The RSL gets a bad rap. Here’s what I’ve seen.

My friend has been going through a tough time.

Her about to be ex-spouse has been taking her for a ride over the past few years. Off again/on again, cheating, lying, apologizing and then it all happens again. About a month ago it came to a head, she had enough and now they are working towards a divorce. My friend is feeling every bit of the loss, deception, manipulation, emotional abuse and betrayal that has been her marriage over recent times.

I’ve been doing my best to support her, give her space or connection depending on what she needs at the time. Both of us are veterans, and last week we decided to head out to the local RSL to support an event they had running.

I don’t know if it was stress, the couple of drinks we had or something else but one minute my friend was chatting away and the next she was unconscious on the floor. Totally out of it.

Normally I’m pretty good in an emergency, but that day I was in no condition to play nurse. Terrified for my friend, I became enveloped by a sea of people who had every skill we needed from crowd control, emergency management, welfare support and advanced adulting. I was bundled into the ambo with my mate, lights and sirens, followed by people in cars to make sure we had the support we needed at the hospital. Numbers were punched into my phone, hugs were given.

The next day I awoke to messages on my phone. “Let’s get her back into the RSL where we can give her the support that she needs”.

My friend is okay; there is still a bumpy road ahead for her as she goes through the divorce process. As promised, we had an appointment with the team from the local RSL and they went into gear to give her additional supports – practical, financial, professional contacts and genuine “we will be there for you whenever you need – at the court, after appointments, just call”.

It’s not that I’m not a good friend, and it’s not that she doesn’t have other good friends too. It’s that there is a whole lot of care, support and extra knowledge that’s out there for my friend. There’s a community of it, just waiting for her at the RSL.

The RSL gets a bad rap. Some veterans think it’s just a place for soggy, grumpy old soldiers. Or they won’t be welcome because they’re too different to the traditional idea of a veteran.

This idea rolls around my head and makes me think of the people who haven’t yet popped into their RSL – or found the right one for them. I spoke with another ‘young vet’ recently who talks of her RSL being lifesaving when she was battling addiction after leaving the Service. I have been to that RSL, and they are absolute legends.

I see that people aren’t engaged when I know the support they might need is out there waiting for them. I was in that category at one stage too.

I now know that it’s the family you found when you started serving all those years ago and then lost when you discharged.

The senior NCO who has your back when you’re a junior officer, so you don’t make a fool of yourself.

That one who drives out and sits at the emergency department, waiting for their soldier/sailor/aviator to be discharged to drive them home.

They’re at the RSL, waiting for you to come and say hi.

It’s not perfect, I get it. I spend time with lots of diverse veteran groups – some are engaged with an RSL, and some are not. Many can’t find their way to identify as a veteran after their experiences. I get that too.

I can’t fix every place or address every failure, but I can say that I know there is support out there. There are allies, peers, people who get you. And a whole bunch of folks that will support you as part of the veteran family regardless of the colour of your DVA card, your skin, your sexuality, your heritage. You served and that’s what matters.

I’ve seen the impacts of the RSL community this week and the verdict is good.