Extract of Ayatollah Jami War Diaries
Selected by Faezeh Sasanikhah
Translated by: Zahra Hosseinian
2023-11-2
The morning of October 27, 1980 was strange and unforgettable. Khorramshahr had fallen, and the enemy force was stationed there. The beautiful and important Khorramshahr port had been lost. The people of Khorramshahr had gradually left the city since a month ago, but they had not taken their furniture. Houses were full of furniture and valuables. Khorramshahr Customs, Khorramshahr Port, and... what can I say, Khorramshahr, with billions of wealth, had fallen into the hands of Iraqi looters; and now what were they doing to this city? Painfully, it was heard that some Muslim girls who served in the front, had been captured by the Iraqis.
I have started today with these sorrowful and painful adventures. How long on earth Khorramshahr should resist? The city has stood with any indescribable hardships about 40 days; How much blood has been spilled? From the old man and woman and little children, who have trapped under rubble, to the dear and strong young people of the revolution, whose bodies have been destroyed by Saddam's mortars in the trenches. And indeed, what a spirit and firm determination they had, and what a history they created, which will shine in the heart of history like a light forever. Undoubtedly, among the history of wars and story of sacrifices, the story of Khorramshahr and its resistance will remain rare, if not unique.
Let's think for a moment: a civilian city, without any prior announcement, was suddenly attacked by demonic forces, and the cowardly enemy, contrary to all standards and principles of war, attacked it from the ground and air; and this city, however, stood resolutely against such an enemy and paralysed them for more than a month. Well done Khorramshahr and its proud people, who brought honour and glory to the city by their blood, and taught resistance and stability to the free people of the world, and taught us the meaning of life. They taught us that only surviving and breathing in this finite world is not enough. It is not enough for human being to eat and drink in this prison for several times to increase their weight, and only witness all these frauds. This is not life; it is misery. The real life is the life that these brave freemen had. They lived in such way that now that they have left this world, they are alive and proud forever.
At the present, I am suffering from a sorrow and grief that weigh on my shoulder like a mountain; they twist my mind and scratches my heart; the sorrow and grief of losing these dear young people, these followers of the Quran and the mosque, these youth who were the fruit of Islam and educated by the Quran and the mosque. Many people strove to bring up these youth, and now they are all gone. But what a beautiful death! A romantic one! Being sacrificed in the path of righteousness! And they are alive; alive forever.
Eternal is the one whose heart has awakened to Love / This is how Eternal Records my life define
Yes, they all were killed to survive and maintain our school; to survive and preserve the school of Islam and the holy Islamic movement.
Well, they were follower of Hazrat Imam Hossein, and they really repeated the story of Karbala. But the bitter point is that after suffering all those victims, martyrs, injured, destruction and waste, this city was taken from the hands of the Quran’s followers, and now it is in the hands of the Yazidis. All the damages could have been prevented. Khorramshahr was on the verge of falling more than seven times, and these forces saved it desperately, and each time they shouted loudly that they need support and auxiliary forces to defeat and suppress the enemy; they need artillery to cover us. Unfortunately, these cries were not taken seriously; and it was stressed that to resist until the reinforcements arrived. They promised to resist for 72 hours or 48 hours and sometimes 24 hours until the troops arrive. I personally called the president once. He said to resist for 48 hours until the troops arrive; and Khorramshahr stood for 40 days instead of 72 hours or 48 hours, and defeated Saddam's fresh and well-equipped forces. But, alas, there was no traces of the sent forces and troops. It was a tragedy that the ranger soldier, the brave guard, the combat forces have lost their morale, and they unanimously said that we are not able to fight with Heckler & Koch G3 against cannons and mortars. They said the truth. the verse "if anyone attacks you, retaliate in the same manner" also says the same. The high authorities still promise, but we are sure that they break their promises.
Yes, I started that day with such things. My brain was full of various imaginations: will Abadan also fall soon, and what will be the situation of Dezful and especially Ahvaz following the fall of Abadan? Or the God help us and the presence of Imam of the Ummah will once again save the revolution? All people hoped for divine grace.
I listened to the VOA at 6:00 Am. The news of the fall of Khorramshahr and its consequences were analysed. Mr. Mousavi, Mohammadi and Sedaghat (Khorramshahr scholars) got ready to leave Abadan. Mr. Mousavi and Mohammadi were going to go Mahshahr, and Sadaqat headed Bushehr. They said goodbye and left. God bless them as they face a world of sorrow. Today, I wrote a detailed letter to the Imam, and gave it to Mr. Javadi, one of the IRGC officials, who was on his way to Tehran. I had reported the events in detail in that letter.
I went to the gendarmerie regiment (war room) at around 10 Am. The vibes were not bad, but the morale is very low and I saw less fighting mood in people. I talked to some people for a while and consoled them. The operation commander was good. He was busy gathering forces. I talked with him and then went to the radio station. It is pleasant for me to meet the staff of radio.
I came home at eleven o'clock. I was at home until 12, and then went to the Quds Mosque for prayers as usual.
Source: Kazemi, Mohsen, I Wrote to Last, Tehran, Surah Mehr, 2007, p. 90.
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Destiny Had It So
Memoirs of Seyyed Nouraddin AfiIt was early October 1982, just two or three days before the commencement of the operation. A few of the lads, including Karim and Mahmoud Sattari—the two brothers—as well as my own brother Seyyed Sadegh, came over and said, "Come on, let's head towards the water." It was the first days of autumn, and the air was beginning to cool, but I didn’t decline their invitation and set off with them.