125 years of Mercedes motorsportMAY 2019 | CARMAGAZINE.CO.UK 123Seaman was buried in Putney Vale cemetery, south-west London. The
well-tended grave is still there. For years, Mercedes paid for its upkeep.
Tall, lean, Rugby- and Cambridge-educated, Seaman was the upper-
class Englishman who drove and won for the Nazis. Keen to promote
German superiority and to pioneer new automotive technology, Hitler
enthusiastically embraced Grand Prix racing. In 1934, just after coming
to power, he backed two teams: long established Mercedes-Benz and
newcomer Auto Union (now Audi).
The ensuing Silver Arrows, named after their unpainted aluminium
bodywork, dominated Grand Prix racing from 1934 until the outbreak of
war in 1939. Part funded by the Nazis and overseen by Hitler’s motorsport
flunky Korpsführer Adolf Hühnlein, the two German teams invested
millions of Reichsmarks to produce the fastest and most technically pro-
gressive racing cars of their day. With Hitler’s patronage and Nazi money,
their German drivers became national heroes.
A few talented Ausländer were also courted. Better to have them
winning in a German car than achieving victory in something made in
Italy, France or Britain. One such foreign driver was Dick Seaman.
Seaman joined Mercedes in 1937, after success in ERAs, Delages, Alfas
and Maseratis. His appointment was approved by the Führer in February
- He was aware of the controversy of joining a German team. His
reasoning was simple: he was a racing driver and wanted to win. Mercedes
and Auto Union were the best teams and their Silver Arrows were fastest.
He did win, most famously at the 1938 German Grand Prix at the
Nürburgring. In front of more than 300,000 home fans, Seaman’s
Mercedes W154 unexpectedly beat the local heroes von Brauchitsch
(whose car caught fire in the pits while in the lead), Lang, Caracciola,
Stuck, Müller and Hasse. The most famous photo of Seaman sees him on
the podium that day (24 July 1938), hair slicked back, goggles around his
neck, looking proud but pensive, hand raised in a half-hearted Nazi salute.
There is a massive swastika-adorned laurel wreath around his neck. ‘I wish
it had been a British car,’ he later whispered to a UK reporter.
It was the first win by a British driver in a major Grand Prix since
Sir Henry Segrave won the 1923 French GP in a Sunbeam. It also
presented Korpsführer Hühnlein, the Nazi head of German motor-
sport, with a headache. How to inform the Führer that the German GP
had been won by an Englishman? ‘My Führer,’ he began. ‘The 11th Grand
Prix of Germany for racing cars ended with a decisive German victory.’
Only at the end of the telegram before the ‘Heil, my Führer’ sign-off was
the identity of the winning driver reluctantly divulged.
That 1938 season was the first for Mercedes’ new W154 racer. A change of
rules that year restricted supercharged engines to 3.0 litres, outlawing the
all-conquering but monstrously fast 5.7-litre supercharged straight-eight
600bhp-plus W125 of 1937. The W125 was the most powerful GP car until
the turbocharged racers of the ’80s and, with special streamliner bodies,
could reach up to 240mph during speed record attempts. In races, it reg-
ularly exceeded 190mph. Its technology for the ’30s was mindblowing, its
speed astonishing.
The W154 was a further step forward. It had a new 3.0-litre supercharged
V12, producing 476bhp at 7800rpm. Highly advanced, it used quad cams
and four valves per cylinder, and was mounted low in the chassis. This
helped give the car its exquisite ground-hugging stance. The propshaft ran
alongside, rather than under, the driver. Its tubular-frame steel chassis was
based on the W125’s but was shorter and lower. It had two fuel tanks owing
to its heavier fuel consumption. It was the first Mercedes-Benz racing car
with a five-speed gearbox. As with the W125, a de Dion rear axle was used to
keep the rear wheels parallel and to improve handling.
Although less powerful than the old W125, it was still a seriously fast car.
In practice for the same Belgian GP in which Seaman was killed, team-
mate Hermann Lang reached 193mph on the long Masta straight.
In essence, the W154 was a beautifully sleek aluminium tube cladding a
massive engine and two big fuel tanks. There are few body panels: most of
the rear section is just one finely crafted piece. Minimal cut lines improved
the aerodynamics and when multiple panels had to be used, the joins were
almost invisible or sealed over.
The W154 was the brainchild of Rudolf (Rudi) Uhlenhaut, who became
Mercedes’ racing technical director in August 1936. That had been a
bad year for Mercedes-Benz: just a couple of wins and regular defeats
at the hands of the arch-rival Auto Unions, which had been designed by
Ferdinand Porsche. A few important races had even been won by Italian
Alfa Romeos (in the hands of the mercurial Tazio Nuvolari), an affront to
German technical superiority. Nuvolari would join Auto Union for the 1938
and 1939 seasons. ⊲Keep the
middle one
pinned and
193mph is on‘IT’S ALL ABOUT BALANCE’
Why even Aston’s design boss swoons over the W154‘The Mercedes W154 is such a
beautiful example of form following
function. It was designed before we
really understood aerodynamics
and the way cars behaved at high
speed and yet it was capable
of over 185mph, was incredibly
successful racing, very reliable- and looked amazing with such
sleek bodywork.
‘This car wasn’t “styled”.
Its singular mission was high
performance. Rudolf Uhlenhaut
[Mercedes’ technical director]
wanted the most simple and pure
solution to the design challenge of
making a fast racing car. He didn’t
think of aesthetics per se – yet it
was aesthetically beautiful.
‘Uhlenhaut really understood
proportion and part of the car’s
beauty is the relationship between
the wheelbase, where the wheels
are placed, and where the driver sits
relative to the chassis. It’s all about
balance. It’s so clean, so simple.
‘The W154 also influenced
subsequent racing cars, road cars
and even aeroplanes. Only later did
we see more universally sculpted
forms and shapes on aeroplanes.
‘Good car design starts with form,
proportion and sculpture. On the
other hand, many car makers today
are going through a period of very
busy and fussy style.
‘I think they try to shout because
they don’t have confidence in
who they are, or what their brand
stands for. They don’t have the
self-assurance to keep their designs
simple, as Uhlenhaut did. That takes
guts. It also takes real design skill.’
Marek Reichman