Chapter 93 Goodbye, General

He Changyi booked half of the restaurant.

A group of weary and dejected veterans filed in and entered the building they had once defended.

The waiter, though furious, dared not speak out. He slammed the bottle down in anger, then turned around, rolling his eyes as he went to serve the appetizers. He carried herring and potatoes in his left hand and pickled mushrooms in his right, with a plate piled high with meat jelly on top of it, looking like he was performing acrobatics.

The kitchen was bustling with activity. The generous Ms. Zhong Guo ordered roast suckling pig and pan-fried veal, which was quite a task, keeping even the helpers extremely busy.

The veteran who appeared to be the leader, who was blind in one eye, said politely to He Changyi, "Comrade, we just need to sit down and rest. Please don't order any food; it's too wasteful."

He Changyi said, "This is nothing to me. You are war heroes. It's just a meal. Please don't take it to heart."

One hot-tempered veteran said, "Heroes? What kind of heroes are we? Does anyone in this country even remember us old folks?! They'd rather throw us into a furnace like Union statues, or just dump us in the junkyard!"

The leading veteran immediately reprimanded, "Lieutenant Colonel, watch your words and actions!"

The hot-tempered veteran reluctantly replied, "Yes, General Menshak."

He Changyi was somewhat surprised, never expecting that this seemingly ordinary old soldier would actually be a general.

Meanwhile, Lermontov, the bodyguard from Ego, was clearly much more excited.

He asked eagerly, "General Mensack? You're the General Mensack who decisively defeated the elite German troops on the battlefield?!"

The leading veteran said calmly, "I think if there isn't a second Menshak, then you're probably talking about me."

Lermontov snapped his feet together and solemnly saluted the one-eyed general.

"Respect to you, Lermontov, former operations staff officer of the tank regiment of the 1st Brigade of the 9th Guards Motorized Rifle Division!"

General Menshak raised his hand in return, and seeing Lermontov standing respectfully to the side, refusing to sit down, he calmly said, "Please sit down, Major Lermontov. This is not the army, and I am no longer a general."

Lermontov hesitated for a moment before sitting down, but his back was ramrod straight, as if a steel bar had been inserted into it.

Grandma Vitalie glanced at the group and said in a relaxed tone, “What a coincidence, my husband was also a soldier. He was buried ten years ago wearing all his medals, which were even closer to his heart than our wedding rings.”

General Menshak listened attentively, nodded when he finished, and said, "Your husband is very lucky."

Grandma Vitalie said happily, "He really has always been a lucky guy."

The hot-tempered veteran exclaimed, "I wish I could be as lucky as your husband! To die as a hero, not a beggar!"

beggar?

It turns out that these veterans solemnly wore their old uniforms and half-body medals not only to commemorate the anniversary of the victory in the war, but also to protest and put pressure on the authorities to demand an increase in the amount of subsidies for retired soldiers.

After all, in Oros, where inflation is rampant, continuing to use the subsidy standards established during the Union era is tantamount to slowly torturing these soldiers who once risked their lives for the country.

The government subsidies they receive each month aren't even enough for a decent meal, and the purchasing power of their savings is shrinking dramatically.

Lermontov used himself as an example, saying bitterly, "My salary was only enough to buy a kilogram of the cheapest sausage or ten flatbreads, but I had three children. I had no choice but to sell my dog, it..."

He suddenly stopped, as if something was stuck in his throat, and after a long while, he managed to squeeze out the next half of the sentence: "It was sold to the butcher shop..."

Lermontov couldn't continue; he looked extremely distressed.

An old soldier patted him on the shoulder and comforted him, saying, "That's how it is. Back on the battlefield, we were surrounded by the Germans and couldn't escape, but we had to survive, so we had to kill my horse, cut open its belly, and empty its internal organs so that people could crawl inside and hide."

As he spoke, the old soldier fell silent, and after a long while, he murmured, "That was truly a fine horse..."

To support his family, Lermontov took on all sorts of jobs, sometimes as a loader, working alongside surgeons and pianists; sometimes as a repairman, unclogging toilets and fixing roofs—he would do anything for money.

He also worked as a security guard, but his targets weren't wealthy businessmen; they were prostitutes working the night shift.

In any case, the young Lermontov can still find work and earn money, while these veterans no longer have that opportunity.

At the end of their lives, they are forced into poverty and hardship, like an old dog that has been abandoned by its owner and is barely clinging to life.

The newly formed nation does not need them.

General Menshak led the way in demanding higher subsidies from the government, but he didn't seem as indignant as the other veterans. Instead, he appeared calm, yet one could sense his deep-seated weariness and numbness.

“Our era ended before our lives,” he said. “Death is a relief.”

The hot-tempered veteran shouted, "I'd rather die than surrender! Those guys in the White House have taken everything from us—our wealth, our honor, and our future! But they can't take away our faith! Even if the last Lenin statue is toppled, my heart will never change!"

He jumped excitedly onto a chair, waving his fist and shouting, "To hell with democracy, long live the Bolsheviks!"

Other veterans echoed their voices, singing a song from fifty years ago: "Forward! Fear not death, you will not die in vain, your blood has built your foundation..."

They sang this song as they charged into German tank formations on the battlefield, and they also sang this song as they buried their comrades in tears.

Fifty years have passed in the blink of an eye, and those young people who once rode in caravans to the front lines are now old and frail.

Did their ideals come true?

The young waiter brought over the roast suckling pig, muttering, "If it weren't for you guys, we'd be living the same good life as Europeans long ago!"

The rousing singing suddenly stopped, and the atmosphere in the restaurant seemed to freeze.

The hot-tempered veteran slammed his fist on the table and was about to stand up when General Menshak stopped him and calmly said to the waiter, "Son, do you know anything about history?"

