(first posted 5/30/2017) The Neckarsulm Chronicles will be making a pit stop (via Saxony) in Ingolstadt, Bavaria. After all, whatever is left of NSU is now called Audi, and what is Audi if not DKW? Fifty years ago, that storied acronym disappeared in a puff of blue smoke from the German automotive scene, only to be reincarnated as Audi. Let’s explore the reasons behind this conjuring trick.
DKW stands for Dampf-Kraft-Wagen (Steam-Driven Car), though steam did not stay in the engine bay very long. The company was founded in 1907 by Danish engineer Jørgen Rasmussen in Chemnitz (though the factory was in nearby Zschopau) in Saxony, but only made cars around 1916-1919. The main focus soon turned to two-stroke motorcycles: DKW became one of the biggest motorcycle makers in the world in the ‘20s. By 1928, the firm re-entered the car market with a small 2-cyl. two-stroke car, the P15. Soon, a larger 4-cyl. two-stroke, the 4=8, accompanied the P15 – both were essentially plywood and fabric bodied affairs, built in a new factory in Spandau, near Berlin. The engines were still made in Saxony. Concurrently, Rasmussen crated Framo, which focused on very small (200-300cc) three-wheelers and light trucks, not unlike Borgward’s Goliath.
In early 1931, DKW launched the F1, arguably the first series-produced FWD car in the world. The parallel two-stroke twin was transverse-mounted behind the gearbox. The F1’s completely new motor was a revolutionary design in its own right, owing little to previous engines, be they DKW or otherwise. The design and layout were successfully adapted to the Framo range as well. But in 1932, the firm found it necessary to join forced with three other automakers to ensure its survival.
The “German GM” that was Auto Union combined DKW with fellow Saxon carmakers Audi, Horch and Wanderer. The four-ring logo stems from this creation. DKW would focus on small cars, Audi and Wanderer on the mid-range and Horch was the luxury brand. In 1934, Rasmussen and Auto Union parted ways; he took Framo with him, as he had set it up separately from Auto Union.
DKW did not limit itself to FWD cars in the ‘30s, though: the 4=8 Schwebeklasse (top left) and Sonderklasse, with their distinctive two-stroke 1-litre V4, continued alongside the “F” range, which had 500-600cc twins (F7, top right). The V4-powered cars never ran all that well, but the FWD range was extremely successful, allowing Auto Union to become Germany’s second-largest automaker (after Opel) in the ‘30s. DKW tried to dabble in the other technical fashion of the day, rear-engined cars, but their dramatic-looking prototype never worked properly, though it did influence Auto Union’s racing cars. DKW also made some fantastic-looking FWD racers, taking advantage of the two-stroke’s good power-to-weight ratio.
By the time 1939 came around, Auto Union was starting to be truly integrated. The cars of 1940 were slated to share their streamlined styling cues across the four marques, starting with the duroplast-bodied DKW F9, which had an all-new 900cc 3-cyl. motor placed longitudinally ahead of the front wheels (top, about ten prototypes made) and was meant to replace the slow-selling RWD cars. The Horch 930 S was presented at the 1939 Berlin Motor Show, but only a handful were made (middle). A new 6-cyl. Wanderer was also in the works (bottom) – the family resemblance was striking. But the 1940 range never got off the ground for blitzkriegly obvious reasons…
Above: IFA F8 saloon; below: export-only F8 Luxus cabriolet by Karrosseriewerk Dresden (ex-Gläser).
Auto Union found itself, along with the rest of Saxony, under Soviet occupation in 1945. The main factories, in Chemnitz, Zwickau and Zschopau, were eventually rebuilt and resumed truck and motorcycle production. In a scenario akin to BMW, Auto Union found itself on either side of the Iron Curtain. In the East, the name Auto Union was abandoned in favour of IFA (Industrieverband Fahrzeugbau), a conglomerate that regrouped all nationalized automotive industry in the Soviet Zone, including Auto Union, BMW and Simson (motorcycles and cars), Phänomen and Framo (trucks), Orenstein & Koppel (locomotives) and coachbuilder Gläser of Dresden. IFA restarted the pre-war DKW F8 range and began exporting to various countries, both in the East and the West.
Above: One of a handful of the post-war Horch 920 S limos, 1950; Below: IFA F9 launch in 1949.
A few restyled Horch 920S and 930S limos were put together for Soviet generals, but the meat of the production was to be the IFA F9, closely derived from the stillborn 1939 DKW F9. The DKW name was not used on the car itself, but the little FWD two-stroke streamliner was evidently carrying DKW genes. As we can see above, IFA themselves acknowledged this quite openly.
DKW’s first post-war car, the F10, and the Schnellaster van.
