Lest we forget our veterans who are homeless

Some years ago, I interviewed James*, a Second World War veteran who had served in the Royal Australian Air Force. He dropped bombs throughout Europe. He flew many, many, many times, witnessed much death and destruction. But, after he returned home, it was two reconnaissance photos that haunted him. The first photo showed a girl crossing a bridge; the second was taken after the bridge had been destroyed by the bomb dropped from James’ plane. The girl was gone. When I spoke with James he had been suffering for over fifty years since the end of the war: his service, and specifically these photos, had affected his mental and physical health, his work, his social life and his family enormously. He had moved many, many times (his children went to thirteen and fourteen different schools) and he never felt settled. James isn’t alone as a veteran who returned suffering as a result of his war service.

Our history is, sadly, filled with veterans like James who served in the armed forces and returned home different men and women. I spent years studying the psychological effects of war on veterans and their families for my PhD. It was an important lesson for me on the connection between history and the legacy it leaves on people, families, communities and society. What’s alarming is that service in the armed forces continues to leave its mark on our veterans and as a society we still have not managed to provide the supports needed. This was reinforced by recent new research - The State of Homelessness in Australia’s Cities led by CSI UWA’s Professor Paul Flatau - which found that 1 in 20 of the 8,370 homeless people interviewed as part of the Registry Week data collection between 2010-2017 were veterans. Most of these veterans were sleeping rough and many (43%) reported experiencing a serious brain injury or head trauma in their lives. 

These veterans are amongst the more than 116,000 people who were homeless across Australia on Census night in 2016. That’s one in two-hundred people on any given night across the country and an increase of 14% since the previous 2011 Census. While veterans are hidden within the Census data, other groups experiencing homelessness are not: Indigenous Australians, recent migrants, young people, and a growing number of older people are overrepresented in the homelessness statistics. 

At the Centre for Social Impact, we're working hard with others to develop a deep understanding of homelessness and how it can be addressed. We're working with others to trial and measure new approaches (e.g. the 50 Lives 50 Homes project); we're examining innovative funding sources, including social impact investment; we're collaborating (e.g. our team in WA is steering the #EndHomelessnessWA project with multiple partners across the state); and we’re working with others to help change outcomes for veterans (e.g. see Andrew Hocking's Ganging up on the problem: a collaborative approach to improving the lives of veterans); and we’re undertaking new research projects on homelessness and social housing pathways and we're tackling these issues systemically through Amplify Social Impact.

There is, of course, much left to do and we're lucky to have and be able to work with incredible experts across sectors. But here are a few of my thoughts on things I think we need to be mindful of into the future:

• The importance of innovation, but also being confident in and properly funding successful existing evidence-based practices and models in the housing affordability and homelessness spaces;
• Addressing other key levers in the system in addition to housing (e.g. financial security is critical. See, for example, the Financial Inclusion Action Plan);
• Thinking and acting systemically by understanding different players and roles and who needs to work with who and when;
• Matching the right funding to the right solutions;
• Planning for, avoiding and watching for unintended consequences;
• Knowing where and whether we are making a difference by measuring impact; and
• Keeping humanity at the centre.

The final point is perhaps the most important, not only because people matter, but also because so often the evidence is not enough. So let me return to James and the many veterans who are homeless. War has shaped who we have become as a nation and a people. It has influenced our politics, medical history, economy, workforce, culture and our pride. But it has especially left its mark on people directly touched by service. On Anzac Day and beyond, I will stop to remember those who served, those who never came home, those who came home with wounded bodies and wounded minds, those who are homeless, and the generations after them. Lest we forget.

*Not his real name.