Met Ukrainian hero today

I work in Dutch hotel, night shift. At 530 this guy comes in asking for two beers. He used a translator and I saw what looked like Russian. So i just spoke what little Russian I know, with gestures as Dutch people try whenever they speak even just one word of a language.

We actually aren’t allowed to sell beers after 1am though. But I thought fuck it. He’s a guest and he seemed chill. Perk of not having a manager look over your shoulder. As I take the beers out, he offers me one, but obviously I can’t at work, so I say “nyet, spasiba.” He then asks to pay by card, saying “karta”?

As I walk him to the checkout I blurt out “Russki, blyat”, seeing as how Russian swearwords make up 80% of my vocabulary in that language. He smiles wryly and says “da. Ya, Ukraini”

With a sinking realisation I say “Slava Ukraini”, which he returns with a heartfelt “heroyam slava”. I saw the pain in his eyes though. I could literally see the dark times in which he brought that salute flash by. I felt bad for reminding him- as if one could forget though, right?

What happened next floored me. He lifts up his shirt showing huge scars (one almost a foot long) in his belly from fuck knows what wounds. “War.” He says.

I was stunned, but still managed to say “spasiba” and give him a fist bump. I then pushed away his phone saying “karta, nyet.”

Aint no goddamn hero buying their own beers on my watch.