“The Lady in Pink.”

One day, an Austrian colleague was transferred to us. He was from the Special Forces, from Cobra. He was steep in behavior and all covered with scars, indicating a saturated professional activity.
To be fair, it must be said that he was really a professional in our craft, but with the establishment of interpersonal contacts he was tight. Very tight.
Within a few days we all realized that he was a decent goat. What will you do?
Mikael had a horizontal scar on the left side of his forehead, right above his eyebrow, about one and a half centimeters long. The evil Norwegian languages claimed that through this incision a part of his brain was removed. In my opinion, this version explained a lot in his behavior.
We were then based in Mitrovica. This was a real problem point on the map of Kosovo. On the bridge separating northern (Serbian) Mitrovica and southern (Albanian) Mitrovica, shootings and clashes between Serbs and Albanians occurred almost daily.
We had to, sometimes several times a day, go out and “separate” them. Each officer had a large bag, which contained a rubber shovel, a helmet with removal, plastic bracelets, anti-gas, grenades with tear gas, armor, all sorts of headsets, sleeves and the like.
If an emergency happened, we simply took our bags and went “to bring peace and harmony, law and order, to serve and protect.”
By the moment I described, Mikael had finally captured all his colleagues with his arrogance and contempt. And it was inadequate - our boys gathered honorably.
Now imagine another fight on the bridge, the Albanians trying to break into the Serbian side. We get orders, grab our bags and fly to the place. Without reaching a couple of tens of meters, we jump out of the cars and start to dress. We don’t get in close because the locals were very pleased to burn our cars at the slightest possible.
Everything was fine, but when Mikael opened his bag, it turned out that everything, absolutely everything in it, was carefully painted by the caring hands of colleagues in a gentle pink color. Thanks to the Serbian pulverization industry.
He blew up from insult. What to do? Time does not wait. So he had to run between Serbs and Albanians in a pink armor jersey, in a pink helmet and with a pink bush, shocking them with his unexpected and unserious appearance.
We couldn’t even work out of laughter. Everyone was crushed: international police, even Albanians and Serbs.
Mikhail understood the situation correctly and moved to another unit. But even there, until the end of his service, he was nicknamed "Lady in pink."