The 371st Night of Memories – 1

Compiled by Iranian Oral History Website
Translated by Mandana Karimi

2025-10-10

The 371st Night of Memories program was held on August 28, 2025, in the Sooreh Hall of the Art Center (Hozeh Honari). In this program Ahmad Saghafi, Mohammad-Reza Golshani, and Vahid Faraji told their memories. The evening was hosted by Davood Salehi.

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The first narrator of the program, Ahmad Saghafi, was born in June 1957. He served at the front for two years and took part in five operations; finally, in 1983 he was taken captive during Operation Kheibar. He spent seven years of his life in Iraqi camps. In introducing him, the host said: Mr. Saghafi became acquainted during captivity with the late Haj Agha Ali Akbar Aboutorabi, and that acquaintance developed into deep companionship and friendship. Years before the Arba‘in pilgrimage became globally known, he had walked on foot with the late Aboutorabi to Qom, Mashhad, and the Iran-Iraq border. After his release he was responsible for building about two thousand housing units for released prisoners. Today he is an active mountaineer who has reached high peaks such as Damavand and Alam-Kuh.

The narrator began his memories like this: The late Haj Agha Aboutorabi’s chest was a casket of the prisoners’ secrets. He had a uniquely dignified character. His simplicity and modesty had placed him in the hearts of all the captives. One of his regular programs in the camp was to give half-hour sessions to prisoners. Every day he would speak privately with sixteen people. Those sessions were so precious that they booked their turns weeks in advance. The remarkable feature of those meetings was his silence; for twenty-eight minutes he would be all ears while a prisoner opened his heart. Only in the final two minutes, with a few short sentences, would he restore calm to that person’s soul.

He had an astonishing wisdom in analyzing matters. I remember one night a prisoner attacked another with a blade. The next morning, Haj Agha spent his entire time reconciling them. Later he told me that the attacker had said to him: “My father used to give us snake meat to eat.” Haj Agha believed that his spite and ferocity were effects of that illicit morsel. In this way he taught us how food can influence a person’s fate and character.

This released prisoner also noted: during captivity everyone placed their secrets in late Aboutorabi’s chest of secrets. At that time, I had vowed that after my release I would walk on foot to Mashhad. Immediately after my freedom I went to him and announced my intention to go. The next morning, before the sun had risen, he came to me and our spiritual journey began. Midway through the way, with the kindness and delicacy that were his hallmark, he explained that because of his commitments in the parliament he could only accompany me four days a week. Although at first that offer felt burdensome to me, out of respect for his mentorship and status I accepted. From that day on we walked to fulfill the vow on Saturdays, Mondays, Thursdays, and Fridays.

The narrator continued: Another memory I will never forget goes back to Operation Kheibar. Our mission was to cross a deep canal and reach the enemy line. The battalion commander, Mallak, was Brother Hashemi — a short, somewhat stocky man but as brave as the whole world. The enemy had set up two machine guns at the only approach to stop anything that moved. As the reconnaissance operator I marched right beside Hashemi at the head of the 170-man column.

With the first enemy flare, heavy fire began. The forces dropped to the ground. The enemy machine gunners fired bursts of one hundred rounds and then paused 3 to 5 seconds to reload. In that moment between death and life, Hashemi would, with composure, shout “Allahu Akbar” (God is the greatest) and rise to his feet. Seeing his determined face in those moments was for me like a great divine gift. Following his lead, all 170 men would rise and run toward the enemy. This was repeated ten times in fifteen minutes. His courage was so pure that his deputy, Mr. Dehghan, despite all his bravery, could not bring himself to suggest anything or speak.

On the tenth advance, suddenly something invisible sped past me and struck Hashemi. He fell silently to the ground. I searched his body immediately; there was no sign of wound or blood. In astonishment and disbelief, I could not understand how he had been martyred. After his martyrdom, Mr. Dehghan took command, disabled the two machine guns with an RPG, and the enemy line was broken.

But the image that is forever imprinted in my mind happened the next day. Around eleven in the morning I saw Mr. Dehghan, his face tired and dusty, single-handedly operating a loader to clear the way for the troops to pass. It was obvious he had not slept or eaten for nights. He was chewing a dry military biscuit with difficulty. I found a can of pumpkin on the ground; I opened it and fed him spoonful by spoonful. When I saw the steadfastness and self-sacrifice on his face, tears involuntarily fell from my eyes. In that moment I felt with my whole being the true meaning of courage and command.

To be continued …