87: Chapter 84 The Attack on Iraq

At 12:00 PM, Iraq's attack came to a complete halt.

It was not because they chose to stop, but because they no longer had the strength to continue the offensive.

Out of 300 tanks, over 120 were destroyed or immobilized; of the 12,000 soldiers who participated, there were over 1,500 casualties.

The Iraqi frontline commander wrote a sentence in his report to Baghdad that sent Saddam Hussein into a rage:

"What we have encountered in Khuzestan is not an army, but an iron wall."

After reading the report, Saddam Hussein finally smashed his teacup this time.

"An iron wall?" he roared, "The exiled prince from five years ago has become an iron wall after five years?"

No one dared to answer.

At 2:00 PM, Reza stood on a high ground on the second line of defense, witnessing the scene of the battlefield with his own eyes.

In the distance were the burning remains of tanks, and thick black smoke formed a wall in the sky. Nearby, soldiers were clearing the battlefield, dragging the corpses of Iraqi soldiers from the destroyed tanks and arranging them neatly in an open space.

The air was filled with a scent mixed with tar, blood, and gunpowder.

"Your Highness," Hassan walked up to him, his face still bearing traces of smoke, "It will take at least another two hours to clear the battlefield. We have found the corpse of the commander of the Iraqi southern attack group—he was killed by a missile in the command post, and his identity has been confirmed."

"It is good that it has been confirmed," Reza said, "Send the photo of the corpse to Karimi and have him pass it to the Iraqi side through proper channels. Tell Saddam Hussein that his man is being returned to him. But include one sentence."

"What sentence?"

"'Next time, I will personally deliver his corpse back to Baghdad.'"

Hassan paused for a moment, then nodded.

At 4:00 PM, Karimi sent news from Tehran.

"The Supreme Defense Council has just passed a resolution," Karimi said, "authorizing all your military operations in Khuzestan Province without the need for step-by-step approval. At the same time, a brigade of the Revolutionary Guard will be placed under your command as a reward for your military achievements."

"A brigade?" Reza asked, "Who is leading it?"

"The commander is named Mohsen Rajai—he is the younger brother of that Ali Rajai from before. Ayatollah Khomeini designated him personally."

Reza quickly evaluated this arrangement in his mind. Ayatollah Khomeini was giving him the strength of a brigade, but the commander was Ayatollah Khomeini's own man—this was strengthening his military capability while simultaneously planting a loyal observer by his side.

"Accept it," Reza said, "Have Rajai report to Ahvaz tomorrow."

On October 4th, Rajai arrived in Ahvaz.

He was a few years younger than his brother, in his early thirties, and the expression on his face was much more mature than his age. The first thing he said upon meeting Reza was: "Your Highness, I have brought 2,300 men, fully equipped and ready to enter battle at any time."

Reza looked at him and asked: "Have your men fought in a war?"

"Most have not," Rajai said, "but they have been training for two years, and their morale is very high."

"High morale does not equal the ability to fight," Reza said, "What I need are people who can remain calm on the battlefield and complete missions under artillery fire. Your men need combat training. For the next two weeks, I will have Hassan lead them in intensive training—not drill training, but live-fire training."

"What kind of live-fire training?"

"Target practice, shooting at moving targets, shooting at night targets," Reza said, "and then—shooting at captured Iraqi tanks."

Rajai paused: "Captured Iraqi tanks?"

"We have captured at least thirty Iraqi T-62s, half of which are still operational," Reza said, "Your men can use these tanks as targets to practice anti-tank tactics. Training with real tanks is more effective than any simulation."

Rajai was silent for two seconds, then said: "I agree."

On October 5th, Reza gathered Hassan, Karimi, Rajai, and Fatima for a brief operational meeting.

The core topic of the meeting was only one: the counterattack plan for the next phase.

"Iraq's second wave of attacks has been repelled," Reza said, "Saddam Hussein now has three choices: first, continue to increase troops and launch a third wave of attacks; second, switch to defense and hold the existing battle line; third, seek ceasefire negotiations."

"Which one will he choose?" Hassan asked.

"He will choose the first," Reza said, "because his personality does not allow him to accept defeat. He will continue to increase troops and continue to launch attacks until he loses so much that he cannot lose anymore."

