I’M Tim Maude, and I’M a Soldier: A Military Biography of Lieutenant General Timothy J. Maude

By Stephen E. Bower

Lt. Gen. Tim Maude shares the distinction of being the highest ranking American soldier to lose his life in military action.

But unlike Lesley J. McNair and Simon B. Buckner Jr., both lieutenant generals who died during World War II, the battle he died in was not one he expected.

On Sept. 11, 2001, terrorists commandeered an American Airlines flight out of Dulles International Airport and crashed it into the southwest wall of the Pentagon, killing Maude and more than a hundred other military and civilian workers. Scores of other people were injured when the airliner ripped through the building at 530 miles per hour.

At the time of his death, Maude served as the deputy chief of staff for personnel, the Armys chief executor of personnel policy and manager of the various programs affecting the strength and moral well-being of Americas land forces.

As one of only five members of the Armys Adjutant Generals Corps to rise to the rank of lieutenant general, his story is one of triumph and celebration, and an abiding commitment to family, country, and service.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Feb 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781491753231

Stephen E. Bower

Stephen E. Bower has been a staff historian for the U.S. Army since 1982. He earned numerous degrees at Indiana University, including a Ph.D. in the History of Education. He is also the author of The American Army in the Heartland: A History of Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana, 1903-1995.

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Copyright © 2015 Stephen E. Bower.

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ISBN: 978-1-4917-5322-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4917-5324-8 (hc)

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Library of Congress Control Number: 2014920267

iUniverse rev. date: 2/10/2015

CONTENTS

Foreword

Preface

Acknowledgments

1 The Death Of A Soldier

The Terrorist Attack On The Pentagon

The Deputy Chief Of Staff For Personnel

A Soldier Who Supported Soldiers

The Personnel Community And The Future Of The Army

2 He Took Care Of Soldiers

The Celebration Of Life

Following The Old Guard

The Memorial Service At Fort Benjamin Harrison

3 East 38Th Street

The Linnaman Farm

The Maudes Of East Tabor Street

The Picnic House

The Fort Harrison Connection

Attending Catholic School

Teresa Ann Campbell

Tim And Teri

4 The Vietnam Era

Vietnam: The 7Th Administration Company

Fort Benjamin Harrison: 1968–1970

Adviser To The California National Guard: 1970–1973

5 That Dead-End Postal Job

Mark Twain Village

Worldwide Marriage Encounter Movement

The Heidelberg Gang

Us Army Postal Group

Heidelberg Regional Personnel Center

An Officer’s Wife And Working Mother

Assistant To The Executive Officer

Germany In Retrospect

6 Being All You Can Be

The Command General Staff College: Class Of 1979

The Us Army Administration Center And Fort Benjamin Harrison

Chief, Professional Development

Executive Officer To The Deputy Commandant

Director, Advanced Individual Training

The New Manning System Task Force

Assistant Executive Officer Again

7 Coming Into One’s Own

Not Like Any Other Move

Chief Of Staff, 8Th Personnel Command

Adjutant General, 2nd Infantry Division

Team Spirit

Army Of Excellence Personnel Service Support

Assistant Chief Of Staff G1

Tim’s Father, Virgil

Leaving Korea

1St Battalion, Troop Brigade, Us Army Soldier Support Center

The Children: Coming Of Age

8 An End And A Beginning

The Us Army War College: 1989–1990

Going Home Again

The Us Army Enlisted Records And Evaluation Center

Operations Desert Shield And Storm

Tragedy In Harrison Village

Unit Citation Award

Commanding Civilians

Colonel Maude On Soldiering

What Do We Do Next?

