Kardox - The Kurdish View

The Kurdish view of Middle Eastern politics

Location: Kurdistan - NOT IRAQ!, Kurdistan - NOT IRAQ!, Iraq

I am a 30 year old businessman in Hawler (Arbil, north Iraq). I have lived in Europe for almost 15 years, but now I work for a family investment company. Surely I would like to let know you people more, but I want to stay in once peace. I love bloging because it gives me the satisfaction to write about my thoughts.

Monday, August 30, 2004

Why Kurds are proud of its Peshmerga

We have lived with violence for hundreds of years, from the Romans, Ottomans to the Iraqi army, the Iranians. The Arab Iraqi regime tried its best with chemical attacks, ethnic cleansing, murder, torture, kidnappings and any other thing that you can imagine.

We still stand here today, proud to be sons and daughters of Medya, of Kurdistan.

I was once witnessed a fire fight between the Kurdish Peshmerga and the Iraqi Arab police and Baath force. Not even Oliver Stone could create such heroes that I saw that day.

In 1992 after a peace deal between the Peshmerga and Iraqi force the south Kurdistan was under the control of the Iraqi government but the Peshmerga wore allowed to move freely in our cities.

A few weeks later, me and my buddies went down town to shoot some pool at a local pool place on the second floor of a small mall just in front of the government building..

As we played pool, my friend Aram was just about to win a huge bet with a very fat guy, we started to hear children on the street shouting “Biji Kurdistan”. The kids wore from poor families, judging from the clothes. The oldest of them was probably 16 years old. The small demonstration of not more than 100 kids was about to head to the government building.

The goverment building I was talking about

From the pool place, we and the entire guests from the pool place saw five police officers come out the police building which was in front of the government building. The cowered bastards started to shoot right through the demonstration. I saw at least two kids fall down to the ground. Everyone from the pool place wore in shock I think, we stood still and couldn’t believe our eyes. Our silence was brooked by a bullet aimed at us but hit the roof through the window. The impact created a white dust from the roof and in the same second every one was on the ground.

I found myself under the pool behind the fat guy, who seemed to be just lying down, in a very cool manner. I started to laugh for myself. He looked so relaxed.

We rushed to the exit door and looked down to the ground floor and saw five kids shoot dead on the floor in a pale of blood with a trace of blood from their small bodies to the front door. People wore helping each other; it was like seeing a drill in first aid.

I also saw a young man with his wife whom I saw down town less than a hour ago. The couple wore dressed fine (a typical sign of newly weed couples). The young man was shot in the stomach; they say it hurts the most. His wife was hysterical and crying holding his head in her arms. Her dress was covered in blood. I wonder if he ever survived the bullet.

People started to panic, screaming, I suggested we run down stairs and run from the exit door on the ground floor, which means we had to cross the fire line.

Actually I was so scared I wanted to go back and take cover behind the fat guy under the pool table until it is all over. But we wore convinced that the policemen and soldiers would come to get us when they wore done killing everyone on the street.

My friend Sherzad screamed:
“We are not going to die! We are not getting killed! Look people are going to the top roof, lets go!”

We ran to the stairs to the roof.

Holy crap! There was a line to “jump” to next building. People wore jumping from one building to the other building. No way man! I hate heights.! Besides jumping 1,4 – 2 meters from a three floor building didn’t sound that well.

I think they all agreed to get the hell out the roof top before we break our back.

I, Sherzad, Aram started to discuss and decided to take the exit door on the ground floor. We decide to do it running, but we had to take a look outside before we started our race for life.

As I looked outside from the window. Now more than a hundred policemen and Iraqi soldiers stood in front of the police house and the government building shooting at any people they saw. They even shot tear gases. The streets wore covered with white smoke.

In the middle of this chaos a black pickup full with Peshmerga fighters drove right at the policemen and soldiers. One man stood on the back of the pickup, with a huge BKC (some kind of huge machine gun).


