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ORIGINAL PAGE

COLOR PHOTOGRAPH

"The Hammer and the Feather" (48" x 37 112 ", acrylic on masonite)

CopyrightO 1986 by Alan Bean. Used by permission.

Apollo 15 commander David R. Scott confirms Galileo's hypothesis that in the absence of air

resistance all objects fall with the same velocity. Ageologic hammer in Scott's right hand and

a falcon feather in his left hand reached the surface of the moon at the same time (see chapter

13). The demonstration was performed before the television camera on the lunar roving

vehicle, and no photographs were made.
W

ERENOMAN

AS GONE BEFORE

A History of Apollo Lunor Explorotion Missions
NASA SP-4214

W

^ERE NO MAN

HAS GONE DEFORE

A History of Apollo Lunar Exploration Missions

William David Compton

The NASA History Series

National Aeronautics and Space Administration NASA Office Management

Scientific and Technical Information Division

Washington, DC 1989
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Compton, William David.

Where no man has gone before.

(The NASA historical series) (NASA SP; 4214)

Supt. of Docs. no.: NAS 1.21:4214

1. Project Apollo (U.S.)—History. I. United

States. National Aeronautics and Space

Administration. Scientific and Technical

Information Division. II. Title, III. Series.

IV. Series: NASA SP; 4214.

TL789.8. U6A528 1989 919.9'104 88-600242

For sale by the Superintendent

of Documents, U.S. Government

Printing Office, Washington, DC 20402
PREFACE

The purpose of this book is only partly to record the engineering and scientific

accomplishments of the men and women who made it possible for a human

to step away from his home planet for the first time. It is primarily an attempt

to show how scientists interested in the moon and engineers interested in

landing people on the moon worked out their differences and conducted a program that was a major contribution to science as well as a stunning engineering

accomplishment.

When scientific requirements began to be imposed on manned space flight

operations, hardly any aspect was unaffected. The choice of landing sites, the

amount of scientific equipment that could be carried, and the weight of lunar

material that could be brought back all depended on the capabilities of the spacecraft and mission operations. These considerations limited the earliest missions

and constituted the challenge of the later ones.

President John F. Kennedy's decision to build the United States' space program around a manned lunar landing owed nothing to any scientific interest in

the moon. The primary dividend was to be national prestige, which had suffered

from the Soviet Union's early accomplishments in space. A second, equally important result of a manned lunar landing would be the creation of a national capability to operate in space for purposes that might not be foreseeable. Finally, Kennedy

felt the need for the country to set aside "business as usual" and commit itself

with dedication and discipline to a goal that was both difficult and worthwhile.

Kennedy had the assurance of those in the best position to know that it was

technologically possible to put a human on the moon within the decade. His political advisers, while stressing the many benefits (including science) that would

accrue from a strong space program, recognized at once that humans were the

key. If the Soviets sent men and women to the moon, no American robot, however sophisticated or important, would produce an equal impact on the world's

consciousness. Hence America's leadership in space would be asserted by landing humans on the moon.

This line of reasoning was convincing enough for most congressional leaders,

who would have to provide the money, and was accepted by a majority of Americans. But Apollo was conceived and developed in an era when the scientific community was emerging as a political force in the country. Scientific research was

becoming a big business in the late 1950s and early 1960s, sustained by

unprecedented financial support from the federal government. Science had constituted the major portion of NASA's early space program and was the rationale

for the space program in the first place; hence scientists considered space to be

their province. The investigations of the pioneer space scientists did not require

a human's presence; hence man had, in their view, no important role in space.

Since Apollo was not a scientific project, it was unnecessary; because it would

be expensive, it probably would be detrimental to the legitimate space program

already under way.

V
Where No Man Has Gone Before

In one respect the critics were right: Apollo was not primarily a scientific project. The engineers charged with accomplishing the lunar landing within the decade

had far too many problems to solve to give much thought to secondary matters—a

category to which they relegated scientific experiments. Some may have felt that

the landing itself was enough; the President had called for nothing more. Most

probably reasoned that someone else would specify what the astronauts would

do on the moon. For the engineers responsible for carrying it out, Apollo required

a strict ordering of priorities: be sure we can get the crew there and back; then

provide for other objectives. Risks abounded, and the glare of publicity surrounding Apollo made it certain that the loss of a single astronaut's life could imperil

the project's very existence.

Objections by the scientists had no effect on the nation's determination to carry

out the manned lunar landing. Science would, however, considerably affect the

conduct of the lunar missions that followed the first landing. By the time the project ended in December 1972, engineers and scientists had developed a mutual

respect and a commonality of aims. No one lamented more strongly than the

scientists—not, for the most part, the same ones who had objected so vigorously

to the program in the early days—the cancellation in 1970 of three planned lunar

exploration missions.

Apollo might have been considered complete when the crew of the spacecraft

Columbia came aboard the U.S.S. Hornet in the Pacific Ocean on July 24, 1969.

Indeed, for some years after President Kennedy proposed it, the first lunar landing was regarded as the objective of Apollo. Planning for manned space flights

to follow the lunar landing began in 1963 with studies on how the Apollo spacecraft could be modified to extend the duration of the missions and increase the

payload that could be carried to the moon. In 1965 a program called "Apollo Applications" emerged, which included long-duration earth-orbital flights as well as

lunar exploration. It would build and launch a few Apollo spacecraft and Saturn

rockets each year, sustaining the nation's manned space capability and producing useful information while the nation decided what the next major step in

manned space exploration would be.

By late 1967, however, it was clear that that decision would not come early,

and that post-Apollo programs other than lunar exploration required more

thought. An Office of Lunar Exploration Programs was opened in NASA Headquarters to direct the continued exploration of the moon under the Apollo banner, and the earth-orbital portion of Apollo Applications, which would evolve

into Skylab, was split off.*

The development of the spacecraft, rockets, and launch facilities necessary to

accomplish the primary goal of Apollo has been described in three prior volumes

in the NASA history series.** The story of the lunar spacecraft and the flight program up to the return of Apollo 11 is detailed in Chariots for Apollo. The present

*See W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab,

NASA SP-4208 (Washington, 1983).

"Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979); Roger E. Bilstein, Stages to Saturn:

A Technological History of the Apollo/Saturn Launch Vehicles, NASA SP-4206 (Washington, 1980); Charles

D. Benson and William Barnaby Faherty, Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch Facilities and Operations,

NASA SP-4204 (Washington, 1978).

vi
Preface

volume is both a parallel and a sequel to Chariots; it traces the development of

the Apollo science program from the earliest days and continues the history of

the Apollo program, laying major emphasis on the scientific exploration of the

moon conducted on the later flights, Apollo 12 through Apollo 17.

One issue of great concern to scientists and engineers alike was whether a

trained scientist should be included in the crew of the lunar module. If the point

of man in space was to make best use of the unique capabilities of humans, would

not manned space science require a professional scientist? Or were the intricacies and potential hazards of flying the spacecraft so great that only test pilots

could be trusted to lead the missions? Could one professional be sufficiently

trained in the other's skills to be an adequate surrogate? The qualifications of candidates for selection and training as astronauts, and the choice of crews for each

mission were points that were never really settled during Apollo and remained

a point of contention throughout the project.

Another issue concerned the scientific study of the samples returned from the

missions, which was complicated by the U.S. Public Health Service's insistence

on quarantining everything returned from the moon until it could be shown that

no exotic microorganisms had been accidentally imported. The Lunar Receiving

Laboratory and its role in the storage, dissemination, and preservation of the lunar

samples are important to the scientific story of Apollo.

Finally, this history must make a first cut at answering the following questions:

what have scientists made of the data produced by Apollo? Do we understand

more about the origin and history of the moon and the solar system as a result

of Apollo's six voyages? Any answers to these questions can only be provisional

since, like all scientific questions, they are subject to revision as new investigators apply new techniques to the samples. By the time this history was written,

scientists had reached consensus on very few answers to the questions that lunar

exploration hoped to clarify, but I have tried to summarize their tentative conclusions.

A program as complex as Apollo is not easily handled by a simple chronological account. In the early stages, from 1961 to roughly the end of 1966, the several

phases of the program had to be hammered out more or less independently and

many complex relationships had to be built. For those reasons I have organized

the early chapters of the book topically, the better to deal in some detail with

these early developments.

By early 1967 most of the separate elements were in place; then on January

27, 1967, the program was shaken to its foundations by the command module

fire that killed three astronauts in training for the first manned Apollo mission.

The fire was a watershed for Apollo, setting back operations by a year or more

while NASA and its contractors examined every detail of spacecraft design,

manufacture, and management. It had almost no negative effect on the science

program; in fact, lunar exploration probably benefited by the delay, which gave

some much-needed time to the development of the lunar surface instruments

and the lunar receiving laboratory. From the fire to the first lunar landing in July

1969, a basically chronological account of development is somewhat more

manageable.

The other accident in the Apollo program, the aborted Apollo 13 mission, was

deliberately mentioned only briefly in the main text. To have covered that flight

vii
Where No Man Has Gone Before

in detail, dramatic as it was, would have lengthened the story unacceptably; and

since other authors have dealt with it in detail (see n. 78, chapter 11), I decided

to treat the essentials of the accident, the management of the flight, and the results

of the investigation in appendix 8. The safe return of the crippled spacecraft and

its three crewmen is a monument to the skill and determination of hundreds of

dedicated individuals; the subsequent investigation was a masterly piece of

engineering detective work, lacking a "body"—the failed spacecraft itself—to provide clues; but space did not permit full treatment of the flight in all its aspects.

As for its impact on lunar science, Apollo 13 created a delay of a few months,

giving scientists a little breathing space, which they welcomed, to refine plans

for later missions. The loss of one load of lunar samples and the data from one

more set of surface experiments was of small importance in the end. More than

that was lost a few months later when two of the remaining six missions were

canceled.

In writing this history I was granted unrestricted access to the extensive

Historian's Source Files at the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center in Houston, to

the files in the History Office at NASA Headquarters, and to documents stored

at the various Federal Archives and Records Centers. To the extent possible within

the time constraints of my contract, participants reviewed my drafts and offered

comments. They also corrected factual errors where they found them. Their comments were given thoughtful consideration and incorporated into the history

whenever the documentation seemed to support them or when an insider's viewpoint yielded insights the historian cannot glean from the documents alone. The

interpretations of events here recorded, as well as any errors that remain, are

my responsibility.

I have tried to define fairly and accurately the arguments on both sides of the

scientific and technological issues that bore on the conduct of the Apollo exploration missions. I found it somewhat difficult to treat the opposition to the Apollo

program voiced by many prominent scientists. Of course the scientists who spoke

against Apollo and later criticized NASA's management of it were merely exercising their right to political expression. One reviewer who took exception to my

treatment noted that this was the only avenue open to the scientists, who were

put off by the engineers and had no choice but to "go public" with their objections, in the hope that political pressure would gain what their efforts within the

system had not. Nevertheless, their objections, usually based on the unspoken

assumption that purely scientific projects were entitled to privileged treatment,

often smacked of intellectual arrogance. More irritating still—even to an outsider—

few of those who criticized the project wanted to assume any responsibility for

managing it. On the whole the objectors preferred to remain outside, where they

could pursue their rewarding scientific careers while freely criticizing NASA—

often in ignorance of the political, operational, and cost restrictions within which

the space agency had to operate. Those scientists who made a commitment to

the program and stayed with it to the end, establishing close relationships with

mission planners and scaling their objectives to the capability of the system,

deserve more credit than they usually get for the ultimate scientific productivity

of Apollo.

The reader who suspects that I have a lingering bias in favor of Apollo's

engineers is probably correct. I would not dispute the scientists' assertion that

viu
Preface

the engineers in charge of Apollo often seemed to be throwing roadblocks in the

way of science. I suggest, however, that the engineers' reluctance to stretch the

missions as far and as soon as the scientists wanted grew out of a healthy respect

for the limitations of their equipment and procedures. However easy it may have

come to seem, landing on the moon and returning to earth was not a bit less

hazardous on the last mission than on the first. When lives are at risk, the line

between boldness and recklessness can seem narrow to those who carry the

responsibility. NASA and the nation paid the price of haste on January 28, 1986,

when the space shuttle Challenger and its crew of seven were lost 73 seconds after

launch.

One word about terminology. Throughout the text I have used generic terms

like "scientific community" as convenient shorthand, which may be misunderstood. Obviously no single, homogeneous "scientific community" exists now,

or ever did, and I use the term only to indicate the source of comments or criticisms. Terms like "manned space flight enthusiasts," "Headquarters officials,"

or "MSC engineers" only categorize the source of a comment and do not imply

that all persons in that category agreed with the statement or point of view thus

attributed.

W.D.C.

Houston, 1987

ix
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The onerous task of acquiring, sorting, and culling the Apollo documentation

at Johnson Space Center had been all but completed when I undertook this history. Chief among those responsible for acquiring these records and putting them

in order are James M. Grimwood, historian at JSC from 1962 to 1979, and the

late Sally D. Gates, editor and archivist in the JSC History Office until her death

in 1980.

By helping me learn to find my way through this morass while I worked on

an earlier project, Jim Grimwood and Sally Gates earned my lasting gratitude.

Similarly the staff of the Headquarters History Office—Monte D. Wright, director, Frank W. Anderson, Jr., assistant director, Carrie Karegeannes, editor, and

Lee D. Saegesser, archivist—provided moral support, critical evaluation, and substantial assistance in my early days. Sylvia D. Fries, who took over as director

in 1983, was no less helpful and encouraging on the present project than her

predecessor. In the later stages of research and writing I was fortunate to have

a sympathetic and helpful technical monitor in William E. Waldrip of the Management Analysis Office at JSC. Not only did he help in working with the NASA

bureaucracy; he also took a deep and genuine interest in the organization and

content of the book and offered perceptive comments while I was writing it.

Mrs. Sarah C. Arbuckle deserves mention for the hundreds of hours of tedious

labor she applied to preparing the computerized index to the Apollo files, which

was one of the tasks required by my contract. Although the results of her efforts

do not appear in this book, the index was of great help in research in the later

stages of its preparation. Researchers who use these files in the future will surely

be grateful for her work.

Captain Alan L. Bean, USN (Ret.), artist and former astronaut, generously

provided the frontispiece: a reproduction of his picture, "The Hammer and the

Feather," which depicts the demonstration performed by David R. Scott on Apollo

15. No photograph of this demonstration was taken on the moon; the only ones

available were taken from the television screen on which earth viewers saw it

performed.

Finally, my thanks go to the participants in Apollo who provided interviews

and criticized the manuscript.

PRECEDING PAGE BLANK NOT FILMED

xi

PAG1 ,r PITENTIONAUY ROAN-K
CONTENTS

Page

Preface .............................................................. v

Acknowledgments ................................................... xi

1 America Starts for the Moon: 1957-1963 .............................. 1

2 Linking Science to Manned Space Flight ............................. 13

3 Apollo's Lunar Exploration Plans ................................... 27

4 Handling Samples from the Moon .................................. 41

5 Selecting and Training the Crews ................................... 55

6 Mission and Science Planning: 1963-1966 ............................ 73

7 Setback and Recovery: 1967 ........................................ 91

8 Final Preparations: 1968 ........................................... 113

9 Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969 ............................... 135

10 Lunar Exploration Begins ......................................... 157

11 First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970 ............... 177

12 Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971 .......................... 201

13 Lunar Exploration Concluded ..................................... 225

14 Project Apollo: The Conclusion .................................... 255

Source Notes ....................................................... 271

Appendix

1 Organization Charts .............................................. 313

2 Apollo Funding History .......................................... 329

3 Lunar Exploration Planning, 1961-1967 ............................. 331

4 Chronology of Major Events in Manned Space Flight and in Project

Apollo, 1957-1975 .............................................. 349

5 Summary Data on Apollo Missions ................................ 361

6 Prime and Backup Crews, Support Crews, and Capsule Communicators

for Apollo Lunar Missions ...................................... 367

7 Crew Training and Simulations .................................... 382

8 The Flight of Apollo 13 ........................................... 386

Bibliographic Essay ................................................. 394

Index .............................................................. 403

The Author ........................................................ 413

PRECEDING PAGE SLANK NOT FILMED

xiii

I ^I I MTEN 1+ N AUT
1

AMERICA STARTS FOR THE MOON:

1957-1963

When the crew of Apollo 11 splashed down in the Pacific Ocean on July 24,

1969, Americans hailed the successful completion of the most audacious and complex technological undertaking of the 20th century: landing humans on the moon

and returning them safely to earth. Just over eight years before, when President

John F. Kennedy proposed the manned lunar landing as the focus of the United

States' space program, only one American—Lt. Comdr. Alan B. Shepard, Jr.—

had been into space, on a suborbital lob shot lasting 15 minutes. At the end of

the first lunar landing mission, American astronauts had logged more than 5,000

man-hours in space. To the extent that any single event could, the first successful lunar landing mission marked the National Aeronautics and Space Administration's development of the capability to explore space by whatever means were

appropriate for whatever purposes seemed to serve the national interest.

To many, Apollo 11 demonstrated that the United States had clearly won the

"space race" with the Soviet Union, which had been one of the space program's

major purposes. By the time that was done, other issues dominated the scene.

National interests were not the same in mid-1969 as they had been in 1961. Of

the public reaction after Apollo 11, a congressional historian has written,

The high drama of the first landing on the Moon was over. The players and

stagehands stood around waiting for more curtain calls, but the audience drifted

away.... The bloody carnage in Vietnam, the plight of the cities, the revolt

on the campuses, the monetary woes of budget deficits and inflation, plus a

widespread determination to reorder priorities pushed the manned space effort

lower in national support.'

Project Apollo encompassed more than simply sending men to the moon and

back. It reflected a determination to show that humans had an important role

to play in exploring space, as they had in exploring the unknown corners of the

earth in earlier centuries. That proposition was not universally accepted. From

the time the space agency determined to put humans into space, many Americans argued vigorously against manned space flight on the grounds that it was

unnecessary and inordinately expensive. Space scientists had already shown how

much could be done with instruments, and planners were designing spacecraft

that would revolutionize communications, weather forecasting, and observation

of the earth, all without requiring the presence of people in space.

These arguments were difficult to refute. Only when it came to exploring other

planets did humans seem superior. For all of their limitations, humans were far
Where No Man Has Gone Before

more flexible than the most sophisticated robot, capable—as preprogrammed

instruments were not—of responding creatively to the unexpected. If people had

a place in space exploration, surely it would be on the surface of the moon.

Man's place in space exploration was decided, however, on other grounds.

President Kennedy chose to send humans to the moon as a way of demonstrating the nation's technological prowess; and Congress and the nation endorsed

his choice. That demonstration made and the tools for lunar exploration developed, Americans would go back to the moon five times, to explore it for the benefit of science.

Organizing for Space Exploration

The Soviet Union's launch of the world's first man-made satellite (Sputnik) on

October 4, 1957, concentrated America's attention on its own fledgling space

efforts. Congress, alarmed by the perceived threat to American security and technological leadership, urged immediate and strong action; the President and his

advisers counseled more deliberate measures. Several months of debate produced

agreement that a new federal agency was needed to conduct all nonmilitary activity

in space. On July 29, 1958, President Dwight D. Eisenhower signed the National

Aeronautics and Space Act of 1958 establishing the National Aeronautics and

Space Administration (NASA).z

When it opened for business on October 1, 1958, NASA consisted mainly of

the four laboratories and some 8,000 employees of the government's 43-year-old

research agency in aeronautics, the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA).* Within a few months NASA acquired the Vanguard satellite project, along with its 150 researchers from the Naval Research Laboratory; plans

and funding for several space and planetary probes from the Army and the Air

Force; and the services of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL) outside Pasadena,

California, where scientists were planning an unmanned spacecraft (Ranger) that

would take close-up television pictures of the lunar surface before crashing into

the moon.'

Vanguard and JPL brought a strong scientific component into NASA's activities. Many of the Vanguard scientists became administrative and technical leaders

at NASA Headquarters and at its new space science center (Goddard Space Flight

Center**) at Greenbelt, Maryland. JPUs contributions to the space program would

be strongest in instrumented spacecraft for the planetary programs. It also shared

with Goddard major responsibility for development and operation of the tracking and telemetry network used in deep space operations, including Apollo.'

*NACA' s installations were Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory, Langley Field, Va., with

its subsidiary Pilotless Aircraft Research Station at Wallops Island, Va.; Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, Moffett Field, Calif.; Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory, Cleveland, Ohio; and the High-Speed

Flight Station at Edwards Air Force Base, Calif. Langley, Ames, and Lewis became "Research Centers"

under NASA, and the High-Speed Flight Station was renamed the Flight Research Center, later the

Hugh L. Dryden Flight Research Facility (honoring NASA's first Deputy Administrator and longtime Director of NACA, who died in 1965).

**Named in honor of the American pioneer of liquid-fueled rockets, Dr. Robert H. Goddard

(1882- 1945).
\merica Starts for the Moon: 1957-1963

These new acquisitions were grafted onto NACA, an organization that had

played a leading role in the development of aircraft technology since 1914. After

World War II, new aerodynamic and control problems had to be solved as the

demand for military aircraft to perform at greater speeds and higher altitudes

increased. By 1957 the X-15, one of a series of rocket-propelled piloted aircraft,

was on the drawing boards. It was intended to be capable of exceeding Mach

6 (six times the speed of sound) and of climbing beyond 107,000 meters (67

miles)—above nearly all the sensible atmosphere. NACA was, in fact, approaching the conditions of space flight by extension of the operational limits of manned

aircraft.

Other NACA engineers were working on other space-related problems. At

Langley's Pilotless Aircraft Research Division, aerodynamicists were acquiring

important data on aerodynamic heating at speeds of Mach 10, unattainable in

the wind tunnels of the time, by flying models of aircraft and missiles mounted

on rockets. 5 When Sputnik went up, many of these engineers were already talking about the problems of putting humans in an earth-orbiting spacecraft.'

The necessity for thinking about humans in space was made apparent when,

less than a month after Sputnik, the Soviets orbited Sputnik 11, a 500-kilogram

(1,100-pound) satellite carrying a living passenger—a dog named Laika. With this

clear evidence that the Russians intended to send men into space, both the Army

and the Air Force resurrected dormant schemes to follow suit. Neither could produce a credible mission for humans in space, and both lost out to the new space

agency in 1958, when President Eisenhower assigned all manned space flight

projects to NASA. ? Before NASA was a month old, Administrator T. Keith Glennan chartered a Space Task Group (STG) at Langley and charged it with managing the United States' first project to put man in space: Project Mercury. In 1961

STG was redesignated the Manned Spacecraft Center, a connotation of its newly

expanded responsibility for all manned projects, and located on 1,660 acres (6.5

square kilometers) of flat Texas pasture land 22 miles (35 kilometers) southeast

of downtown Houston.e

Crucial to any ambitious program in space was the ability to launch large

payloads into earth orbit and to send instrument payloads to the planets. Rockets

far exceeding the capacity of existing launch vehicles were required, but only one

was being seriously pursued. At the Army's Redstone Arsenal just outside Huntsville, Alabama, the Free World's most experienced rocket engineers—Wernher

von Braun and the team built around the hundred-odd Germans who developed

the V-2 rocket during World War II—were about to undertake construction of a

vehicle called Saturn I, five times as powerful as the biggest then available. By

1959, however, the Army had lost its last tenuous foothold on space flight and

had no use for Saturn—nor could it provide any other pioneering work for the

ambitious von Braun. On July 1, 1960, rocket development at Redstone Arsenal

followed some earlier Army space programs into NASA when von Braun and

4,600 employees, along with many of the facilities at Redstone, became the George

C. Marshall Space Flight Center.9

Thus by the end of 1960 NASA had the elements of a comprehensive space

program in place. Marshall Space Flight Center would design, test, and launch*

'Marshall maintained a subsidiary Launch Operations Directorate at the Air Force's Eastern Test
Where No Man Has Gone Before

the rockets and oversee their production by industry. The Manned Spacecraft

Center would manage spacecraft design and testing, conduct flight operations,

and train the astronauts. Goddard and JPL would be responsible for tracking,

communication, and data management. At Headquarters, a triumvirate comprising the Administrator, Deputy Administrator, and Associate Administrator

managed the overall program, determining policy, preparing budget requests,

and defending the program and the budgets before congressional committees.

Agency programs—science, manned space flight, advanced research—were

managed by directors of Headquarters program offices. The field centers reported

to the Associate Administrator, who coordinated the program offices and allocated resources to the centers.

Project Apollo: The Decision

During NASA's first two years, manned space flight managers struggled with

the problems of organizing extremely complex and technologically demanding

projects. The established space science programs continued to produce new data

on the earth and its space environment. President Eisenhower, among others,

favored continuing the productive (and comparatively inexpensive) unmanned

science programs and withholding judgment on manned programs. In his departing budget message to Congress, the retiring president noted that more work

would be needed "to establish whether there are any valid scientific [emphasis

added] reasons for extending manned spaceflight beyond the Mercury program. "10 In early 1961, a committee of scientists appointed by newly elected President John F. Kennedy recommended that "we should stop advertising Mercury as

our major objective in space activities [emphasis in the original]," and instead try

to "find effective means to make people appreciate the cultural, public service,

and military importance of space activities other than space travel." 11 So problemridden did Mercury seem that Kennedy's advisers felt the new president should

not endorse it and thereby risk being blamed for possible future failures; better,

the scientists believed, to emphasize the successful science and applications programs and the tangible benefits they could be expected to produce.

In spite of Mercury's early problems, manned space flight enthusiasts were

thinking far beyond manned earth-orbital flights. NASA's engineers were confident that they could send people to the moon and back. A moon flight was an

obvious goal for the manned programs. It would be an end in itself, needing no

justification in terms of its contribution to some larger goal, and it would demonstrate the nation's superiority in space technology to all the world. Preliminary

work and discussion during 1959 turned up no insurmountable obstacles, and

in mid-1960 NASA announced its intention to award contracts to study the feasibility of a manned lunar mission. The project even had a name: Apollo. On

October 25, study contracts were let to three aerospace firms.12

NASA might conduct studies to show that man could go to the moon, and

scientists might argue that manned space flight was of doubtful value, but ConRange at Cape Canaveral, Fla., which was made autonomous in 1962 as the Launch Operations Center

(renamed the John F. Kennedy Space Center in December 1963), responsible for final assembly,

checkout, and launching of manned space vehicles.

4
America Starts for the Moon: 1957-1963

gress and the president would have to make the commitment, and the decisive

stimulus was still lacking. Then on April 12, 1961, the Soviets once more spurred

a major advance in the American space program by sending Major Yuri A. Gagarin into space for one orbit of the earth. Congressional advocates of an all-out

effort to "beat the Russians" renewed their cries; influential media organs saw

a challenge to America's world leadership, as did many high government officials. President Kennedy called on Vice-President Lyndon Johnson, chairman of

the National Space Council, to survey the national space program and determine

what project promised dramatic results that would show the United States'

supremacy in space. Johnson immediately began consultations with NASA and

Defense Department officials and with key members of Congress.13

Kennedy's desire for "dramatic results" did not coincide with what others had

in mind for the space program—especially the scientists. Neither Eisenhower's

nor Kennedy's science advisers believed that any results from manned space flight

could compare with those expected from space science and applications programs.

During the debate on the creation of a space agency, the President's Science Advisory Committee (PSAC) issued an "Introduction to Outer Space," which asserted

that "scientific questions come first" and that "it is in these [i.e., scientific] terms

that we must measure the value of launching satellites and sending rockets into

space. "14 Eisenhower's chief scientific adviser, James R. Killian, former president

of Massachusetts Institute of Technology and chairman of PSAC, said after leaving his White House position in 1960 that the Soviets' space exploits were attempts

"to present spectacular accomplishments in space as an index of national

strength." He deplored the tendency to design American programs to match the

Soviet Union's and urged that the United States define its own objectives and

pursue them on its own schedule, not indulge in costly competition for prestige

in space exploration—by which he apparently meant manned space flight. "Many

thoughtful citizens," Killian said, "are convinced that the really exciting discoveries in space can be realized better by instruments than by man. " 15 His views

were shared by many scientists, including Jerome Wiesner, a member of PSAC

since its formation who became principal scientific adviser to John Kennedy. What

the scientists could not, or would not, recognize was that their excitement was

neither understood nor shared by any substantial majority of the people.

Some scientists, however, believed the space program should include elements

with strong public appeal. The Space Science Board of the National Academy

of Sciences,* NASA's officially designated source of scientific advice, discussed

the question of man in space early in 1961 and later that year adopted a position

paper on "Man's Role in the National Space Program." The board asserted that

the goal of the nation's space program should be the scientific exploration of the

moon and the planets but recognized that nontechnical factors were vital to public acceptance of a space program. Human exploration of the moon and planets

*The National Academy of Sciences is a private, nongovernmental body chartered in 1863 to promote

the advancement of science and to provide advice, when asked, to the government on scientific matters. Membership in the Academy is regarded as recognition of eminence in research and is the highest

honor an American scientist can be awarded short of the Nobel prize. See Daniel S. Greenberg, "The

National Academy of Sciences: Portrait of an Institution," Science 156 (1967): 222-29, 360-64, and 488-93.

In June 1958 the Academy created a Space Science Board to advise the government on the space science

program.
ORIGINAL: PACE

Where No Man Has Gone Before BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH

"I believe that this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of

landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to the earth...." President John F. Kennedy

issues the challenge of Apollo, May 25, 1961. Behind him, Vice-president Lyndon B. Johnson (left)

and House Speaker Sam Rayburn.

would be "potentially the greatest inspirational venture of this century and one

in which the world can share; inherent here are great and fundamental philosophical and spiritual values which find a response in man's questing spirit...." Thus

the space exploration program must be developed "on the premise that man will

be included. Failure to adopt ... this premise will inevitably prevent man's inclusion," presumably because of the costs involved. "From a scientific standpoint,"

the paper went on, "there seems little room for dissent that man's participation

in the exploration of the Moon and planets will be essential, if and when it becomes

technologically feasible to include him. " 16 This endorsement of man's participation in space exploration was at variance with a substantial body of opinion in

the American scientific community, as events of the next two years would show;

and the board's adduction of nonscientific values to justify manned space flight

would later draw pontifical rebuke from an influential scientific organization.17

On May 8, 1961, Lyndon Johnson's survey of the space program culminated

in a lengthy report drafted by NASA and Defense Department officials. The report

recommended strengthening the civilian space program in all areas. Particularly

pressing was the need for new and much more powerful launch vehicles. As for

the best way to put the nation ahead of the Soviets, the report chose a manned

lunar landing: "It is man, not mere machines, in space that captures the imagination of the world." However small its value in military or scientific terms, such

6
America Starts for the Moon: 1957-1963

a project would not only recover the country's lost prestige, it would stimulate

advances in every phase of space technology and give the nation the means to

explore space in whatever way best suited the circumstances. 18

With this strong endorsement of a lunar landing project, and after Alan

Shepard's successful suborbital Mercury flight on May 5, Kennedy put together

a message to Congress on "Urgent National Needs," which he delivered in person on May 25, 1961. While the speech covered many issues, its major impact

was on the space program. In it Kennedy expressed his belief that a manned lunar

landing, "before this decade is out," should be the principal goal of the American space effort. Stressing that this meant a long and costly development program to reestablish the nation's world leadership in technology, he cautioned

that "if we are to go only halfway, or reduce our sights in the face of difficulty ... it would be better not to go at all. "19 It was a call for the country to

commit itself wholeheartedly to a long-term project that required sustained effort,

substantial cost, and determination to see it through to a successful conclusion.

If congressional reaction was less than enthusiastic, as Kennedy is reported to

have felt afterwards, 20 events of the following summer proved that Congress was

solidly behind the venture. The supplemental budget request to get Apollo under

way—$675 million over Eisenhower's proposed $1.1 billion—carried both houses

with large majorities after little debate and suffered only minor reduction by the

House Appropriations Committee. 21 Congress and the nation were eager to see

Apollo succeed; but NASA engineers, while confident that it could be done, better understood the magnitude of the task. Robert R. Gilruth, head of the Space

Task Group, recalled later that he was simply aghast at what NASA was being

asked to do.22

Project Apollo: The Debate

Support for the Apollo commitment was not unanimous, either in Congress

or among the public. The public opposition most often questioned the wisdom

of spending so much money on space when so many domestic problems confronted the country. Those who spoke for science often shared this concern, but

their special objection was Apollo's distortion of priorities within the space program. One unidentified astronomer was reported to have complained to Senator

Paul Douglas of Illinois that the space program was becoming "an engineering

binge instead of a scientific project. " 23 Petulant as that comment may sound, it

epitomized what many space scientists most feared about the lunar landing project. Space science was a rapidly expanding field, offering almost limitless possibilities for exploitation by ambitious investigators. It had been generously

supported by NASA for three years and had produced a rich harvest of scientific

knowledge, much of it unfamiliar to the public. Manned space flight, merely

because of man's participation, drew attention that gave it prominence far out

of proportion to its scientific value. The pioneers of space science were what one

historian has called "sky scientists"—mainly astronomers and physicists interested

in studying the sun and stars and particles, fields, and radiation in near-earth

space. 24 Sky scientists could well have believed that their projects would suffer

as lunar and planetary science gained support. Lunar science, which stood to

7
Where No Man Has Gone Before

gain the most from Apollo, counted only a few practitioners who did not yet have

the influence of the established space science programs.

American science generally was still riding a wave of public esteem and government subsidy that had begun in the early 1950s and had swelled again after Sputnik. Basing their arguments on the indisputable contributions made by scientists

to the war effort during World War II, American scientists had worked long and

hard after the war to convince the public and the Congress that America's standard of living and position in world affairs depended on a strong scientific base,

which in turn depended on generous funding of basic research. By the mid-1950s

government support of basic research had risen to a level that prewar researchers

could not have dreamed of. This new status had not been easily achieved and

often had to be defended; many congressmen would have preferred to support

practical projects rather than pure research, which often seemed pointless.

(Indeed, congressmen and journalists frequently enjoyed making fun of research

projects that had absurd-sounding titles, such as the reproductive physiology of

the screwworm fly. 25 ) But scientists had grown increasingly influential in governmental affairs. Prominent scientists found their counsel being sought more

and more frequently by government at all levels, and science had enough influential friends in and out of government to ensure the continuity of a substantial

level of support throughout the postwar years.26

Nonetheless, the most prominent and influential spokesmen for science seemed

to feel uneasy about the viability of their favored status. Their behavior was characterized by one critical observer of the science-government interaction as "not

unlike [that of] a nouveau riche in a fluctuating market." Every threat, real or

imagined, to reduce the support of science—or even to reduce its rate of growth—

was regarded as a potential catastrophe. 27 So the space scientists may have perceived Apollo as a threat. No one could accurately predict its ultimate cost—

estimates ranged upward from $20 billion—but it would be expensive enough

that Congress might trim other programs to provide its funds.

Scientists' misgivings about Apollo were expressed intramurally in the summer

of 1962 at the Space Science Board's first summer study of NASA's science programs. Convened at the request of NASA, the six-week summer study brought

together more than a hundred participants from universities and industry to evaluate NASA's past activities and recommend future policies and programs. The

final report of the study, noting that "there is considerable confusion about the

Apollo mission and its proper justifications," stated that Apollo was just what

Kennedy had said it was: a program to put America first in space, with no necessary commitment to science. Until the success of the lunar landing could be clearly

foreseen, Apollo was, and must be, an engineering effort, "and the engineers

must be protected in their ability to do their jobs." Scientific investigations would

be phased into the program later; still later, assuming intermediate success, "scientific investigations will become the primary goals." It was evident that these considerations were not well understood—and perhaps not accepted—by the scientific

community, for the report urged NASA to work harder to make them clear.28

This section of the report was addressed primarily to the scientific community

rather than to NASA, but whether it allayed any fears is debatable. If it did, events

of the following fall could well have raised stronger ones. In November, manned

space flight projects were severely cramped by lack of funds, and Brainerd Holmes,
America Starts for the Moon: 1957-1963

director of Headquarters's Office of Manned Space Flight, wanted to ask Congress for a $400-million supplemental appropriation to cover unanticipated costs.

NASA Administrator James Webb, unwilling to risk undermining congressional

support, did not agree. Holmes then proposed to transfer money to Apollo from

other NASA programs, including science, but again Webb refused. When the

question was taken to the White House, Webb told the President he would not

take responsibility for a program that subordinated all else to the lunar landing.

The extra funds could wait, he said, until NASA went to Congress with its fiscal

1964 budget. President Kennedy accepted this compromise. 29 Webb's stand for

a balanced program should have surprised no one, for both he and his Deputy

Administrator, Dr. Hugh L. Dryden, had repeatedly stated their view that the

lunar landing was not in itself the ultimate goal of the space program; it was a

project which, to be successful, required the advancement of space technology

and science on a broad front.30

Webb went to Capitol Hill in March 1963 asking for $5.712 billion—$2.012 billion

more than the previous year's budget request. Nearly 80 percent of the increase

was for manned programs, but funding for space science was also substantially

raised, by 50 percent over the previous year's budget. 31 For the first time NASA

met significant resistance to its presentation. The sudden drastic increase in the

total budget (54 percent in one year), the growing awareness of the probable total

cost of Apollo (estimated at $20-$40 billion), and the increasing dissatisfaction

in the country with the administration's priorities all combined to raise opposition to the manned space program to a peak during the spring and summer of

1963.

As hearings on the administration's budget proceeded, the space program drew

fire from many sources. Retired President Eisenhower reiterated his conviction

that Apollo was not worth the tax burden it would create .31 The Senate Republican Policy Committee published a report questioning the Democratic administration's expenditures on space rather than on other urgent national needs. 33 Two

years before, Kennedy had warned that the cost would be high and that careful

consideration by Congress and the public was essential. It was useless to agree

that the country should bid for leadership in space, he had said, unless "we are

prepared to do the work and bear the burdens to make it successful." 34 Under

the pressure of Soviet achievements, the commitment had been endorsed. When

the bills began to come due, the country was not so sure.

In the debate that spring and summer, many scientists spoke from their peculiar

point of view concerning the space program. On April 19 Philip H. Abelson, editor of Science,* summarized the case against Apollo in an editorial. It did not

deserve the priority it had been given in the space program, Abelson believed.

Its scientific value, small at best, would be even less if (as seemed likely) a trained

*Science, the weekly journal of the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS),

probably reaches more scientists in different disciplines than any other single scientific publication.

(In 1963, AAAS numbered about 76,000 members.) Besides publishing technical papers, Science provides news and analysis of many subjects of interest to the scientific community. Acerbic and outspoken, Abelson characterized himself as "a damned maverick" in testimony before the Senate space

committee later in the year.
Where No Man Has Gone Before

scientist was not sent on the first landing mission. More and better data could

be obtained by unmanned probes, at about one percent of the cost. In Abelson's

view, neither the military advantages nor the "technological fallout" cited by advocates could justify the cost of sending men to the moon.35

After Abelson's editorial, many other scientists expressed their reservations

concerning the space program, and a general debate ensued in the press. 36 Criticism focused on several points: the lunar landing program had almost no scientific value and science would be advanced much more by spending the same

money on unmanned projects; the space program lured promising young talent

away from other worthwhile research, creating an imbalance in the nation's overall

scientific effort; and the money spent on Apollo could be better invested in educational, social, and environmental programs. Some seemed to feel that Apollo had

been promoted as a scientific program and to resent the confusion in the public

mind. Hugh Dryden reminded the critics that "no one in NASA had ever said

[Apollo] was decided upon solely on the basis of its scientific content." 37 Other

scientists agreed with Dryden and expressed their acceptance of the lunar landing on its own terms.311

Senator Clinton P. Anderson, chairman of the Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, which was then considering NASA's authorization bill

for fiscal 1964, reacted to this debate by inviting several prominent scientists to

present their views to the committee. During two days of hearings, ten scientists

(including Philip Abelson, who was the first to be heard) ranged over most of

the ground covered in the public debate. If there was any general agreement,

it was that the time limit set for Apollo was probably conducive to waste, and

that many national problems deserved equal attention; but there was no agreement that American science was being skewed by so much attention to space.

The strongest protest against the program was a written statement provided by

Warren Weaver, vice-president of the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, who listed

many good things that could be bought with $30 billion*—a price he said was

"undoubtedly an underestimate"** of Apollo's ultimate cost.39

Senator Anderson got what he wanted from the scientists—a variety of views

that improved his perspective of the space program .40 The disapproving witnesses'

doubts were echoed in Congress. NASA's budget did not go through unscathed,

but the cuts actually made were less than some in Congress would have liked.

When the House approved NASA's authorization bill on August 1, support for

the space program was still strong: the majority was six to one. 41 After three more

months of debate and cuts totaling $612 million, NASA's appropriation ($5.1 billion) passed both houses by large majorities .42 Many opponents of expensive

*Thirty billion dollars, Weaver said, would give every teacher in the U.S. a 10 percent annual raise

for 10 years; give $10 million each to 200 small colleges; provide 7-year scholarships at $4,000 per

year to produce 50,000 new Ph.D. scientists and engineers; give $200 million each to 10 new medical

schools; build and endow complete universities for 53 underdeveloped nations; create 3 more Rockefeller Foundations; and leave $100 million over "for a program of informing the public about science."

**The official estimate provided to Congress in 1973 was $25.4 billion. House, Subcommittee on

Manned Space Flight of the Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1974 NASA Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 4567, 93/2, Part 2, p. 1271.

10
America Starts for the Moon: 1957-1963

manned space flight programs would express their objections over the next

decade, but Apollo would go forward, carrying—as some thought—the rest of

the space program with it.43

What might have been, if there had been no lunar landing project, can be (and

was) long debated. Over and over, advocates of the manned programs pointed

out the reality of the situation: the nation could afford whatever it valued enough

to pay for. Social welfare and other desirable programs had to win support on

their own merits and would not necessarily be given Apollo's $3 billion a year

if it were canceled. The politics of a technological project with a clear goal and

self-evident success or failure were much simpler than any plan to conquer poverty, rebuild the cities, or clean up the environment.

No proof is possible that space science (or science generally) would have been

better supported if Apollo had not been claiming such a large fraction of the space

budget. In fiscal 1964, when NASA's budget request first encountered serious

resistance in Congress, space science was authorized $617.5 million; its spending authority grew to $621.6 million and then to $664.9 million in the next two

fiscal years .44 (The entire Mercury project, from 1958 to 1966, cost about $400

million. 45 ) But manned space flight budgets were three to four times those

amounts, and Homer Newell, director of NASA's science programs for the first

nine years, would later recall that space scientists never hesitated "to complain

about not getting their fair share of the space budget." Newell, a space scientist

himself and as active an advocate as space science had, understood and accepted

the overall priorities of the space program, as the scientists apparently did not,

and they sometimes tried his patience. He would later remark that "whatever

complaint there might have been about either the absolute or relative level of the

space science budget ... , there can be little doubt that it represented a substantial program. 1146

Project Apollo: Prospects, 1963

Apollo survived the debate of 1963, as it would survive worse troubles later,

but the cut in NASA'S budget request (more than 10 percent) left its mark. The

following spring Administrator James Webb would not assure Congress, as he

had in the past, that he was confident the lunar landing would be accomplished

within the decade—only that it was possible, if everything went well.47

And much could yet go wrong. Spacecraft design and the basic mission operations plan had been settled and the major contracts had been let. Years of testing

and design refinement lay ahead. An entire project, Gemini, was still to be conducted, to establish the feasibility of rendezvous—bringing two spacecraft together

in orbit—on which the success of Apollo depended. In terms of technical milestones, the lunar landing was still a long way off. The science community had

registered its objections to Apollo, as had other concerned citizens, and the nation

had reaffirmed the commitment asked of it by its late president. Those same objections would continue to be voiced, but the lunar landing would remain the major

driving force behind the national space program.

One thing that could be clearly seen at the end of 1963 was that manned space

flight had an important interest in reaching some kind of accommodation with

11
Where No Man Has Gone Before

science. Over the next four years NASA officials and members of the science community worked to establish a program of scientific exploration that would become

the primary purpose of the later Apollo missions.

12
z

LINKING SCIENCE TO

MANNED SPACE FLIGHT

Scientific exploration of the moon required close cooperation between two quite

different organizations within the space agency. Space science was an active field

of research when NASA was created, with a well-organized constituency and

established procedures for generating and developing experiments. The Office

of Space Sciences, which managed these projects, relied heavily on scientists outside the agency for advice on policy and regarded itself as an operational arm

of the nation's scientific community, providing opportunities for that community to conduct the research it deemed important. The Office of Manned Space

Flight, on the other hand, had no interested constituency outside of the space

agency. Having been handed their primary assignment by the President in 1961,

engineers of the manned space flight organization reported to the NASA Administrator and to Congress on the progress of their projects.

To get these two offices working together on exploration of the moon was not

simple. Starting in 1962, Homer Newell, director of the Office of Space Sciences,

began to lay the organizational foundations on which eventual collaboration would

be built. The Office of Manned Space Flight, feeling the pressure of the Apollo

deadline, was at first reluctant to spend much time preparing for science. By the

end of 1963, however, much of the preliminary work had been done and the broad

outlines of a lunar science program were taking shape.

The Moon and the Space Science Program

NASA's initial space science programs were largely defined by the projects

transferred from other agencies and were mainly concerned with the study of

phenomena in near-earth space. But shortly after taking over direction of space

sciences, Homer Newell established a Theoretical Division to support programs

in planetology and lunar science.' Unlike space physicists and astronomers, those

interested in the moon and planets had little hard data to work with. Lunar and

planetary science in 1960 was a field for theoreticians, and few scientists devoted

their entire attention to it. So when Robert Jastrow, whom Newell appointed to

head the new division, set out to learn all he could about current theories and

research in that area, he had a very short list of sources to consult. High on the

list was the name of Harold C. Urey, professor at large at the University of California at San Diego.

13
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Urey, a chemist whose scientific career spanned four decades, had won the

Nobel Prize in chemistry in 1934. During the second World War he had directed

one of the major projects for concentrating uranium-235, the fissionable material

of the first atomic bomb. A scientist of catholic interests, Urey became fascinated

by the distribution of the chemical elements within the earth and in the solar system. Noting that there had been an extensive separation of iron from the rocky

materials of the earth and meteorites, he began to consider possible mechanisms

for the accretion of the planets out of the primordial matter of the solar system.

In 1952 he published a book on the origin of the planets, in which he asserted

his belief that the moon might provide the key to understanding the formation

of the solar system. On retiring from the University of Chicago in 1958 at age

65, he continued to teach and conduct research in California, devoting considerable time to cosmology.2

Urey brought a chemist's approach to a subject that had previously been the

province of astronomers and astrophysicists. Like almost any chemist of his era,

he would have preferred to have samples that he could study in the laboratory.

Lacking lunar samples, he used information from meteorites, plus such physical

data as were available concerning the moon, to construct working hypotheses.

When Apollo was created, Urey supported it for the contributions it could make

to his own research interests, but he was conscious of its nonscientific value as

well. In 1961 he thought that the lunar landing was too expensive for its potential scientific return, but on reflection he decided that if the money were not spent

on Apollo it might well go to less productive projects and changed his mind.3

Urey never failed to criticize NASA's practices when he felt criticism was justified, but on the whole he was a dependable supporter of the lunar landing

program.4

Impressed by Urey's exposition of his theories and the potential they held for

space investigation, Jastrow brought him to Headquarters to confer with Newell

about possible NASA programs for lunar exploration. Their enthusiasm convinced

Newell that space science should make room for a program in lunar and planetary sciences, and in January 1959 he appointed an ad hoc Working Group on

Lunar Exploration to coordinate the efforts of NASA and academic scientists and

to evaluate proposals for lunar experiments.5

Such interest as there was in lunar missions in early 1959 was at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL).* Even there, however, many scientists favored missions

to Venus and Mars rather than to the moon, partly because the best opportunities for launch to the near planets occurred less frequently. 6 The moon—in earth's

back yard, so to speak—offered an optimum launch opportunity once every lunar

month, and if one were missed because of problems with a launch vehicle the

delay was only four weeks, whereas a mission to Mars would have to wait two

years if an optimum launch date were missed. While JPL was developing a plan

for 12 deep-space missions, including 5 moon probes, Jastrow was urging Newell

to accelerate NASA's lunar exploration programs.

Once again, however, the Soviets' eagerness to achieve space "firsts" exerted

its pernicious influence on American space programs. Even before the Working

*JPL's director William Pickering had proposed an unmanned lunar probe as a response to Sputnik

but had found no support for it.

14
Linking Science to Manned Space Flight

Group for Lunar Exploration could finish drawing up a list of recommendations

for lunar missions, the Russian Luna I swung by the moon and into solar orbit,

measuring magnetic fields and particles in space. A month after JPL submitted

its plan to Headquarters on April 30, 1959, orders went out to Pasadena to reorient

the program to concentrate on lunar orbiting and soft-landing missions. (Apparently Headquarters felt that the more frequent opportunities for lunar missions

offered the best chance to beat the Russians to their apparent target.) As the year

progressed, the Soviets sent two more Luna spacecraft to the moon; one crashlanded, the other photographed the hidden side of the moon for the first time.

In December Headquarters killed JPL's planetary exploration plan, in part because

of problems with the proposed Atlas-Vega launch vehicle, and substituted a program of seven lunar missions using the Atlas-Agena B. Emphasis was on obtaining high-resolution photographs of the moon's surface, but some space science

instruments would be carried as well. JPL would also investigate the feasibility

of sending a hard-landing instrument package to transmit data about the moon.

This project, called "Ranger," was explicitly recognized as a high-risk project

geared to very short schedules and intended to capture the initiative in lunar exploration from the Soviet Union.'

Since lunar and planetary exploration seemed to have a promising future,

Homer Newell established a Lunar and Planetary Program Office at Headquarters in January 1960 to manage it. 8 Initially, Ranger was the the new office's only

lunar project. In July 1960 a second, Surveyor, was approved. More ambitious

than Ranger, Surveyor had the objective of soft-landing a large (2,500 pounds,

1,100 kilograms) instrumented spacecraft on the moon's surface to gather physical and chemical information about the lunar soil and return it to earth by

telemetry.9

Both Ranger and Surveyor were technically ambitious projects, requiring

improvements in spacecraft stabilization, navigation and guidance, and telemetry. Both encountered technical and management problems that pushed back their

completion dates to the point where rapidly changing events made their original

objectives obsolete. In 1960, neither Ranger nor Surveyor was primarily intended

to support the manned lunar landing, which at that time was still only an idea

in the minds of NASA's planners, although both, if successful, would yield information useful to that project. But the pressures generated by the needs of Apollo

between 1961 and 1963 forced Ranger and Surveyor into supporting roles for the

manned space flight program, to the intense chagrin of the space scientists.

Manned Space Flight and Science

When the engineers of Robert R. Gilruth's Space Task Group began work on

Project Mercury in 1958, they could not—as the space scientists could—draw on

10 years of experience in designing their spacecraft and conducting their missions.

Aviation experience was helpful in some aspects of manned space flight, but in

many others they faced new problems. Apollo posed many more. The engineers

did not lack confidence that the President's goal could be met, but they knew

only too well how much they had to learn to achieve it. A sense of urgency per15
Where No Man Has Gone Before

vaded the manned space flight program from the beginning right up to the return

of Apollo 11—an urgency that determined priorities for engineers at the centers.

Every ounce of effort went into rocket and spacecraft development and operations planning. Science was considerably farther down the list, and for the first

five years they gave it little thought.

Manned space flight projects were ruled by constraints that were less important to science projects. One was safety. Space flight was a risky business, obviously, but the risks had to be minimized. No matter that the astronauts themselves

(all experienced test pilots in the beginning, accustomed to taking risks) understood and accepted the risks. From the administrator down to the rank-and-file

engineer, everyone knew that the loss of an astronaut's life could mean indefinite

postponement of man's venture into space. Moreover, NASA was in a race, competing against a competent adversary and working in the public eye, where its

failures as well as its successes were immediately and widely publicized.

Reliability was one key to safety, and spacecraft engineers strove for reliability

by design and by testing. With few exceptions, critical systems—those that could

endanger mission success or crew safety if they failed—were duplicated. If redundancy was not feasible, systems were built with the best available parts under

strict quality control, and tested under simulated mission conditions to assure

reliability. 10 The measures taken to ensure reliability and safety contributed to

the fact that manned spacecraft invariably tended to grow heavier as they matured,

making weight control a continuing worry.

Those constraints were not so vital in the unmanned programs. Instruments

needed no life-support systems and required no protection from reentry heat;

scientific satellites were usually expendable. Being smaller than manned spacecraft, they required smaller and less expensive launch vehicles. Furthermore, those

vehicles could be less reliable. More science could be produced for the money

if experimenters would accept less than 100-percent success in launches, and space

scientists were content with this." The loss of a scientific payload, though serious to the investigators whose instruments were aboard, did not cost a life.

On the whole the engineers were content to go their way while the scientists

went theirs. But the scientists were not (see Chapter 1), and their protests seemed

to require a response. Manned space flight enthusiasts spoke of the superiority

of humans as scientific investigators and of the benefits to science that would

result from putting trained crews in space or on the moon to make scientific observations. No existing instrument, they said, could approach a human's innate ability to react to unexpected observations and change a preplanned experimental

program; if such an instrument could be built, it would be far more expensive

than putting people into space.12

This argument did not move the space scientists, most of whom worked in disciplines where human senses were useless in gathering the primary scientific data.

The role of a person in space science was not to make the observations but to

conceive the experiment, design the instruments to carry it out, and interpret

the results. 13 Cleverness in these aspects of investigation was the mark of eminence in scientific research. The early manned programs offered space scientists

no opportunities that could not be provided more cheaply by the unmanned

programs.

The relationship between the manned and unmanned programs—essentially

16
Linking Science to Manned Space Flight

one of independence—took quite a different turn with the Apollo decision. Within

two weeks of President Kennedy's proposal to Congress, NASA Deputy Administrator Hugh L. Dryden told the Senate space committee that Apollo planners

would have to draw heavily on the unmanned lunar programs for information

about the lunar surface. Knowledge of lunar topography and the physical characteristics of the surface layer was vital to the design of a lunar landing craft. Ranger

was the only active project that could obtain this information, and to provide it,

NASA asked Congress for funds to support four additional Ranger missions. The

day after Dryden testified, NASA Headquarters directed the Jet Propulsion Laboratory to examine how to reorient Ranger to satisfy Apollo's needs.14

This directive was received with mixed feelings by the participants in Ranger.

