This weekend’s Italian Grand Prix marks the 40th anniversary since the death of Jochen Rindt, who was killed at Monza in practice for the 1970 race. Having been that season’s dominant driver for Lotus – first in the 49B, then in the 72 – he came to Monza with 45 points and a 20-point lead over nearest rival Jack Brabham. It would be enough to confirm him as champion two races later when Ferrari’s Jacky Ickx, by then the only man who could overhaul Rindt, finished fourth at Watkins Glen. The three points he scored meant Rindt would remain out of reach and become Formula 1’s first posthumous World Champion.

He was also Austria’s first World Champion, and in his home country he remains feted to this day.

A hugely charismatic figure, Rindt was not, however, universally popular and some of his rivals, in particular, considered him aloof, even arrogant.

Fifteen of the 26 drivers entered for the 1970 Italian GP are still alive and to commemorate a majestic driver, cut down in his prime, we’ve spoken to all but one of them. Here are some of their recollections, with more to follow in the run-up to this weekend’s race at Monza.

Jackie Stewart

GB, Tyrrell

“By the time the race came around a lot of the immediate emotion had somewhat reduced. The day before had been very traumatic. Helen went to the hospital with Nina and that’s never a nice thing for a wife to do, to look after another wife.

“I think I finished second. I can’t remember where I was on the grid [he was fourth]. I went out and did quite a good qualifying after Jochen died. It’s in Winning is not Enough. Tried the March, went back to the Tyrrell, and then the March. As a racing driver, when the visor goes down and the lights go out, you have to get on with it. Driving a car, you are so totally consumed by what you are doing, you’re never allowed to be distracted. In that respect it was maybe it was one of the advantages I had: being able to block things out. I always tried to remove emotion and I was able to do that. I had won the championship the year before. From about halfway through ’68 I suddenly matured mentally and was able to manage everything better in my own head.

“That was a bad year, 1970. Bruce McLaren and Piers Courage were killed, and of course Jochen. It was quite difficult to deal with these things, because it’s not just at the track, and seeing the things I saw. It’s brought back to you the next week because of the funeral, and two months later there’s a memorial service. Monza was one of those circuits where we didn’t have a problem with safety. We’d refused to go to the Nürburgring and that was a big deal. Jochen was part of that with me.

“There’s always emotion involved at the start of the race. I was lucky enough to be able to remove most of it. I can’t remember much about it. To finish second in the March was a good result.”

And the Coke bottle-smashing incident after qualifying?

“I make no excuses for that. I’d been to Jochen. I’d been to him and come back to Nina, who had disappeared with Helen. Then Ken…

“Going back out was the right thing to do. The barrier had been fixed, but I suppose because of what I had seen when I went out I was in tears. But when I had the visor down that was when I did my qualifying time, which was the best lap I had ever done at Monza. I didn’t have a death wish. But as I came back in, my best friend John Lindsay handed me a Coca Cola. I took a drink and I will never forget I had it in my hand and I was so angry, I took the bottle and smashed it against the concrete wall that separated the pits from the track. That was my emotion. But not in the race. That’s what I remember.”

Jackie Oliver

GB, BRM

“I remember that most of us were staying the Hotel de Ville on the edge of the park. I had breakfast with Jochen’s wife and we went to the circuit together. We certainly all knew each other.

“Jochen had certain people he wanted to associate with and others he didn’t. He tended to be very self-centred, which isn’t unusual in a successful racing driver. I wouldn’t count him as a friend. He associated with people, I believe, who were as good as him and then he’d make a judgement on the others and didn’t give them space in his life.

“We raced together in Formula 2 the year before and then again in F1. Colin Chapman, Jochen’s boss at Lotus, saw Jochen as a replacement for Jim Clark, and he was probably right about that.

“It was a very dangerous period for motor racing. Lots of us were getting nailed. The cars were not as safe as they are now. They tended to catch light in a crash. No fuel bags. In that situation, it was a bit like being in the military, I imagine. There was no point in dwelling on it. If you were dwelling on it for too long, you weren’t doing a good job. You were better off doing something else.

