I had a very involved and disturbing dream last night. Long one too.
I was a student at a Marine Corps Specialty school training for something. As the brother, nephew, and grandson of Marines I know that a Marine is first and foremost a Rifleman. As such the school involved excercises using paint tipped cartridges (just like real bullets, but instead of lead, they have paint capsules). These are non-lethal rounds that just sting like a Mutha!
So after handling some repairs the night before, I was in the middle of class when an excercise began. All of the other classes were the attackers and our class was to hold the building. We were all just wearing whatever uniforms we had on, and eye gear, and the M-16's and the llike were handed out with "ammo" just as they had been countless times before.
The attack began and a massive firefight erupted. I had a position that afforded me good cover and I proceded to tag our oppponents. Being a good shot, I was concerning myself with center of the chest shots that in a real battle would render an enemy neutral or dead. Instructors and student's were yelling, and all around me friends and foes dropped very realistically. Too realistically.
I had stopped firing and heard the instructors calling an emergency cease fire. It was then that I noticed that they weren't acting. My classmates, and the upperclassemen, had cut each other to pieces. I checked my magazine, and several others, to find that we were using live ammunition! The horror of what just happened sank in and I dove to the aid of my comrades in arms.
It was later found that a terrorist had infiltrated the Corps and replaced the scrimage rounds with the real stuff. The Commanding Officer had come to see me and asked how I was doing. I told him i was just trying to process it all. I was always the one who took things more seriously than the others, and the vast majority of the four dozen students killed were killed by rounds from my rifle since I was aiming for maximum efficiency and the others were having fun with the accuracy-by-volume approach. I had killed 37 of my friends in a matter of minutes while coming away unscathed.
This dream haunted me the whole day. I wonder if it's possible to get PTSD from a dream. After the firefight I found that the words I was speaking were my actual words. I had slipped into lucid dreaming. I wonder if it was that way the whole time. Not a cool way to start the day.
Why can't I get into lucid dreaming with Monica Bellucci?
In a world gone haywire...
Be Safe everyone.
I was a student at a Marine Corps Specialty school training for something. As the brother, nephew, and grandson of Marines I know that a Marine is first and foremost a Rifleman. As such the school involved excercises using paint tipped cartridges (just like real bullets, but instead of lead, they have paint capsules). These are non-lethal rounds that just sting like a Mutha!
So after handling some repairs the night before, I was in the middle of class when an excercise began. All of the other classes were the attackers and our class was to hold the building. We were all just wearing whatever uniforms we had on, and eye gear, and the M-16's and the llike were handed out with "ammo" just as they had been countless times before.
The attack began and a massive firefight erupted. I had a position that afforded me good cover and I proceded to tag our oppponents. Being a good shot, I was concerning myself with center of the chest shots that in a real battle would render an enemy neutral or dead. Instructors and student's were yelling, and all around me friends and foes dropped very realistically. Too realistically.
I had stopped firing and heard the instructors calling an emergency cease fire. It was then that I noticed that they weren't acting. My classmates, and the upperclassemen, had cut each other to pieces. I checked my magazine, and several others, to find that we were using live ammunition! The horror of what just happened sank in and I dove to the aid of my comrades in arms.
It was later found that a terrorist had infiltrated the Corps and replaced the scrimage rounds with the real stuff. The Commanding Officer had come to see me and asked how I was doing. I told him i was just trying to process it all. I was always the one who took things more seriously than the others, and the vast majority of the four dozen students killed were killed by rounds from my rifle since I was aiming for maximum efficiency and the others were having fun with the accuracy-by-volume approach. I had killed 37 of my friends in a matter of minutes while coming away unscathed.
This dream haunted me the whole day. I wonder if it's possible to get PTSD from a dream. After the firefight I found that the words I was speaking were my actual words. I had slipped into lucid dreaming. I wonder if it was that way the whole time. Not a cool way to start the day.
Why can't I get into lucid dreaming with Monica Bellucci?
In a world gone haywire...
Be Safe everyone.