(2nd Update)

But Zviad's unscrupulous trampling on Soviet sovereignty also caused indignation among some true patriots, and the Soviet Red Army, who had fought for great ideals in the Great Patriotic War, although they were old, could no longer bear to see the bronze statue of Lenin that was pushed on TV. They voluntarily took to the streets to denounce the shameless acts of the separatist forces! Even in the face of the menacing troublesome students, Corporal Ivaul, a Soviet veteran who lost an arm in the defense of Stalingrad, was not afraid.

Corporal Ivauri, already gray-haired, stood in front of the crowd of students in his military uniform, with a serious expression. His surroundings were deserted, as fearless as he had been in the 1942 Foxhole against the Nazis, the Order of the Red Star on his chest glistening in the sun.

"Stop, kids, look what you're doing!" Corporal Ivauri reprimanded sternly, and he stood one step above in front of the marching students, the more indignant he became, the more he looked weak, and his empty cuffs swayed in the wind, as if telling of his distant comrades and former wounds.

Corporal Ivauri had a vague illusion that he was standing on the battlefield of the Great Patriotic War again, and after all his teammates were killed, he was the only one who pointed his Bobosha submachine gun at the invading Nazi enemy.

"Old man, what are you doing, get out of here." The students at the head don't care about him, what kind of threat can a stinky old man over the age of sixtieth pose to them. He raised his middle finger at Ivauri and said disdainfully, "A bad old man knows a fart, we are saving this country, saving from the ravages of Soviet brutes, and if you dare to oppose us, you are a traitor." ”

"Traitor?" Hearing this, Ivauri's muscles protruded, and he could no longer suppress the indignation in his heart, he grabbed the empty sleeve on the other side with his right hand, walked straight to the student who was taller than him, and said angrily, "Have you seen this?" When you were not even born, I was dedicating my youth to this country! In 1942, I lost an arm in the war, and my generation used blood to buy your stable life today, and you children who don't know the height of the sky want to destroy everything your father fought for! ”

"You can call me a bad old man, you can call me a disabled waste, but you can't call me a traitor, I love this country!"

Ivauri's lips trembled, and for a moment he remembered the commissar sitting with him on the battlefield filled with gunfire decades ago, chatting about the future in a brief ceasefire. He asked the commissar what his greatest wish was. The bespectacled, bookish political commissar replied to him, "I hope that our younger generations will never experience such war grief, and that they can grow up happily in a peaceful environment and become useful people to society." For such a bright future, I am willing to give everything I have. ”

Ivauri will always remember the wistful look in the young commissar's eyes as he spoke of this, as bright as the North Star. He also remembered the last charge, when the commissar who was running at the front fell to the ground when he was shot in the heart by an enemy bullet. The words of the commissar before his death still echoed in Ivauri's ears, not the same communist theme as wartime propaganda, but a simple sentence that could not be simpler, and he closed his eyes forever with a smile after speaking.

"Commissar, you said at the time that it was for the sake of the children, for the sake of the future. But you see what these kids are doing, they're ruining everything we're trying to do. Ivauri wiped his reddened eyes with his hand, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

The student leader was puzzled at first, why this bad old man suddenly stopped in front of him, and when his eyes swept to the Red Star medal on the old man's chest, he suddenly realized that this guy was the former Soviet Red Army. Just as he was about to let him go bypass and move on, an idea popped into his mind.

Since it was against Soviet power, why not shoot at this old fellow?

He made a quiet gesture to the already restless team behind him, and the originally noisy group slowly quieted down, and he turned to the students behind him and said, "Be quiet, listen to me." ”

The student leader pointed his left hand at Ivauri in front of him and shouted, "Aren't we going to oppose the regime in the Soviet Union?" Look, this old man in front of him is a lackey loyal to that brutal dictatorship! A slave who has been loyal to communism for decades, classmates, is such a lackey, and it is the stumbling block that hinders the progress of democracy in Georgia, we must not let go of such people, what should we do? ”

"Down with this Soviet lackey!" The students behind him shouted in unison, humiliating Ivauri in the most vicious terms, ignoring that the other party was an old man in his last years.

"Yes, down with the Soviet lackeys, long live the Georgian Democratic Front!" The student leader repeated a slogan, and one of the students next to him had a bottle of milk in his hand, and he snatched it up and walked over to Ivawuli.

"What do you want to do!" Ivauri stared at this man viciously, and to be honest, he wanted to slap him in the face, but the discipline that had always been emphasized in the army was deeply imprinted in his heart, and Ivauri did not attack this junior who did not know the height of the sky.

Without saying a word, he picked up the bottle of milk, held it high over Ivauri's head, and poured the whole glass of milk on him, the white milk slowly left behind his hat, through the shining red star on the hat, through the solemn and neat military uniform, through his old tear-stained eyes, and through a disappointed and sad heart.

After pouring the milk, he swallowed the bottle and made a triumphant gesture to the person behind him, only to be punched head-on when he turned his head. Ivauri pounced on an angry lion at the student leader, and as the crowd exclaimed, the young and strong student held back his strength and pushed Ivauri back, the humiliated veteran could no longer be as young and powerful as he had slit the Nazi's throat. He was pushed to the ground directly by the student leader, and the medal on his chest also fell into the mud, covering it with a layer of dust, obscuring the bright light of the medal shining in the sun.

The student leader wiped the blood from his nostrils, walked over and stepped on Ivauri's chest, and said sarcastically, "I'll fuck you, get out of here, an old man still wants to do it, and don't look at how many people there are behind us, you're just alone." Who is there to dare to talk to us like that, lackey! ”

Ivauri looked at him with unyielding eyes, and when his hand touched his chest and found that the medal was missing, he quickly struggled to get up and find back the glory that once belonged to him.

The sharp-eyed student leader saw the fallen Red Star Medal, and he stepped on it before Ivauri could reach for it, and kicked it hard into the black, smelly roadside ditch, and the Red Star Medal fell into the pool along with the sludge.

"A lackey should look like a lackey, don't always look like a high-minded one." He sneered and beckoned the classmates behind him to continue walking, not paying attention to this person.

The group of students moved on, some of the students who passed in front of Ivauri shaking their heads sympathetically, some of them indifferently walking past him and sneering in return, while others spat at Ivauri's body.

Everyone had forgotten those war-torn years, and the old man's company had died except him in order to defend their country, and the blood and banners of those fathers had been exchanged for waste and humiliation.

"Company commander, political commissar, I'm really sorry for you." Ivauri touched his eyes with the back of his dirty hands, and he couldn't stop crying, leaving black marks on his face, like those gray-faced young faces of the Great Patriotic War. Only this time he fell, but he never got up again.

And on this day, all those who passed by the street saw an old man in a dirty military uniform sitting on the street, burying his head in his arms, whimpering and crying.