Peter Stevens: retracing the Mille Miglia in a Mercedes 300 SLR

When editor Joe Dunn messages to ask if it is OK to share your email address with Mercedes-Benz, it is intriguing to know why. Then when Mercedes-Benz Heritage almost immediately gets in touch to ask if you would be free to join the 2025 Mille Miglia, it is mind-blowing. The company hoped that I would help it celebrate the extraordinary 1955 victory in the thousand-mile race around Italy, when Stirling Moss and Denis Jenkinson won at a record-breaking speed in a Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR.

Scroll back 70 years, to May 1, 1955. My great-uncle Egbert Jenkinson had arranged a huge family get-together in Kettering. Some of the Jenkinson family had moved from there to Suffolk where many had become church ministers, particularly in the village of Glemsford. Egbert had gone to America to seek his fortune and then became a minister himself. One family member was not there: my uncle, Denis. He had told me that he was busy that weekend. I knew that he was navigating for Stirling Moss in a Mercedes-Benz racing car but hadn’t quite taken on the enormity of this. Next morning, he sent me a telegram: they had won the Mille Miglia!

He was always ‘Denis’ to me. The family never called him ‘Jenks’, which is what his elder brother Harold was called. We all called him Denis or ‘Farnborough Denis’ because of where he lived. In close collaboration with Moss, my uncle had devised a kind of roller map on which he had handwritten notes on every bend, straight, uphill and downhill section of the open-road course. Denis arranged for a beautiful aluminium box to be made with perfectly engineered rollers to properly hold his long strip of course notes. The box was made near Dartford by M Papier Ltd of Foots Cray.

He had described to me that he was to be in “the finest race car in the world”, and that he and Moss had practised on the course in Italy in both Mercedes-Benz 220 sedans and 300 SLs, but also a certain amount in the 300 SLR. They had done a considerable amount of testing at Hockenheim too, practised both wheel and sparkplug changing, and had learned all they could about the car. They both felt better prepared than any other competitor. The Mercedes-Benz factory had entered four of their 3-litre, straight-eight, desmodromic valve-engined cars. To reduce crankshaft flexing, power take-off was from the centre of the engine via a gear rather than at the end of the crankshaft. A rear-mounted transaxle and inboard drum brakes were also part of the specification. Each car produced around 310bhp, weighed 880kg and was capable of more than 190mph, according to gearing. The drivers were Fangio, driving alone in car 658; Karl Kling, also driving alone, in car 701; Herrmann/Egger in car 704, and Moss/Jenkinson in 722. The race numbers referred to the start time of the car.

At 7.28am, six minutes after 722 had started, the last car, a Ferrari driven by Piero Taruffi, left the starting ramp in Brescia. Just 10 hours and seven minutes after leaving Brescia, Moss and Jenkinson arrived back with a winning margin of 32 minutes over second-placed Fangio. One thousand miles at an average speed of almost 100mph on ordinary Italian roads, including mountain passes, was an extraordinary achievement. In comparison, the last-placed car, a Fiat 1100, had taken 22 hours and 39 minutes to cover the thousand miles and finish 279th.

Leap forward to Wednesday, September 15, 2021. I had been phoned a few days earlier by a great friend, Ron Pellett, who had been a mechanic at Brabham and liked to take a week’s holiday at Le Mans in the 1980s, working as a mechanic for me and long-time friend Richard Lloyd’s Porsche 956/962 team. He later joined us at McLaren. He said that since he was helping prepare the 722 Mercedes for a demonstration at the Goodwood Festival of Speed the following weekend, did I want to come down to Mercedes-Benz World at Brooklands to see the car? Goodwood was to be its last public appearance. Dropping everything and getting to Brooklands was essential. Upon arrival, I was introduced to Gert Straub, who has looked after the car for more than 40 years, a charming, calm and modest man. When I asked him later how he felt each time he drove the car, he said: “Driving it at best is OK, but at worst could be a disaster so I am always thankful to get out.”

It was wonderful to watch him power around the track with such confidence. The engine was loud, sharp and appeared very responsive with its direct fuel injection. After a couple of laps for photography, the car stopped and then I was asked if I would like a ride whilst Gert did some filming. This was a strange moment and one I had never imagined. I leapt at the opportunity!

Being a pure race car that was designed principally to be used only by the driver, there is just one minimalist door on the driver’s side – hence the images of Denis standing on his seat before dropping down into the car. Therefore, I am instructed to step first onto the driver’s seat, then ‘my’ seat, before settling into the very firmly trimmed bucket seat. It’s a tight-fitting space, but the view ahead through the remarkably thick Perspex screen is captivating.

