Seyyed of Quarters 15 (27)

Memories of Iranian Released POW, Seyyed Jamal Setarehdan

2017-5-1

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

One of warm nights of summer, we had left the windows open. It was late at night when one of the guardians came behind the window. Perhaps he’s going to be amused with prisoners like some of guardians until his three-hours-watching finished quickly. Maybe he wanted to find some wrongs in prisoners and show himself to his superiors. Some of them knew members of our group and in this case, we were trying not to involve ourselves. The guardian said to one of Arabic-speaking prisoners, "Tell them what’s the meaning of ‘man’?"

On behalf of prisoners, the interpreter answered, "No ‘man’ exists here!"

It was like a sledge-hammer was knocked on my head. I could not help myself. As if two ones took my hands and helped me to stand up. I rose and told the guardian: "Let me tell you what the meaning of being man is."

Arabic-speaker prisoner translated my words and the guardian nodded. I said, "Tell him all prisoners who are here or have been martyred by you are man; the men who are here because of defending their homeland and honor."

The expression of Iraqi soldier’s face changed as hearing the translation. All prisoners were quiet and had turned toward us. "Translate this poem for him." I told the interpreter, "you will be a man, if aren’t proud of earning wealth/ you will be a man, if aren’t mean of being degradation/ it’s not manhood to beat a disabled/ you will be a man, if help a disabled."

I had been offended by interpreter too. Making him understand my upset, I said: "You don’t understand its meaning. I explain the meaning and you translate it. Tell him ‘man’ is a person who helps disabled ones, but unfortunately I can’t see a man among them. The man doesn’t hit the one whose hands have tied. The man gives a helpless and disabled refuge and doesn’t beat him up with cable and whip. Unless he isn’t a man!"

The interpreter didn’t dare to translate my words. The guardian looked at interpreter’s face and said: "What’s he saying?"

The interpreter still was afraid. I said to the guardian, "Sir! He doesn’t want to translate."

With guardian’s gesture, the interpreter translated. "Ok, I’ll make you understand tomorrow morning." The guardian lost his temper and said.

When the doors were closed, didn’t open until morning, when they came and counted us. After being counted in the morning, that soldier along with two other guardians dragged me out and beat me up so much that I had no energy anymore. After having breakfast, I went toward toilet limpingly. A few people were in the queue. One of the Iraqi guardians was a fifty or sixty old man one of whose leg hobbled a little bit. He had sat down in a chair next to the queue and watched the prisoners. Adel Varqaee was also in the line. Turning to the Iraqi guardian, he said, "Sir! When we’ll go to Iran, God willing?"

The guardian said: "very soon. When all of you perform prayers!"

Adel said that every time he asked ‘when we’ll go to Iran?’ the guardian answered the same.

It was my turn and I went into toilet. I was brushing when my toothbrush broke in tow. I found a piece of barbed wire in the ground. I warmed two broken ends of my toothbrush over the Aladdin heater, which was used in the winter. When the broken points of toothbrush were melted, I thrusted the barbed wire in them. It solidified when got cold. Now, I could use it for a while.

The next day, the water of camp was cut off. Perhaps something had happened in one of quarters and they wanted to punish everyone in this way. We cleaned ourselves with some pieces of our tattered clothes, when went to the toilet. Iraqis brought us drinking water by the sewage tanker of camp. It was hot and the water was dirty, but the intense of hot weather and thirst forced us to use that water. On the fourth day of punishment, a sparrow had no energy to fly because of the intensity of heat, so had sheltered in the shade under the porch of quarters when suddenly fell down. One of the prisoners picked up the sparrow and brought into quarters. There was a special place in the quarters where Iraqis placed TV. That day it was one of other quarters’ turn to use TV. That prisoner pour a little water into a small bowl and then put the sparrow and the bowl in TV place. The sparrow, which was now in the shade, drank water. Most of prisoners had stood and watched the scene. Little by little, the sparrow came to life and began fluttering, but as if wanted to stay there. After the sparrow drank water, that prisoner took him outdoor and let him to fly. Eight days later, they allowed us to re-use water.

The officer who had become the commander of camp-15, treated prisoners milder. I guessed he is Kurd and Shiite. I had not seen he ordered to beat anyone. We used stones instead of Turbah, but the guardians harassed and prevented us to carry them into quarters when they saw them in our hands. One day, the camp commander along with a few guardians came to the camp for inspection, when it was darkening. They gathered all prisoners in the ground. The camp commander took a look around. "If one of the soldiers and prisoners annoyed you," he spoke of discipline and said, "Stand up and explain. Don’t be afraid, nobody hurts you. Is there something you want? Do you have any demand?"

One of the interpreters translated his words. Although I was not sure he kept his words or not, but took the plunge and stood up and said: "Since we have no Turbah, carry stones into quarters. But the guardians didn’t allow and punished us."

Afshin Davari also raised his hand. "Sir! We are Shiite and need Turbah for performing prayer." He got up and said.

The camp commander put his hand on his eye and said: "Tomorrow I'll bring you Turbah from Najaf."

Lotfollah was a sixty or seventy-years-old old man who was called ‘uncle Lotfollah’ by prisoners of quarters-14. "I have a remark too, sir." he stood up too and said.

The commander pointed him to speak. "I am old and have to go to the toilet at night." Uncle Lotfollah remarked, "Let me take a box into quarters and use it."

The commander told the guardians who stood around him, "prisoners of each quarters can carry a few boxes inside."

The guardians saluted and the camp commander went. They sent us to the quarters after his leaving. An hour later, Seyyed Mohammad, intelligence officer, with Seyyed Karim and another soldier came behind the window and said, "Where’s Afshin?"

Afshin Davari stood up. "Why did you say the commander you want Turbah?" Seyyed Mohammad asked.

"He himself asked us to name everything we need." Afshin answered.

"Come here and take your head forward." Seyyed Mohammad said.

Afshin hold his head in front of window. One of the soldiers griped Afshin’s collar and Seyyed Karim slapped Afshin’s ear with a slipper; and Seyyed Mohammad said, "First you should ask permission, and then, if we did, you could say your demand to the commander."

I was lucky not being punished by them. Seyyed Karim was a thin guardian who had no proper reason. He was fickle and often hit one of the prisoners whose name was Shahram. Shahram was about twenty-four years old and wore glasses. I do not know what the guardians saw in his face that beat him up from time to time. One day, Shahram’s glasses broke during punishment, but Adel fixed it.

Two buckets was given to our quarters to be used for urinating. We were many in numbers and still had less room for sleeping. I volunteered to sleep next to these buckets. My friends did not consent, but I convinced them that maybe a little more room to be provide for the rest in this way. At night, two or three ones came in turn and urinated. I turned away lest they got embarrassed.

To be continued…