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This story has been written onto the ´óÏó´«Ã½ People's War site by CSV Storygatherer, Pam McCarthy, on behalf of Bernard Peters. They fully understand the terms and conditions of the site.

Sixty years ago we had traffic jams and many a ‘smack-up’. The main roads were not much more than good B roads (roads that we have today in our rural areas). Jeeps and command cars driven at high speeds around our narrow lanes by, as we termed them, the mad Yanks. Large steel GMCs, 3 tonners almost as wide as the roads, going hell for leather, driven by young men who had no knowledge of small farm lanes, hemmed in by high hedges. The black Americans seemed to throw caution to the winds, quite reckless and mad; the white GIs only a little better.

Bill Burley bought one of the defunct GMCs. It had a large steel butt, which we took off the chassis to de-rust. Hours and hours I spent with sandpaper and a wire brush getting down to the metal. Unfortunately, before a preserving coat could be applied the rain got at it and due to other pressing chores we had to leave it too long. I shall never forget having to go through the de-rusting process for a second time.

Time and time again the drivers got lost, signposts weren’t so smart as now. Coming up out of Falmouth, one GI driver looked at the sign for Mabe. ‘What do they mean?’ he said, ‘May Be ½ mile?’. Why don’t they make up their goddam minds!’

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