The stress of repeated deployments travels home.
War's costs do not end at the battlefield's edge — they travel home in the bodies and nerves of those who served and those who waited. A study from Brigham and Women's Hospital, drawing on records spanning more than three million military-connected lives, finds that women who endured the peak combat years of 2006 to 2013 developed chronic pain at nearly twice the rate of those who came after, and that the suffering extended even to civilian spouses who never deployed. The research invites a reckoning with what modern warfare quietly extracts from families long after the fighting subsides.
- Servicewomen from the heaviest combat years faced a 53% higher likelihood of chronic pain than those who served in calmer periods — a gap that signals deployment intensity as a direct health hazard.
- The burden did not stop at the uniform: civilian wives and female dependents of deployed personnel also developed chronic pain at elevated rates, revealing how operational stress radiates through entire households.
- Lower income and preexisting mental illness compounded the risk sharply, particularly among Army and Marine Corps families, where barriers to care can allow pain to deepen and entrench.
- Researchers are now turning toward opioid prescription patterns and prospective long-term studies, seeking to understand whether this pain is a temporary wound or a permanent inheritance of service.
Researchers at Brigham and Women's Hospital have uncovered a sharp health divide among military women that maps almost precisely onto the intensity of America's combat deployments. Those who served between 2006 and 2013 — the years of heaviest fighting — developed chronic pain at a rate of 14.8 percent, nearly double the 7.1 percent recorded among women who served in the quieter years that followed. Published in JAMA Network Open, the study drew on health records for more than 3.4 million Department of Defense-connected individuals tracked over fourteen years.
What struck lead author Dr. Andrew Schoenfeld was not only the toll on servicewomen but the reach of that toll into civilian life. Female dependents of military personnel serving during the peak combat period developed chronic pain at 11.3 percent — a rate that fell to 3.7 percent in the later cohort. The stress of repeated deployments, it appears, does not stay overseas. Schoenfeld argues the Military Health System has not fully confronted how deployment cycles reshape the health of entire families.
The study also found that vulnerability was unevenly distributed. Those from lower socioeconomic backgrounds and those with preexisting mental health conditions faced the steepest risks, especially among Army and Marine Corps populations — groups that often encounter the greatest barriers to behavioral and medical care. The research relied on claims data rather than direct interviews, meaning the full texture of each diagnosis remains partially obscured, but the pattern across millions of records is difficult to dismiss.
Looking ahead, Schoenfeld's team plans to examine opioid prescription differences between active-duty women and civilian dependents, and to launch a prospective study following people forward in time rather than backward through records. The central question they are chasing is whether the pain these women carry is a wound that heals — or one that endures.
Researchers at Brigham and Women's Hospital have documented a stark health divide among military women and their families, one that tracks directly to the intensity of combat deployments. Those who served during the heaviest fighting years—2006 through 2013—developed chronic pain at nearly double the rate of those who came after, when deployments had eased. The finding, published in JAMA Network Open, exposes a cost of war that extends far beyond the battlefield, reaching into the civilian lives of military spouses and dependents.
The study examined health records for more than 3.4 million individuals ages 18 to 64 across all branches of the Department of Defense, tracking them from 2006 to 2020. Among them, roughly 324,000 people—about 9 percent—received a chronic pain diagnosis during the study window. But the numbers shifted sharply depending on when they served. Active-duty servicewomen who deployed during the peak combat years reported chronic pain at a rate of 14.8 percent, compared to just 7.1 percent for those serving in the quieter period that followed. Female dependents showed a similar pattern: 11.3 percent during 2006-2013, dropping to 3.7 percent afterward. In raw terms, servicewomen from the earlier cohort faced a 53 percent higher likelihood of chronic pain than their counterparts from later years.
What surprised the researchers, according to Dr. Andrew Schoenfeld, the study's lead author and an orthopedic surgeon at Brigham and Women's, was the magnitude of the effect on civilian spouses. The stress of repeated deployments, it appears, travels home. Female partners of military personnel serving during those intense years developed chronic pain at elevated rates themselves—a finding that underscores what Schoenfeld calls an overlooked dimension of military life. The Military Health System, he suggests, has not fully reckoned with how deployment schedules ripple through families.
Chronic pain is not a minor complaint. It persists for months or years, eroding quality of life and generating enormous costs. The CDC reported in 2021 that one in five American adults lives with chronic pain. For those affected, the condition means ongoing medical treatment, lost productivity, and the grinding wear of persistent discomfort. Among military populations, the burden appears concentrated among those who endured the heaviest operational tempo.
The study also revealed that vulnerability to chronic pain was not evenly distributed. Those from lower socioeconomic backgrounds and those with preexisting mental health conditions faced even steeper risks, particularly among Army and Marine Corps personnel. Schoenfeld noted that these populations often encounter greater barriers to accessing medical and behavioral health services, a gap that can allow pain to worsen and persist longer than it might otherwise.
The research has limits. The investigators worked from claims data—billing records and diagnoses—rather than direct patient interviews. They could not fully understand the circumstances or symptoms that led to each chronic pain diagnosis, only that the diagnosis was recorded. People with chronic pain before military service were excluded from the analysis, which means the study captures new cases tied to service, not the full burden.
Looking forward, Schoenfeld and his team plan to examine how prescription opioid use differs between active-duty servicewomen and civilian dependents living with chronic pain. They also intend to launch a prospective study—following people over time rather than looking backward at records—to better understand the long-term health consequences of military deployments on families. The question they are pursuing is whether the pain documented in these records is temporary or lasting, and what role medications play in managing it.
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I was surprised by the magnitude of the effect we observed here, particularly among female civilian spouses. This underscores an overlooked aspect of deployment schedules that the Military Health System must recognize.— Dr. Andrew Schoenfeld, lead author, Brigham and Women's Hospital
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Why does the timing of deployment matter so much? Couldn't other factors explain the difference between the two groups?
The researchers controlled for that as much as claims data allows. But you're right to be skeptical. The 2006-2013 period was objectively more intense—more frequent rotations, higher casualty rates, longer missions. The later cohort served during a drawdown. So the timing is a proxy for operational intensity.
And the female dependents—that's the surprising part, right? They weren't deployed themselves.
Exactly. They experienced the stress of having a partner deployed repeatedly. The separation, the uncertainty, the worry. That stress appears to have a measurable health cost. It's a reminder that war doesn't just affect the person in uniform.
Does the study explain why mental health and poverty make it worse?
Not fully. But the researchers point out that people with less money and existing mental health struggles have harder access to care. So if you develop pain, you're less likely to get treatment early. The pain compounds. It becomes chronic instead of resolving.
What's the opioid angle they want to explore next?
That's the practical question: how are these women and their families managing the pain? Are they being prescribed opioids at different rates? Are they becoming dependent? It's one thing to document the pain exists. It's another to understand how the healthcare system responds to it.
So this study is really a starting point.
It is. It shows the problem clearly. Now they need to understand the mechanisms and the long-term consequences.