Irish Times Security Analyst Tom Clonan visits the US military's terrorist detention centre, in the first of a three-part series
The immigration card for the US asks you to state at what address you intend to reside while there. I carefully fill in "Joint Task Force, Guantanamo Bay, (JTF GTMO), Camp Delta, US Naval Station, Cuba".
The US immigration official at Dublin airport stares long and hard at the card and at me. After a significant pause he says: "You gotta be kiddin me, right?"
He lets me through. Many hours later, in Florida's Fort Lauderdale International Airport, I'm checking in for the charter flight to Guantanamo. "Got your ground clearance sir?" asks the check-in girl. "No one goes to Guantanamo without ground clearance."
As she eyes my Irish passport with some incredulity - "Ain't seen one of these before" - I fumble for the ground clearance cert that had been issued to me by the US military authorities at Guantanamo.
My fellow passengers, eight in all, consist of two Filipino contract workers, a Nebraskan TV cameraman, a Dutch TV presenter and four strangely silent men and women in civilian clothing.
October is Hurricane season in Florida. As the elderly nine-seat twin-engine Cessna rattles down the runway, swaying and bucking as it does so, I begin to think very seriously about the tropical storm warnings I had been listening to all morning. Eventually airborne, we bank southwest towards the Florida Keys, rising steadily over the Atlantic.
No one speaks throughout the entire four-and-a-half hour flight, with the exception of the Nebraskan, who punctuates the tense silence with regular exclamations of "holy shit" as strong winds buffet the plane. The four silent men and women remain expressionless and studiously avoid eye contact.
Our descent into Guantanamo Bay is steep and rapid. I am immediately struck by the sheer size and physical beauty of the US base - about 116sq km (45 square miles), including five square kilometres (two square miles) of natural deep-sea port waters.
As we make our final approach, I get a clear view of the perimeter fence - 27km (17 miles) long and dotted with Cuban and US military towers - that separates Guantanamo from Cuba.
My silent fellow passengers make a quick exit without even the briefest of backward glances. It's clear to me that they are certainly not tourists and definitely not interested in exchanging names and phone numbers. I quickly learn that on Guantanamo, it is impolite to ask for anyone's identity.
GUANTANAMO IS HOT, even in October. It's approaching 40 degrees when I arrive.
Our reception committee consists of two female US marines - both of whom carry pump-action shotguns in addition to side-arms. Despite this, and my sense of foreboding about the base, the welcome we receive from the US marine corps is warm and informal. One of the marines smirks at the woolly jumper I have been wearing since I left Dublin. "You sure won't be needing that sweater here sir."
In the first of many seeming contradictions I would encounter on Guantanamo, the US marines who process our arrival and security check on the base are thorough and efficient, and yet at the same time these young - very young - soldiers are informal, articulate and friendly.
I then meet my guide for the coming days - Sheila Tunney, a public affairs officer who happens to be Irish-American.
Guantanamo is unmistakably American. US road signage and street markings are everywhere. So also are large motel-like accommodation blocks built for the troops based there.
Near the port is a sprawling air-conditioned shopping mall. The overall feel of Guantanamo is of a small US town. Americana is all around: yellow school buses, flood-lit football pitches and running tracks, a nine-hole golf course and a neon-lit McDonald's drive-through.
This is home-town USA except that it's also a detention centre for hundreds of suspected al-Qaeda and Taliban operatives, most captured in Afghanistan during the US-led Enduring Freedom, the invasion that toppled the Taliban in the wake of the 9/11 attacks on New York and Washington.
The peculiar Stepford-like quality to Guantanamo is reinforced on the windward side of the base where small residential housing estates with names such as Iguana Drive and Caribbean Circle are located. These pretty housing estates, with neat white painted picket fences, comprise part of what the troops refer to as the downtown area.
Driving out of downtown, one climbs slowly uphill to a ridge, atop which one encounters the first of many security measures. A condition of being allowed visit Guantanamo is that journalists do not describe security measures in detail. Suffice it to say they are substantial.
Beyond the ridge, the sprawling Camp Delta comes into view.
The camp consists of five detention centres - numbered one to five - where approximately 505 detainees are confined. They are divided into three categories - most-compliant, compliant and non-compliant.
Most-compliant detainees wear white cotton uniforms and are housed in a communal setting with relative freedom of movement and association in Camp 4. These detainees comprise 34 per cent of Guantanamo's prison population.
Compliant detainees wear tan-coloured cotton uniforms and are detained in Camp 1. They make up 31 per cent of Guantanamo's inmates.
Non-compliant detainees - 19 per cent of Guantanamo Bay's prison population - are prisoners who are deemed violent and a threat to guards and fellow detainees. They are housed in Camps 2 and 3 and wear orange uniforms.
