Bandar Abbas – Social media showed disturbing and almost surreal scenes in the Shahid Rajae section of Bandar Abbas port. It was really hard to grasp the photos and videos circulating from news sources on April 26th. Five days later, seeing the wreckage in person was even more disastrous.
The drive from the city centre took about an hour, and the typical oppressive heat and humidity in southern Iran seemed to intensify as we approached the coast.
The car was not permitted near the explosion site. After a short walk we were close enough to see the destruction. Local journalists pointed to the fields about a kilometre away where the cars were parked. Even from that distance, the effects of the explosion were clear. The roof was sitting inside, the windshield was crushed into dust and the interior was broken. He approached and saw the man sifting through the shards before pulling up some of the side windows. He inspected it and told someone nearby, “I think this is from my car.” When we left the port he was still searching, but it appears he can’t find anything recognizable.
The epicenter of the blast was not a point, but a zone. A 4,000 square metre area was torn apart and burned. Shipping containers are scattered like discarded toys. The truck was reduced to a burnt shell, and the storage area was nothing more than a twisted metal frame. We pulled our masks as we approached. The smoke was mostly cleaned up compared to images I saw online, but the scene was horrifying. Firefighters and aid workers were just beginning to incorporate the full extent of the damage, and by their own accounts it was a tragedy that was barely comprehensible.
“The firestorm after the explosion was the worst our country has ever seen,” said Mohammad Nazari, a firefighter who was on the scene from the start. “I think globally, the scale is probably ranked in the top five.”
Nazari and his crew were dispatched from the east side of Bandar Abbas to the west coast, arriving between their first counterparts. “I was a firefighter for 13 years. I saw a lot of terrible things back then, but seeing that day was different from what I had ever experienced,” he said. “When we arrived we met a mass of traumatized people who escaped with fear and confusion. Some got messed up as their clothes burned out. We saw people jumping on one leg and losing the other.
For the first few hours, local firefighters fought only the flames before reinforcements from other states arrived. Qodratollah Mohammadi, the country’s best firefighter, took command personally. Military helicopters and planes are helped by dropping water and dropping fire retarders, but the brunt of the work still falls on firefighters. Many of the shipping containers were smoldering inside, and water droplets in the air helped cool the area, but firefighters had to dig into each container hard enough to extinguish the remaining flames.
Nazari and his team were barely asleep in the last 90 hours. But looking at their faces inside the big makeshift rest tent, fatigue was not the first thing I noticed. Instead, I saw a mixture of fatigue, resolution and even a quiet sense of accomplishment. “I think the firefighters went even further,” said another firefighter on the scene. “We’ve been flat for days and doing everything we can to get control of the situation as fast as possible. We couldn’t save everyone. It’s about carrying us with us. But by acting fast, we’ve saved so many lives.
“Artesh was sacrificed for the people.”
Managing a crisis like Bandar Abbas requires two approaches. First, containment: prevents the fire from spreading, extinguish existing flames, and prevents further explosions. Second, rescue: do absolutely everything possible to save those living in the affected area.
The exact number of deaths from last Saturday’s tragedy remains unknown. However, the number of injuries has been confirmed to exceed 1,000.
Shortly after the fire broke out, teams from Iran’s Red Crescent Association began searching for survivors. Aid workers rushed the injured to medical care, along with ambulances from the city’s hospital. Seid Al-Shohada Hospital, a medical facility run by the Iranian artesh navy, has become the main centre for immediate care.
Seyed Al-Shohada, the closest hospital to Shaheed Rajaee Port, is a recently opened facility with the latest technology and safety features, receiving around 280 patients that night, with many suffering the most serious injuries.
I was able to visit the hospital six days after the incident. By that point, an immediate crisis had passed. In the meeting room, the hospital chief thanked the first responders for their tireless efforts. They were gathering there, those who worked to save the injured for those important first 48 hours.
Dr. Ali Hossein Abafat was one of them. He retired two years ago after a 30-year career. However, on the night of the explosion he ran towards Seid Al Shohada and “The moment I realized what had happened, I never thought of it again,” he told me later. “The key was to help the hurt people. The scene from that night… The only thing I can compare with was the ’03 BAM earthquake.”
