Have you ever had a gun dream?

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QUOTE: " I don't know whether to laugh or cry."

Does that mean you dont want to hear about the times my wife has had to throw herself on top of me to keep my from getting to my gun in my sleep?
 
I occasionally have one of two recurring dreams where in one, I'm in what I think is a gunstore, but it's endless rooms connected by hallways that are mostly OD-green, musty-smelling, surplusy-looking stuff on wooden tables. I occasionally pick up some ammo that looks rather unfamiliar, or sometimes it's just spent rifle shells. Seems I look over lots of boxes of stuff but can never find anything that I'm looking for. I'm not even sure what I'm looking for. Occasionally there are plastic airplane models or railroad cars on shelves in the room.

In the other dream, I'm at a firing range, and sometimes it's a short firing range, kind of like a tarp covered structure on three sides and open on one side, like a carnival shooting gallery, but without the carnival. It those dreams, it always seems as if the ammo is less powerful than a BB and just lodges in the dirt in front of a target. It's always darkish and musty and OD-colored as well.

In another version of the firing range dream, it's a huge open field with mountains in the distance and blue skies and I'm always waiting for the range to open up, or else, I'm just getting set up shoot just as they're closing.

Ed
 
I've had a few. Only remember one at the moment. I was shooting at somebody (with a bolt-action, I think). I suppose I hit him. My immediate thought was "huh, they're right. In an emergency situation, you don't hear the gunshot."
 
QUOTE: "Go ahead, treo, you may continue.."

what's to say? the question was have you had a gun dream?

I never remember the dreams, I can figure them out though.

I've been mortared , there's the "incoming" dream

I've never been shot at W/ a machine gun much less an M-60 & I've never been in close quaters combat ( I was a cannon cocker) so I'm not sure where those dreams from.

DW says I scream and start swinging and reach for the gun, she jumps on me & that's when I wake up I can't connect the dream W/ anything in my history
 
I usually dream about the most prominent thing I thought of before going to bed. I also research my gun purchases very thoroughly, and a friend [You folks might know him as Ducktape on THR] and I inevitably end up talking guns on a nightly basis. So my dreams usually involve the AR I'm slowly building, and occasionally using it in a fight.
A few weekends ago some friends and I went and checked out a burlesque show (not a strip club. this was a variety show featuring scantily clad women, but no nudity; very tasteful and entertaining) That night I had a dream I was in The Castle Anthrax (of Monty Python and The Holy Grail). I was Sir Galahad.:evil:
 
For me too, dreams involving guns are usually very, very unsettling.

Funny, I often get the 9,000 lbs trigger pull thing (and this usually happens while I'm being shot at.)

I have dreams about horridly under powered loads where the bullet falls to the ground in front of me (again this while I'm being shot at.)




It's interesting to see how many people's gun dreams are actually nightmares and not at all pleasant.
 
In mine I am either surrounded by bad guys or wolves, and they're slowly circling closer, and I have an automatic pistol. When I go to shoot the pistol, it falls apart into ALL of its component pieces, and I desperately try to sift all the little parts out of the sand and get it reassembled while the wolves/bg's slowly close in... Sometimes in the dream I get it all put back together, and go to shoot again, and it just goes click, and a cowboy (?) holds up an oversized gleaming firing pin and says "I think you forgot this mister."
 
I've actually had some mundane dreams where I'm roaming about, satisfied knowing I'm carrying my pistol and that it's there for me if a situation arises where I need it.

A few times, I do remember casually and calmly reaching for it, aiming, and popping off a few rounds. Unfortunately, I can't remember who or what it is I'm shooting at, or whether or not the situation was justified or not.
 
I've been shot twice in my dreams. Once in the gut, and once in the head.

In the gut-shot dream, I was standing outside of a theater or similar venue, and was shot from about ten feet. I felt the slug hit my abdomen, but there was no pain. I looked down at my stomach, and the view suddenly went third-person, and I saw myself collapsing onto the ground.

The other dream involved sitting in the driver's seat of my car (with my windows rolled down, for some stupid reason), and someone very rapidly walked from the hood direction of the car and shot me once in the head with a small-caliber firearm. It was quite vivid: my head fell a bit, I could tell that all of the sudden, something was very wrong, and I felt myself fading out. I remember saying to myself, "Oh, heck no," (or a variation thereof) and willing myself to pull through. I woke up right then.

Then, of course, I've had the dreams where I was firing an AK-47 (complete with green tracers) and the bullets arced and dropped about 20 feet away, at a very inopportune time, tactically speaking.

