My tortured journey with former Guantanamo detainee David Hicks

I asked Hicks if he could describe the facial expressions of his tormentors while he was being tortured and if he recalled how they reacted to his pain.

"Usually the guards seemed cold and indifferent," Hicks said. "They deployed a just doing my job attitude, such as when they chained me to the floor in stress positions or made me sleep directly on a metal or concrete floor in a very cold air-conditioned room in only a pair of shorts. However some soldiers displayed discomfort and embarrassment. Usually guards were only used to restrain detainees, move them about, or help in the background with equipment. It was the interrogators who did the dirty work, expressing, hatred and frustration. At times soldiers did participate directly in beatings however, such the beatings I received before I arrived in GTMO (in Afghanistan, in transit, or when I was rendered to the two naval ships before being sent to Guantanamo). These soldiers made a sport of it.

"I was beaten by US forces the first time I saw them and realized straight away that torture was going to be a reality. It was very scary. As I say in my book, I could not help thinking of the saying, 'like trying to get blood from a stone and I was afraid of becoming that stone.'"

There's a harrowing section in Hicks' book where he describes how he had given up all hope after years of detention and abuse and planned to commit suicide.

"I was desperate; there was no other way out," Hicks wrote.

Those words. I've uttered them before. I've written them. I know what that kind of desperation feels like. I ask Hicks if we could talk about it, but there's silence on the other end of the receiver.

"Hello? You still there, David?" I said.

"Yeah mate."

I didn't press him. Maybe he was having a flashback. Perhaps he didn't want to talk about it. I decided to end our conversation.

"Let's catch up later in the week. We covered a lot of ground."

"Cheers, mate," David said and hung up.

I had a knot in my stomach. I had a hard time sleeping for the next few nights. I could not focus on anything, but the images in my mind of a helpless Hicks being tormented. It made me realize that one can never comprehend the extent of someone's pain and suffering until we hear about it first hand. I would get out of bed during those sleepless nights and walk into my son's room and just stare at him sleeping in his crib. There was something about that image of pure innocence that was soothing to me.