
| Engine | Displacement | Power | Acceleration | Top Speed |
| Straight 2 two stroke | 0.6 L | 26-29 bhp | 100 km/h 62 mph |
The car carried the marketing name Trabant, but the actual brand behind it was Sachsenring – hence the ‚S’ logo on the hood – and the model itself was shaped by designers of Horch and Audi. The name ‚Trabant’ roughly translates to a ‚faithful companion.’ It’s also a term used for satellites – and not by accident did it end up on this car’s body.
At the very same time, the Soviets had just launched Sputnik into space, and the Eastern Bloc decided to mark the moment with a car of their own – one that, much like the Beetle on the other side of the Berlin Wall, was meant to motorize communist Germany.



In the 1930s, the automotive landscape of Germany looked quite different than now. The prominent names were Adler, Auto Union, BMW, Mercedes, and Opel. Audi and Volkswagen, as we know them, only really came into existence after the war.
All major centers of technological development were located deep within the country. This was a part of the war effort – intended to make potential Allied attacks on these facilities more difficult. Fighter aircrafts, V2 rockets, and research in chemistry and metallurgy were all centralized and carried out in regions like Thuringia.
Naturally, German factories became prime targets, and American air raids reduced many of them to rubble. Among the hardest hit were the Horch production lines. Most of the workers checked out under the pressure of ‚democracy’ being dropped straight onto their heads from the sky, while many others ended up in Soviet captivity after the bombed-out territories were handed over to them. And there were also those who fell victim to the war – unrelated to the bombings.
All in all – shituation was suboptimal. The Soviets came in, took the machinery, and shipped it off to Mother Russia to help build a strong communist economy. The result – from German perspective – was that the Horch factory was partially destroyed, while the Audi halls across the street avoided the bombing… but were left completely empty.



The Cold War broke out. Germany was divided into four zones of influence. The West went to the Americans, the British, and the French – the East fell under Soviet control.
Thuringia had been a major production hub before the war, but it relied heavily on supply chains – coal, for instance, but also metals and other materials. Now, the British and Americans had absolutely no intention of supplying Soviet-run factories with what they needed, and the quality of Soviet sheet metal was good for fuck all – not for building a car, that’s for sure.
The Soviets had very little room to maneuver with the limited amount of usable materials they had. So all those specialists who had once worked on Germany’s finest pre-war limousines were now tasked with designing a small ‚car for the masses’ – something that could be built essentially out of nothing. They had no machinery, no materials, not even the right personnel – and on top of that, everything had to go through Soviet hands.
The car was meant to be full-sized – unlike something like the BMW Isetta. It had to have four wheels, carry four passengers, and offer at least some luggage space.
For power, they used engines left over from before the war. Quite a few DKWs had survived, since they weren’t particularly useful to the military. Their frames were made of wood, and two-stroke engines left a trail of smoke behind them. So the obvious solution – given the shortage of materials and the abundance of these engines – was to use them in the new vehicle.
The first project was the P70.



I use the word ‚project’ and not ‚model’, because the P70 was more of a placeholder – a test platform for the new car. Continuing production based on DKW plans was impossible, and developing a car from scratch quickly – even more so. The P70 was essentially a prototype for testing, and one heavily based on DKW.
It used pre-war suspension, frame, and body built in a similar way out of wood. The engine was flipped and moved ahead of the front axle instead of sitting behind it, as in the DKW. The car was closely related to the DKW F8, but its body was made from a completely new material – a type of plastic.
All of this was because building a car out of metal simply wasn’t an option, and DKW had already been experimenting with innovative solutions before the war. They were doing crash tests and developed materials that, in some ways, were better suited than wood – or even steel.
Duroplast – a composite material made from cotton fibers pressed with resin – was easy to produce with the machinery they still had (the heavy equipment had already been shipped off to Russia). It was strong, lightweight, resistant to rust, and easy to paint. It also didn’t burn like modern electric cars. The body panels were glued onto the frame – nothing was bolted in place.
The P70, however, wasn’t suitable for stable production – it was too large and required too many materials. Its wooden frame was already outdated. The Germans simply couldn’t continue with this project.