Hell was now broken and the Kurdish Peshmerga was on the mission of ass kicking. I wanted to see these brave men, that wore truly a Pesh Merga (those who face death). Yes, they did that day.

Sherzad grabbed my arms and screamed: “Let’s go, let’s go”.

We looked at each other and we knew that in 5 minutes one of us or all of us would probably get a bullet in the head or back, but we had to take our chances.

“Now! Now! Now! Run like HELL!!” Said Aram…

“Wait! wait before we run, please if I don’t make it tell my dad that I am sorry for everything” I said to my friends.

“Yeah, yeah… now let’s go” The both replied.

We ran like hell, down one stairs, down two stairs on the ground floor. Run to the exit door, as I set my foot on the street I heard

“BOOM, BOOM” .. was it RBG?

I don’t know if the earth was shaking or my legs. It was all surreal.

“Shhheevvv” “Sheeeev” the bullets passed our heads.

I think we all screamed like hell, we ran almost 500 meters and then we went in a small old street.

We all fell to the ground, we wore exposed to the tear gas. Our eyes wore all bloody. An old friend of mine just showed up right there with water to wash my eyes. I never knew where this guy lived, now I was standing in front of his house.

“What is going on!?” he asked us.

“We started to tell the story, as we kept on washing our face”.

“Wait a minute I’ll be back” .. he went inside came back with hand granites, a brand new klashinkov, a silver pistol.

“Ahmed, when did you joined the Peshmerga?” I asked him.

“I never did, these are my own, I have just saved them for a day like this.” He said

“Dachim dakyikyan da gem” (translated: I going to fuck their moms”). This was his last words from Ahmed I heard.

We went home, and decide to not to tell our parents or other friends about our experience. I guess we wanted to forget how close we wore to death.

A week later we went back to the pool, and saw the same gang there. The fat guy was in the pool all the time. Almost 48 hours!

Others who didn’t got out of there said that they wore all in camped inside the mall. They didn’t slept for a hour for 48 hours. The fight was so huge that the thought they wore going to get killed any time.

That day (I could be wrong) 3 Peshmerga died and about 40+ of the enemies died. Ahmed had used all his ammos, and granites that day. He went back home the same day, and did the same thing the day after.

After that fight, the police house was burned downed, the Iraqi force wore moved out from down town. And demonstrations wore held free again.

God Bless our Peshmerga

The guy on left has the same machinegun I saw on the back of the pickup. I think it is called BKC.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

Your story was very inspirational and I enjoyed reading it a great deal. Congratulations on beating the baathists.

About the machine gun, it looks a lot like an old RPD machine gun made by russia and later by china. I have never heard of a BKC, although it might have been a local variation of the original name.


November 8, 2004 at 7:20 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

very nice story
i would just like to say bejit pishmerga (long live pishmerga).
and that the machine gun is non of those
if you look at the picture and this site with the PKM machine guns you can clearly see its a PKM.

December 5, 2004 at 2:20 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

very nice story
i would just like to say bejit pishmerga (long live pishmerga).
and that the machine gun is non of those
if you look at the picture and this site with the PKM machine guns you can clearly see its a PKM.

December 5, 2004 at 2:21 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

um im kinda confused,
wat is kurdistan?
why was there a war?
(i need 2 know this stuff coz i wanna write a story about Kurds and the hardship they went thru)
i just wanna say dat i am not a kurd. i am not even from da middle east, but mashallah i read a book bout da kurds and stuff when i was little.
no I want to write one....
u ppl hav inspired me so much...

June 7, 2007 at 12:38 PM  
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Anonymous Anonymous said...

Love it.
I come from North Kurdistan.
One day, we will be united.

March 14, 2011 at 7:01 AM  
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you said Kurdistan not Iraq, agree with you, But you put Kurdistan,North Iraq. Dont make sense. Be a Kurdistani or Iraqi. Confused.com

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