This was a dream I had a loooong time ago: I was playing basket ball with a group of friends from university. Actually, I shouldn't call them 'friends' - more like acquaintences that I didn't really like hanging around with but they seemed stuck to me (I don't know if that's important for the dream interpretation but I thought I'd put it out there just in case). So we're playing basket ball and I slam the ball into the ground so hard that I break a hole in the hardwood. Looking down into the hole, we see what looks like a bottomless pit. Lining the walls are tons of crosses (I can't remember if anyone's crucified on them). It was as though we had discovered something of ancient significance that was built over and forgotten. Then the scene changes. It's some kind of wet foggy grassland - the fog is very think. Suddenly out of the mist comes a military general in navy blue 19th century American attire. He has a white beard and moustache. He doesn't come out walking but wrestling with someone else - I can't make out who it is but I sense it's me (like looking at myself from the third person perspective). We wrestle on the ground, rolling over each other, until we get to a decline. We roll down the decline, arriving at the bottom of a small ditch, hitting the base of a cross. We stop fighting and get up. We look around. All along the length of the ditch are rows and rows of crosses. This time, they definitely do have people crucified to them, but they're long since dead - some decaying corpses, some bare skeletons. They've all got 19th century attire hanging from them - dirty and torn. The general guy points to the one whose cross we bumped into and says "This one died bravely in the war of 18-something-or-other". Then I wake up.
