SABAH (88)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami
Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

2021-12-14

SABAH (88)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami

Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

Published by Soore Mehr Publishing Co.

Persian Version 2019

One time, they brought a patient from Fars province to our hospital. He needed surgery. After surgery we received him in recovery and brought him to the ward. At that time, the medication used for anesthesia was “Ketalar”.

Due to the use of Ketalar in anesthesia, the patients went into a condition that they expressed anything they had in their minds and if anybody asked a question from them, they gave the right answer subconsciously; I had even heard that when SAVAK could not make some of the revolutionists confess, injected them with Ketalar and got the answers to all questions.

We received the patient. In a semi-conscious condition, he repeated constantly there is no God other than the one God … Tonight is my first grave night … my God is Allah, first Imam is Hazrat Ali … there is no God other than the one God … he repeated these words with closed eyes for around four, five minutes. When we took him to the ward and transferred him on the bed, he slowly opened his eyes. When he opened his eyes, he turned towards Zahra Farrokh Nejad who was standing above him and said: “I am in heaven, you are the angels, right?!”

We didn’t know how to stop laughing. We had turned into angels. He was telling angel to Zahra who was the naughtiest and funniest of us all and if she started joking about anything, she wouldn’t give up.

Zahra said: “No brother! You are in hospital and I am a nurse and not an angel! You had been wounded and were taken to surgery. You are gaining consciousness now.”

Later Zahra told us that the patient had proposed to her and had said that he has a fruit shop in his city and his income is good. Zahra had rejected his proposal and had said that she doesn’t intend to marry at the moment. Zahra’s destiny was to get married to a war veteran and later she married one of the injured soldiers[1].

One of the other patients was a clergy from Tehran around forty years old. He had been wounded by a bullet to his stomach and had undergone surgery. He said in recovery overnight. The next day when Maryam and I went to transfer him to the ward, he said: “Sisters, I congratulate you for your Hejab. Your presence in this hospital is a blessing for the hospital. Pay full attention to yourselves. You shouldn’t let the behavior of other patients to impress you … you have to impress them.”

The first month of summer of year 1360 (1981) coincided with the holy month of Ramadan. It was very hard to fast in the warm weather of Khuzestan and frontlines. The Iraqi artillery hit the areas from night till dawn when the fighters were resting. When it was evening prayer time, Iraqis hit all the locations where people could gather; including Jame mosque of Abadan to hospitals. Fifth column was also active and gave statistics and exact location. Sometimes the fire of the enemy was so constant and non-sto9p that we didn’t find the chance to read two prayers in the morning.

It was the seventh day of first month of summer. Belgheys and I were taking a patient from recovery to the ward that we heard the news of the explosion of Republic Party and martyrdom of Mr. Beheshti. I started crying. Since the victory of revolution, negative propaganda was much against Shahid Beheshti; propaganda which was done mostly by forces in agreement with the revolution.

Mr. Beheshti had many debates in TV with the oppositionists of Islamic Republic: with liberals and others. He was very dominant in speech. In these debates, many topics were challenged; and there was discussion between the defenders of Bani Sadr and Mr. Beheshti. There were talks against him. I remember that once I heard that they said that Beheshti has extracted his front tooth so that when he speaks English or German, his accent is beautiful and resembles the foreigners!

At the beginning I thought that since Imam doesn’t take sides in some cases, so he had to keep silent too but little by little I noticed that Shahid Beheshti is telling the truth. In cases when Imam Ali kept silent, Emar and Abouzar didn’t stay silent. Therefore, I could distinguish pure from impure and it had been months that I had admitted to the legitimacy of Shahid Beheshti with my heart and mind.

Now that I had heard the news of the martyrdom of him and his followers, I found out about his oppression. Everybody was not competent for martyrdom. The patient comforted me saying: “Sister, don’t cry like that, our enemy will be happy. I envy their happiness. Martyrdom is their wish. We also have to wait.” He was right. There were all kinds of people in the hospital. It was possible that hypocrites were in that crowd, also individuals from other groups. I don’t know why I was so devastated. I had just noticed Shahid Beheshti’s oppression and had found out that he was an important and effective individual for Islamic Republic.

