(first posted 9/27/2016) When the Ford flathead V8 began production in 1932, the expression “game-changer” was yet to be coined – though that’s exactly what it was. Ford’s V8 changed motoring in the USA, eventually forcing all its competitors to also switch to V8s by the mid ‘50s. But one version of this engine, known in the US as the V8-60, lived longer and further than the others ever would.
I should note at this point that I will be focusing on the V8-60’s use in passenger cars made in Britain, France, the US and Germany. Before the Second World War, Fords were assembled in Argentina, Australia, Belgium, Brazil, Canada, Denmark, Egypt, Hungary, India, Ireland, Japan, Latvia, Mexico, the Netherlands, New Zealand, the Philippines, Romania, Spain and Turkey. Ford had also helped build the giant Gorki works in the Soviet Union, which produced trucks and Model As. It is possible that V8-60s powered cars assembled in one or more of these assembly plants, but precise info is hard to come by (or decipher).
Start your engines
When Henry Ford and his engineers started work on the new V8 in the late ‘20s, many (if not most) of the popular cars being made in Europe and the US had four cylinders – including Fords. But when Chevrolet came out with the Stovebolt six in 1929, it outclassed the similarly-priced Ford Model A and undercut other competitors (the next “lowest-priced six”, the ’29 Essex, was twice as expensive as the Chevy).
While others were playing catch-up to GM, Henry Ford was hurriedly preparing what he hoped would be a decisive advantage: a low-priced flathead V8 displacing 3.6 litres (221 ci), to be rolled out in the spring of 1932. The story of this venerable engine was told by others with far more depth and competence than I could ever dream of doing (I particularly recommend this article).
However, the new flathead had a little twin brother. It was virtually identical in its virtues and vices, but it was quite a bit smaller at 2227cc (136 ci) or 2.6 x 3.2 in. (66 x 81 mm) in bore and stroke. Ford was thinking of his expanding empire overseas, especially in Europe, where smaller engines were preferred. The engine’s gross output, 60 hp, was in the ball-park of European mid-size cars at the time. One of the main differences with the 3.6 was the small V8’s alloy pistons and heads (though still flat).
Great Britain’s Small V8
Ford Motor Company Ltd. (Ford UK) had been assembling cars and trucks in Manchester for 20 years when the most massive car factory in Europe was opened in Dagenham, Essex, in 1931. The Model A was impossible to sell in Britain, though. The Model Y, designed in Dearborn specifically for the European market, began its life in Dagenham in 1932, and with it was born a long lineage of small blue oval cars mostly unknown in North America.
The news of the Ford V8 did make it to Britain in due course. Percival Perry, longtime Henry Ford acolyte, director of Ford UK and in charge of all of Ford’s overseas operations, was also informed of the existence of a smaller V8, tailor-made for a new line of mid-size cars and trucks to be built in Dagenham.
It was essential to first iron out the flathead’s many flaws, which took considerable time and effort. The 2.2 litre engine was not in production yet, allowing Ford to focus on the big V8’s issues throughout 1932 and 1933. Ford V8s sold in Europe at the time were made in Dearborn, or Canada for the British market.
Dagenham introduced the small V8 in a new car for 1935, which shared the larger V8 Ford’s body. The Ford-UK lineup would now consist of three cars: the 8 HP (Model Y, or Ford Popular), the 22 HP (Model 60) and the 30 HP (same as the American Fords).
These initial versions of the small V8 were imported from Michigan. Among other oddities, they had two exhaust ports running through each block, leading most blocks to crack. This was changed to the more usual three ports in 1936; virtually all the early production 22 HP Model 60s were eventually retrofitted with the improved V8s.
The 1936 22 HP car also transitioned to a completely new and smaller body more in tune with its capacities and was renamed Model 62. This new body came from the Chausson factory in Paris. The 22 HP Model 62 remained unchanged, with its 1936 grille and separate headlights, until production stopped in 1939.
A few woodies were made by independent coachbuilders, but otherwise (and unlike the 30 HP) all 22 HPs were standard saloons. It is unclear how many of these were made, but they do not seem to have had a very strong following.
Matford: arranged marriage or shotgun wedding?
