Why Holding the Line Matters: What a Drunk Marine Taught Me About Leadership and Accountability
Col. Bill Vivian (USMC, Ret.)
Editor’s Note: This article was originally published by Tribe and Trust Leadership Academy. Tribe and Trust provides leadership development and training to corporations and organizations. The CxFile appreciates the opportunity to re-publish this article.
What do you do when the right decision feels like the hardest one—especially when someone powerful is pushing back?
Leaders often struggle to make tough disciplinary decisions, even when the facts seem straightforward. I saw this firsthand during my time in the Marine Corps. It gets even harder when the person in question is talented, well-liked, or has someone influential in their corner.
Back in September 2010, shortly after I took command of 2d Battalion, 4th Marines, we sent an advanced party—a group of about 30 Marines—from Camp Pendleton to the training base in 29 Palms, California. Their job was to set the stage for a large-scale exercise, where we’d bring about 500 more Marines in shortly after. The group did excellent work and finished ahead of schedule.
Since it was Labor Day weekend, the officers in charge took them to a free concert being held on base. They gave clear instructions: stay out of trouble and be on time for the bus back to lodging.
One young Marine decided to ignore those instructions in spectacular fashion.
He got wildly drunk, picked a fight with the military police at the event, and then picked another fight with the NCOs who tried to bring him back to the barracks. He was just 19 years old, and it was clear he had a serious problem with alcohol.
A short time later, he appeared before me for non-judicial punishment (NJP)—an administrative proceeding commanding officers can use to address misconduct. With prior alcohol-related incidents on record, we implemented NJP penalties, got him the in-patient help he needed, and made the tough but necessary call to begin separation proceedings—knowing that our responsibility was to both the individual and the organization.
That’s when things got complicated.
His father, a senior chief petty officer in the Navy, started calling the battalion repeatedly, trying to intercede. He knew his son was about to be removed from the Marine Corps and was understandably upset. Our battalion sergeant major handled the situation with grace and professionalism, and we held the line on our decision.
Then, right before the new year, the young Marine asked to meet with me. He had just completed his rehabilitation and was about a week away from leaving the service. Honestly, I wasn’t looking forward to the conversation. I expected complaints or a last-minute plea to stay—or more calls from his dad.
Instead, he thanked me.
He told me he had been drinking since he was 14, and that he desperately needed both the rehab and the accountability. He said this experience was the wake-up call he needed—a chance to reset his life. I was stunned. And deeply grateful. I wished him well, and we parted ways.
Afterward, I found myself reflecting. Even though this case seemed cut and dry, why were we able to make the right call, and stick to it—especially with pressure from someone in a position of power? And why did the decision seem to genuinely help the individual in the end?
Getting thanked after disciplining someone is rare. But that’s what makes this a meaningful case study. It gave me clarity on a few leadership truths I now carry with me—and pass on to others:
1. “The unit gets a vote.”
That phrase became a regular part of my leadership vocabulary. In this case, I had to keep faith with the Marines who followed orders and did the right thing. Discipline isn’t a binary transaction—it’s systemic. Others are watching. How you respond shapes the culture of your entire team.
2. You are always teaching.
Whether you realize it or not, your actions show the next generation of leaders how to handle tough situations. I had learned a lot from watching my seniors, and now it was my turn to lead by example.
3. Practice discipline through self-awareness.
Develop the habit of making expectations crystal clear. When small deviations happen, address them early. Consciously thinking through these things in your everyday leadership prepares you to make the right call when the stakes are high.
Leadership isn’t always medals, parades, and pretty speeches. Sometimes, it’s sitting across the table from a young Marine who made a mistake—and having the courage to do what’s right, even when it’s hard.
Colonel Bill Vivian (USMC, Ret.) previously served as the commanding officer of 2d Battalion, Fourth Marines and 7th Marine Regiment. He can be reached at bill@freestonesolutionsgroup.com.
Dear Colonel Bill, I was in complete agreement with your article and thought the readers may like to hear another example from after I left the military , in the same vein. I took over as President of a manufacturing company in Canada after we acquired it, and culturally it was very different from a military unit.
But it seemed to me good leadership practice that making a statement of my and 'our ethos' was a pretty fundamental first step, so I laid down 4 rules: treat everyone as you would want to be treat, don't come to work if you are drunk or under the influence fro safety reasons, always be honest (no bullshit!) even if it was an uncomfortable statement and do not steal from the company or your colleagues. I stated that their would be zero tolerance on these principles, for the good of all.
After a couple of years there was only 1 instance of theft, and we fired the guy, even though it was a small item, and then came the test case. The son in law of one of my very best supervisors was caught smoking weed late on the night shift.
I fired him.
About 6 months later he came to see me at the factory and thanked me personally , the shock had made him confront a larger drug problem, and had apparently also saved his marriage and family. A year after that we rehired him, and he became an exemplary employee.
Set standards, but be human, and the collective good outweighs the individual.