Jazz for Sergo: The Story of the Forgotten Giant Buses YA-2

There were only two of these buses. To tell their story, we found unpublished materials in the archives of Yaroslavl and St. Petersburg! Our story includes the giant buses of the 1930s, People’s Commissar Sergo Ordzhonikidze, who killed the project with a single phrase, and even my namesake, the blacksmith Lapshin.

Ninety years ago, on January 26, 1934, a gigantic three-axle bus left Yaroslavl for Moscow to attend the Party congress, with inscriptions on the sides: “Yaroslavl Automobile Factory No. 3, Bus named after the XVII Party Congress.” By the way, this congress was also commemorated by the three-axle LK-3 trolleybus (LK – Lazar Kaganovich) made in Moscow. It was three meters longer than regular models, carrying 80 passengers, but somehow got lost in the history of Soviet transport. But the Yaroslavl giants…

On February 9 of the same year, the newspaper Za Rulem (there was such a newspaper) published an article titled “Radio Jazz in the Bus.” “The driver took off the telephone receiver, which replaced the traditional rope connecting the conductor and the driver in buses and trams. <…> A small radio receiver in the front of the bus began picking up foreign stations. We listened to jazz from Berlin and Paris… The 100-seat YAGAZ, in terms of seating capacity and payload, replaced 2.5 regular YAGAZ buses, three Amov buses, and four Ford buses.”

The factory newspaper Avtomobilist described the interior in more detail: “54 soft seats upholstered in black leather resembling velvet, large mirrored windows with curtains, a ceiling with yellow leatherette upholstery, two mirrors, soft matte lighting, and precise clocks. The smooth ride eliminates unpleasant jolts. There is no crowding, as is common in trams. Added to this are two loudspeakers, a powerful radio system that picks up distant foreign stations, and the absence of tram bells, as communication between the conductor and the driver is via telephone.”

This was not just a bus; it was the Titanic! Or like the joke about an airliner: “Now, dear passengers, with all of this on board, we will attempt to take off…” But the project never flew further than two prototypes. Here’s why.

For me, it all began with a guidebook on St. Petersburg, which I bought about twenty years ago just for a page that mentioned the giant bus. Until then, I had known nothing about it!

Frequent readers will likely recall the story about the double-decker trolleybuses that I prepared with designer Mikhail Chemeris in the Yaroslavl Motor Plant archives, YAMZ (formerly the automobile plant YAAZ, and earlier, the state automobile plant YAGAZ). But YAMZ still holds many more stories…

The late 1920s in the USSR were poor and difficult. Our automotive industry had not yet produced city buses, so they had to be purchased abroad—either entirely (first and foremost, 175 British Leylands for Moscow), or, to save money, only the chassis, onto which local workshops built bodies (such as the VOMAG, Mannesmann-MULAG, and SPA buses with bodies from the Leningrad Auto Repair Plant). Domestic buses based on the AMO-4 chassis from Moscow and the YA-6 from Yaroslavl were finally beginning to appear. However, a YAMZ archive article says: “The YA-6 used a number of imported components: a 93-horsepower Hercules engine, transmission, clutch, vacuum brake booster, and steering mechanism. All these parts were purchased in the USA.” Furthermore, “the factory lacked the facilities, equipment, and specialists to produce the labor-intensive bus body.”

As a result, bus fleets still received imported (except for the frame and axles) chassis, onto which “summer hut” bodies made of wood and metal were installed by local shops. But even these buses were better than the Leylands: they were more spacious, more powerful, capable of reaching 50 km/h instead of the earlier 35 km/h, and were equipped with the new feature of the time—an electric starter. Even the high floor level, due to the straight, non-curved cargo frame, turned out to be an advantage, since the YA-6, with its 30 cm ground clearance, had fewer chances of getting stuck on poor roads.

These YA-6 chassis were produced by YAGAZ from 1929 to 1932: 364 sets were made, a third of which, according to our calculations, went to Leningrad. However, production had to be stopped due to the lack of suitable engines: the imported Hercules engines were needed for new three-axle YAG-10 trucks, and the engines from AMO-3 and, later, ZIS-5 lacked the necessary power.

However, in the same 1932, Leningrad decided to order an unprecedented chassis from Yaroslavl—a super-long three-axle one! Similar “crocodiles” were popular in Germany at the time—built by Büssing, Henschel, Krupp, MAN, Mercedes, NAG, and VOMAG, with both 6×2 and 6×4 wheel configurations (for example, the Mercedes N56). There was even a three-axle, double-decker Büssing-NAG in Berlin.

