Hetq will be presenting a new series of articles devoted to those freedom fighters who participated in the Karabakh War of Liberation. We will be discussing the roads they have traveled, their memories of the period, their martyred comrades, their families and current lives.

“Yesterday was the anniversary of one of our friends, our commander Peto. Some of the guys who knew him got together. We rekindled old friendships and commemorated our commander’s passing.” says freedom fighter Harmik Hovsepyan. “He knew the full name of all the boys by heart and even knew something of their families back home.” the commander’s friend recounts. In the end, Peto sacrificed his own life to save the life of a fellow soldier whom he didn’t even know.

Harmik says that, “All the guys really miss those days; the clean and honest friendship that only is born through war and not in peacetime. Your friends meant the world. On those rare occasions when we had a chance to spend some time in Yerevan we quickly started to dream about returning back to Karabakh.”

Harmik now resides in Yerevan with his wife and daughter. He is employed as an instructor at the Aspar Arms shooting range. He says that the greatest two gifts he received from the war was the deep friendship of his fellow soldiers and the liberated territories. “I keep in touch with practically all of them. We see each other and get together on various occasions, whether it is someone’s birthday or whatever. And every time we meet we always recollect the past and tell stories of those days. That’s all we really talk about and we never get enough.”

In 1988 when the Karabakh issue started to percolate Harmik was serving in the Iranian army. When his stint was up he told friends and family that he was going to Germany on business but actually headed to the Shahumyan region of Karabakh. During the time news that Iranian citizens were going off to defend another country was kept under wraps. Harmik’s family had fled Armenia to Iran after the fall of the First Republic. His parents still reside in Tehran.

In Tehran Harmik attended the “Rostom” Armenian school and continued his education at the Marie Manoogian vocational school learning the jewelry trade.

The only ones who knew about his decision to go to Karabakh were his mother and wife. After being assigned to one of the detachments organized by the Armenian Revolutionary Federation he was transferred to the Gyulistan forests in the Shahumyan region. His assignment was to train the guys in the detachments based there as well as the local volunteers from the nearby villages.

Given that in 1990 fierce fighting hadn’t yet broken out, the time was used to train the local self-defense forces and to get them proficient in the use of firearms.

There was a lack of military training and practical experience with the ranks of the local self-defense forces. “We focused on both military and ideological instruction. Every one had to learn how to use a variety of weapons. While many carried firearms they had to be instructed how to correctly use them. A weapon can turn into a instrument for evil if not used to defend one’s own life, his family and country.”

After spending seven months in the Shahumyan region Harmik left for Iran to sell his apartment and returned with his wife to Yerevan with the intent of permanently resettling in Armenia.

He remained in Karabakh from 1992 till the end of the war there.

In October 1992 a special battalion was organized in Shushi to which Harmik was attached. He found himself in Drmbon after the fall of Martakert in 1992. He was contacted and told of the plans to more effectively organize the army’s companies. In May he was transferred to Shushi, which had been already liberated, and as an instructor participated in organizing a special company there. He served as deputy to the Company Commander, Jirayr Sefilyan, till the ceasefire.

Harmik says that he had the good fortune to get to know a lot of guys during the war years but that he lost many good friends as well. He quickly opens up a photo album and begins to count off both familiar and unfamiliar names and the nicknames of his comrades. One of them is Tatul Krpeyan who died in the village of Getashen, in the Shahumyan region, in 1991.

“I remember Tatul well. He was like a ‘fedayi’ (freedom fighter) from Sasoun - broad-shouldered, with curly hair and a thick moustache. They dispatched him to Getashen, the northern most point in Shahumyan. Not only did he serve as head of the detachment but he also taught in the school there. The role he played wasn’t limited to just fighting…”

“I’d like to say a few words about Ashot Bekor as well. At that time food was pretty hard to come by; there was little wheat planted in the fields. A directive from the Karabakh Defense Ministry ordered all bread to be first rationed to the soldiers. Ashot Bekor had a friend called Yashka who would go to the bakeries and bring back bread. The kids in Stepanakert would wait for him outside the bread shop and run after him calling out ‘uncle, give us some bread’. Yashka would always distribute 30 loaves out of the 110 he collected. One day Ashot got angry at Yashka for doing this and said he would go and collect the bread. As it turned out Ashot only returned with 20 loaves of bread out of 110. After that incident Ashot never made the bread run into town nor did he get angry with Yashka ever again.”

“We only feared one thing…that suddenly we’d have to inform the relatives about the death of one of our comrades. We feared nothing else...”
 
He closes the album and after a brief pause of silence continues, “Our people were victorious not only on the battlefield but by living as well. The village of Karin Tak came under attack several times. The residents couldn’t move around during the daytime. They celebrated their weddings, buried their dead and even planted the fields in the dark of the night. No one ever left the village and therein lays the secret of our victory.”

“Nowadays people are waiting for a certain force to present itself and save them. I remember that at the start of the hostilities people pinned their hopes on the Russians. They’d say that ‘the Russians would never allow such things to happen’. There then came a time when they understood that nobody else would come to their defense. Once they came to this realization the people also won a certain victory of sorts. Today as well, even though we’re not confronted with military hostilities, the struggle for a better life is a type of war to be waged. It is a struggle in which we are all to be held accountable but I don’t see this in our people today. At the very least they shouldn’t remain indifferent regarding the upcoming elections. I don’t want to tell them whom to vote for but they shouldn’t sell their right to do so for money.”