The Burke-Francisco "Sweet 16" Belly Tank
It’s an obvious and enormous understatement to say that World War II profoundly changed our country and the lives of the men, women, and children who fought through it, both overseas and on the home front. Your author is young enough to understand all of this based only on grandparents’ stories and old articles. I have absolutely no doubt that it was all way more profound to those who lived through it than subsequent generations will ever understand.
It's also an understatement to say that WWII had a profound affect on the birth of hot rodding. Prior to the war, they weren’t even called hot rods. We heard all about this from Ed Iskenderian a while back. But there was a small group of dedicated folks who were figuring out how to hop up their cars and turn in better times at the dry lakes. The Southern California Timing Association was formed in 1938 to organize the competition between this ragtag group of lakes racers.
When Pearl Harbor was attacked in 1941, the fledgling sport of hot rodding was kneecapped. Most of the founding fathers of our hobby were called into action, so action in the hot rod world was all but nonexistent for a few years. But while those hopped-up flatheads and ‘bangers were sitting silently in garages, driveways, and lean-to’s awaiting their owner’s return, something bigger was brewing, and it became the cocktail that would fuel the hot rod explosion of the post-war era.
The first ingredient was simply word of mouth. These hot rod jockeys, primarily from California, got mixed in with other guys from all over the country. Tales of mechanical mayhem and high-speed heroics were told in tents and on ships all over the world, spreading the word and adding just another line to the long list of reasons to make it back home. Second, scores of men and women were suddenly being trained to build and maintain the machines of war. As such, they became a generation who really knew how to build things. On top of that, many continued this education through the GI Bill after returning home. Finally, when you add to the elixir the fact that many of these guys were living on the ragged edge, flying planes, dropping bombs, and steering ships under constant threat of total catastrophe. A quiet life back home might have started to seem a little dull after a while. Why not throw some speed parts at that jalopy and feel some of that old thrill?
If you've heard this little history lesson before, forgive us. But we think it bears repeating because the purple “C Streamliner” that we’re featuring here (and much of subsequent land speed racing history) would not have existed if things hadn't played out that way. So, without further ado, it’s time to meet the creator not only of this car, but of the belly tank itself; Bill Burke.
When the SCTA was formed in '38, Burke was member number 45. When the US entered WWII a few years later, he joined the fight. He spent his time during the war piloting a PT boat in the South Pacific and was docked at Guadalcanal one fateful day when he had a game-changing idea. He spotted a boat loaded down with teardrop-shaped auxiliary aircraft fuel tanks and realized that they would make for perfect, aerodynamic race car bodies. It was a brilliant idea, and one that would help shape the future of hot rodding.
Burke went back to the work of winning the war, but when he returned home in 1946, he wasted no time making his idea a reality. He had a belly tank racer at El Mirage by April of that year, made from a small, 165-gallon P-51 tank. The engine was in the front, leaving little room for the driver in the tiny tank. In fact, there was nothing more than a bicycle seat for the driver to sit on, and a good portion of his body was hanging out in the breeze. But it was fast, and it didn’t take long for Burke to improve on his brilliant idea.
Realizing that the job of stuffing a flathead V8 and a driver into a belly tank might be easier with a little more real estate, Burke began construction in early ’47 of a new car, this time based on a 300-gallon tank meant for a P-38. He also had some help on this one from partner Don Francisco. This time, the car was built with the engine placed behind the driver, allowing everything to fit much more nicely and keeping the engine and driver contained inside, out of the airflow and out of harm’s way. But that’s not the tank that we’re looking at in these pictures. That one was crashed, or has Hot Rod Magazine reported "cracked up," and the car in these photos was put together using parts salvaged from the wreckage in only 8 days(!). The car would come to be known as "Sweet 16" after its first number, so given because Burke had finished 16th in SCTA points the previous year.
How do you make a car out of something that was never meant to be on the ground? Underneath that slippery bodywork, it’s basically a traditional hot rod using pieces familiar to most of us. The frame was built from Model T and Model A pieces, using a Model A front axle and spring and a Model A rear axle mounted solidly to the frame. This allowed the engine to mount solidly as well and, in its original configuration, mate up to the 2.76:1-geared rearend with only a clutch and short driveshaft, saving valuable weight and space that would have been consumed by a transmission.
The first version of the car ran a ’42 Merc with a displacement of 272 inches. It was stuffed with a Harman & Collins Super H cam and topped with Edelbrock heads and intake. The twin Stromberg 48 carburetors huffed methanol from a tank mounted at the rear of the car and pressurized not by the then-standard hand pump, but instead by a clever air tank mounted next to the engine. Just one of a million tricks used by Burke and Francisco to build a revolutionary car.
And oh by did it go. Running as a C Streamliner, “Sweet 16” started setting records right out of the gate. It set the class record in ’47 at 139.21 mph, then broke its own record twice in ’48 on its way to becoming the first hot rod to set a record over 150 with a 151.085 mph record in July of ’49. Just for fun, imagine yourself strapped into this thing, peering through that tiny windscreen, with the hammer down at 150. Yee haw.
It’s important to note that about this time, a final garnish was added to the hot rod cocktail that we described earlier, and it’s a big one; Hot Rod Magazine. First Published in 1948, it gave a voice, a name, and national exposure to the now resurgent and exploding action on the streets and lakes of So Cal (and increasingly across the country). The scattered hop up hobby and its under-the-radar practitioners were now given a channel to share ideas and show off their creations and accomplishments.
Then as now, getting in Hot Rod was a big deal. So for this belly tank to be featured on the August ’49 cover with the subhead “World’s Fastest Hot Rod” must have been a huge point of pride for the man who invented the belly tank. The article inside featured a Rex Burnett cutaway and photos by none other than Robert E. Petersen himself. Burke would continue to build an impressive resume as a racer and hot rodder. As for that record setting belly tanker, “Sweet 16” would eventually end up in the collection of another racer with an impressive list of accomplishments and a soft spot for belly tanks; Bobby Green. Thanks to Bobby for loaning the Bill Burke “Sweet 16” to the Museum of American Speed, where it sits surrounded by a number of other land speed racers that may not even have existed were it not for this groundbreaking car and the brilliant men who made it a legend.