Seyyed of Quarters 15 (35)
Memories of Iranian Released POW, Seyyed Jamal Setarehdan
2017-6-28
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
Chapter 6
Some news is coming
Like Karami, Mehdi Palang became known as a result of betrayal. It had been said he is commander of tank battalion. Iraqis were sensitive about the members of our group previously, but now they were more careful and had Mehdi Palang under observation. Finally, he was taken to the interrogation room. This goings and comings was increased, until he said one day, when he came from the interrogation room, "I got tired, Seyyed. I want to confess. They said to perform ablution, put your hand on the Quran and swear."
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If you confess, they’ll kill you.
"What do I do? False swearing?" he asked sadly.
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Don’t think about it, go and swear falsely. Their Quran is the same Quran on the Muawiyah’s spear and it isn’t more than a deceit.
The next day, Mehdi Palang went and swore and Iraqis didn’t followed it any more.
I was walking in the ground when for a moment I saw something which had not seen during captivity. I returned and once again peeped the inside of a barrel, which was used as a dustbin by Iraqis. Right, it was just a piece of Lavash bread into it. I was so happy I did not know what to do. It was like one of my lifetime wishes had been fulfilled. The breads which were given to the prisoners by Iraqis were something like palm-sized loaves which Iraqis called them Samoon; and seeing Lavash bread there was new to me. I guessed one of the soldiers has brought it from his home after returning from vocation. I looked around carefully. The guardians were busy with their work. I picked the piece of bread swiftly and put it under my shirt. I went into quarters and said to my friends: "I want to show you something interesting that you don’t see a long time!"
"What?" one of them said.
Showing the Lavash bread, they said with wonder, "Where did you get this?"
I told them. We looked at it a little and then each of us ate a small piece of it. This small piece of Lavash connected us to our past memories; to queues for buying bread in the alleys and streets, to queues of men and women with their flowery Chador, to Abgoosht, and to a morsel of bread and cheese and edible herbs.
Jahangir Amiri, the commander of company in which Adel Varqaee served, had fallen sick with dysentery. He wasn’t in a good state at all. He had called Adel and asked him to tell other prisoners not to betray each other for the sake of a single cigarette and a meal. He had asked for a single cigarette. "I didn’t have any." Adel said, "I spoke with one of Shiite soldiers and asked him if he gives me a single cigarette? He asked, ‘whom you want for?’ I told him my friend is sick, I need it for him."
The Iraqi soldier had given him a pack of cigarettes instead of a single one. Adel had lit the cigarette and given to Amiri. "Amiri puffed three times and died in front of my eyes." Adel said.
Some prisoners had wrapped him into a blanket and handed over to the Iraqis. In these cases, we could not do anything else. We reported these issues to the Iraqis, but they did not pay much attention; so, like a flower, our friends withered in front of our eyes, broke from the stem, and fell on the ground.
The last days of the winter of 1990, one of Iraqi newspapers had printed a picture of Saddam in its first page. Saddam had worn a black overcoat and hat and had a gun in his hand. A guardian had laid the newspaper on the ground and looked elsewhere. Adel, who had leaned the wall next to the guardian, took the opportunity to step on Saddam’s picture and tore it. The guardian picked up the paper quickly and took Adel to his room when he saw it.
A few minutes later, Adel came out of guardian’s room. "Iraqi soldier told me, ‘I am a Shiite like you," he said, "If you don’t have mercy on yourself, do on me. Perhaps they don’t punish you, but give a hell to my wife and child. Because I know he is a fucking cruel man and you are Shiite, ignore it.’"
Because of his skill in repairing electrical appliances, Adel went here and there most of the times and brought news from other quarters every now and then. Once he had heard prisoners of one of quarters, who mostly were guards, have killed one of spies in the bathroom. The Iraqis had beaten prisoners up and wrapped the dead spy into a blanket and had taken.
It was three or four days before Nowruz and Ramadan began from 22nd March, 1990. It occurred to me to speak about fasting with guardians. After we were counted in the morning, I went to speak with one of guardians. I saluted and asked him to separate captives who were able to fast from those who couldn’t do it for various reasons. Therefore, we could eat our Iftar and Suhur timely and didn’t bother wounded and sick prisoners. The Iraqi guardian reported my request; they accepted it and gathered the captives who could not fast in one of quarters.
From the beginning of Ramadan, Iraqis gave our iftar before evening prayer and our Suhur at twelve o'clock at night. Although it was forbidden to open the door after counting us at night, they gave us Suhur at twelve o'clock at night because of Ramadan, and then closed the door. I stood by the window at sunsets to know the time of Iftar. By guessing and experiencing the sunsets on the other days, I found out when it was the time of Adhan. I announced the time of Adhan to prisoners and we all began eating our Iftar. I had asked the guardians permission to recite prayers and they didn’t interfere much with me during Ramadan. I recited the prayers and when reached to "O, God! Return home everyone who is away from homeland, O, God! Release every captive', I became agitated and could see this prayer is describing our circumstances.
With the enthusiasm of a month of fasting and praying, we embraced and congratulated each other in Eid al-Fitr day. Some Iraqi guardians looked at us with envy and regret. Maybe they were upset that had not fasted, while we had done it in a difficult situation.
To be continued…
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