Even though Frank Grun needed only five more years in the U.S. Air Force to qualify for a full pension, he quit because of the toll he felt the job was taking on him. He saw other men who were divorcing, drinking too much and getting depressed.

"I didn't want to be that guy," said Grun, who spent 15 years as a combat rescue crew member. After turning in his papers, he and his wife ended up in Portland, where he joined the Air Force reserves and began a second career as a cyber security expert with a large company. Although Grun made a good living, he missed what he called "the tribe," the men who'd served alongside him in combat.

In late 2015, he began hearing from his friends who'd stayed in the service and were retiring. They, too, found it hard adjust to civilian life. In early 2016, one of those men, a close friend, committed suicide.

"He was 44," Grun said. "A full major. A decorated combat helicopter pilot. It hit me like a ton of bricks. This was a guy we never thought would do something like this."

As a way to make sense of the loss, Grun set out to create a tribe. He started a Facebook page, invitation only, open to those who'd served in combat. Word quickly spread in the community. In time, the page had 1,400 members.

"I only let 10 percent of the people in who asked to join," Grun said. "I monitored every post before I put it up. I had only one rule: Say whatever you want, but it has to helpful."

Then a member committed suicide.

And then another.

And another

And another.

"In four months, I don't think I slept two hours straight," Grun said. "A message would pop up. If I saw something that worried me, I'd reach out to guys in the group. We'd send a guy to the door to talk with them, see how they were doing."

The group now has 2,100 members. There have been no suicides in 2017, Grun said. Late last week, the page received a request for someone in Florida to check on a man, adding he "really needs a buddy now." Within minutes, people responded to say they'd help.

In June, Grun received an email from Nate Quarry, a mixed martial artist he'd met years earlier when Quarry was part of a contingent of professional MMA fighters who went overseas to meet servicemen.

Quarry, who also lives in Portland, was troubled after listening to a podcast from Sebastian Junger, the author of "Tribe: One Homecoming and Belonging," which explored the experiences of veterans returning home.

"I've never been in the military, but their community is similar to the fight culture," Quarry said. "You have a coach, people on your team that you trust and you go into battle."

Quarry said he was shocked to learn that 22 veterans a day kill themselves in the United States. He wrote Grun, sent him a link to the podcast and wondered if there was anything to be done locally. By chance, Grun had finished reading the book two days earlier. The podcast made clear what Grun, and others, had experienced.

"When a member leaves the military, he leaves a support group," Grun said. "Dudes would help me paint the house. If I needed to move, they'd help. If my car was broken down, they'd fix it. I'd do the same for them. When people don't have a tribe, they bury their feelings. That's what was happening to these vets."

Two weeks ago, Grun reached out to Quarry and others to host a meeting at the Beaverton Community Center. Quarry served as a master of event called "VetSpeak." People who served, as well as those curious about the military life, were asked to attend.

"It was incredible," Quarry said. "Even with short notice, we had 15 people show up. What I came away with was the story of love these men have for each other."

Mark Browning spent 23 years in the U.S. Army, part of a family legacy. His grandfathers served in the Army during WW II. His mother was an Army nurse. Browning works with the Army's Portland recruiting and retention office, and teaches a military science program at Portland State University.

"The goal of this meeting was to give vets an uninterrupted and unjudged moment for them to talk about any experience that's important to them," Browning said. "I went through combat and saw some intense things. Even with close friends, it can be awkward for them to ask me questions, or have me talk about it."

Kurt Shrout, who served in the U.S. Marines, wanted to share his story of combat.

"There needs to be an avenue where veterans can discuss issues and problems," he said. "It's not about keeping a stiff upper lip. That's the worst thing that can happen."

But sharing requires vulnerability.

"There's a perception that military personnel are unintelligent, uneducated and have no other option in life," said Shrout, who has a bachelor degree in history. "We're not knuckle draggers. Give us a chance, and we'll share."

The point of the meeting, he said, was to renew the camaraderie of military service, to make connections locally where new friends could reach out to each other, just the way they did when they once wore a uniform.

Shrout also wanted to clear up a myth about military medals.

"The people awarded the highest honors don't look at them with an overwhelming sense of pride," he said. "They have a sense of loss. They're reminded of who didn't make it. Their best friends were killed next to them, but they still worked their asses off to save others."

Already, Grun said he's been asked by veterans in Washington, Las Vegas and Texas to come and hold a "Vets Speak" meeting. He's created an email, vetspeakHQ@gmail.com for those interested in joining the group, or in helping spread the message.

"The people active on the Facebook page see a need for this where they live," he said. Plans are underway to make it happen. The effort, he said, is a way to honor his friend, and others in the group, who had nowhere to turn when it was most bleak.

"This feels like a mission," Grun said. "It's never about me. It's about them. So that others may live."

--Tom Hallman Jr.

thallman@oregonian.com; 503 221-8224

@thallmanjr