INTRODUCING HUGH MORRISON

Hugh Morrison served Camberwell RSL as welfare officer and vice president for over two decades. Awarded an Australia Day Medal in 2006 for his RSL service, Hugh embodies the motto of ‘serving still’ through ongoing community volunteer work, Reiki practice, and his role as a Carmelite layperson.

Tell us about your background and what led you to military service.

I was born in Epsom, Surrey. My father was an RAF pilot who fought through the Second World War, and I wanted to join the army because my two uncles were both soldiers. Uncle Eric was in the Dorset Regiment, transferred to the Parachute Regiment and fought in North Africa, Sicily, Italy and then Arnhem, but he didn’t come back from Arnhem. Uncle Bob was in the Royal Tank Regiment and was killed at the Anzio landings in 1944.

For my mum, Remembrance Day in England was an incredibly sad day. Dad would also be quiet because 50% of Bomber Command lost their lives. My mum used to say, you’d be at a party in the mess and then the next week, half of them weren’t there. She’d have two tears running down her face all day on Remembrance Day. So, I grew up understanding the cost of service.

I have a great interest in the war poets of the First World War – Siegfried Sassoon, Edmund Blunden, Wilfred Owen – and their memoirs. As a schoolboy, their suffering during the war really struck me. I felt could identify with them. Reading their poems and stories gave me an enormous respect for those who served.

At 16 years old I joined the British Army as a junior leader, but got frostbite in both feet which cost me my regular Army career. After hospital and rehab, I joined the Territorial Army – the Army Reserve – in the Honourable Artillery Company, which was given its charter in 1537 by King Henry the eighth. You had to be proposed and seconded because it’s an officer producing unit. I was there for four and half years before coming to Australia.

What made you come to Australia?

I’d always fancied coming to Australia. I was driving coaches across Europe and met a lot of Australians – it was 25 guineas return from Australia to Europe, so many Australians used it because it was cheap. I thought they sounded colourful and fine people. But I didn’t want to be a Ten Pound Pom, so I paid my own way – £408, which was a lot of money I saved up. I arrived on April 28th, 1971, with my passport stamped “unlimited entry” at Fremantle.

I worked in the meat industry for W. Angliss as a management trainee. When the Melbourne factory closed in 1974, everyone was sacked – all 1000 people. But it was during that period that I met my wife Kate, a nurse. I asked her out and here we are, 50 years married.

I don’t know what I would have done without Kate. She’s been a wonderful friend – very calm, very sensible. She’s a nursing sister and midwife, and just supportive in every way. A wonderful mother, wonderful wife, wonderful granny. We have our first grandchild, Asher, who’s nearly seven years old. She’s a ray of sunshine in our lives. She loves to get on the sofa and cuddle up to her Granny Kate. My family, including my children Ben and Nicole, mean the world to me.

What drew you to the RSL?

Having been in the regular army and reserve army, I naturally gravitated towards veteran organisations. When I came to Victoria in 1974, I joined the British Airborne Forces Association because I’d done parachute training in the Territorial Army.

Through the Airborne Association, I met John Frewen, who was president of Camberwell RSL at the time. He was a lovely fellow and had also been an airborne soldier in the Australian Paras. I met him one Anzac Day where you hang around in Swanston Street before stepping off. He said they were short of younger members, so I joined Camberwell RSL in 1994.

I’d done a welfare officer’s course through the DVA and RSL Victoria and became a qualified welfare officer. I came to Camberwell RSL as welfare officer and then became vice president. The connection was immediate – here were people who understood what service meant.

How did you approach your role as welfare officer and what innovations did you bring?

I wanted to give service to those who’d given service. That’s why I did the welfare course – because I wanted to help those who had served their country and who needed it. Some were older and their nerves weren’t particularly good. Some were injured. It was just a way of giving back.

The RSL provided the framework and support to do this properly. They trained me, they backed me up, and they understood the importance of looking after our own.

Being there for people was the heart of it. Sometimes all they wanted to do was talk and you just be there, and listen. The RSL taught me that listening is often the most important service you can provide. There would be paperwork for claims to DVA, and you could help them with that, but often it was simply about connection.

