Ещё интереснее выглядит рассказ участника гонки - Сэмми Дэвиса. Он позаимствован из его книги
Motor Racing 1932 года издания.
1921 - THE FIRST BIG RACE IN ENGLAND
PROSPECTS of real racing, as distinct from trials and -records, in 1914 were distinctly brighter. For one thing, the R.A.C. commenced preparations for a i|-litre race in the Isle of Man, news of which considerably elated everyone who had been driving in road trials, as well as those who had made their names at the track, the road trial drivers particularly, because the manufacturers of cars which they had driven in competitions showed signs of being interested.
Thus, directly through trials, since this was previous even to my record attempts described in the last chapter, I at last attained to my first road racing car, an A.C., one of three which S. C. Westall, A. Noble, and myself were to handle, though coming events, had we known it, were to cut short our hopes. Certainly that car looked odd, though never for a moment would we admit it. The front wheels were well out on a wide front axle, the rear wheels close in on a much narrower axle ; the machine, in other words, was crab-tracked. In front was a high radiator, quite unlike that of the conventional A.C., which the other details of the chassis closely followed ; but there was a streamline tail in which sat the fuel tank, and the handle of a big air pump stuck out from the instrument board invitingly.
We watched the beginnings of those cars every minute that could be spared, we fretted when the Calthorpes 01 more normal design were on the road long before our machines were recognizable, and then one day the first car stood in the works, run in, so they said, and ready for test. Anyhow, it made a most satisfactory noise, so Westall and I, narrowly missing the doorposts to show the necessary dash, went off to the track. Alas, our much desired car seemed deader than the proverbial mutton, slower than the ordinary sports models. One or two tentative experiments revealed a considerable weakness in the brakes and—black moment—a burst at full throttle completely eliminated a big-end bearing. Terribly chastened, we took the car back, to be assured that all would yet be well, though the atmosphere was critical.
Thefl a man we had never heard of shot another man, equally remote, in a country that we dimly considered to be mostly inhabited by brigands. The thing, one thought, was a nuisance, perhaps, but nothing more. Unfortunately the victim was an Austrian Archduke, big headlines announced unbelievable happenings, and before one could understand quite what it was all about, the whole of Europe was on the brink of war.
Well I remember the last Brooklands meeting, when suddenly it seemed that England w as involved. Of that meeting I saw not a single race, but, walking alone towards the aeroplane sheds, I tried to think things out. All hopes of a T.T. race in the Isle of Man had vanished, people almost talked in whispers, it was as though the coming tragedy had thrown its shadow over all. Thus, though we only realized it dimly, our world came to an end, another quite different life began.
This is no place in which to discuss the war. It suffices to say that when, very much the worse for wear, I found myself miraculously to have survived, I had learned many things, not least of them a new basis for judging life and death, and had realized the astounding bravery of ordinary men once in uniform, knowing full well that the lives of others depended on their personal efforts.
Towards the end, I once more met W. O. Bentley, with the result that we spent what seemed a lifetime on the development of the BR i and BR 2 rotary aero engines, first at Gwynne's, Chiswick, and then at Humber's, Coventry, and I came to know " W. O.", as we always call him, very well indeed until I cracked up entirely and went to live in hospital. Much was to spring, however, from the friendship that developed in those few months, and, had I known it, one stage more towards the desired goal had been passed.
After the war things were, somehow, very different. Like everyone else, I had lost too many friends to feel the same, among them were practically the whole of my family, Bowes-Scott, the " Fatty " with whom so much was to have been done, and my father, without whose enthusiasm it was difficult not to be despondent.
But once racing restarted, it was better than ever before, everybody having a mass of superfluous energy to work off and being only too anxious to do it, in season or out.
Anyhow, the Junior Car Club, a body that had made its name with the South Harting Hill-Climb and a general efficiency trial calculated to wreck practically any car, however good, suddenly announced a 200 Miles Race on Brooklands track for any car with an engine capacity of not more than i| litres. The proposition rather took one's breath away, for though nothing could exceed the enthusiasm of that club, the race seemed a gigantic proposition, and big races hitherto had been solely affairs for the R.A.C. In practice, the committee went about shivering with apprehension, yet delighted with the idea, while every driver in the land commenced forthwith to search for a car.
In this I was lucky, for A.C. decided to run, and the team of five was based on the 1914 "?quipe", slightly altered, as B. A. Davy of Claudel-Hobson's joined W. G. Brownsort and myself, with G. C. Stead, and a works driver, H. C. Munday, added. John Weller had decided to build three machines of a new type, running two normal racing cars of the pattern that had already proved themselves in competition at the track.
The new cars, when we saw the drawings during a solemn conference at the works, really were extremely promising, being based on a very fast little single-seater with which W. G. Hawker had already done well, their chief point being that the chassis was designed as part of a very pretty streamline body, whereas usually the body has to be thought out afterwards to suit an existing chassis. Moreover, the engines were mostly aluminium alloy, the gear boxes provided four speeds, and the crab-track was retained, that is the rear wheel track was narrower than the front. They were cars typical of John Weller, and I still think that they would have done exceptionally well had they been ready. Unfortunately, that was the one thing they were not, although everybody worked like galley slaves, showing the utmost enthusiasm.
