Strap Adjustment

Slid past the front door threshold onto the cold stone of the porch. The damp night air cleared the indoor dust immediately. Tucked low behind a heavy iron boot scraper, I took five minutes off sentry duty to service my kit. The chest rig harness had worked slack during the midday climb. Wedging the rim of an old copper two-pence piece against the buckle slider, I pulled the strap tight until the nylon bit down solid. Zero rattle. Gear seated properly. I rested my back against the brickwork and let the joints cool.