24h Le Mans
Hans Herrmann is a bona fide legend whose legacy is ripe with jaw-dropping achievements and phenomenal stories. His career is so accomplished it can be difficult to grasp in its full magnitude. At 96 years young, Herrmann is just as passionate as ever, clearly immune to the ravages of time.
Industrial activity and the lives of millions of people were heavily impacted at the height of WWII in Stuttgart, Germany. In the city, a humble apprentice pastry chef worked to perfect his skills with any means available. Hans Herrmann, born in 1928, preferred baking to war, shutting out the surrounding chaos by daydreaming of himself of racing cars. With no flour, eggs or other essential ingredients to be had, he had plenty of time to adore his childhood heroes, Rudolf Caracciola and Bernd Rosemeyer, two German icons in whose footsteps he would love to follow.
Herrmann's mother understood his passion and decided to help him follow his dream in 1951 by selling the gold bracelet his father had given her before he was killed in 1936. The money should be enough for her son to buy a car. Herrmann had already been racing for some time, but only with a poorly performing car shared with several other young hopefuls. He and his newly acquired Porsche 356 1100cc became inseparable.
Herrmann made his first appearance in a circuit race in 1952. His raw talent quickly drew attention and little by little he made a name for himself in his home country. Thanks to a stunning performance at a rain-soaked Nürburgring, he got noticed by Porsche. The German carmaker immediately recruited him for the 1953 24 Hours of Le Mans. At that time, Porsche was not yet the behemoth we know today. The marque had only been founded in 1948 and competing in the 24 Hours since 1951, with no wins yet on the books. But, it did have an extremely well-performing 550 Coupé. The only two cars entered snatched the top two spots in the Sport 1.5 L category, and with his career only just beginning, Herrmann was already in the points.
Though Herrmann was failing to win the most prestigious European races of the season, he continued to impress. During the 1954 Mille Miglia, the famous endurance road race in Italy, disaster almost struck. When he arrived in the village of Chieti in his Porsche 550 Spyder, he came upon a blind corner followed by a set of gates in the process of closing. With the marshal not in the right place to warn him, Herrmann had no choice but to put the pedal to the metal, and with his free hand push down the head of his co-driver, Herbert Linge, and lower his own. The car made it under the gates. Herrmann could never master the Mille Miglia. The 1955 running, where he failed to win in the final moments, remains his greatest career regret. He then retried his chances at Le Mans with a Porsche 550 RS 1500 along with Helmut Polensky, but their headlights failed them on Sunday morning.
Mercedes-Benz, the other major carmaker in Stuttgart, hired Herrmann for Formula 1 to join the great Juan Manuel Fangio. Unfortunately, the marque abruptly withdrew from all competition in 1955 following the infamous and devastating accident at Le Mans. Luckily, Porsche was waiting in the wings.
Herrmann never failed to show up at the 24 Hours for his team, though without much success. In 1956, he shared the wheel of a 550 A with Umberto Maglioli, but a piston cut their race short in the 16th hour. One year later, he tried his hand again with Richard von Frankenberg with a 550 A RS. As it had in 1955, the car's lighting dashed all hope after eight hours of racing.
Herrmann hoped to return to Formula 1, but was unable to secure a seat. Porsche still trusted him in endurance racing, and in 1958, he achieved a positive result at the 24 Hours. At the wheel of a 718 RSK, he and Jean Behra claimed the third step on the overall podium and won the Sport 2.0 L category. Both performed flawlessly in the rain, despite ongoing brake troubles. Herrmann was less fortunate in 1959, still with a 718 RSK and Maglioli, he was once again forced to retire (engine failure).
His single-seater career wasn't taking off. However, he had continued to work with various teams since 1957, sometimes at the wheel of a Maserati for Scuderia Centro Sud, or with a Cooper-Maserati or for BRM. It was with the latter that Herrmann earned his nickname. During the 1959 German F1 Grand Prix with an AVUS near Berlin, he experienced the worst thing a racing driver can: brake failure. The circuit had just two corners linked by two long straights. Arriving near one of these sizable hairpins, his car began to flip.