Before we begin the story of the Yaroslavl development, two digressions are in order. Although the press at the time stated that “the vehicle was designed and constructed by the engineers of the Yaroslavl Automobile Plant,” in reality, it was handled by the Moscow-based NATI institute, whose chronology states: “The work was carried out by A. Lipgart, E. Knopf, P. Bromley, B. Gold, and P. Tarasenko.” Moreover, in many sources (including three books on the history of the factory!), the vehicle in question is referred to as the YA-1, because it was the first in sequence. This is an error: both the chassis and the buses themselves were originally called YA-2.

October 1932, Za Rulem magazine: “On September 26, 1932, the tests of the first prototype of the new three-axle YA-2 bus chassis were completed at the Yaroslavl Automobile Factory No. 3 <…> for Lenkotrans, which is building the body for the bus in its own workshops <…> Lenkotrans has taken on the financing of the chassis and body construction.”

October 2, Pravda newspaper: “The new YA-2 bus was released five days ahead of schedule. The machine successfully withstood a nine-ton load test, quickly gained maximum speed, and handled inclines. The top speed was 47.5 km/h. <…> The bus has been handed over to Lenkotrans and will depart for Leningrad tomorrow morning at 9 a.m.”

On the same day, Leningrad Pravda reprinted the article, adding: “The engineers of the Yaroslavl plant are planning the design of an 8-wheeled, double-decker bus with 100 seats.” This idea was likely inspired by the creation of the 8×8 YAG-12 truck. But a four-axle bus was something else!

October 4, Leningrad Pravda (LP): “The vehicle was supposed to be sent by train, but due to its large size, it couldn’t fit on the platform. The bus will travel about 700 kilometers…” Remember, this wasn’t yet a completed bus but just a chassis with a primitive cab. Imagine driving it on those roads and at that speed?

October 8, LP: “The giant bus arrived in Leningrad under its own power. The entire journey, almost 1000 km, was completed in four days, excluding stops. The average speed was 40 km/h. Currently, a steel body is being constructed at the auto repair plant…”

October 26, LP: “The body is already assembled, and interior finishing is underway: parquet flooring, leather upholstery on the ceiling, walls, and seats, etc. A team of six conductors and three drivers has been assigned to serve the bus. Two conductors will work on the bus at the same time.”

November 3, LP: “The giant bus is ready. It is designed for 52 seated passengers and 30–40 standing passengers. The ceiling features a relief star with a circular inscription ‘For the 15th Anniversary of October’.”

November 5, LP: “Despite a number of difficulties—lack of materials and drawings—the team at the Lenkotrans auto repair plant finished outfitting the bus in 32 days instead of 2.5 months. In October, the bus will complete a 50-kilometer test run to one of the Leningrad suburbs. The bus was released under number 135.” Parquet flooring, leather upholstery, and a “rush job” without blueprints!

November 10, Leningrad Pravda reported the launch of route No. 9 from Uritsky Square to Red Square, formerly the Alexander Nevsky Lavra (Leningrad had its own Red Square back then!), to be served by four, and later five buses, including the “100-seat giant No. 135.” The interval was 8-8.5 minutes, and the fare for the entire route was 45 kopecks.

The construction of that vehicle was described in great detail in contemporary automotive magazines—Za Rulem No. 20, 1932, and Motor No. 5, 1933. So, the basis was the three-axle YAG-10 truck with an American powertrain (quoting Za Rulem), “because the Yaroslavl factory still didn’t have a domestic supplier of sufficiently powerful engines, nor the equipment to produce these engines.” The Hercules UHS-3 gasoline engine developed 103 hp from a 7.85-liter displacement (its cylinders were bored out compared to the basic 93-hp version). The transmission was a four-speed Brown-Lipe 554 (which Za Rulem inaccurately referred to as “Brain-Lipe”).

Everything else was made in Yaroslavl from domestic materials. The front axle, radiator, hood, front shield, and other parts were taken from the Y-5 truck, the rear bogie from the YAG-10, the steering mechanism of Ross’s design, which the factory had finally mastered (unlike the previous ones, it didn’t require significant physical force), although it wasn’t equipped with power steering.

