The 352nd Session of Memory Night-2

Adjusted by Leyla Rostami
Translated by Ruhollah Golmoradi

2024-6-12

The 352nd session of memory night held in Hozeh Honari of Engelab-e Eslami, Sooreh Amphitheater on November 23, 2023. This part of the session is allocated to narration of champion fighter, Hajj Mohammad Talebi. In this meeting which was along with book launch of “Miandar”, Sardar (IRGC’s General) Asadollah Naseh, Doctor Musa Zare, and Hajj Mohammad Talebi narrated their memories. Davood Saleh hosted this night of memory.

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The second narrator of this night of memory was Dr. Musa Zare, born in July 1971 and was from Islamabad-e Gharb. He is a child of the war; It means he was involved in the war from the first bombing in the west of the country. He says that he loved going to the front like many teenagers of that time, but he had to wait until he would be old enough to pick up a gun. He spent 30 months of his life in the fronts and is proud to be a veteran.

At the beginning of his speech, the narrator said, “I was injured in Shalamcheh. I was resting for a few months when a day Martyr Jalal Nosrati came to our house in Islamabad and said, “hey you! an operation is going to be done. Are you coming or not?!” I said, “So when and where it would be? Can I come in this condition?” He said, “Yes, you can come.” I said, “Well, arrange the plan so I would be able to come.” Before leaving, my parents came and greeted Hajj Jalal. Mr. Jalal said, “Mr. Musa has discharged from the war; He no longer wants to go to the front.” When he left, my parents said to me (in Kordish accent) Rullah jan (dear son)! This is a good friend, be a close friend with him. In fact, Mr. Jalal came to tell me to participate in the operation!! Hamza Battalion had also come to Islamabad and was stationed in a regulating dam in workshop houses. In short, we used to go to the battalion under the pretext of visiting friends.

It was two or three days before Operation Valfajr-10 when I said to my father, “dear dad! Mr. Jalal also said, I have fulfilled my obligation. I will go to the barracks to meet my comrades.” He said, “Promise me, don't pass Barfabad.” I said, “your command is my wish, dad!” In short, we went and Operation Fajr-10 was underway. I still did not understand Hajj [Talebi] well; because he was busy with coordinating the operation affairs. We were dispatched to the region. The region was in a difficult situation. Bayangan to Halabja was also very difficult to pass. We had a short break. We also had nothing to sleep on that night. We only had a blanket that we pulled over our heads. It was raining heavily. We realized that we were sitting on the river path. The rain soaked from above, the river water from below.

I was chilled. A guy from operations intelligence, I think it was Hossein Roshan, saw me and said, “Come inside our tent. We have tents here.” The operations intelligence guys already had tents to detection. The officials inside the tent were busy with deciding to continue the operation. They said, “Let's move the guys.” One of them said, “in this dark night, how can we move them?” One of the operations intelligence guys should move in front of the column with an infrared camera, and the others should pick up the phone cable and follow him.” It was approved to move in this way. I was also an almost 16-year-old Basij member that no one knew me. I had gone into a sleeping bag to get warm. I raised my head and said, “If the rest of the path is like this winding and valley path that we passed, when one person slips in the middle of the wire and goes to the bottom of the valley, he will take several people down with himself.” Everyone confirmed my words without knowing who I was and the operation was delayed one night. That means we were supposed to go rest somewhere in that night and attack the next night. Finally, they combined the two nights into one.

The narrator added, “The operation was carried out and we reached the village of Anab[1]. I first went for an Iraqi jeep car. I started the jeep and gave it to Hajj Agha Sepirad. He was a disabled veteran who his both legs had amputated in Majnoon. He was present at the front until the end of the war. Now, he is also working in deprived areas. There was a big Unimog truck with eight forward gears and eight reverse gears. Hossein Azarnoosh was sitting there with a SVD. I said, “Hussein! Why are you sitting here?” He said, “I sat down so that the truck will be ours.” I said, “Can you start it?” He said, “No.” “So can you let me to drive the truck?” I said; he said “Can you?” I said, “I'll try.” I opened the switch with a bayonet and we started the truck.

Only my helmet was visible from the back of the truck, which showed that a person was sitting in the truck. I put it in gear, but the truck sputtered and wouldn't move. I said, “my God! What's the matter?! Why is it sputtering but not moving?!” I found out that it has a gear release lever, so I pushed it into the gear and put the gear as higher as I could until Anab village and we took the car. There was also the noise of the barrage, but I turned a deaf ear. But they were the guys of Najaf-8 [Camp] were jokingly shooting with Iraqi looted weapons so that we leave these cars for them. Hajj Mohsen Afzali, who was the deputy of Hajj [Talabi], said, “I enjoyed from afar that see! Who is taking the car and turn a deaf ear?”

