Seyyed of Quarters 15 (12)

Memories of Iranian Released POW, Seyyed Jamal Setarehdan

2016-12-31

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

Behind the earthwork, we flattened somewhere with the help of soldiers to play football at the leisure hours. Two or three days later, the soldiers of company set two rods with distance and tied a rope at the end of each one, and then they were divided in two groups and began playing volleyball. Commander of company played very well. He was agile and served the ball and played the spike-ball well.

Captain Abolreza Ra’afat was the deputy of tank battalion and since the duty of company-2 was to be the agent of tank Battalion, he always came to our platoon. Night and day did not matter for him. He checked the condition of region with binocular and gave necessary recommendations to the commanders of the companies and platoons. Most of the time he came to NazarAbadi’s trench and sometimes accompanied by him went forward to inspect the ambush trenches. Company-2 had two ambush trenches which were for watching Iraqis’ movements from about fifty meters ahead of the company. One of the ambush trenches was located between two hills and since its surrounding was flat, two watchers needed for watching. The other one was on the one of the grooves of Aghdagh Mountain and there was a trickle which flowed near the trench. The Bazideraz heights with 1100 meters altitude and 30Km long is located along the 35Km road of Sarpol-e-zahab to Qasr-e Shirin which was a strategic location from the beginning of the war. Situated on the Bazideraz, we could see the city of Khanaqin in Iraq, and Qasr-e Shirin, Sarpol-e-zahab, and Gilan-e Gharb.

Captain Ra’afat had served in many places and sometimes spoke of his memories. He said his son-in-law, who was a clergyman, and his brother, who was a guard, died martyr in the war. Nazarabadi’s handwriting was good. Captain Ra’afat had told him: "I should bring pen and paper and give it to you to write my will with your good handwriting."

One day in the afternoon, Iraqis fired the location of the company. We mutually shot them. My RPG-assistant had arranged the grenades by my side. I loaded the RPG from the muzzle and fired Iraqi’s earthworks and trenches. After shooting the ninth grenade, I was climbing down the earthwork when my foot hit a stone and I fell down. My right arm was in lot pain. A few minutes later, the Iraqis stopped firing and the region fell silent again.

My arm’s pain increased little by little. I was taken to the 501hospital in Kermanshah with Toyota. One of the doctors examined me and said my arm was dislocated. They reset it and I was discharged two days later. I got leave from the company and went home. I could not move my right hand too much. My mother realized it gradually. She insisted that I have got shot and don’t say it them. With swearing, I convinced her I have no problem.

I bought a clay pitcher from Kermanshah when I came back from vacation. I wanted to pour water into it to stay cool. I got off the bus in Eslamabad-e Gharb to dropped in on that old man who had a stall near the road. We ate food and he brought me a cup of tea. I was careful not to break the pitcher along the way. When I arrived to the company, soldiers looked at the pitcher in surprise. One of them said: "Seyyed, what’s the use of pitcher for you?"

• Do not rush, you’ll understand.

Sometimes along with food or in afternoons, a half block of ice was given to each trench. We didn’t have any place to keep it, so it thawed two or three hours later. I covered the pitcher with wet sacks. Then I filled it with water and placed it in the corner of the trench. Little by little the news began to spread that Seyyed have cool water. I tried to keep the sack wet, so the water in pitcher was cool even without ice. On that warm weather, our head and face were severely in sweat. At this times, it was not seen any movement and all tried to arrive to the trenches or in the shade. I had sat in the shade in front of my trench when a soldier drenched in sweat stood in front of me.

• Agha Seyyed, do you have any water?
• I have some water inside the trench, go into and drink.

I heard he said, "Peace be upon Hussein," after he drank the water.

When he came out of the trench, said: "May God forgive the sins of your father and mother. I was perishing. It cooled my heart."

By sunset, they brought the bodies of two martyrs from the front line. They were reconnaissance officers who entered the minefield on the way back. When you saw their faces, thought they have slept, but their body had been badly injured from the chest down with the explosion of mines.

***

In February 1988, I got a letter from the family. I was happy when saw all of them are asking about my condition, but suddenly was drowned deep in sadness. They had written that Muhammad Khabazahsany has martyred. I remembered the days when we both together sang: "Kufa mosque, to be witness on the Day of Judgment / I who are more innocent, are more oppressed than all ..."

One day his father had told him, "My son, Mohammed, don’t go to the front. I want to marry you off." And Mohammad had said: "my father, don’t remember me anymore."

After a few days, I went to the staff of division when I had gone to Kermanshah to follow something up. It was the first months of 1988[1]. When I returned, heard they have captured an Iraqi soldier. I went and saw him. He was a stout Iraqi. His clothes had been changed and he had been dressed with an army shirt and pants. The pants didn’t fit him. It was very loos-fitting and he had to take its waist with his hand. The fear was seen in his eyes and he turned his look from one face to another one. He wasn’t calm and was embarrassed. He looked at us beseechingly. I went to the trench and brought my extra belt and gave it to him. I gestured him to buckle the belt. I spilt a glass of cool water from the pitcher for him. While his hand shook, he took the glass from my hand. He both drank the water and spilt it on his clothes. We all did not know Arabic and did not understand what he says. I went after one of soldiers who came from Ahvaz. He knew Arabic.

That soldier talked with him and said: "he said he had come with several soldiers for reconnaissance last night. He has hidden himself out to be a refugee."

I told him: "Tell him don’t scare. Also tell him he has come to a good place."

The Iraqi smiled gently. An hour later, some ones came from the division and took him.

A few days later, I became aware that Iraqis aircrafts have bombed Ardabil[2]. I was worried about my family. I went to brigade location and phoned Ardabil. They said two aircrafts dropped bombs around the Yasavol neighborhood around noon. Several people had martyred and several had wounded. A piece of bomb shrapnel and rocket had fallen inside the yard of my aunt's house.

To be continued…