The ineffectiveness of firearms (and all weapons) in dreams is an interesting theme, likely rooted in human nature. It is a topic that seems to be very worthwhile to contemplate.

-Sans Authoritas
 
As a matter of fact, I had one last night. It was a War of the Worlds scenario. I had my H&R .22, my .38 Davis deringer, and my new HiPoint 9mm carbine. I was with a bunch of unarmed people; somehow they seemed to be lesser-known Hollywood actors. I don't who who they were, I just new they were from Hollywod. The aliens never attacked, the machines just sat out there on the horizon.

If I'd a had my choice, it would have been one of my 1911's and my wife's Bushmaster. Or at least my Ruger P89 and one of my SKS's.
 
I, too, have them from time to time, and have since I was in my late teens. In every one, however, there is a common denominator: an absolutely preposterous comedy of errors occurs wherein any gun or guns I have fail in ever bigger ways (e.g. sights/optics come off; spent cases get struck in the breach; magazines blow clean out of their mag wells; slides blow right off of their frames; barrels blow right off of the receiver housings into which they are screwed).

I think this is why I can't help but spend the money for best-in-class guns, gun parts, scopes, and other firearms appointments/accessories despite the fact that I'll probably never really need such military-grade hardware. I don't think I'm all that unusual in this regard either. That is, I think ALOT of us are just that neurotic when it comes to our precious guns.
 
My most memorable gun dream was one where I was like in a museum full ofr western style revolvers and lever action rifles. The clean reflective surfaces shining from the light being inside museum like display cases. Now I am a fan of western style guns and once I am a working professional and have money to spare beyond my normal stock with a far larger gun safe I'll be sure to pickup modern remakes of old western classics like Spartan double barrell hammer shotguns, Winchester(or American made clone) lever action 30-30 (also a leverl action Marlin 45-70 even though it's not a true western gun), and a few SA 45 Long Colt made by American companies (Not Rugers even though I'll probably get a 45 Long Colt in 4 5/8), and probably a couple of black powders while I'm at it. Granted this will all probably take ten to fifteen years to realize but I'm in no rush.
 
I had two, two nights in a row making me think I should sell my guns.

First one I was a cop in my home town and I ended up in a shootout with the guy who grew up like 1/4 mile from me who's now in jail for malicious wounding and assault by mob charges.

In the dream he was my brother, I killed him and then his brothers (who weren't my brothers for some reason) were coming to kill me in retribution for killing "our" brother. I woke up when they had my house I grew up in surrounded.

Then, had a dream where my current residence was "invaded" by like 5 guys and I couldn't defend it with my shotgun because there were just too many.

I woke up after the second one and just sat and thought: "Maybe this is the big man telling me that guns have consequences and you shouldn't own them..."

Talked myself out of that quickly after some coffee.
 
I have a strange recurring theme in my dreams. It's always a different dream, but the same situation. I dream that I need to defend myself from a threat, but my gun fails me. Sometimes it just won't fire, other times I miss repeatedly, other times the bullets plop harmlessly on the ground in front of me. However, I always switch to a knife and am able to defend myself with that.

This is strange and ironic, because I don't think of knives as effective weapons in real life.

Stranger still, its seldom or never the gun and knife that I normally carry, but some random other gun/knife combo that I may not even own.

Weird. Probably means something. Don't care enough to figure it out.
 
I’ve had lots of dreams where I desperately need a gun, then find one but all the ammo is the wrong size and won’t fit

Wow. I usually have the same thing happen. In any dream where I have a firearm, I can never find any ammo. When I do, it turns out to be all screwey and wierd. I once had this shotgun I was walking around the house with looking for shells. When I finally found some, they turned into jello as I tried to slide them up into the magazine. My firearms NEVER have ammo that works.

As for being shot in dreams, I once went into a store to try on a suit. So I tried on a plaid one, stood in front of the mirror, and decided it was HIDEOUS. When I go back to the dressing room, I find out the store owner has sold my clothes! I'm stuck wearing this hideous plaid suit. So when I ask the owner, "Hey! Why'd you sell my clothes?" He pulls out a snubby, quick as a wink and POW! Shoots me right in the forehead. So, as I'm laying on the ground, I stick my finger in the hole and feel my squishy brain. Now I'm pissed! This guy shot me! So as I sit up, I notice that there's blood all over this hideous plaid suit. This is very dismaying, because now, I won't be able to return it. This makes me doubly torqued off. So I dig my .45 out of my pocket and, strangely enough, I realize I DON'T HAVE ANY BULLETS.

WHY DO I NEVER HAVE ANY BULLETS?
 
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