Selection For Brigadier General

9 Becoming A General Officer

Promotion To Brigadier General

Us European Command

Operation Provide Promise

King Of Kelley Barracks

Senior Tactical Commander

Tim’s Junior Advisers

Good-Bye To Stuttgart

Back To The Nation’s Capital

Enlisted Personnel Management Directorate

Working For The Army’s Community And Family Support Center

Call To Heidelberg

10 Major General Maude

The Heidelberg Military Community

Operation Joint Endeavor

Personnel Support For Operation Joint Endeavor

Promotion To Major General

Back To The B Ring

Bubba And Fishburne Military School

Kathi’s Wedding

11 Deputy Chief Of Staff For Personnel

Appointment To Lieutenant General

Quarters 5

General Shinseki’s Manning Initiative

Strengthening The Army

Grand Strategy And The Us Army Recruiting Command

An Army Of One

The 83Rd Pga Championship

12 September 11, 2001

Surviving The Terrorist Attack

Getting Home From Dupont Circle

Getting Home From San Diego

Project Phoenix

Afterword

Notes

Glossary

Bibliography

About The Author

To those who defend and serve

AGShield3.tif

FOREWORD

Lieutenant General Tim Maude possessed an abundance of intelligence, skill, and ability that set him apart from even the most talented of his peers. He was my mentor and a fellow soldier in the Army’s Adjutant General’s Corps, and he may have been the most effective, dynamic, and visionary leader that our branch has ever produced. He understood, as the Army’s Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel (DCSPER), that he and his team were responsible for the human dimension of soldiering—the intangible measure of the Army’s health and well-being. He understood that the power and operational effectiveness of the US Army rested upon the personnel community’s ability to sustain soldiers and commanders before, during, and after any fight into which they were called. He truly believed if you took care of soldiers and the people who were privileged to lead them, you took care of the Army.

He liked to introduce himself to audiences by saying, My name is Tim Maude, and I’m a soldier. I heard him say those words many times. For him, soldiering was a noble affair of the heart that rested upon selflessness and an enduring trust in others. I have not known anyone more committed to the profession of arms than Tim Maude. Today, we talk about the need for leaders who are agile and adaptable, who have the keen ability to accurately assess the situation and, if need be, adapt to its demands. Good leaders have always possessed these attributes, and Tim Maude was one of those. He practiced a lifelong commitment to learning about the military profession, and he knew that often meant getting outside the comfort zone of personnel and human-resource management and into the broader world where the rest of the Army lived.

I had the honor and opportunity to work for and learn from Tim Maude. Each day filled with briefings, meetings, papers, messages, and phone calls represented an opportunity to become more knowledgeable—an opportunity to get closer to the commander’s vision, to understand intent and the basis from which it was formulated. His toughness as a leader lay in his detailed knowledge of the Army’s personnel system, its complexity, and the way it worked. As a tough leader, he would ask tough questions about things he expected you to know and things he wanted to know. He was demanding in that respect. He expected you to think through the consequences or implications of decisions you were asking him to make. He was quick to call you out, if you had not done your homework. It became a learning opportunity for him. He would ask the questions and encourage discussion that brought forth answers. He knew—and he would always let you know—that eighteen-year-old soldiers were often the first to feel the impact of thinly analyzed policy recommendations approved by unmindful leaders. He understood that in order to find a solution, you first had to understand the problem. If you did not take the time to clearly define the problem, your chances of finding a workable solution were, of course, not good.

He was as humble as he was competent. He was always ready and able to demonstrate the latter but never reluctant to put others first or to shine attention on fellow soldiers. He would be the first to tell you he learned as much from other soldiers as he did from his many professional courses of study. He was one with General Dwight David Eisenhower, who once said that leadership was the art of getting someone else to do something that you want done because he wants to do it, not because your position of power can compel him to do it. As all of us in the Army know, there are many people in positions of authority, but few are able to exercise the Eisenhower and Maude brand of leadership. You did things for Lieutenant General Maude because you wanted to do them. He never had to hit you over the head to get something done. You did it because he had a way of making you want to do it. He had a way of making you want to be a part of the team that took great pride in mission accomplishment.

On September 11, 2001, twenty-nine members of the Maude team lost their lives, and several others in the Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel suffered serious injury in the terrorist attack on the Pentagon. Had I not been called away from the Pentagon and Washington, DC, to other duties, chances are, I would have been among the fatalities. All of us present for duty that day were doing what General Maude had asked us to do, and we were doing it because we wanted to do it. Working tirelessly for days on end, we were able, in a matter of a few short weeks, to return the surviving and displaced members of the Maude team to office space in the Pentagon. That we were able to do so speaks to the resiliency, spirit, and commitment of surviving team members and remains a lasting testimony to Lieutenant General Maude’s leadership.

