The need for speed

The pursuit of ever greater speeds has always fascinated the motoring world. And while in the modern age, blinding acceleration off the mark is one of the most often quoted vehicle statistics, back in the halcyon days of Grand Prix racing in the 1930s, top speed was prized as much as winning races.

The the battle for speed was as much about national pride as it was about engineering, with Germany, Britain, and Italy each offering up their own contenders. At the centre of this furious decade of innovation stood Auto Union, the forebear of today’s Audi, with its radical mid-engined racers and a laser-like drive to go faster than anyone had ever gone before. As a result, by the mid-1930s, Auto Union had established itself as one of the frontrunners and under the guidance of engineer Ferdinand Porsche, the company developed the Auto Union Type A, B and C Grand Prix cars. 

Astonishingly advanced for their time, they featured mid-engine layouts with huge, supercharged V16 engines delivering over 500 horsepower (373kW in today’s money), and aerodynamics more reminiscent of missiles than cars.

It was in one these silver bullets, or Silver Arrows, as cars of the era came to be known, that Hans Stuck set several world records on Berlin’s famed Avus Track. Driving an Auto Union Type A, Stuck set records over a range of distances, reaching speeds of over 150mph (241km/h).

It was after these record-breaking runs in 1934 that the Auto Union racing department began developing an all-new vehicle to further push the limits in their quest for maximum velocity. For the ‘Lucca Car’ as it would come to be known, Auto Union used the wind tunnel at the Aeronautical Testing Institute in Berlin-Adlershof to arrive at the unique shape, which was like an aircraft without wings. 

It was presented at the Avus on December 17, 1934, where racing director Willy Walb conducted initial test drives with the car which was dubbed the ‘Racing Limousine’ by the automotive press of the time.

Powered by a 4951cc V16 mid-engine, it produced 343 horsepower (255kW) at 4,700 rpm and like the Grand Prix Type A car, its five-speed transmission was mounted behind the pendulum axle, which was guided and sprung by a transverse leaf spring. With a curb weight just over one tonne including the driver, the car reached a top speed of 320km/h.

Originally, record attempts with the new vehicle were planned to take place in Gyon, Hungary, under arrangements made with the Royal Hungarian Automobile Club. But, after two test runs on February 6, poor weather forced the the team to leave Hungary and head south toward Milan. When the Autostrada Bergamo-Brescia also proved unsuitable for record attempts, the Auto Union racing management decided to relocate 300km further south to a section of the Florence-Viareggio Autostrada near Lucca (hence the name).

A five-kilometre stretch of road between Pescia and Altopascio was selected for attempts at 1km and 1 mile records, each with a flying start.

At the start of 1935, Hans Stuck took the unusual car to a speed of 326.975 km/h, making it the ‘fastest road racing car in the world’. In all, it broke 26 world records and 13 international class records. 

That car laid the groundwork for what would come next. By 1937, Auto Union’s engineers had delved deeper in aerodynamics to make the most of the massive output of the engines. They developed a new body over the chassis of the Type C Grand Prix car – a low, tapering form designed by Josef Mickl, Porsche’s aerodynamicist. The result was a gleaming silver projectile known simply as the Streamliner.

Where the Lucca Car looked somewhat ungainly, the Streamliner was smooth and futuristic. At its heart was the 6.0-litre V16 from the Type C, supercharged and tuned to a ferocious 560 horsepower. 

Power was transmitted through a five-speed gearbox to the rear wheels, which were enclosed to reduce drag. The cockpit was sealed beneath a teardrop-shaped canopy, with the driver peering through narrow Perspex slits. 

The man chosen to tame it was Bernd Rosemeyer – an aviator turned racing driver and one of the most fearless talents of his generation. Rosemeyer had an uncanny ability to drive cars that terrified others. His wife, Elly Beinhorn, a celebrated aviator herself, often said that her husband seemed most alive when balancing between control and chaos. And that was exactly what the Streamliner demanded.

Although the famed record attempt in early 1938 would ultimately end in tragedy, the achievements of the day remain extraordinary. On what was a new stretch of autobahn between Frankfurt and Darmstadt, Rosemeyer recorded an incredible 429km/h in the Streamliner on his first run. 

In the run that would ultimately take his life, Rosemeyer was doing over 440km/h when the car was hit by the crosswind that unsettled it it to a point where it broke traction and was sent into the fatal spin.

A national tragedy, the record attempt was nevertheless a technical marvel. The Streamliner had reached speeds that would not be surpassed on public roads for half a century, changing the very perception of what was possible at the very limits.

Today, when you see Audi’s modern concept cars or the teardrop-smooth contours of its e-tron prototypes, you can trace their lineage directly back to those 1930s experiments. The obsession with aerodynamics, the balance of innovation and aesthetics, even the company’s four interlinked rings – all have their roots in Auto Union’s relentless pursuit of speed. The very essence of Vorsprung durch Technik.