I happen to be rereading the memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant.  If you were to ask me why, I’d probably say that I just happen to like rereading the memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant every so often (and, almost inevitably, following up with Bruce Catton’s masterful Grant Moves South and Grant Takes Command).  Robbo is very Pro Grant, believing that the man’s sterling qualities of character get unjustifiably overlooked because of his less-than-flamboyant personality and because of the scandals that plagued his cabinet during his presidency.  I think I would have rayther liked sitting about a campfire with him, perhaps taking a drop of the crayture and simply hobnobbing about things.  Something tells me we’d get on pretty well.

Anyhoo, I mention this because last evening I was reading about the Yazoo Pass expedition during Grant’s attempt to get at Vicksburg in early 1863 when I suddenly remembered that I had actually dreamed once (perhaps in conjunction with one of my prior readings of the episode) about being in that campaign.  I don’t remember all the details, but I do remember that I was leading an infantry force to rescue Admiral Porter’s gunboats from Confederate sniper fire.   I seem to recall actually running up alongside a gunboat and looking feverishly into the surrounding brush for any signs of rebs.

Why this particular piece of history should have penetrated into the subconscious strata of what pass for Robbo’s braims, I really couldn’t say, but there it is.  While I have from time to time had other historickally-based dreams, they’ve all tended to be highly stylized and vague.  I do not believe I have ever had another one involving this much specificity of time, place and incident.