In the early 2000s, I contributed to the push for changes to the veteran care model. I advocated for change in the way veteran welfare was done because I could see that we needed to address not just the physical needs of veterans, but their mental and spiritual wellbeing too.

I ran meditation classes at the Camberwell RSL for several years and saw how important they were for the veterans. Many of them were carrying trauma, stress, and needed ways to find peace. The meditation gave them tools to manage their mental health and find some inner calm.

For me, family, spirituality, and service to others are at the core of my values. I’m a deeply spiritual person – not religious in a dogmatic sense, but spiritual. As a Carmelite layperson, compassion towards others is what matters most to me, along with service. I’m also a certified Reiki practitioner and still practice Reiki today.

You also contributed to practical initiatives for RSL members. Can you tell us about that?

I was instrumental in implementing and running the Clive Peeters scheme for RSL Victoria. This entitled RSL members, affiliates, war widows, ladies auxiliaries, RSL headquarters, RSL Care, sub-branches and club staff to significant discounts at Clive Peeters stores. It was a substantial benefit for our members and their families.

RSL State President Bruce Ruxton presented me with an inscribed National Flag in appreciation for that work and for securing the sponsorship and support from the Clive Peeters company. It was gratifying to see how much money this saved our members over the years.

You’ve received recognition for your RSL service. How did that feel?

In 2006, I was awarded an Australia Day Medal for my service to the RSL by Major General David McLachlan AO, who was RSL Victoria State President at the time. It was a tremendous honour, but honestly, I always felt I got more out of my RSL service than I gave.

The real reward was seeing the difference we could make in veterans’ lives – whether through the welfare work, the meditation classes, the practical benefits like the Clive Peeters scheme, or just being there when someone needed to talk.

How would your military service shape your approach to RSL work?

Military service gave me discipline and showed me the importance of looking after your mates. In the army, you learn that you’re only as strong as your weakest link, and you never leave anyone behind. The RSL operates on the same principle.

I ran businesses successfully because the army taught me to be motivated and organised. But more importantly, it taught me about service – putting others before yourself. The RSL allowed me to continue that tradition of service in civilian life.

You’ve been involved in other volunteer work. How does that connect to your RSL values?

For over 20 years I volunteered at Briar Terrace in Fitzroy – a drop-in centre for men and women who had nowhere else to go. You’d get to know them, remember how they liked their tea, give them a place where they were known and respected.

This came directly from my RSL training and values. The welfare officer course taught me about listening, about being there for people, about practical support. Those same skills applied whether I was helping a veteran with a DVA claim or providing a cup of tea to someone who just needed human contact.

The RSL’s emphasis on service – ‘serving still’ – extends beyond just veterans. It’s about serving your community, helping those who need it. The principles are the same: mateship, looking after others, not leaving anyone behind.

What would you say to younger veterans about joining the RSL?

Keep your eyes open. Look at opportunities when they arise to serve others. The RSL isn’t just about looking backwards – it’s about continuing to serve. Whether it’s welfare work, helping with commemorative events, or just being there for a mate who’s struggling, there’s always a way to contribute.

How do you define the RSL’s impact on your life?

The RSL gave me purpose after military service. It provided a way to continue serving, to use my experiences to help others. But more than that, it gave me a community of people who shared my values.

When I was at Anzac House as memorabilia volunteer, I saw firsthand how the RSL works. The motto is ‘serving still’ – and that says it all. We don’t stop serving when we take off the uniform.

Whether at the RSL, at Briar Terrace, or any volunteer work – it’s about treating others the way you would like to be treated. The RSL embodies that principle.

Any concluding thoughts about the RSL and service?

At 79, I’m still looking for ways to serve. That drive never leaves you when you’ve worn the uniform, and the RSL provides the framework to channel that into meaningful action. Whether you served in conflict or not, whether you’re young or old, there’s a place for you in this family.

The bonds formed in service don’t end when you take off the uniform. The RSL ensures they continue, and that we continue to serve – each other and our community. That’s the legacy of service.

Join the Camberwell RSL Family Today

Inspired by Hugh’s story? You too can be part of a vibrant, welcoming community that honours the past, supports the present, and builds for the future. Whether you’re looking for connection, camaraderie, or simply a great place to relax — there’s a place for you here.