A pre-war Mercedes-Benz Grand Prix car in bare silver aluminum on a wet circuit at dawn

History · 1934–1955

The most beautiful lie in racing.

A night of scraped paint is supposed to have given the Silver Arrows their name. The evidence says otherwise. What isn't in doubt is everything that came after.

The Nürburgring, 3 June 1934. Mercedes-Benz has come back to Grand Prix racing after five years away, with a new car nobody has raced yet. On the scales, the story goes, it weighs one kilogram too much — so the mechanics work through the night sanding the white paint off the bodywork, and in the morning the car is silver.

Manfred von Brauchitsch won that afternoon. Everything else in the paragraph above is doubtful. It is also the most-repeated origin story in motorsport, and Mercedes-Benz still tells it — carefully, these days, with the word "legend" attached.

Chapter I · 1932–1934

The night that probably never happened.

The paint story first appears in print in 1958, in the memoirs of team manager Alfred Neubauer — twenty-four years after the race, and three years after Mercedes had walked away from motorsport altogether. No contemporary account of the 1934 Eifelrennen mentions it. No photograph settles it. And when the historian Eberhard Reuss went looking for the race regulations, he found the detail that undoes the whole tale: the Eifelrennen that year was not run to the 750-kilogram formula at all. There was nothing to weigh the cars against.

There is a further awkwardness. Seven years before his memoirs, Neubauer had written about the 750-kilogram formula without mentioning the Eifelrennen once — but he did retell a French magazine story from 1906 about a driver who scraped paint off his car to make weight.

What actually happened is less cinematic and more interesting. German racing cars were supposed to be white, but bare aluminum was already in the air: aircraft builders had stopped painting their stressed-skin fuselages, because paint is weight and polished metal is smooth. In 1932, von Brauchitsch — then a privateer — ran a streamlined silver SSKL at the AVUS and won, and the live radio commentary reportedly called it a silver arrow. By the 1934 Avusrennen, both Mercedes and Auto Union were turning up in silver.

So the name arrived before the legend that explains it. What the legend got right is the feeling: from that summer on, if a car was silver, it was probably about to win.

Formula weight limit
750 kg
W 25 displacement
3,360 cc
Power, 1934
354 PS
Debut result
1st
A 1934 Mercedes-Benz W 25 Grand Prix car in bare aluminum in a grass paddock at dawn
The W 25: unpainted aluminum over a tubular frame, a supercharged straight-eight, and independent suspension at all four corners when most rivals still had a beam axle at the front.

The word

Silberpfeil.

Silver arrow. Not a marketing department's invention but a commentator's — a word for something that went past too fast to describe any other way. It attached itself to two rival German teams in the 1930s, survived a world war and a twenty-year silence, and came back with the cars. Ninety years on, Mercedes still paints its racing machines the color of no paint at all.

Chapter II · 1934–1937

Seven hundred and fifty kilograms.

The formula that defined the era was meant to slow racing down. Cap a Grand Prix car at 750 kilograms without fuel, oil, water or tires, the reasoning went, and nobody could carry a monstrous engine. Germany read the rule the other way: if weight is the only limit, then spend everything you have on lightness and put the savings into power. Over four seasons the horsepower roughly doubled.

1935 belonged to Mercedes — Rudolf Caracciola took the European Championship in the W 25. 1936 emphatically did not. A shortened, more powerful car handled badly, Auto Union and Bernd Rosemeyer ran away with the year, and Mercedes did something almost unheard of: it abandoned the season mid-way and went home to think.

The thinking produced a separate racing department and a 29-year-old engineer to run it, Rudolf Uhlenhaut, who did something no manager did: he drove the cars himself, at racing speed, until he understood why they were awful. The answer was the chassis. His W 125 of 1937 got a stiffer frame and far softer, longer-travel suspension — the opposite of received wisdom, and correct.

