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Today, the Porsche brand is built on the strength of the seemingly immortal 911, but to many fans, the essence of Porsche was established by this car, the first model to carry the storied name of Dr.-Ing. h.c. Ferdinand Porsche: the 356.
HERR DOKTOR
We must confess -- guiltily, in certain company -- to being underwhelmed by Porsches. True, they have many admirable qualities, but even the technologically staggering 959 has always struck us as anodyne, rather than lust-worthy. What, then, are we to make of its quaint, Volkswagen-derived ancestor?
We begin with a brief précis on Herr Doktor-Ing. Porsche himself. Ferdinand Porsche was born in Austria in 1875, beginning his engineering career with a childhood fascination with electricity. After a somewhat scrappy formal education (a seemingly inevitable characteristic of great figures of the first half of the last century), he went on to an automotive engineering career, highlights of which included stints at Austro-Daimler and Daimler-Benz, for which he designed the remarkable, supercharged Mercedes SSK. Since most of Porsche's jobs at companies owned by others ended with his quitting in a rage, in 1930, he founded his own engineering firm, headquartered in Zuffenhausen, in northern Stuttgart, providing design and consulting services for both street and competition cars.
The photo car is, based on close examination of details, a later (T-6 body) 356B, which has raised and extended bumpers to better protect it from parking shunts; an enlarged, squared-off hood (which covers a tiny cargo hold occupied mostly by the spare wheel and the fuel filler) with prominent chrome handle; and the two intake grilles for the ventilation system.
One of Herr Doktor Porsche's overriding fascinations, we are told, was the creation of an inexpensive 'people's car,' a kind of modernized Model T Ford. As it happened, this dovetailed neatly with the interests of Germany's newly minted dictator, Adolf Hitler, who was looking for an engineer to design a low-cost automobile for his loyal subjects to drive on the autobahnen of the future Reich. Since Porsche's name was the only one of the several engineers proposed to the Fuhrer who was not Jewish, he won the commission, the result of which was, of course, the familiar, cheerful shape of the Volkswagen -- which Hitler originally wanted to call KdF-Wagen, from Kurch durch Freude, Strength through Joy, a popular Nazi slogan and also the name of the Reich's tourism organization. It bore a strong resemblance to the groundbreaking Tatra T97, designed by the gifted Hans Ledwinka. The Austrian-based firm did not think the similarity was coincidental, and sued Porsche in 1938, although the German annexation of Austria saved Porsche from a hefty settlement. (Tatra renewed the suit after the war, and settled out of court with Volkswagen in 1961.)
Porsche's Volkswagen didn't actually go into production until after the war, but it did spawn the wartime Kubelwagen, the Wehrmacht's version of the Jeep. Porsche's other major contributions to the ambitions of the Thousand-Year Reich included the all-conquering Auto Union "P-wagen" racers of the mid-thirties and the Tiger heavy tank. All of this naturally made the Porsche works in Zuffenhausen a prime target for Allied bombers, which forced the firm to relocate to Gmünd, Austria for the duration of the war.
At the end of the war, Porsche was arrested by British forces and nearly imprisoned, only to be released based upon the testimony of -- of all people -- Albert Speer, who convinced the British that Porsche was not a Nazi. Nevertheless, a few months later, the French authorities arrested Porsche as a collaborator. He spent several months in prison, during which time he was forced to work on an automotive project for Renault. Porsche was eventually released after payment of a 1,000,000-franc bail/ransom. He was tried in absentia and eventually acquitted, although the French authorities never repaid his bail. (It is common for Porsche's apologists to describe him as a political naif who abhorred Nazi atrocities, but while Porsche was never a Party member, he did -- like many businessmen of his era -- provide considerable economic and technological support for the Nazi cause.)
PROJECT 356
While Ferdinand was in prison, his son, Ferry, and engineer Karl Rabe began design work on a new sports car. Given the economic climate of postwar Europe, the ambition of building an expensive sports car was quite mad, although the Porsche organization certainly needed a new project. Porsche was involved on an engineering consultancy basis with the newly reformed Volkswagen organization, which provided some income, but the opportunities for new business were scarce.
Given Porsche's continued involvement with Volkswagen, basing the new car on the Beetle was a logical step. In fact, the Porsches had essayed a race car based on the chassis and engine of the Volkswagen back in the late thirties, and built (but did not race) a few examples before the war. Their new effort, known simply by its internal project code of "356," would be essentially a sports car version of the Beetle, sharing its basic engineering and running gear.
Ferry Porsche, who was now running most of the day-to-day operations of the company, signed a distribution deal with Volkswagen to let Porsche distribute the VW in Austria, giving them both the funds and the access to Volkswagen parts they needed to build the new car. Ferry and company believed they could sell enough of the new model to keep the company afloat.
