Embarrassing failure, world-beating success, ambitious innovation. British Racing Motors was a little of all these things and more during its quarter of a century in Formula 1. The early and late years of BRM were ignominious but in between it achieved its original aim of winning at the pinnacle of motorsport and showing that British engineering could compete with the best in the world.
Raymond Mays and Peter Berthon had tasted some success before the Second World War with English Racing Automobiles, and even before hostilities were over ex-racer Mays had sent his ‘White Paper’ to selected firms in British industry, presenting the idea of an all-British project to build the finest grand prix car in the world. Oliver Lucas of Joseph Lucas Ltd and Alfred Owen of the Rubery Owen engineering company were key early supporters and many others followed, with the promise of financial support and/or the supply of parts, materials and expertise. A BRM Association supporters’ club was also set up and the press, both specialist and general, soon got behind the idea of taking on the Italians in GP racing.
Famously, things went wrong almost from the start of the project, based at the Old Maltings behind Eastgate House at Bourne, Mays’s home. Berthon’s 1.5-litre, two-stage supercharged, 135-degree V16-engined P15 set one of BRM’s defining features early on: ambitious complexity. “It was very complicated and now we realise it was over-engineered,” recalls Dick Salmon, who joined BRM at the end of 1950 and was soon promoted onto the race team as a mechanic. “It was fantastic but it was time-consuming and difficult to work on. Peter Berthon was also a difficult man – I couldn’t read him all the time I was there.”
Parts delays as businesses