Chapter 19
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 019
Chapter Title: Conditions for the Coup. 8 - War is the Cradle of Heroes (2)
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September 23, 1980.
Khuzestan Province, Iran.
Descending from the vast Zagros Mountains that block Iran's western frontier reveals a relatively gentle plain stretching about 200 kilometers along the coast of the Persian Gulf.
The border between Iraq and Iran.
The land through which the Shatt al-Arab flows.
Khuzestan—the gateway through which Persia once expanded outward, and a region etched into history as the invasion route for Arab tribes and Western forces.
Once again, the roar of artillery and gunfire echoed across the border with Iraq in Khuzestan.
Inside a bunker dug beneath an observation post manned by the Khuzestan Border Guard, tasked with watching the frontier.
The border guards, exhausted after three weeks of monotonous gunfire and shelling, were utterly worn out.
"Those damn bastards! How long are they gonna keep up this bullshit?"
"What are you saying? What if this turns into a real war?"
"Shit. If it happens, it happens. Just sweep 'em clean and be done with it. Iraqi scum. Like they're anything special."
"You idiot. It's not the Iraqis who are the problem—it's us."
"Us?"
"Yeah. Don't you know who's sitting at the top now? The Revolutionary Guard has taken every damn seat. All those guys know how to do is grab a rifle, scream like maniacs, and charge. And those are the ones starting a war? No way in hell. They're probably praying it doesn't break out. I sure as hell don't wanna be human shield taking bullets on their insane orders."
At that moment, another barrage thundered from outside.
Kwa-kwang-kwang~~!!
The shells, now closer, rang in their ears, and the shockwaves vibrated through their soles.
The guards grimaced.
"Damn. These crazy sons of bitches. They're really losing it today. They wanna go for real?"
Just as he spat out his frustration—
A guard waiting outside the post kicked the door open and shouted.
Thud!!
"Big trouble!"
"Aw, crap. What now?"
"O-over there. Tanks. "
"What? Tanks are coming."
The guards' faces went slack as they instinctively glanced at each other.
And then.
They bolted reflexively from the bunker and rushed up to the post.
"Th-there!!"
No need for the sentry's explanation or binoculars.
In the dawn twilight, as the first light reddened the earth and chased away the gloom,
Across the plain, tank battalions spread wide like a crane unfurling its wings charged straight toward them.
"S-sound the alarm! Invasion! The Iraqis are invading..."
His frantic cry filled the post—right then.
Starting with one shell, dozens more rained down on the post and the surrounding hundreds of meters.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwang-kwang-kwang-kwang-kwang~~!!!
The Iraqi forces swept the Khuzestan border area with suppressive fire, then crossed the line spearheaded by over 500 tanks.
September 23.
The Iraqi Army launched a full-scale invasion across the entire border region, led by T-55 tanks.
And simultaneously,
Nearly 190 Iraqi Air Force fighters and bombers waiting in Mosul, Nasiriyah, and other areas struck Iranian airbases in the west and south.
Beeeep~~~~!!
The sirens wailed piercingly across the runways of the airbases at dawn.
"Air raid alert! Air raid alert!"
"All pilots to the hangars—prepare for scramble!"
"Alert to all personnel! This is not a drill. Real situation. All units assume combat readiness immediat—"
As pilots stumbled from barracks, hastily dressing and racing to the hangars,
Fighters and bombers that had crossed the border at Mach 2.0—1,500 miles per hour—penetrated Iranian airspace and hammered the airbases.
A formation of 16 fighters struck the Shiraz Airbase in southwestern Iran.
The low-flying aircraft dropped their air-to-ground bombs over the base.
Tung. Tung. Tung-tung-tung-tung~~~!!
Whiiiuuu~~~!!!
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwang-kwang-kwang~~~!!!
Flames devoured the runways,
Shaking the hangar roofs.
Kwa-kwa-kwang-kwang~~~!!!
Some hit the barracks, collapsing entire buildings,
Detonating nearby warehouses like fireworks.
Kwa-kwang-kwang-kwang~!!!!
The surprise massive bombing pounded key Iranian airbases and western defensive strongpoints.
Following up, Iraq's army—the strongest in the Arab world—blitzed through the border in moments and pushed toward Khorramshahr.
Iranian Royal Palace.
War had loomed thick since the day before, so preparations were already in place.
As he entered the reception room,
Hassan, looking like he'd pulled an all-nighter, served freshly brewed tea alongside reports on a tray.
He sat, reaching for a cup while skimming the documents.
Hassan, standing beside him, began the briefing.
"Iraqi ground forces have crossed the border. Three main axes: northwest at Khanaqin, southern Zagros at Khuzestan, and Persian Gulf sector. Fastest advance is Khuzestan, of course. Their elite 3rd Corps is heading that way."
"Not just ground forces, surely."
"Right after they crossed, about 190 Iraqi aircraft breached our airspace first. Seems aimed at crippling our airbases."
"Any damage on our side?"
"Some runways, barracks, and facilities hit, but overall air strength losses minimal. Thanks to Your Highness's prior orders to store aircraft in hardened hangars."
In early September, he'd disseminated orders via scholars to each airbase.
- All standby aircraft to hardened hangars, not runways.
Even against Iraq's surprise mass airstrikes, the fortified hangars took no hits.
Moreover, most Iraqi pilots—lacking combat experience—didn't know how to properly target, wasting bombs on runways.
Runways could be repaired.
In effect, the Iraqi initial air raid had been a bust.
"Good. Now it's our turn to get ready. Contact the Air Force."
"Your orders, sire."