“I didn’t dwell on it. I knew there were people dealing with the situation so I shut myself down. A few drivers were able to engage with the death of another driver, perhaps because they needed to immerse themselves. Certainly Jackie Stewart felt he had to be involved because he was pushing to get improved safety standards. But I just went my own way and thought ‘there’s another one of us gone and it will never happen to me.’

“No remorse. No sadness. No tears. As far as I was concerned Jochen was just gone. Looking back it was probably an inappropriate way to behave, but I suppose a number of others were exactly the same.”

Jacky Ickx

BE, Ferrari

“Not winning at Watkins Glen was such a release. How could you beat someone not able to defend his own chances? The fact that Jochen won the World Championship was the most perfect solution. As for me not having won, it doesn’t create any kind of sorrow at all. Now, when I think back, I feel so sad for all those around me – probably more talented than I was, and certainly more dedicated, who didn’t have that extra piece of luck that made you a survivor. That was the great thing about that era – survival.”

Anthony Rowlinson

Anthony Rowlinson is executive editor of The Red Bulletin

Motor Sport Magazine - The original motor racing magazine

I wonder if, like me, you are partial to the music of Frank Zappa? In one of his more philosophical moments, Zappa opined that the mind is like a parachute. It only works if it is opened. In August 1970 I travelled to the Isle of Wight Festival with Zappa, assigned to this task by the local newspaper. This ‘happening’ came between the Grands Prix in Austria and Italy.

Leaving aside the fun and frolics of the Isle of Wight, it’s interesting to look back on what was a highly charged season, brutally fractured by the death of Jochen Rindt at Monza in September. Already we’d lost Piers Courage at Zandvoort and Bruce McLaren in a test session at Goodwood. It seemed it couldn’t get any worse, but it did. The 1970 season is an example, too, of why we should keep an open mind. And this applies as much today as it has done over the decades.

If you recall, the mesmeric Rindt dominated proceedings, winning five races through the summer, from Monaco to the Hockenheimring. The only glitch came at Spa when the Cosworth in his Lotus 49C let go after 10 laps. Two weeks later Rindt, now in Chapman’s innovative 72, won the first of four on the trot. The championship, we thought, was surely his and deservedly so. But motor racing, as we have seen again this year, is full of surprises. Some happy, some sad.

All in all, a momentous year. Jacky Ickx was back at Ferrari after a year away at Brabham and by mid-summer the glorious 312B was coming on song, Ickx winning in Austria, Canada and Mexico. But it was not enough. Despite the tragedy of Monza, the mercurial Rindt could not be caught and he remains the sport’s only posthumous World Champion.

Intriguingly, if Ickx had won the penultimate round at Watkins Glen in October he would have beaten Rindt to the title. But it wasn’t to be. In a dramatic race that typified the season Ickx duly started from pole but this day the Ferrari was no match for the other man on the front row, Jackie Stewart in the new Tyrrell 001. Stewart led easily while Ickx pitted just after half-distance with a broken fuel line, returning in 12th place and storming back to a superb fourth by the flag. Meanwhile, a minute in the lead, Stewart retired, the Cosworth leaking oil. Who came through to win and wreck any hopes of a world title for Ickx? A young Brazilian called Emerson Fittipaldi in a Lotus, in only his fourth Grand Prix.

You needed a very open mind to keep up with the scriptwriter in 1970, and a strong stomach. It was both thrilling and awful, the sport at its best and worst. And it wasn’t over yet. Ickx won a chaotic final race in Mexico where spectators climbed the guardrails, stood trackside, and the maddest ran across the circuit itself. Eventually a dog escaped and ran into the path of Stewart’s Tyrrell, damaging the suspension and forcing the Scot to retire. Ickx came through to win and the 1971 Mexican Grand Prix was removed from the calendar.

