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The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

It was less crowded than on the previous days; there were no wounded people in the clinic. Contrary to what I had imagined, the girls were busy doing their own work. I said hello, and they greeted me warmly. The reaction was very different from the way they had behaved toward to me the day before. Gone was the familiar teasing: “Here comes the grouch” or “You look like a cadaver.”

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I put these thoughts behind me and noticed numbers of people walking toward Mahshahr. This would be my first time there. Not knowing much about the city, I imagined it was not different from Abadan, because like Abadan it had a petrochemical complex and, of course, foreign forces had been stationed there. But when we got there, I saw it was mostly dry wasteland. It seemed as if the sun was fiercer here—everywhere I looked was baked salt marsh.

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The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

It did not take but a few seconds for the jets to veer off toward Taleqani Hospital and drop their bombs between the hospital and a rural area southeast of the city. There were several explosions that sent smoke and dust into the air, followed immediately by the sound of breaking glass. The quaking of the earth was so terrible it felt like a whole had opened up and we were being swallowed by it.

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The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

At the crack of dawn on the fifth day I waited impatiently for the truck to come, poking my head out of the gate every so often, looking down the avenue for any sign of it. The sun had just risen when two vans—one a Nissan, the other a Peykan—pulled into Jannatabad and stopped in front of the body washers building. The two young men who had delivered the shrouds the night before along with a number of guards stepped out of the vans.

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The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

A short time after he hung up, two young men on a motorcycle arrived. They said, “Brother Jahan Ara sent us.” They brought several bolts of denim with them. The body washers put in a call to Parvizpur asking him to come and help with the shrouding. We lit some pressure lamps, but only enough to give off a dim light; the bodies were male and we did not want them fully exposed.

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The Memoirs of Seyyedeh Zahra Hoseyni

I had not finished speaking when the forms of dogs appeared, and the sound was now coming from the garden area. They were running toward us. We were all crouched on the ground gathering stones, which we threw at the dogs. This only made them bolder, and they came at us more quickly, and at the same time increased the space between them. Some went to the left, others to the right.

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He returned my greeting and said amiably, “We miss Ali a lot; he is a real man. It would be a big help to have him here now—both as a tactician and a man of action. He could do many things. He is a strong and brave boy. I pray that he gets well soon and can be with us again.” Then he asked, “What is going on at Jannatabad? What problems have come up?”

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The men continued burying the dead. As there were no female corpses, I went to fetch the wheelbarrow beside the building. I managed to put several gravestones in it and wheel them away. The terrain in Jannatabad was uneven, which made handling the wheelbarrow difficult. It would hit a hole and lurch to one side, causing me to cry out. I had to bend over and put so much into wheeling it over the bumpy ground I could not straighten my back when I reached the graves.

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It was late afternoon on the September 26, 1980. I was standing outside the body washers building with the other girls. Leila had also taken a break and come outside. I introduced her to Sabah, Zohreh, Ashraf, and Afsaneh, telling them that we were sisters. As we exchanged pleasantries, I heard father calling me. I can not describe how happy that made me; not having seen him for two days, I missed him terribly.

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Speaking with Maryam made me feel better. Several other girls gathered around us while we were talking. It appeared that they were a group of well-bred young woman, all of whom became friends while working in the mosque. They were on a first-name basis. Maryam introduced me to them. Sabah Vatankhah was a slender girl with a dark complexion, tall with a unibrow and almond-shaped eyes. She wore a cloak with a floral check print and dark brown and white stripes.