I realized I was more emotionally affected in the hospital than I was in the blast. The doctors and nurses I spoke to were as tired as the firefighters I met before. Their description of the patient’s condition was firm and visceral, and they shared the same fierce determination as the firefighters. But there was probably a sense of relief about them as well. Perhaps because their direct battle with the direct crisis is over.
Because the hospital was a military facility, everyone I spoke to held military rank despite the lack of formal military training. But the way they spoke about their community and their sense of duty to alleviate the same dedication and resonating suffering that resonates with the same dedication you expect from the soldiers who explain the mission.
“Every Artesi (members of the Iranian army) are taught that Artesi must sacrifice itself for the people. Everybody who worked here that night really embodied it,” said Dr. Ali Nasseri, ER doctor and pharmacist at the hospital. “The first wave of patients arrived just 30 minutes after the incident. Our hospital has around 180 beds, but that night we received much more. We used all the units in the facility.” He continued to explain the staffing situation that night. “Of course we have a ‘crisis code’ that leaves in this situation. We will invite all medical professionals to the hospital as soon as possible. But literally everyone was here that night. Even hospital chefs came to help move patients and to help the Navy themselves wherever they were. “Dr. Naseri told me he felt he had completed his mission as a doctor.
The marine unit also helped maintain order in the hospital, helping distraught family and friends find loved ones. A large area of about 200 square meters was set up in the hospital courtyard, providing chairs, rest areas and food to those who gathered there. The Navy opened its dorms to several families for an overnight stay. All hospital and naval services were provided free of charge to patients and their families at the order of Vice Admiral Shalam Irani, the Navy Commander.
“The words that come to mind are “grace” and “honored,” one patient told me. “Everything that hospital and the Navy did that night was done in a way that respected the dignity of the people.” When the explosion occurred, he was in a building near the site of the explosion. The employee of an Iranian oil company traveled from Tehran to southern Iran on a challenge. His face and head were very bandaged. I chose not to reveal his name as he explained that he had not told his family the full extent of his injuries.
People’s reactions
When tragedy strikes like it did in Iran last week, everyday citizens are not usually responsible for picking up the work. Around the world, people may share social media posts and express patriotism. In many cases, there is a sense that there is little else to do. But in Iran, the last thing anyone could do was stand up vaguely.
During my time at Seyed Al-Shohada Hospital, I met three families, men, women and young daughters. Gifts will be given to you, including clothes, underwear, shoes, carrot juice and more. They went through the ward, handed out items to patients and provided phone numbers in case someone needed something else.
They explained that many patients are likely workers in far-reaching states. They were left behind by their family for hundreds of kilometers, lacking access to basic necessities. “It’s important to be here, to talk to them, to show that we care. They need as much emotional support as practical help as possible,” the man said. I have learned that this family is one of at least 20 others who have independently organized to visit the hospital in Bandar Abbas and provided assistance at their own expense.
Another example of Iranian unity and compassion was the surge in blood donations. From Azerbaijan to Kurdistan, Tehran, Esfahan, Krosan, Sistan and Balchestan, blood donations rose 400% on the day of the explosion.
“People across the country offered blood donations to those affected, but in reality they didn’t need to receive shipments from other states,” she explained. “So many people visited our facility and we gathered enough blood.” As blood can only be stored up to 35 days, the centre had to ask some donors to come back at a later date, ensuring that there was a sufficient supply of blood for patients who needed it during the surgery. “Thousands of people came to us that day. Of course, this was nothing new. Every time something like this happens – explosions, fires, earthquakes, tragedy – people across the country rush to donate their blood before they even have time to issue national charm.”
The fire and explosion that drove through Bandar Abbas was a cruel tragedy. It not only insisted on life, it also swayed the country to its core. When I stood among the wreckage and listened to the survivors, I felt the weight of the loss was barely inbearable. But in the darkness I witnessed something extraordinary. Everyone was exhausted and everyone was sad – but no one had stopped. Faced with unimaginable tragedy, Iran shows how unity and resilience truly look.