To see a tank truck in your dream represents the need to defend yourself and stand up for your beliefs….not letting anything or anybody stand in your way toward your goals.
To see a weapon in your dream indicates a need to defend and protect yourself emotionally and/or physically.
The number thirty-two implies that you are emotionally numb.
The number five represents the five human senses and thus may be telling you to be more “sensitive” and be more in tune to your senses. Alternatively, the number five may reflect a change in your path or that you need to alter your course. It is also the link between heaven and earth.
To see traffic in your dream indicates the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Sometimes you feel like you are just going with the flow. Things have become too routine.-dreammoods.com
Some crane terminology; “Take it to the house”- to travel a crane to its regular shut down spot and standby.
“Dog it down”- to park, secure and shut down the crane at the end of a shift.
Monday, November 11, 2013; unconscious dreaming
I was up in my crane on standby waiting for a truck coming down the pier that had to be loaded. The truck pulled a forty feet long chrome tank like a fuel carrier. A call came over the radio for me to make a lift off the ship and place it down by the truck. I dropped the crane hooks over the port side of the mast, my blind spot. Once rigged, I was given the order to pick up the load and set it next to the truck below. The load was a box about five feet square. Once I had set it next to the tanker, the top opened automatically, and I was directed to drop my hook inside.
The hooks had no sooner entered the box when I was signaled to pick them back up. As I lifted the hooks, the tanker part of the truck opened. Two doors, the length of the tanker swung up and over hanging to the side. Inside the tank is a cylinder in three sections; the length of the tanker held racks. When I pulled up my hooks from the box, there was a short, plump heavy looking gun at the end.
The gun resembled a large air impact gun, like the ones you would see in a mechanic’s shop removing and replacing the lugs on a tire, except this was one and a half times larger. I was directed by two men in the tanker next to the cylinder to swing the gun over and drop it down into one of the racks. Once this gun had been situated properly, I went back and pulled another out of the box. When a pair was in place, the cylinder would turn to the next pair of empty racks. I did this thirty two times until all racks were taken up.
When the racks were full, the top of the tanker closed. After the doors shut, the tanker’s length began to shrink. The forty foot oval shape changed over to a square with rounded corners, perhaps less than twenty feet long. A third change in the tanker, was the color which had faded into a translucent black. I could just see the guns in their racks and the rack slowly turning counter-clock wise.
As the cylinder slowly turned, the guns started to glow into a gold brightness. Watching all this take place, I saw the guns began popping in and out of existence in no specific order. I thought I had imagined things but when they vanished, I could see the empty racks. Each gun would disappear for only a second or two then reappear. The truck quickly backed off the pier and out of the yard. Just afterward, a call came over my radio.
“Take it to the house and dog-it down.”
After the crane was tied down and secured, I was directed to go over to an office building some miles away for a safety meeting. The next event I recall in the dream was being in a large room with about two dozen other people. These were co-workers who had also been on the pier during loading of the weapons. The room was part of an office building. It had no windows, chairs, or furnishings other than a small five-foot round stage that stood just under two feet tall.
A military general came across the room from a side door and walked onto the stage. He stopped in the middle and faced us all. He informed us, that anything we had seen from the pier out of the ordinary should be forgotten about. He then added that speaking of anything that was on the pier today could greatly affect the health of our families. After that he stepped from the stage and left by the same door he had entered. We all filed through the door just chatting as we would after any meeting. Outside, the parking area was about a block away and placed in an open field connected by a dirt road. Traffic leaving was going to stir up a thick cloud of dust. I rushed down the dirt road, wanting to get to my car as soon as possible.
Behind me, I heard two female voices. I turned and saw two girls in their twenties coming up on foot and passing me by. When I looked a head, I could no longer see them. Within seconds, a car came speeding over the road from the parking area, and as it passed, I saw the two women sitting inside. I stopped and watched them in wonder about how they could have gotten to their car so quickly. Just then another car sped by, it was a co-worker who had still been at the building when I had left. I continued to my car noticing a long line of cars from everyone who had been at the meeting. The dust became thick and clung to the sweat on me. What should have been a short walk seemed to stretch out endlessly next to the line of dozens or more cars. I never made it to the end before I woke.