by Von Hardesty
His alarmed crewmate Belyayev warmly welcomed an exhausted Leonov back into the safety of the capsule. Leonov was drenched in sweat. Later he learned that during this physical ordeal he lost 12 pounds. None of this drama was televised to the millions of onlookers at home. Once the Voskhod 2 spacecraft appeared to be in some difficulty, higher authorities in Moscow decided to end all radio and television coverage. This was done Soviet-style, abruptly and without any explanation. As a substitute, the airwaves were filled with solemn cadences of Mozart’s Requiem. The choice of music evoked fears for the crew of Voskhod 2, since the Requiem was typically played at state funerals. Days would pass before the fate of Belyayev and Leonov would be known to the public. The Soviets had executed yet another space spectacular, but it had nearly been a disaster.28
Both men soon discovered that there were other challenges yet to come. The oxygen pressure in the capsule started to increase at an alarming rate, owing to a breakdown in the environmental control system. The increased pressure meant that an errant spark from the electrical circuitry could ignite an explosion. This particular danger, however, lessened with time. The beleaguered crew then learned that the automatic guidance system had become inoperative, which meant that the primary retro-rocket system had failed on Voskhod 2. This required the use of manual controls for reentry. The passage through the upper atmosphere was complicated further by the fact that the service or landing module failed to make a clean separation, sending the spacecraft into a series of gyrations. This dangerous spinning ceased at around 60 miles when the cosmonauts broke free of their orbiting module. Now off course, the Voskhod 2 made its final descent nearly 1,200 miles away from the planned recovery site, landing in a remote area near Perm in the Ural Mountains.29
Leonov later recalled the reassuring “sharp jolt” that signaled the deployment of the drogue and the landing chutes. The capsule began its slow drop to the ground, being tossed gently in the wind. The landing engine ignited on schedule, breaking the momentum. Belyayev and Leonov, strapped tightly in their metal cradle seats, then passed into a dense forest area of the taiga, landing in a deep snowdrift. Opening the hatch proved complicated, since it was now blocked by a birch tree. After an awkward interlude, the cosmonauts extricated themselves from the jammed hatch. For the first time they breathed fresh air and felt the extreme cold of the taiga. With the use of an emergency transmitter, Leonov began sending distress signals in Morse code to mission control as darkness set in.30
Finding themselves stranded in the forest was reminiscent of a plot in a medieval Russian fairy tale—a dark and foreboding forest filled with wild bears and wolves. It was spring, the mating season when both of these animals were extremely aggressive and not welcoming to any chance visitors from Baikonur. The sight and the howling of a roaming pack of wolves prompted a decision by the cosmonauts to spend the night inside their capsule. Leonov had brought along a pistol, and he had an ample supply of ammunition, but fate spared them any threatening encounter. Their sojourn in the forest would last two days before recovery. Once Mission Control determined the location of their lost cosmonauts, they dispatched rescue helicopters to retrieve them—a prolonged effort given the remote locale and the need to carve out a landing strip in the forested area. On March 21, Belyayev and Leonov were evacuated to Perm, ending one of the most arduous chapters in space history.31
PROJECT GEMINI ADVANCES THE GAME
NASA announced Project Gemini in December 1961. The goal of Gemini was to develop and refine the necessary techniques for a lunar mission. During the 20-month history of Gemini, ten manned missions would be launched into Earth orbit. As the logical successor to Project Mercury, Gemini showcased a new generation of spacecraft. Gemini carried two astronauts in a capsule weighing twice as much as its single-set Mercury counterpart. It boasted new ejection seats to provide for emergency escape for the astronauts, replacing Mercury’s escape tower. As with the Voskhod series, the Gemini two-man missions gathered physiological data on the impact of prolonged spaceflight on astronauts. Another primary goal was to execute a walk in the hostile environment of outer space. In addition, Gemini would develop and test rendezvous and docking in space, a task viewed as essential to any moon mission. In the beginning the Gemini spacecraft design was simply a scaled-up version of the Mercury—one large enough to carry two astronauts. This conception was articulated by NASA’s Space Task Force in association with the McDonnell Aircraft Corporation, the builder of the Mercury spacecraft. This basic design, however, developed into a more sophisticated vehicle, using advanced fuel cells rather than batteries, allowing for extended space journeys of two weeks or more.32
