Abstract
While international laws of war have existed in one form or another for centuries and have been updated to include the Rules of Engagement (ROE) for American service members, compliance has been difficult to enforce, contributing to high numbers of civilian casualties. We used grounded theory to analyze testimonies given by members of Vietnam Veterans Against the War (VVAW) at their Winter Soldier event in 1971 (before ROE were issued) and testimonies given by Iraq Veterans Against the War (IVAW) at their own Winter Soldier event in 2008 (after ROE were issued) to better understand why service members continue to violate the laws of war. Despite the important changes made to the military between those two time periods, we found compelling similarities between the two sets of testimonies. We found that war has both front and back regions. In back regions of war, service members described some commanding officers as prioritizing the military subculture’s code of violence over the formal laws of war. This alternative guide encouraged the use of violence to express anger, gain status, and have fun. Service members who followed the subcultural code of violence and killed noncombatants constructed accounts for front regions of war in which their violence was compliant with the formal laws of war. Such findings suggest that informal military subculture must be addressed to increase compliance.
Introduction
Both international and domestic guidelines govern modern warfare. The laws of war are international rules governing armed hostilities to prevent unnecessary suffering and protect human rights (Aldrich, 2000; Roberts, 1993–1994) and have existed in various forms for centuries (Forsythe, 2019; Morrow, 2007; Posner, 2003; Schindler and Toman, 1988). Since the 1950s, the US military and executive branch have issued guidance on when service members may use force (Frost‑Nielsen, 2018; Roach, 1983; Sandvik, 2014), which was formalized into standardized Rules of Engagement (ROE) in the 1980s (Frost‑Nielsen, 2018; Roach, 1983; Sandvik, 2014). 1 Despite these rules, war crimes persist in every conflict (Morrow, 2007; Posner, 2003), and civilians make up most casualties (Aldrich, 2000; Jawad et al., 2020; Khorram‑Manesh et al., 2021; Levy and Sidel, 2015). Aldrich (2000) observes that improving compliance is among the hardest and most important problems in the laws of war, pointing to ignorance, skepticism about enforceability, and weak monitoring and dispute mechanisms as drivers of noncompliance. We explore why service members are motivated to violate the laws of war 2 and the social processes that lead them to do so, using grounded theory to consider the question: “Why do American service members regularly fail to comply with the laws of war?”
Comparing Winter Soldier testimonies from Vietnam Veterans Against the War (VVAW; 1971, before ROE standardization) and Iraq Veterans Against the War (IVAW; 2008, after ROE standardization) reveals striking similarities. While formal guidelines limited permissible violence, military subculture legitimated violence across a broader range of circumstances—as a means of expressing anger, gaining status, and having fun—thereby facilitating violations. Commanders who prioritized subcultural norms over legal rules encouraged noncompliance. Thus, revising ROE or adding training (Pennekamp, 2013; Roach, 1983) may be insufficient if subcultural incentives for violence persist. Because war operates in front and back regions, both spheres must be addressed to reduce war crimes.
Our study contributes to the literature on front and back regions, audiences and codes of violence, and military subcultures. Prior work shows many service members find ROE inadequate (Pennekamp, 2013) and that the military subculture fosters a masculine warrior ideal that dehumanizes opponents and civilians (Andén‑Papadopoulos, 2009; Greene et al., 2010) that varies depending on unit leadership (Pennekamp, 2013). However, research has not fully examined conflicts between formal laws and subcultural norms in shaping violence in back regions. Our findings suggest that units whose commanders emphasize the military subculture are more likely to produce back-region noncompliance.
We proceed by reviewing literature on Goffman’s front and back regions, the formal laws of war, violence and audiences, codes of violence, and military subcultures. We then describe the VVAW and IVAW Winter Soldier events and our methods, compare VVAW and IVAW testimonies, explore the contrast between the laws of war and the military subculture’s codes of violence, analyze three forms of violence encouraged by the military subculture (expressing anger, gaining status, and having fun), and conclude by discussing implications for future war crimes and wartime abuses.
Literature review
Goffman’s (1959) dramaturgical analysis in The Presentation of Self in Everyday Life likens social interaction to theater, distinguishing the front region (social interactions before audiences) from the back region (private spaces where “suppressed facts make an appearance”; p. 112). Although physical boundaries may exist, Goffman stresses that access is controlled to shield audiences from backstage activity and that it is the presence or absence of an audience that defines front versus back regions (Goffman, 1959; Han, 2009). Back regions may still observe standards for an imagined “nonpresent” audience (Goffman, 1959: 50), and individuals often perform as teams, preparing front performances backstage and concealing incongruent facts—making teams akin to a “secret society” (Goffman, 1959: 64). He also notes team members likely seek assurance from peers that they can keep backstage secrets and perform competently before audiences. Individuals commonly face “dramaturgical dilemmas,” and must engage in continual “code-shifting” based on audience and context (Ward, 2015: 222) to reconcile identity performances (Scott, 2005).
War displays analogous front and back-region behavior (Carson, 2016; Decker, 2022). Military secrecy, which is vital for security, is “very well guarded against outsiders” and shelters military culture from scrutiny (Soeters, 2018: 92). At the macro level, leaders in limited wars may obscure conflict to avoid escalation (Carson, 2016). At the micro level, service members may commit acts incompatible with official or media narratives in back regions (Decker, 2022). Front-stage areas encompass any space where a performance is displayed to an audience, including media such as television, newspapers, magazines, and radio (Fu, 1989; Goffman, 1959). This framework extends to war coverage, where media accounts take place in front regions while victims’ accounts remain in back regions (Choi 2008). Building on Goffman, we argue that war’s front and back regions host two distinct codes of violence: the formal laws of war governing front regions and the military subcultural code operating in back regions.
Formal laws of war and new warfare
Customary practices based on both state interests and Christian charity during war were formally codified into international law during events such as the Hague Convention and the Geneva Conventions to protect victims of war such as civilians, the sick and wounded, the shipwrecked, and prisoners of war (Forsythe, 2019; Morrow, 2007; Posner, 2003; Roberts, 1993–1994; Schindler and Toman, 1988). These laws have been modified to address “new warfare” in which the lines between “war” and “nonwar” blur (Ehrenreich Brooks, 2004; Sitaraman, 2009). Rather than fighting uniformed soldiers, service members increasingly confront nonstate actors, making it harder to distinguish combatants from civilians (Blank and Guiora, 2010; Pennekamp, 2013). Fighting now occurs in cities and refugee camps rather than on battlefields, and combatants or resistance groups often operate under civilian cover (Blank and Guiora, 2010). Developed in response to new warfare, ROE have been criticized as vague, imprecise, overly detailed, complex, or too restrictive (Pennekamp, 2013; Roach, 1983). They focus on self‑defense without privileging avoidance of force and often implicitly value soldiers’ lives over civilians’ (Pennekamp, 2013). Some argue that clearer rules would reduce civilian deaths (Aldrich, 2000; Pennekamp, 2013), but such proposals generally overlook military subcultural norms. Our research indicates that despite legal revisions and ROE, subcultural incentives can impede compliance by promoting forms of violence incompatible with the laws of war.
