The Bald Recruit

It was my turn. I looked at the soldier with all the kindness I could muster, and while I tied the scarf around my neck, I dared to say to him.
-At the reception desk I asked if they would let me keep this little braid with colours… I’ve had it for many years, you know? I’d be sorry to cut it, although I know of course that it is obligatory to have short hair…
The man looked at me over his shoulder and said:
-We’ll see what can be done…
The rules were very clear: Girls had to have their hair very short: two on the sides and short with scissors on top. A very few lucky ones were allowed to have a little fringe: that was when they were liked by either the barbers at the barracks, or the sergeants, who turned a blind eye during the dreaded check-ups.
The girls next to me had already started to get their hands on them. The other two soldiers in the room mercilessly cut their locks from almost the beginning. They would soon start with me.
The soldier looked at me maliciously.
-So you want to keep this braid, right…?
-Yes… is that allowed? I’m fond of it, it’s important to me…
-Bow your head… And don’t move.
I felt the machine on my neck. Directly, without mercy. But I also felt the soldier move aside the long braid that I had kept for years and that was a sign of my identity, just like my blond hair, which would soon become history… I was very nervous, but happy that the soldier had respected my wishes.
In 5 minutes, my neck was shaved to two, and my braid hung from the right end of my head. Maybe, if I allowed myself to wear my hair a little longer on top, the effect wouldn’t be so terrible… The truth is that it seemed that I had fallen in favor of that big and serious barber.
He left the machine on the table. He took some scissors, and began to work on the areas on the sides and in front. I looked at the girls next to me, they were pale, looking at themselves in the mirrors, silently lamenting the loss of their beautiful hair, but not daring to say anything…
Did it seem like that to me or was I letting it grow a little longer than allowed? ‘Lucky me,’ I thought. I’ve come across a nice guy… He worked and worked with the scissors, and at one point, I could see my neck in the mirror behind him… A good shave, yes sir! But at least my skin wasn’t showing, and I would have something to comb… The girl next to me was not so lucky: Her barber insisted with the scissors and was giving her a very close military cut… The girl was pale… Out of the corner of her eye she looked at her hair, cut on the floor.
When I thought he was done with me, I sighed in relief: Although it was a very close cut, it wasn’t as extreme as the girl next to me… I was about to get up and take off my cape, when the soldier pushed me back gently into the chair. Adjusting the scarf a little tighter, he said:
-You know?? It’s not quite how I like it… Wait, I’ll go over it a little more…
I was alarmed. More?? Mmmm… I didn’t like this. I shifted restlessly in my seat watching how he picked up the machine again, and how, calmly, he removed the guide with which he had shaved my neck.
-Have you read the sign at the entrance of the barbershop?
I was completely caught off guard, because he had just applied the machine to my neck… He was shaving me from behind? Sign… what sign…??
-Mm…Nno…
-Yeah. Well, it says very clearly: TALKING TO THE BARBER IS PROHIBITED.
I went up and up with the machine. I could feel the air, I could feel how there were parts where there was barely a strip of hair left…
-I’m sorry… I didn’t notice…
-Yeah… Don’t move, let’s go with the top part.
I breathed a sigh of relief when he put the machine back on the table and picked up the scissors again… He started cutting, and cutting… I told myself that perhaps he had gone a bit too far earlier, leaving it longer than allowed, and on top of that with the braid… Maybe he regretted it because it was possible that the sergeants would reprimand him for leaving a recruit with more hair than allowed by the rules… However, he was starting to give me a good military cut, almost as much as the girl next to me, with whom they were almost done…
I started to get very nervous when he put down the scissors and started looking at me seriously, as if studying the cut… For the moment, the result was the following: My neck was shaved to zero, almost from the beginning of my ears. From there he had been trimming with scissors until leaving me a strip, very short, about 1 cm, on the sides. I consoled myself that the top wasn’t too extreme of a cut… I still had to comb my hair… Of course, my braid was hanging down, although it looked a little ridiculous… Would he let me go now?
The blonde next to me had left, half crying, to make way for another girl. This one had been forward-thinking and had cut her hair before coming… It was something I had been warned about, but I didn’t pay attention and began to think that it was true that if you came with all your hair, they were more cruel with the cut…And not only that: On top of that I had asked to leave my braid and…it was forbidden to talk to the barber…I was beginning to think that I had just made a lot of mistakes…
The barber picked up the machine again. Ironically he said:
-I don’t know…I don’t see it clearly…If I leave your braid, that will be too much hair on your head…More than we allow here…So we’re going to have to compensate in another way…Right…?
