As I was saying a couple weeks ago in my Daihatsu Compagno post, I found two great CC subjects in one day. The Daihatsu was one, this was the other. The stars aligned for me that day, for while there are a few ‘60s Japanese cars here and there in this country, finding an Italian wartime classic is really not a daily occurrence.
If a car changes hands (or even if it’s just been restored and repainted), the Thai authorities want to know. And if you’re planning to use it on the road, you must go to this place to get an MOT and pay the yearly car tax. This Aprilia was sitting at the same place where I caught a 1964 “Plodge” Valiant a few weeks back. Unlike said (sad?) Valiant, the Lancia had just come out of restoration. The paint, the upholstery, the tyres and most of the brightwork had been thoroughly refreshed.
The owner of the car was there. Although he was quite busy with the Dep’t of Land Transport folks who were looking at various aspects of the car, he did tell me the Lancia’s birth year. Nineteen forty six. Wow. The idea that Italy, a mere two years after it had been invaded from all sides, bombed from above and left politically unstable by a buffoon surrounded by cowards, was able to manufacture a car like this was mind-blowing. It’s hard enough to make cars when things are doing ok, but just imagine how difficult it must have been for Lancia to keep their factories open back then.
The war years were not great for automobile production. As we recently discussed, French car production was cut drastically in 1940 and became infinitesimal from 1941 to 1946. British carmakers halted production during 1940 also (barring a tiny number of VIP staff cars), but recovered quicker than the French after the war. They even started putting car adverts here and there, just to give readers something to look forward to, in 1944. In America, the famous “rump model year” 1942s only lasted for until February, a few weeks after Pearl Harbour. Automobile production ceased for just under four years, though it is rumoured a few 1942-model staff cars might have been put together, largely by hand, after that date.
1943 Alfa Romeo 6C 2500 by PininFarina, made for a German “client”
Automakers based in the Axis powers seem to have had a similar experience, although for a while, Hitler’s policy was to try and keep German civilian life almost unaffected by the war – the guns and butter approach. Though many suspended production after 1940, some German, Austrian and Czech automakers were still making civilian cars in 1941-42. After that, only a few KdFs, armoured Benz or Maybach limousines and Tatra 87s were still made, all VIP-only. In Italy, Alfa Romeo and Fiat continued making a trickle of cars – more as a side-line than anything else – pretty much throughout the war, and the larger carrozzerie were still designing sublime bespoke bodies for very wealthy and well-connected customers. It’s weird to imagine ordering a new sports car in 1943, what with the bombers overhead and both the Germans and the Allies about to invade, but it did happen.
The Italian army ordered around 250 “Typo 539 Coloniale” Aprilias (body by Viotti) in 1940-43
When Italy entered the war mid-1940, civilian production was severely curtailed, but not entirely stopped. A military Aprilia convertible was made, but the car was a bit too complex for extensive Army use. Aprilia Tipo 438 Berlina (standard saloon) production plummeted from 400 units in 1942 to 56 in 1943 and zero in 1944. The Tipo 439 (chassis-only) came back to production in 1945 (86 made, plus one 438 saloon), but standard saloons like our CC only came back to life in 1946. A Tipo 539 Lungo chassis, a 30 cm stretched platform that strangely reverted to a live rear axle setup, was introduced for coachbuilt saloons and wagons. That year, 932 Lancia Aprilia berlinas were made, plus 464 chassis-only versions (LWB included). So it’s rare – the clue was in the model year, really. But much more importantly, it’s also an absolute jewel of advanced automotive engineering.
Paris, 1st of October 1936: the first glimpse of the Aprilia
The Aprilia was a significant car in Lancia’s history for a number of reasons. The first and most obvious one: it was Vincenzo Lancia’s testament, the last model whose development he supervised. The Aprilia was premiered at the Milan Motor Show (after it had been seen in Paris and London) in late October 1936. It is rumoured that Henry Ford, who had a thing for Italian cars, was granted a private after-hours tour of the Parisian show that October, spending most of it ogling the new Lancia. Setting up the Aprilia’s complex assembly line delayed production for a few months. Unfortunately, on the 15th of February 1937, Vincenzo Lancia died of a heart attack aged 55, mere days before the first Aprilias came off the production line.