Getting production going in the West took longer, as most of the factories, blueprints and machine-tools were in Saxony. Around 1947, two Auto Union executives, managing director Dr Richard Bruhn and deputy director Dr Carl Hahn, registered the names “Auto Union” and “DKW” in West Germany, initially to run a parts store for pre-war DKWs, which were still abundant on German roads. By 1949, they launched their first new vehicle, the Schnellaster van, in a new factory in Düsseldorf; in 1950, the first post-war car was launched, the DKW F10.
Above: DKW F89 cabriolet by Karmann; below: DKW F89; bottom: 1951 DKW prototype.
The F10 was a stopgap model, essentially a restyled F8 with a body made by coachbuilder Baur. It was soon replaced when DKW unearthed a pre-war F9 body in Spandau and reverse-engineered it as the F89. But the new DKW still had to make do with the old 700cc twin, as the F9’s three-pot engine was in IFA’s possession. Even as it restarted automobile production, DKW investigated the possibility of making a more modern car, but the company’s finances did not allow for tooling for a completely new body.
Separated from birth: The DKW (on the left) and the IFA.
For a few years, one could buy either the IFA or the DKW – some markets, such as Belgium, Scandinavia or Switzerland, imported both cars. In the mid-‘50s, the East German authorities completely reorganized automobile production and IFA stopped making cars altogether, focusing on trucks instead.
The F8’s underpinnings survived in the 1955 AWZ (Automobilwerk Zwickau) P70, which retained the F8’s prallel twin and plywood/leatherette construction. Some markets knew this car as the “Audi P70”, though the name did not appear on the car as such. The P70 begat the steel monocoque / duroplast P50 Trabant, arguably the first fully transverse-mounted FWD car (gearbox included) in the world, two years ahead of the BMC Mini. The F9’s 3-cyl. ended up in the new Wartburg 311 (bottom left), which was built at the ex-BMW factory in Eisenach, as well as in Framo light trucks, later renamed IFA Barkas. Although technically unrelated to DKW per se, the old Auto Union played one final act in East Germany as the 1955 Horch P240, though that model was soon re-badged as “Sachsenring”, the Zwickau factory’s new corporate identity.
Early ‘60s Dresden street full of DKW derivatives (right-to-left): P50, F9, Wartburg 311, F8, P70.
The protracted underinvestment and ossification of East German industry in general allowed these descendants of the DKW F9 to carry on belching blue smoke right up to 1990. But it is interesting that, for a while in the ‘50s, East Germany’s DKWs were looking far more modern than the ones coming out of Ingolstadt and Düsseldorf.
Above: DKW F89 Luxus 2-seater coupé by Hebmüller; below: DKW F91 police vehicle prototype.
West German DKWs kept the F9’s basic shape well into the ‘60s, albeit with modifications and new variants. Ingolstadt struggled in the cut-throat world of Europe’s post-war small car scene: the Lloyds and Goliaths in Germany and the Saab 92 in Sweden, were unabashedly copying DKW’s spiel. The Panhard Dyna and the Citroën 2CV in France, as well as the Czechoslovak Aero Minor, were also competing in the same category, though with their own technical solutions. The motorcycle range was initially a precious source of additional income, but NSU was now the market’s darling. DKW two-wheeler production was abandoned by 1956.
The DKW F91 Sonderklasse (a.k.a 3=6, above) was developed into the 4-door F94 in 1956 (below).
Chronic under-capitalization meant that DKW had to make do with its 1939-style body, but a bigger engine was in the works: the 1953 DKW Sonderklasse 3=6 meant DKW had finally caught up with IFA and developed their own 900cc 3-cyl. – a true Beetle-beater. The DKW range eventually included a deluxe coupé, a four-door saloon, a station wagon and a convertible, which trumped the VW’s very limited amount of Typ 1 variants.
The Universal wagon filled a niche that VW would not be able to compete in until the Typ 3.
The 3=6 was more powerful, versatile and arguably more luxurious than the old Beetle, but the two-stroke was also pretty thirsty. And by the mid-‘50s, it was becoming clear that European export markets were becoming less hungry for petroil. British, French and Italian cars eschewed two-stroke engines because their domestic clientele was clearly not in favour of having to mix oil with their gasoline. Indeed, the one exception to that rule, the French-built Vespa 400, failed miserably largely because of its Piaggio two-stroke. (The other notable exception was Saab, whose main markets were still beholden to the two-stroke). Two-wheeled two-strokes were fine, but four wheels required four-strokes. Somehow, that memo was never translated into German.
Following in the footsteps of VW-Porsche and Borgward, a sporty DKW came on the scene in 1956. The fiberglass-bodied Monza was designed by racing drivers Günther Ahrens and Albrecht Mantzel, who also supervised production and sales. The Monza, whose body was made by at least three consecutive coachbuilders, was never part of the official DKW range, though, and Ingolstadt stopped collaborating with Ahrens and Mantzel pretty soon. Production continued regardless for a while, but not many were made (between 80 and 230 units) – a shame, as this could have been to DKW what Alpine was to Renault.
