(first posted 4/4/2018) The dominance of front-wheel drive (FWD) designs has been with us for around half a century now, though some might point to the 1770 contraption above and say it’s been with us since the beginning. There are exceptions in all segments and across the world, but few could quibble with the transverse-engine FWD layout’s many advantages. This means once a model, range or platform had gone FWD, there is virtually no incentive to change that. But there are – and have always been – folks who don’t follow the rules.
By the way, this post is only considering actual platforms/bodies, not nameplates. Yes, you could get an RWD gen. 7 Corolla wagon alongside an FWD gen. 8 Corolla saloon in the mid-‘80s Toyota range, but they were different platforms. Cars/nameplates that may have reverted to RWD (e.g. Renault Twingo, Maserati Quattroporte, Dodge Charger, etc.), but use a “proper” RWD-specific platform, are also excluded.
Fair warning: there are going to be quite a few French cars in this post…
If there is one principle of automotive design, it is that FWD is the best configuration for passenger cars. It frees up interior space, saves weight, enables a tighter package, grips the road better (usually) – the benefits are manifold. The dictum of FWD was generally accepted by the ‘30s, when FWD cars really hit the streets, but only became widespread after the ‘60s, when even Detroit and VW acknowledged that RWD and rear engines were going to have to go, except for a few niches.
Panhard & Levassor pioneered front-engined RWD, a balanced design that soon became ubiquitous.
Rear- and mid-engined cars tend to have a sort of natural size limit (explored in an earlier two-part series) for four-door family-oriented fare. Though the layout is still with us, it has become completely marginal, when it used to be a real FWD alternative from about 1930 to 1960. The “traditional” front engine / RWD “système Panhard,” pioneered by Émile Levassor in 1891, remains too, but only in larger cars. Somebody among the CCogniscenti will surely inform us which is the smallest front engine / RWD car currently in production, but I doubt if there is anything under 2 litres. Aside perhaps from the Egyptian-made Lada Riva, which might not be in production any longer and is a 50-year-old design.
Dawn of FWD – clockwise from top left: Alvis FE 12/50; Ruxton; Tracta Type G 3-litre; Cord L29
But there are drawbacks to FWD. One necessarily involves financial and technical means: the (relative) novelty of FWD, initially, was beset by technical difficulties. These were overcome, thanks to the pioneering work of Harry Miller, J. A. Grégoire and others, during the ‘20s. In 1927, Alvis were the first important European firm to propose an FWD chassis for sale (after having proved the concept in racing); Grégoire’s small Tracta works also began making cars around this time. The Bucciali brothers’ super low-slung (and very low-production) cars debuted in late 1928, soon followed by the sublime Miller-designed Cord L-29, the first 8-cyl. FWD car ever made. Ruxton also appeared (briefly) in 1929, with a stunning body designed by Joseph Ledwinka (cousin of Hans). Yes, there are probably many I’m forgetting, but this is really an excuse to post some of the best-looking cars of the day…
1930-31 Bucciali brochure and TAV30 cabriolet (with mock V16) by Saoutchik.
Speaking of which, the Bucciali was quite a stunning car, with bodies usually made by Saoutchik. The French marque used their own transmission, a form of front-drive swing axle that the Bucciali brothers patented in 1927. Bucciali did not make their own engines, but used contemporary 6- and 8-cyl. motors (usually Continental). The firm’s stated goal was not so much production as it was to sell or license their FWD designs to a larger automaker. To keep Bucciali in the spotlight, The firm announced a V16 model, the TAV30. But the engine, essentially two Continental straight-8s joined at the hips, was just a mock-up. A client asked for a Saoutchik saloon, but insisted on a Voisin V12 sleeve-valve engine.
October 1931: Bucciali’s sensational 5-litre V12 saloon.