When the time came to design a new small Lancia to take over from the Augusta, Vincenzo Lancia made a few key decisions. He understood the value of lightness and aerodynamics, especially for smaller cars, so his directives were that the new Lancia should (like its direct predecessor, the Augusta) have an all-steel monocoque, along with the then-obligatory platform/chassis-only version for outside coachbuilders. Particular care was taken to make the monocoque saloon actually aerodynamic: the Aprilia was one of the first cars tested in a wind tunnel and boasts a Cd of 0.47, which is quite good in the ‘30s context (though others did even better).
Vincenzo Lancia famously thought the prototypes were too fast and told his chief engineer Manlio Gracco to limit the production car’s top speed to 125 kph. The Aprilia’s success, which Vincenzo never saw, was due to the car’s highly advanced engineering more than its looks. The trip to the wind tunnel probably dictated the berlina’s hunchback shape, which was somewhat in vogue in the late ‘30s, but appears a bit exaggerated on this particular car. It did allow for a great amount of room inside though, especially now that the chassis was gone.
The suspension was traditional Lancia, meaning completely unlike anything else on the road. The front featured the patented sliding pillar IFS seen on Lancias since the early ‘20s. At the back, a very intriguing mix of torsion bars and transverse leaf spring guided an unusual type of independent suspension, as the differential is bolted to the body and had in-board hydraulic brakes. Yes, it’s a little ahead of the ’37 Ford in terms of technology. And we haven’t even looked under the hood yet.
And under that hood, we find a narrow-angle (18°) single-block all-alloy V4 hemi with a single overhead camshaft, in the Lancia tradition. Originally a 1352cc (46 hp), it was augmented to 1486cc (48 hp) in the summer of 1939, both to improve smoothness and to “make room” for the smaller new 0.9 litre Ardea. Once again, it was very Lancia and very unlike anything else. Seeing our feature car’s engine was a bit shocking – I had never seen an Aprilia’s innards, and it seemed so small, clever and simple.
The Lancia was competitive, but not against this much car…
Lancia tried hard to break into the big market next door — French GDP was three times Italy’s in those days, so it was important to try and make it there. To avoid the 150% import tax (and perhaps influenced by Fiat’s French operations, later known as Simca), a new “Lancia-France” subsidiary was created in 1931 and a factory was built in Bonneuil-sur-Marne to produce the Augusta (renamed “Belna”) 100% locally. This worked well enough until they launched the French-built Aprilia, marketed as the Lancia Ardennes. The Aprilia/Ardennes’ increased complexity meant costs and prices were spiraling ever upward. By 1938, the 1.3 litre Lancia Ardennes cost as much as an aristocratic 2.3 litre Salmson or a huge 6-cyl. 4-litre Renault like the one above – an impossible sell. French production was halted that year, by which time fewer than 700 “Ardennes” had been made.
The T97’s flat-4 only produced 40 hp, but 130 kph top speed thanks to excellent aerodynamics
The Aprilia’s major rival was supposed to be the Citroën Traction Avant – especially in “neutral” markets. They matched quite well in terms of sophistication and size, but not in price or refinement. The Traction was a high-volume car that did not really target the same clientele as Lancia. The same was true of the Alder Trumpf. Other 1500cc “luxury” compacts of the ‘30s (e.g. Licorne 9CV, Riley 12, Rover P1, Steyr 200, Stoewer Greif, etc.) were far less technologically advanced. Perhaps the closest thing to a European “rival” was the 1.75 litre Tatra T97, launched around the same time as the Aprilia. Pity production stopped in 1939…
The Lancia’s only real domestic rival was the 6-cyl. Fiat 1500, which was quite a bit cruder but also much cheaper and, after a nose job in 1940 seen above, rather good-looking too. Not surprisingly, Fiat sold two 1500s for every Aprilia. But as with the Traction Avant, the 1500 was built to compete in the high-volume end of the segment.
Not keen on Hunchie McHunchback here? Not to worry. There were dozens of carrozzerie literally making dozens of low-volume variants and one-off specials for the Lancia Aprilia over the years. It’s impossible to show them all, even if we restrict ourselves to the second half of the ‘40s. But here are a few of these beauties, for your (and especially my) viewing pleasure.
