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Friday, August 14, 2026

Melon

Melon (pronounced mel-uhn)

(1) Any of various plants of two cucurbitaceous vines (the gourd family) including the watermelon, muskmelon etc.  Variations include Genus Cucumis (various musk melons, including honeydew, cantaloupes, and horned melon); Genus Citrullus (watermelons and others); Genus Benincasa (winter melon); Genus Momordica (a bitter melon).

(2) The fruit of any of these plants.

(3) A color ranging between a medium crimson and a deep pink, noted for the orange tinge.

(4) In zoology, the visible upper portion of the head of a surfacing whale or dolphin, including the beak, eyes, and blowhole (a mass of adipose tissue used to focus and modulate vocalizations).

(5) In the slang of (mostly North American) financial markets, an especially large additional dividend (often in the form of stock) distributed to stockholders (often as “cut a melon”).

(6) By extension, any windfall of money to be divided among specified beneficiaries.

(7) In slang, the breasts of the human female (almost always in the plural).  The alternative slang is "chest melons" and a woman generously endowed can be dubbed melonious.

(8) In slang, the head; the skull.  Those deemed vague or of limited intelligence dubbed "melon heads".

(9) In slang, a derogatory term for members of a green political party, or similar environmental groups (rare and mostly Australia & New Zealand).

1350–1400: From the Middle English meloun & melon (herbaceous, succulent trailing annual plant or its sweet, edible fruit), from the Old Portuguese (via the thirteenth century Old French melon) melon, from the Late Latin melonem & mēlōn- (stem of mēlō and a shortening of mēlopepō (the “gourd apple”, a large apple-shaped melon)), from the Ancient Greek μηλοπέπων (mēlopépōn) (large apple-shaped melon), the construct being μηλο (mêlo(n)) (apple) + πέπων (pépōn) (ripe), from πέπτω (péptō) (to ripen).  Confusingly for historians seeking to reconstruct the recipes of Antiquity the Latin melopeponem was a kind of pumpkin while the Greek mēlopepon (gourd-apple) was applied to several kinds of gourds bearing sweet fruit, the origin of that in the noun use of pépōn (ripe) distinguishing the fruit on the vine ready for harvest from those yet to ripen.  As a modifier, melon is appended as appropriate (based on color, shape, diet, environmental niche, habitat etc) including melon beetle, melon cactus, Melon rugose mosaic virus, melon thistle & melon-headed.  The best known is probably the watermelon, dating from the 1610s and so named for their high content of water-like juice; in French, the more pleasing term is melon d'eau.  Melonade is a (non-alcoholic) drink made from melons while the (definitely alcoholic) melontini is a martini cocktail made with melon.  The adjective melonic is unrelated to melons and is used in chemistry to mean "of or pertaining to a type of complex heterocyclic triazine related to melem".  Melem is the heptazine (a certain chemical compound) with three amino substituents.  Melon is a noun & adjective and melonious, melony, melonous & melonlike are adjectives; the noun plural is melons.

The Cold War won, in 1992, Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 and POTUS 1969-1974) returned to Moscow, a place more than once he’d visited as an adversary.  Visiting the markets, he bought a juicy melon.

Being prolific and undemanding to grow, melons were among the earliest plants domesticated and in Greek, “melon” was used in a generic way for many foreign fruits, a fate which would also befall "apple", thus the naming of the pineapple and in some Old English texts, cucumbers are referred to as eorþæppla (literally "earth-apples"), the deductive process that produced the French pomme de terre (potato (literally “earth-apple”)), the French pomme from the Latin pomum (apple; fruit).  Apple was from the Old English æppel (apple; any kind of fruit; fruit in general), from the from Proto-Germanic ap(a)laz (source also of the Old Saxon, Old Frisian & Dutch appel, the Old Norse eple, the Old High German apful & the German Apfel), from the primitive Indo-European ab(e)l- (apple), (source also of the Gaulish avallo (fruit), the Old Irish ubull, the Lithuanian obuolys, & the Old Church Slavonic jabloko (apple)) but etymologists caution the original sense of these and their relationship(s) to what is now understood as “an apple” is uncertain.  In Middle English, as late as the seventeenth century (even the earliest compliers of recipe books aren’t always explicit so some reverse-engineering based on supposition has been undertaken), it was a generic term for all fruit other than berries but including nuts (such as Old English fingeræppla (dates (literally "finger-apples) and the late fourteenth century Middle English appel of paradis (banana (literally apple of paradise)).

The twenty-first century judgment of Paris: Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, left), Britney Spears (b 1981, centre) & Paris Hilton (b 1981, right) reprise Hera, Athena, and Aphrodite, New York City, 29 November, 2006.  The car was a Mercedes-Benz SLR McLaren Coupé (C199, 2003-2010) leased by Ms Hilton.  It was a paparazzi photo from this moment used in the infamous "Bimbo Summit" headline by Rupert Murdoch's (b 1931) New York Post. 

That generality of meaning saw “apple” named as the fruit with which the serpent tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden, leading to the downfall of man and creating the original sin with which we’ve all since been damned.  The Biblical apportionment of blame to Eve has been held by feminists to account for at least some of the oppression suffered by women for the last two millennia.  However, the “fruit of the forbidden tree” was unspecified in the original texts of the Book of Genesis and, despite the wishful thinking of a few, in Biblical scholarship there’s no support for the notion the fruit was even hinted at being an appel of paradis, however appropriate, given the context, a nice plump banana might seem.  Nor is the forbidden fruit explicitly mentioned in the Holy Quran but according to traditional Islamic commentaries, it was not an apple but wheat.  The Prophet may not have been concerned but in Greek mythology there was the μῆλον τῆς Ἔριδος (Golden Apple of Discord) in the story of the Judgment of Paris which the goddess Ἔρις (Eris) (Strife), tossed in the midst of the feast of the gods at the wedding of Peleus and Thetis as a prize of beauty, thus sparking a vanity-fueled dispute among Hera, Athena and Aphrodite; it was that squabble that triggered the Trojan War.  Eris was the goddess of chaos and discord who (perhaps unsurprisingly), having not received a wedding invitation, was miffed and inscribed kallisti (To the prettiest one) on her “wedding gift” handing it to Πάρις (Paris, AKA Ἀλέξανδρος (Aléxandros) (Alexander), the son of King Priam and Queen Hecuba of Troy) who was told to choose the goddess he found most beautiful.  Judging what turned out to be one of Antiquity's more significant beauty contests, Paris chose Aphrodite, offending Hera and Athena, the most famous consequence of their feud being the Trojan War.  Tragedy did thereafter stalk the marriage of Peleus and Thetis; of their seven sons, the only one to survive beyond infancy was Achilles.

