Four times in my life I've had recurring dreams, two of which had to do with Vietnam... One that repeated perhaps a dozen times the first couple of years after I got back from Vietnam had to do with my natural anxiety about carrying a demolition bag (I was a demolition engineer).

The high explosives in the bag aren't dangerous--you can shoot them or set them on fire, and they won't explode--but I always had a box of blasting caps, and they are very iffy, especially once they've gotten wet. They can go off with a sharp impact or a spark.

The slightly comic image that kept repeating in my dreams was one where I was running down a jungle trail, unarmed, carrying the demo bag, and in hot pursuit was an enemy soldier, armed with an endless supply of lit cigarettes!

He kept tossing the cigarettes at the demo bag, and I knew if he got one in, the caps would blow me to Kingdom Come.

SOURCE: The Tiger Garden: A Book of Writers' Dreams by Nicholas Royle, p.98-99

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