Seyyed of Quarters 15 (10)

Memories of Iranian Released POW, Seyyed Jamal Setarehdan

2016-12-18

Seyyed of Quarters 15

Memories of Iranian Released POW, Seyyed Jamal Setarehdan

Edited and Compiled by: Sassan Nateq

Tehran, Sooreh Mehr Publications Company

‎2016 (Persian Version)‎

Translated by: Zahra Hosseinian

Iraqis fired the region when they had nothing to do. One day I saw a newly-arrived soldier has stood in the center of battalion grounds, when Iraqis were shelling the region. Other soldiers had entrenched, but he looked around baffled. I ran out of the trench, took his hand and dragged him into my trench. "Don’t you see they are shelling?" I said.

He did not answer. Once again I said, "Do you want to kill yourself?"

He pointed to his ears and said: "What do you say?"

Iraqis shelling subsided little by little. I talked a bit with that soldier and found out he has hearing problem. He was also married. Married soldiers often were sent to army headquarters, which was a little far away from the staff, but he couldn’t submit his marriage and hearing loss documents to authorities; so, they had unwittingly sent him to the battalion. I reported his condition. He got a few days leave to bring his papers. I wrote down the list of required documents on a paper for him.

That night I should monitor and coordinate the posts and performance of watchers. I took them to their posts. One of trenches was on a big hill. One of Tehran soldiers was watching there. All watchers were ordered not to sleep and look surroundings with their undivided attention. When it darkened, I turned around the trench and from the front side, where the Iraqis had clear view, approached the trench slowly to test the watcher. Suddenly he aimed me. "This’s me." I said swiftly.

Two or three days passed and the soldier who had hearing problem went and came back. The staff authorities reviewed his papers. During their investigation, he was sent to the army headquarters. A few days later, they said the authenticity of his papers has been proved, when I asked, and sent him to the army headquarters to continue his service.

The afternoon of the day that halfـdeaf soldier had gone, it was gloomy weather. Gradually it clouded more and more. The rain began when it had been dark and little by little it intensified. The rain was accompanied by wind which caused the rain drops were pounded here and there strongly.

The next day noon, we were waiting for the car which brings us food. But that day there was no foodـcar. There was mud everywhere and traffic was hard. It was reported that the flood destroyed the bridge between army headquarters and the staff. The car had come but had stopped on the other side of the bridge. The muddy and rough water of river flowed under the bridge. One of the northern soldiers with swarthy-looking said: "I can swim across the river and bring the food."

The soldier swam to the other side of river, closed tightly the lid of food containers, put them one by one on his shoulder and brought. Water flow dragged him away and he came out of the water fifty or sixty meters away. After three hours he transported all the food containers, but was exhausted. The soldier’s self-sacrifice caused the company soldiers satisfied their hunger and however it had been late, they could ate their lunch. He was granted few days leave by battalion commander. After floodwaters subsided, the Jihad members came and fixed the bridge for temporary time.

I got fifteen days leave. From the edge of the road to the "Gur Sepid" village, you could ride any car; drivers usually did not ask money. But for the rest of the way you should pay. Vacation days were spent with my family house parties and my mother always said, "Eat much my son, you had hard time there; you're skin and bones."

I didn’t used to nag. In our house and in parties, I spoke about the company and the front as if we sleep there at ease and comfort. My mother had washed and ironed my clothes in the day I wanted to return. She filled a small pot with steamed rice and chicken and said, "you yourself know what I want to say… so, eat your food."

The buses stopped in Eslamabad-e Gharb. I got off the bus. An old man with a white beard caught my attention. He had a small stall near the road and sale tea. I bought two drinks from next stall. I sat down beside the old man who sale tea and opened the lid of my pot. I put one of the drinks in front of him and said, "Help yourself!"

We ate the food and the old man talked of Iraqis bombing and invasion. He said they ruined everything in their way brutality and did not have mercy on them. I wanted to ride the bus when he offered me a cup of tea with smile and said: "Freshly brewed, it’s enjoyable."

It was a few days the radio announced continuously that fighters had operations in Shalamcheh[1]. I said to myself: "Certainly, the base members and neighborhood boys come for the operations."

Those days, I went to the public health department in Qasr-e Shirin by motorcycle. It was located in the center of the city. The city was shelled too many times that you could see few saved places. The front tire of my motorcycle went flat as soon as I entered the public health department.

The body of one of martyrs had been laid down in front of the public health. It was under the sun. I jacked the motorcycle up. I dragged the body into the shadow of a Jeep Wagoneer which had been parked next to the public health. Javad was its driver and came from Tabriz. He came out of the public health department and wanted to ride the Jeep. Seeing the corpse, he said: "you brought it here?"

• It had been left under the sun. Do you know him?
• No. but I should take it to the army headquarters.
• So, I come with you too. My motorcycle has punctured.

We laid down the corpse in the rare bed of Jeep. Also, we placed my motorcycle beside it. I rode the motorcycle lest it fell down on the body; and said to Javad, "Drive a little bit slowly."

We were on our way when suddenly heard the explosion sound of a cannon ball. Javad scared and stepped on the gas. As the Jeep was accelerating, it came close I fall down on the body. I shouted: "Didn’t tell you to drive slowly. You’re going to kill me!"

He did not listen to me. Maybe he was in hurry. I looked at the corpse. A bullet or shrapnel had torn his abdomen and his viscera were visible. We reached to the bridge. Some time ago, flood had destroyed it. But Jihad members came two or three times and fixed it. It came close to fall into the river because of car shakings. I pulled myself toward the opposite side. But I could not control myself and fell flat on my face on the corpse. Although Javad gave me lots of hell that day, but I survived by one way or another. I fixed the flat tire in the garage of army headquarters and then went to the battalion.

To be continued…