Moon Lander: How We Developed the Apollo Lunar Module (Smithsonian History of Aviation and Spaceflight)

by Kelly, Thomas J.

Evans joined Grumman in 1951, his interest in marketing and customer relations leading him to become vice president and director of Business Development in 1960, heading a small team of marketing professionals. His department was a departure from Grumman’s usual technically dominated approach. Staffed mostly with retired military officers, lawyers, and salesmen, Business Development’s focus was capturing new business and keeping existing customers satisfied. Saul Ferdman, one of the few engineers on Evans’s team, was thoroughly imbued with his “keep the customer happy” philosophy.3

  Evans recognized that Grumman had cultural differences with NASA and a serious problem in making NASA’s leadership believe that the LM program was not playing second fiddle to the navy within Grumman. When he became the company’s president, he was anxious to do something about this situation. The opportunity came very quickly.

  NASA’s Bob Gilruth called Evans to congratulate him on his elevation to president and to request a meeting with him to review Grumman’s schedule and cost performance difficulties on LM. Gilruth and Joe Shea met Evans in Bethpage and demanded that he control the situation. Evans summarized the actions Grumman had already taken and invited NASA to provide experts to review Grumman’s management of the LM program. He said he would regard the NASA reviewers as his “personal management analysis staff.”

  Wesley L. Hjornevik of the ASPO, assisted by R. Wayne Young, LM project officer, and Thomas Markley, CSM project officer, led a large NASA review team drawn from Houston and Headquarters. They moved into Plant 25 in Bethpage, and some of the team members also visited Grumman’s major subcontractors. They attended some of our ongoing meetings, such as Gavin and Mullaney’s weekly program meeting, Rathke’s and my Engineering project meeting, and Coursen’s ground-support equipment meeting. They studied the cost and schedule performance of Grumman and its subcontractors, comparing predictions and promises versus actual results. The review team interviewed Grumman’s corporate and LM project management, and examined our organization, staffing, procedures, and delegation of authority and responsibility. It was an intensive, highly professional review, and after ten days the Hjornevik team reported its findings to NASA and Grumman top management.

  The report was critical of Grumman’s management of the LM program, but it also contained constructive suggestions for improvement. The review team noted that recent cost growth and schedule slippages had been concentrated in the subcontractors, rather than the in-house Grumman effort. They attributed this to the absence of a focal point for subcontractor management in Grumman’s LM program organization, and to splintered responsibility for dealing with subcontractors between Engineering and the Business Office. Hjornevik and Shea also felt that Grumman had not fully implemented work package management or related the defined work packages to the program’s leadership. Although work packages had been prepared to define, estimate costs, and schedule every part of the program, the work package managers had little authority and often competed with one another for resources.

  The team considered that GSE was still seriously underestimated and undersupported at Grumman, and that although GSE Engineering’s performance had improved, with about 80 percent of the designs either released or on schedule, the problems had shifted to GSE Manufacturing, where schedule performance was still terrible. Hjornevik’s team was unable to find a coordinated overall plan for GSE. They urged Grumman to demand better GSE performance by holding daily program management meetings and consolidating the GSE Manufacturing facilities, which were scattered throughout the Bethpage complex. NASA also recommended that Grumman off-load its internal GSE workload by purchasing GSE end items from companies such as General Electric, North American, and McDonnell, which were already producing similar GSE units for the Apollo and Gemini programs that could be redesigned or modified for LM.

  Lew Evans reacted swiftly and decisively to the Hjornevik Team’s findings and recommendations. Senior Vice President George Titterton moved into an office next to Joe Gavin’s in Plant 25, eschewing his far more luxurious quarters in Plant 5’s “mahogany row.” Evans put him in charge of all space programs at Grumman, with at least 80 percent of his effort to be spent on LM. Although he was not relieved of his other corporate responsibilities for program management, business, and contracts management, Titterton increased his already heavy concentration on LM to almost full time. I marveled at how Joe Gavin continued to perform in his usual competent, unruffled manner, despite Titterton’s seeming incursion into his authority.

