Daughter of Sheena (44)
2015-08-15
Daughter of Sheena-44
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
Sarpol-e Zahab was not the town that I thought. It was like a ruined village, with destroyed houses. It had no shops, or if there was, often it was put up shutters. Shutters had been warped by the blast or had been pierced. The streets had been reduced to a pile of rubble. Asphalt had been dug and when the car fell into potholes, our heads hit the car roof.
We passed the deserted and quiet streets. All along the way sporadic shops were open on which fruit, meat, vegetables and daily necessities of people were sold.
I said: “This is a ghost town.”
He shook his head and said: “Well, it’s a war zone.”
Shortly after, we arrived to Abouzar barracks. He got out of the car in front of its door and showed his ID card to a military police that had stood there. He spoke with him and then got into the car. MP peeped into the car and looked at me and children, and then he allowed us to move. Another security guard had been stood further; again Samad stopped the car, but this time he didn’t get out. He showed his card to guard through window and then he moved.
Wonderingly, my kids and I were looking at tanks inside the barracks and the guardians who were seemed the same apparently.
He asked: “Are you afraid?”
I shrugged and said: “No.”
He said: “It’s like Qayesh for me. When I’m here, I have the same feeling that I had in our village.”
He parked the car in front of a multi-storey building. Getting out, he hugged Mahdi and said: “We arrive.”
We climbed up the staircase of the building. Various writings had been seen on its walls and staircases.
He said: “The guys have written these mementos.”
At the first floor hallway there were a lot of rooms next each other, with iron doors and all the same. Reaching to the second floor, Samad turned to the left and we followed him. He stood in front of a room and said: “This is our room.”
He opened its door. Gray moquette had been thrown on the floor. Samad put Mahdi on the floor and went and soon after returned with our television. At the corner of room a few army blankets and some pillows had been stacked.
The room had a big window that opened towards the courtyard of barracks. Samad grabbed a blanket and said: “Right now, we set it up behind the window, until Mrs. Qadamkheyr purchase a curtain by her preferences.”
The children looked in surprise around the room. I put the hold-all of our clothes in the center of room. Samad took kids to show them bathroom and kitchen. They came back soon. He had washed their hands and faces. He also had held a pitcher of water and a glass in his hand. He laid them at the center of room and said: “I’m going to bring dinner. I'll be back soon.”
First days, we had Samad for lunch. A few days later, other commanders and their families arrived and settled in each room. In the next-door room, a commander and his wife lived; by mere chance, his wife was in the second months of her pregnancy. Early morning we were awakened by the sound of her vomiting. She hadn’t her husband for lunch. One day Samad said: “From tomorrow, I also won’t come for lunch. You go to her room and lunch together, so she does not feel lonely.”
Living in Abouzar barracks was pleasure with all of its hardship. There were no days without hearing the sound of explosions from far or near; or no aircraft bombed around. In Hamedan, at the state of red alert, we ran to the air raid shelter with fear and trembling, but now, here, these sounds had been normal for us.
Once at the middle of night, I woke up with the sound of anti-aircraft and defense of garrison. The sound was so terrible and loud that Somayeh woke up and began to cry. Khadija and Masumah and Mahdi also woke up due to her crying. At nights, we drew the blanket, which we set up behind the window. Suddenly I saw a plane in the sky at the low distance. I scared very much. I hugged Somayeh and ran towards the corner of room and said: “Samad! Take babies in your arms and come here. Airplane! It bombs now.”
Samad went towards the window and laughed and said: “Where is the plane? Why do you kick up a racket? Nothing has happened.”
The plane was still in the middle of the sky. Even the sound of its engine could be easily heard. Samad had begun to make a joke about it and teased me.
His jokes had irritated me and I was trembling from fear.
Tomorrow, Samad came back happily. He said: “My fellow warrior shot the plane that you saw last night! Its pilot also has been captured.”
I said: “So, you say that there is no plane. I'm wrong.”
He said: “Last night you were scared so much. I did not want the kids fear too.”
To be continued…
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