Going To War Pt. 2: Motorcycles, Machine Guns, and Outlaws

   In 1914, as European nations squared off and chose sides in the beginning of WW1, Mexico was being torn apart by revolution. The revolutionary forces in the north of Mexico were led by the colorful bandit Francisco "Pancho" Villa, General of the Division of the North. Despite his unconventional and ruthless tactics, he was often viewed as a modern day Robin Hood, fighting for the common man. Hollywood and the press romanticized Villa and his men in a time when the wild west was fading into legend, and for a time, the American government supported his cause.

  Villa fought a guerilla type war against the Mexican government, typically on horseback, dashing in quickly and raiding for supplies before disappearing into the desert wilderness he was familiar with. Usually pictured with a sombrero and bandolier of ammunition, he embodied the typical old west outlaw to the newly civilized world. Pancho Villa may have been the first to attempt utilizing motorcycles in a combat role. Eyewitness accounts claim the he used Indian motorcycles during a raid in 1914. He must have preferred horses, because there are no other accounts of the bandit using motorcycles, just a lone photograph of him posing with a 1914 Indian. 

  Soon the winds of politics shifted. Villa's ruthless tactics and indiscriminate killing began to make him enemies. The American government withdrew their support of Villa and officially recognized his rival Venustiano Carranza as head of the Mexican government. Enraged, Villa began to target U.S. citizens  and interests in Mexico. In retaliation and an attempt to seize supplies, Villa attacked a U.S. Army outpost at Columbus, New Mexico on March 9, 1916.

  Villa's scouts inaccurately reported the strength of the outpost, yet he still had the larger force. It didn't matter though. The soldiers of the outpost soon rallied and organized a defense against the horse mounted bandits. As Villa's men burned the town, they became easy targets for machine gun fire, backlit by the flames. Although the Villistas managed to seize some weapons and horses, they suffered heavy casualties and fled to the Mexican border three miles to the south. 

  America was outraged. National Guard units from around the country were called to duty, and over 100,000 troops were placed on the Mexican border. President Woodrow Wilson ordered troops to pursue and capture Villa and selected Brigadier General John J. Pershing to lead what was to become known as the Mexican Expedition. 

"An adequate force will be sent at once in pursuit of Villa with the single object of capturing him and putting a stop to his forays. This can and will be done in entirely friendly aid to the constituted authorities in Mexico and with scrupulous respect for the sovereignty of that Republic." 

-President Woodrow Wilson 

 

General "Black Jack" Pershing was well suited for the task. A seasoned veteran in the wars against the Apache and Sioux, his career spanned the globe, from the famed Battle of San Juan Hill with Theodore Roosevelt's Rough Riders, to fighting the Moro Rebellion of the Philippines. Well versed in the tactics of horse mounted warfare, Gen. Pershing assembled a force of primarily calvary and horse artillery, but, if that had been the extent of his expedition, we'd have nothing to talk about. This was one of the first American military actions to make use of modern innovations such as the aeroplane, the truck, and yes, the motorcycle. It was a turning point in how the U.S. Army viewed warfare and provided invaluable experience for what was to come.

  Pershing was given the command of the First Air Squadron, who in addition to primitive aircraft, had been experimenting with mounted motorcycle riders, to conduct scouting missions. Pershing saw opportunity in the motorcycle and requested more, with sidecar mounted machine guns, ready for combat.

The tough built Harley Davidson J model was chosen as the perfect machine for the job. The J model had a powerful F-head V-twin engine that could traverse desert terrain at 20 to 40 mph, with a top speed of 60 mph. The mounted Colt machine gun could deliver fire at a rate of 480 rounds per minute.

   Although the machines themselves were transported by rail from Milwaukee to Pershing's command in just 33 hours, the men needed trained to ride them and deploy them in battle. Harley Davidson President, Walter Davidson argued that the Army should seek to speed enlistment of men already trained to ride a motorcycle, allowing them to be deployed more quickly. 

