There is no defining background or single reason why someone enters the private military job market. Typically, some mix of three motivating factors applies: mission, money and personal considerations.

Private military employees often see their jobs as an extension of their public service in the military. They usually have a great deal of pride and patriotism in what they do, and see themselves not just on a business outing but in an endeavor bigger than themselves. This is particularly so in Iraq, where many see themselves as playing a greater part in the war on terrorism (clearly, the patriotic impulse is not as strong for third-party nationals). Retired U.S. military personnel often describe this as their way to get back into the fight.

There is also the related sense of military community and camaraderie that continues into the private sector. It may be a business, but it is a realm where one's former rank and experience still matter, as opposed to the regular corporate world. Loyalty to one's colleagues also is important.

Few will deny that another key draw is the pay. "Doing this kind of work for a year means some people have enough to retire on. Iraq is something of a gold mine at present," says Duncan Bullivant, the head of the British firm Henderson Risk. "The profit margin is incredibly high, way in excess of the risk factor."

Soldiers within the private military field typically make between two to 10 times what they make with their home-state military. Much as in regular industry, those at the higher end have an elite background, except that in the PMF world, having been in a Green Beret, SEAL or Special Air Service unit supplants being an Harvard or Wharton MBA as a point of distinction. The industry also mirrors global business, in that pay scales back home still matter significantly. So, while a former Green Beret can make up to $1,000 a day in Iraq, a Nepalese Ghurka is paid in the range of $1,000 a month.

Such income opportunities are hard to turn down, particularly in comparison to the meager pay that soldiers often get within the military. It is also at the heart of a growing controversy: How does the industry's growth affect retention within the military?

This challenge is different from the age-old problem of skilled professionals departing for better-paying civilian careers. Unlike a pilot who retires to go work for an airline, soldiers within the private military industry stay within the same sphere and, indeed, their firms often directly contract back with the military. The military not only prematurely loses the human capital investment it originally made in training soldiers, but then sees these exact skills billed back, at higher rates.

While it is too soon to tell how this all will shake out, it is known that special forces in Australia, Britain and the United States have all grown anxious at the increasing number of early retirements among its most skilled personnel, who depart for the PMF industry. As an illustration, there are reportedly more ex-SAS soldiers working for PMFs in Iraq now than currently serve in the entire elite British force. Indeed, the SAS has been forced to recruit for the very first time in its history, while U.S. Army Special Forces have been compelled to begin recruiting directly from the civilian population. Troubled by this development, the Pentagon recently convened a special working group of senior NCOs to examine how to stem the outflow from Special Forces.

The concern over labor poaching also might affect the National Guard and Reserves, already under incredible pressure to bolster retention. A number of reservists in California recently returned from Iraq were approached by private military firms dangling offers worth more than $120,000, most of it tax free, to return and carry out the same jobs. A particularly alluring selling point made by the firms was that the reservists' finances were in shambles after being gone a year and many had lost their old civilian jobs in the interim.

Finally, individuals may be drawn into this industry for any number of personal reasons. The industry presents perhaps the easiest and simplest transition for ex-soldiers, and as many note, "It beats working at McDonald's." Others may be drawn to the career by comparative excitement and adventure. As one former Marine recon officer notes, "We're adrenaline seekers, passionate about freedom and serving our country." Even family issues can come into play. I have met contractors who confessed they simply wanted a year away from their wives' nagging and others who were looking to escape the recent loss of loved ones.

The four men killed in Fallujah were professionals who had gained these jobs on the basis of their prior special forces expertise. Three had served in the U.S. Army and the fourth in U.S. Navy. Some had gone to work for the industry directly after their military service, while others had turned to the industry several years later. The L.A. Times described one of those killed, 38-year-old former SEAL Stephen "Scott" Helvenston, as "Hollywood's image of a soldier, blond, bronzed and broad shouldered." In fact, Helvenston had helped solidify that image, working as a trainer and stunt man for such movies as "Face/Off" and "G.I. Jane" and appearing on two reality series, "Man vs. Beast" and "Combat Missions," produced by "Survivor" creator Mark Burnett. Helvenston ran his own fitness video business before going over to Iraq just two weeks ago before the attack.

Keith Woulard, a former SEAL who had worked with Helvenston as an instructor at the Navy's Basic Underwater Demolition School in Coronado, Calif., commented, "A lot of people are saying, 'Do you think he went over there for the money?' Of course he did. But that wasn't his main goal. It was to go over there and help out and put his knowledge to use."

Tomorrow: Some skeptics begin to question outsourcing

This story has been corrected since it was originally published.

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