SABAH (67)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami
Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

2021-7-6

SABAH (67)

Memoirs of Sabah Vatankhah

Interviewed and Compiled by Fatemeh Doustkami

Translated by Natalie Haghverdian

Published by Soore Mehr Publishing Co.

Persian Version 2019

Chapter Fifteen

I was standing at the entrance of our base in Zolfaghari with Ashraf. Dr. Mostafavi came and said that he wants to go to Sarbandar for a task. He said that if we like, we can accompany him. We decided to go. We had heard that Zahra Hosseini has gone to her family in Sarbandar. We could visit auntie Maryam and Amoo Hejab as well as Zahra Hosseini. I had no access to my family but at least I could see my aunt. Maybe she could give me news about my family. I also told Elaheh to join us but she said: “I am afraid. My dad might not allow let return.”

As Abadan was in full siege of Iraqis, the only exit point was through a village called Chubede village. Chubede was a blind point in Abadan and was located in East South. It was located at the end of Abadan reaching Persian Gulf and was not even mentioned on the map. The members of Mahshahr Army said despite the siege of Abadan, a number of Arabs have been going from Abadan to Mahshahr to shop for a while. They all claimed that they have to go back soon since their families and children are waiting for them. Team members that knew that the whole neighborhood of Abadan is in Iraqi’s control and commuting out of it to Mahshahr is impossible, get sensitive and asked them how have they travel out of Abadan? How do you want to go back? They claimed through Chubede! Then they take the forces to Chubede and they themselves return to Abadan with boats and arks! After that Chubede became a location for the commute of forces, transfer of injured and logistics.

After enquiring, we understood that as an aid worker we can exit Abadan. The responsibility of transfer of injured who needed more treatment, was on the shoulders of nurses and aid workers. In order to be able to accompany the injured out of Abadan, we had to register in hospital. Ashraf, Dr. Mostafavi and I went to OPD hospital and registered ourselves as aid workers.

The order was only issued by war bureau. Thanks God we got our orders on the same day. A number of buses for transfer of injured entered the OPD Oil Company hospital. They had removed the chairs of the bus and had placed mattresses on the floor. Each bus could accommodate about ten twelve injured soldiers. It took us from morning to four in the afternoon to place the injured in the buses and prepare them for their move to Chubede. We got into one of the buses and set out.

The buses passed Khosro Abad and after about two hours we reached Chubede. On the way the whining of patients could be heard. Most of them were in unconscious state.

The nurses attended to all patients and were careful. Although none of them had open wounds and none needed immediate attention, but some of the patients had to receive injection or medication on a specific time and this was the responsibility of the nurse dispatched with them. There were three nurses in each bus; nurses with interesting appearances! The Hejab law was not approved in the country so all of them were wearing trousers with shirts or skirts with shirts and none were waring stockings or scarves. They all wore only jackets to be safe from cold.

Chubede was a village with mud houses and the main road had just been covered with asphalt by Jahad team. In the village, the front parts of houses were mostly located besides each other and on a line, there was a few hectares bare land which reached Persian Gulf. When we got out of the bus, we had to walk five to ten minutes on foot to reach the first house. Besides us from three buses, there was a big population in the village. There were all kinds of people: Army and military forces, nurses, aid workers, injured and normal people. Besides the population, there were a large number of big packages covered with plastic and wood lumbers. I didn’t figure out what were inside those packages.

Besides the launches, the transportation of individuals and packages from Chubede was done with equipment called hover craft. I had never seen hover craft before and I had only heard the name from others. Around half an hour later, the figure of a strange object appeared from far. Hover craft was a big oval and red volume and had a big and wide and black tube around it like a belt. The main body was placed on this tube. This equipment could move both in water and in land. When it was in the water, the tube part was filled with air but when it entered the land, the tube was emptied. When it came from water to land, a loud sound and big pile of dust and sand escalated. When it got on the land, the doors were opened and it was ready to accommodate items.

