This brought me right into the middle of the conflict. Even in the middle of the fighting there were small areas left almost untouched. It was into one of these areas that I found Pastor Davis. He was there administering one of the relief programs.

He told me about one group of refugees nearby in a very isolated location that were on the verge of starvation when another American showed up among them.

"I was told that he just showed up one day. He walked into the camp with nothing but the clothes on his back. He did not talk with anyone and nobody tried to talk with him since they could see had no food nor water."

"He just started to help with burying the dead one day and the next day he took a shovel and walked some distance from the camp and started digging a hole. Everyone thought he was crazy to go so far away to dig a grave. Yet he dug the hole deeper than any grave and people started to gather to watch."

"What was he digging for?" I asked.

"Nobody knew. I was told that several of them asked but he would not answer any questions. He just kept digging that day and most of the next. He was about four meters down when he started digging up mud."

"He found water?"

"Yes. This is when some of the other refugees began to help him dig. They dug down another meter before they stopped. He started silently rationing out the water."

"He still did not talk?"

"No. By this time everyone was thinking he was a mute so they stopped trying to ask questions."

"The next day he goes off to another location and again begins to dig. You can imagine that he got help this time. Again, after digging down about five meters they have another well. He digs several more wells in the following days until there are enough wells to supply water for the entire camp."

"Now this is not a real refugee camp, but only the refugees from several villages that came together while attempting to make it to one of the relief camps. They had been without food or water for so long that they could not go on."

"Did this guy just stumble on the group then?"

"I don't know. But he was a God-sent to these people."

"I am told that it was after he had been there for a couple of weeks when he first spoke. They managed to find someone in the camp that could act as translator. He asked for help finding edible roots and the such. He also asked for seeds that could be planted."

"An old woman he had helped bury had left behind some seeds. He planted the seeds and started watering them."

"So what was his name? He did tell someone his name didn't he?"

"That is the strange thing, I mean it is stranger than the rest. He said his name was 'Nobody.' That was the only name he would give. When I met him he told me the same thing, that his name was 'Nobody.'"

"Well, he dug wells for them, planted a crop and after people were getting enough to eat he started to build small shelters. He would just silently start working. People would see what he was doing and join in."

I just had to meet this 'Nobody' and find out for myself who he was. So I had the pastor take me up to the camp.

The place was very remote. There were about a couple of hundred people there. There were from about seven different villages. I saw the garden and the wells, two shelters and the graves.

It did not take long to find him. He was working in the garden. He was tall, muscular and had dusty hair.

"Hello, I'm Sam Penning. I have traveled a long way to meet you."

"Why?"

I was taken back by this. "I had heard so much about how you have helped these people when relief organizations couldn't."

"All I did was dig a hole. These people helped themselves. They dug their wells, they planted these crops and they built the shelters."

"From what I heard you showed them the way."

"As I said, I only dug a hole. Now I have work to do so we can eat tonight."

Over the next several days I worked beside him. He was certainly a man of very few words. He could go the entire day without saying a word.

He never once gave any orders or told anyone how to do things. When he saw that something needed to be done he would start himself and soon others would join him and get the job done.

One night I did find him in a talkative mood. He had climbed to the top of a nearby hill as the sun was going down.

I followed him up the hill and sat down nearby. We could hear the voices of happy people in the camp. Camp, no, it was becoming a village.

"Why do you call yourself nobody?"

"That's my name."

"You got to be kidding."

"No. My 'official' name is Egen. My mother had told me that it is swedish for nobody. She always told me that I was a nobody like my old man."

Now what could I have said to that? We just sat there again in silence for awhile.

"Why did you come to Ethiopia?"

"I just wondered my why here. I did not have any destination in mind after I left home."

"How old were you when you left home?"

"Fourteen. I looked older for my age so I was able to find work and move from place to place. I worked on farms, on ships, and even construction crews. Please no more questions. I just want to sit here and think."

That was the last time we talked before the troops came through the village in a jeep. Up to this time neither side of the civil war was aware of our existence. Now our peace was being shattered.

It was three of them. They started shoving women and children around. They were demanding we give them the food we had grown.

When one of the solders grabbed one of the women and started to drag her off Egen showed up. He appeared as if out of nowhere, knocking down the two solders on his way to the other one. With one punch he laid him out cold.

A couple of the men in the village grabbed the guns as the soldiers got up and drove off without their comrade. One of the men fired at the soldiers but Egen stopped him.

The laughter that filled the village so much of the time was now gone. Everyone knew that more soldiers were likely to come. Egen buried the guns and everyone prepared to move the camp in an effort to be gone before the soldiers came back.

Just as they were prepared to leave, as it was getting dark the soldiers arrived, about twenty of them. They said that all they wanted was the man that attacked their soldiers and all of their food. Since it was dark they would give the villagers until morning to give them what they wanted and they would go away. If anyone attempted to escape that person would be shot.

It was a very long night. I do not think anyone slept. I know I didn't.

I tried to talk with Egen about escaping but he would not even listen to me.

As the sun came up Egen got up and started walking for the soldiers. Immediately all, and I mean all, men, women and children, sprang up and tried to stop him. He kept telling them to go back but none would relent in attempting to stop him from certainly going to his death.

The captain saw the commotion and came over with his men. It was at this time that I notice there was a Chinese advisor with him.

As the captain approached the people grabbed the baskets of food they had and ran to pile up in front of the captain while still trying to push Egen back.

The captain fired a shot into the air to stop the struggle. Egen moved in front of the crowd. When the captain and his men aimed their weapons on him the people rushed in front of him, forming a living shield.

I myself was a coward. I secured myself behind a tree seeking safety while these Ethiopians shielded a stranger.

Egen looked over the people that shielded and surrounded him. I could see a tear rolling down his cheek. I think I found a tear on my face as well.

This sight so moved me that I left the minute safety of the tree to stand with Egen and those willing to take a bullet for him.

Egen looked into the eyes of that captain and said: "Let my people go."

I could not believe he said that. But he stood so erect and said it with such authority that I had never before even heard of.

He just stood there looking in the eyes of that captain for several minutes. One by one the guns were lowered until finally the pistol in the captain's hand was also lowered.

With this the people began to slowly move forward with Egen's urging. He stopped in front of the captain and just looked at him until everyone had passed. Then he began to follow.

Suddenly the Chinese advisor started screaming. He was commanding them to shoot everyone. None would comply. He even struck the captain, knocking him to the ground, still none would fire.

Then he took out his own pistol. He yelled for everyone to stop. Egen did not even turn around. Then he shot him, in the back. Everyone turned to look in horror on the one they were moments ago willing to die to protect.

The Chinaman again took aim to shoot another victim, but before he could fire there were several shots fired. The captain and several of the soldiers had shot him.

The captain then threw down his weapon as well as the others that had shot the Chinaman. He commanded the others to also throw down their weapons.

These soldiers that had come to kill ended up joining the villagers. They used the trucks to move them to another safe place.

In all of my days I had never saw so much change occur because of someone that just dug a ditch.

When war was all around and someone was needed to help these people and stop some of the killing Nobody was there.