Medal and Leave - 6

11 notes from and Iraqi captive

Compiled by Hedayatollah Behboudi
Translated by: M.B. Khoshnevisan

2025-9-7

Medal and Leave - 6

11 notes from and Iraqi captive

Compiled by Hedayatollah Behboudi

 Translated by: M.B. Khoshnevisan

***

Episode 6: Medal and leave

Ha.......ha.......ha........ !

He laughed so hard he nearly toppled over backward. They were engrossed in conversation, and I carefully observed their faces. Between every sentence, his insane laughter erupted, interrupting their words. With his gleaming eyes, he scanned the corners of the room. His sullen face and sharp gaze revealed his savagery and treachery. His close friend was no better. 

The stench of their rotting bodies and filthy clothes—with bloodstains dried on them from a month ago—spoke of their wild audacity. These clothes served as both their work uniforms and their sleepwear.

Sitting around a tablecloth was only because we shared a roof with them. But the delicious food in this unwanted gathering felt like a very bitter medicine, and we might even have excused ourselves from eating with them because, for health reasons, we preferred not to share a meal with them. Their spotted clothing and other characteristics indicated they belonged to the special 65th and 66th brigades.

They had been stationed, along with a group of Saddam's Republican Guard forces and the 338th, 448th, 604th, and 75th brigades, as well as the "Hattin" and "Mi'ad" Green Berets battalions, in the Haj Omran area during the attack on Gerdehmand Heights. These heights were under the control of the Islamic forces until 19/5/1986.

The conversation between those two revolved around the thefts—their nature and quantity, which were considered war spoils. One of them had acquired a gold ring. To take possession of it, he had severed the swollen finger of a corpse with a trench knife, and to acquire a valuable wristwatch, he had crushed the bones of the hand and fingers of another corpse.

He continued his words with arrogance and looked at us with a triumphant expression to make us understand that we would never be able to obtain such spoils like him. 

The arrogance and pride of the second comrade were greater than the first. He took pride in some Iranian banknotes and an identification card that he had obtained by tearing the clothes off a bloody Iranian corpse and leaving him half-naked.

I have not exaggerated if I say that his words depicted one of the scenes of the Karbala incident before my eyes, and this once again displayed that event on the page of history. 

From the perspective of the Iraqi army officers, they were heroes and more deserving than others of capturing us and receiving attention and appreciation. They were also more entitled than the rest to the leave that began tonight after sixty days had passed. Moreover, they had three extra days added to their leave for receiving the Medal of Bravery.

The conversation between those two, under those circumstances, revolved around suitable gifts for their beloveds and procuring some of the things their young children had requested. One of them had procured a gold ring, another a sum of banknotes, the third a few pieces of mortar shrapnel, and the fourth a handkerchief that had been pulled from the pocket of one of the corpses, as a gift for their intended person.

The time to meet their lovers had been predetermined; at so-and-so's tavern, or so-and-so's pleasure-den, or....

Three Ifa-type vehicles stopped, ready to transport them to the "Diana" garage on the road leading to the Gerdehma  nd peak. Everyone had boarded, and the vehicles were ready to move when suddenly a 120mm mortar exploded near the first vehicle carrying the special forces. 

They did not get out of the vehicles because they were still intoxicated by victory and "arrogance." Moments later, a second mortar landed on the most crowded vehicle and exploded. The vehicle and its passengers fell to the ground like dry palm branches. 

Alas, all those spoils of war were destroyed and vanished along with the shattered bodies! The others, like a herd of gazelles, scattered at the moment of danger and took refuge behind rocks in the valleys out of fear. As soon as the passengers evacuated the vehicles, the shelling also stopped.

Leave was canceled until further notice. Then, one midnight, orders were given for everyone to quickly board vehicles that had been parked in another location, so that Iranian scouts and potential infiltrators would not detect their presence. 

Everyone boarded with a sure heart—or rather, a dead one. The shelling had stopped since the night before, and the vehicles were filled with special forces personnel. But as soon as the vehicles were ready to move, the bullets of "Jondollah" began to rain down from the sky. The bullets came all at once. One of them hit a patch of dirt and created a deep crater, but the second one exploded right on one of the vehicles.

Suddenly, shattered limbs scattered in the air. The terrifying nightmare of the previous day had returned. Cries for help rang out.

Several were killed, and the rest chose to flee rather than stay. The situation became abnormal. What was happening was not blind shelling. Everyone, from the youngest to the oldest and from soldiers to commanders, was astonished.

The issue of leaves, the disintegration of bodies, and the replacement of destroyed vehicles preoccupied everyone's minds. Leave had turned into a dreadful death, and for this reason, leaves were canceled once again. The fear of leave had become more intense than the fear of a massive, all-out attack. Several days passed without even a single machine gun bullet being fired. Strangely, every day, a large number of supply vehicles traveled back and forth on that very road without anyone bothering them or firing a single shot at them. Especially since that road, during the distribution of supplies, resembled a commercial market.

On a summer day, early in the seventh month of 1987 AD, during the distribution of supplies among the mortar emplacements stationed behind the front lines, a handsome young man wearing an Iraqi military uniform stood in line with the crew. When it was his turn, he asked for two portions. The food distribution officer did not recognize him and asked, "Which patrol group are you from? I haven't seen you before!" 

The question caught him off guard because supplies were always distributed at night, and no one ever noticed his presence. But this time, the distribution was taking place in the morning. He replied, "Front of the line... I'm from Fasil One, that is, from the first squad."

He mispronounced the word "Fasil." This response seemed suspicious because food distribution took place near the patrol groups, and none of the battalions were in that location. The supply officer said, "What? Repeat it, repeat it!"

The vehicle incident had not yet been forgotten and had caused great fear and panic; the rumor of an infiltrating scout persisted strongly, and so one of those present asked him, "What is your name?... Which brigade are you from?" He had not anticipated these questions. People came from all directions and quickly gathered around him when suddenly a hand grenade exploded in the middle of the crowd, dispersing everyone and causing the deaths of a number of troops. One of the bodies was that of the same Iranian member of the first Fasil, who had been more severely injured than the others. One of the wounded said, "I had been seeing him for over a week. He would come here regularly, take food for two people, and leave."

This one was martyred, but the second one had undoubtedly returned to where he had come from.

To be continued ...