JPL's project managers favored a narrower focus, because the scientific experiments were giving them technical headaches that threatened project schedules.

They proposed to equip the four new Rangers with high-resolution television

cameras and to leave off the science experiments, using the payload space to

add systems that would improve the reliability of the spacecraft. Scientists who

had experiments on the Ranger spacecraft, however, were upset by the proposed

change. When they complained to Newell, he and his Lunar and Planetary Programs director reasserted the primacy of science in Ranger and did everything

they could to keep the experiments on all the flights. But the difficulties with

the Ranger hardware and the pressure of schedules proved too much. In the end,

the problem-plagued Ranger carried no space science experiments on its successful

flights, but did return photographs showing lunar craters and surface debris less

than a meter across. *ls

Apollo could command enough influence to affect the unmanned lunar programs, but science had no such leverage on manned flights. For that matter, scientists had little interest in Mercury; its cramped spacecraft and severe weight limits,

plus the short duration of its flights, made it unattractive to most experimenters.

Still, the Mercury astronauts conducted a few scientific exercises, mostly visual

and photographic observations of astronomical phenomena. 16 Comparatively

unimportant in themselves, these experiments pointed up the need for close coordination between the scientists (and the Office of Space Sciences) and the manned

space flight engineers. After John Glenn's first three-orbit flight on February 28,

1962, the Office of Space Sciences and the Office of Manned Space Flight began

to look toward the moon and what humans should and could do there."

Apollo managers had spent the second half of 1961 making the critical decisions about launch vehicle and spacecraft design; in the spring of 1962 they were

wrestling with the question of mission mode. Should they plan to go directly

from earth to the moon, landing the whole crew along with the return vehicle

and all its fuel on the lunar surface? Or would it be better to assemble the lunar

vehicle in earth orbit—which would require smaller launch vehicles but would

entail closely spaced multiple launches, rendezvous of spacecraft and lunar rocket,

and the unexplored problems of transferring fuel in zero gravity from earthorbiting tankers to the lunar booster? Or was the third possible method, lunar-

*Ranger's results came too late (1964-1966) to affect the design of the Apollo lunar module; they

did confirm that the designers' assumptions about the lunar surface were satisfactory and that the

lunar module needed no modification.

17
Where No Man Has Gone Before

orbit rendezvous, preferable: building a separate landing craft to descend from

lunar orbit to the moon, leaving the earth-return vehicle circling the moon to await

their return?18 Apart from its essential impact on the booster rocket and spacecraft, the mission mode would determine how much scientific equipment could

be landed on the moon, how many men would land to deploy and operate it,

and how long they would be able to stay. Until the decision was made it was

pointless to try to design equipment, but by early 1962 the mission planners

needed to know in general terms what the scientists hoped to do on the moon

and some important questions of responsibility and authority had to be settled.

Coordinating Science and Apollo

The question of science on Apollo was far down the list of priorities in the Office

of Manned Space Flight during 1961, behind such overriding questions as the

choice of mission mode and the configuration of the launch vehicle. Elsewhere,

however, stirrings of scientists' interest in the lunar mission began to appear.

The director of MIT's Instrumentation Laboratory, which was designing the navigation system for Apollo, proposed that at least one Apollo crewman should be

a scientist, since the major interest in the moon would be scientific. Furthermore,

he said, it would be easier to train a scientist to pilot the spacecraft than to make a

scientist out of a test-pilot astronaut. 19 A similar suggestion was made by a group

of scientists working with the Lunar Exploration Committee of OSS, who asserted

that the scientist should be a geologist, or at least a scientist well versed in geology and geophysics. They further proposed that NASA begin to recruit astronaut

trainees from the ranks of professional scientists .20

That the Office of Manned Space Flight and the Office of Space Sciences would

have to coordinate their efforts became evident early in 1962. When Homer Newell

appeared before the Space Sciences Subcommittee of the House Committee on

Science and Astronautics to defend NASA's authorization request, he was pointedly questioned about the support his office was providing for Apollo. 21 This line

of questioning evidently perturbed Newell, for he subsequently wrote a personal

letter to the subcommittee chairman explaining that the specific information

needed by Apollo would become available through the normal course of lunar

scientific investigations. Newell acknowledged the importance of the lunar landing, but could not agree that concentrating on the immediate needs of Apollo's

engineers would best serve the overall space program. Newell's attitude gave

rise to a feeling, even within OSS, that "space sciences was rather unbending

in not getting scientific data which would assist the manned program," in the

words of a Langley official. Langley had proposed that future Ranger missions

should carry an experiment to measure the load-bearing capacity of lunar soil

intended to assist in the design of the Apollo lunar landing craft, but the proposal

had been rejected in favor of a purely scientific exercise in lunar seismometry.21

Newell, far from being indifferent to the needs of Apollo or unconscious of its

importance, was simply trying to conduct his programs in the best interests of

space science. Mindful of space scientists' increasing discontent over Apollo and

its effect on NASA's budgets, he was trying to avoid alienating his major constit18
Linking Science to Manned Space Flight

uency. As nearly as Newell could make it, the Office of Space Sciences was run

along lines that suited the scientific community. Advice on policy—the general

lines that OSS programs should follow—was provided by the Space Science Board

of the National Academy of Sciences and reflected the best consensus the space

science community could reach. The content of space science projects was determined (within rather broad limits) by the interests of individual investigators,

evaluated and endorsed by the Space Sciences Steering Committee and conducted

under the direction of the investigator who proposed it. No one in OSS would

have dreamed of telling scientists what experiments they should conduct with

the expectation of having their instructions followed or their advice appreciated.

Indeed, had anyone in OSS attempted to direct the course of a scientist's experiment, he would have brought down the wrath of the entire scientific community

on the space science program. The prerogative of individual scientists to explore

problems of their choice, with the endorsement of their scientific peers, is one

of the hallmarks of basic research, and probably the most jealously guarded.21

While Newell might have been able to find a way to supply the data Apollo

needed, he risked losing the confidence of the scientists in doing it. At a meeting

of OSS field directors in June 1962, Newell's director of Lunar and Planetary

Projects reiterated that "pure science experiments will provide the engineering

answers for Apollo. 1124

The issue was focused more sharply in mid-June, when Brainerd Holmes issued

a document specifying the information Apollo required: the radiation environment in cislunar space, the physical properties of lunar soil, and the topography

of the moon, including photos and maps to permit selection of a landing site.

All groups conducting lunar investigations were asked to give top priority to

obtaining the specified data .21 The curt wording of the document and its assumption of overriding importance for the lunar landing project were not calculated

to win friends in the space science programs, where managers had been struggling with the Jet Propulsion Laboratory over the same issue on Ranger and Surveyor. As events developed, it was JPL's director, William C. Pickering, who

forced the issue later in the summer by urging Associate Administrator Robert

C. Seamans, Jr., to seek an agreement between the Office of Space Sciences and

the Office of Manned Space Flight that would allow JPL to define Ranger's objectives more clearly. Pickering's inclination was to support Holmes, because the

science experiments were among Ranger's prime sources of difficulty.26

While unintentionally stirring up resentment on one front, the Office of Manned

Space Flight was more cooperatively seeking assistance on another. In March 1962

the Space Sciences Steering Committee, at OMSF's request, established an ad

hoc working group to recommend scientific tasks to be performed on the moon

by the Apollo crews. Not less important, the group would recommend a course

of scientific instruction for astronauts in training. Chaired by Charles P. Sonett

of the Lunar and Planetary Programs Office, the working group initially included

five members from the Office of Space Sciences and one from the Office of Manned

Space Flight; membership was later expanded to thirteen and a roster of some

dozen consultants was added.27

The Sonett committee first met on March 27, 1962, to hear William A. Lee,

assistant director for systems in OMSF, explain what his office wanted it to do.

19
Where No Man Has Gone Before

As the minutes of the meeting recorded it, Lee's approach was far from peremptory and demanding; rather, he explained,

the Office of Manned Space Flight now wants very much to have on Apollo

moon flights experiments which are of fundamental significance scientifically.

They would like the Working Group to consider these experiments without

constraints set in advance by OMSF. OMSF will attempt to tailor flights and

flight equipment to meet these needs. As examples, it is expected that the duration of stay on the moon may be largely determined by space science requirements and that if necessary, one or more members of the crew could be

professional scientists trained as test pilots.... They welcome suggestions

from the Group as to astronaut selection procedure with respect to scientific

background; OMSF will handle physiological and psychological factors in

astronaut selection.... Unmanned and earth-based scientific experiments

which tie in with or prepare for manned experiments will be undertaken by

OMSF as part of Apollo; suggestions by the Group are desired.28

At the committee's third meeting on April 17, Lee presented the engineering

guidelines to be considered by the group in proposing experiments. OMSF

expected to fly the first mission "before 1970" and subsequent missions at intervals of about six months. The mission mode, not yet selected, was not to be considered by the committee, nor were engineering and operational details of the

flights. Landing sites would be chosen by manned space flight officials, but the

Sonett committee was encouraged to indicate the desirability of particular areas.

OMSF considered it "possible that one of the flight crew might be a professional

scientist trained to perform flight operations.... [But this] would significantly

complicate our selection and training program, and should not be done unnecessarily." Lee urged the committee to assume no additional constraints. Even if

some experiments required difficult engineering development, OMSF wanted the

committee to list them so that the requirements could be considered in designing

the Apollo spacecraft.29

The guidelines Lee provided stated that the Office of Manned Space Flight

would consider the committee's report "a major factor" in determining some

characteristics of the proposed missions. For example, the planned number of missions ("more than one but less than ten") and time to be spent on the lunar surface ("between 4 and 24 hours") might be strongly influenced by scientific

considerations. If enough worthwhile scientific work could be done, "stays up

to 7 days are not impossible." Similarly the planned payload (100 to 200 pounds,

45 to 90 kilograms) might be increased and the mobility of the astronauts on the

surface might be extended, for example by providing a motorized vehicle and

tailoring the space suit for increased ease of manipulation, if the increased scientific return justified the added expense. A soft-landing unmanned supply vehicle carrying up to 30,000 pounds (13,600 kilograms) of support equipment and

supplies was under active consideration; this vehicle might carry additional heavy

or bulky scientific equipment.311

Lee's presentation indicated that the Office of Manned Space Flight was willing to be as accommodating as possible in providing for scientific exploration of

the lunar surface. But the qualifiers in Lee's guidelines suggest that OMSF left

itself many escape clauses that could have important effects on the scientific

program.

20
Linking Science to Manned Space Flight

With these guidelines in mind, the Sonett committee began to collect suggestions for lunar surface experiments. Their criteria, established early, were simple: experiments must be scientifically feasible and important, capable of being

performed only on the moon, significantly improved by having a human aboard,

and likely to lead to additional scientific and technological progress. Three basic

types of experiments were suggested: measurements and qualitative observations

to be made by the astronauts on the lunar surface; experiments to be performed

on samples selected and brought back by the crews; and instruments to be

emplaced by the astronauts and left on the moon to transmit data to earth.31

A point that seriously concerned the Sonett committee was the background

and training of the lunar explorers. As a basic requirement, the group suggested

sufficient scientific judgment and maturity to recognize and act appropriately upon

unexpected phenomena. They noted that scientist-astronauts might be caught

in a serious conflict between acquiring proficiency in spacecraft operation and

maintaining their skills in research32—a question that was to complicate relations

between the science community and NASA's operations experts for the next

10 years.

Sonett's committee submitted a draft report in early July 1962; its recommendations, considered in the following weeks by the first of NASA's Summer Studies

and endorsed by the external scientific community, would form the basis for the

initial planning of Apollo's lunar exploration program. Meanwhile, the committee's work, together with the controversy over the content of the Ranger missions, emphasized the desirability of continuous contact between the offices of

Space Sciences and Manned Space Flight on scientific matters. The experience

in developing the scientific exercises carried out by the Mercury astronauts showed

that overlapping responsibilities requiring close supervision would develop when

science went aboard manned spacecraft, and some kind of formal liaison needed

to be established.

Homer Newell moved to provide coordination in September 1962 when he

proposed to establish a Joint Working Group to replace the ad hoc arrangements

that were proving cumbersome. The basic tasks of this group would be to recommend to manned space flight planners a detailed program of scientific exploration, and to suggest to the Office of Space Sciences a program of data acquisition

to ensure that Apollo's needs were met. It would also keep the field centers and

outside scientists informed of the science programs planned for manned space

flight. In carrying out its functions, the group would have the implicit responsibility of assuring that NASA's interface with the scientific community remained

where it belonged—within the Office of Space Sciences—and to assure that each

program office's projects were maximally responsive to the interests of the other.

The group's chairman was to be assigned to OSS for administrative purposes

but functionally would be a member of both offices, reporting to the Lunar and

Planetary Programs Office in OSS and the Office of Systems Studies in OMSF.33

Newell would later remark that this official "had two bosses to try to satisfy, which

is universally recognized as unsatisfactory" 34; but no better alternative seemed

available.

To chair this Working Group, Newell appointed Eugene M. Shoemaker, a

geologist from the U.S. Geological Survey who had recently been assigned for

a one-year stint to NASA from the Survey's Astrogeology Branch. Shoemaker

21
Where No Man Has Gone Before

had received his doctorate from Princeton under Harry H. Hess, chairman of the

Space Science Board from 1962 to 1968 and an enthusiastic promoter of space

science. 35 Since October 1961 Shoemaker had been a co-investigator for the television experiment on Ranger. 36 Having been a space enthusiast since pre-Sputnik

days, he had consciously fashioned his professional career with an eye to becoming

a scientist-astronaut. 37 Although he never realized that ambition, for seven years

starting in 1962 he would contribute to the design of Apollo's lunar surface activities and help to train the men who would be his surrogates on the moon.

For the first several months Shoemaker's new job took him into a tangle of

uncharted responsibilities and unclear jurisdictions. At Headquarters, Newell's

Office of Space Sciences had asserted its responsibility for all of NASA's science,

manned or unmanned; in the opinion of many scientists in OSS, neither the Office

of Manned Space Flight nor the Manned Spacecraft Center had a staff qualified

to manage scientific experiments, but both were considering adding their own

science people. 38 Newell and his staff expected to plan and develop the manned

science program and to help select and train the astronauts. The Office of Manned

Space Flight, foreseeing the many complex interactions that such divided responsibility would require, felt that it was simply not feasible to allow anything—

even the science—to be managed by another office .39 When scientists showed

interest in the Mercury project, the Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC) had quickly

moved to establish a Mercury Scientific Experiments Panel to screen proposed

scientific observations and prevent any interference with the program's primary

purposes.41

Shoemaker spent much of 1962 devising a structure for the working group and

soliciting support from the centers .41 Toward the end of the year he recommended

to Newell that the group should comprise an executive board and two panels:

one on data requirements generated by OMSF, the other on scientific missions

recommended by OSS for manned space flight. The executive board would recommend projects to the respective directors (Holmes and Newell). 42 It would, however, neither initiate nor manage specific scientific projects .43

In the first months of 1963 Homer Newell moved steadily to bring manned space

science under his office's direction. He also began a campaign to persuade the

Manned Spacecraft Center that science was something more than a means of

acquiring the data required to design their spacecraft. 44 Shoemaker, who had been

urging MSC to start training astronauts in geology, had found a few receptive

minds at the Houston center—among them Max Faget, director of engineering

and development—who understood that "it wouldn't look very good if we went

to the moon and didn't have something to do when we got there. 1141 In late March,

Faget drafted a letter for MSC Director Robert R. Gilruth's signature, formally

requesting the U.S. Geological Survey to assign six of its scientists to the Houston center. Newell had paved the way for this cooperation in informal discussions with the Survey's director, who agreed to Gilruth's request. 46 Newell saw

no need to establish a geological competence in NASA, and both he and Shoemaker preferred to have the Geological Survey staff the Apollo science program

rather than geologists hired by MSC.

Meanwhile Newell and Holmes, anticipating a need for increased cooperation

as Project Gemini progressed, were negotiating a formal division of responsibility for manned science projects between their offices. Newell insisted that the

22
Linking Science to Manned Space Flight

Office of Space Sciences had the responsibility to solicit, select, and approve all

of NASA's scientific experiments; Holmes similarly asserted the Office of Manned

Space Flight's responsibility to approve any hardware that went into a manned

spacecraft and any procedure that affected the flight plan. Between the selection

of an experiment and its execution on a flight was a large area where responsibility for funding and management of design, fabrication, and integration into the

spacecraft of the scientific instruments had to be worked out.

After considerable negotiation, deputies for Newell and Holmes signed a

memorandum of agreement on July 25, 1963, spelling out the responsibilities of

their two offices. Planning and development of all manned space science projects

was assigned to the Office of Space Sciences, as well as any research and development necessary to support them. This meant that OSS would select the experiments and principal investigators and undertake preliminary development of the

necessary instruments, in consultation with the Office of Manned Space Flight

and the appropriate field center. OMSF agreed to develop and integrate flight

hardware and work the scientific objectives into mission plans, usually acting

through the Manned Spacecraft Center. OSS took on the job of formulating a

science training program for the astronauts, which OMSF would conduct.

Newell's office would also establish the scientific qualifications for scientistastronauts (though none had yet been selected) and would participate in selection of scientists for astronaut training. Each office would budget the funds for

its part of experiment development. Fabrication, testing, and installation of the

flight instruments would be supervised by the same team that monitored its design

and early development. 47 This agreement proved to be about as workable an

arrangement as possible, given the division of responsibility inherent in the Headquarters organization. With minor changes, it governed OSS-OMSF relations in

manned space science throughout the Apollo program.

While the new agreement was being worked out, Newell reorganized

Shoemaker's working group as the Manned Space Science Division on July 30,

1963. The new division reported to both program offices as before, but at a higher

level, and it would be the focus of OSS's management of manned science experiments. Shoemaker, however, did not stay to direct the lunar science program

from this position. When his tour of duty with NASA ended in November 1963

he returned to the Geological Survey to continue his work with Ranger and Surveyor. He was succeeded by Willis B. Foster, who had served in the Pentagon

as Deputy Assistant Director for Research in the Directorate of Defense Research

and Engineering.48

Reorganizing Around Apollo

The establishment of the Manned Space Sciences Division coincided with a

major reorganization of Headquarters. From 1961 to November 1963 the field

centers reported to the Associate Administrator but might be conducting projects

under the authority of any or all of the Headquarters program offices. Under the

new organization each center reported to one of three program offices, the heads

of which were now designated Associate Administrators for Manned Space Flight,

23
Where No Man Has Gone Before

for Space Science and Applications,* and for Advanced Research and Technology. This change greatly simplified the lines of authority between the program

offices and the centers, as well as freeing NASA's three top managers to attend

to matters of broader concern. The greater autonomy of the program offices, however, tended to make them more self-sufficient and parochial and to make

interoffice cooperation more cumbersome.49

In September 1963 Brainerd Holmes, who had steered the lunar landing program

through some of its most critical decisions, left NASA to return to private industry. His replacement was George E. Mueller. Headquarters scientists did not know

what to expect from the new chief of manned space flight, but they could hardly

anticipate less consideration than Holmes had given their projects. One historian

has characterized Holmes as "masterful, abrasive, and determined to get what

he needed to carry out his assignment, even at the expense of other programs. ­10

Considering the state of the manned space flight organization when Holmes took

charge and the development problems that had to be solved to put men on the

moon by 1970, it is hardly surprising that he gave science such a low priority;

but the science community was not inclined to accept that as an excuse for his

indifference to their suggestions.

Mueller, like Holmes, was an electrical engineer. He had managed Air Force

missile and space development projects for Space Technology Laboratories, Inc.,

for five years before joining NASA. But he also held a Ph.D. in physics, and his

experience included several years of teaching and research at Ohio State University; 51 it was at least conceivable that his attitude toward science might be different from Holmes's. No less committed than Holmes to the success of Apollo and

no less determined to have his own way, 52 Mueller came to Washington about

the time the public debates concerning Apollo and the space science program

had subsided (see Chapter 1), so he was in a position to see that it would be politically advantageous to accommodate the scientists if he could.

Mueller moved quickly to reorganize his office and strengthen its lines of

communication with the centers. He also brought in several high-ranking Air Force

officers familiar with his management style to fill key positions in OMSF. One

of Mueller's first priorities was to evaluate the general health of the Apollo project. He detailed two experienced Headquarters officials to study the progress of

its components and estimate its chances for success by 1970. After surveying current plans in light of recent progress and anticipated funding, they reported that

in their judgment the project had about one chance in ten of meeting its stated

goal. Mueller then imposed some drastic changes on the Saturn program: he canceled the scheduled earth-orbital test flights of the Apollo spacecraft on the

Saturn I and ordered that the Saturn V be tested "all up"—with all stages and

systems complete and functioning from the first test flight—rather than proving

each stage's readiness separately. 53 Then, while the centers adjusted to their new

boss's ways, he turned his attention to the science program.

Mueller believed that his office had to have ultimate control over every part

of every manned space program, including the science experiments; and by the

*Newell's responsibilities were extended to encompass the space applications program (communications, weather, and navigation projects), which since 1961 had been managed by the Office of Applications (abolished in the reorganization).

24
Linking Science to Manned Space Flight

end of the year he had decided to set up a Manned Space Flight Experiments

Board (MSFEB) to review all experiments proposed for manned missions. The

board's charter established four categories of experiments (scientific, technological, medical, and Department of Defense*) and the channels through which they

were to be submitted. Assessment of the scientific merit of a proposed experiment was left to the sponsoring agency. The board would assess the operational

feasibility of each proposal by referring the experiment plans to the appropriate

field center (usually MSC) for review. In case the board could not agree on whether

to fly any particular experiment, Mueller, as chairman, could make the final decision. Experiments accepted by the MSFEB and assigned a priority comprised a

list from which those to be flown on a particular mission were to be taken. Mueller

assigned responsibility for developing the flight hardware for each experiment

to the field center involved (again, normally MSC), which appointed a technical

monitor to work with the experiment's principal investigator in developing the

flight-qualified instrument.14

Not everyone was happy with the new experiments board; some space science

officials protested that Mueller was usurping their prerogatives to select and evaluate experiments .55 Experimenters complained that Mueller's system took too much

time and paperwork and unduly increased the cost of manned space science.

Nonetheless, Mueller had to ensure that a proposed experiment was compatible

with the spacecraft in all respects and that it could be carried out without interfering with mission operations. As long as OMSF was still learning how to get

people to the moon and back, science took second place when it came aboard at all.

1963: Progress and Prospects

As 1963 ended, manned space flight officials could look back at two and a half

years of intense activity and considerable progress. Project Mercury had flown

four earth-orbital missions, the last one remaining aloft for 34 hours. A new project, Gemini, was under way; its objectives were to explore some of the problems posed by the lunar landing mission, especially rendezvous. 56 Apollo

managers had made several critical decisions, including the choice of lunar-orbit

rendezvous, the basic design of the two lunar spacecraft, and the configuration

of the three-stage Saturn V lunar launch vehicle. Nine of the 12 men who would

ultimately walk on the moon were in training for their part in the program. A

new NASA Administrator, James E. Webb, had taken control, and the agency

had been restructured for better support of Apollo. The new president, Lyndon

Baines Johnson, had more experience with the space program than any other politician in Washington and would remain committed to it despite severe criticism

and unforeseen tragedy.

*For the involvement of DoD in the early manned space flight programs, see Barton C. Hacker

and James M. Grimwood, On the Shoulders of Titans: A History of Project Gemini, NASA SP-4203

(Washington, 1977), pp. 117-22, and W. Fred Boone, "NASA Office of Defense Affairs: The First

Five Years," NASA Historical Report HHR-32 (Washington, 1970).

25
Where No Man Has Gone Before

The dominant position Apollo occupied in the space program was indicated

by the changes imposed on Ranger and Surveyor in 1962 and 1963. Space science

officials tried hard to preserve the priority of science in both projects, but with

limited success. After thorough examination of the lunar exploration projects,

the Space Science and Space Vehicle Panels of the President's Science Advisory

Committee came down on the side of the Office of Manned Space Flight. In a

mid-October report they concluded that Ranger and Surveyor must be planned

so that the first few successful missions would provide the information engineers

needed to design the lunar landing craft, and that those projects' technical

management and funding should be integrated with Apollo's. Notwithstanding

that concession, the panels insisted that after the first couple of landings science

should determine the content of lunar missions and that the lunar surface activities must be planned with the full participation of the scientific community.57

Lunar science planning had begun, in the broadest sense, by the end of 1963,

but how much science could actually be done during Apollo was still a question.

Planners were contemplating as many as 10 lunar missions; what could be done

on each one would have to await events. If the first lunar landing attempt did

not succeed, and several attempts had to be made, science might have to wait.

As 1964 began, Headquarters was preparing to deal with the details of the lunar

missions: choosing landing sites, deciding what specific experiments would be

done on the moon, and selecting the experimenters.

26
3

APOLLO'S LUNAR EXPLORATION PLANS

The years from 1963 to 1966 were the busiest of the lunar landing project, no

less for science planners than for the spacecraft and rocket builders. After the

major decisions made in 1962 provided a basis for planning, the Office of Space

Sciences called on its academic advisory bodies to define first the broad outlines

of a program of lunar and planetary exploration, then more specific plans for the

moon, based on the clearer definition of the Apollo project that was emerging

during the period.

Scientific Interest in the Moon

In the two and a half centuries since Galileo first turned his crude telescope

on the moon, astronomers have mapped its surface features, measured the height

of its mountains and the depth of its craters, and calculated its size, mass, and

orbital parameters with increasing accuracy over the years. Even so, the best optical telescopes, under the best observing conditions, could not show any detail

smaller than about 300 meters across (1,000 feet, about the size of the capitol building in Washington); so information concerning the nature and texture of the surface was limited.

To the telescopic observer, the moon's surface shows two distinct types of

regions: 1. the maria (Latin = "seas"; singular mare)—dark, apparently smooth,

and roughly circular areas extending over hundreds of kilometers; and 2. the

highlands, mostly mountainous regions much lighter in color. Among the most

striking features are the craters—tens of thousands of circular depressions ranging in diameter from 180 miles (290 kilometers) down to the limit of telescopic

resolution. Most large craters have high walls and a depressed floor, and many

have a central peak or ridge. Some are centers from which streaks of light-colored

material (rays) extend for considerable distances. Besides the craters, the lunar

surface shows domes, ridges, and rilles—long, narrow channels resembling dry

watercourses—that run for several kilometers.' Measurements of reflected light

indicate that the lunar surface is covered with a layer of finely pulverized material. Airless and arid, the lunar surface is subjected to temperature changes of

more than 200°C (360 °F) during the course of a lunar day.z

For decades these features fascinated astronomers and cosmologists, who have

generated volumes of speculation as to the moon's origin and history. Three

hypotheses attracted adherents: one, that the moon was spun off from a molten

proto-earth; a second, that the moon was formed in a separate event and later

27
Where No Man Has Gone Before

THE MOON

The earth-facing side of the moon, depicted in an artist's rendition based on scientific findings.

North is at the top; east is to the right. Especially noticeable is the contrast between the dark, relatively

smooth areas (the "seas" or "maria"), mostly in the upper half of the picture, and the lighter, heavily

centered areas in the lower right. The large circular feature in the upper left quadrant is Mare

Imbrium, bounded on the southeastern edge by the Apennine Range and on the southwest by the

Carpathian Mountains. East of Mare Imbrium lies Mare Serenetatis, with the Taurus Mountains

on its eastern edge. Mare Tranquilitatis joins Mare Serenetatis on the southeast. The near-circular

area in the upper right is Mare Crisium; below it lies Mare Fecunditatis. Spreading irregularly over

the area west and south of center is Oceanus Procellarum. Two smaller maria, Mare Humorum and

Mare Nectaris, lie to the south and southeast.

The lighter-colored areas are marked by an abundance of craters, in contrast to the maria; this

has led scientists to believe that the maria are younger features, perhaps filled with lava. Lunar craters

range in size from hundreds of kilometers to less than a meter. Many of the larger ones have prominent

central peaks while others have relatively flat floors. A prominent crater visible here is Copernicus,

west-southwest of the center, from which streaks of light-colored material ("rays") extend into Mare

Imbrium. Farther west is Kepler, a rayed crater surrounded by a light-colored blanket. In the southwest quadrant, two prominent parallel rays point toward Tycho. Relatively inconspicuous in this

view, Tycho is a medium-sized crater with a central peak about one-fourth of the way from the bottom

of the photograph to the center.

28 ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Apollo's Lunar Exploration Plans

captured by the earth; and the third, that the earth and moon formed at about

the same time in the same region of space (this hypothesis was considered somewhat less likely than the first two). Those who believed the moon was formed

by accretion of smaller bodies generally supposed that during its evolution the

moon, like the earth, went through a molten stage in which its components were

chemically fractionated, with iron and nickel being separated from the rocky

minerals as the moon cooled. A smaller body of opinion held that the moon never

grew large enough to be completely melted by the heat generated as its component particles coalesced, and would not be chemically differentiated.3

All of these assumptions led to difficulties when examined in light of accepted

celestial mechanics. If the moon separated from the earth at some early stage in

its formation, its orbital plane should lie in the plane of the earth's equator, but

it does not. If, on the other hand, the moon was formed elsewhere in the solar

system, its capture by the earth would be highly improbable and its present orbit

difficult to account for. Finally, if the earth and moon were formed out of the

same primordial matter by any mechanism, it is hard to explain the fact that the

earth is nearly half again as dense as the moon .4

None of the hypotheses could be proved or disproved on the basis of the

evidence available from visual observation alone. Both led to logical conclusions

concerning the chemical composition and internal structure of the moon that could

not be tested. Scientists who held that the moon was once molten regarded the

maria as massive lava flows from volcanoes or fissures in the lunar crust, similar

to known examples on earth, and pointed to the domes and certain craters that

are much like well known terrestrial volcanic structures. Advocates of the "cold

moon" theory considered the maria to be the solidified remains of large bodies

of molten rock created by collision with meteorites or asteroids, or perhaps by

localized heating due to some other cause.-' The origin of lunar craters was a matter for debate. Some had undoubtedly been produced by impacts of cosmic debris,

but strong arguments could be made that others were volcanic in origin. It was

generally accepted that the moon's surface, unaffected by wind and water,

preserved a record of cosmic events which the earth must also have undergone;

on earth, however, the effects have been obliterated by erosion.'

Crucial to the confirmation of either hypothesis, or to the creation of an

alternative, was information that. could be obtained only by direct examination

of the moon. Analysis of samples of the lunar surface would show whether the

moon was chemically similar to the earth and whether the lunar material had

ever been extensively melted. Measurement of the flow of heat from the moon's

interior to the surface would show whether it was still cooling from a molten state.

Other important investigations included the seismic properties of the moon, which

could reveal its interior structure. Some of this information could be provided

by instruments, perhaps including remotely controlled samplers capable of returning lunar material to earth. But some tasks, such as examining the moon's surface and selecting samples on the basis of that examination, could better be done

by humans. With the advent of the space age, lunar scientists could look forward to sending instruments to the lunar surface; only after the decision to land

people on the moon could they hope to send a trained explorer.

29
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Planning for Lunar Exploration

Homer Newell set lunar exploration planning in motion in 1962 with the

appointment of the Sonett committee on Apollo scientific experiments and training (see Chapter 2). After three months of consultation with leading experts in

the scientific fields related to lunar exploration, the committee outlined its conception of the scope of Apollo lunar science. The primary objectives were examination of the lunar surface in the immediate area of the landed spacecraft, geologic

mapping of the landing area, investigation of the moon's interior by means of

emplaced instruments, studies of the lunar atmosphere, and radio astronomy from

the lunar surface.' No specific experiments were recommended, but the criteria

used in developing the objectives limited the possibilities. The experiments should

be scientifically important and feasible, possible only on the lunar surface and

only with a human on the mission, and likely to lead to further scientific and

technological development.'

A week after the Sonett committee issued its draft report, NASA committed

Apollo to lunar-orbit rendezvous. This decision, probably the most thoroughly

debated of the entire program, directly affected the scope of lunar science. The

mission mode determined how many men and how much equipment could be

landed on the moon. Whereas the other possible modes (direct ascent and earthorbit rendezvous) contemplated a single large spacecraft that would land with

its entire three-person crew on the moon, lunar-orbit rendezvous would put down

a separate specialized landing craft and a crew of two.9

With that decision made, Associate Administrator Robert C. Seamans, Jr., asked

Newell to present several questions to NASA's outside scientific advisers for discussion. What should be the preferred scientific objectives of the earliest lunar

landings? Would the acquisition of scientific data require more than two persons

on the moon at the same time? Were there sufficient scientific reasons to establish a semipermanent station on the moon for extended exploration? Advice on

these questions would be important in establishing policy with respect to lunar

science and could have direct influence on the design of the lunar landing craft.',,

An appropriate forum for such a discussion was already in session that

summer—the first summer study conducted by the Space Science Board, meeting on the campus of the State University of Iowa (see Chapter 2). Manned space

science programs were not the study's primary concern, but two working groups,

one on lunar and planetary exploration and one on the scientific role of humans

in space, provided opportunities to examine the plans for Apollo's experiments

and put some of the scientists' concerns on record."

At the start of the summer study the chairman of the Space Science Board, Lloyd

V. Berkner, instructed the participants that their advice on the existence of a

national space program and the division of effort among its projects was not

sought. Nonetheless, because of mounting fears for what it would do to NASA's

space science budget, Apollo was never far below the surface, and objections to

the manned programs were repeatedly voiced. Berkner, Newell, and others tried

to steer the discussions into more productive channels, such as how the capability being developed for Apollo might be exploited for scientific purposes; but many

30
Apollo's Lunar Exploration Plans

of the participants could not be dissuaded from protesting the priority assigned

to the lunar landing project. 12

Seamans's questions were aired, in substance at least, and the summer study's

final report contained recommendations concerning the points he had raised. The

working group on the scientific role of humans in space endorsed the findings

of the Sonett committee but recommended that experiments that only used the

moon as a base for observation (e.g., radio astronomy) be relegated to later missions. It found that there was indeed a valid scientific requirement for a lunar

surface laboratory for long-term investigations. The working group on lunar and

planetary exploration reached similar conclusions and called for increased emphasis in the Ranger and Surveyor programs on providing necessary engineering

information for Apollo .13

Of much more concern to the summer study participants was the scientific

competence of the men who would land on the moon. Acknowledging a continuing need for astronauts whose primary skills were in spacecraft operation,

the study report nonetheless urged the inclusion of a professional scientist among

the crew of the first lunar landing mission. To ensure that such a person would

be ready for the first landing, NASA should recruit qualified scientists at once

and begin training them as astronauts. The science community insisted that these

scientist-astronauts be given the means to maintain their scientific competence

while acquiring piloting skills. To that end, a space institute should be established

convenient to the astronaut training center, a facility "of the very highest scientific calibre [maintaining] liaison with major centers of research in the space

sciences [and functioning] as a graduate school offering advanced degrees in various fields of science." It should either be operated "under contract with a major

university" or administered by "that office of NASA responsible for scientific

research and planning, 1114 (i.e., the Office of Space Sciences). This "space university" proposal—which Newell later remarked never had the slightest chance of

being accepted by NASA15—was soon abandoned, but the demand for scientistastronauts was reiterated by the science community right down to the end of the

Apollo project.

With the modifications made by the Iowa summer study and with the

imprimatur of the National Academy of Sciences, the Sonett committee's recommendations formed the framework of Apollo's initial lunar science planning.

Shortly after its establishment in July 1963 the Manned Space Science Division

promulgated the first scientific guidelines for Apollo, which reflected this preparatory work. The primary scientific activity was to be the study of the moon itself.

First priority among the various lunar studies was given to geologic mapping,

followed by collection of samples for return to earth and emplacement of instruments to return data by telemetry .16

Headquarters-Center Relations in Science

While working out arrangements for cooperation with the Office of Manned

Space Flight, Newell and his staff also had to establish working relationships with

the Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC). In early 1963 MSC's only experience with

31
Where No Man Has Gone Before

science had been the visual and photographic experiments made on the first three

Mercury orbital missions." These somewhat hurriedly improvised "experiments"

produced some useful data, but mainly they served to show that people could

conduct scientific exercises in orbit. 18 They also showed that both scientists and

engineers had much to learn about each other's objectives and methods. One

result was that MSC acquired a reputation among space scientists of being at best

indifferent and at worst hostile toward scientific investigations. 19 Eugene Shoemaker, always an enthusiastic supporter of manned space flight, was "utterly

dismayed" by the attitude of the MSC representatives at the Iowa summer study:

"we don't need your help; don't bother us." This experience led Shoemaker to

agree to spend a year at NASA Headquarters to try to establish a lunar science

program; unless someone concentrated on that task, lunar science might never

get done at all, because "there was no planning for it [and] no program for it. "20

Some of MSC's indifference to science was the predictable consequence of the

formidable development tasks the center faced and its intense concentration in

1962 on learning to operate in space. But Newell felt that the Houston center's

engineers and managers (also engineers, for the most part) simply did not appreciate what space s,:ience and manned space flight could do for each other. Houston had no scientific research under way; the few scientists who worked there

were mostly inexperienced in research and served almost entirely in support roles,

providing data to the engineers. Newell spent considerable effort in 1963 trying

to create a more receptive attitude toward science at MSC. 21 One of Shoemaker's

first accomplishments after he came to Headquarters was to persuade MSC to

expand its small Space Environment Division, a branch of the Engineering and

Development Directorate that existed mainly to collect environmental data affecting the design of spacecraft and mission plans. One geologist joined the division

in 1963, and a team of specialists from the U.S. Geological Survey was assigned

later that same year. Their functions were to set up a research and training program in geology, develop a model of the lunar surface for use by the spacecraft

designers and mission planners, assist in the evaluation of lunar scientific instruments, and develop plans for geologic field work on the moon .22

Lunar surface science, though important, was only part of the larger question

of manned space science, and Newell, looking ahead to the earth-orbital flights

of Gemini and Apollo, wanted to establish a place for science on those missions

as well. The agreement worked out between Newell and Brainerd Holmes

for developing experiments called for the appropriate manned space flight

center (usually MSC) to oversee the development of experiment hardware once

the basic design had been worked out by the Office of Space Sciences. As OSS

saw it, this would require more scientific competence than the Houston center

had. Up to mid-1963 MSC's concern for experiments had been limited to assuring that they fit into the spacecraft and the flight plan and did not compromise

a mission, a task carried out by an Experiments Coordination Office in the Flight

Operations Division .23 Now, OSS saw a need to establish what would amount

to a space sciences division at Houston. Discussions with MSC produced agreement that the Space Environment Division would be the nucleus of the prospective science branch. 24

The Office of Space Sciences and the Manned Spacecraft Center spent the rest

of 1963 defining their relationship. Newell firmly maintained his office's respon32
Apollo's Lunar Exploration Plans

sibility for all of NASA's science programs, while MSC occasionally displayed

reluctance, to say the least, to accept direction from Headquarters .21 In the old

days of NACA the field laboratories had enjoyed considerable independence in

the conduct of their programs, and all of MSC's top managers were old NACA

hands. At times they seemed inclined to insist on running their programs their

way, including the science. But by the end of the year MSC had agreed in principle to set up a scientific program manager on Director Robert Gilruth's immediate staff, and Headquarters and center elements were beginning to work out a

description of that person's responsibilities .21

Lunar Surface Experiments

Early in 1964 the Office of Space Science and Applications (OSSA) began to

define the Apollo lunar science project more narrowly. Rather than issue a request

for experiment proposals to the scientific community at large, which was the usual

procedure for soliciting experiments, Newell and his manned space flight counterpart George Mueller agreed that initially a few selected scientists should be

called upon to identify the most important experiments within the areas agreed

on by the Sonett committee and the Iowa summer study. A representative of

Headquarters's Manned Space Science Division and the chairman of the Space

Science Board then compiled a list of experts who met on January 30 to begin

the process. 17 The first investigations agreed on by this planning group comprised

geology (field geology, petrography and mineralogy, and sample collection),

geochemistry, and geophysics (seismology, magnetic measurements, heat-flow

measurements, and gravity measurements). For each area the group suggested

several prominent scientists to work out detailed experiment plans. 28 In April the

first Apollo science planning teams, groups of experts in subdisciplines of the

earth sciences, began meeting to define more specifically the lunar surface experiments and instruments. Later, teams would be established for lunar atmospheric

studies and biosciences.29

At Houston, meanwhile, mission planners had started defining the lunar

landing mission in detail. In late 1963 the first set of operational ground rules

was established, listing mission objectives and constraints and identifying critical points where a flight might have to be aborted or diverted to an alternate mission in case of failure of some essential system. Using these ground rules and

the latest available weight and performance data for the launch vehicle and spacecraft, planners then prepared the "reference trajectory," a detailed description

of the mission from liftoff to splashdown.* For planning purposes the reference

trajectory listed 10 landing sites within a zone 85 miles (137 kilometers) wide and

1,480 miles (2,380 kilometers) long stretching along the equator on the moon's

*The reference trajectory was one of the most important mission planning documents. It enabled

flight planners to evaluate the effect of changes in spacecraft weight, propulsion capability, mission

requirements, etc., on every phase of the mission. An initial reference trajectory was often based

on many assumptions, but as test data and operational experience accumulated, the trajectory was

updated.

33
Where No Man Has Gone Before

visible side. It assumed that the lunar landing module would stay on the moon

for 24 hours.30

Science and mission planning came together in mid-June of 1964 when Houston

hosted a lunar landing symposium to give each group a look at the other's preliminary plans. MSC representatives presented their concepts of a lunar landing mission, described the two spacecraft and what they could be expected to carry to

and from the moon, and outlined the current astronaut training course. Members of the Apollo science planning teams sketched out their tentative plans for

surface activities and experiments. After four days of discussion, both groups

went home to refine their concepts.31

The June symposium defined the operational bounds within which the lunar

science planning teams had to work, and after five more months of deliberation

the planning teams' report went to the Office of Space Science and Applications.

Distributing the report for comment, Headquarters noted that its recommendations would eventually become the basis for a lunar exploration science program

definition document on which final instrument and experiment designs would

be based. First, however, OSSA was planning to have the report discussed at

another summer study, scheduled for 1965.32

As the planning teams saw it, the ultimate objective of the lunar science program

was simply the same as that of all science: to add to human knowledge. More

specifically, lunar studies could lead to a better understanding of the solar system and its origin, of primary forces that shaped the earth, and of geological

processes whose effects have been obscured on earth by erosion and other secondary processes not operating on the moon. (Making the obligatory gesture toward

practical results, the report mentioned that lunar studies "may have direct bearing towards more intelligent search for mineral resources on Earth," though it

did not specify how.) The larger objectives, however, could scarcely be met in

the short times the early Apollo missions would stay on the lunar surface. Really

productive lunar studies required more time on the moon, greater mobility for

the astronauts, and logistic support."

For the approved Apollo missions the planning teams stressed field work,

sampling, and emplacement of instruments, all planned to yield the maximum

information in the time available. Instruments relaying data by telemetry were

preferred for measurement of gravity, magnetism, magnetic phenomena, and seismic studies. The geochemistry and bioscience planning teams emphasized the

importance of bringing back the greatest possible weight of lunar material in the

form of carefully selected and documented samples for laboratory study. Eugene

Shoemaker's field geology team stressed visual observation and panoramic photography from the lunar module, followed by surface traverses during which the

astronauts would collect samples, emplace instruments, and describe the important geologic features of the landing area. Both the geology and geophysics teams

listed the tools and instruments that should be taken along, as well as preliminary estimates of weight, volume, power, and telemetry requirements. The report

included tentative operations plans for several lunar surface missions, taking into

account operational constraints and certain contingencies that might require

changing plans during the mission .34

With these recommendations in hand, Headquarters and MSC began making

plans for managing the experiments. In mid-January 1965 Houston's Space

34
Apollo's Lunar Exploration Plans

Environment Division appointed interim coordinators for lunar surface experiments. 35 At the end of the month manned space flight director George Mueller

conducted a program review at which he called for a series of studies to evaluate

several program management alternatives for Apollo science, from experiment

development to handling of lunar samples .31 Discussions between Headquarters

and MSC continued during the spring; Newell's Office of Space Science and

Applications continued to hope for the establishment of a separate science organization at Houston .17 Progress was slowed somewhat by OSSA's apparent difficulty in working out its internal lines of authority.38

In late February Newell and Mueller met to formulate policy for managing and

funding science experiments in manned space flight. An afternoon's discussion

produced agreement on a division of responsibility only slightly different from

that adopted by Newell and Brainerd Holmes two years earlier (see Chapter 2).

Newell's Office of Space Science and Applications would publicize the science

opportunities in the manned programs, solicit experiment proposals, and make

the initial selection. After further evaluation, which would include constructing

a "breadboard" model of the instrument to demonstrate its feasibility, OSSA

would select experiments and experimenters and arrange for construction of prototype instruments. Mueller's Office of Manned Space Flight would then develop

flight-qualified instruments, integrate them into the spacecraft, work the experiments into the flight plan, and collect the data produced in flight. OSSA would

arrange for distribution, analysis, and dissemination of the data. Deputies for

Newell and Mueller formalized details of this agreement later in the year.39

MSC and OSSA worked for several months on a procurement plan for Apollo's

lunar surface experiments, submitting it to Mueller in May 1965. Mueller decided

that a two-phase procurement was advisable, the first phase to better define the

instrument package and the second to build the instruments. Several contractors

would be selected to conduct the definition studies and one of them would be

picked to build the instrument package. 40 In June Houston sent out requests for

proposals to conduct six-month definition studies for a lunar surface experiments

package. Nine companies responded, and three * were selected in early August .41

Woods Hole and Falmouth Conferences, Summer 1965

In the summer of 1965 the Space Science Board again convened a conference

to consider NASA's plans for space research. The Iowa summer study three years

before had reviewed current programs and recommended changes of emphasis;

the 1965 study at Woods Hole, Massachusetts, was charged with recommending

directions and priorities for the next 10 to 20 years. The major topics considered

were lunar and planetary exploration, astronomy, and the role of humans in space

exploration.42

The Woods Hole conference report made many detailed recommendations in

individual areas of research. Space research, the study found, required the use

"Houston Division of Bendix Corp., Ann Arbor, Mich.; Space-General Corp., El Monte, Calif.; and

TRW Systems Corp., Redondo Beach, Calif.

35
Where No Man Has Gone Before

of ground-based observations as well as satellites, sounding rockets, and balloons.

Throughout, the report stressed balance: between manned and unmanned programs, between lunar and planetary exploration, and between ground-based

studies and research in space. The salient conclusions of the study were easily

summarized. Planetary exploration was judged to be the most rewarding scientific objective for the post-Apollo period, with Mars being the most interesting

target. Concerning humans in space, the participants agreed that "The distinction between manned and unmanned programs is an artificial one; scientific objectives should be the determining factors." But before people could be dispatched

on missions to the planets, "an orbiting research facility for the study of longterm effects of space flight is essential. "43

The 1965 conference was somewhat more sanguine than the 1962 study

concerning the role of humans in space science and somewhat more tolerant of

the Apollo program. The working group on the role of man noted that

Few ... scientists would attempt to justify the entire cost of developing

manned space flight solely on the basis of its "scientific value;" however, most

scientists would agree that this capability, when developed, should be utilized

for scientific purposes whenever it seems possible to do so.

The group did not concede that people could be replaced by instruments in every

imaginable case:

Manned intervention [in an unmanned system] increases reliability through

the possibility of extending the lifetime of spaceborne equipment almost

indefinitely by means of repair and replacement.... Man greatly increases

the flexibility of the system, for he can decide [how best] to use an instrument

[and] can make alterations or improvements in the instrument itself. Data transmission can ... be virtually eliminated for manned experiments, and the

design of an instrument can be simplified....

Not only that, but

if the presence of man in the system were already considered essential, the

scientist would assign many scientific tasks to man because of the greater reliability and flexibility he would bring to the system.44

On the question of selection and training of scientists for space missions, the

scientists were of much the same mind as those in 1962:

For some tasks—those requiring scientific insight—it would seem better to have

a scientist possessing judgment, experience, and imagination and to train him

as an astronaut to the extent required.

Again conceding that test pilots had the edge in some areas, the working group

nonetheless concluded that

the astronaut selection and training program [should] take into account progress in manned space flight. Successes so far[*] may be viewed as evidence

*Four successful manned flights had been made in the past three years, including two of the twoman Gemini spacecraft.

36
Apollo's Lunar Exploration Plans

that it may be possible to relax the present high physical standards at a pace

faster than has yet been contemplated .45

Concerning the lunar exploration program, the Woods Hole study report

confined itself to defining the major scientific questions in lunar exploration. Three

basic problems should be explored: structure and processes of the lunar interior,

the composition and structure of the moon's surface and the processes that have

modified it, and the sequence of events by which the moon has arrived at its present configuration. As guidelines for exploring these problems, the report listed

15 specific scientific questions that should direct lunar exploration, both manned

and unmanned (see Appendix 3).46

One question that assumed increasing importance as planetary exploration

became more realistic was the existence of life forms or their precursors on the

moon or the planets. The working group on biology concluded that the evolution of organisms or prebiotic materials was most likely to have occurred on Mars.

However, the group affirmed the necessity to avoid contaminating any celestial

body, including the moon, with terrestrial organisms or organic materials that

might invalidate later experiments attempting to detect life. As to the need for

protecting earth from biological contamination by material from the moon, the

group believed the hazards were small but that NASA should be safe rather than

sorry: "the consequences of misjudgment are potentially catastrophic.' 147 Opinion on this point was not unanimous throughout the conference, however, for

the working group on lunar exploration noted only a "minor possibility of finding prebiotic material, either buried or in sheltered locations. "48

The Woods Hole conference was, as far as Apollo was concerned, a policysetting meeting. When it adjourned, many of the participants stayed on at nearby

Falmouth for a two-week conference dealing with details of lunar exploration and

science on Apollo. The Falmouth conference elaborated on the previous year's

work of the Apollo lunar science planning teams in light of plans for manned

space flight for the 10 years following the first Apollo landing. As plans then stood,

the first few landings—the exact number was not certain—comprised the Apollo

program; it was assumed that these landings would be minimal missions to establish confidence in the Apollo systems. They were to be followed by flights using

improved spacecraft that could carry larger payloads and stay longer on the lunar

surface.* Ultimately, perhaps in the last few years of the post-Apollo period, a

lunar base might be available for scientific studies. Falmouth planners structured

their discussions around this idealized schedule.49

At Falmouth, members of the lunar science planning teams collaborated with

NASA and academic scientists to take the first steps in detailed scientific operations planning. As specifically as they could, disciplinary working groups laid

*In 1965 plans for manned space flight after Apollo were still in the formative stage. OMSF had

conducted several studies on "Apollo Extension Systems" to determine how far the propulsion, lifesupport, and electrical power systems on the Apollo spacecraft could be upgraded without major

redesign. These "extended Apollo" components would be used in missions—earth- and lunar-orbital

flights as well as lunar surface missions, lasting from 10 to 45 days—that would sustain the manned

program until the next major program could be defined. See W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson,

Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA SP-4208 (Washington, 1983), Chaps. 1, 3, and

5; also George Mueller's presentations to the House and Senate space committees in the NASA authorization hearings for fiscal 1966 and 1967.

37
Where No Man Has Gone Before

out their requirements for procedures and equipment. For the first time, an

astronaut in training described the mission's essential constraints from the

astronaut's point of view, stressing the limitations of space suits, life-support

equipment, and operational contingencies (such as an aborted landing). 50 For some

scientists this was the first time they had had to consider their own experiments

in the context of other scientific work and operational restrictions, and one participant reported a noticeable change in attitudes as the discussions progressed.51

In its final report the Falmouth conference summarized its recommendations

for the early landings, the "post-Apollo" (advanced) missions, and the more distant future when a lunar base could be contemplated (see Appendix 3). Highest

priority on the early landings was assigned to returning the greatest number and

variety of samples as feasible; emplacement of long-lived surface instruments was

next, followed by geologic exploration of the landing area by the astronauts. The

early missions could only sample isolated areas of the lunar surface. A survey

of the entire moon, plus detailed studies of the equatorial belt, should be the objective of later missions. These advanced missions, five or six landings flown at the

rate of one or two per year, should be supported by an unmanned logistics system that would land additional consumable supplies and scientific equipment.

Crews might stay as long as 14 days and explore as far as 15 kilometers (9 miles)

from the landing site. The additional equipment should include some analytical

instruments for on-the-spot discriminatory tests on lunar material, so that

astronauts could select a wider variety of samples. Surface transportation should

be provided—a wheeled vehicle with a range of 8 to 15 kilometers (5 to 9 miles) and

a flying vehicle that could carry 135 kilograms (300 pounds) of instruments from

point to point over a 15-kilometer range. With the flying unit, astronauts could

secure samples from otherwise inaccessible locations, such as a crater wall."

Falmouth provided the best scientific advice NASA could get at the time, and

its recommendations formed the basis for the earliest mission planning. It was

the first of several iterations of scientific planning that would take place during

the rest of the Apollo program. NASA would make every effort to carry out as

much of the program as could be done within a changing context of available

resources. Progress often seemed intolerably slow to some scientists, 53 but in the

end a gratifying proportion of the Falmouth recommendations would appear in

mission plans.

Site Selection: Ranger, Surveyor, Lunar Orbiter

The visible face of the moon offered scores of interesting sites for scientific exploration. As far back as 1961, Harold Urey, responding to a question from Homer

Newell, listed five general regions of high scientific interest: high latitudes, to

determine whether water might exist where temperature extremes were less

marked; two maria, to determine whether they were of different composition;

inside a large crater; near one of the great wrinkles in the maria; and in a mountainous area. Assuming that equatorial sites would draw the most attention anyway, Urey offered no suggestions concerning them. 54 Eugene Shoemaker noted

not long afterward that scientific objectives would be subordinate to operational

38
Apollo's Lunar Exploration Plans

requirements, at least on the early missions, and that the sites most operationally suitable for an Apollo landing—level, featureless maria, most likely—would

be the least suited to determination of geologic relationships. 55

Operations planning for the earliest Apollo missions was designed to assure

the safe return of the astronauts. The spacecraft, still attached to the Saturn upper

stage, would be inserted into an earth-circling "parking orbit" so that mission

control could verify that all systems were working properly. Lunar landings were

to be made in direct sunlight and at specific times of the lunar day chosen for

optimum visibility; return to earth must take place in daylight; and allowance

would be made for possible interference with communication caused by solar

activity. 56 These rules, along with constraints on the lunar orbit of the command

module, defined a landing zone along the moon's equator within which the first

mission would have to land.

