Falujjahwent through many nights of intense fighting that would make oneinsane. I would hear nothing but the cries of "Allahu Akbar", the duafrom the mosques, the strikes of the mujahideen and the shelling of theoccupation. Daily I would sit on the doorstep of the house hour afterhour looking at the street hoping for the arrival of my sons. I wouldask anybody coming my way and trot over to them: "Hey, oh one ofGhayrah (sense of honor), did you not see Ahmad, did you not seeMuheeb, and did you not see Umar my son?"
Here Umm Ash-Shuhadaa' cries again
"Some of them would say to me that they didn't know them and some would say that they didn't see, them except one.
He told me "Oh Mother, Ahmad and Umar are in Al-Jumhooriyah district and Muheeb is in An-Nizaal district and they are fine."
Hehurried off so I ran after him and I tripped and fell over. My nose wassmeared in blood as I begged him to stop and talk to me. He stoppedagain and said to me: "My Mother, I told you that they are fine andthere is nothing wrong with them Alhamdulillah, but don't make me late.I have very important work to do. If I see them again I will give themyour salam"
He gave me his Ghutrah and said: "Wipe away your blood oh Mother" then he left.
Icontinued in this condition until 12/12; however I decided after thisthat I would strengthen my heart, trust in Allah and do something forthe mujahideen. So I began to cook food and distribute water among thearab mujahideen. I also made bandages from the curtains of the house,pieces of material around the house and covers of pillows. Then I wouldtend to the mujahideen who were injured in the battle. AndAlhamdulillah all those whom I tended to returned to fight and theywere more than twenty.
Before I come to theday of 12/12, on 12/9 - and the dates, I am sure of, as I was countingthe days since I separated from my sons - this day the jews scatteredchemicals heavily all over Falujjah, especially in the center. Manypeople were martyred and these chemicals also burnt trees and animals.This helped the occupation advance into the center of Falujjah in a fewhours as tens of mujahideen were martyred. Then a rumor spread amongthe mujahideen from an unknown source which still now is unknown,except that I am sure it was from an agent.
Therumor was that Umar Hadid and Abdullah Al-Janaabi died in the chemicalattack. Panic spread in Falujjah among the groups, only Allah knows. Iwould hear about this from the injured that I was tending.
HoweverUmar Hadid and Abdullah Al-Janaabi dispelled these rumors when theycame up among the mujahideen that day. This event increased the moraleof the mujahideen and gave the occupation huge losses, only Allah knows.
Intensivefighting continued back and forth between the mujahideen and theoccupation and I would hear that there were tens of martyrs among themujahideen. I would ask Allah to delight my eyes one day with the sightof my three sons.
Then, at 11 o'clock nighton 12/12/2004, which was a Sunday, there occurred a fierce battlebetween the mujahideen and the Americans who were trying to take holdof Ash-Shuhadaa' district, advancing from outside of Falujjah not frominside.
The fighting was close to my houseand I would look up to the sky and see it lit up with fire, a sight Iwill never ever forget. Many martyrs fell during this battle and Iwould hear their groaning close to my house. It went on like this forabout four hours, from 11 o'clock until 3 o'clock, or a little less.During this time the American attack on the district failed. I went outto the door of the house and I heard a groan coming from an injuredMujahid. He was remembering Allah and he did not quit from Laa IllahaIllaa Allah Muhammad Rasoolulullah.
Ihurried over to him and he was still alive so I dragged him with all mystrength into the house. He was injured on his chest and face. Ihurriedly got some water and washed his face and bandaged his wounds sothat they would stop bleeding. He was crying and I thought that he wascrying because of the severity of his pain. Every time he looked at mehe would cry, so I said to him: "Trust in Allah oh man. Your injuriesare simple and, if Allah wills, curable and the fact that you are fineis what is important. Dawn is close and your faction will be here soonand they will take you and tend to you. However let me go and see ifyour faction has any life in it or not".
Hebegan to cry more severely this time and it was as though he didn'twant me to go, so I thought that maybe he felt that his death was closeand that he didn't want to die alone. I convinced him that hiscompanions were in need of help and that I would go and come backquickly.
I went out to the street - afterhitching up my abaya and fastening it around my waist - and decidedthat I would start with the injured. In fact I did find a secondinjured one, he was an Arab. So I dragged him into the house and beganto do what needed to be done with him. However I was astonished when headdressed me with the words "Oh Aunt Umm Muheeb" as though he knew meand also because the people usually call me Umm Ahmad. So I guessedthat he was a friend of my son and knew our house. He was injured belowhis navel - may Allah have mercy on him - and his intestines werehanging out the front. He told me that all he wanted was some mud fromthe garden, some salt and a bandage. I gave him what he wanted and thenI went back out into the street.
There Ifound two bodies, two houses away from mine. I dragged the first withall my strength to the house and put it in the garden. Then I fetchedthe spade intending to dig a grave for him. And indeed I dug a threehand span deep, two meter long grave then I buried him in it. Iintended to leave him under the protection of the ground until hisfamily or companions come to move his body to bury it moreappropriately according to Sharia.
