America’s arsenal is running on fumes, folks, and it’s high time we face the hard truth about our dwindling weapons stockpiles.
Years of funneling arms into conflicts like Ukraine and the Middle East have drained our reserves, while domestic production struggles with labor disputes and capacity limits, leaving our national security in a precarious spot.
This isn’t a new problem, but it’s getting uglier by the day. The Foreign Policy Research Institute dropped a bombshell report recently, pointing out that supplying multiple wars at once has gutted our ammunition stores over time.
Take Ukraine, for instance, where a single artillery battery can burn through more U.S.-made 155mm shells in a day than some American units used during the entire Iraq War. Current production sits at a measly 40,000 shells a month, nowhere near enough to keep up with Kyiv’s appetite. The FPRI warns that Ukraine could blow through 100,000 shells in mere weeks if the pace doesn’t slow.
The U.S. Army has big plans to ramp up to 100,000 rounds a month by next summer, but that’s a long way off. Meanwhile, our own readiness hangs in the balance, and it’s not hard to see why some are questioning if we’re overextending ourselves.
Even President Trump, during a recent White House meeting with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, had to draw a line, refusing a request for Tomahawk missile transfers and suggesting the European Union pitch in on costs. “It’s beyond the money,” Trump said, emphasizing the strain on our resources. Well, he’s not wrong—charity starts at home, and our own shelves need restocking before we play global Santa Claus.
Then there’s the Middle East, where tensions have also taken a hefty toll. Before a recent peace deal, Iran’s missile barrages on Israel over 12 days slashed our global stockpile of Terminal High Altitude Area Defense interceptors by 15 to 20 percent. That’s a massive hit to our defensive capabilities, and rebuilding isn’t a quick fix.
President Trump himself underscored this concern, telling Zelenskyy and reporters, “I have an obligation also, though, to make sure that we’re completely stocked up as a country because you never know what’s going to happen in war and peace, right?” Hard to argue with that logic—our first duty is to protect our own, not just play world police.
Back on the home front, the Center for Strategic and International Studies estimated a couple of years back that if the Ukraine conflict drags into this year, it could take six full years to restore our ammo reserves to normal peacetime levels. And that’s assuming no other major conflicts pop off in the meantime. It’s a sobering reminder that endless foreign entanglements come with a steep price tag.
Compounding the issue, our defense industry is grappling with its own internal battles. Production bottlenecks aren’t just about raw numbers—they’re fueled by labor disputes between contractors and unions, as Politico has reported. Nearly 1,000 Lockheed Martin workers, who build critical missile components and surveillance systems, walked off the job earlier this year after failing to land a satisfactory contract.
These workers turned down a modest 3 to 4 percent raise, holding out for double-digit hikes to combat inflation’s bite. Add to that another 3,000 defense employees joining the strike, and you’ve got a recipe for stalled assembly lines.
Other sectors narrowly avoided disaster—2,500 workers building nuclear submarines reached a last-minute deal—but the tension lingers. Last fall, a seven-week walkout by 33,000 defense workers ended with a hefty 38 percent pay bump, showing just how much leverage labor holds right now.
Look, no one’s saying we shouldn’t support allies, but there’s a fine line between generosity and recklessness. When our own stockpiles are this thin, every shell or missile sent overseas is a gamble on our own safety. It’s not about isolationism; it’s about common sense.
The progressive push to keep pouring resources into every global hotspot often ignores the hard reality of limited means. We can’t be everywhere at once, and pretending otherwise risks leaving our own backyard vulnerable. Maybe it’s time for a hard reset on priorities, focusing on rebuilding what we’ve got before signing more blank checks.
