War torture

from: Jacobo Timermann, Prisoner Without a Name, Cell Without a Number

It’s so strange. You’re rushed form one world to another so quickly that you’re dizzy. You’re completely unprepared for what happens to you. One minute, you’re a middle class professional, getting ready to go to the office; in the next minute, you’re covered with blood, on your knees in a basement somewhere, surrounded by men you’ve never seen who enjoy kicking you and spitting on you. They strikp you naked. You lose control of your body. You dirty yourself in front of them. They laugh. This is the first phase of torture – you’re totally unprepared, shocked, horrified, hysterical. … Your hands are tied behind you. They put a blindfold over your eyes. Total silence. No one says anything. They people you can’t see begin to pound on you, they hit your head, they hit your eyes and ears, they hit your private parts. You scream and scream. Then someone says to stop and they stop. Then you’re dragged off and dropped on a cot, or pulled on a table. They tear off any clothes you might still have on. They tie your hands and feet to the table so that you’re spread-eagled, naked, before them. They toss a bucket full of water on you. Then they begin with the electric shocks. To every part of your body. It’s very odd – you writhe and jerk but you can’t scream, the pain is so intense that you jerk and buck like an animal, but you can’t scream. They stop and ask questions. Then they start