“Denis always referred to sounds he did not like as ‘noise’”

The screen is old and shows sign of minute stress fractures; it is probably 15mm thick, apparently strong enough to withstand a bird strike at 180mph. Gert twists the ‘Magneto on’ key and the car starts immediately with a harsh, mechanical sound (Denis always referred to sounds he did not like as “noise”!). The engine is instantly responsive but does take a minute or so to properly clear its throat, at which point its acceleration is highly impressive.

About halfway round the first lap, it suddenly dawns on me exactly where I am sitting, whose seat this is, and what happened here 66 years ago. The experience is so overwhelming that I consider the very real possibility that I may burst into tears. But I concentrate instead on absorbing every single moment of this unrepeatable experience. As Gert confirms, there is not a trace of understeer, but with the responsive 3-litre engine a kind of relaxed low-speed oversteer is easily achieved. He tells me that sudden high-speed oversteer is certainly to be avoided! The 16-inch drum brakes are impressive for a car this old, and with a mechanical servo system they are never hard work. The side forces generated on the twisty Mercedes track feel much greater than I had expected. In every aspect this gives the impression of a very finely developed race car in the way that most of its contemporaries do not – it is not a one-lap qualifying special but an indestructible racing machine.

I soak up every aspect of the ride. Watching Gert appear so at ease at the wheel, so confident in his gearchanges, I am reminded of what Denis said to me about never tiring of watching the ‘Golden Boy’ Moss at work. On more than one occasion during that great Mille Miglia drive, 722 arrived at the entrance to a village travelling at what felt like “far too fast”. With an air of detachment, my uncle would watch Moss sort the situation out. He described his thoughts as, “This is going to be interesting. Now I am going to watch the master at work!” Such was his confidence in Moss that he never felt afraid, and Moss for his part often later told me he had complete confidence in Denis’s notes. If it was signed (it was impossible to speak over the motor’s bellow) that an unseen corner was “flat in third” then that is what he did. When time allowed, Denis took on the role of “keen observer”. On one occasion he and Moss were travelling at around 190mph and overtook an aircraft that was filming them from not far above. He described the moment to my mother and I: “That is when I realised that I was in another, surreal dimension.”

Sitting in the car with the engine turned off, I closed my eyes, savoured the past few minutes and considered what a direct connection I had with this remarkable machine. Not only had Chassis 04 won the 1955 Mille Miglia, but in September 1955 – driven once again by Moss, partnered by the American driver John Fitch – it won the 1955 RAC Tourist Trophy race held on the Dundrod road circuit. Crewed by Moss and Peter Collins it had also won the 1955 Targa Florio in Sicily, where it covered 936 kilometres in 9hr 43min.

On Monday, September 20, 2021, both 722 and Gert Straub retired from their active lives with Mercedes-Benz Classic. The car encapsulates all these historical moments in its very fabric. Gert has all those memories of the car without the anxieties of bringing it back in one piece. And I have had the enduring experience of sitting where my favourite uncle once sat – even if for only 10 minutes, and not 10 hours.

“The car encapsulates all these historical moments in its very fabric”

Which brings me back to June 2025 and Joe’s introduction to Mercedes-Benz Classic. The plan is that I fly out to Italy on Sunday June 15, then the following day I am to be introduced to ‘my cars’ for the Mille Miglia. First, a Mercedes-Benz 180D Ponton saloon for Tuesday’s drive from Brescia to Bologna, second a 300 SL, and then a 300 SLR for an arrival ceremony in Rome on Wednesday, late afternoon on June 18. My driving companion in the 180D is Rob Halloway, head of global communications for Mercedes-Benz cars and vans. I shall just call him Rob. In the 300 SL it is to be Marcus W Breitschwerdt, executive vice-president and head of Mercedes-Benz Heritage. I shall just call him Marcus. He will also drive me in the 300 SLR.

Tuesday’s start was at the civilised time of around midday and much to my surprise, amid the excitement and chaos, cars did arrange themselves in something approaching start number order. Rob took the start and drove out of Brescia in heavy traffic in the 180D. The 1955 race was the first and only one in which there was a diesel class. Ten diesels started, six were 180Ds and four were Fiat 1400As; four of the 180Ds and three 1400As finished, the highest proportion of finishers to starters of any class. Mercedes 180D 04 driven by Helmut Retter and Wolfgang Larcher was first in class with an overall time of 16hrs 52min 25sec in 201st overall.

The 180D was surprisingly good to drive. Ours had been a works development car, a very early example of a true monocoque car, and the structure had even been crash tested back in 1953. The 1767cc four-cylinder diesel engine produced 40bhp, although ours was rumoured to produce 43bhp. Top speed was, and still is 110kph (68mph) and the weight is not always clear but is probably between 1100kg and 1200kg. We expected to be the car that held everyone up, but to our delight we made good progress and were held up by what should have been faster cars. For example, an Aston Martin DB2, driven by men in dreadful colourful shorts. The brakes were a bit like those on a Citroën DS, more about pressure on the pedal than movement, but they worked very well, the gearbox was a straightforward four-speed column shift and the engine had plenty of torque. The ride quality was excellent; unlike many of the more highly strung racers, we did not need to slow for traffic-calming devices or potholes. Despite having synchromesh the 180D responded well to heel-and-toe and double declutch driving.

