The 368th Night of Remembrance – Part 1
Compiled by: Iranian Oral History Website
Translated by Kianoush Borzouei
2025-07-05
The 368th session of the Night of Remembrance was held on 1 Khordad 1404 in the Andisheh Hall of the Artistic Sect of the Islamic Republic, commemorating the martyrs of public service. In this session, Seyed Mohammad Jowzi, Sardar Nasrollah Saeedi, and Masoud Dehnamaki recounted their personal memories. The program was hosted by Davoud Salehi.
The first speaker of the evening was Seyed Mohammad Jowzi, born on September 27, 1962, in Tehran, and a neighbor of the Ayatollah Shahabadi Mosque. He entered the revolutionary movement at the age of 16 and became a political prisoner. In the middle of the revolutionary disruption, he joined Army Base 06, took up arms, and after the victory of the revolution formally became a member of the mosque's Islamic Committee. Following the events in Kurdistan, he joined the war front and remained there until the end of the Iran–Iraq War.
He comes from a large family—ten brothers and one sister. During the years of the imposed war, sometimes half of the brothers were simultaneously stationed on the frontlines. This remarkable family has conducted interviews with over 15,000 families of martyrs, meticulously preserving their memories. They have archived approximately 100 terabytes of material—memories, photographs, videos, and handwritten notes related to the martyrs. The narrator himself lost two brothers in the war—one was 33 years old, married with three children, and the other was 14, who had already served three years at the front, meaning he had joined the war effort at the age of 11.
Jowzi began his remarks by recalling the final days of the war. He said:
“When Iraq launched its final offensives, I wanted to call my other brothers and ask them to return to the front. At the time, one of my friends, Mojtaba Rahimian—the only son of his family—was speaking to his mother on the phone. I could hear her saying, ‘Mojtaba, you’re my only son. I have so many dreams for you.’ But Mojtaba replied, ‘Mother, don’t you feel ashamed when Ms.Zahra has several sons at the front?’ After that, she fell silent.
Two of my brothers were martyred; two others were wounded. Their sacrifices are a source of honor for our family.”
Referring to the ongoing tragedy in Gaza, he continued:
“In our neighborhood, two martyr brothers—Mohammadreza and Aliakbar Khani—lived. They were their mother’s only sons. Mohammadreza served in the intelligence unit of Division 10, and Aliakbar in the intelligence unit of Division 27, Mohammad Rasulullah.
Those who viewed the hardships of war’s end as a badge of honor caused others to hesitate in joining the frontlines. Near the end of the war, Mohammadreza composed a couplet which I now recite in relation to Gaza’s suffering:
‘The orb of grace and glory has been cast into the field—
Yet no one rides forth; where are the warriors?’
‘Hundreds of thousands of flowers have bloomed, but no bird has sung—
What has befallen the nightingales? What fate has stilled the throngs?’
Today, a shame greater than any medal hangs not around the necks of America, Israel, or the West—but around the necks of Muslims who watch in silence and apathy.”
He continued:
“Because of my work at the Martyrs Foundation, for 22 years I documented martyr families' recollections with every camera that came into my hands. The mother of martyr Keshvari would sit with us over breakfast for an hour before beginning her storytelling. The parents of martyrs Hossein and Davoud Fahmideh used to visit and recount memories for two hours.”
He recalled:
“Seyed Alireza went to the front at age 11 and was martyred at 14. I was skeptical—how could a child so young be martyred? But when I read his two-page will, I realized the vast gulf between his spiritual stature and ours.
In the film that was screened just now, many of those sharing their stories have since passed on. Out of 15,000 interviews, at least 13,000 are now irreplaceable—because those individuals are no longer with us.
We have not yet utilized most of these recorded memories. In addition to film, we have audio tapes of the martyrs—given to us by their families—as well as photos, letters, and last wills. From 1,500 wills, we have transcribed about 1,200–1,300. Each one, in my view, could become a book—ranging from 30 to 300 pages. We’ve digitized and printed each one, and gifted copies to the families.”
