An intense silence, a cold February night. Soldiers spread out in the trenches, wrapping them around like that soft warm bed in their homes. The roar of enemy planes creeps in from all over the space above them. Only the explosions of bombs and the flicker of their raging shrapnel break in that black night. , "Be steady..don't open fire unless you order." That rough voice that echoed in your chest now was knocking on the ears of that group of soldiers clutching the trigger of their weapons, waiting for the zero hour, eyes waiting and foreheads covered with dust from the explosions around them, there is no talk to the souls except that sound that transmits stability In the bodies "God is with us". The artillery fire of our army was disturbing the movements of its mechanisms in the occupied lands and confusing its plans, and the attempts to fight with the aim of draining the will to fight along the front line after the June 67 war were unsuccessful. Mutual strikes and intermittent skirmishes did not forget that generation of my country. They do not sleep to inspire and pray to God for victory. for their children, the women, day and night, do not stop singing the inherited songs of their stationed sons and husbands. Rather, those who live near the soldiers’ camps prepare for them as much food and drink as possible and help transport ammunition, a battle of fate and a combat doctrine that touches existence, so there is no discussion about the will to fight until the last shot.. to the last pulse. ...and another blink of an eye. The shelling is intensifying and the weight of automatic weapons fire increases on the trenches in the enemy’s miserable attempts to test with the weight of his fire the preparations of the Arab army forces stationed along the front, and the frontal monitoring by our soldiers of their positions, which if they conceal them with curtains and obstacles, will not be hidden from the eyes of the valiant, it was the insight of hearts, not the eyes of eyes Which they see invaders of the homeland. The zero hour has come... "In the name of God, strike." Soldiers Mahmoud Nassour, Munir Al-Masry Ahmed Hassan, Muhammad Uqla, Ahmad Abdullah Hussein, Awad Al-Jarrah and their comrades, led the icon of Jordanian martyrdom, the hero of the Jordanian Major Mansour Krishan, led the eight-hour battle, which requires the victor to remain firmly in the position to achieve victory. The soldiers stationed and fixed their trenching place on one of the slopes of the Umm Qais area. They opened fire with their rifles, mechanisms, and all available equipment in front of the treacherous force. The mutual shooting reached its climax, the bullets crowded in the air, the grenades tampered with the aggression, the enemy planes intervened, throwing the lava of napalm on Mansour and his companions. To stop their epic steadfastness in order to ensure the withdrawal of their rickety forces with minimal losses, the dust is only broken by the determination of the seven martyrs whose heartbeats did not calm down, unless they painted an artistic painting, stained with their blood, one hand was still holding on to a handful of dirt soaked with its blood, and another was still squeezing the ulna, perhaps firing more bullets of truth in the face of the tyranny of the oppressor, the aggressor, and the one whose hand rested on his spear, which was taken from the enemy’s chest as a sheath. And those who scattered their body parts like pearls on the soil of the homeland. The dust of the battle began to fade and the threads of the sun infiltrated among the flying atoms of dust, the drops of blood that began to infiltrate their bodies, making their way to the soil of the homeland, the homeland? What is home? He is the earth, a person and a principle that lives on it. Without a principle, life or death has no meaning on it. Yes, seven of our soldiers fell on the walls of the Citadel of the homeland and more than forty civilians in Irbid governorate as a result of the treacherous bombardment of civilians, but we, their grandchildren and the generations of the nation, have left a free and proud homeland, disobedient to those who oppose it, free? Yes, free... But what is the value of freedom? Or how do we understand what it means to be free? It is what men mean, my friend. Rather, it is manhood itself. It is to have an identity that belongs to your land, religion and nationality. There is no homeland without sacrifice, without martyrs, without heroes who make glory for generations. Raise your head, yes, Arab Jordanian. It is enough for you to be proud of the stories of glory that your brother, uncle, father, and son-in-law wrote. You have the right to tell your son sitting next to you a story of great glory, like the story of the seven heroes; The heroes of the battle of February 15, 1968, to tell them the history of heroism and redemption for Mansour and his brave companions, to teach them how homelands are not protected and built only through sacrifice. We salute those who chose the Day of the Seven Heroes’ Battle as the Day of Loyalty to Retired Servicemen and Veterans. Everyone who was honored with military service and the company of a female soldier is a project of a hero from the Seven Heroes, who gave the flower, energy and strength of youth in order to live today in a homeland.... pride... and freedom.
