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Nick Palmisciano reflects on his journey from Army infantry officer to marketing guru.

When Nick Palmisciano’s boss at John Deere offered him a major promotion, he pivoted instead of jumping at it. The West Point graduate and former infantry officer turned down the job on the spot – not because the money wasn’t good, but because it was too good.

“It was a life-changing promotion, and I made the decision that I didn’t want that, because it was going to be so much money that I was never going to be able to get away from it,” says Palmisciano, now CEO of
Diesel Jack Media and a member of American Legion Post 6 in Chapel Hill, N.C. “I was truly unhappy for the first time in my life.”

That moment of clarity led him to an entrepreneurial journey that has touched thousands of veterans’ lives, from Palmisciano creating the military lifestyle brand to helping evacuate 12,000 refugees from Afghanistan and, eventually, partnering with 91Ӱ���ƽ�� in its mission to reduce veteran suicide. (Full disclosure: produces marketing materials as a contractor with the Legion.)

Outside his Diesel Jack Media office sits Palmisciano’s well-used, 12-year-old Jeep. Inside, visitors are greeted with a framed image of Diesel, his late Jake Russell terrier and company namesake. Palmisciano, clad in his trademark black T-shirt and blue jeans, guides a team driven to support veterans.

From wrestling to West Point Growing up in Somerset, Mass., as the son of an Italian immigrant was hard for Palmisciano. “The kids were like, ‘I heard you can speak Italian. Say something.’ I did, and they beat the crap out of me,” he says. “That went on for a couple of years, which led me to want to learn how to fight.”

That desire led to judo, then wrestling – a sport that would shape his character and career trajectory. The grit required to be a competitive wrestler, which included running up to 21 miles a day while cutting weight, prepared him for the rigors of military service.

“By the end of my senior year, I could not cut weight anymore,” he says. “That’s how focused I was on trying to win a state championship. Where else was I going to find somebody who demanded that of me?”

The answer came when his father, an Air Force Vietnam veteran, encouraged him to visit West Point. While other schools promised to make him “the best,” this one offered something different – a challenge so demanding that an upperclassman warned him, “Only come here if you want to serve your country and you’re doing it for yourself. If you’re not doing it for yourself and you’re not doing it for service, you’re going to fail, because this place is too hard.”

That’s all he needed to hear. “‘Nothing’s too hard. I’m a wrestler,’” he remembers thinking. “’That’s where I want to be.’”

Learning to lead After graduating from West Point in 1998, Palmisciano served six years as an infantry officer, including a deployment to Kosovo. The experience taught him lessons that have proven invaluable in entrepreneurship.

“There isn’t a single thing I did there, other than patrol and clear a building, that I had trained for,” he says. “Nobody taught me how to fix a roof. Nobody taught me how to bring a factory back online. Nobody taught me how to jerry-rig electrical so the local Serbs could have a wedding with music.”

As a 23-year-old lieutenant, Palmisciano was responsible for solving problems with no backstop, no excuses. “The problems come, and you have to still provide a result,” he says. “That’s entrepreneurship.”

Mike Schlitz met Palmisciano in 2002, when both were cadre at Ranger School in Fort Benning, Ga. “He always led by example,” Schlitz says. “Oftentimes West Point officers don’t really connect with enlisted people. But Nick was always very open, very approachable, always willing to lend some advice.”

While deployed to Iraq in 2007, Schlitz was severely wounded by an IED. His driver, gunner and medic were killed. Schlitz suffered burns to 85% of his body, and lost both hands and vision in his left eye.

One way Palmisciano cares for his brother and sister veterans is through frequent buddy checks. He’ll check in often, asking how they’re doing and offering any assistance he can provide. “I just think he’s incredibly generous,” Schlitz says. “He’s generous with his time, his energy, and he’s willing to help anybody – especially if it’s the veteran community.”

Building Ranger Up After leaving active duty, Palmisciano earned his MBA from Duke University and landed a job at John Deere. Despite the company’s prestige, he felt somewhat stifled in corporate life.
One incident, in particular, brought that realization. He sent a few John Deere toys to David Letterman, who featured them on his late-night show. While the exposure was valuable, Palmisciano’s failure to seek permission raised eyebrows.

“It was like, ‘Hey, good initiative, bad judgment,’” he says. “This was a win. If I had asked if I could do this, the answer probably would have been no. I’m never going to be happy in this environment.”

Even so, the seeds of entrepreneurship were planted while Palmisciano was still at his corporate job. He volunteered to teach Duke ROTC cadets, getting up at 5 a.m. to drive to campus before work.

“At some point, the kids were like, ‘I really wish we had T-shirts we could wear with some pride, but everything out there right now is skulls, snakes and death from above,’” he recalls. He went to a craft store, bought white T-shirts and created humorous designs. The cadets’ positive response kick-started Palmisciano’s entrepreneurial journey.

That hobby business became Ranger Up, which grew into an eight-figure company. Along the way, Palmisciano and his team made “Range 15,” the first independent film to reach No. 1 on Amazon and No. 2 on iTunes.

“I think the phrase ‘accidental entrepreneur’ is the right way to describe me,” he says. “There have been no great business plans. There has been no great overriding vision. I just want to entertain and amuse people and give back to the people I work with.”