Above: The cheaper Junior did well in export markets; below: the 1959 DKW range in pre-Wall Berlin.
In 1957, DKW introduced the Junior, which sported a completely new and up-to-date body. The old two-stroke 3-cyl. was still there (albeit in a new 750cc form), but at least the car was ready to face the ‘60s. The 1961 Junior De Luxe ushered a 796cc triple and more brightwork. In 1963, the Junior became the F11 (800cc) and F12 (900cc), and a full convertible was added to the lineup.
Strangely, DKW unearthed the Auto Union moniker for its 3=6 range, as well as another new car in 1958. The Auto Union 1000 SP was a pretty cool-looking coupé and roadster with all the contemporary trimmings – panoramic windshield and rear fins inclusive, often said to resemble a shrunken Ford Thunderbird.
The two-stroke triple was bored to a full litre for 1958. The Sonderklasse was now called Auto Union 1000, and a fancier 50 PS (DIN) 1000S was available for an extra DM1000. The coupé lost its suicide doors, followed a year later by the grafting of a bubble windshield that looked incredibly odd on a car designed in the late ‘30s. It was clear that the F9’s styling cues were ageing less gracefully than the competition (such as the Beetle or the 2CV), but DKW were now under the spell of another automaker.
DKW specials, clockwise from top left: Drauz woodie; Wendler roadster; PininFarina and Beutler coupés.
That automaker was Daimler-Benz. Stuttgart had noticed DKW’s ailing health and taken it under its wing, so to speak. When they assumed full control of Auto Union in 1959, Mercedes-Benz figured that DKW’s small FWD models could be a great complement to their own car range. Alas, the engineering staff at Ingolstadt were so ensconced in their two-stroke ways that it proved impossible to get them to design a four-stroke, which Stuttgart knew was the solution to dwindling sales. By the early ‘60s, even the West German clientele was starting to view the two-stroke as passé.
The W118 served as a template for the new DKW, as well as the later Audi.
The engineers at Auto Union did not seem to agree: their planned successor to the 1000S still had a two-stroke triple and no amount of cajoling or criticism from Stuttgart could make them budge. Mercedes-Benz engineers took the bull by the horns in 1960 and designed a new FWD compact. The W118 and its completely new high-compression four-stroke 1.7 litre 4-cyl. was sent to Bavaria, along with its head engineer, Ludwig Kraus. Kraus’ mission was to mate this prototype with DKW’s, so that eventually the four-ringed marque could step into the ‘60s and become a BMW-fighter.
The DKW F102 was offered as a 2- or 4-door saloon. The planned wagon went straight to Audi.
The first priority was to get rid of the ancient F9-derived range, so the new car’s unibody and suspension were put into production, with necessary changes, as soon as possible. The DKW F102 was launched in August 1963 with the largest two-stroke triple DKW could muster (a whopping 1175cc producing 60 hp (DIN)). The F102 featured brand-new torsion bar suspension and disc brakes, as well as a clean three-box shape that should have augured well.
But the big triple was not a great success. Production only got started in March 1964, as DKW engineers worked out the new engine’s bugs – of course, this precipitous launch guaranteed a host of teething troubles. A major one was DKW’s patented automatic petroil mixer, which dispensed F102 owners from putting oil in their gas tank, did not work very well in freezing conditions, leading to catastrophic engine seizures. About a third of F102 owners reported major engine problems, which led to a costly parts exchange policy that hurt DKW’s already fragile financial health. Daimler now wanted to get rid of the money pit that was Ingolstadt and use whatever income that operation might bring to build a new truck factory, though they had already taken over DKW’s Düsseldorf plant. A deal was struck with Volkswagen, who found themselves in control of DKW by early 1965.
Export markets still greatly admired the last DKW’s fit and Finnish.
By now, the F102 was clearly a complete bomb. Production was halted so that the 20,000-odd units that were languishing in and around the DKW factory could be sold off as quickly as possible. VW took on DKW knowing full well that the two-stroke cars were well beyond their sell-by date, but Mercedes had shown them Kraus’ production-ready four-stroke engine, which was part of the deal.
This F103 proposal was made by Bertone in the first weeks of 1965.
This was a terrific opportunity for VW to escape their own air-cooled rear-engined dead end. In the meantime, the DKW F11/F12 and Auto Union 1000SP range were wound down, even as the F102 went to Italy for a facelift. It was plain to see that the DKW name was so associated with the two-stroke motor that the new four-stroke car would need a new identity.
In late 1965, the F103 was put on display at the Frankfurt Motor Show on a stand that bore two names: DKW and Audi. The resurrection of the Audi marque was masterfully done: the F102’s competent suspension and modern shape were kept (as was the four-ringed logo), but the name change and updated styling were just enough to communicate the F103’s novelty. The DKW marque was now on borrowed time, even though VW claimed there was still a market for two-stroke cars. F102 production stopped in March 1966 after around 55,000 units made in two years – but it took DKW-Audi another couple of years to sell all the cars they had in stock. It’s probably no coincidence that the other Western two-stroke automaker, Saab, also started to convert to four-strokes after 1966.
