In a military unit where, until recently, only men served, the girl’s appearance sparked a storm of emotions. At first, there was contempt. The soldiers whispered things like, “the weaker sex,” “she’s not fit for the military,” and “she won’t last long here.”

Gradually, this escalated into open ridicule. Sometimes they wouldn’t let her participate in strenuous exercises. Sometimes they joked that she would only “pour tea.”

Every day became a challenge. The soldiers constantly mocked her.

“Get a uniform a size smaller—maybe you’ll be faster,” some joked.

Others made caustic remarks during training:

“Be careful, don’t fall, or you’ll break another nail.”

And then one day, while the girl was changing in the locker room, her fellow soldiers noticed deep scars on her back. Laughter immediately followed.

“Look,” said one, “she must have had a bad date.”

“Or maybe she met a cheese grater,” added another.

The girl sat silently on the floor, unable to hold back her tears. But even her pain didn’t stop them.

At that moment, the door opened, and the general entered the room. He saw the girl sitting with her head down, surrounded by laughter.

“Do you even realize who you’re laughing at?” the general’s voice echoed throughout the locker room.

The soldiers instantly stopped, not daring to look up. Then the general told the terrible truth about the girl.

“Before you stands one of our country’s best intelligence officers,” the general said firmly.
“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 said, his voice cold with 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—she had become an example of strength and courage.