Tailor-made Aprilias – clockwise from top left: Bertone, Ghia, Vignale, Touring and Stabilimenti Farina
Most of these could be included in my fantasy garage’s Italian section. The pre-war coachbuilt Aprilias would also have right of place, but if we start getting into those, the CC server will probably explode (with delight).
Lancia made just over 20,000 Aprilia berlinas from 1937 to 1949, but they also sold over 7500 chassis for coachbuilt specials. A considerable number of folks were tempted by something other than the Aprilia standard saloon, which is quite understandable. As we can see above, Boneschi could whip up anything, from a limo to a cabriolet, on the 439/539 platform.
I mean, just look at these – all PininFarina, all from the later ‘40s, all drop-dead gorgeous. For a fistful of lire more than the standard saloon, of course, but it was worth it. Italian coachbuilders were always very good, style-wise, but they hit an artistic and creative peak after 1945 that arguably lasted for a couple of decades. American and European influences were expertly blended to create anything from sober and clean volumes to flamboyant (sometimes a tad heavy-looking) à la française follies.
Aprilia horrorsow: Boneschi gone awry (left); Stabilimenti Farina’s weird cubist period (right)
And to be fair, some bespoke Aprilias of the period were a bit… peculiar. Some of these would be good candidates for my “Nightmare garage,” which would also include some 1960-62 Exner designs, a few ‘70s Japanese and British cars, most post-war French haute-couture blobmobiles, the Docker Daimlers and anything SsangYong have ever made.
As fascinating as coachbuilt cars can be, the vision Lancia had with this model was the standard saloon. It may not have had the glamour of some of these exotics, but it was better built and so superbly engineered that, in reality, it could only be the best Aprilia of the lot. The one thing I would change on our featured car is the roof rack: I want to see that hint of dorsal fin in all its glory. New windshield wipers would be on the list, too.
There is room in my fantasy garage for an Aprilia factory saloon. The shape isn’t as gracious as it could be, but it still has loads of character. And the detailing on these cars is nothing short of extraordinary. The embossed hubcaps. The classic Lancia grille. The pillar-less doors. And it was featured in one of the best Tintin books, The Black Gold (1950) – Hergé had a soft spot for Lancias, it seems…
I got a hunch(back) this might be a genuinely ancient Thai number plate. I love the wood insert to fit the Italian-sized housing – which also looks rather weathered. As old as 72 years? Maybe. This Lancia could have been exported here at the time – hey, if Tintin can drive one out in the Arabian desert, why couldn’t some Siamese connoisseur do likewise back in 1946?
Also note the little Lancia shield…
Perhaps the coolest feature, which I hadn’t noticed previously (this was the first time I could really look at one of these cars up close), was this license plate / light fixture thingy on the trunk lid. Not many European automakers were as attentive to detail as Lancia – especially in 1946. Who wrote the model name in lights apart from those crazy ragazzi in Turin?
On this car, the trafficators have vanished in favour of two large taillamps (which also look old, but everything ages rapidly in the tropics) that were certainly not put there in Turin. Any guesses as to their provenance, by the way? I’m not 100% sure what the car had originally, but it seems one central stop light, below the license plate, plus trafficators was good enough for most of Europe in 1946. Thai law states that cars require two stop lights minimum and trafficators are notoriously unreliable, so these modifications were probably made locally, sometime in the distant past.
The steering wheel is massive, as expected in a car from this era. It’s also nice and plain, not unlike the one used in contemporary Traction Avants. But it was always on the “wrong” side (which just happens to be the correct side for Thailand). Alfa went LHD with the 1900, but Lancia waited until the Appia (1953) to put the wheel where it should be for countries that drive on the right. One cannot be avant-garde in all matters.
The rear legroom is pretty impressive for a car designed in the mid-‘30s; the Aprilia shows its age more in terms of width. The interior was as spotless as the rest. Even more so at the rear, where plastic sheeting still covered most of the new upholstery. This gave the car a surreal “just out of the factory” feel to it. The few unrestored bits and pieces were all the more noticeable, but that only added to the car’s charm.
I later saw this Aprilia leaving the inspection ramp and puttering about in the traffic, on its way home. It was a really heartening sight, especially compared to that Valiant. Lancia may be a zombified Fiat now, but this 1946 Aprilia was how they were at the top of their game: way up there with Tatra, Cord and Citroën at the forefront of automotive innovation.
