From the Race Shop Floor: A Story of Motorcycle Racing

By Hedley J. Cox

This is the inside story of how motorcycle race team of the 'forties worked. How a division in the company's outlook drove it to bankruptcy. The story of how a member of the racing team saw it all. How he participated in racing, and devised a new machine, but was swept aside. How he emigrated, and tried to get a factory to embrace a new world view but was frustrated again. Lessons that Detroit might heed. How he moved into an academic program, and aided the US Air Force in its search for lower costs.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 6, 2009
• ISBN: 9781465324474

Hedley J. Cox

The author has always been fascinated by motorcycles. When young he was a racing mechanic for a famous firm, then, took up racing himself. When his firm folded, he came to America, and entered the same Industry there. He was frustrated at its inability to enlarge its perceptions, so entered academia, which enabled him to solve problems that had baffled his former employers.

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CHAPTER 1

A START AT VELOCE LTD.

I lived in Britain in 1947. The War had been over for two years. My family and I had survived a few near-misses by German bombs, and were very happy at the Allied victory. In spite of the end of the war, though, life in Britain remained bleak for most people. Almost everything was rationed, in very short supply., or just unobtainable. Everyone struggled to obtain the necessities of life, but it was difficult. There was a black market for lots of things, and spivs were very busy on it, making themselves big and illegal profits. The war had almost bankrupted the British economy. To survive what had seemed once to be overwhelming Axis power, the nation had borrowed heavily abroad, mainly from America. Now the debt had to be repaid. Export or Die was the slogan, dinned into the populace by radio, speeches, and by signs and posters everywhere. Most people showed a quiet optimism. In company with their allies, America and Russia, they had defeated the mighty powers of Germany, Italy and Japan, although once surrender had seemed inevitable. Things were tight now, but they were bound to improve. We were a patient and stoic people.

I was sixteen, and lived with my parents and younger brother in a small village, called Wyboston, about twelve miles North of Bedford, which itself was fifty miles north of London. My family had moved there from London in 1939. My brother, Alan, and I used to catch the bus every morning to go to school in Bedford. We heard the German bombers fly over at night, but there was nothing to attack there, although the reflection of the moon on the nearby greenhouses might have given the illusion of factories, and a bomb did once fall fifty yards from our house. The family huddled under a big oak table, except for my Father, who was out on Home Guard duties. Several enemy bombers were brought down near us, and we scrambled all over them looking for souvenirs, after the military had finished with them. Bits of German flyers were scattered about amongst the wreckage, a grim reminder of what war was all about. At night we would go outside and look to the south, where there was often a red glow in the sky. We knew that was London burning from the Luftwaffe heavy night bombing raids. Later in the war we saw many U.S. servicemen in Bedford, and on the local buses. We often used to find used condoms around in the fields, souvenirs of their occupation, and the tendency of local girls to drop their panties to foreign servicemen.

Towards the end of the war, my Father bought three old motorcycles from a garage, where they lay on the scrap heap, and gave them to my brother and me. They were a 1924 (approximately) 250 cc two-stroke Royal Enfield, with a round tank, a 1929 250 BSA with a square tank, and a 1930 350 BSA with a saddle tank. Both BSA’s had side-valve engines, with hand shift, and the smaller one had a broken conn rod. They were all really wrecks, but Alan and I spent many hours scraping off rust, dissembling them, and trying to put them together again in working order. That was my introduction to motorcycles.

We never got the Royal Enfield to fire up, but I had the conn rod of the 250 BSA welded at work, and got it going, and the 350 BSA ran fairly well. I later sold the 250 BSA to a fellow student at work, but after a short time, the conn rod broke again, just under the weld. I don’t remember what happened to the other two.

At sixteen I graduated from high school in Bedford, with a fairly good Cambridge School Certificate (no level A’s or B’s in those days), and obtained work as a student at a marine engineering works in Bedford. This entailed experience in most departments of the factory, from foundry, through pattern shop, machine shops, electrical departments, fitting shops, test bays and drawing offices. The firm’s products were marine diesel engines and electrical generators for ships. I spent a few months in each department, over a three year period. My Father died of cancer during this time. Then I was given work overhauling ships’ engines in Govan, Glasgow.

It was winter, 1947, and, although sharing rooms with another ex-student, I found life and work rather depressing. Crawling about inside big diesel engines, frequently with little light, and trying to overhaul them didn’t seem like much of a life to me. It was cold, dark and wet in Glasgow, and we couldn’t find much to do in our time off. I decided there must be a better life somewhere, so I wrote to several motorcycle factories, asking for a job. I had tried this several months before, with no result. But I thought I’d try again.