One market that Ford had its eye on since the beginning was France. It was, like most car-making countries, a highly protected market. But it was also very fragmented (over 60 different car and truck makers in the early ‘30s, though “Big Three” (Citroën, Peugeot and Renault) held 75% of the car market) and it meant access to new markets in Africa and South-East Asia. Ford SAF (Société Anonyme Française), wholly owned by Dearborn and Ford UK, had been assembling cars and trucks in its Asnières factory since 1926, but needed to expand and include more locally-made components.
The Depression, which began hitting the French economy in earnest by 1932, quickly led to higher import taxes – Ford SAF cars and trucks were assembled from mostly American- and British-made components – and therefore low margins. Ford SAF was losing money; the Model Y (called Ford 6 CV) was not selling well, the big V8s too expensive and exotic. The economic downturn was also precipitating several French concerns toward bankruptcy. Among them was the fourth biggest automaker, Mathis.
Emile Mathis had just invested massively to renovate his Strasbourg factory when the bottom fell out of the market. He had no more credit line to renew his ageing cars and needed to keep his factory running. Ford had determined that, contrary to its standard practice, chauvinistic France would be more amenable to buying Ford V8s under the guise of a more Gallic moniker. Adding Mathis’ extensive dealership network to Ford SAF’s would also be a welcome boost. This was essentially doing what GM had done with the Opel and Vauxhall buy-outs – at least on the surface.
Ford SAF director Maurice Dollfus approached Mathis with a deal: Ford SAF would merge with Mathis, using the Strasbourg plant’s capacity to build Ford engines and chassis; the Mathis range would continue with its smaller 4-cyl. models. Ford SAF would initially own 52% of the merged company and Mathis (and his creditors) would own the rest. The deal was signed in September 1934.
The new entity, Matford, started making its first model, the 3.6 litre Matford V8-66 Alsace, in early 1935. The chassis was very Ford – live axles front and rear, and mechanical brakes; it was rated by the French authorities as a 21 CV (fiscal HP) car. Bodies would be outsourced to Chausson, an industrial coachbuilder who had just acquired a license from Ambi-Budd to manufacture all-steel bodies. Dollfus knew that the 21 CV was far too large to sell in great numbers. But the small V8 was on its way…
Ford SAF gets custody of baby V8
Things unravelled rather quickly between Mathis and Ford. Dollfus viewed the Mathis range as too expensive to be competitive and an unwelcome distraction from building a strong Ford presence in France. The Strasbourg plant stopped producing Mathis cars and switched entirely to making Matfords by late 1935, just as the small V8 car appeared.
The smaller Matford V8-62 Alsace was launched at the 1935 Paris Motor Show and drew a lot of public interest. It had a reduced wheelbase and was subject to a more palatable 13 CV tax. The French and British Ford V8-62 saloons were very similar in 1936 – the main difference being the Matfords’ front suicide doors. The Matfords, however, were treated to integrated headlamps in 1937, aping the Lincoln Zephyr and the new American Ford, and subjected to yearly cosmetic touch-ups and model name changes.
The four cylinder Fords, being assembled CKD cars from Dagenham, were too expensive. Dearborn directed its French branch to stop making the Model Y (6 CV) and Model C (7 CV, a.k.a Ford Eifel) without any plans for a replacement model, much to the despair of both Mathis and Dollfus.
Emile Mathis began legal proceedings, which took several years and resulted in a Pyrrhic victory, for he won ample compensation by 1942, but never managed to resume car production. The eviction of Mathis and the failure of the small Fords left Matford’s car lineup with locally-made small V8s or the imported 3.6 – in four-door saloon or two-door convertible varieties, as well as a woody.
In 1937, Matford built just over 13,800 cars and trucks – a paltry sum compared to the Rouge, of course, but respectable for a young American upstart in Depression-riddled France. However, this was not the volume Dearborn had envisaged, and Matford was keeping afloat more thanks to its trucks than its cars.
Plans were drawn to relocate from Strasbourg to the more convenient Paris suburbs, where the older Ford plant and Chausson both were located. Besides, the lease on the Mathis plant would be up by 1940. Construction of a brand new factory began in Poissy. The small V8 was still up-to-date, though the car’s lack of both independent front suspension and hydraulic brakes was starting to look a bit old-hat by 1939.