Richard P. Mustion

Major General, USA

Commander, US Army Human Resources Command

Fort Knox, Kentucky

August 4, 2014

PREFACE

Lieutenant General Timothy J. Maude was a soldier in the United States Army. He was a member of the Army’s Adjutant General’s Corps, a military occupational specialty whose history is as long and old as that of the US Army itself. Dating from the June 17, 1775, appointment of Brigadier General Horatio Gates as the Adjutant General of the Continental Army, the Adjutant General’s Corps—or, more accurately, the support functions it provides—has been an integral part of the operational Army since our nation’s founding. Identified variously as administrators, personnel specialists, or human-resource managers, soldiers in the Adjutant General’s Corps keep troop commanders abreast of the strength, operational readiness, status of personnel, and morale of units they command. Adjutants deliver the mail, provide a myriad of services to the individual soldier, and manage casualty information flowing from the theater of operations to the soldier’s next of kin, famously portrayed in the popular World War II movie Saving Private Ryan. Not insignificantly, the Adjutant General’s Corps manages the Army band program, perhaps the centerpiece of the Army’s morale-building effort and a repository of military custom and ceremony.¹

Adjutants also manage, as of late, what are called Command Interest Programs, which, perhaps more than anything else, distinguish the mission of modern adjutants from their predecessors. They take in a broad expanse of activity, much of which causes the modern-day adjutants to serve in ways for which their training and professional development often does not prepare them.² This is to say that adjutants get assigned things that no one else on the commander’s staff wants or is prepared to do. As one former adjutant serving on Lieutenant General David Petraeus’s staff during Operation Iraqi Freedom put it, I spent more time as … the Multi-National Force C1 doing those things [Command Interest Programs] than doing the traditional core AG [Adjutant General] functions. The commander, says Brigadier General Rick Mustion, should have to turn to only one person to assist him in managing issues related to the human dimension of the force.³

Command Interest Programs are about the human dimension of force development. As the post-Vietnam all-volunteer army has grown, so too has the number of human-dimension programs and activities that promote inclusiveness and the general well-being and morale of soldiers and their families. Defined by its composition, today’s US Army is a diverse organization—including men as well as women, and soldiers from a variety of racial, ethnic, and religious backgrounds—and is perhaps as focused on the amelioration of related issues as any organization can be without losing sight of its primary mission. As I write, the Chief of Staff of the Army is waging an assertive campaign to lessen the alarming number of sexual-harassment incidents affecting both the morale and operational readiness of the force. Adjutants from the Department of the Army, down through every battalion and company in the US Army, are fronting for their respective commanders the Chief of Staff’s campaign to change the climate of tolerance toward sexual assault and sexual harassment.⁴

Formal adoption of these programs as an Adjutant General’s Corps responsibility expanded the scope and mission of adjutants army-wide, but it also mirrored the broader mission of the Army G1, the highest-ranking human-resource manager in the Army. At the time of his death, Tim Maude, as the Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel, held this position—also the highest-ranking position to which an officer in the Adjutant General’s Corps could aspire.

Tim Maude’s biography is military history but concerns subject matter often overlooked by historians in their various treatments of the American military past. Although a successful military leader, he did not lead troops in battle, nor did his considerable accomplishments derive from direct participation in any of the major military campaigns that have marked recent US Army history. His soldier credentials were hard won in the relatively safe rear echelons of the Army, where soldiers perform many of the unheralded and unglamorous tasks necessary to support and sustain commanders and troops at war.

Lieutenant General Maude’s military career began in 1966 and ended tragically in 2001. His service covered the last twenty-three years of the Cold War and the first twelve of what military strategists and doctrinal writers are now calling an age of persistent conflict wherein the employment of US military force has become an increasingly prominent feature of US foreign policy. Since the end of the Cold War in 1989, the US Army has become an indispensable component of efforts to shape the international security environment in a way that is favorable to US interests around the globe.⁵ His story is no less the story of the US Army during this time period—the period when, from a personnel perspective, the conscripted force gave way to the all-volunteer army; when Total Force policy served to abolish the historical distinction between the regular and reserve components (Army Reserve and National Guard) of the Army; when the recruitment and service of women became a necessary feature of national military strategy; and when the health and well-being of military families became as important to the moral fabric of the US Army as the well-being of individual soldiers.

