Daughter of Sheena (46)

2015-8-29

Daughter of Sheena-46
Memories of Qadamkheyr Mohammadi Kanaan
Wife of Sardar Shaheed Haj Sattar Ebrahimi Hajir
Memory writer: Behnaz Zarrabizadeh
Tehran, Sooreh Mehr Publications Company, 2011 (Persian Version)
Translated by Zahra Hosseinian

The next day, as soon as Samad woke up for Morning Prayer, I did too. I always used to roll a little into bed until to be wide awake. Most of the time, I would stay at bed until Samad would pray and get ready to go out; but that day I got up early, performed my ablution and prayed with Samad. After Morning Prayer, Samad began wearing his uniform as always. “I wish you come for lunch like the first days.” I said.

He laughed and looked at me in a way that I laughed too. “You’ve missed your Haj Agha, right?!”

I said: “Of course I’ve missed him, but if you come at noon, I’ll be less homesick.”

He opened the door, winked and said: “Lady Qadamkheyr! Again you’re just acting like spoiled child.”

I took my Chador and put it into prayer rug. I got up and went into the kitchen when Samad went. Other women had come too. I prepared breakfast. Then I awaken my kids. We ate our breakfast. I washed cups and then I sent kids downstairs to play.

On the first floor, there was a large room which was full of blankets that people sent them as private contributions for the front. Blankets were kept at that room, so if needed to be sent to different areas. The blankets had been folded and stacked up. Sometimes the height of stacked-up blankets reached near ceiling. Kids climbed them up and slid; this was their way of playing. It was the only fun for kids. When the kids went downstairs, I gave milk to Somayeh and put her to sleep. Then, I threw dirty clothes into a flat round tub to take them into bathroom and washed, when suddenly a terrible noise shook the building. Everybody rush out of rooms frantically. Children were screaming in fear. I put the tub on the floor and ran toward window. Part of the barracks had disappeared into dust. Women made noise and ran across. I did not know what to do. This was the first time the barracks were bombed. I wanted to go looking for my kids when another explosion was heard again, and as if someone pushed me, I was thrown off down the room. I felt giddy, but I thought of my kids. Stumbling I hugged Somayeh and ran toward first floor. Somayeh had scared, and was crying and wouldn’t calm down. Children were still playing in the same room. They were so busy playing that hadn’t noticed the sound of bomb. Other women came down frantically. We called children when once again the sound of another explosion rocked the building. This time, children noticed and fearfully stuck to us. One of women went room to room and called everybody to gather at the first floor hall. We were ten or fifteen adult and seven or eight children. The acrid smell of gunpowder and dust had filled the hall. Children were crying. We were worried about the men. One woman said: “The front line isn’t far from here. If the barrack falls, we’ll become prisoners of war.”

Hearing that, I felt odd apprehensive. The thought of captivity of myself and my children had frightened me badly. We went upstairs again, when things calmed down a bit. We stood behind the windows and traced the smoke to guess where in the barracks has been bombed, when suddenly one of the women cried out: “Look there, oh my God!”

Several aircrafts were flying at low altitude. We even saw the release of their bombs. On that moment, the only thing that we could do was to lie down on the ground. We had put our hands on our head and opened our mouths; screamed: “Hey kids! Put your hands on your head. Do not close your mouth.” Khadija and Masumah and Mahdi had stuck to me with fear and didn’t open their mouths. But Somayeh was crying. In the early moments, the non-stop thud of explosions shook the ground. I said myself that everything was over. Now we all have died. We laid down on that state one quarter. Then, one by one, we raised our heads from ground. The room had been filled with smoke. Glasses had been fractured, but adhesive tapes, which had been glued on them, not allowed them to fall on the ground or over us. All of fractured glasses had stuck at the frame of window. We thanked God that nobody has been injured. Vague and various sounds were heard from out. One of women said: “Let's go out. It is not safe here.”

To be continued…