The almost 12-meter-long frame was a testament to the saying “Necessity is the mother of invention.” Back then, abroad, such long longitudinals were welded from sections stamped on huge presses. But since the YAAZ didn’t have the necessary presses, each longitudinal had to be welded from 18 pieces made separately from “channels, angles, and strip iron”! Naturally, such a frame weighed over a ton—1200 kg. To lower the floor level, its central part was lowered, with “bends” above the front and rear axles. However, this solution had a drawback: the transmission with five driveshafts (imagine how that looked?) was located above the floor level. Therefore, in the middle, above the driveshafts and differentials, two-seat benches were placed on a platform, with aisles on either side. And this giant bus… had no heating.

The working brakes were more than a compromise—pneumatic, with drive to the rear wheels. Since the vacuum booster only worked with the engine running, when the engine stalled (for example, on an incline), the booster would stop functioning, and the pressure on the brake pedal would increase more than threefold: the driver simply couldn’t press it down! The only hope was the handbrake. Motor magazine wrote: “Although rare, such a case was possible, and it would require great skill and resourcefulness from the driver…”

In the future, the giant buses were to be equipped with the “Westinghouse brake system,” which lacked this issue. Additionally, the transmission was expected to be improved by “lowering and tilting the engine and flipping the rear axles,” while “moving the steering wheel forward would increase the number of seats and improve visibility for the driver.” As for the enormous 11.45-meter length, the factory engineers considered the “maneuverability” “sufficient for urban driving.” During testing, the chassis was able to turn around on a 17-meter-wide street.

The performance was expected to improve further by installing other imported engines—Lancia and, primarily, the Continental 22R, as reported in detail by Motor magazine. Apparently, this, along with the lack of technical articles about the second bus prototype (which will become clear later), led to widespread misinformation about the second giant bus being equipped with a Continental engine. But let’s continue our exploration of the archive materials!

Inspired by the first prototype, the Yaroslavl engineers decided to build an identical giant bus specifically for the XVII Party Congress of the All-Union Communist Party—this time, entirely on their own, though, as it turns out, still practically “cobbled together.”

On January 28, 1934, Avtomobilist, the Yaroslavl newspaper, reported: “The Bolshevik collective of the factory presented the Party Congress with a 100-seat giant bus. The work was completed modestly. On the evening of January 23, 1934, the bus was finished. Exactly one month later (probably a mistake, it should read “one month earlier”—Editor F.L.), work began on the body frame, following the template of an 80-seat bus from Leningrad. <…> In the small garage of the training and production plant, work was in full swing. And on December 31, 1933, a day ahead of schedule (forget New Year’s Eve—let’s give the Party Congress its gift!—Editor F.L.), the body frame was ready. Before the carpenters had finished their work, the tinworkers immediately began covering the frame with thin sheet metal. (The best among the 11 carpenters and nine tinworkers are listed by name.—Editor F.L.). After the tinworkers, upholsterers, blacksmiths, locksmiths, electricians, and painters went to work. Among the blacksmiths, Lapshin and others worked well. <…> The drawings were developed under the direct supervision of designer Kokin. The bus was equipped with a Hercules engine.”

Here’s the moment of truth: the engine was exactly the same as the one in the first prototype! One might assume that, when creating this model, they studied the similarly long but two-axle Mack BK bus, which was bought by the NATI institute and, since 1933, had been transporting employees around Moscow. At the very least, the YA-2 received a similar route indicator above the windshield with colored lights on the sides. To impress the government officials, the interior was filled with everything they could get their hands on.

Now for the most interesting part. Contemporary journalists, quoting books on the factory’s history, state that at the Party Congress, where the YA-2 was shown, Voroshilov commented on the size, Ordzhonikidze remarked on the cost, and suggested sending the bus to Leningrad.

However, I managed to find the original transcript of that conversation, typed up in the factory archive! I present it here in full, with its original spelling and punctuation.

January 30, 1934. In the Kremlin, delegates of the XVII Party Congress, members of the VKP(b) Central Committee, and government officials gathered. During the inspection, the following conversation took place.

Comrade Voroshilov K. E.: “The machine is good, but it’s too big.”

Comrade Yelenin V. A.: “I reported to Commissar Ordzhonikidze, presenting Comrade Grigoryev A. A., the senior craftsman who built the bus, Comrade Gogolev as the driver, and Blednov from the factory’s technical control.”

Comrade Ordzhonikidze G. K.: “How much does this machine cost?”

