House debates

Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Adjournment

Veterans

7:28 pm

Photo of Sussan LeySussan Ley (Farrer, Liberal Party, Shadow Minister for Childcare and Early Childhood Learning) Share this | | Hansard source

As American poet Walt Whitman said:

The real war will never get in the books.

We in this place who have the sacred responsibility of sending others to war should not forget that the cheques we write for engagement, objectives, peacemaking and protecting our way of life are all too often cashed with the blood of the men and women of our defence forces in conflicts far from home. Equally, we should not shirk our responsibility to care for those who come home damaged both physically and mentally—often both.

In many ways we are failing our returned servicemen and women. Once they leave the ADF, they often find themselves completely adrift in a system not set up to care. I wish to highlight the work of a new, small but incredibly important charity called Soldier On. Soldier On was launched around the time of Australia's Anzac Day commemorations this year, but actually began this time last year. In 2011, Cavin Wilson and John Bale decided that they wanted to give something back to their mates and colleagues who had been wounded physically or mentally on contemporary operations.

Soldier On is about bringing Australian communities together to support our wounded and ensure that this care is world's best. They are committed to working with defence and government as a non-critical partner to make this vision a reality. According to the ADF's mental health prevalence and wellbeing study in 2010 an estimated eight per cent of currently serving personnel had a diagnosis of post traumatic stress disorder. There have been 219 men and women physically wounded in Afghanistan alone, and many thousands suffer from post traumatic stress.

Post traumatic stress is a physical condition as well as an emotional one. Its physiology is not completely understood, and treatments are not always successful. It has been described as 'a moral wound against one's humanity'. As Vietnam veteran Tim O'Brien said, 'A true war story is never moral.'

When combat related, post traumatic stress comes from being confronted with the sights, sounds and smells of war, which terrify, sicken and damage. You do not just get better with time. Often you learn to live with it, its symptoms and the symptoms of the medications you have to take every single day as a constant companion. For many soldiers, this war never ends. While we more easily see and understand the effect of loss of sight, loss of limbs or outward scarring, no-one can readily see, know or understand the scars created inside.

Our younger returned soldiers and peacekeepers from Rwanda and other peacekeeping theatres—from East Timor, from Afghanistan—often come back to an even more significant living hell. Unable to fully comprehend what is happening inside their heads, they all too often travel the path of losing their job, family breakdown, separation from their children, addictions, loss and loneliness. One might describe it as falling out of life. They struggle every day with anger, anxiety, hypervigilance, distress, medications that they cannot do without and worlds of pain that we cannot imagine.

They served the nation, they served each other and they laid their lives on the line. Crippled with mental anguish and the ongoing battle with depression, is it any wonder that thoughts and then actions turn to suicide? But in plain sight on the streets, sometimes homeless, they remain invisible. They are the hidden and growing toll of war. Often these returned service men and women are chewed up and spat out by systems and bureaucracies—Veteran's Affairs, Centrelink, the Child Support Agency—who in many cases apply the rules without the principles most needed, those of care and compassion.

As one returned digger said to me recently: 'The whole system is flawed. I wish I never went away. It's as if the service to my country meant nothing at all. I can't lose any more than I have lost. I'm a broken man.' Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey towards it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us. We are not doing enough as governments, parliaments or communities to support our wounded warriors. With our help, generosity and organisations such as Soldier On, we can help them survive. (Time expired)