The resultant car, originally called the TAV8-32 but now usually called TAV12, was shown at the 1932 Paris Motor Show. It was eventually bought by a Parisian banker. As was common in those days, he soon bought another chassis and told Saoutchik to make the FWD body fit the RWD Bugatti Type 46 chassis – also a 5-litre, but a more potent (and reliable?) DOHC straight-8.
The Bugatti version — not a great fit…
This is our first example of a switch from FWD to RWD, so let’s be kind. The Bucciali was eventually reconstructed using as many original parts as possible (including the body) in the ‘70s. That was a good decision – there are some beautiful Bugatti 46s (the “Petite Royale” – a work of art in and of itself – was one of the best cars of the era), but this one is definitely not among them. The Bugatti was about as low-slung an RWD chassis one could buy, but the difference with the Bucciali is stark.
By the early ‘30s, progress with CV joints enabled specialists (Rzeppa, Tracta, Bendix-Weiss) to propose various systems for automakers to employ. Smaller FWD cars appeared: Adler and DKW in Germany sired a line of highly successful small FWD designs: Adler’s mid-sized 1932 Trumpf (top left) was licensed abroad, while DKW essentially kept refining their 1931 F1 for the next two decades (pictured top right: a late ‘30s F7). Within Auto-Union, larger 6-cyl. FWD cars were also made under the Audi marque (middle left) from 1933 to 1938. Aero of Czechoslovakia (middle right) also joined the fray in 1933, later followed by Jawa. In France, small but ambitious Derby launched two FWD models in 1933: a 1-litre 4-cyl. “L2” and a 2-litre V8 “L8” (bottom left) – good but too expensive, the firm went under in 1936. British conglomerate BSA initially launched an FWD three-wheeler in 1929; this was followed by a proper four-wheel light car by 1931, eventually becoming the BSA Scout (bottom right) – the first (relatively) cheap FWD sports cars.
And in 1934 came the Citroën bombshell. The Traction Avant combined FWD, all-steel monocoque, hydraulic brakes, torsion bar suspension, a new OHV engine and no running boards. Plus, it was available as a full range, from the 1.6 litre 4-cyl. to a (never actually produced) 3.8 litre V8, and available in a dozen body styles. It was a triumph and a catastrophe that made the company’s name but broke its back at the same time, inciting Michelin to take the company over.
Underside of the 1934-57 Citroën Traction Avant – could we have that in RWD, please?
One should bear in mind the economic context of the ‘30s – FWD was not an attractive proposition for most automakers in those days. The difficulty and cost of the enterprise, fatal to many small firms as well as Cord and Citroën, meant that most automakers were in no hurry to develop (or even contemplate) FWD, though a lot of R&D on FWD and rear-engine designs started to take place.
Old-style Licornes – above: 1932 small car range; below: 1935 Licorne 11CV Rivoli (mid-range)
Many smaller automakers were incapable of any R&D – let alone FWD-related work. At a time when all-steel bodies and more efficient OHV engines were becoming de rigueur, few could keep up. There were, however, FWD cars or bodies that might be used for RWD chassis. The Citroën Traction Avant, besides its powered front wheels, was also a new and rather pretty monocoque, with interesting variants (long wheelbase saloon, six-light limo, two-door convertibles, etc.) – quite an attractive bit of kit for a low-volume producer such as Licorne, whose sedate but elegant small cars were finding fewer takers by the mid-‘30s. Licorne asked Citroën to provide a few thousand extra normal and LWB saloon bodies. The deal was struck and the new 1936 Licornes looked… familiar.
1936-39 Licorne 11CV Rivoli
Of course, Licorne finished the bodies and made a few changes here and there. Notably, they had to cut the floor to make a transmission hump: Licorne’s chassis were RWD, of course. And the chassis is actually under there, too. With the unibody sitting on top. Bit over-engineered – or under-engineered? The Citroën-bodied Licornes, which soon included a Traction Avant-sourced LWB version called the Normandie, even started using Traction engines by 1938. But they remained RWD until the war and did not reappear after it.
But even stranger than Licorne was Delage.