"I am firmly of the belief that the best way is for Congress to authorize the army to recruit civilians with special training and obtain them quickly through the attraction of a short enlistment with promise of immediate service in the work of dispersing Villa’s bandits in Mexico.” (Walter Davidson, wire service report, April, 1916)

  Pershing's expedition against Pancho Villa lasted less than a year. After penetrating 350 miles into Mexico, there were a few battles, but the bandit was never caught. Most of the requested motorcycles never left Texas, but the news media made a sensational story of it nationwide. After pressure from the Mexican government (and a few battles with government led forces), the U.S. forces withdrew from Mexico in January of 1917. Regardless of the results of the Mexican Expedition, the U.S. War Department was impressed with the role the motorcycle had played in a combat operation, as shown by the news reporting of the day.

  "The machine gun company which [Gen. Pershing] reviewed is the first of its kind in America but from the activity displayed by the War Department it is practical certainty that motorcycle machine gun companies will be attached to every regiment.
The gun cars and their motorcycle tender carry a total of 4,320 rounds of ammunition in eighteen compact boxes – 240 rounds of ammunition in their flexible belts in each box. [Just] one gunner and driver are required for each gun and in addition the squad carries entrenching tools, wire cutter and complete semaphore signal outfit."

The War Dept. recommended that the use of motorcycles be expanded for future conflicts, which were looming. 

  German U-boats were increasingly sinking American merchant ships in the Atlantic, drawing the nation ever closer to war. In early 1917, a telegram was intercepted proposing an alliance between Germany and Mexico. In exchange for Mexican support against the United States, Germany offered to help Mexico regain the once Mexican controlled states of Texas, New Mexico, and Arizona. The U.S. declared war against Germany on April 6, 1917 and officially joined the "Great War."

  Leaving enough National Guard troops on the southern border to protect from any possible future incursions, General "Black Jack" Pershing and his troops were sent to action in Europe. Also sent, was his motorcycle equipped "Motor Mobile Infantry." Before the war would end, Pershing's service and exploits would raise him to an almost legendary status, achieving the highest rank ever awarded in U.S. history. Pershing became "General of the Armies," the equivalent to what would be considered a 6 star General today.

  Seen as a valuable new resource for frontline use by the U.S. War Dept., motorcycles were essential to American combat in WW1, seeing use as gun toting assault vehicles, ambulances, reconnaissance vehicles, and for perimeter security patrols. 

  Almost every American motorcycle manufacturer still in business supplied machines, but most came from the well known "big three." Over 80,000 motorcycles would be provided for the war effort. Indian supplied about 50,000 units, Harley Davidson 20,000, with most of the remainder supplied by Excelsior.

It was these military contracts that helped to ensure the survival of the big three, making them the well recognized names they are today. Many motorcycle manufacturers never resumed production after the war and have largely been forgotten. 

  

Going To War Pt 1: The Dispatch Riders

   When World War 1 broke out in Europe, it was quickly apparent that all the technology advances of the late Victorian Era would play a part. "The Great War" would be the world's first mechanized war. The distance and scope of military movements were enlarged. Warfare was no longer a regional affair, it was now global. Communication between troops was critical, but more problematic.

Radio technology was still in it's infancy. The neccessary equipment was cumbersome and fragile and it was often plagued by atmospheric conditions. When it worked well, radio transmissions could still be easily intercepted by others. Often, carrier pigeons would be used, but the most reliable method was to send a courier to convey important documents and information. The days of mounted riders on horseback were all but over. Horses were limited in speed and distance before tiring and, if wounded, would leave the rider on foot and possibly captured. The relatively new development of the motorcycle seemed perfectly suited for the job.

  In August of 1914, just a month after hostilities began, Britain declared war on Germany. Probably the first nation to recognize the opportunities offered by the motorcycle, the British government called for volunteers to serve as motorcycle dispatch riders. Whether from patriotic duty or the lure of adventure, the public response wasn't only enthusiastic, it was overwhelming. Many were turned away, with more volunteers than positions available. The British offered volunteers £10 immediately upon signing up, 35 Shillings per week of service, and another £5 upon receiving an honorable discharge. Upon completion of service the volunteer's motorcycle would be purchased at the fair market value or replaced with a new, comparable model. Service was for one year, or until the ward's end.

