A Gull-Wing Socialist

The comeback of an East German racing car

by Harald Franzen

Four decades ago, Heinz Melkus built East Germany’s only sports car. Now his son and grandson are carrying on the tradition – of what may be the strangest car of its kind.

“Beginning at 3200 rpm, you get a real turbo boost,” shouted Bartholomäus Galter over the engine’s deafening roar. “Before that, it’s not so eager but after 3.2, it really bites down hard!” Galter steps on the gas and guides the car into the next curve. This much “bite” comes as a bit of a surprise. The car is, remember, almost 90 percent identical with the Wartburg, the former East Germany’s stolid sedan.

Galter shifts a gear higher, floors the gas pedal and the car shoots along a country road at 100 km/h (70mph). He is the proud owner of a Melkus RS1000, East Germany’s only sports car, which is being built again in Saxony in a limited edition.

Looking at the RS1000, one would never guess its Wartburg pedigree. At a height of less than one meter (three feet), one practically lies inside the car. Undulating lines and gull-wing doors all but erase the Wartburg’s boxy looks. But the Melkus’ one-liter, two-stroke engine seems somehow out of place. In neutral, it crackles like a moped; at 800 kg the car is remarkably light, which means that even 75 horsepower can strike fear into a passenger’s heart.

“The concept is unique,” gushed Galter. “No other car in the world was designed like this: two-stroke, mid-engine, a fiberglass body with gull-wing doors. It’s a fabulous piece of technology.”

This fabulous piece of technology was originally produced by a Socialist development team led by East German racing legend Heinz Melkus. Just 101 of them were built from 1969 to 1979, mostly reserved for racing enthusiasts. About 80 still exist. The specimen we’re driving, however, is the first of 15 new cars being built in Dresden.

When production began, Melkus Sportwagen KG was based in a garage with barely enough space for four cars. A blue Melkus next to the door looked just about complete. Reaching under the opened trunk area, a worker made final adjustments. The rear lights were still missing from the next car over. The space smelled of oil and freshly glued fiberglass. A shelf on the wall displayed a row of 26 trophies. “Those are from my kart days,” said Sepp Melkus, grandson of the company’s founder, in passing. “Granddad’s are in my father’s house.”

Car racing is part of family life in the Melkus clan. Granddad Heinz won six East German championships, three “Peace and Friendship Cups” – the European championship of the Eastern Bloc states – and won 80 of the 200 races he started in. That made him one of East Germany’s most successful and famous racing drivers. His sons Ulli and Peter – and their sons Ronny and Sepp – all compete in some form of motor racing.

As it turned out, building a sports car today that was designed more than 40 years ago proved much harder than anticipated. Some blueprints still existed but, because of East Germany’s notorious lack of spare parts, all RS1000s differ slightly. Basically, the mechanics of the time built with whatever was available.

“Back then we had to plan everything we would need a year in advance,” said Siegfried Anacker, who helped develop the original prototype and now has come out of retirement to join the project. “Whether it was this pipe or that sheet metal or screws – it was pretty tough.” In a way, the spare-parts shortage has continued into the present. “Some elements you can order new today,” said Sepp Melkus. “For example the Wartburg windshields, which are still built in Finland. Other parts we have to machine ourselves.”

In some cases, though, the only adequate solution is to head for the flea market. “Some parts are simply very rare,” added Melkus. “For example the hood hinges for the Skoda MB1000, which we include to lift the hatchback. Of course we could reconstruct it but we always try to use original parts.” That is also why the Wartburg engines have been overhauled, he explains: “That was also the common practice at the time, because of the shortages.”

Despite the obstacles, the constructors get validation in their work. “The interest is enormous, and the solidarity we get from the local population is astounding,” said Melkus, adding that when word got around that the Dresden-based team was having trouble tracking down certain parts, the phone began ringing. “'We still have something like that in the basement, do you think you could use it?' complete strangers would ask.”

And the old racing spirit? Almost nobody drives in races with the original models anymore, says Melkus. If so, they do so in vintage car events where they drive with, rather than against each other. But at least one customer has very special plans for his car: Peter Melkus, Sepp’s father who raced the original and wants to build his own, very special RS1000. It’s supposed to include a great engine, with a Leutert block, which was never in serial production in the Wartburg. And then he plans on hitting the racetrack for real again, perhaps in the Trabant-Lada Racing Cup, where souped-up Ladas, Trabants, Dacias and other former East Bloc models compete on circuits such as the Lausitzring in the state of Brandenburg.

The dream of the younger Melkus generation is the classic’s successor model. So far the car exists only on paper. But it’s supposed to be light too, with a fiberglass body, mid-engine and of course gull-wing doors – a real sports car. Only the sputtering two-stroke engine would be a thing of the past.

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