cav scouts

anonymous asked:

Are there any MOSs that are mocked for being 'unimportant'?

Most assuredly! The most well-known example of a job that gets thoroughly mocked is 42A, Human Resource Specialist. When someone wants to insult someone for incompetence, “Looks like you should’ve been a 42A.” If someone is very bookish and having trouble with the physical part of their job, “You didn’t enlist as 42A, you know.” 

Of course, these taunts are all rather silly when you realize 42As are often the ones responsible for us getting pay, BAH, BAS, leave, and so on. 

It’s probably easier for me to list the occupations/types of units who AREN’T mocked for being unimportant. 
-Med Corps
-Special Forces
-Combat Engineers
-Signals Intelligence
-Cav scouts

Aaaaand that’s about it. If any given soldier says they’re any one of these things, most people will probably go “Okay, you’re legit.” Not all of these things are mutually exclusive of course; some of them add on additional badassery. 91B is Wheeled Vehicle Mechanic, and they can be attached to almost any unit, but a 91B stationed with infantry is probably thought of with more esteem than a 91B stationed with an Air Defense unit.

Pretty much everyone else is fair game for being made fun of. Air Defense, (my branch) cook, any and all office jobs including S-1 through S-6, and gosh pretty much anyone and everyone who isn’t doing physical bullshit 24-7. 

Of course every MOS in the army is important, sure, we say that, but sometimes it really does get to you and you don’t feel that important. Feeling like my job was worthless was a big reason I didn’t stay in as long as I intended. 


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Halfway down the trail to Hell,
In a shady meadow green
Are the Souls of all dead troopers camped,
Near a good old-time canteen.
And this eternal resting place
Is known as Fiddlers’ Green.
Marching past, straight through to Hell
The Infantry are seen.
Accompanied by the Engineers,
Artillery and Marines,
For none but the shades of Cavalrymen
Dismount at Fiddlers’ Green.
Though some go curving down the trail
To seek a warmer scene.
No trooper ever gets to Hell
Ere he’s emptied his canteen.
And so rides back to drink again
With friends at Fiddlers’ Green.
And so when man and horse go down
Beneath a saber keen,
Or in a roaring charge of fierce melee
You stop a bullet clean,
And the hostiles come to get your scalp,
Just empty your canteen,
And put your pistol to your head
And go to Fiddlers’ Green.