Equally important for selecting a landing site was the nature of the lunar

surface—how much weight it could support and how many rocks and small craters

were present. For this purpose, high-resolution photographs of the lunar surface were required, which were to be supplied initially by the Ranger spacecraft

(see Chapter 2). To supplement Ranger's photographs and also to provide direct

information about the surface, a second unmanned spacecraft, Surveyor, would

be built. One version would soft-land on the moon and transmit scientific data

and television pictures; a second version would be an orbiter that would circle

the moon, photographing large portions of its surface. But when Apollo engineers

specified the detail required for their purposes, the Surveyor orbiter as then

defined could not meet them.57

To supply the high-resolution photographs needed to certify landing sites, both

OMSF and OSSA endorsed a new lunar-orbiting spacecraft. Preliminary studies

indicated that the project was feasible, and after briefly considering giving the

orbiter to the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, Headquarters officials decided to assign

it to Langley Research Center. By the end of August 1963 Langley had drawn

up specifications for the spacecraft and camera system and called for bids. Before

the year ended, project officials had selected the Boeing Company as the prime

contractor. Boeing proposed a solar-powered satellite, attitude-stabilized in three

axes, carrying a film camera system designed by the Eastman Kodak Company.

Film was to be developed aboard the spacecraft and the images were to be transmitted to earth by an optical scanning and telemetry system. Five photographic

missions were planned; the first Lunar Orbiter would be ready for flight less than

three years after the contract was let.58

In Ranger and Surveyor, the two projects that contributed most to early Apollo

site selection, the Manned Spacecraft Center had worked closely with the Jet

Propulsion Laboratory to coordinate Apollo's requirements with mission plans

(see Chapter 6). 59 As late as 1964, no single organization was responsible for collecting the data needed to evaluate Apollo landing sites and recommending the

final choice for each mission. 60 In mid-1965, acting on a recommendation from

39
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Bellcomm, Inc.,* George Mueller formally established an Apollo Site Selection

Board to evaluate and recommend landing sites for the Apollo missions. Chaired

by the Apollo program manager in the Office of Manned Space Flight, the board

would weigh all available scientific and operational considerations and recommend landing sites to Mueller.61

As planning for lunar science progressed during the middle 1960s, three key

issues emerged: management of the returned lunar samples, selecting and training astronauts for scientific exploration, and the choice of landing sites.

*Bellcomm, Inc., was a systems-engineering organization created in 1962 by the American Telephone & Telegraph Co. at NASA's request for the purpose of conducting independent analyses of

many aspects of the Apollo program. It employed about 500 people at peak strength (1969). In 1972,

its work for NASA completed, Bellcomm was merged with Bell Laboratories. J. O. Cappellari, Jr.,

"Where on the Moon? An Apollo Systems Engineering Problem," The Bell System Technical Journal

51 (5) (1972): 955.

40
4

HANDLING SAMPLES FROM THE MOON

The samples of rock and soil brought back from the moon would be a priceless

scientific resource, and for scientists to be able to extract the maximum information from them, the samples would have to be carefully protected. Minute traces

of earthborne contaminants could lead to completely erroneous interpretations

of laboratory results. In 1964 scientists at the Manned Spacecraft Center proposed

that NASA provide a laboratory in which lunar samples would be cataloged and

subjected to preliminary examination, so that the requirements of principal investigators for specific types of material could be met. There were, as well, certain

time-critical examinations that would have to be done as soon as possible after

the samples were returned to earth.

To provide for these requirements would have required only a modest facility.

But as plans for managing the samples developed, NASA came under pressure

from space biologists and the U.S. Public Health Service to protect the earth

against the introduction of alien microorganisms that might exist in lunar soil.

What would have been a small laboratory designed to protect lunar samples

against contamination grew into an elaborate, expensive quarantine facility that

greatly complicated operations on the early lunar landing missions.

Early Plans for Lunar Sample Management

Preliminary definitions of the lunar science program noted the importance of

laboratory studies on returned lunar material, but offered no suggestions as to

how samples should be collected and handled.' Neither within nor outside NASA

did anyone give serious thought to the details of preserving lunar samples in nearpristine condition until late 1963. Elbert A. King, Jr., and Donald A. Flory, two

geoscientists who joined MSC's Space Environment Division that year, were

among the first to propose action to protect valuable scientific information that

could be lost unless the lunar samples were handled under carefully controlled

conditions.

In February 1964 King and Flory put together a concept of a sample receiving

laboratory and forwarded it to Max Faget, director of engineering and development at the Manned Spacecraft Center. Their plan called for a small (100 square

feet, 9.5 square meters) laboratory in which sample containers could be opened

and their contents repackaged under high vacuum (one ten-millionth of

atmospheric pressure) for distribution to the scientists who would conduct most

of the studies. Remotely controlled manipulators would be used to carry out oper41
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ations within the chamber, which would be sterile, chemically clean, and used

for no other purpose.2

Faget recognized the importance of the proposed facility to the lunar science

program and encouraged King and Flory to expand their concept. The second

version of the "sample transfer facility" was considerably larger and more sophisticated. A 2,500-square-foot (232-square-meter) clean room contained several analytical instruments for performing preliminary tests on the samples. Within this

area was a high-vacuum system containing remote manipulators and a separate

sterile laboratory for biological testing. The vacuum chamber was equipped to

prepare mineralogical and petrological specimens as well as divide and repackage the samples. The atmosphere in the entire area would be closely monitored

so that subsequent investigators would know what contaminants might be present in their samples.'

These preliminary studies received considerable support in June 1964 when the

Apollo science planning teams (see Chapter 3) met at Houston. Both the

geochemistry and mineralogy-petrology teams emphasized the importance of controlling the environment in which the sample containers were first opened and

the need for extensive preliminary examination of the samples at the receiving

site.' After discussions with members of these teams, King and Flory reworked

their proposal and described an elaborate lunar sample laboratory. Projected at

more than 8,000 square feet (740 square meters) of floor space, their third concept included offices for 30 visiting scientists as well as laboratories for chemical

analysis, low-level short-lived radioactivity measurements, biological examination, and mineralogical and petrological preparations. This facility was not a mere

sample-receiving and -packaging laboratory, but the center for much of the preliminary scientific work that would be done on the lunar samples.' They presented

this concept to MSC's director, Bob Gilruth, on August 13. Gilruth approved,

and Faget set about preparing to-contract for design studies for it.6

MSC's plans required Headquarters approval and funding, and when Faget

explained the project Willis Foster's Manned Space Science Division reacted cautiously, to say the least. While agreeing in general terms with the concept, Foster

noted that it was a Headquarters responsibility and that the laboratory would

be only a "receiving laboratory." The detailed preliminary studies Houston was

proposing should be left to outside investigators. In response to Faget's request

for $300,000 to conduct the design study, Foster replied that he could allot only

$100,000. 7 In view of the alarm with which some of his people viewed the size

of the project MSC was proposing, Foster appointed an ad hoc group of Headquarters and MSC scientists to review it.'

The group's first meeting in early November was, from Houston's point of view,

disappointing. Few of the participants had given much thought to the requirements for a receiving laboratory, and the discussion was long and inconclusive.

The group's chairman seemed determined to keep the size and cost of the proposed lab to the absolute minimum. Most members seemed to feel that a facility

such as MSC was proposing would take much of the lunar science program out

of the hands of academic investigators. In spite of MSC's insistence that time

was short, the group adjourned without taking any useful action. 9 But the second meeting, a month later, produced enough progress that MSC's representative felt Houston could go ahead with initial engineering studies.10

42
Handling Samples from the Moon

While Foster's ad hoc group ruminated on the need for a receiving laboratory,

Homer Newell—probably sensing that it would entail a considerable increase in

the costs of lunar exploration—felt that an independent assessment by the scientific community was needed. Early in December he wrote to Harry H. Hess, chairman of the Space Science Board, requesting the board's judgment on the kinds

of analysis that should be performed on the lunar samples as soon as they were

returned, the facilities needed to do that work, and the staffing that would be

required." A five-man committee—three members of the Space Science Board

and two academic scientists—met in Washington on January 14, 1965, to discuss

Newell's questions and to confer with members of the ad hoc group.

Three weeks later Hess reported to Newell that a sample receiving laboratory

having a relatively restricted mission was indeed needed. The only critical examination was measurement of radioactivity induced in the lunar surface material

by cosmic-ray bombardment, which would have to be measured as soon as possible because it quickly dropped to a very low level. The committee raised a question that Newell had not put to it: its members foresaw a need to quarantine the

lunar samples until they proved biologically innocuous. A simple, general biological examination could be done at some existing Public Health Service or Army

installation. Without specific information or plans to comment on, the committee could give only rough estimates of staffing requirements and probable costs.

A minimal quarantine facility with a radiation-counting laboratory might be built

for $2.5 million; it would require between 12 and 30 professional scientists plus

a supporting staff.12

Hess's committee emphatically asserted that the studies MSC was proposing

should not be done in the receiving laboratory—or, for that matter, by any single

group, inside or outside government—but should be entrusted to the scientific

community at large. Neither did they see a compelling need to locate the laboratory at Houston, although "it may seem desirable that MSC have a part in the

activity by virtue of its Apollo role." If the Houston center could properly staff

such a laboratory, however, it might "add to the overall environment at MSC."

On the other hand, since the radiation-counting laboratory would have to be built

deep underground to shield it from natural radiation, the waterlogged soil of the

Texas coast might make construction more expensive there, and thus some other

site might be preferable. The committee also cautioned that such a laboratory

would have to operate continuously to conduct worthwhile research; it could not

be geared up to operate whenever a new set of samples was available and then

shut down until another lunar mission was flown, 13 which, they evidently suspected, was the way MSC was likely to operate the laboratory in light of its minimal scientific capability.

Manned Spacecraft Center officials, meanwhile, were anxious to get their

preliminary engineering studies under way. Preliminary studies, design studies,

contractor selection, and contract negotiations had to be disposed of as quickly

as possible. Cost estimates and justifications had to be prepared for inclusion in

the center's budget proposals for fiscal 1967, when construction would have to

start. According to early 1965 estimates, the laboratory would have to be operational by January 1969 to support the first lunar mission. Many critical and complex operations in the laboratory would have to be checked out beforehand, and

managers estimated that a 9- to 12-month shakedown would be needed.14

43
Where No Man Has Gone Before

The sense of urgency felt at MSC was not shared in Washington, however.

Faget wrote to Foster in mid-January 1965 urging him to release funds for preliminary engineering studies for the laboratory and suggesting that Headquarters'

ad hoc committee be replaced by a standing committee to oversee the incorporation of scientific requirements into the laboratory during construction. A month

later Foster replied that study funds could not be released until the ad hoc committee made its report. He concurred with Faget's desire for a standing committee and urged him to appoint one of his staff to it, pointing to the value of "a

greater understanding by MSC of the scientific objectives of the laboratory," which

would enhance Houston's chances of getting the facility. "Other NASA centers,"

Foster said, "are submitting 'bids' for the laboratory.""

For the next several weeks, MSC and Headquarters discussed management of

the laboratory, finally reaching an understanding as to future activity on the project. Foster would appoint a standing committee that would be given free access

to design reviews and relevant program materials, so that Headquarters could

be assured that the science requirements levied on the laboratory were being met.

At Faget's insistence, however, the committee would have no right to approve

plans; their advice would be made available through the committee chairman to

MSC's point of contact for the receiving laboratory. Except for the specialized

radiation-counting equipment, the cost of the laboratory would be included in

MSC's construction of facilities budget for fiscal 1967. 16 Some discrepancy still

existed between Headquarters's and Houston's cost estimates. Foster's office

seemed be thinking of a $1- to $2-million facility; the figure included in MSC's

preliminary 1967 budget was $6.5 million.17

The Specter of "Back-Contamination"

Houston's planning for the sample receiving laboratory was vastly complicated

the following summer by a question Hess's committee had emphasized in its

February report. They stated a clear requirement for quarantine of the lunar material until biologists could ascertain that it harbored no living organisms that might

threaten the earth's biosphere.18

The possibility that life exists or has existed elsewhere in the universe—even

within our solar system—evolved from a science-fiction fantasy to a serious scientific question within a few decades. Although no positive evidence has ever been

found to indicate that even the simplest living organisms exist elsewhere, a considerable accumulation of evidence that life might appear, under the right conditions, has led to a widespread conviction that it has appeared, somewhere. *19

*The argument runs roughly as follows. Simple organic molecules related to the substances out

of which living matter is made have been detected in space. Other organic material, possibly derived

from living organisms, has been found in meteorites. Conclusive experiments have shown that precursors to living matter can be built from chemically simple substances under conditions presumed to

have existed on the ancient earth. Given the vast number of galaxies observable in the universe (a

billion billion, according to one estimate) it seems probable that solar systems like our own exist somewhere in those galaxies, and that conditions favoring the origin of life exist on an appreciable number of planets similar to earth.

44
Handling Samples from the Moon

As early as 1960 the Space Science Board had advised that NASA and other

concerned government agencies (e.g., the Public Health Service) should establish an interagency committee on interplanetary quarantine to formulate a national

policy for handling spacecraft and material returned from other planets. 20 Two

years later, the working group on biology of the Iowa summer study (see Chapter 1) noted that

the introduction into the Earth's biosphere of destructive alien organisms could

be a disaster.... We can conceive of no more tragically ironic consequence

of our search for extraterrestrial life.

Acknowledging that scientists by no means unanimously agreed on the existence

of extraterrestrial life, the group nonetheless recommended that NASA employ

appropriate quarantine and other procedures ... when handling returned

samples, spacecraft, and astronauts [in order to] make the risk as small as possible.2'

These cautions had little effect on NASA's plans—in part because the danger

seemed remote in the early 1960s, but also because no one in the space agency

spoke for the life sciences.* 22 In the early days of space flight few biologists were

interested in the space environment; the frontiers of biology were on earth. The

life-science community created no demand for NASA support comparable to that

created by space physics and astronomy.23

As the Apollo program progressed, however, and the prospect of people returning from the moon with boxes of lunar rocks and soil became increasingly likely,

concerned biologists continued to call attention to the need for precautions against

contamination of the earth by organisms from the moon. On July 29, 1964, the

Space Science Board convened a conference of representatives from the Public

Health Service, the Department of Agriculture, the Fish and Wildlife Service, the

National Academy of Sciences, and NASA to assess the back-contamination problem and recommend courses of action. The conference concluded that

the existence of life on the moon or planets cannot ... rationally be precluded.

At the very least, present evidence is not inconsistent with its presence.... Negative data will not prove that extraterrestrial life does not exist; they will merely mean

that it has not been found [emphasis added]."*'

To contain any alien life forms, astronauts, spacecraft, and lunar materials coming back from the moon should be placed immediately in an isolation unit; the

*See Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, chap. 16 ( "Life Sciences: No Place in the Sun"). Of all the

life sciences, space medicine—the effects of the space environment on human physiology—was the

only one of prime concern to manned space flight; but it was only a subsidiary effort in Mercury

and Gemini and was concerned mainly with settling some crucial operational questions. See John

A. Pitts, The Human Factor: Biomedicine in the Manned Space Program to 1980, NASA SP-4213 (Washington, 1985).

**This statement is quite correct; experimental proof of a negative postulate, such as "life does not

exist on Mars," is, in any practical sense, impossible. But many must have felt like one anonymous

reader at MSC, who pencilled opposite the sentence in the margin of his copy of the report: "Like

witches."

45
Where No Man Has Gone Before

astronauts should be held in rigid quarantine for at least three weeks; and preliminary examination of the samples should be conducted behind "absolute biological barriers, under rigid bacterial and chemical isolation." NASA should

immediately take steps to work out the operational details of these procedures.14

When Harry Hess's committee, speaking for the Space Science Board, reported

its position on back-contamination the following February, both Headquarters

and the Manned Spacecraft Center realized that quarantine was a more serious

concern than they had anticipated. 25 Although the director of Biosciences Programs

in the Office of Space Science and Applications had kept in contact with the

National Academy of Sciences and the Public Health Service, the emphasis on

the possible dangers of lunar material came as a surprise to him .21 Most speculation about extraterrestrial life excluded the moon. At Houston, the report portended serious complications in the design of the receiving laboratory and probably

in flight operations as well, and Faget's organization took steps to clarify the

quarantine requirements. 27 Action at higher levels was slow in coming, however.

Only in May did the NASA Administrator and the Surgeon General (chief of the

Public Health Service [PHS]) discuss the matter, agreeing to set up an interagency

advisory committee to deal with back-contamination.21

By the end of July 1965, MSC had incorporated a general requirement for quarantine into its justification for building the receiving lab, but time was growing short

and detailed specifications were needed. Then-current plans required the laboratory to be in operation by January 1, 1969. Allowing a year or more for engineering and design studies, another six months for checking out the equipment and

procedures, and six months to correct deficiencies uncovered in the shakedown,

just over a year would be left to build the laboratory and install the special scientific equipment. Procedures and space requirements for quarantine had to be settled as soon as possible. MSC already had an outside engineering firm working

on a preliminary engineering survey, which would define the laboratory's special requirements and determine what additional studies might be needed to

specify its specialized scientific equipment .29

Others at MSC were working to formulate a center policy on quarantine in the

hope that it could be simplified as much as possible. In late July, Headquarters

arranged for an informal meeting of PHS and manned space flight representatives to discuss quarantine and the lunar sample receiving laboratory. 30 Knowing that MSC had little chance of convincing the PHS that no hazard existed,

Elbert King consulted with center medical experts and prepared a statement asserting that only subsurface samples should be treated as potential hazards and that

quarantine could be terminated as soon as returned samples were found free of

exotic organisms. He also set down several important policy questions concerning quarantine to serve as the basis for discussions with the PHS .31

When the two groups met at Houston on September 27, 1965, it soon became

apparent that MSC's evaluation of the hazard presented by lunar material was

not shared by PHS officials. King argued that the lunar surface could be considered sterile: it was in a high vacuum, devoid of water, exposed to intense ultraviolet radiation and subatomic particles from the solar wind, and subjected to severe

temperature changes. "If you really wanted to try to design a sterile surface,"

King later summarized his argument, "this was it." Thus surface material and

the astronauts who came in contact only with it should not require such rigorous

46
Handling Samples from the Moon

isolation as samples taken from greater depths. The PHS representative, Dr. James

Goddard, chief of the Communicable Disease Center in Atlanta, was unmoved

by these arguments. He asked whether anyone could be certain that no microorganisms could survive anywhere on the moon—in sheltered areas, for example.

When no one could offer such assurance, Goddard insisted that quarantine must

be strict. He and other PHS officials were upset, in fact, that MSC had taken such

a casual view of the biological hazard. Even if it cost $50 million to implement

an effective quarantine, Goddard said, the importance of the issues justified the

added expense. 32 When MSC asked whether the PHS's immigration officers

would allow the Apollo astronauts to enter the United States if they were handled in the same way the Gemini crews had been, the reply was emphatic: they

would not.33

When the conference was over MSC officials knew that the lunar receiving

laboratory would have to be even larger and more expensive than they had

expected. Quarantine would require astronauts and a fairly large support staff

to live in isolation for at least three weeks. The numerous postmission debriefings would have to be conducted through the biological barrier. Not only that,

but recovery operations would be much more difficult. PHS officials wanted to

prevent exposure of the command module's interior to the earth's atmosphere

from the moment it splashed down in the ocean, and the astronauts would have

to be isolated at once—even in the rubber rafts used by the recovery crews. On

reaching the recovery ship they would be led straight to a mobile quarantine chamber that could be flown back to the mainland. Passing the word to all branches

of the Systems Engineering Division at MSC, Division Chief Owen Maynard

directed them to show what measures were being taken to comply with these

requirements. "Rather than assume the standard answer that no changes can

be made within present weight, cost and schedule limitations," he said, "you

should assume that [we are] morally obligated to prevent any possible contamination of the earth." Initial examination should be based on the ground rule that

"no [command module] components can be exposed to the earth's atmosphere

following entry, except those components external to the pressure shell which

cannot be contaminated by the cabin environment." While conceding that the

first look might show the problems to be insurmountable, Maynard noted that

the hazards should be completely documented so that action could be taken as

needed.34

Maynard's instructions to his division probably reflected a widespread mood

of resignation to working around the difficulties that would result from imposition of strict quarantine, which, in the view of some, was unnecessary. 35 But the

question of back-contamination had been raised by the scientific community and

recognized as important by the Space Science Board and thus had the potential

to become a political issue that could create much adverse publicity for the Apollo

program.

Toward the end of 1965 it was generally accepted that crew and samples would

have to be strictly quarantined. On November 15 NASA's Deputy Administrator, Hugh L. Dryden, wrote to the Surgeon General proposing that a formal liaison office with the Public Health Service be established, that a NASA-PHS

advisory committee be set up to establish guidelines for back-contamination control and oversee NASA's efforts to avoid infecting the earth, and that the PHS

47
Where No Man Has Gone Before

recommend the kind of facilities and staff required to carry out those efforts.36

The Surgeon General's reply a month later paved the way for establishing formal cooperation in managing quarantine in the Apollo program .37

Congress Objects to the Receiving Laboratory

MSC had initially projected the cost of building the lunar receiving laboratory

at $6.5 million, but providing for quarantine would increase that considerably.

Before going ahead with plans to enlarge the laboratory, George Mueller, no doubt

with a view to minimizing the cost increase, directed MSC to conduct a quick

survey of quarantine facilities around the country that might serve to isolate crews

and support staff following Apollo missions. 38 Houston evaluated 12 hospitals

and research installations that were equipped for biological containment against

the requirements imposed on Apollo, and concluded that none would be satisfactory. Only one, in fact, an Army hospital at Fort Detrick, Maryland (which

provided care for personnel working with highly dangerous microorganisms),

even came close. Converting it to accommodate Apollo, however, would require

major new construction and would interfere with the Army's research programs.39

If the Apollo crews were to be quarantined, NASA evidently would have to build

its own isolation ward for the purpose, and in spite of its cost Mueller believed

he had adequate justification for it.

But lean years were beginning for manned space flight. President Lyndon Johnson pressed hard for expanded domestic social programs while announcing his

intention to keep the federal budget under $100 billion. At the same time the

nation's involvement in southeast Asia deepened; troop commitments increased

eightfold as the United States sent combat units to Vietnam. Other programs,

including space, would be squeezed hard to keep costs down.40

Administrator James Webb went to Congress in the spring of 1966 with an

authorization request for $5.012 billion, 60 percent of it for manned space flight.

It was an austere budget, Webb said, that provided "no margins of time or of

resources to counter the effects of setbacks or failures. 41 Manned programs

required $54.4 million for construction of facilities—a sharp increase from the previous year's request, but only one-fourth of what NASA had received two years

before. 42 The largest single amount, $36.5 million, went to Kennedy Space Center, most of it for completion of the Saturn V launch complex. The Manned Spacecraft Center needed $13.8 million, of which $9.1 million was allocated to the lunar

receiving laboratory.43

The House subcommittee on manned space flight was generally sympathetic

to Apollo's other requests, but it gave the lunar receiving laboratory unusually

close scrutiny. In response to questions submitted by the subcommittee after the

initial hearings on February 24, 1966, the Office of Manned Space Flight supplied

for the record a detailed history, including statements from the Public Health Service, of the requirements imposed by the scientific community and NASA's efforts

to satisfy them. 44 But when William Lilly, Headquarters Apollo Program Control

Director, and George Low, MSC's Deputy Director, faced the subcommittee on

March 1, some members apparently had not had time to study OMSF's responses.

Congressman Donald Rumsfeld suspected the receiving lab was NASA's attempt

48
Handling Samples from the Moon

to get a foot in the door for substantial expenditures later, and he saw no valid

reason to build the lab at MSC. 45 Ranking minority member James Fulton of Pennsylvania, like Rumsfeld, did not see why the lab had to be at Houston; but he

also faulted NASA for not planning to use existing facilities and questioned

NASA's assertion that the laboratory was needed. 46 Whatever the reasons for

the congressmen's antagonism to the receiving lab, Lilly and Low had an unexpectedly rough day. Olin Teague, chairman of the subcommittee and an unswerving supporter of manned space flight, did not preside at these hearings, and his

absence undoubtedly deprived them of a friendly interrogator who would have

helped them make their case. The following week the subcommittee, not convinced that NASA had justified the receiving laboratory, struck it out of the

authorization bill. 47

The loss of the laboratory was a blow to MSC and to Apollo; without it, NASA

could not meet the scientific requirements imposed on the lunar landing missions.

Mueller ordered a more detailed study of existing facilities that might serve either

to quarantine the crews and samples or to conduct the required scientific studies.48

MSC immediately appointed a site survey board to evaluate possible alternate

locations. From a list of 27 facilities a group of 8 was selected for detailed investigation. * The board then prepared a list of detailed criteria for the laboratory, based

primarily on its requirements for two-way biological containment, handling of

samples under high vacuum, and low-level radiation counting. Secondary but

important considerations included space, administrative and technical support

services, and availability of utilities. Finally, the board was to consider logistics,

principally the problem of travel to and from the site by engineers and others

who needed to debrief the astronauts.

Since time was limited, the board split up into two teams, one to survey the

eastern sites and one the western. Each team had a member who could estimate

the cost of modifying and operating the candidate facilities. During the week of

March 16-23 the teams inspected the eight establishments, conferring with officials at each site to assess the impact of Apollo's requirements on local programs

and their willingness to accept the project. The board then summarized its

findings:

1. There is no single facility that will meet the criteria standards for any one

of the major functional areas of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory, without

extensive modification.

2. There is no single facility that can be economically modified or adapted to

meet all the requirements of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory.

3. The use of any one of the sites investigated will result in reduction or

reprogramming of some phase of nationally significant research effort.

*USPHS Communicable Disease Center, Atlanta, Ga.; Army Biological Center, Ft. Detrick, Md.;

National Institutes of Health, Bethesda, Md.; Oak Ridge National Laboratory, Oak Ridge, Tenn.; USAF

School of Aviation Medicine, Brooks AFB, Tex.; NASA Ames Research Center, Moffett Field, Calif.;

Navy Biological Laboratories, Oakland, Calif.; and Los Alamos Scientific Laboratory, Los Alamos,

N. Mex.

49
Where No Man Has Gone Before

4. An integrated facility is necessary to minimize public health hazards.

5. Maximum operational effectiveness, as a part of the Apollo mission, and

minimum operating costs indicate a Houston location as the most preferred

site.49

The final report stressed the last point: efficient management of Apollo required

the astronauts, spacecraft, and lunar samples to be as close as possible

to Houston's engineers and physicians, especially in the first few weeks after

recovery.so

While this survey proceeded, Headquarters gathered more supporting information in preparation for a rehearing. 51 On March 31 Mueller, armed with the

site survey report and stacks of extra facts, appeared before the subcommittee.

In great detail he explained the history of the receiving lab, in particular the emergence of the requirement for quarantine, stressing NASA's cooperation with the

Public Health Service and the Space Science Board. Since some subcommittee

members apparently felt that NASA had sprung a surprise in proposing the new

facility, Mueller pointed out that chairman Teague had been informed of the probable need for a receiving laboratory in August 1965. Col. John Pickering, who

had headed the site-evaluation survey, then explained that group's operation and

reiterated its conclusions.52

This time the subcommittee was convinced and restored funds for the laboratory to the authorization bill. 53 Fulton, however, held out. He put his objections

on record in the full committee's report to the House, discounting the danger

of back-contamination, asserting that the site survey teams had been packed with

members predisposed to choose Houston as the site for the lab, and disputing

the need to centralize all the operations in one place. Contrary to NASA's own

findings, many other facilities in the country could be used with minor modification, Fulton said .54 When the authorization bill came to the House floor, it passed

with the lunar receiving laboratory's $9.1 million intact, though Fulton tried once

more to kill it. "We simply have no facts," he told his colleagues, "on which

to build a practical foundation and a laboratory."ss

The lunar receiving laboratory survived the authorization hearings but fared

somewhat less well in the Appropriations Committee,* which cut out $26.5 million in construction funds. The committee did not eliminate or reduce any specific

projects; it was simply not convinced that they should all be started immediately.

Some projects (presumably the receiving laboratory, although it was not mentioned by name), the committee report pointed out, would not be needed until

after the lunar landing. 56 The Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space

Sciences was more specific, reducing funds for the laboratory by $1 million and

warning NASA to keep a tight rein on its costs and provide only the necessary

minimum of specialized facilities.57

In the final appropriations bill passed by Congress, NASA's budget request

for fiscal 1967 was cut by $44 million, bringing funding for space below $5 billion

*Manned space flight (and the Manned Spacecraft Center) had lost a powerful friend in Congress

a few weeks earlier. Representative Albert Thomas of Houston, chairman of the subcommittee that

passed on NASA's appropriation bills, died on February 15, 1966.

50
Handling Samples from the Moon

for the first time since fiscal 1963. 58 Research and development, the category that

covered most of the agency's expenses for space flight hardware and operations,

suffered the smallest reduction, only $1.6 million out of $4,246.6 million requested.

Construction of facilities was reduced by $18.2 million and administrative operations by $23.9 million; 59 both of these reductions would have a considerable impact

on construction and operation of the lunar receiving laboratory.

Completing Design and Starting Construction

Throughout 1965, the Manned Spacecraft Center developed the architectural

and engineering requirements for the lunar receiving laboratory (LRL), relying

on Headquarters's Manned Space Science Division to define its scientific requirements. 60 By the end of the year Houston had completed its preliminary engineering study, requirements for quarantine of crew and support personnel had been

incorporated, and in March 1966 NASA officials took to Congress a description

for a building enclosing more than 86,000 square feet (8,000 square meters) of

floor space. One-fourth of this was required for the crew isolation area, two-thirds

for the sample-receiving laboratory and the biological facilities, and the rest for

the radiation-counting laboratory—part of which was 50 feet (15 meters) below

ground level and elaborately shielded against radiation from outside.61

Houston planned a two-phase construction program; the first, for the foundation and building shell, to begin in July 1966; and the second, to complete and

equip the building, to start in September. Total construction costs were estimated

at around $8 million. The vacuum system and its associated equipment were to

be designed and built by the Oak Ridge National Laboratory of the Atomic Energy

Commission. At the time of the congressional hearings MSC expected the entire

facility to be ready for operation by the end of December 1967. 62 A program office

and a policy board for the LRL were established in May 1966.63

Congress's unexpected opposition to the LRL delayed the schedule, however,

and by midsummer Headquarters advised Houston that it could solicit bids but

could not open them until NASA's authorization bill had passed. Both schedule

and budget were tight, but it seemed that MSC would have to live with both,

since Congress was far from favorable toward the project. 64 Clearance to open

bids for the first phase of construction came on July 28 with the stipulation that

no contract was to be awarded nor was the second contractor to be announced

until Headquarters gave the word. 65 On August 1 MSC selected Warrior Constructors, Inc., of Houston for the initial phase of construction; on the 19th the

contract for completing the laboratory went to a consortium of Warrior, National

Electronics Corp. of Houston, and Notkin & Co. of Kansas City, Mo. The two

contracts totaled approximately $7.8 million.66

Staffing the Lunar Receiving Laboratory

While most of the early planning for the lunar receiving laboratory necessarily

concentrated on the building and its equipment, the scientists who were draw51
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ing up its functions continually pondered the problem of providing a competent

staff to operate it. The Space Science Board's ad hoc committee (Harry Hess's

group) saw merit in establishing a "small but competent [scientific] staff headed

by a scientist of recognized stature" to maintain a modest research program, but

felt that "the problem of attracting a highly competent small staff is serious, "67

presumably because the environment at MSC did not appeal to scientists. The

Houston center had only a few scientists, most of them younger professionals

who had yet to establish their reputations and had little chance to do so in the

roles they were assigned. 68 OSSA's ad hoc committee proposed a permanent staff

to sustain the laboratory, supplemented by visiting scientists who would do much

of the experimental work on the lunar samples.69

As plans matured, however, and particularly as the requirement for quarantine developed in 1965, the question of an organization and staff for the laboratory became increasingly pressing. In early September, James McLane, MSC's

engineer in charge of the early planning, outlined the peculiar requirements of

the new laboratory in a five-page memorandum. McLane noted that preliminary

studies had pointed up the need for a minimum of three persons to serve as an

administrative staff: a director, a technical director (chief scientist), and an assistant technical director (sample curator), all of whom should be MSC civil service

employees. Major questions concerning the roles of these staff members needed

resolution. Where would they fit in the MSC organization? What responsibility

would they have in managing and distributing the lunar samples? Should they

be eminent scientists to satisfy the scientific community? (At one time McLane

had heard that a Nobel laureate was being suggested.) How would differences

between visiting scientists and MSC's operations be settled? McLane urged that

MSC and Headquarters work out these details, define the positions, and start

recruiting." It would be highly desirable," he said, "to have at least one of

these ... positions filled reasonably early in the final design phase (late 1965)."

Concerning quarantine, McLane felt that this might be better left to the Public

Health Service; but whatever was decided, definite responsibility should be

assigned as soon as possible .71

But while design studies went on under the pressure of the early-1969 schedule for beginning operations, laboratory organization and staffing languished.

Discussions with the Public Health Service and definition of the PHS's role in

quarantine took up most of the last half of 1965. MSC and the Headquarters standing committee for the sample receiving laboratory spent much of the first half

of 1966 working over the lab design. And when Congress balked at Houston's

plan for the receiving lab, considerable effort had to be given to justifying its existence and its location. All in all, the lunar receiving laboratory created a knotty

management problem, which was probably complicated by the lack of a focal point

for science at MSC.

Early in 1966 the Planetology Subcommittee of OSSA's Space Science Steering

Committee,* worried by the lack of progress in defining the scientific role of the

*The Space Sciences Steering Committee, composed entirely of NASA employees, was responsible

for recommending science programs and projects to the Associate Administrator for Space Science

and Applications. Seven subcommittees, each having about half its members from the outside scientific community, advised the main committee on specific areas of space science.

52
Handling Samples from the Moon

receiving laboratory, recommended that the standing committee monitor that

aspect of the planning and report periodically to the Steering Committee." After

some discussion within OSSA, the standing committee was replaced by a Lunar

Receiving Laboratory Working Group chaired by Dr. Clark Goodman of the

physics faculty at the University of Houston, a member of the Planetology Subcommittee. At its first meeting on May 5, 1966, the group reviewed progress on

laboratory design and studied MSC's schedule for construction and activation

of the lab. MSC's presentation made no mention of staffing, and when the question was raised it developed that no job descriptions were available and no recruiting was under way for key positions. While members of the working group were

impressed by MSC's concept of the laboratory, they were concerned about the

lack of definition of its organization. Their concern took the form of a resolution,

in which they also recommended that at least 12 civil-service positions be made

available for scientists in the LRL and stated the group's willingness to suggest

candidates. 72 Later in the month MSC prepared an estimate of staffing requirements that showed 33 resident scientists (Ph.D. or equivalent) and provision to

accommodate 15 visiting scientists working on grants from Headquarters .71

Houston's freedom to staff the receiving laboratory was restricted by the budget

cuts imposed by Congress, which ultimately reduced the number of civil-service

positions at the center by 84 in fiscal 1967. 74 The LRL Working Group continued

to press for action while MSC struggled with the problem of fitting the laboratory into its organization. 75 A possible alternative came to light in midsummer

when the University of Houston approached officials at MSC about managing

the laboratory under contract. 76 The idea of using an outside management contractor had been considered by MSC, and Houston officials gave this initiative

considerable thought. Early in September a plan was drafted for consideration

by Headquarters, calling for the University of Houston, through its Houston

Research Institute, to head a consortium of regional unversities to provide professional staff and technical support for operations in the receiving lab. 77 In further

discussions with Headquarters MSC stressed the value of a connection with the

academic world and the difficulty of staffing the laboratory under existing civilservice restrictions .71

Headquarters wanted to look more closely at the situation, however, and discussions continued through the rest of the year. NASA's top managers evidently

had visions that the lunar receiving laboratory would become a national laboratory for lunar studies, in which case participation by the academic community

on a nationwide scale would be desirable. 79 Meanwhile, MSC was directed to

create a task force to take care of the receiving laboratory's basic needs, extend

existing support contracts to meet immediate requirements, and await developments. 80 If additional scientific talent was needed, other NASA centers could be

called on to provide it.81

During all these discussions, pressure from concerned groups mounted. The

LRL Working Group especially emphasized the need to name a director for the

laboratory. The Public Health Service felt that matters had reached a point where

an organization and staff were critical to further progress, and suggested that

the laboratory chief should be someone thoroughly familiar with biomedical

science generally and quarantine in particular.82

53
Where No Man Has Gone Before

In fact, MSC officials had finally come to recognize the need for more than just

a staff and organization for the receiving laboratory. By mid-December the Houston center had decided to create a Science and Applications Directorate, organizationally on a par with Max Faget's Engineering and Development Directorate,

in which all the center's scientific activity would be centralized (see Chapter 6).

It would take over the activities of the Experiments Program Office and the Space

Sciences Division as well as a number of other scientific functions scattered around

the center. Robert O. Piland, chief of the Experiments Program Office, would

act as director while a search was instituted for an established scientist to fill the

position. 83 No director was named for the lunar receiving laboratory; pending

a permanent appointment, Joseph V. Piland, project manager for LRL construction, was named acting manager.

To provide the laboratory technicians who would prepare the lunar receiving

laboratory for operation, MSC turned to its support contractors. In mid-January

1967 Gilruth notified Headquarters that he intended to extend an existing contract with Brown & Root-Northrop, which would furnish technicians for the receiving laboratory under the direction of the project manager. 14 Between completion

of the laboratory and the first lunar mission, Brown & Root-Northrop would train

its employees in laboratory operations and maintenance and prepare for an operational readiness inspection and a rehearsal of a complete cycle of laboratory

operation.

The Manned Spacecraft Center had recognized the need for a lunar sample

receiving laboratory and was willing to support it, but many MSC engineers—

and a few scientists as well—felt that the quarantine facility and its elaborate

precautions were unnecessary impediments to Apollo operations. But however

insignificant manned space flight officials believed the risk of back-contamination

to be, it was a risk NASA could not afford to take. If they were wrong, the consequences would be, as the scientists said, disastrous.

54
5

SELECTING AND TRAINING THE CREWS

From the moment the lunar landing was proposed as the primary goal of

manned space flight, NASA officials and outside scientists debated the qualifications of the people who would land on the moon. Scientists urged that at least

one of the crew should be a scientist with enough experience to assess the significant features of the landing site quickly and accurately and to collect samples

with discrimination. Those responsible for mission operations and crew training

insisted that mission success and crew safety could be assured only if every crew

member were a skilled pilot, preferably a test pilot, able to complete a mission

alone if that unlikely situation should ever arise. Once the many unknowns in

lunar landing operations were better understood, it might be considered safe to

take along a person with different qualifications.'

Finding crew members who combined the experience of a scientist with the

skills of a test pilot proved impossible. For the first five years, during the

experimental and developmental phase of the Apollo program, piloting experience

took precedence over scientific training as a requirement for admission to the

astronaut corps. Later, as missions devoted largely to scientific operations were

contemplated, scientists were admitted and trained as pilots.

Test-Pilot Astronauts

Before Project Mercury, design concepts for manned spacecraft were constrained

by a lack of hard facts about the human ability to function in the space environment. Many believed that electronic systems, controlled from the ground or programmed for specific contingencies, offered the only safe and practical means

of operating a spacecraft. From this point of view, the person in the spacecraft

was simply a passenger, an experimental subject whose main function would

be to provide the physiological data needed to define the limits of a human's

role in space. Mercury's designers did not completely agree with this philosophy; they conceived a spacecraft in which the pilot could take control of critical

systems if necessary and would have some measure of control at all times.z

Within months of the start of Project Mercury NASA selected its first group

of pilots for the early earth-orbital flights. The "Original Seven," all military test

55
Where No Man Has Gone Before

pilots* with strong engineering backgrounds, were volunteers picked from a list

of more than a hundred men provided by the Pentagon (see Appendix 6). 3 In

view of Mercury's experimental character, the choice of test pilots was appropriate; they were accustomed to dealing with emergencies under stressful conditions and were familiar with the physical and psychological stresses of high-speed

flight in unproven aircraft.

In choosing test pilots as its first astronauts, NASA came down on the side

of people as active participant in spacecraft operations. It was yet to be shown

how much humans could effectively participate, but the astronauts in the first

group insisted on giving the pilot as much responsibility for control of the spacecraft as feasible; if the pilot did not operate the spacecraft, what was the point

of a person in space (especially a test pilot)? Most of the engineers in the Space

Task Group agreed with this viewpoint. In light of their long NACA experience

with piloted aircraft, they too inclined toward giving pilots all the control they

could safely handle.4

When the first group of astronauts entered the program in April 1959, Project

Mercury and the Space Task Group were organizationally in flux. As a result,

the Original Seven defined the role of the astronaut for the entire Apollo program. Administratively they reported not to any project office but directly to

Robert R. Gilruth, director of the Space Task Group. For most of Gilruth's career

in NACA he had worked with pilots, and he took a special interest in this group.

Shortly after the astronauts reported aboard he assured them that whenever they

had serious concern with any aspect of spacecraft design or mission operations

he would see that they were listened to.5

The first two astronaut classes (1963). Seated, left to right, the "Original Seven": L. Gordon

Cooper, Jr., Virgil I. (Gus) Grissom, M. Scott Carpenter, Walter M. Schirra, Jr., John H. Glenn,

Jr., Alan B. Shepard, Jr., and Donald K. (Deke) Slayton. Standing, left to right: Edward H. White

II, James A. McDivitt, John M. Young, Elliot M. See, Jr., Charles Conrad, Jr., Frank Borman,

Neil A. Armstrong, Thomas P. Stafford, and James A. Lovell, Jr.

*NASA originally intended to issue a general solicitation of applications for the position of "research

astronaut-candidate," and considered that several occupations besides test pilot might qualify. President

Eisenhower, however, directed the agency to select its astronauts from the ranks of military test pilots;

this would simplify selection, keep out undesirable applicants, and eliminate the need to run security checks on the candidates.

ORIGINAL PAGE 56 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Selecting and Training the Crews

Given this kind of autonomy the astronauts were considerably more than pilots

in training to operate a new vehicle. While undergoing training they also took

an active part in reviews of spacecraft design and operations planning, offered

suggestions from the pilot's point of view, and contributed to the design of the

flight simulators that soon became an important part of astronaut training. Each

person was assigned an area of spacecraft systems or operations planning (e.g.,

attitude-control systems, communications, recovery operations) as a prime responsibility; in his specialty he closely followed developments and served as the point

of contact between his astronaut colleagues and project engineers. 6 Training was

strongly engineering- and operations-oriented, a pattern that would be carried

into subsequent projects.

Scientists Call for Representation on Apollo Crews

NASA's scientific advisory community first addressed the role of the astronaut

in space science at the Iowa Summer Study in 1962 (see Chapters 1 and 3). Concerning humans on the moon, the study report stated the belief that

it is extremely important for at least one crew member of each Apollo lunar

mission to possess the maximum scientific ability and training consistent with

his required contribution to spacecraft operations.

This person should participate "in the earliest possible lunar missions," and, since

the chosen mode of operations called for only two men on the lunar surface, "the

maximum scientific return will be achieved only if the scientist himself lands on

the Moon. ­ 7

A working group of the 1962 summer study considered in detail the role of

people in space exploration, formulating the scientists' position with reference

to science missions of many types, not merely lunar exploration. The group

defined several combinations of scientific and astronautic skills that would be

appropriate for different degrees of scientific participation in manned space missions. At the top of the scale was the "scientist-astronaut"; fully trained both

as a scientist and as an astronaut, he could operate the spacecraft as well as make

valid scientific observations. For the long term, the working group recommended

creating an Institute for Advanced Space Study—a graduate-level institute with

a unique curriculum in which candidates holding bachelor's degrees would be

trained as scientist-astronauts (see Chapter 3). Meanwhile, aspirants to this position should be recruited from among qualified scientists and trained to achieve

comparable qualifications as astronauts.'

The working group recognized that no such scientist-astronauts could be trained

in time for a lunar landing within the decade. For the short term, they

acknowledged that the best course was to give qualified astronauts as much training in science as possible, so that they could be useful observers for the scientist

on the ground. These "astronaut-observers" were expected to play a role in lunar

exploration even after fully trained scientist-astronauts became available. Others

who would be important in conducting space science missions were the "ground

scientist," a scientist thoroughly familiar with all the details of space flight oper57
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ations, who would direct the activities of the astronaut-observer from the ground;

and the "scientist passenger,"* a scientist physically qualified for space flight

but not trained to operate the spacecraft.9

Not surprisingly, the summer study report repeatedly emphasized the need

for the scientist-astronaut to keep up with his science; the scientist who does not

maintain a continuous research program falls behind his colleagues who do and

loses his standing in the scientific community. At the same time, the tone of the

working group's findings implied that the techniques of operating the spacecraft

could be learned by any intelligent person in a couple of years and were therefore of subsidiary importance. The level of comprehension of the astronaut's task

was indicated by the responses—summarized in the report—to a questionnaire

sent by the Space Science Board to a number of scientists. On the question of

whether the first scientist on the moon should also be an astronaut, the consensus

of those responding was:

Of course. He should be familiar with all aspects of the spacecraft and be able

to take over in an emergency. However, his qualification as a crew member

would not depend so much on his ability as a space-pilot as on his scientific

aptitude.

To the question of how astronaut-scientists should be developed, the scientists

replied that graduate students or early postdoctoral fellows should be picked and

trained

for at least four or five years. They should go through astronaut training for part

of each year to become familiar with the problems of spaceflight. It is hoped that this

would not involve too large a fraction of their time [emphasis added], since emphasis

should be on their development as scientists.10

In 1962, of course, few people fully understood the demands that would be made

of Apollo crews; but if these statements reflected opinions widely held in the

science community concerning the training required to become a proficient

astronaut, it is not surprising that misunderstandings developed when the time

came to choose crews for the lunar landing missions.

Organizing the Astronaut Corps

The first group of astronauts immediately became public figures, and as Mercury

shifted into flight operations in the closing days of 1961, demands on their time

for interviews and personal appearances multiplied. NASA welcomed the publicity for the space program, but this aspect of the astronauts' status often made

impossible demands on their heavy training schedule. And when a second program, Gemini, was established late in the year, it was clear that more astronauts

would be entering the program, further complicating training and flight preparations. When Space Task Group managers decided that someone should be

'Fifteen years would pass before NASA had scientist-passengers, now known as "mission specialists"

and "payload specialists," who began flying on Shuttle missions in the early 1980s.

58
Selecting and Training the Crews

appointed to organize the astronauts' activities more efficiently, some of the

astronauts suggested that they would prefer to have one of their own rather than

an outsider in that job. As it happened, one was available.

Air Force Captain Donald K. ("Deke") Slayton, assigned to the second Mercury orbital flight, had been grounded a few weeks before the mission when physicians discovered a minor (and, as it turned out, apparently harmless) irregularity

in his heartbeat. Although no one could definitely say that Slayton's condition

would endanger him or the mission, neither would any medical expert assure

NASA that no risk was involved. Prudence, a quality which NASA's high-level

managers possessed in full measure, dictated that someone without any detectable abnormality should fly the mission instead, and Slayton was grounded until

the physicians could be confident he was physically qualified to fly."

Slayton was one of the most experienced of the original seven astronauts. He

had flown combat missions in Europe and the Pacific in World War Il and had

been a test pilot assigned to fighter operations at the Air Force Flight Test Center

at Edwards Air Force Base when he was selected as an astronaut. His personal

commitment to the manned space program was complete. He had vigorously

defended the cause of humans in space before the Society of Experimental Test

Pilots when most test pilots, unfamiliar with the actual course that the project

was taking, considered that Mercury offered them no future and little valuable

experience. His disqualification, especially on physical grounds, was a shock to

everyone in the project as well as to the public. It was personally devastating

to him; besides losing out in the competition for a space flight assignment, he

was forbidden by the Air Force to fly alone in high-performance aircraft.1z

In September 1962 Slayton was appointed Coordinator of Astronaut Activities,

reporting to Gilruth. Without complaint, he took over the largely administrative

duties of scheduling training activities, visits to contractor plants, and public

appearances and interviews with the news media. But the most important responsibility he assumed was that of assigning astronauts to specific missions. This

responsibility he shared with no one else; although he had plenty of help in assessing each candidate's personal and professional qualifications and mastery of the

spacecraft systems and mission plans, Slayton made the final decision. His decisions stuck: in the entire manned program, from the later Mercury flights through

the Skylab missions, he could later recall only one instance in which higher

authority challenged his judgment.13

When the Manned Spacecraft Center was reorganized the following year, Slayton's position was redesignated Assistant Director for Flight Crew Operations,

organizationally on a level with the assistant directors* for engineering, flight

operations, and administration. 14 For some time he was also chief of the Astronaut

Office, the administrative unit that coordinated training and other astronaut activities, and he continued training with the first two groups as much as he could,

hoping for eventual reassignment to flying status.

Under Deke Slayton the Astronaut Office was run much like a military unit—

which for several years it effectively was, since almost all the astronauts were

*The title "Assistant Director for ... ," meant "assistant to the director of MSC in charge of..."

but was applied to the heads of directorates. This confusing designation was later dropped and chiefs

of directorates were called simply "directors of...."

59
Where No Man Has Gone Before

or had been Air Force, Navy, or Marine officers. He encouraged open communication between himself and the astronauts, but expected that when a decision

had been made the discussion was finished. As one of the astronauts characterized Slayton's management style, the astronaut's job was "to do what the commanding officer says, and if you (didn't) want to ... , the door was always

open"15—the door marked "this way out." Astronauts came into the program

voluntarily and they could always leave the same way.

Slayton well understood the position manned space flight occupied in the

national space program as a consequence of its prominence in the public eye:

any failure, especially one that endangered or killed an astronaut, could set back

the lunar landing for years, and might even kill the manned space flight program. His contribution to avoiding failure was to pick the best people for the crews,

and as long as manned space flight entailed any hazardous uncertainties, the best

people would be experienced test pilots.

More Missions, More Astronauts

While much was learned from Mercury, much more had to be learned before

a lunar mission could be planned. Even before President Kennedy's decision to

go to the moon was announced, Space Task Group engineers were planning the

second phase of manned space flight. Project Gemini, approved in early December 1961, would test various techniques of rendezvous, determine whether men

and systems could survive and function during long missions, investigate the

radiation environment in near-earth space, and develop techniques for controlled

landings. Twelve missions were planned, ten of them manned, to start in the

spring of 1964 and fly at two-month intervals.16

Additional missions required additional astronauts, and on April 18, 1962,

NASA announced it would accept applications for trainees. Once more test pilots

were given preference, but the required number of flying hours was reduced,

and civilians as well as military pilots were eligible. The upper age limit was

reduced from 40 to 35 and the education qualification broadened to include degrees

in physical or biological sciences as well as engineering. 17 A list of more than 250

applicants was cut to 32 by preliminary physical and psychological screening.

After intensive evaluation in Houston, nine new astronaut trainees were chosen

in September 1962: two civilians, four Air Force pilots, and three Navy officers,

including some who had applied for the first group but had not been selected

(see Appendix 6). 18 Selection of this group virtually depleted the pool of qualified candidates from the small corps of test pilots in the country, and it was the

last group for which test-pilot certification would be a requirement. 19

The new trainees reported at Houston in October 1962 to begin a two-year training course. A four-day work week was normally scheduled, the fifth day being

reserved for public relations duties or for travel. 20 After two weeks of orientation

to NASA's organization and familiarization with the near-complete Mercury project, the second class, joined by the first group, started on a three-month "basic

science" course interspersed with briefings on Gemini and Apollo projects and

systems. The classroom work covered astronomy, aerodynamics, rocket propul60
Selecting and Training the Crews

sion, and the physics of orbital flight and re-entry; it included lectures on computers, space physics, and the medical aspects of space flight. Almost one-third

of the classroom time was spent on navigation and guidance. In mid-January 1963

the class flew to Flagstaff, Arizona, for a series of geology lectures and field trips

conducted by Eugene Shoemaker.21

As the Apollo program came into clearer focus in 1962, MSC officials saw that

they needed still more astronauts. At the end of the year projected manned flights

included four development flights of the Saturn I, four of the Saturn IB (an

"uprated" version of the Saturn I), and one of the Saturn V, starting in late 1964

and flying at three-month intervals until mid 1967. 22 The 16 astronauts in training would not be enough to staff the 10 Gemini missions plus the 9 scheduled

for Apollo, and in April 1963 MSC announced its intention to recruit a third class

of trainees .21 On June 18 the Houston center issued its formal call for applications. For this group the requirement for flight experience was relaxed still further: 1,000 hours of jet time could substitute for test-pilot certification. The selection

board might consider advanced degrees in engineering or science as offsetting

some lack of flight experience. Industry, professional organizations, and the armed

services were asked to recommend candidates .24 Manned space flight chief

Brainerd Holmes, acknowledging the Space Science Board's Iowa summer study

recommendations, indicated to Congress that scientific qualifications would be

taken into account in selecting this group .21

Of 271 applicants responding, 30 were selected for final screening. On October

18, 1963, MSC announced the names of the newest class of astronaut trainees

(see Appendix 6). Again military officers outnumbered civilians, by 12 to 2. 26 (At

the end of 1963 the astronaut corps comprised 26 military pilots and 4 civilians,

all trained in military service . 27) The new group was distinguished by a large numThe third class of astronauts, selected October 18, 1963. Seated, left to right: Edwin E. (Buzz)

Aldrin, Jr., William A. Anders, Charles A. Bassett II, Alan L. Bean, Eugene A. Cernan, Roger

B. Chaffee. Standing, left to right: Michael Collins, R. Walter Cunningham, Donn F. Eisele,

Theodore C. Freeman, Richard F. Gordon, Jr., Russell L. Schweickart, David R. Scott, and Clifton

C. Williams, Jr. Four members of this class died during training: Bassett, Freeman, and Williams,

killed in aircraft crashes, and Chaffee, killed in the AS-204 fire on January 27, 1967.

