RSL or beach club? Bondi landmark bans pub rock and meat trays, removes honour boards

For decades, it has been an institution in Sydney’s eastern suburbs, a welcoming clubhouse where those who served their country in conflict have gathered and remembered others who made the ultimate sacrifice.

But sweeping changes at beachside North Bondi RSL Club have prompted concerns that older veterans are being left on the outer.

On the way out are fixtures such as badge draws, meat tray raffles and honour boards that list the club’s leaders down the years, and in has come an edict for no pub rock or regular live sport on the big screen.

The TAB section and Keno are also gone, and the club is even considering a name change and removing RSL from it altogether.

It has recently advertised under the moniker Bondi Beach Club, with the abbreviation VFC – for veterans and families club – in small lettering next to it.

Beneath the name in the promotions was the sub-heading Tobruk House, by which the North Bondi RSL sub-branch has been known since it was established by members of the Rats of Tobruk during World War II.

North Bondi RSL Club chairman Josh Farquhar told this masthead that there have been discussions about renaming the venue, but no decision has been made.

Farquhar said that whatever name it took under his watch, it would recognise veterans and families, but added that “RSL NSW has made it very clear they don’t want RSL clubs to be called RSL clubs” in a bid to distinguish licensed clubs from RSL sub-branches.

The Herald revealed earlier this year that the North Bondi RSL sub-branch had scrapped two-up from its Anzac Day offering.

There has been upheaval at the club itself as it has rolled out the latest changes, with five senior staff, including its chief executive, departing in the past month.

According to sources with knowledge of the situation, speaking on the condition of anonymity, older veterans felt disrespected and alienated, believing that the club had been repositioned to cater more to a younger generation.

“These poor old guys don’t deserve this,” a source said. “This is their place that they’ve gone to for so long. If they want to change it, change, don’t put them on the outer. Explain it to them. They’re made to feel as if they’re not welcome.”

Another said: “Older veterans have been going there for years. That’s their little lounge room. The blokes come down, they have a few beers, they go home. They’re not drunk, they’re not offensive ... it’s their clubhouse, where they come and meet.”

Sources said that on Vietnam Veterans’ Day in August this year, a group of veterans turned up at the club wearing suits and their medals and discovered that nothing had been planned to mark the occasion. Staff were left to scramble to put the Australian flag at half-mast.

Asked about Vietnam Veterans’ Day, Farquhar said most Vietnam veterans usually attended another event at Rose Bay RSL.

“We have a standing arrangement with Rose Bay to support their event and not risk distracting from it,” he said.

He defended the approach of the club, saying it was designed to attract a family demographic and took into account the sub-branch’s high membership of combat veterans from recent wars such as Afghanistan and Iraq.

“This is a charity that exists to support veteran welfare,” said Farquhar, a veteran of the Afghanistan and Iraq campaigns who is also a director of the RSL sub-branch.

“It’s not a charity that exists to just provide a clubhouse to whoever wants to go there. It’s got to be commercial.

“Obviously, we’re one club and can’t be everything to everybody, but we have the youngest membership of any sub-branch in NSW. The average age of RSL members [in NSW] is 70-something. The average age of our members is 36, and we’re more than twice the size of the next largest RSL sub-branch.”

Farquhar said it was wrong to suggest that older veterans were not looked after. He said that former RSL sub-branch president Rob de Graaf ran an older veterans’ group, which had monthly morning teas and did other activities.

He said they had removed a large fridge which had, until this week, covered part of a wall featuring military plaques “in line with our position to proudly commemorate the club’s heritage”.

He doesn’t apologise for the connection with younger veterans, for whom welfare needs were at a critical stage.

The club has placed photographs on its walls of anyone from a Sydney-based unit who has been killed in service since 2000.

“Young people don’t want to be part of a free beer and schnitzel club,” he said.

“What young veterans want is to be part of a community where they can look after their mates.”