Military vets facing gaps in care
RSA faces questions as cuts in service by No Duff leaves about 30,000 ex-armed services personnel vulnerable
Damaged military veterans of modern conflicts are losing access to key support with a rapid response service cutting its hours because it can’t afford to continue.
The cuts in service by No Duff leaves vulnerable around 30,000 contemporary veterans, many with mental health issues directly relating to their service abroad.
It follows a generational surge in military personnel being sent to hotspots across the world, particularly from 1999 onwards, as the mass deployment to East Timor was followed by Iraq and then Afghanistan.
The withdrawal of services is a blow, with sometimes suicidal veterans seeking help in an area Veterans’ Affairs minister Ron Mark admits has gaps and isn’t met by the Returned and Services Association.
Veterans’ Affairs (VA) figures show it has few contemporary veterans on its books. Only 166 are aged under 60; whereas 6604 are 60 or over.
The RSA has told the Herald it operates on a similar ratio.
No Duff chief executive Aaron Wood — a veteran of Somalia, East Timor, the Solomon Islands and Afghanistan — said the service could no longer offer support to veterans every day round the clock.
It had helped 107 veterans in the past year, most of whom were contemporary veterans, with a range of needs from requiring support accessing services through to those calling “with their toes over the edge”.
“We are aware of a number of others who have committed suicide. We know for a fact there are people who have taken their own lives as a result of their service.”
In 2017 Mark announced $25,000 a year for four years for No Duff and $250,000 a year for the RSA.
A briefing to Mark from VA in July — ahead of the minister meeting with No Duff — said the group had estimated its annual costs at $184,000. “The government grant covers 14 per cent of these costs,” Mark was told.
Wood said the service was cutting back to provide support outside working hours, its cadre of veteran volunteers struggling to do their jobs and dedicate time to emergency calls for help.
He said the need was increasing. About 700 people were leaving NZDF each year, of which a quarter was assessed as being high risk.
Wood said the RSA wasn’t up to the task with its bricks-and-mortar club structure not offering contemporary veterans what they needed.
“Their clubs are filled with grey heads. It’s yellow food, pokie machines and cheap alcohol. There’s a culture of them-and-us that has continued since World War II.”
Wood said the RSA had 105,000 paying members — a quarter of whom had served — and got income through poppy sales. It also had more than 130 land titles held across the country.
“There’s a lot of money there and a lot of funding but it comes down to the culture. The culture of the RSA leans towards the older veteran.”
The issue was compounded by the fact many contemporary veterans did not see themselves as having that status, despite having to deal with the physical and psychological impacts of service in dangerous and difficult places.
Wood said the public also struggled to reconcile its understanding of a veteran, as seen marching on Anzac Day, with comparatively young former service personnel who tended to stay among the onlookers.
Mark, who is in Timor Leste for the 20th anniversary of the international operation ushering in independence, said he had told No Duff no money was immediately available.
He said any new funding would have to come through a Budget bid next year and until then VA had been helping approach other agencies that might help with money.
In a previously unpublished interview from March, Mark — himself a veteran — said his return from deployment was at a time where nothing was available.
“I think both Defence and RSA dropped the ball, for a long time.”
Mark said the RSA was “jogged” by the emergence of No Duff — which registered as a charity in 2017.
“That was a jolt and a reminder to the RSA they had dropped the ball, that there was an issue out there. It’s not just about turning up at the club, having a few beers, playing darts and a few games of pool . . . standing to attention at 6 o’clock and going home.
“This is about remembering the kaupapa that was set down by our forefathers who founded the RSA post Gallipoli. That was about welfare, wellbeing and support for veterans and their families.”
RSA president Barry Clark said the organisation was open to any veteran wanting assistance and rejected suggestions it hadn’t changed, pointing to the establishment of RSA hubs at Burnham and Linton camps to better connect with those serving.
It had also developed new programmes and training for district support managers. “We need to continually inform those younger veterans of the services we can provide.”
Clark confirmed there was no one on the RSA board or its presidents’ forum who would qualify as a contemporary veteran, other than the NZDF delegate to its board.
“One of the things is that we need to attract those people to make themselves available.” He also confirmed no money had been spent marketing the RSA to contemporary veterans in the past year.
Clark said there was no direct funding for No Duff. “The poppy funds are not for the running of another like organisation. They are for the support of those [individuals] identified as needing help.
“We are not in a position to assist the staffing funding of No Duff. We just don’t have any funding to fix their staffing issues.”
An internal review of the RSA which reported in September last year told the organisation it needed younger members.
“To survive at all the organisation needs to demonstrate relevance to the community and to recognise and meet the needs of those whom its existence is designed to support.”
There’s a lot of money there [but] the culture of the RSA leans towards the older veteran. Aaron Wood, No Duff CEO