His story is also the story of an Army family—Tim; his wife, Teri; and their two daughters, Kathi and Karen. As officers’ wives go, Teri Maude was atypical and surely a transitional figure in the Army’s changing relationship with women and its redefinition of the military spouse. Always uncomfortable with military spousal culture, which viewed women as footnotes to their husbands’ military careers, she managed to complete undergraduate and advanced college degrees and forge a career of her own while her husband, Tim, successfully advanced through the ranks. In the end, however, Teri was as knowledgeable of her husband’s work and as supportive of his military career as an Army spouse possibly could be. Like her husband, she loved the Army and devoted much of her time as an officer’s wife to understanding her husband’s place within it.

In the fall of 1987, Lieutenant Colonel Tim Maude walked into my office and introduced himself to me as commanderof the 1st Battalion, Troop Brigade, the supporting unit for training and garrison operations at the US Army Soldier Support Center, Fort Benjamin Harrison, Indiana. All military personnel assigned to Fort Benjamin Harrison either as students or as what the military calls permanent party were assigned to one of two battalions that made up Troop Brigade. Tim Maude commanded Troop Brigade’s student battalion. All students attending any one of the training or professional-development courses at Fort Benjamin Harrison were assigned to 1st Battalion. The US Army Soldier Support Institute, an agency composed of multiple Army schools, including two branch specialty schools—the US Army Adjutant General School and the US Army Finance School—conducted the military training and professional development at the Soldier Support Center.

He had just returned to the United States from a three-year tour of duty in South Korea and was just beginning his command time with Troop Brigade. I had not yet had the opportunity to meet him. Since ranking officers seldom came to see me, I was more than a little surprised to see him in the history office. I’m building a professional-development program for my battalion staff, he announced, and I would like you to help us out.

I was five years into my job as Command Historian for the Soldier Support Center and had been spending most of my time up to that point researching and writing a history of Fort Benjamin Harrison and developing and instructing the Staff Ride for the Adjutant General and Finance Officer Advanced Courses (OAC), the course where, typically, Army captains received advanced training in their branch specialty. The Staff Ride, a student study of a historical battle using as point of focus the actual terrain over which the battle was fought, was just gaining traction within the Army’s Training and Doctrine Command as a required part of the OAC curriculum. The idea was to make some military doctrinal sense out of what went right and wrong for commanders and troops engaged in battle. Was the military objective clearly communicated? Was the commander’s intent misunderstood? Were troops sufficiently trained and equipped for mission accomplishment? How much did terrain figure into victory or defeat? Did the commander simply not understand the enemy he was pitted against?

With staff riding on my mind, I offered to lead the 1st Battalion staff on a Staff Ride to the Tippecanoe battlefield located near Lafayette, Indiana, where the Tippecanoe and Wabash Rivers flow into one to form the greater Wabash. Fought on November 7, 1811, the Battle of Tippecanoe pitted Major General William Henry and one thousand US soldiers against Tenskwatawa, brother to the Shawnee chieftain Tecumseh, and seven hundred Indian warriors. Harrison’s troops handily defeated the attacking Indians while their leader sat on a rock and prayed.

As battalion commander and later as commander of the US Army Enlisted Records and Evaluation Center, he also volunteered to accompany groups of Adjutant General Officer OAC students on their staff ride to the Civil War battlefield at Perryville, Kentucky, the site of the climactic battle of the 1862 Kentucky Campaign. He wanted to mentor young captains and saw the staff ride as an opportunity to do that. He wanted to not only facilitate discussion but also instruct. On his first try as facilitator, he and I got into a discussion about factors motivating soldiers to fight—factors contributing to the willing sacrifice of lives and fortunes to the cause of war. The second time he did Perryville, he was leading students in a discussion of why Civil War soldiers fought, the substance of which is as relevant to twenty-first-century soldiers as it was to those in the nineteenth century.

What I remember most about my initial introduction to Tim Maude was his intense interest in the military profession and how I could help him and his fellow soldiers become better at who they were and what they did. He wanted to be a soldier in the fullest sense of the word. He also wanted that for the soldiers who looked to him for leadership. As the Army, in its current 2014 form, searches for what it means to be a military professional, I cannot help but think of Tim Maude and the significant contribution he could have made to that effort.⁶

The last time I saw Lieutenant General Maude was at the Fort Jackson, South Carolina, golf club restaurant a couple of months before he perished in the September 11, 2001, terrorist attack on the Pentagon. By then, the Soldier Support Institute, including the US Army Adjutant General School, had moved from Fort Benjamin Harrison to Fort Jackson under the congressionally mandated 1991 Base Realignment and Closure action, the first round of major reductions in military infrastructure following the end of the Cold War. He had broken away from meetings in the Adjutant General School to have lunch with Teri, who had accompanied him on the trip from Washington.