Delages were usually big, beautiful and powerful, like this 1939 D6 by Letrouneur & Marchand
Though renowned for their luxury and racing pedigree, Delage’s big straight-6s and -8s weren’t selling as they used to and the smaller cars were not competitively priced. Delage went bankrupt in 1935 and was bought by Delahaye, who immediately launched a new entry-level Delage chassis with a 2-litre Delahaye 4-cyl., the DI-12. Neither Delahaye nor Delage had any body-making experience, so Delahaye shopped around for a cheap alternative and came knocking on Citroën’s door, just after Licorne.
A plebeian Traction body was not exactly what Delage’s elitist clientele expected…
The 1936 Delage DI-12 saloon (a few cabriolets were also made) was not a success. The Citroën body was costly to modify and, once reinforced and adapted to the DI-12 chassis, the result was too heavy and too common for this high-society debutante. The DI-12 switched to a more suitable design and ditched the Traction bodyshell within a year. When Delahaye had to repeat the operation with the 1939 Type 168, they wisely selected a Renault Viva Grand Sport (RWD) bodyshell.
The 1934-35 Chenard-Walcker – a heady cocktail of slow and frumpy, with optional FWD.
One might say that these examples are of FWD car bodies used to clothe another automaker’s RWD chassis. One would be correct, of course. So here’s one that was made by same company as both FWD and RWD together. Chenard-Walcker was a significant French player in ‘20s; though well below the Big Trois (Citroën, Peugeot and Renault), the firm had ambitions to increase their sales by switching to the fashionable FWD layout. Chenard introduced their new FWD car in 1934 – just when Citroën stole the show with their Traction range, now complete with a V8 model. Chenard’s new FWD SuperAigle 4, by comparison, had a gutless sidevalve 2.2 litre 4-cyl. that strained under the weight of its old-fashioned body. Said body was identical to other RWD Chenards, which all more or less shared the basic saloon body. The Citroën’s sleek all-steel monocoque, hydraulic brakes and OHV engine made for a far more attractive cocktail at a more affordable price.
Chausson’s new body was ready for the RWD Matford by mid-1935.
Come 1935, Chenard-Walcker were on the ropes – though they did design a new (and better-looking) body for their RWD and FWD ranges. The struggling firm found a partner in Chausson, a large-scale coach and car body maker. Chausson were working on the new Matford all-steel bodies, which could be made to fit C-W’s range.
Except for the 4S wagon, Chenard used Matford bodies for its ‘36 RWD and FWD cars.
The Chenard range looked positively different by 1936. But the cars were still pretty slow sellers, so Chenard needed to find ways to save money. The Chenard V8 was switched to the 3.6 litre Matford flathead and the FWD was dropped before the end of the year. Indeed, Chausson and Citroën had done a deal: Chenard would quit the FWD in exchange for Citroën’s 2-litre Traction engine – and everybody wanted that engine in the late ‘30s, it seems… Chenard-Walcker carried on making RWD cars, with Citroën and Ford engines, until 1940. The experience did not go to waste entirely, as they finally turned a profit after the war with an FWD van design that was picked up by Peugeot. Let’s leave French cars for a minute, hop on the Normandie (the ship, that is) and cross the pond. It’s going to be worth the trip.
A stunning design by Gordon Buehrig, the FWD Cord 810/812 sedan and roadster was only made for two years (in less than 2500 units) before the Auburn-Cord-Duesenberg empire crumbled. By August 1937, the Cord tooling was sitting there, unused and hardly worn. It was bought by Norman De Vaux, whose own automobile business had collapsed the previous year, for US$ 500,000. De Vaux figured the Cord body would make a great car if the price could be brought down. This would mean switching to an RWD drivetrain – and, most unfortunately, abandoning the hidden headlamps.
The 1937-39 Hupmobiles had few takers; ‘39 Skylark prototype (below) looked like half a million bucks.