Mine I drove from the works two days before the race, and had to take it back at once as the water-pump gland was leaking and the water ran into the base chamber, where it did the oil no good at all. A night's work at high pressure, several hours' steady running-in, and the leak began again. More feverish work, then more running-in, and this time to the leak was added clutch slip and a strong suspicion that the contact-maker cam—the engine had battery ignition—was slipping.
It was the day before the race, all three of the new cars were in trouble, there was nothing for it but to work all night ; fortunately, the shed in the little paddock had electric light. We worked nearly all night, stopped the leak with bran, strengthened the clutch springs all we could, and, since the car could not be tried on the track, tested the clutch by jumping hard on the starting handle with the engine in gear.
There was only one redeeming feature in the situation. Most other people were in trouble too, as tinkering noises and profanity amply proved in shed after shed ; but away on the Byfleet side silence and contentment reigned where the three Talbot-Darracqs were housed.
That night, quite rightly driven away by Weller, the drivers had a few hours' troubled sleep, the mechanics none at all, and next morning, as the crowds invaded the paddock and enclosures, we were still unready, or at least my car was, for we got the last bolt into the bracket holding the exhaust pipe under the supervision of no less a person than S. F. Edge, just as the cars were marshalled to go up to the start.
That start was extremely exciting. The competing machines were arranged in three lines, with the 1,100 c.c. cars in front. At the fall of the flag the first line went away, the second took its place and was immediately dispatched, the third line conformed to the movement until it, too, went away. Consequently, a mass of cars shot away in clouds of smoke, two other lines moved a length, then stopped ; a fractional interval and another mass roared off, the third line moved a length and stopped ; then, with barely a pause, they too dashed away. It was entirely successful and extremely dangerous.
Waiting in the second line, half asphyxiated by fumes and blinded by clouds of smoke, I was considering what would happen if the man in front had reverse instead of first in mesh, wondering also whether our new set of racing plugs could possibly stand all this without oiling. Immense volumes of smoke and a terrible noise showed me that the first line was off, we moved up one, I could just see Ebblewhite's red flag, it dropped, an avalanche of cars went off, we did not ; with the engine screaming, we remained stationary—the clutch was playing the fool ! I switched off, and pulled at the rear tyre my side to turn the wheel, the car crept away, I switched on, opened up gently, and lo, we had started ; but the cold fury of that moment remains, and the fear that we should be rammed by the third wave.
Then, for three laps, we went well, in and out among cars of all sizes, some already in trouble, some doing their best, and for the space of one lap we clung to the tail of a Talbot-Darracq, I think it was " Bill " Guinness' car !
On the fourth lap a cylinder cut out ; I thought " plug " and my mechanic agreed, so to the pit we went, there to discover that it was not a plug, but that a huge piece had broken away from one valve and gone through the piston.
By this time I was desperate. I told the team chief that the car was going on, cylinder or no cylinder, until it flew to pieces. This it very nearly did, for though we went surprisingly fast considering that the engine could only use three cylinders, the clutch slipped every time we came to the rise for the home banking, and on four separate occasions the clutch shaft, which had a sliding joint, slid out of engagement and had to be rammed home by my unfortunate mechanic, while time did nothing to improve what remained of the engine.
Meantime, in beautiful order at equal intervals, line ahead, Segrave, Guinness, and Malcolm Campbell went by with the Talbot-Darracqs holding a lap speed of at least ninety m.p.h., Vizcaya and Mones Maury in pursuit with the little Brescia Bugattis, but at considerably less speed, while in the 1,100 c.c. class E. B. Ware's Morgan led Lombard's Salmson and that exceedingly cheery sportsman, A. Frazer Nash, in a G.N.
For us, struggling along as best we could, the race was full of incidents, as first Kensington-Moir's Aston-Martin, just after passing, gushed fuel all over the track, the axle having hit the tank, then M. C. Topping who, with J. Leno, in stupendous yellow overalls, as mechanic, was driving a very tiny Peugeot, got into quite serious trouble, awful noises and, apparently, a perfect shower of bits and pieces, giving dire evidence that the engine had had enough of phenomenal revolutions for the day. They had started, it seems, with a temporary lubrication system, in which Leno poured oil down a tube, carried from what had been a crank-case breather to the dash !
Now and then Stead and Brownsort passed, going well with the older type side-valve cars of our team, and exchanged meaning grimaces ; an awful clatter came from a Bleriot-Whippet on occasions ; and, once, I saw Lombard charge the pits, to the considerable detriment of his Salmson's wheels. Friends went by grimly hanging on to the Talbot-Darracqs ; other friends we passed doing exciting things with red-hot metal ; and for quite a time I had a great fight with Pradier's crippled Charron-Laycock, which was faster than we were before the wind but slower against it, so that we passed and re-passed for lap after lap, and, I regret to say, one mechanic put his tongue out at the other.
