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Just A Dream, or PL? Not Sure...

Shiftkitty

Shiftkitty

Registered User
It was probably 1779 or 1780. I had been grabbed off the streets by a uniformed American soldier, maybe a sergeant, desperate to man a fort. I was a cooper's assistant, or had been before the place shut down. I was out of work, so I accepted any offer of an income.

Next scene I and a group of others gathered from here and there were being given the crash course in life in the Continental Army. Things were very chaotic. There were no officers to be seen, and all we were told was that the fort must not fall. Every waking moment was to be spent drilling and tending our rifles and studying. I adapted the fastest of the group, and before I knew it the sergeant had me leading a group of five.

Next scene we're on the wall of the fort. I'm in charge of a lot more men now, and it hasn't been that long a time, maybe only days. I've got a blue coat on, but my clothes beneath are my ratty, comfortable old civilian clothes. The coat barely fits, but I'm told it's just for identification. We're going to get an assault at any moment, and the wall I'm on has a big problem; it's got a thick tree line not fifty yards away. I want those trees down. I demand to know why those trees hadn't been cut down before. I'm told the fort was out of use for several years. Nobody bothered. I want them cleared, set on fire if we must!

Too late, the enemy has been spotted. Just as I had feared, they're using the thick trees for cover. I pick a line and inform my men that nobody is to be allowed across that line. Sharpshooters are not my deepest fear; sappers are. The trees come alive...

...and I woke up.

My waking emotions were those of determined anger, as if part of me knew that, come Hell of high water, that fort must not fall. Sadly I have no names. It was a stone fort, not very big. It was in disrepair and we were doing our best to bring it up to snuff because this fort had suddenly become very tactically important.

Does this sound familiar, or should I file this under 'Symbolic Dreams'?
 
Fort Ticonderoga was a stone fort in disrepair when a force of 7,500 British, Hessian and Indians forced 3,000 Americans to leave. The British were attacking every strategic position Southward along the Hudson River until they were eventually stopped at Saratoga, New York. At that time all major cities except Boston were under British occupation, and most of the troops at Ticonderoga were from New England, so the city you saw could have been Boston. During 1779 and 80 most of the fighting was in the southern states out in the open, except for the siege of Charleston in 1780, which—to the best of my knowledge—didn't involve a fort. The tree line you mentioned is very reminiscent of what happened at Ticonderoga, New York. I should add, however, that the tree line was the least of the American troubles, because the British had somehow managed to haul field artillery up to the top of a nearby hill where they could fire shells right into the fort, which was untenable from the very beginning.
 
Well, kind of hard to say as dreams are such a personal thing...However to me it has many qualities of being a PL dream, especially because you had a strong emotional connection.


Thanks for sharing! The main reason I joined this forum was to learn more about dreams, particularly PL ones as I seem to have SO many. :thumbsup:
 
Thanks for the link, Cryscat. Too bad the timeline didn't extend to '79 or '80.


Nightrain- Was a close, thick treeline a common problem for the forts? It's the treeline and the danger it presented that stands out most in my mind. Perhaps, as a lower rank, I was not briefed on any cannon (or else was lacking a less-than-spectacular tactical mind)?


I had read about Ticonderoga in regards to Ethan Allen, but as I was reading about Ethan and not the fort, I didn't get too much history about the fort itself. I'll have to study the forts more.


Ever since I first saw the name on a pencil in grade school I have liked the name 'Ticonderoga', with 'Saratoga' running a close second. Don't know why. I think it's the 'oga'. I just like the sound of it!
 
For "Ti" was originally a French and Indian fort, which was built during the period of empire, and was not considered to be of high strategic importance by the time of the Revolution (War of Rebellion). After Ethan Allen took all the cannons and dragged them to Dorchester Heights to chase the British from Boston in '75, the Fort was left with nothing to defend the fort with by '77, and by that time, the trees had grown to be overly close. Yes, the proximity of forest to any fort was considered to be a serious problem and was well-recognized by every man-at-arms. And, by that time, it seemed no one believed that artillery could be hauled to a nearby hill where occupants of the fort would become sitting ducks. So, your impressions were uncannily correct. I dare say that, if you were there, you would have lived to witness victory at Saratoga under the great general, Benedict Arnold.


And, yes...Ticonderoga and Saratoga pencils were manufactured in Saratoga, and they had a brand called Ticonderoga for historic/patriotic reasons, which were manufactured in Saratoga Springs, New York. The -oga happens because those were Native American place names.
 
Wow, thanks! That's an eye-opener! I always thought that, if anything, I'd have been one of the many civilians who tried to keep a low profile while silently rooting for one side or the other. But the possibility of having been at "Ti", that's pretty cool in my book! I'll have to meditate and see if any names come up.
 
I should add that none of the Continental troops were career soldiers and everyone bearing arms was, essentially, a civilian who was issued a blue or tan coat (regimental) for very short enlistment periods. It was often the case that entire portions of an army would evaporate because enlistments were up and men had to return to their farms for the next planting season. Although historians have generalized that the American population was one-third pro independence, one-third loyal, and one-third ambivalent; the fact is, that Nearly all of New England was a hotbed of independence, with exceptions near the coastline. Loyalists in the Boston area had already evacuated with the British to Halifax, so the influence toward independence became very strong. If you had been in Boston, your main concern would have been only for economics and concern for your family.
 
Interesting. I'll have to give this one some more meditation. I tried last night, but wound up dreaming of being a wandering musician instead. (That one didn't feel like a PL.)
 
To me emotion is always key followed by a strong feeling of some tie to a mundane but particular detail of that event, i.e. the tightness of your uniform jacket, and the "comfortable civilian clothes beneath it". If it was simply a dream your details would have been focused on the greater event or overall picture, while this one held personal observations of a life being lived not specifically related to that event.


I find non-memory dreams and mental creations are seen in large scale and do not contain the details of living that life...like the frayed, dirty cuff of my uniform with a missing button, or running in uniform with the sweat dripping down my back and switching my musket from one hand to another because of fatigue.


This "dream/memory" sounds really worthy of further investigation...and I am not saying to find a name, because while that would be an interesting connection and a potential historical validation, the true value is in more fully fleshing out your memories of that time and place and working to discover some content therein which will help you within this lifetime. I further believe that we "see" what our guidance/higher self allows us to see to further our efforts while "in country".
 
"In country." LOL, I'm going to use that phrase to refer to life from now on! :D


Sometimes, a uniform (or any clothing) can represent a role you are trying to fill. I guess, however, it has to be taken in context and emotion. Yes, there were a lot of emotions. I had a job to do. Fame and glory were not foremost in my mind. Defending the fort to the best of my ability and with as little loss of life on my side as possible was foremost. I felt a little flattered early on in the dream that they would trust me with a small command. Up on the wall, however, it was a cross between the confidence instilled by having that trust placed in me and wishing they didn't have so much faith in me! Once things started, however, it was like being a bull-rider once they've opened the gate. You just hang on for as long as you can.


Funny, this would be yet another PL where I have no recollection of family.
 
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