Violence and audiences
Previous scholarship shows that audiences strongly shape violence. While observers often deter it (Ejbye‑Ernst, 2023; Ejbye‑Ernst and Bernasco, 2022; Levine et al., 2011; Parks et al., 2013), they can also escalate it, with audience encouragement or opposition closely linked to violence levels (Collins, 2008). Grossman (1995) argues that most people, even trained soldiers, find killing difficult, 3 but leaders and peers can raise the likelihood of violence through group dynamics such as regard for comrades, respect for leaders, concern for reputation, and a desire to help the group (p. 112). Leaders’ explicit expectations increase firing rates, and fellow service members strongly motivate violence. The microsociological approach likewise emphasizes that physiological confrontational tension and fear (ct/f) inhibit violence and must be bypassed. Collins (2008, 2009, 2013) identifies five bypasses—targeting weak victims, staging audience‑oriented controlled fights, remote violence, deception, and absorption in technique. Outnumbering a victim or having an encouraging audience dramatically raises the chance of violence.
Katz (1988) and Anderson (2000) show audiences can heighten humiliation and pressure offenders to retaliate to save face. Katz links public humiliation to rage and homicide, while Anderson (2000) argues that defending one’s street reputation makes public violence necessary. Beck (2011) frames violence as involving target, performer, and audience, with perpetrators communicating to victims and observers; audiences may be the public, eyewitnesses, peers, media, or researchers. Studies of terrorism, civil war, and genocide likewise treat violence as communication to bystanders (Barnett, 1999; Grunfeld and Huijboom, 2007; Kalyvas, 2006; Schmid and de Graaf, 1982; Vetlesen, 2000). Cooney (2009) concludes that audience effects vary by relational closeness. Observers close to both parties tend to reduce violence, whereas those close to the offender but not the victim increase it.
Culture and codes of violence
Previous scholarship shows violence is a culturally learned behavioral script used to express feelings, demonstrate power and inequality, and communicate threats (Beck, 2011; Hoover Green, 2016; Lee et al., 2007, 2014). Cultures define when violence is acceptable, and some foster a “culture of violence,” which treats violence as an appropriate solution across contexts (Gastil, 1971; Hackney, 1969; Lee et al., 2007, 2014; Steenkamp, 2005). Such cultures produce codes of violence, “norms with sanctions that regulate violent acts” (Matsueda et al., 2006: 334), which are typically rooted in masculine definitions and doing gender (Anderson et al., 2009; Applin et al., 2023; Connell and Messerschmidt, 2005; Curtis, 2019; Thomas, 2022).
Codes of violence are prominent in both street culture and cultures of honor (Dietrich and Schuett, 2013; Kim and Cohen, 2010; Leung and Cohen, 2011; Mosquera, 2013; van Osch et al., 2013). In honor cultures, reputation is a social capital that affects business and politics (Allen and Reed, 2006; LaVanque‑Manty, 2006). Codes often require individuals to defend their honor physically, so insults can trigger violence. Street culture likewise emphasizes defending one’s reputation, so insults or disrespect can prompt violent responses. Collins (2008) discusses both street and honor codes, downplaying street code as bluster and treating honor codes as peer mechanisms for ritualized fair fights, though he concedes that such areas have higher rates of violence. He focuses on peer conflicts and episodic wartime “moral holiday” massacres. By contrast, we examine a code targeting outsiders and find many violations were routine, not frenzied panics. Critics note that Collins does not account for how groups maintain and diffuse violent techniques (Cooney, 2009; Magaudda, 2011; Thomas, 2022). We examine how military subcultural norms and social processes help circumvent ct/f and contribute to noncompliance with formal laws of war.
Although law enforcement and military units differ, they share important commonalities (Doherty, 2016; Campbell and Campbell, 2016). Policing research shows tension between formal front‑region guidelines and informal subcultural norms governing force (Obasogie and Newman, 2019; Paoline, 2003; Reiner, 2017; Silver et al., 2017; Waegel, 1984). Officers do not fail to follow formal codes simply because they are unclear (Hunt and Manning, 1991; Terrill et al., 2003); they often view formal use‑of‑force rules as problematic (Worden and McLean, 2017) and rely on informal codes. Officers may frame and justify violence (Eisenberg, 2023; Jeursen, 2022; Westley, 1953) in ways that mirror street and honor cultures. Like service members, police develop cultures rooted in shared strains, isolation, peer dependence, hegemonic masculinity, and intergenerational transmission of attitudes (Bloom and Labovich, 2021; Dermikol, 2020; Dulin, 2020; Ingram et al., 2018; Rogers et al., 2022; Sanders et al., 2022; Waegel, 1984).
Military subculture and codes of violence
Research shows the military has distinct subcultural norms emphasizing obedience, risk‑taking, and dehumanization, all of which shape how violence is constructed (Greene et al., 2010). The military often functions as a total institution; 4 entry disrupts one’s sense of self through uprooting and mortifying experiences that resocialize members (Goffman, 1961; Soeters, 2018) into this subculture of hegemonic masculinity, toughness, self‑reliance, and aggression (De Volo and Hall, 2015)—especially during boot camp and academies (Maringira, 2016). 5 This subculture uses specialized language and symbols to reinforce hierarchy, which English (2004) calls the “the bedrock of military effectiveness” (p. 10), and cultivates traits needed for military occupations: a willingness to kill, self‑sacrifice, emotional distance from enemies, teamwork, loyalty, hardiness, and rapid life‑and‑death decision‑making (Do and Samuels, 2021; Grossman, 1995; Hoover Green, 2016; Sarkesian and Connor, 2006). These expectations form the “masculine‑warrior paradigm” or “battlemind” (Dunivin, 1994).
Many features of this subculture are problematic. Military institutions often foster a “macho‑violent” masculinity that valorizes violence and marginalizes peacefulness. Service members may recount violence in detached, analytic, or humorous terms to signal masculinity and cohesion (Andén‑Papadopoulos, 2009). The subculture is also steeped in traditions of Western sovereignty and colonialism that treat some lives as disposable—what Gregory (2004) calls the “colonial present”—which are maintained through everyday practices that label others as irredeemably Other and permit violence (p. 16). Nonconformity to subcultural norms may lead to the guilt of letting down one’s unit as well as coercion from officers and peers, effectively making participation “nonoptional” (Cooper et al., 2018: 159; Hockey, 2003; Welzer, 2008). Commanding officers shape unit culture by defining situations for subordinates and leveraging the military’s emphasis on obedience (Overy, 2014). Leaders can grant moral “permission” for acts otherwise unacceptable, fail to clarify required treatment of noncombatants and prisoners, or model violations themselves. Better officer leadership correlates with greater ROE compliance. However, many service members report that their Non-Commissioned Officers (NCOs) and officers did not clearly prohibit the mistreatment of noncombatants (Castro and McGurk, 2007). Building on work that violence carries different meanings for different audiences, our research examines how offenders manage audiences by committing violence in back regions and reframing it for front regions. We analyze how a military code of violence emerging from and reinforcing subcultural norms contributes to noncompliance with formal laws of war.
Materials and methods
In the aftermath of the Vietnam War, the Military Peace Movement (Leitz, 2011) began to emerge. The term refers to disparate groups of veterans reacting to the brutal experiences of war in the mid-20th century, particularly in Asia. These social movement organizations (SMOs) sought to persuade the American public that the war in Vietnam was “a neocolonial and racist intervention” (Lyons, 1998: 196) that served only the powerful. In doing so, such groups hoped to erode support for the Vietnam War (Cortright, 2005; Hunt, 1999; Nicosia, 2004). Veteran SMOs have continued to protest US military occupations in the ensuing decades (Decker and Paul, 2013; Leitz, 2011).
