Had an AWESOME dream last night, one perfect for a World War 2 person like me!

So it started out on June 6, 1944, I'm in a landing craft with other guys, were all nervous as hell, then it's time to lower the ramp, but just like it Medal of Honor Frontline, we got blown off the craft before we could get off. I blacked out or something and found myself on the beach. I got up, staggering around due to being soaked and already carrying some heavy equipment. I had lost my weapon and was crawling around looking for something to use. I found an M1 Garand, but it had one shot left so I ejected the clip and searched around for more. I found a bunch of bullets scattered behind one of the barricades. I quickly tried to find matching bullets that would fit into my weapon. Finally I gave up because I was a sitting duck doing this. I tossed it down and found another, one that hadn't been fired ye and I began to shoot up at the bunkers. My dream skipped to when it was over. I stood up, catching my breathe and throwing up on the ground. There were bodies everywhere, some whole, others blown to pieces. I sat down and took my helmet off. The last thing I remember was looking down at the wet sand.

I wish I could have more dreams like that one. I know it'll never be the same, but in a way, I felt as though I was reliving history in my dream. Everything felt mostly real.