The person whom I had lost myself by seeing him was none other than "Fouad Salsbail" who also knew me well. He was from Khorramshahr and participated in the post revolution sedition of the Arab People, which led to the death of many innocent people. He cooperated with the Monafeghin (hypocrites) and counter-revolutionaries and had shot at and killed some people.
When he clashed with the IRGC forces and revolutionaries during an operation, he was shot and wounded, and fled to Iraq and joined the Ba'athists and worked with Iraqi Radio and Television and became a presenter of the Farsi section.
After that, whenever new captives were brought, he would come to the Ministry of Defense (Intelligence) and interview them and recounted what was in the interest of Saddam's regime from the captives' language.
Fouad Salsabil had learned that a group of captives had been brought to the intelligence. He came to interview them. Unfortunately, Fouad knew me and knew that I am the announcer of the Arabic section of Abadan Radio; the same person who read his announcement and encouraged the Iraqi forces to surrender and interviewed the captives.
My heart was beating so hard that my chest was in severe pain. I was suffocating under the blankets, but I had no choice.
The door opened with a dry and loud sound. My heart was pounding and I was pale, and I knew that my friends were no better off than me. I could hear the whispering of their prayers and I had hidden under the blankets.
Curiously, Fouad went toward the pile of the blankets, which he thought had an unnatural bulge, and hit it with his boot. As soon as he kicked, as if his foot hit something hard, he noticed something under the blankets.
He bent down and pushed aside the blankets and noticed that someone was under them surprisingly. I, who had pretended to be sleeping until that moment, felt as if a bucket of water had been poured on me, and my whole body, hair, and face were drenched in sweat.
Suddenly, when Fouad saw me, his eyes widened in surprise and while laughing loudly, he shouted: Come and see who's here! This is Mullah Saleh! This is the same Mulla Saleh who is working in Khomeini’s radio. Come and see!
He was happy and shouting, the sound of running and commotion could be heard in the corridor. The officers poured into the room and I lost myself and I was sitting next to the blankets and looking at them. They suddenly attacked me and while several people punched and kicked me, they dragged and took me to the interrogation room.
While beating me, the interrogators asked my name and I screamed and said in pain: I am Saleh, the sailor, I am a fisherman, I work on a launch.
Fouad Salsabil, who was present in the room and cooperated in the torture, shouted: This cursed person is lying; he is Mulla Saleh!
One of the officers said: You are wrong; he is Saleh Tehara! We arrested him and his companions on the fishing launch.
Fouad said: He works in Khomeini's radio-television and interviews the captives, reads Khomeini's communiques, I know him well.
With the words of the hypocrite Salsabil, it was already clear to the officers that I lied to them and the fisherman Saleh; I am not a fruit and vegetable merchant. I screamed under the blows and my moans shook the building. I was beaten so much that not only did I bleed, but my head and face were injured and bruised. My lips were split, my mouth was full of blood and it was swollen severely. Blood flowed through my hair when they took me unconscious to the room. My body was stretched on the ground.
They opened the door of the room and threw my half-dead body into the room. This time they attacked my friends and took them to the interrogation room with batons and kicks.[1]