VVAW, IVAW, and the Winter Soldier investigations
VVAW, founded by six Vietnam veterans in 1967, grew to over a thousand members and organized veterans for antiwar protests and worked to expose the war’s brutality. VVAW was especially vocal after the military’s investigation of the My Lai massacre (see Kelman and Hamilton, 1989) and the subsequent claim that the civilian slaughter was a “unique and isolated incident” (Wilson, 2007). In response, VVAW organized the Winter Soldier Investigation. In 1971, hundreds of people packed into a ballroom in a Detroit motel to witness 118 veterans and 16 civilians narrate firsthand (either as participants or witnesses) accounts of murder, sexual assault, and the destruction of homes, crops, and livestock. Some showed slides and photos of weapons, abused corpses, tortured detainees, bombing victims, and infants deformed by chemical agents. The testimonies made it clear that My Lai was not isolated but reflected broader misconduct and a cover-up failure. The event was filmed and released in 1972 as Winter Soldier (available on YouTube). VVAW published a book of transcripts; Senator Mark Hatfield entered them into the Congressional Record, and Senator J William Fulbright discussed the event at the Fulbright Hearings (Hunt, 1999).
After Vietnam, the US military abolished the draft, shifted to an all‑volunteer force, implemented standardized ROE (Roach, 1983), and professionalized the armed forces (Nielson, 2010). Yet in 2004, IVAW formed, demanding the “immediate withdrawal of all occupying forces in Iraq,” “reparations for the human and structural damages Iraq has suffered and stopping the corporate pillaging of Iraq so that their people can control their own lives and future,” and “adequate healthcare (including mental health), and other support for returning servicemen and women” (www.ivaw.org/about). IVAW also called for the prosecution of Bush administration members as war criminals and opposed Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell and the occupation of Gaza.
IVAW sought to turn the American public against the Iraq War by highlighting how the “degrading forces of war and occupation . . . dehumanize and destroy . . . human beings” (IVAW and Glantz, 2008: 3). Inspired by VVAW, IVAW organized Winter Soldier, Iraq and Afghanistan, in March 2008, where 55 veterans testified to injustices they had witnessed or committed in Iraq and Afghanistan: killing civilians, torturing prisoners, looting, and mishandling the dead. Some speakers presented photos or videos of alleged war crimes, including graphic images of dead bodies. IVAW published 44 transcripts in Winter Soldier Iraq and Afghanistan: Eyewitness Accounts of the Occupation and posted event videos on YouTube and its website. IVAW members also testified before the Congressional Progressive Caucus; that testimony aired on C‑SPAN.
The incidents of violence that members of IVAW and VVAW recounted varied considerably. Some acts of violence occurred in ambiguous contexts that made it difficult to determine if an individual was an innocent civilian or an enemy combatant. In other scenarios, service members recounted violence that could not be justified with even the most liberal interpretation of the formal guidelines of warfare, such as when service members recounted intentionally killing innocent civilians, including children.
Transcript analysis
To conduct our analysis, the first author 6 examined both the VVAW Winter Soldier event transcripts and the IVAW Winter Soldier event transcripts. The first author identified 137 named testifiers at the VVAW Winter Soldier event: 16 civilians, 80 soldiers, 39 Marines, and 2 sailors. 7 Five of the veterans were military doctors. The ages of 101 of the veterans were included. No explanation was provided for why not all the ages of veterans were given. The ages of the 101 veterans ranged from 20 to 37. The average age was 23. Eighty‑three individuals spoke at the IVAW Winter Soldier event: 52 veterans, 16 civilians from Iraq or Afghanistan, 8 parents of deceased veterans (killed in action or who died by suicide after deployment), and 7 activists, writers, or scholars. Of the 52 veterans, 34 were soldiers, 15 Marines, 2 sailors, and 1 Coast Guard member. Ages documented in the Winter Soldier book ranged from 21 to 42, with an average age of 26. While all the testimonies from both events were analyzed, not all of the accounts concerned topics relevant to this article, as the events were organized to discuss a variety of topics relevant to the war. Of the 121 service members who testified at the VVAW Winter Soldier event, 37, or about 30% of them, spoke about topics that were relevant to our research. Of the 52 service members who testified at the IVAW Winter Soldier event, 16, or 30% of them, spoke about topics relevant to our research. In both cases, members who spoke about relevant topics often made multiple statements that were relevant to our research.
Although VVAW and IVAW include women, all testimonies analyzed here are from male members. Most VVAW testifiers were male, except for a medical doctor captured in Hue in 1968 and the mother and sister of a US prisoner of war (POW) in North Vietnam and a member of the American Friends Service Committee. The three women who testified did not speak on topics relevant to this article. At the IVAW event, 22 women testified: 8 veterans, 9 civilians, 3 parents, and 2 scholars/activists, but none spoke on the ROE panel or provided testimony pertinent to this article.
This male predominance reflects combat demographics in Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan. An estimated 11,000 women volunteered to serve in Vietnam, mostly as nurses or in administrative roles, and were not assigned combat roles (Lange, 2023). Women’s participation in the armed forces rose after the draft ended in 1973 and the military shifted to an all‑volunteer force, a change that affected many aspects of the armed forces (Congressional Budget Office, 2007) and coincided with increased female enlistment as force size shrank (Patten and Parker, 2011). By 2010, women comprised roughly 16% of officers and 14% of enlisted personnel (Patten and Parker, 2011). The Iraq War (2003–2011) prompted policy shifts that reduced barriers to women serving in combat (Buckley and Thompson, 2021), yet men remained the vast majority in combat roles.
We used a historical comparative analysis, which Skocpol and Somers (1980) refer to as a “comparative history as the parallel demonstration of theory” (p. 176), to identify elements common across cases rather than contrasts. As they note, the point is to assert similarity in the applicability of the overall theoretical arguments (p. 177). For this study, we compared the social construction of violence in two US military eras: the Vietnam War (prestandardized ROE) and the Iraq/Afghanistan wars (poststandardized ROE) (Frost-Nielsen, 2018; Roach, 1983; Sandvik, 2014). 8 We chose two archival sets that documented parallel events, where service members publicly voiced grievances and accounts of violence. IVAW modeled its event on VVAW, addressing comparable concerns and formats. Despite military reforms and different geographic and political‑economic contexts, testimonies showed strikingly similar constructions of violence in front and back regions, suggesting the military subculture and the code of violence remained largely consistent between the two conflicts. 9
We applied grounded theory to understand how service members make sense of violating or complying with laws of war—an approach suited to explaining processes when data are hard to access (Glaser, 1998; Glaser and Strauss, 1967; Miller, 2015). The first author read both transcript sets, noted recurring compliance concerns, and used open coding and memoing to identify provisional themes where service members discussed laws of war, noncompliance, violence, and the military subculture (Strauss and Corbin, 1998).
Memos focused on how service members made sense of violence, including their stated motivations, reactions, and emotions to the use of force. More specifically, because the analysis focused on how service members made sense of noncompliance, the first author focused exclusively on excerpts in which veterans specifically stated motivations for their noncompliance or the noncompliance of others. Memos focused on veterans’ own acts of violence as well as violence they witnessed and noted whether others were present and if other service members or officers discouraged, encouraged, or ignored the acts. Memos also noted any concern about complying with laws of war or ROE, general views on the laws of war and ROE, and any deception when reporting violent acts to journalists, peers, or in combat reports. Noncompliance with the laws of war included destroying homes, firing into civilian housing or religious buildings, and mutilating corpses, though most involved harming or killing civilians.
