We are walking down a trail. Above and beyond I see a sort of rubber orchard (similar to another dream) with dinks. Just as I spot this Clopton comes running past, dressed in white. He has been wounded in the arm. We gather about and form a defensive perimeter. A machine gun team of dinks stalks right up to us. It seems everyone is too scared to fire. I open up with three short bursts and literally rip the dink gunner in half. A while later, a single dink walks up to us, unmolested. I sense that no one is going to fire and spatter him wickedly with my M-16. It is a good feeling, though I am worried about ammo. We retreat to a large building and cluster fuck within. It seems almost like the room I am living in now. Several of us flop onto the bed and crash. I recall thinking about pulling guard twice a night. It is a wonder that we get enough sleep. I am tempted to doze off but the fear of dinks breaking in prompts me to stay awake. Someone has the side door covered. I shift about, watching one door and then the next, expecting an attack any second. The dream becomes unclear at this point.