Can't resist prolonging this Pop column as my Dad in 1949 owned the posher Anglia. Waited two years for it in those days. I was in my seventeenth year and just passed the test so me an a couple of mates decided to borrow the car for a ride. Now my father was a bit of a stickler for looking after his car and if I put the petrol in, he took care of the rest, oil, water, etc. So we headed for the Moors and just outside Roborough, the car died! No oil! Luckily there was a Power petrol station there and had to fill the sump all the way so it must have run dry! To my amazement and good fortune, it started right away and never seemed to suffer any ill effects for the rest of its life and was sold on. Of course, I never told my Dad!
Brian.