98th, Belgrade's Last Roar: Nuvolari's Stunning Victory as War Unfolds on the Eve of the Grand Prix
The German teams’ domination during the 1930s – an overwhelming display of technical expertise dispatched with military efficiency – had long seemed a precursor to something more sinister. The clouds had bubbled. Now the storm broke.
Word spread after the first day of practice that German troops were massed on the Polish border. Indeed, Friday’s practice session would be held on a war footing. And by Sunday, Britain and France had entered the conflict. Yet the racers were ordered to keep on racing. New developments were tried, and team-mates locked horns as they bid to set the fastest time around this short, bumpy and cobbled in places street circuit.
Tazio Nuvolari arrived on Saturday morning after a tortuous train journey. Meanwhile, according to Mercedes-Benz’ corpulent team manager Alfred Neubauer, Manfred von Brauchitsch, whose uncle Walter was Germany’s Commander-in-Chief, had to be hauled from an aeroplane bound for Switzerland.
The day of the race was understandably tense. Von Brauchitsch, never the smoothest, drove like a man possessed and threw up a stone that shattered team-mate Hermann Lang’s goggles and cut an eye. Though signalled to slow, he then spun away his lead directly opposite the French embassy.