed.
Stealth and speed
While military trucks are tough and can carry a large amount of cargo, they are large and slow, making them easy targets. Meyer's idea was to make the Camaro the exact opposite. Unofficially, of course, the U.S. Air Force helped him add armor plating, including underbody protection, Kevlar panels in the doors, and a thick sheet of steel to replace the back window. The tires got foam to turn them into run flats. An enormous push bar was mounted on the front to smash through obstructions.
The weight of these modifications, as well as up to 882 pounds of cargo, slowed the Camaro down a bit, so the engine was tuned up to produce 220 horsepower. That figure doubled to 440 when Meyer activated the nitrous system, enabling him to accelerate to 125 mph in just 13 seconds. While not enough to outrun a bullet, it's faster than most ground-based military vehicles, and no doubt got Meyer out of many sticky situations.
The best way to complete these deliveries and stay alive, however, was to avoid a fight in the first place. To make it into a Ghost, the Air Force gave the Camaro a coat of its best aircraft matte black paint, reducing its visibility not only to the eye, but also to thermal imaging and radar. They also installed infrared lights and thermal imaging systems for Meyer to use, as well as a GPS. We all have GPS units in our cars these days, but they were still uncommon and quite expensive in the 1990s. The final bit of safety gear was a Kevlar vest and helmet for Meyer's protection — a helmet ended up taking a bullet for him, saving his life.
'God's Rambo'
Despite its extensive modifications, the Ghost Camaro's special equipment included no weapons of any kind. Meyer considered his Bible a weapon, which is why he carried no others, despite his extensive military training. Meyer explains on his website:
During a two-hour lecture at the Rhein-Main AIR BASE church for select officers and specialists, I spoke about my years of experience gained on deployments. The fact that I was speaking in front of so many people made me a little nervous. I also felt that my presentation hadn't come across well. So I ended my speech with the words: "If God had a Rambo on Earth, I could be him." I have the training to be Rambo, having served as a combat diver, paratrooper, in the 10th Special Forces, and in the Long-Range Patrol (Jaegerkorps). But instead of Rambo's weapons, my weapon was and is the Bible.
Technically, Meyer worked alone, but he received a lot of support behind the scenes. Soldiers at Rhein-Main Air Base raised more than $12,000 to outfit the Camaro and donate medicine, clothes, diapers, and toys. Even Lego (which shares its Danish-ness with Meyer) even donated some toys to the cause itself.
Meyer insisted on placing these supplies directly into the hands of those who needed them rather than trusting other organizations to do so. He didn't care what side they were on or whether they shared his beliefs. He helped any civilians who needed it, and over the course of the war, he made over 100 runs into Bosnia.
Today, Meyer still owns the Ghost Camaro, though it's a bit less ghostly with a change in the paint. It's now bright orange instead of the military stealth material. He's written a book about his story that's sadly not available in English, but our readers appropriately suggested this as an automotive story that would make a great movie – and we agree. He has signed a film contract with a Beverly Hills lawyer, but we don't know if there has been any further progress. I hope there has been, because this story has all the makings of a great movie, it really happened, and this real life action hero is still alive to tell the tale.