We are on a firebase. It is nighttime. In the distance a flare goes off. Someone says the intelligence reports indicate we may soon be attacked. I go into a bunker and search for my aid bag (claymore) full of 4x7 'bandages. There are none around. I decide to make a search before it is too late. In the dream, I am in a house; all of a sudden mortars begin to drop, close and very loud, and profusely, I remember feeling guilty, the house can withstand practically anything, but I am still terrified. The mortars drop endlessly. When it is all over, I run out. My entire platoon, fifteen men, are all dead. They have been collected and sit in a grotesque formation of the dead. The dream becomes unclear at this point.