by Dan Parry
With the safe return of Apollo 9, and a decision made about Apollo 10, Armstrong, Aldrin and Collins began to feel a little clearer about their own mission.22 Unresolved issues were suddenly met with a new sense of urgency, not least the question of who would be first to walk on the surface. After Buzz had approached Deke in search of a Gemini flight, he had been deemed to be brash. Since then, in terms of intellectual ability, rendezvous expertise and EVA experience, Aldrin had proved himself to be one of the leading astronauts. While some questioned the way he had pursued the 'first out' issue, no-one could deny that it needed to be settled. His opinions could easily have been brushed aside but in fact they were addressed in a top-level meeting. Chris Kraft, the director of flight operations, Bob Gilruth, the director of the Manned Spacecraft Center, George Low, the Apollo office manager, and Deke Slayton, the director of flight crew operations, knew that whoever they selected would go down in history.23 Overnight they would become, in Kraft's words, 'an American hero ... beyond any soldier or politician or inventor'. Kraft was clear: 'It should be Neil Armstrong.'24
While Aldrin's talents were admired, the managers were not so much concerned with technical ability as with who would best serve as a representative of NASA. Three of them plumped for Neil, only Deke reserved judgement, but he was outvoted and the decision was carried.25 On 14 April, at a press conference in Houston, Low announced that 'plans called for Mr Armstrong to be the first man out after the Moon landing'.26 Deke explained to Buzz that in addition to Neil's seniority, Armstrong ought to leave first since Buzz would be hemmed in by the inward-opening hatch.27 Aldrin later suggested that this technical explanation was plausible and he was happy to accept it. But Michael Collins remembered that 'Buzz's attitude took a noticeable turn in the direction of gloom and introspection shortly thereafter'.28 With the question finally settled, the training regime could be amended and the crew once again could focus on the mission.
The question of how someone might train to land on the Moon was raised almost as soon as Kennedy had finished talking to Congress.29 The people best placed to provide answers were experienced test pilots. Men like Armstrong had spent years learning about the principles of aerodynamics and other key elements of flight – but none of this knowledge would be of much use in a vacuum. Working with data gathered from X-15 flights, and not much else, they would have to start virtually from scratch. A NASA study group, set up in 1961 at Edwards Air Force Base, took on the difficult and dangerous task of building a flying machine that could simulate flight in lunar gravity, which is just one-sixth that of Earth's.30 Initially, Armstrong was the team's only test pilot.31 Ironically, he found himself working on the problems that would be faced by whoever came to fly the first mission to the Moon. By chance, Bell Aerosystems in New York were working on the same idea and together the two groups agreed on a basic design that looked as if a jet engine had been dropped into a pile of scaffolding.32
Officially described as the lunar landing research vehicle (the LLRV), the machine was popularly known as the 'Flying Bedstead' due to its strange appearance. Armstrong considered it to be 'unconventional, sometimes contrary, and always ugly'.33 After leaving Edwards, Neil continued to monitor the development of the LLRV. While working on simulators and other NASA training facilities he ensured the two machines Bell sent to Edwards in 1964 met Houston's requirements.34 After the vehicle climbed to around 500 feet, the jet engine was throttled back until it supported five-sixths of the LLRV's weight. Once in 'lunar mode', the machine used a pair of throttleable thrusters to carry the remaining weight and simultaneously manage the rate of descent. A further 16 thrusters controlled roll, pitch and yaw, hissing as they fired jets of gas in short, sharp bursts. The machine had none of the controllable surfaces found on an aircraft, it was hard to fly, and the pilot was not enclosed in a cabin but found himself sitting in an ejection seat that was precariously perched on a platform. Dangerous as it was, the LLRV was regarded as a prototype lunar lander, and its value as such was quickly recognised.
While the LLRV was still being developed, Deke Slayton looked at alternative ways of teaching astronauts how to fly to the Moon. As well as operating in an unfamiliar gravity field, the lunar lander would have other characteristics that would be new to a jet pilot. Since it would be able to fly slowly above the ground without stalling, and would even be able to hover, Deke encouraged the men to learn to fly helicopters. Although they could replicate lunar descent trajectories, including hovering, helicopters could not simulate lunar gravity – something Armstrong knew had already been concluded while he was still at Edwards.35 The Lunar Landing Research Facility in Langley, Virginia, however, offered a closer taste of the real thing. The facility used cables and rigging to carry five-sixths of the weight of a replica lander that was suspended from an A-frame structure, 260 feet tall. Safer than a genuine flying machine, it allowed pilots to try things nobody would attempt in an LLRV. But its action was limited and ultimately so too was its value as an effective preparation for lunar flight. In some ways the closest comparison to the LM was an electronic simulator built by Grumman, which closely matched the interior of the spacecraft. Although it couldn't leave the ground, it was essential in developing an astronaut's familiarity with the LM's computers, radars and propulsion systems. Unlike the LLRV, the simulator offered only virtual risks, in that if anything went wrong the crew could simply switch it off and start again. Ultimately the best way to prepare for a trip to the surface of the Moon was to spend time using all of the available resources.