After Iburied the first I was very exhausted for I was too old to be draggingtwo injured people and one dead body tens of meters. However I put mytrust in Allah and told myself, perhaps Allah will protect my sons fromdeath, in return for what I have done.
Iwent out to the street again and found another martyr who was heavilybuilt and tall. I began to slowly drag him from his feet and after someminutes I brought him to the garden of my house. There I started tosuspect that I knew this martyr - and his shirt was torn on the back -also his odor was familiar to me. It was night and so dark, I couldn'teven see the palm of my hand so I ran over to the house and got alantern, despite the dangers of any light emitting from the house. Thiswas because the planes could bomb at any minute.
WhenI fetched the lantern and got closer to the face of the martyr - whichwas covered in blood and sand - I froze in my place thunder stricken,speechless! For this martyr was none other than Muheeb my middle son!"
HereUmm Ash-Shuhadaa' cuts her story and bursts out crying. She says: "ByAllah oh Muheeb you broke my back, you and your brothers left me andwent away" then she says "Inna Lillahi Wa Innaa Ilayhi Raaji'oon. I hadplanned on not crying over them and this is the third time I have criedover them today"
Then the stricken womancontinues her story: "I lifted his head and brought it to my chest; Icried over him and talked to him for about half an hour as though hewas alive. I reminded him of his good talk with me and of when he wasyoung and he used to sleep on my lap. I stroked his beautiful soft hairas I used to always do. I said to him: "Oh Muheeb I am yourmother...sleep oh delight of my eyes, sleep and rest from this world. Youhave won!" By Allah I did not want to let him go from my lap. I buriedhim under the olive tree that he used to love and study under when hewas young - and I made the hole deep, for I decided that his gravewould be in his house.
In the morning agroup of mujahideen arrived and I was still at Muheeb's grave, guardingmy martyred son as if someone was going to take him from me. I criedover him from the night until the morning and I heard their voices inthe street so I went out to them. They knew me and I knew them as theywere Ahmad and Umar's companions from the organization.
I asked them: "Tell me, where are my sons Ahmad and Umar?
Theybowed their heads down and said: "Oh Aunt, consider them with Allah.Ahmad and Umar died last night in An-Nizaal district and we buried themin the yard of the home of Hajji Khaleel Al-Fiyaad"
Idon't know why I didn't cry at the time of the news. Maybe it wasbecause I was tired out from crying over Muheeb or because of the shockI was in. I asked them: "Did they die advancing or retreating?"
One of them replied: "By Allah they died advancing and they received their revenge before they died"
Ipraised Allah, and then I told them to enter the house to take theirtwo injured men with them. When they entered they found one of them -and it was the Arab - lifeless; his soul had departed. As for theother, he was still alive and they took him with them. They buried theother one in the garden of my house. They were amazed that I had beenable to dig two graves in an hour. I told them that the grave under theolive tree belonged to my son Muheeb and the other, a martyr that Ididn't know and that he wasn't buried properly. So I asked one of themto unbury him and make the grave bigger, fearing for the body.
Afterthis they asked me to come with them as they would try to get me out ofFalujjah. I refused this and one of them - he was not an Iraqi - saidto me: "Oh Mother you have lost three of your sons and we are all yoursons. Insha Allah Ahmad, Umar and Muheeb are in Paradise"
Theyleft in a hurry before my eyes and I returned inside the house to prayDuha. Three more battles broke out in three long nights. I was ableduring that time to drag four other martyrs and bury them in the gardenof my house. With that there was in the garden of the house sevengraves belonging to seven martyrs. The whole garden and house wasfilled with a musky scent that I had never smelt before and this scentmade me feel happy and gave me patience. I slept four nights next tothe grave of Muheeb and I would smell that aroma. I slept with him likethe mother who carries her son when he is asleep. I stayed a prisonerin my house with the martyrs for seven days until 13/1/2005, when theRed Crescent entered from the north with the permission of theoccupation. They forced me to go with them to a camp in As-Saqlaawiya.There I found out that after the battle that the volunteer workers fromFalujjah dug up Muheeb and his companions and took them to re bury themwith their brothers in the new martyr's graveyard.
Thisis my story and I tell it despite all the pain and injury I wentthrough. Also I wish that I had three more sons who would die for thesake of Allah despite my grief over them as your mother is proudbecause she is mother of the martyrs."
HereUmm Ash-Shuhadaa' finishes her story with a few verses of Bedouinpoetry that we were able to write down. She said: "This is for thescholars of the muslims, who place their turbans on their heads. Tothem I dedicate these two verses. I ask them. What will you say on theday you stand between the Hands of the Avenger and Powerful? It (thepoem) goes like this:
From you we expected and thought that you would lift and take us.
And we did not expect - with this affliction - that you would try to get away.
From you we expected and (this part I can't translate)
Oh injustice all hope has gone and the liar has arisen
ByAllah you have broken our hearts and brought tears to our eyes withyour story oh Mother of the Martyrs. May Allah accept your sons asmartyrs and gather you with them in the highest level of Paradise,Al-Firdaws. Ameen!