Joining the Army
JOINING THE ARMY
My parents were staring at me, unbelieving. My brothers burst out laughing. All I did was to tell them that I want to join the army. I always was the ‘sweet little girl’ in my family. My two older brothers kept an eye on me, I am quite a bit younger than they are. Somehow I wanted to show my whole family, that I am strong and independent too… and I really did not want to follow the plans of my parents, who wanted me to marry a nice boy, have nice children, and give nice barbecues … and so on.
My eldest brother joined the army some years ago. I remember him when he visited us. I liked his uniform and – at that time I was 12 – decided to go to the army. Now I am 19 and still I want to do it. After some discussions with my parents, and with some help of my brothers I signed my contract with the army, and 3 months later I left home.
Arriving at the training camp the usual starting preparations were begun… I got a bed, orders to follow and a date with the doctor… and, my instructor told us, with a glimpse at my long, red hair, that were all to get a new hairstyle. A hairstyle that would be more ‘suitable’ for us, in our new ‘Army’ life. Looking at his sheared head I could imagine, what he counted as suitable.
I had very long, red hair. I usually wore it in a pony-tail. After looking around a bit I saw other women in the crowd, but they all had quite short hair. Not as short as the men, but a very short bob was the longest hairstyle I saw around. Then I knew that I would have to cut my hair. But now, looking around, I didn’t feel very comfortable with the idea. To join the army was so exiting for me, that I hadn’t really given much thought to the usual Army haircut. Losing my long hair that I always tried to keep in a good condition. Not a very pleasant thought.
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In the afternoon we all had to go to the hairdresser. Lined up in two lines- men and women – were the new recruits waiting to receive their ‘regulation’ haircuts. Peeping through the door I could see a large room. Two chairs were placed in the middle of it. Two tall, muscular men were doing the haircuts. They used clippers, which were attached to something that looked like a small boom-crane.
In the back of the room we stood, lining up for what was to come. The cropping was, mercifully, very quick. As soon, as a recruit sat down on one of the chairs, they started to shave his had. The sound of the clippers could be heard clearly. Someone from time to time removed the hair covering the floor. There were some women too. They – planning ahead more than me – had already visited their usual hairdressers at home, before they got there, for the short ‘off-the-collar’ style. After a short inspection by one of the men, they were usually allowed to keep their hairstyle, and even if they cut a little more off, to clear the collar line, they at least had hair left. One could not say that of the male recruits leaving the chairs.
As my turn came closer and closer, I felt the eyes of about 50 men in line, watching me. Some smiling, looking forward to the show that my shearing would give them. I was a little frightened, but I recalled the motivation that brought me here, and that calmed me down a little.
I saw her walking towards my chair. A tall girl with long red hair. Her eyes were dark blue and her body seemed so slim . I smiled a little. Not too often was I presented with the possibility to shear off the pretty hair of a woman. Cutting women’s hair was always an arousing experience for me. Unfortunately I had not much chance since I joined the army…. but this girl was really something. I watched her coming closer and saw the other guys following her with their eyes. It seemed to me that their breathing got a little louder and deeper. She arrived at the chair and I asked her to sit down.
“Is this the only style you can do?” she asked, pointing to the other chair. Sitting on it was a man who had a nearly totally sheared head. Her voice seemed to tremble a little.
I smiled to myself. “Unfortunately that is what I do best. You should have gone to the hairdressers before you came here.” I answered, taking the clippers in my right hand and turning them on. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and asked, looking at me with an questioning look.
“Would a flat top be possible?” That was an surprise. I smiled my grateful agreement at her. I took a quick look at the men standing around. They were all staring at us. When I lowered the clippers down to her head, I could actually feel the tension rising in the room.
I decided to leave her hair at the top about 1 inch long and shear it at the sides and the neck. I could imagine her looking great with this kind of hairstyle. I chose the clipping- distance guide for the cropper and took the strand on the top of her head in my left hand. “Off we go” I said, running the clippers over her head. My neighbor stopped with his doing to watch us. Taking a strand with the left hand, cropping it with the clippers. … I handed her the strand. No one said a word.
After finishing the top I decided to crop her hair in equal lengths at first and then shave the sides and the neck. Quickly I made my way all over her head. She collected the strands of her hair on her legs. I could feel her head pressing against the clippers. After finished the first step I took the guide off the clippers. To make the scene even more dramatic to the watching audience I dropped it on the floor. Then I moved to her side. Carefully I sheared the side-hair above her left cheek, slowly moving backwards. Then the right side. Finished with her sides I moved to the neck. Starting at her nape I ran the clippers up her head. She pressed her chin on her chest. I could see her skin through the short stubble on her head. Fixing her in position with my hand, I could not help touching her head. The feeling this stubble gave me was certainly different. I felt myself warming up a bit. Concentrating on the remaining hairs to crop I finished quickly. Again I touched her shorn neck.
After I tuned off the clippers she touched her head too. She looked great. Her eyes seemed much bigger now and she looked more like a grown up woman.
A strange feeling was this. My head was kind of lighter than before. When stroking my neck now, I had a complete new feeling. It was kind of arousing to do it. I gave the hairdresser a smile. He looked like he had enjoyed it too. The other men standing around were staring at me with a quite odd expression. I took the strands and left to what I wanted to do most now.
Looking into a mirror, in the next washing room I ran my hands over the cropped stubble, and warm, shaved scalp. looked into the mirror and saw a complete different person. I liked it. I found it was a good style for my new life that I had just started.