Memories of Archie Scott-Brown

My recollection of getting to know Archie was that my father went to Cambridge University and was a member of the Cambridge University Motor Club. The club had an annual dinner through which I met Archie and Peter Riley (later to become a works Healey driver), both of whom became lifelong friends. A speed trial was organized for the day after the dinner, at a place called Bedwell Hay Farm, not too far from Cambridge. I would have my TC MG, Archie would have his TD, and Peter Riley—I’m not too sure, what he drove. We had great fun though at these speed trials that followed those dinners. That’s really how our friendships began and developed.
In 1954, Archie was given the opportunity of driving the Lister MG, a huge step forward for him, although he still campaigned the TD in other races. Everything went well until the British Empire Trophy race at Oulton Park. The medical side of the RAC Motorsport suddenly realized that Archie only had one hand. This was rather a shock to them.  They knew of Archie Scott-Brown, but not of his deformities. These deformities were caused through his mother contracting German measles during pregnancy. He underwent numerous operations in his formative years to his feet, legs and arm. His right arm basically finished at the wrist but there was a sort of stump with a groove in it. When he drove, he put that onto the steering wheel. Naturally, he was very upset of the RAC`s decision to exclude him from the race.  Lister too were very upset. Archie approached Brian Lister, suggested that I was a reasonable driver, and should stand in for him in the race. Give him a chance. I had the joy of having a test in the Lister MG in the Spring of 1954. I went quite well, which led to my racing in the British Empire Trophy. I did other races at various circuits, at Silverstone and Brands Hatch as well as hillclimbs at Prescott throughout the year.

It was a severe blow to his racing career, and Archie had to submit himself to various medical panels. By summertime, he got his licence back and was allowed to race the MG Lister again. The Lister Bristol was finished and ready by that autumn. Archie raced it and was immediately quick in it. He started winning with it straight away.
For the 1955 season, I purchased, with Bill Black, a Lister Bristol, one of only four made. Incidentally Barry Wood has the car and still races it today. It is the only surviving car and is in the livery of green with a red stripe down it, just as it was when I raced it. Bill Black wanted to do the hillclimbs and I did the races. Archie’s Lister Bristol didn’t look like the customer cars; it didn’t have the fins on the back. In the Spring of 1955 he went to back the British Empire Trophy, and in the pouring rain—the most dreadful conditions (the race would have been stopped in today’s world)—he walked away from the opposition, beat the works Aston Martins, beat Reg Parnell, and won the British Empire Trophy. It was a most wonderful moment for him to rejoice, and an incredible achievement for him. Success of that nature helped his cause with the medical authorities. If he could win races such as the British Empire Trophy in conditions such as those, he was surely safe and able to compete in other events. He became a hero to everybody, not only to the public but also to fellow drivers. His success rate was one to be admired; to achieve so much with such deformities.
He took part in Rallying, too. I was invited to join the British Motor Corporation Rally team and take part in the 1956 Monte Carlo Rally. The lead driver in the car was to have been Peter Reece; I was to be his co-driver. The car entered was an Austin A50 with an MG engine and a floor-mounted (instead of column-mounted) gearshift; a real little “hot rod.” Sadly, in the December of 1955, Peter was killed in a road accident. Peter was the son of Stanley Blake-Reece.  Blake’s, as the garage was known, was a big Ford dealer in Liverpool. Archie and I went to Liverpool for his funeral. Archie drove his Mk I Zephyr. It was on this journey that I got to know some of the incredible abilities he possessed. He worked as a cigarette salesman, and was a keen smoker to boot. While driving at some 70 mph, with his “stump” on the wheel he would flick open the packet of cigarettes, take one out with his mouth, put the packet down, reach for the lighter, ignite it and light the cigarette. Brian Lister told me he could take the “cigarette trick” one stage further. Just with his left hand, Archie could open a box of matches, remove a match, strike it, and light a cigarette—again while driving. It was as though he made extra use and had extra powers in the one hand he had, far beyond what we are able to do with two.
We attended Peter’s funeral and after the service went to the Blake’s showroom for the wake—a few drinks, and sandwiches for the mourners. Archie and I were both summoned to Stanley Reece’s office. I remember him sitting behind a very big desk looking extremely sad. “Come on in lads,” he said, “Jolly good of you to come today. Naturally, we are all shattered at Peter’s death, but I’m determined that the car should do the Monte Carlo Rally. I’ve spoken to Marcus Chambers (Competitions Manager for BMC) and told him I want you, Jack, to take it, and I want you, Archie, to go with him.” Archie looked amazed, “I’m really not a rally driver; yes I’ve done a few club rallies, but the Monte is another matter.” Stanley said, “Archie, you’re a great driver, you have proved that. You could do this and really enjoy the experience. So, I want you to agree.”  Archie agreed. We left the wake and made our way back to Cambridge. All the way back Archie kept saying, “I must be mad to have agreed to that, I can’t navigate.” I replied, “Well, Archie, I can’t navigate either.” We agreed to get back to Marcus Chambers and ask him to provide a good navigator. A guy called Ken Best, who worked on the promotions side of National Benzoil, came into the frame, and agreed to navigate.

