The men seemed to have vanished into the night: there were their footprints, a melee outside the hut door, then a shuffling line to the left, close to the exterior of the wall, suddenly veering off at an oblique angle, but after just three or four steps, the prints clear under the floodlights, nothing, virgin snow! and that was what Lieutenant Nigel Oxford, the Lieutenant at Arms and Warrant Officer Graham Cambridge, Master at Arms, together being responsible for security and the orderly running of the Base, examined while most of the crew - and the five authorised visitors - watched from outside the cordon: "what's your name?" asked Cambridge, "Phineas MacPhee," said the man addressed and he watched as the Master at Arms wrote Finneas McFee, then objected: "na, na, mon, it's a P an a h baith times, an a a atween the M an c," and waited patiently while the Englishman laboriously corrected his original spelling, and then re-corrected it, saying: "and what's your name?" to the other witness and resident in the hut, "Freddie McFadden," he replied, twa Fs, watched closely as Cambridge wrote Ffreddy MacPhadden, and pointed out the heterography, going so far as to spell out his Christian name and then his surname so that they would be written correctly in whatever report the cops produced, before asking: "div ye think ye'll manage tae nick thum agen - an keep thum nicked?" which brought a scowl in reply, and he was pleased that the Warrant Officer was so easy to assail and needle with such innocuous sounding barbs.