Later on, Georges would retell the many stories about his father and mother driving around Paris. “Peasants would chase them with whips, chickens would get killed, which made the peasants very mad,” recalled Georges. “One day Father was driving around Paris with Mother and her car got stuck. Well, they thought that they would be lynched, but somehow they finally convinced people and they saved themselves from a complete lynching. In other words, one could say that cars were not at all welcome. They are noisy, dangerous, and even horses didn’t like the cars. However, as more cars were made, as we know, all of that has changed.”
TWO
THE STUDENT
(1899–1920)
GEORGES FREDERIC DORIOT WAS born in the Peugeot house in Paris. The birth announcement sent out by Auguste and Camille could not have been more cute or clever. It pictured a cherubic baby boy enthroned in the open cab of the newest mechanical marvel to astound mankind: the horseless carriage. The car was a Peugeot, of course, a twoseater with a rear engine and penny farthing wheels. Attached to the front of the car was a sign saying “No. 1”. The bare-bottomed boy—one arm placed firmly on the steering column, the other raised in a buoyant wave—smiles while driving the car. The card read: “Mr. and Mrs. Doriot are happy to announce the birth of their son Georges.” A wind-whipped banner hitched to the back of the car proclaimed details of the joyous occasion: “Arrivée Paris, 24 September 1899 at 3:45 pm.”
Congratulatory letters began arriving. Marianne Peugeot, one of Armand’s three daughters, sent Camille a note with a playful picture of a baby enwrapped in a cabbage patch. “I am delighted that you finally have a good cabbage in your garden that has produced a little boy,” wrote Marianne. “I rejoice at seeing his eyes shrouded under the fat of his cheeks. Goodbye dear Madame. I send coos to you, as well as to your little baby.” Two of Marianne’s children also sent Camille congratulatory notes. “I hope your hens can manage now that there is a new mouth to eat their plentiful eggs,” wrote her ten-year-old daughter Germaine. “I’m so happy you have a little boy!” rejoiced Madeleine, Marianne’s twelve-year-old daughter. “Be careful when he starts eating donuts!”
In October, a Peugeot customer and friend of Auguste sent the new father a letter in which he pointed to his son’s promising future:
My dear Doriot,
I was enchanted to receive the little car #1, from the race of 1899, steered by the worthy representative of a very brave father and of Mrs. Doriot, who although I do not know very well, has made an impression that can be assured by his good nature, a life of happiness. When little George[s] is 20 years old, what will be the amazing speed, what will be the car that will victoriously win in the Tour de France? I hope that Mrs. Doriot and little George[s] are in the best health.
By all accounts, Georges lived a charmed life during his childhood. Indeed, the young Doriot was lucky to be born into such a comfortable and loving household. At the time of Georges’s birth, Auguste was thirty-five years old, the right-hand man of one of France’s most prosperous industrialists. A picture taken in July 1900, when Georges was almost a year old, shows signs of that good fortune: a smiling baby boy ensconced in a poufy white dress and large bonnet while perched on a small, ornate wooden high chair.
From his father, Georges inherited a sturdy Protestant work ethic, a fascination with technology and the future, and a confident yet humble personality that was at ease both with plutocrats and peasants. From his mother, Georges was bequeathed the gift of Gallic volubility, a sense of compassion, and a firm grasp of the importance of education.
Then, on August 15, 1902, Auguste made a decision that must have thrown the Doriot clan into a state of turmoil: he resigned from Peugeot. Walking away from the company where he had worked his whole professional life of twelve years, where he had made his name, must have been excruciatingly difficult. The specific reason for Auguste’s departure from Peugeot was not clear at first. This much we do know: according to his family, he went to work for another car company in Paris for a few years. However, he left the Peugeot Company—and Armand—on good terms. In fact, Armand wrote him a glowing letter of reference when he left the company: “For the many years I have known him as a collaborator, I’ve had the occasion to appreciate his intelligence and devotion to the work given to him. I consider him a man you can trust and an excellent mechanical engineer. He has exceptional technical aptitude and knows by heart the fabrication of automobiles and the explosion engine.”
Armand had ample reason to praise Auguste. When Doriot left Peugeot, the company had established a leading, if not the top, position in the budding French car industry. In 1902, the year Auguste left, Peugeot introduced another line of cars that transcended the company’s heritage of the horseless carriage. The innovations that were rolled out that year included electric ignition, steering wheels (which replaced the tiller), pressed steel frames, honeycomb radiators, and engines covered with bonnets, or hoods.
Even though the Doriots had moved to Paris, they did not forget their roots. After all, the Doubs district was still home to most of the Doriot clan. Often, young Georges journeyed back to Valentigney for family vacations. These were carefree days filled with warm memories of the fading pastoral life. He spent most of his time with his cousins, mostly girls, because they had more free time. They were older and were all very sweet to him. Some of Auguste’s brothers moved away from the village but his sisters married and stayed there. Georges had a particular affection for his aunts, especially Tante Lucy and Tante Juliette. Tante Lucy’s husband was the local captain, a sort of leader of the working people, who was a portly yet industrious man.
“In the summer,” recalled Georges, “men requested permission to be able to start work at four or five o’ clock in the morning so that they could spend the afternoon taking care of their fields and gardens. Then, at night we would all sit quietly together, talk peacefully, and be grateful for what we had.”
One of the most pleasant memories of Georges’s life was the time he spent at the Fraternelle, a cooperative store owned by the Peugeot Company. Every morning, a member of the family would take one of their pushcarts and visit the Fraternelle to shop. “When you got within a few hundreds yards there was a wonderful smell of freshly baked bread, coffee, and many other things,” recalled Georges. “Everyone knew each other and everyone was very kind and helpful to each other. Whenever anyone was in need, there would be always some neighbor to come and help.” During these early years, in the fields and gardens and factories of France, Georges learned the values of mutual aid and cooperation, values that helped him unite people in constructive action as a professor, military leader, and venture capitalist.
Although Auguste worked for another car company for a short time, he was preoccupied by other dreams. In 1906, the true reason he left Peugeot became clear: he wanted to design and manufacture his own cars. In today’s world of “serial entrepreneurship,” where failure is considered honorable, practically a required rest stop on the path to success, the boldness of this decision is hard to appreciate. In Europe, during the first half of the twentieth century, business failure was looked upon as a personal and professional calamity that one could never recover from. “In those days bankruptcy was a catastrophic event,” says James F. Morgan, a former executive of American Research and Development who studied the history of European business. “In several European countries you were deprived of your right to vote and own property. It was a real black mark on your character and your family.”
To create his own automobile manufacturing company, Auguste would be taking an enormous risk. Failure would ruin his reputation, his finances, and his family. But Auguste took the chance anyway, betting on his impressive track record and knowledge of a burgeoning industry. This was not a solo ride, however. Auguste teamed up with a