Hazing News

The Death of a Marine Muslim in Boot Camp Probed by New York Times

Here is the link to NY Times


In his 1984 memoir, ‘‘First to Fight,’’ the esteemed Marine brigadier general Victor Krulak, known as Brute, spoke of the ‘‘almost mystical alchemy’’ that happens during boot camp, whose shared hardships he saw as ‘‘the genesis of the enduring sense of brotherhood that characterizes the corps.’’ But the lines between hard training and abuse can blur. Like every other branch of the military, the Marine Corps has official strictures against hazing, which it defines as any unauthorized verbal or physical conduct of a ‘‘cruel, abusive, humiliating, oppressive, demeaning or harmful’’ nature. The Marines have nonetheless investigated hundreds of hazing allegations in the past five years alone. (The particulars of the hazing incidents in this article were taken largely from redacted reports prepared by the Marines in the course of their investigations. Details like names and dialogue were provided by eyewitnesses and other recruits.) ‘‘There is a natural tension between an organization that trains people for lethality and the larger culture,’’ a Marine reserve officer told me. ‘‘Inside the culture, you’re supposed to be able to take a punch and give a punch and crush a skull. Outside, this is not something that’s valued.’’

The bedrock of Marine tradition is a long-ago era when buff, male and mostly white combat Marines launched amphibious early-morning assaults on enemy beaches armed with M1 rifles and Ka-Bar knives. Today’s far less homogeneous troops roll into battle in armored Humvees or tanks, with sophisticated high-powered weaponry and thermal-imaging goggles. Many never leave their base at all, waging war remotely while operating a joystick or writing code. In many ways, the Marines have become indistinguishable from the Army.

Adapting to these harsh truths hasn’t been easy for the corps, whose current and former officials, with some exceptions, were reluctant to speak openly about these challenges except on condition of anonymity. ‘‘The Marines have a purpose, and it’s a militant purpose,’’ one senior officer says. ‘‘We are an organization grounded on the physical, but wars are not as physical anymore. The character of war has evolved a lot from the early 20th century. The question is: Has our force evolved? I don’t think it has.’’

2) Second excerpt

Across Parris Island, commanders of the different training battalions were contending with hazing allegations ranging from abusive language to assault. In an internal memo from the spring of 2015, the commander of Parris Island’s First Recruit Training Battalion noted that ‘‘staying on top of D.I. hazing/misconduct’’ was his biggest challenge. ‘‘It’s never-ending,’’ he wrote. This was even more pronounced in the Third Recruit Training Battalion, which, as one commander wrote, attracted ‘‘Type-A’’ personalities who may not ‘‘rebound from past mistakes.’’

Isolated in a remote corner of the depot, the Third had long been a rogue fief on Parris Island, its silent pact with Marine officialdom being that it would create the most disciplined recruits but would do so in its own way. It had operated in this manner for more than 60 years, and even in the era of values-based training, the Third was virtually unchanged.

In 1998, a Navy chaplain, Thomas Creely, now retired, came to Parris Island to serve as chaplain for the recruit training regiment and noticed a particularly stark pattern of abuse in the Third. ‘‘For example,’’ he later wrote in a paper presented to the International Society for Military Ethics, ‘‘after lunch recruits were made to drink water until they vomited. Then they were made to do push-ups in their own vomit.’’ Creely worked with the command until 2003 to try to eradicate the problem, but the ‘‘blind loyalty of drill instructors,’’ who remained silent in the face of abuse, stood in the way. ‘‘What you have in the Third Battalion is a cycle of abuse,’’ Creely told me recently. ‘‘And until that cycle is broken, it doesn’t matter how much education you do.’’

Lt. Col. Joshua Kissoon, who commanded the Third Battalion while Germano was on the base, was a by-the-book Marine who publicly took a hard stance against hazing. Shortly after assuming command, he instituted a zero-tolerance policy on the touching of recruits by their D.I.s and put his staff on warning: Any violation of the rules would be investigated. Between 2013 and 2015, 221 preliminary hazing investigations were conducted across the depot’s four battalions; 69 of those were from the Third, and more were punished from that battalion than any other. This included three D.I.s who were recommended for courts-martial after an investigation first reported by Wade Livingston at The Beaufort Gazette in February 2015 revealed a ‘‘staggering level of misconduct and recruit abuse,’’ with recruits reporting that they were choked, kicked and punched in the face, and that they had their heads slammed against walls.

Some junior officers felt the D.I.s were being punished unfairly, though they themselves were never in the squad bays. (One later said his presence in the barracks ‘‘undermines’’ the drill instructors.) When Colonel Kissoon received the results of his own Command Climate Survey in April 2015, they were not much better than Germano’s. That spring, Kissoon began to take a softer line in some cases, according to Marines in the battalion. On his desktop, his subordinates later said, he kept a redacted copy of the command investigation that led to Germano’s firing. ‘‘This could happen to me,’’ he told colleagues.

It was into this environment of ‘‘inconsistent decision making,’’ as some of Kissoon’s officers put it, that a new group of Third Batallion recruits landed in April 2015. Most were straight out of high school. A few had been college students. Two had master’s degrees. Another had been living in his car. All now learned their survival depended on how they handled the cognitive dissonance between what they learned as official Marine Corps policy and how that policy was systematically ignored.

Jake Weaver, then 19, a new member of Platoon 3054, Lima Company, recalls that when he met his D.I.s, they gave him and his fellow recruits a choice. ‘‘You want to be trained like Marines, right? Not like crappy ‘individual’ Marines?’’

Continue reading the main story

Moderator:  This is an outstanding investigation. And equally wrenching. Hank Nuwer

By Hank Nuwer

Journalist Hank Nuwer is the Alaska author of Hazing: Destroying Young Lives; Broken Pledges: The Deadly Rite of Hazing, High School Hazing, Wrongs of Passage and The Hazing Reader. In April of 2024, the Alaska Press Club awarded him first place in the Best Columnist division and Best Humorist, second place.

He has written articles or columns on hazing for the Sunday Times of India, Toronto Globe & Mail, Harper's Magazine, Orlando Sentinel, The Chronicle of Higher Education and the New York Times Sunday Magazine. His current book is Hazing: Destroying Young Lives from Indiana University Press. He is married to Malgorzata Wroblewska Nuwer of Warsaw, Poland and Fairbanks, Alaska. Nuwer is a former columnist for the Greenville (Ohio)Early Bird and former managing editor of the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner in Alaska.
Nuwer was named the Ohio Society of Professional Journalists columnist of the year in 2021 for his “After Darke” column in the Early Bird. He also won third place for the column in 2022 from the Indiana chapter of the Society of Professional Journalists. He and his wife Gosia, recently of Union City, Ind., have owned 20 acres in Alaska for many years. “The move is a sort-of coming home for us,” said Nuwer. As a journalist, he’s written about the Alaskan Iditarod sled-dog race and other Alaska topics. Read his musings in his blog at Real Alaska Daily-- and in his weekly column "Far from Randolph" in the Winchester Star-Gazette of Randolph County, Indiana.

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