  To qualify as a Dispatch Rider, certain criteria needed met for both the rider and the machine. The motorcycle was required to be at least 500cc in engine size, either a single cylinder or a horizontally opposed twin, and it needed a "change speed gear"... old English for a multi-gear transmission. The British manufactured Triumph Model H, known as "The Trusty Triumph" was the favored machine of the British (30,000 units built for the war), but many other motorcycles saw service with Dispatch Riders in WW1, such as Douglass, and the leading American brands such as Harley Davidson and Indian. 

  It was considered essential for the rider to be equipped to handle any mechanical needs that should arise, so they were expected to carry the following equipment. 

One valve complete with spring, washer and cotter

One sparking plug

One piston ring

A tyre repair outfit including spares for valve

A spare tube

A spare belt and fastener (if belt driven)

Spare link and a spare chain (if chain-driven)

Complete set of spares for the magneto

Selection of nuts and washers

Two valve cap washers (if used on machine)

Complete set of tools

Two gaiters for tyre repairs

A spare 'cover' to be carried by signal units for each machine (a tyre)

  

  Dispatch service must seemed rather dull for much of the time. Regular duty consisted of essentially running mail from Headquarters to various locations and back again, often delivering carrier pigeons to be used. It's been said that 75% of the service was uneventful, but that other 25%, would've been pure adrenaline...

 
  "Then came two and a half miles of winding country lanes. They were covered with grease. Every corner was blind. A particularly sharp turn to the right and the despatch rider rode a couple of hundred yards in front of a battery in action that the Germans were trying to find. A “hairpin” corner round a house followed. This he would take with remarkable skill and alacrity, because at this corner he was always sniped. Into the final straight the despatch rider rode for all he was worth. It was un-pleasant to find new shell-holes just off the road each time you passed, or, as you came into the straight, to hear the shriek of shrapnel between you and the farm."  -Adventures of a Despatch Rider by British Army Capt. W.H.L. Watson

  Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, events were unfolding in the Mexican desert that would change how motorcycles would be be used in warfare. 

To be continued...

  

Bloodsport Pt. 3: A New Direction

   After Eddie Hasha's horrific crash in New Jersey, racing continued on the boardtracks despite the outcries, which meant that the deaths continued as well. The next tragedy to make nationwide news came less than a year later. 

  Odin Johnson was born in Salt Lake City, Utah in 1889. He was working as a lineman for a telephone company when the racing bug caught up with him. He left his career in 1911 to pursue his fortune on the boardtracks, quickly earning the title of, "The Salt Lake Marvel." During his brief career as a motorcycle racer he was involved in several fatal accidents. At the end of a race in 1912, Johnson cut the power to his machine and steered toward the bottom of the track. A local police officer and amateur racer named Potter hit him sending them both flying... Potter was killed. About a month later, during a race, Johnson's motorcycle was clipped by racer Harry Davis and Johnson was sent crashing into the stands. A local girl named Grace Cunningham was killed and her four companions were injured, including Elizabeth Jensen. Odin Johnson and Miss Jensen became acquainted and built a friendship after the accident, and eventually were married. In July of 1912, it was Johnson's track owned motorcycle that Mat Warden borrowed and was found to have the axle sawn partially through, narrowly avoiding tragedy (discussed in the previous post). Despite his numerous close calls, Johnson wasn't deterred.

(Johnson is second from left)

  On July 30th of 1913 Johnson was racing at the Lagoon Motordrome in Ludlow Kentucky. The Lagoon Motordrome was a new track, having just opened on June 22nd, and was heralded as the safest of all the boardtracks. It was a circular track, 1/4 mile in length, with continuous 60° banking.

Running at the top of the boards, Johnson suddenly lost control of his motorcycle and veered towards the crowd. He struck a light pole, snapping it in half and splitting his skull, killing him instantly. The force of the blow burst the fuel tank of the motorcycle, which was immediately ignited by the live wires of light. Burning gasoline was thrown into the crowd...

"Mothers with babies in their arms were showered with blazing gasoline." -The Washington Post 

According to reports, a total of eight lost their lives, the youngest of which was 5 years old, and 35 more were burned. Earlier that same day, Odin Johnson had written home boasting of making the first payment on he and his young wife's first home.

  As city governments and newspapers began to condemn and restrict the "murderdromes", more and more racing events were beginning to be held on oval dirt tracks. The oval dirt tracks had been some of the earliest tracks used for motorcycle racing, but it's popularity had been eclipsed by the boardtrack craze. The appeal of dirt tracks climbed as the boardtrack death toll rose. 

