Free Guantánamo Diary by Mohamedou Ould Slahi, Larry Siems

well, but being raped is inevitable. But if you tell me the truth, you’re gonna be released immediately.”
    I was old enough to know that he was a rotten liar and a man with no honor, but he was in charge, so I had to listen to his bullshit again and again. I just wished that the agencies would start to hire smart people. Did he really think that anybody would believe his nonsense? Somebody would have to be stupid: was he stupid, or did he think I was stupid? I would have respected him more had he told me, “Look, if you don’t tell me what I want to hear, I’m gonna torture you.”
    Anyway, I said, “Of course I will be truthful!”
    “What terrorist organizations are you part of?”
    “None!” I replied. He put back the bag on my head and started a long discourse of humiliation, cursing, lies, and threats. I don’t really remember it all, nor am I ready to sift in my memory for such bullshit. I was so tired and hurt, and tried to sit but he forced me back. I cried from the pain. Yes, a man my age cried silently. I just couldn’t bear the agony.
    ■■■■■■■■■ after a couple of hours sent me back to my cell, promising me more torture. “This was only the start,” as he put it. I was returned to my cell, terrorized and worn out. I prayed to Allah to save me from him. I lived the days to follow in horror: whenever ■■■■■■■■■ went past our cell I looked away, avoiding seeing him so he wouldn’t “see” me, exactly like an ostrich. ■■■■■■■■■ was checking on everybody, day and night, and giving the guards the recipe for every detainee. I saw him torturing this other detainee. I don’t want to recount what I heard about him; I just want to tell what I saw with my eyes. It was an Afghani teenager, I would say 16 or 17. ■■■■■■■■■ made him stand for about three days, sleepless. I felt so bad for him. Whenever he fell down the guards came to him, shouting “no sleep for terrorists,” and made him stand again. I remember sleeping and waking up, and he stood there like a tree.
    Whenever I saw ■■■■■■■■■ around, my heart started to pound, and he was often around. One day he sent a ■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■ interpreter to me to pass me a message.
    “ ■■■■■■■■■ is gonna kick your ass.”
    I didn’t respond, but inside me I said, May Allah stop you! But in fact ■■■■■■■■■ didn’t kick my rear end; instead ■■■■■■■■■■■ pulled me for interrogation. * He was a niceguy; maybe he felt he could relate to me because of the language. And why not? Even some of the guards used to come to me and practice their German when they learned that I spoke it.
    Anyway, he recounted a long story to me. “I’m not like ■■■■■■■■■ . He’s young and hot-tempered. I don’t use inhumane methods; I have my own methods. I want to tell something about American history, and the whole war against terrorism.”
    ■■■■■■■■■ was straightforward and enlightening. He started with American history and the Puritans, who punished even the innocents by drowning them, and ended with the war against terrorism. “There is no innocent detainee in this campaign: either you cooperate with us and I am going to get you the best deal, or we are going to send you to Cuba.”
    “What?
Cuba?
” I exclaimed. “I don’t even speak Spanish, and you guys
hate
Cuba.”
    “Yes, but we have an American territory in Guantánamo,” he said, and told me about Teddy Roosevelt and things like that. I knew that I was going to be sent further from home, which I hated.
    “Why would you send me to Cuba?”
    “We have other options, like Egypt and Algeria, but we only send them the very bad people. I hate sending people over there, because they’ll experience painful torture.”
    “Just send me to Egypt.”
    “You sure do not want that. In Cuba they treat detainees humanely,