“I Couldn’t Breathe”: U.S. Army Veteran George Rees Details Harrowing 3-Day ICE Detainment and “Torture” After Being Mistaken for Undocumented Immigrant
WASHINGTON, D.C. — The promise of America is often wrapped in the symbols of its defense: the flag, the uniform, the oath. But for U.S. Army veteran George Rees, those symbols offered no protection when he found himself staring down the barrel of federal law enforcement on a quiet road in Camarillo, California. In a testimony that hushed a congressional hearing room and brought lawmakers to the edge of tears, Rees detailed a nightmare ordeal of mistaken identity, excessive force, and a three-day descent into the hell of federal detention—all for the crime of driving to work.

Rees appeared before a panel investigating the conduct of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and federal agents under the current administration. His story, delivered with the stoic trembling of a man trying to hold onto his dignity while recounting his humiliation, has become a lightning rod for critics of the expanding powers of the Department of Homeland Security.
“Agents Smashed My Window”
The incident occurred on July 10, 2025. Rees was commuting to his job as a security guard at a licensed farm in Camarillo. It was a routine drive, one he had made countless times. But on this morning, the road was blocked by federal immigration agents lying in wait.
“I identified myself as a U.S. citizen and a veteran,” Rees told the committee. “But that didn’t matter.”
What followed was a scene of chaos that Rees describes as a violation of every principle he fought to defend. Without provocation, he claims agents escalated the stop immediately.
“Agents smashed my window, sprayed tear gas and pepper spray into my car, and dragged me out,” he testified.
The violence of the extraction was extreme. Rees described choking on the gas, unable to breathe, his vision blurred by chemicals. Even as he complied with their shouting, conflicting commands, he was treated as a violent threat.
“They pinned me down, one kneeling on my back and another kneeling on my neck while my hands were already behind me,” he said. The image of a knee on the neck invokes a painful history in American policing, and hearing it applied to a compliant veteran shocked those in attendance.
Into the Void: Three Days of Silence
If the arrest was brutal, the detention was psychological torture. Rees was first taken to a Navy base where agents collected his DNA—a procedure usually reserved for serious criminals. From there, he was transferred to a detention center where he vanished from the world.
“Held for three days without charges,” Rees recounted. “No phone call. No lawyer. No medical care.”
Despite suffering from chemical burns on his skin from the tear gas and pepper spray, Rees was denied a shower to wash off the irritants. He sat in his cell, burning, confused, and isolated.
Then came the final indignity. On Friday morning, agents placed him on “suicide watch,” not because he was suicidal, but as a punitive or administrative measure often used in detention facilities.
“Suicide watch is a yellow concrete room with a concrete bed and a thin mattress,” he explained. “Light stays on 24/7. You’re stripped naked and put in a hospital gown. A guard watches you constantly.”
For days, Rees sat in that yellow room, naked and watched, while his family had no idea if he was alive or dead. He had simply disappeared on his way to work.

“Released Without Explanation”
Almost as suddenly as it began, the nightmare ended. Rees was released without a single charge filed against him. There was no apology, no explanation of the mistake, and no paperwork justifying the trauma he had endured. He was simply let go, left to pick up the pieces of a life interrupted by state-sanctioned violence.
“That entire experience violated the very principles I fought to defend,” Rees said, his voice cracking.
But his testimony was not just a recounting of events; it was a plea for legal reform. Rees highlighted a critical “crack in the law” that prevents victims of federal abuse from seeking justice.
“If these had been state or local officers, I could take them to court right now and demand answers,” he argued. “But because they were federal agents, they are shielded by a blanket of immunity.”
This legal doctrine, often referred to as absolute or qualified immunity depending on the context, makes it nearly impossible for citizens to sue federal officers for constitutional violations. It is this “gap” that Rees is urging Congress to close.

A Regime of “Authoritarianism”
Following Rees’s testimony, lawmakers weighed in with blistering critiques of the Trump administration’s immigration policies. One representative, visibly moved by Rees’s account, contextualized his experience within a broader pattern of racial profiling and unchecked power.
“We have a Trump regime that is so deeply racist… Nobody is immune to this, quite frankly, unless you are a white South African,” the lawmaker stated, referencing the perceived bias in current refugee policies.
The committee discussed reports from other detention centers, including the Eloy Detention Center in Arizona, where women have reported “horrific conditions,” abuse, misconduct, and even torture. The representative drew a direct line between Rees’s treatment and the “authoritarianism and corruption” they see permeating the executive branch.
“We cannot allow… the Trump regime to go without them being held accountable,” the lawmaker declared.
“Your Voice Matters”
Despite the trauma, Rees’s message to the American public was one of resilience and civic duty. When asked what he wanted the public to take away from his experience, he didn’t ask for anger or pity. He asked for engagement.
“Your voice matters. All of our voices matter,” Rees said. “Sharing that story… sending it, sharing all these stories, it matters.”
He emphasized that silence is complicity. In a system where a veteran can be stripped naked and held in a concrete box without charge, the only defense citizens have is their collective voice.
“It’s our voices, our stories that make changes,” he concluded.

The Fight for the Future
George Rees’s testimony is more than just a viral video; it is a stark warning. It illustrates a reality where the “protection” of the border has expanded into the interior of the country, sweeping up citizens and veterans in its dragnet.
“I still believe in the flag,” Rees affirmed in his closing remarks. “I still believe in the ideals that make this country worth fighting for. But belief alone is not enough. We need action.”
As Congress considers legislation to strip federal agents of their immunity and impose stricter oversight on ICE operations, Rees’s face—the face of a soldier betrayed by the state—will likely serve as the emblem of the debate. He is living proof that in the current climate, patriotism is no shield against the machinery of deportation and detention.
The question now remains: Will Congress act to fix the “crack in the law,” or will George Rees be just another name in a growing list of citizens who disappeared into the yellow room?