Power to the Porsches

In the hierarchy of international sports-car racing, makes of machines tend to reign like Old World dynasties. In the 1950s, England's noble Jaguars ruled the raceways. Through the 1960s, the dashing, blood-red Ferraris from Italy were the Medicis of the macadam. Now, after two decades of plotting an overthrow, the house of Porsche is coming to power.

Horsepower, that is. Always a top competitor in its class, Porsche in past years was known as the Volkswagen of sports cars--a small, sturdy "superbug" that made up in precision performance what it lacked in muscle. In the past two years, however, Porsche debuted two models designed to mix it up with the big boys. Last year the Porsche 908, with a larger 3-liter engine and 380 h.p., proved that it could more than hold its own when it won the World Manufacturers' Championship, losing only three of the ten races on the circuit. The most disappointing defeat came at Le Mans, France, when--hurt of all hurts--a heavy, outdated Ford GT-40 managed to best the new 908 by the scant margin of one second in the closest finish in the 38-year history of the event.

Last week Porsche returned to Le Mans revved up for revenge. This time they had the new Porsche 917, a low-slung speedster with a 4.9-liter engine and 660 h.p. that can hit speeds of up to 200 m.p.h. on the straightaway. As was the case last year, the West German cars had already clinched the world championship, having won endurance races in the U.S., England, Italy, Belgium and Germany. Nonetheless, as the most prestigious race on the international circuit, the 24 Hours of Le Mans was one trophy the Porsche team dearly wanted to win --a feat they had never accomplished in 19 years of trying. The Ford GT-40s were not competing, but Ferrari, which handed Porsche its lone defeat this year at Sebring, Fla., was strongly represented, as were Alfa Romeo and Matra-Simca. As it happened, the cars might have made a better showing if they had been equipped with water wings instead of wheels.

No Heir in Sight. Swept by torrential rains, the race became a dangerous game of dodge 'em in which the only strategy was survival. After a few sloshy turns around the twisting, 8.4-mile course, Ferrari Driver Ronnie Bucknum allowed that "this race makes Indianapolis look like a Sunday drive. I was plain terrified most of the time." Ferrari, which had eleven entries, lost five cars in the first three hours, three in a single accident. Early the next morning Belgian Driver Jacky Ickx slammed his Ferrari 5125 into a one-lane S-curve in an attempt to overtake Swiss Driver Jo Siffert's front-running Porsche. Ickx lost the gamble, jammed on the brakes, and his racer skidded off the road. He emerged with minor injuries, but a racing official in the car's path was fatally injured.

A half-hour later, Siffert's Porsche was sidelined with engine trouble. No matter. Among the 16 of 51 starters still moving at the end of the race, eleven were Porsches. More important, the West German cars finished one-two-three, with the Porsche 917 driven by Hans Herrmann and Richard Attwood leading the way at an average speed of 119.29 m.p.h. over 2,863 rain-slowed miles. Slow as the pace was, the closest contender to Porsche was Bucknum's Ferrari, which finished fourth at a distant 248 miles behind the winner. Since there is no heir apparent in sight, the 1970 Le Mans was further proof that the Porsche will be the sovereign of sports-car racing in the '70s.

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