Third Regiment: Memoirs of an Iraqi Prisoner of War Doctor – 9

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

2025-12-14

Third Regiment: Memoirs of an Iraqi Prisoner of War Doctor – 9

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

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

***

On September 25, 1980, along with Dr. "Naeem Abd Salman," at the head of a medical team, we set out for the command headquarters of the 20th Brigade to provide assistance. It was 4:00 PM when we drove toward the border in two vehicles carrying six passengers and a military jeep as our guide. We traveled along a rough dirt road and after 40 minutes reached the vicinity of the border point. Three kilometers from the border strip between the two countries, I observed signs of the invading forces' deployment before the attack. While passing through the area, we encountered an armored column. This column had kicked up such thick dust that we lost our guide. We didn't know which way to go. Night fell before we could get our bearings. We decided to spend that night in the desert, but the mosquitoes robbed us of any rest or peace. In any case, in the morning we returned to the village of Nashweh, and that same afternoon an officer from the brigade headquarters arrived and took us with him to the base. He was riding a motorcycle. We crossed the border and entered Iran's roads, which were covered in sand. This road connected to an Iranian border checkpoint.

As I rode behind the guide's motorcycle, moving along a path that ran parallel to the border strip, I could scarcely believe I had set foot on the soil of the Islamic Republic of Iran. On the Iraqi side of the border, I encountered trenches manned by soldiers, heavy weapons depots, and border posts. I realized Iraq had long ago concentrated its forces in this area—the very area from which it would later launch its attack. In other words, Iraq had long been preparing for the start of the war.

However, on the Iranian side of the border, only a few border posts with attractive buildings, connected to sand-covered roads, were visible. In the land surrounding these posts, there was no sign of soldiers' trenches or heavy weapon positions. Instead, there were only four tank mock-ups that had been placed on concrete platforms long before on the Talai'yeh-Kooshk road to deceive the invading forces. A layer of dust and rust covered them. Nevertheless, at the very outset of the invasion, these scrap-metal decoys had managed to frighten the attacking forces.

This demonstrated Iran's lack of military preparedness at its borders, and even its unreadiness to defend its own territory in these regions. I personally did not observe the signs or evidence of a real battle between two armies. There were no burned-out tanks to be seen, no bodies, and no significant military spoils. There were only a few destroyed outposts and a negligible quantity of weapons that had been captured following the retreat of Iran's border forces from the scene of an uneven battle against our well-equipped forces.

The guide's motorcycle cut through the road, and I followed behind it in an ambulance that had been purchased a few months before the war. I asked the guide, "Is this truly Iranian soil? Are you sure we haven't lost our way? So where are the front lines of the battle?"

The guide smiled and said, "I'm sure we came the right way. All these areas have been liberated by our forces, who are fighting ten kilometers from the opposing point."

We continued on our way. Fear and anxiety would not leave me for a moment. At 5:00 PM, we reached the Shehabi outpost. Near this outpost, the command headquarters of "B" Brigade under the command of Second Staff Colonel "Adnan," had been established. In the distance, we could hear the sound of artillery firing. After an hour and a half, darkness spread its shadow over that terrifying desert.

At 9:00 PM on September 26, 1980, they brought two wounded soldiers to us. I attended to their treatment. They informed us that our forces had liberated Hamid Garrison, cut the Khorramshahr-Ahvaz Road, and were advancing toward Ahvaz. I could not believe what I was hearing. My God, so where are the Iranians? Where is the army the Shah took such pride in? It was disheartening to see that our forces had penetrated some 70 to 80 kilometers into Iranian territory in just about four days.

At dawn on September 27, we were ordered to move through the middle of the desert. I did not know where they were taking us. After half an hour, we reached the "Joffeir" outpost. Around this outpost, there were 12 mud-brick houses. Arab Iranian families lived in some of them. This village was situated at a fork in the road leading to the city of Hoveyzeh and Hamid Garrison.

We rested briefly under the shade of trees, around which there were three water wells. Since our food and drinking water had run out, we were forced to use the brackish water from those same wells. The abandoned homes presented a terrifying and mournful sight. No one dared to step inside them. Furthermore, there were dogs in the vicinity guarding the houses. We gradually moved eastward until, at 11:00 AM, the convoy halted in the middle of that barren desert. Dr. "Naeem" and I had still not met the convoy commander. The only thing of importance to me at that moment was the presence of a mobile medical unit.

Half an hour later, two Iranian fighter jets, apparently coming from the direction of Iraq, suddenly passed slowly over our heads. After a short while, one of the two fighter jets returned and rained bullets down upon us. The people in the convoy scattered, and we threw ourselves to the ground in terror. Fortunately, that aircraft was not carrying any missiles, and we were miraculously saved from certain death. We hadn't even caught our breath when the same fighter reappeared above us like an eagle. This time, I thought our death was certain. Everyone fled aimlessly, looking for some cover to escape the strafing. That vast, open plain suddenly felt very cramped. Suddenly, I spotted an "astragalus" sapling, about 30 centimeters high. I hid my head behind it. In those terrifying conditions, the likes of which I had never seen in my entire life, I turned to Imam Hossein (PBUH) for help. I remembered the noble saying of the Prophet Muhammad (blessings of God upon him and his progeny): "Health and security are two blessings that people take for granted." I could easily hear the sound of my own heartbeat growing more intense by the moment. I stared at the underside of the attacking fighter jet, from which fiery bullets poured out, until it finally left the area.

We were still lying flat on the ground. No one dared to get up. Only after we were sure the danger had passed did we all rise. We were overjoyed to have escaped death alive. I raised my hands in supplication to God and said: "O God! You understand our situation. Save us from this calamity Yourself!" We had three 37mm anti-aircraft guns with us that day. But each time, their crews would flee. Only one soldier would stay behind the gun, and he would fire aimlessly out of sheer terror.

We stayed in the area until 1:00 PM. We were too hungry to move. We were only drinking the salty water. At that time, the vehicle carrying the soldiers' rations arrived, but they refused to share any portion of it with us because we were not part of their unit! They told us, "You are from another military unit," even though we and they belonged to the same army. They knew we had no access to other food, yet they insisted on excluding us from their group. When we followed up on the matter, it turned out that this was special food for officers, prepared in their own kitchen.

To be continued …