We set off from our starting point, Lisbon. We drove all across Spain in the pouring rain. We hit Paris; meeting up with a number of other competitors and followed a common route all the way down to the French Alps and on to Monte Carlo. We qualified for the Mountain Circuit as we were among the top 100 finishers. On the journey, I was able, at first hand, to witness Archie’s truly amazing driving skills. He was well balanced, and able to drive around any problems the car would throw at him. Of course, he drove around his own disabilities as well. It was a tremendous experience, quite remarkable to be sitting literally inches away from him. One could not have had a better view.
As for the mountain stage of the rally, it’s my belief that the organizers of the rally got things terribly wrong. We were not allowed to touch the cars in Parc Ferme. If the car needed any attention, such as new brakes, that was too bad. In our case, we needed brakes and linings but were forbidden to make any adjustments or repairs. It was bloody dangerous and very stupid. You have to remember, in the period I am talking about, there were no disc brakes.
Anyway, we started the mountain stage and must have completed about a third of the distance. I remember Archie remarking that we had no brakes, they were completely shot. As we approached a right-hand downhill bend Archie was stomping on the brake pedal, but there was nothing left. He shouted, “I can’t stop the bloody thing, Hold tight!” He threw the car sideways around the corner and it just got to the edge. He had done a terrific job to scrub off so much speed. We were nearly at a stop when the car just teetered over the edge. Down the slope were various trees, we ended upside-down and wedged against one of the trees. Thankfully, we all got out without being hurt or injured. The car was a bit misshapen, the windscreen was gone. A lot of people suddenly appeared from a little village that must have been quite close. I hadn`t really been aware of it. With the help of these good people we manhandled the car, still on its roof, down the slope until we came to a little track. We were able to right the car back onto its wheels and checked the fluid levels, oil and coolant. It was drivable. I remember having to get in, lay on our backs and push our feet against the roof to raise it. We drove down to Nice and had lunch at a restaurant. The plan was to have something to eat and drink prior to making our way back to Monaco. Our aim was to arrive on the sea front in time for “checking in.” People would be amazed at how we managed to complete the stage with such a crumpled and damaged car. We could imagine them saying, “How the hell did they manage to get that around?” It would be great publicity for BMC.
Marcus Chambers (BMC Competitions Manager) had said to us, “Never phone me, saying the car is at a certain place broken down. If possible bring it back.” What happened was, we did have a nice lunch, and the owner was quite fascinated by this damaged car. He told us it had brought in quite a few extra customers, and that he would give us some free wine. We arrived at Monaco exactly on our time. All was fine until they checked our road book. We hadn’t been through over half of the controls and it was realized the whole thing was a spoof.  Nevertheless, that was Archie’s one and only Monte Carlo Rally.
Personally, I had great fun being around Archie. Our friendship was very special, he was godfather to my son, David. I have many happy memories of him coming over to our farm in Norfolk for dinner parties and reminiscing.
As told to Mike Jiggle