Military orders began pouring in, wiping any remaining unsold cars and trucks, even as the Strasbourg plant was hastily evacuated due to its frontline location. The Poissy plant was opened in 1940, six weeks before the German invasion. By this time, the divorce with Mathis was consummated and the company reverted to its original name, Ford SAF, but making cars was no longer on the agenda.
Little V8 goes to a big country
Dearborn followed the progress of the small V8 in Britain and France with keen interest. The Europeans seemed to take to the new engine. Perhaps it was time to propose it to Ford’s American clientele, as the lingering Depression seemed to drag the car market further and further down. Thrift was the name of the game, so a smaller V8 might appeal to the car-buying American public of the late ‘30s.
The V8-60 (as it was called in the US, and only in the US) was included in Ford’s 1937 range. It had benefitted from its trial run in Europe and was a competent workhorse – at least compared to the V8s of 1932, though there were a few niggles. The initial V8-60 differed from European production in that its cylinder blocks were welded with alloy water jackets, presumably to improve cooling – a notorious weak point of all Ford flathead V8s. But the “tin side” V8-60 was even worse, as it quickly developed leaks. The design was changed back to the all-iron block by April 1937; soon after, the small V8’s aluminum head was also switched to cast iron. Not a great omen for the V8-60…
In the US and Canada, Ford’s small V8 was not kept in service for very long. After four model years (1937-1940), it was retired in favour of the new straight six that Henry Ford had resisted for so long. How many North American Ford cars got the V8-60? Data are elusive, but the unanimous view seems to be: “not many.” But the little engine was soon the darling of the hot rodders: although a fairly mediocre performer in stock form, the V8-60 was cheap, relatively plentiful and easy to modify.
For a couple of decades after 1937, many V8-60s were yanked out of American Ford cars and trucks, tinkered with, put on small artisanal chassis and given lightweight streamlined bodies. It was the age of the midget racers. It was relatively simple to squeeze 100 hp or more out of a V8-60, so an entire cottage industry developed to cater to this demand. Popular modifications included twin / triple / quad Strombergs, OHV heads, increased bores, special crankshafts, performance pistons, and so on.
The engine’s decent reliability (post 1937) also made it a tempting replacement for more troublesome motors: a number of V8-60s were installed in Crosleys in the ‘50s, as well as some small European cars that lacked affordable spare parts or were considered too underwhelming in stock form.
Kraft durch V8
The history of European Fords is one of complex to-and-froes directed ham-fistedly from Michigan. The German operation is a case in point. Dearborn insisted on foisting a 3.3 litre 4-cyl. Model B, known as the Ford Rheinland, upon the German market when everyone else was getting the new V8s. The Rheinland was a commercial failure, though luckily the small Fords (the Model Y, known as the Ford Köln) sold well enough.
The new factory in Cologne, built in 1929-1931 to counter GM’s purchase of Opel, did assemble CKD American V8 models. But it took a long time for Ford to settle on a modus operandi with the German regime, who mainly wanted Ford trucks for its military.
Not unlike British and French V8s, the Cologne cars were initially available with the larger engine. In 1939, the 2.2 litre V8 was finally made available in the Ford V8 G92A. It shared its handsome but heavy Ambi-Budd body with the Ford Standard 3.6 V8, launched in late 1936.
Production of the V8 G92A sedan, whose body had nothing in common with the other European V8s, was quite limited due to the outbreak of the Second World War. After 1940-41, no V8 Ford cars were made in Germany as all vehicle production shifted to trucks.
Ford-Werke AG, as it became in those days, took control of the French branch, which also began making Ford trucks for the Wehrmacht and expanded the Poissy factory. Ford engines, including the V8-60, powered all the main armies present in the European theater (except the Italian one, as Fiat had managed to keep Ford at bay).
Conclusion
Looking at the Ford’s small V8 with 20/20 hindsight, the project was a semi-success in the US and a semi-failure in Europe. American motorists were enthused by the engine’s gas mileage and, post 1937, its durability, but it was too underpowered for consumers who had gotten used to the torque of the 85hp V8 or the Model A. Europeans marvelled at the fact that they might afford an eight-cylinder car, but in these uncertain economic times, not many ended up buying one.
By the end of 1940, it is safe to say that the small V8 was no longer being used in passenger cars, though a few of the French and German models may have been put together and sold until early 1941. The engine itself remained in production for trucks and a variety of military applications. There it would remain, on either side of the Atlantic, for five long years of conflict. But this was only temporary, as we will see in part two of this article.