“Roads are still representative of those used by Moss and Jenks”

This year the route was the original figure-of-eight rather than the post-war clockwise circuit, so much of the 1955 route was taken in reverse. This did nothing to dilute the experience of driving on roads that are still very representative of those used by Moss and Jenkinson in 1955. This meant that after our dinner stop in Ferrara at the opera house Rob drove us west back to Bologna for our overnight stop, rather than south.

An early breakfast with Stirling Elliot Moss, the charming son of Sir Stirling, was a chance to catch up with news of his first day driving in a 300 SL that he was sharing with the car’s owner, Matthias Bonczkowitz. It is never easy to drive the owner of a very valuable car, but Elliot did well. I am told that he is a brilliant chef too.

I was to share a special 300 SL with Marcus for the next day’s run from Bologna to Rome via Sienna. Two or three years after the famous 1955 success, these were just old race cars and with the exception of the 300SLRs were sold off to private owners. MB Classic has recently bought back some or recreated them for its collection. Our start number 417 is an exact replica of the class-winning, and fifth place overall, 300 SL driven by John Fitch, who collaborated with my uncle in helping to design the famous scrolling map reader. I met John in 2003 when he was driving Bob Sirna’s 300 SL on the Bonneville Salt Flats where the car would only run at 150mph. He noted that “he had driven those cars faster than that in the rain, at night, on country roads with hundreds of other cars almost 50 years ago”.

The 417 300 SL is representative of MB Classic’s restoration work. The engine is a 2996cc straight-six with not only overhead camshafts but a desmodromic valve operation where the valves are both opened and closed by the camshafts. I do love a bit of mechanical sophistication. The engine produces 240bhp at 6100rpm, although I suspect this one makes a little more, but we restricted ourselves to 5500rpm.

A large amount of the sensible driver’s time during the current Mille Miglia is either devoted to modern traffic or the absurd antics of entrants who seem hell-bent on having an enormous accident by driving on the wrong side of the road or over the solid white line on sweeping unsighted bends. We had decided on a strategy of always making space for these fools when they encountered a large truck coming the other way. But when space allowed, the 300 SL went very well, the four-speed gearbox felt precise and indestructible, but I could see why Moss had a special little ‘lock-out’ plate fitted to avoid changing into reverse when looking for first. The brakes were excellent and easily modulated – an oncoming modern Audi on our side of the road gave me the chance to discover quite how good they were!

“I was amazed to think that Moss and Jenkinson would have been travelling at twice our speed in 1955”

Having read the Motor Sport reprint of the DSJ Mille Miglia story on the flight out to Italy I was aware of his observation of the ‘low pivot’ swing axle rear suspension, and its dislike of lifting off or braking when turning into a downhill corner. Accelerating through a corner was the better way to tackle the Raticosa and Futa and passes, and as we passed through the mountain villages, I was amazed to think that Moss and Jenkinson would have been travelling twice our speed.

During the slow traffic-clogged parts I was able to talk with Marcus both about my uncle and my fascination with cars. It was great to hear about MB Classic’s dedication to developing restoration skills through its apprenticeship schemes, to make sure that these craft skills are not forgotten. We arrived in Sienna in the heat of the afternoon where my concentration was taxed by the crowded central square where all the cars were parked in closely spaced lines. Our space was across the square, my threading through the already parked cars filmed by a nosy drone. Lemon sorbet and watermelon was very welcome.

“He who wins the Mille Miglia is some driver, and the car he uses is some sports car”

The plan was then to get a lift to the outskirts of Rome to meet up with the 300 SLR, and this is where the story almost unravelled. There seemed to be some confusion between the marshals, a few early numbered Mille Miglia cars, the organisers and about 200 modern Ferrari owners, as to how our celebratory arrival would work. At this point an absolute downpour arrived out of a previously cloudless sky. Marcus and I sat in very wet bucket seats, finding out why they are called ‘bucket’! The Mercedes-Benz team sorted things out and we drove onto the arrivals ramp to a barrage of photographers and TV cameras. It was not until the car stopped at the end of the ramp that I found a minute to remember what it was that we were celebrating and what a memorable moment it was for me, and for the Mercedes people.

A few quick TV interviews and it was off to the hotel and the luxury of a hot bath without leaving a black oily ring around the tub – like Denis had for Stirling, who lost the coin toss the two victors had played. As my uncle wrote 70 years ago, “He who wins the Mille Miglia is some driver, and the car he uses is some sports car.” I felt that I had just the tiniest glimpse of what they had done, and what an extraordinary event the Mille Miglia was all those years ago.