  In 1921, at the Toledo Ohio Motordrome, the boardtracks claimed the life of one of the era's most popular stars, when Albert "Shrimp" Burns suffered a severe head injury in a crash. It was about this same time that the AMA began to bring formal structure to the dirt track circuit. The boardtracks were in decline. The maintenance costs to keep them operating was enormous. The attendance of the crowds was slipping. In 1928, one crash claimed the lives of eight riders, driving another nail into the coffin.

(Look at those twisted machines)

Then the stock market crashed in 1929. Numerous motorcycle companies folded. The public couldn't afford the luxury of attending  the races anymore and track owners could no longer afford the upkeep. By 1931, 20 tracks had been abandoned. The last of the boardtrack races was held in 1932. The bloodiest era of racing was over. 

  After the Great Depression only two motorcycle companies were left standing. Harley Davidson and Indian. Their rivalry wouldn't die with the boardtracks, nor would it be killed by the Great Depression. The two brands would continue battling head to head for dominance on dirt tracks, dried lake beds, in endurance runs across desserts, and pretty much anywhere else that two or more motorcycles could pair off. The competition sparked a rivalry that still stands. Later joined by manufacturers from around the world, Harley Davidson and Indian still battle it out on the AMA dirt track circuit to this day.

Bloodsport Pt. 2: Glorious Carnage

   Soon after the first motordrome event the fatalities started to pile up. An almost audible, collective gasp erupted from news headlines coast to coast, but was drowned out by the cheering crowds who turned out by the thousands to watch the spectacle. Just like the Romans of old, they weren't disappointed. The speeds, the closeness of the racing, and the primitive nature of the machines and equipment created a perfect storm of danger. 

  Often, signs of tampering would be found. In July of 1912 racer Mat Warden was riding a borrowed machine when an axle suddenly snapped upon entering a turn, causing him to suddenly veer to the bottom of the track. Upon inspection it was found that the axle had been partially sawn through in an attempt at sabotage. Although no one was hurt, it could have easily ended in disaster. After an investigation, the culprit confessed. Was it just an attempt at cheating, or murder? Who knows? The riders certainly needed no help in dying. Indian rider, Harry Glenn had a racing career that spanned from 1912 to 1924. During those 12 years, he was a pallbearer at the funerals of 19 of his competitors, but it wasn't just the racers that would risk their lives, many in the crowds would die or suffer serious injuries from riders and machines being thrown into stands. Bloodsport indeed.

  Almost every major motorcycle manufacturer in America fielded a sponsored team to take advantage of the sales to be made from success on the track, despite the bad reputation that was building. At the beginning, Harley Davidson, of the top three manufacturers, was absent. Company Co-founder Arthur Davidson was thoroughly opposed to the new style of racing, recognizing the dangers involved. In an editorial for a 1912 issue of The Harley Dealer he wrote, “Any dealer who contemplates hooking up with a promoter in the ‘murderdrome’ business, I have found it to be my experience, has nothing to gain and everything to lose. The board track game will work out its own destiny in a mighty big hurry." Although his words proved prophetic, Harley Davidson also joined the fray by 1914. Money was to be made and the competition was making it. 

  The young daredevils who competed were well aware of the danger involved. It was the thrill of life on the edge that caused many to leave good jobs behind to chase fame on the boards. One such young man was Eddie Hasha of Waco Texas.

  He began his racing career in 1911, setting a track record of 95 mph (153 km/h) at the Playa Del Ray Speedway in May of that year. Hasha raced one of the very fast and popular 8-valve Indian 61 cu. in. twins. By 1912, setting many records in the west, he had earned the nickname "The Texas Cyclone," and traveled east to compete on other newly built tracks. Already well known in the east as one of the best, he was asked about the dangers of the sport in an interview with the New York Times. His reply proved prophetic as well...

  “I suppose it’ll get us all each when his turn comes,” he said. “Oh, I know it’s a dangerous game, but I am stowing my money away in the bank and the wife will be fixed up if I go.”

