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World’s Largest Fraternity

Imagine swapping the stresses of life in the States for golden beaches and the warmth of the late afternoon sun|©iStock/4FR

For the past ten years, I’ve lived in a cozy low-rise condo building that’s a ten-minute walk to Jomtien Beach, just two hours south of Bangkok.  

There are only 72 units in our 7-floor building, so everybody eventually knows everyone else. Last year, I kept seeing this new guy at the pool. 

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He was white as a ghost, but working on his tan from a ridiculously oversized pool float. Sometimes I’d see him zipping out of our parking lot on his motorbike with either a tennis racket or a pool cue slung over his back. 

I remember thinking, “He must be American.” It turns out he is an American renting a studio from my gregarious German neighbor, Andreas. I saw them talking by the pool and introduced myself.  “Bart is an American, Eric,” Andreas said. “And I think he was in the military too.” 

“I’m retired Air Force,” Eric said. 

“Really,” I said. “What was your AFSC?” (That’s Air Force Specialty Code – It identifies your career field) “291,” he said with a surprised grin. “702,” I replied, and for the next twenty minutes we went down an Air-Force-in-the-80s rabbit hole.  

Our German friend was lost.  “I speak four languages, and understand a few more,” Andreas said.  “But I’ve never heard this jibberish before. Did you guys already know each other?”

“The US military is the world’s largest fraternity,” Eric said, and I heartily agreed. Like me, Eric went into the Air Force right out of high school, got stationed overseas, and caught a terminal case of wanderlust.

For many of us, that first taste of life outside the US in our most vibrant years is a memory that never fades.

Eric was in Korea, Guam, Panama, the Philippines, and Hawaii for a long six-year stay. He retired at the end of his second tour in Korea and traveled extensively in Asia.  

“I tried to go back to the US and make things work, but a Master Sergeant’s retirement pay doesn’t go very far back home. I’d adjusted to lots of different lifestyles during my career, but I just couldn’t get the hang of life in America again. So I got on a plane and never looked back.” 

Since coming to Thailand in 1999, I’ve met veterans from every branch of the service, and from four different generations. Where I live now on the Eastern Seaboard is home to several veteran expat enclaves.  

Pattaya started out as a little fishing village but morphed into a raucous seaside resort town due to the US military presence during the Vietnam War. 

You could say it has US DNA, and you’ll find a robust group of vets here.  

That’s even more true an hour down the coast near Rayong. My uncle was stationed at Utapao Air Base in 1969, and that veteran community has been growing ever since.

The VFW Post (Veterans of Foreign Wars) there has an active group of retirees who spend their time playing golf and raising money for dozens of local charities. 

It's everything you want an expat community to be – and it’s on the beach.

Veterans who choose to live in Thailand tend to gather around city centers with big private hospitals. 

Those with full benefits can use their military health coverage called Tri-Care and receive world-class treatment in state-of-the-art facilities. 

Bangkok, of course, is home to some of the most prestigious, but places like Chiang Mai, with its university hospital, and Rayong, with its renowned cancer treatment center, are popular expat havens.

Last year, Lou Holub, a retired Navy Chief from Chicago, approached me, asking for help with an Army vet who was having some problems. 

The former infantryman had endured two tours of Iraq and a stretch in Afghanistan.  He had been through hell, and he had been suffering in silence for a long time.

Everyone in the veteran community had encouraged him to apply for disability with the VA (Veterans Administration). 

With the money, he could get treatment and counseling to help him out of his dark place.  The Chief learned that the Army vet had tried to apply but had so much trouble focusing that he couldn’t complete even the simplest sections of the complicated form. 

And, he was totally unable to tell his story in the all-important narrative section. 

That’s when he asked for my help. Since I’m the “Air Force Writer Guy”, I was tasked with the job of sitting our brother down and hearing his story from enlistment through his last days in Afghanistan, and then filling out the form.  

After a few drafts and revisions, the form was submitted.  The Chief hounded his contacts at the VA to get the gears of bureaucracy turning, and now our Army comrade is currently in a much healthier headspace.  

Just like when I was enlisted, I was proud to be part of the brotherhood. You don’t realize how important it is until you either need help or are called upon to provide it for others. I feel blessed.

These days my phone constantly beeps with messages from other American expats because the NFL season is closing in quickly.  We are less than 50 days from kickoff, and I’m looking forward to weekly gatherings for “Monday Night Football”.  Here we call it “Tuesday Morning Football", and we meet at Fraser’s Sports Bar for coffee and eggs, not chicken wings and beer. 

I see the same old friends, year after year, but there’s always a new person or two. And, as you might expect, there’s always a good chance I’ll meet a new veteran.

Last year, it was Brandon, another Army veteran from Alabama who served in Iraq and now runs an incredible soul food restaurant in Jomtien Beach. The year before, it was Jennifer, a former Marine Officer from Kansas City and an ophthalmologist. She lives in Pattaya but travels throughout Southeast Asia for medical missions in countries such as Myanmar and Laos. (Since she’s a Chiefs fan, we are arch-enemies!)

I may live on the other side of the planet, but as a US veteran, I’m never really without family.

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