Three-star generals usually do not venture around on their own without some kind of supporting cast, so I was surprised to see him in full-dress uniform without military escort. However, I was not surprised to see him at the golf club restaurant, always one of his favorite hangouts at Fort Benjamin Harrison, nor was I surprised that he had come across the room to speak to me. In addition to enjoying the noontime meal, I was reading military historian Russell Weigley’s new book, A Great Civil War, when he walked up to my table.⁷ He shook my hand and said, I wish I had more time for that.

I said, I wish you did too. He was a soldier in the fullest sense of the word.

Stephen E. Bower

Fort Jackson, SC

March 11, 2014

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am indebted to many. I want to first acknowledge Tim Maude’s family, friends, and military associates (all noted in the bibliography) who graciously agreed to sit and speak to me about their relationships with Tim and the Maude family. Whatever valued insight into the personal and professional life of Timothy J. Maude appears on these pages is due in no small part to the stories they told. Errors, omissions, and wayward interpretation of facts are, of course, attributable to me alone.

Colonel retired Joe Simek and his wife, Rosie, deserve special mention. They graciously opened their home to me during my visit to Phoenix. The Simeks’ relationship with Lieutenant General Maude spanned most of the thirty-five years Tim was in uniform. Joe says Tim and he were as close as brothers. It is true—they were. We would all be blessed to have friends like Joe Simek. Completion of Tim’s biography would not have been possible without the Simeks. I must also thank them for their tireless commitment to reviewing and commenting on each and every draft chapter of the book.

While I was in Phoenix, Larry and Karen Maude traveled halfway across Arizona to talk to me about their brother Tim and the Maude family. I am grateful for Larry’s brotherly love and for his willingness to share the Maude family story with me. I based much of chapter 3 on Larry’s remembrance of the Maude family and growing up in Indianapolis, Indiana, on East 38th Street.

Retired colonel Ralph Allison, my boss and Chief of Staff of the US Army Soldier Support Institute, deserves my grateful appreciation for his enduring support over the time it has taken to complete this project. I began researching Tim’s Maude’s life when Ralph was the Deputy Commander of the Soldier Support Institute in 2004. He retired from the Army that year and took a job as Chief of Staff, 1st Personnel Command, Schwetzingen, Germany, as a Department of the Army civilian. In 2009, when he returned to the Institute to take his current job, I was still working on the project. I give thanks to his trust in me and his belief that Tim Maude’s contribution to the Army story has lasting value for the people he served and for the generations of soldiers yet to come.

I am indebted to my daughter Lindsay, who did the initial edit of the entire manuscript. She learned much of her editorial trade at the University of Edinborough, Scotland, where she graduated with honors. I am an immensely proud father and give thanks to the time and talent she gave over to me and my work with the United States Army.

I give thanks also to the editors at iUniverse publishers for their painstakingly thorough editorial review of the manuscript. Tim Maude’s story is better told because of their insistence that I meet their standards.

Finally, I am indebted beyond measure to Mrs. Timothy J. Maude, whom most friends call Teri. I am proud to say I am one of those friends. We sat for an untold number of hours in Washington, DC, and Beaufort, South Carolina, while she recounted with exacting detail her life as the wife of an Army officer. Her impressive recollection and intimate knowledge of her husband’s work and the various military assignments that attended it are written into almost every page. As a military spouse, she became a student of the Adjutant General’s Corps mission. In most cases, her instructor was her husband, Tim. I am grateful she was able to share some of her learning with me. She provided the framework around which I built this biographical account, and most of the spirit and energy that moved it. She, more than me, believed I was the right person to do it and has perservered during the months and years it has taken to complete it. Many have gifted me their patience, but hers above all has sustained me to the end.

1

THE DEATH OF A SOLDIER

[My] religious belief teaches me to feel as safe in battle as in bed. God has fixed the time of my death. I do not concern myself about that, but to be always ready, no matter when it may overtake me. [T]hat is the way all men should live, and then all would be equally brave.