Cookmaid with Still Life of Vegetables and Fruit (circa 1620-1625), oil on canvas by Sir Nathaniel Bacon (1585–1627).

Beginning probably in Holland in the early seventeenth century and apparently first painted by Pieter Aertsen (circa 1533-circa 1573) "cookmaid and market scenes" was a genre in painting combining representations of produce and kitchens with themes often borrowed from the New Testament.  Two other examples of Sir Nathaniel's works in this vein are known still to exist: (1) Cookmaid with Still Life of Game and (2) Cookmaid with Still Life of Birds, both featuring healthy young ladies and there is obviously some artistic license in Cookmaid with Still Life of Vegetables and Fruit given that although every piece of produce depicted was at the time grown somewhere in England, not all simultaneously would have been in season.  Sir Nathaniel's lengthy title was too much for many, clipped often to the punchier "Maid with Melons".  This slang use of "melons" (ie female breasts) is listed by many dictionaries as “vulgar” or “mildly vulgar” but does travel with the vague respectability of a classical origin: In Antiquity the plural of the Greek melon (μῆλα) (mela) was used for “a girl's breasts” and in that tradition, in her youth, Lady Helen Taylor (née Windsor; b 1964 and a great-granddaughter of George V (1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936)) was nicknamed “melons”.  In the line of succession to the British throne, Lady Helen comes in at number 49. 

Juicy Melons, Euston Station, London.

The world record price for a pair of juicy melons was set in May 2026 when a two “premium crown melons”, grown on Japan's northern main island of Hokkaido, realized ¥5.8 million yen (US$36,500) at the season’s first auction in Sapporo, Hokkaido, Japan; the result beat the previous mark of ¥5 million, achieved in 2019.  Although doubtlessly succulent, the prized examples were purchased not only for their taste but also as a promotional device, the successful bidder a Kushiro-based fruit and vegetable wholesaler who sold them to a supermarket where they would be “placed on display”.  Large, juicy melons should of course be put "on display"; everybody knows that, 

A cantaloupe as one would appear in most of the world (left) and a rockmelon down under (right).

Globalization has to some extent standardized in the English language spellings and meanings once disparate, sometimes reversing the trend towards diversity noted as one of the linguistic effects of the British Empire, especially in India under the Raj where the British pillaged the local languages with only slightly less enthusiasm than they showed for gold, diamonds and such.  However, the names of food seem often resistant to change, presumably most often where forms are well-established and supplied by local production.  Thus what is in some places eggplant is elsewhere the aubergine.  It’s also a melon matter because in Australia, what most of the world knows as the cantaloupe (from the French cantaloup, from the Italian place name Cantalupo, a former Papal summer estate near Rome, where the melons were first grown after being introduced to Europe from the Middle East), is called the rockmelon (occasionally rock-melon) and the antipodean quirkiness is not unique, the cantaloupe in some places called “sweet melon” or “Crenshaw melon” while in South Africa where it’s not uncommon to see fruit-stalls side-by-side, one selling cantaloupes and the other spanspeks (from the Afrikaans Spaanse spek (literally “Spanish bacon”)).  The Australian use, once deconstructed, does make sense in that a cantaloupe does (vaguely) resemble (some) rocks and has a "hard skin" but the case seems not compelling, cantaloupe a much more attractive word.  Visiting foodies will be gratified Australians follow the rest of the world when it comes to the honeydew (or honey-dew) melon, the name from the late sixteenth century honeydew (sticky sweet substance found in small drops on trees and plants), a replication of the formations in the Dutch honigdaauw and the German Honigthau.  That melon was first named in 1916 when selective breeding produced a cross between the cantaloupe and a melon native to southern African.

Anthony Albanese, shaggate & melongate

Applied kinesics: Linguists and anthropologists call the use of hand gestures as an accompaniment to speech (much associated with Italians): “gesticulations”.  Mr Albanese gesticulates (left) and Nova’s promotional banner for Nikki Osborne’s “Bushie” persona on Bush Deep (right).

Politics is unpredictable but even in the long tradition of "storm in a tea cup" scandals, few would have expected melons to play a role although, delightfully, Anthony Albanese (b 1963; prime-minister of Australia since 2022) managed a "storm in a D-cup", "melongate" the result of the second of his gaffes while in July 2026 appearing on the Bush Deep podcast.  Interviewed by comedian Nikki Osborne (b 1981), he was asked to play the “shag, marry, date” game, three Australian females from pop culture (singer Kylie Minogue (b 1968), actor Nicole Kidman (b 1967) & singer Rhonda Burchmore (b 1960)) offered as his options.  He started well by mentioning he was “newly married” (to his second wife) but Ms Osborne was tenacious and after boxing him into admitting “Kylie, clearly”, managed to press him into saying (with a slight giggle): “all of the above” (that apparently in answer to: “You’d marry Kylie? And shag her? And date her?” rather than thoughts of intimacy (concurrent or otherwise), with all three nominees but Ms Osborne, seeming pleased, did conclude: "all right, a triple" so who knows?).  The public reaction wasn’t good (although muted compared with what would have been the outrage had the remarks been made by a conservative) and quickly his office issued a one-line statement: “I apologise unequivocally for the comments”.  Educated by the Congregation of Christian Brothers (a branch of the Roman Catholic Church), the Australian arm of which was dissolved after shifting the bulk of its assets to a related but legally separate entity to protect them from civil litigation brought by victims child sexual abuse by Christian Brothers, Mr Albanese (selectively) operates on the church's long-established principle of “confess and be forgiven”.  What he should have done was make the joke one of self-deprecation, telling his host a more interesting question would be to ask the trio if any of them would contemplate shagging him and all three were anyway “too good for him”.  His second wife, by now well-acquainted with politics, would have forgiven him.

Pampered crown melons in a Shizuoka hothouse.

It turned out to be an eventful podcast because he also told the tale of meeting Sanae Takaichi san (b 1961, Prime Minister of Japan since 2025) during her Australian visit in May 2026.  Knowing a comedian would likely be not interested in trade negotiations or maritime boundaries in the South China Sea, he instead described his surprise when presented with the gift of a pair of crown melons, a fruit grown only in the western region of Japan's Shizuoka Prefecture.  The nation’s most exalted and expensive melons, farmers tending the vines in climate-controlled greenhouses each season cut away all but the most obviously fecund bud so each plant’s energy & nutrients feed a single fruit, ensuring “perfect melons”.  Understandably, crown melons are a gift presented to someone as a mark of respect or appreciation, often in the intricately constructed packaging famously used in Japan for goods from sandwiches to stilettos.  Mr Albanese described the gift as “strange” but said he found them “quite good”.  While it's not reasonable to expect him to have been aware of the cultural significance in Japan of a fruit he’d have associated with the Aus$3.99 item familiar in Australian supermarkets, his office presumably was informed so it was bad staff work he wasn’t briefed on what to say.  An additional reason for the choice of gift was to mark the “delectably honey-sweet” melons now being exported (tariff-free) to Australia.

