Mirror (UK) - Sep 9 2002
INSIDE THE NEW CAMP X-RAY
>From RICHARD WALLACE, US Editor at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba
THIS is the first glimpse of Camp Delta, the new Camp X-Ray at Guantanamo Bay in Cuba.
Here 598 al-Qaeda and Taliban suspects from 38 countries - including seven Britons - are held without charge, without legal rights and for some, without hope.
For 167 of the 168 hours in a week their world is a cramped 8ft x 6ft 8in cell.
Their day-to-day existence in a remote corner of the US Naval Base on the south-east of the island is pitiful.
The strain of living in such conditions - condemned by human rights groups again last week - has taken a severe toll. The Daily Mirror has learned that more than 30 of the men have attempted suicide.
Occupying five dusty acres on a clifftop half a mile from the old Camp X-Ray, the new facility is no temporary jail.
Camp Delta is designed as a permanent prison - a grim monument of rigid metal, steel and razor wire to President Bush's determination to continue offending basic human rights. As the weeks and months crawl by, more and more unidentified prisoners arrive.
Last month 34 were flown in from Afghanistan. Their arrival left just 14 vacancies, but phase three of the prison will be finished by next month, allowing the camp to incarcerate 816.
So far £30million has been poured into the project - that's £36,764 a cell - and blueprints for the facility to be expanded to detain 2,000 prisoners have been approved.
Senior officers have also earmarked a site near the base airfield for a bricks and mortar prison. A fully-equipped permanent hospital with 116 beds is being built at high speed to replace the medical centre of scruffy, beige tents where 50 major surgeries have been performed since the detainees began to arrive in January.
Guantanamo's business is banging up suspected Taliban and al-Qaeda. And business is clearly good for the Americans.
But the mental health of the detainees is cause for concern. One of the 30 who attempted suicide tried to slash his wrists with a plastic razor while three others tried to hang themselves.
US officials also confirmed to us that 37 other detainees are being treated for severe mental health problems.
And 18 of those psychiatric cases are so severely traumatised that they are receiving daily treatment and powerful drugs to stave off a variety of symptoms.
The psychiatric problems include major depression, post-traumatic stress, personality disorders, psychotic attacks and suicidal tendencies.
A new Amnesty International report says the detainees are in legal limbo and face a serious breach of their human rights.
They are routinely denied the right to see lawyers, although they could face trial by special US military courts with power to pass death sentences.
The Mirror quizzed guards, doctors, nurses and military officials during a heavily-escorted three-day visit.
Our every move was monitored. And it was difficult to get any information, either on or off the record.
But despite the tight restrictions the Mirror has pieced together the most accurate picture yet of life for the detainees. And it's not pretty.
The cramped cells, cut from steel shipping containers and even smaller than X-Ray's notorious cages, are collected in 10 blocks.
Delta, surrounded by thick green netting to keep out prying eyes, is brightly lit by powerful arc lights 24 hours a day and the camp is ringed with seven wooden guard towers manned by sharpshooters.
There are regular incidents when some prisoners go stir crazy, shouting and screaming as they climb and claw their cell walls in despair.
But most of the time there is an eerie, pathetic silence. On our two visits to the camp there wasn't a sound and it was hard to believe there was any life behind the wire at all.
Overhead, like extras in a bad movie, huge black turkey vultures lazily circled the parched landscape.
The 30 who have tried to end their lives have taken desperate and pathetic measures. A few have used the plastic utensils issued with their meals to try and slash their wrists.
Some repeatedly banged their heads against the metal wall in their cells or punched the walls in frustration.
Other men suffer from insomnia which in turn makes them anxious and then depressed. A few pace their cells manically or pass the time doing endless press-ups.
Extraordinarily, the military insist none of men's mental health has degenerated since being incarcerated in either camp and that all 37 had their psychiatric problems before being captured.
Doctor Commander James Radkee said: "Some have maladaptive, life-long behavioural problems."
When we confronted Delta commander Brigadier General Rick Baccus he admitted there had been problems.
"We are concerned about their mental health," he said. "So we have expert personnel trained in such issues who take care of that aspect of medical treatment."