Camp 5 is a newly constructed state-of-the-art prison modelled on an Indiana state prison. It houses 16 per cent of Camp Delta's inmates - a mixture of non-compliant, compliant and most-compliant prisoners - who are considered by the authorities to be of the highest potential intelligence value to the US.
The entire Camp Delta complex housing the five detention centres is a maze of watchtowers and high barbed wire. There are many layers of fencing masked with green netting along with a profusion of arc lights, infra-red monitors, cameras and gateway systems. Spread over a wide area, Camp Delta overlooks the ocean to the west and its neighbouring camp, Camp America, which is the administrative headquarters of the US troops who guard the detention facility.
Aside from the 2,000 or so soldiers that guard Camp Delta, there are a further 5,000 or more US marines and US navy personnel deployed to Guantanamo Bay. In addition, there is a large number of American civilian contractors on the base, along with so-called third country nationals including Filipinos, Jamaicans and Haitians.
As well as these personnel, there is a cohort of interpreters of various nationalities who live within the base and who assist in the interrogation and administration of detainees. There are also a number of personnel from the US's various intelligence agencies on the base - including from time to time, members of the CIA.
Throughout my stay on Guantanamo, I am not allowed approach or talk to any civilian personnel on the base. All of these civilians and most of the US military personnel I encounter wear no identifying name tags and obscure their identity cards when we walk past each other.
At sunset on my first day, I watch from the porch of my air-conditioned quarters as the Stars and Stripes are lowered to the accompaniment of the US national anthem. As the US military personnel around me face the flag and snap to attention, I can hear the Muslim call to prayer blow gently on the breeze from Camp Delta.
Contradictions and culture clashes abound on Guantanamo.
SOLDIERS SPEND A 12-month tour of duty at the US military base at Guantanamo. A year away from home and loved ones is a long time. Most of the soldiers and sailors I speak to say that Guantanamo is a stressful posting.
Dealing with the oppressive heat and working in the close confines of Camp Delta takes its toll. At night however, over a few relaxing beers at barbecues and karaoke, the soldiers agree on one thing: "It sure beats serving in Iraq."
Pulling guard duty in Camp Delta is considered the most difficult assignment on Guantanamo. Inside Camp Delta, all personnel are required to remove nametags and identification badges. I am informed that this is designed to protect the identity of soldiers and civilians working there.
This anonymity is also designed to protect US soldiers and family members - many of whom are already serving or are due to serve in Iraq - from possible reprisals if captured by al-Qaeda.
At the entrance I notice the rank markings and unit insignia of the soldier nearest to me are of a cavalry unit I have written extensively about in the past.
When I mention his home state, his cold stare evaporates and he breaks into a huge grin.
"And what part of Ireland are you from man?" he asks.
The others manning the gate express enormous interest in my nationality. "You really from Ireland, dude?"
When I ask them have they ever been to Ireland, they break into collective laughter. "Sure man - we've all been through Shannon a couple of times."
Once inside Camp Delta, I am introduced to Sgt Maj Sanchez of the US marine corps . "You can print my name - I'm already on the internet," he says.
Sgt Maj Sanchez describes the daily routine during Ramadan for the detainees. "Prayers, exercise, education - we teach them to read and write Urdu, Pashtu, Arabic, Farsi, and Uzbek. They get to write home and receive letters.
"Many of the detainees were illiterate when they got here - when they write their first postcard home, we have a graduation ceremony for them."
Sgt Maj Sanchez also outlines the manner in which Camp Delta nutritionists design special menus for Ramadan - "to ensure they get a balanced diet and the right calorific intake during the fasting period, though not all of them fast, some of them eat due to personal issues, such as illness or whatever."
At sunset, the prisoners pray. "They pray a lot," notes Sgt Maj Sanchez.
UNLIKE THE OPEN-AIR Camp X Ray, where detainees were first housed on arrival to Guantanamo in 2002, the Halliburton-built Camp Delta is a primitive, but fully functioning prison system.
The detainees are housed in individual cells in concrete-and-steel-built blockhouses or wings. Each block houses 48 cells, 24 opposite 24. Each green and black concrete cell has its own bed, squat toilet and basic sink. No slopping out for prisoners in Guantanamo.
Compliant prisoners are allowed prayer mats, prayer hats, a Koran, reading and writing materials, toiletries and board games. Each cell is separated by a metal grid and detainees can communicate freely with one another through the wire mesh.
"Leaders assert themselves in here, you know, lead the group in prayers and such," says Sgt Maj Sanchez. "Some are instigators or agitators, but they're pretty much compliant most of the time."
