Sam and Hazel’s Military Haircuts

When Sam and Hazel first stepped foot into the bustling military base, they were two ordinary Israeli citizens, no different than thousands of others who had gone through the same initiation into the Israeli military. But as soon as they passed through the gates, everything changed. One of the first things Sam and Hazel experienced, after the mountains of paperwork and medical screenings, was the transformative power of the military haircut.

In the days leading up to their recruitment, Sam had heard stories from friends about how the haircuts were quick, efficient, and above all, ruthless. He had envisioned something dramatic, but nothing prepared him for the clinical precision of what was to come. For Hazel, though the stories had been equally vivid, the reality of her experience would be different — though not less intense.

The First Step: Uniformity, Discipline, and Tradition

The process was designed to strip away the individuality that civilian life had allowed and replace it with the uniformity required for military service. In the military, haircuts weren’t just about aesthetics or personal choice. They were a matter of practicality, discipline, and tradition. The Israeli military insisted on military haircuts to keep soldiers clean and professional, but also for the clear reason that they made wearing helmets, gas masks, and combat gear far easier.

For men, there were three primary types of haircuts: the buzzcut, the high and tight, and the flat top. These styles were seen as symbols of readiness, discipline, and focus. Women, like Hazel, were also required to conform to similar standards, though their cuts varied in terms of practicality. The military demanded that female recruits cut their hair short enough to ensure it wouldn’t interfere with their uniform or physical activities, and they also had the same requirement for ease of helmet and headgear fitting. Some women, like Hazel, even received cuts so short they almost resembled the men’s standard.

In the sterile, echoing barbershop at the base, Sam’s heart began to race. He watched as recruits ahead of him sat in chairs, their heads shaved in seconds. The sight was more disorienting than he’d imagined. The barbers weren’t interested in making anyone look good — they were there to ensure uniformity and precision. Each haircut was a ritual in creating a soldier from a civilian.

Sam’s Turn

Sam sat in a chair, slightly apprehensive but still trying to maintain his composure. His eyes met the barber’s for only a brief moment, before the man turned his attention to the heavy-duty clippers in his hand. The barber was a seasoned pro, wearing a stern look that communicated nothing but efficiency. Sam’s hair, thick and untamed, had once been a source of pride, but in this moment, it was just another obstacle to be removed.

The barber used a fixed guard of 2 mm for the sides and back of Sam’s head. Without hesitation, he placed the clippers at Sam’s nape and started running it upwards. The first stroke felt like a shock — the loud hum of the clippers buzzing through his hair as it fell away in massive chunks. The clippers moved from the back of his head to the sides, carving a path that left his scalp exposed and vulnerable. He felt a slight chill as the clippers buzzed closer to his ears, the coolness of the metal against his skin surprising him each time. Sam’s mind wandered as he tried to block out the feeling of being shaved down to nothing. The back and sides were soon reduced to stubble, and it wasn’t long before the barber switched to a larger guard for the top of Sam’s head. The guard was set to 12 mm, and the barber worked methodically, cutting the top down to a smooth, even length. In just a few seconds, most of Sam’s hair had vanished. The whole process took mere minutes — Sam barely had time to process what was happening before it was done.

“Done,” the barber announced, stepping back to inspect his work. Sam’s head felt lighter, exposed, and raw. But there was no time for hesitation. The next recruit was already taking his place in the chair, and the barber moved on, eager to repeat the process.

Hazel’s Turn

Hazel had come thinking they won’t cut it too short. Her long, dark hair had been tied tightly into a ponytail as she entered the barbershop, bracing herself for the change. She had seen women before her endure similar haircuts, their long hair clippings lying around on the floor. Although the hair was regularly swept away into bins, there were messy heaps of long hair all around the chairs and the corners because the speed at which hair was cut in this barbershop meant that long hair would always been seen on the floors. This situation meant that a lot of women previously lost a lot of hair. By this sight Hazel knew that this haircut was not about style or even comfort — it was about function, about becoming a soldier, and about making sure her hair would never get in the way.

Hazel sat in the chair, and a female barber stepped forward. Unlike the male barbers who were methodical, even robotic, in their movements, the female barber was brisk but gentle. She took one look at Hazel’s long ponytail and knew exactly what she had to do. Without saying a word, she gripped the ponytail firmly with one hand and raised her scissors.

The scissors were large, their blades long and sharp. She had to slice the ponytail near her scalp. In one swift motion, she inserted one of the blades between Hazel’s scalp and the rubber band, and the other blade above the band. A quick squeeze on the scissor handles, and the upper half of the ponytail was severed. Hazel felt a sudden weight shift as her long hair separated from the ponytail dropped forward. The barber didn’t pause. With a two more cuts, the remaining half of the ponytail was removed entirely, leaving Hazel looking like she had been given a quick pixiecut. But that was just the start.

With the ponytail gone, the barber grabbed the clippers. She set them to a guard of 4 mm for the sides and back and a guard of 40 mm for the top. The buzzing sound filled the room as she worked her way around Hazel’s head, reducing the remainder of her hair to a uniform length. Hazel’s scalp felt cool and exposed as the clippers moved over her, removing the last remnants of her civilian identity. Within minutes, her hair was reduced to a neat, military-approved crop that left her with nothing more than a soft stubble on top and sides.

The barber stepped back, inspecting her work. Hazel could already feel the difference — her head, once heavy with long hair, now felt light and almost aerodynamic. She couldn’t help but run her hand over the stubbled surface, feeling the smoothness that would soon become her new normal. The cut wasn’t pretty, but it was precise, functional, and undeniably military.

Inspection and Maintenance

Once the haircuts were done, Sam and Hazel were inspected to ensure that no stray hairs remained, and that every inch of their hair met the strict standards required by the IDF. The barbers took pride in their work, making sure each recruit’s hair was shaped and uniform. Sam’s buzzcut was as short as it could be, with no room for error. Hazel’s crop, too, was checked for precision.

This haircut wasn’t a one-time event. Every 20 days, recruits were required to return for a trim, maintaining the shape and size of their cuts. Sam and Hazel would come to know this routine well, each visit a reminder of the uniformity and discipline required by their new lives as soldiers.

One day, they would also take on the role of the barber. As part of the rotational duties in their training, they would be expected to maintain the haircuts of their fellow recruits. It was a strange thought, but one that made perfect sense in the military: to understand the discipline of grooming, they would have to participate in it.

For now, though, Sam and Hazel stood side by side, their heads freshly shorn, their civilian selves all but gone. They were soldiers now, their transformations complete. The only thing left was to face the challenges ahead — and with their haircuts, they were more than ready.