With its configuration for two astronauts and the added equipment, the Gemini capsule was too heavy to be carried into orbit by the Atlas missile employed in Project Mercury. NASA selected a man-rated version of the Air Force’s second ICBM, the powerful Titan II, for the Gemini program. One of the four Titan test launch pads at Cape Kennedy was modified for the Gemini flights. The Titan II used hypergolic fuel, composed of chemicals so reactive that they burst into fire upon contact with each other, without needing an ignition source. A second vital ingredient of Gemini was using the Atlas missile to orbit an Agena second stage as a target for rendezvous and docking experiments. This ambitious program soon encountered difficulties and delays, requiring more time and effort than NASA had anticipated. Nor did Gemini‘s problems end there: The Titan II suffered from a condition known as longitudinal oscillations, referred to as the “pogo effect.” In addition, the Gemini’s fuel cells developed leaks, requiring a redesign and adaptation. Program costs rose with the many delays, eventually tripling to more than one billion dollars.33
The first unmanned Gemini launch atop a Titan II fell behind schedule, being delayed 11 months until April 1964. However, this initial mission, Gemini 1, completed 64 orbits. This and a second unmanned test validated the Titan II’s readiness to carry astronauts as well as the missile-capsule interface. In March 1965, Gemini 3 became the first manned mission. Crewed by Gus Grissom and John Young and dubbed the Molly Brown, it completed three orbits in the five-hour flight. Using the Gemini’s Orbit Attitude and Maneuvering System (OAMS), a propulsion system composed of 16 small engines, the astronauts were able to alter their orbital flight path, an essential capability for a future space rendezvous.
In June, the Gemini 4 mission achieved a number of important milestones. The spacecraft stayed in orbit for four days, far longer than the Mercury flights and equivalent in time to a projected journey to the moon. The stellar achievement of the mission, however, was the 21-minute space walk by Ed White, the first EVA for the United States. White had been one of nine new astronauts selected by NASA in September 1962 in the first addition to America’s astronaut corps following the original Mercury astronauts in 1959. Born in San Antonio in 1930, White flew Air Force fighters in Germany and later served as a test pilot.34
With his colleague James A. McDivitt flying Gemini 4, White began his adventure in space with the necessary depressurization of the Gemini cabin. The hatch door was then opened as the spacecraft sped above the Indian Ocean. At the start White faced some difficulty in opening the hatch, but this awkward moment passed quickly. He then moved in a deliberate manner, making use of his “Zip Gun,” a double-barreled, compressed-air maneuvering gun, to propel himself into the void of space. He was exhilarated as he moved about in the ocean of space, secured only by a tether. As he maneuvered and took in the dramatic vista of Earth from orbit, he was flying upside down at 17,500 miles an hour. White shared his excitement: “This is the greatest experience; it’s just tremendous…. Right now, I’m standing on my head, and I’m looking right down, and it looks like we’re coming up on the coast of California…. There is absolutely no disorientation associated with it.” During the walk White experimented with his unique handheld gun to travel a distance of about 15 feet and moving out and above the capsule, discovering in the process that he had flown higher than planned. He then corr
ected his position vis-à-vis the capsule with some short bursts, reporting to Mission Control that the gun operated well. He went through a few additional body turns using the gun, and then—to his great disappointment—the Zip Gun became empty. The spacewalk had been brief, dramatic, and executed without any mishap. When it came time for the inevitable return to the capsule, a reluctant White told McDivitt: “It’s the saddest moment of my life.”35
Earlier in the flight, one maneuver by the Gemini crew had not gone as smoothly. They attempted to rendezvous with the second stage of the Titan II, then in orbit a few hundred feet behind them. The Gemini crew successfully turned their spacecraft around to face the spent booster and then advanced toward it, using the capsule’s thrusters to control their movement. Yet they failed to close the gap between the booster stage and Gemini 4. McDivitt recognized that the mission’s first priority, the EVA, could be endangered by continued expenditure of the capsule’s limited fuel for orbital maneuvering and ended further attempts at rendezvous. This was the first time that a link-up of one spacecraft with another had been attempted in space.36
