An exhilarating career: Commandant Musser retires after a decade at Tech (and several lifetimes of adventure)

by Richard Lovegrove

Few of us get to live out our childhood dreams. Young, would-be firefighters, baseball players, or rock stars usually move on to other adult pursuits.

Maj. Gen. Stanton R. "Stan" Musser is one of the exceptions. Musser, who retires this year as the longest serving commandant in the history of the Virginia Tech Corps of Cadets, grew up on the Gettysburg Civil War battlefield. He and his buddies spent their days re-enacting clashes at Little Round Top or across the sweeping expanse of Pickett's Charge.

"We'd live out on the battlefield playing soldiers," Musser says. "I guess that's where my (military) interest started." His interest in flying was sparked at age 11 or 12 when he took a ride in a bi-plane.

Still, even though Musser joined the Air Force ROTC in college, he wasn't sure he wanted a military career. But once he was in, he just had to see if he had the stuff to be a pilot. Then he had to see if he had what it took to be a fighter pilot. Then he had to find out if he could make it into the elite Thunderbirds. His venture into the military turned into a 31-year career from which he retired as one of the most decorated general officers in the United States.

But when he retired in 1989, Musser wasn't ready to hang up his uniform. He had spent two tours at the Air Force Academy, and when he saw Virginia Tech's job posting for commandant of the corps of cadets, he knew he had found a second career. "It was a great fit," Musser says. "This has been a wonderful 10 years. We could not have asked for a better place to be."

But now, says Musser, it's time to quit "and go do some of the things my wife and I want to do." Those things will include a lot of time on the road in a new 37-foot-long Renegade recreational vehicle visiting their children and grandchildren.

He leaves behind a strong legacy at the university. "In my opinion, he has been one of the most effective commandants ever to lead the corps," said Lanny Cross, Tech's vice president for student affairs.

In high school, Musser was a track and football star, winning several local and all-state honors. His prowess earned him athletic scholarships to several colleges, but he decided to stay at home and attend Gettysburg College, where he continued in athletics and joined the Air Force ROTC unit.

Musser's determination to succeed didn't stop on the field or with his military training. At the beginning of his sophomore year, he was on campus early for football practice, which meant that he could check out the list of first-year women coming in. When Musser found out that a national baton-twirling champion, Dawn Burg of Red Lion, Pa., was arriving, he was intrigued. When Burg and her parents pulled up to her dorm, Musser stepped up, introduced himself, and told Burg he was assigned to carry her bags. They started dating later that semester and married after he finished flight training and she graduated from Gettysburg. "I guess that story isn't very politically correct these days," Musser says with a grin, "but we've been together ever since."

Although Musser wasn't really sure he wanted to make a career out of the military, he decided in college that he at least had to see if he could be a pilot and then a fighter pilot. He got his wings at Laredo Air Force Base in Texas, and then completed combat crew training. In 1964, following a stint as a fighter-bomber aircraft commander in Germany, Musser decided not to take the airline pilot route and instead stay with the Air Force. It was a pivotal decision at a pivotal time.

Shortly after that decision, Musser's wing commander called him and another officer to his office to tell them that the military needed a forward air controller in Vietnam. Musser and the other man looked at each other, mystified. "We didn't know what he was talking about," Musser says. "Nobody really knew where Vietnam was."

Musser "lost" the ensuing coin flip and was on a flight to Vietnam the next morning. He landed on a Monday, checked out in an 0-1F Bird Dog--really nothing more than a Piper Cub-type airplane--and was flying combat missions on Wednesday. "In today's environment, that could never happen," Musser says. "I had no training. It was really ridiculous."

The absurdities didn't end there. Musser would take off from a small dirt airstrip to spot targets for South Vietnamese ground troops or bombers. When he flew low enough, the Vietnamese soldier who was required to ride in the back could drop grenades out of the window or fire his M-16. "Of course you were a sitting duck," Musser says. "The most you could go was 90 miles per hour."

During one mission, a bullet smashed through the front windscreen and glanced off Musser's head. The wound wasn't bad but he was bleeding enough that he was forced to land on a dirt road. The Vietnamese soldier with him bolted from the plane, never to be seen again. Musser took off again and returned to his base.

