Medal and Leave - 8

11 notes from an Iraqi captive

Compiled by Hedayatollah Behboudi
Translated by: M.B. Khoshnevisan

2025-9-21

Medal and Leave - 8

11 notes from an Iraqi captive

Compiled by Hedayatollah Behboudi

 Translated by: M.B. Khoshnevisan

***

Episode 8: A cup of coffee

He was coming towards us. Proud and intoxicated by a hollow victory. Happy with the commendation rank that rested on his shoulders. A deceived one who had received the rank from a rebel and a tyrant. He sipped his coffee over the corpses of those who had become fuel for the fire of war. I don't know if we were wretched people or blind, insight-less ones?!

On the slopes of Gordeh Mand, all of Saddam's oppressors had gathered. They wanted the mountain peak, but it was enough for that trap to be a symbol of a position for them. Various units of Saddam's army, with all their personnel and equipment, circumambulated the rock of that peak with degradation and humiliation, and sacrificed thousands of deprived individuals and the children of grieving mothers at its foot. According to the records of Al-Seddiq Hospital in the Diana region (Haj Omran), the number of these victims reached eighteen thousand within a few days. We, meaning the battalions of the 604th Infantry Brigade, were stationed on the mountain slopes, beneath the peak, and were closely monitoring the events. Our unit was weak, with crumbling foundations, and desertion and absence among its members were increasingly rampant.

Confidential news reached us. This type of news had become widespread and common in the army. They said: "Brigade Staff General Mahmoud Hammadi Amer, this daring and reckless man, had made a pact with his comrades of the Fifth Corps and the brigade commanders to raise the cup of Arabic coffee on the peak of Gordeh Mand, which was under the control of the Islamic forces."

Dark days and murky nights passed, much like the obscure and bleak future of this commander. Until a fierce battle broke out. This battle lasted for more than two weeks, and finally, he and his forces reached that peak. The Islamic forces left the peak so that this vile man could fulfill some of his wicked desires and find fleeting pleasure in them for a short while.

The days and months came and went; nine months. 

The Islamic forces returned to the summit of Gordeh Mand on an extremely cold winter night, while all the valleys and communication routes were covered in snow, and the mountains, like white tents, stood out in those remote areas. 

The countdown for the operation of the Iranian forces began on a moonlit night, just before dawn.

A group armed with the weapon of belief and faith, on February 3, 1987, confidently advanced from the restricted area toward a passage they had just opened moments before. The full account of the operation was as follows. 

At night, one of the guards shouted: 

"Stop..." 

The group stopped with complete confidence and composure. 

"Who are you?"

One of them responds in Arabic with an Iraqi accent: "We are your brothers from the Demolition Battalion of the Division!" 

Having heard this phrase so many times, the guard is reassured and allows them to enter.

The demolition battalion of the division enters! Under the moonlight, they begin an operation that will soon evoke a sense of wonder and amazement in everyone. This battalion confronts two brigades of Iraqi forces. These two brigades were the 604th Infantry Brigade, which was concentrated on and around the summit, and the 72nd Infantry Brigade, which was positioned on the front line and behind the embankments.

Before the dawn breaks, those stationed on the front lines and behind the embankments flee from the advance of the Islamic forces. 

As the golden sun rises from the depths of the warm horizon, columns of fully supplied vehicles and reinforcements arrive. At the head of the column, bulldozers advanced, followed by tanks. 

Before sunset, the heroes of the battalion's demolition division, holding flags triumphantly, position themselves on the summit of Gordeh Mand; their casualties did not exceed the count of fingers on one hand. 

The difference between the defending forces and the attacking forces was like the distinction between the futile ideas of the infidels and the clear, truthful verses. 

Thus, the cup of coffee shatters on the bloody rocks, and the medals of disgrace and bloodstained defeat fall from it.

To be continued …