Later Gemini flights did achieve considerable success in perfecting rendezvous techniques while at the same time demonstrating flexibility and innovation in responding to unexpected situations. A prime example of this occurred when an Agena upper stage with which Gemini 6 was to rendezvous failed to reach orbit. Lacking a target, the Gemini 6 launch was cancelled and replaced with an ambitious new assignment for its crew: an orbital rendezvous with Gemini 7. Because the rendezvous would require two Gemini launches within days of each other, and only one Gemini launch pad was available, the challenge facing NASA was to launch Gemini 7 and then clean, refurbish, and prepare Pad 19 for the launch of Gemini 6 (renamed 6-A for the new mission) in an unprecedented eight days. Normally, two months were allotted for this task, which included repairing the considerable damage to the launch pad from the superheated exhaust of the Titan II’s engines as the rocket lifted from the pad. Other essential functions were the erection and testing of the Titan II, mating it with the capsule, and checking out the complete assembly. Gemini 7, carrying Frank Borman and James Lovell, Jr., orbited on December 4, 1965, for a 14-day mission. The refurbishment and launch preparations at Pad 19 were completed within the allotted time frame, though a last-minute problem delayed the Gemini 6-A launch until December 15.37
The orbital maneuvering for the rendezvous took several hours. When Gemini 6-A, carrying Wally Schirra and Tom Stafford, was slightly below and 37 miles behind Gemini 7, Stafford flew his capsule as close as two feet to Gemini 7. Each capsule was able to maneuver in turn to inspect the other from all directions. When the rendezvous was completed, the capsules “parked” about 30 miles apart while the crews slept. For the first time two vehicles had maneuvered to meet in space.
That mission was not the end of Gemini’s triumphs, or, for that matter, of the program’s problems. In March 1966, Neil Armstrong and David Scott set off in Gemini 8 to achieve the next step following space rendezvous: orbital docking. Just minutes after closing in on the Agena target and successfully docking with it, however, the two merged spacecraft began spinning uncontrollably. Scott separated the Gemini capsule from the Agena, but the spinning increased to a full revolution every second. Concerned that they might become too dizzy to regain control, Scott radioed NASA Mission Control: “We have serious problems here. We’re tumbling end over end…. We’ve disengaged from the Agena.” The crew was able to use their reentry control system to stabilize the spacecraft, but they had to make an emergency return to Earth, using a “secondary” landing area near Okinawa. The crew was uninjured, but it had been a close call.
Armstrong, like John Glenn an Ohio native, would go on to achieve worldwide fame as the first human to step onto the moon. He joined the astronaut corps in 1962, one of nine members of NASA’s second astronaut class. Armstrong had learned to fly at 15 years of age and had a student pilot’s license before he earned his driver’s license. He later flew combat missions for the Navy during the Korean War and piloted the legendary NASA X-15 rocket-powered research plane, achieving speeds of 4,000 miles per hour.38
Like Armstrong, nearly all of the Gemini astronauts were selected from NASA’s Group 2 and Group 3 astronaut classes, who joined the original Mercury Seven in 1962 and 1963, respectively. Nine were added in 1962 and 14 in the following year. Of the original Mercury astronauts, only Grissom, Schirra, and Cooper flew Gemini missions. But many of the members of Group 2 and Group 3 would go all the way—to the moon.
In July 1966, Gemini 10’s John Young and Michael Collins succeeded in docking with their Agena target and holding both spacecraft steady. They fired the Agena’s propulsion system, taking the combined spacecraft’s orbit out to 547 miles at its apogee, a new record for manned flight. “That was really something,” Young reported after the Agena burn. “When that baby lights, there’s no doubt about it.” Two months later, Gemini 11 reached 850 miles, powered by the Agena stage it had docked with. Astronaut Charles “Pete” Conrad described what he could see from that height: “It’s fantastic. You wouldn’t believe it. I’ve got India in the left window, Borneo under our nose, and you’re [the controllers in Australia with whom he was talking] in the right window. The world is round.” At their height, the horizon-to-horizon view encompassed nearly 5,000 miles.39 With these successful docking missions, American astronauts had demonstrated their mastery of the complex, vital science of orbital mechanics, the process by which one orbiting object catches up with another in space to achieve rendezvous and docking.
