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Maybe it's time to go back to therapy...3 nightmares. 3 nights in a row. This one is more of a memory with a shitty ending.

I'm back in the Middle East. It's the middle of the night. Our base has just been shelled via mortor attack by the enemy and the number of rounds that went up didn't match the number of explosions that hit the ground. That means it's time for the Base Clearance Team (which I am on) to go looking for the dud and pray that it doesn't still go boom. 

I gear up, grab my flashlight and head out to start looking. Only my flashlight is weak. I can barely see more than a couple of feet in front of me, meaning it's going to take a hot minute to clear my section. I'm walking and walking and struggling to see anything. I stop to rock a piss and midstream, for some damn reason, the wind changes and blows my urine right back at me. I quickly turn 90 degrees to the right to avoid my stream and feel my boot hit something solid. I look down and see a 60mm mortor round at me feet. 

I grab my radio to inform the EOD dudes I've found the UXO (Unexploded Ordanance) when the little fan on the back of the mortar starts spinning. (In real life there isn't an actual fan. Just a tail for aerodynamics but dream land is a dick like that) Then it stopps just as suddently. I let out an audible "Fuck" just as the round explodes and I wake up.



Well, back to therapy it is then kids!

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