The DKW-Vemag Belcar and Vemaguetes wagon were built in Brazil for a full decade.
The DKW marque did not die in 1966, though: South American DKW factories continued making the old-style 1000S for a bit. In Brazil, the car was known as the DKW-Vemag Belcar and had been produced in significant quantities since 1957, when DKW bought a 52% share in Vemag (Veiculos e Maquinas Agricolas). This is another example of South American “alternate reality cars”, like the VW 1600, the IKA-Renault Torino or the Simca Emi-Sul. The boys from Brazil decided to modify the car around 1962 by abandoning the front suicide doors – but that was just for starters. Soon, DKW-Vemag’s range was to be quite different from their German cousin’s.
Above: The DKW-Vemag Fissore was too expensive to succeed; below: final four-eyed saloon and wagon.
Vemag called upon Italian coachbuilder Fissore in 1963 for a completely re-bodied two-door saloon, penned by Michelotti, to be sold alongside the Belcar. But the Fissore’s high retail price meant it would be more of a halo car, and fewer than 2500 units were made in four model years. In a last-ditch effort to refresh the ageing range, DKW-Vemag even put quad headlamps of the Belcar, making the 1967 DKW-Vemag Belcar and Vemaguetes the weirdest derivatives of the original F9 ever produced. Vemag were bought by Volkswagen in September 1967, which spelled the end of the Brazilian DKWs: production stopped two months later.
Above: Malzoni’s original steel-bodied prototype; below: the production version with its creator.
The Brazilian DKWs also spawned a bone fide sports car range, thanks to gifted amateur designer and entrepreneur Rino Malzoni, who modified a DKW-Vemag 1000S chassis and bodied it with fiberglass. The original “Malzoni special” was widely admired in Brazil, so Malzoni quickly designed a second car and produced a few dozen DKW Malzoni GTs in 1964-65. By 1966, the name had become “DKW Puma GT”, and the new marque was spun off, trading the DKW two-stroke for the VW flat-4 in 1968, which meant completely redesigning the car. Puma carried on making a variety of cars, usually with VW or GM engines, until the mid-‘90s.
But another DKW branch was still in business: IASFe (Industrias Automotriz de Santa Fe), based in Argentina. There, the DKW 1000 carried on regardless of the German marque’s domestic demise until late 1969. They were distributed by none other than Juan-Manuel Fangio! Surely the man’s automotive aura helped the two-stroke putter along for such a long time.
Compare and contrast: Santa Fe’s 1000 SE (above) and Ingolstadt’s 1000 SP (below).
Like their Brazilian counterpart, DKW-Argentina went to Fissore in the early ‘60s for a unique design. The Auto Union Fissore 1000 SE coupé and cabriolet was like a revised and improved version of the German T-Bird-esque 1000 SP and was built in small numbers from 1963 to about 1967.
It is worth noting that the DKW name reappeared briefly in some markets on the Hercules W2000, a rotary-powered motorbike, in the mid-‘70s. But of course, the two-stroke’s smoky legacy was carried furthest in East Germany, the birthplace of Auto Union. The Trabant 601, the Wartburg 353 and the Barkas remained there, frozen in place by bureaucratic lunacy and economic stagnation, for over 20 years, until VW (of course) came to the rescue. Folks even had to use the Wartburg’s 3-cyl. for their race cars: viz. the Melkus RS 1000, though the two-stroke sat at the rear, not the front.
It started with a miss: the DKW F9.
The DKW marque died of a surfeit of oil in its gasoline tank. The resurrection of Audi was probably one of Volkswagen’s wisest moves, though by some accounts the F103’s handling was ruined by the four-stroke engine. That did not matter much: at least one of the Auto Union rings was able to carry the torch into the 21st Century. The 1969 shotgun wedding with NSU added more technical refinements to Audi’s products, but the basic template was laid down way back in 1931, even before Auto Union, and revised in 1939 by the revolutionary (yet stillborn) F9. Even Volkswagen ended up converting to Audi’s Weltanschauung when they made the Big Switch to FWD with the 1973 Passat. DKW’s Deadly Sin was the Volkswagen Group’s cardinal virtue.
And tomorrow, we will examine in excruciating detail the aforementioned “shotgun wedding” in the grande finale of these so-called Chronicles: the Wankelicious story of NSU is up next.
Related CC Posts:
DKW Schnellaster: The Mother Of All Modern Minivans?, by PN
Curbside Classic: 1958 DKW Sonderklasse 3=6 (F94) – The Proto-Audi, by PN
Car Show Classic: 1962 DKW Junior Deluxe – Connoisseurs Drive DKW, by GGH06
Thunderbird Week International: Auto Union 1000 SP – The Donnervogel, by PN
Fascinating dive into the deep end of German automotive history.