But army chaplain Major Mike Merrill, a 35-year-old Southern Baptist preacher from Maryland who ministers to the guards and some of the detainees, admitted talk of suicide was common.
He said: "They are going through a very rough time. There are issues of loneliness, frustration, anger, emotional mood swings.
"They miss their families, they lose hope and lose sight of tomorrow. Like any prison there are a few individuals who will say, 'I don't want to live any more. I have no purpose'."
Merrill initially saw the one Christian detainee, but has converted five Muslims to Christianity and has lent them Bibles translated into Arabic. "I didn't try to convert them, they approached me," he added.
Along one wall of the cells is a welded metal bedframe 4ft off the floor on which the detainee places his inch-thick foam mattress.
Underneath they store approved personal possessions - prayer mat and beads, a pair of flip-flops, a bucket, towel, flannel, toothpaste, soap, shampoo and a copy of the Koran. They have access to books on religious texts and vocabulary and are allowed to send four letters and two postcards a month. Writing materials are confiscated as soon as their letters are completed.
The rear section of the cell has a 4ft x 4ft mesh window which allows - in theory - the breeze from the Caribbean to blow through the prison.
But the desert heat which sends temperatures soaring into the high 90s by 8am, coupled with intense humidity, means there's little fresh air, let alone wind, to cool off in.
A big steel dome on the roof of each cell houses a cooling fan which is turned on or off at the discretion of the guards.
Prisoners are sometimes treated for dehydration, but the military insist they do have a permanent supply of water and that it is often their own fault.
In one corner of the cell is a flushable toilet built into the concrete floor alongside a lowered wash basin to allow Muslim prisoners to wash their feet before prayers.
They get three meals a day, all halal approved, totalling around 2,700 calories.
Food is served on plastic plates and passed through a slot in the wire cell door.
Each week they receive just two opportunities to exercise for a strict 15-minute period. That's it. They exercise in a purpose-built yard shielded from the rest of the population. Most run around in circles and it is no wonder the detainees have all gained an average of a stone locked up in their cells for such long stretches.
Disgracefully, yet just within the guidelines of the Geneva Convention, they are allowed only two 15-minute showers a week when they are also given a freshly laundered orange two-piece prison suit.
Each time they are required to leave their cell they are shackled at the hands, waist and feet and escorted by at least two guards who tightly grip either arm.
Detainees needing medical help - one in three has dormant tuberculosis - are strapped to a trolley to be taken to hospital and are also restrained and manacled by their ankle to hospital beds during treatment.
Five times a day a taped message calls them to prayer. Inmates attempt to engage the guards in conversation, calling out in English. The guards are under orders to be be polite, but businesslike.
Occasionally, in a rare moment of good humour, some of the captives sing Britney Spears or Madonna songs. Oddly, country singer Garth Brooks is a particular favourite.
It is camp policy that inmates use a normal speaking voice. Any shouting or attempts to communicate with other prisoners over distance are punished severely. The ultimate punishment is The Cooler, a metal box which is air-conditioned and lit, with just enough room for the offender to move around in.
All detainees have been interrogated - some more often than others.
The manacled men are seated throughout interviews lasting from 30 minutes to four hours and running from 9am to 9pm.
US officials insist detainees are not harmed or threatened. They even secretly reward co-operative prisoners with a McDonald's meal from the base's only fast-food joint.
Outside interrogations and the hour of exercise and showers each week, the detainees just languish in their cells. General Baccus, 49, insisted that their human rights had not been ignored although their conditions had significantly improved since the closure of Camp X-Ray.
He said: "Remember, we believe they are very dangerous individuals who took up arms against American servicemen and women in an attempt to do them harm.
"Yes, the facilities in Camp Delta are a great improvement over Camp X-Ray, from both sides of consideration."
Baccus could not say how long Guantanamo Bay would continue to hold prisoners.
"It would be hard for me to speculate in terms of how long we'll be here," he said.
"But it's safe to say that I will probably have a follow-on commander here when my tour finishes in four to six months time. Whether he will have a follow-on commander I can't speculate."
For the detainees each day is the same. They all ask what's going to happen to them. They all ask for lawyers. They all ask for some glimmer of hope.
To each question the guards have only one answer: "We don't know".
And it seems that at this time nobody knows, not even the President of the United States himself.