For these women veterans, a home to call their own

She feels safe here.

Polverari, a 38-year-old Army veteran, lives in a duplex cottage run by the nonprofit group Soldier On. A victim of repeated rapes during the Gulf War, she returned in 1993 to an unhinged civilian life of heroin, crack cocaine, and desperate homelessness.

She is among a growing legion of female veterans who have turned to the street after a failed transition from military to civilian life. At a time when women are assuming an ever-expanding role in the armed forces, the number of homeless female veterans is rising.

Women last year accounted for an estimated 5 percent of all homeless veterans, or 6,500 former servicewomen, a figure that is 67 percent higher than the number reported in 2004, according to the US Department of Veterans Affairs. By contrast, the total number of homeless veterans decreased by 33 percent in the same period, to 131,000 from 195,000.

To help stem the surge in homeless female veterans, Soldier On opened the cottage, dubbed Jackie K’s House, where 12 women at a time can try to reclaim and resurrect their lives in a women-only environment. Only one similar facility in the country is believed to exist.

“I think of this as my last chance,’’ said Polverari, a native of East Hartford, Conn. “I’m getting my dignity back.’’

The gender restriction - male visitors are announced with a declaration of “man on the floor’’ - has healing power at a place where most of the residents have been sexually abused, many of them during military service, said Laurie McGrath, the women’s program director.

“I don’t have to look over my shoulder and wonder whether I’ll feel that tap on my leg,’’ sighed Polverari, who said she was raped repeatedly by a fellow soldier during the Gulf War run-up in Saudi Arabia.

Afraid to complain to her superiors, Polverari said, the abuse continued with impunity during her deployment. After her discharge in 1993, Polverari said, her life cascaded into self-destructive, addictive behavior.

The rate of reported assaults among women who seek solace at Jackie K’s House is typical. Pam Pomroy, who is director of client services at a veterans center in Philadelphia, said 63 percent of homeless women in that program reported being sexually assaulted in the military. When sexual trauma outside the armed forces is added, Pomroy said, the rate rises to 80 percent.

Last year, 26.9 percent of female veterans returning from Iraq and Afghanistan reported to the VA Boston Healthcare System that they had been victims of “military sexual trauma.’’

Compounding the problem for the victims, veterans advocates said, is that sexual abuse can make women vulnerable to other devastating issues, including mental health problems, drug dependence, and a loss of home and children.

“I think because we’ve been dealing with male issues for so long,’’ McGrath said, “I’m not sure people are aware there are so many women vets and the issues they are having.’’

The Department of Veterans Affairs is working to address the problem, but public awareness is lagging, said Tom Hameline, senior vice president of HELP USA, a nonprofit group that develops housing and services for homeless and low-income populations.

“The VA, until very recently, saw themselves as an organization that served male soldiers,’’ Hameline said. “Like any large organization, it takes some time to shift.’’

On Tuesday, Veterans Affairs Secretary Eric Shinseki will convene a homeless “summit’’ in Washington at which 1,200 service providers and advocates for homeless veterans will gather to discuss how to end the problem within five years.

Dr. Kate Chard, who directs the VA’s implementation of a new program to identify and treat post-traumatic stress disorder, said the agency is acutely aware of the effects of sexual trauma within the military. As a result, she said, every VA medical center in the nation now has a staff member to deal with victims of such abuse.

In Northampton, the problem is being addressed one day at a time. The veterans cook for themselves, shop for groceries, engage in therapy, and lean on one another for emotional support. No men are allowed in the home without permission, and the veterans are free to leave the campus in their cars. However, they do have a nightly curfew.

The clients can stay for two years, working to bolster their self-esteem and sense of responsibility, before reentering a world that nearly crushed them.

Kim Tougas, 46, an Air Force Reserve veteran from Chicopee, is one of three women who make up the managing committee at Jackie K’s House. Tougas has been in the program for 18 months; for her, it has been a slow, incremental, confidence-building experience to reset her life compass. Without the help, Tougas said, “I probably would have ended up dead’’ from a downward spiral of daily drinking.

Now, she has been given a job distributing medication to her fellow veterans.

Maria Oltjenbruns, 48, an Army veteran from Springfield, is still in the “crying stage’’ of therapy, she said. After being sexually abused in the Army, Oltjenbruns said, her superiors simply told her to stay away from the perpetrator.

As the veterans spoke of the torturous paths they had traveled to Jackie K’s House, they stopped occasionally to reflect on the empowerment they feel in their women-ruled domain.

The transformation was noted by Jack Downing, president of Soldier On, who said a previous program that mixed women with their homeless male counterparts, some of whom continued to harass them, had been frustrating and flawed.

“You never saw looks like this in their faces before,’’ Downing said, referring to the smiles and calmness of the residents. “Before, they were broken.’’