Great showroom shot from the 30s!
That F10 stopgap model looks like a Pokemon
I’d like it noted that I found a 3=6 handbook (in English, originally in some UK reference library) July 13 last year. Is the previously observed CC effect a two-way phenomenon?
The date, at least, is beyond dispute – I have an insurance claim and police report describing a W108 bending collision that day. Shortly followed by the declaration that enough was enough and henceforth we would be adopting a new Mazda 3. W108 returned to service 7 months later
I’ve owned and driven two DKWs – a ’57 F93 Sonderklasse Coupe and a ’64 F12 Roadster – briefly during the ’90s. Also, from 1977 to 1992, I had 3 Audi F103 Super 90s – a pair of 2-door Variants (wagons) and a 4-door sedan parts-car. So I could write my own book about my adventures with these vehicles.
The DKWs were only hobby/project-cars, but the Audis were my man transport through most of the ’80s and were pretty trouble-prone.
Still, I loved how they drove, they were great in the snow, and for a fwd, they were fairly easy to work on. I kept my last Super 90 wagon going far longer than any sane person, until a lack of parts and rust finally took it off the road in the early ’90s.
I knew a lot of the facts in this article. My F12 Roadster somehow survived it’s notorious, belt-driven, oil-injection system. I simply removed the belt, mixed the oil with the gas and had no problems.
Also, my friend Stephan, an engineer with Volkswagen who collects F103 Audis, has told me the Super 90 wagons were a US-only model and are extremely rare.
That Mercedes W118 prototype is fascinating! While I like the F103 styling, which resembles the early ’60s GM compacts, the W118 sure looks much more modern – especially compared to Mercedes own 1960 production cars.
Happy Motorung, Mark
I hate my keyboard!
The Audis were my MAIN transport through most of the ’80s.
Happy Motoring, Mark
Hi Mark
Would you be able to contact me on costa@swiftdsl.com.au as I have more questions on the F103?
Wow, there’s a lot of juicy stuff in here but most interesting to me is the Bertone saloon proposal. That is not featured in their catalogue, but it shows a marked resemblance to the S8P Mazda prototype. Much appreciated T87.
Yes, I thought of the same Mazda, which I learned about from your authoritative piece on the subject, Dr Andreina: https://www.curbsideclassic.com/automotive-histories/automotive-history-mazda-bertone-and-the-alfa-that-wasnt/
Lots of great details here, some of which I missed in my earlier posts.
Needless to say, I had a lot of exposure to some of these cars, although two-strokes were decidedly not common in the Alpine region as two-strokes did not do well in the mountains. Fine going up, but they don’t do engine braking well, as the lack of fuel means too little oil, hence the need for free-wheeling. But if you live in the steep mountains, you don’t want to trust your life to a set of drum brakes only. So these were seen as “flatlander” cars.
My father’s aunt had a Auto Union 1000 coupe that she drove to visit us us, and I remember riding in it, and the distinctive sound (and smell).
Yes, the transition to the Audi was well-done. My godfather had a Super 90 that I rode in around central Austria in the summer of 1969. Very nice (and brisk) car for the times.
Thanks! One small quibble – IFA didn’t drop passenger cars, rather the cars dropped IFA branding. It remained the umbrella organization for the East German auto industry until the fall of communism when most of the group went to VW, Automibilwerk Eisenach (Wartburg) did a separate deal with GM and became an Opel factory (or rather, a new Opel factory was built in Eisenach) and Multicar (which makes small utility trucks) went its’ own way.
The F102 > F103 facelift contains a giant leap backwards, going from those really clever and original raised-eyebrow front turn signals to the later car’s tacked-on (and vulnerable) warts on the side fenders-ugh.
Totally agree with you last statement — the Audi facelift would have been better if they had followed Bertone’s work to the letter and grouped the turn signals in with the headlamps, Mercedes fintail-style.
As for VW, they did provide four-stroke engines for both the Trabant and the Wartburg (though they didn’t get Eisenach).
IFA remained as the umbrella organization as you said, but they never used IFA as a brand after about 1956. The IFA logo sometimes appeared on East German car literature, up to the end (the one below is from 1990). A bit messy, but then marketing was probably not their strong suit.
forgot the attach the damn pic..
You guys must work for the FBI, CIA or M16. Where else would one get such a horde of information?
Damn guys! Brilliant.
I have a memory of the DKW initials also referring to Das Kleine Wunder (not sure if I have the article and adjective genders correct there). Another flaky dman memory, urban legend, or in fact a re-invention used in DKW ads at some time? On another note, a Southern California motorcycle racer was locally famous running a 125cc DKW dirt bike, complete with leading-link fork, on road courses in the 1970’s; it was known as the “Killer Deke”.