The first author then clustered memos and quotes on complaints about the laws of war, commanding officers’ influence, noncompliance, deception about violence, and how service members made sense of violence. The memos originally identified nine meanings attached to violence: boredom, games/entertainment, fun, revenge, hatred, anger, trophies, showing off, and gaining respect. Memos showed service members were highly critical of the laws of war and ROE and were often deceptive in field reports and with the media and that officers were frequently indifferent to, or even encouraged, violence and deception. At the same time, service members were often candid with peers and frequently bragged about violent acts. Because violence seemed linked to the military subculture, axial coding (Strauss and Corbin, 1998) was then used to clarify the links between the two.
The nine open‑coded meanings were collapsed into three themes. A coding scheme was developed to identify instances of these three themes. Violence for fun included violence linked to boredom, games/entertainment, and fun. Accounts of noncompliance with the laws of war that included the words “game,” “play,” “joke,” “contests,” “for kicks,” “boredom,” “laughing,” “cheering,” “enjoy,” and “excited,” as well as accounts of violence for amusement or accounts of tricking children into getting injured or killed, were coded as violence for fun. Violence to express anger grouped cases concerning anger, revenge, and hatred. Incidents mentioning “anger,” “hatred,” “holding a grudge,” “revenge,” “embittered,” “hardened,” “mad,” or “taking out aggression” were coded as anger‑driven. Violence for status included accounts of taking trophies, showing off, and gaining respect. Accounts for noncompliance that included taking or displaying body parts, posing with corpses, bragging about kills, using symbols to demonstrate body counts, receiving congratulations for kills, and gaining acceptance through killing (often signaled by words like “trophy,” “body count,” or “club”) were coded as violence for status.
The VVAW Winter Soldier transcript contains 10 mentions of violence for status, 7 for anger, and 29 for fun. The IVAW transcript contains 8 mentions of violence for status, 8 for anger, and 15 for fun. All three themes included both retellings of specific incidents of violence as well as reporting general patterns of violence. Therefore, the tallies refer not to a specific number of instances of violence but instead to instances in which service members attributed meaning to violence. For instance, the following statement by Mackay of VVAW about an ongoing pattern was coded as violence for fun: One kind of joke that went between the pilots was if they fired or not, upon anybody they saw, it was whether they waved or not. This was a kind of joke going between the pilots, but it didn’t count, because they just shot anything they saw, any structures.
Because witnesses reported patterns, we cannot determine how often such events occurred or how many individuals or units engaged in them. In other words, we do not quantify the frequency of noncompliance, the percentage of service members who are perpetrators, or the representativeness of Winter Soldier testifiers. Instead, our analysis identifies and explores three recurring testimonial themes (violence for fun, for anger, and for status) across the VVAW and IVAW accounts from Vietnam and Iraq.
When service members gave accounts of violence that reflected more than one theme, the first author coded the account as an example of each of the themes. For instance, the following excerpt was coded as both violence for fun and violence to express anger: We’d be holed up in houses for a few hours and maybe a day or two and we’d get bored. We’d get angry and be like, “Let’s break stuff.” We ran out of people to shoot, so we turned to dogs and cats, chickens, whatever’s moving.
There were also many instances in which service members recounted violence without applying any meaning to it. These instances were not included in the tallies for specific themes, as the analysis focused solely on how service members make sense of noncompliance. Interpreting service members’ motivations for noncompliance in scenarios in which they did not directly state such motivations risks an interpretive bias. However, these instances were still considered relevant to our research when they documented service members violating the laws of war, or filling out false combat reports, or officers’ reactions to violence. The example below is an instance of an account of violence in which the veteran did not apply any meaning to the use of violence but did note that his officers took part in violence that violated the laws of war: [W]e were about 5 miles down the road, where there were some Vietnamese children at the gateway of the village, and they gave the old finger gesture at us. It was understandable that they picked this up from the GIs there. They stopped the trucks—they didn’t stop the truck, they slowed down a little bit, and it was just like response, the guys got up, including the lieutenants, and just blew all the kids away. There were about five or six kids blown away and then the truck just continued down the hill. That was my first day in Vietnam.
While it could be inferred that the service members felt angry at the children, because the veteran did not overtly attribute anger or any other meaning to the violence, this example is not included in the tallies of any of the three themes identified. It is, however, an example that was included in a memo to inform our understanding of the role of officers in noncompliance with the laws of war.
Similarly, the following quote by McCusker of VVAW was not coded, as no meaning was attributed to the violence, but it was noted in memos as an example of deception concerning the use of violence in Vietnam: “Over the next hedge row there were thirty dead children . . . An officer, a captain walked up to me and said, “Well Sgt. McCusker,”—remember I was the reporter—“do you see what the Viet Cong did to their own people?” And I said, “Captain, I saw our planes drop the napalm.” He says, “Well, Sgt. McCusker, you had better write that the Viet Cong did it.”
Examples such as these helped form our analysis of the front and back regions of war and the ways that service members performed for outsiders away from the front lines.
Our data set did not include any ambiguous cases in which coding decisions needed to be revisited and reevaluated. This is likely because the analysis focused on accounts in which veterans explained violence that they enacted or witnessed in their own words and did not include accounts of violence in which no clear meaning was identified by the veterans. Because the coding scheme was clearly defined, coding mostly consisted of identifying specific words and phrases, leaving little room for ambiguity.
Of the cases coded, it was not always clear if civilians had been hurt or killed by the violence of a service member. In some instances of violence that were coded or included in memos, the veterans made it clear that they were referring to violence against civilians. For instance, Eckert of VVAW stated, I was up in Quang Tri visiting a friend of mine who was on security, which is like a rat patrol. They go out in the little jeeps and patrol the perimeter . . . they spotted this old woman about—she looked about fifty but she was probably about twenty-five . . . from dusk to dawn there’s not supposed to be anybody out there, and if there is, you’re supposed to stop them, check them out, and eliminate them if you have to. So, these guys decided that they would kind of play a little game and they let her run about fifty yards, and they’d fire in front of her so she’d have to turn around, and then they’d let her run another direction and then they’d cut her off. This went on about a half hour . . . then they decided it best to eliminate her as soon as possible, so they just ripped her off right there, and then . . . the corporal that was in charge, he decided that they’d better check her out for an ID card just to be safe about it . . . she didn’t have anything. Her only crime was being out probably tending to her buffalo before the time she should have been. These guys just took it upon themselves to waste her.
In other cases, service members reported that they willingly violated the laws of war and were willing to kill or injure civilians but did not know for certain if their actions led to civilians being killed or injured. For instance, Duffy of VVAW stated, Also, I was flying tail gun at the time on one mission into HUE, and just for kicks, the pilot told me to spray a house with my M-16. I don’t know if the house was occupied, but the area was occupied by civilians. This was common policy. Kill anything you want to kill, any time you want to kill it, just don’t get caught.
This example was coded as violence for fun even though the service member did not know for certain if any noncombatants died.
