Fiction: The night reality kicks in… This is a war and I’m in it.

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Saturday 11th November 1978

I must have fallen asleep within minutes. Now I have a moment of wild, disorientated confusion. Seconds ago I was in the midst of one of my typically complex dreams that are nothing more than a string of unrelated images. I’d been in the main grandstand at the races for a bit and then I was inside a bus…