The waiter scoffed, “History books? They’re full of lies! You even glorify butchers who liked to shoot young White Army officers as heroes! You killed those brave knights!”

The hot-tempered veteran couldn't hold back any longer and shouted angrily, "Those are the White Army! If it weren't for our Red Army liberating everyone, you'd still be a serf for those noble lords!"

The waiter said dismissively, "Then you'll probably continue singing hymns in the labor camp! The only right thing Stalin did was throw all of you fanatics into labor camps!"

The veterans were furious, but utterly powerless.

This is not their era, this is not their country.

Just as the waiter was about to leave, smugly holding his head high like a victorious rooster, someone suddenly called out to him.

“I paid the restaurant more than double the amount, not to have a waiter lecture my guest.”

He Changyi tapped the table and coldly said to the waiter, "Apologize, or I'll smash up your store."

The waiter was both shocked and furious, shouting, "You're threatening me! This is illegal!"

He Changyi didn't say much to him, and turned to look at the two bodyguards. Before she could speak, Lermontov, who had been holding back for a long time, stood up first and even took out his gun pouch from his waist and slammed it on the table!

Xie Xuejun was confused. His Emei dialect was still limited to urging others to drink and using foul language. He didn't understand what was going on, but whatever, he would just listen to his boss.

He followed suit and slammed the gun case on the table, glaring threateningly at the pale-faced waiter.

Whether out of stubbornness or simply being terrified, the waiter remained silent, his lips trembling.

"Since you like capitalism, then play by the rules of capitalism."

He Changyi lost patience. Seeing that he didn't speak, she was about to wave her hand to signal him to start smashing things when the restaurant manager who was hiding nearby hurriedly jumped out.

"I apologize! I apologize to you on his behalf!"

He Changyi asked him, "So where were you just now? Were you watching your waiters humiliate customers? Or is it that your restaurant's style is to condone waiters verbally abusing customers?"

Lermontov obediently drew his gun and cocked it with a click.

The restaurant manager, sweating profusely, forced a smile: "I'm sorry, I apologize, I apologize too..."

At the same time, he forcefully pressed down on the waiter's head and yelled, "You stupid pig, how dare you say such rude things to a customer! You must apologize immediately!"

The waiter was forced to lower his head and reluctantly said "sorry," his voice so low that even the dog couldn't hear him.

He Changyi pointed to himself in confusion: "Apologize to me?"

Under the gun, the restaurant manager's mind worked incredibly fast. He immediately realized what was happening, grabbed the waiter and turned him towards the veterans, saying repeatedly, "I'm sorry, he was too young and didn't know any better. You are national heroes, please forgive this ignorant child!"

As he spoke, he pinched the waiter so hard that the veins on the back of his hand bulged, the force comparable to that of pliers.

The waiter was in so much pain he wanted to cry out, but he still didn't want to apologize, especially not to the group of veterans.

Damn old fogey...bloodthirsty war criminal...accomplice of totalitarianism...

They should have died long ago. If it weren't for them, he would be drinking beer and watching a football game in his villa right now, instead of being a poor and overworked waiter whose monthly salary couldn't even buy a pair of jeans!

The restaurant manager gritted his teeth and whispered in the waiter's ear, "If you don't apologize, I'll fire you!"

The waiter was jolted awake from his dream of enjoying beer in the villa.

He lowered his head and forced out a sentence through gritted teeth: "I'm sorry..."

He Changyi asked with dissatisfaction, "What are you saying? I can't hear you."

Once you start talking, it seems like it doesn't matter what you say next.

The waiter, in a fit of desperation, shouted, "Sorry! I misspoke! You're heroes! I apologize, okay?"

He Changyi was still not satisfied, but General Menshak spoke up, saying calmly, "Child, you are just too young. One day you will see the true history. Everything we did was for our country, for the next generation, and for all mankind."

The waiter looked indignant, clearly not taking General Menshak's words to heart.

But General Menshak simply waved his hand, indicating that he could leave.

The restaurant manager breathed a sigh of relief, grabbed the waiter, and left. He couldn't keep a ticking time bomb here any longer!

He Changyi looked at General Menshak questioningly, but he simply said, "There's no point in arguing."

He paused, then said, "We need to persuade not just a young person, but the whole society, a society without ideals or beliefs."

Grandma Vitalie nodded in agreement.

"Our era is over."

The veterans silently ate all the food on the table, and as they left, they slipped hundreds or thousands of rubles under their plates.

It wasn't a lot of money, but it was the most they could offer.

He Changyi asked Lermontov to return the money to the veterans, but these old guys with missing arms and legs were quite stubborn.

"I'm not a beggar! I can't walk into my grave with my hands outstretched in begging!"

"Even when I'm old, I can't let a young woman treat me."

"Take it, child. It's not much, but it's our token of appreciation."

The veterans bid farewell to He Changyi one by one and walked unsteadily into the approaching dusk.

Some people say, "May God bless us."

Another person said, "God doesn't care about little people!"

General Menshak bid farewell to He Changyi at the end.

"Thank you, my child. You have given a pack of old dogs a good meal. They will never forget this, even in their graves."

He Changyi asked, "Is there anything I can do? I mean, I could recruit some people to work..."

General Menshak gently but firmly stopped her from speaking.

“Child, you have done enough. The country has abandoned us, but we are not your responsibility.”

He gave He Changyi a military salute.

Goodbye, my child.

Some time later, He Changyi saw a news article in the corner of the newspaper: the government refused to increase subsidies for veterans.

Some time later, He Changyi saw an obituary.

—The famous World War II general Menshak committed suicide by shooting himself at the site of the battlefield.

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Author's Note: General Mensak is a fictional character, but a marshal did indeed commit suicide during the collapse of the Soviet Union. Sigh, my feelings remain mixed.