In other cases, veterans noted that while they were in “free-fire zones,” or other similar scenarios in which they were permitted to shoot at will, they still believed that many of the individuals being killed were civilians. For instance, Hicks of IVAW stated, First item, April 2004, free-fire zone in the Abu Ghraib neighborhood of Baghdad: During Operation Blackjack, I was instructed by our troop commander, a captain, that one sector was now a free-fire zone. He told us there were “no friendlies in the area.” He said, “Game on. All weapons free.” . . . I did not fire my weapon on this operation, but other members of my unit embraced the weapons-free order by firing indiscriminately into occupied civilian vehicles and at civilians themselves . . . I swear until the day I die, I did not see one enemy on that operation. Judging from what I saw on the ground, the majority of those so-called KIAs were civilians attempting to flee the battlefield.
In these scenarios, while service members were technically allowed to engage, they indicated that their reasons for discharging their firearms may still have been influenced by the military subculture and its code of violence. For instance, Emanuele of IVAW stated, An act that took place quite often in Iraq was taking pot shots at cars that drove by. This was quite easy for most Marines to get away with because our Rules of Engagement stated that the town of al-Qaim had already been forewarned and knew to pull their cars to a complete stop when approaching a United States convoy.
While ROE and other laws of war are generally concerned with violence using firearms, the transcripts contained several examples of service members killing or hurting civilians that did not involve weaponry. They were especially likely to involve hurting or killing children by tricking them into eating toxic substances, such as trioxylene heat tabs, or causing them to get run over by vehicles. These examples were coded as well, although they did not involve firearms.
The first author coded transcripts for instances where commanding officers encouraged, participated in, or ignored violations of the laws of war, and for episodes of lying, hiding, or concealing information about such violence. These instances informed the front and back-region analysis and included specific incidents as well as statements about general patterns. In VVAW transcripts, officers were cited as encouraging/participating/ignoring violations 24 times and deception in combat reports or with the media 26 times. In IVAW transcripts, those counts were 15 and 12, respectively. Using memos on criticism of the laws of war, noncompliance, officer influence, deception, and the three violence themes (status, anger, and fun), and guided by literature on the military subculture, front and back regions, and the construction of violence, we concluded that where commanders prioritized the military subculture’s code over formal law, service members presented compliance in front regions but engaged in illegal violence in back regions.
Analysis and results
Upon deployment, service members quickly learned that there were two spheres of war—the front region and the back region. While Goffman originally defined front regions by the presence of an audience and back regions by the absence of an audience and emphasized physical structures that acted as barriers between these regions, differentiating between front and back regions was more complex and fluid for service members at war. Front regions involved areas with a relevant audience. Audiences that were relevant to the service members did not simply include those who were physically present. Some individuals who were physically present, such as other service members, were relevant to them, while other individuals—often civilians who had been othered—were not seen as a relevant audience.
At times, audiences who were not physically present but were virtually present were relevant to service members. Gazit and Ben-Ari (2017) echo Goffman’s (1959) work on unseen audiences and refer to such audiences as “imagined audiences” and explain that, within military occupations, some audiences “are imagined and provide trans-situational dynamics” (p. 7). For instance, when members of the media were present, they not only served as an audience, but they also served as a medium for an imagined audience—any individual who could potentially witness the actions of the service members indirectly through their reporting. Military reports also acted as a medium to an audience. Service members were aware that military officials would read such reports, making them an imagined audience to the behaviors that were documented in the reports. Back regions of war were areas in which there were no relevant audience members physically present or imagined. In these scenarios, either the individual acting was alone or they were acting with team members—typically other service members.
Consequently, both members of IVAW and VVAW stated that they were careful to comply with the laws of war when they were in the presence of journalists and framed their behavior as compliant with the laws of war when filling out official reports. 10 Jon Turner of IVAW stated, “Anytime we did have embedded reporters with us, our actions changed drastically. We never acted the same. We were always on key with everything, did everything by the book” (p. 26). Similarly, Camille of VVAW said, “The main thing was that if an operation was covered by the press, there were certain things we weren’t supposed to do, but if there was no press there, it [violence] was okay” (Page 6 of 1st Marine Division, Part II). Service members demonstrated a clear awareness that journalists served as a medium to the outside audience of the civilian population back home.
However, while service members portrayed themselves as following the laws of war in front regions, within back regions of war, noncompliance was common. Both VVAW and IVAW stated that this was due in part to the lack of clarity of the formal laws of war, which did not reflect the lived realities of war and therefore were of little help in guiding actual behavior. In short, service members found the laws of war ambiguous and unenforceable. VVAW members, fighting in the prestandardization of ROE era, stated that they were not given clear, meaningful guidelines and that they were more or less allowed to do whatever they wanted. As Sachs of VVAW stated, We’d never had any instructions in the Geneva Convention. When we were given our Geneva Convention cards the lecture consisted of “If you’re taken prisoner, all you gotta do is give ‘em your name, rank, serial number, and date of birth. Here’s your Geneva Convention cards. Go get ‘em, Marines.” We were never told anything about the way to treat prisoners if we were the capturers rather than the captee and this was very standard. (Page 4 of 1st Marine Division, Part II)
The lack of guidance from authorities higher in the chain of command meant that service members had to resolve questions about the use of force themselves. As such, the unit-level codes of violence were often the primary source for guidance around the use of force.
For members of IVAW, ROE had been their primary guideline for the use of force, though like the members of VVAW, they also stated that they found these instructions to be ambiguous and unenforceable. IVAW specifically included a panel on ROE in which members criticized ROE for being unclear and constantly changing. Lemeiux of IVAW explained, In general, the Rules of Engagement changed frequently and were contradictory. When they were restrictive, they were loosely enforced. Shootings of civilians that were known were not reported because Marines did not want to send their brothers-in-arms to prison when all they were trying to do was protect themselves in a situation they’d been forced into. With no way to identify their attackers, and no clear mission worth dying for, Marines viewed the Rules of Engagement as either a joke or a technicality to be worked around so that they could bring each other home alive. Not only are the misuses of the Rules of Engagement in Iraq indicative of supreme strategic incompetence, they are also a moral disgrace. The people who set them should be ashamed of themselves, and they’re just one of the many reasons why the troops should be withdrawn from Iraq immediately. (IVAW and Glantz, 2008: 19)
Expanding on the frequent revisions of ROE, IVAW soldier Adam Kokesh stated, “we changed Rules of Engagement more often than we changed our underwear” (IVAW and Glantz, 2008: 42). Similarly, Laituri of IVAW stated, My unit got moved around a lot. The Rules of Engagement would change. First of all, they were mostly verbal. We were never given ROE cards. When Adam Kokesh flashed one in front of everybody this morning, that was the first time I saw one. I didn’t think they existed. So, we never got any concrete ROE that defined our missions, and what our levels of aggression were allowed to be. We were told there were five S’s: Signal, shout, show, shove, shoot, and that was our ROE. (IVAW and Glantz, 2008: 52)
These quotes demonstrate that for many service members, formal military guidelines were mercurial and disconnected from the real-time threats in the field. In both VVAW and IVAW, service members reported having to sort out when and where to use violence without any clear guidance from above, and the codes of violence valued by their units played a significant role in their decision-making.