"And what about us?"

"We will not give him the opportunity for a third wave of attacks," Reza said, "While he is mobilizing troops in Baghdad, we will strike into Iraq."

He walked to the map and pointed at the point south of the Zubair Oilfield.

"The target remains unchanged, the southern Pump Station of the Zubair Oilfield. The operation time is set for the early morning of October 12th."

"Why October 12th?" Rajai asked.

"Because on October 11th, Iraq will move most of the troops from the southern military region to the front line, preparing to launch the third wave of attacks. Their rear will become empty. The early morning of October 12th is exactly when they are at their weakest."

Reza looked at everyone present and said a concluding sentence:

"For the past five years, we have been preparing to defend. Now, it is our turn to attack."

October 12th, 1980, 1:00 AM, Khuzestan Province, south of Ahvaz.

The last two hours before the counterattack.

Reza did not hold a pre-battle mobilization. He did not believe in such things—on the battlefield, what truly makes people fight with their lives is not slogans, but trust. Trust that your commander will not send you into a death trap, trust that your comrades beside you will continue to complete the mission after you fall, and trust that the weapon in your hand will not jam at the most critical moment.

This kind of trust is not achieved by words.

Before setting off, he only did one thing—he walked to the assembly point of each squad, shook hands with the officer leading the team, and said "Stay safe." There were no extra words, but everyone whose hand he had shaken had something different in their eyes.

At 1:00 AM sharp, Hassan sent a signal: "All units are in position."

Reza said one word in the communication channel: "Move."

The counterattack force was divided into three routes.

The northern route, Rajai's Revolutionary Guard brigade, was responsible for pinning down the Iraqi garrisons on the border, creating the illusion that the "Iranian main force is moving north." Their task was not to capture any target, but to strike, withdraw, and strike again, making the Iraqis mistakenly believe that Iran's main attack direction was in the north.

The central route, Hassan's rapid reaction force, with 120 modified pickup trucks carrying RPGs and heavy machine guns, was responsible for breaking through the gap in Iraq's southern defense line and thrusting directly into the Zubair Oilfield Pump Station.

The southern route, the main force commanded personally by Reza, with 300 various vehicles—including T-62s repaired after being captured, armored personnel carriers transferred from the country, and a large number of trucks loaded with infantry—was responsible for expanding the results after Hassan's breakthrough, occupying and consolidating the defensive positions around the Pump Station.

Three routes of troops, three tasks, three time nodes, must be precise to the minute.

At 2:15 AM, Rajai's northern route troops fired the first shot.

Their target was a sentry post at the northernmost end of Iraq's southern defense line, with a garrison of about one company, equipped mainly with light weapons. Rajai used one battalion to feign an attack from the front, and another battalion to flank from the side; after fighting for fifteen minutes, they wiped out the garrison and captured the sentry post.

Then he did something that Reza had specifically instructed—he planted the Iraqi military flag from the sentry post at the highest point, and then painted an Iranian flag mark on it.

This was for the Iraqi reconnaissance planes to see.

At 2:40 AM, the commander of Iraq's southern defense line received the battle report from the northern route, and at the same time, photos sent back by reconnaissance planes showed that the Iranian flag had been planted over the northern sentry post.

The commander made a logical judgment—Iran's main attack direction was in the north.

He moved the reserves to the north.

And the southern defense line developed a gap.

At 3:00 AM sharp, Hassan set off.

120 pickup trucks, divided into three waves, 40 vehicles per wave, set off at five-minute intervals. The convoy did not turn on its headlights, only faint driving lights, speeding south in the desert like a group of ghosts.

Their breakthrough point was one that Reza had spent a whole month finding—a gap about three kilometers long on Iraq's southern defense line, with swamps on both sides and a dried-up riverbed in the middle. The ground of the riverbed was hard enough to support the weight of the pickup trucks, but not enough for tanks to pass through.

The Iraqis did not lay mines here, because they did not believe any armored vehicles could pass through here.

They underestimated the mobility of the pickup trucks.

At 3:35 AM, Hassan's first wave of the convoy passed through the riverbed, without triggering any mines and without encountering any resistance. The second and third waves followed closely behind, and all passed through.

120 pickup trucks, all personnel entered Iraqi territory.