So I checked Wikipedia, which in different sections, presumably from different contributors, describes DKW as meaning both Das Kleine Wunder (The a Small Wonder) and Dampf Kraft Wagen (Steam Car), without explaining the inconsistency. In fact it also mentions Das Knuben Wunsch (the boy’s wish). So who knows?
As I understand it, the original definition of the acronym was Dampf Kraft Wagen. But as it quickly became void of meaning, they worked out other ones.
From what I heard in Austria and Germany some referred to it as “Das Krankenhaus Wartet” (the hospital awaits) which hints at the early cars’ safety record…
…then there is the Studebaker connection.
The Eisenhower administration was loath to see Studebaker go toes up in 56, as it was an election year, so arranged a back door bailout where Curtiss-Wright would lease Studebaker’s Chippewa and Utica plants for an up front cash payment, and in exchange the DoD would shower C-W with guaranteed profit defense contracts.
C-W was also given a contract to act as a management consultant to Studebaker.
C-W wanted to distribute Daimler-Benz diesels in the US, so as an inducement to D-B offered the Studebaker dealer network as a distribution channel for Mercedes-Benz cars.
With Mercedes appearing in Studebaker showrooms, a few years later, DKWs followed. This pic was scanned from the 61 Studebaker annual report.
A DKW Junior from Studebaker! How weird is that? I never knew. I never knew any of the pre-war history either. Thanks for this incredibly comprehensive and well written article.
As I commented in detail in the 2013 CC on the DKW Junior, some friends and I briefly owned a Junior in about ’77. “Ran when parked” in a Massachusetts field, we paid $25 and towed it home. In good cosmetic shape it was so cute in the driveway. A peek under the head showed solid rust, so after an ad in Hemmings someone gave us $25 and towed it away. Too bad, it was a small wonder indeed.
Fantastic article!
I owned a near mint Auto union 1000 back in 1973. I bought it off a local small import used car lot after lusting over it for months; i was likely only the second owner. Beautifully made, really lovely car, 4 speed on the column, high end mechanical retracting full length sunroof, beautiful two tone lacquer paint, and classic period plastic and vinyl interior tastefully executed. At that time however parts and technical information were impossible, (it’s much easier now ironically), and various issues coupled with a young kids lack of general knowledge, forced a still regretted sale.
You always get the most interesting pictures!! I’m going to have to read this in stages. I want to drink it all in.
My Dad had a DKW Junior for a while when I was around 10 and I loved it! It was such a characterful engine, and it entrenched my love of column shift, and white steering wheels. As a child sitting in the car pretending to drive was endless entertainment.
Hard to choose a favourite here!! But I’ll go with the DKW Hebmuller Luxus 3 door coupe.
+1. I’ll be coming back to this again and again, There’s way too much for me to take in on one cup of coffee! I thought I was reasonably au fait with these cars, but as always tatra87 has unearthed way more that I didn’t know. And no wonder those ‘first’ sixties Audis looked like little Mercs! Even as a kid I could see the similarity, but just put it down to ‘German design’.
It’s always a good morning when it starts with tatra87 for automotive history class!
+2. T87’s output is nothing short of extraordinary. His knowledge is first rate, his stories and images enlightening and I still can’t get my head around the fact that he is producing all this from Myanmar. This canon is a great addition to CC.
+87!
Thanks for your very kind words, guys. Great to know these are actually getting read and appreciated.
I’ll be moving out if Myanmar in a couple of weeks — which, after four years, is not a moment too soon. The T87 family will be on the road for a few months, but hopefully that won’t stop me from writing more. With any luck, what I’ll encounter on the curbs of other countries will be more interesting than what I find here.
In which case let me add my thanks for this series too and wish you the safest passage in your travels.
Another terrific article by Tatra87! While i was looking around the net for pictures of some of the subject cats, I ran across this thing. It’s identified as a 1963 Auto Union 1000 SP Roadster Wankel. Can’t seem to find any hard info.
Here’s a picture under the hood.
Thanks for this very complete article. Let me just point out some extra information about IASFSA, the Argentinian connection:
1. The range also hosted the Schnellaster range of commercial vehicles, tough not many were produced. They even introduced the new design that is featured in the ’64 range picture in 1969, but due to the end of production several months later, the tooling was sold to the State-owned DINFIA and production resumed as the Rastrojero F71 until 1979.
2. The Fissore coupe was never offered in cabriolet form. The main difference with the German one was the roof. About 711 of these were made and they are famous because the beloved tango-singer Julio Sosa died in a car accident driving a Fissore.
3. Regarding the Brazilian Fissore, apparently another draw back was that the body was extremely heavy for the two-stroke. The car looked good but was terribly slow and in some roads that climbed the ‘morros’ it was forbidden.
4. Curious data: the Wartburg 311 was shortly manufactured by the State-owned DINFIA as the Graciela Wartburg. So we might say that in Argentina we also had the option between East and west Germany’s two-strokes.
Thanks again for your awesome articles.
Thanks for the additional info!
