On a plane, a woman yelled at a young soldier, calling him a traitor to the Motherland. But the next day, she read his name in the news and regretted her actions 
The plane cabin was quiet as usual. People dozed, some looked out the window. Next to the woman sat a young soldier of about fifty. His uniform was neat, but his gaze was empty and tired. He looked at the floor, and it seemed as if his thoughts were somewhere far away, not here, but out there, among the smoke, screams, and fire.
A flight attendant approached him. Her voice was quiet, but genuine sympathy was evident in it:
“Sir, I just learned about your comrades. I’m so sorry. You should know: you are a true hero. We are proud of you.”
The soldier nodded, smiled tensely, as if for propriety’s sake, and lowered his head again. His hands trembled, and his eyes remained cold and lost.
The woman next to him, who had been watching him with open contempt until then, suddenly couldn’t bear it. Her voice was sharp, almost accusatory:
“A hero? You’re a traitor. How can you live knowing you failed to save your friends?”
The soldier looked up. Tears glistened in his eyes, despair written on his face. But he remained silent.
The woman, as if sensing a weakening, continued, her anger unchecked:
“You thought only of yourself, just to save yourself! You survived, and they are no more. How will you look their mothers in the eyes? Their wives? You are a monster!”
Every word struck a piercing chord. The soldier sat silently, his lips pressed into a thin line. There was no anger or protest in his gaze—only pain.
It was clear he already bore a burden heavier than any punishment. But the woman continued speaking. For a long time. Over and over again, as if deliberately adding insult to injury.
When the plane landed, she stood up and walked past him without even a glance. She thought she’d said what she had to say.
And the next day, everything changed.
Opening the news, the woman saw a familiar face. There he was on the screen—the very same soldier from the plane. Having learned the whole truth about the guy, the woman deeply regretted her actions.
Under the photo, in large letters: “One saved twenty soldiers. A true hero.”
She read the text, and her heart sank. The report described how, during a fire at a military base, a young soldier, risking his own life, carried twenty of his comrades out of the flames.
One after another, on his shoulders, in smoke and flames. He returned again and again, until he collapsed from exhaustion. But as the fire intensified, five of his friends remained inside. He simply didn’t have time to go back for them.
He blamed himself. He considered himself responsible for their de:aths. But to everyone else, he was a hero. He had done what was impossible for one person to do.
The woman dropped her phone on the table. Her eyes filled with tears. Yesterday, without knowing it, she had unleashed all her anger on him.
She had called him a traitor, a monster, not realizing that sitting next to her was a man who had given everything he had for others. A man who had saved twenty lives.
Now she felt excruciating shame. Those words could not be taken back. She understood: perhaps her cruelty would become yet another burden for him to carry in his soul.
And she suddenly realized: sometimes we judge without knowing the truth. Sometimes we hurt those who are already broken. And then it is too late to apologize.