Pamela Anderson (mostly real) on the cover of Playboy magazine, November 1994.

Things got worse.  Ms Osborne likened the melons to Canadian-US actor Pamela Anderson (b 1967) which must have amused Mr Albanese because almost instinctively he raised his hands to his chest and, making a cupping gesture, observed: “She brought two… as you do”.  There was laughter in the recording studio and it would have been a good joke in the locker room of the South Sydney Rabbitohs (the NRL (National Rugby League) club the prime minister takes every opportunity to remind the country he supports) but as the clip went around the world, he’d have understood he’d put his foot in it… again.  Well into the twenty-first century, it might be assumed politicians would by now be adept in handling the “new media” (social media, podcasts and such) but, beyond a certain age, many remain uncertain and often make the worst mistake of all: trying very hard to be “authentic” which is, of course, recognized instantly as “inauthentic”.  Politicians have before had to attempt to master “changes in platforms”.  In the nineteenth century, it was the shift from speeches being made on the floors of parliaments to public meetings; early in the twentieth it was the advent of radio (a medium better mastered by George V (1865–1936; King of the United Kingdom & Emperor of India 1910-1936) than most of his ministers), then in the post-war world it was television.  Social media & podcasts are just the latest “shock of the new” and hopefully the ALP’s operatives will arrange additional training.  Still, something good did come from the interview: Ms Osborne learning the Japanese prime minister is female.  As the first woman ever to gain the office, there had in 2025 been extensive international coverage of her accession but presumably that was something crowded out of Ms Osborne's news-feeds by the algorithms selecting matters of greater interest such as Ariana Grande's (b 1993) weight or Kylie Jenner's (b 1997) new hairstyle.

Lord Voldemort, played in this scene by Ralph Fiennes (b 1962).

Making the “melons quip” was a bit hypocritical because it hadn’t long before that Mr Albanese had issued a schoolmasteresque rebuke to a member of his shadow cabinet (Tanya Plibersek b 1969), saying she’d made “a mistake” in likening the Liberal Party’s Peter Dutton (b 1970; leader of the Liberal Party of Australia 2022-2025) to the villainous Lord Voldemort in the film adaptations of the Harry Potter children’s books.  Had the comparison been one of their political philosophy or methods (something that might still be worth pursuing) it would have been OK but in saying “I think there will be a lot of children who have watched a lot of Harry Potter films who will be very frightened of what they are seeing on TV at night” it did seem she was commenting on some physical similarity.  Asked to clarify, she said: “I am saying he looks a bit like Voldemort.  We will see whether he can do what he promised he would do when he was last running for leader, which is smile more.”  Perhaps sensing danger, she added: “I am just saying he is not the warm and friendly face of the Liberal party and, if this last election taught us anything, it taught us that the Liberal party has moved too far to the extremes of politics.”  Before long, a statement was issued from Ms Plibersek’s office saying she had “reached out” to Mr Dutton “unreservedly” to apologize, adding she acknowledged the remark should not have been made.  Mr Albanese went further, saying: “It was a mistake.  It shouldn’t have been said, we all make mistakes from time to time.  What we need to do is to move on from them and it is how we respond to them.  Tanya Plibersek responded appropriately. Tanya Plibersek did the right thing by apologising.  We should not refer to people’s appearance.”

Mr Dutton at Mr Boswell’s funeral.

Mr Dutton called the comments “unfortunate” but said they were “water off a duck’s back” and there was no need for politicians to be “nasty and mean”, concluding the affair by saying “I’m not the prettiest bloke on the block but I hope that I’m going to be pretty effective.”  Students of political phraseology enjoyed that last remark, the original used by John Howard (b 1939; Prime Minister of Australia 1996-2007) as an election campaign hook for the not at all photogenic Queensland National Party’s Senator Ron Boswell (1940–2026; senator for Queensland 1983-2014): “He may not be pretty but he’s pretty effective”.  That worked well and, in retirement, Mr Boswell wrote his memoirs, published as Ron Boswell: Not Pretty, But Pretty Effective (2023).  As leader of the opposition, Mr Dutton’s effectiveness was limited, suffering the ignominy of losing his own seat in parliament at the 2025 general election in which the Liberal party suffered its worst defeat since formation in 1944.  During the campaign, Mr Dutton limited his media appearances mostly to Mr Murdoch’s Sky News (now re-branded News24) where he could be asked “helpful” questions by other right-wing fanatics, the exchanges enjoyed by the channel’s small audience of the already converted, the only sceptical faction of which complained Mr Dutton was “not conservative enough”.  Had he dabbled in the anarchic world(s) of the Tiktokers and podcasters things might have been worse still so his handlers were right to “draw the line somewhere”.

The photogenic TERF Katherine Deves (left) and that tweet (right).

Mr Albanese’s reaction to the brief “Plibersek-Voldemort-Dutton affair” must have been something of a special case.  Although there are some things he’s done his best to forget (hoping others will do the same), otherwise his memory is typically ALP-sharp and he certainly remembered the occasions when Ms Plibersek told people she rather than him would have won the ballot for the party leadership had she chosen to contest.  Had a close factional ally pointed out Mr Dutton’s resemblance to Lord Voldemort, Mr Albanese’s reaction might have been limited to a quite chat (over a beer and a laugh) rather than a public censuring.  Sadly, the one who seemed to receive no sympathy was Lord Voldemort who was slighted by being called, by implication, “Duttonesque”; surely he had as much right to be offended by the comparison.  Amusingly, even within the Liberal Party, there are those who have seen the resemblance and commented.  Lawyer Katherine Deves (b 1978) is a (self-described) TERF (trans-exclusionary radical feminist) with a cult-following in the party and on Twitter (now X) on 1 December, 2021, while watching the televised proceedings of parliament, she tweeted: “New speaker [presiding officer of the House of Representatives] …struggles to keep order as Albo [Mr Albanese, then leader of the opposition) …calls Voldemort [Mr Dutton, then minister of defence] …‘boof head’”  The tweet has since been deleted.

