Thread: A Squadron is Wiped Out

This dream was one of those where I was flung into a program already in progress. You know the kind where you don’t know what you’re doing, but apparently you’ve been doing your job for a while and people can’t figure out why you’re so confused.

In this dream, I was in a Navy squadron and one of my duties was to pack the pilots’ gear. I was in the supply hangar that had several long passageways with gear cages. The cages were tall and made of chain link. I think I had to go from cage to cage and gather various items. I also had to gather things the pilots put out, which included their clothes.

As I was going about my duties, one of the pilots, a woman, shouted at me that I’d done it again: I hadn’t packed something she put out. I told her if it was on the pile, it went in. When she was far away, she reminded me of Moon Bloodood (Journeyman), but when she got closer, she changed to a small-framed woman. The item I’d forgotten was something silky and pink with black trim. I felt kind of embarrassed to be talking about the item. In the dream, I held something up to my face to hide my embarrassment.

Then I turned and saw that the women pilots were being measured for clothes or something. I took that as my cue to leave as several were in leotards (isn’t that what gymnasts wear?). I felt out of place.

I walked around and smoked cigarettes. I smoked loads of them. I remember my lungs burned.

Then the entire squadron was walking along a road. I think we were going to the planes. The planes, by the way, were large enough to carry the entire squadron. As we went over a bridge for an interchange, I noticed we were very close to the mountains. I think we were in the foothills. The interchange was a standard non-cloverleaf. As we crossed the bridge, I semi came off the highway below and turned left to cross the bridge. There were cliffs on both sides. The highway below ran east to west. We were walking north. Come to think of it, it might have been I-70, just west of Denver.

I don’t know why, but it startled me and I started to run. And none too soon, either.

The next semi crashed around the corner and started flying through the air. As it flew, it crashed into several other semis and other vehicles on the bridge. Thinking fast, I grabbed the squadron commander who was a woman I know in real life. We ran for our lives.

When we got to the other side of the bridge, the commander stopped for a second and was buried under a trailer.

I kept running. The entire squadron, with the exception of me and someone named Joe (wait for it) were gone. I ran. I remember clawing at the ground with my hands to propel myself faster.

Then the phone rang. It was Joe. He’s someone who doesn’t exist, that I know of anyway. I told him what happened as I walked back to the scene. By the time I got back, everything was cleaned up and repaired.