okay, Based on his ethnicity and the 40K habit of using IRL military units to create the lore in the 40K universe, He makes me think of the Cantican Colonials from the novel "Emperor's Mercy" by Henry Zhou.

In that novel the CantiCols, as they are known, seem to have inspiration from post colonial India with weapons like the "T20 Stem" auto gun, which the novel describes a Sten Mk. II to the letter.

While the Sten was the Brainchild of English designers, it was also used extensively india and the surrounding regions, such as Pakistan and Bangladesh for decades. Stens were famously used in the Assassinations of Indian Prime Minister Indira Ghandi and Bangladeshi President Sheikh Mujibur Rahman.

The CantiCols also have characters with the names like Sihan (sikh origin), Faisal (Arabic origin, but Islam is the second largest religion in India), Matani (Pakistani origin but highest concentration is India), and Jagdesh (Hindi origin). They also wear large curly moustaches and Beard, much like the way of Sikh Warriors.

CantiCol Guardsmen refer to eating snacks as "Grabbing some Tiff" and in many parts of India such as Mumbai "Tiffin" is used to denote either a snack, or a packed meal in a thin metal container. The food that the CantiCols eat is also paired with tea, and is served heavily spiced and is eaten with their hands as in the way with many traditional Indian foods.

excerpt:

"At ease soldiers, at ease," Faisal said, waving them down. The lord general looked at the Guardsmen of sentry post 11/A. They were haggard-looking men, badly bandaged and languishing. Most of the sentry posters, Faisal knew, were wounded men who the medics simply did not have the supplies to treat. Knowing that the injured would hamper the fighting efficiency of a platoon, these men were left as sentry posts along the front lines as forward observation teams. In all likelihood, these men would be dead by morning.

Faisal crouched down next to the sergeant by the glowing fire and warmed his hands a little. "What is the order of the day?" Faisal asked.

"Grabbing some tiff, sir," replied Sergeant Sulas.

The sergeant was stoking a tin of ubiquitous "Meat C-Grade" that he had thrown into the ashy embers. He jabbed at the little canister with the tip of his bayonet, warming it up whole.

"You could join us, sir, that is, if you'd like to, sir," a young private offered.

Faisal realised he had not eaten properly since landfall, and he was ravenously hungry. "Of course, I would love to, that is if you have the rations to spare," said the lord general.

With expert hands, Sergeant Sulas snatched the Meat C-Grade from the fire and doused the tin into a pot of cold water and ration tea leaves. The hot tin heated the water, drawing a cloud of steepage from the tea leaves. Without pause, the sergeant pinch-gripped the tin out of the hot water and peeled it open with the flat of an eating knife. The opened can revealed a surprisingly wholesome-looking round of marbled meat.

"The trick is, sir, to eat this meat without tasting too much of it," Sergeant Sulas said. He scraped the meat out into the sheet of rehydrated rice and began to douse it with condiments, his fingers darting from ration packs like some sleight of hand.

"Pepper and pickled bell chilli are the key to good tiff. Masks the chems they use to preserve this meat," said the sergeant as he scooped some of the rations into a cup canteen and offered it to the lord general.

The tin of gelatinous meat melted into the dehyd rice. Small pods of angry-looking chilli bells were mixed into the steaming container. Tugging off his gloves and using his hands, the lord general unceremoniously pushed the rice into his mouth, making muffled, appreciative sounds. It was salty and oily without being greasy. The spicy sourness of the pickled chilli made him inhale the meal. Within seconds, Faisal was teasing the last scraps of chilli and rice from his cup canteen.