Nearly five decades after Greg Cope White first stepped off a bus at Marine Corps Recruit Depot Parris Island, South Carolina, Netflix is bringing his coming-of-age experience to screens worldwide.
His memoir, "The Pink Marine," is the inspiration behind a new television series premiering Thursday.
The series, “Boots,” stars Miles Heizer as Cameron Cope, a character inspired by White’s time as a gay teenager who found his footing inside one of the most unforgiving institutions in America. The project is backed by Sony Pictures Television, from creator and showrunner Andy Parker and co-showrunner Jennifer Cecil, and carries the late legendary screenwriter and combat veteran Norman Lear’s name as an executive producer.
For White, the journey to seeing his story on screen began long before Hollywood called. He hesitated for years to write his memoir because the media landscape prior to the turn of the new millennium offered few opportunities for LGBTQ stories.
“‘Will & Grace’ wasn’t on yet. Where was LGBTQ representation?” he recalled in an interview with Military Times.
What finally pushed him to finish and publish the book in 2015 were stories of bullied teenagers taking their own lives. White wanted something on the shelf that could signal to them, “You can hold on for another day.”
A true-to-life story with creative license
White enlisted in the U.S. Marine Corps in 1979 and served through 1985, an era when homosexuality was barred in the military. He learned to mask his reactions during screening questions and drill instructor tirades, knowing any visible flinch could end his career before it began.
He found refuge in friendship. White enlisted with his best friend, Dale, on the buddy system and slept across from him in the squad bay. Dale’s presence became a lifeline.
“That allyship is what I wish every little gay kid had,” White said.
His uniform and shaved head provided further relief. “Hopefully camouflaging my rainbow,” he explained, thankful for anything that allowed him to blend in while proving himself.
The Netflix adaptation of White’s book shifts the timeline into the 1990s and gives Heizer space to embody a character based on White, but not identical to him.
“The book is the book, and the show is the show. I want people to enjoy both,” White said.
He insisted on only a few pillars. The first was that the series include the friendship that helped him survive. Another was the Corps’ transformative role in his life, despite its policies at the time.
White, now a film and television writer and producer, even wrote one critical episode of “Boots” himself. A pivotal training moment that appears in both the memoir and the show was assigned to him for episode four.
He described watching it being filmed as overwhelming — a scene that left actors, directors and crew visibly moved. He would not spoil the details when discussing the episode with Military Times but called it “a pivotal moment in training that has carried me through life.”
Heizer’s portrayal impressed him, as well. White said the actor carried both fear and hunger in every scene, accurately portraying the tension of wanting to trust fellow recruits while knowing that disclosure of his sexual orientation could bring ruin.
“He is honoring me in every frame, but he is his own character,” said White.
Capturing the rhythm, fear, grit of recruit training
The path to take White’s story from book to screen began with producer Rachel Davidson, who first optioned “The Pink Marine” after working with White at Norman Lear’s company.
Davidson often overheard Lear refer to White as “Sergeant,” thinking it was just a playful nickname until Lear clarified White had actually earned the rank in the Corps. From there, Davidson pushed the story forward, and Lear soon became one of its biggest champions.
Lear, a legendary producer who had tackled taboo topics on television in the 1970s, recognized White’s story as part of the lineage he had long nurtured.
White wrote for Lear on other shows, and their friendship deepened. White still marvels that Lear was able to see cuts of the first three episodes before his death in December 2023.
“Everything that I do is to make him proud,” White said.
While making the series, authenticity mattered to White and the production.
Two Marine veterans, Megan Ferrell Burke and Nick Jones Jr., worked in the writers’ room. Military advisors fresh from active duty were embedded on set. The production rebuilt White’s squad bay to scale, down to working toilets.
Marines who have seen early cuts told White the depiction feels right. While minor creative liberties were necessary for story flow, he trusts that the show captures the rhythm, fear and grit of recruit training.
“You do not forget a thing about boot camp,” White said.
Vets find connection with White’s experience
Since the book’s release, White has heard from veterans who found resonance in his story. One military advisor even surprised him with an Amazon review of the memoir that “validated me beyond expectations,” White said.
He hopes the Netflix series brings that kind of connection to even more people, both inside and outside of the military.
“I believe that everyone willing to serve and qualified to serve in our all-volunteer military, in exchange for protecting our Constitution, should be celebrated and embraced,” White said.
For the civilian audience, he wants viewers to see the military as a microcosm of society, with familiar archetypes and relatable struggles, and he believes humor remains the most honest way to carry those truths.
If he could speak to his 18-year-old self stepping off the bus at Parris Island, White says he would first crack a joke: “Guess what, buddy. You are going to be stuck in boot camp for the next 47 years.” Then, he would reassure him to seek allies and trust that better days will come.
When the final cuts of “Boots” were locked, White felt relief, he said. The story no longer belonged to him alone.
On premiere night Thursday, he plans to sit at home with his partner of 17 years — the man who designed his book cover and website, and the one who encouraged him to write the memoir in the first place.
“He insisted, really,” White said with a laugh. “He told me, please stop telling me these stories, you need a new audience.”
White hopes viewers appreciate the hundreds of people who poured effort into adapting a single Marine’s story.
“Any light that shines on me has no value unless I can share it,” said White. “I want others lifted.”