The initial results were not good. Norton, Ariel, Enfield and Vincent could offer nothing. BSA told me I’d be better off staying where I was. But a letter from a Mr Harris at Veloce Ltd said they had an opening in their Experimental Department, and would I come for an interview? This was marvelous, far better than I had expected. The maker of one of the top-ranking racing firms was almost offering me a job. Practically, anyway. I was going home to Bedford for Christmas, so arranged to take a train trip to Birmingham during that time for the interview. I had been to the Isle of Man the previous June for the T T races, which were just starting up again after the war, and had been impressed by what I saw of the Velocette racing machines there. They had won the first four places in the Junior event, and obtained a third place in the Senior race. Veloce Ltd was a fairly small manufacturer of motorcycles, but its products had a name as a quality machine, that was slightly more expensive than the mass-produced machines of other makers. Its good name was largely based on its successes in road racing.

I presented myself at the Works’ gates one afternoon, and spoke to Mr Harris, the Employment Manager. After a short talk, he handed me over to Bertram Goodman, the Racing Manager. Mr Goodman was a solidly built young man, probably in his mid-twenties. (I found out later, that he had been born in 1920). He had fair, curly hair, and an engaging manner. He took me for a walk through the factory, and into the Racing Department, which was located in a big garage. He said he would be able to start me as soon as I left my present employer. This was soon done, although the Labor Exchange tried to say I must stay in shipbuilding, as that was an occupation of national importance. Still, I told them I had already given my notice, and one nineteen year old lad would hardly affect the country’s balance of payments to any noticeable degree. So they let me go.

I wrote to a cousin in Birmingham, and arranged to stay with his family at first, then took the train there, and presented myself for my first day’s work on February 2, 1948. I was taken to the Race Shop, which had now moved to one end of a big Nissen hut, and handed over to Frank Panes, the Chief Racing mechanic.

CHAPTER 2

A SHORT HISTORY OF VELOCE LTD.

The following is a shortened history of Veloce Ltd, a unique motorcycle manufacturer located in Birmingham, England.

The company was founded in 1905 by Johannes Gutgemann, who moved to Britain from Germany, and adopted the name John Taylor. He became a naturalized British subject in 1911, and changed his name to John Goodman in 1917. He had two sons, Percy and Eugene, and a daughter, Ethel. He went into the motorcycle manufacturing business (Veloce Ltd) in Birmingham. All of his children were brought into the firm. Percy had a son, named Bertram, and Eugene had a son named Clifford, who was always known as Peter.

One of their first motorcycles sold for forty-two pounds. Sporting events were seen to be a good advertisement for their products, and were supported early on. Eugene and a Mr Denley, who later married Ethel Goodman, were successful competitors in many events. The Junior TT was entered in 1913 with a 344 cc machine, ridden by C. Pullin, but it finished last, due to oil on the drive belt. Eugene won many medals in trials, and became Works Manager in 1916.

The firm initially made only two-stroke motorcycles, but in 1923 made a four-stroke, called the model K, designed by Percy. It had an overhead camshaft, and won the 1926, 1928 and 1929 Junior TT’s, which was very meritous for such a small company, (the 1926 race was won by ten minutes). All this time, the two-stroke was also made, and many trials and other events entered. Output of the K model was 50 per week.

In 1926 the father of a Mr Harold Willis purchased a directorship in the firm for his son. Harold had ridden in the TT, and now took over the racing section from Percy. Harold was second in the 1927 and 1928 Junior TT’s. He designed and made the first positive stop foot gear shift, which is now universal. The company also pioneered the swinging arm rear suspension, which is also used now by all manufacturers. Many other innovations were made, showing the firm’s pioneering spirit, and more events were entered and won.

John Goodman died in 1929. Surprisingly, he never learned to drive a car

The 1928 TT win resulted in the building of the KTT model for sale in 1929. This famous model gave private owners a machine that could compete, with a good chance of success, against factory racers. It was modified year by year, and became one of the most sought-after single-cylinder racing models ever made. Veloce won both 1938 and 1939 Junior TT’s., and many entrants rode KTT models. The standard line of four-stroke and two-stroke machines was continued in production right up until the war in 1939. Velocette machines were regarded as being of high quality, although the clutch was always an object of suspicion, being of a different design from the conventional type Veloce profit rose constantly through 1939, which were Depression years for most manufacturers. In 1939 its profit was over twenty thousand pounds.

