My father was not crazy about attaining martyrdom. He got what he wanted after eight years and it was the beginning of a sweet life. But he fought knowing that he might be killed at any instant.
When they were sent to Majnoon Island with few weapons, my father would take pictures and play soccer, he would wear eau de cologne, and it was very important for him to wear well-ironed shirts and trousers. He wouldn’t enjoy killing people, but they were at war and it was no joke. He had to kill in order to avoid getting killed.
My father was a revolutionary guard, but he never sold his honor.