In the picture there was a young lieutenant.
— Who is this? he asked quietly.
— My son.
The corridor became silent.
The chief slowly raised his eyes to the old man. Pain appeared in his gaze.
— This is the very lieutenant… who saved us during the war.
He slowly went down on one knee in front of the elderly man.
— He covered a grenade with his own body. There were ten of us. We are all alive only because of him.
The policemen stood silently. In front of them was the father of a hero, and they had treated him this way.