The basic shape of the 356 changed only slightly during its history, but the B is distinguished from the earlier 356 and 356A by its enlarged windshield and front vent windows. This car has leather upholstery and an electric sunroof, which raised the tally some margin above the basic list price of $4,375 on the West Coast. 356Bs of this vintage have a front anti-roll bar, Koni shocks, and a rear camber compensating spring to quell some of the legendary penchant for oversteer.
There were actually two quite-different 356 prototypes. The first, 356/1, used a tubular-steel space frame, with a VW engine and rear suspension turned 180 degrees, making it a mid-engine car. The second, 356/2, was rear-engined, retaining the VW engine, transaxle, and suspension, with a steel backbone frame and a hand-formed aluminum body. This second car, with a body designed by Erwin Komenda, would be the basis for the production car.
Porsche built some 50 early 356s in Gmünd, and pre-sales were encouraging, despite their very high prices. Unfortunately, the facility in Austria was not really suited to production on any sort of scale, impressing upon the Porsches the need to return home to Zuffenhausen. Since the Porsche works were being used as a motor pool by American forces, this took some doing, but by early 1950, the Porsche organization was back home. To expand their production capacity, they also leased assembly space on the premises of Reutter Karroseriewerk, which was nearby; Reutter would become one of the several coachbuilders making the bodies for Porsche cars. Real series production of the 356 -- perhaps a misleading term, since the cars were still mostly hand-built -- began in the spring of 1950.
GOES PRETTY WELL FOR A VOLKSWAGEN
The 356 did not share the VW's body, nor was it (as some sources incorrectly assert) a Beetle chassis in drag, like the later Karmann Ghia. The frame of the 356 was more complex than the VW's, stronger, but somewhat more prone to rot. Stuttgart-built 356s had steel bodies, rather than aluminum, with the body and frame welded together as a unit; Beetles had a separate chassis. The 356's body itself bears some resemblance to the Beetle, although more out of an adherence to common aerodynamic theories than any structural kinship. (It is very slippery, with a drag coefficient that would still be credible by the standards of thirty years later.) The earliest cars used modified Beetle brakes, transmissions (still without synchromesh), engines, and suspensions, with Ferdinand's patented transverse torsion-bar springs. The 356's performance advantage over the VW came from its lighter weight and slipperier shape.
The 356's small dimensions -- the 356B is 157.7 inches (4,005 mm) long on an 82.7-inch (2,100 mm) wheelbase -- and proportional similarity to the later, bigger 911s lend it a certain toy-car vibe. A 356B Super 90 like this one weighs about 2,050 pounds (930 kg), about 200 pounds (90 kg) heavier than the early "pre-A" models. The 356 is a 2+2, with an 'occasional' rear seat, which seats two small children comfortably, or two adults very uncomfortably. It also folds flat for luggage space.
Despite eye-opening prices -- coupes started at more than $4,200 POE in the early 1950s, which was Cadillac money in those days -- the 356 soon found its audience. Its success was thanks in no small part to the efforts of the U.S. importer, the legendary and infamous Max Hoffman, who would also play a significant role in the many model variations that would emerge over the next few years.
What was the appeal? The 356 was much more expensive than an MG or a Triumph TR2, but it was a good deal more sophisticated in both styling and feel. The similarly priced Jaguar XK120 was faster in a straight line and a lot prettier, but the Porsche was much more nimble, stopped better, and was generally better built. The Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint was perhaps its closest rival in all-around appeal.
A major benefit to the Porsche's marketing was the 356's growing competition pedigree. In 1951 Auguste Veuillet, Porsche's French distributor, ran one of the aluminum-bodied Gmünd coupes at the 24 Hours of Le Mans, winning the 1,100 cc (67 cu. in.) class and finishing 20th overall. Veuillet won again the following year. A 356 won its class in the Mille Miglia in '53, and there were countless rally and hill climb victories. All this paid off in sales; by 1951 a thousand cars had been built in Stuttgart, and the 5,000th followed in 1954.
EVOLUTION
Thus established, Zuffenhausen began a steady, evolutionary improvement of the basic design. Volkswagen parts were gradually banished in favor of bespoke hardware, such as the adoption in 1953 of a new, all-synchromesh gearbox of Porsche design. Various minor body changes were made, the most noticeable of which was the adoption of a one-piece, curved windshield. Engines grew in capacity from the original 1,086 cc (66 cu. in.) to as much as 2.0 liters (122 cu. in.), and there was a choice of several levels of tune: Normal (commonly known in Germany as Damen, or "Ladies'"), Super, and the limited-production, track-bound Carreras, which had dual overhead camshafts. There were also some special de-contented models, many of them contrived by Max Hoffman to enable him to offer lower advertised prices. Cognoscenti can spot the differences between an early 356 and a 356A, or the T-5 versus the T-6 356B, but suffice to say that while the minor variations are legion, the basic silhouette was little changed.
