An Iranian christian soldier who took part in the Iran-Iraq war writes on his ordeal.

This piece belongs to a male member of Stealthy Freedom page which was sent along with a few photos.

“There was war, the front and the propaganda that was not short of brainwashing. And there was an abundance of kids of 14 and 15 years old like us at the front lines of the Iran/Iraq war.

I was not a Muslim, I was a Christian and had volunteered only to defend my homeland. I joined the war but never wore the YA ZAHRA (a religious slogan common during war) or LABEIK Khomeini (another war time slogan that meant YES to KHOMEINI) bandana nor was I a Karbala (a Muslim holy city in Iraq) zealot. I was a 15-year old Christian youth who wore a T-shirt that said “A Solder of Homeland” on the back. And how ironic that they gave me 25 lashes for this exact slogan, accused of being a communists and propagating communist thoughts.

But I still stayed and defended my land with the hope of attaining a free and peaceful country.
We marched on the mines with the chanting of Ahangaran and Kuwaitypour and courageously reclaimed my soil little by little.
The jest of each lecture and chant session was that the path to Ghods (paradise) was through Karbala and what simpletons were my cohorts losing their lives in order to reach Ghods.

The war ended leaving us with decimated cities, and devastated soles and spirits ruined by chemical weapons.
And we went on living; alley by alley, corner by corner of our towns, reminiscing the memories of our compatriots from whom only hejlehs (a small ornamental structure erected in the honor of a young person who has passed symbolizing a wedding that will never take place) remained.

The years went by while we stubbornly tried to attain a minimal freedom and peace which regrettably we never did.

Due to the repressions instituted after the war, half of the war fellows (like me) escaped the homeland, which for its defense would have given our lives; so that we could reach peace and freedom in another place, far away from our homeland. And the other half of those war kids are now either losing their lives on the noose or are singing for freedom behind bars. Or are dreaming of liberty in the slums of the city, wasted from the smoke of opiates. And it is a pity that under pressure from poverty, a great number of my sisters and mothers sell their bodies. Groups of my brothers and fathers, sell their kidneys and other body parts in order to feed their families.

I fought so that my sisters and mothers would freely deicide for their personal freedoms and to experience liberty without stealthy freedom. I fought so that everyone, side-by-side, without disagreements whisper their beliefs under the Iranian flag and freely shape the future destiny of the homeland.

I have fought with no claims. I fought so that the government and the nation would be each others’ support and to respect one another developing the homeland together hand in hand.

I without a country, far away from the homeland, me the 15-year-old kid of the front lines of the war of those arduous days, am tired, very tired. I am tired of hearing of Ghod’s name, Palestine and Lebanon; tired of hearing about lashing, flogging, stoning, executions and acid (acid thrown at women’s faces).

I want to tell the government that the young unstoppable Basij(Islamic militia) of the war days is tired; tired of cruelty, suppression, compulsory hijab, prison, torture and inequality.

I want to say that this Basiji of those days is fearful of the Basiji of today.
I want to say that my wants are not too much. However, I want a bit of respect and peace for my people and a bit of freedom and that, is all.
Yes, that is all. “