As the federal government shutdown stretches on, one of the biggest questions on the minds of military families in Washington State is whether they’ll see a paycheck on October 15. It’s a question that carries real weight, not just as a matter of policy or politics, but as a daily concern for thousands of households trying to figure out how to pay rent, buy groceries, and keep the lights on while serving their country.
Washington is home to thousands of service members and their families, from Joint Base Lewis-McChord near Tacoma to Naval Base Kitsap and Fairchild Air Force Base in Spokane. These bases form a critical part of the state’s economy and the communities that surround them. Joint Base Lewis-McChord alone is one of the largest military installations on the West Coast, housing tens of thousands of soldiers, airmen, and their families. Naval Base Kitsap is home to the Pacific Fleet’s submarine force and the only dry dock on the West Coast capable of handling nuclear-powered aircraft carriers. Fairchild Air Force Base supports strategic air refueling and reconnaissance missions that stretch across the globe. These are not abstract operations. They are staffed by people who live in Tacoma, Bremerton, Spokane, and dozens of smaller towns across the state, people who wake up every morning and go to work whether the government is funded or not.
But with the shutdown now in effect, funding for many federal operations has halted, leaving uncertainty over how and when active-duty personnel will be paid. The irony is not lost on military families. They are required to show up, to deploy, to stand ready, to do everything their orders demand, but the mechanism that ensures they are compensated for that work has become a political football in Washington, D.C. For families living paycheck to paycheck, especially in high-cost areas like Pierce and King counties where housing prices have soared in recent years, the stakes are immediate and personal.
Under federal law, members of the military are required to continue their duties during a government shutdown, even if funding lapses. This is not optional. A soldier cannot simply stop reporting for duty because Congress has failed to pass a budget. A sailor cannot refuse to deploy because appropriations have stalled. The mission continues, regardless of whether the paychecks do. However, without an active appropriation from Congress, the Defense Department cannot issue paychecks as usual. The money that flows into service members’ bank accounts every two weeks does not come from some automatic reserve. It requires congressional action, and when that action stops, so does the pay.
In past shutdowns, Congress has passed emergency legislation to ensure troops were paid on time. The Pay Our Military Act, signed during the 2013 shutdown, became a model for how to keep service members whole even when the rest of the government was in limbo. That law ensured that active-duty personnel, as well as civilian employees and contractors directly supporting military operations, continued to receive their salaries without interruption. It was a recognition that asking people to work without pay, especially people who have sworn an oath to defend the country, was not just unfair but dangerous to morale and readiness. So far, no such bill has been signed for this shutdown. There have been statements, promises, and reassurances, but no concrete legislation has made it through both chambers of Congress and onto the president’s desk.
President Trump has said that all available funds will be used to make sure service members receive their pay on October 15. It’s a statement that offers some comfort, but it also raises questions. What does “all available funds” mean? Are those funds sufficient to cover every service member across every branch? Are there contingency accounts that can be tapped without congressional approval, or is this dependent on legal interpretations of existing authorities? Yet, Pentagon officials and pay administrators have not provided full confirmation that all branches will be covered if the shutdown continues past mid-month. The Defense Finance and Accounting Service, which processes military pay, has been notably cautious in its communications, neither guaranteeing that checks will go out nor confirming that they won’t. That ambiguity is what keeps families up at night.
The uncertainty is weighing heavily on Washington’s military families, many of whom rely on base pay to cover rent, groceries, and child care. For junior enlisted service members, especially those with families, the margin for error is thin. A second lieutenant or a junior enlisted sailor might be making between $2,000 and $3,000 a month before taxes and deductions. In a place like Tacoma, where the median rent for a two-bedroom apartment hovers around $1,500 or more, and childcare costs can easily run another $800 to $1,200 per month, there is not much left over for emergencies. A delayed paycheck is not an inconvenience. It is a crisis. It means choosing between paying the electric bill or buying diapers. It means calling the landlord to beg for an extension. It means pulling kids out of daycare because you can’t pay the provider on time, which then makes it impossible to report for duty.
Organizations such as Army Emergency Relief and Navy-Marine Corps Relief Society are preparing to assist families if pay is delayed, offering interest-free loans and grants to help cover essentials. These nonprofits exist precisely for moments like this, when the usual systems fail and families need a bridge to get through. They have been through this before, during past shutdowns and during natural disasters that disrupted pay systems. They know how to mobilize quickly, how to process applications for emergency assistance, and how to get cash into the hands of families who need it within days. But relying on charity to make up for a failure of governance is not a solution anyone should be comfortable with. It is a stopgap, a bandaid over a wound that should not have been inflicted in the first place.
Meanwhile, the Washington Department of Veterans Affairs and local nonprofits say they are monitoring the situation closely to provide support if needed. Food banks are bracing for an uptick in demand. Community organizations near military bases are setting up emergency funds and opening their doors to families who might need help with utilities, transportation, or school supplies. Churches and civic groups are organizing donation drives. It is the kind of grassroots mobilization that speaks to the resilience and generosity of communities, but it also underscores a harsh reality. When the federal government cannot fulfill its most basic obligation to the people who defend it, it falls to neighbors and volunteers to pick up the slack.
If Congress reaches a funding agreement before the 15th, paychecks should be issued as normal. That is the hope everyone is clinging to. Negotiations continue, and there are signs that some lawmakers understand the urgency of the situation and are working toward a resolution. But the political dynamics are complicated, and the path to a deal is unclear. If not, military members may have to wait until after the shutdown ends, at which point they will receive back pay under the Government Employee Fair Treatment Act of 2019. That law guarantees that federal workers, including military personnel, will eventually be paid for the time they worked during the shutdown. But “eventually” does not pay the rent on October 1st. “Eventually” does not put food on the table this week. Back pay is cold comfort when you are trying to explain to your kids why there is no birthday party this year or why you had to cancel the family trip you had been saving for.
Until then, thousands of military households in Washington remain in limbo, waiting to see whether their next paycheck will arrive on time or be delayed by politics in Washington, D.C. They are checking their bank accounts obsessively, refreshing their browsers, hoping to see the direct deposit notification that usually comes like clockwork. They are texting each other, comparing notes, trying to piece together information from official channels and rumor mills alike. They are making contingency plans, calling creditors to explain the situation, reaching out to family members who might be able to loan them money if it comes to that. And they are doing all of this while continuing to show up for work, to train, to deploy, to stand watch, because that is what the uniform demands.
This is not the first time military families have faced this kind of uncertainty, and it probably will not be the last. But each time it happens, it erodes a little more trust, a little more of the social contract that says if you serve your country, your country will take care of you. It is a reminder that the people who wear the uniform are not abstract symbols or political pawns. They are your neighbors, your friends, the parents at the school pickup line, the volunteers at the food bank, the coaches of the Little League team. They deserve better than to wonder whether they will be paid for the work they are already doing. They deserve a government that functions well enough to meet its obligations, even when politics get messy. And they deserve to know, with certainty, that when October 15 comes around, the paycheck they have earned will be there.
Sonnet 4.5
