'The Pink Marine' by Greg Cope White
- Reed
- Oct 30
- 2 min read
Author: Greg Cope White
Rating: B+
Vibe: Boot camp memoir with observational humor, closet terror, and unexpected self-discovery
When Greg Cope White's straight best friend Dale tells him he's spending the summer at Marine Corps boot camp, Greg hears "summer" and "camp." So naturally, he signs up too. Never mind that he's underweight, out of shape, and gay—which in 1979 was not just frowned upon in the military, but illegal. What follows is thirteen weeks at Parris Island, where Greg is stripped down, rebuilt, and forced to reckon with what he's actually capable of. The Pink Marine is a coming-of-age memoir that's as funny as it is honest, and it's been adapted into Netflix's Boots.
I really enjoyed this book. Greg is immensely likable—witty, self-deprecating, and fully dimensional in a way that makes you want to go through boot camp with him. His humor is observational and a little absurd, the kind that comes from a sharp mind trying to survive an impossible situation. He's not cracking jokes to avoid vulnerability; he's cracking jokes because that's how he processes the fear. And there's plenty of fear—the constant threat of being discovered, the physical brutality of training, the psychological warfare of drill instructors who seem designed to break you. But White never lets the humor flatten the stakes. You feel the danger.
The book's focus on boot camp—just those thirteen weeks, not the six years he served—was an interesting choice. The intensity of that crucible is the story. Everything Greg learns about himself, everything he discovers he's capable of, happens in that compressed window. And watching him realize he's stronger, braver, and more resilient than he ever imagined is the heart of the book. It's a universal underdog story—straight folks could (and should) read this—but it's also unmistakably gay. The experience of hiding, of calculating every word and gesture, of finding belonging while keeping part of yourself locked away—that's something a lot of us know too well.
The relationships with his fellow Marines are strong, especially with Dale. There's something both heartbreaking and hopeful about that dynamic—Greg finding brotherhood in a place that would reject him if they knew the truth. The book doesn't shy away from that paradox. It sits with it. And for me, that tension—belonging versus hiding—felt resolved in a way that rang true. It's the reality many gay people have faced: you stay closeted until it's safe. You take what you can get. You survive.
If I'm being honest, memoirs aren't always my first pick. But I'm glad I read it. White's voice is clear, his insights are sharp, and his story is one that resonates whether you're a young person struggling with self-confidence, a closeted kid trying to figure out where you fit, or just someone who's ever doubted what they were capable of.
The Pink Marine is funny, human, and powerful. It's a book about becoming—becoming a Marine, becoming confident, becoming yourself. And it does all of that without flinching from the truth of what it cost to get there.
