Heavy rain made the 1923 Le Mans 24 Hours a miserable experience for all concerned — none more than Bentley drivers John Duff and Frank Clement, who raced without helmets or goggles throughout.

Duff, born in China to Canadian parents, was a colourful character who had, amongst other racing activities, acquired a 1908 Fiat Grand Prix car which he had campaigned at Brooklands until its engine blew in half. Having disposed of the Fiat's remnants (to a fellow racer who would rebuild it with a 22-litre aircraft engine…) in 1922, Duff set his sights on the newly announced 24-hour race at Le Mans and entered a Bentley 3.0 Sport under his own name for the first edition of the vingt-quatre heures.

In this enterprise he would be partnered by Bentley test driver Frank Clement, who duly gave the car its first test run along the company's preferred route: out of the workshop and north up the A5 towards Stanmore, where Brockley Hill stood as a test of each Bentley's ability to accelerate under load.

W.O. Bentley himself? He thought the race was a terrible idea, and only revised his opinion after witnessing his car giving ‘em what for.

Duff and Clement kept the leading Chennard et Walcker cars honest in the opening hours, but as darkness fell a stone penetrated one of their headlights. Chennard et Walcker offered to give them a spare, but Duff and Clement elected to continue, reasoning that they would lose more time in stopping to change the light — with only one person allowed to work on the car at a time — than they would in muddling along with the holed one working intermittently. By dawn, the Bentley was two laps down on the leader.

Duff took the wheel at 9 AM and set lap record after lap record in pursuit of the two cars ahead, but shortly before midday the Bentley sputtered to a halt. A stone had holed its fuel tank. Duff made best speed on foot back to the pits—a distance of three miles — while the stewards determined that Clement could borrow a bicycle to pedal back to the stranded car with what petrol he could carry once Duff had arrived. This he did, thoughtfully slinging the bicycle into the back of the Bentley so it could be reunited with its owner once he brought the car in.

Repairs cost over two hours, and while Clement broke the lap record once he returned to the course, there would be no catching the leaders. Bentley would have to settle for fourth place.

Shifting the date to June for 1924 delivered better weather. Bentley won, but then in 1925 fell foul of a rule change which dictated that all cars had to run with their soft-tops erected until the first fuel stop, a minimum of 20 laps. Bentley hadn't calculated the effect this would have on fuel consumption. The car photographed here (well, most of it — few cars of the period are fully original this long after the fact) stopped at the Pontlieue hairpin, out of fuel.

Bentley went on to dominate the race in the second half of the decade, breaking the domestic monopoly on the entry and setting the annual enduro on its way to legendary status.