Harold Macmillan (1894–1986; UK prime-minister 1957-1963, left) being shown the Sinclair ZX Spectrum home computer by Sir Clive Sinclair (1940–2021, right), London, 1984.

Old Harold Macmillan had his problems with women (being bi-sexual, he may not have been wholly blameless for his wife’s infidelity) but was fortunate to be prime minister during the last days when journalists were still deferential towards politicians (at least until they smelled blood in the water).  Clearly, at least in his dealings with the press, he’d led a sheltered life because in his memoirs he compared the still polite English journalists to the breed he encountered in Australia during his Commonwealth tour (Jan-Feb 1958), noting they were as capable as the bowlers in the nation’s cricket team of “sending down a few fast deliveries”.  By the standards of 2026 the questions he received (and played mostly with a straight bat although there was the occasional square cut) would be thought “tame” and while it can’t be certain how the old Etonian would have handled TikTokers, podcasters and YouTubers, he’d doubtlessly have been appalled and thought them all vulgarians to be avoided.

Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi san: In what was obviously a misspent youth, she was a drummer in a heavy metal band and still sometimes "picks up the sticks".  A Deep Purple (a heavy metal band formed in 1968) fan-girl, she got to meet the band during their 2026 tour of Japan. 

Mr Albanese probably wishes he could avoid appearances on the “new media” but knows a significant chunk of those with a vote long ago tuned-out of the “old media” where he for decades honed to a high-level his skills of spin and obfuscation; his office also would prefer his appearances be restricted to “more easily managed” platforms but know they must play the cards dealt.  Those in his office take pride at being thought “political pros” but curiously, by August 2026 they appeared to have forgotten the wise adage from the Watergate affair (1972-1974) that claimed the scalp of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; VPOTUS 1953-1961 and POTUS 1969-1974) that in politics what’s lethal: “is not the crime, it's the cover-up”.  Just returned from holiday, Mr Albanese “furiously denied” making a crude joke about Sanae Takaichi san’s ‘melons’ in the anyway notorious ‘shag Kylie Minogue’ interview.  At this point, rather than digging deeper, it would have been a better tactic to apologize and hope for forgiveness but Mr Albanese learned his stuff in the “non-Trotskyite” wing of the ALP’s Socialist Left faction in which “never apologize” was less a mantra than a way of life.  In what was described as a “terse statement” a spokeswoman for Mr Albanese denied the comments were a joke about prime ministerial mammary glands, stating: “This assertion is wrong.”  Unfortunately, the "damn the torpedoes, full steam ahead!" approach is a tactic and not a strategy, the efficacy of "plausible deniability" depending not on the term's second element but the first. 

So the seeking of forgiveness option (if “workshopped”) must have been discarded, the office instead opting for attack, an approach perhaps ill-advised because the spokeswoman was responding to a opinion piece (published in Mr Murdoch’s national daily The Australian) by Tokyo’s former ambassador to Canberra, Shingo Yamagami san (Japanese ambassador to Australia 2020-2023) that criticized the comments as “insulting”, speculating even that they may have damaged Sanae Takaichi san’s reputation: “However light-hearted it was intended to be, the recent joke delivered by prime minister Anthony Albanese at the expense of Japanese prime minister Sanae Takaichi is how he might be remembered by Japanese who most value the friendship with Australia.  It is a time for toiling and not for crude jokes at another’s expense.  So, prime minister, please enjoy Japan’s sweet and juicy melons without thinking about a woman’s anatomy, and instead focus on what our two countries must do together.”  As a former Director-General of the Intelligence and Analysis Service of the MoFA (Ministry of Foreign Affairs), Shingo Yamagami san was well-informed and concluded his opinion piece by reminding Mr Albanese of the special cultural significance of the revered fruit: “A crown melon is the most prized fruit in Japan and treasured as something special. Moreover, this particular fruit was painstakingly nurtured under intensive care in a special greenhouse. A single melon costs more than 30,000 yen (Aus$270).”  Translation: “Albo has gained melons but has lost face.”

Exhibit One: Shaggate.

While readers of The Australian mostly years ago made up their minds and concluded Mr Albanese “is a dud”, the reason Mr Murdoch continues to print and distribute the paper (despite large losses) is the content widely is reported on other media platforms (old and new) and while the influence is somewhat diminished, what appears can, on occasions, still “set the day’s agenda”.  However, it’s unlikely Shingo Yamagami san’s piece was written in an attempt to change many minds in Australia and was likely intended for “internal consumption” in Japan.  It’s improbable many Japanese voters would think their prime minister’s reputation much “damaged” by a foreign leader’s social ineptitude but, for a number of reasons (some geo-political but mostly economic), Sanae Takaichi san’s popularity has retreated from the stellar heights she enjoyed after assuming the presidency of the LDP (Liberal Democratic Party) and leading it to a stunning landslide in the 2026 general election (House of Representatives (lower house)) so the thought is the MoFA may have co-opted Shingo Yamagami san as a stalking horse to “muddy the waters”, seeking to exploit the “melons incident” for a bit of “blame-shifting”.  Of course, in diplomatic circles, it was hardly a secret Shingo Yamagami san was "not a big fan" of the ALP government and he may have been “freelancing”; certainly there's been from Tokyo no suggestion an apology has been sought or is expected and observers suspect  “melongate” will prove a “nine day wonder” that vanishes once Mr Murdoch's journalists conclude the story is "going nowhere" and will likely end up remembered as a “storm in a D-Cup”.

Exhibit Two: Melongate.

One who seemed gleefully to relish the opportunity to defend Mr Albanese against accusations of having violated his own instruction to her (“We should not refer to people’s appearance”) was Tanya Plibersek (an unlikely but energetic Sancho Panzo to Mr Albanese’s Don Quixote) who appeared on morning TV with Barnaby Joyce (b 1967; thrice (between local difficulties) deputy prime minister of Australia 2016-2022 and now a convert from the National Party to One Nation), the latter not previously noted for his feminist credentials.  Echoing her leader’s thoughts on the matter, Ms Plibersek said she thought the former ambassador was “…100 per cent wrong, and we have an excellent relationship with Japan.  I think the former ambassador is wrong in his interpretation.”  Now cast in the improbable role of the One Nation Party’s sole intellectual (he's a qualified accountant), Mr Joyce disagreed, saying it was “a really dangerous thing to say”, twisting the blade a little deeper by expressing some faux sympathy for his fellow panellist being bowled up to defend the indefensible: “I know you’re doing the best job you can on this, Tanya, but it’s just like the Kylie Minogue comment – completely wrong, completely trying to be clever. It wasn’t clever.  It just demeans the office of prime minister, and it certainly has created a massive problem with one of our major partners. I know in your heart, Tanya, you know it’s wrong.  Okay? And if you came out now and said, “Yeah, that was a stupid thing to say. You should have apologised for it. People say: ‘Tanya, it’s telling the truth.’”