In early 1966 it was decided that the LLRV was of such value that three more would be built.36 The original two were sent from Edwards to Ellington Air Force Base, Houston, and all five were to be known as lunar landing training vehicles (LLTVs). The LLTV was to be given a more powerful jet engine, upgraded electronics, longer endurance in 'lunar mode' and a cabin that more closely resembled the cockpit of the LM (including the instruments).37 Beginning in the summer of 1966, a few months after his Gemini 8 flight, Armstrong periodically worked with Bell on the development of the LLTV, but it wasn't until March 1967 that he got his first chance to try it.38 After an initial test-flight, he didn't fly it again until the following year.
Dangerous as it was, Bill Anders believed that of all the astronauts Neil was particularly suited to machines that were difficult to handle because 'if it required something counter-intuitive or otherwise against the grain, he figured it out'.39 On 6 May 1968, Armstrong had been airborne for five minutes when the vehicle began to tilt sharply while he was just 200 feet above the ground. Unable to recover, by the time he had dropped to 100 feet the machine was tilting over so far he risked being propelled into the ground by his ejection seat. With less than a second to spare the seat rocketed him clear of the LLTV, and dangling beneath his parachute he hit the ground in front of groups of shocked onlookers.40
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Aboard the command module at the end of the third day the crew were beginning to set switches in the correct position, place blinds over the windows and turn down the cabin lights. During each rest period one man slept in a couch, with a lightweight headset taped to his ear in case Houston needed to call and a seatbelt fastened across his lap to stop him drifting into the instrument panel. The others used sleep restraints, which resembled light sleeping bags and were made of a mesh fabric with a zip down the middle. These were anchored beneath the two side couches where there was plenty of room to stretch out, the men's feet reaching towards the lower equipment bay.
They had not reached any firm conclusion about the unidentified object accompanying them at a distance of 100 miles or so. They presumed it was either debris from the spacecraft, or else one of the four panels that had enclosed the LM within its container.41 It was not the first mystery the crew had encountered during the mission. Buzz later recalled that while trying to doze at the start of the second night he had seen 'little flashes inside the darkened cabin, spaced a couple of minutes apart'.42 On two further occasions he saw 'double fl
ashes, at points separated by maybe a foot'. Buzz believed something was penetrating the spacecraft, causing an 'emission' as it entered. He thought the second flash might occur when the object, whatever it was, struck part of the cabin. He realised that whatever was causing the flashes was coming from the direction of the Sun, and said as much to the others. Armstrong also saw flashes of light, counting more than 50 while looking into the spacecraft's interior over the course of an hour.43
Bill Anders, who flew to the Moon with Apollo 8 and who had a degree in nuclear engineering, later suggested the flashes may have been caused by 'cosmic radiation'.44 Radiation had long been a major concern for the Apollo mission planners, and flights were timed to avoid dangerous periods of solar activity. NASA's efforts to predict solar storms were proving to be successful. But the flight surgeons remained wary, and at the end of each day the crew dutifully reported their personal radiation measurements. It was later believed the flashes were taking place not inside the spacecraft but inside the eyeball, although their precise nature remains subject to speculation.
At 61 hours and 40 minutes into the mission, the astronauts were settling down for the night. They were now 186,400 miles from Earth and travelling at little more than 2,000mph. At this point, the spacecraft coasted out of the Earth's gravitational influence and slipped into the Moon's, although no physical evidence of this was felt by the crew. After Apollo 8 had reached this neutral point in space, flight controller Philip Shaffer told the press that in working out where the spacecraft was, Houston's computers were no longer using the Earth as a frame of reference but the Moon instead. On paper this meant the position of the spacecraft appeared to jump by several miles, and some reporters mistakenly wondered whether the astronauts had felt a jolt.45 Aboard Apollo 11, the crew were still unable to see their destination. They would nevertheless become aware of its presence as it pulled them towards it at a steadily increasing speed. Neil, Michael and Buzz were now held within the grip of the Moon – and come what may, they would soon be dragged towards its mysterious far side.
Chapter 9
INTO THE DARKNESS
Piercing sunlight flared through each of the command module's five windows as the spacecraft slowly rolled on its axis at the start of the fourth day. The crew experienced a gentle sense of momentum as the sunshine meandered through the cabin, slowly drifting across the glass on the instrument gauges and bouncing off the transparent breakfast bags. Sunlight and the Earth were largely all the men had seen through the windows since day two. They had been able to identify specific stars when working on the P52 computer program but familiar constellations had been obliterated by sunshine. Today would be different. While they ate, a cold gloom shrouded the spacecraft, and the sun's rays receded before being snuffed out altogether. The crew had coasted so close to their destination that, silently and without warning, they passed into the shadow of the Moon and perpetual day was exchanged for night. 'I feel that all of us are aware that the honeymoon is over,' wrote Collins. 'We are about to lay our little pink bodies on the line.'1 In a few hours Michael would climb into the left-hand couch, and once they reached the far side of the Moon he would fly them into lunar orbit. He hadn't slept particularly well and feared that the pressure of the work ahead was threatening to overtake them.2
Blocking the Sun's glare, the hostile surface of the Moon loomed towards them, filling their windows with an alien landscape that stretched for hundreds of miles. Much of the surface lay hidden in shadow, the darkness merging with the black sky above. 'We are able to see stars again and recognise constellations for the first time,' Armstrong told Houston. Away from the filtering effects of Earth's atmosphere, the stars didn't twinkle but stood out as static pinpricks of light. Whereas previous manned missions had been confined to Earth orbit, Neil was commanding the first flight to a specific destination – and now, suddenly, here it was, a little more than 11,000 miles away. As Earth's oceans reflected sunshine back out into space, pools of cool blue light were cast upon the lunar surface, illuminating it as if it were an empty stage lit for a sinister night scene. Earthshine is three times brighter than moonshine, and to Michael it revealed the 'most awesome sphere I have ever seen'.3 When the crew switched off the interior lamps to photograph the stunning view outside they found the light was bright enough to read by.
