Derek Bell

The race I remember most was when Jacky Ickx and I finished second at Le Mans in 1983. We had won the race in '81 and '82 and we were trying to win our third in a row, which no pair had ever done before.

We had a lot of pressure on us to win, but the race started badly when Jacky got hit up the back by Jan Lammers at Mulsanne Corner on the second lap. Both cars went off the road and we lost a whole lap in the pits, replacing some bodywork.
Of course, because of the fuel economy regulations in Group C, we couldn't just floor the throttle and go for it and catch up our lap. We had to do it within the fuel limitations.

There were just two of us in the car - Ickx and I - but by about 9pm we were catching up with the other works Porsches driven by Vern Schuppan/AI Holbert/Hurley Haywood and Jochen Mass/Stefan Bellof.

I remember Al Holbert came up to me - he'd been looking at the fuel consumption chart on the wall for each car, and Ickx and I were doing one more lap on a tankful of gas than anyone else - and he said. "You cunning lot. I can see you're going to catch us up now."

Of course, that was the way we had to do it: We had to lap quicker and be more economical. Which is exactly what we were doing, and we became quite good at that.

At just after 7am I drafted by Schuppan going down the Mulsanne. As I came down the Mulsanne the next lap I realised we were now in the lead of the race, having made our lap back, and we were still ahead on fuel. So I turned back the boost, just half a turn. I felt really excited about that. I thought, "We're on our way. "

And as I turned into Mulsanne Corner the engine stopped! I radioed back to the pits, very resignedly, and got out of the car. Of course, we're shown in our team drivers' briefing just what to do if the engine stops. I figured there wasn't much I could do. but I had, fortunately, watched the three things you do, which are: you change a sensor that goes to the flywheel; you change a resistor which is on the bulkhead of the car; and you change the Motronics box.

All the bits are taped to the cockpit - but of course at that time in the morning you're not always at your best! Anyhow I changed the three things, jumped back in the cockpit, turned the ignition key on... and the car started! We were back in business.

Then, after putting the bodywork back on-which was no easy task. I can tell you - I drove back to the pits. By the time everything was fixed up properly we'd lost six laps.

We were still in the top five at this point - but then Jacky had a pipe from one of the oil coolers split, so we lost all the oil. Again he had to pit and again we lost a considerable amount of time.

After that we pressed on and drove and drove and drove. Very hard. We had fuel in hand so that wasn't a major problem. The problem now became brakes. With about two and a half hours to go Jacky got back in the car - traditionally, he's always started the race and I've always finished. I was pretty worn out and I was really pissed off because I'd had two years of winning and this was our chance to win again - and we were lying second.

So I thought, "Well I'm just not going to be there when Jacky comes in for the his stop! He can stay in for the last hour." I had no incentive to go out. It was the first time I'd felt like that.

Eventually, Norbert Singer called me into the paddock and said, "Derek, there's another hour and a quarter to go, you're in second place but Jacky says the brakes have completely had it."

In fact there were four vertical cracks right through the discs. Rupert Keegan had gone off the road earlier in the race - with the same problem: The discs eventually parted company, hit the caliper and tore all the suspension off.

The mechanics were going to change the discs on our car but I figured out that if they did that we'd have absolutely no chance of winning. There was one other option: to drive slowly.

Off I went up the pit road and we were a lap behind - three minutes behind - with just under an hour to go. Instead of using the brakes very hard at the end of the Mulsanne like we usually did, in order to save the gearbox, I was using the gearbox like hell and just dabbing the brakes.

I started to close by about 25 seconds a lap, just driving my heart out. I was lapping pretty close to the lap record and I felt fantastic. You know, when the adrenalin takes over...

On the penultimate lap I was about 47 seconds behind as we went over the line - my father was in the stands with all my friends, and he had a stopwatch - and I was 27 seconds behind at the chicane on the last lap. Then, as Al went over the line, his engine just seized solid! And we finished second.

That was probably the most satisfying drive of my life. We didn't win but we had a tremendous result.