However, while the laws of war were no doubt unclear and ambiguous in both eras, the testimonies from VVAW and IVAW members reveal that service members chose not to follow the laws of war in many cases when it was clear that they were not in danger and the individuals they were targeting were innocent civilians. In these cases, service members did not violate the laws of war because they were confused about what they were allowed to do or because it was unclear if an individual was an innocent civilian or a combatant.
Service members’ narratives indicate that the military subculture provided service members with an alternative code of violence, in which they are allowed and even encouraged to respond violently in a much wider range of scenarios than the formal laws of war allowed. In many cases, violence that is not compliant with the formal laws of war is still compliant with the code of violence shaped by the military subculture.
Consistent with previous research (Pennekamp, 2013), we found that commanding officers play an important role in influencing service members’ use of force. The VVAW and IVAW members’ testimonies demonstrated that many of their commanding officers emphasized the military subculture’s code of violence over the laws of war. For instance, Kenneth Ruth of VVAW recounted the following interaction with his commanding officer: What you do is you test-fire your weapons, just shoot ‘em off for about two minutes or so into the distance. Well, we were told one day that we had to test-fire our weapons and be prepared to do it. Well, many of us knew that on the other side of these bushes, out in front of us, was a whole village of people, and that if we did test-fire our weapons, those people would be in jeopardy. So, I approached the platoon leader and the platoon sergeant and told them this—that there were civilians on the other side of the village beyond the bushes. I was told first of all by the platoon leader that he just didn’t care, and when I told the platoon sergeant about it, he said he’d shoot a Montagnard as fast as he would a Cong. (page 2 of 1st Air Cavalry Division, Part II)
Similarly, Jason Wayne Lemieux of IVAW stated the following: In January 2004, I remember attending a formation where we were given our mission for the second deployment. I was sitting there like a good marine with my pen and paper, and our commander told us that our mission was “to kill those who needed to be killed and save those who need to be saved.” That was it. With those words, he set the tone for the deployment. (IVAW and Glantz, 2008: 17)
Jon Turner stated that after intentionally killing an innocent civilian, his company commander congratulated him: We were all congratulated after we had our first kills, and that happened to have been mine. My company commander personally congratulated me, as he did everyone else in our company. This is the same individual who had stated that whoever gets their first kill by stabbing them to death will get a four-day pass when we return from Iraq. (IVAW and Glantz, 2008: 25)
These statements suggest that commanding officers play an important role in socializing service members in making sense of both the laws of war and the military subculture.
When officers seemingly disregard laws of war, service members may feel that they have been given permission to use the military subculture as a guide for violence instead. Furthermore, these statements demonstrate that commanding officers did not suggest an informal code of violence because service members found themselves in ambiguous scenarios that made it difficult to comply with the formal laws of war. In many situations that were not ambiguous or unclear, commanding officers still encouraged service members to disregard the formal laws of war and use the subcultural code of violence to guide their behavior.
Military subculture and the code of violence
The testimonies of IVAW and VVAW members demonstrate that the military subculture presented service members with a code of violence that deemed violence to be an appropriate response in a much larger range of circumstances than the formal laws of war. More specifically, service members were allowed and even encouraged to use violence to express anger, gain status, and to have fun when in the back regions of war.
Violence to express anger
The military subculture constructed violence as an acceptable way of expressing anger, including violence used to process the deaths of wartime friends. Grossman (1995) states that many service members “react with anger (which is one of the well-known response stages to death and dying)” (p. 194) when friends are killed. These findings are consistent with Gazit and Ben-Ari’s (2017) statement that during occupations, many violent acts against civilians are due to anger rather than strategic planning. This is also congruent with Katz’s (1988) more general finding that violence often takes place because perpetrators feel that they are righting a wrong or punishing an immoral act. Similarly, Graham and Wells (2003) list both addressing grievances and expressing emotions as general explanations for violent behavior. Schulte et al. (1994) show that self-righteous rage can lead to violence as a form of revenge or punishment. Both IVAW and VVAW members stated that casualties led service members to become more aggressive and more willing to take part in violence. For instance, McCusker of VVAW stated, It was in a pineapple forest and a Marine had just been killed. He had been hit by a sniper and the entire battalion, in revenge, destroyed two entire villages, wiping out everything living, the people (and that was men, women, their children) all their livestock, burning the huts, destroying the paddies, their gardens, their hedgerows, just wiped them out—erased them. (Page 2 of Miscellaneous Panel Part I)
Similarly, Duffy of VVAW made the following testimony: On one operation, I was flying an LZ [landing zone]. We took fire when a round hit one of our fuel pods and one of the jobs of a crew member is also to pull maintenance on the ship—and the more maintenance you have to pull the less flying time and the less flying time and the less chance you get to kill gooks because that’s the mental attitude that the army forces you into. So we were kind of mad that we had taken a round in the fuel pod, so after leaving the LZ we requested the pilot fly over the area we had taken the round from so we could get whoever it was that had fired at us. We were all pretty uptight about it, and as soon as we left the LZ, I noticed contingent of Vietnamese peasants chopping wood and I decided, well, if the Vietnamese can fire a round into my ship, then I can fire as many rounds into the Vietnamese as I want. (Page 4 of 1st Cavalry Division, Part II)
In addition, Turner of IVAW made the following statement before showing a video of heavy gunfire: I’m going to show you a video of the Fatimid mosque minaret. It is riddled with bullet holes. The holes in the top of it were from mortars. A tank round went into the minaret even though we weren’t sure if we were taking fire. It is illegal to shoot into a mosque unless you are taking fire from it. There was no fire that was taken from that mosque. It was shot into because we were angry. (IVAW and Glantz, 2008: 26)
In these examples, service members did not find themselves in ambiguous situations that made it unclear how to comply with the formal laws of war. Rather, the military subculture allowed service members facing the grief, fear, and anger that always accompany combat to externalize those feelings in back regions, even though these behaviors violated the formal laws of war.
Gaining status
Service members also used violence to communicate to other unit members that they were worthy of insider status. Such violence was not necessarily linked to any missions or military objectives and occurred when the performer acted aggressively toward a target to send a message to other service members that they were capable of violence and belonged in the unit. In these instances, service members were proud of their capabilities of violence and often wanted to be recognized by other service members for their killings. Previous scholarship has demonstrated that within some cultures, violence is linked to status (Anderson et al., 2009) and is a way to prove masculinity (Gazit and Ben-Ari, 2017). Other research finds that some individuals may find violence to be an integral aspect of their identity (Katz, 1988) and enjoy a sense of notoriety earned by violent acts (Athens, 1989).
In some instances, service members discussed killing individuals as a sort of initiation into the group. Furthermore, the more individuals one killed, the more status one gained. For instance, Ryan Endicott of IVAW described killing as a way to gain membership in a club, recounting the following: I knew my time had come. As I laughed, I ran, this was everything I had hoped for. My chance to kill. I didn’t care how or who, but someone was going to die today, and I was going to be a part of the gun club, which I so cherished. From that moment forward, our efforts became more intense, we began getting intelligence of suspected terrorist safe houses, weapons caches, we would gear up, pump our death metal and pump each other up comparing body counts, telling each other, “It’s only a matter of time before we get another.” (Iraq Veterans Against the War, n.d.)
In this quote, Endicott demonstrates that one potential reward for violence outside of military objectives was insider status and recognition from other members in their unit.