Into it went a supercharged 5.66-liter straight-eight making some 595 PS. Caracciola won the championship again. Nothing in Grand Prix racing would produce that much power again until the turbocharged 1980s — roughly half a century of being the most powerful thing on a starting grid.

W 125 displacement
5,660 cc
Power
595 PS
Top speed
320 km/h
Cylinders
8

Chapter III · 28 January 1938

Eight in the morning, on a public road.

Records were the other front of the war with Auto Union, and they were fought on the autobahn between Frankfurt and Darmstadt with the traffic stopped. Mercedes had lost the 1937 record week; for 1938 it asked for the event to be moved forward to January, so that whatever happened could be displayed at the Berlin motor show in February. Losing twice was not an option anyone wanted to describe.

The car was a W 125 wrapped in a shape from the zeppelin wind tunnel — wheels shrouded, cockpit reduced to a small raked bubble, twin exhaust outlets in the nose — and carrying a 5.6-liter twin-supercharged V12 of some 765 PS in place of the racing straight-eight. Caracciola set off at eight in the morning, when the air was coldest and stillest.

Two runs, out and back, averaged. Over the flying kilometer: 432.692 km/h. Over the mile: 432.361. On the return leg the car touched 437. Hours later, on the same stretch of road, Bernd Rosemeyer took the Auto Union out to answer it, was caught by a crosswind and was killed. The record attempts stopped that day. Mercedes' next idea, the 3,000-horsepower T 80 with an aircraft engine and a target of 750 km/h, was built but never ran; the war came first.

The streamlined Mercedes-Benz W 125 record car on a frost-covered autobahn at dawn
The record car: no wheel arches, no radiator opening, no windscreen worth the name. Everything about it exists to disturb as little air as possible.

Frankfurt–Darmstadt autobahn · Rudolf Caracciola · flying kilometer

432.692 km/h

The fastest speed ever officially timed on a public road — and it stayed that way for very nearly eighty years.

Chapter IV · 1938–1939

Three liters, and then the war.

For 1938 the rulemakers gave up on weight and limited displacement instead: three liters supercharged. Mercedes answered with the W 154, a V12 laid so low in a lowered frame that the driver sat beside the propshaft rather than above it. It made around 430 PS in its first season and close to 480 in its second, and it is the car in the photograph at the top of this page. Caracciola took a third European Championship with it in 1938.

Then Italy changed the rules of its own showpiece. The 1939 Tripoli Grand Prix would be restricted to 1.5-liter voiturettes — a class in which the Germans had nothing and Alfa Romeo and Maserati had everything.

Mercedes designed and built a brand-new 1.5-liter V8 car, the W 165, in roughly eight months, shipped two of them to Libya, and finished first and second. Hermann Lang won. It remains one of the most pointed demonstrations of engineering capacity in the sport's history, and the car raced exactly once.

Lang dominated the 1939 season too, though the European title was never cleanly settled: the championship was overtaken by the outbreak of war in September, and who should have won it is argued about to this day. The racing department was shut down. The cars were hidden. Two decades of the Silver Arrows ended with fifteen years of nothing.

Chapter V · 1952–1954

Back, in silver.

The return was cautious and came through sports cars. The 300 SL of 1952 was built around a lightweight tubular space frame so deep at the sills that the doors had to open upwards. In one season it won Le Mans, the Carrera Panamericana across Mexico, and the sports car races at Bern and the Nürburgring — using a production saloon's engine. Two years later it went on sale as the 300 SL Gullwing.

Grand Prix racing was the real target, and Mercedes waited for the 2.5-liter formula of 1954 rather than adapt to the old one. The W 196 R that emerged had a space frame, inboard brakes, a straight-eight lying almost on its side — and two things nobody else had.

The first was direct fuel injection, developed from Daimler-Benz aircraft-engine work, while every rival still used carburetors. The second was a desmodromic valvetrain: valves closed mechanically instead of by springs, so they could not float however hard the engine was revved.