Part2: The Post-war European Fords Part 3: The Simca Years
Wonderful history, covering areas about which I knew absolutely nothing. Yeah, I knew Vauxhall, Opel and both the English and German Fords didn’t just spring out of thin air, but this is the first time I’ve started seeing details on what happened.
I find it interesting that the British market never got styling updates, while the French and German markets did. That doesn’t say too much about the British consumer.
Well, the big business for Ford of England was really the 8 HP cars, which were much more affordable for family car duty — £100 to buy, £8/year for tax. I suspect the smaller V-8 was in a tough position because if you could afford a big engine, you could probably just step up to the 3.6-liter version. (There were some interesting English custom jobs using the bigger V-8.) The British horsepower tax was pretty clearly aimed at limiting the influx of American cars and to some extent Ford specifically — Henry Ford was outraged and tried unsuccessfully to fight it.
Syke, are you saying that the lack of styling updates offered to the British market says something negative about British consumers? I’ve always thought the Detroit “model year” nonsense doesn’t say too much about the American consumer. (especially in more recent times when it means eg. a switch from amber to clear lenses rather than sheetmetal changes or mechanical improvements)
To me, if British consumers didn’t give a crap about cosmetic changes that says something positive about them.
The British back then were a fairly conservative lot, and unlike America (or just about anywhere else) not a large percentage of people owned cars before the war. The car was still seen as a luxury item and hence fairly conservative in style, trickling down from the preferences of the aristocracy. Frequent wholesale body changes would not have been economically feasible with the volumes produced, even if it had been thought desirable.
Consider the design of their home-grown car manufacturers, like Morris, Austin, and Hillman back then: fairly staid. Singer’s Airstream models were seen as too way out for 1934, and probably hastened the marque’s decline. Standard’s ‘Flying Standards’ with their swept tails and waterfall grilles were styling standouts among the volume cars, and the Morris Eight did get faired-in headlights for 1939, but that was about as far as British taste was prepared to go.
That’s right; blame it on the British consumer. As AUWM makes clear, these were not high volume vehicles. And the French and Germans didn’t get the annual styling changes like the Americans did either. Updates were made depending on when a model went into production. The Matford had a different body for a number of reasons.
Speaking of styling changes that the French and German factories never got it’s interesting that seemingly the only European producer of the Ford Model 40 (the 1933 and ’34 cars) was Soviet Russia.
A very interesting piece that fills some large gaps in my knowledge about early Ford V8s. I had known a little about the “60”, but not much beyond that it was meant to stand in for a six and was not successful at it.
The detail on this engine’s life outside of the US is fascinating, particularly how the company went from a “One Ford” philosophy of Model Ts and As for the world to a Ford for every local condition around the world.
What’s interesting to me is that Ford had wanted a “One Ford” policy for decades and was forced into the market-specific versions for reasons beyond Henry’s control and definitely not to his liking.
A very useful text on that subject is American Business Abroad, Ford on Six Continents by Mary Wilkins and Franck Hill, published by Wayne State University Press in 1964. It was published before the consolidation of Ford’s British and German subsidiaries began in the mid-60s, but sheds a lot of light on what happened before that point. It’s a business book rather than a car book, but it’s good background.
I need to have a look at that book — it is an oft-quoted source, but not one I can access from my present whereabouts. Newer (not necessarily better) English-language sources I’ve looked at online include:
– The Politics of Industrial Collaboration during World War II: Ford France, Vichy and Nazi Germany. Imlay T & Horn M, Cambridge University Press, 2014.
– Transplanting the Amercian model? US automobile companies and the transfer of technology and management to Britain, France, and Germany, 1928-1962. Tolliday S; in Americanization and Its Limits: Reworking US Technology and Management in Post-war Europe and Japan. Zeitlin J & Herrigel G, Oxford University Press, 2004.
A fantastic history of an often forgotten and/or overlooked engine. Weaving its history into the European market has helped fill a lot of blanks on the early days of Ford in Europe.
I guess I hadn’t realized Ford was making trucks for both sides during the war. However, given the logistics of things, I can see how it happened.
