Many ex-soldiers eventually make the difficult transition into civilian life. Others never make it, ending up depressed, alcoholic and out in the streets. And a few, missing the excitement and the camaraderie, head off to other parts of the world, to take up arms again in someone else’s war.
The former Royal Marine Konstandinos Erik Scurfield went off in December to join the Syrian Kurdish YPG, one of the groups fighting against Islamic State (Isis).
The YPG, the armed wing of Kurdish Democratic Union party (PYD), a leftish group, was billing itself three years ago as a 21st century International Brigade. It largely failed in that attempt, attracting nothing like the numbers the Spanish civil war did: in fact, only an estimated 10 foreign recruits joined up.
The rise of Isis and the videos of beheadings of westerners have increased the YPG’s foreign contingent tenfold. But it is still a tiny number compared with the thousands of foreign fighters from around the world that Isis has attracted, partly because of its sophisticated social media.
Rami Abdurrahman, founder of the British-based Syrian Observatory, which monitors events in Syria, said the estimated 100 foreigners in YPG came from the UK, France, Spain, Austria, Australia, Denmark, America and Canada.
Of the 100, only a handful are British and about 10 are from the US.
Scurfield’s comrades, in posts on Facebook and other social media, suggested his motive had been to fight terrorism. That seems to be shared by many others who either joined or were on their way to join. But some of the early posts also suggest an element of the old call of ex-soldiers: simply seeking adventure, an arena in which their skills are still of use.
Since the second world war, ex-servicemen have sought to use their training in wars in Africa and Asia. They were the derided mercenaries of the 1960s and 70s, a group reborn more recently as “contractors”, used by the US to help provide security in Iraq and as backup to the intelligence agencies in places such as Pakistan.
The British intelligence services are not likely to pay much attention to those going to fight against Isis. For some this is hypocritical: why stop volunteers for Isis but not those for Kurdish groups? But there is a legal basis for this. Isis is proscribed by the Home Office as a terrorist group; the YPG is not.
It is relatively easy for volunteers to get to the frontline. Some will take the same route as Isis volunteers, heading to Turkey to make contact with their chosen group and then crossing the border into Syria. But the Turkish government can be inconsistent, according to anti-Isis groups, sometimes allowing people across, sometimes blocking them.
The preferred route for those joining the YPG is a straightforward flight to Irbil, in the Kurdish-held part of Iraq. From there it is easy to join up with Kurdish Syrian fighters.
The fighting in Syria and Iraq can be a battle of initials, a complex array of groups, of which the YPG is just one. It has, since the start of fighting in Syria, mainly been engaged in protecting the Kurdish population, which makes up about 10% of the population.
It has largely been successful, in spite of being underequipped and lacking in training. It is very different from the Kurdish peshmerga, one of the best fighting forces in the region, which occupies northern Iraq. The peshmerga receives equipment and training from European countries such as Germany and the UK. British special forces are based in that part of Kurdistan.
The peshmerga has so far proved the most effective force in confronting Isis fighters, holding their own in contrast with the spectacular collapse of the Iraqi army last year.
It was to join the peshmerga, not groups such as the YPG, that a British soldier based in Cyprus went awol in December. But he was quickly found and returned to base. Like Scurfield, his motive was to fight Isis, telling his family he had been influenced by the beheading of the British aid worker Alan Henning.
Scurfield is the first British casualty, not only from YPG ranks but in the war against Isis, but not the first foreigner from YPG to be killed.
The Australian Ashley Johnston, who adopted the Kurdish nom-de-guerre Heval Bagok, was according to Kurdish social media riding a tank when it was attacked by Isis fighters. He was, like Scurfield, an ex-soldier, with seven years’ experience as a reservist in the Australian forces.
The YPG is not choosy about which foreigners it takes: no military training required. And that can make it dangerous for others. What makes it doubly dangerous in this arena for westerners is that they are prized by Isis, who have been reported to have offered bounties for foreign members of the YPG.