Porsche marketing would tell you that such continual tinkering is part of the firm's commitment to excellence, but it was also very much a matter of making a virtue of necessity. It is true that the Porsche organization has always prided itself on craftsmanship and attention to detail, but it must also be said that the semi-annual facelifts and model changes in which Detroit indulged was not something Porsche managers could have afforded if they had wanted to. It was not until the late 1950s that the firm had the resources to begin seriously planning a new model, and that car (which became the 911) was intended as a bigger companion to the 356, not a replacement.
356 TO LIFE
What was the 356 like? Former Volkswagen drivers inevitably found it somewhat familiar, even years after most actual VW components had disappeared, and in size and packaging it remained quite similar to its plebeian sibling. The 356 was never particularly luxurious (or quiet), but it enjoyed a visibly high standard of workmanship and attention to detail. Suspension -- fully independent, sprung by transverse torsion bars, located with trailing arms in front and swing axles in the rear -- had relatively soft springs but firm damping, giving it a surprisingly compliant ride and good control over rough surfaces. An early 356 could accelerate from 0-60 mph (0-97 kph) in a bit under 18 seconds, with a top speed of about 90 mph (145 kph). A later Super 90 was good for 0-60 mph in less than 12 seconds, with a top speed of about 110 (175 kph), while a well-tuned Carrera could reach 60 mph (97 kph) in less than 9 seconds and top 125 mph (201 kph). This was not blazing speed, even for the era, but it was the equal of many significantly larger cars with far more powerful engines. The 356 also had strong brakes that, unlike many of its contemporaries, had more than adequate fade resistance for the car's weight and performance. An unexpected virtue was fuel economy, a side effect of the modest engines and sleek aerodynamics. Better than 30 mpg (7.8 L/100 km) was easily attainable in highway cruising, even at high speeds, and in-town mileage seldom dropped below the low 20s (perhaps 10 L/100 km).
Fastback roofline gives the 356 a coefficient of drag of 0.39, superb by the standards of its era. Low drag and small frontal area contributed to excellent high-speed performance and superb gas mileage. The accessory luggage rack is a useful accessory, since there's not really a lot of room under the hood, although if it's overloaded it tends to warp the engine cover (and of course there's a concern about engine heat cooking one's toiletries). Twin engine grilles mark this as a T-6 body, which was shared by the latter 356Bs and the 356C.
The 356, with its rear engine and low center of gravity, remains a very maneuverable car, with fine steering feel and modest body lean. Nevertheless, the rear weight bias and swing-arm rear suspension, which is prone to the same kind of jacking that plagued early Corvairs, can make it something of a handful. In fast turns, initial understeer gradually becomes a tail-out attitude, still very controllable as long as you maintain a steady foot on the throttle. Lose your nerve and jump off the throttle in mid-turn, however, and the tail will come around to discuss the matter with you. If the road is wet, or the driver is unprepared for that discussion, a spin is not at all unlikely. Whether such behavior is intrinsically unsafe is a matter of debate -- certainly, few Porsche owners can say they haven't been warned -- but it is a harsh lesson that more than a few 356 drivers have learned the hard way.
Most 356s had drum brakes, which by the time of the 356B had been upgraded to these finned aluminum drums with iron liners. They give good stopping power and reasonable fade resistance, but the bi-metallic drums are prone to corrosion problems that can be difficult to rectify. The later 356Cs got four-wheel discs, although some experts prefer the drums, since the C's discs were prone to caliper flex.
The 356's commendable fuel economy and good build quality, sadly, did not make for low running costs. The great promise of Porsches, then as now, was that they could function as reasonably practical day-to-day transportation, as well as providing sports car thrills. To some extent that was true, but routine service was very expensive, and anything less than a religious observance of the owner's manual's recommendations could have dire consequences -- prolonged low-rpm driving, for instance, could cost a rod bearing. Even if you treated the manual as holy writ, owning a 356 could be an expensive and tiresome proposition. One 1950s British tester, writing of his experience with his personal Super 75, described persistent brake problems, as well as the fact that his car ran 2,500 miles (4,000 km) with a 'loaner' engine while the original was being rebuilt (with only 14,100 miles (22,700 km) on the clock); the cost of this adventure was not disclosed, but was no doubt impressive. Journalist John Bentley, who owned more than half a dozen early Porsches, called the 356 stubborn and temperamental, particularly in varying weather.
For all these foibles, the 356 sold strongly until the spring of 1965, a year or so after the introduction of its successor, the six-cylinder 911. The final 356Cs had four-wheel disc brakes in place of the earlier cars' drums, but were otherwise not that different than their predecessors. About 78,000 were sold in all, a more-than-respectable total for a largely hand-crafted sports car based on an economy sedan of prewar design.
