If you are reading this, conduct a sensitive items check on your sanity. You made it. You survived another twelve months of last-minute orders to places that haven’t been added to maps yet, healthcare transitions that will be studied for centuries, and the special brand of politics that comes from being told “we care about you.” At the same time, you’re doing battle with the black mold that has achieved sentience in your laundry room.
Related: Everything there is to know about military pay and veteran benefits for 2026
Looking back, 2025 wasn’t just us taking a collective lap around the bright orange ball. It was a deployment to the domestic front. It was the year the Department of Defense finally admitted that patriotism alone won’t cover the cost of eggs.
We saw historic pay raises and a career-saving victory for remote workers. But because the military universe demands a Newton’s Third Law of Suffering, we also watched a housing audit confirm what we’ve been screaming at sweaty housing officials for a decade: our neighborhoods are being run by contractors who view us as ATMs rather than families.
It’s not always pretty; however, here are some of the stories that might have actually mattered to your household in 2025.
1. The $1,776 Switcheroo
For years, the powers that be claimed “budget constraints” prevented real pay hikes. There were billions of dollars for countries like Argentina, but there never seemed to be any for the quality of life of service members or their families. In 2025, that excuse evaporated, but they tried to sell a logistical sleight of hand in the process.
The headline news is the “Warrior Dividend”, that surprise $1,776 tax-free payment announced in December. The administration wants you to treat it like a lottery win. Don’t. If you strip down the legislation, you’ll see this money wasn’t collected through tariffs; it’s something you’d see Penn and Teller try to pull off; it’s the classic shell game.
Those funds were repurposed from the $2.6 billion military housing supplement passed earlier this year. Essentially, the DoD raided the account meant to fix the rot in your walls, rebranded it as a “Christmas Bonus,” and handed it to you like your Clark W. Griswold.
The true victory was the 14.5% pay surge for E-1 through E-4 that kicked in back in April. Unlike the dividend, this was a permanent fix for the base pay tables, as well as VIP tables nationwide.
For the first time in decades, Congress acknowledged that the “E-4 Mafia” cannot run the military effectively while qualifying for SNAP benefits. That extra few hundred dollars a month wasn’t a gift; it was basically back pay for years of neglect.
2. Remote Work is Now “Hard Cover” for Milspouses
For military spouses, “Return to Office” mandates were basically a resignation notice. You cannot commute to D.C. when the brass decides your spouse needs to be in the middle of the Mojave.
In February, the Office of Personnel Management (OPM) finally codified common sense. The new memo stating that military spouses are categorically exempt from federal “Return to In-Person Work” mandates is the biggest win for spouse employment since the invention of WiFi. It turned a remote job from a perk into a potential t.v. sitcom
If you have a federal remote gig, agencies can no longer force you to quit just because your spouse got orders. It’s the career equivalent of having air superiority; like Obi-Wan, you finally have the high ground.
3. The Housing War: New Year, Same Insider Threat
The irony of the “Warrior Dividend” coming from housing funds is that housing is still a Nightmare on Elm Street. Just last month, the DoD Inspector General released a scathing audit that should make every spouse see red.
The findings were grim. Housing offices lacked the basic tools to detect mold, and in some horror stories, windows were sealed shut to hide lead paint issues. We are living in 2025; if we can’t have hoverboards, we should at least be able to control indoor moisture.
Despite the 5.4% BAH increase this year, families at bases like Randolph and Fort Sam Houston are still fighting battles against structural and systemic rot.
The takeaway for 2026? Use that $1,776 check to buy an expensive humidifier and a cheap lawyer. The housing office clearly views you as a tenant, not a priority. Treat the walkthroughs like a crime scene investigation, because once you sign that lease, you are on your own.
4. The TriWest Fiasco Was a Digital Ambush
If housing was the physical battle, TRICARE was the electronic one. We started 2025 with the massive “T-5” contract transition, which shifted six states to the TRICARE West Region. On paper, it should have been a simple admin swap. In reality, it was the equivalent of having an alien burst through your chest as you sit down for dinner with your family.
By mid-January, the “TriWest Fiasco” was in full swing. Families reported spending four to six hours on hold, just to verify they existed. The referral transfer, promised to be automatic, collapsed in on itself like a dying sun. Still, there was further chaos that could ensue.
Thousands of families watched their authorizations for pediatric therapies and mental health counseling vanish into the cold, dark digital void. We saw parents forced to pay out-of-pocket for speech therapy while waiting weeks for a “system update.”
Then came the portal crashes. Disenrollment letters were sent in error to families of Reserve and Retiree families, real people who had already paid their premiums. This naturally caused panic that apologies weren’t going to fix. The lesson? The entire system is essentially a large toddler that requires around-the-clock supervision.
If you have complex medical needs, you are now your own Case Manager. Keep paper copies. The cloud is not as reliable as a binder and folder.
2025 was the year the military finally respected your wallet, even if they had to raid the housing budget to do it. We head into 2026 with higher base pay and protected jobs, which is more momentum than we’ve had since the 2008 surge.
But momentum is finite. It will diminish the moment you stop applying pressure; constant vigilance is a must, but the resilience of the military family is not a resource that Congress can tap into forever without depleting it altogether. This year showed that when we get loud, about pay, about jobs, about mold that offers to pay rent, the pendulum will swing back our way and hang around for a while.
So take the win, save the cash, and keep your files documented. The year might change, but what we do has not: adapt and overcome. Happy New Year to all of you, from all of us.
