My father told me a story a long time ago...He was born in 1906 and was too young for WW I, but some years after the Great War had somehow gotten hold of two Spandau machine guns...The story was about driving around with them on the floor of the back seat of his car (whatever that was) with a blanket thrown over them...There was a punch line, but I've forgotten it long ago...This would all have been before the Sullivan Act...
Simpler times...