"Prepare counteroffensive in 48 hours. Targets: Baghdad and eastern/southern Iraqi airbases. One strike to break their momentum—secure air superiority first."
"Yes, Your Highness. We'll prepare."
"And prep mine too."
"You'll join again?"
"Who else can punch through Baghdad's tight air defenses?"
Hassan hesitated worriedly, then bowed in resignation.
"We'll have it at peak readiness."
"Good."
He sipped his tea again, the warmth soothing his throat and stomach.
His excited mind settled.
His trembling hands steadied.
But picturing the F-14 Tomcat arming up for scramble at the airbase, his heart pounded anew.
"Me, getting this hyped already. Total addiction. Dopamine junkie."
Tehran.
With the Islamic Republic's formal launch, so too came the president, cabinet ministers, and official structures.
News of the Iraqi invasion spread,
Drawing President Banisadr and all ministers, military brass to Army HQ.
Emergency cabinet meeting in a makeshift conference room next to the ops center.
President Banisadr questioned the Chief of Staff.
"Status?"
"Iraqi armored columns breached the border defenses. Advancing on Khorramshahr."
"Khorramshahr! Abadan's right there. If Abadan falls, disaster! Hold it at all costs!"
"We know, but no armored units there to counter..."
"What? After all the money poured into armor by us—no, the previous regime."
"You know Ayatollah disbanded the military, pulling frontline units rearward. Only Revolutionary Guard militia on the border now."
The president's face twisted.
The Chief of Staff looked aggrieved.
"I warned you. Iraqi movements suspicious—redeploy armor forward."
"Who doesn't know that?"
But everyone there knew.
The president had reported to Ayatollah Khomeini, but his reply was:
"The military declared neutrality during the revolution. How can we trust them massed in one place? They might rebel."
"The border's guarded by our brave Revolutionary Guard—no worries. If enemies come, they're ready to fight to the death."
The Chief of Staff had been floored hearing it relayed.
No number of lives stops tanks.
But with the Ayatollah's word, nothing to be done.
Challenging it meant treason—execution.
Frustrated, the president pressed the Chief again.
"So what now?"
"Move max forces west ASAP. Invasion scale serious—not provocation or skirmish. Declare emergency, general mobilization now."
The president pondered, then nodded.
Never imagined using those powers when taking office.
"Issue mobilization. Interior Minister, prep state of emergency."
"Yes, sir."
"Yes."
"And redeploy rear armor west—"
Then.
Creak.
The door flew open. Ayatollah Khomeini entered with a horde of clerics.
Banisadr and ministers darkened at the sight.
The Guardian Council.
Centered on Ayatollah Khomeini, Islamic jurists and religious leaders—above president, executive, judiciary, legislature.
De facto rulers of the Islamic Republic.
Twelve Council members filed in behind Khomeini.
All—ministers, commanders—stood and bowed.
The president yielded his seat naturally to the approaching Ayatollah.
Khomeini sat.
"Be seated."
Seats rearranged at his word.
Council first, then ministers and generals in remaining spots or standing.
Khomeini waited for order, then spoke.
"Iraqis invaded?"
As glances darted,
President Banisadr reported.
"Yes. Dawn assault across the border. Most dangerous: Khuzestan. Iraqi armor toward Abadan. Was about to order mobilization, forward-deploy rear armor—"
Khomeini cut in.
"Who's there?"
President flustered at the abrupt question,
A seated Council member answered.
"Ezzat, Revolutionary Guard commander."
Khomeini nodded.
"Ezzat. Brave man. He'll hold."
Chief of Staff couldn't hold back.
"Iraqi main force: 72nd Armored Division. Over 500 tanks deployed. No matching armor in Khorramshahr—tough matchup. Abadan falls, south and Gulf exposed. Even Tehran at risk..."
He shut up meeting Khomeini's gaze.
The Ayatollah glared briefly, then pronounced judgment.
"The Islamic Republic blessed by God. No matter how many godless foes, we triumph. Council here will command all forces per God's will. Remember that."
Western Khuzestan.
Dust clouds billowed over the wasteland.
Iraqi armored columns, T-55s in the lead, smashed through border defenses.
Drurrrr~~.
Treads rumbled the earth,
Dust forming thunderheads.
Before the advancing armor.
Iranian soldiers hidden in earthen trenches popped out, firing RPGs.
Phushuu~~~
Phushuu~~~
Rockets streaked horizontally, trailing smoke, grazed tanks and cratered harmlessly.
Kwa-kwang-kwang~!!
As most rockets wasted,
One struck a tank's front armor.
Kwang-kwang-kwang~!!!
Blast, flames, smoke erupted,
But the T-55 plowed through.
Reloading, comrades sprayed assault rifles, charging.
The 72nd Armored Division field commander spotted them, scoffing.
"Idiots. At it again."
Same scene repeated endlessly.
No sign of Iran's feared armor post-assault order.
Instead, blocking them: militia in non-standard gear.
They'd pop out sporadically with rockets, grenades, suicidal rushes.
Charging hundreds of tanks fearlessly—almost comical.
What kind of lunatics gloried in egg-vs-rock?
Bravery useless against tanks.
Commander shook his head, radioed.
"1 o'clock. Annihilate charging enemy."
Moments later.
Tanks at center-right halted,
Opened fire.
Pew-pew-pew-pew~~!!
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwang-kwang~~~!!
Area pulverized,
Screams shredded in earth-shaking blasts, vanished.
No need to check.
Iraqi armor pressed on.
Ahead, a lone city emerged on the barren plain.
Small town at the junction to Abadan.
Toward Khorramshahr, Iraqi forces advanced unhindered.