Bonds of veterans tested by anger of 2020
After surviving some of the bloodiest combat in Afghanistan, the men of the 2nd Battalion, 7th Marine Regiment stayed connected on social media for support at home as they grappled with the fallout of war.
It was a rough transition to civilian life. Many men were disillusioned about why they fought; others struggled with post-traumatic stress. Suicide stalked their ranks. Those close online connections offered something the veterans’ health care system did not: common ground, understanding, friends ready to talk day or night.
But the connections that held strong through all those troubles have been frayed to breaking by the partisan rancor of 2020. The Facebook group the men once relied on for support is now clogged with divisive memes and partisan conspiracy theories, disputes over policing and protests, and, of course, strong views on the president.
The din has driven a growing number of members to log off in dismay. Many say they still want to support their fellow Marines but cannot stand the toxic political traffic.
Party strategists and analysts tend to treat veterans as a homogeneous voting bloc, conservative-leaning and focused mainly on defense and benefits issues. But veterans are increasingly diverse in their outlook, and deeply divided over the coming election.
The explosive issues of a strange year and the unconventional presidency of Donald Trump have pried veterans apart, just as they have divided families at kitchen tables and friends in now-canceled softball leagues. Like many other Americans, veterans can find it hard even to agree to disagree when so many see November as a critical turning point.
And those cracks are clear among the veterans of the 2/7. Many from the battalion have un followed longtime friends. Some have left the unit’s online support group entirely.
“It hurts my soul to see all this childish drama,” said Keith Branch, a former infantryman from the battalion. “Brothers that formed bonds in war, I see them becoming broken over childish arguments. I disconnect fromit— I’m already dealing with post-traumatic stress. It hurts toomuch to look at it.”
In 2015, veterans of the battalion’s combat deployments had a suicide rate 14 times the national average, and Branch, who lives in Texas, helped to set up the rapid response network of volunteers who could race to the scene when a fellow battalion veteran was contemplating suicide. The group made several critical interventions to save lives.
Now, he said, membersof the Facebook group are much less willing than before to open up about their feelings amid the partisan hostility, and real discussion about the fallout of combat has grown rare.
“People are saying they are never going to talk to each other again, and calling each other names,” said Branch, who voted for Gary Johnson, the Libertarian Party candidate, in 2016 and does not plan to vote this year. “I don’t get it. Wewent to war to fight extremism. I don’t understand why we can’t find commonground.”
In 2016, exit polls showed that veterans backed Trump over Hillary Clinton by nearly 2 to 1. Demographics are partof the reason— veterans skew old and male and white, and so does the core of Trump’s support.
“He had a message that also resonated with a lot of vets,” said Alex McCoy, a former Marine who is now political director of Common Defense, a political action group working to mobilize veterans to vote against Trump.
As a candidate in 2016, Trump blasted the politicians and generals who had perpetuated the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan and had ignored problems with veterans’ health care, McCoy said. “He picked the right enemies, he was yelling at the right people,” McCoy said.
It is unclear now whether Trump will be able to muster asmuch support.
As president, Trump has steadily drawn down troop levels abroad and has expanded veterans’ access to health care, two broadly popular accomplishments. But at the same time, many veterans have been turned off by what they see as Trump’s lack of character and leadership skills.
Though military voters are often portrayed as uniform in their views, they have become increasingly divided over the last four years, McCoy said. Younger veterans and active-duty troops, who tend to include more women and are less white than older veterans, are especially split. And with those splits have come the same type of infighting among veterans that is now so common at family gatherings.
“There are many stories of battle buddies that fought together in combat together, and now they won’t talk because of politics,” McCoy said. “It’s heartbreaking.”
Several veterans in the battalion said they were determined to ignore the extreme political views and try to keep the group together.
Andrew Bird, a former sergeant who lives in Maryland, said he purposefully tried to keep politics out of the battalion’s discussions, steering things toward their common experiences instead.
He noted that despite all the political feuding, when a veteran in the group recently shared on Facebook that he had lost his house in a wildfire in Oregon, others immediately mobilized to help him.
“It’s good for us to remember,” he said, “that the guy you might want to fight with on Facebook probably ran across a field under fire to do something for you — and now you’re arguing over two old dudes who say they’re going tochange your life and almost certainly won’t.”