The Hupp Motor Co. showed interest in De Vaux’s concept and hired him to develop it as the new Hupmobile. After a very bumpy stretch in 1935-37, the company was peddling a range of 6- and 8-cyl. cars that were not selling all that well – fewer than 2000 units in 1938. Work on the Cord-bodied Hupmobile project really began in mid-1938. It was not an easy task. The front end was redesigned by John Tjaarda and the floor and firewall were re-engineered to allow for the transmission; Hupmobile used leaf-sprung solid axles front and back, in an effort to keep costs down. The biggest issue was making the Cord body, an extremely time- and labour- consuming process that plagued Hupp for a long time. Hupp showed the new Skylark at the 1939 New York Auto Show and orders poured in pretty much instantly. But Hupp had about 30 cars in stock and no means to make the bodies on a large enough scale.
Cue Jaws theme tune…
Hupp had nothing to sell – the old-line “senior” sedans were out of production and the new Skylark was impossible to build. Enter Graham-Paige, who had followed the whole affair with interest – De Vaux had approached them initially – since the start. Graham had launched their distinctive “Sharknose” cars in 1938 and continued the line into 1939, but sales were rather dismal. Graham had previous experience sharing bodies (which is cleaner than it sounds), so now that Hupp had done most of the heavy lifting, Graham were able to make a deal to manufacture the cars, as well as launch their version alongside Hupp’s.
Even Hupp’s ads hinted at the car’s rarity – only about 300 Skylarks were made.
Things didn’t pan out too well. This was the first unit body for both Hupp and Graham, so putting it in production was a long and difficult process, finally solved by getting the bodies made by Hayes, an experienced industrial coachbuilder. Both companies kept their own engines, which were both 6-cyl. plants: Hupp had a 4-litre (245 ci) and Graham used a 3.5 litre (218 ci); the Graham engine, though, could be provided with a supercharger, making the Graham a very interesting performer. The first production Hupmobiles arrived in early 1940, by which time pretty much every advance order had been canceled. Hupp went bankrupt by the summer.
Graham built around 1500 Hollywoods in 1940-41
Graham launched their 1940 Hollywood, which had a bit more success, alongside the remaining Sharknose range. The supercharged engine at least followed the spirit of the Cord, and Graham even managed to make a few convertibles. Graham managed to hold on with the Hollywood’s help until 1941, when military orders saved the company. The Hollywood was the last Graham-badged car, although the remnants of Graham’s automotive side served as a base for Kaiser-Frazer after the war.
It may be worth noting that the original plan for Kaiser was to share most of its body with the Frazer, but not its chassis. Henry J. Kaiser wanted his name to grace an FWD car with a unibody and torsion bar suspension. A sort of American Citroën, if you will: Henry Kaiser was known to have been interested in the French car. One big difference was the location of the transmission at the rear of the engine, which made for a better package than the Traction Avant. This was all great in theory in 1944, the problem was making it work.
Above: the troublesome Kaiser FWD setup; below: FWD Kaiser and RWD Frazer, 1946.
The Kaiser was supposed to share its body (with a few modifications) with the RWD Frazer that Graham-Paige were busy making alongside the daring new Kaiser. The planned car was shown (and two prototypes made) and advertised in 1946, but the technical issues were too great to be resolved for a 1947 launch. Pressed for a solution, Kaiser simply abandoned the FWD car and fielded a facelifted Frazer design that was much cheaper and quicker to get into production.
The popularity of the FWD layout grew quickly after the war. The old pioneers (Citroën, DKW) were joined by a throng of recent converts: Hotchkiss, Lloyd/Goliath, Panhard and Saab, followed in 1959 by BMC’s landmark Mini. Several DKW-derived machines also grew in the Eastern Bloc (Trabant, Wartburg and the Polish Syrena). None of these were converted to RWD – but one was famously made into a very bizarre 4×4 that might qualify.