The P50 plan, which was meant to replace it, was smaller and more optimized. Germans eventually concluded that the car’s structure should be made of steel, with composite panels mounted on top. The rigid rear axle was replaced with independent suspension. The old motorcycle-style gearbox with a chain drive was abandoned. In its place came a transverse drivetrain with a differential – something that remains standard to this day.
In the Trabant, though, you changed gears with some ridiculous little lever by the steering wheel. Its looks were updated over time, but technically, it was always the same car underneath. The front-wheel-drive layout was actually quite modern. On top of that, the weight distribution loaded the front end more heavily, which made it handle surprisingly well. The Trabant even had a rack-and-pinion steering system.
The first mass-produced examples saw the light of day in 1958. They may have arrived later than intended, turned out worse than expected – but at least they were twice as expensive as planned. Still, the car was gradually refined over the years. It eventually received a synchronized gearbox, and the displacement of the initially 0.5-liter engines grew to 0.6 liters, allowing it to reach 100 km/h.
The Trabant wasn’t popular just in the Eastern Bloc – it also found its way to places like the Netherlands, Belgium, and Denmark. It went up against the likes of NSU and DAF, and in Poland, against the Syrena and the Fiat 126p.



The 601 entered production in 1964 and looked much better than its predecessors. It featured a refreshed body and more space inside – both for passengers and for luggage. Over time, it received improved brakes and a revised rear suspension (switching from leaf springs to coils).
It was more modern, but in reality, it not much of a step forward over its predecessor. The engine kept snapping crankshafts just like in the earlier models. That was down to the poor quality of fuel in socialist countries. Those small two-strokes simply couldn’t cope – while in the West, everyone was already moving on to four-stroke engines.
The Trabant lasted 26 years without any major changes. The 601 was available in several body styles, but the sedan (Limousine) was the dominant one. There was also the 601 Universal station wagon, versions with a sort-of automatic box, and even ones with an extra 3 horsepower squeezed in – but for better engines, you had to wait until 1990. And even that wasn’t really worth it, because they used a 1.1-liter unit known from the VW Polo – and the model was discontinued just a year later.



There were plenty of ideas on the table. Bigger engines were considered, even Wankel units. A hatchback, years before the West really embraced that concept. But the Soviets – as usual – blocked any further development. They already had a ‚car for the people,’ so why change anything if goal was achieved? They preferred to allocate resources to more ‚luxurious’ vehicles… like the Wartburg.
That’s why the Trabant 602 never happened – nor did the 603 or 610. All of them were scrapped, and there was always some excuse. The 601 was only replaced in 1990 – after the fall of the Berlin Wall – by the Trabant 1.1. Under the hood, there was a 40-horsepower Volkswagen engine. Externally, not much changed – maybe a new grille, different bumpers. It did get better brakes than before…
… but it was still the same car – competing in the 1990s market with the likes of the VW Polo, which you didn’t have to wait 15 years for, unlike the Trabant. Used ones often cost as much as new ones – or even more – simply because they were available immediately. That’s why I’m only mentioning the 1.1 only briefly – it was produced for just two years, and there’s not much more to say about it. In total, nearly 4 million Trabants were sold worldwide.



Engineers from Audi and Horch created a car that was meant to be as simple as possible – yet still functional – and easy to build despite such severe shortages of materials. Because it saw so few meaningful changes over time, we look at the Trabant today as a backward relic of the past. But when it first entered production, it was a highly innovative – albeit simple – piece of engineering.
The early Corvette was the first car with a plastic body – the Trabant (or rather its ‚prototype,’ the P70) came second, right after Chevrolet. The car didn’t really excel at anything, but it earned a cult following. It was cheap, durable, and easy to maintain.
And honestly – not even all that ugly.
Krzysztof Wilk
All sources: it was a text retrieved from my lost webpage – sources will need to be filled later









