Lay theologian Mr Joyce conjuring (with no apparent hint of irony) an impromptu encyclical on “truthfulness” was one of the more amusing episodes in the “melon incident”.  Undeterred by that surreal moment, Ms Plibersek maintained focus and insisted it was a “complete misinterpretation by the former ambassador”, unwisely adding: “People watching it for themselves can make their own minds up.”  Not one to miss a “full toss”, Mr Joyce responded: “They do, they do watch it, and they have made up their own mind.  And it is inappropriate.”  In cricketing terms, the English would have called that “being bowled a pie” (ie an “easy hit”) but anyway, Harold Macmillan politely would have applauded Mr Joyce's riposte through the slips to the third man boundary.

Friday, June 5, 2026

Heckflosse

Heckflosse (pronounced hek-flos or hek-floss-ah (German))

A nickname for the Mercedes-Benz W111 & W112 sedans produced between 1959-1968 (1961-1971 for the coupés and cabriolets with the pruned fins) and translated in English as fintail ("finnie" the affectionate diminutive).

1959: A compound word in modern German, Heck (rear; back) + Flosse (fin).  As a surname, Heck (most common in southern Germany and the Rhineland) came from the Middle High German hecke or hegge (hedge), the origin probably as a topographic name for someone who lived near a hedge.  The link with hedges as a means of dividing properties led in the Middle Low German to heck meaning “wooden fencing” under the influence of the Old Saxon hekki, from the Proto-West Germanic hakkju.  In nautical slang heck came to refer to the “back of a ship” because the position of the helmsman in the stern was enclosed by such a fence and from here it evolved in modern German generally to refer to "back or rear".  Flosse is obscure but was probably related to the Middle English and Old English finn, the Dutch vin, the Low German finne and the Swedish fena.  Because all German nouns are capitalized, Heckflosse is correct but in English, where it's treated as a nickname, heckflosse is common.  Heckflosse is a noun; the noun plural is Heckflossen (although it has in English texts appeared as Heckflosses). 

The (low) rise and (gradual) fall of the Mercedes-Benz tail-fin

Lindsay Lohan examining the damage to a 2009 (fifth generation) Maserati Quattroporte leased by her father, the impact suffered in a minor traffic accident while her assistant was at the wheel, Los Angeles, 2009.  More than many, Lindsay Lohan probably understands the value of Peilstege.

Chrysler in 1957 really did claim their tail-fins were not mere decorations but "stabilizers" designed to move the centre of pressure rearward.  Although designed during Detroit’s tail-fin craze during the mid-late 1950s, Mercedes-Benz always claimed the Heckflosse (tail-fins), introduced in 1959, weren’t mere stylistic flourishes but rather Peilstege (parking aids or sight-lines (literally "bearing bars")), the construct being peil-, from peilen (take a bearing; find the direction) + Steg (bar) which marked the extent of the bodywork, this to assist while reversing.  It's never been clear if this interpretation existed during the design process or was applied retrospectively in response to criticism after the debut but by 1960, even in the US where the things has assumed absurd proportions, the fin-fad was fast fading.  As a cultural artefact, the distinctiveness of the Heckflosse made them a staple for film-makers crafting the verisimilitude of the 1960s High Cold War, just as the big 600s (W100, 1963-1981) from the same era are used still when wealth or evil (not always synonymous) needs to be conveyed.

1963 Mercedes-Benz 300 SE Lang (Long) (W112).

Although on a longer wheelbase than the standard 300 SE, the model designation remained the same, the SEL nomenclature not appearing until the subsequent (W109) 300 SEL (1965).  The additional framing around the badge appeared only on some early-build models and was a unique embellishment although the 300 SE, by German standards "dripped with chrome".  The chrome trim attached to the tail-fins on the 300 SE and the most expensive of the W111 range (220 S & fuel-injected 220 SE) wasn't fitted to the 220 or the cheaper W110 models and in a quirk of production-line economics, it transpired it was more expensive (ie labor intensive) not to fit the trim because of the additional finishing required.  The alpha-numeric soup of model designations which proliferated from the late 1960s started as something almost logical (ie a 300 used a 3.0 litre engine, a 220 a 2.2 etc) but as new product lines emerged, anomalies increased until, in the early 1990s, it was re-organized although the new system would generate its own inconsistencies and eventually the number often had only a vague relationship with engine displacement.

Heckflosse assembly line, Stuttgart, Germany, 1962.

The Heckflosse was one of the first cars to include in its design the concept of the “safety cell”, a passenger compartment designed to protect the occupants in the case of impacts or roll-overs, the structures to the front and rear (ie the engine bay and luggage compartment) essentially “sacrificial”.  This idea was the ancestor of the modern “crumple zone” in which the front and rear compartments were designed to deform upon impact rather than retaining structural integrity, the object being to absorb and dissipate the energy generated in a crash, preventing it reaching the passengers.  The concept was not new, having for generations been a part of naval architecture, warships using what designers dubbed the “armored citadel”: a kind of “box” containing the vital machinery and magazine (ammunition), the structure created by the armoured deck, waterline belt, and the transverse bulkheads.  While this design didn’t make warships “unsinkable”, it did make them harder to sink and there have been ships which have had their whole bow & stern blown off yet have remained afloat, able to be towed back to port.

Mercedes-Benz Heckflosse in the driveway of Donald Trump’s (b 1946; POTUS 2017-2021 and since 2025) boyhood home, Queens, New York City.

The car is a 230 S, one of the later-build Heckflosses.  In 1965, shortly after the release of the W108 (initially as the 250 S, 250 SE and 300 SE) with a new (almost finless) body, the 230 S was created as a lower-cost six-cylinder model, using a detuned variant of the 2.3 litre engine introduced with the 230 SL (the original “pagoda”, 1963-1971) and fitted with twin carburetors rather than the roadster’s MFI (mechanical fuel injection).  Other than the larger engine, the 230 S substantially was identical to the 220 S but unexpected was the later augmentation of the Heckfosse range with the 230, created by installing a single carburetor version of the 2.3 litre unit into the “short-nosed” W110 body with simplified trim and interior appointments; the W110 previously had been available only in four-cylinder form (gas (petrol) & diesel); in that it was a similar concept to the earlier W105 219 (a model discontinued after German authorities designated it a “tax-dodge” and closed the loophole).  In 1966 the 230 was upgraded to used the twin carburetor engine of the 230 S but was left unchanged in other aspects and with the debut of the smaller W114 & W115 models in 1968, Heckflosse production ended.