  Many other top level LM program organization and key personnel changes took place at Evans’s direction.4 Bob Mullaney was made Titterton’s assistant and would be reassigned to Lew Evans’s staff when LM’s management performance improved. To me it seemed that, as the program manager, Mullaney had been made the scapegoat for Grumman’s poor cost and schedule performance on LM. As in professional sports, if the team loses the manager often gets fired. In addition, Joe Shea and Mullaney did not get along well. Mullaney could not resist baiting Shea with provocative comments, sometimes in public. Shea was still smarting from the standoff with Grumman in his incentive contract conversion exercise where Mullaney outmaneuvered him to a draw.

  Bill Rathke replaced Mullaney as LM program manager and I succeeded him as LM Engineering manager. My job of LM project engineer was not filled, but Carbee, Whitaker, and Coursen were made Subsystem, System, and GSE project engineers, respectively. I viewed this with chagrin—I lost Rathke’s steady guidance and close involvement with LM Engineering and had to assume much of his workload.

  Brian Evans became LM subcontracts manager, reporting to Gavin. He was responsible for the performance of Grumman’s LM subcontractors and for assuring that our subs received adequate support from wherever it was needed within the LM program. The individual subcontract managers reported to Brian Evans and their authority was strengthened, making them the senior management interface with the subcontractors. The subsystem and cognizant engineers reported to them on any matters affecting the subcontractor. Each subcontract manager led a combined Subcontracts-Engineering team with support from other LM departments as required. This provided the focused subcontract management approach that the Hjornevik team had recommended so strongly. Brian Evans brought in several senior procurement managers to strengthen the ranks of subcontract management and set high standards for them to meet with their subcontractors. Although mild mannered and even self-effacing, he created an environment in his organization in which his subcontract managers did not hesitate to demand a hearing from the president or CEO of their subcontractor, if they thought the problem warranted it.

  In the critical area of GSE, Daniel Culleton, an experienced plant manager from Grumman Manufacturing, was made GSE Manufacturing manager, reporting to Rathke and Gavin. He was also given more resources. Grumman purchased a fifty-thousand-square-foot building in Syosset and refurbished it for efficient GSE fabrication and assembly. GSE Manufacturing was consolidated at this one location. GSE budgets and staffing were again increased and support from Ed Dalva’s Corporate Integrated Logistics Support Department was strengthened.

  To complement Grumman’s actions NASA appointed a management review team headed by Wayne Young to meet with Grumman monthly to assess status, tackle problems, and follow up on the effectiveness of the changes made in response to the Hjornevik report. NASA appeared pleased with Lew Evans’s prompt and stern reaction to their review and the concentrated attention Grumman’s senior corporate management was devoting to the LM program. They felt that at last Grumman was going beyond its traditional dedication to the U.S. Navy and was considering NASA and its Apollo program a very high priority customer.

  Within three months after this management shakeup, Grumman’s performance showed some improvement. Subcontractor performance generally improved, showing less schedule slippage and cost growth. Although better, these problems were not eliminated, and management pressure and scrutiny intensified.

  Grumman gradually turned the corner on its GSE problems duri
ng the summer of 1966. Schedule slippages and parts shortages decreased significantly as the new GSE factory became operational and the added people on the program were trained and became effective. The workload on GSE Engineering and Manufacturing was reduced by procuring many end items through competitive bidding, and buying and modifying “common use” GSE from North American and from the Gemini program. Some GSE items were furnished by NASA without charge as surplus inventory, in which case we saved money as well as time and manpower. By the end of the year, GSE availability was no longer constraining the schedule along the critical path5 of the LM program.

