Series ‘Forgotten Airfield Races’ – Episode 5: Diepholz

When, in July 1968, I was due to cover the premiere event at the Bundeswehr airbase in Diepholz, I first had to check a map to see the best way to get there. My first impression on arrival: Good heavens, what a desolate area, what a gloomy, taciturn and reserved lot of people.

When I think back today, more than half a century later, to Diepholz, its airfield races and the dedicated organising team behind them, I find myself saying, almost wistfully: what a shame that this wonderful event no longer exists.

How wrong one can be. The supposedly bad-tempered, unfriendly people in the flat countryside of the north quickly turned out to be amiable and loyal folk. Over the three decades during which I regularly travelled to Diepholz – serving in the dual role of journalist and track announcer – right up until the race was last held in August 1998, I never met a single colleague who didn’t enjoy it there.

The same goes for the participants, who were always keen to travel to the AMC Diepholz’s major motorsport event. And for the spectators, the airfield race was a special attraction anyway, as they were always treated to motorsport highlights during the race weekends. Whether it was the DRM, the Super Cup, the Race of Champions, the DTM or whatever else – there was never a Diepholz race without an attractive main event.

Which organiser in this country can proudly claim that, over the 31 years of their airfield race, a total of 37 Formula 1 drivers have taken to the starting grid? From Niki Lauda to Clay Regazzoni to Keke Rosberg, from Alan Jones to Ronnie Peterson to Michael Schumacher, and from Stefan Bellof to Hans Joachim Stuck and Jochen Mass – they were all there at some point.

The fact that so many prominent F1 drivers were able to line up on the starting grid in Diepholz at all was primarily down to the intense commitment of the shock absorber manufacturer Bilstein and its sporting director, Hugo Emde. The enterprising Bilstein sponsor organised the premiere of a ‘Race of Champions’ on the airfield circuit in the north using identical Chevrolet Camaros; this was subsequently repeated with BMW M1s, Ford Escort XR3s and Fiesta XR2s. Thanks to Emde’s excellent international connections, most of the Formula 1 stars mentioned above also took part.

But there were also plenty of spectacular crashes on the 2.6 km-long circuit. Take, for example, the universally dreaded track and chicane barriers made up of those dreaded old oil drums filled with water. Anyone who had ever experienced the full force of the destruction to their own car on impact – such as Armin Hahne – would have been happy to do without any further encounters of that sort.

And a sizeable car graveyard in the Ostkurve was always guaranteed in wet weather. That’s where Ronnie Peterson first parked his BMW 320 on a cool bag just centimetres from the spectators, and where four or five cars would sometimes crash into and pile on top of one another. Or where BMW Turbo driver Peter Hennige ended up, joining several of his brand-mates who had already been flung there following spectacular crashes.

Among the most terrifying moments was when Harald Grohs was sitting in a sports car ablaze, the Austrian ‘Fritz Glatz’ – alias Pierre Chauvet – in his Formula 3 racing car actually flew over the crash barriers, or when Franz Konrad, after a spectacular spin at the start-finish line, missed the ageing track announcer’s Transit van by just a few centimetres. Over the 31 years of the Diepholz race, there were certainly many moments and events worth mentioning. From the wealth of memories, I’d like to single out just a few that have remained particularly vivid in my mind.

The ‘Open Pipe’ and its consequences

When the ONS (now the DMSB) decided in 1985, as part of the general introduction of catalytic converters, to make them mandatory for motor racing too – and in doing so significantly lowered the permissible noise level of DTM cars – the drivers and organisers of the DTM races were anything but pleased. The cars became noticeably quieter, whilst the spectators grew frustrated at the loss of the typical racing sound. When the DTM visited Diepholz in 1985, race director Peter Rumpfkeil decided “that the race would be run with open exhausts”. His reasoning: “I cannot and will not subject my audience to whisper-quiet cars; after all, people come to our race partly for the sound.” So the Sierra XR4 TI, BMW, Volvo and the rest roared across Diepholz airfield as ever, with open exhausts and a throaty roar. AMC Diepholz, as the organiser, promptly faced the consequences of this defiant solo move. The ONS stripped the race of all championship status for 1986 and revoked Peter Rumpfkeil’s race director’s licence.

The longest table

The 1995 DTM weekend in Diepholz was incredibly hot, with a massive crowd, a fantastic atmosphere – they even ran out of tickets. In the paddock the evening before, something happened that would be completely unthinkable today. Alfa, Mercedes and Opel pushed their tables together to form a seemingly endless line and celebrated a barbecue together. It was the longest table the DTM had ever seen. There were no dividing lines between the manufacturers; everyone sampled each other’s specialities. Alfa red wine was just as popular as Mercedes steaks or Opel grilled sausages. The whole affair went on in a relaxed atmosphere, accompanied by a great deal of noise, until night fell. At some point, in high spirits from the wine and feeling very positive about the experiment, Norbert Haug whispered in my ear: ‘Battling it out on the track during the day and drinking together in the evening – that’s how it should be.’

Spectator rush and ticket fiasco

From 1990 onwards, the DTM races in Diepholz brought the organisers a veritable spectator rush. In 1995, finally, all hell broke loose and the flow of spectators swelled to such an extent that tickets ran out on Sunday. At the end of a hot and sunny race weekend, a record number of around 85,000 race-goers were counted. A one-off record for an airfield race in this country – an impressive spectacle.

Throughout the 31 years at Diepholz Airfield, the name Rumpfkeil stood as a guarantee of excellent organisation, carried out with heart and dedication. Peter and his wife Margarethe, along with the wider family circle – including their son Timo – were always at the heart of all the Diepholz races.

There was the infamous caravan in the infield, which served as the hub of all key activities and from which Margarethe, together with her team of helpers, resolutely ran the show. It was truly astonishing what went on here in such a small space: staff on duty were fed homemade sausage sandwiches, coffee and tea in the area on the right-hand side. On the left-hand side, entry fees and prize money were paid out through the window, which was flipped up. And whenever sporting penalties or protests had to be dealt with, the catering area was briefly cleared to make way for the arrival of the race commissioners …

On 23 August 1998, the fans bid farewell to Diepholz Airfield. The costs of setting up and dismantling the track, as well as safety measures, had simply become unaffordable. Despite excellent spectator turnout, the cost-benefit analysis no longer added up. Yet Diepholz was one of the last to survive – of the roughly 30 airfields in Germany once used for racing events, hardly any remain today for racing events alone.

It was the foreseeable end of a racing format that nobody was willing or able to take responsibility for any longer. The newly built Motorsport Arena in Oschersleben subsequently became – and remains to this day – the new, permanent home for the AMC Diepholz’s racing events. Although it once again hosts all the major motorsport events and title races, the venue itself unfortunately lacks that certain charm that made Diepholz so popular.

German motorsport has had to bid farewell not only to Diepholz, but now also to Peter Rumpfkeil. The race director and mastermind behind the airfield races passed away in May 2021. On 6 July 2026, he would have turned 85.