72 Hours At Camp X-Ray

As the detention camp reaches capacity, reporters are invited to watch the interplay between detainees, guards and doctors.

It begins as a shiny speck in the southeast skies of the lone landing strip here at Gitmo, the oldest U.S. base overseas. Within minutes the lumbering, gray C-141B Starlifter flies low over the tarmac and over a patch of palm trees, as if part of an annual air show. On a hot and windy afternoon, the deep blue waters of the Caribbean serve as the postcard backdrop...

Almost immediately a crack security force of mostly baby-faced Marines surrounds the plane. They wear black baseball leg guards and bulletproof vests and carry M-16 rifles.

Meanwhile, Humvees mounted with .50-caliber machine guns and 40mm grenade launchers take their positions. A Navy helicopter whirls overhead.

Once the aircraft is secured, the freak show begins, a sort of "Hannibal the Cannibal" production. Down the back ramp of the mammoth aircraft, the guards slowly unload the latest detainees from the war in Afghanistan, 34 altogether.

Wearing bright orange wool knit caps, blacked-out goggles, earmuffs, white surgical masks, bright orange jumpsuits, denim jackets, beige mittens (taped around the wrists), handcuffs and ankle shackles, the detainees don't look natural.

They look like giant bright orange flies.

After a 25-hour flight of mostly sitting, the prisoners hobble along as the Marines, who look twice as big, walk them out and frisk them. One soldier handles a captive like a mannequin -- moving him back, forward, and to the side -- before lifting him straight off his feet and onto one of two waiting buses.

"Shut up! Head down!"

"Man, they must be so scared," says a TV camerawoman watching with an international media pool from about 400 yards away.

Detainees' days start with a prayer call at 5 a.m., followed by breakfast, a shower (every other day), sick call, noon prayer, lunch, recreation (15 minutes a couple of times a week), mail call, sunset prayer, dinner, evening prayer and bedtime around 9 p.m. The camp's Halogen lights stay on all night.

"It must be freaky," chimes in her colleague.

The prisoners are here because the military considers them "hard-core" terrorists -- willing to escape, to kill themselves and others. But now they do pretty much as directed. They walk, they shut up, they lower their heads. They board buses that will take them to a ferry that will take them across Guantanamo Bay to a detention facility known as Camp X-Ray.

Base officials allowed reporters to record audio and report the landings live via cell phone for the first time since the flights began arriving Jan. 11. They refused to allow cameras.

The last time the Pentagon released pictures of the detainees -- on their knees, wearing the goggles, and surrounded by guards -- the images created an international uproar. Rights groups cried inhumane treatment.

Defense Secretary Donald Rumsfeld denied the allegations, insisting that the detainees have it better here than in Afghanistan.

When the detainees arrive at Camp X-Ray, they are told they're in Cuba and then undergo a 45-minute intake process, which, like the airstrip landing, is monitored by the Red Cross.

The routine includes a delousing, or chemical washdown, and a physical. The detainees also get fingerprinted and photographed.

They get a toothbrush, mint-flavored toothpaste, a bottle of "Lively Salon" antidandruff shampoo, soap, flip flops, a foam sleeping mat, two buckets, a washcloth, a canteen, a prayer cap, two blankets, a sheet, a Koran and two towels, one for praying.

When they're done, they're assigned to the cells in which they will begin their new lives. These are 8-feet-square, with chain-link sides and tin roofs. The Halogen lights stay on all night.

The next day starts with prayer call about 5 a.m. A sign on a pole at the edge of the camp points the direction to Mecca. The prisoners come from 31 countries, including Saudi Arabia, Yemen, Pakistan, Algeria, England, Egypt, Australia, France, Russia, Belgium and Sweden. Base officials say there are Christian prisoners as well as Muslims.

After prayer, the detainees' day goes like this: breakfast, a shower (every other day), sick call, noon prayer, lunch, recreation (15 minutes a couple of times a week), mail call, sunset prayer, dinner, evening prayer and bedtime around 9 p.m.

Each meal the detainees get is considered halal, or religiously appropriate for Muslims. A typical breakfast includes oatmeal, an orange, fresh bread and a bottle of water. For lunch, it's pasta or vegetable stew, dry cereal including Froot Loops, a box of raisins, two granola bars, a bag of chips, and bag of peanuts and water. For dinner they get white rice, red beans, a banana and water.

U.S. Army Capt. Sean Campion, one of the camp guards, characterizes life at Camp X-Ray as "utter boredom."

Mohammad Saiful-Islam, 39, speaks more with the detainees than almost anybody at the camp. As the Muslim chaplain, he ministers at the facility up to five hours every day.

"The role of chaplain is unique," Saiful-Islam says. "We don't go with a preconceived idea that the person is so and so. As a chaplain we approach them as a human being.

"They haven't said that God has abandoned them, because they know," he says. "That's the hope that they have, that God is their only hope.

Concertina wire and nine guard towers surround Camp X-Ray. The American flag is everywhere -- painted on the guard towers, flying high in front of the facility.

It is day two at X-Ray for the 34 newly arrived from Kandahar. A German shepherd and his handler patrol the camp's perimeter. Bright orange figures sit in their cells, some of them praying. One or two prisoners run for exercise in a fenced area, wearing handcuffs but no ankle shackles.

Every so often a prisoner is led to one of five interrogation rooms, freshly built wood buildings with air conditioners and no windows. Three guards accompany him -- one on either side and one behind.

One of the guards puts a hand behind the head of the detainee, forcing him to look down. This is done to "provide positive control," says U.S. Army Col. Terry Carrico, in effect the prison warden.

"It means he can't look ahead. He can't make a plan. They don't know where they're going. That's a technique across correctional facilities in the United States."

"In the beginning, they were very unsure," says Carrico. "They didn't know if we were going to take care of them, hurt them or kill them."

"The security here I would consider tighter than death row in a prison in the United States."

The morning run to Fleet Hospital 20 takes place as scheduled. This is for prisoners needing medical attention, as a fair number do. Some are underweight, others are missing toes, fingers and limbs.

The growth of the base has left Camp X-Ray surprisingly close to a suburban-style military community of beige, green and yellow houses in subdivisions with names like Caribbean Circle and West Iguana.

The 20-bed hospital is a high-tech, air-conditioned white tent which looks like a futuristic movie set, with low ceilings, fluorescent lighting, and padded white walls, floors and ceilings. The staff calls it a "temper tent."

While she sees the detainees as patients, she allows that they're not "regular patients." She often finds herself thinking, "Oh, my God, they could be related to this or related to that. But I still try to treat them as a patient."

The medical staff relies on linguists to help communicate with the patients, but they've also come up with their own inventions, such as a longhand list of English phrases and their Arabic counterparts. In a pinch, they show the patients the list, which includes the following phrases: I'm in pain. Thirsty. Hungry. Bathroom. Urinate. Arm. Hand. Leg. Back. IV Hurts. Cold. Hot. Sick, will throw up.

While calm has returned to Fleet Hospital 20, officials elsewhere on the base are bracing for what they say may be inevitable: the death of one of the detainees. Not at the hands of the guards. But with 300 already in custody, and scores in poor health to begin with, they say something is bound to happen.

Source: St.Petersburg Times

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