SABAH (61)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami
Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

2021-05-25


SABAH (61)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami

Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

Published by Soore Mehr Publishing Co.

Persian Version 2019

 

 

In the twilight of the morning, I saw Dr. Sa’adat coming towards me with a four liters water container. He had brought breakfast for us. When he got near, he said: “Hi, how are you? I am sure you haven’t slept the whole night!” I said: “Hi, yes I could not sleep at all. What happened? Why you didn’t return last night?” he said: “it took long to get items from Red Crescent, and I could not find a car to get here.” I said: “Can you come with me to wash for prayers?” He said: “Let’s go.”

I needed to go to restroom, but I was afraid to go somewhere along. We were in a district that there were only a few rural houses. We could go inside but I was afraid that somebody might be hiding there. We were going towards one of the houses that Ghasem Farrokhi came to us and said: “Wait for me.”

Ghasem Farrokhi and Dr. Sa’adat stood at the entrance of one of the houses and I quickly went inside. A few minutes later we returned to where we were. We did Tayammum and said our morning prayer.

The team members had prepared bread and cheese sandwiches for breakfast. Everybody got a small bite to eat. I took mine and went to a corner. As I wanted to put my bit in my mouth, a dog came towards me and stood a few meters away. His face and appearance were different from all the dogs I had seen so far. His whole body was shivering. I felt pity for him. It was not obvious why he was shaking either due to the constant explosion or any other reason.

He did not move his eyes from the bite in my hand. It was obvious that he/she was hungry. I did not know whether he/she would eat the bread and cheese or not but since I had nothing else, I threw the bite to him. The dog took the bite and started eating. A few minutes later, he wagged his/her tail at me and went. It was hungry. I was staring at his/her movement that Ghasem Farrokhi approached me and said: “Why did you give him/her your bite? Now what are you going to do until noon?” I said: “I am not that hungry. The poor dog was hungrier than me.”

Abbas Alivand joined us too. I had not seen him since yesterday noon when we divided in the palm groves. He was surprised to see me and said: “Sister Sabbah why didn’t you return to hotel last night?” I said: “I wanted to return but one of the forces did not allow.” He said: “He did not let?! What does this mean?! Tell me exactly what has happened?!”

I told him what had happened. I hadn’t finished talking yet that his face turned red and said: “Show me who has been that man without dignity who did not let you return? He is applying force on a woman? Tell me who he is quickly!”

I felt regretful for telling what had happened. He was going to address this young man. I was afraid to create a quarrel. I decided not to tell who he was. Despite his persistence, I did not say anything. I said: “Nothing has happened! I wanted myself to stay.” He said: “Nothing has happened?! He had no right to stop you from returning. Who is he to stop you? Some people have come here by force. If they do not have the character, they should not come. They have no right to set limits for others.”

Alivand was talking in an angry tone. All of a sudden we heard the sound of some helicopters. The commander ordered us to take trench. We did not know whether the helicopters belonged to the Iranians or Iraqis. When the helicopters started shooting at us constantly, we found out that they were Iraqi helicopters who were paving the way for their infantry.

I leaned to the wall of the store quickly. The wall was made of thatch and my clothes and scarf were creamy. It was not easy to see me. Helicopters went around us for a while and shot a few missiles without having a specific target. The missiles hit the ground with a distance from us and did not harm us but destroyed the beautiful nature of Zolfaghari. A few minutes later the helicopters left.

We divided in the palm groves. Thanks God, Alivand forgot about the last night’s happening and did not follow it up. The shooting accelerated from Iraqis when we divided in the palm groves and started to go forward. Clashes rose. Although we had to be cautious in shooting and full cautious for our ammunition, but thanks God we could move forward very well until noon time.

Little by little we got to a place where we could see Iraqi bodies on the ground. The more we approached Bahman Shir, the more bodies we could see. Some of them had been shot and some had been killed by shrapnels. I felt surprised by looking at the bodies. Those corpses were very different from all the martyrs I had seen so far. Although they had been killed in the clashes of the last night and today, and not so long had passed since their death, their faces had turned dark. Whereas our martyrs had no change even though two days had passed since their martyrdom. In very rare cases, the color of the skin would turn a bit to the color of moon which was a sign of light rather than being pale. It was as if God had turned the face of intruders into black.

The corpses had turned so dark that I told myself for one second God! Iraqis are not black so why have they turned like this?! Their appearance and face and bodies were quite different with our soldiers. Our soldiers were mostly very young and had small appearances and some of them had not grown beard and mustache yet but Iraqis were exactly the opposite. Most of them were tall and had a big physique and half of their faces were covered with their mustaches. Their bodies had dried like a piece of wood and they looked like mummies and seemed like hundred years have passed since their death.

As we moved forward, I did not see any trench from the Iraqis. It was obvious that they had commuted hastily and had no chance to make trenches for themselves. Thanks God our forces had noticed their entry and presence and had stopped them.

Along with the members of Fadaieyan Islam team we reached the houses of Zolfaghari alley; along with soldiers whom I did not know until that time. As they introduced themselves they were from south of Tehran and the love towards Imam had brought them there[1].

Zolfaghari alley had a serious of organizational houses. The streets were in regular rows and the doors of the houses opened opposite each other. Some of them were towards North and some towards South. They were different from rural houses since the rural houses were made of mud and wood whereas these were made of bricks and girder. The Iraqis had stationed in the houses and streets of Zolfaghari alley last night and had dug the streets and made trenches for themselves. Their trenches were very different from the ones we saw and made in Khorramshahr. They had dug the surface of the street and had placed plates as the roof and had covered the plates with soil and sacks of sand.

One of the trenches was bigger and more equipped than other. They had brought carpets from the people’ houses and covered the ground of the trench. They had even hung carpets on the walls. The carpets were nailed to the walls. It seems like the trench of their commander.

As we were moving forward I saw an Iraqi body. I approached him. He seemed in his thirties. He was young and big. The bullet had hit his shoulder and his semi-opened eyes were looking at the sky. I noticed his military degree. It was obvious that he was not an ordinary soldier. I moved his degree. I wanted to keep it as a memoir. I wished I had killed him last night. He had a cute bag; a green bag made of plastic which had two straps and a lot of small pockets which were slightly bloodied. One of the straps was hanging from his shoulder and the other one was attached to the side of the owner like a belt. It was made to avoid movement of the bag while the owner was running.

I called the others. Masoud Paki and Hassan Sorkhou came. One of the soldiers called Mousavi was with them. Mousavi was an aid worker and son of Public Imam of Khorramshahr Jameh mosque. Alivand stood at his head and said: “From his appearance, it is obvious that he has been high ranking.”

I stretched my hand towards him and said: “Yes! These are his stars. I have taken them as memoirs.”

Alivand smiled and said: “he has been a full Colonel. What a body you have found! Now that you have found him, you can take all his belongings for yourself. Take whatever you need.”

Besides the bag, there was a brown leather grenade holder strapped to his waist. I opened the strap of his bag. I needed the bag. It was better than my aid bag. I emptied it. There was a toothbrush and some chocolates in it. I took the grenade holder too. It was not practical for me but was a good souvenir.

 

To be continued …

 

 

1] People like Shahrokh Zargham, who years after I read and heard many things about the 180-degree change in his mood and beliefs by meeting Imam Khomeini and his bravery in the fronts.



 
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