When I was a kid, our milkman crashed his float into the telegraph pole outside our house. That made quite a noise, as the canopy was pushed back onto the milk, and several crates fell off the back.
Mum and Dad went out and helped him in, let him use our phone to call the dairy, made him a cuppa while they came out with a replacement float, and a recovery vehicle. Before he left, he gave them a pint of double cream as a thank you - that was unheard-of luxury for us.
My sister and I watched from our bedroom window while they recovered the milk float. We lived in a cul-de-sac, and the muppets hitched the float up to a tow bar behind a Land Rover, and then tried to turn it round! Even then, I could see they'd be better to turn it first, and then hitch up...