-Well…it’s not necessary…
He silenced me with a shout that was heard throughout the room:
-SSSSSHHHHTtt¡¡¡ SHUT UP¡¡ YOU DON’T TALK TO THE BARBER¡¡¡STICK YOUR EYES ON THAT MIRROR AND DON’T MOVE A MILLIMETER OR IT WILL BE WORSE¡¡¡
Everyone was looking at me. The other barbers began to smile at each other as they continued to work…
I sat firmly in the chair and closed my mouth. I forced myself to stare at the huge mirror and watched as he slowly applied the clippers directly to my forehead and began to shave me mercilessly. My hopes of seeing myself with some hair on top vanished as quickly as my locks, which fell scandalously to the floor. Soon, the top shave joined the neck, I only had a little of my beautiful hair left on the sides, with a huge friar’s tonsure, and of course, in the braid. I looked ridiculous.
In a few seconds, I would be an almost bald girl. While he went over my forehead again and again, until he finished with the sides, I watched as the girl with short hair was let go with just a little touch-up, they hadn’t even used the clippers on her. I had let her keep a lot of her hair, and they were mercilessly shaving me all over… I was overcome with such indignation that I couldn’t contain it and I protested:
-Why do they let the others keep their hair and not me? They’re leaving me completely bald!
The man stopped the machine abruptly. He left it on the table, giving it a rather abrupt blow. And crossing his arms, he stood in front of me and shouted at me:
-NOW YOU’RE IN THE NAVY, LITTLE GIRL! I DON’T KNOW WHERE YOU THINK YOU ARE, BUT YOU’RE GOING TO LEARN TODAY, YOU CAN BE SURE OF THAT! STAND FIRM AND DON’T OPEN YOUR MOUTH AGAIN FOR THE REMAINS OF THE AFTERNOON OR THE PUNISHMENT WILL INCREASE, DO YOU UNDERSTAND??
-Yessssss, sir… and I stood up straighter than a candle…
While I was taking some tools from a drawer, I kept telling:
-I’m going to give you a haircut that you won’t forget for the rest of your life…But don’t worry: You’ll keep some of your stupid colored braid…I wonder what that means! Insolent Snob…Bow your head down, DON’T MOVE, AND DON’T YOU EVEN THINK ABOUT SAYING ANOTHER WORD, IT’S AN ORDER!!!.
I stuck my chin into my chest and felt, horrified, how he spread shaving soap on me with a brush, until my neck was completely lathered…Soon the razor arrived.
-If you were hoping to have something to comb your hair with, you can forget about it now… I’m going to give you the closest shave I can, the kind that only old captains and total extreme fans ask for… Relax because we’re going to spend a few very fun hours here… First, we’ll shave the back of your neck and ears well, and I assure you that I’m going to do my best to make sure you don’t have anything left…
Indeed, he did his best. I ran the razor across my neck in every possible way, parting my ears to shave behind… I was already convinced that I would end up like a billiard ball, although I still hoped that he wouldn’t shave me on top as well and that I could at least keep the shadow of the shaved head, which in a couple of days would begin to show, because what was in the back… There was nothing to be done…
While I dried myself with the towel, I prayed that he would at least stand there and consider the possibility of not shaving me completely. My joy was short-lived. They were already spreading the soap with the brush over my forehead, my crown, the sides… everyone was looking at me and some recruits began to murmur… it was absolutely humiliating…
-That’s how I like it… really soaked… and really quiet… Now we’re going to move on to the forehead… Ready to see yourself as a real billiard ball, doll?? And DON’T STOP LOOKING AT YOURSELF IN THE MIRROR, UNDERSTOOD?
I felt the razor on top of my head, shaving from one side to the other, mercilessly, with mastery… He was moving my head from one side to the other to make it easier for him to shave more closely… When he finished, I couldn’t believe it: MY skin was visible everywhere… I looked horrible. While the man was untying my scarf, I couldn’t help but cry and stammer…
-My God, my hair… It’s… horrible… I’m a billiard ball!!
No!! It couldn’t be!! Was he tying my scarf around my neck again?
-DID YOU NOT LEARN ANYTHING??
