50 years ago, I worked at a factory which repaired Service (mostly Army) Bedford lorries, and it was my job to book them (some very severely damaged) in. One arrived, with the radiator and engine pushed back into the cab, with a neat semi-circular hole where they used to be.
As usual, we asked the driver what happened, and this chap admitted that he’d been driving it, “We were driving under convoy lights only, and I was tail-end Charlie. Suddenly the light, in front, disappeared, so I put my foot down, to catch up. That was when I found out that the others had all gone round the roundabout, and there was this dirty great tree growing in the middle of it.”