He then shared another recollection:
“We were stationed in the Jundallah Battalion in Bukan. Whether it was 2 a.m., 4 a.m., or 5 p.m.—whenever counter-revolutionary forces appeared, we would mobilize.
Once, four of us armed fighters were patrolling Bukan’s bazaar when two small children approached me. One of them shouted, ‘Jash-e past!’—a derogatory slur meaning ‘wretched mercenary’, and then ran off. A fruit seller grabbed him, but I told him, ‘Let him go; he learned that insult from you.’
I took the boy’s hand and asked, ‘What do you want me to buy you?’ Then I introduced my brother to them and told him to befriend the children and do cultural outreach. My brother was a calligrapher and painter, so I sent him to Kurdistan. He was martyred on July 23, 1988, on the road between Ahvaz and Khorramshahr, near Kushk Junction. He was with the Al-Zahra Brigade.
One of his fellow fighters said: ‘We were in a truck on Ghorban Eid morning. There were five Sayyids on board, and all were martyred. Your brother’s body had been mutilated—his head and one arm were missing—but his heart was still beating. When I saw his dog tag still around his neck, I tucked it into his sock so the body could be identified later.’”
He went on:
“My eldest brother was 33 when martyred and had three children. He was an ambulance driver for Division 27, alongside martyr Ebrahim Salehabadi. When my brother went on leave, Ebrahim was martyred. My brother cut his leave short, saying: ‘I have to go back—no one else can fill Ebrahim’s shoes.’
He returned, and within five days, he too was martyred and brought home.”
He then shared a story about martyr Habib Chizari:
“We were in Al-Mahdi Battalion, Division 10 Seyyed al-Shohada. Habib was an official IRGC member from the Shemiranat base and worked hard organizing deployments.
When I later reviewed photo archives, I realized that two individuals had taken the most pictures of fighters: Habib Chizari and Hossein Nowrouzi. They would always keep a copy for themselves in albums.
The IRGC initially prohibited Habib from going to the front. He saved up all his leave, accumulated a month, and joined Al-Mahdi Battalion. He was martyred in Operation Karbala-5. When his body was left behind, I personally went to identify him.
We had captured an Iraqi POW, and despite being thin, I instructed him—using my broken Arabic—to carry a wounded comrade, Hossein Hatami, whose intestines had spilled out. The POW asked for water. As I went to fetch it, I saw Habib’s body. I removed his dog tag—IRGC tags were split in two, so that one part could confirm martyrdom if the body wasn’t recovered.
After we placed the wounded in the ambulance, Iraqi forces shot their own POW in the leg. We were too weak to carry him, so we left him behind.”
He also referenced a photo of martyr Ramin Abghari:
“Ramin came from an affluent family and had two brothers—Mohammad Hossein and Arash. I’m astonished that he abandoned life in America to come to the front. His friends said someone from Vozara Street had written to him: ‘Come and witness Iran’s frontlines.’
Initially indifferent, Ramin changed when news of his friend’s martyrdom reached him. He came to Iran, was wounded three or four times, and never once took a leave.
While many of us took two-month leaves after 90 days, he stayed for over a year—12 to 13 months—despite being injured multiple times.
I spoke with his mother. She said: ‘Each time I dreamt he was wounded. The last time, before returning to the front, he came into the kitchen and said: “You’re not willing for me to become a martyr. You must pray for it.” I replied: May God grant you whatever you seek.’
He was martyred in Operation Beit al-Moqaddas 2.”
He concluded this portion of his talk:
“In my view, every single interview has the potential to become a book. Let me give one example. I once interviewed a martyr’s family and asked the mother to send me anything that remained—letters, belongings, notes—to include in the interview. She replied, ‘We have nothing left.’ I was shocked. ‘How is that possible?’ I asked.
She explained: ‘After the funeral, our daughter invited us to our home in Karaj. That Friday morning, we received a call: “Come back to Tehran immediately.”
We lived on Piroozi Street. When we arrived, we saw that a missile had struck the house—nothing remained, not even a spoon.’
She then told her husband: ‘Make a banner: Our home is gone. Our son is gone. But we remain steadfast behind our leader—our beloved Khomeini.’”
To be continued…
Number of Visits: 20
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