Mulsanne Straightjackets

hat, 50 or 60 cars here? “Je ne sais pas,” replies the merry Frenchman, who at first sight appears to be closely related to Rumpelstiltskin – and who is absolutely crazy about cars. Just outside his patch of Provence sits a Mercedes Stricht Acht coupé that was probably parked there sometime in the 1970s and, by the look of it, hasn’t moved since. The once glamorous car shimmering in the sunlight has fallen prey to lichens and moss, but Gerard Gombert has no doubts, telling us – with unwavering conviction – that with just a little work it would be ready for a tour of Cannes. This is an open-air exhibition celebrating the history of the automotive industry: Citroen and Renault en masse, several BMW 2002s, and a Mercedes-Benz W108 S-Class among the pine trees. There, a Mini Cooper, here a dozen Peugeot 504 coupés with Pininfarina bodies. A Lotus 30 peacefully rests in the filtered light of a pine tree. And then there’s some seriously fast machinery, too: two Lamborghini Muira’s, an AC Cobra, a Matra D’Jet, a R8 Gordini, a Lotus Esprit, a Lotus Elite, a Lotus Elan and a Citroën DS? Yes – one, two, three, four - all scattered under a blanket of leaves and vegetation, amid a jumble of parts, gearboxes, engines, and chassis. Gombert, in his plaid shirt, smiles gently, the wind blowing his white beard around his face. La Gombe was once a rally driver and an automotive entrepreneur himself, driving Ferraris and Lamborghinis. Four decades ago, French beauties with oversized sunglasses sat in his passenger seat. In Nice, he ran the ‘Garage Gombert’ and claims to have developed one of the first French plastic bodies for vehicles. “Oui oui. Entrepreneur La Gombe!”
Gerard Gombert, who twisted his knee a few days ago, hobbles further into his collection. Ah yes, the Alpines – fifteen in all, slumbering side by side… A106, A108, A110 and an Alpine Renault A210. But not just any A210… this is THE car that won its class at Le Mans in 1968! Excitement turns to anger when La Gombe reveals that none of this is available and that after his death, his Last Will says, “the whole lot will be crushed.” Sacrebleu! Trop, ce est trop! (Translation: “Holy Mother of God! Say it isn’t so!”) French Ministry officials assure us that such artifacts so important to French history could never be destroyed, but alas, can they provide the protection to preserve such history? “The global economic recession has depleted our resources and manpower,” they say with sad faces. “Nous ne pouvons pas tout faire.”
Word begins to spread amongst enthusiasts, eventually making its way to the states. Anger, disbelief and outrage are the common reactions to the news. Could such a story be true? Simply folklore? Or does the fate of these classic cars rest in the hands of a crazy old man? If the story is true, something must be done. Several months now had passed since the tale of La Gombe began circulating thru social media. On an otherwise peaceful French morning, the "police municipale" receive a frantic phone call from an angry Gerard Gombert. There has been a theft. When they arrive, Gombert explains how he found his guard dogs that morning in a deep slumber, no doubt the result of strong sedatives in their food. A quick walk of his neglected farm of vehicles confirms his suspicion. He was the victim of a crime. But the local constabulary is perplexed. The V-12 Miuras, the AC Cobra, the Lotus’, the Gordinis, inexplicably, are all left undisturbed. These thieves had a plan… a single target…a rare piece of French motorsport history…The Le Mans winning Alpine Renault A210. A sports car prototype, the Alpine A210 was a sleek little racer with a superbly aerodynamic body with a dominant long tail with two side fins. Not only was it fast but also was an extremely efficient racecar. Bringing more than a half dozen A210 models to Le Mans, Alpine won in the Index of Performances in 1968 and again in 1969. But in an instant, she was gone. Neglected no more. The investigation was quick, but a difficult one. The thieves were good, leaving no clues for the police to pursue… except one: a fragment of an oil-soaked T-shirt with a partially legible English phrase…”race that MoFo”.