  Schedule Iterations

  In July 1966 LM-1 through LM-4, all the flight LMs in the factory, were late to schedule and still slipping. LM-1, the first flight LM, was delivered to KSC on 22 June 1967, five months late to the prediction Shea had made to Congress in October 1966.6 The Apollo 8 mission orbited the Moon without LM. It had originally been scheduled as the first manned LM mission, to be flown in Earth orbit with the CSM. When LM-3, the first manned LM, was unable to meet the Apollo 8 schedule, NASA did not want to lose Apollo momentum after the successful manned CSM Earth-orbit flight of Apollo 7. At George Low’s urging, they rapidly developed the spectacularly successful CSM lunar-orbit mission, which thrilled the world on Christmas Eve 1968.

  Larry Moran and his Scheduling Group struggled valiantly to keep up with the endless schedule iterations and to provide LM management with a broader view of whether we were gaining or losing in the battle to maintain schedules. They collected PERT input data daily from every corner of the LM program, feeding it into the computer overnight and updating the wall displays of schedules and networks early in the morning. Moran drove himself and his group relentlessly, even as they tried to instill schedule discipline into the many diverse groups from whom they collected data. Throughout all the long hours and iterations, Moran maintained unfailing good humor. I remember coming across him and several of his cohorts late one evening in Plant 25.1 stayed while Larry showed me the latest problem areas in the schedule and led me through the critical path on the network diagram. One of his men said he wished he were home, to which Larry replied (in jest, but with a straight face), “Whaddaya mean you wish you were home? You are home!”

  I believe that Larry Moran’s dedication to the LM program ultimately cost him his life. Smoking heavily and living on coffee and junk food while keeping long hours on the job, he was physically run down. On Memorial Day weekend 1967 he fell ill and died from a fast-moving, unidentified infection. I remember him with warmth and admiration as one of the unsung heroes of the LM program.

  Subcontractors and Suppliers

  Although we at Grumman were fiercely proud of our LM, we recognized that we had to share ownership of this marvelous machine with NASA, who directed, funded, and contributed heavily to its technical development, and with Grumman’s network of subcontractors and suppliers. About 50 percent of the work on LM (by dollar value) was done for Grumman by hundreds of companies located in forty-six states. Ranging from giant corporations such as RCA and United Aircraft to small specialty shops making unique components and parts, these companies had thousands of people designing and building LM subsystems, components, and materials. Their dedication and expertise was vital to the LM program. Our vendors excelled in advanced, highly technical specialties and they had a long history of supplying similar flight equipment for aircraft, which gave them valuable design and manufacturing know-how. Without Grumman’s capable subcontractors and suppliers the LM would never have reached the launch pad, much less the Moon.

  I came to know many of these companies, their people and their products, as the LM program moved forward. I regularly attended quarterly reviews and other important meetings with our major subcontractors: RCA, STL, Bell, Hamilton Standard, Rocketdyne, and Marquardt. When problems arose, my involvement with them increased, as with, for example, the previously described problems with rocket engines, tanks, and batteries. I also visited many of our component suppliers, usually because they were having problems, but sometimes just to see what Grumman could do to help them meet their schedules and performance requirements. In this latter mode I made two West Coast vendor trips in 1966 that acquainted me with the key people, manufacturing processes and technical issues involved with a number of essential LM components.

  Grumman’s subcontractors and suppliers actively supported the LM flight missions by standing ready to provide whatever assistance we might require. The major subcontractors had technical representatives with us in Houston during the missions, sometimes in the mission evaluation room (MER) in Building 45. All suppliers were on call from Grumman at Houston or the mission support room in Bethpage (MSR-B). On several occasions they tracked down test and inspection records providing vital information about the specific components involved or suspected in flight anomalies. An “anomaly” was any performance or event noted in flight that was different from “nominal” (normal or expected). In some cases suppliers ran specially requested tests on their units in their laboratories to check performance in a unique situation encountered or expected in flight, as the flight mission was underway.