The company was constantly innovating. In 1928 Harold Willis built a KTT with a sprung rear wheel, and in 1931 a supercharged KTT, both for the TT, but they were unsuccessful. He also worked on the Aspin rotary valve in an engine he built and tested, but which didn’t come up to expectations. He rode in many TT races, and his forward looking spirit drove the firm to be one of the leaders of the industry. It showed his enterprise and initiative. The company’s continuing success in competition gave it much unpaid advertising, and prestige, which helped sell its products. In 1929 Veloce entered the utility market for the first time with the 250 cc GTP two-stroke model. The directors felt that there was a large, untapped market for such a machine. Many people walked, rode bicycles or buses for everyday travel. The GTP was fairly successful, but not a barn burner.

Eugene and Charles Udall, the Chief Designer, built and developed the M series models for road use, starting in 1933. The KTT’s were specialized racing machines, made individually, and required skilled fitters and testers, while the M models could be made in volume with relatively unskilled labor, so were less costly to make. Yet they were of high quality, and found a ready market.

In 1935, for the first time, the Senior class races were entered, with 500cc machines, instead of the 350 cc bikes used before. Rear suspension was reintroduced on the racers in 1936. Many successes were now obtained in both classes up until the war started. Reliability trials were also entered and won. But continental supercharged multi-cylinder racing machines were beginning to catch up and beat British single-cylinder models by now, so Harold and Percy fought back by building a 500 cc supercharged twin cylinder racer. It became known as the Roarer a name Willis gave it because of its sound on the test bench. But the advent of the war curtailed this effort. However, it was a notable enterprise, and completed one practice lap in the Isle of Man. This machine was also built for sale to the public, in a touring version, known as the model O but this was rather ugly, hardly comparable in looks to the industry leader in twins, Triumph. Only one was ever made. Like the racer, it had two contra-rotating crankshafts, joined by gears, to reduce vibration, which made it rather wide and heavy, but satisfied Percy’s purist ideals of a smooth-running engine. A success with the racing version might have made it acceptable to the market.

Harold Willis unfortunately died on the day of his firm’s Junior TT win in 1939, due partly to injuries sustained in the battle of Jutland, in the first World War. His loss to the company was profound. He was always looking ahead, willing to invest in any promising new venture. His and Percy’s design of the KTT won Junior TT’s in 1938, 1939, 1947, and 1948, plus many World Championships, Junior class. It was also built in a 500 cc Senior version, but only for use by Works riders.

67361-COX1-layout.pdf

Front view of the Roarer.

Taken by H. Cox 1991

Roarer in New Zealand with Bruce Anderson

Just before and after the war, Peter Goodman showed he was a natural racer, and he scored many wins. He was in charge of the Racing Dept after the war, and raced personally with great success. However, a serious injury in a minor race at Strasbourg ended his racing career. The result was that Eugene, his father, and Ethel, his aunt decided to reduce participation in racing. Percy disagreed, but was outvoted. His brother and sister still thought that there was a large market for a utility type vehicle, for which they had marketed the GTP model in 1929. Designer Phil Irving had made an initial layout for such a machine, and Charles Udall, the Company designer, carried the design a lot further while recuperating from an operation. A prototype was built during the war. The aim was to make a motorcycle that would be accepted by people everywhere who were now pedestrians, cyclists or bus riders. There seemed to be a huge market world wide for such a machine after the deprivations of the war. The new model, which was known as the LE (for Little Engine.) was extremely quiet, and had weather protection, hand starting, and luggage capacity. Until this model was announced, Veloce continued racing, in a modest way, financed largely by three enthusiasts, Mansell, Spring and Wilkins, who engaged star riders and entered successfully races all over Europe. Veloce provided the machines and a mechanic, and reaped a lot of publicity from the wins. This policy greatly enhanced the firm’s reputation, even though the bikes weren’t official Works entries.

The war effort by Veloce was mainly in aircraft equipment work, although 1200 MAC (350 cc) motorcycles were made for the French army. Most of these were sunk by U-boats at sea, though. Later, 4,500 machines (MAF) were sold to the Government, a small number compared to those supplied by BSA, Norton and Matchless. The average profit during the war years (1940-1945) was 21,522 pounds. The above three firms made and sold motorcycles to the military all during the war, so were ready for instant production when peace came. Not only that, they bought back thousands of ex-army machine at low rates, and quickly modified them for civilian use. Veloce was not as lucky, having supplied only a few motorcycles to the military.