Related posts:
Car Show Classics: Lancia Rally At Castlemaine Part 4, by JohnH875
Carshow Classics: Highlights From MotorClassica 2017, by Don Andreina
Automotive History: Italian Deadly Sins (Part 3) – The Many Sins Of Lancia, by T87
Wow that is a pretty car! Was that an original color? Even if not it certainly works for it. Very interesting read. Thanks!
Interesting that you found a photo of the 1943 Alfa 6C PininFarina. I’ve seen this car in the USA at an early stage of restoration.
I think the hunchback gives it a bit of presence actually. Certainly stands out from the crowd.
That V4 is very interesting as well and I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it. What a fascinating car!
Is it an optical illusion, or is that driver’s side headlight aimed across the car?
No, you fool Milligan, that’s just my eyesight!
Weirdly, as you go through these photos, the lights change til ultimately the damn thing is cross-eyed entirely.
So optical illusion then, I reckon?
Yes, something looks a bit off, doesn’t it? I didn’t notice anything amiss when I took the photos. Maybe the lens?
No, Hunchie McHunchback isn’t quite right in appearance, but is still so, so desireable. I don’t have time currently to do considered justice to your article here Mr T, but a speedy read says it’s Of Or Above Usual Standard and considering you’re competing for top of the class, that’s saying something. Bookmarked.
Cannot help but add that your description of Il Duce as “..a buffoon surrounded by cowards” is beautifully economical, and has current resonance.
I’ll return to savor.
Io ti saluto, Signore Tatra.
Grazie mille, Mr Baum.
Buffoonery and cowardice are alive and well indeed. Sad!
A terrific morning read on a car that would be quite the find anywhere.
As this Lancia is a car (the model, not brand) I’d simply never heard of, this has opened some know doors of knowledge, so thank you.
The biggest trait of the car that sticks out to me is the 18 degree V4 – with that narrow of a spread, what advantages did it have over a straight four, other than added complexity? Perhaps it allowed for a shorter block??? Styling is always a distant secondary consideration for me, as the mechanical bits are infinitely more fascinating.
Certainly the block would be shorter but it seems to me that pre-Fiat Lancias were always engineers’ cars, in the sense that someone approached the problem with a blank sheet of paper, thought of something that was technically possible, and said “Why not?”
Styling is more important to me, but in this case, the technical aspects are so out of the norm that they overcome the Aprilia’s curious curves.
As to the rationale behind Lancia’s “narrow vee” engines, i think it’s to achieve a more compact one-piece block, as you suggested.
As with some others, this is a model that is completely new to me – and you have done it justice! These stories of the way auto industries in other countries dealt with the war are highly interesting to me.
One of those engineering fads I never really understood was inboard brakes on the drive axles. I suppose any reduction in unsprung weight is good, but the extra forces put on axles and bearings coupled with the PITA in service surely would have outweighed it.
Inboard brakes on drive axles are a great idea – until you have to service them. Also, E-Type Jaguar owners who raced their cars found that there are cooling problems with inboard brakes.
It wasn’t a fad. The objective benefits of reducing unsprung weight was very considerable, both in handling and ride. Keep in mind that these drum brakes were relatively heavy, and the cars light. Also the wheels were steel, and rather large. The typical ratio of unsprung weight to sprung weight was invariably higher back than compared to modern cars that weigh more, have much lighter alloy wheels, wight-optimized disc brakes and increasingly commonly alloy suspension components.
Keep in mind that it’s the ratio that counts, not the actual unsprung weight. These cars were very light.
It’s details like this that made the difference in ride and handling, to those who could appreciate it. Obviously most Americans driving a heavy car on typical American roads didn’t. Keep in mind that roads in Italy at the time were typically cobblestones, and low unsprung weight made a difference in keeping the wheels better planted and facilitating a better ride.
Labor was relatively very cheap back then, so maintenance costs were not really much of an issue, if you could afford a Lancia (or other car with inboard brakes) in the first place.
The truly remarkable thing about the Aprilia was surely the rear suspension. I presume the transverse leaf spring – connected to the hubs by wire cable – seems designed to take the weight of the car only, and offer no roll resistance. That was provided by the torsion bars.