  Through subcontractor and supplier visits plus the major subcontractors’ quarterly reviews and special meetings as required for problem solving, I maintained close contact with the subcontractors, their key people and their principal design, manufacturing and test problems. This enabled me to make informed judgments to help them, balancing test requirements versus schedule and authorizing performance deviations or parts substitutions. Subcontractor contacts later proved invaluable in flight mission support. I could discuss in-flight problems comfortably with their people and could clearly visualize the hardware and the critical manufacturing and test processes.

  As the Apollo program moved ahead I became increasingly proud of our subcontractor and supplier team. The breadth of talent they represented helped us and NASA through the rough spots on the flight missions, including the LM lifeboat rescue on Apollo 13. It was a privilege to work with such fine people who were self motivated far beyond the scope of their obligations as equipment suppliers—they shared with us and NASA the dream of reaching for the Moon.

  On Schedule at Last

  By the fall of 1968 Grumman was essentially on schedule with LM deliveries, placing us in good position to support the scheduled launches of Apollos 9, 10, and 11 in March, May, and July 1969. If all went well Apollo 11 might be the first landing on the Moon. We still could not ease up, however: there were too many scheduled PERT events to go, any one of which could be hung up or changed by unforeseen events. But at least we could glimpse, in the far-off and hazy distance, the tantalizing goal of our journey. The Moon was phasing into a destination with a schedule.

  11

  Tragedy Strikes Apollo

  It was a Friday evening in midwinter, 27 January 1967 to be exact. I left work early, at a little after six o’clock. It was my son Edward’s eighth birthday, and I wanted to get home in time for dinner with the family, to sing “Happy Birthday” to Ed as he blew out the candles. I turned on the car radio to the news and listened glumly as the reporter described the escalating fighting in Vietnam. The familiar road wound ahead in the darkness through the bare woods and farm fields approaching Huntington. A special bulletin snapped me out of the quiet reverie of an oft-repeated drive: “NASA reports that there has been a fire in an Apollo spacecraft under test at Kennedy Space Center!”

  No further details were forthcoming, but when I reached home my family was in front of the television and the children turned to me, the smaller ones shouting excitedly, “Daddy, there’s been a fire, and the astronauts were killed!”

  Poor Edward had to share his birthday attention with the TV while Joan and I kept one ear cocked for further details. As I watched our happy little boy smilingly devour a large slice of birthday cake, more grim accounts filtered through. Three astronauts were dead: Gus Grissom, Ed White, and Roger Chaffee, the prime crew for the first manned Apo
llo mission. Spacecraft 012 had been scheduled for launch into Earth orbit atop Saturn 1B 204 on 21 February 1967. The fire had occurred during a practice launch countdown at Launch Pad 34, with the crew inside the Apollo command module, mounted with its service module on the huge, but unfueled, Saturn 1B booster rocket. Few other details were available.

  The next morning I drove into work in the brilliant cold winter sunshine for an eight o’clock meeting with Tom Barnes to review advanced mission planning options. NASA was already thinking of upgrading the last few LMs for more ambitious lunar exploration, if the Saturn booster payload could be increased to permit LM to grow heavier. Once there it was hard to concentrate on advanced missions with the previous evening’s disaster still unfolding as we spoke. From Herb Grossman, Grumman’s Engineering manager at KSC, I learned further disturbing details. The fire had been very hot and fast moving. Pressure buildup within the command module burst its crew compartment structure open within thirty seconds after the first alarm from the crew, leaving the interior a charred ruin. The ground crew in the white room adjacent to the command module was initially blown back by the fireball emitted when the cabin burst, and lacking protective equipment, were retarded by the intense heat and smoke in their efforts to remove the boost protective cover hatch and open the outer ablative hatch and the inner metal hatch, which opened inward and were each secured by several mechanical latches. Some of the ground crew watched in horror as the surveillance TV camera trained on the spacecraft briefly showed Grissom and White at the window, futilely fumbling with the hatch while outlined in an ominous orange glow of flame. It took five and a half minutes after the alarm to get the hatches open, and by then nothing could be seen inside except impenetrable black smoke. The crew never had a chance to escape, but they had the awful knowledge of what was happening to them.1