The NASA Gemini simulator played a key role in the training regimen of the astronauts by providing a vehicle for terrestrial practice in precision maneuvering and complex orbital calculations for rendezvous. The other key ingredient for success was the onboard computer. Gemini was the first American spacecraft to be fitted with a computer, which performed essential calculations for the execution of precise maneuvers in space. This necessity arose because all objects orbiting the Earth must resist the force of gravity to do so. That force varies with the distance from Earth, so that satellites closer to the planet need to orbit at a greater speed in order to resist the Earth’s gravitational pull. Orbiting objects at a greater distance away resist the planet’s gravitational pull more and therefore travel slower. Because of this link between height and speed, an astronaut needing to slow down to carry out an orbital rendezvous would have to use his rocket engine to kick himself into a higher orbit. Speeding up required using the engine as a brake to drop into a lower orbit. A hypothetical “error” by an astronaut, such as increasing his speed while trying to overtake a target vehicle, would result in a higher orbit at a reduced velocity. The target would pull away until it disappeared beyond the Earth’s horizon; it would then circle the planet, eventually reappearing behind and below the astronaut’s capsule.40
In November 1965, the highly successful Project Gemini series came to an end with the launch of the twelfth mission. Crewed by Jim Lovell, Jr., and Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, Gemini 12 became one of the most spectacular outings in the program. During a four-day flight, the final Gemini mission featured a total of 5.5 hours of EVA by Aldrin, encompassing three separate walks. Aldrin utilized handrails, foot restraints, and waist tethers during his EVA, and reported that underwater training simulating EVA had been very helpful in preparing him for the spacewalks. A member of NASA’s third (1963) astronaut class, Aldrin attended West Point and then flew F-86 Sabres for the Air Force in Korea, shooting down two Russian-built MiG-15 fighters. Before becoming an astronaut, he had earned a Ph.D. from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology with a dissertation focusing on manned space rendezvous. He made effective use of his academic studies at NASA, working tirelessly to develop solutions to the highly complex problems of orbital rendezvous and docking.41
Project Gemini made major contributions to the emerging American space program in the mid-1960s, accumulating 24 million miles of manned spaceflight experience, t
he equivalent of more than 50 round-trip journeys to the moon. Gemini represented a dramatic advance over the cautious up-and-down spaceflights of Project Mercury. Americans were now making prolonged stays in outer space, up to 14 days. All these impressive achievements set the stage for Project Apollo and the upcoming voyages to the moon.
A PARALLEL SPACE RACE—THE ROBOTIC MISSIONS
Even as America prepared its astronauts for a lunar mission, a parallel space race unfolded. Both the Soviet Union and the United States shared the realization that much remained to be learned before humans could set foot on another celestial body. For example, no one knew what the astronauts or cosmonauts would encounter when they landed on the moon. How much lunar dust would be kicked up, and would it interfere with the astronauts’ visibility? Was the surface stable enough to support astronauts and their spacecraft, or would they sink into lunar dust? What about radiation in space?42
The only way to answer these and many other questions was to send unmanned robotic scout vehicles ahead of humans. The key precedent for such an endeavor was the early Soviet Luna moon probes, which, along with the American Pioneer series, represented the first attempts to travel beyond Earth orbit, starting in 1958. Their success record, while decidedly mixed, did yield some successes for both nations, including flybys of the moon, lunar orbits, probes that hit the moon, and others that went into orbit around the sun. These flights helped both nations develop a logical order of progression for space exploration in the 1960s. The tasks were categorized by complexity and sophistication into flyby, orbiting, and landing. As the names imply, flyby probes whizzed by their target planet, or the moon, accumulating basic data that could be used to allow later spacecraft to orbit around the moon or a future planet. These vehicles captured more intensive information during repeated passes over their celestial targets. That data, in turn, helped planners to evaluate the best places to land. In the case of the moon, at least, humans were sure to follow.43