An Excerpt from the Memoirs of General Mohammad Jafar Asadi

Selected by: Faezeh Sasanikhah
Translated by Kianoush Borzouei

2025-3-31

As Operation Fath-ol-Mobin came to an end, the commanders gathered at the “Montazeran-e Shahadat” Base, thrilled by a huge and, to some extent, astonishing victory achieved in such a short time. They were already bracing themselves for the next battle. It is no exaggeration to say that this operation solidified an unprecedented friendship between the Army and IRGC commanders. The usual formalities of the IRGC forces and the rigid military etiquette of the Army seemed to dissolve. When they convened, their interactions were infused with warmth and mutual respect—whether it was the eagerness to greet one another first, the courtesy of offering food at shared meals, or the lively discussions and cheerful moments before strategic meetings. From the very first gathering after Fath-ol-Mobin, they had become one, their collective focus locked on a singular objective—the city still known as Khouninshahr (The City of Blood).

The true joyousness however, was felt in the streets and among the soldiers—Army officers, IRGC forces, and Basij volunteers—who were preparing for a brief respite to return home, carrying the sweetness of victory and the spoils of a ten-day battle to share with family and friends. Our own joy manifested in the occasional, lingering gazes cast upon the expansive operational map of Fath-ol-Mobin, prominently displayed on the war room wall at Gulf Base. Each time we turned to the map of Khorramshahr, we would first steal a glance at the previous victory’s chart, take a deep breath, and let our eyes trace the red markings that signified the reclaimed territories—finding reassurance in the thought that everything was unfolding as it should.

I distinctly remember that no one invoked exhaustion as an excuse. The consensus among the commanders was absolute: we could not afford to grant the enemy any reprieve. The hard-won strategic advantage we had seized had to be pressed forward. Yet, we all understood from the outset that Khorramshahr was an entirely different battlefield—it demanded meticulous planning, formidable leadership, and a well-prepared, substantial force. The Iraqi regime was well aware that our next target lay west of the Karun River—Khorramshahr itself—but they could never have imagined another large-scale assault in the immediate aftermath of Fath-ol-Mobin. Their miscalculation stemmed from past experience; the eight-month gap between Operation Samen-ol-Aemeh and Fath-ol-Mobin had led them to believe that Iran lacked the operational capacity for successive offensives. It was precisely this misplaced confidence that we sought to exploit. The element of surprise was now our greatest weapon, and we had to capitalize on the Iraqis' bewilderment at the sheer speed of our previous victory.

Regional and global backers of Iraq, who had convinced themselves that Khorramshahr was Saddam’s trump card—an asset that Iran could never reclaim—mobilized their full political and propaganda machinery, alongside covert and overt military support, to implant the belief of an impossible victory in our minds. Their aim was clear: to ensure Khorramshahr remained in Iraqi hands long enough for them to further bolster Saddam’s forces and, in the process, erode Iran’s war momentum. It was no coincidence that Saddam infamously declared, “If the Iranians take Khorramshahr, I will hand them the keys to Basra!” In truth, however, Saddam was not the military mastermind he claimed to be—he failed to grasp the magnitude of his defeat in Fath-ol-Mobin. As the Shirazis would say, "The wind had yet to sting his wound.” He had no idea that our national pride had been ignited, and our patience for reclaiming Khorramshahr had reached its breaking point. The resounding victories in Abadan and Dasht-e Abbas had already taught us one thing: with unwavering determination, Khorramshahr too could be liberated.

At Gulf Base, a singular determination coursed through the veins of every commander. After extensive deliberations, it did not take long for a final decision to emerge: within one month, the joint Army-IRGC command structure would be fully organized into four operational headquarters, unit capabilities would be reinforced, forces would be recharged, and battle plans would be refined with even greater precision. The ultimate decision on the timing of the operation was entrusted to Mohsen Rezaei and Sayyad Shirazi, with the collective assurance of all present: “The beard and scissors are in your hands—we stand ready and obedient.”

It was now clear to all that a month of patience lay ahead, followed by an offensive unlike any before—one that required no redundant force mobilizations, no prolonged persuasion efforts, and none of the customary justifications of past operations. Everywhere, the whispers of Khorramshahr’s approaching liberation had spread, and across the entire nation, every heart beat in anticipation of the moment they would finally hear the words: “Khorramshahr has been freed.”^[1]