You're just dreaming; none of this is for real, except my words, so hearken closely.
I dreamed I was in the 18th Century. There was a great battle about to take place. My uniform was that of a junior officer in the French Grenadiers. A British spy had been captured by our pickets. He was brought before me for interrogation and translation (it seems that I was the only French officer who could also speak English). The information he had gathered on our deployment of artillery was erroneous, so I ordered him released in an apparent escape in order that he would return to his handlers and thus mislead them.
Things were not as they seemed. My uniform was made of soft flannel, not the hard woven wool one would expect. The entire camp of soldiers was completely silent. Then I awakened...