  On Sept. 8, 1912 Hasha was competing at the Newark Motordrome at Electric Park in Newark, New Jersey in front of 5000 excited spectators. It was a brand new track, having just opened on July 4th of that year. The last event of the day was a 5 lap handicap race against five other riders. Eddie Hasha and Ray Seymour were the pros and had no handicap. The other four riders, as amateurs, were given a one lap head start. After the 1st lap Hasha was in the lead. In the 3rd lap his Indian began to misfire and he slowed. Ray Seymour took the lead as Hasha reached down to adjust the engine of his machine. Hasha suddenly began to accelerate, quickly closing the distance between he and Seymour. At 5:15 in the evening, on the last lap, at the height of the excitement, and at 92 mph (148 km/h) Hasha's Indian suddenly turned sharply up the track and into the rail. Witnesses said they saw his sprocket come loose. (Such as may be caused by a snapped axle...) Hasha and his motorcycle ground down the crude barrier for 100 ft. where three excited young boys had their heads stuck through to see the thrilling race. All three boys were killed instantly, one reportedly being  decapitated...“literally tore off the skull off a little boy who had been one of the most excited enthusiasts at the race,” according to The Washington Post. Hasha then hit a pole and his lifeless body was thrown into the crowd, described as "shapeless" due to the multiple broken bones. His now pilotless motorcycle bounded back down the track, hitting the last place rider Johnny Albright. Albright was pinned between Hasha's machine and his own, sliding down the track unconscious. He never regained consciousness, dying five hours later due to lung hemorrhaging. The spectators in the crowd panicked and trampled each other attempting to escape the carnage. The number of reported dead varies, but at least 8 were killed and over a dozen were injured. Emergency responders from throughout the city came to assist but it took over an hour to clear the stands.

  The tragedy made the front page of the New York Times and was the talk from coast to coast. The outcry from the public and the government was enormous. Two days after the horrific crash, on Sept. 10, 1912, the Washington Post lamented, “It is a commentary on American Standards that we take pains to prohibit prize fighting and horse racing in many States, and hold up our hands in horror at the suggestion of bullfights as a national sport, and yet flock in thousands to see reckless young men riding madly around a track sloping at a 50 percent angle glorifying in the thinness of the thread that divides life from death."

  A grand jury cleared cleared the track owners of any criminal negligence, but by December, motorcycle racing was banned in Newark and the track was closed. A civil suit was brought against the EMRA- Eastern Motorcycle Racing Association and was settled for $328. The Motordrome was sold at sheriff's sale to satisfy the $10,895 lien held by the carpenters who built it. It sat as a grim memorial of the day for three years before being leveled by fire in 1915. Many hoped, but few knew at the time, that it was the beginning of the end of the motordromes. But before the end would come, the carnage would continue, and in the end, it wasn't the carnage that would bring the end to boardtrack racing. 

To be continued...

Bloodsport Pt. 1

 

 You could easily argue that it was the thrill of bicycle racing that led to the development of the motorcycle. Motorcycles were practically born on the race track. The race tracks of the early 1900s consisted mainly of muddy horse tracks, runs from city to city, and banked oval bicycle tracks called Velodromes. Speed was like a drug and higher speeds, the only fix. As engines grew in size and power the speeds increased. The bicycle Velodromes were soon too small, not only for the speeds, but for the enthusiastic crowds as well. Two far sighted men presented the solution. One with an inspired idea, and the other with the know-how and drive to turn it into a national sensation. 

  As a young man Fred Moscovies spent some time in Europe where he developed an interest in bicycle racing. Hanging around the tracks, he soon came to know the big names of the sport, including John "Jack" Prince. After returning to America, life took him to Los Angeles working as an electrician. While there, he again became involved with the local racing community. He soon saw the increasing need for a suitable location for competition, both for motorcycles and the budding sport of automotive racing.

    Moscovies had learned of the Indianapolis Speedway built by Carl Fisher and believed that southern California was the perfect location for a similar speedway. He soon had a group of potential investors and presented his idea. His dream was a track built of wood based on the design of the bicycle Velodromes, only much larger, a circular, banked track, like a large wooden saucer.

Moscovies told his investors, "Nothing can be as cheap, as fast, or as safe. And I know just the man who can build it for us." Soon $75,000 was raised and work began on America's first boardtrack in Playa Del Ray, CA, opening for business in 1910.