We drove the car up from Shiller[2] heights, reached a spring that had soaked the road. The car got stuck there. Whatever I did, I saw the wheel was in downward direction toward the valley. I came down and saw that the car has two gearboxes. Customarily, it must have a shock absorber. I came up and saw that I couldn't find the lever. Until the car shut off. Because the road was almost one-way, a column of booty trucks formed behind us. They had not used chemical bombs yet. I came down I was busy with what to do with the car that I saw General Sepehr. He said, “Why is this car stopped?!” I said, “"Well, it's broken.” He said, “Who is the driver?” “Me,” I said. He monitored my height and the car twice. this car! This person! He couldn't believe it. He said, “Look, my dear! A column of booty cars has formed behind you, now is the time for Iraqi aircrafts to come and bomb everyone; shortly, push this car to go into the valley so that the others can be saved.” I also scanned the car, I scanned the column, I saw my car was worth all the cars behind. I didn't like to do that. I trusted in God, went in the truck, and manipulated some levers. In fact, when the car was on, I had disconnected the battery power due to shock absorber. The car started. I put the car in gear and brought that car from Halabja to Islamabad without a certificate and without paying for diesel.

Continuing his memoirs, the narrator said, “I arrived in Islamabad. Hajji [Talebi] saw me and said, “Mr. Musa! Your relatives who are in the battalion went home two days ago. You promised not to go beyond Barfabad, now go and make amend to them. By the way, do you know to drive a light-duty car too? Because Hajji had not yet seen me to drive a car. In short, he gave me a jeep. I said, “I have never driven a Jeep, but I will try it.” I went to the village with an Iraqi uniform and an Iraqi jeep. All the guys of the village gathered happily, but my father was sad. He told me, “My son! Mr. Musa! I said, don't go to the front, you went. Don't go to the operation, but you went. But at least don't drive! Driving is more disastrous than the front and operations.” I said, “Dad! Here you are in command, but Hajj Talebi is the commander there. Let's see what he thinks is good.” My father still did not know about the truck.

I arrived at the barracks the next day. Hajji said, “Mr. Musa! Go change the oil of that heavy-duty car, we are going somewhere.” The city had been bombed too. I went to IRGC Camp. I said, “Sir! Hello.” He said, “Hello. Who are you?” I said, “I am Musa Zarepour, and I was dispatched from here.” He said, “So what do you want?” I said, “I want oil for this truck.” He said, “What is this truck?” I said, “It is an Iraqi.” He said, “We don't give oil to the Iraqi truck.” I said, “Well, ...” I negotiated and he agreed to give me oil. He went to the hole, but no matter what he did, no spanner fit it. Finally, we negotiated again and I took twenty bottles of car oil from them and put them in front of the car to go to the city and see if there would be a place to change the oil. My father had closed his business due to the bombing. He had a truck to move his furniture. Sometimes the trucks were forcibly taken to the front. He also went. I was afraid that my father would see me and say, “Sir! We told you not to ride a jeep, you came in a truck!” I arrived around the square, I turned towards a side street. I looked in the mirror and saw my father turned. I understood he saw me. Briefly, we had a chase and escape. We reached the exit of the city. I said, I will press the gas pedal. Dad's car could never reach me. Because the German Unimog moved like a light-duty car.

There were two trophies in Nabi-e Akram's Brigade too. One was mine, the other belonged to Hanin Battalion. I reached the city exit and saw Rahim Safari and Jalal Nosrati standing. I said, “oh God! I should go! Or not go! stop! Or not stop, my dad is behind me, let me go, he wants to come to the barracks, I appeal to God.” I stopped the truck and my father stopped behind me too. I went to him and said, “Dad, don't dishonor me before my friends.” He said, “My son, I told you not to drive a jeep last night. You are now driving a 10 Ton truck.” I said, “my wish is your command, dad! God knows Hajji ordered. Commander’s order is obligatory.” Meanwhile, suddenly the sound of breaking the sound barrier was heard. I don't know if it was one or many! The warfighters were over the city, and we lay down. Summarily, the city was bombarded including a very strange bomb that I have never seen before. It was one of those bombs that dug an area of two to three, and five to six meters downward. We were lying down when my father said, “Sir Musa!" Mr. Musa!” I said, “What is it, dear Dad?” He said, “Driving is more dangerous than this warfighters, please don't drive again!” I said, “your command is my wish, they have also seen the Iraqi car so they will drop the second bomb again, let us go.” In short, we went. Hajji [Talebi] recognized my talent and I couldn't say no. He used to delegate work like this. I am proud to be a courier for Hajji for a while.

To be continued…