I often dream of warfare, this is a recent example.
At the beginning of the dream, I am a third person observer. The setting is a small village, 5-6 buildings, all but one are residences. The town is surrounded by corn fields and rolling hills, as far as the eye can see. There is one small dirt road running through and out of the town. I watch as a small army unit sets up camp in the fields, the soldiers are dark-skinned, almost non-human in the face (only). Days pass as they prepare to attack.
On the eve of the raid, my point of view becomes first-person, I am a drifter boarding in one of the homes. Night falls and the attack comes, each home stealthily broken into and its inhabitants quietly (but brutally) murdered. I alone comprehend what's happening (have retained my empirical knowledge from earlier), and hide in various places/houses, running and hiding, evading the soldiers, watching as they kill the sleeping villagers. Every time I reach a new home I hope to warn its inhabitants of the attack, but I'm always moments too late. It goes on for what honestly feels like hours, and every aspect of the dream is horrifyingly realistic.
At last it comes to a point where I feel that the soldiers have finished and departed, and I return to the house I started off in. There I find about 6 villagers seated around a table with several of the soldiers, I am seen and forced to take a seat. We're playing cards to see who dies, some ironically childlike game like Go Fish. The winner of each round gets his head blown off with a small semi-automatic, and the soldiers laugh. It's funny, at this point I'm not feeling fearful anymore - we play a couple rounds, then I wake up.