Miraculously, Herrmann was ejected directly to the ground. Stunned but unhurt, he watched his BRM P25 disintegrate just a few meters away. Everyone began calling him Hans im Glück (Hans in Luck), the original title of the Brothers Grimm fairy tale.
His loyal backer, Porsche, then called upon Herrmann for its Formula 1 programme, but he took the start in only one Grand Prix in 1960 in addition to his participation in endurance racing classics. Besides competing in the 24 Hours (retirement due to engine failure), he won the 12 Hours of Sebring with Olivier Gendebien. He also triumphed at the Targa Florio, another Italian road race, and in 1961, finished seventh at Le Mans with Edgar Barth. As Herrmann was then already 33 years old, Porsche felt it had better chances in F1 with Dan Gurney and Jo Bonnier. His dreams of Grand Prix were over. Still representing Porsche, he finished seventh at the 1962 24 Hours again with Barth. And then he left.
Herrmann packed his bags and joined Abarth, a renowned Italian constructor-preparer, who needed a professional driver to assist with development. Porsche had ended its Formula 1 programme at the end of the season. Herrmann's calendar consisted of hill races and more modest events. Though he was sometimes disconcerted by less disciplined methods than those to which he had been accustomed (for example, at one event his mechanics had forgotten to fill his car with petrol), he did have some success. As a result of his new schedule, the German driver was absent from Le Mans for several years.
The seasons passed and weariness set in. A turning point came in 1965 when his team's car once again failed him. At the end of the year, Herrmann returned to his home country, ready to reclaim his destiny and be nearer to his son Dino. Porsche called upon him as it had in the good old days. His preparation for the 1966 24 Hours was no walk in the park as prototypes had greatly evolved in the interim. He shared the wheel of a 906/6 LH with Herbert Linge, once again taking on the biggest endurance race in the world. The duo finished an impressive fifth overall and second in its category.
Victory at Le Mans felt attainable for Porsche. In 1967, Herrmann and Swiss driver Jo Siffert took the start with the sharper 907. Another fifth place only spurred the team on. The 1968 season kicked off promisingly with wins at the Rolex 24 at Daytona and 12 Hours of Sebring. At Le Mans, however, the 908 suffered a defective clutch before nightfall. With the arrival of the formidable 917 the following year, the race was all but promised to Porsche.
Herrmann was not entrusted with the new 917 as it was terribly feared by its drivers and even more so by their opponents. Hans im Glück and Gérard Larrousse drove a long version 908 to improve its top speed. The 1969 24 Hours is known as a legendary running of the race.
The walking start by Jacky Ickx and death of John Woolfe paved the way for an epic battle between the #6 Ford GT40 of Ickx/Oliver and the #64 908 of Herrmann/Larrousse. In the final lap, Ickx managed to keep the German driver and his Porsche at bay, beating him by only 120 metres. Undoubtedly, Herrmann's mind was flooded with what-ifs, like the crippling loss of 20 minutes at the start for a suspension repair. He had been so close to the win.
In 1970, Herrmann's wife Magdalena asked him to hang up his helmet for good, and he promised her he would after the 24 Hours of Le Mans. In the meantime, he had worked to refine the 917 and make it more reliable. For that running, he was head driver in a short version 917 K entered by the official team of the Piëch family – extremely important figures in the German marque's history – under the name Porsche KG Salzburg. He was out to win after a decidedly challenging race week.
The car only qualified in P16 and, even worse, teammate Richard Attwood had the mumps! In endless downpours over Le Mans, the duo kept a patient pace, and won with a five-lap lead. After all of the blood, sweat and tears, Herrmann had given Porsche its first win at the 24 Hours! He then honoured his promise to his wife and retired on the spot.
The extraordinary nature of Herrmann's life didn't stop there. In the early 1990s, he was kidnapped by three masked men and freed upon payment of a one million Deutsche Mark ranson. His greatest victory was not the one celebrated on 14 June 1970 at Le Mans, but having survived his career (as indicated by the title of his autobiography). He had suffered the loss of several friends in serious accidents, but himself was able to stand tall, like the hero he had always dreamed of being.
