The morning silence filled the train — the rumble of the wheels, a few quiet conversations, and the smell of coffee from thermoses. People were buried in their phones, hurrying to work.
At one station, a young woman entered — slender, not very tall, with a neat bun and a calm expression. She wore a beige coat with a belt, buttoned up to the neck.
She sat down across from a man in a military uniform, covered in medals. He was a lieutenant colonel — stern, confident, with the posture of a man used to authority.
He glanced at her and frowned. He thought he saw something under her coat that looked like a military collar — dark green, official-looking.
A flicker of irritation crossed his face. Perhaps it was pride, perhaps boredom, but something pushed him to act.
— What’s that under your coat? — he asked sharply, leaning forward.
The young woman looked at him in surprise but said nothing.
— I asked you, where did you get that uniform? — he raised his voice. — What, are you playing soldier now? Or did you buy it online for likes?
A few passengers turned their heads, curious.
The woman exhaled slowly.
— Excuse me, but I didn’t give you permission to speak to me in that tone, — she said calmly.
— Didn’t give me permission?! — he snapped. — I’ve served in the army for twenty years, and I won’t tolerate someone who has nothing to do with it wearing a uniform! It’s sacred! Take it off immediately!
He spoke loudly and forcefully, so much so that even nearby passengers stopped whispering. The young woman sat still, looking straight into his eyes.
— Are you finished? — she asked quietly.
Under the coat was a perfectly pressed military uniform with the emblem of the special forces and the insignia of a major. Medals gleamed on her chest. The woman took out her military ID and placed it in front of him.
— Major of the special forces, — she said evenly, without raising her voice. — It’s good to see you defend the honor of the army so passionately. Odd, though, that you do it by shouting at a fellow officer in public.
A heavy silence filled the subway car. The lieutenant colonel turned pale, his lips trembling. He wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.
— I think command will be interested to know how you “defend the army’s honor” — and with whom you think you can speak like that, — she continued, calmly buttoning her coat again. — Or perhaps you’d prefer to simply apologize?
The man swallowed hard, leaned back, and murmured almost inaudibly:
— I’m sorry, comrade major… I… didn’t know.
She nodded without looking at him.
— Sometimes it’s better to know who you’re talking to first, — she said softly, then exited at the next station, leaving the car in tense silence.
The passengers stared at the lieutenant colonel, who didn’t lift his head — he only let out a deep sigh.
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