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Bombing and Nazis
I’m a patient at a hospital or health clinic and I’m wearing a hospital gown. I’m not sure if I’m waiting for test results or waiting to see a doctor or waiting for surgery but I walk down a flight of stairs when I hear an explosion. I panic and head for the exit. Glass and debris are raining down outside the doorway and I go back in and the building is shaking and rocking. I see people with terrified expressions trying to hold on to whatever is stable.
Then the scene switches and I’m outdoors in a field and sitting in a lawn chair. It appears to be a beautiful summer afternoon and I’m working on a project that looks like a big poster board with red lines and filled in circles. I see my old friend Chet nearby talking closely to a man who is wearing a uniform. My friend walks toward me and the man follows. He tells me “Don’t say anything.” The man walks up to me and demands to know if he (Chet) is a homosexual. I just sit there dumbfounded and go back to my work. He grabs my arm and says come with me.
Then I’m in a very wooded and shaded area of the same field and sitting on a bench waiting for further instructions. The man gets out of a small car like a glassed in golf cart and now he’s speaking with a heavy German accent. He commands me to kneel. I show him my cane and say I’m going to need help in that department. I’m thinking that I will go along with this fiasco until I figure out a way to get out of it. Then I wake up much to my relief.
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