A family's anguish: How did Raheel Siddiqui lose his life at Marines boot camp?

Todd Spangler | Detroit Free Press

Over and over, Ghazala Siddiqui was told not to worry. By her son’s Marine recruiter. By her husband. By her daughter. By Raheel himself.

Yes, boot camp is tough, but he was ready, he told his mother. Everything would be fine.

“I say, ‘Raheel, one time more, you thinking about you going, 100% sure?’” she said, recalling a talk with her son in March 2016, the day before he left Taylor to go to boot camp at the Marines’ iconic training base at Parris Island, S.C. “My heart said don’t go. (But) he say, ‘No, mom, it’s OK. I made up my mind. I’m ready to go. Don’t worry about me.’”

Less than two weeks later, Raheel Siddiqui, 20, was dead. Authorities on Parris Island say the son of Pakistani immigrants leaped over a third-story barracks railing, killing himself. But allegations soon arose that he’d been hit and hazed by a drill instructor, and was slapped, perhaps repeatedly, just before his death. Despite that, a South Carolina coroner deemed it a suicide — an act his family insists that Raheel, as a faithful Muslim and a doting son, was morally and constitutionally incapable of making.

Whatever sent him over that railing, they say, it wasn’t to kill himself.

What you need to know about the death of Raheel Siddiqui The family of Marine recruit Raheel Siddiqui speaks out after Siddiqui's death on Parris Island during training. The cause of his death was deemed suicide, but the family and Rep. Debbie Dingell disagree. By Kimberly P. Mitchell, DFP.

More: 20 Marines face discipline after death of Muslim recruit from Taylor

More: Parris Island drill instructors face scrutiny after recruit's death

More: Did hazing or suicide lead to death of Muslim Marine recruit?

“My son is never doing suicide,” said Ghazala, who moved to the U.S. in the 1990s. “He knows (his) mom no live without (him), not one minute, one day. … I lost everything.”

Seventeen months after Siddiqui's death on March 18, 2016, the circumstances of what happened remain murky — and may never be fully addressed by the Marines, the Free Press has learned.

In a ruling the Marines have refused to release a record of a military judge has ordered the manner of Siddiqui’s death not be discussed at the October court-martial of his drill instructor, Gunnery Sgt. Joseph Felix, who is charged with cruelty and maltreatment and not the potentially more serious assault charge an earlier investigation recommended and the Siddiqui family wanted.

The court ruled that discussing the circumstances of Raheel's death could prejudice a jury against Felix, even though that earlier investigation said his acts were “likely the impetus” for Raheel leaping over the stairwell.

In fact, the only mention of Siddiqui's death being allowed at trial is limited to an allegation of obstruction against Felix, not culpability for Siddiqui's death. Officials with the Marines' Training and Education Command (TECOM) overseeing the case have so far declined to elaborate on the judge's order or the charges other than to say prosecutors believe they "most accurately address the alleged misconduct."

For Siddiqui’s family, the silence has been deafening.

Speaking to the Free Press in one of the few interviews they’ve granted, the family and their lawyer, Shiraz Khan, say they are largely being kept in the dark. The Marines at first publicly mourned Raheel’s death and soon issued reports that discussed potential charges and military code violations against more than a half-dozen people in connection with his death, but developments have slowed to a crawl, the family says.

Questions tear at them: Why did Raheel, when his body was returned to Michigan, look like something had been wrapped around his neck? Why did it take more than an hour to get him to a hospital? Why, if he had threatened suicide some days before — a threat the Marines determined wasn't genuine as he quickly recanted and said he only made it because he didn't want to be hit anymore — wasn't more done to protect him?

They may have to go unanswered.

Felix’s court-martial, already delayed once, is the only prosecution linked to Raheel’s death that has been scheduled. Another against a lieutenant colonel who kept Felix on as drill instructor despite an investigation into an earlier hazing allegation is pending.

But no other charges have been brought in connection with Siddiqui's death.

“What the family and I want is to get those people (charged) into court right away … This has been going on forever,” said Khan, who is based in Southfield. “The family wants to know what were the last moments of this young man and we can’t even get that.”

"If you can't mention the circumstances and the facts and the evidence that talk about what led to the cause of his death, what is this case about?" he said.

Siddiqui’s family — his mother, Ghazala, his father, Masood and his sister, Sidra — say that lost in all the reports, charges and media stories is what really happened to their son and brother, what led him over that railing just 11 days into boot camp and less than a week after actual training had begun.