An intense silence, a cold February night. Soldiers spread out in the trenches, wrapping them around like that soft warm bed in their homes. The roar of enemy planes creeps in from all over the space above them. Only the explosions of bombs and the flicker of their raging shrapnel break in that black night. , "Be steady..don't open fire unless you order." That rough voice that echoed in your chest now was knocking on the ears of that group of soldiers clutching the trigger of their weapons, waiting for the zero hour, eyes waiting and foreheads covered with dust from the explosions around them, there is no talk to the souls except that sound that transmits stability In the bodies "God is with us".
The artillery fire of our army was disturbing the movements of its mechanisms in the occupied lands and confusing its plans, and the attempts to fight with the aim of draining the will to fight along the front line after the June 67 war were unsuccessful. Mutual strikes and intermittent skirmishes did not forget that generation of my country. They do not sleep to inspire and pray to God for victory. for their children, the women, day and night, do not stop singing the inherited songs of their stationed sons and husbands. Rather, those who live near the soldiers’ camps prepare for them as much food and drink as possible and help transport ammunition, a battle of fate and a combat doctrine that touches existence, so there is no discussion about the will to fight until the last shot.. to the last pulse. ...and another blink of an eye.
The shelling is intensifying and the weight of automatic weapons fire increases on the trenches in the enemy’s miserable attempts to test with the weight of his fire the preparations of the Arab army forces stationed along the front, and the frontal monitoring by our soldiers of their positions, which if they conceal them with curtains and obstacles, will not be hidden from the eyes of the valiant, it was the insight of hearts, not the eyes of eyes Which they see invaders of the homeland.
The zero hour has come... "In the name of God, strike."
Soldiers Mahmoud Nassour, Munir Al-Masry Ahmed Hassan, Muhammad Uqla, Ahmad Abdullah Hussein, Awad Al-Jarrah and their comrades, led the icon of Jordanian martyrdom, the hero of the Jordanian Major Mansour Krishan, led the eight-hour battle, which requires the victor to remain firmly in the position to achieve victory.
The soldiers stationed and fixed their trenching place on one of the slopes of the Umm Qais area. They opened fire with their rifles, mechanisms, and all available equipment in front of the treacherous force. The mutual shooting reached its climax, the bullets crowded in the air, the grenades tampered with the aggression, the enemy planes intervened, throwing the lava of napalm on Mansour and his companions. To stop their epic steadfastness in order to ensure the withdrawal of their rickety forces with minimal losses, the dust is only broken by the determination of the seven martyrs whose heartbeats did not calm down, unless they painted an artistic painting, stained with their blood, one hand was still holding on to a handful of dirt soaked with its blood, and another was still squeezing the ulna, perhaps firing more bullets of truth in the face of the tyranny of the oppressor, the aggressor, and the one whose hand rested on his spear, which was taken from the enemy’s chest as a sheath. And those who scattered their body parts like pearls on the soil of the homeland.
The dust of the battle began to fade and the threads of the sun infiltrated among the flying atoms of dust, the drops of blood that began to infiltrate their bodies, making their way to the soil of the homeland, the homeland? What is home? He is the earth, a person and a principle that lives on it. Without a principle, life or death has no meaning on it.
Yes, seven of our soldiers fell on the walls of the Citadel of the homeland and more than forty civilians in Irbid governorate as a result of the treacherous bombardment of civilians, but we, their grandchildren and the generations of the nation, have left a free and proud homeland, disobedient to those who oppose it, free? Yes, free... But what is the value of freedom? Or how do we understand what it means to be free? It is what men mean, my friend. Rather, it is manhood itself. It is to have an identity that belongs to your land, religion and nationality. There is no homeland without sacrifice, without martyrs, without heroes who make glory for generations.
Raise your head, yes, Arab Jordanian. It is enough for you to be proud of the stories of glory that your brother, uncle, father, and son-in-law wrote. You have the right to tell your son sitting next to you a story of great glory, like the story of the seven heroes; The heroes of the battle of February 15, 1968, to tell them the history of heroism and redemption for Mansour and his brave companions, to teach them how homelands are not protected and built only through sacrifice.
We salute those who chose the Day of the Seven Heroes’ Battle as the Day of Loyalty to Retired Servicemen and Veterans. Everyone who was honored with military service and the company of a female soldier is a project of a hero from the Seven Heroes, who gave the flower, energy and strength of youth in order to live today in a homeland.... pride... and freedom.