I have in front of me the final report of the Royal Commission into Defence and Veteran Suicide. I am partway through. I will probably not read it all, though I will do my best.

Why, you may ask, would I wish to read a report of this nature as I am not directly responsible for executing the outcomes of the 122 recommendations, nor am I in a position to lobby people and institutions that might be?

There are two reasons, one substantial, the other less so but described well by poet and author Ivan Head as inter-generational trauma that plays out as part of a family’s long-cycle story.

The first reason is that I am a volunteer Lifeline crisis supporter on Sunday mornings between 6 am and 10 am. I sit on a telephone line with a variety of people who may be suicidal, or who are living through crisis or trauma. Many of them, men and women, are veterans. Some are homeless, some separated from their families and others who are at the end of their rope because of substance and alcohol abuse or all of the above. They have given up hope. There is no doubt in my mind about this. I can tell by the way they talk, how they relay what they are going through, how they feel about their service, and most of all how they feel about the Australian Defence Force (ADF) and more particularly the Department of Veteran’s Affairs (DVA).

The second less substantial reason that I am interested in the report relates to my own indirect experience of veteran suicide. My grandfather saw active service from the decks of a hospital ship during the first world war. He was attached to HMAS Karoola which sailed between battles, including the Gallipoli campaign. When he returned from duty he took up a textile manufacturing business which for a time was quite profitable. He came from a supportive Christian family, married, and had two children, one of whom was my father. When the Depression arrived in Australia, my grandfather’s business became unsustainable. After a few years of loss – including their house and business – he became depressed, started drinking, and one fine summer Saturday morning, shot himself in the head with a pea rifle. My father was 11 at the time; his sister was two years older. I have researched what I can of my grandfather’s life and death and have determined that what he saw on that ship and in those battles contributed in large part to his mental state and his suicide. This is a personal opinion. I have no direct evidence but it is enough for me to be able to talk to my Lifeline veteran help-seekers with some degree of empathy.

This is why I am in the process of reading the report of the Royal Commission. It is not an easy read. Which may be why there has been minimal media coverage. There have been earlier reports. This report has been researched and published because a number of the families of military personnel, who have taken their own lives, have been actively engaged in fighting to have governments recognise the tragedy of the deaths of their loved ones.

The report found that previous inquiries made more than 750 recommendations which resulted in ‘some changes but not the level of reform envisaged or needed’. Indeed, it states there has been no ‘sustained reduction in the high rates of suicide among serving and ex-serving ADF members over the last 20 years’.

This is an appalling situation at any time but right now Australia’s military is at a point where it is difficult to persuade a generation of eligible people to join the ADF. In a country of 27 million, each year around 6,000 men and women enlist. And there are more than half a million living who have served or are currently serving in the ADF.

Men and women who served in the permanent forces are, 21 per cent and 81 per cent respectively, more likely to die by ‘deaths of despair’ than other Australian men and women. Deaths of despair, a term which smacks of hopelessness, are deaths by suicide, drug or alcohol poisoning, and chronic liver disease or cirrhosis. It is a shocking phrase and one which ought never to have entered the Australian lexicon. Another is ‘moral injury’. According to the report, moral injury is a relatively new concept and not yet widely acknowledged as a risk factor. It is associated with betrayal, guilt, shame, and self-condemning behaviour. Moral injury occurs when people are victims of actions that go against their moral code. In ADF terms, moral injury occurs because individuals believe the system has let them down, that there is institutional betrayal – a constant refrain from serving and ex-serving men and women when they call Lifeline.

Elsewhere I have written about why my grandfather killed himself. More than 90 years ago, at the time of his suicide, there was no help available to him or his family. If I can read the complete report of the Royal Commission, which thus far provides information and anecdotal evidence on a number of levels, I may be in a better position to ground my Lifeline callers and be part of the reason they remain alive.

If you need help, call Lifeline on 13 11 14. For more information about depression contact Beyond Blue on 1300 224 636 or talk to your GP or local health professional.