By putting the Moon between themselves and the Sun, the men had arranged their own solar eclipse. Although the Sun itself lay hidden from view, its atmosphere of hot gases could be seen streaming away from the edges of the lunar surface. Beyond the swathes of shadow, the Moon's entire circumference was crowned by a spectacular reddish-golden light. The ring of fiery colours was impossible to see from Earth with such clarity. Backlit by the Sun, the Moon took on a distinctly three-dimensional appearance. The crew could clearly see that it was no longer the romantic disc they had known since childhood but had become a giant rocky sphere, foreboding and unwelcoming, and apparently not much into romance after all. Lifeless plains lay at the foot of arid mountain chains. Here and there channels cut through great seas of dust, and everywhere craters of all sizes indicated an ancient landscape that had been bombarded by meteoroids for years beyond imagining.
Aldrin: 'It's quite an eerie sight. There is a very marked three-dimensional aspect of having the Sun's corona coming from behind the Moon the way it is.'
Houston: 'Roger.'
Aldrin: 'And it looks as though – I guess what's giving it that three-dimensional effect is the Earthshine. I can see Tycho fairly clearly – at least if I'm right side up, I believe it's Tycho – in Earthshine. And, of course, I can see the sky is lit all the way around the Moon, even on the limb of it where there's no Earthshine or sunshine.'
Now that they had travelled so close to the Moon, spectacular features such as the crater Tycho were particularly impressive. The Moon too had come quite a way, travelling nearly 200,000 miles since the mission began. While orbiting its bigger partner, the Moon simultaneously rotates so that it permanently presents the same side to Earth. While the near side has been studied by astronomers over many centuries, the far side has barely been examined at all. (Although it's sometimes erroneously described as the dark side, the truth is the Moon does not have a permanent 'dark side' any more than the Earth does.) Flying through darkness, Apollo 11 was being pulled towards the unmapped regions of the far side that were awaiting them 'over the hill'.
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It remained an uncertain journey. Lunar gravity includes mysterious pockets of energy which are strong enough to affect the orbit of unmanned probes. It was known that these patches of super gravity were associated with the flat lunar 'seas', where the interior rock was more dense than surrounding areas.4 These concentrations of mass (known as 'mascons') posed risks that were hard to calculate. Apollo 8 had investigated their impact on an orbiting spacecraft, but without a lunar module the crew had been forced to leave many questions unanswered.5 Would the LM be pulled off course at a critical moment during the landing? What effect would the mascons have on the rendezvous with the command module? Apollo 9 had proved the LM worked well in the benign conditions above the Earth. But it was hoped that by flying the spacecraft above the Moon, Apollo 10 would discover how it would react to lunar gravity. Accurate information was essential to those planning a future landing, among them Armstrong – who wanted to know as much about mascons as possible.6
McDivitt had encountered minor problems with his LM, as was to be expected with any prototype spacecraft. Modifications, and not an inconsiderable amount of faith, were adopted before the lander was permitted to venture into the potential dangers of lunar gravity. By the time Apollo 10 was ready to fly, there were just seven months left before Kennedy's deadline. In taking the complete Apollo system to the Moon for the first time, commander Tom Stafford, command module pilot John Young and lunar module pilot Gene Cernan were to put the 'tissuepaper' vehicle through a demanding series of tests, nearly a quarter of a million miles away from Earth. 'What do you tell your six-year-
old daughter?' Cernan later asked. 'I don't know, I just tried to find a way that wouldn't disappoint her if I didn't come home.'
After launching on 18 May 1969, the Apollo 10 crew became the first astronauts to broadcast live, colour TV pictures from space. Later, inspecting the pressurised cabin of the lightweight LM, Young couldn't believe how far the hatch bowed out into the vacuum.7 On 22 May, Young remained aboard the command module (named Charlie Brown) while his crew-mates sealed themselves into the lander. Stafford and Cernan – who together had come close to disaster during the Gemini 9 EVA – then separated ('undocked', as NASA described it) from the command module at the start of their exploratory flight towards the probable landing ground. Within two hours Stafford and Cernan had flown the LM, call-sign Snoopy, down to a height of just 47,000 feet, or eight miles, above the surface.