Third Regiment: Memoirs of an Iraqi Prisoner of War Doctor – 16

By Mojtaba al-Hosseini
Translated into Farsi by: Mohammad Hossein Zavar Kabeh
Translated into English by: M.B. Khoshnevisan

2026-2-8

Third Regiment: Memoirs of an Iraqi Prisoner of War Doctor – 16

By Mojtaba al-Hosseini
Translated into Farsi by: Mohammad Hossein Zavar Kabeh
Translated into English by: M.B. Khoshnevisan

***

Of course. Here is the translation from Persian to American English, rendered in a formal, analytical tone suitable for a historical or political context.

***

Time passed slowly. We were still busy treating sick soldiers, malingerers, and the wounded, telling jokes, and listening to radio news. Although the winter season had arrived, our forces continued around the clock to asphalt the communication roads between the units deployed at the front and their supply centers in “Nashweh.” They also decided to build several ammunition and food depots in the Joffeir area, hoping to make use of them in exceptional circumstances. This mission was assigned to a group of Kurdish soldiers—about two hundred men—under the command of Lieutenant Colonel “Mohammad,” himself a Kurd from Sulaymaniyah. From their appearance it was clear that they were neither regular military personnel nor tribesmen. Instead of carrying weapons and ammunition, they carried shovels and pickaxes, and they were completely unfamiliar with the Arabic language. There were not even any officers or non-commissioned officers among them. These poor men worked day and night, using old freight train wagons to build underground depots.

One day Colonel “Mohammad” came to visit us and asked me to have lunch with him, because he was alone and, according to army regulations, was not allowed to eat with the soldiers. After a few days of spending time with him, I realized that he was among the despised figures in the army. Typically, the Baathists assigned officers like him to simple, low-risk missions, far from the army’s sensitive centers and important posts. This colonel was leading two hundred soldiers in the task of building depots behind the front lines, while Ba'athist officers junior to him were commanding regiments and battalions.

With the onset of winter, heavy snowfall and rain began, and because of the rough roads, this created serious problems for us. Gradually, supplying provisions became difficult; more importantly, the wounded were transferred to Basra with great hardship and would reach their destination only after several hours. If the road had been asphalted, this time would have been reduced to one hour. This situation caused many of the wounded to die along the way. On the other hand, we were in urgent need of blood, and since we had no refrigerator to store it, a number of other wounded also lost their lives for this reason.

On one of the rainy days, three wounded men were brought to us in very critical condition. One of them was a second lieutenant named “Aref”; the other two were soldiers. Their joints had been severed as a result of a mine explosion beneath their armored vehicle. Apparently, the incident had occurred around the city of Hoveyzeh. The mines had been planted by Iranian forces who infiltrated the area at night. All three were in urgent need of blood and rapid transfer to the rear, neither of which was possible for us. After carrying out the necessary examinations, I sent them by ambulance along a road full of mud that led to Basra. Lieutenant Aref died on the way, while the other two reached Basra alive. Two days later, an investigative committee showed up to look into the cause of Lieutenant Aref’s death and to identify and punish those responsible. I was surprised, because he was not the first wounded man to die en route; before him, dozens of others had perished in the same way. After some inquiries, it became clear that Lieutenant Aref was one of the regime’s close supporters, and that his father had been one of the ministers in the cabinet of “Abdul Salam Aref.” [1]

In the meantime, I too was interrogated, since I was the duty physician at the time. During this interrogation, my innocence was proven, and one of the helicopter pilots was reprimanded for shirking the orders of the commander of the Fifth Division regarding the evacuation of the wounded man.

Many of us, along with other forces opposed to the war, exerted our utmost efforts to help the wounded out of purely humanitarian motives, while Baathist doctors and medical staff shirked their responsibilities, concerned only with eating, drinking, and taking leave. Here I will give you one example: One day, a Baathist medical officer was on duty. At ten o’clock at night, an ambulance arrived carrying five wounded soldiers. Their bodies were torn apart, yet that Ba'athist doctor and so-called “national militant” fled and abandoned them to their fate. A few minutes later, “Ghaffar,” the medical deputy—a brave man from Basra—came to me and said, “Doctor! Everyone ran away when they saw the condition of those soldiers. Please come with me so we can arrange their transfer to Basra.” We set off together. When the ambulance doors were opened, I was confronted with a harrowing scene: a heap of flesh piled together. I went into the emergency room and called the orderlies and drivers. The four of us unloaded the bodies and began gathering what remained of each of them. By midnight, we managed to wrap the mutilated bodies and remains of the five soldiers in blankets and place them on five stretchers. “Ghaffar” found a two-kilogram piece of flesh and said to me, “Doctor, I found this piece of meat inside the ambulance. Where should I put it?”

I thought for a moment and then said, “Don’t you know who it belongs to?”

He replied, “No.”

I said, “By God, I don’t know what should be done.”

At that moment, one of the medical assistants shouted, “Put it next to the body that has less flesh.”

So, he placed that piece of flesh beside one of the dismembered bodies.

[1] Iraqi President from 1963 to 1965