Anyone who thinks the left aren’t implacably hostile to the institutions that made the West great just isn’t paying attention. Chief among its targets in the war against so-called ‘repressive state institutions’ are the military and the churches. In the case of the “Sally Man”, it’s a twofer.
So it’s no surprise that the Albanese government is quietly demolishing this century-plus Anzac tradition.
The Sally Man is the Salvation Army volunteers who bolster the morale of our troops, in war and during peacetime deployments.
Clad in their distinctive uniforms, these Salvation Army officers, known colloquially as Sally Men, provided hot brews – tea, coffee, biscuits, and often a listening ear to soldiers far from home. It was during the Gallipoli campaign in 1915 that their role truly embedded itself in the Anzac legend. Amid the mud, blood, and ceaseless artillery, the Sally Man was a beacon of humanity, reminding our troops that someone back home cared.
This tradition, stretching back to the Boer War era around 1900, has endured through two world wars, Korea, Vietnam, Afghanistan, and countless peacekeeping missions. It’s not hyperbole to say it’s woven into the fabric of Australian identity, much like the slouch hat or the rising sun badge.
Until it got shot in the back by the Long March left.
The Albanese government’s latest federal budget has quietly axed funding for the Salvation Army’s military support programs, including the frontline Sally Man initiatives. Buried in the fine print of defence allocations, this estimated $1.5 million annual cut will force the Salvos to scale back their presence in barracks, on exercises, and during deployments.
No more impromptu cups of tea in the field, no more quiet chats that help soldiers process the traumas of service. In an era where mental health crises in the Australian Defence Force are at alarming levels, with veteran suicide rates stubbornly high, this is nothing short of reckless.
In typically Marxist bureaucratic doublespeak, the government burbles about ‘streamlining efficiencies’ and redirecting funds to ‘modern capabilities’, which is surely cold comfort to the troops.
Morale isn’t built on algorithms, it’s forged in human connections, the kind the Sally Man has provided for generations […]
During the first world war, General Monash himself praised the Salvation Army’s contributions, noting how their simple acts of kindness sustained troop spirits under unimaginable strain.
In the second world war, Sally Men were embedded with Anzac forces in the Pacific, offering solace amid the jungle horrors. Even in recent times, during the ADF’s operations in East Timor and Iraq, the Salvos’ support has been credited with reducing isolation and boosting resilience. Study after study, from Department of Veterans’ Affairs reports to independent analyses, shows that non-governmental organisations like the Salvation Army play a critical role in maintaining military cohesion.
An army’s combat power consists of firepower, manoeuvre and morale. Undermine any and you undermine combat effectiveness.
As for the so-called budget savings: $1.5 million is a drop of piss in a bucket. That’s just three hours flying time for an F-35 fighter jet. One and a half MK-48 torpedoes. About 150 artillery rounds.
This isn’t about saving money: it’s a purely ideological assault on one of the oldest Anzac traditions.
Not only is the Albanese government destroying the morale of everyday Australians through their socialist agenda, aided and abetted by the weak opposition provided by Sussan Ley, but they are now destroying root and branch the human element that makes our forces effective […]
If the government truly valued defence as they claim, they’d recognise that morale is the invisible armour of any army. Without it, recruitment suffers, retention plummets, and readiness erodes. We’ve seen this before. Post-Vietnam neglect led to decades of rebuilding trust in the ADF. Do we really want to repeat that mistake?
One thing’s for sure: many on the left clearly don’t even regard that as a mistake. It’s a strategy.
