SABAH (25)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami
Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

2020-9-1

SABAH (25)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami

Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

Published by Soore Mehr Publishing Co.

Persian Version 2019

Thanks God! They were frightened by the blast waves but were unharmed. Mahnaz’s sister was a beautiful girl with long blond straight hair, which were down her waist. Although the poor girl was frightened and shaking, but she kept saying to her sister: “those men can see my hair. I could not cover myself.”

Mahnaz hugged and caressed her. I tied my chador under my chin and gave her my scarf and helped her wear it. When Mahnaz’s father felt better, he left the girls in the mosque and went to their area to see what had happened.

I left the mosque. I wanted to go to Mosadegh hospital to see if there is anything I can do to help. I helped the nurses with the transportation of the injured ones and returned to the mosque. I could not stay in one place. On my way back, I saw a Jeep stopped at the Governorate. Two people were sitting in the Jeep. I asked one of the soldiers who was standing outside the Governorate: “Whose Jeep is this?” he answered:” it belongs to Bani Sadr. These two are his bodyguards. He is in a meeting.”[1]

I did not have a good feeling about Bani Sadr. Although I was young and did not have much experience but I could feel the intentional ignorance of Bani Sadr towards the events in Khorramshahr. Since long ago, the Corps members had informed Bani Sadr about the border movements but every time he had answered: “we will address it.” What action was taken?! They delayed the actions so much that Saddam could arrange his military forces and attack our country. What about now? Why didn’t he give order to some planes to target Iraqi artillery?!

I returned to the mosque. I asked those in the mosque: “what is going on?”

Everybody was aware of Bani Sadr’s visit to Khorramshahr. One of the young people said: “nothing! Bani Sadr has promised to send Ghouchan’s artillery to Khorramshahr in the next three days!”

It could not be any funnier than this. I started laughing; a nervous and meaningful laugh. I said: “is he making fun of himself or us? Either he doesn’t understand anything or he is pretending to be a fool! By the time the Ghouchan’s artillery arrives in Khorramshahr from a thousand kilometers away, there will be nothing left! It was already five days and he had just remembered to recommend Ghouchan’s artillery’ move?! Why can’t he send four planes from Dezfoul air base to bombard the Iraqi forces near Khorramshahr?!”

Nahid, whose family name I do not remember, was one of the supporters of Bani Sadr and when she heard me, she turned red like a pomegranate and rushed towards me saying:

• Ms. Sabbah! Friends in the kitchen say that Bani Sadr wanted to fight with Dariush method. First he will let the enemy enter Iran then they will siege them from all angles and destroy them!

I responded: “if we had a strong army and were more equipped from military point of view, we could say that but after the Nojeh coup and the empty bases and borders, what does a siege inside the borders mean!”

Nahid said nothing anymore. In that situation, she could not defend Bani Sadr any further. Most of our friends working in the kitchen felt grudge against Bani Sadr’s meaningless speeches.

 On the third day of autumn, auntie Maryam and Amoo Hejab left. At night, in the mosque, the news of the war was going around. Shalamcheh[2] and Hodood[3] police stations were seized, Dezh garrison was sieged and the oil stocks were exploding. Until the end of the third day, meaning the previous night, the enemy had progressed invasion and was five kilometers away from Khorramshahr. It was stationed behind the river and flood dam of Arayez[4] and was in process of positioning its forces in the region. It had progressed to the road police of Khorramshahr today. This meant that the city was on siege and falling. If we did not get help, we were not sure what would happen to Khorramshahr and its citizens.

I met Zeynab Khanoum at the mosque. She was a Ghassaleh[5] and worked in Jannat Abad. She was tall and brunette. During the last one, two days I had seen her coming to the mosque. She took food for herself and two, three others who worked with her in Jannat Abad.

Those people who had stayed in the city, had glue taped the windows of their houses in X shapes so that the glasses would not fall on their heads when there is an explosion. During the first one two days, we had electricity. But from the third day on, we had water and electricity on and off. We were confused. Nobody gave us any proper and correct update on the current situation. We did not know what the Corps was doing. The last news that we had heard from Amoo Hejab was correct and the Corps had withdrawn from Shalamcheh and were stationed in Momeni police station. Those gathered in the mosque needed care. We did not have enough food.  We did not know how to provide breakfast, lunch and dinner for these people. We could not last long in this situation. If we did not come up with a solution, people would get into fight in the next one two days.