ORIGINAL PAGE 61

BLACK AND WHITE P!-^Tr)rPAPN
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ber of advanced degrees: 8 of the 14 had master's degrees and one held a doctorate in astronautics. The two civilians were scientists actively engaged in

research. Most of the military officers held engineering degrees. In spite of MSC's

obvious preference for pilots, the scientific community raised no outcry about

the lack of scientists in the astronaut program. Harold Urey, however, publicly

reproved the agency, late in the year, for not recruiting geologists to explore the

moon.28

When the new group reported to Houston in January 1964, Slayton had 29 pilots

to look after, including 5 Mercury veterans. * The first four men who would walk

on the moon were in training, but at the time all attention focused on Gemini,

whose first manned launch was scheduled for November 1964.29

Classroom work began in February with a new basic science program, a 20-week

series of lectures, briefings, and field trips, strongly oriented toward Gemini but

also including substantial chunks of time devoted to geology, which was entirely

an Apollo concern. The veterans of the previous year's training skipped parts

of this course to spend time in the Gemini simulators, but the geology sessions

were required of everyone. Geologists from MSC and from the Geological Survey guided them through the equivalent of a one-semester college course in land

forms and land-forming geologic processes, minerals and their origin, and topographic and geologic mapping. Lectures and laboratory work were supplemented

by field trips to study the Grand Canyon, the Big Bend area of west Texas, and

the volcano fields near Flagstaff, Arizona, and Cimarron, New Mexico .30 No one

- - w

A 1}1 y. T

Astronauts Edgar Mitchell (right) and Alan Shepard (second from right) and three geology

instructors examine a small crater near Flagstaff, Arizona.

*John Glenn resigned from the program in January 1964 to enter business (and later, politics). Another

Mercury astronaut, Scott Carpenter, would soon be devoting most of his time to the Navy's Project

Sealab, an experimental underwater habitat, although he would retain formal affiliation with the

astronaut program for another three and a half years.

ORIGINAL PAGE

62 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Selecting and Training the Crews

expected the astronauts to become fully qualified field geologists as a result of

this training, but they could at least learn to interpret what they would see on

the moon in terms of its probable geologic history and to recognize important

geological specimens if they found any. On the later field trips the geologistinstructors began simulating lunar exploration by sending their pupils into an

area with a radio transmitter and instructions to note the geologic features they

could see, describe what they considered important, and collect representative

samples of rocks and surface material. Their commentary was recorded and the

exercise was completed with a detailed critique of their performance.31

Geology was a new field for most of the engineer-astronauts, rather unlike

anything in their experience. What impressed most of them was the large amount

of specialized terminology they had to learn—new words having little relation

to their accustomed vocabulary. Instructors found them willing enough students,

for the most part, but highly variable in their response to the course. Some seemed

to be born observers and quickly developed the knack of picking out the distinguishing geologic features of an area and describing them in geologist's terms;

others had more difficulty acquiring the field geologist's eye. Apart from the problem of adjusting to a new discipline with a novel point of view, the astronauts

faced the question of how heavily their performance in geology would count when

the time came to select flight crews. Seniority and flying experience seemed to

be of prime importance in determining who got the assignments for Apollo flights,

and it was important to get picked as early as possible for a Gemini crew. Well

aware that no one could completely master every aspect of training, the astronauts

sought to shine in those aspects that were most Iikely to attract Slayton's attention. For the short-term future at least, geology seemed fairly far down the priority list.31

Moving Into Flight Operations

After a problem-filled 1963, Project Gemini looked toward better things in 1964.

The first flight test of the spacecraft and its Titan Il launch vehicle went off on

April 11, raising hopes of a manned flight before year's end. 33 Two days later,

the Manned Spacecraft Center announced the names of the first crews for the

two-man earth-orbital missions. As might have been expected, the Commander

of the first Gemini mission was one of the Original Seven, Virgil 1. ("Gus") Grissom, who had ridden the second suborbital Mercury flight in July 1961. Paired

with Grissom was one of the second astronaut group, John W. Young. Their

backup crew likewise had a representative from each of the first two astronaut

classes, Walter M. Schirra, Jr., pilot on Mercury-Atlas 8, and Thomas P. Stafford .34

A week after the announcement, the four Gemini crewmen headed into a full

mission-specific training schedule. At the spacecraft builder's plant in St. Louis,

at MSC in Houston, and at the Cape in Florida they put in long hours learning

the design and function of the spacecraft systems, following the assembly and

testing of their spacecraft, attending briefings on program and mission objectives,

and practicing such tasks as getting out of a floating spacecraft. Simulators duplicated as closely as possible most of the conditions of launch, orbital flight, and

63
Where No Man Has Gone Before

recovery (weightlessness being a notable exception), and in these simulators the

crews practiced normal operations as well as all the likely malfunctions their training officers could think of. * Occasional trips to the Navy's man-rated centrifuge

in Johnsville, Pennsylvania, gave them practice in enduring the acceleration forces

("g-loads") of launch and reentry. Training stretched from a planned 7 months

to 11 when their flight was delayed by problems with the second unmanned test,

and by the time their flight was ready for launch on March 23, 1965, the crews

would have been hard to surprise with anything that might come up.31

When crews were named on July 27, 1964, for the second Gemini mission,

Slayton broke the pattern of designating an orbital veteran as commander, choosing four inexperienced men for Gemini IV even though one Mercury astronaut

had not yet been assigned." James A. McDivitt and Edward H. White I1 were

named commander and pilot of the prime crew, backed up by Frank Borman and

James A. Lovell, Jr., all members of the second astronaut class. 36 Flight experience

At the end of a 50-foot arm, the man-rated centrifuge at the Manned Spacecraft Center spins a

three-man gondola to simulate the g-forces during launch and re-entry.

*See Appendix 7 for a summary discussion of simulation and training.

**Of the Original Seven, Glenn had resigned, Carpenter was working in Project Sealab, and Slayton was medically disqualified. At the press conference naming the Gemini 3 crews it was also

announced that Alan Shepard was suffering from a middle-ear inflammation that grounded him as

well. (Later that year Shepard took over from Slayton as chief of the Astronaut Office.) Only Cooper

remained unassigned at this time.

ORIGINAL PAGE

64 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Selecting and Training the Crews

seemed clearly to be a factor in Slayton's choice of crews, but it was just as clearly

not the only factor. L. Gordon Cooper, Jr., pilot on the 34-hour, 22-orbit Mercury 9 mission, was not assigned until the Gemini V crew was named in February 1965; his pilot was Charles ("Pete") Conrad, Jr., of the second group. Their

backups, both from the second group, were Neil A. Armstrong and Elliott M.

See, Jr.37

After Grissom and Young completed Gemini 3, Slayton announced that their

backup crew, Schirra and Stafford, would be the prime crew for Gemini VI, backed

up by Grissom and Young. To trainees eagerly seeking some clue to their prospects

for flight assignment, this signaled that appointment to a backup crew was the

key to flying a mission. The system Slayton followed, as long as circumstances

permitted, was to promote each backup crew to prime crew of the next available

mission after their own prime crew had flown. Each flight had different objectives, requiring different training, and the prime and backup crews had to train

as a team to perform most efficiently. Almost to a man, the astronauts professed

being in the dark as to exactly how Slayton chose crew members for their first

assignment, but that did not matter once they perceived that when they were

named to a backup crew they were, at last, in line for a flight assignment .38

Selection of the First Scientist-Astronauts

As the Office of Manned Space Flight began to consider post-Apollo possibilities in 1963-1964, science-oriented missions—lunar exploration and earth-orbital

missions of many days' duration—appeared to be the most acceptable of a very

few alternatives. The principal theme of George Mueller's expositions to Congress was the continued use of Apollo's rockets, spacecraft, and launch facilities

to conduct scientific and technological investigations on the moon and in space—to

produce a return on the nation's investment in manned space flight. Mueller's

proposals were criticized as unimaginative and not conducive to the advancement of space technology, but none of NASA's top managers was willing to advocate bolder programs under the budgetary restraints that were becoming apparent

in 1964.39

For any serious scientific work the crews in the spacecraft would have to include

some scientists trained as astronauts rather than astronauts trained as scientific

observers; and early in 1964 selection of scientists for the astronaut program began.

MSC officials and representatives of the National Academy of Sciences met in

February to draft a plan for recruitment and selection. Agreement was reached

that the Academy would define the scientific qualifications desirable in the candidates while MSC would specify the physical and psychological requirements.

On April 16 Homer Newell formally asked Harry Hess, chairman of the Space

Science Board, to draw up a statement of the scientific qualifications for a scientistastronaut. 41 In Mid-October, Headquarters announced that it would accept applications from scientists who wanted to become astronauts. The primary requirement was a doctorate in medicine, engineering, or one of the natural sciences.

No applicant had to be a qualified pilot; those accepted by the Space Science Board

and by NASA would be assigned to the Air Force for a year of flying training.41

65
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Any doubt that scientists were interested in space flight was dispelled by the

response: more than a thousand hopefuls sent in their applications. An ad hoc

committee of the Space Science Board (chaired in Hess's absence by Eugene Shoemaker) rigorously scrutinized about 400 of those who passed NASA's preliminary screening, finally sending only 16 names to NASA for final evaluation.42

MSC had hoped for a larger group to choose from; Slayton's selection board had

much less information on the applicants' physical condition and psychological

makeup than they had for military applicants, and the choices were consequently

harder to make. 43 The Space Science Board, however, was evidently determined

to pick only the most promising scientists. Shoemaker later recalled that the committee had been disappointed in the overall quality of the applications that came

in. Not many of the scientists who applied came up to the rather high standards

they set. 44 Whatever the reasons for this, NASA was able to pick only 6 scientistastronauts instead of 10 or more, as it had initially planned.

On June 27, 1965, NASA announced the names of its first scientist-astronaut

candidates: two physicians, Duane M. Graveline and Lt. Cmdr. Joseph P. Kerwin, MC, USN, and four Ph.D. scientists, F. Curtis Michel, Edward G. Gibson,

Owen K. Garriott, and Harrison H. Schmitt (who was generally known by his

nickname, "Jack"). 45 Kerwin was a flight surgeon stationed at Cecil Naval Air

Station in Florida; Graveline, a former Air Force flight surgeon, was working in

the medical program at MSC. Gibson, a senior research scientist at the Applied

Research Laboratories of Philco's Aeronutronics Division in San Diego, California, and Garriott, associate professor of physics at Stanford University, were both

engineers engaged in research in solar and atmospheric physics. Michel was an

The first class of scientist-astronauts (1965). Left to right: Owen K. Garriott, Frank Curtis Michel,

Harrison H. (Jack) Schmitt, Duane E. Graveline, Edward G. Gibson, and Joseph P. Kerwin.

ORIGINAL' PAGE 66

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Selecting and Training the Crews

assistant professor of physics at Rice University in Houston conducting research

in the interaction of the solar wind with the earth's atmosphere. Schmitt, the

lone geologist in the group, was working with Eugene Shoemaker at the Geological Survey's Astrogeology Branch. The only qualified pilots in the group were

Michel, a former Air Force pilot, and Kerwin, a naval aviator. The other four were

sent to Williams Air Force Base in Arizona to begin 55 weeks of flying training.46

Within a few weeks Graveline resigned from the program, citing "personal reasons" for his action.47

Future Plans Require Yet More Astronauts

From 1964 through 1966 George Mueller, chief of manned space flight programs,

worked hard to sell an ambitious post-Apollo program to his NASA superiors

and to Congress. His Apollo Applications Program (AAP), established in August

1965, contemplated 29 lunar and earth-orbital missions between 1968 and 1971.

Two-thirds of them would be manned flights, launched at the rate of eight per

year. A manned program of that magnitude seemed to have little chance of becoming reality, but until circumstances forced him to back down from it, Mueller kept

the pressure on the field centers to plan for big things.48

At Houston, Bob Gilruth and Deke Slayton—whatever their own views about

the probability that such an ambitious schedule could be realized—had to be prepared to furnish crews for whatever emerged as the Apollo Applications Program.

If the projected AAP missions should actually materialize, many crews would

be needed in short order and training had to begin soon. While the recruitment

of scientist-astronauts was under way, Gilruth and Slayton urged that additional

pilot candidates be sought at the same time, but Mueller decided to wait until

the scientist-astronauts had been chosen. 49 When only six trainees emerged from

that selection process, he agreed to go ahead. On September 10, 1965, Headquarters announced it would accept applications for a new class of pilot-astronauts.

Qualifications would be the same as they had been for the third group: a bachelor's

degree in science or engineering plus 1,000 hours of jet flying time or qualification as a test pilot. so

The announcement yielded 351 applicants—the largest number of pilots ever

to apply—of whom 159 met the basic requirements. Final screening during the

next four months produced the fifth class of astronaut candidates in April 1966:

19 pilots, 4 civilians and 15 military officers (see Appendix 6). Eleven of the fifth

group held advanced degrees, two of them doctorates.s'

Headquarters Expands the Ranks of Scientist-Astronauts

In mid-1966, when the scientist-astronauts had completed their flying training

and the third group of pilots had reported aboard, the astronaut corps numbered

67
Where No Man Has Gone Before

The fifth group of astronauts, selected in 1967. Seated, left to right: Edward G. Givens, Jr., Edgar

D. Mitchell, Charles M. Duke, Jr., Don L. Lind, Fred W Haise, Jr., Joe H. Engle, Vance D.

Brand, John S. Bull, and Bruce McCandless IL Standing, left to right: John L. Swigert, Jr., William

R. Pogue, Ronald E. Evans, Paul J. Weitz, James B. Irwin, Gerald P. Carr, Stuart A. Roosa,

Alfred M. Worden, Thomas K. Mattingly II, and Jack R. Lousma.

44 pilots* and 5 scientists (or 41 and 8, depending on how Cunningham, Schweickart, and Lind were classified)—a ratio that hardly supported the contention that

NASA was interested in sending scientists into space. At the Manned Spacecraft

Center, Deke Slayton and Bob Gilruth considered that they had quite enough

pilots to carry out the programs they could realistically envision and that pilots

could be trained to conduct the scientific work that was planned for the lunar

landing missions. At Headquarters, however, both Homer Newell in the Office

of Space Science and Applications and George Mueller in the Office of Manned

Space Flight thought otherwise. Newell, representing the science community,

wanted manned space flight to give more attention to science and less to the

engineering and piloting aspects of space flight. Mueller, trying hard to sell an

ambitious program of post-Apollo manned missions based largely on scientific

research in space, could use more scientists in the astronaut corps to give credibility to his appeals to Congress and to gain political support from scientists outside NASA.

In spite of Houston's reluctance to take on astronaut trainees who would have

little expectation of flying in space, Headquarters and the National Academy of

Sciences announced on September 26, 1966, that applications would be accepted

for a second group of scientists to be trained as astronauts. Selection would be

"Three astronaut trainees had been killed in flying accidents in the previous two years. Ted Freeman's

T-38 hit a goose near MSC on Oct. 31, 1964, causing both engines to flame out; he ejected but was

too low for his parachute to open. Elliott See and Charles Bassett, prime crew for Gemini IX, crashed

on Feb. 28, 1966, after missing a landing approach at St. Louis Municipal Airport under marginal

weather conditions.

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68 BLACK AND WHITE PE ;0 OOC-RAPH
Selecting and Training the Crews

made in about six months. 52 By the time they came aboard, however, post-Apollo

manned space flight programs were in a precarious position and the future looked

much less bright (see Chapter 7). The chances seemed good that any scientist

who went to the moon would be one of the first five already in the program.

Scientists in the Astronaut Corps

During 1965 and 1966 the Manned Spacecraft Center was busier than it had

ever been. Gemini flights were being launched from Cape Canaveral every other

month, on average. The Apollo command and service module was progressing,

not without difficulty, toward its first earth-orbital flight test. Mission planners

were hard at work on lunar-mission trajectories and contingency planning. Others

were studying photographs of the lunar surface from Ranger and Surveyor, looking for suitable landing sites and scrutinizing the barren surface for possible unwelcome surprises. Still to come were the extensive and detailed photographs from

Lunar Orbiter.

The Astronaut Office was as busy as the rest of the Center. All of the remaining "Original Seven," plus the "Next Nine" and 10 of "The Fourteen" (third

group) were training for and flying the Gemini missions. By the end of 1966 crews

for the first four Apollo earth-orbital missions had been assigned and were spending much of their time in design reviews and flight simulations. Russell Schweickart, one of the two scientists picked as a pilot, was serving as a kind of

ombudsman, mediating between the astronaut office and the experimenters who

had projects on Gemini. 53 His compatriot Walter Cunningham was sent to the

Falmouth conference in mid-1965 to explain to scientists some of the operational

factors that so strongly constrained a lunar landing mission .54 Two of the first

five scientist-astronauts, Joe Kerwin and Curt Michel, did not start basic astronaut

training during their first year, and so were assigned to represent the Astronaut

Office in matters concerning space suits and Apollo Applications experiments,

respectively. The other three, Owen Garriott, Ed Gibson, and Jack Schmitt, drew

assignments to Apollo in-flight experiments when they returned from flight training in mid-year, as did Don Lind, the scientist who came in as a pilot with the

fourth group. 55 Before long, however, Schmitt was working with academic and

Geological Survey scientists to improve MSC's training course in field geology.56

Schmitt was fortunate in having a scientific specialty that was widely accepted

as being important to Apollo. The other scientist-astronauts—except for Kerwin,

whose medical training could be applied to a number of space-related questions—

found themselves in an environment oriented almost exclusively to operational

and engineering concerns. Independent research was all but impossible; only Curt

Michel—whose academic home base was Rice University, less than an hour's drive

from MSC—made an attempt to sustain his previous research program. Owen

Garriott and Ed Gibson had to redirect their scientific interests into fields more

closely related to NASA's needs and plans.57

Apart from the time they had to devote to mastering astronautic skills, the scientists had to spend long hours on chores that sometimes seemed distinctly subsidiary to the main objectives. Among the duties of the Astronaut Office were

69
Where No Man Has Gone Before

The second class of scientists-astronauts, picked in 1967. Seated, left to right: Philip K. Chapman,

Robert A. R. Parker, William E. Thornton, and John A. Llewellyn. Standing, left to right: Joseph

P. Allen, Karl G. Henize, Anthony W. England, Donald L. Holmquest, Story Musgrave, William

B. Lenoir, and Brian T. O'Leary.

making public relations appearances, participating in design reviews, and contributing the astronaut viewpoint to engineering decisions; the scientist-astronauts

were expected to shoulder their share of these burdens just as the test pilots did.

Precious little time was left for keeping abreast of scientific developments, but

in Slayton's view this was a problem each astronaut had to solve for himself.58

Nobody was told what he could not do, but it was understood that the astronauts'

primary role was to become competent spacecraft operators, and whatever else

they wanted to do had to be compatible with that; as long as it was, the Astronaut

Office raised no objection to anyone's supplemental activities. 59 Those who made

the adjustment gained the respect of their pilot colleagues; those who expressed

annoyance at these ancillary duties and felt cheated out of scientific opportunities provoked some resentment. 60 After all, the door was always open.

When the first scientist-astronauts joined the program in 1965, it was not to

be expected that science could simply force its way into Apollo, which had yet

to fly its first test mission. Nonetheless, the scientific community wanted to make

it clear that scientist-astronauts were entitled to consideration of their professional

scientific requirements. In the fall of 1965 Headquarters's Manned Space Science

Division commissioned a study group to look into the matter of astronaut training. After some weeks of discussion with MSC officials, the group concluded that

the astronaut training program was much too short on science. More scientistastronauts should be brought in as early as possible, to provide more scientific

resources for the manned space flight program. The scientist-astronauts should

be used as in-house tutors for other astronauts who wanted to improve their scientific background. The Astronaut Office should actively encourage the astronauts

to develop their scientific skills by issuing a policy statement that "after engineering evaluation flights are completed and a spacecraft is considered operational,

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BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH 70
Selecting and Training the Crews

scientific proficiency shall be a prime requisite for at least one member of each

flight crew." Anything that seemed to increase their chances of flight assignment

was of vital interest to every person in the corps, the group had learned. (If Slayton wanted someone on a crew who could speak Mandarin Chinese, one of the

astronauts told the study group, they would all be studying Mandarin Chinese.)

Therefore, if MSC made it clear that scientific proficiency was desirable for crew

selection, even the pilot-astronauts could develop a passion for science.61

Perhaps the most difficult recommendation to implement was that the scientistastronauts be encouraged to keep up their research activity by affiliating with

an established research group. "The minimum amount of time required to maintain scientific proficiency," the group concluded, "is believed to be one day per

week for discussions, seminars, etc.," plus "one full week each month in which

the scientist-astronaut can become completely immersed in his research." The

group could not suggest how this could be squeezed into an already tight training schedule, but they noted that astronauts spent considerable time at seemingly trivial tasks in engineering design that might be relegated to others.

Paradoxically, however, these time-consuming chores seemed an indispensable

part of the program, since the astronauts were the only competent group having

an overview of the whole operation, and were "the only single group that another

astronaut will trust. "6z

Stressing as it did the importance of research to a scientist, the study group's

report could have been read as calling for a division of the corps into a test-pilot

group and a scientist group. The scientist-astronauts' need to spend more than

one-third of their time in research was received with some skepticism by the pilots,

whose reaction was later summarized by one of them:

... [Some] of those guys came in figuring, "I'll write my textbooks and my

thesis and teach [university courses] and I'll come by twice a week and be an

astronaut." Well, that didn't work.... We were devoting our lives to this

whole thing, and you couldn't devote anything less, I don't care what your

discipline was .63

The issue did not become divisive because the scientist-astronauts themselves

accurately perceived the situation they were in and most of them did not try to

make the system fit their unique needs. They saw the utility of the maxim, "if

you want to get along, go along."

The study group's report was received politely but coolly at MSC. 64 If Mercury

and Gemini had shown anything, it was that the unexpected may turn out to

be the norm, and no one knew how well a scientist, however skilled and intelligent, would react to sudden operational emergencies. On the other hand,

appropriate reaction to such situations was believed to be almost instinctive to

a good test pilot. Slayton and Gilruth, pondering the problem of landing an exotic

spacecraft on a strange and possibly dangerous surface, naturally adopted the

view that piloting skills were essential to mission success. Slayton repeatedly

expressed this view in plain language: nobody would benefit from a mission that

left a dead geologist (and his colleague in the lunar module) on the moon65

—implying that just such a thing might happen if the pilot of the lunar landing

module could not cope quickly enough with a sudden emergency. So it was up

to the scientists to prove that they could become competent astronauts, which

71
Where No Man Has Gone Before

most of them did. None would ever command an Apollo mission; none would

ever pilot a lunar module to a moon landing or a command module through reentry; but they showed themselves able to tackle the training program and willing

to share the less pleasant but essential duties of an astronaut. Of the first six scientists picked as astronauts, four eventually flew in space. Many of the others filled

essential roles in science planning and mission operations during the later Apollo

missions.

72
6

MISSION AND SCIENCE PLANNING:

1963-1966

Apollo's scientific objectives were always acknowledged, but scientists as well

as engineers understood that the primary goal was, in John Kennedy's words,

"landing a man on the moon and returning him safely to earth." As long as that

remained to be done, what the man (or men) would do on the lunar surface was

of secondary importance. The choice of a landing site, the time allowed for the

astronauts to explore the landing area, the instruments to be taken to the moon,

and the amount of lunar material to be brought back to earth, all were governed

by operational factors: what the engineers considered prudent in light of the overriding necessity to return the lunar explorers safely to earth.

Some scientists might object to the goal itself, but no one disputed the need

to achieve it safely. So while the engineers worked out their operations plans,

scientists concentrated on what they wanted done on the missions, on the understanding that their plans would have to yield to operational constraints until NASA

had accumulated some flight experience. By the time flight planners felt able to

relax some of those constraints, scientists would have prepared a long shopping

list of landing sites and scientific activities to answer some of their questions.

Input from the scientists in the early days was minimal. In 1961 Harold Urey,

responding to a request from Homer Newell, listed the general areas he would

like to see explored on the moon: high latitudes, where low temperatures might

allow water to exist; inside a large crater; in two maria of different types; near

one of the great wrinkles in the maria; and in a mountainous region.' Probably

many lunar scientists would have agreed with Urey's choices; but as Eugene Shoemaker recognized in a paper not long afterward, operational necessities would

certainly militate against many of those choices, especially for the early missions.2

Operational Constraints on Landing Sites

Picking a spot where a lunar module could land was a complex exercise requiring tradeoffs among dozens of factors. Predominant among these were the topography and texture of the lunar surface and the requirements of the lunar module's

guidance and navigation system. Other restrictions included the elevation of the

sun at the landing site; the temperature of the lunar surface; the radiation environment in space and on the moon; and the earth lighting conditions desired for

launch and recovery.3

The most restrictive mission rule, so far as landing sites for the earliest lunar

landing missions were concerned, was the requirement to place the spacecraft

73
Where No Man Has Gone Before

on a "free-return" trajectory—a flight path that allowed for failure of the service

module's main engine. If the service module engine should fail to put the spacecraft into lunar orbit, the joined CSM and LM would loop around the moon under

the influence of lunar gravity alone and head back to earth. This free-return trajectory required the spacecraft to leave earth orbit on a path that would bring it to

the moon within five degrees of latitude of the lunar equator. As early as mid-1963

MSC's Space Environment Division selected four sites from a list compiled by various lunar scientists, balancing scientific interest against this mission rule. A few

months later five more sites were picked for preliminary trajectory studies.4

The choice of lunar longitude for a landing site depended mainly on two considerations. To land at a predetermined site it was essential to determine the position and the flight path of the lunar landing craft as accurately as possible before

beginning the final descent to the surface. Navigational sightings taken from the

spacecraft on stars or on lunar surface landmarks provided the data from which

ground-based computers determined the spacecraft's orbit and calculated the

necessary course corrections. Accurate calculation of the orbit required the

astronauts to take sightings on five prominent lunar landmarks some distance

east of the landing site, and since the spacecraft went behind the moon on the

west and was out of radio and radar contact with earth until it emerged around

the eastern edge, those sightings could only be taken after earth contact was

reestablished. The position of the navigational landmarks had to be known with

an error of no more than 1,500 feet (450 meters). In mid-1963 this was not possible; at the eastern and western edges of the visible face, surface features might

actually be as much as 6,000 feet (1,800 meters) from where the best lunar maps

showed them. In light of these navigation requirements, early planning assumed

that a landing could be plotted no farther east than 40 degrees east longitude.

The "Apollo landing zone" thus defined extended to 40 degrees west longitude;

other operational considerations made a more westerly landing undesirable.'

The second limitation on the longitude of the landing site was the elevation

of the sun at the time of landing, which was the major factor considered in choosing the time of launch. To the pilot looking for a safe spot to land within the time

the lunar module could hover, it was vital that the sun be high enough in the

lunar sky to highlight the surface topography without casting long, confusing

shadows, but not so high that all surface detail was washed out. After landing,

the lunar explorers would also be hindered by a low or high sun. The moon has

no atmosphere to scatter light and therefore shadows are completely black; at

either low or high sun angles, visual observations can be difficult. Furthermore,

solar heating of the lunar surface varies with sun angle, complicating the problem of protecting the astronauts and the spacecraft against extreme temperatures.

Conditions would be best when the sun was 15 to 45 degrees above the horizon.

Mission planners could choose a launch time so that the lunar module would

land at a time when solar illumination was near optimum. Launch time was subject to the further constraint, however, that lunar missions had to leave the launch

pad well before last light in case an aborted launch required emergency recovery

operations.6

Two potential hazards to the lunar mission were more difficult to take into

account: meteoroids and radiation. In 1963 no one knew how dangerous

meteoroids were. It seemed prudent to avoid the predictable (and dense) swarms

74
Mission and Science Planning: 1963-1966

that recur annually, but the earth-moon system constantly encounters a smaller

number of randomly distributed meteoroids. The last three test flights of the

Saturn I launch vehicle carried meteoroid-detecting satellites into earth orbit to

determine how serious this hazard might be. Radiation (subatomic particles,

x-rays, and gamma rays) was more worrisome. Of special concern were the highenergy protons shot out from the sun during major solar flares, which could subject astronauts on the lunar surface to lethal doses of radiation.' Solar flares were

more troublesome because they are completely unpredictable. Protection was

extremely difficult and warning all but impossible: by the time a flare could be

detected on earth and its magnitude assessed, the most energetic (and dangerous) particles would already have reached the moon.

Within the zone defined by all these constraints—roughly 185 miles (300 kilometers) wide, stretching 1,500 miles (2,400 kilometers) along the moon's equator—

geologic factors would determine the choice of a landing site. Surface topography could not be known in any detail until Ranger and Surveyor provided information; but from lunar maps available in 1963, several landing areas* about 400

square miles (900 square kilometers) in size could be picked out where slopes

apparently were not too great and craters not too numerous. Balancing the need

to pick landing areas near the center of the moon (where lunar maps were most

accurate) against the requirement to spread the areas as far as possible along the

equator (which allowed maximum flexibility in launch dates), MSC's Space

Environment Division found 10 landing areas that seemed promising enough to

warrant reconnoitering by unmanned spacecraft and close scrutiny by mission

planners. The areas were spotted in a zone extending from the southeastern edge

of Mare Tranquillitatis (not far from where Apollo 11 would eventually land) to

a point northeast of Flamsteed crater in Oceanus Procellarum (some 375 miles

[600 kilometers] west of Apollo 12's touchdown point). Even among these, however, none was completely satisfactory with respect to all the known constraints.8

The effect of all these restrictions on the landing site was to reduce drastically

the number of consecutive days per month on which a lunar mission could be

launched. Considering only the two most important factors—sun angle and surface temperature—a given site could be reached only if the spacecraft were

launched during a 2.3-day period each month. Experience to 1963 indicated that

launch operations stood a good chance of being interrupted and launches postponed because of systems problems, and no one was willing to count on launching an Apollo mission within 2.3 days. But if flight planners could be prepared

to land at more than one site for each launch—changing to a more westerly target if launch delays prevented reaching the first site—the number of consecutive

days on which a launch was possible could be substantially increased. A Bellcomm study in early 1964 pointed out that choosing multiple sites for each launch

would make the program considerably more flexible, though it would require

certifying more sites through the Surveyor and Lunar Orbiter programs. That,

however, might cost no more than postponing a few launches by a month each.9

"A landing area was a fairly large segment of the lunar surface which appeared sufficiently level

and smooth to permit landing; a landing site was an ellipse a few hundred meters in size within which

the lunar module would actually touch down. A site would be picked for exact targeting after the

hazards of the landing area had been assessed.

75
Where No Man Has Gone Before

The greatest uncertainty in the program at that time, pointed up by all these

early studies, was the physical nature of the moon's surface. Astronomers held

widely different views of what a lunar module would encounter when it touched

down. Gerald Kuiper of the University of Arizona, one of the principal investigators in the Ranger project, was convinced that the surface was firm, though

it might be unconsolidated and might be covered by a thin layer of dust. Cornell

University astronomer Thomas Gold asserted, however, that the apparently

smooth areas on the moon were likely to be covered with a layer of fine dust

several meters thick, raising the prospect that the lunar module might sink out

of sight with only a short-lived dust cloud to mark its disappearance. 10 There was

the further possibility that the surface might be so cluttered with boulders and

pitted with small craters that the lander would find no level spot large enough

to land—or if it tried to land, would turn over or come to rest tilted at an angle

that made return to orbit difficult.

NASA had been hoping that Ranger's television photographs would shed light

on these questions, but by the end of 1963 Ranger had experienced its fifth failure in as many attempts and was undergoing a critical reappraisal (see Chapter

2). 11 Spacecraft engineers at Houston's Manned Spacecraft Center, meanwhile,

in spite of their real need for this information in designing the lunar landing module, had to go ahead without it. 12 Lunar Orbiter, still in the early stages, would

have to provide the information that mission planners needed for site selection.

The spacecraft builders could only hope that data from Surveyor, when they got

it, would not force them to revise their design too drastically.

Scientific Input to Site Selection

Early consideration of lunar exploration missions by the scientific community

focused more sharply on what should be done on the moon than on where it

would be done. The 1962 Iowa summer study paid particular attention to the scientific qualifications and training of the astronauts; the 1965 Woods Hole study formulated a list of 15 important scientific questions to be addressed by lunar

exploration, which would define the experiments to be conducted (see Chapter

3 and Appendix 3). Neither conference expressed any preference for landing sites,

although both pointed out the need to study highlands as well as maria. The

Woods Hole study report concluded that really effective geophysical and geochemical studies would require investigations at several locations up to 1,000 kilometers

(620 miles) apart.13

NASA had apparently made it quite clear to its outside scientific advisors that

science would have to take its results from wherever it could get them—at least

on the first few missions. The point was implicitly acknowledged at the Falmouth

conference on lunar exploration immediately following the 1965 Woods Hole

study. All of the earth-science study groups at Falmouth stressed the need to

supplement manned exploration with detailed study by unmanned lunar-orbiting

satellites to secure comprehensive scientific coverage of the lunar surface. 14 To

a considerable degree this emphasis on unmanned studies was simply a recognition of the relative cost-effectiveness of the two modes of exploration, but it was

76
Mission and Science Planning: 1963-1966

also a recognition of the operational limitations of Apollo and the resultant restrictions on landing sites. Even looking ahead to longer stays on the moon, the

groups urged development of surface vehicles and flying vehicles to increase the

effective range of exploration but did not mention any need to extend the limited

Apollo landing zone. It was assumed that operations could eventually be extended

to higher latitudes and more difficult sites, such as highlands and craters—

possibilities included in NASA's plans for extending Apollo, 15 which the Falmouth

participants used as the basis for their recommendations.

The fact was that in mid-1965 it was simply too early for scientific priorities

to be included in the selection of Apollo landing sites. Better information on the

lunar surface was needed, and better understanding of the operational constraints

on landing sites, before the scientific merit of any particular site could have any

effect on the choice.

Site Selection: Early Results from Unmanned Programs

Throughout 1965, site selection was one of Apollo's biggest concerns. Early in

the year the ill-starred Ranger project flew its second consecutive successful mission (in seven tries). Its photographs had enabled the Manned Spacecraft Center

to draw some generally encouraging conclusions about lunar topography, but

MSC's Space Environment Division concluded that Ranger photographs would

never enable them to certify lunar landing sites. They would, perhaps, allow

Apollo planners to rule out unsuitable areas, but picking a suitable landing site

by eliminating the unsuitable ones could take years. 16 Besides, Ranger provided

no information about the physical characteristics of the surface, which designers

of the lunar landing craft needed. 17 Surveyor was expected to soft-land on the

moon within a few months, and MSC was offering advice to Surveyor mission

planners at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory as to where the missions should land

to be of maximum use to Apollo. The Houston center was also working closely

with Langley's Lunar Orbiter program office in planning for optimum use of its

high-resolution cameras to locate sites for the lunar landing mission.

In efforts to satisfy the sometimes conflicting aims of lunar science and Apollo,

the Ranger project had been subjected to a great deal of pulling and hauling (see

Chapter 2). The result was that neither side was completely satisfied, and the

lunar scientists were particularly upset when Apollo preempted their experiments.

Intending to forestall similar problems with Surveyor and Lunar Orbiter, Homer

Newell established an ad hoc Surveyor/Orbiter Utilization Committee in the spring

of 1965, after the last Ranger mission (Ranger 9) successfully concluded that project. Newell appointed his deputy, Edgar M. Cortright, chairman of the committee, whose other members were chosen from Headquarters and center project

offices. *18

"Other members were: Everett E. Christensen, mission operations dir., OMSF; Victor C. Clarke,

Surveyor project office, JPL; Willis B. Foster, dir., Manned Space Science Div., OSSA; William A.

Lee, asst. mgr., Apollo spacecraft program office, MSC; Urner Liddell, chmn., Planetology Subcommittee of the Space Sciences Steering Committee, OSSA; Benjamin Milwitzky, Surveyor project dir.,

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Mueller, meanwhile, had discovered that no single organization was responsible for coordinating lunar data and evaluating candidate landing sites. Shortly

after Newell created the Surveyor/ Orbiter Utilization Committee, Mueller established an Apollo Site Selection Board in the Office of Manned Space Flight. Its

primary responsibility was to select and recommend candidate sites after considering all data required to ensure the success of the lunar landing. If the board

could not unanimously agree on a site, majority rule did not apply; Mueller

wanted all dissenting opinions recorded, and as he had done when he created

the Manned Space Flight Experiments Board (see Chapter 2), he reserved for himself the authority to make the final choice. Chaired by OMSF's Apollo program

director, Air Force Major General Samuel C. Phillips, the board included members from the Office of Space Science and Applications and the three manned

space flight field centers. *19

The overlapping membership of these two boards was yet another way of making sure that all interested parties were sufficiently involved in decisions when

scientific concerns and manned space flight objectives converged (and sometimes

conflicted) in a single program—which, some felt, had not been the case during

Ranger. MSC Director Bob Gilruth expressed satisfaction with this arrangement

and selected two of his engineers to serve on both boards.20

Since Surveyor and Lunar Orbiter were expected to fly their first missions within

a year, the Surveyor/ Orbiter Utilization Committee began work early. From late

August 1965 until the first launches in mid-1966 the committee met as frequently

as necessary to evaluate sites and set priorities. Lunar Orbiter project officials

initially outlined four types of missions, from a general survey of the moon to

photography of specific sites within the Apollo zone. Surveyor representatives

presented 40 possible landing sites for their first spacecraft, chosen on the basis

of independent evaluations by the Jet Propulsion Laboratory and the Geological

Survey based on the best available geologic maps and telescopic observations.

With little discussion the committee recommended that Lunar Orbiter's first mission give priority to Apollo site photographs. Surveyor, like Lunar Orbiter, had

objectives independent of its usefulness to Apollo, but its project managers seemed

less willing to allow their science goals to be subordinated to those of the lunar

landing program. After some discussion, the committee agreed on a set of ground

rules for selecting Surveyor landing sites. It was more important to have well-lit

photographs of some part of the lunar surface as soon as possible than to have

photographs within the Apollo zone; however, if a daylight landing was possible within that zone as well as outside it, the committee gave priority to an Apollo

site. If the first Surveyor could not land in sunlight at all, it should be put down

within the Apollo zone. The committee approved 14 of the 40 sites proposed for

the first Surveyor mission, then sent its recommendations to the project offices,

which would plan specific missions in more detail for review by the committee

and by OSSA's Space Sciences Steering Committee .21

OSSA; Oran W. Nicks, lunar and planetary programs dir., OSSA; Samuel C. Phillips, Apollo program dir., OMSF; Lee R. Scherer, Lunar Orbiter project dir., OSSA; and William E. Stoney, Space

Environment Div., MSC; and Israel Taback, Lunar Orbiter project office, Langley Research Center.

*Other members were: Cortright, Lee, Stoney, and Christensen, all members of the Surveyor/Orbiter

Utilization Committee; Ernst Stuhlinger, Research Projects Office dir., MSFC; and John P. Claybourne,

Future Studies Office, Design Engineering Branch, KSC.

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Mission and Science Planning: 1963-1966

Lunar Orbiter project officials set about making detailed plans for the first

mission that would satisfy Apollo's requirements. Surveyor managers, however,

were reluctant to comply with the committee's recommendations. They pointed

out that the ground rules required landing at a less-suitable site even though a

better one was available—a significant threat to mission success, JPL believed.

They would target the first Surveyor in compliance with the committee's ground

rules, but if the spacecraft had any trouble at an inferior site, JPL intended to

recommend strongly that the next mission be sent to a better one.22

America's first unmanned lunar explorer,* Surveyor I, launched on May 30, 1966,

landed 63 hours later approximately 90 kilometers north of the crater Flamsteed

in Oceanus Procellarum, at the extreme western fringe of the Apollo landing

zone. 23 Its first television pictures were encouraging to Apollo engineers: the surface was firm enough to support a lunar landing module and the surrounding

area was reasonably level. But beyond the immediate landing area the TV images

showed more than a few large boulders and craters. The pictures served to demolish some hypotheses about the lunar surface, notably Gold's idea that the maria

were covered with deep layers of dust. The surface was composed of fine particles, firmly packed and cohesive.24

Less than three months later, on August 10, Lunar Orbiter 1 roared off the pad

at Cape Canaveral; four days later the spacecraft was in orbit around the moon,

and by the end of the month it had photographed all nine of its assigned sites

in the Apollo landing zone. After completing its photography, Orbiter remained

in orbit, transmitting electronic data on gravity, meteoroids, and radiation around

the moon—another aspect of its service to Apollo and to lunar science.25

Malfunctions of the spacecraft and photographic system resulted in fewer good

photographs than project officials would have liked; but preliminary photographic

analysis began in late August and produced recommendations for the second Surveyor and Lunar Orbiter missions by the end of September. On the basis of crater density and regional slopes, 10 of 23 areas selected for detailed study seemed

satisfactory; 8 potential sites were recommended for detailed analysis .26 On September 29 the Surveyor/Orbiter Utilization Committee reviewed these results and

outlined the requirements for the second Orbiter mission.** Again Apollo sites

were stressed, particularly those types of terrain shown by Orbiter I to be the most

promising—landing areas smooth enough to land on, having little enough slope

in the approach path to avoid confusing the lunar module's landing radar system. Lighting conditions for photography would be chosen so that slopes of 7

degrees, and surface protuberances 6 feet (2 meters) in diameter and 1.5 feet (0.5

meter) high, could be detected in an area 20 feet (7 meters) square. 27

Lunar Orbiter II, modified to correct the problems encountered by its predecessor, was launched November 6, 1966, and its results far surpassed those of the

'But not the world's first; on Feb. 3, 1966, the Soviet Union, apparently intent on establishing space

"firsts," had logged another by landing Luna IX on the moon several hundred kilometers northwest

of Surveyor 1's landing site. Similarly the Russian Luna X became the first moon-orbiting satellite on

Apr. 3, 1966, four months before the U.S.'s Lunar Orbiter I. Luna X did not relay photographs to earth,

however.

"A small thruster failed on Surveyor 11 (launched on Sept. 20, 1966) after its midcourse correction

maneuver, causing the spacecraft to spin at one revolution per second. All attempts to correct the

malfunction failed and the lander crashed 250-300 km southeast of crater Copernicus.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

first mission. All of the 30 preplanned sites were photographed at medium and

high resolution, giving geologists and cartographers excellent material with which

to work. *28 The mapmakers believed that with more stereo photographs of the

quality returned by Lunar Orbiter II they could produce terrain maps with twoto three-meter contours. MSC's Apollo project office representatives were pleased

with the second mission's results and believed that one more flight would satisfy

their requirements for the first one or two lunar landings. Apart from some additional site photography, Apollo wanted one or more Orbiter spacecraft to stay

in lunar orbit long enough to allow precision tracking by earth-based radar. All

navigational calculations for the lunar module were to be made by ground-based

computers using data from the Manned Space Flight Network, Apollo's communication and tracking system, and early certification of this system was essential.29

In mid-December 1966 the Apollo Site Selection Board met to review the status

of site selection. In general the process was going well. Geologic interpretation

of the Orbiter photographs had already yielded some general conclusions about

the nature of the lunar surface and where the best landing sites were likely to

be found. Cartographers could not accurately determine slopes in the landing

area without steroscopic photography, but MSC gave higher priority to finding

a landing site with a minimum of rocks and craters; the slope of the terrain leading to a suitable site could be evaluated some other way. No serious problems

in site selection were apparent, and the board could only await the results of Lunar

Orbiter III and more detailed analysis of the available data.30

As 1967 began Apollo planners did not want much more from the unmanned

lunar investigation projects. They would use whatever additional data became

available, but priorities were changing. Three more Lunar Orbiters and four

Surveyors would be sent to the moon during the next 13 months, but after the

third orbiter they would do more for lunar science generally than for Apollo

specifically.31

Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments

MSC's original specifications for the lunar landing module included a generalized "scientific instrumentation system" to provide for selenological research.

Specific experiments could not be listed in 1962, but investigations of the lunar

atmosphere, surface, and interior were contemplated. The contractor would

include weight, volume, and power allowances for the instruments in the module design; specific instruments would be defined later.32

After the lunar module contractor, Grumman Aircraft Engineering Corporation, was selected in later 1962, MSC forged ahead with spacecraft design. Definition of the lunar surface experiments, which was the responsibility of the Office

of Space Sciences and Applications, proceeded at a much more deliberate pace,

'A famous by-product of the Lunar Orbiter 11 mission resulted from the need to advance film periodically even if no picture was taken. To avoid wasting that film, mission controllers were given a limited

choice of targets for these exposures. One was used to take an oblique picture of crater Copernicus

under almost ideal lighting conditions, showing hitherto invisible surface details. News media called

this "one of the greatest pictures of the century."

80
ORIGINAL PACE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH OGRAPH Mission and Science Planning: 1963-1966

Surveyor III bounced twice before finally landing, as this Apollo 12 photograph of its landing pad

shows. Imprints were as clear as they were when the unmanned spacecraft landed three years before.

The surface sampler, partially visible at upper left, was controlled from Earth. It scooped out several

trenches, seen just beyond the landing pad, and deposited a scoopful of lunar soil on the landing pad.

however (see Chapter 3). In early 1963 Houston expected that the first experiments would be selected by the end of the year; 33 but months went by with little

progress. By September, spacecraft engineers urgently needed data on the

experiments—weight, volume, and power requirements—to feed into lunar module design, but since nothing was available, MSC awarded a 10-month study contract to Texas Instruments to investigate instrumentation requirements for manned

lunar exploration .31 Headquarters was somewhat unhappy with this unilateral

action, but lunar module designers had to have the information and the scientific community seemed to be in no hurry to supply it. 35 The study provided an

indication of the type of instrumentation likely to be useful, and in the next few

months the spacecraft office worked out preliminary weight and volume allotments for the experiments: 250 pounds (113 kilograms) and 15 cubic feet (0.42

cubic meters) in the descent stage, which would be left on the moon; 80 pounds

(36 kilograms) and 3 cubic feet (0.085 cubic meters) in the ascent stage and in

the command module for a sample-return container and film. Requirements for

81
Where No Man Has Gone Before

electrical power and a source to supply it were yet to be determined.36

Throughout 1964 and the early part of 1965, Headquarters was busy studying

the requirements for lunar surface instruments and experiments, working with

outside scientific planning groups and with MSC (see Chapter 3). By May 1965

a tentative list of experiments had been devised and MSC had prepared a procurement plan for a "Lunar Surface Experiments Package" (LSEP). On George

Mueller's instructions MSC divided the procurement into two phases, a program

definition phase to be conducted by several contractors and an implementation

phase in which one of the contractors would build the experiments .37 The request

for proposals was sent out in June and three contractors for Phase I were picked

in August.38

As defined in Houston's request for proposals, the LSEP would be a

self-powered scientific station capable of collecting data for a year, returning information to earth by telemetry. It comprised a passive seismometer to record natural seismic events ("moonquakes"); an active seismic experiment, which would

record the effects of small explosive charges detonated on the lunar surface; a

lunar gravimeter, which was expected to show tidal effects useful in deducing

Technicians prepare a test version of the Apollo command and service module in the space environment simulation chamber at MSC. The lights mounted at left simulate solar irradiation. The chamber

walls can be cooled by liquid nitrogen to -193° C, simulating the radiation-absorbing void of space.

After the huge door is closed, the entire chamber, 55 feet in diameter and 90 feet high, can be pumped

down to less than one ten-millionth of atmospheric pressure.

82 ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND 'WHITE PHOTOGRAPH Mission and Science Planning: 1963-1966

the internal structure of the moon; an instrument to measure heat flow from the

moon's interior; radiation and meteoroid detectors; and a lunar atmospheric

analyzer. A 70-watt power module converted heat from a radioisotope fuel capsule into electricity by means of thermocouples. The instruments, their power

supply, and their data-transmitting equipment were limited to 150 pounds (68

kilograms) and 12 cubic feet (0.34 cubic meters) and were to be housed in the

lunar module's descent stage. The specifications called for three units which could

function on the moon at the same time without interfering with each other. 39 The

program directive assigning management responsibility to MSC specified three

packages, one to be flown on each of the first three lunar landing missions, plus

a flight-qualified spare. The first was to be delivered by July 1, 1967.40

Newell's office, meanwhile, had been evaluating proposals for the lunar surface experiments, and on October 1 transmitted authority to Houston to begin

negotiations with principal investigators for the lunar gravimeter and the active

seismic experiment. 41 A third experiment, investigation of the lunar magnetic field,

was tentatively approved on December 15. 42 The science complement for the first

Two lunar surface experiments, the superthermal ion detector (standing on tripod) and the coldcathode ion gauge (attached by cable, left), measured components of the moon's extremely tenuous

atmosphere.

83
Where No Man Has Gone Before

few missions was completed early in 1966 with the public announcement of seven

instruments and investigator teams.* Newell noted that the experiments fulfilled

the basic recommendations made the previous summer by the science teams at

the Falmouth conference and had been approved for flight by the Space Sciences

Steering Committee. Since the design of the instruments was not yet fixed it was

not certain what combination would be flown on each mission, but modular design

would allow each package to carry a group of instruments tailored to the constraints of its mission. The instrument collection was christened "Apollo Lunar

The "Swiss flag" (solar-wind collector) stands on the lunar surface outside the spacecraft Antares.

The aluminum foil collector trapped particles from the solar wind, which were then identified in the

laboratory of Dr. Johannes Geiss of the University of Berne, Switzerland. One of the simplest of

experiments, it was carried on all missions except Apollo 17. Note the almost feature-less lunar landscape at the Fra Mauro landing site.

*Passive lunar seismic experiment, Dr. Frank Press (MIT) and Dr. George Sutton (Lamont Geological Observatory); lunar triaxis magnetometer, Dr. C. P. Sonett (NASA Ames Research Center) and

Jerry Modisette (MSC); medium energy solar wind experiment, Dr. C. W. Snyder and Dr. M. N.

Neugebauer (JPL); suprathermal ion detector, Dr. J. W. Freeman, Jr. (Rice Univ.) and Dr. F. Curtis

Michel (MSC scientist-astronaut); lunar heat flow measurements, Dr. Marcus G. Langseth (Lamont

Observatory) and Dr. Sydney Clark (Yale); low-energy solar wind, Dr. Brian J. O'Brien (Rice); and

active lunar seismic experiment, Dr. Robert L. Kovach (Stanford Univ.) and Dr. Joel S. Watkins (USGS).

84 ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Mission and Science Planning: 1963-1966

Surface Experiments Package," or "ALSEP. 1143

In authorizing MSC to develop the lunar surface science package, Newell

assigned specific experiment combinations to each of the first four lunar landing

missions and classified each as primary or backup. The first two lunar Landers

would carry the magnetometer, the passive seismic experiment, the suprathermal ion detector, the medium-energy solar wind experiment, and the heat flow

instrument. Subsequent missions might carry different combinations, subject to

Newell's approval of any changes. MSC was authorized to spend $5.1 million

to develop flight-qualified prototype instruments and provide for operational and

support software and data analysis.''

All that remained to get instrument development under way was to select a

contractor. This was accomplished a month later when Headquarters picked the

Bendix Systems Division of Bendix Corporation, Ann Arbor, Michigan, for negotiation of a contract to build four ALSEP packages. Under a cost-plus-incentivefee contract NASA anticipated a total cost of about $17 million. 45 Bendix was not

inexperienced in lunar surface exploration, having worked with JPL from 1963

to 1965, and had made a major corporate commitment to that phase of the space

program. 46 Bendix's activity was actually twofold: it would build the "central station" that transmitted data to earth, and integrate the entire experiment package. Some of the instruments were to be built by Bendix's subcontractors to

principal investigators' specifications; other principal investigators chose to build

their own.

MSC Develops a Science Organization

Mercury project engineers at MSC had reluctantly allowed a few scientific exercises to ride their spacecraft, but this patched-on effort was of small importance.

To pave the way for worthwhile experiments in manned space flight, Homer

Newell persisted in urging scientists to devise experiments that would take advantage of man's presence. By the time Gemini was fully operational in early 1965

a fair number of scientific exercises had been proposed and accepted for flight.47

After Mercury, the Manned Spacecraft Center established an Experiments Coordinating Office to ensure that science plans were compatible with the spacecraft

and the operational constraints of the mission. 48 Within the Gemini Program Office

a Gemini Experiments Office supervised the science exercises undertaken in

Gemini.

As the Apollo science program evolved in 1964-65, the horizon of manned space

science expanded to include lunar surface experiments as well as in-flight (earthand lunar-orbital) science. In view of its new responsibility to oversee the development and integration of the Apollo experiments as well as integrating the Gemini

science, the Houston center decided to centralize the management of all manned

space flight experiments in a single office. In June 1965 MSC Director Robert R.

Gilruth appointed Robert O. Piland to head a new Experiments Program Office

within the Engineering and Development Directorate .49 Piland, formerly a research

scientist at Langley, had served briefly on the staff of James R. Killian, President

Eisenhower's science advisor, before joining the Manned Spacecraft Center in

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

1959. After contributing to the early planning and study efforts that led to the

Apollo spacecraft program, he was appointed deputy manager of MSC's Apollo

Spacecraft Program Office in 1962. His new office absorbed the staff and functions of both the Gemini Experiments Office and the Experiments Coordination

Office and immediately took over work on the ALSEP contracts.

Piland's job was to keep track of the complex requirements of the Apollo spacecraft and mission plans and see that the experimenters understood those requirements and adhered to them. His responsibilities extended from the conception

of the experiment to the management and distribution of data. The Experiments

Program Office worked with spacecraft engineers, flight planners, scientific investigators, and contractors in developing, testing, and integrating the experiments

into the missions.50

The in-flight experiments were an important part of Apollo lunar science, but

MSC's involvement with science was growing in other phases of the program

as well. During 1965 the Houston center was developing the concept of the lunar

receiving laboratory, which went into NASA's budget proposal for fiscal 1966

(see Chapter 4). When Apollo began to return samples of lunar material to the

earth, MSC's relations with the outside scientific community would expand considerably. Those samples were of incalculable scientific value, and scientists would

assuredly demand a say in how they were handled from the time they were collected on the moon to the time they were parceled out to investigators. Apollo

was about to create a relationship between MSC and the scientific world that was

new to both groups and would require careful handling.