  The man that built it was John Shillington Prince. John "Jack" Prince was born in England in 1859 and grew up with a passion for athletics. He was playing Cricket by age 14, a professional bowler by 17, and then he found his niche, professional bicycle racing. By 1880, at age 21, he had become the high wheel bicycle racing World Champion. He traveled to America to use his talent and fame to promote English bicycles in the American market. He quickly achieved success on the American professional racing circuit, reigning as the undisputed American Champion until 1885. By 1889 Prince had moved on from racing and selling bicycles and became involved in the design and construction of Velodromes, quickly gaining a reputation as the leading expert. After joining with Fred Moscovies to build the Playa Del Ray Speedway, Jack Prince's career took a new direction and he became known far and wide as the man to call to bring boardtrack racing to your town.

  Ever the showman and promoter, Prince would arrive after being contracted by a city for a new track and gather the press. A proper English gentleman with his accent, groomed mustache, and trademark Bowler hat, he'd impress the gathered crowd by pacing off lines and driving stakes into the ground. Never seen to work from formal plans or drawings, he'd take control of every aspect of design and construction. Hundreds of workers would be hired, tons of nails and iron spikes would be ordered, and millions of board feet lumber would begin to be delivered. The track surface would be constructed of rough cut 2 × 4s stacked side by side. Above the track surface grandstand seating would be built, with very little separating the racing on the track from the spectators in the seats. Towers would be built for spotters, press, and track officials. Upon completion, Prince would turn over managment of the track and leave for the next location to begin construction of another. Of the 27 boardtracks spread across America, Prince designed and built 17 of them.

  Designed for use by both automobiles and motorcycles, the tracks were designed from the ground up for speed. Today's NASCAR Talladega Speedway is famous for it's exciting racing with the circuit's highest banking at 33°, yet some of the boardtracks of the early 20th century claimed bank angles of 60° or more with most no less than 45°.

The speeds achieved were incredible. Instantly popular with all ages, the tracks would draw crowds of 10,000 or more. It was the most thrilling attraction since the days of the chariot races of the Roman Coliseum, and would prove just as dangerous. They were soon given the title of "Motordromes".

  Auto racer Barney Oldfield would describe the thrill vividly... "The board speedway will always be the big thrill provider. The speed is terrific and every second every driver is in front of the spectators. They do not go out of sight behind trees or buildings. There are no distances so great as to dwarf cars and drivers below the power of vision to distinguish between them. There is no blinding dust to hamper drivers and obscure them from the spectators. Every second the battle between nerve, wits, and mechanical genius is in plain view. The very shape of the track is for speed. The 40% bank in the turns acts as a propeller which will force cars to exceed their engine capacity."

  The modern gladiators that fought for glory in these arenas were a special breed. Whether due to bravery, daring, or just plain insanity, who's to say? The mechanical steeds they rode were built for one purpose and stripped of anything deemed unnecessary.

  They were typically powerful V-twins, tuned to a higher state than their production counterparts. They had very narrow tires, no suspension, no clutches, no throttles, one gear, and only ran at wide open speed... they also had no brakes.

After being pull started, the only means of controlling the speed was a kill switch. Riders would ride in a tight pack, preparing for the starting lap, alternating between killing the engine and short bursts at full throttle until the flag dropped, where it would be wide open until the race was over, neck and neck and shoulder to shoulder at speeds over 100 mph.

  Safety equipment was minimal in the day which made the sport even more dangerous. Typical gear for a racer included leather boots, pants typically of leather, a woolen sweater with a sponsor's logo sewn on, goggles, a leather cap for a helmet, and leather gloves. The wooden boards of the track surface would often warp and split. The machines constantly leaked and smoked oil which, when combined with the lost rubber from the tires, would turn the rough wooden surface dangerously slick. A spill meant broken bones, fractured skulls, lost teeth, and impalment by wooden splinters. 

  Despite the hazards, there was fame and fortune to be won. Top riders could bring in $20,000 a year. That's about a half million dollars in today's money. It attracted the young and the daredevils. Hundreds took to the boards... and hundreds died, and the Motordromes quickly came to be known as the "MURDERDROMES."

To be continued...