‘He’s changed my life’ Eric Tansey, an Army National Guard veteran who also worked as a police officer in Raleigh, N.C., has experienced that uplift firsthand. When Palmisciano heard about Tansey’s quest to get a book published, he asked to read a few chapters. He was so impressed that he went to bat for Tansey, helping him get a book deal.

“I had nothing to offer him,” Tansey says. “I had no money. I have five kids and a wife, and I owned a distillery that wasn’t doing great at the time. I said, ‘This is great, but I don’t have enough money to get a book published. I can’t pay you or anything.’ And he said, ‘Dude, stop. This is not about that. This is about getting your story out there because it’s really that good.’”

Tansey’s book, “Pig Latin: A Seriously Funny True Story of a Former Police Officer,” was released in August. He says that without Palmisciano it would still be a draft, his Instagram followers closer to zero than 18,000 and his podcast just a dream.

“He’s changed my life so much,” says Tansey, a member of Post 1981 in Raleigh. “When Nick believed in me, that was the first time I felt that I wasn’t just a grunt. I mean, I am one, but now I believe I can be more than that. Nick was instrumental in building up my confidence.”

The birth of Diesel Jack Media Palmisciano recently reacquired Ranger Up after selling the company in 2019. Following the sale, the new owners informed employees they could move to Ohio or be laid off. Rather than abandon his team, Palmisciano assured them no one would be left behind.

“I said, ‘Hey, guys, I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is that you have a choice between moving to Ohio or getting laid off next Friday. Everybody was like, ‘We’re not moving to Ohio, so this sucks. What’s the good news?’ The good news was that they had a job if they wanted it at my new company. ‘What new company?’ they wondered.

“‘I’ll tell you on Monday.’”

That weekend, Palmisciano consulted some friends to ask what they saw as his core strengths. The consensus: writing, storytelling and marketing. Soon after, he created Diesel Jack Media, a full-service marketing agency with no revenue and no roadmap, but a commitment to give clients “more than I take from them.”

Afghanistan and Save Our Allies 91Ӱ���ƽ�� a year into running Diesel Jack Media, Palmisciano received a call that would change his life. A friend, Sarah Verardo, asked him to go to Afghanistan to help evacuate people during the chaotic U.S. withdrawal. “I thought she was joking because middle-aged dude wasn’t that cool back in the day, definitely not cool now,” he says. But 24 hours later, he was on a plane to the Emirates, then to Afghanistan.

“Our planes rescued 12,000 people, which was both a horrible and an incredible experience,” Palmisciano says. That mission led to the creation of Save Our Allies, described as a nonprofit expeditionary “strike force” of sorts. Palmisciano serves as vice president and founding board member.

“There is a vision most of us have that there’s somebody out there handling these things,” he says. “It’s not true. If we’re not doing it – if Save Our Allies isn’t involved, if No One Left Behind isn’t involved – there’s no one doing it.”

Palmisciano’s work takes him anywhere Americans and their allies need help, including Pakistan, Ukraine, Gaza, Haiti, western North Carolina after the 2024 floods and Los Angeles after the series of wildfires.

Partnering with the Legion For Palmisciano, 91Ӱ���ƽ�� represents something unique in the veterans service organization landscape. Growing up in Massachusetts, he saw Legionnaires in parades and attended wedding receptions at local posts.

“I always remember Legionnaires as being the people in the community who are helping out,” he says. “As a kid who had no desire to be in the military, didn’t even really realize his dad had been in the military, that’s what veterans do. They help people. That’s how I thought about it. It was all because of 91Ӱ���ƽ��.”

What sets the Legion apart, he believes, is its focus on helping veterans – the organization’s Be the One mission to prevent veteran suicide, for example. “The No. 1 thing that halts that catastrophic decline and leads to suicide is human interaction,” Palmisciano says. “There is no organization that has 12,000 locations in our country that are full of people who care about their community, who have been in tough situations, who have seen the results of suicide firsthand.”

He envisions a future where anyone in crisis – not just veterans – can walk into a Legion post and find someone trained to help. “Veterans need purpose and a tribe, and the Legion provides both those things. That is what makes it a special organization.”

Defining success Palmisciano’s other accomplishments include amateur wrestling championships, humanitarian work, being a New York Times bestselling author and successful entrepreneur, and more. Still, he maintains a humility rooted in Stoic philosophy. He first encountered Marcus Aurelius’ “Meditations” at 10 or 11, listening to his father and godfathers debate its meaning.

“I grabbed my dad’s copy of ‘Meditations,’ and I read it, and it was a very slow, painful read,” he recalls. Now he reads it two or three times a year as a reminder that “here’s this guy who was the emperor of the Roman Empire, and he’s sitting there telling himself, ‘Hey, man, you’re not that cool.’

“When you let emotion control you, it is impossible to make good decisions,” Palmisciano continues. “Stoicism fundamentally is the idea that things are going to happen, good and bad, and your reaction to both of those things is going to largely dictate the quality of your life.”

For him, time with family is key. “I think that defines us,” he says. “Everything else is noise.”

How does Palmisciano measure success? “I want to look back at my life and say I tried everything I wanted to try, and my kids still want to visit me in the retirement home,” he reflects. “That would be success.”

Henry Howard is deputy director of the American Legion Media & Communications Division.