Porsche jobbed out the production of the body shell of the 356 to several coachbuilders, most prominently Reutter, which was located near Porsche's Zuffenhausen headquarters. In Porsche bought a controlling interest in Reutter, and spun off its seat-making division (Reutter Carosserie-Werke, or Recaro) into a separate company that remains in business today.
THE CULT OF 356
How do we sum up the 356? Although some critics of the fifties considered it futuristic, neither its styling nor its engineering were imitated outside of Stuttgart; the only modern cars that resemble it are later Porsches. Fans will tell you it's a practical sports car, although that's really only true if you accept a very liberal -- not to mention financially extravagant -- definition of practicality. It is, however, the epitome of car as cult object.
For all its inarguable virtues, the 356 remains a car of very narrowly focused appeal. Even in its day, it was not fast enough to appeal to the speed-crazed, not luxurious enough for the sybaritic, and not sexy enough to arouse the kind of lust accorded Italian and British exotics. It was not cheap enough to be an everyman's sports car, nor toweringly expensive enough to equal the snob appeal of a Mercedes 300SL or prewar Bugatti. The 356 is a machine for blitzing along winding roads and country highways at absurd speeds, and it is awkward, even sullen, in most other situations. As with the Corvette (a comparison that many Porsche owners would find abhorrent, although it is nonetheless apt), if the 356 was your kind of car, it was likely to be very much your kind of car. If not, even a Porsche salesman would tell you that you were better off shopping elsewhere.
The "90" badge marks this as a Super 90, with a higher-revving 1.6 L (97 cu. in.) engine rated at 90 hp DIN (66 kW) @ 5500 rpm. The highly tuned engine was good for 0-60 mph (0-97 kph) in less than 11 seconds and a top speed of 110 mph (175 kph) when flogged, but was less tractable than the base engine at around-town speeds. It is actually reasonably flexible, but lugging or prolonged low-speed driving can have expensive consequences.
Ferdinand Porsche did not live to see the end of the 356 line; he suffered a severe stroke in late 1950 and died on January 30, 1951, at the age of 75. He did live long enough to see the cars bearing his name roll of the line at Zuffenhausen, which is the kind of moment that makes PR mavens tear up a little (although in any case, the 356 was more Ferry's design than Ferdinand's). Although the company went public in the mid-seventies, the Porsche family continued to dominate the advisory board well into the 21st century.
Today Porsche is extremely successful -- and so profitable that as of this writing, they are angling to purchase a controlling interest in Volkswagen AG -- but there are persistent complaints that the company has sacrificed its monomaniacal drive for sporting excellence in the search for higher profits. Deviations like the plush, somewhat antiseptic 928, the misbegotten but highly profitable Cayenne SUV, and the upcoming Panamera sedan have tested the resolve of the Porsche faithful, who want desperately to believe that the company's tradition of making narrowly focused sports cars is an act of spiritual devotion, rather than of circumstance and necessity.
Still, it isn't difficult to understand that faith, however naive it may be. In an era when corporations seem to think they can create identities for their products by just applying the right marketing buzzwords, it's hard not to wish it were true.
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NOTES ON SOURCES
Our initial source for this article was Porsche Chronicle by the Auto Editors of Consumer Guide (Lincolnwood, IL: Publications International, Ltd., 1995); that book contains a variety of errors and misconceptions, which we clarified based on the interviews in Randy Leffingwell's Porsche Legends (Motorbooks Classic) (Osceola, WI: Motorbooks International, 1993). We also consulted "The Porsche 1500" by John Bolster ( Autocar, January 1952); "Road and Track Road Test No. F-8-52, Porsche Coupe, 356-4" ( Road & Track, November 1952); "Carrera Gran Turismo Speedster" by John Bentley (Foreign Cars Illustrated, October 1958); "Porsche 1600 (The Autocar Road Tests 1704)" ( Autocar, 10 October 1958); "Porsche vs. Corvette" by Wayne Thoms ( Motor Trend, April 1959); "Road Research Report: Porsche 1600 and Super 90" ( Sports Cars Illustrated, May 1961); "Power at a Price" ( Sports Car Graphic, May 1961); "Porsche Carrera 2-Liter" by Hansjeorg Bendel ( Road & Track, July 1962); "Autocar Road Test 1894: Porsche Super 90" (Autocar, 21 September 1962); "Porsche 356C" ( Track & Traffic, June 1964); "Buying Guide: Porsche 356 1948-1965" by John Simister ( Classic Cars, October 2000); "Jewel in the Crown: 356A buyer's guide" by Tom Wood ( 911 & Porsche World, December 2001); and "Glam that rocks" by Richard Heseltine ( Classic & Sports Car, October 2004), all of which are reprinted in R.M. Clarke, ed., Porsche 356 Ultimate Portfolio (Cobham, Surrey: Brooklands Books Ltd., 2006).
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