A 2019 photograph from inside the house (left, with Donald Trump cardboard cut-out) and 1975 Cadillac Eldorado Coupe.  The fabric used for the chairs in the house looks damnably like the Monticello Dark Crimson Velor (Code 73E for the Eldorado coupe (leather was obligatory in the convertibles)) that was an option for 1975 Cadillac Broughams and Eldorado Coupes.  Although the few surviving examples of Monticello-trimmed 1975 Cadillacs are not especially collectable, when offered for sale, they do attract many comments (some even positive).  Offered also in Medium Green, Medium Maize, Dark Blue, Medium Maize and Dark Rosewood Monticello was a one-year only option (imagine that), Dark Crimson the most eye-catching of the fabrics.

Located in the affluent neighborhood Jamaica Estates in the Queens borough of New York City, the mock-Tudor style house was built in 1940 by the president’s father (Real estate developer Fred Trump (1905–1999)), Donald Trump living there for his first four years of before the family moved into something larger in nearby Midland Parkway; Mr Trump has been “up-sizing” ever since.
  In an indication of the power of the “Trump brand”, the house in July 2026 sold for US$2.14 million, a useful premium above the valuation of “about a million” property analysts suggests might been achieved without the celebrity association.  However, since being bought in March 2025 for US$835,000, a claimed half-million odd had been spent on “renovations and remodelling” the project going “over-budget” because of a “higher than expected spending on a new HVAC (heating, ventilation & air-conditioning) system and the property's garden”.  Still, the flip appears to have booked a profit well over US$750K and, as Donald Trump’s boyhood home, it may well become an official historic site (although for real estate that can be a double-edged sword).


1961 GAZ-13 Chaika (Seagull) (1959-1981, from the Soviet Union, left), Sunbeam Alpine (1959-1968, from the United Kingdom, centre) and 1961 Chrysler Imperial Crown Windsor (from the US, right).  There's long been much comment about the Heckflosse's fins (only the factory called them Peilstege) being a unexpected concession to a styling fad but they do need to be compared with what was happening not only on both sides of the Atlantic but in Moscow too.


1957 Ford Thunderbird and 1959 Auto Union 1000 SP.

Fin-wise, the closest comparison to the Heckflosse was probably the 1957 Ford Thunderbird which, compared with what Chrysler and General Motors (GM) were doing at the time, was quite restrained.  Genuinely, the fins on the first generation Thunderbird (1955-1957) were functional as Peilstege.  In production between 1958-1965 and unashamedly a "scaled-down" borrowing of the Thunderbird's lines, the Auto Union 1000 SP may be the most successful of the many attempts to produce a "smaller version" of an admired model; indeed, many professional stylists went on record rating the German car a more accomplished interpretation of the design elements ("down-scaling" often has resulted in some awkwardness, witness the Triumph Mayflower (1949-1953)).  While the visual clues translated directly, the 1000 SP was built only with a 981 cm3 (60 cubic inch) 3-cylinder two stroke engine while Thunderbirds during the Auto Union's existence had V8s as big as 7.0 litres (430 cubic inch).  Being a two stroke, the 55 HP under the 1000 SP's hood (bonnet) were very busy while the Thunderbirds just wafted along. 


On 1 October 1966, Heckflosses were part of the small motorcade in which, having served the twenty year sentences they were lucky to receive from the International Military Tribunal (IMT) at the first Nuremberg Trial (1945-1946), war criminals Albert Speer (1905–1981; Nazi court architect 1934-1942; Nazi minister of armaments and war production 1942-1945) and Baldur von Schirach (1907-1974; head of the Hitlerjugend (Hitler Youth) 1931-1940 & Gauleiter (district party leader) and Reichsstatthalter (Governor) of Vienna 1940-1945) were driven from Spandau prison in Berlin.  The next day, Speer he boarded a Pan-Am Boeing 727 for a flight to Hanover, his first time on a jet aircraft because in 1945 permission had been denied (ostensibly on security grounds) for him to go on a test flight in one of the two-seater Messerschmitt Me-262s built for pilot-training.  Like many aspects of his life after release, the THF-HAJ flight had been planned while in Spandau, Speer particularly taken with the 727 because he'd so often seen one during its final descent while tending the prison grounds he'd transformed into a landscaped park.

1971 Mercedes-Benz 280 SE 3.5 Coupé (1969-1971).

On the sedans, the uncharacteristic exuberances were left undisturbed until production ended in 1968 although after 1965, the range was restricted to a line of lower cost, utilitarian models.  The coupé and cabriolet went on sale in 1961 and lasted a decade; truncating the Heckflosse, they achieved an elegance of line Mercedes-Benz has never since matched but then, few have.  Students of the German language can decide whether a de-finned two-door is a gestutzte Heckflosse (pruned Heckflosse) or a gerupfte Heckflosse (plucked Heckflosse)

1969 Mercedes-Benz 300 SEL 6.3 (W109, 1968-1972).

By 1965, on the W108 and W109 (1965-1972 and which replaced the more expensive W111 models & all the W112 sedans), the fins, though barely discernible, still existed, the factory noting the contribution to structural rigidity, adding strength without the increase in weight the use of other techniques would have imposed.

1978 Mercedes-Benz 450 SLC 5.0 (C107, 1977-1981).

Advances in metallurgy and engineering meant achieving the required strength became possible even without additional curvature in the metal and in 1971 the R107 (roadster 1971-1989) and C107 (coupé 1971-1981) debuted with the rear surface an uninterrupted flat plane.

1978 Mercedes-Benz 450 SEL 6.9 (V116, 1975-1980).

Despite that, a year later, the W116 sedans (1972-1980) were released with the most vestigial of fins.  The retention of styling elements between generations is not unusual, the second generation Range Rover reprising the earlier model’s distinctive hood creases, even though no longer a structural necessity.  Because there was uncertainty around whether US regulators would outlaw convertibles, no coupé or cabriolet version of the W116 was developed which is why a LWB (long wheelbase) coupé version of the R107 SL was released (as the C107 SLC) and the R107 lasted an impressive 18 years, not replaced until 1989.

Mercedes-Benz design studio conceptual sketch for W112 Coupé, circa 1958 (left) and a custom 300 SE “Heckflossee coupé” (right).  The tubular headrests were nicknamed Biskuitrolles (jam rolls); in keeping the culinary theme, they were later replaced by “croissants”.

