peugeot 202
In the immediate post-war years, European manufacturers had very little option but to put pre-war models into production to at least have something to sell while new models were designed and raw materials still in short supply. We try a recently arrived example
French economy and midrange cars of the early 30s were not exactly at the leading edge of innovation. It was not until Citroen’s Traction Avant was rushed prematurely into production in 1934 that the upright styling of the 1920s was finally on the way out.
Despite the French even now being accused of at best, chauvinism (appropriate as M. Chauvin WAS a Frenchman), at worst xenophobia, it was the American motor industry which Andre Citroen had turned to on more than one occasion. His production lines were an American design and the body of the Traction Avant was an all-steel concept built under license from the Budd company of Phildelphia.
In the Alsation town of Sochaux, in the corner of France bordering Germany and Switzerland, sandwiched between the Vosges mountains to the west and the Rhine and Germany to the east, the family-owned firm of Peugeot, the smallest and oldest of the French “big three” were also looking across the Atlantic as a way to go forward. In this case Chrysler’s Airflow was the inspiration. The model was of course a dismal sales failure in the USA, despite it being visually a huge step forward in styling from any other American offering in 1934 and the first time that aerodynamics were used as part of the design and sales pitch for the car. A step too far in what remains a very conservative marketplace, vindication of the design can be seen in the accepting of aerodynamics as an accepted part of any car post-war.
The result of this was the Peugeot -02 series of cars, beginning with the 402 which first broke cover at the 1935 Paris Salon. The marketing men must have been given a free rein and they had given the new and ultra-modern look the moniker “Fuseau Sochaux”, literally translated to “Sochaux Rocket”. The swept back and massively curved chromeplated radiator grille followed the curve of the front mudguards and to keep the airflow smooth the headlights moved inboard and behind the grille, with just a pair of tiny park-lights to mark the outer extremities. The sloping rear end was equally attentive to aerodynamic study, the back wheels hidden behind spats with very art-deco-stylised versions of the company’s lion logo adorning them.
Under the skin, the new range of cars was relying on increased performance to help in the sales battle against the opposition. For the first time since the early 1920s Peugeot used an ohv engine, this time an alloy-head 2 litre unit which was a more refined item than that used by the front-wheel drive cars built in Paris. Pioneered by the earlier 201, the front suspension was fully independent while the rear worm-drive axle was suspended by coil springs and a Panhard rod, the same layout which was carried over to the end of the 404 in the 1970s.
The standard gearbox on the 402 and the models to follow, the 202 and 302 was a three-speed with synchromesh on second and third. Later the Cotal electromagnetic ‘box was available on the 402 and a full automatic was developed but while the two-pedal version appeared in the catalogue it was never sold to the public. The extra 6000 francs needed for the auto. over and above the 22900 franc purchase price was considered too expensive for the average buyer. Even the optional radio wasn’t cheap at 1500 francs.
In February 1938 the smallest car of the range finally went on sale. The 202 was in every respect a scaled-down version of the 402, sharing the same avant-garde styling, the alloy head engine (although reduced in size to 1133cc and 30hp) and independent front end, and was capable of a 100 km/h cruising speed, which was no mean feat in the day. Of course, September 1939 put a stop to that and only a very small number of cars were built during the Occupation.
It was November 1944 when the plant at Sochaux was liberated and the future was very grim. In the ten weeks prior to liberation one train per day left the factory loaded with machinery and raw materials and disappeared into Germany. In July 1943 the BBC World Service broadcast the message “JeanPierre’s poplars are too tall”. This was a coded message to warn the Resistance that an RAF bombing raid on the factory was planned and late in the night of the 15th the towns air-raid sirens sounded. By accident or design only 35 of the 700 bombs dropped actually hit the factory and the damage was by no means catastrophic. Worse was the damage to the town and the civilian population, with 120 killed and another 250 injured.
As the war continued, sabotage and resistance grew and the occupying force responded with increasing brutality; 44 staff were executed and another 200 were deported to camps within Germany and two managers were arbitrarily arrested, never to return from Concentration camps. While all this was happening the company was actively hiding raw materials for two reasons; the main priority was to keep them out
of the hands of the occupying forces and therefore slow down production of war materials (near the end of the war the plant was under Volkswagen management and making Kubelwagens). In the back of their minds also was the end of hostilities and the anticipated shortages which would inevitably follow.
