1933 Le Mans

1933 — Depression be damned; Le Mans received 42 entries for the 11th edition of le ronde infernal. Of those, Prince Nicholas of Rumania had most obviously failed to understand the sea change that saw control of the Grand Prix d’Endurance – the race for overall victory -- pass from the Bentley-Mercedes-Stutz behemoths into the hands of true sports cars. One such – the elegant ALFA Romeo 8C2300 – had scored simultaneous victories from its Le Mans debut. The Count entered a massive 6.9-liter Duesenberg, which earned him the number “two" and a place near the head of the line for his gargantuan dohc straight-eight American torque-monster.

Further proof that the days of the noble amateur and his giant beast were numbered was the entry of Tazio Nuvolari (pictured above in his grand prix car), then considered the greatest living race driver. The diminutive Mantuan was paired with Raymond Sommer, who had won the previous year's Grand Prix d’Endurance, driving all but four hours in one of the proven 8C2300s to present themselves for the rigors of A.C.O. scrutineering.

At four o’clock, the A.C.O. dispensed with the established yellow flag start, and Col. Lindsay Lloyd dropped the French tricolour freeing 29 drivers from their little numbered circles. The first five Alfas moved almost simultaneously, and the grand prix under the Champion Bridge was led by the No. 13 Brian Lewis ALFA 8C2300.

By the time they got to Arnage, Sommer had gone to the front and led the first lap in just under six minutes (85mph) from a standing start. Behind Sommer and Louis Chiron, Prince Nicholas and Trevoux were engaged in a stirring battle of the dinosaurs with the vast No. 5 Bentley getting the better of the Romanian’s twin-can Duesenberg. Sommer ran his load of fuel to 27 laps – three past the minimum required by new A.C.O. rules – before pitting for petrol. As his fuel load lightened, he left the lap record at just under 90mph, then handed over to Nuvolari at the three-hour mark.

Then the No. 5 Bentley crashed hard at Mulsanne on its out lap, further reducing the field to 26 cars. The disqualification of the No. 2 Duesenberg during the sixth hour was profoundly unpopular with the huge and otherwise cheerful crowd. The A.C.O. ultimately discovered that the American giant had been refueled hours earlier after only 23 laps. And that was one short of the required number. But officials had allowed the Count to race for hours before the disqualification. There was no explanation given for the huge delay and, after delivering the bad news, the officials disappeared into the dark.

As Saturday became Sunday, the red and beige 8C2300 Sommer/Nuvolari ALFA still had a cozy two-lap lead from the ALFAs of Chiron and Franco Cortese, Luigi Chinetti and Varent and the very British ALFA team of Brian Lewis and T.E. Rose-Richards. The first and only chink in ALFA’s armor came with the 1:00 a.m. retirement of Guy Moll’s ALFA on its 78th lap.

By the bleary halfway point at 4:00 a.m., it looked like an ALFA rout, with Sommer and Nuvolari in a seemingly unassailable lead. Dawn changed everything. Nuvolari pitted with a wrinkled fender and fuel leaking from the tank, solid evidence of a spin. Sommer and a mechanic mended the leak as best they could, and the 1932-winner returned to the course but – for the first time in 15 hours – out of the lead. Chiron had eased the No. 8 car into first place during Nuvolari’s stop, but a pit stop on the next hour allowed Chinetti’s ALFA in front. Sommer was third, and ALFAs still held the top four positions despite an all-numerical rearrangement.

Near the end of the 16th hour, Chinetti appeared with Chiron seemingly attached to the leading ALFA. It took the Frenchman nearly the rest of the lap to get back out front. Once past he left Sommer’s ex-co-driver a half-mile behind. At the 17th hour, word reached the pits that Mademoiselle Siko’s ALFA had crashed heavily between Mulsanne and Arnage.

The 1.8-liter ALFA was nearly at top speed when it cut down two trees and fetched up against a third sawing it in half as well. The ALFA was unrecognizable save the radiator bearing the large number “20" near the wreckage. A fast trip to the hospital revealed that her injuries were miraculously slight and generally cosmetic.

By 8:00 a.m., Nuvolari had moved the No. 11 car into second place on the same lap with the leading Cortese ALFA. A half-hour later, the Mantuan was alongside Cortese’s No. 15 as the ALFA twins howled past the pits. By the time he had to pit, Nuvolari had padded his lead to 30sec. The scheduled pit stop midway through the 17th hour surrendered those 30sec and 10 more, but a fresh Sommer was in full attack mode. The pressure got to Cortese in the esses before White House and a lurid and fan-pleasing spin deranged the right front fender and suspension. This momentary intemperance allowed not only Sommer to pass for the lead but promoted Chinetti to second.

For the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon, Sommer and Nuvolari led nervously. The fender, bent by Nuvolari during the night, required repeated attention and the fuel tank continued to leak with no permanent remedy. Their chief tormentor, Chinetti, was running regularly with no apparent problems and nothing to loose.

With less than three hours remaining, Nuvolari pitted and was passed by Chinetti almost instantly. Gambling, and infected with competitive hormones, Nuvolari made no attempt to staunch the expanding fuel leak and tore away after Chinetti and the lead. Once ahead, the board went out ordering him to pit for repairs. One lap later, Nuvolari was in and the leak was minimized. And the countdown to the 24th-lap-refueling stop commenced somewhat nervously.

The crystal moment came with 45min remaining. Nuvolari pitted and reached for his tools. Chinetti roared past. Nuvolari reconsidered and jumped into the ALFA. In less than a lap, he was leading again. With just eight minutes to go, Nuvolari was in the pits once more and – once more – was repassed by Chinetti.

There was not enough time before 4:00 o’clock for two laps. It was now or never, and that was a Nuvolari specialty. The two ALFAs swapped the lead three times on the last fraught lap. There had never been a Le Mans like it. Then Chinetti missed a gear change near Arnage and left the road briefly. Nuvolari was past and gone, but Chinetti got going again and reduced the margin at the finish to an astonishing 10sec, the closest in Le Mans history. The No. 11 Sommer/Nuvolari ALFA had swept the results, and Sommer had set a record fastest lap. They had even broken Le Mans’ 3000km barrier with an average speed of 81.336mph.

Nuvolari even got a congratulatory telegram from Italy’s and most famous ALFA-Romeo owner and fan.

While Le Mans matured through the early years of the Depression, Grand Prix racing shivered and stumbled. Nuvolari won the Belgian GP at Spa on a Maserati just three weeks after Le Mans.

In September, Nuvolari was second to Luigi Fagioli’s ALFA at Monza. He spent the night sitting with the widows of Giuseppe Campari and Baconin Borzacchini, both of whom had died that afternoon on racing’s blackest day. Motorsport and the entire European political scene were changing. There were new rules for Grand Prix racing due to take effect on January 1, 1934, that would slow the new cars and make them safer. The new German Chancellor liked the language of the latest formula and announced a generous government bonus for successful domestic racecar builders.

The A.C.O. saw a bright future racing production cars and acted accordingly. They created plans for new modern pits with high-capacity, overhead refueling rigs to accommodate up to 60 cars, and plotted the rapid technological improvement of the sports and grand touring car. Their eastern and southern neighbors brewed far more elaborate plots and built grand prix cars to promote somewhat different, less practical automotive and social goals.