On my fifty-fourth day in Chazzabeh: ten days after my due time for leave because of my own reluctance to go on leave; and in the midst of the war of cities I was sent on my first war leave of twenty days.
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A Void Life: The first month of directly experiencing the war taught me many lessons. It taught me about the emptiness men felt at the front and how to cope with it.
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Chazzabeh: The sun was still shining when I entered Neekvarz’ little tidy bunker. Originally, this bunker had been built with concrete by Iraqi forces when they had the region under control
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TO THE FRONT: We had already spent a week at the headquarters when we were assigned to different regiments and battalions. Some of us were to go to Sumar the same day; but most of us were quota of the battalions stationed in the south.
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Shelters walls and roofs are the first concerns of those who live in the bunkers in the war zones. One wants to assure they are strong enough to withstand any falling shrapnel.
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It was the second day of winter 1986. The sun had already set and the snow-spotted Alborz Mountains to the north of Tehran were still visible behind a haze of smoke hovering the city. Two night earlier I had toasted the birth of the Iranian god of Mehr
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The following is the opening part of my Iran-Iraq war memoirs that has been published in a book titled "A Path To Nowhere".
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با شیون بلند و غم آلود مرغ شب
در بستر مه آلود خواب درد
جنبیدیم.
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رنجهایی کشیده ام که مپرس
زهر هایی چشیده ام که مپرس
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راست بالای سبزوارانی ای رفیق
استاده بر جوکنارانی، ای رفیق.
تهمتنی و ریشه ات به ژرفنای
نوشیده آب کوهسارانی، ای رفیق.
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عزیزان نشسته در دل میخانه های گرم
جامتان لبریز و لبهاتان پر از لبخند؛
من دچار خشم توفانم.
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خورشید آذر است و هوا زهر زمهریر.
گرمای زندگی
کوچیده تا افقهای دور دست.
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