I was six or seven. I dreamed I was in a hole with fog and barbwire everywhere. There had been silence for hours and I grew tired of waiting so I looked at my two comrades in the hole with me and motioned I was going to stand up. I did. I was then shot full of holes. I was very upset that my comrades had to see me die. At least they knew it still wasn't safe. Then I woke up.

My parents were very poor and I slept on an old army cot. I had no bed... I woke my father and he had to explain to me that I'd been dreaming of war. It was terrifying because I didn't even know what war was.