But I’m not sure about your statement that the Argentinian Fissore’s “main difference” with the German 1000SP was the roof — they are different in almost every aspect. I don’t think one body panel or trim piece is identical, except perhaps the rear lights and the windshield. The Argentinian coupe was clearly the better-looking one, IMHO.
Taking a closer look at both bodies, I agree with you. Also I do think that Fissore did a fine restyling and looks much modern than the original 1000SP.
A very interesting journey, full of great info and pictures. Helped make the murky history of DKW much clearer!
That Benz W118 prototype is quite interesting–never realized they were considering making a car that size!
In 1968 I was semi-shopping in San Jose on a Stevens Creek Blvd. used-car lot. The two that I could afford – somewhere around $200 each – were a very used TR3 that drove a lot better than it looked, and one of those plywood-bodied DKW 2-stroke twins from the mid-to-late Thirties, a roadster exactly like the one in the photo here, only (as you’d expect) showing even more wear than the TR, and with no fraulein behind the wheel. I was offered a drive in that too, but a good look at the oil-soaked plywood around the engine, plus the fact that the lights weren’t working while the day was darkening, made that not an attractive notion. I had every intention of coming back the next day but never did.
Spectacular article Tatra87! A variety of DKW models were sold in New Zealand throughout the 1950s and 60s until the Audi-badged F103 was launched here. The DKWs we got were all right-hand-drive, and as we were still closely connected to Britain, I presume ours were British-spec.
I became aware of DKW/Auto Union cars in the early 1980s, when I’d walk past an Auto Union 1000 on my way to school every day, and found the styling intriguing – although a strange blend of 30s/40s/50s, it was strangely and inexplicably attractive. It seemed mysterious too, as I recognised the four-ringed badge on it but didn’t understand the lineage between it and the Audi 200T my late Uncle owned at the time. I was only about 13 then, so eventually learned about the connection.
There must have been a reasonable number of the DKW/Auto Union models sold here, as I still see them puttering around occasionally – most recently a month ago when one appeared at a local charity event car display. There are currently three for sale here on Trade Me too – a DKW 3=6 (pictured below next to the seller’s Junior), an Auto Union 1000, and a Junior.
Anyway, thank you again Tatra87, for a fascinating article.
My cars will at least two of those you’ve seen about in NZ, Scott. It is thought that about 550 DKW/Auto Union cars were sold new in NZ. The current survivor tally is 65 cars – so that’s better than 10% survival rate. Here’s a photo of my two.
I’ve seen one a similar shade of cream as yours, it was in Thames recently. Have never seen a green one though, and not sure if I’ve seen any two-doors either, so thanks for the photo of yours – they both look fab! The one I used to walk past in the 1980s was a silver or grey one and was in Putaruru. It was there for a decade or more.
I was in Thames with the green one a few months ago, at the Coromandel Gold Rush & Gumdiggers Charity Cruise. My friend John Farmer from Whitianga was there in his ’58 F94 3=6 ( posted all the photos here: http://www.vask.org.nz/index.php/topic,41255.msg449411.html#msg449411 )
– here’s a photo of the two of them at Ellerslie;
My brother in law had a DKW as his first car in Whangarei it did not last long, though Im told it was a one little old lady car before he got, a lead footed teen may not have helped its survival.
I saw a DKW in Thames a while ago, now I know whose it was.
Fantastic article! Did I read correctly that the 4 stroke engine that was used on the Audi 90’s was originally a Mercedes design?
Yep, and they weren’t coy about it, either.
Very nice article!
My mother drove a 1964 Brazilian DKW with suicide front door up to 1972. It was only an eight years old car by then but looked and behaved almost Jurassic – as a young boy then I truly hated it.
I found this one and a wagon early this year in a small town near São Paulo, the ignition keys are visible below the shift column.
and a few more pics
https://www.flickr.com/photos/146186930@N03/32145640571
here in the stream
https://www.flickr.com/photos/146186930@N03/32145640571/in/photostream/
Like the look of the Mercedes-Benz W118 prototype (a 2-litre version would have been pretty appealing) though wonder why Mercedes-Benz were reluctant to produce it given the car would have allowed them to compete with the BMW 02, would have also been interesting seeing both Mercedes and DKW / Audi versions being produced (the latter with the Bertone styling proposal).
Why were DKW unwilling to give up on 2-stroke engines even with Mercedes-Benz allowing them to move to 4-stroke engines or at least have been open to developing a large 1175cc+ 4-stroke 3-cylinder with fuel-injection, was it conservatism on DKW;s part or something else entirely?
An interesting variant not mentioned in the article is that from 1960, DKW developed a V6 engine known as the Muller-Anderbach motor planned for the DKW Munga and F102 weighing 84 kg by combining two three-cylinder two-stroke engines (initially designed as a boat engine with displacement sizes up to 1600cc). Initially with a capacity of 1000cc prior to being increased to 1288cc, which developed 83 hp (62 kW) at 5,000 rpm using the standard configuration with two carburettors. while four-carburettor and six-carburettor versions produced 100 hp (75 kW) and 130 hp (97 kW) respectively.
