salute. It seems that this relationship between the gray front mice and the staff-room studs is the same in all wars and peoples. But that this has appeared here with all its consequences fills me with gloomy thoughts.
Something new and significant has arisen at the front. But only a part of our young people has experienced this. At the rear quite different things have been "experienced," a different style of life and behavior. Two different worlds, whose inhabitants will soon be incapable of understanding each other.
The front found ways to express its silent protest against these develop-ments. The soldiers from the front emphasized the difference with torn, dirty uniforms, unruly hairstyles, and wild beards. If the government refused to grant them a special front badge, well, they would have to do it themselves. Just as the sock hat was a symbol of the people’s army in the early days, the beard became a symbol of the front, which despised the spit and polish of the rear.
An undeclared competition between the lifestyle of the front and that of the rear broke out. Some officers at the front took a liking to the rear style, and felt uncomfortable with the indiscipline of the frontline sol-diers. They didn’t notice that the "rebels" tended to be exactly those sol-diers who distinguished themselves in combat. And thus began the attempt to introduce the so-called discipline of the rear into the fighting units. Its first victim was - the beard.
Battalion HQ
The story of a beard
Time to write an obituary. An obituary for my beard. Because it is with us no longer.
It was no simple beard. It had a history.
I always wanted to grow a beard. Perhaps it began with that sweet girl’s whisper in my ear; a beard would suit me, with my nar-row face. From that day on, the thought would not leave me. It gave me no rest.
The first opportunity presented itself during the days of the Nachshon operation. For three weeks we were in Deir Muheisin and