Keep in mind that it wasn’t really “Ford” making those trucks fro Germany. Their factory was taken over by the Nazis, and put to work making whatever they were best suited for, given the Wehrmacht’s needs. Technically, Ford ceased to own those factories, inasmuch as they had zero control over them, and certainly didn’t receive any compensation or benefits. And Ford debated for quite some time as to whether tho even bother rebuilding their German plants. They seriously considered walking away.
The same applies to Opel. Some aspersions have been made about Ford and GM profiting from both sides of the war. That’s not really quite how it played out.
I’m glad you pointed that out as this was on my mind but it sure didn’t come out that way. Given the state of things in Germany leading up to WW2 I couldn’t imagine things working as they would have in, say, 1935.
Ford contemplating walking away makes a lot of sense given the amount of rebuilding involved. It makes me think of how nobody was quite certain about what to do with VW, which is another topic of itself.
“Technically, Ford ceased to own those factories, inasmuch as they had zero control over them, and certainly didn’t receive any compensation or benefits”
That’s not exactly what I’ve read, Paul…
Ford was most likely keeping tabs on what was going on in Cologne and occupied France. They did not intervene (nor could they, really), but cables were sent to and from the German and French plants on a regular basis. The Nazis could have just nationalized the Ford plants outright at any point – yet they never did, even after Dec 1941. Ford-Werke remained 52% owned by Dearborn throughout the war.
Dearborn also seems to have used neutral countries to supply its German and French plants with hard-to-obtain resources such as rubber. This was before America’s entry into the war in December 1941. After Pearl Harbour, contacts seem to have ceased. Most of this is likely hearsay, but Ford (and GM) have never opened their files from that period to outside scrutiny.
As to compensation and benefits, there are more solid grounds. The Wehrmacht paid Ford-Werke and Ford SAF for the trucks they made. Just like the US Army paid for its trucks. Maurice Dollfus wrote Edsel to tell him that Poissy had made 58m Francs in profits in 1941. The Poissy plant grew during the war: these profits were being invested in Ford SAF, which was 75% owned by FoMoCo. When they were bombed in 1942, Ford SAF received compensation from Vichy and the German Military Government, as they were a key production asset. Same for Cologne when it was bombed in 1941.
Dearborn probably didn’t know that forced labour was being used in their plants on the Axis side. And they probably didn’t take direct dividends after the US and Germany were at war. But let’s not forget that the European war started in 1939 and that for at least two years Ford was making money off of it on both sides.
According to Wm. Manchester’s account, Krupp Werke treated its slave laborers so badly, even the Party reproved them! Yet Alfried Krupp got amnestied by John McCloy because after all, Communism threatened.
How fun it was to be a slave laborer: overworked & starved by the Germans, & bombed (inadvertently) by the Allies. They retaliated by sabotage, which is why Germans had more dud shells.
The Germans were very surprised when the American owned plants of all kinds were bombed. The prevailing attitude was they wouldn’t destroy the factories they owned. They were wrong.
Emile Mathis was one of the most anti-German Alsatians ever, having been born and raised when Alsace was part of the German Empire (1871-1919). He had defected to the French side during WW1 and seen his Strasbourg factory confiscated once already by the Germans. When this happened again in 1940, he fled to the US and set up MATAM, which made millions of shells for the US Navy.
He also knew where the Germans were building war materiel (aero engines and shells) in his Strasbourg plant. He personally gave the USAF and RAF his blueprints of the factory to ensure his own plant would be bombed rather than aid Germany’s war effort.
http://club.mathis.free.fr/html/en/history.html
History classes don’t often point out that big biz had to dance to the Reich’s tune, or else. Both Hugo Junkers (a Socialist pacifist) & Ernst Heinkel were forced out of their namesake companies even though Heinkel was a Party member. His “crime” was resisting demands to sack Jewish staff.
This is one reason why labeling NSDAP “right-wing” is misleading, at least in an American context.
WW2 era Europe has been endlessly fascinating to me, ranking a close second behind automotive interests. So many things happened in such a short time to influence events still to this day.
The influence of the Reich in business is something I wasn’t directly aware of, but it doesn’t surprise me. I’ve been intermittently watching some various documentaries about the Reich and while informative, they’ve often stuck to the same few points.
It’s true – anything Hitler or Hitler-associated never gets old. I don’t say that with glee, as so many needless deaths were caused, but concerning lightning-fast changes – wow! what an era.
