Local Humanity… war, the mixing pot

It’s interesting to see who shows up when you throw a war. I’m not talking about the soldiers who sign up for myriad different reasons. Nor am I talking about the DOD civilians who volunteer to come along for the financial perks. I have spent the last five months looking at the civilians who work for various contractors supporting this effort. The conflict in Afghanistan and by implication all the third and fourth world conflicts around the globe draw an interesting mix. Bagram is primarily run by a gooup of contractors. While there are more local nationals on base here than you might find in Iraq most of the hired help is from other countries. You’ll find people from the USA working for various contractors. A good many of them are former military who like the civilian pay and freedoms. This is common in the fuel community. Walk around Bagram and you’ll see large numbers of Sikhs, Kyrgyz, Ukrainians, Slavs, Filipinos, etc. Having grown up in the Navy during the cold war it’s a bit disconcerting hearing Russian spoken and seeing Russian aircraft landing on base. There are a good many supporting companies that are located off post as well. These also tend to be heavily staffed by expats. Aussies, Brits, Scotts, Norwegians, Americans and others. Many of these people have served in other conflict areas as well, the Balkans, Sudan.

One of the people I’ve met was raised in Rhodesia during the Bush Wars. He lived on a farm and at the age of 8 was firing an FN assault rifle in defense of his home. He also worked is Sudan and narrowly avoided being killed by the Janjawid a time or two. For him this place in no big deal for him. Another of my acquaintances is a former LCDR in the Norwegian navy and spent a great deal of time in the Balkans moving fuel there as well. I also met a Brit who worked for the Halo Trust removing mines from Afghanistan.

It’s an interesting mix, all these people so far from home, accepting of being in strange lands, socializing with other expats. We went out drinking in Kabul with one of our business partners and at the end of the evening he told me how nice it was to be around fellow Americans for the evening. He missed being able to joke and laugh. Humor often doesn’t translate well.

I suppose the strangest thing for me is the realization that I have more in common with this odd group of expats than I do with most my fellow soldiers, sailors and airmen.