Brian Palmer's June 1983 article in Thoroughbred and Classic Car Magazine (UK), appears to be the starting place of the myth of the Tatra T87 being a 'Nazi Killer.' The story is attributed to engineer Albert Richter, whom Palmer interviewed for his story. As I have commented elsewhere, Richter is not directly quoted in this claim and the words are all Palmer's. The way it is written suggests that this was already a well-known story to which Richter adds first hand recollection. But when you get down to it, Richter's Tatra experience was fairly limited. He worked for the company in the early 1920s and then moved to Germany where he joined Opel. Most to Richter's recollections in the Palmer article refer to his time at Opel. Although I think Richter's memories about Tatra are somewhat coloured in their retelling, his recollections are interesting in and of themselves so I have published the whole section on his life here. Enjoy.
"This seems an appropriate place to break off and recount something of the interesting life of Albert Richter who has related to me so many fascinating stories about Tatra and the 'forgotten genius' Hans Ledwinka. Albert Richter was, in fact, born in Stuttgart but his family moved to that part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire which subsequently became Czechoslovakia. His father worked as forest master for an aristocratic family, a very good job in those days it would seem, judging by the photographs I was shown of his family and friends gathered round a huge table in a splendid dining room, the walls covered with the antlers of various deer. Albert Richter did not wish to follow in father's footsteps though, and studied engineering at Dresden after which, through his father's contacts he entered the Tatra works in 1924 to gain practical experience. During his time at Tatra he worked in most of the departments including experimental and racing. He even accompanied the team down to Sicily for the Targa Florio, but the biggest impression that this episode left on the young Richter was how hot it all was. He did, however, get to know Ledwinka, whom he found a genial personality, though capable of great stubbornness. Nonetheless it would appear that his workforce idolised him and would do almost anything for him.
After four years at Tatra, Albert Richter returned to university and in 1931 gained his Diploma of Engineering. Unfortunately for him this coincided with the general trade slump and he could find no manufacturers to take him on. So he opened a small workshop garage in Hultschin on the river Oder, to repair cars. He also had an agency for Puch, Braga, Ogar and Jawa motorcycles. Baron Rothschild had a castle nearby and Albert Richter would go to service his cars which included an lsotta Fraschini, a DeSoto, an air-cooled Franklin and various Delages and Rolls-Royces. Also catered for were the Tatras of the wealthy Austrian Count Wilczek who supplied coal to the Tatra factory. When these aristocrats held hunting parties he would often be left with the visitors cars to attend to.
However, the political situation in Czechoslovakia was becoming strained and Albert Richter, as a German, felt that life would become increasingly difficult for him there. He applied for various jobs in Germany and secured a post in 1936 at Opel's commercial vehicle factory at Brandenburg on the river Havel about 40 miles from Berlin. Unfortunately, through administrative error, he did not receive his letter of appointment and the first he knew about it was when he received a frantic telephone call asking him where he was, and to report to the factory immediately. Of course the Nazis were already firmly in control in Germany at this time and it was not deemed a good idea to point out that there had been a mistake. All Albert Richter could do was to board a train immediately, leaving instructions with friends to sell his business for him and over which, he relates, he suffered terrible financial loss.
He arrived at the Opel factory, which was one of the most modern in Europe at the time, as Chief lnspector of Quality Control. His boss at this time was Dr Heinz Nordoff who advised the British after the war to take over the VW factory. Richter remembers that before the war Robert Ley, head of the German labour front, arrived at the Opel factory with a prototype Volkswagen to show the workers. They were encouraged to buy one through a savings scheme whereby stamps to the value of five Reichmarks were purchased and stuck into a book. The purchase price was to be 990 (GBP99) Reichmarks. This was at a time when workers were already volunteering one Sunday each month to factory production 'for the Fatherland', and it is doubtful whether anyone ever received their 'People's Car' before the war intervened. This has led some cynics to think that the whole idea was cooked up to provide interest-free capital for the war effort, but it probably was quite genuine at the time.
Opel had, of course, been controlled by General Motors since the late Twenties and during the Thirties was Europe's biggest producer. During the war years, however, the factory was taken over and top military men were installed to ensure that all the heavy production targets were met on time. As well as various lorries, personnel carriers and armoured vehicles were made, often with four-wheel drive.
During the Russian campaign, the Military complained to Opel in the strongest possible terms that vehicles made by them were breaking down with gearbox and back-axle failures. Albert Richter was called upon to solve the problem - otherwise heads would roll, including, probably, his own. A crash programme was instituted which involved Richter in visiting Opel's Russelsheim factory, checking the entire manufacturing process, stripping down endless numbers of vehicles and checking all the machinery and tooling that made the components. Everything appeared perfectly in order. Logically, therefore, something must be wrong with either the steel content or its manufacturing process. So a visit was made to the steel suppliers Bochum Edelstahl Werke. AlI the steel was analysed, the foundry methods checked and nothing found to be wrong. Very perplexing indeed. The answer came to Albert Richter in a flash as he sat in an office high above the factory floor gazing down at all the activity below him and wondering how he would teil the German High Command that he could find no reason for the mysterious failures costing them the War. With typical German logic the various grades of steel were racked and colour codes painted on their ends. On one line German labourers were painting left to right but on another line immigrant labour from close to the Chinese border was painting the same racks from right to left. They were muddling up the colour codes and consequently the wrong grades of steel were being used.
Albert Richter's knowledge and personal experience driving and working on Tatras also caused him to be summoned to Command Headquarters in Berlin. A number of high-ranking officers occupying Czechoslovakia were using the Big Tatras for personal transport and at high speed, crosswinds or the uncertain swing-axle behaviour in cornering caused a number of them to come to grief. The army could not afford to lose its best men in this manner and they began to wonder whether the Tatra was the Czechs secret weapon against them. Richter argued that at modest speeds the Tatra was perfectly safe, indeed superior in many respects, to most vehicles then on the roads. High Command was not convinced, however, and the order went out that Tatras were verboten.
Captured
Towards the end of the war, Richter had gone to ltaly but was caught in the Dolomites, remaining in captivity in Rimini. In '46 he was moved to England and Launceston in Cornwall. Later he was moved to Bristol and Number 7 Bomb Disposal Squad of the Royal Engineers at Ashton Court camp, Long Ashton in a technical capacity. In 1952 he finally achieved civilian status, had already married a school teacher and worked for many years with Bristol Commercial vehicles. In 1961 he retired to a croft in a remote part of the Scottish Highlands and now lives quietly, alone, in a seaside resort in Lancashire."
Thoroughbred and Classic Car Magazine (UK), June 1983, in the article, "Forgotten Genius.", by Brian Palmer. "Brian Palmer talks to Albert K. Richter Dipl.-Ing about his idol, Hans Ledwinka, 'the forgotten engineering genius' and the incredible Tatra cars." https://tatrat600.blogspot.com/2022/02/the-origin-of-tatra-nazi-killing-myth.html