In modern times the V-8 60 has had a new lease on life in motorcycles. I remember one company was building them awhile back using rebuilt old engines, and I’ve seen a couple of custom built bikes with the little flatties.
Ah….thank you. A lovely 15 minute reprieve from debate coverage……ah………!
Very interesting perspective on the Ford V8s. I wonder if some of the reason the V8 wasn’t a huge seller in the UK was that Fords, no matter how well equipped, were not perceived as ‘posh’ enough. Conversely the Model 7Y was seen as an everyman’s car, like the Austin 7 and pre-War Morris Minor.
The picture of the Dagenham factory is, of course, just the first stage of what became a massive Thameside complex. Sadly today it’s pretty much shrunk back to that size and hasn’t produced complete vehicles for a long, long time.
Good information about Ford in Europe and the small V8. Fords pre war European specific models outside of the US are interesting, nice to get some details of the market over seas.
Thanks for this insightful look at a rather unusual engine and its applications in Europe. When I first became aware of it as a kid, I was quite perplexed that such a small European-scale V8 was built by Ford. Only later did I learn about its extensive European applications.
I have always wondered about Henry’s original intent on its creation. Designing it specifically for Europe was news to me somewhere along the line. Did Henry always also intend for to be used in American Fords too? It just was too small in displacement and too many cylinders for American driving styles.
Glad you liked it, Paul. It’s really a chunk of global industrial history, that engine.
The question of Henry’s intent is definitely one I’ve pondered myself. Seems the V8-60 was always kind of there, in the background, when the 221ci was being put in production.
Why did Henry Ford want to use the V8-60? Why did he wait until 1937 to make it available in the US? I have no idea, nor have I read anything in my research that was directly attributed to him or Edsel or some other FoMoCo brass about the plan behind the V8-60’s introduction in the US.
The flathead 6 that replaced it in 1941 must have been on the drawing boards by 1938, so it must have been clear to Henry and Edsel in a relatively short time that the V8 was too small.
I remember that Special Interest Autos did a piece on the V8-60 back in the 70s. It was my recall that it was Henry’s way of shutting up those in his orbit who kept pushing for a six in the US. But it really was just as unsuited for American conditions as the typical inline six of the day was so suited.
As you know, when the bigger V-8 was introduced in the U.S., Ford also tidied up the Model A engine and stuck it in the same chassis through 1934. It didn’t sell all that well, but it was a price leader. Once it was gone, the cheaper Standard-series Chevrolets were able to undercut Ford in list price, which somebody — most likely Edsel — had to realize was a marketing problem.
Henry really, really didn’t want to do a six, although Edsel and several other (very brave) senior Ford people suggested it, more than once. What Henry thought they should do instead was an I-5. It was a terrible idea on a bunch of fronts (the competitive marketing copy practically writes itself: “Six for the price of five!”), but it took quite a while before Henry admitted it wasn’t going to work.
I’m not entirely clear on the chronology of the five-cylinder project, but my guess is that it occupied a big chunk of the otherwise confusing gap between the demise of the four and the U.S. introduction of the V8-60. Once Henry finally gave up on the five, somebody (most likely poor Edsel) probably said, “Well, sir, we still need a cheaper alternative to the V-8 and the old Model A engine is not going to sell anymore,” and the smaller V-8 was what was easily available. The obvious problem is that I can’t imagine the small V-8 was any cheaper to build than the big one, but expediency isn’t cheap.
I don’t know if the V8-60 was a stopgap — somehow, I don’t think so — or if it was Henry’s idea of a better solution. It’s entirely possible, given Henry’s attitude in that era, that it wasn’t until they’d gotten through a couple of years of V8-60 U.S. sales that Edsel or whoever else convinced Henry to let them build a six. The side-valve big six was a straightforward enough engine and some Ford engineers had been wanting to go that route for a while, so they were likely able to develop it quickly once they were allowed to talk about it without fearing being summarily fired for it.
(And yes, having to have a series of frustrating and probably shouting-heavy arguments with the boss about straightforward product engineering decisions is hopelessly dysfunctional!)
