The Night Before Val-Fajr 4: A Wife’s Memory of Love and Sacrifice
How a simple list revealed the silent courage and faith of those who wait behind the frontlines
Shaheed Haj Mohammad Ebrahim Hemmat
It was the night before Operation Val-Fajr 4. The air at the Allahu Akbar Garrison in Eslamabad was thick with anticipation and unspoken fears. My husband and I were staying in one of the military houses, trying to find a moment of peace before the storm that was sure to come.
When he came home that evening, he carried with him a small piece of paper. On it, I saw thirteen names written in his familiar handwriting. But next to number fourteen, the space was left blank.
Curious, I asked, “What’s this?”
He replied simply,
“It’s the list of the martyrs.”
I was taken aback.
“Which martyrs?”
“The martyrs of the upcoming operation,” he said, his voice steady but distant.
“How do you know?” I pressed, searching his face for answers.
He smiled gently.
“We can somehow recognise the ones who are going to be martyred ahead of time.”
I couldn’t help but challenge him.
“You guys know the unseen?”
He shook his head.
“No, but the signs are there. You can see it in their faces, the way they talk, the things they do, their conversations, their moments of longing. You notice a lot of signs.”
I looked back at the list.
“But there are only thirteen names here. Who’s the fourteenth?”
He looked at me with a tenderness that broke my heart.
“That’s the one you have to pray for, Haj Khanom. Pray he’ll be accepted.”
In that moment, I understood what Haji meant. But why me? How could I ever pray for him to go? I loved Haji more than anything in this world. The weight of his request settled over me—a silent testament to the courage and faith not only of those who go to the frontlines, but also of those who wait and pray behind them.