The factory’s claim the fins were Peilstege rather than “fashionable styling” was in 1959 at least plausible because, when the W111 was released, in the press kits there were many details of the emphasis on safety including features such as the “safety cell”, “crumple zones” and door-locking mechanisms designed cognizant of the results of “crash-testing”.  Providing drivers with a simple means to determine the point of the rear extremities was part of that vibe.  However, even in 1959 it was clear the fins were becoming passé and at the first opportunity (the W111 coupé first shown in 1960) the studio pruned them to the point they could no longer be said to be “parking aids” which does reinforce the suspicion the modest protrusions might after all been a slavish following of fashion.  The sketches in the company’s archives do support that, several conceptual sketches of the two-door W111 & W112 showing not only the fins but also “dog-leg” windscreen pillars, another motif from Detroit the Americans shortly would abandon.  Few doubt the factory made the right decisions in the final “pruned” form but the idea of a “Heckflosse Coupé” did intrigue some and at least one has been constructed.

1954 Chevrolet Corvette.

Mercedes-Benz in the late 1950s of course never was tempted to follow the lead of GM and Chrysler (Ford never really got involved) in making the W111's tailfins (whether they were really there to help when parking or were merely thought fashionable) truly macropterous but that doesn't mean Detroit didn't influence things because the Americans also did some small, "Heckflossesque" fins and one intriguing element on the original Chevrolet Corvette was the use of protrusions to house the taillights.  When in 1953 the Corvette was released, the fins with which US cars of the era were to become so associated had been around for a few year but hadn’t yet grown (variously upwards & outwards) to the absurd proportions they would later assume and there was nothing unusual in taillights being housed in some construction integrated with the bodywork; once just “bolted-on” lens, taillights had become a design element.  What appeared on the early Corvettes are not really fins and are most analogous with the streamlined nacelles which appeared on contemporary aircraft as enclosures for jet engines; that aspect of aviation architecture would for years be a popular motif for the taillight stylists (by then a highly valued member of the team).  Despite that, the accepted term describing the sculptural extensions is “taillight pod”.  Interestingly, in some of the internal corporate memos the term “nacelle” was used but “pod” became the accepted standard.

Beginning of the brief "four finlets" trend: 1954 Corvette (left) and 1953 Fiat 8V Supersonic (right).

The pair of small blades adorning the upper surface (although sometimes referred to as “finettes”) were in the documents of the GM Design Studio called “taillight bezels” or “ornamental finlets” and, modest as they were, the C1 Corvette was among the first production cars with “four fins” (the feature in 1953 also appearing on some examples of the exquisite Fiat 8V (1952-1954)), most manufacturers tending to fit them in pairs although, as a piece of biomimicry of aquatic species, some of the memorable inter-war and early post-war Tatras from Czechoslovakia had a single "central fin" running downwards from the rear of the roof.  The Tatra's fin (the concept familiar from LSR (Land Speed Record) machines) was there to enhance straight line stability and it was needed because of the car's configuration (advanced aerodynamics, a rear-mounted V8 engine and swing axles).  The fin did what it said on the tin but did little to alter the handling characteristics which, by virtue of the mechanical layout, could in unskilled hands be challenging.  The Corvette's behavior was more predictable but that didn't apply to the stylists (they weren't yet "designers") at GM and Chrysler who embarked on a process of “finflation” from which, mercifully, Chevrolet's sports car was spared.  Those on the early Corvettes were at least in a similar aspect ratio to those which appeared on actual jet engine nacelles where they were used to direct airflow in the desired direction and there would have been a slight aerodynamic effect (for better or worse) but the finlets were essentially decorative as GM’s memos indicated and similar additions even appeared on some dagmars (such as the 1954 Buicks).  The Corvette’s designers clearly though the moment had passed for when the restyled 1956 range was released, the pods had been banished, never again to be seen on the sports car.

1959 Pontiac Bonneville Convertible (left) and 1959 Pontiac Catalina Convertible (right).  Pontiac used the elongation of the elliptical taillights as a marker of a model's place in the division's hierarchy.

On the Corvette, the “taillight pod” and “ornamental finlets” combo didn’t make it into the 1956 range but the idea clearly became lodged somewhere in the GM collective memory because, on a grander scale, both were reprised on the 1959 Pontiacs; longer, higher and wider than the 1953 original, the look might have attracted more publicity had GM’s take on fins that year not been dominated by the Cadillac with the “twin bullet taillights” and the Chevrolet’s “bat wings”.  Compared with those extravagances, what Pontiac did was almost subtle and anyway overshadowed by two of the division’s more enduring debuts, the “split grill” and “year of the wide-track” campaign, the former coming and going, the latter lasting for more than a decade.  In a harbinger of what was to come (and ultimately doom Pontiac), all five GM divisions built their cars using the single platform of the GM B-Body and it was remarkable the stylists were able to achieve noticeably different appearances despite sharing the same structural core.  Whether the 1959 Pontiac's four finlets made them a more functional Peilstege than the two on the 1959 Heckflosse seems dubious although at 213.7 inches in length (5,428 mm) compared with the W111's 192 (4,875), drivers of Pontiacs would have needed them more.  Even a 1959 Rolls-Royce Silver Cloud II was only 213 inches (5,410) long and its bustleback had no fins whatever but many were chauffeur-driven so presumably “the help” were anyway good at parking. 

The Heckflosse as rally and race car

Mercedes-Benz 220 SE, Monte Carlo Rally, 1960.

To those accustomed to how things are done in the modern WRC (World Rally Championship) or have memories of the marvellous Group B cars of the 1980s (a category which enthralled everybody except the clipboard crew at the FIA (Fédération Internationale de l'Automobile (the International Automobile Federation)) which, being international sport’s dopiest regulatory body, of course outlawed the things) it will seem improbable the Heckflosse would have been a successful rally car but the record was illustrious.  It’s best remembered for the 220 SE which won the 1960 Monte Carlo Rally but there were many other successes including the 1961 Algiers-Cape Town Central Africa Rally, an arduous event of some 13,500 kilometres (8400 miles) conducted over several weeks on a route from Cape Town to Algiers (a 190 D (a diesel-engined W121 “pontoon” rather than a Heckflosse) had won in 1959 which proved it was a rally which didn’t rely solely on speed).  First run in 1951 and based on an event staged in 1930, in 1956 a Fiat 1100 and a Ford Ranch Wagon V8 (two vehicles most unalike) had tied for first place, the latter driven by Elon Musk's (b 1971) maternal grandfather, chiropractor Joshua Norman Haldeman (1902–1974), who was an interesting character.

