Seyyed of Quarters 15 (18)

Memories of Iranian Released POW, Seyyed Jamal Setarehdan

2017-2-11

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

A few days had passed, and I had seen a few of the prisoners sat together and talked. One of them was Akbar Karami, deputy of Meghdad brigade. They all walked together and exchanged some words when we were taken outdoors to take in fresh air. Then, little by little, I found out that Mahdi Palang, Azizi, who was from Kangavar, and Heydari, one of commanders of Kerend-e Gharb battalions, were friends of Karami. Azizi was an old man and religious. He always repeated the name of God as a prayer. I realized they are trying to control and guide other prisoners.

The captive, who protested about the quantity of breakfast and lunch, gradually became ill and fell full length in a corner. He became so bad that Iraqis took him to the hospital.

The sun in Tikrit was sharp and burning. I went once to the end of ground and when I returned, my head became hot. I sat in the shade of the wall of quarters. Two or three ones also came and stood beside me. One of the guards came and said: "walk."

I said, "It’s very hot. We want to sit in shadow."

He said something with a mischievous smile. The interpreter translated, "he says that the doctor has recommended it is ok for you. Come on, take a walk!"

The day after that prisoner was taken to the hospital, one of the guards said he has died in the hospital.

Days passed consecutively. The prisoner’s spirit was not good at all. Many of them stared at the walls; some was indifferent and some did not know whether to pray with unclean clothes or not, due to poor hygienic conditions. I prayed, and sank into deep thinking; thinking about how we can change our situation to our advantage.

The same night, I saw the head (monitor) of quarters put off his shirt. An eagle with wide open wings had been tattooed on his back; one wing on his right shoulder and the other one on his left shoulder. Seeing the condition of quarters and prisoners’ look, I could guess they are afraid of him. When I asked about him, they said his name is Davood. They said he has lived in the Shoosh neighborhood of Tehran. He did not pray, and sometimes called the other prisoners with bad words.

One morning, the guards came to count us as usual. We queued and sat down to be counted. Davood stood next to queues and said ‘don’t move.’ One of prisoners made a little movement. The head (monitor) of quarters became angry and shouted: "Didn’t tell you no move?"

After the Iraqis went out, we ate breakfast and then went out for taking in the fresh air in the ground. I was walking when saw an AA battery has fallen by the barbed wires. A sudden thought came to my mind. I looked at Iraqi soldiers. Then, under the pretext of scratching my foot I bent and picked it up. A little away, I knocked it to the ground and with a great struggle I could break its jacket and put its carbon in my pocket. It took two or three days to be able to collect papers and cardboards which were brought by wind from here and there; and wrote Tawassul and Ashura prayers on them with carbon of that battery.

The hand skin of Mahdi Palang was peeled off for a while. He told his problem to one of the guards. The guard took him to see another one. He returned half an hour later. I asked him, "What happened?"

He answered laughing, "Nothing. They slashed my palms with their cables and said peeling skin isn’t a disease."

I walked with him and when we came together with others, I shared the issue of prayers I had written. It was approved. From that day on, I gave the prayers to those who worked in the kitchen to distribute them among the prisoners of other quarters. So, the prayers changed hands among the prisoners of plot-2. Little by little, we spoke about religious edicts, faith, and beliefs with prisoners and wanted them to observe cleanliness and not to throw rubbish in the quarters as much as possible to prevent the spread of disease.

Adel Varqaii was from Tehran and one of company commanders of battalion-184, division-81 in Kermanshah, who had been captured along with a few others on July 22, 1988 after several days of wandering in the mountains and plains. One day at noon, when I and a few of prisoners was busy praying, two guards came into the quarters and beat us with cables and batons. After they went, I got up to perform my prayer. Adel said: "Seyyed, they beat you."

I said, "Trust in God."

Adel’s parents came from Baku[1] and had immigrated to Tehran through the Ardabil after the invasion of Russian to Iran in 1941. And Adel was born and had raised in Tehran. Like Davood Amiri, he was the head (monitor) of quarters too, and many times prevented Davood’s strictness; but Davood occasionally kicked up a row and came to grips with others without any reason. When the guards saw how he treated with captives, exchanged something with each other and laughed. Prisoners had lost their hope and did not want to row with him. Adel was a handyman. Hani, the electrician of camp looked for Adel, if the power cut off or the fan and TV devices in the guards’ room broke down. Adel went with him, did his job, and came back. That was a good opportunity for him to access places where we couldn’t go.

One of those days, the interpreter and Davood disputed and they shouted to each other. That night Davood had sat down and sank deeply into thinking. After much thinking, I went to speak with him. When I said hello, he looked me up and down and said, "What?"

I put my trust in God and said, "Let me sit beside you?"

I didn’t wait for his answer and sat down next to him. A few ones who had sat around looked at us. I started with explaining the hard condition of captivity and after referring to the good temper and behavior of the Prophet and Imams with people, I said, "If you're a chivalrous, your actions aren’t chivalrously. If you’re a Sheikh, again, this is not the ideology and way of sheikhs’ life. If you want to be a chivalrous, you should help these poor men who have been stuck with these evils in this foreign land. Not that you hurt them more than Iraqis, but your actions just pleased the Iraqis. You are an Iranian and history has shown that we Iranians always backed up each other and made a stand for oppression." 

He didn’t say anything and just listened in silence. Suddenly, I saw tears gathered in his eyes. He got up out of blue. All prisoners turned toward us. He said aloud: "All gather, line up and then sit down."

It was unexpected for everyone. I got up and just looked. Davood moved ahead and addressed all prisoners: "any of you who have ever been offended by me, please forgive me. I repent and try to be a good man."

Then he turned to me and said: "Seyyed! I don’t know how to pray and as far as I can remember, I’ve not fasted and prayed. You teach me?"

I said with a laugh: "I’m in your service, why not, I'll teach you."

He sat down and said: "Seyyed! Please start now."

I began teaching performing prayer to the head (monitor) from that night. Two or three days later, he learned it with much effort and interest. His behavior had been good with the prisoners of quarters. In the first few days, he performed prayer from time to time and said he was delayed previous days and not said at the proper time. Davood had changed and with these actions he had drawn a red line on his past behaviors. Iraqis who had noticed changes in Davood's mental state, came to the quarters and bombarded him with lots of questions. Little by little, they shouted aloud. Davood cried out, "What do you want from me. I don’t want to be the head (monitor), I don’t want to do things you ask me, I can’t."

The guards who had become anger by his words, fell on him and began knocking and beating him up with their cables. He didn’t say anything and had stood silent in front of them. Suddenly, Adel Varqaii lost his temper. He got up, roared, and punched the wall. The guards scared and stepped aside. Adel pointed to them and said, "It’s a pity I’m just a prisoner and have my hands tied, otherwise I would punch you. You’re not Moslem? Why do you hurt him?"

The guards who couldn’t bear his words, rushed to and beat him. From that day on, the guards came unnecessarily and thrashed Davood with their cable and baton. When we objected, they said we are missing prisoners and until the Red Cross has not seen us and has not sent our names to Iran, they can give us any hell they want.

The situation quieted down by and by and the guards didn’t follow it and left Davood to himself. During this time, Davood performed his prayers, had been friends with other prisoners and helped them in their works.

Sometimes, some prisoners referred to Akbar Karami to ask about religious issues and edicts. Karami sent them to me and said, "Go ask Seyyed. Whatever he says, it’s true."

Little by little, I became popular as ‘Agha Seyyed’ among prisoners. When they were asked ‘Which one?’ they said, ‘Seyyed Jamal, Seyyed of quarters 15.’

To be continued…