This year, André Thuard is no longer a post chief! Getting ready to serve as a post marshal in his 53rd edition of the 24 Hours of Le Mans he asked that his deputy, Fabrice Leblanc, assume the responsibility moving forward. Thuard knows the post - which may as well be named after him given their shared history - is in good hands. He first manned the post located inside the circuit just before the Dunlop bridge in 1965 and never left it. He could have chosen one anywhere along the 13.629 km circuit, at the Tertre Rouge, Mulsanne or Arnage for example, but he never wanted to. He remained at his first and only post through thick and thin. Even after the famous turn was slowed with a chicane, he held on to his little slice of heaven. A source of fond memories and plenty of fun, he talks about it all with a great deal of pride

"Do you know why it's called Post 8? Because historically the posts were named in relation to the distance from the start. We are 800 meters from the starting line," explains André Thuard as if lecturing to fascinated students. "It is also the most elevated post at the circuit, 86.5 meters!" Post 8 is a sort of Everest he climbs every year. It's his breath of fresh air.

This Thursday morning of the free practice, he welcomes us into his bungalow and base camp. It takes stamina to do what he does and he's definitely up for it. Though he's no longer chief, he still presides over the post. Like every year for 53 years, he opens the post in the morning, makes sure everything is set up and waits for his colleagues.

"When everyone has arrived, I do roll call," he says as he describes the daily life of a post marshal. "After that, we conduct a briefing during which we determine the cycles. Who wants to go first and who wants to go last? I usually propose stints of two, three or four hours. I always point out that four hours, at night, especially in poor weather conditions, is quite long. Typically, they decide on three hours, which allows for six hours of downtime. There's one team at the post, a second in waiting and a third resting. In the past, there were more than 40 marshals at this post, but now there's only 18. We are grouped into three teams of six. We spend a lot of time together, and obviously it's better if we all get along!"

The "Thuard crew" has lost a few friends throughout the year, but has managed to stick together. "The organizer expects the team in-place to be very familiar with the area," explains this 24 Hours of Le Mans mainstay who first discovered the 24 Hours of Le Mans with his father in 1949. "We've become a family that is very happy to get together every year. Obviously the work has evolved. Before, when there was an incident, we called the Race Direction then quickly intervened. Now, we have to issue a warning and wait for the section to be declared a Slow Zone. That can take several minutes, and sometimes spectators don't understand why we don't immediately rush out onto the track." André doesn't like it when his men are underestimated or underappreciated. "Every so often, young people ask us how much we are paid," he says with a tinge of sadness that volunteering is becoming a dying art. "It's a philosophy of life we need to start teaching again!" A philosophy that shines through in his many and often touching anecdotes. Like the one about the motorsports and Le Mans legend before he passed away in 2008.

"I saw this man walking. The closer he came, the more I felt I recognized the silhouette. When he reached the post, I took off my hat and showed my respect. It was Paul Frère, winner at the 1960 24 Hours. I tried to greet him warmly and we spoke at length that day. Then he came back in following years, on Thursdays. I always offered him a seat so he could rest, a snack with rillettes and a cherry yogurt, his favorite. He was a great man." And a true Everest, just like André Thuard's "Post 8." 

PHOTO (Copyright - Bernard Larvol): André, second from the left, with the volunteers at Post 8.