—Lieutenant General Thomas Stonewall Jackson¹

On September 28, 2001, Chief of Staff of the Army, General Eric K. Shinseki, notified a grieving nation that Lieutenant General Timothy J. Maude, the Army’s Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel, had perished in the terrorist attack on the Pentagon seventeen days before on Tuesday, September 11. Lieutenant General Maude, wrote Shinseki, understood the human spirit and that the well-being of the Army lay in the commitment of soldiers, civilians, and retirees, veterans, and their families who serve their nation in times of need. Indeed, if there was one soldier who viewed the importance of his work in terms of soldier morale and the general esprit de corps within the US Army, it was Tim Maude. He, as others testified in the aftermath of his life, loved to take care of soldiers. Lieutenant General Maude, continued Shinseki, loved soldiers; he loved the Army; he loved this wonderful country.² His promotion to lieutenant general and subsequent appointment in August 2000 to the position of DCSPER by Secretary of Defense William S. Cohen came almost two years to the day after he returned from Europe to Washington, DC, where he had served two previous tours of duty.³ In August 1998, he assumed the duties Director of Military Personnel Management (DMPM). After a short stay as DMPM, he served briefly as the Assistant Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel (ADCSPER) before rising to the position of DCSPER.

His greatest challenge during his short time as DCSPER might have been in convincing a skeptical nation that a soldier’s devotion to duty and country, a quality General Shinseki recognized in him, was worthy of emulating. As the Army struggled to recruit new soldiers into its ranks and to retain its veterans, Lieutenant General Maude, like many of his contemporaries, began to believe that service and sacrifice were ideals languishing in the twilight of an American past. The Army of One recruiting campaign that defined his tenure as the DCSPER became a concerted but controversial effort to attract into the Army young, admittedly self-serving Americans with the hope that their values could be reshaped by Army training and team-building experiences that subordinated the desires of the individual to the larger group and the nation it served. Tim Maude and his team of DCSPER officials, as Shinseki well understood, loomed large in the process by which serving soldiers learned to subordinate themselves to the family of soldiers that composed the institutional Army.

Three days after the September 11 tragedy, John M. McHugh, congressman from New York’s Twenty-Fourth District and Chairman of the House Armed Services Personnel Committee, arose on the floor of the House of Representatives to salute General Maude, who was presumed killed in the September 11 attack on the Pentagon. Congressman McHugh told members of the House that America had lost a dedicated professional and a true friend to America’s soldiers, one truly deserving of his selection as the Army’s senior military personnel specialist thirteen months before. Back then, the future of the all-volunteer force was seriously in question. Recruiters were struggling to keep the Army up to strength. Understrength Army divisions faced the challenge of having too few people to train and the impact of more frequent deployments on soldier morale. Together with inadequate pay, the Army at that time faced a bleak future. Since then, continued McHugh, the picture had changed for the better as General Maude found the methods, means, and support to turn things around. Quite simply, McHugh concluded, he made a difference.⁴

Indiana Senator Evan Bayh also extolled General Maude’s success in improving the Army’s recruiting fortunes. The Army had exceeded recruitment goals for 2001, and the soldiers brought into the force would serve as lasting proof of Timothy’s tireless commitment to a fully staffed and well-trained United States military. As a native Hoosier, said Senator Bayh, Lt. Gen. Maude represented the best of Indiana.⁵

General James L. Jones, Commandant of the Marine Corps, and his wife, Diane, had lived across the street from the Maudes when they were stationed together at Patch Barracks, headquarters for the US European Command (EUCOM) in Stuttgart, Germany, in the early 1990s. General Jones wrote to Teri, General Maude’s wife, saying he had never known a finer, more dedicated soldier than Tim Maude. The Army and the nation had lost a great patriot whose personal example of selflessness and integrity was an inspiration to us all. General Jones’s heartfelt parting to Teri noted how proud he was to have served with Tim, along with the fact that he was deeply honored to be able to call him his friend.⁶

