1940 Chevy Pickup
Here’s a fighter… the manin the cab of the truck. A fighter. On wheels. Through clismal days and storm tossed nights he keeps his cargo rolling, whether it’s two tons or rwenty.
He’s at it from dawn to dark and back again. More miles. More hours. More tonnager. More work than ever before. Proving, day after day on the highway, that a truck line is the shortest distance between two points!
He speeds food to market.. he rushes vital war material from mine to mill, from sub-contractor to
assembler, from factory to ordnance depot.
More than fifty thousand American communities would be stranded with-our the man in the cab of the truck. They would have no other way to get their goods out, no way to get goods in.
The truck he drives is two years old, atleast. More likely it’s six. But he carries on, in spite of
shortages-of trucks, of repair parts, of gasoline, of tires, of manpower-shortages of nearly everything he needs in his business except the will to win. He drives a weapon. For his business is the same as the business of the man in uniform… it is the business of Victory.
A good share of the trucks which keep America’s highways alive with the essential traffic of war are
Internationals. Performance made them the Largest-selling heavy-duty trucks on the market. And the same toughness, the same dependability, the same economy of operation that put tham in the lead in the days of peace keeps them there in these days of war.