When the war did end the first thing to be done was attempt to locate the equipment which had disappeared across the Rhine in 1944. Jean-Pierre Peugeot described it this way:
“When we found ourselves in the presence of these destroyed buildings, emptied of their machines the unspoken reaction of those in charge of the machines was to hunt for them in those places it was thought they had been taken to. Just as a peasant can recognise his plough from a thousand others by signs intelligible only to him, these men were able to recover (and at times it was a real adventure) a portion of the equipment. ”
1545 machines had gone and Peugeot had to fight lengthy battles to get their equipment back, most of which was found in satellite plants of Volkswagen and Mercedes. An added complication was when looted Peugeot machinery was discovered by Renault, now in Government hands after founder Louis Renault had been imprisoned (and later to die in captivity) on trumpedup charges of collaboration with the Occupying Force. His only crime was to be a capitalist in an increasingly suspicious Socialist France, both pre and post-war, and not a man to waste his time cosying up to politicians. The mistreatment of this pioneer of the motoring industry and theft of his company is one of the great injustices of the post-war industrial world.
In New Plymouth, Peugeot fanatic Sven Slager has been looking for a 202 for some time. Originally from Holland, Sven’s father owned a 202 post-war and Sven has decided he needed one to add to his already impressive collection of Peugeots. On a recent trip back to Holland he spent some time looking at the various 202s for sale, privately and through dealers, before finally settling on this one, a 1947 model. One of the last of the model, restored and correct in every detail, he made the purchase and the little car was on its way to a new life on the other side of the world.
I had been looking forward to driving the car for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it would be the oldest Peugeot I have tried, and secondly, there have been times when I have been tempted to sell something and import one myself. Here is a chance to see if I could actually live with one before I spent the money, having seen several of these on my various travels around Europe (there are a handful in Australia as well but I have yet to see
A 202 is not a big car; think Morris 8 in size and Sven is considerably taller than me so I was quite surprised how much room there was inside for him. Rear-hinged “suicide” doors, low sills and high seats make for easy ingress and egress and with no running boards needed, it is one of the easiest old, small cars I have seen tall people trying to get into.
Once inside, the car seems to double in size and even with a factory sunroof (a great headroom-thief) there was no problem with the owner’s head meeting the ceiling and when my turn came to drive I had to move the seat a long way forward to actually reach the pedals and steering wheel.
Typical of a cheap car of the period, the dash is painted metal, dominated by the circular Jaeger speedo with fuel and ammeter inside. I have seen the exact same item in car at the complete opposite side of the scale, a type 57 Bugatti!
Of more concern was the large red “Huile/Contact (oil/ignition) light which refused to go out. Sven assured me it was not a lack of oil pressure causing it to come on but I have to admit to being more than a little concerned that at any moment the man with the big hammer in the sump was going to make an unwelcome appearance. Having an engine blow in someone else’s car when I am driving it is not something I really want to happen...
As a small light European car the 202 was as easy to drive as a car a quarterof-a century newer. The hydraulic brakes made simple work of pulling up straight and the three speed gearbox, with synchro on second and top was foolproof, operated by a very vintagelooking long lever in the centre of the floor.
Unlike the later Peugeot 203, low gear was perfectly simple to select on the move with a bit of double de-clutching and appropriate blip of the throttle. With such a small engine an extra gear would have been useful, but it is important to remember this is in effect a pre-war car, when only more expensive vehicles had four speeds, being built in the 40s as a stop-gap until such time as the first really new model could be produced, and that was a totally different beast entirely.
The little 1133cc engine felt smooth if not powerful, 30hp at 4000 revs being adequate, and while I am sure the quoted maximum speed of 100 km/h would be attainable, and being French, the maximum speed would have been its cruising speed as well, but for me, 80 km/h seemed about as fast as it would go without sounding stressed. Even at high revs the motor never sounded unpleasant, just a little busy. Sven is not 100% sure what work has been done internally to it but at that sort of speed it felt like it would go for ever.
The independent front suspension and light steering made for a smooth ride around town and it rode the open road bumps as well, although body roll was quite noticeable, if not as extreme as Citroen’s 2CV. Again this was no more that what was the norm for a pre-war car and it just goes to demonstrate how much progress was made with the introduction of the 203 in 1948.
I found the 202 a particularly likeable car. The looks are very distinctive, it really looks like a little black beetle as it scuttled around the streets of New Plymouth and it certainly is a very simple car for a person not experienced in oldcar driving to immediately come to grips with, as Sven has discovered.
Would I want to own one? No. I just don’t think I could live with the lack of power. For me, if I had a late 30s or 40s car it would have to be able to sit happily on 100 km/h all day and this is just too hard on the 202.
A 2 litre 402 from the late 30s, however, could still fit the bill with similar, if not better-proportioned looks and considerably more grunt. One day...
As an aside, I have been told that there was a 202 in the northern Hawkes Bay region some time after the war. Does anyone recall seeing it or more importantly, know what happened to it?
The front view of the little Peugeot is absolutely unique