That sounds like a good explanation, as I was struggling to figure it out myself from the rather fuzzy image. Pretty complicated.
Having had a good ponder on this, I’m not sure. The leaf is bolted to the diff arrangement, and if the leaf took all the weight, it would put a lot of bending force upwards out at either end, needing a super-stiff spring. Also, the cable shackles would be slack. I think the torsion bars are indeed the springing, with their lightweight trailing arms giving fore-aft location. The leaf is a genius way of providing sideways location, genius because (on that unsprung weight theme) it’s just the weight of the skinny end of half a leaf spring to control. Further, I reckon IT is the anti-roll, like an Empi compensator spring on a Beetle. Further further, they aren’t swing axles but sliding spline half-shafts with universals at either end, meaning the bendable leaf also gives enough articulation without the complexity of some sort of trunnion-type arrangement having to be built on the stub axle (and on the chassis end too) for a “wishbone” of some sort. It really is a super-elegant solution to location and unsprung weight issues.
I agree it’s the most fascinating part of the car – though if you google the valve arrangements and the head in general, it’s pretty darn special too.
…and I was wrong. I think.
I can’t find anywhere a proper tech description on the net of what suspension bit is doing what, but a 1937 “The Motor” road test says in passing that “[independent rear suspension] is carried out in a novel manner which introduces a torsional control of rolling.”
However, in servicing the thing, it is clear the ride height is set by the torsion bars, surely indicating they DO take the weight?
I take it they aren’t classic swing axles with evil camber changes as per VW bugs and early Corvairs?
As to the car and T87’s writeup—wow, just wow! This car has to be in the 99th %ile for unlikelihood of being seen outside a museum and outside Italy. T87, if you can ever top this, great, but don’t feel you have to!
Here’s a Lancia Motor Club forum thread about the rear suspension by people who seem to know the subject:
http://www.lancia.myzen.co.uk/forum/index.php?topic=1366.0
And a Youtube video of the suspension. Unfortunately no narration, and if you see 30 seconds of it, you’ve seen it all. I’m starting it at a point where the visible wheel is about to take a bump:
https://youtu.be/CSr-7Ngbd5s?t=357
And someone in the UK has a complete rebuilt rear suspension for £2500:
http://www.viva-lancia.com/lancia_forsale/lancia_aprilia_2.htm
Do we want to get up a group purchase? Who would actually have custody of it? 🙂
As you might guess, I’m really fascinated by the suspension to have gone rummaging for these links!
Thanks for these. Fascinating.
And of course, it’s not a swing axle, but a double-jointed IRS. I’ve amended the text to reflect that.
I just got a copy of Automobile Quarterly for fall 1974, with an article on Lancia by David Owen. He had this to say about the Aprilia suspension:
“Twelve years earlier, Vincenzo Lancia had staked his reputation on providing safety and stability through a carefully designed independent front suspension Now he was convinced that this compact lightweight would need independent suspension at the back as well. So he designed a complex arrangement which used two torsion bars housed in a transverse tube and linked by swinging arms to the half-shafts at their splined outboard ends. The splined shafts’ inboard ends were fixed to the differential. A transverse leaf-spring pivoted in the center with a flexible mounting to the differential housing. Its outboard ends were connected by cables to the mid-points of the swinging radius arms which carried the wheel hubs.
“Once the system was perfected, it gave an almost unbeatable standard of roadholding, at the expense of a harsh ride at low speeds. But Lancia’s team was plagued by wheelsman problems whenever the car was started on steep hills or poor surfaces. This was finally cured by increasing the spring rate affecting the movements of either wheel individually without altering that of the system as a whole, but using a more flexible leaf-spring and narrower-section torsion bars.”
Not surprisingly, a superb tribute to a truly wonderful car. And to find it out on the street!
I’m attaching a couple of images of the engine, since it’s not possible to get a good visual idea from the one buried in its engine compartment.
Almost a square four.
Great article, thank you! Always delighted to find the Tatra87 byline, I know I’m going to learn about cars I’ve only a vague knowledge. Is the Aprilia one of the first cars with stressed-skin monocoque construction like an aircraft?
