I went to basic training in Ukraine with a Russian-speaking Territorial Defense unit. We learned our commands and signals in Ukrainian–voroh 3 (enemy at 3 o’clock), vikno na livo (window to the left), chysto (clear). “How do you say chysto in English?,” one kid asked me. “Clear,” I replied. “Wow, just like in Call of Duty!” he said.
Here is the American army’s biggest weakness: Americans rarely speak any language but English. In fact, at the end of the Global War on Terror (the fighting in Afghanistan and Iraq), there were actually fewer students in Arabic, Dari, and Pashto university language programs than there were when the fighting started. This means that American soldiers must rely on local self-identified interpreters, and interpreters are notoriously unreliable, no matter where you are or what you are doing. Some of this is because interpretation is really, really difficult. (I can attest to this–before the war, I was a volunteer Spanish/English interpreter with the humanitarian group Surgicorps International.)
Local interpreters in a war zone are usually untrained, while interpretation in any professional context requires certification because a lot of training is required in order to do it well. Additionally, working as an interpreter requires a solid understanding of the ethics of interpretation. Not following its ethical principles can be fatal–I have seen horrifying footage of an Iraqi interpreter lying about the intentions of a man being questioned by American troops. It did not end well. Wartime interpretation is dangerous, too. Interpreters with the American army patrol, defend, and assault. Sometimes, they are killed in action. And just like the rest of us, they carry scars that no one can see–the psychological ones, the spiritual ones, that come from seeing things that no one should see. Ever.
In the war against Russian aggression and terror, the Ukrainian army does not have this problem. In fact, along with Ukrainian creativity and innovativeness, it is Ukraine’s biggest strength. The enemy does not understand what we say, but our boys understand the enemy. Those kids carried a rifle right along with me. They were volunteers–just like me. They carried that rifle to defend freedom and democracy from invaders who are terrorists more than they are soldiers–just like me.
