Land Rover Defender Churchill Edition: A V8 Tribute to Britain’s Bulldog

Imagine Winston Churchill today. Not the cigar-chomping titan of 1940s newsreels, but a modern bloke in his mid-70s, squinting at his iPhone while telling Siri to order more Pol Roger. Now picture him rattling down a country lane in a Series I Land Rover from 1954. A car so agricultural it makes a Massey Ferguson look luxurious. Romantic, yes, but comfortable? Not unless you’ve got buttocks forged from cast iron.

Fast-forward to 2025 and Land Rover has decided Churchill deserves an automotive resurrection. Enter the Defender V8 Churchill Edition. A limited run of just ten cars, each painted in Bronze Green, each stuffed with a 400-horsepower V8, and each priced at a sum that could buy you a four-bedroom semi in Solihull.

And before you ask, no, there isn’t a special drawer for your cigars.

A £232,500 history lesson on wheels

Here’s the fact: the Churchill Edition is based on the classic Defender, the boxy one that bowed out in 2016. Customers get a choice of 90 or 110 body styles, with the 90 available as either a Station Wagon or a Soft Top (which is basically a roof made of canvas and optimism).

Now, the joke: Land Rover calls it “comprehensively rebuilt and re-engineered for comfort and performance.” Translation? They’ve stuck a whopping great 5.0-litre V8 under the bonnet, bolted in modern suspension, and given it more leather than a Chesterfield showroom. It’s still recognisably a Defender. Only this one can out-drag a hot hatch and terrify your labrador at the same time.

Back to the fact: that engine produces 399bhp, runs through an eight-speed automatic gearbox, and will haul the short-wheelbase version from 0–62mph in 5.9 seconds. Which, for context, is about as quick as a Volkswagen Golf GTI, but in something shaped like a shed.

Paint, badges, and the ghost of Winston

So what makes it Churchill’s Defender rather than just another Classic Works special? First, the paint. Bronze Green, “carefully matched” to the exact shade of Churchill’s 1954 Series I. Second, the wheels: 16-inch heavy-duty steels that look like they’d laugh in the face of a pothole. And third, the decals. Each car wears ‘UKE 80’ on its wings, the same numberplate as Churchill’s original Land Rover.

There are also some cosmetic touches that sound like they were dreamed up after a few too many G&Ts: a mesh grille, matt-black headlight surrounds, and bespoke badging. It’s less “shouty limited edition” and more “if you know, you know.”

Inside: Champagne o’clock

Step inside and it’s as if Churchill has traded his war cabinet for a gentleman’s club. There’s Bottle Green and Windsor Ebony Bridge of Weir leather everywhere. Seats, grab handles, even the headliner. Forget utilitarian hose-down floors; this is luxury cosplay.

The tech is deliberately old-school. No Tesla-sized screens here. Instead, you get a single DIN stereo with sat nav, DAB radio, Bluetooth, and a “unique” clock design inspired by, wait for it, Pol Roger Sir Winston Churchill champagne. Because nothing says “rugged off-roader” like being reminded it’s half-past bubbly.

The Soft Top: canvas, but make it posh

If you’re the sort of person who thinks roofs are overrated, Land Rover will sell you the Soft Top version (starting from £242,500 ex VAT). The hood can be unzipped and rolled up for “open-air driving” which sounds idyllic until you realise Britain spends nine months of the year under drizzle.

To keep things sensible, Land Rover Classic has fitted extra tie-down points so the canvas doesn’t flap off at motorway speeds. Which is handy, because if you’re spending nearly a quarter of a million quid on a car, the last thing you want is to explain to the dealer that your roof now lives in a hedge outside Basingstoke.

Performance: the shed that sprints

Despite weighing roughly as much as a modest bungalow, the Churchill Edition is no slouch. The V8 makes it feel hilariously overpowered. 0–62mph in six seconds flat, with a top speed of 106mph. Which, in a Defender, feels like 200.

The underpinnings are thoroughly modern too. Eibach springs, Bilstein dampers, Alcon brakes. There’s also a torque-biasing centre diff and heavy-duty axles, so it’ll still crawl over a ploughed field like the original. Only now it’ll do it while playing DAB radio and reminding you that Churchill once said “Champagne should be dry, cold and free.”

Should you actually buy one?

Let’s be honest. At £232,500 plus VAT, this isn’t really about practicality. If you want a Defender to get muddy, you can buy a brand-new one for about £60k. And it’ll come with heated seats, cupholders, and a warranty.

No, this is about nostalgia. About being part of an ultra-exclusive club of ten owners who can say, “Mine’s the one inspired by Winston.” It’s about heritage, theatre, and the joy of driving something that makes absolutely no sense, but in the most wonderful way.

Because yes, it’s absurd. It’s also glorious.

Final thoughts

The Land Rover Defender Churchill Edition is not for the faint-hearted, the financially cautious, or indeed anyone with common sense. It’s for people who think history deserves horsepower, who like their leather expensive and their metaphors mixed, and who don’t mind explaining why their car has a champagne clock.

Churchill once said, “Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to continue that counts.” If he were around today, he might add: “And if you’re going to continue, you may as well do it in a V8 Defender.”