in the positions on the road to Jerusalem. My beard grew all by itself. But at that time I didn’t dare. I played with the idea, but... whenever I went "home" for a short time to Hulda, I would pick up my razor and the beard was gone.
Days passed. I saw a lot of beards. Goatees which only just covered the chin, beards which formed a narrow frame around the face, and the impressively full beards of the Palmach people from the Negev, the so-called Negev Animals. And also simple beards without any tradition or meaning. A decision was slowly taking shape to grow myself a fine, proper beard at the next opportunity. And the opportunity came.
It was before the first ceasefire. We were positioned outside Beit Daras, a village without compare in the whole of the southern region, as far as fleas go. We had no water, didn’t wash, and of course we didn’t shave. We were five whole days there before the ceasefire came into force. On the next day, so we were told, we would go on leave to Tel Aviv.
I stood in front of the mirror for a long time, pondering. I felt sorry to lose my beard. On the other hand I didn’t want to turn up in Tel Aviv with a half-finished product. I had no choice - and so I shaved.
At some point the first ceasefire came to an end, and the war of eleven days began. All the battles of the past paled into insignificance next to the battles ofNegba, Ibdis, Beit Daras, Hill 105, and Beit Affa. Now we were commandos racing here and there in our jeeps. The days flew past, with three or four actions a day. And after each action you look at yourself and ask: what, still alive? Nobody thought of shaving, nobody even thought of washing.
When the next ceasefire began, we awoke as if from a bad dream. And I became aware that my face was adorned with a proper and handsome beard. I contemplated it with pleasure. That girl was right: I needed a beard.
By now we had acquired the name "Samson’s Foxes." People admired us, the way we had admired the Palmach people when we were raw recruits. This beard, I told myself, is just right. That’s what a commando needs.
My beard came with me the next time I went to Tel Aviv. My par-ents got a shock. Acquaintances worried that there had been a death