Comrade Yelenin V. A.: “There is no full calculation yet, but approximately around 100,000 rubles” (the YAG-10 truck cost 22,000 rubles—Editor F.L.).

Comrade Ordzhonikidze G. K.: “I don’t want any more of these experiments, Yelenin. Look at what kind of bear you’ve brought here, all the delegates left the congress to look at your bus.”

Comrade Yelenin V. A.: “Yes, Comrade Commissar, no more of these machines will be made. This one will be sent to…” (the sentence is unfinished—Editor F.L.).

Comrade Ordzhonikidze G. K.: “Send this machine to Leningrad, let the people there take a ride on it.”

Comrade Yelenin V. A.: “Understood, we’ll send it to Leningrad.”

Comrade Ordzhonikidze G. K.: “Comrades delegates, please head back to the Party Congress. Comrade Yelenin, you will immediately escort this machine out of the Kremlin and send it to Leningrad straight from Moscow.”

Comrade Serebryakovski (a misspelling, it should be Serebrovsky—Editor F.L.)—People’s Commissar of non-ferrous metals and gold—approached Yelenin and asked, “Will you sell this machine to me?”

Comrade Yelenin: “Why do you need one?”

Comrade Serebryakovski: “I have better roads in Aldan than in Moscow.”

In these dialogues, we can hear the commanding, familiar tone of the time, but do you understand what was most important? Ordzhonikidze, in a fit of anger, ordered Yelenin to never make such “bears” again, and Yelenin immediately saluted in compliance. Try to disobey, and you’d lose your head! So, the bus was quickly and quietly sent to Leningrad, as the Commissar had ordered.

On April 1, 1934, Leningrad Pravda briefly reported: “The new giant bus #260 will operate on route #9-bis—Lev Tolstoy Square—Moscow Railway Station. This route will be served by two 100-seat buses.”

They became an unofficial symbol of Leningrad’s transport system: in the same year, the YA-2 was depicted on the cover of the bus fleet’s internal magazine and in a children’s book, How the Car Learned to Walk. A photograph of the first bus was even printed in the city guide. Incidentally, it stated that the number of buses in Leningrad had reached 1,000, although in reality, there were only 304 units.

On October 17, Leningrad Pravda reported: “For the holidays, after repairs, two 100-seat giant buses will return to service.” After repairs, even though the second bus hadn’t even been in service for a year!

Meanwhile, a similar bus was being built at GAZ: on November 24, Za Rulem reported that the “first streamlined three-axle bus” was nearing completion and that such buses would be produced in series the following year. But it didn’t work out.

In 1935, the Complete Leningrad Guide wrote that “100-seat vehicles serve the bus theater route” from the famous Mariinsky Theater to Moscow Railway Station, with eight stops: the fare was one ruble.

At the same time, NATI began developing a new city bus project for YAGAZ, replacing the disfavored giant, called the YA-80-30—still a long-nose, but shorter, two-axle, and more streamlined. Its prototype was the American GMC Z-250 Yellow Coach, also purchased by the institute. However, the project didn’t go beyond sketches: in 1936, the institute was ordered to halt this project and, instead, by May 1, 1937, develop, in collaboration with YAGAZ, a bus with a rear engine, similar to the American White, which was also a prototype from NATI.

But then, the terrible year of 1937 arrived. Commissar Ordzhonikidze shot himself. The decorated director of YAGAZ, Vasily Yelenin, along with the chief designer Litvinov (they had written the Za Rulem article about the YA-2), the chief engineer, chief mechanic, and other leading specialists were arrested, accused of sabotage and espionage, and shot the following year. After Yelenin’s arrest, the Yaroslavl factory changed directors five times in six months…

The XVII Party Congress is infamously known as the “Congress of the Shot Delegates”: more than half of its members were repressed, with 70% of the Central Committee and candidates executed, including Commissar Serebrovsky, who had asked Yelenin for a bus to Yakutia.

And the 1937 city guide happily reported: “Leningrad now has 500 buses (exact number—554.—Editor F.L.). There are elegant machines, streamlined, with silk curtains. Two 100-seat buses, serving long suburban routes, are a special attraction of Leningrad’s bus fleet.”

