Pentagon’s PFAS Cleanup Delays Fuel Bipartisan Fury – and a Reckoning

For decades, the U.S. Department of Defense has been the single largest known source of PFAS contamination in the country — a distinction that now carries a price tag in the billions and a growing bipartisan backlash. More than 700 military installations have confirmed or suspected releases of these “forever chemicals,” which are linked to low birth weight, certain cancers, and immune system suppression. But the Pentagon’s cleanup program is running years behind schedule, and lawmakers from both parties are demanding answers. The question is no longer if the contamination exists, but why the military is moving so slowly to address it — and who will pay for the damage.

This isn’t just a bureaucratic squabble. For communities near bases like Camp Lejeune, Peterson Air Force Base, or Fort Drum, the delay means toxic chemicals continue to seep into drinking water, soil, and even the food supply. And the costs are mounting: the Government Accountability Office recently estimated that a full cleanup of PFAS at military sites could exceed $31 billion. But the Pentagon has allocated only a fraction of that, and its own deadlines for completing initial assessments have been pushed back repeatedly. The growing anger in Congress reflects a recognition that this is a slow-motion environmental disaster — one that the military has, at best, mismanaged.

The Scope of the Problem: A Hidden Contamination Map

PFAS (per- and polyfluoroalkyl substances) are used in everything from firefighting foam to nonstick cookware. On military bases, the primary source is aqueous film-forming foam (AFFF), used extensively in training exercises and emergency responses. The chemicals don’t break down naturally — hence the nickname “forever chemicals.” They accumulate in the human body over time.

According to a 2023 Department of Defense report, at least 385 installations have known PFAS contamination that requires further investigation or cleanup. But the number is likely higher. The Pentagon’s own data shows that many bases have not yet conducted thorough testing, particularly in groundwater and off-base wells. The delay is partly due to evolving toxicity standards: the Environmental Protection Agency only recently proposed enforceable limits for PFAS in drinking water, and the Pentagon has struggled to keep pace with the regulatory shift.

What this means for you: if you live near a military base, there’s a real chance your drinking water contains PFAS. The EPA’s proposed limits are 4 parts per trillion for two of the most common compounds, but many communities have levels in the hundreds or thousands. The Pentagon’s slow cleanup means that contamination is likely to persist for years, increasing health risks for residents — especially pregnant women and children, who are most vulnerable to low birth weight and developmental effects.

Why the Delay? A History of Foot-Dragging

The Pentagon’s delays are not a new problem. Back in 2018, the DOD committed to completing initial assessments at all high-priority sites by 2024. That deadline has now been pushed to 2026. The GAO has repeatedly criticized the military for lacking a comprehensive plan, failing to coordinate with state and local regulators, and underestimating the scope of the contamination. In a 2024 report, the GAO found that the Pentagon had not even identified all potentially affected sites.

Part of the issue is funding. The DOD has requested between $1.5 billion and $2 billion per year for PFAS cleanup, but actual appropriations have been lower, and the Pentagon argues that new EPA standards will require even more resources. But critics say the military has been slow to spend even the money it has. A 2023 investigation by the Environmental Working Group found that the Pentagon had left hundreds of millions of dollars in allocated cleanup funds unspent.

There’s also a deeper structural problem: the military’s environmental cleanup program is decentralized. Each branch — Army, Navy, Air Force, Marine Corps — manages its own sites, and there’s little accountability for missed deadlines. The result is a patchwork of efforts, with some bases moving quickly while others do virtually nothing. This lack of coordination is a major reason why bipartisan anger is now boiling over.

This isn’t the first time the military has faced a massive environmental liability. The cleanup of Cold War-era nuclear waste at sites like Hanford and Rocky Flats took decades and cost tens of billions. PFAS is different — it’s more widespread, and it affects civilian water supplies directly. But the pattern of delay and denial is eerily familiar. As one senator put it during a recent hearing, “The Pentagon has a history of promising to clean up its messes and then dragging its feet. Communities are tired of waiting.”

What This Means for Communities Near Bases

For residents, the Pentagon’s delays have tangible consequences. Take the case of Colorado Springs, home to Peterson Space Force Base and Schriever Air Force Base. Testing has shown PFAS levels in groundwater hundreds of times above the proposed EPA limit. The city has had to install expensive filtration systems at public water wells, and private well owners are left to test their own water — often at their own expense. Home values in affected areas have dropped, and lawsuits against the military and AFFF manufacturers are piling up.

The situation is similar — and often worse — in rural areas, where residents rely on wells and have less access to alternative water supplies. In Ohio, communities near Wright-Patterson Air Force Base have been dealing with PFAS contamination for years. The state’s fight against toxic wastewater — as detailed in Ohio’s Toxic Wastewater Bubbling Up: Marietta’s Battle — shows how long it can take for government agencies to acknowledge and act on contamination. That same pattern of inaction is playing out at military bases across the country.

What can you do if you live near a base? First, check if your water supplier has tested for PFAS. The EPA’s public database can show results. If you’re on a private well, consider getting a test from a certified lab — though it can cost $300 or more. You can also contact your local health department or the military’s environmental coordinator. But the most effective step may be to pressure your elected officials to hold the Pentagon accountable. The bipartisan anger in Congress is real, but it needs to translate into funding and enforcement.

The Political Calculus Shifts

For years, PFAS was a niche issue, known mainly to environmental activists and communities directly affected. But that’s changed. In 2022, the EPA officially designated two PFAS compounds as hazardous substances under Superfund law, which gives the agency more power to force polluters — including the military — to clean up sites. The Pentagon opposed that designation, arguing it would be too costly and time-consuming. But the EPA moved forward anyway.

Now, lawmakers from both parties are piling on. Senator Shelley Moore Capito (R-WV) and Senator Tom Carper (D-DE) have co-sponsored legislation to provide more funding for PFAS cleanup and to require the Pentagon to meet specific deadlines. The House has held multiple hearings, and the Armed Services Committees in both chambers have included PFAS provisions in the annual defense authorization bill. The message is clear: the Pentagon’s foot-dragging is no longer acceptable.

This bipartisan pressure matters because it creates a rare moment of political alignment. In an era of deep partisan division, PFAS cleanup is one issue where Republicans and Democrats agree — the military should clean up its own mess. The question is whether the Pentagon will be forced to comply, or whether it will find ways to delay further. The smart money is on more pressure, not less. The 2024 election cycle will see PFAS become a campaign issue in districts with military bases, and no member of Congress wants to be seen as defending the status quo.

But there’s a catch: the Pentagon’s budget is already stretched thin by inflation, modernization programs, and global security commitments. Diverting billions to environmental cleanup could mean cuts elsewhere. However, the alternative — continuing to let communities suffer — is politically untenable. The Pentagon will likely have to find a way to fund the cleanup, even if it means delaying other projects.

For now, the clock is ticking. The EPA’s proposed PFAS drinking water rule is expected to be finalized later this year, which will force public water systems to start testing and, if necessary, treating for PFAS. The Pentagon will be under the same requirements. If the military fails to meet those deadlines, it could face fines, lawsuits, and even court orders. That’s a scenario the Pentagon wants to avoid — but given its track record, it’s not out of the question.

In the end, this is a story about accountability. The federal government created the contamination, and it has a responsibility to clean it up. The bipartisan anger now sweeping through Congress is a sign that the patience of communities — and their representatives — has run out. The Pentagon can no longer afford to treat PFAS as a secondary issue. The forever chemicals are here to stay, but the military’s excuses shouldn’t be.