This article is Part Two of a broader examination of what it truly means to serve in the U.S. military. In Part One, I explored the lies told by recruiters, the dangers of active duty, and the failures of the system that discards its own once their usefulness expires. Here, I turn to what happens after service is over, what it means to come home in one piece, but not whole.
Most Americans understand military service as spectacle: parades, flags, uniformed salutes, and polished graves. Few are asked to understand what it means to survive these institutions. The military teaches discipline, structure, and obedience, but it also trains people to detach from emotion, to suppress moral doubt, to endure silence while the mind fractures. This article is not about battlefield death. It is about what happens when you live.
What follows here are not political abstractions or anti-war slogans, but the lived experiences of those who survived service and now endure the long tail of trauma.
Q: What does it mean to survive the U.S. military?
To survive means your body returns. It does not mean you will feel alive.
"I died in Fallujah, but my body kept walking around afterward." —Former Marine, anonymous (Reddit, r/Veterans)
Survival in uniform is physical. Survival afterward is psychological, economic, and spiritual. And often, it is solitary.
"You leave the military and the world keeps spinning like nothing happened. You sit at Thanksgiving pretending the fireworks in your head aren't real." —Navy vet, personal blog (2022)
Q: How common is trauma after service?
A 2022 VA report found that approximately 15.7% of Iraq and Afghanistan veterans screen positive for PTSD (VA Research). But other studies suggest nearly 1 in 4 carry significant symptoms. These numbers increase when trauma is not just from combat, but from sexual assault, moral injury, or institutional betrayal.
"People think PTSD is all about bombs. For me, it was watching a child die after being given the wrong coordinates. Then being told to shut up about it." —Army veteran, quoted in The War Horse
"My trauma didn’t come from enemy fire. It came from my commanding officer after he assaulted me. Then he got promoted." —Air Force survivor, Protect Our Defenders testimony
Q: Will the military help you cope with the trauma it caused?
Rarely. While mental health services exist, they are underfunded, delayed, or constrained by stigma. Veterans describe having their pain minimized, their trauma pathologized, and their claims denied.
"I told the VA I was suicidal. They scheduled me an appointment… in 3 weeks." —Veteran testimony from Task & Purpose
"They gave me pills and a pamphlet. Said I was depressed. I wasn’t depressed, I was drowning." —Former Army Specialist, comment thread (r/Veterans)
Q: What happens when you can’t sleep?
You drink. You take pills. You scroll endlessly. You try to sleep with the lights on. You avoid dreams. The night becomes its own battlefield.
The Department of Veterans Affairs confirms that substance abuse co-occurs in about one-third of veterans who die by suicide (SAMHSA).
"I wasn’t trying to die. I was just trying to quiet my head." —Veteran in recovery, via NPR
"Sleep is a war I fight every night. I have to knock myself out just to get four hours." —Marine veteran, VA support group, 2023
Q: What about moral injury?
Moral injury is not PTSD. It’s not fear; it’s guilt, shame, and spiritual violation. It comes from doing something, or failing to stop something, that goes against your core values.
"I was ordered to fire into a building. Later I found out it housed civilians. I’ve never been the same." —U.S. Army Sergeant, quoted in Vanity Fair
"It wasn’t the war that broke me, it was what I did during it, and how no one cared afterward." —Iraq vet, VA group therapy journal excerpt (shared anonymously)
Psychologists say moral injury is harder to treat because it's not about anxiety, but betrayal of others and of oneself.
Q: How does trauma follow you?
It hides in the smell of fuel. In fireworks. In crowds. In silence. It follows into marriage, into parenting, into joblessness. It shows up during divorce proceedings and custody hearings. It never fully leaves.
"I can’t be around my kids sometimes because I’m afraid of what I might do when I lose control." —Afghanistan veteran, Military Times
"I’ve lost jobs because I can’t concentrate. I’ve lost friends because I can’t connect. I’ve lost years." —VA disability appeal, 2021
Q: Why is this not discussed in recruiting offices?
Because honesty doesn’t meet quotas. Because empire relies on a supply chain of young bodies. Because broken veterans don’t make good marketing material.
"You are sold a fantasy. But no one tells you what the return policy is." —Former recruiter, interview with The Intercept
"No recruiter says, ‘Join the Army so you can be homeless, addicted, and afraid to sleep.’ But that’s the story for thousands." —Veterans advocacy group, Common Defense
Final Thoughts
This is not a story of failure. It’s a story of survival. But surviving the military is not about medals or parades. It is about carrying ghosts, living with contradictions, and rebuilding identity from rubble.
If you are considering enlistment, know this: the war doesn’t end when you come home. For many, it just begins. If you are a survivor, your pain is real, your story matters, and you are not alone.
To honor service is not to glorify it; it is to bear witness to its cost.