30,000 GWOT Veterans Have Died After the War. Four Times the Number Killed in Combat.

It is a hard truth that veterans of the Global War on Terror, those who served in Iraq, Afghanistan, and related operations, experience a shortened lifespan compared with the general U.S. population and with less severely affected veteran cohorts. War takes its obvious toll downrange, but the deeper toll often shows up years later, through the slow math of stress physiology, chronic injury, isolation, and preventable deaths that never make the evening news.

The most cited research that puts a number on this comes from a study of 309,977 deceased U.S. veterans rated 100% service connected, which found an overall average age at death of 67. When separated by gender, the average age at death was 63 for women and 68 for men. The authors note an important limitation: comparing an “average age at death” for a high disability cohort to general population “life expectancy at birth” is not a perfect apples-to-apples match, but it is a clear starting point for illustrating a diminished lifespan in the most severely disabled cohort.

For context, CDC life expectancy at birth in the U.S. is 75.8 for males and 81.1 for females.

Even acknowledging the study’s limitation, the directional signal is hard to ignore: the veterans carrying the heaviest service-connected burden are not making it to the same finish line as their civilian peers, and that gap is not explained by one thing. The drivers are layered. PTSD is common, and it is not just a mental health diagnosis. The VA reports that among the 5.8 million veterans served in fiscal year 2024, about 14% of men and 24% of women were diagnosed with PTSD.  PTSD is also associated with excess mortality risk, including from chronic conditions and from external causes like accidents and suicide. The VA’s own clinical synthesis states that PTSD is linked to excess mortality, and it references meta-analytic findings showing PTSD increases mortality risk, with particularly strong effects for external causes of death.

In addition to 100 % service-connected populations, studies show that all post-9/11 veterans face elevated mortality risks compared with civilians and earlier cohorts. Research published in JAMA Network Open found that all-cause mortality in post-9/11 veterans exceeded that of the general U.S. population, with the gap growing among those with traumatic brain injuries — a signature injury of modern conflict.  Data on suicide reflect a stark reality: researchers estimate that more than 30,000 GWOT service members and veterans have died by suicide since 2001, more than four times the number killed in combat.  Combined with heightened risk of accidental and chronic disease mortality among those with TBI and related conditions, the evidence suggests this isn’t an isolated disability-only phenomenon but a cohort-wide health crisis tied to the long-term effects of prolonged combat deployments and post-9/11 operational tempo.

Suicide remains one of the most brutal engines of early death. The VA’s 2024 National Veteran Suicide Prevention Annual Report reports 6,407 suicides among veterans in 2022.  That is not a talking point. It is a permanent emergency. It also means that any serious attempt to close the life expectancy gap has to treat suicide prevention as a daily operational priority, not a slogan or a once-a-year campaign.

Substance risk is another channel that bleeds lifespan quietly. Peer-reviewed research on veteran overdose mortality found that from 2010 to 2019, age-adjusted overdose mortality rates increased 53.2% among veterans. Combat stress and chronic pain interact. Sleep disruption and hyperarousal interact. Isolation and unemployment interact. If the only “support” a veteran experiences is a phone number and a website, we should not pretend surprise when the numbers stay bad.

All of this connects to what researchers sometimes call the “healthy soldier effect,” the idea that military populations start out healthier than civilian populations because of screening and fitness standards, but that advantage erodes over time once exposure, injury, and chronic stress accumulate. The post-9/11 era adds a modern twist: repeated deployments, blast exposure, moral injury, and a transition system that often severs community at the exact moment community is most needed. The result is not just suffering. The result is mortality.

That is the diagnosis. The harder question is what fixes it.

This is where Combat Veterans of America’s post model matters, because it is not built around ceremony. It is built around proximity, consistency, and systems. If the risk factors are disconnection, untreated stress injury, chronic pain, poor sleep, unemployment, and drifting purpose, then the answer is not another ribbon cutting. The answer is a physical hub that makes stability easier to access than chaos.

A modern CVA Post is designed to function like a veteran operating base inside a community. The gym is not a perk. It is a health intervention that reduces depression symptoms, improves sleep, and gives veterans a daily anchor that does not require them to “feel motivated” first. Nutritionists and structured training are not lifestyle content. They are risk management, because metabolic health, alcohol use, and chronic pain are tied to longevity outcomes. Education and employment offices are not secondary services. They are part of the survival chain, because meaning, structure, and financial stability are protective factors against self-destruction and isolation. The clinic component is about early access and continuity, and it is designed to close the gap between “I am struggling” and “I finally got an appointment.” The lounge and community space are not fluff either. They are the antidote to the quietest killer in this entire conversation: a veteran alone in a house with no tribe, no routine, and no reason to leave.

That is also why CVA’s model is meant to scale. Once one community proves a post can operate as a self-sustaining hub that actually touches health, work, education, and daily connection, it becomes replicable. People stop arguing theory and start copying what works. The end goal is not to criticize legacy orgs for being outdated. The end goal is to build the infrastructure that makes the next generation of veterans live longer.

The GWOT taught us how to deploy. Now we need to learn how to recover. Not with platitudes, but with systems that reduce preventable death. If we mean “leave no one behind,” it has to apply after the war too.