Does everyone need something "shiny" to make themselves stick out from other branches/services?

A Paratrooper=s Confession
by
Greg Bruorton
Long before I joined the United States Army, I knew the paratrooper symbolized the "soldier's soldier" and the elite of the Army. I had long respected and admired the man who wore the spit-shined jump boots and sported the silver wings of the paratrooper, but that had been the extent of it. My joining the Army in 1960 seemed to be the right thing to do because there was more to do in life than making a living just in one place.
Upon completing four years of service in 1964 I was assigned to Fort Bragg, North Carolina; the "Home of the Airborne." Because of my job specialty, I was assigned to a Signal outfit and during the subsequent four years I was continuously exposed to the Airborne way of life but did not avail myself of the opportunity to join this group. I had frequently imagined how the descent of a jump and the pride of being part of the elite would feel. I can truthfully say that being frightened was not the reason for my delaying Airborne school attendance. I had done many things in my boyhood and teen years that I consider just as dangerous and exhilarating as jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.
After two tours in the Dominican Republic (with Fort Bragg being home base) and a tour in Germany and Vietnam, I again returned and was assigned to an Airborne unit slot. Shortly after my return, however, my mother passed away and I took emergency leave to attend her funeral.
Later, while back at my job, I sensed a change of heart, but was unable to ascertain why. In June 1973 I attended Basic Airborne School at Fort Bragg, hoping to earn my wings.
The revelation came to me on the day that my jump wings were pinned to my chest, eleven months after my mother's passing. I then knew the real reason why I had refrained from becoming a paratrooper until now; it had been my mother!
First, I want to clarify--my mother had never indicated a concerned, deep fear for me on whatever tasks I did while in the Army, and second, she had never conveyed anything to me other than a mother's natural, "please be careful" attitude. In short, I was never hassled by her in connection with my duties. I can only narrow it down to this: I did not want to cause any additional or excessive worry where she would always be uncertain as to my well-being.
Had I not brought enough anxiety to her during my younger years? Moreover, letters to each other were the primary means of our communication, for my visits home averaged once every two to three years. I felt that she would constantly be on an edge, worrying about whether I had made a safe jump or not.
All along, I had thought the subtle pressures from my commander and peers were the reason why I finally decided to attend jump school. Ironically, and sad to say, I was actually waiting for the time when Mom would not have to worry about me again.

You meant Esprit de Corps, didn't you? That originated from the French having pride in one's unit and abilities.