When the prisoners are at prayer, a traffic cone with the letter P marked on it is pushed into the centre of the block by the guards to ensure a respectful silence is maintained by other Camp Delta personnel entering the wing.
At the end of each block is an exercise area. The exercise area consists of a caged and shaded space - about 50 square metres (60 square yards) in size. A football sits forlornly in the corner of the empty cage. Pointing at the ball, one of the guards says: "you should see these guys, you know, in the orange uniform and the beards and all, they're pretty talented with the ball."
On the floor of the exercise yard - and in each cell block and cell - a small arrow with the word "Makkah" indicates the distance and direction to Mecca. "This facilitates prayer," says the guard.
These are the conditions that apply for the compliant detainees in Camp 1, and also the non-compliant detainees in Camps 2 and 3. Sgt Maj Sanchez describes the prisoners there as "violent from time to time".
"They have been known to throw faeces, and other bodily fluids at the guards - and they can be verbally abusive."
I am told that for safety reasons, I am not permitted access to Camps 2 and 3.
From time to time, detainees in tan and orange uniforms pass by, escorted by guards.
These prisoners are shackled at the ankles and wrists, with both sets of shackles connected by a long chain, which effectively hobbles the detainee. One detainee in particular stares at me and continues to stare intensely at me over his shoulder until he disappears around a corner at the end of the block.
Sgt Maj Sanchez observes this. "All detainees get private access to International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC) personnel - there are five permanently on Guantanamo - they meet here in Juliet Block in Camp 1," he says.
He points to a table and chairs where prisoners can meet with ICRC personnel on request. Interpreters, I am informed, are provided and guards observe such meetings from a distance.
From here I am brought to Camp 4. In this camp, housing over one third of Camp Delta's population, the most-compliant detainees live in communal prison bays. In addition to freedom of association and freedom of movement, the detainees in Camp 4 share a central, outdoor exercise yard - a large area with a basketball hoop at each end.
Sgt Maj Sanchez informs me that the detainees love to "shoot hoops".
"They're crazy about basketball - and they're pretty good at it."
A large number of detainees move to and fro through the environs of Camp 4, unshackled and uncuffed. They stare languidly at me through the wire. None makes any attempt to communicate. The heat is truly oppressive and as I leave Camp 4, the prisoners continue to stare indifferently in my direction.
From Camp 4 we make our way to Camp Delta's medical and outpatients unit. Newly constructed and fully air conditioned, the facility is run by US navy captain and surgeon, John Edmondson. He shows us around the high-tech facility. He then takes questions.
"How many prisoners are on hunger strike?" I ask. One of Capt Edmondson's aides corrects me. "You mean voluntary fasting."
Capt Edmondson cuts in. "Yeah, it's a hunger strike, call it what you will."
He says the number on hunger strike fluctuates but that at the moment it is around 50 detainees. I ask him if they will be force-fed. "Yes," he replies.
"I'm a doctor, this is my hospital and I'm not in the business of letting people die."
I ask him how he force-feeds the detainees. "Nasally, through a tube - some we have to restrain initially, but when they register their disagreement, they all accept the feeding. We've had a few take out the drip from time to time, but on the whole, they accept it."
I THEN ASK Cap Edmondson about prisoner abuse. He assures me that it "doesn't happen at Guantanamo". He says he has never treated a patient at Guantanamo with injuries consistent with a beating or any other maltreatment.
He says that his predecessor found no evidence of maltreatment or beatings. Citing concerns about privacy and "the principles of the Third Geneva Convention", which "prohibits the display of detainees for public curiosity", I am refused permission to see Guantanamo's hunger strikers.
The last of Camp Delta's facilities I visit is Camp 5, the state-of-the-art maximum-security wing which houses 16 per cent of Guantanamo's detainees.
Recently built - it was completed in April of 2004 - Camp 5 or Camp Echo as it is also known, is modelled on Miami County Prison in Indiana. Unlike the remainder of Camp Delta, Camp 5 is fully air-conditioned and resembles any high-tech prison in the US.
There are four wings within the prison, each capable of holding 24 prisoners. Each cell is painted white and has its own slit window. Each cell is equipped with a bed, stainless-steel sink and toilet.
Camp 5 has an eerie feel to it - a sterile, sanitised building with security doors that crash shut. As a tropical thunderstorm rages outside, the thunder is barely audible.
Camp Echo is an apt name. With its stark chambers, it has an air of permanency that gives some clue as to the future of Guantanamo Bay. The massive investment in this facility, along with the fact that it is as yet only half full of prisoners deemed to be of high-intelligence value to the US, seem to indicate that Guantanamo will be in operation for some years to come.
• On Monday's Agenda page, Tom Clonan meets a prisoner alleged to have worked closely with Saddam Hussein