TIME FOR ACTION

The Royal Commission into Defence and Veteran Suicide has now released its final report, and there are reasons for both hope and cynicism.

Hope, because current Defence personnel, veterans and their families have come forth in public and private sessions to share their stories of struggle, providing intimate and invaluable knowledge. Cynicism, because veteran suicide rates have exceeded civilian rates for decades.

“We’ve catalogued more than 50 previous inquiries in the previous 30 years, which have resulted in more than 750 recommendations,” says Nick Kaldas APM, Chair of the Royal Commission.

“Frankly, even though some of those recommendations may have been ‘ticked off’, they’ve had no impact. No-one’s ever really gone back to see if the intent of the recommendations has been achieved.”

The following graph displays the rate of suicide for current and ex-serving Defence members – showing the number of deaths per 100,000 population, rather than the total number.

Pay particular attention to the rate for ex-serving males, which even at its lowest points has stayed above that of other metrics since the beginning of the dataset.

Now is the time for action, says Isaac Ohlin, Head of Veterans Policy and Program Delivery at RSL NSW.

“We cannot let this become yet another inquiry – three years of hard work by veterans and their families, including those who provided testimony and those who were there to witness it – without impact,” he says.

“Throughout the Royal Commission’s hearings, the team at RSL NSW supported veterans and their family members who provided evidence and testimony, attended and summarised every hearing block, and began the process of creating a forum in which ex-service organisations [ESOs] can collaborate to maximise impact.”

Among the 800 private sessions, nearly 60,000 written submissions, and 400 or so witnesses who gave evidence in public hearings, the Royal Commission found a persistent theme of unfairness. This ranged from veterans feeling poorly treated in an administrative sense to more severe cases.

Shining a Light illustrates the raw experiences of serving Defence personnel with extraordinary veracity, covering allegations of bullying, hazing, harassment, assault, substance abuse and violence.

One Air Force veteran with 30 years’ service under his belt recalls the impact of his first deployment.

“I began to drink heavily in order to be able to sleep at night and, along with the onset of a myriad of other conditions, was subsequently diagnosed with alcohol abuse disorder … I never discussed any of these issues and/or feelings with anyone, not my wife, close friends, workmates etc.

“I have long since learned that it would have been one of the most fundamentally important things to have [spoken up]. However, at the time, Defence didn’t mandate that I discuss these issues with anyone, let alone a psychologist.”

(Note that the voice used in the above soundbite is AI-generated and not that of a real person. The same applies to the soundbites below.)

An Air Force chaplain describes how her chain of command failed to act against a male colleague she had reported as having abused her.

“An organisation’s culture is only as good as the worst behaviour that the leadership is willing to accept, and in my case senior leaders were willing to accept bullying, sexual harassment, assault, sexual assault and threats to kill.

“It is little wonder that we are having a Royal Commission when there is such a huge failure in our senior leaders to have the moral courage to do the right thing.”

For many veterans, transitioning out of Defence complicates rather than alleviates these problems. One current Defence member says the process takes “way too long”.

“There are too many hoops … that need to be [jumped through] to even get to [the] stage where you actually finally have some light at the end of the tunnel.”

That light is often in the form of a supportive network of mates – which a veteran is prone to lose the moment they step out the door. According to a Navy veteran who served for 35 years, her sudden medical discharge left her figuratively and literally stranded.

“You no longer have access to [Defence] bases, meaning a veteran is suddenly cut off from their unit medical support team, rehabilitation facilities, mess facilities, shipmates and colleagues. It is beyond cruel to face that finality.”

Yet support does exist. One Army veteran’s struggle to find suitable civilian employment was relieved after he joined the RSL Employment Program.

“You are told in Defence you’ll have no troubles finding a job, that everyone wants you and that your skill sets are better than everyone else. Then when you get out, and especially when you don’t want to get out, you can’t get a job anywhere.

“[The RSL Employment Program helps] find you jobs. I had someone help me with my resume and my cover letter. It was all free and an excellent experience.”

Some veterans have rightly felt let down by ESOs in the past, which may not have been there for them in the way they needed. They are described as a “self-licking ice cream” by one Navy veteran, who also described the RSL as lacking in representation.

“The general feeling is that the boards of most RSLs are older and unfortunately out of touch.”

This sentiment is echoed by numerous contributors.

“The RSL is suffering the same issues the Vietnam vets faced from the WWII vets – the majority are elderly and retired and don’t understand the issues the younger vets face.”

Kaldas says a permanent body that will oversee the implementation of the recommendations of the Royal Commission would need Royal Commission powers, or greater, to be effective.

“We have Royal Commission powers and we have struggled sometimes to obtain all the information we need from the various agencies and departments,” he says. “It would be not futile, but it would make it much more difficult if they didn’t have any real power to obtain material information.”

Another institution Kaldas says would be welcome, and is already being worked towards, is a peak body for ESOs.
Estimates say there are 5,000-7,000 ESOs or charities whose purpose it is to deal with veterans. Without a single body to lobby government, the policy desires of the veteran community reach those in power in a piecemeal fashion.

Kaldas says there has been progress on the formation of a peak body.

“I think they’ve landed at a position now where they are all in agreement about the need for a peak body that ensures collaboration and governance, and that there is much better value, I think, from ex-service organisations than perhaps has been the case in the past.”

Nothing yet has been established, and there are no guarantees these longer-term plans will come to pass. For example, an official commissioner in charge of veteran affairs with real power would require an act of parliament, and politics can be fickle and forgetful.

But Kaldas says hope isn’t an option, it’s a requirement.

“I think you have to be optimistic. If we give up, then we’re not going to achieve anything.

“What I have seen that gives me optimism is the number of really, really good people and good units that are trying very hard in this space.”

Hope without action is just an emotion. The Royal Commission might be wrapping up, but the wellbeing of veterans has been an issue since before World War I, and will continue to be an issue so long as Australia needs people to defend it.

This is the larger struggle, and things will only get better if people are willing to join it.

“We hope and pray that the ex-service organisation sector unites after we disappear,” says Kaldas. “And goes forward with advocating as loudly as they can for veterans and serving members, and achieve everything that can be achieved to help them.”