There are several of us smoking dope in a small park surrounded by barbed and wire fences. Among those that I recognize there is John, David and Larry W., a Sgt. From Vietnam. From the corner of my eye I see the police. They charge up to us at a gallop and we are all busted. One fellow that I do not recognize makes a dash for it. He vaults the fence and heads for the woods. As the dogs are set after him I think that it is an impossible situation. As it happens, the fellow runs quickly and makes good his escape. We are herded to a jail in India. There are many rooms here, but they are small and cramped; the bars are quite thick. I think over and over to myself, as if the dream were real, "This can't be happening to me, to me!" But it is all too true; I am locked up. A turnkey opens a cell and allows David to leave. The jailer next turns to me and offers freedom if I will inform on the others. I think to myself, "This is only a trick. Besides, I cannot betray my friends." I anguish in the little cell. The dream ends.