The Embankment Wounded Shoulders – 13

Diary of a Rescuer

Sabah Piri
Translated to English by M.B. Khoshnevisan

2025-7-6

The Embankment Wounded Shoulders – 13
Diary of a Rescuer

Sabah Piri
Translated to English by M.B. Khoshnevisan
Persian Version (1990)
Sooreh Mehr Publications

***

The next morning, I along with Haj Mojtaba and a few other guys set off towards Mahi Lake, with bullets raining down around them. Relying on God and their faith, the guys crossed dangerous passages and successfully fought off many enemy soldiers. As they progressed, the enemy casualties continued to rise. Bodies lay scattered in groups, and the guys even managed to capture several Iraqi underground camps. To the right of the Zaid outpost, there was a path leading to the fortress. Setting off from the left side of the fortress, they reached a mobile communications station that had been seized from the Iraqis. It was there that the guys intercepted Saddam's voice, and Haj Kowssari, the commander of the Division of the Prophet (blessings of God upon him and his progeny), was also present.

At around ten o'clock at night, we were assigned to go out onto the road with two other rescuers, bandage up any wounded people we saw, and send them back. The sound of gunfire and explosions echoed through the night, and bullets whizzed past us. We reached a place where an ammunition depot was burning. As we passed by, we reached a crossroads where an Iraqi tank was burning. I was passing by the flaming tank when I heard a snoring sound. I alerted the guys, and they listened carefully and heard the sound too. We looked around carefully, and suddenly in the darkness, my eyes fell on someone lying on the ground. He was wearing a black dress, and a snoring sound was coming from his throat. As we approached, we saw that it was a local diver. His head was wounded, and blood had clotted in his throat, causing him to choke. His mouth was locked shut. No matter what I tried, I couldn't open his mouth. I even tried stepping on his mouth with my foot, but it wouldn't budge. Finally, I had to insert an "airway" into his mouth as a bad smell was emanating from it. With all my effort, I successfully dislodged the blood clot from his throat, causing him to vomit and preventing suffocation. After rescuing the wounded man, we continued on our journey.

We arrived at the fort, which measured 6 meters wide and 2.5 meters high. Several enemy vehicles were ablaze, and we spotted three or four wounded soldiers whom I helped bandage. About 300 meters ahead, Habib's battalion was holding their ground in an area they had easily taken control of. A couple of hours later, Malek's battalion sprung into action. They began advancing from the left side of the fort, and we followed suit. To avoid direct enemy fire, we moved along the base of the fort's ridge, on the left side of Mahi Lake. The path was difficult for the guys due to water on the road's edge. Despite our efforts, we only managed to move forward about two hundred meters before realizing it was futile. We decided to part ways with Malek's battalion and head towards Habib's battalion. When we returned, we noticed that the road had improved, so we sprinted the two hundred meters. I instructed my companion, Mahmoud Teymouri, to dig a trench in this spot, leave our packs, and call for the guys to come by ambulance. This way, we could bandage the wounded and send them back on the better route. We quickly built the trench and took a break amidst heavy gunfire. As I stood up, I spotted a column advancing. Upon closer inspection, I realized it was Malek's battalion, moving in the same direction we had just come from. Habib's battalion had already moved ahead, and Malek's battalion was next in line. The guys, with flushed faces, marched through the fire, praying to Allah. The darkness of the night was pierced by the explosions, revealing tears streaming down the cheeks of some of the combatants.

The bride of martyrdom was just a few steps away from them. Witnessing these glorious and eternal scenes is a pleasure that not everyone can experience. Tears are no longer controllable, they flow freely. A few moments later, the rescuers arrived in an ambulance. The injuries were severe, and we spent the night bandaging the wounded. The scenes I witnessed that night were heartbreaking: bodies crushed and torn, and the dignity of the wounded who endured the pain and cried because they had not been martyred.

The weather had cleared when Haj Mojtaba arrived as well. Around noon, Ammar's battalion went into action, aiming to capture a fort ahead. The enemy had placed numerous strong obstacles there, and casualties were mounting. Exhausted, I fell asleep. By 7 am, the enemy's fire intensified. In the afternoon, I noticed the guys were withdrawing. The bravery and sacrifice were evident from this vantage point. The guys advanced towards the fort amidst heavy and deadly fire, launching RPGs to cover the wounded's retreat. They fought valiantly and resolutely. Despite having his leg amputated, one of them remained conscious and declared, "Do not worry, we will defeat them!" I was surprised to see that he was boosting our morale despite his amputated leg!

Commander "Yazdi" of the Ammar battalion encouraged the children to resist, and the troops fought with incredible determination, neutralizing the enemy's attack. It was during these moments that Commander "Ahmad Nowzad" of the Meqdad battalion fulfilled his wish and spread his wings. The guys’ perseverance continued until nightfall, bringing some peace with it. Despite the enemy's continuous firing throughout the night, fear had gripped them so much that they bombarded the area with all their weapons. When I emerged from the trench in the morning, I noticed that only the skeletons of the four ambulances remained; they were no longer usable due to the intensity of the explosions. It was puzzling - perhaps each ambulance had been hit by four mortars. However, our roofless trench had not been struck by a single mortar. That night, the guys prayed until morning, covering the trench's roof with prayers, causing the mortars to miss their target. The following day, a roof was placed on the trench, dirt was poured over it, and it was fixed. Despite the continued mortar strikes, the roof remained intact.

The following day, the Ansar al-Rasul and Shahadat battalions were in operation, but the fifth column collapsed, forcing the guys to retreat. That night, there were numerous casualties, and "Javad Sarraf," the commander of the Shahadat battalion, was martyred. The guys believed he was a true hero.

After two or three days, Haj Mojtaba allowed us to return. Our entire bodies were dirty and impure from working with blood, dirt, and fire for several days. This had drastically changed our appearance. We found shelter on Shahid Safavi Road, near Shahid Mameqani's bastion. The guys of the Jihad unit were our neighbors and had a bathhouse where we could clean up from the dirty work. After resting for two days, the Haji came and took us back to the same crossroads to bandage the wounded. There were many injured individuals there, some of whom had become martyrs. They had named the crossroads "The Shahadat Crossroads."

The road was blocked, so we had to keep moving forward. It was a dangerous situation, as the road was within enemy sight and we needed to drive quickly. There I saw Ghiyassi, kneeling in grief and grieving over the deaths of the wounded. He had been there for a few days, witnessing heartbreaking scenes. As we were treating three or four wounded individuals, we heard a sudden voice of Yahossein and a mortar explosion. The mortar had struck right above the head of one of the guys, and his final cry of "Yahossein" echoed through the air as he was martyred.

The number of wounded continued to grow, with many in critical condition. We were at a loss for what to do when a guy from the 25th Division of Karbala arrived, requesting to retrieve a P.M.P.

To be continued …