The Creed of the Specialist

No one gets away with more than I. I am a non Non-Commissioned Officer, a beast of burden. As a junior enlisted soldier I realize that I am a member of an under appreciated, much chastised group of soldiers which is known as the ribcage, or perhaps pancreas, of the Army.

I am proud of myself and my fellow Specialists and will continue to bitch, whine and sham until the absolute last second regardless of the mission at hand. I will use my grade and position to avoid responsibility, accountability and any sense of presence of mind.

Ignorance is my watchword. My two best excuses will always be on the tip of my tongue "I didn't know," and "It wasn't me." I will strive to remain invisible and unavailable for details. Never ever volunteer for anything is my rallying cry.

I am aware of my role as a SPC and if you need me for anything, I'll be on appointment. I know the other soldiers, and I will always refer to them by their first name or in some cases derogatory nickname. On weekends, or days off I will consistently drink myself into oblivion, and I will never answer my phone. I understand that for a person in my hierarchal position, rewards are going to be few and far between, and punishment will always be swift and severe.

Officers of my unit will have maximum time to accomplish their duties, because I will be accomplishing them for them. I will kiss up to their face and badmouth them behind their back, just like everyone else. I will be loyal to those with home I serve, provided there's something in it for me. I am the last bastion of common sense that stands between me and the Army philosophy of "Work Harder, Not Smarter." My voice is a tool and my complaints are a weapon that I wield with unmatched skill and finesse. I will not forget, nor will I allow my comrades to forget, Specialist is the greatest rank in the Army and rank has its privileges.