I
t’s been said that only equals can be friends. Any relationship between a prisoner and a guard is fraught with mistrust and uncertainty.

So it was for Steve Wood and Mohamedou Ould Slahi. When Wood was sent to serve as a Guantanamo Bay guard, each regarded the other with suspicion and fear.

Today though, says Wood, “Islam doesn’t have godfathers, but we are unofficially godfathers to each other’s children. I consider him a true brother.”

When Wood deployed to Gitmo in 2004, he was warned: “Don’t turn your back on these guys. They’ll kill you if they can. They’re the worst of the worst.”

Then he met the diminutive occupant of the cell known as Echo Special. “Big smile on his face, shakes my hand,” says Wood. “He says, ‘What’s up, dude?’... I was more shocked than anything.”

That smile was partly a mask, Slahi admits. Wood offered him coffee; Slahi accepted. “I’m not a big coffee drinker, but I said ‘yes,’ because I didn’t want to antagonize my guard.”

“He had the right to visit pain upon me, including killing me, with no consequences,” says Slahi. “He was always in full control.” Wood concedes the point; he says he could have been ordered to mistreat Slahi but adds he would have refused to obey any unlawful order.

But, slowly, they bonded over rummy and board games. Later, Wood helped Slahi cope with recurring nightmares. He listened as Slahi practiced his testimony for legal proceedings.

Their friendship remained unequal as long as they were guard and prisoner, Slahi acknowledges, but he adds: “When he went back home, he wrote me a very beautiful letter in support that helped me get out.”

Upon Slahi’s release, “we rekindled our friendship,” he says. Wood has visited Slahi in Mauritania; one of those visits was the subject of a documentary short, “My Brother’s Keeper.”

“He showed me how forgiving someone can be,” says Wood. “He showed me the real Islam that the media wasn’t portraying. He is a great man.”


BY: Bob Verini