When
Britain stood alone in Western Europe against the might of the Wehrmacht in the
early 1940s, it was confronting an array of fearsome technology. On paper, the German fighting machines were
superior to those of the Allies – the Messerschmitt 262; Tiger tank; the Mk.11
U-boat; for example. Later in the
decade, as a consortium of the British automotive industry began to plan a new
racing car, there lingered, despite the Allied victory, perhaps a little too
much reverence for German engineering.
Although the 1938-9 versions of the Auto Union Grand Prix cars had
utilised 3.0 V12 engines, the predecessor types with their V16s – up to 6000 cc
in capacity – clearly left an immense impression. Sufficient at any rate for the nascent
British Racing Motors team to decide that its engine would be in such a format,
albeit of just 1.5 litre capacity.
Starting from scratch and in the austere economic climate, this could
nowadays be classed as an act of self-harm: surely there would have been more
chance of success – and less heartache – if a Vee or Straight 8 layout had been
chosen.
The
BRM V16 P15 made its (unsuccessful) race debut in 1950 and was campaigned for
five years with very few encouraging – let alone, triumphant – showings. And it was a further seven years before a BRM
– the V8-powered P578 in the hands of Graham Hill – was able to win the World
Championship. Building on that base, the
Sixties could perhaps have been a decade of success for BRM, but the complexity
compulsion struck again. For the new 3
litre formula in 1966, the team opted to build another 16 cylinder engine. And to compound any potential vicissitudes,
this was configured in an ‘H’ format – two vertically stacked flat eights. While a flat – or ‘boxer’ layout has the
advantage of enabling a low centre of gravity in the car being powered, the ‘H’
form gave rise to the very reverse, as well as being relatively heavy. The
result? – an extremely uncompetitive car – the P83 - with a very unreliable
engine.
With
over twenty years, characterised in the main by failure, under its belt, BRM in
1969 looked to inject some fresh, innovation-inclined blood into its
veins. 29 year old Tony Southgate was
appointed as the team’s designer.
Southgate arrived at BRM’s base, in Bourne, Lincolnshire, as a proven
success, having spent time in the U.S., creating and developing winning cars
for Dan Gurney’s All American Racers team.
But Southgate immediately made a grave mistake – he designed and oversaw
construction of a new Formula 1 car – the P153 – in a very short period of
time, enabling it to be ready for the start of the new, 1970, Grand Prix
season. The BRM management was also
guilty of an error at this point – instead of focusing all resources on the
P153, it decided that the marque should branch out and make a car for the
Can-Am Challenge sportscar series. And
just to compound any potential vicissitudes – sound familiar? –
Southgate was granted very little time to design it; well, he had, after all,
created the P153 very quickly, had he not?
Perhaps
the BRM management swiftly came to see that attention to the Can-Am car would
be to the detriment of the Formula 1 programme.
Very well, they devised a solution: ship the Can-Am car, unfinished, out to the U.S. and shake it down/develop it over there: of course,
that was very much to the detriment of the Can-Am programme!
The
Can-Am BRM, was designated model P154.
Built to the largely ‘formula libre’ Group 7 regulations governing the
Can-Am, Southgate’s design was conventional.
Interestingly this approach was in marked contrast to that of the Shadow
team to which he would eventually move.
In trying to break McLaren’s stranglehold on the Challenge, Shadow
fielded a remarkably compact, ultra-low frontal area design for 1970. Southgate’s P154 was a straightforward
aluminium monocoque powered by a 7.6 litre Chevrolet big block V8 engine. Whilst the standards-setting McLaren M8Ds,
and most other runners, ran rear wings, (in some instances in conjunction with
fences), the P154 relied on its rear bodywork contours for downforce. The configuration’s development was initially
informed by testing a scale model in the wind tunnel of Imperial College in
London. Finalisation followed testing of
the car itself at MIRA.
P154 Design drawing. Courtesy of Tony Southgate
Straightaway,
fundamental problems arose and would haunt the P154’s potential for
success. At that time, wind tunnels
usually lacked a moving floor and thus the test data derived had limited
relevance to ‘real world’ conditions.
Additionally, Southgate’s basic concept of the car embraced track dimensions
well beyond the chassis width by the use of 19 inch rear tyres – but the
anticipated supply from Firestone did not materialise, and the car had to be
raced on 17 inch covers.
