Forrest Lycett and his amazing 8-litre Bentley (Page 7 of 9)
Motor Sport Magazine, July 1998

 

These runs were magic to a young enthusiast (me) but there were comic interludes. As when we got drenched (there was no hood) and Lycett swung into the yard of The Bell at Henley-on-Thames, demanding hot baths, at 3.30 in the afternoon. When refused, he was distinctly surprised and I sensed a strong letter to the management... You might be invited to breakfast, then be driven, very swiftly but safely, perhaps to see Lycett's solicitor in Salisbury, then even faster to Weybridge, for a spell on the Track.

 

The 8-litre takes a last run up Shelsley Walsh before the War

 

During the war the 8-litre was kept as a tight fit in a wooden shed near the cottage to which its owner had moved, from bomb-ridden Kensington. I was invited for another run in it, while the last few gallons of Discol lasted. Lycett's man was set to crank-up, his master helping by using the starter at intervals, which served to lift the luckless servant off his feet every time the button was released. Then the carburettors caught fire.

 

The man ran out of the shed and I tried to do likewise. But my belt had caught on a nail, so I quickly began to remove my leather coat, likewise to escape. At that moment the flames were sucked into the engine, Lycett having remained in his seat. He immediately castigated his man-servant for cowardice, "while Boddy was about to use his coat to douse the fire..." From then on, I was always "the courageous fellow"...

 

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