Der Feuersignal! Raus, schnell!

I woke up this morning to find that the loud siren noise was not to warn of incoming torpedoes on the German submarine that I dreamt I was on last night for some reason, but the hall fire alarm. (Read it again and you'll get it.) I think it's quieter than last year, and I was dimly aware that my siren seems to go off a second later than the one outside the door, meaning I'll get a bit of warning whenever I'm about to get blasted with noise. It was rather pouring with rain, but I was better off than some first years who didn't yet know that there was enough time to get dressed between hearing the alarm and going outside.

Steve the Yorkstone, keeping up with his aim of being better than Kenny, didn't stand at the front and mumble but instead bounded up the mound and happily bellowed "Good morning!" like an overly vivacious game show host. (The shout-back of "Oh no it isn't!" came to me, alas, too late.) The amount of time we were standing outside was a bit long for a drill because some people had forgotten their room numbers. How do you forget that? You have to find your way back there every time you come in to the hall, so why don't people know theirs? It is a bit of a mystery.

So the whole process was slightly miserable, but at least it's over with. Yorkie (as I probably won't call him in future) even recognised me as I was walking inside and asked me what I thought of how he had handled it. He seems rather friendly - maybe he's heard what happened with the wardens and myself last year.