By the time he finished his five-month tour, Musser had flown 177 missions and had earned a Silver Star, DFC, Purple Heart, and seven air medals, impressive decorations for a young captain. "I was one of the few who had been in Vietnam and so I got sent on the speaking tour," he says. He made major early, lieutenant colonel early, and was a colonel in 14 years, a rank that usually takes 21 to 22 years to attain. He was promoted to general in 23 years. "So that flip of the coin really made my career," Musser says.

Musser then went on to realize another dream. When he graduated from flight school he had seen the world-famous Thunderbird demonstration squadron and decided, "My God, I'm going to do that." Not an easy task. As of 1997, only 230 officers had worn the Thunderbird patch. Nonetheless, he made it. Musser was the slot pilot in a four-plane diamond formation. The planes fly within three feet of each other in maneuvers that make the pilot's body feel five to six times heavier than it is. The pilots fly by checking their position in relation to the other jets rather than by looking ahead. You come to trust your leader so much that if he "ever went into the ground, you had better be there with him," Musser says.

Each 35-minute show left the pilots drenched in sweat. "You're tense the whole time," Musser says. "It's very, very exhilarating." Musser did this 300 times all around the world. One time, he and his fellow pilots finished a show in Paris and then flew non-stop to Colorado Springs. It took 14 hours and 10 minutes, at the time a world record for a non-stop single-seat fighter flight.

Musser returned to Vietnam in 1970, this time flying 86 more missions, mostly bombing runs out of Thailand into Laos and North Vietnam. During the next 19 years, Musser held a variety of high-level positions in the Pentagon and in logistics at numerous bases. In one of those jobs, he was the chief of the Office of Military Cooperation in Cairo, Egypt, where he served as the senior military advisor to the U.S. ambassador. "It turned out it was one of the greatest jobs I had in the military," he says. Dawn worked for the embassy giving tours to the Pyramids and other tourist sites. "We rode camels down through the desert and walked up to where Moses found the tablets on Mount Sinai," Musser says. "This is the stuff you read about in the Bible, and here you are experiencing it."

The Musser family stands in front of the F-100 Super Sabre Musser used while part of the elite Thunderbirds.

In 1989, Musser had a choice of returning to the Air Force for one more four-year stint or retiring. When he saw an ad in the Air Force Times for a commandant at Virginia Tech, he made his decision. "I thought, what a great thing to do for a second career," Musser says. He interviewed in May 1989, heard nothing for two months, and was ready to move to Texas to retire when Tom Goodale, then vice president for student affairs, called at 6 a.m. to see if Musser wanted the job. He arrived in Blacksburg two weeks later and hasn't regretted the decision. "We decided we wanted something that would be good for the family and good for the two of us," he says.

Overall, the corps was in good shape. "[Lt.] Gen. [Howard M.] Lane had done a lot of great things," such as building up scholarships, Musser says. Lane had also started changing the harsh methods the corps used for training. Nonetheless, during Lane's last year, 10 cadets were charged with abduction after they broke into another cadet's room, shaved his head, and left him at the Duck Pond.

As corps membership dropped the next few years, Musser demanded that cadets change their training system from one that focused on tearing down cadets to one that emphasizes individual responsibility and building on the strengths of each cadet. Breaking the mindset was hard because as each class experienced varying degrees of harshness, the members of that class were determined they would treat the next class the same way. "That first year was tough because I was making changes that the kids just weren't buying into," Musser says. "You really need to treat people with respect and decency and to get them to respect you as an individual. It's easy to scream and holler, but what do you actually get out of it? It's been an ongoing battle."

Musser also fought a battle to get cadets to "think academically instead of just militarily." He fully integrated women into the corps residence halls, was instrumental in the push to increase corps numbers and scholarships, presided over the establishment of a leadership minor for corps members (Musser gives much of the credit for this to Col. Ed Schwabe), and helped in a successful effort to persuade the General Assembly to provide money to the corps for its military activities.

Musser's well-earned retirement will allow him and Dawn to travel across the country to visit their children and grandchildren.

Musser stood before the entire corps of cadets in February and stunned them with the announcement that he would retire at the end of the school year. The cadets touched him by giving him a standing ovation. "That wasn't the reaction I expected at all. It was a very emotional experience," Musser says. "The corps has been great for me because it allowed me to stay in uniform and work with fine young men and women who will lead our nation in the next millennium. I see nothing but great things for the corps."

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