While bombarding different locations, some areas near the hospital were also bombarded. Many of the windows in the upper floors of the hospital were broken but thanks God the hospital didn’t bear any essential harm. The more passed, the more Taleghani hospital was filled with injured soldiers. During these events, once we heard the crying voice of a newborn infant and suddenly everybody started smiling.

The newborn’s mother was a young Arab woman from Kafisheh and her screams were all over the hospital. At first we thought she has been wounded. When we ran towards her, we noticed that she is pregnant and is going through labor. We had a midwife in the hospital. She was a kind and smiling woman who was closed specially to me. We took the woman to her. They quickly moved her inside one of the rooms of the ward. A few minutes later, the crying voice of newborn filled the hospital and we all started smiling. Thanks God they were both healthy.

The mother named her newborn daughter “Katjusha”. In those days we heard that many Arabs in Khuzestan named their children specially boys with weapons and guns’ names. Even one of our neighbors from Khorramshahr had named her daughter “Entezar (expectation)”. When we asked her why she had chosen that name, she said: “Since we are waiting for Khorramshahr to be free and we return to our city! Therefore I have named my daughter “Entezar (expectation).”

One day when Belgheys and I were in the hospital together, an army official came and said: “Sister! I am the commander of Abadan artillery. I have come here to ask for help.” I said: “What kind of help?!” He said: “There is an Arab family near Abadan artillery and they are not ready to leave the area. I don’t know Arabic. I have done my best to make them understand that they have to leave the area, please come and help me. You might be able to persuade them. Their lives are in danger.”

We knew the Commander since he sometimes commuted to the hospital. It had happened that he had brought one of his own forces who had been wounded. He was about forty years old and had a few white hairs on his temple. His clean and ironed appearance with his gaiter trousers was very noticeable.

Belgheys and I set out. We got into the army car and went to Abadan artillery. Twenty thirty meters away from the artillery, the car stopped. We saw a house made of mud in front of us. The yard door was open. The Commander knocked the door and we went in.

In the yard, an old man wearing Dashdasheh was standing who greeted us with grave Arabic accent. I tried to explain the old man that it is dangerous to stay here and there is possibility that one of the cannon balls hit their house. As we were standing, the surrounding was being hit and the voice of explosion of cannon and mortar bombs were everywhere. In the yard, there were two three lines of ropes and there were many clothes of women and children on them.

I told the old man: “Your and your families’ lives are in danger, you have to leave.”

As I was talking, I saw a blind woman coming out of the house, holding a newborn in her arms. Behind her a seven eight years old girl walked out. The woman was very young. She looked about twenty something years old and was thirty forty years younger than the old man! In response to my pleads and appeals, the old man said constantly: “No I can’t go. If I go what will happen to my goats? I can’t take all of them with me!”

I felt very angry and shouted: “What do you need the goats for?! Your and your family’s life is in danger, then you think about your goats?!” He said: “My whole life depends on the goats! Where should I leave them?! If I am not here, who will give them water and grass? They will die in one day.”

I said: “Do you really want to get yourself and your family killed for the goats?! If you are not alive, what are the goats for?” He said: “Nothing will happen to us. The artillery is here, therefore we are safe.”

We talked and pleaded a lot but could not persuade the old man to leave that area. When we came out of their home, I was very sad. I was upset because I hadn’t been able to persuade him. I knew that today and tomorrow something will happen to them.

One week passed. The team members announced that the Iraqi artillery has hit a family and they are brought to emergency. My heart dropped. I remembered the old man and his family. I ran towards the emergency. As I entered the emergency, I saw the dead body of the old man’s wife. In a horrible condition!

The quiver had raptured the upper part of the breast. There was no sign of her head and face and shoulder. I recognized from her clothing that it was her. She had the same clothes on, long black dress and trouser with colorful flowers. I was bad. Her newborn was not with her. It was not obvious what had happened to the newborn and the other child. I remembered I pleaded to the old man. I told him that he shouldn’t stay there.

The old man was crying at the entrance of the emergency. I went out. The old man was sitting on the ground and was pouring dust on his head and was crying. He was saying unclear things in Arabic and was hitting his head with both hands. I couldn’t control myself so I approached him and said: “Finally you killed her?! Are you satisfied now?! Are you relieved now?!”

To be continued …