Only Citroën could have actually designed and sold an oddity like the 2CV Sahara. It came of age in 1959, just as Citroën were about to restyle the 2CV’s corrugated and louvred front end. The Sahara never got the new hood, as the model sold poorly and the spare wheel had nowhere else to go. For in the trunk, there was a second 425cc flat-twin to drive the rear wheels.
Only 27 of these very strange cars still exist. I snapped this one at the 2012 ICCCR.
Citroën built about 700 of these until 1966 – the price was steep, the performance inadequate and the fuel consumption in 4×4 mode rather off-putting. But you could run it with either end solo, making the 2CV Sahara the only FWD that is also a rear-engined RWD (and 4×4) ever commercialized. Saint Sahara, Our Lady of the Pointless Innovation, we pray to thee.
And with this incantation, I bid you farewell. Until part two, same time tomorrow.
Related posts:
Curbside Classic: 1940 Graham Supercharged Sedan – Graham Jumps The Shark, by PN
Lane Motor Museum Basement Outtake: Citroen 2CV Sahara – 4×4, Thanks To Two Engines, by PN
Some fascinating stuff here. The only one I can add to is the problem that Hupp had in building bodies. It wasn’t about unit construction but that because of the way the body was designed. My understanding is that because of Cord’s small size and the low anticipated volume of the cars the bodies were made from many panels which needed to be welded together and the seams filled and ground smooth. This was feasible in a low volume expensive car but not in a higher volume inexpensive car.
A quick bit of research turned up the SIA article from many years ago (https://www.hemmings.com/blog/2014/03/30/sia-flashback-cord-redux/) which confirms that the roof panel alone was seven separate pieces of metal that required much hand-work to complete. Nobody could have built that body and sold it for the price that Hupp and Graham needed to hit.
Part of the problem was Hupp’s history. Their big year was 1928. Yeah, the pre-Depression year of 1929 was a downturn for them while everybody else was having their best year ever. Which means they went thru the early Thirties in worse shape than the other independents. They blew a small fortune on the 1934 aerodynamics (second only to the Airflow in the radical sweepstakes) which tanked. So they redesigned in 1937 with an attractive conservative streamliner. Just in time for the 1938 mini-recession.
By 1940 they were grasping for anything to stay in business. And the DeVaux proposal was their last chance.
Mr. DeVaux was quite the character, by the way. Probably best described as the 1930’s version of Malcom Bricklin. Not entirely accurate, but close enough for a first impression.
Hupmobile management optimistic because of great 1928 sales of 65K units bought out Chandler Motor Company of Cleveland at the end of the year with plans for greater expansion. The 50K 1929 sales proved they were overly optimistic and stuck with overcapacity…which only got worse.
The Chandler connection did result in Hupmobile introducing their entry-level luxury Model H and full-luxury Custom Eight Model U powered by a large 365 cu. in. straight eight apparently based on the former Chandler Royal Eight 340 cu. in. straight eight. The latter had series-custom bodies by Baker, Rauch & Lang.
My understanding is that Cord did the roof the way they did because they were undercapitalized and couldn’t afford to tool up to fabricate the roof as a single stamping. I don’t remember the source, but one writer said that doing the roof was killing them.
it’s a shame the FWD Kaiser didn’t pan out. With a bit more development, I don’t see why it wouldn’t have been quite workable. It would have created much more distinction between the two brands; as it turned out they were mostly just badge-engineered versions of each other, with the Frazer having somewhat higher trim. But they overlapped considerably in price.
Kaiser really needed something more other than just being a new car in the post-war era; FWD could have made a difference. of course if the system had big problems, it would have just killed them that much faster.
It is interesting that the lower priced Kaiser was slated for FWD while the more expensive Frazer was to be conventional. This is a reverse of about every other US FWD car I can think of before the Omni/Horizon. I continue to maintain that the only advantage FWD has is packaging efficiency, and that is purchased at the cost of simplicity and ease of service. Until CAFE hit in the 70s there was no real reason for US cars to make the leap to FWD. The only three that did (Ruxton Cord and Toronado) did so for styling and technical bragging rights. I think Kaiser dodged a big bullet.
