“Stories of Trust” The Day I Was Ordered to Abandon Marines — And Why I Didn’t

I was a young Corporal at 29 Palms preparing for deployment when my Gunnery Sergeant pulled me aside and gave me an assignment.

About a dozen Marines in our battalion hadn’t passed a Physical Fitness Test in years. The PFT was coming in about a month. My job — as the only Marine in the battalion with a perfect PFT score — was simple.

“Run their d*cks into the dirt,” I was ordered. “There’s no way they’re going to pass anyway. Just run them.”

I said “Eye Gunny.” But knew I wasn’t going to abandon Marines like that. I took a completely different path.

Here was a dozen men that everyone — including their superiors — had written off. A month to a PFT nobody believed they could pass. And an order to simply exhaust them rather than prepare them.

I already knew that every single one of them could pass. I just had to make them believe it.

The first thing I did was go with them to the chow hall. I had each Marine eat the same thing that I ate. I even finished with some dessert sometimes. Overall poor nutrition wasn’t just affecting their waistlines — it was affecting their energy, their recovery, and their ability to train effectively. I helped them make smarter choices. Nothing complicated. Just better.

The second thing I addressed was sleep. These Marines would stay up late looking for an open bar or cabaret — but I made it clear that for this month that was off the table. Quality sleep wasn’t optional. It was part of the training. Rest was as important as the work itself.

Then I ran them. I ran them hard. Because the work still had to be done.

But I also gave them rest. Easy runs. Stretching sessions. Recovery built deliberately into the schedule — because I understood even then that the body adapts during rest, not during the work itself.

As the PFT approached I tapered their training, even taking off completely the day before with just stretching — and stressed eating right and sleeping right. The final couple of days was almost all mental empowerment. I had to make sure they knew they could do this. I had to make sure they believed it.

On the day of the PFT I was right there with them — encouraging them through the sit-ups, cheering them through the chin-ups. And when the three mile run came — I ran alongside the slowest ones. Every step. Every struggle. Every moment when quitting would have been easier than continuing.

I encouraged them to finish hard.

Every single Marine that I was told would fail passed that PFT.

Not most of them. Not the ones who were closest to the standard. Every. Single. One.

My superiors were flabbergasted.

I wasn’t.

I knew they could do it the moment I met them.

Here’s what that month at 29 Palms taught me — and what I’ve carried with me through every training run, every race, every project, and every challenge since:

It was never about their bodies. Their bodies were capable. It was about nutrition, recovery, sleep, smart progressive training, and most importantly — belief.

The belief that they could do it.

Nobody had given them that before. That was the missing ingredient. Not more miles. Not more punishment. Just someone who genuinely believed they were capable — and made sure they believed it too.

I’ve never forgotten those twelve Marines. And I think about them every time someone tells me they can’t do something.

They can. They just haven’t found it yet.

None of this is special. And that’s exactly why it is.