Tactical Compass Reset
I climbed up the umbrella stand frame and pulled myself onto the surface of the entryway console table. In the center of a small ceramic coin dish lay an old metal pocket compass with a brass hinge. The glass lens had a fine layer of dust over the markings. I set my boots against the dish rim and braced both hands against the casing, pushing the lid open until it locked back. The needle spun twice, jittery against the dial, before finally settling true north toward the front door. Having a calibrated heading makes nighttime maneuvers much cleaner. I left the casing propped open for rapid checks.