They say they believe the Marines are obscuring what really happened.

“I know my brother didn’t kill himself,” said Sidra, 18. “They killed him.”

Tales of beating and heads slammed into walls

A year ago, the Marines issued a 133-page report on Siddiqui’s death that led to 20 personnel suspensions, inquiries and policy changes to crack down on what were considered widespread allegations of hazing recruits. In Siddiqui's case, his drill instructor was alleged to have called him “terrorist” and hit him.

But there were other cases, too.

Recruits came forward and told stories of beatings and being choked, of heads slammed into walls or threats to their lives. Felix was alleged to have ordered another Muslim recruit into a dryer the year before Siddiqui’s death and was still under investigation for that when Siddiqui died.

A year ago, Marine Corps Commandant Gen. Robert Neller ordered changes at Parris Island, saying, “We mourn the loss of Recruit Siddiqui and we will take every step necessary to prevent tragic events like this from happening again." Then-President Barack Obama was made aware of the situation, with press secretary Josh Earnest calling the events on Parris Island “disturbing.”

But questions continued to pile up at the legendary boot camp: Since Siddiqui's death, another Muslim recruit from Sterling Heights went into a coma after falling two stories from the base receiving center last Oct. 28. Eventually, he was transferred to a long-term care facility in Michigan; his family couldn't be reached by the Free Press. Meanwhile, another recruit in his first few days of processing at the base was injured in a fall this summer, though the injuries are not considered life-threatening.

This past spring, the Washington Post reported on dozens of cases of hazing and abuse against recruits in recent years, including one in which a recruit needed skin grafts after being forced to do unauthorized exercises on a floor covered in bleach.

They have been “making Marines” on the humid, marshy island about an hour south of Charleston on the South Carolina coast since 1915, with some 19,000 recruits being trained there by 550 drill instructors each year.

But the base is no stranger to controversy. With a culture portrayed by Hollywood as rugged, physically demanding and often violent, Parris Island has been the subject of numerous incidents before, including one in the 1950s in which a drill instructor marched his platoon out into a swampy area in the night and six recruits drowned. Twenty years later, a recruit died after being beaten with training sticks.

Each brought changes. More oversight. Tougher rules.

And always another incident.

From the beginning, the Marines have accepted the finding of suicide in Siddiqui's death. The local coroner has declined overtures from the family and others, including U.S. Rep. Debbie Dingell, D-Dearborn, to change the cause of death.

They argue a cause of “undetermined” is more appropriate, since no one knows whether Siddiqui meant to kill himself or may have been trying to escape an untenable situation. Dingell sent the coroner a letter noting the “pattern of maltreatment” uncovered at Parris Island “gives more credence to the claims that his death was the result of abuse."

More: Dingell challenges ruling of Taylor Marine Raheel Siddiqui's suicide

But the coroner, J. Edward Allen, told the Free Press the cause of death remains suicide.

Family's faith in America shaken

Ghazala seldom leaves the house. It’s too hard to face the stares, the questions asked or unasked by old friends in southeast Michigan’s large Muslim community.

Why did he join the Marines? Why did he kill himself? In Islam, suicide is a mortal sin.

The family has also left their house in Taylor. Too many memories, says Ghazala, who sleeps only an hour or two a night.

“My son very special and very smart, intelligent. … I trust this group, this is why I send my son,” she weeps. Had she known about the dryer incident, the other reports of hazing, “I never send my son.”

She and her husband’s faith in America has been shaken, too.

“He trust this country. He (was) born here and he want to serve this country,” said Ghazala. “That’s why he go over there.”

The Siddiquis also feel betrayed by the coverage of Raheel’s death, making them reluctant to talk to reporters. So are others who knew him — calls to his counselors at Truman High School go unanswered; a friend who worked with him at Home Depot and got a tattoo in his honor refuses to speak, despite talking to the media in the past.

The Siddiquis say the media has portrayed Raheel as weak or overwhelmed heading into boot camp, a depiction they say is untrue.

They say Raheel knew exactly what he was getting into: A strong student, a valedictorian of his senior class, he held down a job at Home Depot. He trained hard and regularly leading up to his departure for boot camp — learning to swim, improving his running speed, practicing with other recruits and his recruiter on weekends.

He passed a psychological exam, never suffered from depression and hadn’t shown suicidal tendencies, his family said. He wasn’t soft or unprepared.

“He had a very strong mind, he’s … very healthful, not weak, anything,” said his father, Masood, who works the production line at an automotive supplier.