Because killing individuals provided status, many service members collected various forms of trophies. Such items allowed soldiers to demonstrate their capacity for violence to those who had not been present at a particular altercation. This meant collecting identification cards, taking photos with corpses, and collecting body parts. Scott Camile of VVAW explained, When we killed someone, you plant an ace of spades on him and you’d pose with the body because it was something really cool to do, to show everybody how many people you’d killed. (Page 10 of 1st Marie Division, Part IV)
Similarly, Joseph Galbally of VVAW stated, There was an individual . . . Any time that he had a prisoner that nobody in the room wanted, this guy would take his ID card and tell him to “Di Mau” which is “run” in Vietnamese. The guy would get about ten feet, and get a full burst of automatic, with is 20 rounds, in the back . . . he had at least five or six ID cards also. He was, I guess, more or less proud of the fact that he was the hatchet man and was all the time showing everybody the ID cards. “Look where I got this guy and, how about this, and look at this.” (Page 8 of Miscellaneous Panel, Part I)
While killing noncombatants was a clear violation of the laws of war, for some service members, the status within the military subculture that came with the cold-blooded, indiscriminate killing of noncombatants in back regions of war was a crucial part of their war experience.
Violence for fun
At times, soldiers in VVAW and IVAW also framed violence as entertainment. Service members frequently discussed taking part in violent actions because it was fun and described their violent encounters as games, competitions, shows, or entertainment. These findings are consistent with previous research demonstrating that individuals take part in violence for fun in a variety of settings (Collins, 2008; Katz, 1988), particularly bar brawls (Burns, 1980; Dyck, 1980; Graham and Wells, 2003; Marsh and Kibby, 1992). Research by Gazit and Ben-Ari (2017) demonstrates that this includes soldiers who take part in noncombat violence for entertainment. For instance, Scott Camile of VVAW described destroying houses as the basis of a game: The calling in of artillery for games, the way it was worked would be the mortar forward observers would pick out certain houses in villages, friendly villages, and the mortar forward observers would call in mortars until they destroyed that house and whoever used the least amount of artillery, they won. And when we got back someone would have to buy someone else beers. (Page 5 of 1st Marine Division, Part II)
Service members at the IVAW Winter Soldier reported similar strategies for turning violence into entertainment. For instance, Clifton Hicks and Steven Casey of IVAW gave an account of an airstrike in a heavily populated civilian area. Hicks stated, There were a handful of enemy fighters who tried to kill Americans out of these apartment buildings, but they were also just regular apartment buildings occupied by families. People were out on the balconies getting fresh air. There was laundry hanging off every balcony. The place was heavily populated. Besides having a handful of people with rifles who didn’t really know how to shoot them and a handful of people who spotted for mortars, it was packed full of innocent families, and it was in no way a legitimate military target. But one day the squadron commander, who was a lieutenant colonel, rode by in his personal Humvee, and they shot at him. So the command went around and told everybody that at ten o’clock that night they were gonna put on a show for us. So this AC-130 showed up and didn’t just strafe or shoot a few rounds here and there; it approached and launched sustained attack on those buildings.
Casey added, I have video footage of the air strike itself, and the most disturbing part was the parties on the rooftops. Our roofs were set up in a semicircle around this post, and in building after building everyone was told to grab their chairs and popcorn and jerky and go on top and watch this thing go down. I was there. I probably hooped and hollered as well. There are higher-up NCOs on the video saying, “Can you hear haji die?” “We don’t have zone five anymore because they just blew the shit out of it.” And lots of cheering. You know there are civilians there. (IVAW and Glantz, 2008: 33)
In these scenarios, service members are clear that they are killing innocent civilians and not complying with the formal laws of war. In destroying homes and killing civilians, service members in the back regions of war focus on the use of violence for fun, as permitted by the military subculture.
Discussion
We found two spheres of war—front and back regions—and that while service members presented themselves as following formal laws of war in front regions, in units where commanding officers privileged the military subculture’s code of violence, some service members engaged in back-region violence to gain status, express anger, and have fun. This pattern held both before and after ROE standardization. The similarity across Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan testimonies is compelling, given generational, geographic, and contextual differences. A disjuncture between front- and back-region rules facilitates civilian killings and needless destruction.
Our findings contribute to scholarship on front and back regions, audiences and codes of violence, and military subcultures. We refine Goffman’s (1959) account by suggesting that full-fledged subcultures can develop in back regions, complete with their own conduct codes that contradict front-stage rules. When such subcultures form, members perform for peers to secure belonging and demonstrate that they can be trusted to meet the subculture’s code of conduct, not just to perform competently on stage and keep secrets. These subcultures are most likely to develop where members depend heavily on one another for safety, spend much time together backstage, and perceive front-stage expectations as unrealistic, breeding collective resentment. 11
In developing its own code of violence, military subcultural expectations did more than expand scenarios judged fit for violence. The subculture also developed standards for violence that reinforced interdependence, strengthened bonds, and demonstrated solidarity between its members. Violence for status signaled reliability and belonging, which is crucial when survival depended on team members’ willingness to act aggressively. Given Grossman’s (1995) and Collins’ (2008) findings that many soldiers struggle to fire on enemies, demonstrating readiness to use violence reassured peers that one was dependable and merited inclusion and protection. Violence for fun reinforced bonds and signaled hardening (Andén‑Papadopoulos, 2009) and resilience, a crucial trait in the military (McGarry et al., 2015). Violence to express anger (often in response to a comrade’s death and performed with others present) operated as solidarity rituals directed at vulnerable scapegoats rather than the true perpetrators, making them acts of collective affirmation more than targeted revenge. 12
While prior work explains individual motives for violence such as fun (Burns, 1980; Dyck, 1980; Graham and Wells, 2003; Marsh and Kibby, 1992), anger or retaliation (Gazit and Ben‑Ari, 2017; Grossman, 1995; Katz, 1988), or identity change (Anderson et al., 2009; Athens, 1989; Katz, 1988), these acts also served subcultural purposes. Echoing Grossman (1995), we argue that group processes that motivate combat likely also motivate illegitimate violence.
Our findings also address criticisms that Collins’ microsociology understates group roles in maintaining and diffusing violent techniques (Cooney, 2009; Magaudda, 2011; Thomas, 2022) by showing how subcultures supply both the code and the audience/cooffenders needed to meet microsituational conditions for violence and create enthusiastic audiences. Shared codes of violence do not directly bypass ct/f but increase the likelihood that a would-be offender will be supported by cooffenders or an approving audience and thereby enable targeting vulnerable victims, one of Collins’ primary ct/f circumvention methods. Because our subjects were socialized into the same subculture, they often found support for violence consistent with that code, explaining how individuals become part of an encouraging audience.
Importantly, much of the illegitimate violence we found followed a subcultural code and was intentional rather than merely the product of “new warfare” ambiguity. Veterans repeatedly stated that the laws of war and ROE were ambiguous, and some wrongful killings undoubtedly result from misidentification. Yet numerous Winter Soldier testimonies describe deliberate killings of noncombatants to express anger, have fun, or gain status. To be blunt, we maintain that service members who intentionally killed small children for making obscene gestures, an old woman tending her water buffalo, or peasants chopping wood were not confused about whether these individuals were combatants or whether the laws of war allowed them to kill them. Under Collins’ logic, the victims’ vulnerability made them easier targets. That said, new warfare likely contributes in multiple ways: service members may become desensitized to shooting people who resemble civilians, unclear ROE can produce exasperation and resentment toward authorities, pushing members to rely on back-region subcultures; and front-stage audiences expect some combatants to masquerade as civilians, making it easier to frame noncompliance as legitimate.