There is not much room for doubt that MSC considered itself perfectly competent to manage the lunar samples with minimal help from the outside; the science

community could simply lay out its requirements and MSC, if it concurred, would

do the rest. Scientists, however, would never agree to stand in line at MSC's

dispensing window to receive their designated allotments of lunar material. The

deliberations of the various advisory groups and ad hoc committees convened

to define the lunar receiving laboratory make it plain that scientists saw the proper

staffing of the LRL as one of the most important questions of the entire project.

At the very least they would insist that a scientist of considerable repute be

appointed to head the laboratory and take charge of the sample analysis program,

with the advice and consent of the scientific community.

Besides the anticipated lunar science program, MSC had to recognize George

Mueller's increasing interest in a science-oriented post-Apollo program. Having

established an Apollo Applications Program (AAP) office in August 1965, Mueller

went to Congress the following spring to seek funding for it. 51 If he should get

what he was asking for, AAP would bring science to the forefront of manned

space flight; although MSC lacked the staff to support it (concurrently with its

Gemini and Apollo commitments) at the time, science clearly had to have a place

in Houston—otherwise MSC might find itself playing a support role to some other

center. At the end of March Faget announced the establishment of a Space Science

Office within his Engineering and Development Directorate, described as an

"interim arrangement pending development of a permanent scientific organization." For this purpose MSC regrouped a number of scattered center activities

around Piland's Experiments Program Office and under his direction. While most

of those activities were conducted in support of manned space flight operations

86 `Z
Mission and Science Planning: 1963-1966

and lunar exploration, the Space Science Office was also charged with developing, monitoring, and coordinating experiments for all manned space missions

involving science .52

The following week Gilruth sent MSC's plan for a more extensive reorganization to George Mueller. A new Space Medicine Directorate would consolidate

all center medical activities in a single organization. For science, a new Space

Science Division was to be established—not a science directorate on the same level

as Space Medicine or Engineering and Development, but an upgraded version

of the Space Science Office just established, still under Faget's jurisdiction. The

proposal more specifically included management of the lunar receiving laboratory, providing MSC's point of contact with the external scientific community,

and giving MSC scientists the opportunity to generate their own experiments.

Some 76 people from other offices would comprise the new division, and a scientist would be recruited to head it as soon as possible. Agreeing with Newell's

view that the division should concentrate primarily on one scientific field, Gilruth suggested that lunar and earth sciences would be its most appropriate disciplines. 53 For the next several months Headquarters and MSC discussed the

proposed reorganization and the question of a director for science at MSC. 54

While those discussions were going on, Headquarters was working to clarify

agency-wide management responsibilities for future manned flight activities.

Apollo Applications, emerging as the most likely successor to Apollo, embraced

a much greater variety of scientific projects than Apollo and appeared to require

more interlocking of effort among the field centers (chiefly MSC and Marshall

Space Flight Center) as well as Headquarters program offices. Accordingly, on

July 26 Deputy Administrator Robert C. Seamans divided responsibility for

prospective programs among the various entities—in effect ratifying the arrangement Homer Newell and George Mueller had been working under since 1963

(see Chapter 3). Mueller's Office of Manned Space Flight was to be responsible

for the conduct of Apollo and AAP missions, developing and funding the experiments that were selected by Newell's Office of Space Science and Applications.

Seamans went one step further, assigning to each center primary responsibility

for specific areas: Marshall to develop the Apollo telescope mount (a major component of Apollo Applications), Goddard to handle atmospheric science, meteorology, and astronomical experiments, and MSC to manage the Apollo lunar surface

experiments package, lunar science, earth resources, and life-support systems.

Future assignments would depend on center capabilities and NASA's long-range

plans."

In November, "in response to the growing significance and responsibilities of

the Center in the area of science and applications," Houston informed Headquarters that it proposed to create a Science and Applications Directorate, on the same

organizational level as those for Engineering and Development and Medical

Research and Operations. (At long last Homer Newell's view of the importance

of science at MSC prevailed.) It would subsume the functions of Space Science

Division and would collect all space- and lunar-science-related functions of the

center, along with the many people scattered throughout the center who were

then engaged in scientific work in support of Apollo. The directorate would be

responsible for planning and conducting all MSC programs in space science and

applications and would be the center's point of contact with the scientific world

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

outside. Pending appointment of a permanent director, Bob Piland, named as

deputy director, would run the operation .56 Administrator James Webb approved

the new MSC organization on December 23, 1966.57

After several months of searching, Gilruth announced on February 17, 1967,

selection of a director of science and applications: Wilmot N. Hess, chief of the

Laboratory for Theoretical Studies at Goddard Space Flight Center. Hess was a

nationally recognized scientist whose major scientific interest was high-energy

nuclear physics and space radiation studies .18 A space physicist seemed a curious choice in view of the scientific responsibilities foreseen for the center, but

Hess was considered to be a competent administrator, and he had the scientific

stature to give credibility to Houston's scientific efforts.

Apollo at the End of 1966

By the time 1966 drew to a close the Apollo spacecraft and Saturn launch vehicle

projects had been through some rough times. The lunar landing craft, under contract to Grumman Aircraft Engineering Company of Bethpage, New York, was

slow to reach design maturity and Grumman had considerable difficulty with

the main propulsion engines, landing gear, and radar systems. Across the country in southern California, North American Aviation's Space & Information Division had its own set of problems with the command and service module.19

North American had other problems as well, notably with the S-II second stage

of the mammoth Saturn V launch vehicle. The S-II was similar to Saturn V's third

stage (the S-IVB) in that it used cryogenic propellants (liquid hydrogen and liquid oxygen at extremely low temperatures), but it was much larger and presented

more difficult manufacturing problems. 60 Besides, North American lacked the

experience that the S-IVB stage contractor, Douglas Aircraft Company, could draw

on from its prior development of the smaller S-IV stage of Saturn 1. In 1965 North

American's troubles in managing its two programs—especially the S-II—were the

most serious obstacle to achieving the end-of-the-decade goal for Apollo. During

1965 the company's handling of its Apollo and Saturn contracts drew extraordinary attention from Headquarters and from Marshall Space Flight Center, culminating in a top-to-bottom evaluation of NAA's program by teams of NASA

experts. In December Maj. Gen. Samuel C. Phillips, Apollo program manager

at Headquarters, sent a devastating critique of NAA's program management to

his bosses and to the company's executives .61

The overall picture for manned space flight was not bleak, however. During

1965-66 the Gemini program had built a solid foundation for operations, sending

missions into earth orbit at an average of one every two months. Important questions about the human ability to function in zero gravity were settled. Rendezvous

was demonstrated in so many ways it seemed strange that anyone had ever

doubted it was feasible. Saturn and Apollo enjoyed some successes as well. Marshall Space Flight Center proved out the Saturn I and IB launch vehicles—

important junior partners to Saturn V—and put up earth-orbiting satellites to dispel worries about the hazard from micrometeoroids in space. By the end of 1965

all three stages of the Saturn V had been successfully (but separately) test-fired,

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Mission and Science Planning: 1963-1966

and the Manned Spacecraft Center had proved that the Apollo launch escape

system worked, easing some concerns about aborts on the launch pad.61

Since the status of science in the Apollo program had been nebulous in 1963,

the next three years saw substantial progress. Widespread debate over the goals

of manned space flight and the validity of the Apollo commitment during the

summer of 1963 had given the Office of Manned Space Flight the incentive to

accommodate science to some degree in its programs. The Office of Space Science

and Applications took the lead in creating an office to coordinate the efforts of

the two program offices. The major decisions concerning mission mode and spacecraft had been made when OMSF's new director, George Mueller, took over in

late 1963; he could therefore direct a good deal of his attention to other matters.

Mueller, unlike his predecessor, was not perceived as hostile to scientific investigations in manned space flight, although it took some time for the scientists to

decide that he was basically supportive of their efforts.63

Advice from the scientific community was brought to a clearer focus between

1962, when the Iowa summer study said little about manned lunar exploration,

and 1965, when the Woods Hole and Falmouth conferences defined the objectives of lunar science in more specific terms. After the Woods Hole study posed

15 scientific questions about the moon that bounded Apollo science, study teams

defined the essential experimental measurements and the instruments with which

they would be made. Additional refinements to these preliminary definitions led

to specific studies for the lunar surface experiments package, which was put under

contract in 1966.

Houston's Manned Spacecraft Center was finally brought around to at least

an acceptance of science by the end of 1966. In the Gemini program it demonstrated a willingness to incorporate scientific exercises into its operational missions and worked out a system for assessing the compatibility of experiments

with manned programs. Whether or not these exercises were scientifically important, they brought the scientists and the flight planners together so that they might

better understand each other's problems. On its own initiative the Houston center proposed and undertook to develop a laboratory in which to receive, catalog,

and conduct preliminary scientific examination of the returned lunar samples.

After getting its two spacecraft projects more or less in hand, MSC assumed

the responsibility for directing development of the lunar surface experiments and

then created a directorate in which (it might be hoped) the center could ultimately develop its own science program. And finally it yielded to the clamor of

the scientific community in picking its first class of astronauts from the ranks of

promising young scientists. By the end of 1966, in fact, MSC was preparing to

select a second group.

On another front, MSC was cooperating with Headquarters in selecting the

sites where the lunar missions would land. MSC worked with the Apollo Site

Selection Board and Langley's Lunar Orbiter project, supplying its criteria for

landing sites and evaluating the information gleaned from Surveyor and Lunar

Orbiter. As 1966 ended, the list of candidate sites for the last Lunar Orbiter missions had been considerably narrowed.

At the beginning of 1967 those who wanted to see science become an integral

part of manned space flight could feel that some progress had been made in three

years. Spacecraft engineers and mission planners could feel that many of their

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

big problems were behind them. In spite of many problems with the command

module, the first manned earth-orbital mission was only weeks away from launch.

On August 26, 1966, spacecraft 012 arrived at Kennedy Space Center to begin

a first-article checkout that would last through the end of the year.64

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7

SETBACK AND RECOVERY: 1967

Early in 1967 Project Apollo suffered its worst setback when all three members

of the first crew to fly in an Apollo spacecraft died in a fire. The tragedy forced

a reexamination of the project, especially NASA's supervision of its prime contractors, and delayed the first lunar landing by some unknown length of time.

The fire had no direct effect on the lunar science program other than to provide vitally needed time to catch up to the launch schedule. The experiments package, the selection of landing sites, and the lunar-surface geology program all put

the time to good use.

Death at the Cape

On the afternoon of January 27, 1967, Virgil I. Grissom, Edward H. White I1,

and Roger B. Chaffee, prime crew of Apollo mission AS-204, * were reclining in

spacecraft 012 atop their Saturn IB launch vehicle at Kennedy Space Center's

launch complex 34. Flight and launch crews were conducting a "plugs-out" simulation to determine that the spacecraft would function properly on internal power.

The test had been frequently delayed by problems with communications and the

environmental-control system; these were exasperating but not abnormal and certainly not a portent of the day's climactic event. Just after 6:31 p.m. horrified

ground crews heard a cry of alarm over the communications circuits and saw a

bright glow through the spacecraft window. Seconds later the command module

ruptured, filling the "white room" at the end of the access arm on the service

structure with thick clouds of smoke. Technicians worked frantically to pry open

the hatch but were repeatedly driven back by the smoke and heat. By the time

they got the hatch open Grissom, White, and Chaffee were dead. A few minutes

later medical help arrived, only to find that nothing could be done.** Officials

quickly secured the launch pad and began the grim task of removing the bodies.

NASA Administrator James Webb immediately appointed Floyd L. Thompson,

*Unofficially called "Apollo L, the flight was more commonly referred to as "AS-204"—the fourth

flight of a Saturn IB vehicle (Saturn IB flights were numbered in the 200s, Saturn V missions in the

500s). When flights were resumed, mission numbers started with Apollo 4, for reasons that were

never completely clear.

**Postmortem examination disclosed that the crew had died of asphyxiation by toxic fumes produced

by incomplete combustion of the synthetic materials in the spacecraft. All had been burned, but not

severely enough to cause death.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

director of Langley Research Center, chairman of an investigating board* to

determine the cause of the tragedy.l

Manned space flight unquestionably entailed hazards, and it can be argued that

much of the public's fascination with the early manned space flight programs

grew out of the perception that it was an exceptionally dangerous business. 2 This

perception somewhat exaggerated the true situation. Space flight was dangerous,

but NASA engineers at every level clearly realized the hazards and went to considerable lengths to minimize them. All the astronauts were aware of the risks

and considered them acceptable. Not a man among them would have stayed in

the program if he had believed his life was being wilfully risked for the sake of

an ephemeral propaganda triumph. Emphasis on producing safe, reliable hardware permeated the program. The astronauts were active participants in design

and development; frequent astronaut visits to contractor plants helped to ensure

a workable design. Crewmen who had been assigned to flights followed their

own spacecraft through assembly and testing. Not less important, the visits

impressed on contractor employees the fact that the lives of real people—not

anonymous consumers, but people they knew—depended on every component

of the system.

One result was that in 5 years 19 Americans had flown 16 earth-orbital missions

without serious mishap. Although disaster had flirted with both Mercury and

Gemini,** flying in space seemed to be no more dangerous than piloting highperformance aircraft—perhaps less so, for the only astronauts to die before the

fire were killed in airplane accidents.

Not surprisingly, most attention had been focused on the dangers in space.

Immediately after the fire, Administrator James Webb expressed a widely held

view when he said, "Although everyone realized that some day space pilots would

die, who would have thought the first tragedy would be on the ground [emphasis

added]? "3 Perhaps the AS-204 fire was more traumatic because it did occur on

the ground. Whatever the reason, public reaction was vigorous. After a brief

period of shock, the nation's press began to ask questions, not only about the

cause of the fire but about the wisdom of the manned lunar exploration program.'

While Thompson's investigating board probed the charred spacecraft and traced

its history from California to the Cape, NASA clamped a tight lid on speculation

as to possible causes, issuing only brief interim reports. In spite of calls for an

independent congressional investigation, both the Senate and House space committee chairmen agreed to defer public hearings until NASA could complete its

own probe.5

*Other members were astronaut Frank Borman, MSC; Maxime A. Paget, MSC; E. Barton Geer

Langley; Col. Charles F. Strang, USAF; Robert W. Van Dolah, U.S. Bureau of Mines (replacing Franklin

A. Long of Cornell University, who had represented the President's Science Advisory Committee);

George C. White, Jr., NASA Headquarters; John J. Williams, Kennedy Space Center; and George T.

Malley, Langley, counsel. George W. Jeffs of North American Aviation was asked to serve as a

consultant.

**Grissom's Mercury capsule flooded and sank when its hatch accidentally blew off as he awaited

recovery from the second suborbital Mercury flight. On Mercury's second earth-orbital mission Scott

Carpenter overshot his landing area by nearly 300 kilometers, and for a while his fate was in question. Gemini had produced two incidents: Gemini VI's Titan vehicle shut down immediately after

ignition, leading to a few anxious minutes, and a malfunctioning thruster set the Gemini VIII spacecraft spinning wildly, requiring premature termination of the mission.

92
Setback and Recovery: 1967

In early April the investigating board submitted its report concluding that the

precise point of origin of the fire could not be positively identified. Investigators

had found physical evidence of electric arcing from wires with damaged insulation. Sometime during manufacture or testing, apparently, an unnoticed incidental

contact had scraped the insulation from a wire, thus providing the path for a

spark—exactly where, the investigators could not say, but the evidence pointed

to a spot near Grissom's couch where components of the environmental control

system had repeatedly been removed and replaced during testing.' The arc had

ignited flammable material and in the pure oxygen atmosphere* the resulting

fire had spread with astonishing rapidity.

Contributing to the disaster were an appalling number of factors that could only

be called oversights, to put the best possible face on it. The simulation had not

been considered hazardous because neither the launch vehicle nor the spacecraft

contained any fuel, nor were the Saturn's pyrotechnics installed; consequently

no emergency equipment or personnel were at the launch pad. Wiring carrying

electrical power was not properly protected against accidental impact. Far too

much flammable material—some 70 pounds (32 kilograms) of nylon netting, polyurethane foam, and Velcro fastening—had been haphazardly spread around the

command module, creating unobstructed paths for flames. No provision had been

made for the crew to get out of the spacecraft quickly in case of emergency. The

hatch could not be opened in less than 90 seconds. Neither the board's report

nor the congressional hearings that followed could explain why so many technical experts had failed to notice that spacecraft 012, as it sat on the launch pad

on January 27, was simply a bomb that needed only a trigger to set it off. Confident in Apollo's design approach, which emphasized eliminating the possibility

of ignition by electrical components, and unaware of the intensity and speed of

fires fed by pure oxygen, both NASA and contractor engineers had grossly

underestimated the consequences of a flaw in their hardware or procedures. Many

other problems had demanded attention throughout the fabrication of this prototype command module, and—perhaps lulled by success in past programs—

everyone had overlooked the hazards that were accumulating in the spacecraft.

In the months following NASA's investigation, responsibility for these conditions was liberally distributed among contractors and NASA managers alike.

Charges of sloppy workmanship and poor quality control by the spacecraft

contractor—which NASA should have corrected—seemed justified. Critics asked

again whether the "end-of-the-decade" goal was, for no good reason, pushing

Apollo out of control and whether there really was a "space race" that justified

such haste. James Webb and George Mueller, who took most of the heat of Congress's investigation, doggedly and successfully defended the program's objectives as well as its schedule, aided by generally sympathetic congressional committees.'

The Apollo project survived the fire shaken but undeterred. NASA continued

to aim for a lunar landing before 1970, but management (especially contractor

supervision) would be tightened, procedures (especially safety precautions) would

*During the simulation, as it would be at launch on a real mission, the command module atmosphere

was pure oxygen at 16.4 pounds per square inch (113 kilonewtons per square meter) pressure-10

percent above normal atmospheric pressure.

93
Where No Man Has Gone Before

be thoroughly investigated, combustible materials in the spacecraft would be

rigorously controlled, and new and less flammable materials (particularly fabrics)

would be sought."

Perhaps the greatest damage was to NASA's standing with Congress. The space

agency no longer seemed larger than life, especially to members who had never

been strongly committed to either side of the manned space flight debate. 9 Webb

left an atypically bad impression in his appearances before the Congressional committees. He responded testily to suggestions that the Thompson board, made

up of NASA's own people, was unlikely to get to the bottom of the accident,

and was not cooperative when committee members asked for a report on the performance of the spacecraft contractor.10

The Thompson board pointed out numerous deficiencies in the design of the

spacecraft and recommended changes in management and quality control

throughout the program. Even while the board was preparing its report NASA

was hard at work evaluating changes. Obviously the command and service module needed the most attention, but the lunar module was equally rigorously

scrutinized, and no aspect of the Apollo program was spared detailed examination for hazards."

How much the lunar landing would be set back no one knew.* Throughout

1966 the Office of Manned Space Flight had been working toward two unmanned

test flights of the Saturn V starting in 1967, to be followed by three manned flights

to check out the launch vehicle, both spacecraft, and the complex support

system for the lunar landing. NASA's public position was that "lunar flights,"

orbital or landing, would begin before the end of 1969. Planning schedules

showed several "simulated" lunar missions—which might orbit the moon but

not land—the first of which might be flown as early as October 1967 on AS-503

or as late as August 1968 on AS-506. The initial landing might be assigned to

AS-506, but the earliest mission unambiguously categorized in OMSF's master

schedules as a "lunar mission" and not a "simulation" was AS-507, scheduled

for November 1968.12

The fire wrecked that timetable, and for four months afterward all monthly

OMSF launch schedules were stamped "UNDER REVIEW." At the end of May

1967, a new master schedule showed only four Saturn V flights preceding the

first lunar landing: two unmanned, to check out the launch vehicle; one earthorbital flight to gain experience in simultaneous operation of the command and

service module and the lunar module; and one lunar mission simulation. The

Saturn V flights were interspersed among eight Saturn IB missions; as many of

these would be flown as necessary to discover and correct flaws in the spacecraft

and operations. The May schedule still showed the first landing in the last quarter of 1968, but no one was authorized to mention any date more specific than

"before the end of 1968" in public.13

*Two years later Mueller told a congressional subcommittee that the fire had delayed the first manned

flight by 18 months, but in the interim progress was made in areas other than the command and

service module.

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Setback and Recovery: 1967

The Fire and the Science Program

In March 1966, when NASA contracted with the Bendix Corporation to build

the Apollo lunar surface experiments package (ALSEP), delivery of the first flightqualified set of instruments was scheduled for July 1967, seven months before

AS-504, the first Saturn V mission to which an experiment package was assigned."

It was an optimistic schedule, even though preliminary design work for several

of the experiments had already been funded by NASA grants. 15 By late fall the

package was in schedule trouble. Two instruments were experiencing minor

difficulties, the central data-collecting station was in a critical state, and the magnetometer was having serious development problems. 16 In late December 1966

Headquarters was considering shifting certain instruments from the second mission to the first on account of the lagging magnetometer. Scientists were particularly anxious about this, because the data from the magnetometer were essential

to interpreting the results of two other experiments. Experimenters urged that

a search be started for a simpler magnetometer in case Ames's sophisticated instrument could not be made ready in time. 17

Besides the experiments themselves, the radioisotope thermoelectric generator (RTG) required work. The RTG consisted of a large "fuel cask," packed with

plutonium-238, supplying heat to an array of thermocouples that produced electricity for the instruments. Project engineers were having difficulty assuring that

the radioactive fuel would not be dispersed into the atmosphere in case of an

abort during launch. 18 At the critical design review the astronauts discovered

several hazards to the crew member who had to remove the hot (500°C, 932°F)

fuel capsule from its storage space in the LM and insert it into the thermocouple

assembly while setting up the instruments. Redesign of the package or revision

of procedures was necessary."

As the status of Apollo cleared in the months following the fire, a degree of

optimism returned to the experiments schedule. In July 1967 the first lunar

mission was AS-506, set for late November 1968, and the experiments for

the first four lunar missions were no longer lagging. 20 Even so, problems remained.

In late June 1967 Leonard Reiffel of Apollo Program Director Sam Phillips's

scientific staff wrote Phillips suggesting that "we do not schedule the ALSEP

for the first lunar landing." Reiffel cited the problems of the magnetometer, the

many unknowns that could affect the deployment and function of the experiments, and the weight problems that were hindering production of the lunar module. He offered his personal opinion that, except for the seismometer, the scientific

experiments would not yield fundamental information about the moon that would

be of immediate importance. All in all, Reiffel thought, the program might be

better served in the long run by waiting until the second mission to fly the full

complement of surface instruments: "An uncrowded time line on the lunar surface

for the first mission would seem to me to be more contributory to the advance of science

than trying to do so much on the first mission that we do nothing well [emphasis in

the original]. "21

Reiffel's misgivings about the astronauts' work load and the time available for

surface activities were not off target. Early in development, Jack Schmitt, one of

the astronauts providing crew advice to the lunar surface experiments designers,

discovered an undesirable legacy from earlier conceptual work on the instruments:

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

... In the early days, the crews ... were worried about having enough to

do on the moon.... In the early design stages they [the ALSEP designers]

took to heart the crew input to "give us something to do," and it was a monster.... The way they had that thing put together it was going to take forever to deploy.

This design philosophy was intended to give substance to the argument that

men were essential in lunar exploration, but to Schmitt it was the wrong approach.

Precious time on the moon should not be wasted in the purely mechanical activity

of deploying the instrument package. He and other astronauts worked hard to

improve the design of the package so that deploying it did not take so much time,

but it was slow going .22

Even before Reiffel's pessimistic evaluation of the science prospects for early

flight, Phillips had been worried about the progress of the first instrument package. In early June he appointed a review team to look into the development of

the magnetometer and another to examine the safety problems with the RTG.23

The magnetometer investigation team found that the technically sophisticated

project had encountered severe schedule delays and cost overruns, but concluded

that Ames and its contractor had arrested the project's negative trends. Still, the

magnetometer clearly could not be ready for the first scheduled lunar landing.

A simpler instrument proposed by investigators at Goddard Space Flight Center

was briefly considered, but it could not meet the schedule either and was dropped.

At the end of August 1967, Phillips recommended to Deputy Administrator Robert

Seamans that the magnetometer be taken off the first ALSEP and replaced by

a laser reflector, a completely passive experiment which was under development.

The prospects seemed good that a complete ALSEP package as originally planned

could be flown on the second lunar landing mission. 24 Ames's magnetometer

remained in the schedule for the first landing throughout 1968, however.25

Without doubt the delay in the first lunar landing caused by the Apollo fire

relieved some of the pressure on the ALSEP experimenters and developers. For

all its human and economic cost, the 204 accident forced a pause that was put

to good use by those segments of the program (such as the science projects) that

were less vitally affected by the fire than the spacecraft. The command module

was suffering from many problems in early 1967, and it can be argued that sooner

or later something as serious as the fire would have halted progress. The tragedy

was that the price of straightening out the program was three lives.

PSAC Examines Post-Apollo Science Plans

During 1966, while the lunar landing program still seemed on track for successful

completion within the decade, the question of a manned program to follow

Apollo* took on considerable importance. Administrator James Webb was not

*At the time no milestone clearly marking the end of Apollo had been defined. It could be argued

that the first lunar landing would represent completion of Apollo and that subsequent missions would

be part of Apollo Applications. Most officials seemed to think of Apollo as comprising the first two

or three lunar landings and AAP as including all lunar exploration more extensive than those landings could accomplish.

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Setback and Recovery: 1967

inclined to propose another ambitious project, apparently preferring to build a

strong, versatile organization and wait for the country to tell NASA what to do

with it. George Mueller, Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight, could

not wait. Whatever his office was going to do after the first few lunar missions

had to be started very soon or the expensive infrastructure built for Apollo would

begin to deteriorate. But Lyndon Johnson's administration had begun to feel the

fiscal pinch of an expanding war in Southeast Asia, the president's Great Society programs, and congressional concern for the foreseeable budget deficits. As

a result, Mueller's post-Apollo plans were not approved by the White House in

fiscal 1967. Though nothing better seemed in prospect and the president was reluctant to let manned space flight wither away, a decision on AAP was postponed."

As part of the efforts to define suitable goals for the nation's space program

after Apollo was accomplished, the President's Science Advisory Committee

(PSAC) undertook to evaluate NASA's post-Apollo plans. Its report, completed

in 1966, concentrated on agency-wide plans and the decades following 1970; but

it had some advice concerning later Apollo missions as well. About lunar exploration, PSAC warned that

the repetition of Apollo flights for more than two or three missions will be

unjustifiable in terms of anticipated scientific return without the modification

of the system to provide for additional mobility on the Moon's surface and

the capacity to remain on the surface for a longer period of time.

After a few initial flights, NASA should adapt the remaining spacecraft and

launch vehicles to those ends—for example, by converting the lunar module to

an unmanned supply vehicle that could be stocked with expendables, scientific

equipment, and mobility aids to support explorations of 7 to 14 days. Manned

lunar missions following the first few should be conducted at the rate of not more

than one or two per year, carefully coordinated with an expanded program of

unmanned exploration to reduce the overall cost of lunar scientific exploration

and to investigate areas that Apollo could not safely reach .27

PSAC's report, published in February 1967, attracted little public notice in the

aftermath of the fire. Its recommendations on Apollo exploration, though brief,

were not overlooked by officials at the Manned Spacecraft Center, however. In

spite of its preoccupation with the first lunar landing, MSC turned attention to

the later lunar missions as soon as it could .211 Shortly after taking over his duties

as Director of Science and Applications at MSC, Wilmot Hess sought the help

of lunar scientists in planning scientific exploration of the moon.

Lunar Science and Exploration: Santa Cruz, 1967

Following the pattern set by OSSA and the Space Science Board, Hess organized

a summer study in 1967 to discuss lunar exploration. On July 31 more than 150

scientists and NASA officials met on the campus of the University of California

at Santa Cruz to provide the expert advice NASA would need to conduct an effective lunar exploration program. The stated objectives of the conference were to

prepare detailed science plans, establish an order of priority for lunar investiga97
Where No Man Has Gone Before

tions, and recommend major programs to develop instrumental and technological support for the advancement of lunar exploration. Eight disciplinary working

groups* were organized, each focusing on a different field within the range of

scientific interest in the moon.

Unlike the Woods Hole and Falmouth conferences of 1965, which dealt with

broader questions of lunar science (see Chapter 3), the Santa Cruz conference

concentrated on specifics. Hess tasked the working groups to prepare working

papers on particular aspects of lunar exploration: the scientific requirements for

lunar surface mobility and mission duration; the scientific use of lunar orbital

flights; the scientific utility of planned major hardware items; and mission profiles for trips to the craters Alphonsus, Aristarchus, and Copernicus. Working

groups were to study both manned and automated systems and to combine both

modes of exploration to optimize the scientific return. They were to consider how

to use current spacecraft and systems with minimal modification, or major hardware items already under consideration, not devise new systems that would

require substantial development.29

Hess opened the conference by summarizing the results of the past two years'

work. By way of assessing its own progress in attaining the goals laid out by the

Falmouth conference, MSC had tabulated the recommendations made at Falmouth

and the extent to which they had been implemented in a document called

"Falmouth Plus Two Years, or How Much Nearer is the Whale to the Water?"**

According to this tabulation, which Hess used in his summary, only 9 percent

of the Falmouth recommendations for Apollo had been rejected (after consideration); 55 percent had been implemented and 8 percent tentatively accepted. Only

6 percent had not yet been acted on. The rest were in various stages of planning

or implementation. For post-Apollo recommendations, no action had been taken

on 29 percent, 9 percent had been implemented, and 62 percent were in various

stages of study.31

After two weeks of discussion the working groups made individual reports and

produced a consolidated set of recommendations (see Appendix 3). On several

points all the groups substantially agreed. For manned exploration the most

immediate need was to extend the 500-meter (0.3-mile) range of an astronaut on

foot to more than 10 kilometers (6.2 miles) by means of some kind of surface mobility aid. Some favored a wheeled vehicle; others preferred a one- or two-man

rocket-propelled flying vehicle, which would enable the astronauts to take sam-

"The working groups and their chair persons were: Astronomy, L. W. Frederick, Univ. of Virginia;

Bioscience, Melvin B. Calvin, Univ. of California, Berkeley; Geochemistry, Paul W. Gast, Columbia

Univ.; Geodesy and Cartography, Charles Lundquist, Smithsonian Astrophysical Observatory; Geology, Alfred H. Chidester, U.S. Geological Survey; Geophysics, Frank Press, Mass. Institute of Technology; Lunar Atmospheres, Francis Johnson, Southwest Center for Advanced Studies; Particles and

Fields, D. J. Williams, Goddard Space Flight Center.

**A footnote to the title identified the whale as "Neobalaena shoemakerensis." At Falmouth Eugene

Shoemaker, impatient with the lack of progress toward defining Apollo's scientific goals, had compared efforts "to make something happen, like getting some science on Apollo," to trying to push

a beached whale back into the ocean." If you push very hard you make a dent in the whale, but

as soon as you stop pushing, [the dent] comes right back out again," leaving the whale right where

it was. E. M. Shoemaker interview, Mar. 17, 1984. When the laughter had died down, an unidentified Headquarters participant topped the joke with the comment, "Gene, you ought to try pushing

that whale off the beach from the inside." H. H. Schmitt interview, May 30, 1984.

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Setback and Recovery: 1967

ples over a wider area and to explore peaks and valleys that a wheeled vehicle

could not reach. All the working groups agreed on the need for long unmanned

traverses on the lunar surface, for which a dual-mode "local scientific survey module" was necessary. Besides carrying the lunar explorers from place to place, this

module would be capable of unmanned operation directed from earth, traveling

across the surface from one Apollo landing site to another. Along the way it would

deploy several small geophysical instruments and collect samples for return by

the next manned mission. An unmanned vehicle somewhat like this was being

considered, but the Santa Cruz conferees favored their own version, which was

more sophisticated .31

To support longer stays on the moon, the scientists recommended that NASA

develop the capability to launch two Saturn Vs per mission: one to carry the

crew, the other, unmanned, to transport a modified lunar module carrying additional expendable supplies and scientific instruments.* To supplement the more

flexible manned missions they proposed, the working groups recommended that

a network of geophysical stations be established on the moon using improved

Surveyor spacecraft or similar instrumented modules. Other recommendations

for improving Apollo's scientific return included increasing the quantity of lunar

samples returned to 250 pounds (110 kilograms), modularizing the experiment

package so that instruments could be more easily interchanged to meet the scientific requirements of each mission, and developing the capability to deploy

instrumented satellites in close orbit around the moon.32

In spite of MSC's efforts to be responsive to experimenters' needs, the scientists at Santa Cruz evidently felt that communication between investigators and

engineers still left much to be desired. They recommended that a project scientist, preferably someone involved in the experiment, be assigned to each experiment to make sure that scientists and engineers understood each others' needs

and limitations.33

Turning to the question of astronaut participation in lunar exploration, the Santa

Cruz conference conceded the primacy of piloting skills in the choice of Apollo

crews, but strongly recommended that the second criterion for crew selection be

ability in field geology. On the later, more complicated scientific missions, the

conference considered that "the knowledge and experience of an astronaut who is also

a professional field geologist is essential. " As far as astronaut training was concerned,

the conferees insisted that "in the interest of maintaining career proficiency, astronauts

should be provided time to engage in some form of research activity within their professional fields [emphasis in the original in both cases]. " 34 The latter point was particularly important. NASA was about to announce the names of a second group

of scientist-astronauts and the conference was sending a message to MSC that

this group should, from the start, be scientists first and pilots second.

Rounding out the summary recommendations of the conference, the working

groups outlined in some detail a sequence of missions to follow the first few Apollo

*A logistic support system based on the Saturn V had been in NASA's plans ever since the lunarorbit rendezvous decision in 1962. It was part of the price OMSF paid von Braun for his support of

lunar-orbit rendezvous, and was to be designed and built by Marshall Space Flight Center, which

had no major development responsibilities after Saturn V. See Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson,

Chariots for Apollo, p. 81.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

landings: (1) manned orbital flights around the moon to obtain better photographs

of proposed landing sites and study the surface with remote sensors, (2) singlelaunch manned missions, and (3) dual-launch manned missions. Three exploration missions were sketched out. One would send two men to the crater Copernicus for three days, exploring and sampling the crater floor and its central peaks

with the lunar flying unit. The second, a six-day voyage to the Aristarchus region,

required a dual Saturn V launch carrying an unmanned lunar-traversing vehicle.

This mission would explore the "Cobra's Head," a curious crater lying at the

head of the sinuous rille known as Schroeter's Valley. Finally, plans were outlined for a seven-day mission to crater Alphonsus employing most of the exploration aids recommended by the working groups. Scientific objectives were spelled

out in some detail for each site, and the conference report recommended that

all these mission proposals be given immediate detailed analysis to test their practicability.35

As important as its scientific recommendations was the mechanism the conference set up for effecting them. Near the end of the second week Hess established

a Group for Lunar Exploration Planning (GLEP)* to work continuously with

NASA mission planners to incorporate as many of the Santa Cruz recommendations as possible into the remaining Apollo and Apollo Applications missions.36

For the next few years GLEP and MSC planners would meet periodically to examine and refine mission plans.

Santa Cruz gave the Manned Spacecraft Center as much material for study as

it could have wanted, and Houston's planning groups began studying its recommendations within weeks of its conclusion. Toward the end of September Elbert

King summarized the Santa Cruz proceedings for MSC's lunar missions planning board. The board's reaction to the conference's primary recommendations

was not especially sanguine. Neither the lunar flying unit—considered vital by

the scientists—nor the local science survey module was much more than a concept at the time, and both would take considerable time to reach operational maturity. Max Faget, MSC's director of Engineering and Development, agreed that

both vehicles were desirable but was not optimistic about either cost or schedule. Since the Santa Cruz conferees had suggested that lunar exploration be

deferred until the flying unit was developed, the whole program could be held

up if it ran into difficulty. In the discussion it was pointed out that Marshall Space

Flight Center had studied similar mobility aids and was not convinced that a

remotely controlled surface vehicle was feasible. Marshall was currently exploring a smaller lunar roving vehicle that could carry little more than the two

astronauts and some scientific equipment. The lunar missions planning board

did not settle the question of surface mobility at this meeting. Although it agreed

on the necessity to extend the range of the astronauts' exploration, the board

was not too keen on starting to work on either of the vehicles suggested at Santa

`Members were chairman Wilmot N. Hess, Maxime A. Faget, Harold Gartrell, Elbert A. King, Jr.,

Harrison H. Schmitt, and William T. Stoney, all of MSC; Richard J. Allenby, OSSA; James R. Arnold,

Univ. of California, San Diego; Melvin B. Calvin, Univ. of California, Berkeley; Philip E. Culbertson,

OMSF; Paul W. Gast, Columbia Univ.; Richard Jahns, Stanford Univ.; Francis Johnson, Southwest

Center for Advanced Studies; Charles Lundquist, Smithsonian Geophysical Observatory; Frank Press,

Mass. Institute of Technology; Nancy Roman, OSSA; Eugene M. Shoemaker, U.S. Geological Survey; and Donald J. Williams, Goddard Space Flight Center.

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Setback and Recovery: 1967

Cruz. Faget guessed that the long-range vehicle could cost as much as $250 million to develop .37

On November 16 and 17 OSSA's Lunar and Planetary Missions Board, which

was responsible for advising NASA management on the overall balance between

lunar and planetary programs, met at Houston to review lunar exploration plans.

Hess presented the status of MSC's plan, the elements it should contain, and

how it was to evolve. Board members were clearly uneasy, for they asked Hess

to review the plan again before submitting it to Headquarters for approval .31 Three

days after the Houston meeting, on request of the Lunar and Planetary Missions

Board, Associate Administrator* Homer Newell sent Robert Gilruth a motion

passed by the board to guide MSC's discussions with the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning. While the board found most of the Santa Cruz report acceptable

in principle, it requested that the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning review

that report "in light of the severe fiscal constraints currently in effect." The board

suggested that to reduce the cost of lunar exploration, some of the manned landings could be replaced by unmanned, automated, and mobile exploration systems launched by Saturn Vs, and asked GLEP to submit a few examples of

programs at different budget levels .39

The Purse Strings Draw Tighter

The "severe fiscal constraints" cited by the Lunar and Planetary Missions Board

had been building throughout 1967, and for the unmanned space programs, at

least a year before that. NASA's appropriations peaked in fiscal 1965 at $5.25 billion and declined by $75 million and then $207 million in the following two fiscal

years. In 1966 Lyndon Johnson had concentrated on establishing his Great Society programs; in 1967 the American military presence in southeast Asia grew substantially. Apollo suffered little by comparison with some other programs, but

post-Apollo programs, including George Mueller's grandiose Apollo Applications

Program, had been postponed. 40 In the spring of 1967 NASA submitted a request

for fiscal 1968 of $5.1 billion, which Congress cut by $517 million. On signing

the space agency's authorization bill in August, the President indicated that he

would not oppose the reductions, noting that the federal deficit might run as high

as $29 billion instead of the $8.1 billion forecast early in the year. The country

faced hard choices, he said, and would have "to distinguish between the necessary and the desirable. "41

Three months later Administrator James Webb presented NASA's proposed

operating plan for fiscal 1968 to the Senate space committee. His figures showed

that Congress had cut only $50.5 million (2 percent) out of the $2,546.5 million

request for Apollo. Apollo Applications had been slashed by 31 percent, and

advanced mission studies had been completely eliminated. The Office of Space

*In August Newell had been appointed Associate Administrator, NASA's third-ranking officer,

succeeding Robert C. Seamans, Jr., who had moved up to the post of Deputy Administrator after

the death of Hugh L. Dryden in December 1965. John E. Naugle succeeded Newell as Associate

Administrator for Space Science and Applications.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Science and Applications had been hit relatively much harder. Congress had cut

$146.6 million (22 percent) out of its total request of $674.6 million for all space

science programs. OSSA's lunar and planetary missions were reduced by 12 percent and Voyager, a major planetary program, was eliminated entirely. 42 Such

were the "severe fiscal constraints" that motivated the Lunar and Planetary Missions Board to ask for reexamination of MSC's lunar exploration plans.

The fiscal crunch of 1967 was the beginning of a long period of comparative

austerity for the American space program. Domestic programs and the nation's

growing participation in the Vietnam war created severe pressure on all government programs, and space was no exception. At first Apollo suffered less than

other space projects, but eventually it too would shrink as a result of changing

national priorities.

Lunar Exploration Program Office Established

As long as Apollo was a goal yet to be attained, the nation and the Congress

seemed willing to support it at substantially the level NASA considered essential. Less exciting programs and less tangible space objectives fared less well when

the federal deficit grew. This trend in congressional support of space programs

from 1965 was not lost on NASA's managers, least of all on George Mueller. In

1963 he had begun looking for a viable post-Apollo program; since 1965 he had

worked for a specific (though ill-defined, in the opinion of some) program to use

the Apollo spacecraft and organization to produce useful results. His proposals,

deferred in fiscal 1966 and again in fiscal 1967, only achieved concrete status as

the Apollo Applications Program (AAP) in the fiscal 1968 budget—and then with

pitifully small financial support.

In early 1967, Apollo Applications still included (at least on paper) all manned

programs after the first few lunar landings—specifically, extended lunar exploration using improved Apollo spacecraft. From mid-1966 onward, however,

Mueller's concept of Apollo Applications seemed to be narrowing. Congressional

committees had not warmed to his plans for a wide-ranging, multifunctional program whose major goal seemed to be to use up the hardware already developed

and exercise the organization. Debate within his own manned space flight organization and discussions with aerospace executives led Mueller to the conclusion

that AAP should serve more specifically as a bridge to the next major manned

space program—whatever that might be .43

Thus as 1967 wore on and the consequences of the AS-204 fire were dealt with,

Mueller saw merit in separating lunar exploration from unrelated activities in AAP.

Lack of enthusiasm for AAP outside his own office—particularly at higher levels

of NASA management—undoubtedly contributed to this changing view. In May,

management discussions led to a number of decisions that subordinated AAP

to the main objectives of Apollo: the lunar landing had priority over AAP; no

hardware would be modified (a key feature of AAP) unless authorized by the

deputy administrator; and all AAP launch schedules and hardware assignments

would remain tentative until progress in Apollo could be assessed and AAP payloads could be better defined .44 Under these conditions, continued exploration

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Setback and Recovery: 1967

of the moon stood a better chance of support under the Apollo banner. Since

planning for manned lunar exploration was more or less independent of which

program office actually oversaw it, site selection, experiment development, and

mission planning continued without regard to organizational lines.

In December 1967 Mueller established an Apollo Lunar Exploration Office under

the Apollo Program Office in Headquarters. As director of the new office he named

Lee R. Scherer, a retired Navy captain who had directed the successful Lunar

Orbiter program (completed four months previously). Scherer's office would

assume responsibility at Headquarters for directing all activities connected with

lunar exploration. Two divisions, Flight Systems Development and Lunar Science,

would oversee spacecraft modifications and science plans, respectively. The Lunar

Science Division would look to the Office of Space Science and Applications for

all science planning .41 The major functions of the old Manned Space Science Division were distributed between the Lunar Exploration Office and the Apollo Applications Program Office, and its director, Willis Foster, became assistant to the

associate administrator of OSSA in charge of manned space flight experiments.

Lunar Receiving Laboratory:

Management and Sample Handling

At the end of 1966 construction of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory (LRL) at MSC

was well under way. On January 11, 1967, Gilruth advised Homer Newell that

the laboratory's design was essentially fixed and that any new requirements arising

out of proposals by scientific investigators could only be accommodated by design

changes, which would cost money and time. 46 Construction proceeded without

significant delay throughout the spring, and in mid-April program manager Joseph

V. Piland reported to Gilruth that he expected to close down his office by June

30 and turn the laboratory over to its operating staff.47

The principal unsettled question in early 1967 was that of a laboratory staff.

For several months the LRL Working Group, appointed by the Planetology Subcommittee of OSSA's Space Sciences Steering Committee, had insisted that the

laboratory must be a permanent scientific research organization headed by a

nationally respected scientist who would report to the director of MSC (see Chapter 4). MSC's announcement creating the new Science and Applications Directorate did not mention the Lunar Receiving Laboratory, confirming the "worst

fears" (as the group's chairman, Clark Goodman, put it) of the working group,

which was informed of the action only after the fact. Headquarters and MSC officials spent considerable time convincing Goodman that those fears were groundless: the laboratory would be a part of MSC's science directorate and MSC was

working closely with OSSA in selecting an outstanding scientist to direct it; the

director would be appointed only with the concurrence of the associate administrator for space science and applications; and he would be given a free hand in

revising the organization of the laboratory and selecting its staff. 48 Three days

after announcing the new science directorate, MSC issued an interim plan for

the management and operation of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory, placing it in

the Lunar and Earth Sciences Division, whose head would report to the Director

of Science and Applications.49

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

In the weeks following the establishment of the science directorate at MSC,

it seemed that every group having a claim on the functions of the receiving laboratory wanted immediate action on its primary problems. After the LRL Working

Group it was the Planetary Biology Subcommittee of the Space Sciences Steering Committee, which met in Houston in mid-January to look after the life

sciences' interests in lunar samples and the biological training of astronauts. Some

investigators suspected that MSC intended to enlarge the receiving laboratory's

activities to the point of usurping some of the responsibilities of outside scientists; but Houston's presentation to the subcommittee evidently laid that fear to

rest. 50 The following week it was the Public Health Service, which was concerned

with back-contamination and quarantine. MSC Deputy Director George Low and

PHS officials met at Atlanta and agreed that the chief of the Biomedical Branch,

one of five branches under the Lunar and Earth Sciences Division of the receiving laboratory, would oversee quarantine. When the lab was completed and a

formal organization was in place, MSC would recommend appointment of Dr.

G. Briggs Phillips, the PHS's liaison officer at MSC since mid-1965, to that post.51

Scientific activity in the receiving laboratory came to the fore in the spring of

1967 when the scientists who would investigate the first material returned to earth

from the moon were named. On March 16, Headquarters announced that 110

scientists, including 27 working in laboratories outside the United States, had

been selected to receive lunar samples. 52 The Manned Spacecraft Center then faced

the task of allocating the lunar material to these investigators, considering the

type and quantity of sample each one wanted. Before the selection was

announced, MSC had asked Headquarters for a list of each experimenter's special requirements. OSSA returned the question to Houston to be settled in faceto-face discussions between MSC and the scientists. Newell suggested that the

principal investigators be called together to consider these problems and that they

themselves should take much of the responsibility for allocating samples. Headquarters would cooperate in every possible way, but basically it was leaving the

management of the lunar investigations to MSC.53

In September MSC convened a three-day meeting of the investigators to allow

them to update their proposals, revise their budget estimates, and devise an

equitable plan for sample allocation. Wilmot Hess and his staff briefed the scientists on the general guidelines expected to govern the distribution of samples and

the publication of results, and reviewed the general requirements for managing

contracts and grants. In revising their proposals and funding requests, the scientists were not allowed to make any major changes in experiment plans but were

encouraged to make small ones if that would significantly improve their investigations. In November MSC forwarded to Headquarters its revised budget estimates for support of lunar investigations: $3.556 million for fiscal 1968, down from

the previously estimated $4.135 million, and $3.759 million for fiscal 1969, reduced

from $4.592 million .54

From the scientists' point of view an equally important result of the September

conference was the creation of two teams of scientists to participate in the early

phases of sample examination. With the help of the investigators, Hess organized

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Setback and Recovery: 1967

a lunar sample analysis planning team* to assist him in formulating detailed guidelines for the selection and allocation of samples and the necessary scientific functions in the receiving laboratory. A second group, the lunar sample preliminary

examination team,** would participate in the initial examination of samples in

the LRL. Besides investigators approved to perform experiments in the laboratory during quarantine, the latter group included a mineralogy-petrology team

who would help obtain information that would be used in allocating samples to

other investigators. These appointments did much to increase the confidence of

the scientists in MSC's plans for management of the samples.ss

The last gap in LRL management was closed with the appointment of a director for the laboratory. On August 1, 1967, P. R. Bell, senior physicist at the Oak

Ridge National Laboratory, assumed duties as Chief of MSC's Lunar and Earth

Sciences Division and director of the LRL. Bell's career extended from pre-World

War II work with the National Defense Research Committee at the University

of Chicago through wartime research at MIT's Radiation Laboratory to postwar

work at Oak Ridge. An expert in instrumentation, he had conceived the vacuum

system that was being built by Union Carbide at Oak Ridge to be installed in the

receiving laboratory.56

Complexities of Quarantine

Quarantine took up much of the time to the LRL during 1967. An Interagency

Committee on Back Contamination (ICBC), established in 1966 (see Chapter 4),

served as the policy-making board on questions of quarantine. t As the receiving

lab moved toward operational readiness, some possible complexities of operations

became apparent. Theoretically the approval of all the concerned regulatory

agencies would have to be secured before the samples could be released to lunar

scientists. In January 1967, Robert Gdruth sent his deputy, George Low, to Atlanta

to discuss matters with ICBC chairman David Sencer. Low and Sencer readily

*Members initially appointed were Wilmot N. Hess, MSC, chairman; Elbert A. King, MSC, secretary; Edward Anders, Univ. of Chicago; James R. Arnold, Univ. of California, San Diego; P. R. Bell,

LRL manager, MSC; Clifford Frondel, Harvard Univ.; Paul W. Gast, Lamont Geol. Observatory,

Columbia Univ.; Harry H. Hess, Princeton Univ.; J. Hoover Mackin, Univ. of Texas; Eugene M. Shoemaker, U.S. Geological Survey; M. Gene Simmons, Mass. Inst. of Technology; Brian J. Skinner, Yale

Univ.; Wolf Vishniac, Univ. of Rochester; and Gerald J. Wasserburg, Calif. Inst. of Technology.

**Members initially appointed were Wilmot N. Hess, MSC, chairman; Klaus Biemann, Mass. Inst.

of Technology; Almo L. Burlingame, Univ. of California, Berkeley; Edward C. T. Chao, U.S. Geological Survey; Clifford Frondel, Harvard Univ.; Elbert A. King, MSC; J. Hoover Mackin, Univ. of Texas;

G. Davis O'Kelley, Oak Ridge National Laboratory; Oliver A. Schaeffer, State Univ. of New York,

Stony Brook; and M. Gene Simmons, Mass. Inst. of Technology.

tOriginal members of the ICBC in 1966 were David J. Sencer, USPHS, chairman; John R. Bagby, Jr.,

USPHS; Charles A. Berry, MSC; Aleck C. Bond, MSC; John Buckley, Dept. of Interior; Harold P. Klein,

Ames Research Center; G. Briggs Phillips, USPHS; John E. Pickering, OMSF; Leonard Reiffel, OMSF;

Ernest Saulmon, Dept. of Agriculture; and Wolf Vishniac, Univ. of Rochester, National Academy of

Sciences representative. In January 1967 Robert O. Piland of MSC replaced Bond; later in the year

Wilmot N. Hess replaced Piland, James H. Turnock, Jr., OMSF, replaced Reiffel, George L. Mehren,

Dept. of Agriculture, replaced Saulmon, and an OSSA member, Lawrence B. Hall, was added.

105
Where No Man Has Gone Before

agreed that a single official at MSC should be given the authority of the ICBC to

approve the quarantine protocol and to release the lunar samples when the

protocol had been satisfied. (NASA Headquarters had already indicated that

NASA's authority to release the samples could be delegated to Gilruth.) The ICBC

would develop quarantine procedures, its representative in Houston would certify to Gilruth that those procedures had been satisfied, and Gilruth would order

quarantine terminated .57 If a long chain of approvals—from each of the regulatory

agencies through Headquarters to MSC—could be avoided, the academic investigators could have their lunar material much sooner.