A
contemporary feature in Autosport, 11 June 1970, reported that, ‘the
first car will be ready for the opening round (Mosport) this weekend.’ Only just – it did not run for the first time
until the day before the race. Contracted
to drive was George Eaton, a Canadian who had first competed in the Can-Am in
1966 in a Shelby Cobra, in various McLarens, 1967-9, and who had been given
occasional Grands Prix outings in the P138 and P139. George was a scion of the family that had established
and then run Canada’s most prominent retailing business for 100 years. Though wealth was certainly no bar to his
racing activities, George was no mediocre pay-driver. He had nine podiums to his name prior to the
1970 season, achieved in the Can-Am and USRRC series. Moreover, he had placed second in the final
round of the 1969 Can-Am series in Texas.
George Eaton, June 1970. Courtesy of Dick Darrell
But
the 1970 series didn’t start well for George or BRM. At the Mosport round, run on 14 June, George
was out on lap 33 with transmission trouble.
For the team there was some consolation in the fact that the car had
qualified seventh of 28 entries – not bad for first time out – and BRM’s
design/engineering was not to blame for the retirement: given the truncated
design/development timescale, Southgate had opted to utilise the ubiquitous
Hewland 4 speed gearbox.
Two
weeks on, round 2 was run at Mont-Tremblant.
Qualifying seemed to represent a backward step because, although only 22
cars practised, George’s best time was good enough only for ninth on the
grid. However, the race proved to be the
team’s highlight of the season with George finishing in third. But if he felt at all euphoric on the podium,
that would to some extent derive from something he could not then know: he
would retire in all eight of the remaining races.
Best
qualifying performances of the season came at Road Atlanta and Donnybrooke,
where George started fifth on the grid.
At Road Atlanta he also got the furthest into a race, not being forced
to retire until lap 49, when the engine blew up. However, a broken rocker put paid to his race
at Donnybrooke with only one lap completed.
Particularly disappointing events were Road America, where overheating
prevented George from starting, and Riverside, a practice accident this time
leaving the P154 unfit to make the grid.
George at Watkins Glen, July 1970. Courtesy of Rich Martin
By
the latter part of the season, a second car had been completed and this was
entered for Pedro Rodriguez to drive in rounds 9 and 10. On face value Pedro did much better than
George, but this was mainly because his car proved reliable. At Laguna Seca George outqualified Pedro,
(eighth and ninth, respectively).
Nevertheless, Pedro made it to the line in fifth at Laguna, and in
seventh at Riverside. Southgate himself
recounts: After coming third at Riverside, he (Rodriguez) told me it
was the worst car he’d ever driven. That really embarrassed me. He was always
so brave and uncomplaining, so it must have been really bad.
BRM
could not have been blamed if it had concluded that Group 7 was best left to
other constructors. However, perhaps
buoyed by the promise his P153 Grand Prix car had shown in 1970, BRM prevailed
upon Southgate to create a successor to the P154. This he did, taking care to address key
weaknesses that had dogged the P154’s handling, opting for a longer wheelbase
and with improved frontal aerodynamics and a conventional rear wing. The resulting P167 was run in both the
European Interserie and the Can-Am in 1971.
The Can-Am operation was handled for BRM by Sid Taylor Racing. Drivers Howden Ganley and Brian Redman saw
little success and both finished only once in points-scoring positions, Ganley
third at Riverside and Redman fourth at Laguna Seca.
Compounding
the generally downbeat nature of the saga of BRM’s Can-Am initiative, two other
circumstances have to be mentioned. A P167
was allocated for Pedro Rodriguez to drive at an Interserie race at the
Norisring on 11 July. However, during
preparation of the car, the engine sustained damage while on the dynamometer. With rectification impossible in the
available timeframe, the race entry was cancelled. Rodriguez, still keen on the event, accepted
an offer from Herbert Muller to drive his Ferrari 512M. On lap 12 a tyre came off the rim, sending
the car into a barrier and wall, and then across the track. Coming to rest, it caught fire. Pedro died in hospital shortly after, with a
fractured skull and burns cited as cause of death.
Happily,
George Eaton finished his driving career in good health, in 1972. Less happily, he replaced that activity with
involvement in the family business, becoming the last Eaton to
assume the role of CEO. Although there
was much change in retailing to challenge traditional businesses like the Eaton
organisation in the latter part of the twentieth century, it is commonly held
that the management expertise of George and the family members of his father’s generation
was poor, resulting in a steady decline of profitability. Indeed, profitability had become a distant memory
when George saw no alternative to resignation in 1997. Two years later his successor was compelled
to file for the firm’s bankruptcy.