The success of the Velocette racing machines in post-war events against their Norton rivals was great, and can be laid to the quality of the fuel available. Before the war this was a 50-50 mixture of petrol-benzole, which allowed high compression ratios to be employed in the engines. The volume of the combustion chamber, with the piston at top dead center, of the 350 cc KTT Velocette was 35 cc, which gives a compression ratio of 10.9:1. No doubt the Norton was similar. The Velocette cylinder head was cast in Y alloy aluminum, and had inserted valve seats to resist the wear and hammer from the valves. The Norton cylinder head comprised a bronze skull with aluminum finning cast around it. The bronze took the hammering of the valves without the need for inserts.

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KTT Velocettes taken at a race meeting in New Zealand

After the war, the only fuel available was a low grade of pool, with an octane rating of 72. High compression ratios were impossible using this fuel. The engines couldn’t get rid of the heat quickly, and would seize up. So compression ratios had to be reduced. In turn, this reduced the power, and the speed. The Velocette’s compression space was changed to 51 cc, giving a compression ratio of 7.8:1. The top speed of the 350 was now about 108 mph at 7,000 rpm.

But the Norton make was in trouble. The heat flow could not travel easily past the joint between the bronze skull and the aluminum fins. The developers had to reduce the compression ratio considerably because of this. The speed suffered. The result was that the 500 cc Norton was little better than the 350 cc Velocette, and the 350 Nortons were much worse. If Nortons increased their compression ratio to try and match the speed of their rivals, the engines would overheat and seize up. If they made their engines reliable, they were too slow. The first four places of Velocettes in the 1947 Junior TT illustrated this, as did the Senior second place showing of private Norton owner, Bill Doran, after only Artie Bell remained of the Works Norton entries.

The Norton Race Chief, Joe Craig, didn’t seem to realize this. He kept the bronze/aluminum head construction on his racing bikes until 1950, when a new employee, Leo Kutzmiki, changed it to use the same all-aluminum head as the Velocettes. Until then, the Nortons were too slow to win. Joe Craig was an Irishman, and had complete control of the Norton racing program. He was rather stubborn, and clung to the Norton single-cylinder engine for racing, even though it was demonstrated many times that the Continental racing twin and four-cylinder machines were faster. He relied on the superior handling qualities of his firm’s machines to beat its faster rivals, especially on twisty circuits that had many corners. This worked for a time, but it couldn’t last, and his riders were put at greater risk trying to outrun their competitors by going faster on the corners.

Veloce, too, clung to the single-cylinder racing machine. AJS made a racing twin, called the Porcupine from the spiky fins on its cylinder head. It started off well, winning one World Championship, but faded with time, and was not a serious contestant after that.

I started work as a racing mechanic at Veloce Ltd on 2nd February 1948.

CHAPTER 3

THE KTT VELOCETTE.

Frank Panes was the Chief Racing Mechanic. He was a big, dark, friendly sort of fellow, married, with a little daughter, and had a broad Devonshire accent. I always got on well with him, and we became good friends. He really knew his way around the racing engines and bikes. He had been in the army during the war, and had served in Africa. Now he rode a very nice 350 cc KSS Velocette. He assigned me a place at a bench that ran along one wall of the Nissen hut, and showed me what my job would be. He pointed to a stack of impressive-looking engines with big aluminum fins sitting on the concrete floor, near the door. These, he told me, were the 350 cc KTT racing engines, that were to be tested, built into frames and sold to the racing public.

Before, and just after the war, each KTT motorcycle had been assembled individually, by two or three skilled mechanics. But, with the big successes over the rival Norton make in 1947, the demand had increased tremendously, so it had been decided to mass produce them. The engine assembly work had been given to the workers who usually assembled the KSS model, which was the road-going machine broadly similar to the racing KTT, but without the latter’s special characteristics that increased its power so greatly. The engine of the KSS model was built up on the engine assembly bench, coupled to a gearbox, and assembled into a frame. That was fine for road work. But the KTT engine was very different. Many of its parts required careful hand assembly. When done, the engines were put onto a test bench, and run to give a specified power. If they were underpowered, they would have to be stripped and worked on by the racing mechanics until that power was reached.

However, there had been a lack of communication somewhere along the line. The engine bench knew little or nothing of the quality of the work required. Consequently, when put on the test bench,