THE TERRORIST ATTACK ON THE PENTAGON

The September 11 attack on the Pentagon was carried out by five Saudi Arabian terrorists who commandeered American Airlines Flight 77 and crashed it into the Pentagon at 9:37 a.m. that morning. Flight 77 had left Dulles International Airport at 8:20 a.m. and had begun heading west on its regularly scheduled route to Los Angeles. The hijackers took control of the aircraft sometime between 8:50 and 8:56 a.m. Shortly thereafter, they turned off the transponder that had until that time enabled civilian air traffic controllers to track the plane. One of the passengers, Barbara Olson, a former federal prosecutor, a political commentator for CNN, and the wife of US Solicitor General Theodore Olson, called her husband twice prior to the crash with details of the hijacking, which included the fact that the attackers were armed with what she thought were knives. An hour earlier, terrorists had hijacked three other airline passenger planes, two of which were flown into the World Trade Center complex on Manhattan Island in downtown New York City. The third, on its way to San Francisco, plummeted into a reclaimed coal field in rural Somerset County, Pennsylvania, after passengers attempted to overpower the terrorists and regain control of the plane.

The terrorists on Flight 77, later reported to be members of the al-Qaeda terrorist group, slammed the airliner into the southwest wall of the Pentagon, setting off an explosion measuring 2.2 on the Richter scale. The temperature from the resulting fireball exceeded two thousand degrees Fahrenheit, melting and burning everything that happened to be in its path as it billowed out from the point of explosion. The plane’s speed at the point of impact was estimated at 530 miles per hour. It destroyed all five of the above-ground floors of the Pentagon and smashed through three of the five concentric rings of offices that formed the interior of the building. Each of the five rings, designated A through E, was formed in the shape of a pentagon and got progressively smaller as one walked from the outer E ring down one of ten corridors that led to the interior A ring. The A ring, the smallest of the five rings, formed the perimeter around a five-acre open courtyard that lay in the center of the complex.

Flight 77 collided into the outer E ring with enough force and momentum to carry it through to the inner wall of the C ring, where it exited into the small interior service road running between C and B rings. The area directly affected was the newly remodeled section of the Pentagon, which several different organizations occupied. Among them was the Department of the Army’s Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel (ODCSPER), headed by General Maude. Army Staff Sergeant Mark Williams, leading a search-and-rescue team, was the first to enter the building about four hours after the attack. The 120-degree heat of smoldering debris and the overwhelming stench of charred flesh limited the team’s initial efforts to twenty-minute stretches. Williams found burned victims sitting at their desks behind partitions. One woman in a sitting position, he said, looked frozen, her arms stretched as if reading a document. They found several bodies huddled in front of televisions, where they had likely been viewing events taking place at the World Trade Center complex in New York. Williams and his team found many of the airline passengers still strapped into their seats.⁷

The seventeen-day lapse in time that separated General Maude’s death from the official announcement was attributed to the difficulty of identifying many of the victims both on the plane and in the Pentagon who were incinerated by the explosion and fire at the point of impact. Of the 125 military and civilian Pentagon fatalities, Tim Maude was the highest-ranking military official to lose his life that day.⁸ In fact, he shared—along with Lieutenant General Lesley J. McNair, killed at Normandy on July 17, 1944, and Lieutenant General Simon B. Buckner Jr., killed during the Battle of Okinawa on June 18, 1945—the unfortunate distinction of being the highest-ranking American soldier to lose his life in military action. At fifty-three years of age, he had served more than thirty-five years in the Army.

THE DEPUTY CHIEF OF STAFF FOR PERSONNEL

The origins of the Office of the Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel dated back to the reorganization of the Army’s general staff system following World War I. It became the agency charged with formulating personnel policy for the US Army and managing the various programs that resulted from it. In short, the ODCSPER served to generate, oversee, and sustain the Army’s manpower base in times of both peace and war. Terribly broad and unwieldy, the ODCSPER mission came to embrace every program generally affecting the strength and moral well-being of the Army. Those who headed up the ODCSPER became the Army officers chiefly responsible for keeping Department of Defense officials informed of personnel issues affecting the Army’s overall ability to mobilize, train, and deploy for war. When the office was created in 1921, it became a part of a G system that included five staff functions under the Army Chief of Staff: the G1 for Personnel, G2 for Intelligence, G3 for Operations and Training, G4 for Supply, and a War Plans Division. Since that time, it has been variously designated as the Personnel Division (G1); the Personnel and Administration Division; and the Assistant Chief of Staff, G1 (Personnel). Finally, in 1956, the Army’s chief personnel officer became known as the Deputy Chief of Staff for Personnel. Shortly after General Maude’s death, the Department of the Army staff reverted to the original G-staff nomenclature of 1921 in which the DCSPER once again became the Army G1.⁹