It debuted at Reims on 4 July 1954 in full-width streamlined bodywork, and Juan Manuel Fangio and Karl Kling finished 1–2, a lap clear of third. The streamliner had a catch: at Silverstone, where the corners were marked with oil drums, Fangio could not see his own front wheels and spent the afternoon knocking the drums over. An open-wheeled body arrived within weeks. Fangio won the title in 1954 and again in 1955; the W 196 R won nine of the twelve championship races it entered.

Displacement
2,496 cc
Power, 1954
256 PS
Championship wins
9 / 12
Drivers' titles
2
A Mercedes-Benz W 196 R streamliner on a straw-baled road circuit lined with poplar trees
The Stromlinie body, built for the long straights of Reims and Monza. Beautiful, quick, and almost impossible to place on a tight circuit.

Chapter VI · 1955

The best and worst year in the company's history.

The 300 SLR was the W 196 R grown to three liters and given two seats. On 1 May 1955, Stirling Moss and the journalist Denis Jenkinson took one of them around the thousand miles of the Mille Miglia in 10 hours, 7 minutes and 48 seconds, an average of 157.65 km/h on ordinary Italian roads. Jenkinson called the pace notes off a roll of paper in an aluminum case; they beat Fangio by half an hour and nobody ever beat their time. It is still, by common consent, the greatest drive in the history of road racing.

Six weeks later, on 11 June at Le Mans, Pierre Levegh's 300 SLR was launched into the enclosure opposite the pits. Levegh and more than eighty spectators were killed — the worst accident motorsport has ever had. The race went on; in the small hours, with its remaining car leading, Mercedes withdrew from it.

The season continued, and the team kept winning: a 1–2–3 at the Tourist Trophy, a 1–2 at the Targa Florio in October that took the World Sportscar Championship from Ferrari by a single point, and a second consecutive drivers' title for Fangio. Then the board announced what it had already decided. Mercedes-Benz was leaving motorsport to concentrate on production cars. It had won everything there was to win that year, and it did not come back to the top of the sport for three decades.

A Mercedes-Benz 300 SLR carrying the number 722 at speed through a narrow Italian village street
Mille Miglia start numbers were simply the departure time. Moss left Brescia at 7:22 in the morning — which is how the most famous number in motor racing got its name.

Twenty-one years, six moments.

Two separate campaigns, split by a war, with almost nothing in common except the color and the habit of winning.

  1. 1934

    The debut

    The W 25 wins first time out at the Eifelrennen — and, so the story goes, is named that same weekend.

  2. 1937

    The W 125

    5.66 liters, 595 PS. No Grand Prix car would be this powerful again for roughly half a century.

  3. 1938

    The record

    Caracciola averages 432.692 km/h on the Frankfurt–Darmstadt autobahn at eight in the morning.

  4. 1939

    Tripoli

    Mercedes builds the 1.5-liter W 165 in about eight months and beats Italy at its own race, 1–2.

  5. 1954

    Reims

    The W 196 R returns to Grand Prix racing after fifteen years and finishes 1–2 on debut.

  6. 1955

    Everything, then nothing

    Both world titles, the Mille Miglia — and, after Le Mans, a withdrawal that lasted three decades.

Epilogue

What silver is worth.

Uhlenhaut had built two coupé versions of the 300 SLR for a season that never happened, and used one of them as a company car — a 290 km/h road car with a Grand Prix engine behind the headlights. In May 2022 Mercedes sold one of the pair for 135 million euros, making it the most valuable car ever sold, by roughly triple.

The name came back before the money did. Silver Sauber-Mercedes sports cars won Le Mans in 1989, and the works Formula One team has carried the color ever since. The livery has been explained a thousand times with a story about a night of scraped paint that very likely never took place — which is fitting, in a way. The Silver Arrows were always partly a myth. They were also, for twenty-one years, unbeatable, and that part is in the record books.

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