I agree with JPC with the exception of the L29 and Ruxton – back then, FWD was all about bragging rights, on either side of the pond (cf Bucciali, Tracta, etc.).
When the European makers started designing smaller FWD cars (Adler, DKW, etc.), that’s when things began to diverge. US automakers had no real use for the technology, though GM, K-F and Ford (and others I’m sure) experimented a lot with the layout in this 1930-60 time period.
One of the biggest issues, as stated in another comment, was the heaviness of the steering. Anyone who tried to parallel park a Citroen Traction Avant (especially a 15/Six)? It’s murder. Can’t imagine what it would be for an American car of the era – the Cord 810 must be pretty tough to handle too…
“I continue to maintain that the only advantage FWD has is packaging efficiency”
Gonna have to disagree there, and I’m not a big fan of fwd.
For one thing, it does away with a lot of rotational mass, so on small engines that cant afford a lot of power loss, the difference is HUGE. That’s more a function of all transaxles, but that’s how fwd is accomplished.
Another is that for your everyday grocery getter sedans, minivans, and CUVs it makes for a much more predictable handling vehicle. Not ‘better’ in the sense of a performance car…but more something that non enthusiast drivers can better deal with in all situations especially wet and slippery roads.
If “more predictable” as in “what everyone is used to”, I would agree. I guess I am getting old, because I remember when RWD was what everyone had been used to for decades and, thus, predictable. I will also concede that the lighter drivetrain permits better performance with less power. I still maintain that it is at a cost of complexity and higher maintenance costs.
Wrong predictable handling is FWD done properly, likely something you have not experienced, simply because you cant buy those cars,
I tend to agree on your observation about packaging. Of course I have to admit that my opinion could be from the fact that I just don’t like most fwd vehicles. I find most of them boring and uninspiring. I also agree about the difficulty in servicing them. I take care of my own repairs and occasionally those of friends and just know when it is a fwd vehicle that it will typically be much more difficult. It also seems to me that fwd vehicles suffer much more in the way of transmission failures than rwd vehicles.
I have to admit, though, that fwd cars get around in the snow a lot better. I am amused when people ask me how in the world do I get around in the winter. Most are surprised when I tell them that I do it like I always have, add some weight and pay attention to what I am doing.
I know that a lot of people will disagree with me, but this is just my opinion.
Every analysis I’ve read about the Frazier FWD comes to the conclusion that it needed power steering to work. Which, unfortunately, was still 5-8 years in the future.
According to Kaiser Frazer: The Last Onslaught on Detroit, a power steering system was worked up for the FWD Kaiser, but it would have added around $1,000 to the cost of the car.
According to my big book of American Cars the FWD Kaiser had problems with gear whine, heavy steering and rapid wear in the universal joints. It would likely have taken years to get these problems solved and Kaiser wanted to cash in on the postwar seller’s market.
Kaiser was much better at building ships…and Vanport…
Sorry, my ADD kept me from reading all of this, but since an uncle owned a Kaiser (or was it a Fraser?) when I was a very small child, I had no idea that one of these was FWD and the other was RWD.
What’s kind of interesting is that manufacturers were willing to try FWD even though there were so many obstacles to making it work and so few rewards.
The Kaiser was proposed to be FWD, and a couple of prototypes were made and shown, but technical problems caused that to be ditched for conventional drive in production.
Very interesting! Some more recent examples of this which you may be covering in the next installment. 3 spring to mind from the British motor industry. The front drive Triumph 1300 morphed into the later 1500 and Dolomite. I believe you could actually buy the 1500 as a short tailed fwd or longer tailed rwd version at the same time(!) The Austin/Morris 1800 “Land crab” became the rwd 3 Litre and last, but definitely not least, the Rover 75/MG ZT became the rear drive V8 versions.