At the time of his death, Tim Maude was the highest-ranking officer in the Army’s Adjutant General’s Corps. As a member of the Adjutant General’s Corps, he found himself in a small minority of officers whose considerable abilities and good fortune had enabled them to ascend to the rank of lieutenant general. Since its creation in the immediate years following World War II, the Adjutant General’s Corps has produced only five lieutenant generals, four of whom have served as the DCSPER or G1 of the Army.¹⁰ Most of the high-ranking command and staff positions requiring some theoretical and practical knowledge of Army personnel business were usually awarded to members of the Army’s combat-arms branches, soldiers in infantry, field artillery, or armor whose military training and background had been in other specialties. Historically, assignment to these positions was based on the unwritten and unspoken rule that the Army was better served by awarding these positions to combat-arms officers rather than to people who had been trained in the specialty. That he had survived the odds and gained appointment to the office spoke to his broad yet detailed knowledge of the Army’s personnel system and the fact that he had an exceptional facility for demonstrating that knowledge to others who mattered. No one, says retired lieutenant general Ted Stroup, a former DCSPER in his own right, was better prepared to assume the office of the Army’s top personnel officer than Tim Maude. It was like he had been preparing for the job his entire life.

Maude’s Officer Record Brief (ORB) was the envy of the Adjutant General’s Corps. His assignments had prepared him like few others in his chosen branch to understand the Army’s various personnel systems and programs and how they affected individual soldiers and the ability of field commanders to accomplish their respective missions. During his previous thirty-three years in the Army, he had held several important positions that together had marked him as a potential selection for the DCSPER job.¹¹

Omitted from most biographical sketches were the two years from 1982 to 1984, when he served as the Assistant Executive to the DCSPER of the Army, Lieutenant General Maxwell R. Thurman. Though seldom mentioned, those two years might have been the most formative of Maude’s entire career. Defining moments in one’s life are always subject to debate, but that time arguably came for Tim Maude when he served on Thurman’s staff. Thurman is best remembered as commander of Southern Command and the architect of Operation Just Cause, the 1989 US invasion of Panama to depose Panamanian dictator Manuel Noriega.

Prior to Just Cause, Thurman had served as vice chief of staff of the Army and later as commanding general of the Army’s Training and Doctrine Command (TRADOC). Thurman had no equal as a workaholic in a workaholic culture. As a bachelor, he was unencumbered by family responsibilities, and he seemed to have no other interests outside of soldiering. Thurman, as many of his peers would attest, had married the Army early in his career. For the people who worked for him, Thurman was an extremely intelligent and demanding taskmaster who never tired of his work and who spent far more time in his office than in his home. As a respected and revered leader of soldiers, Thurman had become an Army legend long before his career ended.

Tim’s immediate supervisor was Colonel Bill Reno, General Thurman’s Executive, who one day would follow Thurman into the DCSPER job and find himself formulating wartime personnel policy during Operations Desert Shield and Storm in 1990 and 1991. Sitting close by in another office was Major General Norman H. Schwarzkopf, who, for a time, served as Thurman’s assistant deputy chief of staff for personnel (ADCSPER). As the ADCSPER, Schwarzkopf became Tim Maude’s senior rater. Stormin’ Norman, of course, would later command coalition forces during America’s first war in Iraq at the time Reno served as the DCSPER. At one point in those two years, Major Maude also began his association with Colonel Jack C. Wheeler, another Thurman associate, who, in subsequent years, would inherit command of the US Army Recruiting Command (USAREC) and become a senior ranking officer of the Army’s Adjutant General’s Corps. Wheeler would become another of Tim’s significant mentors, encouraging his growth as a military professional and influencing the Maude brand of leadership. It was no small accomplishment, recalls Lieutenant General Stroup, another Thurman protégé, to become a member of the Thurman Team. Max Thurman, says Stroup, took his responsibilities as leader and mentor seriously, handpicking and developing young officers who demonstrated great potential for military leadership.

Tim Maude was blessed with boyish good looks and an arresting charm that gained him many friends. Although he was not a physically imposing man, standing