In the canon of Iranian war literature, few works have captured the raw essence of sacrifice and resilience like Nouraddin, Son of Iran.
This 700-page memoir, published in 2011 by Sureh Mehr Publications, recounts the life of Seyyed Nouraddin Afi—a sixteen-year-old boy from the village of Khanjan near Tabriz—who defied age, injury, and loss to serve nearly 80 months on the frontlines of the Iran-Iraq War.
Nouraddin’s journey began in December 1980, just three months after the war erupted. Like many young Iranian volunteers, he had to persuade both his family and local officials to allow his deployment.
He joined the elite 31st Ashura Division, serving as a free agent, diver, and squad commander. His battlefield experience was marked by repeated injuries and the devastating loss of his younger brother, Seyyed Sadegh, who was martyred before his eyes.
Despite enduring severe wounds and being classified as a 70% disabled veteran, Nouraddin remained on the frontlines for nearly seven years. His story is not just one of physical endurance, but of spiritual and emotional fortitude.
The memoir’s origins trace back to 1994, when interviewer Mousa Ghiour recorded 40 hours of conversations with Nouraddin in Azarbaijani.
Nearly a decade later, writer Masoumeh Sepehri undertook the monumental task of transcribing and editing these interviews.
She supplemented the material with additional interviews from Nouraddin and his comrades, crafting a narrative that is both faithful and compelling.
Nouraddin’s motivation to share his memories stemmed from a dream in which he saw Ayatollah Khamenei reading his memoirs and weeping.
In the dream, someone said, “These are the memories of a 70% disabled veteran who served 80 months in the war and still says he did nothing.” This vision stirred Nouraddin’s sense of duty to preserve the legacy of his generation.
The memoir is lauded for its candid storytelling and subtle humor. Sepehri’s writing preserves Nouraddin’s voice, including his regional dialect and understated wit. One vivid account describes one of his injuries:
“I shouted, ‘Don’t shoot!’ and hugged the shell to divert the fire. But Fandreski fired the cannon. The blast threw me into the air like a feather. I landed with my neck twisted between my legs. The smell—burnt flesh, gunpowder, blood, and dust—filled my nose. I tried to free my neck, but couldn’t. I felt like a ball. When they finally pulled my head out, I saw my flesh falling off. My clothes were gone. Even my grenades and ammo had vanished. The boys were crying. I was reciting the Shahada, but not screaming. I’ve always been like that since childhood.”
The memoir’s enduring appeal lies in ten key attributes:
First, the language is fluent and accessible. Thanks to Sepehri’s careful editing, the narrative flows smoothly while retaining the authenticity of Nouraddin’s voice.
Second, the book avoids glorification, presenting events with honesty—even when they reflect moral ambiguity, such as Nouraddin taking a fellow soldier’s magazine pouch.
Third, moments of levity are woven throughout, including a soldier’s grim joke about the outcomes of war and Nouraddin’s quip about attracting a battalion of suitors.
Fourth, the memoir doesn’t shy away from hardship. In one scene, Nouraddin prays with tears for his family’s survival, revealing his vulnerability.
Fifth, a doctor warns Nouraddin that his body will question him on Judgment Day. Nouraddin replies, “This body should thank me. I didn’t ruin it with indulgence. God knows where each wound came from.”
Sixth, the memoir highlights societal contradictions—such as a nurse distracted by television or a judicial officer questioning Nouraddin’s decision to fight, only to later fabricate his own war record.
Seventh, Nouraddin dedicates the book to martyr Amir (Hooshang Maralbash). When Amir’s father heard of his son’s death, he says, “Thank God one of you is still alive.”
Eighth, in one scene, a pigeon at Imam Reza’s shrine locks eyes with Nouraddin, lifting his sorrow and bringing peace to his heart.
Ninth, the memoir offers precise, unembellished depictions of injuries and battlefield conditions, including the painful process of cleaning wounds filled with gravel and burns.
Tenth, Nouraddin didn’t seek fame. He only shared his story after a spiritual awakening, believing it was his duty to honor his comrades and educate future generations.
The book concludes with a series of photographs arranged chronologically, offering a visual narrative that complements the written one. These images of Nouraddin and his fellow soldiers serve as a poignant reminder of the passage of time and the enduring impact of war.
Ayatollah Khamenei’s heartfelt praise for the memoir elevated its status nationally. His emotional reaction, mirroring Nouraddin’s dream, underscored the book’s power to move even the highest echelons of Iranian leadership.
Nouraddin, Son of Iran is more than a memoir—it’s a cultural touchstone. It captures the spirit of a generation that faced unimaginable trials with courage and faith. For readers seeking to understand the human cost of war and the resilience of the Iranian people, this book is essential.
As Nouraddin himself wrote, “I told my story so that those extraordinary moments would live on forever.” And live on they do—in every page, every photograph, and every tear shed by those who read his words.
In conclusion, the book stands as a monumental achievement in war literature, not for its grand military strategies, but for its profound intimacy.
The memoir’s power is rooted in its unflinching honesty—a quality that transforms a personal account into a universal testament to sacrifice.
Noureddin’s journey, marked by profound loss and severe disability, is narrated without a trace of self-aggrandizement, embodying the very humility he dreamed of.
This is not a story of glory, but one of duty, resilience, and the quiet, often humorous, humanity that persists amidst chaos.
Masoumeh Sepehri’s masterful curation of his voice ensures that the narrative remains authentically his, preserving the regional dialect and understated wit that make Noureddin so vividly real.
The book’s enduring legacy is cemented by its fulfillment of that poignant vision: it moves its readers, from the highest leader to the common citizen, to bear witness.
It ensures that the sacrifices of a generation are not reduced to statistics but are remembered as individual acts of love and faith.
Noureddin, Son of Iran is an essential, humbling, and unforgettable read, a vital conduit ensuring that the echoes of those “extraordinary moments” never fade from Iran’s collective memory.
Reported by Tohid Mahmoudpour
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