Triumphant rescue

sir – I owned a Triumph Herald convertible (Letters, January 12) in the 1960s and it was the envy of the villagers, including the local shop owner who was always begging me to take him for a ride in it. “One day, one day, Mr Smith,” I said.

Some months later I visited the shop, only to find his wife in shock and despair because he had cut his hand severely on the bacon slicer. “Get in,” I said to him, indicating my Triumph outside. “I’ll take you for your ride.”

I drove at top speed to the casualty department at the local hospital, while pressuring his wound with one hand.

He never asked me for a ride again. Joan Gurney

Colchester, Essex

sir – My first car, in 1965, was a 1958 Ford Anglia 100E. It never seemed to go at more than 55 mph, but had one unnerving characteristic.

The windscreen wipers were powered by vacuum from the engine, which diminished as more power was applied. This meant that the harder the engine worked, the slower the wipers went. Driving uphill, against the wind, in the rain, they tended to stop completely.

Mike Westmorland

Penrith , Cumbria

sir – When I bought my first car (a 1200 Beetle) the salesman told me it had a heater that would boil an egg.

Soon after, I undertook a long journey from Yorkshire to see David Bowie at the Empire Pool. The car didn’t have a fitted radio so I took a transistor radio, which had a plastic case, and put it in the passenger footwell, close to the heater vent.

Sure enough, after 250 miles with the heater on, the radio had formed a gooey plastic mess on the mat.

Tony Tudor

Southport, Lancashire