Mercedes-Benz factory rally team (part of the competition department, scaled down since the withdrawal from top-flight Formula One and sports car racing after 1999),  Acropolis Rally, 1963.

The most prestigious African rally was the East African Safari and a Heckflosse 220 SE won in 1961, following victories by 219s the previous two years. The 219 (W105, 1956-1959) was a curious anomaly among the post-war Mercedes-Benz saloons in terms of both nomenclature and engineering.  Using a “mix & match” approach which had been part of the transportation business even before things became motorized, the 219 used the 2.2 litre six-cylinder engine familiar in the various 220s (W128 & W180) but mounted it on the shorter “pontoon” platform used by the 4-cylinder 180 & 190 (W120 & W121) variants, the sacrificed length all accounted for by the shorter rear-doors (and thus wheelbase).  It was one of the more elaborate “de-frilling” exercises seen around the world, the variations including a lower cost version of an existing model (Citroën ID vs DS, Cadillac Calais vs De Ville or Chevrolet Biscayne vs Bel Air & Impala) or an existing body with a smaller engine substituted (Humber Hawk vs Super Snipe).  The 219’s designation was unusual in that it was the only occasion the familiar three numerals featured something other than a “0” as the last digit and it’s notable also because the factory, in a blatant attempt to evade the taxes levied on cars with 2.2 litre engines, slightly reduced the displacement.  The FRG (Bundesrepublik Deutschland (Federal Republic of Germany; the old West Germany) 1949-1990) government must have decided this was “un-German” trickery (dieselgate was decades away) because eventually they informed Daimler-Benz the 219 would be taxed as a 2.2 litre vehicle,  This brought production to an end because the effect of the tax increase would have negated the advantage the 219 had enjoyed.

The winning Mercedes-Benz 300 SE, Spa-Francorchamps 24 Hour, 1964.  Note the absence of the chrome trim which usually adorned the W112, the same weight-saving measure not always applied to the rally cars.

Although not obviously a machine built for the circuits, the Heckflosse did win enjoy success on the track, a 220 SE in 1961 winning the second Armstrong 500 in Australia, the event which became the annual Bathurst 1000.  It was even less obviously a rally car but the 220 SE enjoyed a remarkable record in the Poland Rally, winning four successive titles between 1960-1964 and the car also won the 1962 Liège-Sofia-Liège, the factory taking the title in the same event in 1963 with the new 230 SL (the W113 “Pagoda”, 1963-1971).  The Heckflosse also won the Acropolis Rally in two successive years, a 220 SE taking the chequered flag in 1962 and a 300 SE (W112) the following year.  The 300 SE was very much a luxury model which used the then still novel engineering of air suspension which provided a smooth ride but added to weight and complexity, neither quality sought by teams using cars in competition although the system did have the advantage of permitting ground clearance easily to be adjusted; to compensate for the added mass, the 300 SE used a variant of the 3.0 litre straight-6 from the 300 SL (W198; 1954-1963) Gullwing and roadster, a powerful, robust unit.  However, by 1963 it was obvious the days of the big sedans being effective rally cars was drawing to a close; the greater power of the 300 SE had permitted the Heckflosse quite an Indian summer but the immediate future clearly belonged to lighter, more nimble machines such as the Alfa Romeo Giulia, Mini Cooper, Saab 96 and Volvo 122.

Ewy Rosqvist with 220 SE Heckflosse.

However, whether on the circuits or the rally course, there was in the early 1960s nothing unusual about men winning trophies but something of note happened on November 4, 1962 when two Swedish women (driver Ewy Rosqvist (1929–2024) & co-driver Ursula Wirth (1934–2019)), in a 220 SE Fintail (Heckflosse) won the VI Gran Premio Internacional Standard Supermovil YPF (Sixth Touring Car Grand Prix of Argentina), conducted over five days and 2,874 miles (4,625 km) on some of the country’s gruelling, mountainous roads.  The women not only won but dominated the event; for the first time, a single vehicle won all six stages and they set a new race record.  To rub it in, all other competitors were men.  Ewy Rosqvist’s only complaint about the 220 SE was that when driving in the mountains, she’d have preferred one with power steering.  According to company lore, the rough road and hot weather testing of one of the competition department's Heckflosses was conducted in the Australian outback (a good place to find both qualities) and, as test drivers, the factory sent with the car the Ott brothers (dubbed by the locals “Crash Ott” and “Red Ott”); the report from the two burly Bavarians assured head office power assistance was “not needed” because the steering was  “acceptably light”.  

220 SE Heckflosse with spotter plane above.

Working as a veterinary assistant travelling between remote farms, Ewy Rosqvist was brought up on a diet of twisty, often icy roads of dubious quality and it was on those she learned the finer points of rally-style driving, travelling sometimes up to 200 km (125 miles) in a day.  With animals to care for, speed was required (in her bag was often some “time-critical” bull semen) and she took to keeping a log-book in which she recorded how long it took to go from one farm to the next; these entries she regarded as her “lap times”.  Later, she would recall the “unpaved roads, gravel paths and farm roads” with some gratitude because they honed techniques which proved good enough for her to win several European rally championships; she called her memoir Fahrt durch die Hölle (Driving through Hell (1963)).

Argentine Turismo Standard Grand Prix, 1962.

Victory celebrations: Ewy Rosqvist (left) with Ursula Wirth (right).  Between them (in sunglasses) stands Mercedes-Benz team manager Karl Kling (1910–2003) who was a factory driver in 1954-1955, driving both the W196R F1 cars and W196S (300 SLR) sports cars.

Although Daimler-Benz was not unaware of the publicity which would be generated by having a women driving for their competition department, when in 1962 the factory offered her a seat in the Mercedes-Benz works team, genuinely the appointment was on merit and with what was achieved in South America, she justified her place.  The team had appeared in Argentina with a four-car entry (two 220 SEs (W111) and two 300 SEs (W112)), the operation run with the sort of thoroughness which had characterized their Grand Prix campaigns in the 1930s & 1950s and, given the conditions encountered, it was just as well: of the 286 vehicles which started only 43 would finish.  Immediately the women made an impression by winning the first stage and they repeated the feat on the subsequent five, eventually finishing three hours ahead of the second-placed Volvo and setting a new record average speed of 126.87 km/h (78.84 mph).  Undeniably, the women were the most glamorous and photogenic in the field and they captured the country’s imagination, German language newspaper Freie Presse (published in Buenos Aires) reporting: “It was not the Cuban missile crisis [16-28 October 1962], but rather the two blondes from Scandinavia who dominated the headlines in the country’s daily newspapers.”