I’m leaning against a tree in a stand of white oak, sugar maple, hemlock, and beech trees with a Marine corporal in his mid-30s named Nate.
We’re quiet, still, and hyper-vigilant of our surroundings—we’re searching hard for any movement in the woods before us. And for the first time, deer hunting strikes me as a proxy for military guard duty. It’s late fall in the Berkshires of western Massachusetts. Along with a handful of veterans from around the state, Nate and I are on the last hunt of the year led by a group called New England Adventures (NEA).
Founded by an Iraq War vet named Todd Crevier, the organization sponsors year-round hunting and fishing expeditions for veterans and their families.
It’s not snowing yet, but it might, and we’re all hoping for a fresh blanket of tracking snow. For now, our group is sitting tight at various points around 89 acres of private land made available to NEA by a local family with a Marine Corps history. This gives Nate and me a chance to get to know each other through whispers while we scan for deer.
After completing Close Quarters Battle school in Virginia—“We were blowing through 10,000 rounds a week”—Nate did two tours in Fallujah during the worst of the action there. He was a squad leader, one of those guys you see portrayed in movies who is kicking down doors and storming houses in search of enemy insurgents.
When he left the Marines in 2006, at age 23, Nate began a long-planned career in law enforcement. But that didn’t work out. Too quick to act, too much force. He found the new rules of engagement too restrictive to manage. “Marines tend to stay hardcore,” Nate says.
His resignation from his town’s police force was his low point, and a shroud of isolation descended upon him.
“You lose your profession, you lose your identity, you lose your self-worth,” he murmurs as we sit in the woods.
Crevier invited me on this hunt to help tell a story that many folks don’t want to read—the story of the ongoing battle that our military vets are fighting to claw their way back into civilian life, all while falling victim to an opioid epidemic that has rocked small-town America.
Nate was selected for an NEA hunt in 2016, and shortly after he joined the organization. He now serves as the de facto logistics coordinator. The night before our hunt begins, he presents a detailed mission briefing—personnel, topography, safety, weather, objectives—that functions as a potent callback to military service.
