“She served when you were still in kindergarten. These very scars are the result of a combat mission. Her entire company was ambushed, and they’re only alive because she rescued her wounded comrades.
She was seriously wounded, but she didn’t retreat.”
Silence gripped the room. The smiles vanished, and shame crept across their faces. “Instead of thanking her for her service, you laugh at her scars,” the general looked at them with cold severity.
“Shame on such men.”
“Why… why didn’t you tell us?” one of the soldiers asked cautiously. The girl looked up, wiped away her tears, and quietly said,
“I was just doing my job. Nothing to brag about.”
The soldiers bowed their heads.
Then one extended his hand. The others followed suit. “Forgive me… and thank you for your service,” said the youngest.
From that day on, no one called her “the weaker.” She was now more than just a coworker, but an example of strength and courage.