One could also include the rally version of the Renault 5 which went mid engined rwd as the 5 Maxi Turbo…..
Patience, patience. All this and more in part 2…
Certainly looking forward to reading this properly later this evening, but to answer your early question, there are 1.6 litre RWD versions of the BMW 1 series available in Europe at least.
And don’t forget the MX-5 is available with a 1.5 litre engine.
The most extreme I can think of is the Caterham 7 160, powered by a 660cc Suzuki engine. But I accept that is a special case.
Thank you Roger – so there are still a couple of RWD cars under 2 litres! That’s good to know. Only a couple though. One German saloon, one Japanese roadster. As it ought to be.
But the difference between the present and, say, the 1980s, is pretty incredible. Nowadays, it could be that 97% of the smaller (<2 litre) cars are FWD, 2.9% rear-engined and 0.1% RWD… I'm pulling these numbers out of thin air, but this is how it feels. L
Since its last facelift the 1-series starts with the 3-cylinder 1.5L engine in the 118i (perhaps others in Europe), which people say is a bit of a hidden gem due to less weight on the front end allowing sharper response.
Damn, I’m enjoying this one. Full of all sorts of cars that fascinated me back in my teens when I got into the antique car hobby. And the Cord 810/812. THE most beautiful car ever made. Period. I often wish dad had been willing to buy his carburetor specialist’s 810 cabriolet when the guy was finally willing to sell. By then (mid-80’s) the value had appreciated well beyond what my father was willing to invest in an antique car, even though the prior twenty years had taught him the value of the antique car hobby.
Triumph in Britain went from the fwd 1500 to rwd 1500tc in the 70s both near identical and on the same chassis I believe.
For Part II, I can think of one, the Renault 5, although that changed from F/F to M/R, so I don’t know if it counts.
In Europe, the current Ford Transit can be had in FWD, RWD, or AWD, but I don’t know if you’re covering trucks
Hupp didn’t go bankrupt, it switched to making HVAC equipment, then specialized in HVAC accessories for RVs. The brand was still active in the early ’90s but seems to have disappeared since.
You say tomato….
Hupp quit the automotive game – they salvaged what they could from what was left and went into a different path, helped by the looming war. That was done through a financial restructuring and reorganization (aka bankruptcy) from July 1940 to early 1941. Hupp Motor Car Co. became Hupp Inc. – a different company.
Knudsen (ex GM) became chairman of the Board after the war. Hupp’s old Detroit factory was sold in 1950.
Many thanks to all who read this. I especially thank Paul N for giving me his helpful feedback on this post.
And I would like to apologize for being unable to put links to the relevant CC posts – I had to forego doing this due to the BMW (503) curse, which was back with a vengeance when I put this (and tomorrow’s) post up.
Ah… the mythical Bucciali. For those pics alone, T87, I thank you profusely. The snub-nose Bug… ugh.
I read this column yesterday, and the picture of the proposed Kaiser FWD suspension and steering gave me nightmares….The variation in castor angle in particular.
That is a good point, a lot of bump steer there!
Thanks Tatra, great article and photos.
Never heard about the FWD Kaiser … fascinating stuff! Thanks for the write up.
Great review, there’s always something new to learn from the Curbside Classic’s Editors.
Perhaps you forgot to mention one of the most achieved marks in the FWD history of overall automobiles, the still surviving Lancia who was legendary then althought today is mostly influenced by sort of chryslerization . Anyway, Lancia’s past time is still glorious to date.
Wrong about the 2CV Sahara being unique. In the 1930s, Tempo, built by Vidal & Sohn in Hamburg built a military car with the same layout, but with more Germanic swing axle suspension. Exported to many countries before WW2, it was a well-known concept.
I feel like the 1926 Miller 91 racing car deserves a mention. Its 1.5 liter engine produced 250 horsepower, and its racing successes show that it many of the problems of powerful front wheel drive cars were solved in its development. It was also available in a lower-cost rear wheel drive version.