I am a Roman Soldier in a standing army. I am simply a Legionnaire. It always begins at the same place. Surrounded by tens of thousands of my fellow Roman Legionnaires, the dream always begins in a lush valley between two mountains. They are not snow capped mountains. It is clearly spring or early summer. An opposing army on the other side of the valley. We hold the high ground. Though the high ground is always abandoned to meet on level ground. This is not sound strategy that I know of. The armies clash time and time again. With brief respites to pull away the dead before the fighting continues. I am a active fighter not standing back in the lines. I carry a Gladius, a Scutum with a coat of arms i can never remember across my back and a Pilum. I never knew the word but I know from the dream it’s called a Pilum. Which is a sort of Halbred or pike. I am actively standing behind the shield wall stabbing or slashing at anything beyond the wall. Blood and other human liquids cover the battlefield as well as ourselves. We are in ankle deep animal/human blood and fluids. We battle on into the night. The moon hangs mid horizon and there is a lunar eclipse. A blood moon. All the standing men of each army stop fighting and return to camps. At this time the dream comes to an end with me watching the blood moon shin deep in blood and gore. The blood glistens on my skin, hair and armor in the red light of the moon giving me a beautiful crimson glow. I’ve had this dream many times throughout my life. Even as a child. The strange thing is I look as I do now as I did to myself in this dream when I was a child.