Each family had to figure out a way to provide for its dinner and lunch and breakfast. We bought some things to eat from a few shops, which were in Seyf Bazar. Most of the people of Khorramshahr had brought their animals and donated them to the displaced and homeless people. Every day they killed some of the animals and made food for the people in the mosque.

An unequal fight had begun. The city was under the heavy artillery of the enemy. My family had decided to stay and we stayed in Jameh mosque. It was time to use all I had learnt until that day. All lessons I had learnt from rescue classes to meetings and discussions on religion and beliefs in Islamic Advocacy Organization. It was time to operationalize all those slogans; it was time to defend Islam even with bare hands. If we were to stay in the city, I had to have the best and highest output. I talked about this with Elaheh and Mahnaz. We all had the same idea. We had to help the defenders of our city even if our help was little. We formed a three-member rescue team in the city.

During the first one two days, if we saw injured people in the city, we would find a vehicle and take them to the hospital but with the primary facilities that Mr. Khalili had brought to the mosque, we could bring the injured to the mosque and, if needed, send them to the hospital. We decided to transfer the injured to the mosque and if their wounds could not be treated with the primary treatment, then we would take them to the hospital.

From that day on, with each blast that happened around the mosque, Elaheh, Mahnaz, and I tried to be the first ones to reach the location; from Milanian avenue, Ferdowsi avenue and Imam Khomeini avenue to Seyf Bazar, Safa Bazar, Chehel Metri avenue and Ordibehesht square. When there was no explosion, we stayed in the mosque and did whatever we could; chores such as sweeping the mosque, washing the dishes and distributing food.

On the fifth day of autumn, Fars Jihad, headed by Mr. Jazayeri, sent food supplies through seven eight trucks to Khorramshahr. The supplies were delivered to the mosque directly. People helped us dismount the supplies. It included nuts, dry bread, rice, cheese and watermelon. They put the food supplies in the staircase of the mosque leading to the roof top to be used in the coming days. There was a movement in the mosque with the arrival of the trucks. When we felt that others are thinking about us, we were more energetic.

We had just finished dismounting the trucks that injured were brought in. Quiver had hit the leg. Khalil Najar started taking the quiver with forceps very gently. He rotated the forceps inside the wound so that its peak could touch the quiver and drag it out. During this process, the injured was in deep pain and sweat was dropping from his/her forehead, but he/she was so patient that did not scream and moan and was just saying “God is great”.

The scene tore my heart apart. I could not understand how Khalil could do it. I just wanted this procedure to be over as quickly as possible. After dragging out the quiver, Khalil Najar did some stitching and after a few moments, the face of the injured was much calmer.

Little by little, individuals such as Nahid Ahan Koub, Mohammad Reza and Nader’s sister who were members of the Corps and Alireza Ahan Koub who was from the reserve members of the Corps and their daughter-in-law Esmat Jan Bozorgi joined us. At that time, Nahid was a student of math in Jondi Shahpour university of Ahwaz. She was a tall and thin girl with beautiful eyes. I met Belgheys Malekian in the mosque. Belgheys was six years older than me. She was a teacher in primary school. She did not talk much and was very calm. Overall, she had positive energy. In that situation when everybody was nervous and confused, Belgheys was very calm and smiling; sitting beside her and chatting was pleasant. She could convey her calmness to you.

I saw one of my classmates, Ashraf Farhadi, there. We were in the same class at fourth grade. Ashraf was a succulent girl too; full of energy with a smiling face. She was petite but acted very fast and smart. She introduced me to her cousin, Zohreh. Zohreh was five six years younger than us. She was tall and thin. She had big eyes that made her face beautiful and attractive. I saw her and Ashraf together in the mosque for a few days. Although Zohreh was a calm and shy girl and was quite young, she never acted childish but with serenity.

Under the supervision of trusted individuals of the mosque, meaning Mr. Mesbahi who was one of the biggest textile traders of Khorramshahr, Mr. Soleimani, Haj Agha Safa and Mr. Farrokhi, the teahouse and kitchen of the mosque started operation formally. My mom and some other women had turned a corner of the mosque into a kitchen. My mom was in charge of the teahouse and Shahnaz and Fouziyeh along with a young girl called Mansoureh and her mother were busy in the kitchen.

To be continued…