Making him seem weak or unprepared, the family and their lawyer argue, shifts blame away from where it belongs: with the Marines.

Over the months, Khan has compiled autopsy photos, statements from friends and family, even charts in Raheel’s own hand, showing how he carefully planned his future — from boot camp on. He hoped to be an FBI agent someday.



“This whole rhetoric that maybe he couldn’t take it or that he was weak is garbage,” Khan said.

'He verry happy for his life'

The camp’s legendary reputation for brutality and toughness, and Siddiqui's own suicide threat, made just days into boot camp and before his formal training had begun, have fueled the portrayals of him as unprepared for Parris Island.

But the base’s own rules and orders make it clear: hitting a recruit, abusing a recruit — laying hands on him other than to correct a stance or posture — is not allowed. If a recruit is belligerent or unmotivated, there are by-the-book ways to get him out.

According to the one Marine investigation into Siddiqui's death made public in a redacted version last September, Felix slapped him the morning he died after forcing Siddiqui to run repeated sprints in the barracks, despite his request to go to sick bay for a sore, bleeding throat.

It was after that alleged slap — loud enough that it was heard across the barracks — that Siddiqui ran out and leaped over the railing, his foot catching it as he went, the investigation said.

TECOM relied on that and other, later investigations in reaching its conclusions about what charges should be filed in Siddiqui's death. But those other investigations have never been made public or explained in any detail.

As for the earlier suicide threat, it was quickly recanted. The Marines noted in that first report that their own mental health experts dismissed it as not being serious.

Instead, mental health experts on Parris Island who spoke to Siddiqui said many recruits believe incorrectly that such a threat may get them out of boot camp easily. The investigation report said Siddiqui told officials he only made the threat because he didn’t want to be hit anymore, raising questions about his treatment during processing and immediately upon joining his platoon.

The report said Siddiqui was told that making such a threat could mean being charged with fraudulent enlistment, a charge that — on paper at least — could land him in the brig and result in a less-than-honorable discharge, a stain that could hurt his future job prospects and end any hope of someday joining the FBI.

Siddiqui said he wanted to continue training and was cycled back with his platoon, a mental health assessment finding no reason for follow up. The claim of being hit, the report said, was largely ignored.

His family doesn’t know what happened before or after that, only that whatever sent him over that third-story railing five days later wasn’t weakness or unpreparedness.

“Everything he committed to, he did it,” said his sister. “He would not end his life like that. He was not a quitter. And the threat he did give to quit, they should have let him come back. He only said it to come back, if he had said it.”

The Marines refused a request from the Free Press to talk to Raheel’s recruiter, who is no longer in Michigan, about his fitness as he prepared for boot camp.

“He (saw) something wrong happening, so he wanted to quit. … they should have sent him back,” his mother said.

“He very happy for his life. He had a bright future.”

Silence from the Marines

It’s almost impossible to get any information about the legal case swirling around Siddiqui’s death from the Marine Corps.

Routine motions and judicial orders — made and ruled upon in open court at Camp Lejeune in North Carolina, where Felix’s court-martial will be held — are then withheld from public view, no record of them made available to the media or the family.

The Marines refuse to release them, saying to do so could influence the court-martial.

One military lawyer who is familiar with the case called it “absolutely” not the standard way of handling legal matters. A Free Press request for the documents under the Freedom of Information Act was denied.

Felix is set to go to court-martial Oct. 30. It will likely last two weeks, with 75-100 potential witnesses being called.

“What I can tell you is that Gunnery Sgt. Felix has provided notice that he is pleading not guilty to all charges,” said his defense lawyer, Lt. Cmdr. Clay Bridges. “We’re attacking all these charges head-on,” he added, calling Felix “a passionate drill instructor who trained recruits with intensity and discipline.”

He said the facts surrounding Siddiqui’s death speak for themselves: "Anytime a Marine or a recruit loses his life, it is a tragedy, but facts are facts."

The family, however, says there’s more to it. They say photos of Raheel’s body suggest he had something wrapped around his neck, along with bruises and injuries they say are inconsistent with a fall.

Khan declined to show the Free Press the photos but said the family is considering legal options, regardless of what happens to Felix or anyone else who may be charged. It may be their only way to find out what happened to Raheel, he said.

To date, only one other person has been charged — Lt. Col. Joshua Kissoon, who faces court-martial on charges related to allowing Felix to serve as a drill instructor while under investigation for the incident involving the dryer. The date for his military trial has not yet been set.