Seems Ford’s l-5 was a bit after the introduction of the V8-60, and lasted for quite a while after the flathead 6 replaced it. A tenacious man, our Henry…
See SIA no.13, Oct-Nov 1972 (Nice pics of the L-5 included too!)
https://blog.hemmings.com/index.php/2007/09/23/sia-flashback-fords-postwar-light-car/
I’d missed your followup comment at the time, but that article does note that the inline-five was one of old Henry’s pet projects, “since the late 1930s.” Other sources lead me to think it went back further than that, depending on how strictly one defines “late”; it preceded the inline-six, and I still suspect it preceded the U.S. introduction of the V8-60 as well. It seems to have been one of a number of ideas Henry wouldn’t let go of despite their never really panning out.
Great article which adds to the Flathead story; thanks! I still shake my head that Ford would release such a defective initial design.
A vestige of Ford’s French presence, from ’73 until 2009, was the Bordeaux Automatic Transmission Plant, which built the C3 automatic.
Thank you, Neil.
Ford Bordeaux is the grand-daddy of French Ford plants — it started assembling CKD Model Ts back in 1913! I didn’t mention it in the text because I was aiming for a 2500 word article, not a PhD thesis (Ford has a LOT of complex history to it…)
i thought it was still making transmissions — are you saying they closed in 2009?
According to Wiki, Ford sold it to a French holding company (maybe fallout from the economic crash?). The lightweight C3 was originally for the Pinto, so was less durable with the 302 in Fox bodies. My mother’s Fairmont needed a new tranny, though to be fair I wonder if they kept track of fluid quality.
Update: Wiki is wrong or has old info; see
https://corporate.ford.com/content/ford-corporate/en/company/plant-detail-pages/bordeaux-transmission-plant-joint-venture.html
They built the C3 and the A4LD, 4RxxE series as well as the 5R55E series. All of which were really too weak to be behind the Cologne 4.0 V6. That power team found its way under Rangers, Aerostars, Explorers, Mustangs, and in smaller displacements under various European cars.
The V8-60 had 1 cc on the engine in my Audi 4000 quattro (2227 vs. 2226), but I’ll take the 4kq anyway. 🙂
Seriously, a modern small V8 would be cool. Closest equivalent I can think of would be the Buick-Olds-Pontiac 3.5-liter aluminum V8.
The sixties small Daimler V8 was a 2548cc hemi, and went quite well in the Jaguar Mark II body.
The heyday of Ford flathead V8 hot-rodding was before my time. The Chevy small block V8 made the flathead a pretty moot point. Still, a very good article and a great lesson in history I knew zilch about!
I suppose a very small V8 engine in this day and age just isn’t practical from a cost point of view – so many extra parts and the fact that today’s V6’s are more powerful than ever.
A fascinating read – thank you very much!
Good read there was a facebook discussion on flathead Ford V8s last night inspired by a picture of a Ford Pilot someone found, France apparently was still building 255cu flathead V8s in the 80s for military use.
You’re probably thinking of the Simca Unic Marmon Bocquet (SUMB) light truck. Those used the big flathead until 1973. The French army refurbished the ones they still had with Renault Diesel engines about 15 years ago. Not impossible that a few still remain in use, but none with the original V8.
They started selling new Ford flathead engines and blocks when the French Army surplussed their stock around 1990. They are still being sold today. http://www.reds-headers.com/html/ffh.html
http://www.ebay.com/itm/BRAND-NEW-STAGE-I-FRENCH-FLATHEAD-BLOCK-FORD-MERCURY-59A-HOT-RAT-ROD-1932-TROG-/251059923918
Another military Flathead client: Bren Universal Carrier.
I just have my 60 hp motor of my Ford Tudor Special 82 A 1938 at workshop. The number is 54-465.316. The car came to the Police in Skelleftea in the North of Sweden. Now I have the car in Germany and I need spare parts. I hope to find them.
I came to Sweden after the war 1962. I became mecanical engeneer in Skelleftea. I did not like to be a german soldier. Still I have the swedish numberplates. I war realy grate to read the history of the old Ford cars.
“Have You Bombed A Ford, Lately?”
Industrial playing of both sides certainly occurred in this case: Krupp’s artillery fuse was licensed by Vickers in WW1; they duly paid royalties in 1926. I wonder how many Germans knew or know that.
BTW, a common misconception is that Big Bertha shelled Paris. Actually it shelled Belgian forts; the Paris Gun was a different system, an early example of a Super Gun such as Saddam Hussein tried to build.