Indeed, in Leningrad, there were both streamlined buses and those with curtains: as early as summer 1935, the First Bus Depot built a bus on the YA-6 chassis with an unusual body, curtains, and even, as claimed, a phonograph inside. In 1936, the Auto Repair Plant of the Leningrad City Transport Authority (ATUL)—the very same plant that built the body for the first giant—produced the first ten 32-seat buses on ZIS chassis, but with a third axle and a streamlined body. The interior, with an oval rear window, a sofa along the wall, and a mirror, was very similar to that of the YA-2: the experience didn’t go to waste! These buses had different designations—such as ZIS-8L and AL-2.

And the giants indeed operated on suburban routes: late photographs of both buses show signs for the route “Leningrad—Agalatovo” (a village 40 km from the city). The route indicators above the windshields, or “headboards,” were repeatedly modified, and the buses’ appearance slightly changed: the loose bodies were repaired, repainted, and the glass was replaced, etc. By the end of their service, the second bus had lost its beautiful “YAGAZ” inscription and the hood star—most likely torn off and stolen.

The Yaroslavl factory did not produce any more buses, except for a single example in 1938, built on the basis of the failed YAG-7 truck with a fully metallic cab for transporting personnel.

When the giant buses were retired is unknown. There are rumors they were used during the evacuation of civilians from Pushkin in 1941 and didn’t survive the bombing. According to one veteran motorist’s recollections, a bus similar to the Yaroslavl model stood at the Kubinka tank training ground after the war, was fitted with a tank engine, and carried personnel to Moscow at 100 km/h. But I suspect this was a German war trophy…

Most likely, the Yaroslavl giants were abandoned by the late 1930s: semi-handmade construction, combined with low reliability and a lack of imported spare parts, made their existence unsustainable. Furthermore, before the Great Patriotic War, not a single bus on the regular YA-6 chassis had worked in Leningrad, as seen from the bus fleet’s lineup in March 1941. It listed 248 units (much fewer than at the end of the 1930s, as part of the fleet had been sent to the Soviet-Finnish war): 111 ZIS-16, 106 ZIS-8, and 31 three-axle ATUL buses. By April of that same year, 255 units were in service: 115 ZIS-16, 107 ZIS-8, and 33 ATUL. Not a single Yaroslavl machine!

After the war, if there were any mentions of the giant buses in the USSR, they were relegated to the realm of “a grandmother said.” In a collection I acquired from a bookseller, Urban Transport (1957), published in Leningrad, there’s no mention of the Yaroslavl long-noses. In the 1969 Moscow directory with the same title, there’s complete disinformation: “In 1932, the Yaroslavl Automobile Plant built a three-axle YA-4 bus on the chassis of the YAG-3 truck with a capacity of 32 passengers.” Everything was confused: the capacity and the model numbers (and the YA-4 was a small-series cargo truck with a Mercedes engine).

What can we say when, in 1966, Factory Life magazine of YAMZ published an article stating that the giant existed in a single copy and was sent from Moscow to Leningrad because it “didn’t fit,” “couldn’t turn,” and “was in the way of other transport”? Should we trust the author’s claim that the bus carried foreign tourists and that in 1934, he saw the word “Intourist” on its side?

Even the recollections of talented art critic and writer Mikhail Herman, which mention pre-war Leningrad transport, seem to be based on eyewitness accounts: Herman himself was only born in 1933.

“The buses were fewer but more diverse than trams. <…> The oldest were the carriages from the Yaroslavl factory, which I never saw, but I remember well the almost equally tiny (five windows) GAZ buses: shaky, very small, cramming only about 20 people. The ZIS buses of 1934 were similar. The more impressive ones were semi-handmade but longer, roomier, and more modern, like the AL-2 buses. There was also the legendary 100-seat YA-2 bus with an American engine, everyone talked about it (radio, clocks, mirrors, two conductors!), but few people saw it, and it existed in only a handful of copies.”

As for the remaining three-axle buses of that time, one of them is preserved in the “Road of Life” museum near St. Petersburg—it’s even been nicely restored, although only a little remains of the original.

And in the Mercedes-Benz Museum in Stuttgart stands the long-nose beauty Mercedes O 10000, released in 1938. It worked as a mobile post office until the 1970s and even has built-in telephone booths! But that’s a story for another time.

Photo: from the archives of YaMZ and Bus Depot No. 1 of St. Petersburg. Graphics by Mikhail Chemeris | Fedor Lapshin

This is a translation. You can read the original article here: Джаз для Серго: рассказываем историю забытых автобусов-длинномеров ЯА-2