Khan and the family have also openly wondered why Felix wasn’t charged with assault, as the initial investigation recommended. TECOM won’t answer the question, nor has it released the charging sheet detailing the rationale behind the charges against Felix.

“No one wants to take responsibility for this,” said Dingell, who has demanded the Marines take action since Siddiqui’s death. She called it a “senseless, outrageous, never-should-have-happened situation.”

Any civil action the Siddiqui family takes has a high hurdle. Under what’s known as the Feres doctrine, the Supreme Court decades ago barred suits for injuries to active-duty military personnel related to their service. Getting around it may be virtually impossible.

“Feres blocks any action against the federal government (in these sort of cases),” said Daniel Conway, a military law expert in New Hampshire. Eugene Fidell, a military law expert at the Yale Law School, added, “I don’t think these people have a (legal) remedy” short of getting Congress to change the law.

Khan won’t discuss his strategy but believes he has options.

“We’re trying to get justice for this young man,” he said. “The medical evidence, the scars on the body, tell a very different story (from the one the Marines are telling).”

A son destined for great things

As soon as her son left Michigan, Ghazala sensed there was something wrong.

It may have been the call, the one call home Marine recruits get as they are hustled off the bus at night on Parris Island. When it came, she heard nothing but grunting and yelling — no sound she recognized as Raheel.

The next day, she went to the recruiter, and he assured her: Raheel was on the base. Everything was OK.

But she couldn’t sleep. Deep down, in her heart, she was worried. She contacted the recruiter again and was told he was fine. Her husband told her not to worry. Her daughter told her the same.

She listened and attributed it to nerves, a mother’s worry.

Then came the news, at 7 p.m. on Friday, March 18, that her son was dead.

Two military officers were at her door. Ghazala insisted they were wrong, but they repeated the words. She fainted and was taken to the hospital.

The next day, the family learned he’d leaped over a railing, and an autopsy report concluded Raheel’s death was a suicide.

Ghazala is consumed by thoughts and questions: Why wasn't she told about the suicide threat? After his fall, how could it take an hour to drive Raheel to the nearest hospital and an hour more — 2 1/2hours after his fall — to transport him to a better-equipped hospital in Charleston, S.C.?

How could the Marines allow this to happen to her son?

Sidra, Raheel’s sister, speaks of indifference from the Marines, the lack of condolences from the recruiter, and what she feels is an obfuscation of the facts.

“Every morning at school I had to stand up … and put my hand on my chest and say the Pledge of Allegiance, and I don’t like to do it because honestly: Why should I if my brother didn’t get justice yet?” she asked. “The Pledge of Allegiance says liberty and justice for all. My brother didn’t get justice yet and that’s what I want for him."

Raheel’s mother fussed with her hands as her daughter spoke. Her English isn’t perfect and her voice is often soft, but it rises, her hands patting firmly at a table, when she wants to get a point across.

A point about her son.

Raheel’s father remembers him as a boy, when he’d help mow the lawn. Sidra recounts a necklace he bought for her birthday and how he laid clues all around the house. His mother recalls a boy who figured out how to jump out of his crib almost as soon as she put him in it and how fast he was at picking up things by kindergarten.

She contends he was destined for great things.

Yes, she has heard about all the changes the Marines say they have made at Parris Island, the changes meant to keep this — whatever happened — from happening again.

“Change, not change, I don’t care now,” she said. “Look at my son, I lose my son. My son no coming back so — my son not coming back.”

Contact Todd Spangler: tspangler@freepress.com, Follow him on Twitter at @tsspangler.

About the Siddiqui Case

On March 18, 2016, Raheel Siddiqui, 20, leaped over a third-story railing to his death at the Marines' Parris Island training camp, in what was ruled a suicide. In the months that followed, a Marine investigation alleged that the Muslim recruit from Taylor faced physical and emotional abuse and was called a "terrorist" by his drill instructor.

That initial investigation suggested a "culture of hazing" at the South Carolina base, implicating several other personnel, including officers.

In Siddiqui's case, the report recommended charges of failure to obey orders; cruelty and maltreatment, and assault against his drill instructor, Gunnery Sgt. Joseph Felix. But when charges were formally brought against Felix, the assault charge was left off that list.

Felix's case, scheduled to begin Oct. 30 in Camp Lejeune, N.C., is the only one related to Siddiqui's death with a court-martial date set, though the battalion commander, Lt. Col. Joshua Kissoon, is also expected to face charges related to allowing Felix to serve as the instructor for his platoon.