The pace was telling none the less. Brownsort was observed to be changing a radiator, and commenting caustically on affairs in general to his aggrieved pit manager ; Davy's car appeared stationary, having seized its camshaft ; the team, barring Stead, seemed completely out of luck. Then my mechanic spotted the underscreen of a car upside down in the ditch below die Byfleet banking, and simultaneously I saw the ambulance driving away. Deeply intrigued, we came down close to the inner edge to have a look-see, and were appalled to discover that it was one of our own cars, Munday's, which had burst a tyre and crashed. At the time neither of us knew why the car had turned over, which awoke forthwith unpleasant speculations as to the possible cause. Was it the steering, for instance, or had something important broken which might happen to our own mount any moment, a thoroughly unsatisfactory train of thought causing involuntary uprising of the hair ! Moreover, kind friends made ominous signs with their thumbs whenever we and they passed the wreck.
And so the afternoon wore on. Segrave, followed by Guinness and then by Campbell, whose car had lost a tyre earlier on, came over the finishing line, still in perfect order, though it was five laps before the winner, who had averaged 88-82 m.p.h., could be stopped, and then only by frantically waving a bottle at him from the pits. Frazer Nash, having disposed of the Morgan and the Salmson, won the 1,100 c.c. class at 71'54 m.p.h. Cheering and excitement was audible from the pits, the crowd forsook the railings, the sun showed signs of disappearing, too, and still we went on going round, the car making extraordinary noises.
Our pit packed up, everybody packed up, we went on until, just when we could see a chance of finishing, they opened the enclosure gates and let touring cars pour across the track to the exit gates. We stopped ; no more notice was taken of us than when we had been going, I became quite certain that I had been sitting on the nut of a shock absorber arm, a thing which had seemed likely for the last hour. I was very black and very thirsty, so was my mechanic. For all the chances there were of getting a drink it might have been the Sahara, nothing wTould induce the engine to start again ; there we were, entirely alone. Pushing the car to the vacant pit, we left it there, made our way to the paddock, had a good wash and a huge tea. I saw Jarrott, who had been a spectator, and explained ; he said that we could have done no more, I felt more satisfied.
Apart from anything else, I was exceedingly glad that Segrave had won, for he and I had discussed plans for future advancement when we met by accident at Jarrott and Letts, where Segrave, then unknown, was busy with a Brescia Bugatti, and our ideas and enthusiasms tallied. Segrave himself was not only a born racing driver, but, which was far less common, possessed a real personality, an intense enthusiasm, and knew exactly what to do and what to say in any situation at home or abroad. In France he fitted in exactly with the French tradition, in America he said and did just the right thing automatically. Never man earned a knighthood more fittingly, and though men in future may drive faster or win more races, they can never hope to detract one iota from De Hane's wonderful name, because the basis of that name was not so much what he did as the way he did it.
But leaving Segrave for the present, this, the first long distance race in England, was an immense success, and started the long series of events which have done more to train our drivers than anything else.
Fired by the success of the first "200", the Junior Car Club made this race an annual event until 1928, Talbot-Darracq winning in 1922, 1924, 1925 and 1926—every race in which they ran—with cars that were genuine racing machines from their inception on the drawing-board, and therefore considerably more suitable for this race than any of their rivals, all of which were practically sports cars converted into racing form. There was a certain ironic humour about the 1923 race, since the Anglo-French " marque " decided not to run when Fiat came over with two new and beautiful racing cars. That these would win seemed almost certain, but some little devil of mischief prompted the team to arrange that whichever driver led at the end of so many laps was to lead if he could for the rest of the race.
That naturally resulted in the world's finest dog-fight between the two cars, in the course of which I think somehow that rev. limits were probably forgotten, and, as a very natural result, the two cars " burst " each other, as two equally fast and identical machines usually do in the circumstances. The moral of that convinced even the uninitiated that a proper team order, such as Talbot-Darracq always arranged, was the only wise plan, however much it might not appeal to those who could only understand a race as a sporting affair between rival drivers.
As a matter of fact, a team order is absolutely necessary, but the chief of a team is wise if he arranges for each driver in turn to have his chance to win, rather than to have one star driver who always has preference against two rather less experienced men.
In that race, incidentally, artificial corners were formed on the track for the first time, and drivers' skill was immediately made obvious. Two things were against the " 200 "—the fact that the same make of car nearly always won, and the fact that the largest engine allowed was of 11 litres capacity, for people became tired of making " noises off " for the Talbot-Darracqs, and the supply of i|-litre racing cars dwindled.
In 1922, by the way, the R.A.C. revived the Tourist Trophy in the Isle of Man, but elected to accept only three-litre racing cars, with the unhappy result that only eight cars started, in the usual downpour ; but the race was particularly interesting to me because the first Bentley team of three-litre cars was running, driven by W. O. Bentley, Clement, and Hawkes, and I had, as it were, been behind the scenes while the Bentley grew, from an idea W. O. and I used to discuss almost daily, into a real car at last.