Henry Ford fascinated with the Aprilia? Seems more likely Edsel Ford would have been. Old Henry was so focused on the past, out-of-date engineering was good enough for his customers.
It’s not “stressed-skin monocoque construction like an aircraft”. It’s just “unibody” (unitized construction) like all modern passenger cars. The word “monocoque” is not generally used so much in the US in regard to unibody construction, but more commonly used in Europe, hence the possible confusion.
“stressed-skin monocoque construction like an aircraft” was rarely used on automobiles, for a number of obvious reasons. Cost is much higher, repair costs are higher, and the multiple openings (doors) make it rather prohibitive, if not essentially impossible. It’s almost essential in an airplane, due to its lower weight and ability to handle pressure changes, but very impractical in a car.
The reason I ask was an article I read years ago specified the Aprilia has ‘stressed-skin construction like an aircraft”, the writer had apparently confused that with a simple unibody. Lancia was first to market with a unibody in their Lambda in the 1920’s. Whatever the confusion, this is a great article on a car few have ever seen including me.
The V4 narrow angle degrees would allow a more compact block and a single-piece cylinder head. This type of OHC V4 would seem a perfect design for current compacts.
It would be rather challenging to make stressed skin construction work in a car, especially one that had the shape this one did. And note that these Aprilias had no center door post, which by itself created a major structural challenge. Although it is a unibody, I’m pretty sure the bulk of its strength comes from the floor structure, which allowed others to build the various custom bodies on it. If it had been a stresses skin structure, custom bodies would be utterly out of the question.
Yes, the engine shares the same design concepts as the VW VR6/5 engine. Very short.
Splendid piece of writing! By the way, the Aprilia special bodies remind me of that Farina Alfa at the Salmson topic.
Great find, and a very special car, I didnt realise these were on a platform like a VW and had assumed there was a chassis under there or were full unitary its great to learn something new.
Until 1950, in Italy and France, the luxury brands would never consider LHD. They saw the right-sided steering as a sign of distinction. Snobbery? British influence? Easy access? I never found a good explanation.
In Italy, there was a reason given: many roads were very narrow, especially Alpine roads and passes. The driver on the right could place his wheels right at the very edge of the road. That was more important than passing visibility. New Italian trucks and buses had RHD for this reason well into the 60s. It was essential for navigating narrow roads.
I suspect the same reason held in France.
All agreed with you, Paul.
Plus, overtaking was less of a thing back in the ’40s, as there were far fewer cars on the roads then. Driving as close as possible to the curb was considered the only way to drive a sports car.
The fact that British sports cars never bothered with the theoretical benefit of LHD for domestic consumption is, for once, a testament to British pragmatism (and Continental snobbery).
Before the Fiat 600 and 500, cars were so few in Italy that passing visibility wasn’t really a problem. As to italian trucks (not sure about buses), RHD was mandatory until 1979 IIRC. And even for a few years after that, it was a no-cost option.
How prevalent were RHD cars when you were growing up in Austria?
I remember Italian trucks coming over the Brenner Pass into Innsbruck with RHD. And the cars the British tourists drove. But I don’t remember others, off hand.
That’s a really nice frosted grey on the hero.
Fantastic read all round. Each sentence sends me off on another tangent. That fact about France’s GDP being substantially larger than Italy’s seems to answer why so many Italians ended up in the French auto industry at that time.
Boy, did they rave about this car new. And it was remarkable too, low wind noise, superb handling over any surface, excellent brakes and light, high-geared steering, and rather incredibly, 20secs 0-60mph and a top speed of 80, all with 30+ mpg. From 1.3 litres! Cars of such capacity weren’t exceeding those sort of figures into the 1970’s. Plus it was obvious the car was in a low state of tune. This little car was faster and a good deal more sophisticated than a lot of very fancy (and fancied) players a lot more expensive.
I’ve always loved Lancias, but I didn’t quite realise just how good these earlier ones were. No wonder the cognoscenti rave still.
Here’s a page with a number of reviews from period for those who feel like indulging.
https://www.narrywoolan.com.au/lancia-aprilia/aprilia-publications.html
What an outstanding find and write-up. Those PininFarina variants are fantastic looking.
What a find in an unexpected place. I’m going to apply for a job a Thai vehicle inspector…..thanks!