Once in the lunar receiving laboratory, crews and lunar samples were safely

sealed off from the earth, but between the command module floating on the Pacific

Ocean and the crew quarters in Houston was a gap in the containment of extraterrestrial material. By late August 1966 it had been agreed that a "mobile quarantine facility" would be used to transport the lunar explorers from the recovery

ship to the receiving lab. Essentially a travel trailer that could accommodate six

people for four days, the isolation van would be modified to prevent the escape

of infectious agents. It would be sealed aboard the recovery ship, carried from

the splashdown point to Hawaii, flown in a C-141 cargo aircraft to Ellington Air

Force Base near MSC, and hauled by truck to the LRL, where the astronauts would

enter quarantine through a plastic tunnel extending from the van to the LRL

door. 58

A similar method might be used aboard ship to transfer the astronauts from

the spacecraft to the mobile quarantine facility. If the command module was

assumed to be contaminated it should not be opened; hence the sealed spacecraft with its human contents should be hoisted onto the deck of the recovery

ship, where the astronauts could pass through a plastic tunnel from spacecraft

to isolation van. Landing operations managers were unwilling to risk this, however, because of the possibility of injuring the crewmen if the spacecraft were

dropped. Yet there seemed no feasible way to open the command module while

it floated on the ocean and still keep it isolated from the earth's biosphere. After

examining the spacecraft's environmental control system, the ICBC was satisfied that it would effectively filter out airborne bacteria during the long return

trip from the moon. 59 Thus only the astronauts—not the atmosphere of the command module—were likely to harbor biological contaminants, and some means

had to be devised to keep them from infecting the world on their short trip from

the spacecraft to the isolation van. The solution was to bag them in plastic: a "biological isolation garment," a zippered plastic coverall equipped with a respirator. The recovery crew would toss these into the spacecraft; the astronauts would

don them before entering the recovery raft and remove them after they were sealed

in their temporary quarters aboard ship .60

Another key problem was the selection of biological tests—the "protocol"—

that would give maximum assurance that the samples harbored no dangerous

organisms while requiring minimum time and facilities in the receiving lab. Early

in 1966 MSC had contracted with Baylor College of Medicine in Houston to

develop the test protocol, which the ICBC reviewed at its December meeting .61

The objective of the protocol was to permit a biomedical assessment of lunar material so that samples could be released within 30 days of their arrival at the LRL,

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ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH Setback and Recovery: 1967

An Apollo mobile quarantine facility (MQF) on its pallet, in storage at MSC. Ilie unit is a considerably modified version of a commercial Airstream travel trailer. On the roof are two air-conditioning

units, front and back, and two filtered air inlets, center. The main door and viewing window are

in the rear (right). A side door (center) allowed transfer of rock boxes from the command module

through a plastic tunnel (not shown), after which they would be sterilized and passed out through

the transfer lock just forward of the side door. Auxiliary power units, visible on the front end of

the pallet, provided electricity during transfers from ship to shore and onto the transport aircraft;

at other times the unit took electricity from the recovery ship or the transport aircraft. The MQF was

35 feet long, 9 feet wide, 8 feet 7 inches high and weighed 18,700 pounds when fully stocked with

consumable supplies and support equipment.

unless some evidence of extraterrestrial organisms appeared. The samples would

be examined microscopically for evidence of living organisms, and then a variety

of plants and animals would be exposed to lunar material to determine whether

they were affected by it. After some discussion at the meeting, committee members were asked to review the plan, considering the limitations of time, facilities,

and laboratory personnel, and recommend a collection of tests that would provide the best statistical validity for the protocol.62

After looking over the proposed quarantine protocol, Wolf Vishniac, biologist

at the University of Rochester representing the National Academy of Sciences,

raised a question that the committee would discuss for the rest of the year. Baylor's proposed battery of biological tests was quite comprehensive; as a result,

Vishniac noted, it would require a very large sample. He then asked what would

be done if, as "an extreme case, ... no samples of lunar material [were] collected

and brought back [other than] dust brought from the lunar surface into the space

capsule and inhaled by the astronauts." Between this and the several kilograms

107
Where No Man Has Gone Before

of lunar soil that was the nominal sample lay a range of possibilities in which

only grams or fractions of grams of material might be available. If the crew should

have to leave the moon with only a small sample, how could a satisfactory quarantine examination be carried out and still leave material for other scientists to work

with? Vishniac took the position that if extraterrestrial organisms existed they

were bound to be introduced into the earth's biosphere eventually, no matter

how rigorous the precautions, if planetary exploration continued. Therefore the

Apollo quarantine protocol should search not for living organisms in general but

only for infectious organisms that constituted a clear danger to the earth. Thus

the quarantine protocol could be considerably simplified. 63 Vishniac's suggestion

was privately welcomed at MSC, where some project managers felt that quarantine procedures were on the verge of becoming unworkable.64

Evidently other members of the committee were coming to a similar conclusion, because at the next ICBC meeting they agreed to keep the quarantine protocol under continuing review. They also agreed that samples would be tested

on a few well understood living systems rather than a larger number of less common ones. Systems of greatest sensitivity would be selected so that results could

be quickly assessed, minimizing the amount of sample required and the time

needed to certify the lunar material as harmless.65

At its June meeting the ICBC reviewed the revised quarantine protocol and considered a statistical approach to determining the size of sample required to give

the desired reliability. It appeared that 1.2 kilograms (about 2.5 pounds) of material would be needed to conduct an acceptable quarantine protocol. If, as the Santa

Cruz conference had recommended, no more than 5 percent of the total lunar

material were used for quarantine testing, 24 kilograms (53 pounds)—roughly the

nominal lunar sample—would be enough to provide a sample for quarantine testing. The committee would continue to work toward a minimum test protocol in

case less than 24 kilograms were returned.66

By the end of the summer the Interagency Committee had agreed on an outline of the procedures for releasing lunar material and astronauts from quarantine. If, as expected, the biological tests showed no exotic organisms and the

astronauts developed no symptoms of infection within 21 days, the ICBC would

review the data and certify that the crewmen could be released. Any change in

the astronauts' general health would call for diagnosis. If the change was noninfectious or could be attributed to familiar terrestrial organisms, quarantine could

be ended. But if no cause for the change was readily apparent, the question of

release would be passed to a NASA medical team. A similar plan was prescribed

for testing and releasing the lunar samples. If there were any doubt about living

organisms being in the lunar material, release might be conditional, requiring

sterilization or stipulation that the sample could be examined only behind a biological barrier. In all cases, doubtful results could lead to retention of the samples in the receiving laboratory until further testing satisfied all concerned agencies

that no hazard existed .61

While the ICBC worked toward a final quarantine protocol, others were looking ahead to premission testing of the receiving laboratory and its facilities. Early

in the summer George Mueller sketched out for MSC Director Robert Gilruth

a tentative timeline for LRL tests and simulations. According to Mueller's concept, laboratory personnel could be trained in the operation of the equipment

108
Setback and Recovery: 1967

and conduct of the quarantine tests before the laboratory was actually occupied.

By the end of 1967 some partial simulations should be conducted to confirm the

suitability of the lab's systems and the ability of the technical support team to

handle the anticipated work load. In the following three months some actual

sample-handling simulations should be conducted. By mid-1968, Mueller said,

a full-scale dress rehearsal of a mission should be conducted, from splashdown

through the end of quarantine. Samples and test subjects would be treated exactly

as they would be during an actual mission, with data being accumulated, handled, and reduced in "real time," to iron out any deficiencies remaining in procedures and equipment .68 Houston estimated that preparation for an end-to-end

simulation of a lunar mission would require 11 months .69

1967: A Critical Year

The six months after the Apollo fire were probably the busiest of the entire

moon-landing program. At the Manned Spacecraft Center and its spacecraft contractor, North American Aviation, procedures were tightened up to give managers

a better grip on details of the program. Both MSC and NAA brought in new

managers for the spacecraft project. George Low, picked by James Webb to run

Houston's spacecraft program, appointed a tough configuration control board

at MSC which met every week to review proposed design changes. Every system and subsystem in the command module was examined for hazards. New

materials and test procedures assured that the risk of fire was reduced to the absolute minimum.70

The fire bought time for the Saturn project as well. While the first and third

stages had few major problems, the second (S-II) stage—also a North American

project—had been having serious problems since 1965. S-II was the largest rocket

stage ever built to use liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen, and its builders ran

into unique technological problems and needed all the help they could get to meet

launch schedules. At one point, in fact, S-II was the single most troublesome part

of the Saturn program.71

The toil, tears, and sweat expended by NASA and contractors during the postfire months produced striking results before the year ended. On November 9,

1967, the first complete Saturn V to be flight-tested, AS-501, lifted off from the

brand new launch complex 39 at Kennedy Space Center, carrying a boilerplate

command and service module and a mock-up of the lunar module into earth orbit.

Apollo 4, as the flight was designated, was certainly the most complex mission

launched up to that time. Its long list of "firsts" included checking out all systems of the Saturn V, including the first in-orbit restarting of the S-IVB third stage.

As far as the spacecraft was concerned, Apollo 4 proved the soundness of the

command module's heat shield and redesigned hatch during simulated reentry

from a lunar mission. George Mueller's 1963 decision to test the Saturn V "allup" was apparently vindicated when AS-501 was officially evaluated as a success in all respects.72

With that success it was easy to feel that Apollo was "on its way to the moon,"

as Program Director Sam Phillips put it in a postlaunch press conference. Apollo

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

4 was the first of six steps that MSC mission planners had set down as essential

precursors to the lunar landing. These flights, lettered "A" through "F," would

progressively test the systems of the command and service module and the lunar

module and verify flight operations procedures, first in earth orbit and then in

deep space (lunar orbit), before mission "G" landed on the moon. Four Saturn

Vs and two Saturn IBs (or three and three, depending on how the Saturn V and

the spacecraft systems performed) would be used for the prelanding missions.

This classification of missions, though unofficial, was the framework on which

subsequent planning was built.73

The year also saw a considerable evolution of scientific activity at the Manned

Spacecraft Center. Much of the cause of scientists' complaints about the Houston center was removed by the creation of the Science and Applications Directorate and the appointment of a research scientist of recognized stature as its head.

When that directorate became operational, Headquarters's Office of Space Science

and Applications delegated to MSC most of the responsibility for management

of the lunar samples, including direct contacts with the participating scientists.

The lunar receiving laboratory, although it was not accorded the bureaucratic stature at MSC that the lunar scientists had insisted on, was placed sufficiently high to

assure adequate autonomy, and its first manager was a research scientist who had

been a major contributor to the design of the LRL's sample-handling equipment.

NASA Administrator James Webb spent considerable time in 1967 exploring

a more prominent role in planetary science for the lunar receiving laboratory. In

view of the historic significance of the lunar samples and the possibility that probes

might eventually return samples from the planets, Webb wanted the LRL to

become the world's premier site for scientific research on the moon and the

planets. In discussions with the National Academy of Sciences during 1967, Webb

worked for an arrangement to bring this prospective "Lunar Science Institute"

under academic management, which would be essential if the institute was to

achieve the stature Webb wanted for it. By the end of the year NASA and the

Academy had defined the role of the institute and were working to form a consortium of universities to manage it, but ideas had not yet crystallized and quite

a bit of negotiating was still to be done.74

As 1968 began, Apollo program officials could look back on a year of accomplishment and ahead to more hard work. It would be a busy year at the Cape:

the official manned space flight schedule projected six developmental missions

for 1968. Three were Saturn IB missions, two of them unmanned tests of the lunar

module, and the third a manned test of the much-reworked command and service module in earth orbit. Three Saturn V flights—two unmanned, verifying

spacecraft development, and one manned—would precede five manned Saturn

V missions in 1969. "The first lunar landing," the schedule stated for public consumption, "is possible in [the] last half of 1969." 75 Manned space flight operations were about to go into high gear.

When mission G was ready to fly, lunar scientists could expect the facilities

for handling its history-making cargo to be ready. During 1967 the lunar receiving laboratory had been completed and much of its specialized equipment

installed. Perhaps more important, MSC and the community of lunar investigators had set up the administrative mechanism by which the lunar material would

be parceled out for scientific examination. Within the constraints of quarantine

110
Setback and Recovery: 1967

and of MSC's responsibility to safeguard and account for the samples, the scientists, through their chosen representatives, would allot the lunar rocks and soil

to the approved investigators. As far as the official records reveal it, MSC and

the academic science community were developing a cooperative relationship along

lines that the scientists found acceptable, if not ideal.

111
8

FINAL PREPARATIONS: 1968

Apollo took longer strides in 1968, perhaps, than in any previous year. In April,

fifteen months after the fire, a Saturn V carried an unmanned command module

into earth orbit to test launch vehicle and spacecraft systems and to simulate reentry from a lunar voyage. Only months before Apollo 7 tested the redesigned

command module with a crew in October, officials at the Manned Spacecraft Center began to think about a much more ambitious flight. After selling their proposal to Headquarters, they began making plans to send a crew to the vicinity

of the moon. For Christmas 1968 NASA gave the world a present to remember:

live television pictures and oral commentary from the crew of the Apollo 8 spacecraft in lunar orbit.

On the science side, progress was less spectacular. Technical problems with

the lunar surface experiments were largely overcome, but doubts about the

astronauts' ability to unload and deploy the instruments in the time available eventually caused program officials to substitute a smaller science package on the first

lunar mission. Several of the systems for handling lunar samples in the lunar

receiving laboratory caused major delays, but when the year ended the staff was

gearing up for a full-scale simulation.

Spacecraft and Mission Progress

Most of MSC's activity during 1967 and early 1968 was directed toward reducing

the fire hazard in the command module. The spacecraft hatch was redesigned

so that the crew could open it unaided in five seconds. Electrical systems and

the plumbing that carried oxygen and combustible coolants were thoroughly examined and modified. New materials to replace flammable nylon were investigated.

The advantages and disadvantages of atmospheres other than pure oxygen were

weighed. Repeated testing gathered data to support recommended changes. A

Senior Flammability Board, a Materials Selection Review Board, and a Crew Safety

Review Board were established to oversee specific parts of the process, and a tough

Configuration Control Board was set up to pass on all proposed changes in the

command module. The spacecraft builder, North American Aviation, was prodded to supervise its subcontractors and vendors more closely to ensure on-time

delivery of critical subsystems.' The lunar landing module was less affected by

the fire, but it had its own problems. As had happened two years earlier, its weight

continued to creep upward, putting a squeeze on the scientific payload that could

be landed on the moon. Stress corrosion—cracks in aluminum structural

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PAGL I NTENTIQNAl1Y RUN;
Where No Man Has Gone Before

members—and fragile wiring caused delays and concern for reliability. Perhaps

the most serious problem was combustion instability in the lander's ascent engine,

which would blast the astronauts in the upper section back into lunar orbit after

they had completed their lunar exploration. These were worrisome problems at

this late stage, but concentrated effort by the lunar module contractor and two

engine contractors produced enough progress by mid -1968 to give NASA

managers reason for guarded optimism.z

Late in January 1968 flight tests resumed when MSC put an unmanned lunar

lander through its paces in earth orbit. Designated Apollo 5 and launched on a

Saturn I-B, this flight verified operation of the lunar module's propulsion and

attitude-control systems and checked out the performance of the instrument unit

on the launch vehicle's uppermost stage, the S-IVB. The success of this mission

was more encouraging than the one that followed. On April 4 Apollo 6, the second "all-up" unmanned test of the Saturn V, tested launch-vehicle systems and

the emergency detection system and allowed launch crews and vehicle engineers

to rehearse their tasks once more. Along for the ride, more or less, was a Block

I command module with some Block II* modifications; no mission objectives were

to be satisfied by this spacecraft except verification of its performance during reentry from a lunar mission. Apollo 6 was trouble from the start. The first-stage burn

produced intolerable "pogo" effects (longitudinal oscillations due to irregular fuel

feed), and a section of the adapter that mated the spacecraft to the booster blew

off during ascent. Two of the five engines on the second stage (S-II) shut down

prematurely. Perhaps the most troublesome fault was the failure of the third stage

(the S-IVB) to reignite in orbit—the maneuver that, on a lunar mission, would

send the Apollo craft on its way to the moon. Marshall Space Flight Center

immediately got to work on the problems; yet another unmanned Saturn V test

might be needed unless Marshall's engineers could correct them .3

In spite of the difficulties with Saturn V and the lunar module, in mid -1968

it still seemed possible that manned flights could resume before the end of the

year. Command and service module number 101, delivered to the Cape at the

end of May, had fewer discrepancies on arrival than any previous spacecraft. It

would fly on Apollo 7, the first manned earth-orbital test of the second-generation

spacecraft, scheduled for the last quarter of the year. Since that mission would

use a Saturn I-B rather than a Saturn V and would not carry a lunar module,

its prospects seemed good .4

While spacecraft and operations engineers worked toward getting Apollo flying

again, their counterparts in the science programs were equally busy preparing

for the first lunar landing. Of all the science-related efforts, the lunar surface

experiments were in the best shape in early 1968. The lunar receiving laboratory

with its complex scientific equipment, and the elaborate procedures for backcontamination control, had much farther to go before they would be ready to

handle their part of the program.

'The two versions of the command module were designed respectively for earth-orbit and lunarlanding missions. They differed chiefly in onboard systems (guidance and navigation, docking, lifesupport, etc.).

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Final Preparations: 1968

Lunar Surface Experiments

During 1967 the Bendix Corporation and MSC ironed out the development problems of the Apollo lunar surface experiments package (ALSEP), and the project

was on schedule for the first lunar landing mission (see Chapter 6). But as the

year wore on, doubts about the ability of the astronauts to set up the instruments

in the time available,* expressed in July by a Headquarters officials (see Chapter

7), arose in other quarters as well. Planning for lunar surface operations called

for one period of activity in which the astronauts would collect a contingency

sample, inspect the lunar module, and familiarize themselves with the low-gravity

environment. During this excursion—whose length was limited by the capacity

of the portable life-support systems—they would scoop up 10 kilograms (22

pounds) of surface material and load it into the sample-return container. No one

was sure how much time these activities would require. MSC tended to be very

conservative in estimating how much work astronauts could do under lunar surface conditions, and since it was certain that setting up the experiments would

take a good deal of time and effort, deployment was not scheduled during the

first extravehicular period. "For planning purposes," preliminary plans called

for a second moon walk during which the crew would unload, lay out, and connect the science instruments.6

As planning went on, however, and the limitations of time and life-support

systems became clearer, the flight of the planned group of instruments on the

first lunar landing mission became more doubtful. Simulations showed that a

suited astronaut had serious difficulty in unloading the package from the lunar

module. To complicate the situation further, weight was a growing problem with

the lunar module and difficulties were developing with the radioisotope thermoelectric generator that provided power for the experiments. By mid -1968 planners were already discussing the need to develop a smaller, less complex package

for that flight, so that some minimum scientific return would be realized.'

MSC's normal conservatism in matters of crew safety and mission success grew

even stronger during the summer. The more engineers and mission planners

looked at alternatives the more attractive a simplified plan for lunar surface operations became. The first lunar landing would, after all, be the most hazardous

(potentially catastrophic) space mission yet, and it would be done with a spacecraft that had not been (and could not be) tested under conditions exactly duplicating the mission. Houston's concern had its effect in Washington. In June George

Mueller asked Gilruth to schedule a simulation of instrument deployment so that

he could make his own evaluation. 8 After this was completed in mid-August 1968,

Sam Phillips, Apollo program director at Headquarters, conferred with the chairman of the Science and Technology Advisory Committee** on proposed changes

in plans for the first lunar landing. When they reached agreement, Phillips noti-

*An additional question, raised by MSC's Flight Operations Directorate, was whether any lunar

module systems should be turned off during the lunar stay. FOD favored keeping critical systems

running so that the astronauts could depart immediately in case an emergency developed; this would

require additional consumables which would cut into LM weight margins. Minutes, Lunar Missions

Planning Board, May 19, 1967.

."Principal external advisory group to the Office of Manned Space Flight, established by George

Mueller in 1964.

115
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Commander Jim Lovell practices the "barbell carry," transporting a mockup of the lunar surface experiments package in a walkthrough of the first traverse planned for Apollo 13. The black object on the

right with fins, is the radioisotope thermal generator (power unit).

fied committee members of the new plans. Instead of a 26-hour stay on the moon

and two-person excursions, he said, "it now seems prudent to limit the lunar

surface staytime to about 20 hours and the EVA [extravehicular activity] to a single one-person excursion of 2 to 2 1/2 hours duration." This decision was based

on experience in Gemini, where MSC had been unpleasantly surprised by the

difficulty of working in null gravity. Whereas previous plans had called for the

astronauts to set up a high-gain (strongly directional) antenna for television transmission, conduct preliminary geological exploration, collect samples, and emplace

the lunar surface experiments package, mission planners now proposed to curtail the geological exploration, to depend on the 64-meter antenna at Goldstone,

California, to pick up TV signals from a less directional antenna that did not have

to be deployed by the astronauts, and to carry no scientific instruments at all.

Phillips regretfully acknowledged that much scientific information would be lost

but noted that subsequent missions would make up for it. Offsetting that loss

would be operational advantages that looked extremely attractive: an increase

in the safety margins for the lunar module's propulsion systems; maintenance

of the lunar module in a state of readiness for quick departure in an emergency;

and simplification of the training program, which was becoming undesirably

complex.9

Phillips's action was welcomed by most of the MSC officials directly involved,

but not by Wilmot Hess, director of science and applications. Hess, who had been

fighting the battle for Apollo science on many fronts for the past two years, was

dismayed by Phillips's proposals. In a vigorous remonstrance he deplored the

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116BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH Final Preparations: 1968

W "I

Apollo 13 commander Jim Lovell (left) and lunar module pilot Fred Haise load up the tool carrier

in a training session at Kennedy Space Center.

severe loss to lunar science and the loss of credibility among the scientists that

MSC would suffer if the proposed changes were adopted:

What can I answer to the critics of the manned program? ... People in NASA

and outside ... have repeatedly told me that no useful science had been done

on Gemini and that none would be done on Apollo. My answer has been that

it ... would start with the lunar landings. This is not the case now. A person

who says now that the scientific program of Apollo could be carried out as

well using the Surveyor Block III spacecraft has a very good story. I don't know

how to answer him.

Hess strongly urged that the proposed single EVA be open-ended, lasting up

to three hours if all should go well, and carrying all the scientific instruments:

... if there is a 50-50 chance of getting one experiment deployed ... it would

be better to carry ALSEP and take the chance of not deploying it rather than

not carry fit] and ... lose any chance to do this important experiment.

He closed with a strong recommendation to carry several small, easily deployed

117
Where No Man Has Gone Before

experiments on the first landing and to make a firm announcement that the second lunar landing would include a 35-hour stay, three EVAs, and the conduct

of the entire science program: collection of samples, deployment of the full package of surface experiments, and carrying out the field geology program.10

In response to Hess's plea Phillips asked MSC to propose a contingency science

program for the first landing; this was prepared and reviewed at MSC early in

October. In discussions with Phillips and George Low, MSC Apollo spacecraft

program manager, Hess, won back some important points for science. The new

experiments package would contain three simple instruments: a laser retroreflector, requiring no electrical power, with which variations in the earth-moon distance could be measured with great accuracy; a passive seismometer powered

by solar panels; and a solar-wind composition experiment, also passive and requiring very little astronaut attention to set up. The astronaut on the lunar surface

would not spend time simply testing his mobility and agility, but would carry

out some productive scientific tasks while acclimating himself, such as collecting

and packaging samples and taking documentary photographs of samples as they

were collected. Hess forwarded his proposals to Robert Gilruth and prepared a

procurement plan for the new set of experiments."

On November 5, Headquarters approved the new package and authorized MSC

to modify Bendix's contract to build it. Manufacture could start before the final

terms were negotiated, as time was critical. Some difficulty was expected in

fabricating the laser reflector (an array of a hundred individual "corner reflectors," internal corners of cubes made of silica, polished to fine tolerances and

precisely aligned) and MSC was authorized to pursue parallel approaches with

the University of Maryland and the Air Force Cambridge Research Laboratory,

both of which were working on similar projects .12 The new package would be

called the "early Apollo scientific experiments package," or "EASEP. 1113 Total

funding for the package was $5.3 million, and delivery was to be scheduled for

May 15, 1969. 14 Formal assignment of EASEP to the first landing mission was

made by direction of the Apollo configuration control board on December 5.15

Hess's vigorous advocacy saved a minimal scientific return for the first lunar

landing mission, and the original group of experiments—with some changes—

would be flown on all subsequent missions. Whether the dire consequences he

anticipated in the event of complete cancellation would have materialized is debatable. As early as May 1968 the Planetology Subcommittee of the Space Science

and Applications Steering Committee had been warned of such a possibility and

had not objected; it merely urged that a set of backup experiments be developed

in parallel, to be ready in case the complete package could not be flown." The

scientists who were to conduct the experiments agreed—after the fact—that the

changes were acceptable under the circumstances, but expressed understandable vexation because they were not consulted before the decision. 17 Still, the mood

of many scientists outside NASA was such that removing the lunar surface experiments from the first mission might well have provoked a new storm of criticism

of the Apollo program.

118
Final Preparations: 1968

Lunar Receiving Laboratory

Construction of the lunar receiving laboratory was virtually complete by the

middle of 1967; Hess held a press conference to open the new facility on June

29. 18 For the rest of the year and much of 1968, NASA and Brown & RootNorthrop, support contractor responsible for operating the laboratory, were

occupied with installation and testing of the specialized equipment required for

quarantine testing and sample handling. Brown & Root-Northrop set up training programs for the technicians who would do much of the work in the laboratory. In April 1968, to assure coordination of effort between quarantine studies

and scientific investigations, the two MSC directorates principally involved—

medical research and operations and science and applications—began holding

monthly meetings on the status and problems of the receiving laboratory. 19 MSC

officials planned an operational readiness inspection for the last quarter of 1968,

and contemplated partial and complete simulations as soon as they could begin,

to exercise the laboratory's functions and uncover flaws in equipment and procedures.20

As could be expected for a facility of such complexity, many technical problems

arose in the lunar receiving Iaboratory during the installation and testing of its

equipment. Both in the sample-handling area and in the biological laboratories,

difficulties slowed progress until late summer. 21 By mid-September, however,

problems with autoclaves (pressure vessels for sterilizing items to be transferred

out of the biological containment area) were the only serious concern. Laboratory managers prepared and sent to the MSC director a request to appoint an

Operational Readiness Inspection Board for the receiving laboratory.22

While awaiting completion of the laboratory, scientists on the preliminary

examination team and the lunar sample analysis planning team were busy defining their procedures and preparing for simulations. 23 Both teams met at Houston

frequently during 1968 to discuss issues of importance in operation of the laboratory and to maintain liaison with the principal investigators. For the outside members of these teams, many of whom were university researchers, preparations

for the laboratory work to follow the first lunar landing entailed a considerable

sacrifice of time from their normal duties. 24 Simulations would require from 10

to 30 consecutive days of work in the laboratory.

Late in October the science teams gathered in Houston to conduct a training

session and simulation of operations in the sample-receiving and -processing sections of the receiving laboratory. 25 The 10-day exercise uncovered 82 major and

minor faults in equipment. A substantial number of these impaired effective operation of the vacuum system in which the sample return containers were opened.

The vacuum chamber, like most of the other cabinets that comprised the primary

biological barrier, was a "glove box," designed so that various tools, stored inside,

could be manually manipulated through a pair of impermeable gloves built into

the chamber wall. The gloves had to withstand a pressure difference of around

100 kilopascals (15 pounds per square inch—a high vacuum inside and normal

atmospheric pressure outside); consequently they were stiff, making it difficult

for the operator to use the small hand tools with any dexterity and sensitivity.

The simulation also revealed that the viewing ports left blind spots for the operator in some corners of the chamber. These and other problems necessitated more

119
Where No Man Has Gone Before

A technician examines "Big Bertha," Apollo 14 lunar sample no. 14321 in the non-sterile nitrogen

atmosphere of a processing cabinet in the lunar receiving laboratory.

than 80 major and minor changes to the system and procedures before a full mission simulation could be conducted some time in early 1969. 26 MSC established

a configuration control board for the receiving laboratory to pass on proposed

changes and keep nonessential ones from proliferating. 27

By October 1968 sufficient progress had been made to conduct an operational

readiness inspection—a mandatory procedure for all MSC facilities. MSC Director Robert R. Gilruth appointed a 10-person committee to review the facilities,

staffing, and operational plans. 28 After an initial meeting in early November and

a complete briefing two weeks later, committee members spent a month scrutinizing physical facilities, staffing and personnel training, and operational procedures. 29 The committee's recommendations, submitted in mid-December, included

72 mandatory and 91 desirable changes necessary to render the laboratory acceptable for operation.30

Preparations for a 30-day simulation of receiving laboratory operations,

scheduled for March and April, occupied most of the early months of 1969. In

the interim between the operational readiness inspection and the simulation,

laboratory staff and contractor employees worked to iron out the remaining

problems.

Problems with Back-Contamination Control

The receiving laboratory was only part of the scheme for preventing contamination of the earth by alien organisms. Between the spacecraft floating on the

ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH 120
Sample

Processing Complex

Vacuum

Transfer Locks

O

a ;

i ^ it

.I

•.j^

, I P

I I o I i ^ i;

I

Sample Final Preparations: 1968

Processing Complex

contamhenc

De contamination

System

Sketch of the layout of the vacuum processing complex in the lunar receiving laboratory. Phantom

units at left provided for expansion but were never actually built. Samples containers were passed

into the atmospheric decontamination system, through vacuum transfer locks, into the sampleprocessing complex, where they were opened and their contents were examined and processed.

Pacific Ocean and the laboratory in Houston was a long chain of events that offered

several chances to contaminate the environment. Early in 1968, spurred by expressions of concern by scientists outside the government, the Interagency Committee on Back Contamination (ICBC) revived the question of whether lunar contaminants could be completely prevented from escaping into the biosphere during

recovery operations, particularly between the floating command module and the

mobile quarantine facility aboard the recovery ship. For two years the committee

had been uneasy about this problem, and at its February meeting the chairman

opened the discussion once more. The committee asked MSC's landing and recovery division to provide

a detailed discussion on the return lunar mission [focusing on] containment

countermeasures on the lunar surface, in the Lunar Module (LM) ascent stage,

during LM-CM transfer, during CM earth return, splashdown, retrieval, operations onboard the recovery vessel, transfer into the mobile isolation unit, and

delivery and transfer into the LRL.

Committee members also wanted details of MSC's contingency plans for biological containment in case the spacecraft came down outside the primary recovery zone .31

These requests surprised Apollo officials at Houston, who thought those

questions had long been settled. Nonetheless, MSC engineers reviewed the subject again at the June meeting of the ICBC, and the committee kept the contain121
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ment question on its agenda for further study. 32 At its October meeting the ICBC

reiterated its considered opinion that the recovery crew should attach some type

of biological filter to the spacecraft's post-landing ventilation valve, which circulated air through the command module and exhausted it to the outside. When

this question had been raised two years before, MSC had demurred, warning

that an effective filter would reduce the efficiency of the ventilation system to

an unacceptable level and that attaching it to a floating spacecraft was too hazardous to the recovery crew, especially in a rough sea. The committee insisted,

however, that development of a filter attachment with a supplemental fan should

be "energetically pursued to avoid what could be compromised and untoward

decisions.' 133

When these discussions came to the attention of MSC Director Robert R. Gilruth,

he asked for a detailed briefing on the situation and ordered another review of

the question. 34 Further discussions at MSC reaffirmed the center's basic position

that biological isolation garments for the crew (see Chapter 7) constituted the best

available containment in view of the difficulties presented by more secure measures. MSC officials did, however, propose to take more stringent precautions

against bringing lunar dust into the command module. 35 Preliminary discussions

of these procedures with an ad hoc committee of the ICBC produced tentative

agreement .36

At the full committee meeting, however, agreement could not be reached. MSC

presented its plans for minimizing the transfer of lunar dust into the lunar module and thence into the command module, which apparently mollified the ICBC

somewhat. But after reviewing the results of a simulation of Apollo 9, which had

included the use of the biological isolation garments and other phases of recovery, the committee was convinced that recovery procedures allowed a breach of

containment that must be corrected. 37 Dr. David Sencer, the ICBC chairman, then

wrote a strongly worded letter to Thomas O. Paine, newly appointed NASA

administrator," expressing dismay over MSC's apparent failure to appreciate the

problem and make serious efforts to correct it. He pointed out that if recovery

procedures allowed lunar organisms to contaminate the earth, the rest of the

elaborate (and expensive) chain of quarantine was rendered useless and the space

agency would lay itself open to severe criticism by the public and the scientific

community. Sencer told Paine that the ICBC had considered recommending that

the first mission be delayed so the situation could be corrected, but had decided

instead to recommend that a filtration system for the command module be positively required on all future lunar missions—on the first, if possible, but only if

it would not delay the mission. The risk of contamination was acceptable only

if strict housekeeping procedures were enforced to minimize the amount of lunar

dust brought into the command module and if recovery teams were thoroughly

trained and required to observe contamination-control measures.38

Sencer's letter produced immediate results. The questions were aired at a

Manned Space Flight Management Council meeting on April 9, after which Sam

Phillips directed Houston's spacecraft project manager, George Low, to begin

*Paine had been deputy administrator under James Webb since early 1968. When Webb retired

in October, Paine became acting administrator; he was appointed and confirmed as administrator

in March 1969.

122
Final Preparations: 1968

immediate action on the ICBC's concerns. 39 Low assigned a variety of tasks to

various MSC offices: reexamination of the feasibility of adding a biological filter

to the postlanding ventilation system, a look at the possibility of maintaining

air flow from the command module to the lunar module during crew transfer

in lunar orbit, and a study of reinforcing the command module's hoisting ring

to allow the spacecraft to be safely lifted onto the recovery ship with the crew

still inside. 40 Houston reported the early results of its studies to Headquarters

two weeks later, then continued to work the problems with a view to submitting

concrete proposals to the next interagency committee meeting in early May .41

But time was running short. Plans called for the first lunar landing mission to

be launched in July; back-contamination procedures were still not approved, and

the receiving laboratory, critical to the program, was still far from ready. Bob Gilruth became uneasy. In early April he put his special assistant, Richard S. Johnston, in charge of all management activities relating to the receiving laboratory

and back-contamination procedures, with the full authority of the director's

office. 42 Johnston had been chief of the Crew Systems Division at MSC for many

years before moving up to the post of Special Assistant to the Director, and had

built a reputation as a forceful administrator who could get things done.

Johnston's first task was to present a summary of MSC's position on backcontamination problems at the May meeting of the ICBC. Stressing that in MSC's

opinion the guestions of controlling back-contamination during recovery had been

settled earlier, Johnston went ahead to outline MSC's plans in detail. Flight plans

called for the astronauts to contain as much lunar dust as possible in the lunar

module by vacuuming it off their space suits, then doffing the suits and sealing

them in storage bags before returning to the command module.* During the transfer the LM pressure relief valve would be opened and the oxygen flow in the

command module would be increased, to maintain a current of gas flowing from

the command module to the lunar module, thus minimizing the amount of dust

carried into the command module. Tests convinced spacecraft engineers that the

command module's environmental control system—specifically the canisters of

solid lithium hydroxide that absorbed carbon dioxide—would effectively filter particles (including microorganisms) out of the spacecraft atmosphere during the

63-hour trip back from the moon. Thus only the astronauts would be a potential

source of biological contamination, and they could be isolated from the environment by donning the special garments provided for the purpose. Johnston reiterated that adding a biological filter to the command module ventilation system

was not necessary and was undesirable. However, MSC would continue to study

the implications of adding such a filter to later missions. As for modifying recovery procedures to minimize possible contamination, MSC was unwilling to compromise safety. Hoisting the closed spacecraft to the deck of the recovery ship,

as the committee preferred, was not acceptable because of the many hazards

'The crew of Apollo 10, after testing the lunar module in lunar orbit, recommended against this procedure. They believed it was unacceptably hazardous because in the cramped lunar module the body

movements involved could too easily result in contact with fragile areas, such as the windows. Their

recommendation was later accepted by the ICBC. Donald K. Slayton to Special Asst. to the Dir. and

Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Suit Doffing in LM," June 2, 1969; Richard S. Johnston to Dir.,

Flight [Crew] Operations, same subj., June 11, 1969.

123
Where No Man Has Gone Before

involved. Houston officials preferred to leave recovery operations unchanged and

to indoctrinate the recovery crews in techniques for minimizing contact between

the spacecraft interior and the earth's atmosphere .41

The interagency committee found MSC's proposed procedures generally acceptable, at least for the first mission, but wanted to see the results of more tests before

certifying them as effective. Members still felt a need to add the post-landing ventilation filter for the second and subsequent flights. They also thought MSC should

pay more attention to contingency recovery procedures, since there was more

chance of contamination escaping if the spacecraft had to be picked up by a ship

other than the primary recovery vessel. 44 But they seemed satisfied that under

Johnston's direction the Manned Spacecraft Center was making a stronger effort

than before to comply with their recommendations.

Final Simulations and Certification

The successful flight of Apollo 8 into lunar orbit during the Christmas season

of 1968 emphasized the fact that a lunar landing was fast approaching and that

preparations for back-contamination control were becoming critical. Headquarters began to take a more active interest in the receiving laboratory and related

operations as 1969 began. Apollo program director Sam Phillips came to Houston in early February for a thorough review of containment from splashdown

to release from quarantine. 45 Ten days later George Mueller, whose Office of

Manned Space Flight had just been given full responsibility within NASA for

back-contamination control, brought a group of advisers from the regulatory agencies to scrutinize Houston's preparations. 46 These advisers found the receiving

lab far from ready to handle a mission: equipment problems, a shortage of technicians, incompletely trained personnel, and deficient protocols for biological testing all required work.47

These and other deficiencies were expected to surface during a month-long dress

rehearsal of laboratory operations scheduled to start March 3. This exercise could

not exactly simulate every detail of operations because of equipment limitations,

but it would come as close as possible. During the second week a simulation of

recovery operations would be run in connection with the flight of Apollo 9, to

evaluate the transfer of astronauts from the recovery ship to the mobile quarantine

facility and then to the crew reception area of the lunar receiving laboratory.48

Expectations were borne out by the results of the simulation. Scores of faults,

most of them minor but some of them critical, emerged in both equipment and

procedures. 49 Among the more serious problems was contamination of the first

work station—the vacuum chamber in which the lunar sample containers were

opened. Somehow minute traces of organic matter had found their way into the

system, threatening to vitiate the search for indigenous organic material in the

samples. Worse yet, the level of contamination was not constant, so the investigators could not correct their findings for it. When it appeared that the contamination came from the vacuum pumping system, investigators began to consider

alternatives to opening the sample containers under vacuum to keep the lunar

material in pristine condition. The best choice seemed to be to fill the chamber

124
Final Preparations: 1968

with a gas (sterile nitrogen) that would not interfere with subsequent analyses.10

The receiving laboratory staff continued to work on the many details of laboratory operation throughout the spring. Progress continued toward certification of

the quarantine facilities and back-contamination procedures. 51 By the time the

interagency committee met on June 5, MSC had completed action on most of the

outstanding questions and the committee granted certification of the lunar receiving laboratory as a biological containment facility. 52 The launch of Apollo 11 was

only five weeks away when another mission simulation got under way in the

laboratory, with only minor technical problems remaining to be worked out.53

Considering the technical sophistication of the receiving laboratory and the rigorous procedures for handling the lunar samples, it is hardly surprising that problems persisted as long as they did. Management arrangements contributed as

well; the outside scientists who were intimately involved in examination and distribution of the samples could not spend full time at MSC, making continuity

of activity more difficult. Wilmot Hess was sensitive to the need for close cooperation between MSC and the outside scientific community, and the relationships

established in the two years before the first landing went a long way toward

alleviating the problem.

Quarantine and back-contamination control added to the overall complexity.

Without a doubt, most engineers and lunar scientists at MSC took the backcontamination problem much less seriously than did the interagency committee—

which, unfortunately for the engineers, had the authority to impose its requirements on the program. The reemergence in early 1969 of concern with backcontamination during recovery operations can be attributed to the committee's

perception that MSC was not cooperating to solve the problem because the

engineers considered it unimportant. 54 In the end, the committee yielded at least

as much as the engineers on the question of biological containment, but it required

considerable effort and tactful interaction with the committee to produce that

result.

The start of operations in the receiving laboratory coincided with a period of

retrenchment in NASA, and technical difficulties were compounded by personnel problems. Rising budget deficits in the last two years of Lyndon Johnson's

administration had alarmed Congress and put a real squeeze on federal programs,

not excepting NASA's. Apollo suffered less than other programs, 55 but it was

not completely immune to economy measures. Ever since authorization hearings

began in early 1968 the field centers had been under pressure to reduce expenditures and cut staff. 56 MSC's inability to add professional staff in the receiving

laboratory affected more than just the science. Four months before Apollo 11 flew,

the Office of Manned Space Flight's operations forecast for 1969 showed lunar

landing missions being launched at two- to three-month intervals after the first.

Gilruth took exception, however, advising Headquarters that, with its current

complement of professionals, the lunar receiving laboratory could support a lunar

mission only once every four months and that only if all went well during each

quarantine period. 17 The laboratory had enough professional staff to operate only

two fully productive shifts a day; a third "holding shift" was manned principally

by technicians, who maintained the laboratory but did not continue processing

the samples.58

125
20° 300 400 E

10-N

-50N

0°

- 5°S

10°S

2005

40°W 300

200

100 00 100

Where No Man Has Gone Before

Nonetheless, on June 4, 1969, mission operating conditions were established

in the laboratory, 59 and a Task Group was formed to direct operations during

the Apollo 11 mission. 60 With the launch date for Apollo 11 inexorably approaching, the laboratory staff continued to refine sample-handling procedures and work

on the last remaining technical problems.

Picking Landing Sites

Landing site evaluation had begun as soon as photographs from the first Lunar

Orbiters became available (see Chapter 6). By March 1967 MSC's Lunar and Earth

Sciences Division had prepared a short list of candidate sites,* which it presented

to the Apollo Site Selection Board. Operational considerations predominated at

this stage of planning; the sites were all within the "Apollo zone of interest"

(5 degrees north to 5 degrees south latitude, 45 degrees east to 45 degrees west

longitude) and appeared from the Orbiter photographs to be comparatively level

and smooth. MSC recommended that sites for the first landing be chosen from

that list by August 1. The board accepted that recommendation .61 For the rest of

the year the Apollo Site Selection Board worked steadily, with input from BellNASA-S-67-6938

SET B MISSION I

APOLLO ZONE OF INTEREST

—^ , 20°N

Eight lunar landing sites recommended by MSC in March 1967 for further evaluation. Sites selected

from Lunar Orbiter photographs were designated primary (P) or secondary (S) according to apparent

merit; "17 P-6" was the sixth primary site chosen from the Lunar Orbiter II photographs.

—Landing sites," as somewhat loosely used in the following discussion, corresponds more nearly

to the "landing areas" previously mentioned (Chap. 6). However, within the larger areas studied,

MSC evaluators did examine several specific landing ellipses—"sites," in the sense that term was

used before.

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126 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
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BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH Final Preparations: 1968

comm, the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, the U.S. Geological Survey, and the Group

for Lunar Exploration Planning, evaluating additional photographs from Lunar

Orbiters as they became available." Meanwhile MSC continued to study the

operational constraints of its chosen sites; planners were mainly concerned with

slopes and irregularities in the terrain along the approaches to the sites, which

could interfere with the lunar module's landing radar. The data necessary to make

the final choice of sites (principally topographic maps) were slow in coming,

however, and MSC could not meet the August 1 date it had proposed. 62 Instead

the site selection board met at Houston on December 15 to decide on sites for the

first two missions and to lay out a schedule for future activities.

MSC presented the results of its studies on approach paths, which showed that

all the "Set B" sites were acceptable. Simulations showed that the lunar module's landing radar could guide the spacecraft to a landing at any of the eight

sites. A considerable part of the discussion dealt with the number of sites to be

retained in planning for each mission. At this stage no one could be sure that

every mission would be launched on time. If a technical malfunction caused a

countdown to be stopped, up to 66 hours' delay in launching might be necesFive lunar landing sites from set B (p. 126) recommended by MSC in December 1967 for the first

landing mission.

*Lunar Orbiters 111, IV, and V, launched on Feb. 4, May 4, and Aug. 1, 1967, all returned photographs used in Apollo landing site selection. Four more Surveyors were landed by early 1968 as well;

although they were mainly equipped for scientific studies, they also provided Apollo with useful

data on properties of lunar soil.

127
Where No Man Has Gone Before

sary, in which case a more westerly landing site would have to be substituted

for the original. This entailed complications in other aspects of mission

preparation—it required the astronauts to become familiar with three different

landing approaches and geologic areas, for example, and increased the requirements for maps and other data—but the alternative was to postpone the launch

for at least a month.63

After summing up the detailed evaluations, John E. Eggleston, chief of MSC's

Lunar and Earth Sciences Division, recommended five of the best sites ("Set C")

for the first landing mission and another six for the second, which the board

approved .14 Eggleston and Wilmot Hess, chief of MSC's Science and Applications Directorate, then directed the board's attention to the need to begin evaluating sites for the third and subsequent missions. Landing areas topographically

different from those already chosen should be examined. Evaluation of highland

sites in or near the Apollo zone should be started. Board chairman Sam Phillips

agreed in principle that the third mission could be more ambitious, but he advised

planners to stay on the conservative side for the time being and look for science

targets in the areas covered by the Set B sites. A U.S. Geologic Survey representative suggested that in some cases shifting the landing point only a few kilometers within a selected area would bring the astronaut-explorers within walking

distance of some scientifically interesting features. He also pointed out that if the

first landing was made in an eastern mare the second should be targeted to a

western one, since maria showed different characteristics in the two regions.6s

From early 1968 onward the site selection teams would get only limited additional lunar photography, since after the fifth* no more Orbiters would be flown.

Orbiter photographic coverage, however, was not comprehensive; it did not cover

every interesting site with sufficient resolution to permit detailed evaluation. Until

the middle of 1967 the Office of Manned Space Flight was planning to fly an

advanced lunar mapping and survey system that would furnish more detailed

coverage of a greater portion of the lunar surface; but in August its potential value

to Apollo was judged to be marginal and its further development was canceled

to save money. 66 The following March, however, Sam Phillips noted a continuing need for lunar photography and asked MSC to consider how it might be

provided by astronauts in lunar orbit on scheduled Apollo flights .67 Houston

enumerated several types of cameras and film that could be useful in site selection and in lunar cartography, and scientific interpretation as well. 68 Planning

was started for a considerable amount of lunar surface photography, including

candidate sites for future landings, to be conducted on every manned lunar

mission.

Looking Beyond the First Landings

As 1967 ended, the short list of sites for the first manned lunar landing had

been approved and a longer list for the second mission had been tentatively

*Launched Aug. 1, 1967, Lunar Orbiter V completed its photographic mission on Aug. 18 and crashed

into the moon Jan 31, 1968.

128
Landing sites under consideration in late 1969.

ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITi= PHOTOGRAPH Final Preparations: 1968

selected. The site selection board would continue to work with flight planners

and scientists to narrow down the choices. Meanwhile, as evidenced by the comments of Eggleston and Hess at the December meeting of the site selection board,

attention was shifting to planning for the later missions.

As early as April 1967, the Manned Spacecraft Center's Science and Applications Directorate had put together a plan for lunar scientific exploration, to identify the scientific observations essential to basic understanding of the moon. As

guidelines, the review used the fifteen scientific questions about the moon formulated by the Woods Hole summer study of 1965 (see Appendix 3). The plan

envisioned eight manned lunar missions, including one orbital mission which

would take photographs and gather data with remote sensors, arranged in a logical geological sequence and spaced to allow scientists to digest the results of each

mission before executing the next. No more than three landings in the "Apollo

zone" were contemplated, and a highland area rather than a mare might be considered as early as the third landing. Both geological exploration by the astronauts

and emplacement of instruments for long-term data collection were contemplated.

The plan concluded that each mission should stay long enough to accomplish

the scientific tasks planned for it; there was no point in staying 14 days unless

the extra time could be put to good use. Short-range mobility aids for the

astronauts, such as a one-man flying vehicle, would be necessary for later

missions, but there was no real need for a vehicle that could cover hundreds of

kilometers.69

The MSC plan was partly an effort to focus local attention on hardware and

mission planning requirements for the later scientific flights, partly a contribution to higher-level agency planning. Throughout 1967 a joint study team from

SITE

IFICATION

UMBER

I ABULFEDA

2 ALPHONSUS

3' APOLLO 2

4 APOLLO 3

5 APOLLO 4

6"' APOLLO 5

7 • APOLLO 6R iFLAMSTEED P)

B' APOLLO 7

9 ARISTARCHUS PLATEAU

10- NORTHWEST OF CENSORINUS

11' COPERNICUS PEAKS

12 COPERNICUS CD

13' DESCARTES

14 DIONYSIUS

15' FRA MAURO FM

16 GASSENDI (WEST)

17 GASSENDI (EAST)

18 GAUDIBERT A

19 HADLEY RILLE

20 HIPPARCHUS

21" HYGIN US

22' LITTROW AREA

23' MARIUS HILLS

24 MOSTING C

25 RIMA BODE 11

26 RIMA PRINZ 1

27 SCHR6TER'S VALLEY

28 SOUTH OF ALEXANDER

29 TOBIAS MAYER

30' NORTH OF TYCHO

31" DAVY RILLE

32" LALANDE

'PRIME SITE

"ALTERNATE SITE

"'RECYCLE SITE

129
Where No Man Has Gone Before

the Offices of Manned Space Flight and Space Science and Applications in Headquarters had been working on the same question, in collaboration with Wilmot

Hess and the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning (formed after the 1967 Santa

Cruz conference; see Chapter 7). 70 In February 1968 Headquarters issued its own

lunar exploration plan through the new Apollo Lunar Exploration Office. This

plan, more comprehensive than MSC's, outlined a strategy for lunar exploration

including and extending beyond currently planned Apollo missions.

Headquarters' strategy called for a combination of orbital and surface missions

to photograph and map structural features of interest and collect representative

samples, emplace a network of geophysical instruments for long-term monitoring of the moon, and carry out long-range traverses to link local and regional

studies together. The lunar exploration program would be evolutionary, stressing initial use of existing equipment, extending its useful life, and introducing

new developments as required. Desirable modifications included upgrading the

Saturn V to increase its lunar payload by 12 to 15 percent; extending power and

life-support systems on the lunar module to support astronauts for three days

on the moon; and reducing the lander's conservative propulsion allocations, as

experience warranted, to increase scientific payload."

The plan projected several new developments to extend the range of exploration and increase the amount of useful work the astronauts could perform: oneman flying units, a small roving vehicle, a local scientific survey module with

longer range that could be operated remotely, and a dual-launch system using

two Saturn Vs. The second (unmanned) booster of a dual-launch mission could

carry either a lunar payload module providing extra scientific equipment or an

extended lunar module with additional expendables for life support, to be landed

at the selected exploration site. The proposed schedule called for introducing the

extended lunar module, which could support three-day stays on the moon and

would carry short-range mobility aids, by mid-1971. Thereafter no more than two

missions per year should be flown, new capabilities being added as early as possible within budgetary limitations. Sites for nine missions of special scientific

interest requiring systematic increases in mission capability were described in an

appendix. *72

Estimates of what such a program would cost were necessarily tentative, but

the report calculated upper and lower limits based on current assumptions about

production of Saturn Vs and spacecraft. Over the next eight fiscal years, new

payloads and additional spacecraft and launch vehicles would cost from $4.20

billion to $5.54 billion, depending on which Apollo mission made the first landing. Funding was expected to peak in fiscal 1972 at $1 billion to $1.3 billion.73

Lee Scherer, head of the Lunar Exploration Program Office, toured NASA installations in March to brief center officials of the plan. His first stop was in Houston, and afterwards MSC Director Robert Gilruth offered his center's comments

to George Mueller, calling the plan "thoughtfully developed, well integrated,

*The sites, identified by the names of nearby craters or other physical features, were: Censorinus,

Littrow, Abulfeda, Hyginus, Appenine front-Hadley Rille, Tycho, Schroeter's Valley, Marius Hills,

and Copernicus. Hadley Rille and a site near Littrow were visited by 3-day Apollo missions.

130
Final Preparations: 1968

[and] unified." His sole reservation was that the funds provided for the next year

seemed inadequate to make a real start immediately:

I believe the FY 1969 budget requested should be increased to the amount that

can be spent wisely to initiate procurement activities to support the program.

Without additional monies early, the proposed flight dates will be very difficult to achieve. More serious, however, the impression may be created that

the program can wait another year to really get started.74

A month later Gilruth again urged that Mueller start development for the

advanced Apollo missions. Reminding Mueller of the President's Science Advisory Committee's public statement* that only two or three lunar landing missions

with the basic Apollo systems could be justified, Gilruth emphasized that

additional stay time, mobility, and scientific payload are considered essential

for later missions to produce adequate scientific payload to justify the mission.... In order to obtain the increased capabilities ... a small but significant amount of funds must be committed in FY 1969.

Both the lunar flying unit and the extended lunar module could benefit from

additional funds in the current fiscal year. Acknowledging a general reluctance

in Headquarters to propose "new starts" (projects not already approved by Congress for Apollo), Gilruth nonetheless urged Mueller to start on an unmanned

logistic support system.** Should development be postponed, he said,

it appears to us that the alternatives to significantly more money for lunar exploration ... in FY 1969 will all be very embarrassing to NASA in 1971.

If the longer, more productive missions could not be conducted because the

systems had not yet been developed, the choices might all be unattractive: dual

missions of standard Apollo equipment at excessive expense, single Apollo missions of limited productivity—certain to draw criticism from the scientists—or intervals of a year or more between launches, which would make it difficult to maintain

launch capability at the Cape.75

Mueller had presented the basic lunar exploration plan to the House Manned

Space Flight subcommittee earlier in February, but with no details of schedule

or budget. It had provoked little discussion. About a logistic support system, he

said only that it continued to be an objective and that studies would continue

to determine the best way to carry larger scientific payloads and support longer

stays on the lunar surface .71

If anyone had reason to be pleased with the lunar exploration plan, the lunar

scientists did. To provide scientific advice to Scherer's planners, the Group for

Lunar Exploration Planning had met for two days in January 1968 to create a list

of recommendations based on the conclusions of the Santa Cruz conference the

*In its report, The Space Program in the Post-Apollo Period, published in February 1967; see Chapter 7.

**In 1962 Joseph Shea, Deputy Director for Systems in the Office of Manned Space Flight, had

helped to secure Wernher von Braun's support for lunar orbit rendezvous by suggesting that Marshall

Space Flight Center develop a logistic support system and a lunar roving vehicle; see Courtney G.

Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), pp. 80-81.

131
Where No Man Has Gone Before

previous summer. The plan issued in February incorporated virtually every major

recommendation they made—the extended lunar module, the lunar flying unit,

and the logistic support system—and included the most favored science sites."

Extended lunar exploration would not be delayed by lack of cooperation at the

Manned Spacecraft Center. Gilruth's recorded reaction to the plan seems to show

that Houston was ready to participate fully in conducting it. But at Headquarters

George Mueller seemed less eager to move rapidly. Mueller had many other problems in 1968; the Saturn V had not yet been fully qualified, and both the command module and lunar module had problems yet to be solved. 78 Against that

background, Mueller was not in a hurry to seek approval of plans to modify the

lunar spacecraft before the principal objective had been achieved. At the same

time he was working hard to establish a post-Apollo program that Congress would

support.79

Mission Planning and Operations, 1968

Site evaluation continued throughout 1968, with considerable attention given

to reducing the number of potential landing sites being considered. Keeping five

sites as alternatives created problems in providing the necessary maps, photographs, and terrain models for the simulators. On the other hand, until the team

at the Cape could be sure of on-time launches, alternate sites had to be kept

in the plans to avoid a month's delay in launching a mission.80

Experience alone would answer many of the critical questions, and in the last

half of 1968 some very important experience was gained. By early fall the reworked

command and service module was ready for an earth-orbital test. The 11-day flight

of Apollo 7 (October 11-22) was successful in all respects, demonstrating the performance of spacecraft, crew, and mission support facilities in extended earthorbital flight. Among other critical activities, the crew simulated rendezvous with

the S-IVB stage (which would carry the lunar module on a lunar landing mission) and fired the service module engine eight times without failure. That was

especially gratifying, because if that engine failed the spacecraft could neither

enter lunar orbit for a lunar landing nor return from lunar orbit after completing

a landing mission.81

Even before Apollo 7 flew, project officials made one of the more daring decisions of the entire program: to send a crew to orbit the moon on the first manned

flight of the Saturn V. Planners had long felt the need for such a mission to verify

communications and navigation at lunar distances. In the alphabetical scheme

of flights (see Chapter 7), the "E" (fifth) mission was to approximate these conditions in high earth orbit. In August, MSC Apollo manager George Low set his

people to work plans to extend the flight to lunar orbit. In a week of intensive

discussions no "show-stoppers" emerged, and neither Marshall nor Kennedy

Space Center officials expressed any reservations about it. By mid-month, Houston had clearance from Headquarters to prepare for a "C-prime" mission, contingent on successful qualification of the spacecraft on Apollo 7. The lunar flight,

to be designated Apollo 8, would take a manned command and service module

into orbit around the moon, check out critical systems at lunar distances, and

return.82

132
Final Preparations: 1968

It had to be done sooner or later, and as more than one official mentioned during the planning discussions, it was essential to assuring a successful lunar landing by the end of 1969. Yet the decision to send men to the moon on the Saturn

V's third flight seems almost breathtaking. The flight record of the big booster

at the time (two flights, one completely successful, the other plagued by malfunctions) was enough to give managers pause; and the risks to be taken on a

lunar mission were far more serious than those of an earth-orbital mission. Still,

among NASA officials and Apollo contractor executives, no serious doubts were

raised about sending Apollo 8 to the moon at the end of 1968.83

The first men ever to see the moon at close range, Frank Borman, James A.