I don’t know how I could be so stupid and complain again…
Almost resigned, I saw how he took the barber brush and the bowl of foam again, and soaping my head again he said:
-Every time you protest about your image change it will become more extreme… So let’s go for the second shave of the afternoon, but this time, a little different, this time, full… you’re going to be shaved up to the eyebrows… What you think so…? Didn’t you say you’re a billiard ball? Well now you’re going to be… You’ll see how pretty and cool you’ll be bald and without eyebrows all this summer…- And he went down from my forehead with the brush and began to soap them. When he was sure that both my head and my eyebrows were completely covered, he took the razor again and starting from my forehead, he went down little by little until my eyebrows disappeared, very angry, without giving me time to look at myself. He pushed my head back to make it easier for him to shave my forehead and crown for a second time… He ended up going over my neck, again and again. When I straightened my head and saw myself in the mirror, I couldn’t believe it. He took the scissors and lifting my braid said:
-This is going to bring back too many memories of your old image, and besides, it’s too long. Let’s trim it a little…
And he made the cut on the braid almost from its very beginning. He shaved it off a little more until it became a small, stiff, ugly lock of hair a couple of cm long… To top it off, he was tying it up with a bow… So bald, with no eyebrows, and with that ridiculous lock of hair with that bow, my image could not be more humiliating and pathetic… I wish I hadn’t made that absurd request!!! I forced myself to remain silent, still, firm and with my eyes fixed on the mirror, just as I had been ordered. I wasn’t going to move a muscle or say absolutely nothing until they told me I could do it… I was beginning to understand where I was…
-And now, the final touch: You are now, officially, the bald recruit. But what’s more, I want you to be the bald recruit, shiny and slippery, so let’s wax that head well… Mike! Will you help me with a wax?
Another barber came. They applied a creamy, yellowish paste on a large chamois cloth. Standing one at one end and the other at the other, they began to rub my head and my absent eyebrows with quick, long, short, slow strokes… For a minute, two… Three… In the room, the muffled murmur of the other recruits could be heard, who looked at me in horror… I forced myself not to protest…
-I like it that way. Quiet and still, looking at you… Very good… I see that you are beginning to learn the lesson, patience, we are almost finished, but the waxing takes time… And I want your head to reflect all the lights in the barracks, to be seen coming from a kilometer away…
When they finished, my head was shiny and smooth as a light bulb. I was sure that if you put a hand on it, it would slip.
The barber spoke to me through the mirror: I still had my handkerchief tied and my face was stunned…
-VERY GOOD; BALD RECRUIT: I’m sorry to tell you that I’ll be your sergeant for the next 3 months. During that time, these are your instructions:
1.- YOU MUST ALWAYS REMAIN BALD, SHINY AND SLIPPERY.
2.-You must visit the barracks barber shop every 3 days.
4.-You are required to shave every day if necessary.
5.-You are required to wax and polish your bald head every day.
6.- YOU ARE PROHIBITED FROM GROWING YOUR EYEBROWS.
7.-CAPS ARE PROHIBITED FOR YOU.
8.-You must always wear the bow in your braid.
9.-If during any routine check your corporals, any superior, or I discover that you are not bald, slippery and shiny enough, we will add one more month to your punishment. IS THAT CLEAR? -Yes, sir!
-Who are you?
-THE BALD RECRUIT, SIR!
-And what else…??-I asked ironically
-THE BALD, SHINY AND SLIPPERY RECRUIT, SIR!
He untied my scarf.
-STAND AT YOUR SERGEANT’S FIRM, BALD RECRUIT!
I stood to attention.
-I’ll order that mirrors, soap, a razor, wax and cloths be placed in your room. I’ll be watching you…And remember to make an appointment with Mike in a couple of days… You know what you have to do, right Mike?
-Yes, of course, of course!
-YOU MAY LEAVE.
…During my training, I followed the rules without hesitation. Every morning, the first thing I did when I woke up was to check the state of my head to make sure there was not even a tiny hair on it, and if there was, I would soap my head in front of the mirror and begin the painful task of making it smooth. For the waxing, I was helped by some colleagues, who felt sorry for me, although there were some who found this operation amusing… The worst thing I had to do was to soap my entire head, including my missing eyebrows… The full shave I was punished to do during the summer made me look anything but a girl. I looked horrible in front of the mirror every day, I didn’t look like myself.
At least three times a week, my sergeant checked the state of my baldness. He looked at me approvingly as he ran his hand over my head and it was in perfect order, smooth, shiny and slippery. On one occasion, he checked one afternoon, without warning. I hadn’t had time to shave that morning, so my hair had grown minimally, and was just beginning to show. Screaming at me, he ordered me to report to the barracks barbershop so Mike could shave and wax me thoroughly, noting on my report that my punishment was extended for another month…they wouldn’t let me pass even one day.

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