As I mentioned earlier, the District Traffic Officer and I got on very well. He was married to a lovely Jewish lady; they actually met in Palestine but got married in England to circumvent the ban on his marrying a native. They had a delightful five-year-old daughter, who would remind me of Shirley Temple.

When Christmas 1947 approached I went to Haifa to pick up a present for this little charmer. I decided to take a motorcycle rather than the pickup, as it was clear I was Traffic on the bike, therefore safer than hidden in the pickup.

After looking around the toy shop I decided the toy that stood out a mile was a large doll dressed in pink and a large crib also in matching pink. The shop assistant wrapped it all in brown paper and I tied the lot on the back of the motorcycle and off I set for Nazareth. Within minutes the brown paper was in shreds and there was I exposed for all to see, a proud "Traffic" flying along with a pink crib tied to the back of the bike.

Bad as this was, on leaving Haifa I ran into a huge traffic jam. I took to the sidewalk to get by but had to slow considerably, much to the amusement of the onlookers. Things got worse as I approached the cause of the jam, a four-car pile up.

On seeing me approach and noting I was traffic they were all waving their hands in a very excited manner, no doubt wishing to tell their side of what happened, first. Much to their surprise I shouted that Haifa Traffic was on their way and picked up speed. I don't know when I was so embarrassed with everybody pointing at the 'attachment', but it was all worth while on seeing the joy it brought.