Lovell, Jr., and William A. Anders, left Launch Complex 39A at Kennedy Space

Center early in the morning of December 21, 1968, aboard Apollo command module 103. Four days later they fired their main propulsion engine and the spacecraft became a captive of the moon's gravity, in an elliptical orbit which they later

changed to a near-circular orbit 60 nautical miles (111 kilometers) above the surface. For the next 20 hours they took photographs, relayed their visual observations and descriptions of the topography back to Mission Control, and gave

viewers on Earth spectacular television views of the moon and of their home

planet. On Christmas day in the early morning, at the end of the 10th trip around

the moon, they fired the service module engine once more to return to Earth.

The success of this maneuver prompted Lovell to notify Houston, "Please be

informed there is a Santa Claus. "84 Had it failed, he and his crewmates would

have remained where they were, circling the moon until their oxygen ran out.

The space program was spared that grisly possibility, however, and the propulsion burn was so accurate that only one of three planned course-correction maneuvers had to be conducted on the way back—an adjustment of 4.8 feet per second

(1.5 meters per second). After an uneventful return trip, they splashed down

before dawn on December 27 in the Pacific Ocean, less than three miles (4.8 kilometers) from the recovery ship .15

As the climax of nearly two years of painful recovery from the tragedy of AS-204,

Apollo 8 was a triumph the American space program badly needed. It not only

restored the prestige of NASA and boosted the morale of the entire Apollo work

force, it provided the confidence in spacecraft and ground-support systems that

no other, less daring, mission could have provided. About all that remained before

the first landing was to prove that the lunar module could carry out its part of

the mission; two flights in 1969 would test that last important link in the system.

Besides its operational tasks, Apollo 8 had some photographic assignments that

would give flight planners additional information about potential landing sites

and settle important questions about the use of landmarks to determine the

spacecraft's position. Overlapping vertical and oblique photographs were taken

to determine the elevation and geographical position of features on the far side,

information needed for accurate determination of the lunar module's position

before it descended for a landing (see Chapter 6). The crew was also given a list

of photographic targets of opportunity, selected from sites of scientific interest,

to supplement the imagery from Lunar Orbiter IV. Although the photographic

objectives were not completely fulfilled, the pictures returned by Apollo 8 added

considerably to the store of knowledge about lunar surface features.86

133
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Equally valuable were the crew's visual observations of landmarks and potential landing sites. Their reports on the sharpness of landmarks, the ease of locating them, and the topographic details that could be seen from 60 nautical miles,

reduced many of the uncertainties about what a lunar landing crew might be able

to do by eye. Among other things, Borman's crew determined that lighting constraints (the allowable sun angle for optimum visibility) were on the conservative side; they found no difficulty in observing surface details at sun angles of

2 to 3 degrees, considerably less than the 6 degrees adopted as a lower limit. They

reported that the maps and photographs they carried, together with last-minute

instructions from the ground, were adequate for locating surface features.87

The Apollo Decade Draws to a Close

The Apollo 8 crew was still debriefing when 1969 came around, the last year

of the decade set by John Kennedy for accomplishing the manned lunar landing

and return. Early projections of the 1969 launch schedule called for five missions,

spaced just over two months apart .81 The progress made in 1968 suggested that

most preparations for the first landing could be made sometime during the year.

Of the major components of the Apollo system, only the lunar module remained

to be checked out.

For the most part, science had yielded to operations during the year. To provide some leeway for increases in the weight of the lunar module, and to avoid

overtaxing the astronauts on a mission that still contained many unknowns, the

lunar surface experiments had been simplified. The original "ALSEP" (Apollo

lunar surface experiments package) had been reduced to an "EASEP" (early

Apollo scientific experiments package). Enough suitable landing sites had been

picked to provide alternatives in case of launch delays, increasing the chances

of launching a mission during a given month's opportunity in spite of any technical problems that might halt the countdown before liftoff. But the sites were

chosen for maximum probability of successful landing, not for their immediate

scientific interest. Even so, no one would argue that whatever samples of lunar

material the first astronauts were able to return would not be of extraordinary

interest to scientists.

But if science yielded to operational considerations, it received in return the

assurance that missions after the second—perhaps after the first—would include

as much science as the system could accommodate. The organizational mechanism was in place and functioning to assure that mission plans encompassed scientific objectives as far as possible. If the first landing attempt should be successful,

enough launch vehicles and spacecraft were in the pipeline to conduct nine more

landings. Project officials at the Manned Spacecraft Center were ready to extend

the duration of missions as much as the hardware would allow without major

redesign and were urging Headquarters to start work on mobility aids, to extend

the range an astronaut could cover on the moon. As soon as they had the operational experience to justify it, MSC managers were willing to do more than merely

land a human on the moon and return him safely to earth.

134
9

PRIMARY MISSION ACCOMPLISHED: 1969

Crew Activities, 1968-1969

Crews for the early Apollo manned missions were named in 1966, but their

assignments were canceled after the spacecraft fire in January 1967. Missionspecific training languished for a while, but in early May 1967 the crew of Apollo

7 was selected and began preparing for their earth-orbital mission. Deke Slayton, director of flight crew operations at MSC, expedited training by assigning

a third group of astronauts (a support crew) to each flight (see Appendix 6). The

support crew assisted the prime and backup crews in training, doing a great deal

of necessary but time-consuming work: maintaining the flight data file (flight plan,

check lists, and mission ground rules); keeping the prime and backup crews

advised of all changes; helping training officers to work out procedures on the

simulators before the prime crews used them; and generally taking a load of details

off the prime and backup crews.' Experience and seniority appeared to be the

major factors in Slayton's choice of crews. For the first three missions, prime and

backup crews were chosen from the first three groups of pilots selected; all commanders had flight experience in Gemini. Support crewmen were all from the

fourth group of pilots.' The scientist-astronauts, who ranked fourth in seniority

but last in experience, had varied assignments, participating in design reviews

and preflight tests and working on plans for Apollo Applications experiments;

geologist Jack Schmitt spent much of his time working on site selection.3

A Second Group of Scientist-Astronauts

George Mueller was making ambitious projections for the Apollo Applications

Program in 1966, and if they developed, more scientists would be needed for its

crews. In September 1966 the National Academy of Sciences and NASA

announced that applications for a second group of scientist-astronauts would be

accepted (see Chapter 5). Nearly a thousand hopefuls applied; the Academy's

selection committee forwarded 69 names to NASA in March 1967, and five months

later 11 new astronaut trainees, 9 Ph.D.s and 2 M.D.s, were named (see Appendix 6). The group contained not a single qualified pilot; after six months of orientation and basic "ground school" training at MSC, they would all be sent to Air

Force flight training.¢

Addition of this class of candidates brought the astronaut corps to a strength

of 56—more than Apollo seemed to need, since no more than 10 lunar missions

135
Where No Man Has Gone Before

were contemplated.* The qualifications of the new group—who were mostly physicists, astronomers, or physicians, not earth scientists—suggests that MSC was

preparing for Apollo Applications missions rather than lunar exploration. When

they were chosen in mid-1967, however, even that prospect was growing dim

and would be dimmer yet by the time they had finished flight training. Headquarters program officials continued to talk of frequent Apollo Applications missions,' and Slayton had to be prepared to supply crews for whatever missions

should be assigned and to anticipate some degree of attrition. On the other hand,

if the program did not materialize as planned, the astronaut corps would be overstaffed and many aspiring space explorers would have small chance of flying in

space. That could be an especially touchy point with scientists, who risked their

careers by enlisting as astronauts.** In interviews with the scientist applicants,

Slayton tried not to raise their expectations about the availability of flight assignments, to the point of frankly admitting that the astronaut corps had no urgent

need for them at the moment. With that understanding, however, they were welcome in Houston, because the astronaut corps needed all kinds of talent to support MSC's missions. 6 Members of the new group soon dubbed themselves "The

Excess Eleven," or "XSXI. '

Crew Training and Flight Operations

Crews for both Apollo 9 and Apollo 10 were in training as 1969 began; on January 9 a third was named, for Apollo 11. Since November 1967 the prime crew

of Apollo 9—James A. McDivitt, David R. Scott, and Russell L. Schweickarthad been following their spacecraft through assembly and rehearsing the complex procedures of orbital rendezvous. Both McDivitt (who came in with the second group of astronauts) and Scott were veterans, each having flown a Gemini

mission that had paved the way for rendezvous and docking operations.

Schweickart, like Scott, was a "Fourteen" (third group); he had not yet flown

a mission but had participated extensively in the development testing of the space

suit. The crew of Apollo 10, named on November 12, 1968, was the first in the

entire manned space flight program composed entirely of experienced astronauts:

Thomas P. Stafford, John W. Young, and Eugene A. Cernan. Stafford, the first

of his class to fly two orbital missions, and Young, who had also flown twice,

were from the second astronaut class; Cernan, from the third group, had a single flight. They were also the first crew to be promoted as a unit, having served

as backup crew on Apollo 7. The crew for Apollo 11, also all veterans, consisted

*Given Slayton's system of promoting a backup crew to prime crew three missions later, and assuming that no crewman would be assigned to more than one mission in any capacity, 10 lunar missions

would have required 55 astronauts (if support crews later became backup and prime crews). Slayton's preference for flight experience in crew members, however, makes that assumption questionable; hence fewer astronauts could have filled the positions on prime, backup, and support crews.

On the 7 lunar landing missions flown, 39 astronauts filled 63 available crew positions.

**So did the pilot-astronauts, for that matter, but provision was made for them to keep their professional skills (flying) well honed as part of the program. The scientists enjoyed no such concession,

as was repeatedly pointed out by NASA's outside scientific consultants.

136
Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969

of Neil A. Armstrong from the second group and Edwin E. ("Buzz") Aldrin, Jr.,

and Michael Collins from the third. Armstrong and Aldrin had been on the backup

crew for Apollo 8; the third member of that crew, Fred W. Haise, was replaced

by Collins on the flight crew because Deke Slayton wanted an experienced pilot

in the command module for Apollo 11, which, if all went well, would most likely

be the first mission to attempt a lunar landing .7

The success of Apollo 8 left only the qualification of the lunar module to be accomplished before a lunar landing could be attempted. In the alphabetical sequence

of missions adopted a year before (see Chapter 7), the next mission ("D") was

to fly both the command/service module and the lunar module, to check out all

LM systems and rendezvous techniques in earth orbit. This, according to 1967

plans, would be followed by missions "E" (combined CSM/LM operations in

high earth orbit, later discarded in favor of the "C-prime" mission, Apollo 8,

which did not carry a lunar module) and "F" (all operational procedures of a

landing mission except the actual landing). On the "F" mission the crew would

take the lunar module down to 50,000 feet (15,240 meters) above the moon, get

as good a look as possible at the proposed landing site for the first mission, and

return to lunar orbit for rendezvous with the command module.8

Mission "D" (Apollo 9) would be the most complex yet flown, involving the

checkout of two spacecraft at the Cape and simultaneous operations with two

vehicles in orbit. An additional objective was operational checkout of the extravehicular space suit and the portable life-support system that lunar explorers

would use on the moon's surface.9

Apollo 9 was launched on March 3, 1969, for 10 busy days of operations. After

extracting their lunar module from the S-IVB stage, McDivitt and his crewmates

performed numerous tests of the engines on both modules, assessing the dynamic

behavior of the linked spacecraft as well as the performance of the propulsion

systems. On the third day they separated the vehicles and began independent

operations, testing the LM systems, and carrying out a complete docking maneuver, all successfully. Schweickart's tests of the extravehicular space suit and lifesupport system were equally gratifying. The most serious anomaly on the flight

was the appearance of motion sickness, which had also affected Apollo 8's crew.

Schweickart vomited twice and Scott reported being on the verge of nausea for

considerable time after reaching orbit. Some tasks had to be cut short on this

account, but even so, all the primary mission objectives were satisfied. The Apollo

9 command module came down on March 13 within three miles (4.8 kilometers)

of the target point in the western Atlantic.10

Two months later, launch operations crews at Kennedy Space Center were getting ready for the final countdown for Saturn no. 505, the launch vehicle for Apollo

10. This mission was to "confirm all aspects of the lunar landing mission exactly

as it would be performed, except for the actual descent, landing, lunar stay, and

ascent from the lunar surface." Besides giving the entire mission support team

one more workout, it would also allow the manned space flight network to track

the spacecraft as it orbited the moon, to provide a more accurate description of

the irregular lunar gravitational field. * 11 On May 18, the big booster sent CSM

*Analysis of irregularities in the orbits of Lunar Orbiter IV had revealed gravity anomalies attributed

to concentrations of mass ("mascons") at certain locations on the moon; they were sufficiently large

137
Where No Man Has Gone Before

_jw_

Charles Duke checks the fit of his extravehicular garment.

to deflect the path of a lunar module. Results from Apollo 10 would be helpful in developing the

capability to land precisely at a targeted spot, which mission planners considered essential for the

later missions.

ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH 138
Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969

106 and lunar module LM-4, with Tom Stafford and his crew aboard, toward the

moon on a near-perfect trajectory—one designed to duplicate the path to be taken

by the first landing mission. Indicative of the pace of the program in early 1969,

even before Apollo 10 reached the moon, Cape crews trundled out Saturn 506,

the Apollo 11 launch vehicle, to Launch Complex 39A and began preparing it

for its epoch-making flight, 12

Stafford, Cernan, and Young carried out their pathfinding mission with remarkably few problems. On the fifth day the lunar module separated from the command module to photograph the approach path, verify the operation of the

landing radar, and survey the first landing site* from low altitude. They reported

that the landing radar worked as advertised and that the first astronauts to attempt

a lunar landing should have no problems finding a smooth level spot in the eastern end of the site; farther west, however, they might have to maneuver to find

a boulder- and crater-free area to touch down. That evaluation completed, Stafford

and Cernan took their Iunar module back into orbit, checking out the abort guidance system as they left low orbit. After rejoining John Young in the command

module they headed back to earth, splashing down on May 26 in the Pacific Ocean

some 400 miles (650 kilometers) east of Pago Pago.13

Apollo 11 Crew Makes Ready

As backup crew for Apollo 8 since late 1968, the prime crew of Apollo 11 had

already rehearsed many of the procedures for a lunar mission; but as the first

crew that would attempt a lunar landing, they had to prepare for much more.

From January 9, when they were named, until launch day their days were filled

with activity: briefings on all the spacecraft systems, fitting of spacesuits, lessons

in geology and astronavigation, rehearsal of procedures for rendezvous, practicing unloading the lunar surface experiments, and whatever else the training

officers could squeeze into their schedule. For some time they had little access

to their primary training devices, the lunar module and command module simulators. Until March, when Apollo 9 flew, they were third in line for those simulators, and only after Apollo 10 was launched in May did they have first priority.14

For Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin and their counterparts in the backup crew,

practicing the lunar landing itself was among the most important parts of training. The lunar module pilots used a simulator built for the purpose by engineers

at Langley Research Center in Virginia. It consisted of a mockup of the lunar module, suspended by cables from a long overhead trestle so that all but one-sixth

of its weight was neutralized. Since it did not provide complete freedom of movement in all three directions, the Langley device was inferior as a lunar-module

simulator to the vehicle on which the mission commanders trained. 15 This freeflying lunar landing training vehicle (LLTV), developed at the Flight Research

Center in California and built by Bell Aerosystems, was a skeleton framework

of tubing supporting a control station, fitted in the center with a downwardthrusting jet engine to offset five-sixths of its weight and on the periphery of the

*Site II P-6 (see Chapter 8), just north of the equator in the southwestern part of Mare Tranquillitatis.

139
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Pete Conrad practices lunar landing in the lunar landing training vehicle (LLTV).

structure with a group of small thrusters to provide attitude and directional control. It was a skittish and somewhat unstable vehicle; on two occasions in 1968

pilots had to eject from it. 16 Nonetheless, it was the only device that could

accurately simulate the last few hundred feet of the lunar landing approach and

commanders of lunar landing missions and their backups were required to perform as many landings in the LLTV as time permitted.17

The crews went through many rehearsals of the lunar surface activity—

deploying the experiments and collecting surface samples—during the last few

months of training, but they were given comparatively little refresher work in

field geology. The last formal geology briefings for the Apollo 11 crew came in

mid-April. 111 As launch came closer, Armstrong became concerned about collecting samples and making scientific observations. When he expressed his fear that

he might do something wrong, MSC geologist Elbert King emphasized that everything he said and every specimen he collected would be valuable, simply because

he would be the first man ever to make scientific observations on the lunar sur140 _,^iGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
.W

.

W, "

ORIGINAL PAGE Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH

Apollo 11 commander Neil Armstrong practices collecting lunar suface samples.

face. King's advice was not to worry about making mistakes. If he talked as much

as possible about what he saw and collected all the samples he could, no reasonable scientist could fault his efforts.19

By the time the Apollo 10 crew left on their mission and the crew of Apollo

11 could get first priority on the simulators, training had become the "pacing

item" in the launch schedule. 20 Throughout May and June the spacecraft and

its launch vehicle went through preflight preparations with no major problems,

141
Where No Man Has Gone Before

staying on schedule for a July 16 launch, while crews spent long hours in the

simulators .21 When the White House proffered an invitation for the Apollo 10

and Apollo 11 crews to dine with the President, Deke Slayton was obliged to

notify Headquarters that taking one day out of the training regimen was likely to

cost a month's delay in launch .21 On June 9 the photomosaics of their landing

site were delivered to the Cape so that Armstrong and Aldrin could practice the

approach to their touchdown point in the lunar module simulator. 23 Armstrong

completed his required flights in the lunar landing training vehicle on June 16 .24

The final days wound down without major interruption, however. The Lunar

Receiving Laboratory was certified by the Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, two mobile quarantine facilities—including a spare, just in case—

were delivered to the recovery ship, and it appeared that humans would indeed

attempt a lunar landing as scheduled.25

The First Lunar Explorers

At 9:32 a.m. Eastern daylight time on July 16, 1969, Apollo 11 left Launch Complex 39A at Kennedy Space Center, bound for the moon. Four days later, at 4:18

p.m. EDT on July 20, Neil Armstrong skillfully set the lunar module Eagle down

in the Sea of Tranquility and reported, "Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle

has landed.' 126 For the next 10 minutes Armstrong and Aldrin were occupied with

several post-landing procedures, reconfiguring switches and systems. Armstrong

found time to report to Mission Control what he had been too busy to tell them

"The Eagle has wings!" said Neil Armstrong as the lunar module Eagle pulled away from command

module Columbia, on its way to the first manned lunar landing. Armstrong turned Eagle around so

that Mike Collins in Columbia could examine it for possible problems. Three long probes signaled

contact with the lunar surface just before touchdown.

®MCINAL PAGE

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Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969

during the landing: that he had manually flown the lunar module over the rockstrewn crater where the automatic landing system was taking it. Then he made

his first quick-look science report:

We'll get to the details of what's around here, but it looks like a collection

of just about every variety of shape, angularity, granularity, about every variety of rock you could find.... There doesn't appear to be too much of a general

color at all. However, it looks as though some of the rocks and boulders, of

which there are quite a few in the near area, it looks as though they're going

to have some interesting colors to them .... 27

After giving Houston as many clues as he could to the location of their module,

he added some more description:

The area out the left-hand window is a relatively level plain cratered with a

fairly large number of craters of the 5- to 50-foot variety, and some ridges—

small, 20, 30 feet high, I would guess, and literally thousands of little 1- and

2-foot craters around the area. We see some angular blocks out several hundred feet in front of us that are probably 2 feet in size and have angular edges.

There is a hill in view, just about on the ground track ahead of us. Difficult

to estimate, but might be half a mile or a mile .211

Armstrong and Aldrin then started preparing their spacecraft for takeoff, setting

up critical systems to be ready in case something happened and they had to leave

the lunar surface quickly. A short break in this activity gave Armstrong a chance

to pass along more information about the landing site:

... The local surface is very comparable to that we observed from orbit at this

sun angle, about 10 degrees sun angle, or that nature. It's pretty much without color. It's ... a very white, chalky gray, as you look into the zero-phase

line [directly toward the sun]; and it's considerably darker gray, more

like ... ashen gray as you look out 90 degrees to the sun. Some of the surface rocks in close here that have been fractured or disturbed by the rocket

engine plume are coated with this light gray on the outside; but where they've

been broken, they display a dark, very dark gray interio*; and it looks like

it could be country basalt .29

Setting up the spacecraft systems took another hour and a half to complete; then

they were ready to get out and explore. The flight plan called for them to eat

and then rest for four hours, but Aldrin called Mission Control to recommend

starting their surface exploration in about three hours' time. Houston concurred.30

Although they had been awake almost 11 hours and had gone through some

stressful moments during the landing,* it seemed too much to expect the first

men on the moon to take a nap before they made history.

While Armstrong and Aldrin tended to their postlanding chores, Mike Collins,

orbiting 60 nautical miles (112 kilometers) overhead in the command module

Columbia, had little to do. Houston enlisted his aid in an attempt to locate Eagle,

*While Armstrong was maneuvering to avoid a boulder field, alarms sounded in the lunar module

indicating that the computer was overloaded. Mission Control quickly told the crew to proceed. Then,

as fuel was running low, a dust cloud obscured the surface and Armstrong had to touch down without a good view of his landing spot.

143
Where No Man Has Gone Before

giving him the best map coordinates they could derive from the sketchy information available. With his navigational sextant Collins scanned several spots, without success; Columbia passed over the landing site too rapidly to allow him to

search the area thoroughly and he never found the lunar module. 31 Determination of its exact location had to wait for postmission analysis of Armstrong's

descriptions of the area and examination of the spacecraft's landing trajectory.

Getting ready to leave the lunar module took longer than the crew had anticipated. It was after 9:30 p.m. in Houston, an hour and a half later than they had

hoped, when they opened the hatch. Armstrong carefully worked his way out

onto the "porch," then climbed down the ladder, pausing on the lowest rung

to comment on the texture of the surface and the depth to which the footpads

had penetrated. At 9:56 p.m. he stepped onto the moon's surface, proclaiming,

"That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind"—inadvertently omitting an "a" before "man" and slightly changing the meaning he intended to

convey.32

Armstrong made a cursory inspection of the lunar module and reported his

reactions to the new environment. Aldrin then lowered a camera on the lunar

equipment carrier—a clothesline and pulley arrangement that seemed out of place

in the high-technology environment of Apollo—which Armstrong immediately

began using. Mission Control reminded him to scoop up the contingency sample, which he did. "I'll try to get a rock in here. Just a couple." He noted that

the collecting tool met resistance after penetrating a short distance into the surface material. He then stowed the sample in a bag that he tucked into a pocket

of his suit. To the scientists on earth he remarked, "Be advised that a lot of the

rock samples out here, the hard rock samples, have what appear to be vesicles

in the surface. Also, I am looking at one now that appears to have some sort of

phenocryst."*33

Aldrin then joined Armstrong on the surface, and they spent the next several

minutes inspecting the landing craft and reporting on its condition, adjusting to

the low lunar gravity and trying various ways of getting around on the surface.

After a brief commemorative ceremony (reading the plaque attached to the lunar

module) and a short conversation with President Richard Nixon, they began

unloading and emplacing the scientific instruments and collecting samples. They

supplemented earth's limited television view of their activities with descriptions

of what they were seeing and doing. On a couple of occasions they acted like

field geologists. Aldrin reported that he saw a rock that sparkled "like some kind

of biotite," but he "would leave that to further analysis."** After closely examining some rounded boulders near the spacecraft, Armstrong said they looked "like

basalt, and they have probably two percent white minerals in them.... And

*That is, the rocks had surface pits resembling those caused by the escape of gases from molten

material (which could indicate a volcanic origin), and one seemed to have a prominent embedded

crystal.

**This comment drew criticism from some scientists on the ground that biotite (a mica-like mineral)

could not have formed on the moon. The criticism was unwarranted, because Aldrin had not said

that it was biotite, but that it looked like biotite he had seen on field trips; the criticism was mildly

detrimental, because it made the next crew more reluctant to use technical terminology, with which

some of the astronauts felt uncomfortable anyway, in describing what they saw. H. H. Schmitt interview, May 30, 1984.

144
Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969

the thing that I reported as vesicular before, I don't believe that any

more.... they look like little impact craters where BB shot has hit the surface. "34

The geologists in Houston watching this surface activity on television were quite

pleased with the astronauts' performance. At one point Armstrong disappeared

from the field of view of the TV camera, causing some momentary anxiety at his

apparent departure from the plan. It turned out that some unusual rocks had

attracted his attention and he had gone off a few meters to collect them. That

was exactly the kind of thing the geologists had hoped people on the moon would

do.3s

By the time the crew had taken two core samples, again experiencing difficulty

in driving a sampling tool into the surface, and filled their sample return containers, Houston notified them that it was time to wind up their activity. Just

before midnight CapCom* Bruce McCandless told Aldrin to "head on up the

ladder," and at 12:11 a.m. Houston time both men and their samples were back

in the lunar module and the hatch was sealed. 36 Humanity's first excursion on

the surface of another celestial body had lasted 2 hours, 31 minutes, and 40

seconds.

Back inside the lunar module, Armstrong and Aldrin removed their lunar surface suits and portable life-support systems and used up their remaining film.

Houston passed up some more instructions in preparation for liftoff and tentatively signed off for the night, but before long CapCom Owen Garriott, who had

relieved McCandless, came on the line with some questions from the scientists

about the nature of the surface and the problems in driving sampling tools into

the surface. Three hours after they returned to the lunar module, the lunar

explorers finally were able to turn in for a few hours of fitful sleep.37

Next morning Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins spent most of their time setting

up Eagle and Columbia for liftoff and rendezvous. Before the lunar module left

the moon, however, Armstrong gave Mission Control a detailed description of

the landing approach path and landing area, in the hope of helping scientists

locate their exact landing spot, and summarized the characteristics of the soil and

rocks around the area.38

Liftoff and rendezvous went smoothly. When the two spacecraft were locked

together Collins cracked Columbia's oxygen supply valve and Aldrin opened the

lunar module's vent valve, to create a gas flow into the LM when the hatches

were opened—part of the procedure to minimize back-contamination—while

Aldrin and Armstrong vacuumed the lunar dust from their suits as best they could.

Their vacuum cleaner, a brush attached to the exhaust hose of the LM suit system, was not very powerful and the tenacious dust came off only with difficulty.

There was not nearly as much loose dust in the lunar module as they had expected

when they returned from the surface; evidently it stuck tightly to whatever it

touched. 39 They passed the rock boxes and other items over to Collins and then

clambered into the command module, where they removed their suits and stowed

them in the bags provided. After jettisoning the lunar module and straightening

"The "Capsule Communicator'—a term left over from the Mercury days when spacecraft were

called "capsules"—normally was the only person who talked to crews in space over the radio circuit.

All CapComs were astronauts, most often astronauts who had not yet flown. Appendix 6lists CapCom

assignments for all Apollo flights.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Technicians unload the first box of lunar samples from Apollo 11 at the entrance to the lunar receiving

laboratory, July 25, 1969.

up the command module, the three astronauts settled in for an uneventful trip

back to earth .40

In the early morning hours of July 24, 8 days, 3 hours, 18 minutes, and 18 seconds after leaving Kennedy Space Center, Columbia plopped down into the Pacific

Ocean about 200 nautical miles (515 kilometers) south of Johnston Island. Recovery crews from the U.S. S. Hornet arrived quickly and tossed the biological isolation garments into the spacecraft. After the cocooned astronauts emerged from

the spacecraft the swimmers swabbed the hatch down with Betadine (an organic

iodine solution); then astronauts and recovery personnel decontaminated each

other's protective garments with sodium hypochlorite solution. The biological

isolation garments were not uncomfortable in the recovery raft, but aboard the

helicopter they began accumulating heat. Both Collins and Armstrong felt that

they were approaching the limit of their tolerance by the time they reached the

ship. 41 An hour after splashdown they were inside the mobile quarantine facility. As soon as they had changed into clean flight suits, the astronauts went to

ORIGINAL PAGE

146 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969

The Apollo 11 mobile quarantine facility is unloaded from its C-141 transport.

the large window at the rear end of the mobile quarantine facility to accept the

nation's congratulations from President Nixon, who had flown out to the Hornet

to meet them.42

Meanwhile, recovery crews brought Columbia on board and connected it to the

astronauts' temporary home by means of a plastic tunnel. Through this, the film

magazines and sample return containers were taken into the quarantine trailer,

then passed out through a decontamination lock. Sample return container no.

2, holding the documented sample, was packed in a shipping container along

with film magazines and tape recorders and flown to Johnston Island, where it

was immediately loaded aboard a C-141 aircraft and dispatched to Ellington Air

Force Base near MSC. Six and a half hours later the other sample return container was flown to Hickam Air Force Base, Hawaii, and thence to Houston .43

Scientific Work Begins

The first sample container arrived in Houston late in the morning on July 25

and was delivered to the receiving laboratory shortly before noon. 44 The second

arrived from Hawaii that afternoon. 45 For the next few weeks the laboratory was

the center of more public attention, probably, than had been focused on any scientific installation in this century. As they had done since the Ranger project and

would continue to do throughout the space science program, reporters pressed

the scientists for interpretations of their preliminary observations. Obviously any

scientific conclusions would have to await detailed study; nonetheless, the scientists answered the journalists as best they could. One was reported to have charac147
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ORIGINAL PAGE

BACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH

The world's first lunar explorers debark from their recovery helicopter aboard the U.S. S. Hornet and

walk toward the mobile quarantine facility, encumbered by their biological isolation garments. These

were intended to protect the earth from any harmful microorganisms that the astronauts might have

picked up on the moon. They were abandoned on the next mission in favor of clean flight suits and

respirators.

terized the result as "instant science," noting that "We have to look at the stuff

and then walk into a news conference, where we should be fairly conservative

148
ORIGINAL PAGE Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969 BLACK AND WHITE r,-1JI'0GRAPH

The contents of the second sample return container from Apollo 11.

and reserved ... and we talk off the top of our heads, and we're bound to goof

some. "46

After initial inspection the sealed sample return container was transferred to

the vacuum laboratory and weighed (33 pounds, 6 ounces; 15.14 kilograms). Film

magazines were placed in an autoclave, to be exposed to a gaseous sterilant for

several hours before being sent to the photographic laboratory for processing.47

Technicians in the vacuum laboratory then started the container through the

process of preliminary examination. Before admitting it to the vacuum system,

they passed it through a two-step sterilization, first with ultraviolet light, then

with peracetic acid (a liquid biocide), after which it was rinsed with sterile water

and dried under nitrogen. Next it was passed through a vacuum lock into the

main vacuum chamber. Opening the box was delayed for some hours when the

pressure in the vacuum system could not be stabilized. Operators suspected a

leak in one of the gloves through which the samples were handled, which was

torn in several places.48

By midafternoon the next day, however, the leak had not worsened and the

scientists decided to proceed. At 3:45 p.m. on July 26, as geologists crowded

around the observation port at the work station, the cover was removed from

the sample return container. 49 The first glimpse of moon rocks was frustrating

because they were covered with fine dust that obscured their surface characteristics. About all that visual observation revealed was that they were irregular in

shape and angular, with slightly rounded edges.so

In addition to the rocks and dust, the sample return container held a solar-wind

collector* and two core tubes, with which Aldrin had obtained subsurface sam-

*This was a sheet of aluminum foil that was set out at the start of the astronauts' lunar surface

activity to trap particles of the solar wind. Dr. Johannes Geiss of the University of Berne, Switzerland, devised the experiment, which went on every mission; crews called it "the Swiss flag" because

it was unfurled along with the Stars and Stripes.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

ples. These had been least exposed to contaminants from earth and would provide the "bioprime" sample, a 100-gram (3.5-ounce) portion of lunar soil that

would be tested for its effects on a variety of living organisms. Core tubes and

solar-wind collector were sealed in stainless-steel cans, sterilized, and transferred

out of the vacuum laboratory."

The following week more preliminary data trickled out of the receiving laboratory as two teams of scientists (the lunar sample preliminary examination team,

or "LSPET," and the lunar sample analysis planning team, or "LSAPT") got

down to work. These groups would examine, characterize, photograph, and catalog the specimens and allocate samples to the 142 principal investigators. Working two shifts a day for a while, they determined how the larger rocks would

be divided and which ones should be sectioned, basing their judgment on the

requirements of the investigators and the availability of the different types of samples. While many members of these teams were later involved in specific investigations, their purpose at this stage was to match samples with research projects

to make most effective use of the samples .52

On July 27 technicians removed a rock from the box for low-level radiation counting, dislodging much of the dust from its surface. Geologists immediately classified the specimen as igneous (formed by melting). 53 It might be a fragment of

lava from a lunar volcanic flow or a rock produced by localized melting, such

as might result from a large meteorite crashing into the moon. Careful visual examination disclosed numerous small pits on the surface, as Armstrong had noted

during his excursion. The scientists tentatively identified three common minerals,

feldspar, pyroxene, and olivine, as the major constituents of the sample.54

Spectrographic analysis of a pinch of lunar dust indicated that the surface material from Tranquility Base was much like that analyzed two years earlier by Surveyor V.* Noteworthy characteristics of the sample included an abnormally high

proportion of titanium and relatively small quantities of some volatile elements,

which would be depleted in materials aggregated at high temperatures.

Microscopic examination of the powdery material ("fines") showed that more

than half of it was composed of tiny particles of glass—shiny spheres, rare

dumbbell-shaped beads, and sharp, angular needles and fragments.55

A few more tidbits emerged from the early work in the receiving laboratory,

among them the facts that the samples contained very little carbon (no more than

12 parts per million) and that some of the rocks had lain undisturbed on the lunar

surface for a million years or more."

Preliminary examination of samples and preparation of material for the investigators continued throughout August, aiming at distribution of experimental

material as soon as the quarantine protocols were completed. For the first few

days work in the laboratory went on as planned; some minor malfunctions in

the waste disposal system briefly threatened to break the biological containment

but were corrected without incident. 17 About the only potential equipment problem was the torn glove in the vacuum chamber. Since replacement was a time-

*The inactive Surveyor V sat some 25 kilometers (15.5 miles) north-northwest of Tranquility Base.

The last three Surveyors (V, VI, VII) carried instruments capable of identifying the major chemical

elements making up the surface material,; see Surveyor: Program Results, NASA SP-184 (Washington,

1969), pp. v-vi, 7, 271-350.

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Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969

consuming process, technicians jury-rigged a repair by slipping another glove

over the damaged one and taping the two together. 58 But before the first week

was out the gloves ruptured, exposing most of the samples in the system to the

atmosphere and sending two technicians into quarantine. 59 Work in the vacuum

laboratory was suspended while scientists and laboratory managers decided what

to do. Problems with the vacuum system had been experienced during premission simulations (see Chapter 8) and provision had been made to fill the chamber with sterile nitrogen gas; that alternative was now adopted.60

The Astronauts in Quarantine

After the President and other celebrities departed, the U.S. S. Hornet continued

steaming back to Hawaii, arriving at Pearl Harbor on the afternoon of July 26.

The mobile quarantine facility with its five passengers* was hoisted off the ship

onto a truck for transfer to Hickam Air Force Base a few miles away, pausing

briefly to acknowledge the greetings of the mayor and several thousand citizens

of Honolulu. At Hickam the trailer was loaded into a C-141 cargo aircraft, which

departed immediately for Houston. 61 Just after midnight the big plane touched

down at Ellington Air Force Base, where a large crowd awaited a glimpse of the

astronauts. Three hours later the crew and their companions entered their living

quarters at the lunar receiving laboratory, which would be their home for at least

the next three weeks. 61 On hand to greet them were the support personnel who

had entered the living quarters the week before: a clinical pathologist, five laboratory technicians, three stewards, photography specialist, Brown & RootNorthrop's logistic operations officer, and a representative of MSC's public affairs

office.63

After a day off to recuperate from the stresses of the preceding two weeks—

since July 16 they had been cooped up in very close quarters—the crew began

a week of intensive technical and medical debriefings. Periodic examinations and

blood tests monitored the physiological effects of their flight and recovery, while

the doctors kept a close watch for any signs of exotic infection. The living quarters

were equipped for routine clinical tests, or even minor surgery; but if a lifethreatening medical emergency arose, whether from recognizable or unfamiliar

causes, the victim would be transferred out to a hospital regardless of any concern for back-contamination.64

Although all three astronauts were veterans of prior missions, none had ever

spent so much time in space, and post-mission activities had never been conducted under strict confinement. Thus quarantine quickly became oppressive,

the more so because only meager provision had been made for recreation. An exercise room was available, as well as a Ping-Pong table, and they could read or watch

television or talk by telephone to their families, but it was not like being at home.

At the conclusion of the technical debriefing sessions, less than a week after they

returned, they were called upon to comment on operations in the receiving labora-

*A physician, Dr. William R. Carpentier, and a technician, John Hirasaki, joined the crew in the

quarantine trailer aboard the recovery ship and remained in quarantine with them.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

tory. Armstrong was noncommittal, saying that so far it had been going "about

as well as you can expect." Collins's less tolerant response was, "I want out.' 65

Since no press conference with the astronauts was scheduled before quarantine was lifted, reporters' only source of information was a daily briefing by John

McLeaish, the public affairs officer confined in the crew quarters. Once or twice

a day McLeaish briefed the press pool through a glass wall in the conference room

where the crew debriefings took place. Most of the time he had little to report:

everyone inside was healthy, the astronauts were busy with debriefings or writing their pilot's reports, and otherwise nothing much was going on .66 And so

it remained for the duration of the three-week quarantine.

Public Interest in Lunar Samples

While the laboratory teams worked two shifts a day to prepare the samples

for outside researchers, project managers were considering how to deal with a

growing public curiosity about the first rocks returned from the moon. Even before

Apollo 11 left the launch pad, requests for lunar specimens for display had begun

to arrive at the Manned Spacecraft Center. When MSC scientists expressed concern at what these requests might lead to, Apollo project manager George Low

asked Headquarters for help in developing a policy to deal with them. Low's principal concern was that NASA "would arouse the animosity of the scientists in

this program by wholesale or capricious distribution of valuable lunar material

for nonscientific purposes." Low considered it appropriate to prepare a few lunar

specimens for touring exhibits at major museums in the United States and abroad,

provided they were eventually returned to the lunar receiving laboratory for scientific use. He also expected to be asked for samples to be presented to various

VIPs; this MSC was willing to do, provided the number and size of such samples

could be kept quite small. MSC scientists were alarmed, however, by a White

House proposal to present lunar samples to the heads of state of 120 countries.67

Apollo program director Sam Phillips replied that his office was accountable

for the spacecraft and all hardware items that had gone to the moon; presumably

that responsibility extended to the lunar samples as well (although it appears that

this point had not been explicitly settled), and Phillips asked Houston for suggestions as to procedures. Concerning the lending of samples to museums and

presentation of souvenirs to VIPs, however, he noted that "The Administrator

will make the final determination of the overall allocation of lunar material for

scientific and other purposes. " 68 A mid-August general management review at

Headquarters reaffirmed this position, stating that the Public Affairs Office had

primary responsibility for arranging exhibition, presentation, or other uses of the

samples, and it was directed to develop plans for presentation, "if possible, of

small amounts of lunar material to Chiefs of State as desired by the President."

The Offices of Manned Space Flight and Space Science and Applications were

asked to indicate how much material, if any, and what kind (i.e., rocks or dust)

could be made available for such purposes.69

When Headquarters called for that information, MSC's response reflected the

view of lunar scientists. They were not inclined to be liberal in giving away lunar

rocks, which they rightly regarded as a priceless scientific resource. Director Robert

R. Gilruth replied that he could make available 150 to 200 presentation samples,

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Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969

each consisting of 100 milligrams (less than the volume of an aspirin tablet) of

fines from the bulk or contingency samples. Concerning VIP souvenirs, Gilruth

said that "we could make available if required about 10 samples of 1 gm

each ... to be given away if needed [emphasis in the original]," but the Center

would prefer not to part with samples that big. For museums, ten 50-gram

(1.75-ounce) rock specimens might be made available on loan, provided they could

be recalled on one month's notice by Houston's curator of lunar samples.70

Not surprisingly, public interest in the lunar samples was tremendous, and in

September the first of several displays of moon rocks was opened in the Smithsonian Institution in Washington. Thousands queued up to get a glimpse of a

moon rock; many found it disappointingly ordinary. 71 Presentation samples—

tiny portions of lunar dust, packaged in plastic vials and attractively mounted

in plaques—were prepared for the world's heads of state and presented by

astronauts or government officials on world tours. So far as can be determined,

no lunar rocks were cut and polished as paperweights for the desks of VIPs.

Astronauts Given Clean Bill of Health

Premission plans called for the astronauts to be kept in isolation for 21 days

after their exposure to lunar material. If one of them had developed signs of infection by an exotic organism, or if some adverse effects had appeared in the living

systems being tested, their confinement could have been extended. Samples were

to be kept until results were in from all the biological protocols, which would

be completed within 50 to 80 days after the samples entered the receiving laboratory, depending on test results.72

From the medical standpoint the quarantine of the astronauts was absolutely

uneventful. Not the slightest sign of ill effects appeared in any of the astronauts,

the support personnel, or the technicians who were quarantined after two breaches

of containment in the vacuum laboratory.* So, after reviewing the results of initial biological testing and finding no evidence of infectious agents, the Interagency

Committee on Back Contamination agreed to release the astronauts and their companions in confinement at 1 a.m. on August 11, one day earlier than originally

planned. The committee recommended, however, that they be kept under medical

surveillance until biological testing was complete and the samples were released .71

The early morning hour for release was quite likely chosen in the hope of avoiding a wild scramble with the news media at the door of the crew quarters. But

after a month of close confinement Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins were not

inclined to stay an hour longer than necessary; so at 9 p.m. on August 10, after

the last medical examinations had been completed, they walked out of the living

quarters, made some brief remarks to the few reporters present, and were whisked

away to their homes .71 After a press conference on the morning of the 12th, the

astronauts were scheduled to leave on a worldwide personal appearance tour.

"The first, a rupture of a glove in the vacuum system on Aug. 1 (see above), sent two technicians

into quarantine; on Aug. 5 a leak in an autoclave exposed four more to lunar materials. The most

direct exposure to lunar soil occurred on July 25 when a photo technician picked up a film magazine

that Buzz Aldrin had dropped on the lunar surface and found his hand covered with the tenacious

black dust. He was already in quarantine but had to decontaminate himself by showering for five

minutes, K. L. Suit, "Apollo 11 LRL Daily Summary Report, 1200 July 25 to 1200 July 26."

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Releasing the Samples

Activity in the receiving laboratory remained at a high level during August,

aimed at releasing the samples in mid-September. Two batches of material were

prepared for biological examination. A "bioprime" sample, taken from the two

core tubes, went to the biological section on July 27, to be examined for evidence

of living organisms or their relics. A "biopool" sample, comprising several hundred grams of the "fines" plus chips taken from the lunar rocks in the bulk sample

container, provided the material that would be tested in numerous living systems to determine its toxicity or pathogenicity. 75 The pooled sample was prepared

the following week, and the extensive biological test protocols got under way.76

Throughout August the daily LRL summary reports indicated no observable

effects in the biological tests. Lunar material was injected into germ-free mice,

cultured to detect growth of microorganisms and viruses, and otherwise

introduced into both plant and animal species. In no case was any effect noted

that indicated a hazard for earth organisms. Gross and microscopic investigation

of exposed systems showed only minor and localized abnormalities, if any. No

exotic microorganisms appeared in the cultures. One interesting observation was

that the lunar samples stimulated growth in some of the plants tested .77

The Interagency Committee on Back Contamination reviewed the evidence from

the biological tests and concluded that the material returned by Apollo 11 was

biologically harmless. The committee notified MSC Director Robert Gilruth that

he could release the samples at noon on September 12. 78 Principal investigators

began picking up their allotted samples in person at the lunar receiving laboratory, as required by their contracts, and the detailed investigation of lunar material

began. 79 Many investigators, however, needed specimens (such as thin sections

of rock) that required time to prepare, and sample distribution was only completed several weeks after initial release .80

Scientific Side Issues: Security and Publication

With the return of the unique, expensive, and widely ballyhooed moon rocks,

NASA and its scientific advisory bodies anticipated some potential problems that

could embarrass both the space agency and the community of lunar scientists.

One was the theft or unauthorized use of the samples; another was an unseemly

scramble to publish results. To minimize the chances of such undesirable events,

the contracts covering the scientific investigation of lunar material stipulated that

the contracting institution would establish strict security and accounting procedures for the samples, and that the investigator would reserve initial presentation of all results for a symposium to be held as soon as possible after each

mission. 81 Both provisions violated established scientific practice to some extent,

particularly the agreement to withhold publication; but in view of the unique significance of the lunar samples and the benefits to be gained by discussion at a

lunar science symposium, scientists agreed to them.

Not surprisingly, since the samples were released before any of the samples

were publicly displayed, requests for permission to display the research samples

came in as soon as they were received. 82 These were considered case by case at

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Primary Mission Accomplished: 1969

Headquarters and usually were approved. 83 This undoubtedly contributed to the

public-relations dividends NASA was accumulating from the first lunar landing.

To disseminate the results of the initial lunar investigations to the widest possible audience, NASA took the unusual step of entering into a contract with a

single journa1 84 : Science, published weekly by the American Association for the

Advancement of Science and circulated in 120 countries. Science undertook to

devote a single issue to the preliminary results of the Apollo 11 research and to

conduct all the normal work of reviewing and editing the manuscripts on an

unusually tight schedule; NASA would cover any excess costs entailed by this

accelerated process.85

A week after the samples were released, the lunar sample preliminary examination team published the results of its work—the only results of the first lunar

landing to appear in the scientific literature before the symposium scheduled for

early January 1970. Inasmuch as preliminary examination was not intended to

produce answers to the important scientific questions about the moon, the paper

was mostly confined to descriptions of the lunar material and the procedures followed in the lunar receiving laboratory .81

Nonetheless, this early work had produced data that permitted drawing some

tentative conclusions. Two generic groups of samples could be distinguished: fineand medium-grained crystalline rocks of igneous origin, which were probably

originally deposited as lava flows, and breccias (heterogeneous crystalline rocks

compacted from smaller particles without extensive alteration) of complex history. There was no water at the Tranquility site and probably never had been

any since the samples were exposed. Neither was there any significant amount

of organic material (considerably less than one part per million), which might

have indicated something about life on the moon. The rocks and dust were chemically similar to each other and contained the same chemical elements as igneous

rocks on earth. But in their mineral content the igneous rocks were different from

terrestrial rocks and meteorites. Evidence was found that the lunar material had

been chemically fractionated, some volatile elements being depleted and some

refractory (high-melting) elements enriched. One of the more striking conclusions

of the preliminary examination was that the igneous rocks on the moon had crystallized between three and four billion years ago—as old as any found on earth,

perhaps even older, given the uncertainty in the measurements. Furthermore,

the samples collected at Tranquility Base had been within 1 meter (39 inches) of

the surface for 20 to 160 million years. Many of the rocks and fines showed signs

of having been subjected to severe shock, such as might result from the impact

of meteorites. The rounded, eroded surfaces found on many of the rocks suggested continuous bombardment by micrometeorites. Glass-lined surface pits suggested the same thing.81

Interest in the moon rocks tended to overshadow the results of the surface

experiments that the astronauts had left behind. The passive seismometer had

recorded the footsteps of the lunar explorers as soon as it was activated, and

ground-based scientists noted a response when Armstrong and Aldrin tossed out

excess equipment before departing. Two fairly large seismic events in the first

week of operation excited geophysicists at first, but when they were not repeated

the scientists concluded that they could have been false signals originating in the

instrument itself. Even so, the very lack of seismic activity was indicative that

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

the moon's interior was not like the earth's. 88 The other instrument, the laser

retroreflector, was difficult to locate from earth because it was in strong sunlight,

which made detection of the reflected light pulse difficult. Only after lunar sunset would astronomers be able to use the instrument in the manner for which

it had been designed.89

Sketchy as these results were, they clearly showed that Apollo would revolutionize scientific thought about the moon and its relation to the earth. The detailed

studies would show how extensive this revolution might be (see Chapter 14).90

The End of the Beginning

While editorial writers and columnists pondered the significance of Apollo 11

and where the space program should go, NASA managers and engineers were

preparing for the next lunar flight. In the same manned space flight weekly report

that documented the lunar landing, George Mueller noted that Apollo 12 was

scheduled for launch on November 14 and Apollo 13 would follow on March 9,

1970. For Administrator Thomas O. Paine's information, Mueller listed the landing sites tentatively assigned to the nine remaining missions. They included one

western mare, several sites in the lunar highlands, and two large craters, Tycho

and Copernicus—all selected for their scientific interest, some presenting real operational challenges. Missions were scheduled at four- to five-month intervals

through December 1972.91

After Apollo 11 such a schedule seemed reasonable. The necessary launch vehicles and spacecraft were either completed or on order. Having finally worked

through all phases of a lunar landing mission, operations officers were satisfied

that it could be done safely. Mission planners could see many ways to improve

operations. Both lunar scientists and NASA engineers would have been happier

with longer intervals between launches, but Mueller felt that a tight schedule

would keep the skills of the launch teams well honed—and that it would keep

costs down.

Cost was important, for NASA's appropriations had been steadily declining

since fiscal 1965, when they peaked at just over $5 billion. For fiscal 1969, Congress had given the space agency just less than $4 billion. To some degree the

reductions resulted from declining expenditures in Apollo; but they also reflected

a change in the nation's attitudes during the decade. Heightened public sensitivity to the condition of the cities, the plight of the poor, and the deterioration of

the environment put the space program in a different light. When Apollo was

proposed, it seemed a way to get the country moving again; in the summer of

its achievement, the space program seemed to many an unwelcome drain on

resources needed for other purposes.

But it was post-Apollo programs that were most affected by the changing climate of public opinion. The lunar landing project, although it had accomplished

its major objective, still offered enough promise for adding to the store of knowledge to retain a constituency and preserve its momentum. After Apollo 11,

engineers and scientists alike looked ahead to improving their ability to uncover

more of the secrets that lay under the barely scratched surface.

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10

LUNAR EXPLORATION BEGINS

For a while during the summer of 1969, NASA basked in the afterglow of two

major successes. Within a few days of the return of the first men from the moon,

two unmanned spacecraft, Mariner 6 and 7, flew by Mars and transmitted

hundreds of closeup photographs—the first since Mariner 4 in 1965 and the most

detailed ever.' Some continuity in manned space flight was assured when several

years of difficult planning culminated in the decision—made while Apollo 11 was

on its way back to earth—on a configuration and mission plans for the first postApollo project, Skylab.'

Successes notwithstanding, the future of manned space flight was far from settled. The Nixon administration, just eight months in office, had not adopted a

policy on space and was waiting for recommendations from a special Space Task

Group appointed in January 1969. Early indications were that the new administration was more strongly committed to reductions in government spending than

to ambitious space programs .3

The national enthusiasm generated by Apollo 11 was soon spent. In the words

of a journalist who had followed the program from its early days,

The people who in 1961 said, 'yessir, let's go to the moon and beat the Russians' had become a different people by 1969. . . . There was the feeling: 'we

won the war, now bring the boys home.' . no one wanted a big space program any more. *"

"No one" is an exaggeration—there were many who believed in continuing

manned space flight at an ambitious pace, particularly NASA Administrator

Thomas O. Paine—but certainly the public's enthusiasm for space flight waned

rapidly after Apollo 11. Apollo would not suffer the full effects of this change

in public opinion, but neither would it escape them entirely.

Until the first lunar landing was accomplished, George Mueller intended to

launch missions as frequently as possible. At the end of June 1969 three Saturn/

Apollo vehicles were in preparation at Kennedy Space Center: Apollo 11 on the

launch pad, Apollo 12 in the Vehicle Assembly Building, and Apollo 13 components being readied for stacking. Headquarters' launch forecast issued in June

projected flights only two months apart, in July, September, and November—

essentially the same schedule that had existed for more than a year. 5 After the

—Bring the boys home" was a cry raised throughout the country as soon as World War II ended

in August 1945. As a result, the U.S. hastily—some thought unwisely—discharged millions of draftees

from the armed services and dismantled its military forces around the world.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

first successful landing the interval between missions was extended to four

months: Apollo 12 was rescheduled for November 14 and Apollo 13 was targeted

for earliest launch readiness by March 9, 1970.6

On With Lunar Exploration

Pleased by the results of Apollo 11, scientists called for scientific goals to take

priority on subsequent missions. Those goals, stated by the Santa Cruz summer

study in 1967, included extending the Apollo landing zone to cover more of the

moon's surface, increasing the time the astronauts could remain on the lunar surface, and providing mobility aids to enable the astronauts to cover more ground

in the time available (see Chapter 7 and Appendix 3). The scientists also noted

the desirability of gathering data from lunar orbit, either by deploying an independent lunar satellite from the command and service module or by using sensors

mounted in the CSM. Four working groups had found good reasons to use the

moon-orbiting CSM for scientific purposes."'