Army and military forces and their facilities along with few people got into the hover craft since they had come sooner. The capacity was full and we had to wait for the next one. Nobody knew how many hours we had to wait; half an hour; two hours; five hours?

Ashraf, Dr. Mostafavi and I started walking on the shore of the Persian Gulf. Around one hour we just walked without talking and watched the sunset. The sunset of Persian Gulf was very beautiful and magical; contrary to the sad sunsets of Khorramshahr.

It was getting dark. I told Ashraf: “what happens if the hover craft does not come until tomorrow? How can we stay among all these men during the night?” Ashraf said: “yes, you are right. But what can we do?! We have no place to go.” I said: “Let’s go to the house of one of the villagers. I am sure they will let us stay in their house during the night when they see that we are only two girls. It would be better.”

Dr. Mostafavi said that he will wait there for the hover craft. We said farewell and walked towards one of the houses. We were not worried about the hover craft and to be left behind. When the hover craft arrived, it would make so much noise that it was impossible not to notice it.

At the entrance of the first house, an old Arab couple was standing. The old man had wrinkled and sunburnt face. We greeted them and said: “dear father, we want to go to Mahshahr, can we stay at hour place for tonight?”

The old man placed his hands on his eyes and said: “Alayouni[1].”

The old woman also said: “Fadolich[2].”

They were very kind and welcome us warmly. Many of the families who had stayed there like this elderly couple had nowhere to go or had returned for their animals.

We went inside. We went to lavatory, got ablution and stood for prayers. The old woman was looking at us constantly. I knew the spirits of Arabs. For them those who had Hejab and said prayers, they had special respect. When we were done with our prayers, the old woman set the table. The dinner was bread and cheese. For us that had not sat around any table, this was a royal gathering.

We had dinner. Then we had tea and dates. I did not like dates and raisins but when my mother made Moasal for winter, I ate a little bit. My mother took out the cores of the dates and then added ginger, cinnamon and sesame. At the last stage she poured date syrup on them and mixed them quite well. Moasal had a good taste. It was both sweet and spicy.

Late that night, two other nurses also joined our group. They had come to the house of the villagers to have a shelter during the night and then leave for Mahshahr in the morning. I asked them about the injured soldiers. I was worried that all nurses might have come to the village and left the soldiers unattended but they said that most of the nurses have stayed with the wounded and only a few have come to village.

The old woman brought us blankets. We slept sooner than we thought.

In the morning, the old woman woke us for prayer. Then she arranged breakfast. We ate the same homemade breads from last night with a cup of tea and a small portion of cheese. After having breakfast, we waited until the sunrise and then thanked the old couple and bid them farewell. The old woman kept our hand into hers and was praying with her accent in Arabic language.

We had just arrived at the edge of Persian Gulf that the hover craft arrived. The hover craft crew transferred the wounded who were in bad condition inside the hover craft with full care and then moved the rest of the wounded inside. Among the patients, those who had lost a body part were among those who were more restless. While waiting for the hover craft, their wounds had lost their anesthetics and they were in pain. Poor soldiers were all young. I felt so sorry for them.

After transferring the wounded inside, the hover craft crew announced that female aid workers should get inside. This offended the nurses and hospital crew, since they were the official forces of the hospital but they were not a priority. They were very upset and frowned at us. We got in first, and then they got in.

There was one row of chairs all around the hover craft. We sat on the chairs. The chairs had red leather covers. The frame of the chair was made of compressed plastic and tubes and there was no metal and iron in them. They were made of light material to be light due to the nature of the work it did.

The wounded soldiers were lying on the floor and the smallest space was used; there was no free space. Dr. Mostafavi got inside the hover craft and sat with us. Abd Mohammadi was with him. We greeted each other. Abd, Younes Mohammadi’s brother was the representative of Khorramshahr people in Islamic Council Parliament. His mother was among those women who helped in Jame mosque in cooking and other tasks prior to the fall of the city. Abd was going to Sarbandar to visit them.

To be continued …