Get Yer F*ckin Hair Cut

At the end of my Army apprenticeship we had to apply for postings to adult units. There wasn’t any real ‘fancy’ postings for new recruits it was simply UK or Germany. I wanted to get as close to home as possible so I opted for Chilwell, Waterbeach or Ripon. It wasn’t guaranteed that you would get anything you opted for and ultimately I didn’t mind as long as I didn’t end up in Germany.

I ended up in Waterbeach near Cambridge which I was quite pleased with. I had spent 6 weeks prior to going to Waterbeach at home doing virtually nothing, mixing with my civilian friends and growing my hair as long as I could get it, I had even dyed it jet black.

When I turned up at the barracks I was made to report to my troop sergeant. I can’t remember his name but he was a wide fellow with a square chin. After we got the pleasantries over with, which took about ½ a second, he lifted my fringe and cut it off at the scalp and said, “Right, now get down town and get yer f*ckin hair cut”.

I don’t remember being too mortified as it got me away from the camp and it let me explore Cambridge a little, it was very exciting, plus, I had a hat to wear.

I mention this because I was talking about Cambridge to a colleague and we were mentioning specific areas. To refresh myself I jumped on Google Street maps and got the same feeling I got when I went into Cambridge for the first time, the hair cutting incident being that first time. Technology is a marvellous thing isn’t it?

I think this was the hairdressers was 30 years ago.






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