Conclusion
Our research has limitations. It draws solely on IVAW and VVAW testimonies—organizations committed to ending US wars. Not only might IVAW and VVAW members be motivated to emphasize the killings of noncombatants, as it is consistent with the goals of their SMOs, but also, it is possible that because IVAW is modeled off VVAW, and the IVAW Winter Soldier event was modeled off the VVAW Winter Soldier event, that members of IVAW modeled their discussions of violence off VVAW members’ discussions of acts of violence. In other words, it is possible that the similarities we found between the accounts of two generations of veterans are because they are members of similar organizations. The research on collective memory shows that collective memories are crucial for group identity formation and that memories may be filtered through social frameworks (Alexander et al., 2004; Assmann, 2011; Halbwachs, 1992; Hirschberger, 2018; Hirst et al., 2018). Memories may be influenced by group identities and objectives (Schwartz, 1991; Wertsch, 2002). Events that are compatible with group identities are highlighted and commemorated, while events that contradict group identities may be minimalized or reframed (Connerton, 1989; Hirst et al., 2018; Nora, 1989).
The organizers of the initial Winter Soldier event had the overt goal of creating a narrative to contest the claims of state actors who sought to paint the conflict in Vietnam in a positive light. The members of IVAW had similar goals concerning the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. It is likely that the IVAW Winter Soldier event was overtly modeled on the VVAW Winter Soldier event because that event was effective at creating powerful narratives that shaped collective memory in the public sphere. Our research does not indicate to what degree individual members of IVAW made themselves familiar with the testimonies of veterans at the VVAW Winter Soldier event or if they consciously modeled their own testimonies off them. The similarities in how service members of the two generations framed their violence may indicate that IVAW members found the narratives of VVAW useful for meeting their objectives as well (Kubal and Becerra, 2014). However, the similarities in testimonies may also suggest that both generations of service members endured similar experiences while at war and made sense of those experiences in similar ways.
As a result, we find it likely that ongoing military subcultural practices, widely documented for decades (Andén‑Papadopoulos, 2009; Sarkesian and Connor, 2006; Cooper et al., 2018; Do and Samuels, 2021; Dunivin, 1994; Greene et al., 2010; Grossman, 1995; Hockey, 2003; Hoover Green, 2016; Janowitz, 1960; Gregory, 2004; Welzer, 2008), influenced both sets of service members. In addition, our work is consistent with Turse’s (2012) work on violence toward noncombatants in the Vietnam War, which is based on interviews with both veterans who took part in the peace movement and veterans who did not, in addition to extensive archival research that included Pentagon files, military records, and court-martial evidence. Turse’s (2012) work demonstrates that both veterans involved in the peace movement and veterans who were not involved in the peace movement gave similar accounts concerning the violence aimed at noncombatants.
Furthermore, we cannot assess the prevalence or frequency of violations, and our analysis focuses on meso‑level dynamics without examining micro factors (personal morality) or macro factors (global conflict structures). We cannot fully engage with the overwhelming brutality detailed by Grossman (1995) and Collins (2008), which no doubt has profound effects on one’s psyche and behavior. Put another way, there may be factors external to the military subcultural codes of behavior that shape or influence violations of the laws of war. In addition, because there were no testimonies from female service members, our ability to engage in a comparative gender analysis (or an analysis of women’s perspectives on violations of the laws of war) is nonexistent.
However, recent events indicate that understanding violations of the formal laws of war remains important. When a United States Secretary of War overtly states that the goal of conflict is “maximum lethality” and describes legality as “tepid” (Abebe, 2026), the need to understand what facilitates and undermines service members’ adherence to the laws of war is fundamentally important. Prior work shows many service members find ROE inadequate (Pennekamp, 2013) and that the military subculture fosters a masculine warrior ideal that dehumanizes opponents and civilians (Andén‑Papadopoulos, 2009; Greene et al., 2010), with variation by unit leadership (Pennekamp, 2013). However, research has not fully examined conflicts between formal guidelines and subcultural norms in shaping violence in back regions. Our findings indicate that one important aspect to consider is the role of commanders and back-region noncompliance.
Previous researchers have urged revising the laws of war, including ROE, to fit “new warfare” (Blank and Guiora, 2010) and called for more formal training to internalize legal norms (Morrow, 2007). Pennekamp (2013) recommends replacing prescriptive ROE with Standards of Engagement that specify desired outcomes while leaving contextual actions to soldiers and formally including counterinsurgency paradoxes (e.g. “Sometimes, the More Force Is Used, the Less Effective It Is”) (p. 1642) from the Counterinsurgency Field Manual. He also endorses judgment‑based training models used by law enforcement and realistic, scenario-based combat training to complement such standards (Pennekamp, 2013: 1642).
However, evidence that additional training ensures internalization and reduces noncompliance is mixed. Police research shows academy lessons against lying are often undermined by on-the-job resocialization (Hunt and Manning, 1991), and social‑interaction training improved attitudes but not behavior or use‑of‑force reports (McLean et al., 2020). Implicit bias and diversity training produce limited and inconsistent behavioral effects (Lai and Lisnek, 2023; Worden et al., 2024), which temper expectations for new ROE training in the military.
Some training examples, though, suggest positive effects. During Operation Restore Hope (Somalia, 1992–1993), US forces received mission‑specific ROE and scenario training and demonstrated stronger ROE understanding and application than Vietnam veterans (Frost‑Nielsen, 2018), supporting Pennekamp’s call for context‑sensitive rules and applied training. Commanding officers particularly need nuanced instruction to translate ROE from theory to practice (Meyer, 2013). Still, we argue that intentional killings to express anger, gain status, or for fun are not mere misinterpretations of ROE, and brief trainings are unlikely to override prolonged deployments in units that condone such violence. As Pennekamp (2013) acknowledges, standards are effective only insofar as soldiers are trusted with implementation (p. 1642). Thus, addressing subcultural incentives is necessary to reduce illegitimate violence that can be reframed as compliant in front‑region performances.
Future research should map how the military subculture varies across units, how constructions of violence differ, unit tolerance for war crimes, and the role of commanding officers in these dynamics. Such research might facilitate identifying how to alter subcultural drivers of illegitimate violence and to evaluate units that prioritize formal laws of war guidelines over subcultural codes to inform monitoring and interventions. Future researchers could also analyze additional data sources such as archival military records, court-martial documentation, or interviews with nonactivist veterans to examine the emergence and enactment of violence in the back regions of war. Interventions should target commanding officers, who shape unit culture and can prevent destructive leadership through stricter selection, promotion criteria, and fair complaints and intervention procedures (Fosse et al., 2019). Comparing private military contractors (PMCs) may also be instructive. PMCs subject to consistent oversight and incentives to respect human rights show fewer violations, whereas those with weak oversight and aggressive informal cultures show more (Fitzsimmons, 2013; Harrell, 2025; Penel and Petersohn, 2022; Petersohn, 2013; Radziszewski, 2023; Tkach, 2020).
Footnotes
Appendix 1
Rules of Engagement for US military forces in Iraq Issued by US Central Command Combined Forces Land Component Commander. A laminated card with the following text was distributed to all US Army and Marine personnel in Iraq.
Funding
The authors received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The authors declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