Triple World Champion Jack Brabham hung up his helmet, having started his final season with a win in South Africa. Clay Regazzoni scored his first Grand Prix victory in a Ferrari at Monza. March arrived in Formula 1. Tyrrell built its first Grand Prix car, Stewart putting it on pole first time out in Canada. And Goodyear introduced slick tyres to the sport. What a year.

Motor Sport Magazine - The original motor racing magazine

Motor Sport Magazine - The original motor racing magazine

Monte Carlo, Monaco, May 18 1958. Roy Salvadori, Cooper T45-Climax, retired, and Jack Brabham, Cooper T45-Climax, 4th position, talk to a mechanic.

The eagle-eyed amongst you will know that I am writing a series of stories for the magazine called ‘Mechanics’ Tales’, which is exactly what the title suggests. These are tales from either retired or working mechanics and good fun they are to do because mechanics tend to be down-to-earth types and they almost invariably have a great sense of humour. They need to.

USA Grand Prix – Saturday Qualifying Indianapolis, Indiana, USA, June 16 2007. A Williams mechanic gets some much needed rest.

According to Kevin Eason, who used to be the F1 correspondent of The Times and is now the Insider columnist on the sports pages, there are mechanics in F1 today who are alleged to be paid as much as 100,000 a year. No, I have not made a mistake with the noughts.

This may come as something of a surprise to those who long ago packed away their spanners. You don’t often see such thing as a spanner in the pitlane these days and I hear that some of the old McLaren mechanics started up the Red Toolbox Club, meeting once a year to swap memories and stories. It is said that when the new McLaren Technology Centre was being drawn up Mr Dennis made no allowances for toolboxes in the workshop bays. Knowing Ron, he probably thought they’d make a mess of the place. Well, it is the smartest, cleanest race shop you’re ever likely to see.

Albert Park, Melbourne, Australia, March 29 – April 2 2006. Honda Chief Mechanic Alistair Gibson, Jenson Button, Honda RA106, celebrates pole position.

Anyway, back to the point. The Insider gave the example of Alistair Gibson who until recently was the Chief Mechanic at Honda. He is now retired from the sport and has been producing sculptures made from carbon fibre. Reckon he must know a thing or two about this virtually indestructible material by now. I cannot tell you if Alistair really was picking up that kind of salary but I do know he couldn’t have been making much in the way of bonuses, either at BAR or latterly at Honda. I knew him many years ago when he worked for Robert Synge at Madgwick Motorsport and he’s an excellent team player as well as a first rate mechanic. But a hundred grand a year? Well, good for him I guess, but it seems a huge amount of money compared to some of the older guys I’ve been talking to lately. They did it pretty much for the love of it, and most of their loot came from bonuses when their cars won the races. Still, life moves on, and I’d be interested to see Alistair’s sculptures, which are on show in London.

Mechanics are a certain type of person, they have to be, always on the road and living out of a suitcase. It gets to a lot of them after a while and they often return to the factory for a more regular way of life. Sir Jackie Stewart(above) was one of the few drivers to recognise the efforts of his mechanics and when he retired himself he set up the Grand Prix Mechanics Trust, a charitable organisation that looks after guys who get hurt, or who are going through hard times for whatever reason. This is a great idea and the GPMT has helped a great many mechanics to get back on their feet and to enjoy a comfortable retirement. As you would imagine, Jackie puts a lot of time and energy into this, as he does with all his many interests and organisations.

Nurburgring, Germany, August 4 1968. A mechanic drives the car of Jackie Stewart, Matra MS10-Ford, 1st position, in the paddock.

Why am I going on about mechanics this week? Well, I’m hoping that some of the guys will see this and will be tempted to respond with their stories. Motor Sport is devoting a page every month to the people who are often described as the unsung heroes of motor racing and we’ve had some great stories so far this year.

So, if you are one, or you know one, let me know. There are so many wonderful tales out there.

Motor Sport Magazine - The original motor racing magazine