Two Memories from the Book: This Man has No End

Compiled by: Faezeh Sasanikhah
Translated by: Fazel Shirzad

2023-1-10

You wronged me.[1]

We had a brother named Zandi, he was a mechanical engineer, and he was in charge of our equipment. In the middle of the Dawn 8 operation, I heard that his son had an accident the day before and was killed. They kept this child until the father came, to assign responsibility to the driver who hit him, and to bury the child. I thought how to convince our brother to come back without him noticing. It was the news of the child's tragedy. She came. I thought how to convince him. He came to me I said: Mr. Mehdi! He said: Yes, when he came to me, I saw that he was very smiling and cheerful. The war had many problems, bottlenecks, difficulties. I saw that he was very cheerful, I became worry for him. I said: Mr. Mahdi, this is a long war, the enemy's tracks are successive, you come, go back, go remember your home, let him be your successor, then he will return, you go in his place. You come back, he goes on vacation. He looked at me and laughed.

      Do you know what you are saying? Yes. You are telling me to go to the enemy's camp, are you on leave?! I know why you are telling me this. Are you talking about my child? He was a trust, given to me by God. I sent a message to bury the child and release the driver.

     The same brother who was martyred in the 5th Karbala operation. On the day of the guard, I gathered the guards of the army of Tharullah. I had in my mind to honor this guard brother Mehdi Zandi, and some other guards. It was also the guard's day. It was a very vain thing, it was bad, I am still ashamed of it.

     I looked at the end of the assembly, and I saw Mehdi sitting at the door, a white scarf wrapped around his head, his hand under his chin, and he was listening to my words.

     When we said that we want to introduce the model guard, everyone was angry about who is the model guard. He was also listening. He didn't know what was going on. When I mentioned his name above as a guard and said "Mehdi Zandi", I felt that he was melting into the ground; It melts! He cried like a spring cloud. I grabbed his shoulders, he came up on the platform towards me. When he wanted to take that coin to honor himself, he looked at my face, while shedding tears, he said: You wronged me.

    I will never forget this look in my life. My shame has never been so great in any sin.[2]

In the holy defense, everything was tied to the name of Imam Athar (PBUH) and this is not common in the war system of the world. Many of the behaviors that were wrong in the fronts, have been drawn for us today.

    During the holy defense, we have not heard that they encouraged anyone. The war had hundreds of thousands of fighters and dozens of operations, but so far it has not been heard that Imam gave medals and ranks to anyone. Such an act was considered an insult during the time of war and holy defense. I did this act once and for the rest of my life, I am ashamed of my act, and it was only because of the look and words of a martyr that I encouraged him. When I gave a token of appreciation and a coin to that warrior who later became a martyr, this martyr told me that: "You broke me with this card."[3]

Honoring martyr mothers

I remember there was a mother in one of these villages in Kerman named Khanuk. This mother, her husband and her three sons were in the war called Zadkhush. His son, who was martyred, did not allow anyone to dig the grave. He came to dig the grave himself; a woman. When he got tired, he called his daughters to help him. Dig the grave of his son who was seventeen years old. Then he came and put this boy in the grave. He buried her and sent her husband and two other sons to the front. This scene was strange.

     I will never stop the crying of the martyr's mother, martyr's father, not only, but I also have advice. In my village, a martyr's mother makes a very beautiful hairdo, with that beautiful phrase, I go...I go...I go...I would die with this. I believe this voice should be in our ears as long as he is alive. These tears and this sadness have a price for us. It is capital.[4]