I guess M-B preferred to keep their somewhat upscale image back in those days. They studied small and FWD mid-sized cars for a good while, but they had been pretty badly burned by their foray into rear-engined cars in the ’30s, which didn’t go all that well.
Regarding DKW’s pigheadedness on the two-stroke, from what I understand, it really was that DKW engineering were convinced that it was the best solution for their cars. You might call it conservative, or even sectarian, but they were apparently thinking two-stroke engines, which they had perfected for decades with great success, were the pinnacle of motor engineering. It took VW’s lab boys a few nudges and mergers to get them to look beyond air-cooled flat engines, too…
Thanks for the two-stroke V6 details — left that out for space reasons, but I was sure you’d chime in… 🙂
Not quite sure how the Mercedes-Benz W118 would have been able to compete against sporting versions of the BMW 02 given its FWD layout even if the Audi F103’s engine was capable of being being enlarged to a 2-litre, part me of also wonders whether the Audi F103 engine is related to the Volkswagen EA831 engine that powered the Porsche 924 and Volkswagen LT Van.
Had DKW been willing how difficult would it have been for DKW to develop a 1600cc+ 4-stroke version of the 2-stroke Muller-Anderbach V6 engine or a similar small lightweight 2000cc+ 4-stroke V6 unit, essentially creating the sort of engine that would have likely helped one particular car in Part 3 of this recent German Deadly Sins (that would have been significantly lighter then the V4/V6 replacement engines).
Seems a few carmakers apparently converted their engines from 2-strokes to 4-strokes.
Convert a 2-stroke to 4-stroke? I’m not aware of anyone attempting that, as he two are so different fundamentally that there’s nothing to share. It would be utter folly to even consider such a thing.
Yes, the Audi F103 engine is very much related to the later 2 liter VW/Porsche engine. It was a further development with a new SOHC head and enlarged displacement.
Perhaps though have heard of it allegedly being done by Japanese and Eastern Bloc / Soviet carmakers.
Though speculative it makes me wonder whether Mercedes-Benz would have developed the Audi F103 engine along similar lines or initially just increased the displacement to 2-litres had Mercedes went ahead with the W118 along the DKW F102 / Audi F103.
DKW proposed two-strokes as an ideal engineering solution because it had very few moving parts. They thought that this feature decreased the probability of breakdowns, made reparations easier, brought production costs down, and, in my opinion, was an elegant fulfillment of engineer’s desire for straightforward solutions.
And these cars had a niche that followed them, at least here in Argentina. There were very brisky and demanded you to drive them in a particular fashion due to the free-wheeling and the need to keep the engine hi-reved to avoid grime in the spark-plugs.
Would it have been possible for DKW to reduce the air pollution issues of it’s 2-stroke engines with fuel-injection? Know Ford looked into direct-injection 2-stroke engines during the late-80s / early-90s that were tested in Mk3 Ford Fiestas (seen in a 1992 Episode of Top Gear) for possible use in the original Ford Ka.
If memory serves, there were two German cars with two-stroke engines and Bosch mechanical fuel injection during the ’50s. The Goliath 700 (Borgward group) and the Gutbrod Superior. A friend of mine moved around in one of these Gutbrods: it was a 2-door, twin seat coupé with retractable roof. Rather noisy and harsh riding. Luckily for my friend his father had a workshop because the thing needed constant attention to stay on the road.
Good article – thank you. You may also wish to mention the Spanish variety – in Spain the van was further developed an ended as the Mercedes Benz MB 100 with a very different style. Those were also sold in the EU and there are the one or two still roaming the streets in Austria.
Quite right — the DKW F1000 van (designed by Fissore, again) was built in Spain, and that’s the one DKW vehicle that Daimler took with them when they sold DKW to VW. They’re in that “64 Programm” photo at the back, with the Munga, another DKW vehicle I elected to elude when I wrote this to focus more on passenger cars.
Very good and interesting article ; one small correction however : if some Horch 930S were made after the war, the car pictured is not one of them but an Horch 920 – an East-German attempt… Finally, they made the Horch – later Sachsenring – P240…
I have always been confused by DKW and Auto Union, but this finally explains it. Unfortunately I probably won’t remember it all. Growing up in the Toronto suburbs in the 50s one neighbour across the street had an Auto Union 1000 (or was it a DKW?). A very strange car for suburbia.
Thanks for a great history that fills in the blanks on the DKW. I’m saving this article. Tom
A German next door neighbor bought one of those 1000’s (a ’61 if I recall) in 1965. It had two melted pistons so I helped him pull and disassemble the engine. By the spring of ’66 he had the parts from Germany and I helped him put it back together. It was a neat little car and I was amazed by the 4 speed on the tree.
I’d love to have one today.