As soon as Apollo 11 was safely down in the Pacific, Mueller directed the

manned space flight centers to shift their efforts to lunar exploration. The manned

space flight organization had long agreed in a general way that the scientists'

goals were the primary justification for continuing the lunar landing program and

had, in fact, begun studying the changes implied in those goals as soon as the

Santa Cruz conference was over. Improved mobility was the most urgent need

for the scientific missions. The conferees at Santa Cruz had called for both a lunar

flying unit and a surface-traversing vehicle. Since both vehicles were likely to

require extensive development, the Manned Spacecraft Center's Lunar Exploration Project Office had begun technical discussions with several contractors in

the fall of 1967. 8 After a year spent in defining requirements, MSC awarded two

seven-month preliminary definition contracts for a flying unit in January 1969.

Marshall Space Flight Center let study contracts in April for a dual-mode surface

vehicle, which could be remotely controlled from earth after the astronauts left

the moon.9

Equally high on the priority list for exploration missions was extending the time

astronauts could stay on the moon. Grumman Aircraft Engineering Company,

the lunar module contractor, had made some preliminary studies on modification of the lander for that purpose in 1967. 10 Life-support systems and electrical

power were enough for only 36 hours on the surface; longer stays would require

hardware changes. Propulsion systems would have to be upgraded to carry the

scientific equipment and mobility module to be taken on exploration missions.

In March 1969, MSC directed Grumman to define the changes necessary to allow

*This option had been available since 1964, when engineers defining the Block II service module

had arranged its systems so that one sector was left empty to accommodate scientific instruments.

Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History

of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), p. 140. The Santa Cruz planners had

envisioned one or two lunar-orbit missions devoted entirely to photography and remote sensing,

as then-current plans for Apollo Applications provided.

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Lunar Exploration Begins

the lunar module to stay three to six days on the moon, with their cost and schedule impacts."

Planning for lunar-orbital science began in May of 1968, when Wilmot Hess, acting on a request from the Lunar Exploration Office in Headquarters, asked the

Apollo spacecraft program office to look into the question of placing a scientific

payload in the service module. 12 MSC commissioned North American Rockwell,

the spacecraft contractor, to study the effects on cost and schedule of adding scientific instrumentation to the spacecraft as early as Apollo 14. 13 As that study drew

toward a close without discovering any major difficulties, MSC established a panel

to review the operational implications of making scientific observations in lunar

orbit and to identify the scientific activities that could be conducted during a lunar

exploration mission.14

By early 1969 MSC had concluded that a package could be developed in time

to fly on Apollo 14 in the last half of 1970 and had compiled a tentative list of

instruments for evaluation by the Space Science and Applications Steering Committee. Director Robert Gilruth sent Headquarters the center's procurement plan,

which provided for MSC to procure the instruments and deliver them as

government-furnished equipment to North American to be integrated into the

service module. Early approval and provision of the necessary funds by Headquarters were essential to meeting the projected schedule."

In early April the Office of Space Science and Applications approved a group

of experiments for the first phase of the lunar-orbit science project. 16 Apollo Program Manager Sam Phillips wanted more specific information before granting

final approval and releasing funds, however. 17 The proposal was discussed in

detail by Mueller's Management Council on May 7, after which Mueller gave MSC

the authority to proceed—but on Apollo 16 rather than Apollo 14. Details of

integrating the experiments into the service module remained to be settled, as

did the exact mode of operation of each experiment, and this would take time.1B

On June 30 Headquarters sent Houston a list of lunar-orbital experiments for

Apollo 16 through 20, with authority to continue North American's integration

effort and begin procurement of experiments. Assignment of experiments to

specific flights could not yet be made, because the list was subject to revision

during the summer. Total cost of the project was not to exceed $55 million.19

The manned space flight organization worked steadily from 1967 onward to

lay the foundations for scientific exploitation of the Apollo systems, but the effort

was often overshadowed by preparations for the first lunar landing. With NASA's

encouragement, the Santa Cruz conference that summer had called for a maximum effort. The scientists' recommendations had been carefully considered, and

by mid-1969 many of the most important ones were on their way to realization.

It seems clear that if manned space flight had enjoyed the assurance of a high

level of support, the lunar scientists would have gotten more. As it was, lunar

exploration had to proceed with little more than had been projected by mid-1969:

limited extension of the duration of exploration missions, a limited increase in

the range of operations on the lunar surface, and a few lunar-orbital sensors.

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Selecting Sites for Exploration

Since its primary objective was to land on the moon and return, Apollo 11 had

been targeted for the least hazardous site. When the emphasis shifted to exploration, however, scientific considerations carried much greater weight in the choice

of a landing site. 20 Even so, every landing was as risky as the first, and if MSC

vetoed a site or expressed strong reservations about its feasibility on operational

grounds, Headquarters and the Apollo Site Selection Board were reluctant to override the center's recommendations for the sake of enhanced scientific return.21

During 1968 and early 1969 the Apollo Site Selection Board necessarily concentrated on choosing landing areas for the first two missions. Five prime candidates

had been chosen by December 1967, from which three—an eastern, a central, and

a western, to allow for possible delays in the launch—were picked for the first

landing (see Chapter 8). It was more or less taken for granted that if the first landing mission should succeed, then the second would be sent to another of those

five sites, since much of the necessary planning would already have been done.

If the first mission landed in an eastern mare, the second would be sent to a western one, and vice versa.

The Board's advisory groups continued to evaluate Lunar Orbiter photographs

and by June of 1969 had produced a list of 22 sites for lunar exploration missions

(Table 1). These were chosen for their apparent value in contributing to answers

to one or more of the 15 questions in lunar exploration (Appendix 3). For most

of these sites, changes in operational philosophy would be required. Only one

site, not three, would be available at each launch opportunity; point landings

(within 1 kilometer, 0.62 miles) would be necessary, to place the landing module

as near the features of interest as possible; approach paths might be rough or undulating rather than smooth; free-return trajectories could not be used; and the

high-resolution photography required to certify a site was generally not available. 22

With more than twice as many interesting locations to visit as there were missions planned, site selection would be a complex process at best. Scientists' priorities might change as the results of early missions became known and as NASA

developed more precise landing techniques and extended the area where the

spacecraft could land. Reconciling the goals of science with the constraints of mission operations required an early start and continuing tradeoffs as the project progressed.

At the June 3 meeting of the Apollo Site Selection Board, chairman Sam Phillips, anticipating heavy work loads if the board was to accomplish its task within

tight schedules, requested that the board meet monthly if possible. He directed

Lee Scherer to prepare a thorough briefing on the scientific objectives of lunar

exploration and suggested that the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning propose a sequence of missions that would accomplish those objectives. Board members agreed a that to make sensible choices between sites they needed a better

understanding of the rationale of lunar exploration and the operational improvements being planned.23

The meeting then turned to the question of a site for the second mission. Scientists reiterated their preference for a western (younger) mare if the first mission

landed safely at an eastern (older) site. Two western sites were on the short list

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Lunar Exploration Begins

Table 1. Lunar Landing Sites Recommended for Consideration as of June 1969.*

Site Latitude Longitude

Censorinus 0017' S 32°39' E

Rima Littrow 21025'N 28 0 56' E

Abulfeda 14050' S 14°00' E

Rima Hyginus 7052'N 60 7' E

Tycho 41° 8' S 11°35' W

Copernicus Peak 9036' N 19053'W

Copernicus Wall 10022' N 19°59' W

Schroter's Valley 24036' N 490 3' W

Marius F 15 0 10' N 56031'W

Fra Mauro 3°45' S 17036'W

Mosting C 1°55' S 80 3'W

Hipparchus 4036' S 3°40' E

Prinz 25057' N 43040'W

Gassendi 17050' S 40°20' W

Dionysius 2031'N 17049' E

Alexander 37046' N 14° 6' E

Alphonsus 13035' S 4011'W

Rima Bode II 12°47' N 3049'W

Copernicus CD 6°32' N 14058'W

Tobias Mayer P 13018' N 31011'W

Aristarchus 24°24' N 47050'W

*From minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board meeting, June 3, 1969

of preferred sites compiled in 1968: one just below the equator some 450 kilometers (280 miles) south and slightly east of crater Kepler and the other about

250 kilometers (155 miles) northwest of the first. Benjamin Milwitzky of the Lunar

Exploration Office then suggested that Apollo 12 land near a Surveyor spacecraft.

As early as January 1969 Milwitzky, formerly the Headquarters program manager for Surveyor, had suggested visiting a landed Surveyor and returning some

spacecraft parts and nearby surface samples to earth for study. This could yield

valuable engineering information on the effects of the space environment

on materials, besides allowing postmission verification of Surveyor's scientific results.24

MSC representatives then presented a rationale for considering two other western sites. Although these had been eliminated in selecting the final five sites, they

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met MSC's criteria for operational suitability and offered certain advantages over

the first two. Both sites were near Surveyor spacecraft .25 The Board reacted

unfavorably to these suggestions, pointing out that the site where Surveyor III

was located was in a younger mare that was not much different from those in

the eastern sites, whereas the scientists' first two choices were in typical older

regions. Examining the Surveyor would detract from the other objectives of the

mission. Furthermore, if returning Surveyor parts were set as a goal for the mission, failure to accomplish the necessary precision in landing could be interpreted

as failure—which would not, in fact, be the case. Chairman Sam Phillips was reluctant to add any more sites to the list for the second mission. He did not favor

either of MSC's choices and instead directed Houston to examine two sites considered highly desirable by the scientists, Hipparchus and Fra Mauro, and report

on their suitability.26

MSC analyzed the data available for these two sites and found them unacceptable for the second landing mission. Hipparchus had only about half as much

good landing area as the average Apollo 11 site and Fra Mauro was worse. Photographic coverage in both cases was marginal. Houston recommended that the

site selection board give no further consideration to these two locations, but that

it reexamine the Surveyor III site, which met all the criteria for the first landing

and was in some respects better than the two western sites under consideration. 27

Phillips concurred and directed the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning to assess

the scientific merit of the site.28

On June 17 the Site Selection Subgroup of the Group for Lunar Exploration

Planning met at Houston to try to reduce the complexity of lunar exploration planning. MSC's operations planners needed definite recommendations as to scientific objectives and priorities rather than the unstructured group of sites currently

being considered. A short list of high-priority sites was desired, which would

not subsequently be changed except through formal change procedures. MSC

engineers briefed the subgroup on the increased capabilities that might be expected

for the exploration missions. After Apollo 11, four "H" missions were planned,

each of which would be able to carry a complete Apollo lunar surface experiments

package (ALSEP), could support two periods of surface activity by the astronauts,

and would be targeted for a smaller landing zone than the first mission.* On the

later "H" missions engineers expected to be able to land within a 1-kilometer

(0.62-mile) circle. After the "H" missions, six "J" missions would be flown. These

could land with considerably improved accuracy, stay on the surface for three

days and allow four excursions to the surface, and carry scientific equipment in

the service module for lunar-orbital experiments. Starting with the second or third

"J" mission, a powered surface vehicle would extend the astronauts' radius of

operations to about 5 kilometers (3 miles) .21

With these developments in mind, the subgroup reduced the list of candidate

sites to 10, ordering them in a sequence that would produce the best scientific

*The landing zone for Apollo 11 was about 19 kilometers long and 5 kilometers wide (12 by 3 miles)

as a result of uncertainties in the determination of the spacecraft's position and velocity in lunar orbit

before landing.

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Lunar Exploration Begins

return, and added five more representing lunar features of scientific interest not

covered by the existing list. It recommended systematic photography from the

orbiting command and service module to provide the necessary planning data

for later missions. Finally, the subgroup recommended that Surveyor III be deleted

from further consideration for the second landing because its location was not

expected to yield data significantly different from the two eastern sites already

picked for Apollo 11.30

The Site Selection Board met again on July 10 for a briefing on the aims of lunar

exploration. Donald Wise of the Lunar Exploration Office discussed the types

of information the scientists hoped to get from the lunar exploration program:

the ages of lunar materials, their chemical composition, clues to the processes

that have created lunar landforms, the interior structure of the moon, and the

rate of flow of heat from its interior. Farouk El-Baz of Bellcomm described the

general areas that should be sampled in the first phase (10 missions) of lunar exploration: two types of mare material ("older" or "eastern" and "younger" or "western"); regional stratigraphic units such as deposits around mare basins; impact

craters in both maria and highlands; morphological manifestations of volcanic

activity in both maria and highlands; and areas that might give clues as to the

nature and extent of processes other than impact and volcanism which may have

acted on the lunar surface. He then enumerated the characteristics of each of the

10 landing sites proposed by the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning, relating

each to the scientific goals of the program and tying the sequence to expected

improvements in spacecraft capabilities and flight operations planning.

Chairman Phillips remarked that the list seemed well thought out and that a

short list of desirable science sites must soon be stabilized. After considerable

discussion, the Board approved the 10 candidate sites for planning purposes. Phillips directed MSC to study these sites and report on their suitability.

Houston had already taken a quick look at the sites and determined that all

would require additional photographs before they could be certified under existing criteria. Photography from the Apollo 10 command module—conducted specifically to evaluate its usefulness for filling gaps in Lunar Orbiter coverage—had

proved adequate for site analysis, and MSC's data indicated that by proper choice

of sites for early missions, photographs of many of the later ones could be

obtained. According to MSC's studies, the Surveyor 111 site offered better opportunities for this "bootstrap" photography than the other western locations on

the list.31

Two months' work by the Apollo Site Selection Board did not finally determine where each Apollo exploration mission would go. It reduced the scope of

the debate somewhat, established the principle that changes were to be made

only for good scientific reasons, and provided the means for accommodating

changes as the program developed. The list of 10 sites approved in July provided

specific targets for mission planners; it would change as operational problems

arose and as improved equipment and techniques became available.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Preparations for the Second Mission:

Crew Selection and Training

On April 10, 1969, following the success of Apollo 9, MSC announced the names

of the crews for Apollo 12. The prime crew was commanded by Charles ("Pete")

Conrad, Jr., astronaut since 1962 and veteran of two missions, Gemini V and

Gemini XI. His lunar module pilot was Alan L. Bean, who joined the program

with the third group but had yet to fly a mission. Rounding out the crew as command module pilot was Richard F. Gordon, Jr., a member of the third class of

astronauts, who had flown with Conrad on Gemini XI. The three, all Navy aviators, had trained together as backup crew on Apollo 9. Named to the backup

crew were commander David R. Scott, who had flown with Neil Armstrong on

the prematurely terminated Gemini VIII mission, and two astronauts from the

fourth group of pilots, lunar module pilot James B. Irwin and command module

pilot Alfred M. Worden. 32 Irwin's and Worden's only prior experience had been

on support crews, Irwin on Apollo 10 and Worden on Apollo 9. As support crew

for Apollo 12, Deke Slayton picked Gerald P. Carr and Paul J. Weitz, two pilots

from the fourth astronaut class, and Edward G. Gibson, the first scientist-astronaut

named to any Apollo crew position .31 For Gibson and his colleagues this was

recognition of a sort. No one yet knew how support crews would fare in later

competition for prime crew slots*—so far, only one had gotten as far as a backup

crew—but his appointment was a sign that they had at least not been completely

forgotten.

In April 1969 no one could be certain that Apollo 11 would make the first lunar

landing, so training for Conrad, Bean, and Gordon was very much like that for

Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins. Nominally both crews were preparing to land

at any of three sites; actually, their site-specific training concentrated on only one,

simply because there was not time to prepare adequately for three. 34 Apollo 11's

primary target was site 2, in the Sea of Tranquility; 12 focused on site 5, in Oceanus Procellarum.

As was normal when two crews were in training simultaneously, the crew

assigned to the earlier mission had priority in use of the command module and

lunar module simulators until just before launch. Conrad and his group spent

their training time on other phases: briefings on systems, thermal-vacuum tests,

design reviews, geology classes and field trips, and the thousand and one other

details that went into preparation for a lunar mission. 35 When Apollo 11 returned

successful in late July, the launch date for Apollo 12 was moved to November

and two months were gained for preparation.

Target: Surveyor III

Some of that preparation time would be needed, for after Apollo 11 the

objectives for Apollo 12 began to change. Shortly after the site selection board

*As it turned out, 8 of the first 13 astronauts named to support crews eventually made lunar flights.

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Lunar Exploration Begins

had settled on its list of 10 landing sites for lunar exploration, Sam Phillips selected

the Surveyor 111 site as the target for the next mission. 36 Even though the scientists had unanimously rejected its location as unsuitable, the inert Surveyor offered

some opportunities that could not be passed up. A demonstration of point landing (i.e., within 1 kilometer [0.62 mile] of a preselected spot) needed to be made

as soon as feasible. For that purpose, something like a Surveyor was more appealing to mission planners than picking some specific crater. Scientists might have

good reasons for landing next to one crater rather than another, but to nonscientists (including the public) all craters were pretty much alike. 37 Besides, valuable

engineering and scientific information could come out of examination of a spacecraft that had spent more than two years in the space environment,* as Milwitzky

had pointed out to the site selection board (see above). Houston had already determined that certain components could be removed from a Surveyor with no special difficulty and was working with Hughes Aircraft Company, builder of the

Surveyors, on procedures the astronauts could use.38

As soon as that decision was made, changes in mission techniques became a

major effort for Apollo 12 planners. Howard W. Tindall, Jr., MSC's chief of Apollo

data priority coordination, wrote as the planning began, "It is clear that lunar

point landing capability is absolutely necessary if we are to support the exploration program the scientists want [emphasis added]. That is, mission success intrinsically

depends upon it. "39 A preliminary look at the problems of accomplishing it, however, showed that it could not be done as early as Apollo 12. Too many procedural changes were involved, and there was not enough time to incorporate them

and prove their suitability. Accordingly, mission planning teams at MSC set out

to refine existing techniques, in the hope that they could reduce the unavoidable

errors to the point of landing within a mile (1,600 meters) of a preselected spot.40

Trajectory planners first needed to know the precise location of Surveyor III,

which, they discovered, had been determined not long after the spacecraft had

touched down.** Geologists had located the spacecraft inside and just below the

eastern rim of a subdued crater about 200 meters (650 feet) across and 15 meters

(50 feet) deep, some 480 miles (775 kilometers) west-southwest of the moon's center, at lunar latitude 2°57' south, longitude 23°20' west.4'

Given the precise location of their target, trajectory planners next went to work

improving mission techniques. The fundamental difficulty in making a precision

landing was determining the lunar module's orbital position and velocity in lunar

orbit (its "state vector") with sufficient accuracy. Earth-based radar acquired this

information and the communications network transmitted it to the lunar module's primary guidance computer just before the landing craft began its powered

descent. No further change was made until the spacecraft reached low altitude

and the landing point was in sight. Then the mission commander could assume

manual control and adjust the landing point to avoid hazards, as Neil Armstrong

had done on Apollo 11, or land at a desired spot.

*Surveyor III landed on April 20, 1967, and transmitted 6,326 television pictures and large amounts

of scientific data for 14 days.

**Prominent features appearing in Surveyor III's television photographs had also been located in highresolution pictures of the same area taken by Lunar Orbiter III.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

After the state vector was determined and before descent began, the spacecraft's

actual path could deviate from its predicted path for several reasons. Perturbations caused by the irregular shape and gravity field of the moon, unwanted

changes in velocity during required spacecraft maneuvers, and the guidance system's tendency to drift slightly from its inertial alignment, all contributed to inaccuracy in the state vector. *42

A month of considering the sources of these errors and ways of minimizing

them boosted MSC's confidence considerably. Still, after a "three-day mission

techniques free-for-all" at the end of July, Tindall concluded that "if we land

within walking distance, it is my feeling we have to give most of the credit to

'lady luck." 143 Four weeks later, numerous productive suggestions had been

explored. Among the more significant changes were separating the lunar module from the command module earlier in the mission and eliminating several attitude changes normally made in the following two orbits. These changes gave

more accurate tracking of the LM, could significantly reduce unwanted velocity

changes, and might enable Mission Control's computers to measure drift in the

inertial navigation system and compensate for it. Another proposed refinement

was to give the spacecraft computer a revised landing point, based on radar tracking just before the lunar module started down, while the lander was making

its descent, thus taking out all the error accumulated to that point in one step.44

All these changes got careful study in the next two months, with encouraging

results. Two weeks before launch Tindall was more sanguine. "For whatever it's

worth," he reported, "my feeling now is that as long as the systems work as

well as they have in the past, we have a pretty good chance of landing near the

Surveyor." Beyond that he would not make any predictions about the accuracy

of the landing .45

Firming Up Plans for Apollo 12

On July 18, 1969, MSC issued the mission requirements document for Apollo

12, listing the primary purposes of the mission as investigating the lunar surface

environment, emplacing the first Apollo lunar surface experiments package

(ALSEP) , obtaining samples from a second lunar mare, and enhancing the capability for manned lunar exploration. Major changes from Apollo 11 included the

possible use of a hybrid trajectory** rather than a free-return trajectory and

*These random (indeterminate) errors led engineers to use statistical methods in predicting landing

points. The most commonly used designation was the "3-sigma ellipse," centered on the desired

landing point, within which there was 99 percent confidence that the spacecraft would land. For Apollo

11 the 3-sigma ellipse was roughly 11.7 miles long by 3 miles wide (18.8 by 4.8 kilometers); for Apollo

12, planners were aiming for 2.6 by 1.6 miles (4.2 by 2.6 kilometers).

**Hybrid trajectories were fuel-saving flight paths which, unlike free-return trajectories, would not

return the spacecraft to earth if the service module's main propulsion system failed to put it into lunar

orbit. They were designed so that in case of such a failure the lunar module's descent engine could

correct the resulting flight path (which might put the spacecraft with its three occupants into solar

orbit) for return to earth.

166
Lunar Exploration Begins

scheduling two periods of lunar surface exploration by both crewmen. Five

possible landing sites were specified, including site 5 (the western mare site

preferred by the scientists) and Surveyor 111.46

After Sam Phillips designated the Surveyor as the spot for Apollo 12 to land,

mission planning focused on the problems of precision landing (see above),

deployment of the ALSEP, geological observations and sample collection, and

examination of the Surveyor and its surroundings. 47 Although some at MSC

believed that returning some components of the Surveyor was of considerable

importance, other surface activities were given higher priority 48—probably in

deference to the scientists. (The site had been unanimously rejected by the Group

for Lunar Exploration Planning, who considered the inert spacecraft to be an

"attractive nuisance" that would likely divert the astronauts from more important work. 49 ) Deployment of the first ALSEP was high on the priority list, since

scientists had been disgruntled by the decision to fly a simplified package of surface instruments on Apollo 11 (see Chapter 8). Geologists wanted the Apollo 12

astronauts to be somewhat more selective than their predecessors in collecting

samples and stressed the importance of documenting (photographing and describing) them. They also preferred more rocks and less dust, if possible. To determine what the astronauts should do on and around Surveyor III, MSC had already

begun discussions with Hughes Aircraft Company.

Interlude: Alarums and Excursions

in the Scientific Community

The samples returned by Apollo 11 were just becoming available to

experimenters when Apollo 12 was launched, and while those scientists eagerly

awaited them, many in the scientific community expressed discontent with

NASA's management of the lunar exploration program. Some of their dissatisfaction stemmed from specific actions of the manned space flight organization

and the scientists' perception of their significance, some of it from disagreement

with the priorities of the program. Much of it, however, seems to have had a

much more elusive origin.

Scientists had for years bewailed the priority given to test pilots in selecting

crews for lunar exploration. Their distress was temporarily alleviated by the selection of two groups of scientists for training as astronauts, but flight assignments

remained a sore point. Those scientists most closely associated with planning the

missions understood that the capability to land on the moon and return had to

be developed first and accepted MSC's contention that test pilots were best suited

by experience to deal with the uncertainties of developmental flights. Even they,

however, expected that scientists would be assigned to missions very soon after

the first successful lunar landing.

Crews for the first two landing missions had been named in January and April

of 1969 without producing an outcry from the scientists. Early in August, however, the announcement of selection of the next two crews for lunar exploration

did provoke a response. The Apollo 13 crew included James A. Lovell, Jr., commander, Fred W. Haise, Jr., lunar module pilot, and Thomas Mattingly I1, command module pilot. Their backups were John W. Young, John L. Swigert, Jr.,

167
Where No Man Has Gone Before

and Charles M. Duke. For Apollo 14, Alan B. Shepard, Jr., was named commander, Edgar D. Mitchell, lunar module pilot, and Stuart A. Roosa, command

module pilot, backed up by Eugene A. Cernan, Ronald E. Evans, and Joe H.

Engle. 50 Not one of the 13 scientist-astronauts was included.* Worse yet from

the scientists' point of view, seniority—which hitherto had seemed to be one of

Deke Slayton's primary criteria for crew appointments—appeared to count for

nothing when the first class of scientist-astronauts acquired it: of the 12 crewmen named, only Lovell, Young, Shepard, and Cernan had been in the program

longer than they.**

This alone might not have been cause for alarm on the part of scientists had

it not been followed shortly by the resignation of several men occupying positions of some prominence in NASA's science program. At Headquarters, Dr.

Donald U. Wise, Lee Scherer's deputy in the Lunar Exploration Office, left to

take an academic appointment. Dr. Elbert A. King, Jr., a prime mover in establishing the lunar receiving laboratory at Houston and first curator of lunar samples, announced he would resign to become head of the geology department at

the University of Houston. The astronaut corps lost one of its scientist members

when F. Curtis Michel resigned to return to teaching and research at Rice University. Finally, Wilmot Hess, first director of Science and Applications at MSC, left

to become director of research at the Environmental Science Services Administration laboratories at Boulder, Colorado.

Each man had his own reasons for leaving NASA, and their near-simultaneous

departure seems to have been only coincidental. (King, for example, had made

a commitment to the University of Houston more than a year earlier.") Still, all

but Hess—who declined to discuss his resignation with the press—expressed some

dissatisfaction with the status of science in manned space flight programs. Michel's

main reason was to return to research, but he stated his disappointment that

NASA had shown "no serious intent to fly scientist-astronauts." King likewise

professed a desire to spend more time in research, which he found very difficult

to do in an administrative position, and warned that NASA had not yet convinced

the scientific community that it "will put together a program that will truly emphasize science." Wise discussed his choice somewhat reluctantly, expressing concern that criticism from the scientific community would intensify science's

problems: "With enough screams [from scientists]," he feared "we will fly only

five missions instead of ten—this would be the real tragedy." He too pointed

out (among other problems) "a lack of understanding of scientific goals at the

management level in NASA.'152

Hess's resignation was perhaps the most serious of all in the eyes of outside

scientists, because he had been brought to MSC specifically to give the Houston

center some scientific respectability (see Chapter 6). He had, however, found

little support from center management and no understanding of the proper role

of science. His plans to establish a credible research program at MSC, which

*Mitchell held a Ph.D., but it was in engineering (astronautics and aeronautics), not one of the

natural sciences.

**However, three of the scientists had spent a year learning to fly, and all five had begun their

astronaut training after the next class of pilots, which included all the rest of the Apollo 13 and 14

crews, had been selected.

168
Lunar Exploration Begins

included a substantial increase in the number of research scientists, had been

thwarted by agency-wide cuts in civil-service positions—the result of budget cuts

which had not been anticipated when he came to Houston. Apparently seeing

little hope of improvement, he had opted for a more promising environment.53

Yet one more scientist was to separate himself from Apollo. Eugene Shoemaker,

who from the very early days had been a vigorous advocate of science on Apollo

(see Chapter 2), had actively participated not only in program planning but also

in developing geologic methods for the astronauts to use on the moon. Now he

excoriated the program. Speaking to a Pasadena luncheon group in early October,

he expressed his strong opposition to the post-Apollo plans recently presented

by the President's Space Task Force—specifically the proposal to send humans

to Mars. The only justification of that mission, he said, was "to build big, new

systems in space." Apollo was that kind of system, built "primarily for the sake

of building a big system," and it had turned out to be hopelessly inadequate for

scientific purposes. The spacecraft and the mission mode were designed to

engineering and operational requirements, and the system was all but useless

for any other purpose. As a result, now that it was possible to send humans to

the moon, the system could be used for practically nothing else, because the

engineers had not considered any purpose for Apollo except to demonstrate that

people could go to the moon and return safely. Everything the Apollo 11

astronauts had done, Shoemaker said, including sample collection, could have

been done sooner and more cheaply by unmanned spacecraft. It was time to redesign the spacecraft and the space suits, provide surface mobility, and adapt the

missions to the tactics of field geology—the only activity that would make the

most of humans' inherent superiority to machines.54

Shoemaker's criticisms were not entirely without merit, although it was far too

late to make the changes he called for, and they were reported in a local paper

and then widely circulated by the wire services." Still, it was easy to discount

them as the complaints of a discontented participant whose ideas had not been

allowed to determine the course of the program. Over the years, Shoemaker's

early influence on Apollo science had been gradually preempted by laboratoryoriented scientists (geochemists, geophysicists, petrologists, mineralogists) many

of whom would scarcely classify field geology (Shoemaker's own specialty) as

a science at all.56

Defections by these highly visible scientists in the space agency were—as no

doubt some of them had intended—critically noticed by science's advocates in

the press. A New York Times editorial quoted Elbert King's contention that "there's

not enough sympathy with, or understanding of, scientific objectives at the higher

levels of NASA." The Times editorialist noted that "everything man has learned

in this last eventful month about both the moon and Mars makes it plain that

scientific objectives must enjoy much higher priorities in NASA's future efforts. ­17

The Washington Post went further, asserting that Hess's resignation was likely to

signal the scientific community that the goal of Apollo was simply "to improve

on the techniques of space flight instead of setting the mission of each flight

primarily to maximize the yield of basic scientific data.... It makes only a little

sense to go back to the moon again and again simply to improve our method

of getting there.... The scientists of space ... have been forced into the back

169
Where No Man Has Gone Before

seat of the manned space program. It is time now to make them the navigators.

The choice of missions ... should be largely in their hands. "58

Whether these editorials reflected a bias in favor of the intellectual elegance

of pure science or merely gross ignorance, they overlooked some basic facts about

Apollo's limited capabilities. Maximizing the yield of scientific data required

improving the techniques of manned space flight. Apollo 11 overshot its aiming

point by five miles (eight kilometers), and even the Washington Post would likely

have agreed that it made no sense to commit scientific missions if they could not

reach their targets. Nonetheless, progress toward scientific exploration was too

slow to suit some critics, and they evidently felt that their only recourse was to

take their case to the public.

The more subjective concerns of scientists were equally important but considerably less easy to understand and more difficult still to implement. King's charge

that NASA management did not sufficiently understand or sympathize with scientific objectives (whatever that meant) was seconded by others. Fred L. Whipple,

one of the country's foremost astronomers and a member of George Mueller's

Science and Technology Advisory Committee, put it to Mueller in early August

1969 in a letter calling attention to the lamentable situation at Houston. "I have

yet to talk to a scientist connected with the Apollo project," he wrote, "who feels

that he is really welcome there by the engineers. The atmosphere ... is not hostile but it certainly is negative." In 26 years of working with engineers, Whipple

said, he had often had disagreements but had "never encountered the negative

type of attitude that persists at the MSC." He had personally heard an astronaut

say, in effect, that if only they could put all the scientists in a cage, then the

engineers and astronauts could get on with the program. Clearly this was not

a milieu in which a scientist could work effectively.59

Later in the year, but in response to the same events, Alex J. Dessler, head

of the Space Physics and Astronomy department at Rice University, commented

on the discontent of the space scientists. In spite of the fact that American space

science was recognized as the most productive in the world, and space science

was relatively better supported than many other fields of science, the discontent

of space scientists was widespread and growing more intense. Dessler noted that

their attitude, though in some sense incongruous, was important, because Congress was sure to listen if a number of prominent space scientists began to condemn the Apollo program. Scientists evidently felt that they had no effective

advocate at a high level in NASA—in contrast to the engineers, who were quite

well represented by George Mueller at the head of a program office. Even when

the scientists got what they wanted, Dessler said, they felt frustrated at "the

appearance of condescension on the part of the engineers ... the scientists sometimes feel they are being thrown a bone to shut them up. "60

Both Whipple and Dessler suggested similar solutions to the problem. Whipple

thought that much of the misunderstanding arose from NASA's desire to justify

Apollo on scientific grounds, something he believed could not be done. Manned

space flight, which he supported, had its own reasons for being, but they were

not necessarily scientific. He suggested that the only way MSC could gain the

support of scientists was to put a scientist of high repute, acceptable to both outside critics and the engineers and astronauts with whom he worked, in a position "in which [he] has a major role in all of the decisions made with regard to

170
Lunar Exploration Begins

the operation of the Center." Dessler saw a need for a similar scientific heavyweight at Headquarters; scientists had had no such advocate since Hugh Dryden.*

For the manned space flight program to be acceptable to the scientific community, apparently, scientists had to be in undisputed command.

This attitude was not new; even in the unmanned space science program, scientists contended for influence in shaping NASA's programs and felt they did not

have enough. Homer Newell, as associate administrator for the Office of Space

Science and Applications from 1963 to 1967, had dealt with them time and again.

In retrospect he wrote, "Scientists are a contentious lot, ... and the tremendous

opportunities of the space program inspired them to more intense dispute than

usual." Much of the tension in the space program, Newell said, "stemmed from

the scientists' presumption of special privilege, which at times Congress found

irritating." 61 That presumption, sometimes verging on arrogance, was unmistakable in the complaints aired during the summer of 1969, and, like Congress,

Apollo's engineers could hardly help finding it irritating. By their own lights,

the engineers were doing their best to facilitate scientific exploration of the moon

within the limitations of a very complex technology that offered many chances

for catastrophic failure. They were reluctant to take extreme risks—as by landing

at a site for which they had inadequate data simply because it looked more interesting to the scientists.

The general malaise of the times may also have contributed to this somewhat

vague but strongly felt sense of impotence on the part of scientists. For the first

time in some years the value of pure research, long extolled by spokesmen for

science, was in question. The college generation of young Americans, including

many science students, grew concerned for the earth's environment. They often

indiscriminately attributed its deterioration to both inhumane science and mindless technology. They also disparaged the academics' devotion to research—most

particularly research subsidized by the military—as the major function of the

university, demanding more attention to teaching. A small group of radical students forcibly brought these concerns to the attention of scientists late in 1969

at the national meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of

Science in Boston. The normally sedate proceedings were disrupted by hecklers,

organized demonstrations, and rump sessions, to the considerable distress of the

scientific community.62

Whatever the origins of the space scientists' unhappiness, their public clamor

for more science on Apollo did not go unheeded. George Mueller wrote to MSC

Director Robert Gilruth in early September 1969, urging him to give this problem

his personal attention. After listing the steps already taken to support the science

program within a steadily declining personnel ceiling, Mueller cautioned that

*Hugh L. Dryden, director of the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics (NACA) from 1947

to 1958, achieved his reputation through basic research in aerodynamics conducted at the National

Bureau of Standards. His election to the National Academy of Sciences in 1944 attested to his stature

among his peers. Although he was not active in research after taking over NACA, Dryden's skills

as a research administrator during difficult times earned widespread respect in the agency. He was

appointed deputy administrator of NASA in 1958, remaining in that post until his death in 1965.

Some pioneer space scientists remember him with something approaching hero worship.

171
is

i

ee—

F

Where No Man Has Gone Before

we will certainly detract measurably from the success of Apollo 11, and the

missions yet to be flown, unless we meet the challenge [of providing] the support required in the science area.

Noting that "some members of the scientific community are impatient and as

you know, are willing to air their views without necessarily relating those views

to what is practicable and possible," he stated that

it is our policy to do the maximum science possible in each Apollo mission

and to provide adequate science support.... we must assure ourselves and

the world of science that we are making those adjustments which will provide steadily increasing and effective support for the science area .63

It remained to be seen whether the impatient scientists would be mollified by

the "adjustments" Mueller promised.

Preparations for the Next Mission

Scientists had been reasonably well satisfied with the way the Apollo 11 samples

were processed, although there was considerable waste motion and some confusion attributable to inexperience in the first real exercise of the lunar receiving

laboratory. The most serious complaint concerned the long delay in releasing samples to principal investigators. However, many deficiencies in equipment and

procedures had shown up during the first mission that required correction before

Jim Lovell (left) and Fred Haise work with the heat flow experiment during training at the Kennedy

Space Center.

ORIGINAL PAGE 172

E3LACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Lunar Exploration Begins

ORIGINAL PAGE

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH

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Fred Haise, lunar module pilot on Apollo 13, practices using the lunar drill.

173
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Apollo 12, scheduled for mid-November. So, while completing their tasks following Apollo 11, scientists in the Lunar Receiving Laboratory were also preparing to incorporate necessary changes.

In early September the Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team forwarded to

Anthony J. Caho, MSC's new Director of Science and Applications, a list of recommended changes concerning matters such as weighing of samples, procedures

for transferring samples during quarantine, and photography. They also suggested

improving the display of information on sample history, status, and location, since

it had proved difficult during Apollo 11 to keep everyone informed of where the

individual samples were and what had been done to them.64

Also in need of improvement was the vacuum system into which the returned

sample containers were first admitted to the laboratory. Problems had been foreseen in handling the samples under high vacuum, and indeed problems had developed during simulations and during the first mission (see Chapter 9). Members

of the analysis planning team now felt it was mandatory to open the lunar sample container in an atmosphere of dry nitrogen rather than in vacuum. If two

containers were returned, one could be opened in the vacuum system; but rather

than conduct the preliminary examination there, the contents should immediately be canned and stored under vacuum for the few investigators who required

vacuum-preserved specimens. The vacuum facility posed too many problems,

such as rupture of the gloves and contamination by organic materials from the

vacuum pumps, to allow continuation of its use for all the lunar samples.65

Others who had been involved in handling the Apollo 11 samples offered

suggestions for reducing the number of people in the laboratory, separating the

functions of the preliminary examination team and the analysis planning team,

and eliminating the preparation of two samples for quarantine testing. All these

changes would speed up the release of samples to outside investigators. 66

A meeting in late September settled many of these questions, deciding that a

single "biopool" sample would be prepared for the biological tests rather than

the two that had been used on Apollo 11 and that the two sample return containers would be processed simultaneously: one in the vacuum system in the physical chemistry laboratory and the other under sterile nitrogen in the biological

preparation laboratory. Among other procedural changes adopted at this meeting was a provision that the analysis planning team would begin work only after

the preliminary examination team had completed its tasks.67

The Interagency Committee on Back Contamination continued to press for the

installation of a bacterial filter on the command module postlanding ventilation

system. MSC was unyielding although engineers continued to evaluate solutions

to the problem. 68 Agreement was reached to discontinue using the biological isolation garments, provided no crew member was ill on return. Recovery teams

would provide clean flight suits and respiratory masks for the astronauts to put

on before they left the command module.69

For the crews, August, September, and October were packed with simulations,

briefings, and field trips. In mid-August they got their first briefing on the Surveyor at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory. A month later they spent a day with the

geologists in the lunar receiving laboratory, examining the Apollo 11 rocks and

discussing plans for collecting samples.70

174
Lunar Exploration Begins

Geologists had high hopes for the Apollo 12 crew. They had been the first to

go through a revised geology training program that stressed basic principles of

site exploration rather than minutiae such as identification of rocks. By the time

they were ready for launch, Pete Conrad and Alan Bean and their backups had

well over 200 hours of field work under their belts. Their last field trip, to the

volcanic fields of Hawaii, was extremely satisfying to their training officers. They

handled every problem put to them, their descriptions and photographs were

excellent, and their sampling of the terrain was first-rate. Everyone looked forward to superior results from the first real lunar scientific expedition.71

At Kennedy Space Center, preparations for the launch of Apollo 12 went

smoothly. The first complete lunar surface experiments package arrived at KSC

in late March. Spacecraft and Saturn V were mated on July 1, and the vehicle

was moved to launch complex 39A on September 8. A week before launch the

recovery quarantine equipment and mobile quarantine facility were ready for shipment to the recovery ship, U.S. S. Hornet. From then on, the only hitch in launch

preparations occurred two days before launch, when discovery of faulty insulation on a liquid hydrogen tank in the service module required exchanging the

tank for one on the Apollo 13 spacecraft. As launch day dawned, the only portent of possible delay was a cold front approaching the Cape from the north.72

175
11

FIRST PHASE OF LUNAR

EXPLORATION COMPLETED:

1969-1970

Lunar exploration began in earnest with the launch of the first "H" mission,

Apollo 12. Successful in all respects, Apollo 12 crowned the accomplishments

of 1969 by establishing the ability to put the lunar module down on the moon

within walking distance of a desired spot. That done, the next mission was

planned for a landing on the Fra Mauro Formation, the site highest on the scientists' priority list. Apollo 13 was targeted to land there, but an equipment failure

forestalled a lunar landing and came close to costing three lives. Real-time improvisation saved NASA from calamity and demonstrated the versatility of the Manned

Spacecraft Center's mission planning and mission control teams.* After a thorough investigation that delayed subsequent missions by almost a year, Apollo

14 was assigned to land at the same site.

Not long after Apollo 12 returned, scientists gathered in Houston to present

the results of their investigations of the first lunar samples. In what was surely

one of the most exciting scientific conclaves of the century, practically all existing

theories of the moon's origin were thrown into doubt in one respect or another,

and scientists were more eager than ever for data. Shortly after that conference,

management at MSC sat down with lunar investigators and worked out ways

of increasing the amount and quality of the data to be returned by future Apollo

missions.

Their expectations, however, were soon reduced when the pressures of a tightening federal budget forced cancellation of one of the planned Apollo missions.

Faced with drastic reductions in funding, NASA managers chose to allot more

of the available money to post-Apollo programs on which continuation of the

manned space flight program depended. Apollo 11 had ushered in an era of hard

choices, not expanding horizons.

Intrepid Seeks Out Surveyor III

The morning of November 14, 1969, was cold, cloudy, and wet at Kennedy

Space Center. Weather radar showed rain showers marking a cold front 80 miles

*See Appendix 8.

PRECEDING PAGE BLANK NOT FILMdY PA" ( I /_ 1NTFPM0MALtY PLARK
Where No Man Has Gone Before

(130 kilometers) north of the Cape and moving south. With launch only hours

away, rain, broken low clouds, and overcast at 3,000 meters (9,800 feet) caused

launch officials to consider their options. Reports indicated no thunderstorms or

severe turbulence in the area, however, and conditions were better than the minimums specified by launch rules. An hour and 22 minutes before liftoff, a pump

replenishing liquid oxygen in the launch vehicle tanks failed. With success depending on a backup pump, launch director Walter Kapryan chose to proceed.' The

crew had trained intensively for the specific features of the planned landing site,

and if the day's launch window closed, that site would not be accessible for

another month.

At 11:22 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, President Richard M. Nixon—the only

incumbent chief executive ever to witness an Apollo launch—along with 3,000

invited guests and a large crowd of tourists, watched as the Saturn V rose from the

pad and accelerated toward the clouds. Just before the vehicle disappeared into

the overcast, two streaks of lightning flashed toward the launch complex. In the

command module Yankee Clipper, mission commander Pete Conrad heard the

master alarm. He looked at the caution and warning panel, and "it was a sight to

behold." Sixteen seconds later another bolt discharged, and Conrad told Houston, "We just lost the platform [in the inertial guidance system], gang: I don't

know what happened here; we had everything in the world drop out. ' 1 2 The fuel

cells had automatically disconnected and several panel gauges were temporarily

disturbed, but otherwise everything seemed normal. After the crew reset the fuel

cells, the flight continued while Mission Control tried to figure out what had

happened and what the consequences might be. The best guess seemed to be that

the launch vehicle, trailing its plume of ionized (and electrically conductive)

exhaust gas, had triggered a lightning discharge that otherwise would not have

occurred. Except for nine telemetry sensors not essential to the flight, all systems

were normal.3

Apollo 12 flew smoothly into a normal earth orbit, and after the inertial guidance system was realigned and all systems checked out, Houston gave the signal to fire the S-IVB stage for translunar insertion. Three and a half hours into

the flight, command pilot Richard F. Gordon turned command module Yankee

Clipper around, extracted the lunar module Intrepid from its stowage site atop the

third stage, and Apollo 12 continued on its way to the moon.4

The only midcourse correction maneuver of the outbound flight was performed

the next day, a 9.2-second burn that put the spacecraft on a fuel-saving hybrid

trajectory.' For the rest of the uneventful three-and-a-half-day trip to lunar orbit,

the crew spent their time housekeeping, tending to spacecraft systems, and

observing the earth and the moon.'

Arriving at the moon 831/2 hours after liftoff, Conrad fired the main propulsion

engine for almost 6 minutes to go into an elliptical lunar orbit. Five hours later a

second burn put the spacecraft into a circular orbit at 60 nautical miles (111

kilometers) altitude, where Yankee Clipper would stay until it was time to return to

earth. The spacecraft passed over and photographed Apollo 13's landing area

in the Fra Mauro formation, and on the tenth revolution Conrad notified Capcom Gerald Carr that "you can tell good Captain Shaky [Jim Lovell, commander

of Apollo 13] that he can relax. We've got his pictures."'

178
First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

APOLLO 12 GROUNDTRACK - LANDING PHASE

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Actual and projected ground tracks for the Apollo 12 landing. Numbered circles indicate successive

changes in the landing point designation made by Commander Conrad during the landing.

Six hours into the fourth day, Conrad and Bean prepared to enter and activate

the lunar module. Both were having trouble with their biomedical sensors; Conrad's were blistering his skin and Bean's were producing erratic signals. Both

men cleaned and reattached their electrodes, then finished donning their space

suits and began preparing Intrepid for departure .8

For the next several hours Conrad and Bean in Intrepid and Gordon in Yankee

Clipper were busy setting up their guidance and navigation computers and

exchanging data with the ground. When all was ready, Gordon turned the spacecraft so that the long axis of the command and service module was perpendicular to the flight path with the lunar module outward from the moon, retracted

the docking latches, and fired his attitude-control thrusters to move Yankee Clipper away from Intrepid. 9 The landing craft was 5 miles (8 kilometers) north of its

intended ground track—largely as a result of an error in the landing site location

and the inability to adequately correct for the moon's irregular gravity field. This

and other errors would be removed by the instructions transmitted to the guidance computer after the lunar module headed down for its landing.10

On the back side of the moon in the 13th revolution, the computer triggered

a 29-second firing of the descent engine, bringing the low point of Intrepid's orbit

to 8.1 nautical miles (15 kilometers). As the lander passed north of Mare Nectaris, Conrad turned it on its back with the descent engine pointed along the flight

path and switched the engine on to begin the final approach. Everything went

exactly as expected, and after two minutes Conrad commented that it "feels good

to be standing up in a g-field again." Three minutes later the module's attitudecontrol thrusters began firing busily—more than Conrad thought they should—

but Houston assured him that all was well."

After seven minutes Intrepid nosed over into a near-upright position and for

the first time Conrad could see the lunar surface. The principal landmark identifying his landing point was a pattern of craters the astronauts called "Snowman"; Surveyor III lay halfway up the eastern wall of the crater that was the

ORIGINAL PAGE 179

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
APOLLO 12

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Snowman's torso, and Intrepid was targeted for the center of the crater. As soon

as he could see out the window, Conrad cried delightedly, "Hey, there it is [Snowman]! There it is! Son of a gun! Right down the middle of the road!" Then, as

Bean called out altitude, velocity, and quantity of fuel remaining, Conrad maneuvered the craft with his hand controller to pick a smooth spot to land on. The

engine exhaust began kicking up dust about a hundred feet (30 meters) above

the surface and by the time Intrepid reached 50 feet (15 meters) the cloud obscured

the surface completely. At 1:54:36 a.m. EST on November 20, Pete Conrad made

a blind landing—exactly where, he could not tell, but certainly close to the intended

spot.12

Conrad was naturally anxious to determine where he had set Intrepid down,

and while he and Bean went through the post-landing check list they occasionally looked out the windows for landmarks that would allow Houston to pinpoint their location, but without success. After changing his mind a time or two,

Conrad finally concluded, "I'm not sure that I'm not sitting right smack on the

other side of the Surveyor crater, just a little bit past it." Two hours later, Dick

Gordon in Yankee Clipper confirmed Conrad's guess when he sighted both Intrepid

and Surveyor III through his sextant as he passed over the site. He told Houston

that the lunar module was "on the left shoulder of the Snowman .... about

a third of the way from the Surveyor crater to the head. 13 Postmission calculaFEET

2210 CST 19 NOV A9 —

0 500

0111 CST 20 NOV A9 n.w^re sruraur aerru '.

Apollo 12's second traverse, made by Pete Conrad and Alan Bean. "Head" crater was the head of the

"Snowman," the pattern of craters used by Conrad to locate his landing site.

180
First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

tions placed Intrepid on the northwest rim of the Surveyor crater, 535 feet (163

meters) from the inert spacecraft. l' Had there been windows in the back of the

lunar module, Conrad could have spotted the Surveyor as soon as the dust settled.

After postlanding checks of systems, Conrad and Bean described what they

could see from their spacecraft. Intrepid had landed in undulating terrain pocked

with craters ranging from a few feet to several hundred feet across, the larger

ones rimmed by large blocks of rock. Numerous boulders, up to 20 feet (6 meters)

in size, were scattered around the site, most of them angular rather than rounded,

many showing fillets of dust around the base. Immediately in front of the landing craft Bean saw an area of "patterned ground"—parallel cracks in the surface

soil perhaps an eighth of an inch (3 millimeters) deep. From the lunar module

the crew could distinguish no color differences in the rocks or soil; everything

seemed the same bright white.15

Five and a half hours after landing, Conrad squeezed out the hatch, then clambered down the ladder to the bottom rung. As he stepped off onto the landing

Manned and unmanned lunar exploration meet: lunar module Intrepid, extreme upper left, rests on

the rim of the crater in which Surveyor III, right center, landed three years earlier. Apollo 12

astronauts Pete Conrad and Alan Bean took this picture toward the end of their second surface

traverse. They photographed the spacecraft and cut off several pieces of its hardware to return to earth

for study.

ORICINAL PAGLE

lsl BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Where No Man Has Gone Before

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Apollo 12 Commander Pete Conrad inspects the Surveyor III spacecraft. Two solar panels at the top of

the unmanned spacecraft provided electricity. Projecting in front of Conrad is the Surveyor's surface

sampler, extended on its lazy-tongs mechanism. Immediately to Conrad's right is the mirror for

Surveyor's television camera, which took hundreds of photographs of the surface. The lunar module

Intrepid, with its high-gain antenna deployed on the surface, is on the lip of the Surveyor crater,

upper right.

pad Conrad remarked, "Man, that [step] may have been a small one for Neil,

but that's a long one for me."* Looking around, he spotted the Surveyor halfway up the opposite wall of the crater. One of the first things Conrad noticed

was that he was going to get extremely dirty: the surface dust was finer and deeper

than he had expected.16

After Conrad had collected the contingency sample Bean joined him on the surface, bringing the television camera with him. A few minutes later Houston

reported that the camera was not working. Cursory attempts at trouble-shooting

were fruitless, and television coverage for the mission—desirable but not

essential—had to be written off.**" The explorers pressed on with their other

'At 5 feet 6 inches (168 centimeters), Conrad was one of the shorter astronauts; Armstrong was

just under 6 feet (183 centimeters). The lowest rung of the ladder was about 2.5 feet (75 centimeters)

above the landing pad.

"Later examination determined that the image-tube target in the camera had been damaged by

exposure to intense light. Apparently Bean had inadvertently pointed the camera at the sun or a reflection off the lunar module while helping Conrad set up a directional antenna. MSC-01855, "Apollo

12 Mission Report," March 1970, p. 14-50.

ORIGINAL P AGE

182 BLACK AND WHITE PHO TOGzAP4
First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

chores, apparently enjoying themselves immensely; Conrad chuckled and

hummed to himself as he went about examining the lunar module, collecting and

photographing samples, and describing the landscape.1,

The primary objective of their first excursion was to deploy the scientific experiments. Conrad and Bean unloaded the package easily, picked a spot 130 meters

(425 feet) northwest of the lander, and laid out the instruments without any serious difficulty. 19 On their way back to Intrepid they picked up more documented

samples and Bean took a soil sample with the core tube. After nearly four hours

on the surface, the astronauts returned to the lunar module, dusted each other

off as best they could without brush or vacuum cleaner, and climbed back inside.

After a brief evaluation of the day's work and some discussion of the next day's

plans, Houston signed off and the two astronauts strung up their hammocks and

turned in.20

Overnight the geologists in Houston, working from several scenarios prepared

before the mission, formulated detailed plans for the geology exercise the

astronauts would carry out on their second outing. Next morning, when Bean

and Conrad were awake and ready to talk, CapCom Paul Weitz read through

the plans with them, discussing the scientists' recommendations for sampling

and photography, while the astronauts offered comments based on the previous

day's experience. Then they donned and checked over their space suits, recharged

with oxygen their portable life-support systems, vented the cabin, and set out

to collect samples.21

During the next four hours Bean and Conrad covered something more than

one kilometer (3,300 feet), following a large-scale photographic map prepared for

the traverse and chatting constantly with each other and with Houston. 22 Scientists in Houston followed their progress from their references to the maps they

carried. The extensive conversation was intended to substitute for a geologist's

field notes. 23 On the nearly featureless lunar surface, sampling proved somewhat

difficult; except for size, most of the rocks showed few distinguishing features.

Colors and textures were not always easy to determine, and when they were,

the astronauts tended to use nonscientific terms in describing them—probably

a symptom of their sensitivity to possible misuse of geological terminology. At

one point Conrad noted a rock containing a "ginger-ale-bottle green" crystal

(which was probably olivine) , and a few minutes later Bean spotted a rock he

said "looks almost like a granite," but immediately added, "of course it probably isn't, but it has the same sort of texture." Bean and Conrad documented their

samples carefully, photographing many of them and describing the location and

bag number for later reference. At "Head" crater, following instructions from

Houston, Conrad dislodged a medium-sized rock and allowed it to roll down the

slope to determine whether the seismometer some 70 meters (230 feet) away could

detect it (it did). Then it was on to "Bench" and "Sharp" craters, where they

sampled several large rocks on the surface that might be bedrock thrown out when

the craters were formed .14

Two hours into the traverse the astronauts were on the edge of the Surveyor

crater. The slope of the crater wall was much less than it had appeared the day

before, when the low sun cast long, deceptive shadows. Pausing to reload a camera and survey the situation, they decided it would be easier to walk across the

slope of the crater wall rather than come down from the rim. Approaching from

183
Where No Man Has Gone Before

the side, they could take photographs of the landing-pad imprints and the trenches

dug by Surveyor's remotely controlled arm without disturbing the surface. These

would be compared with television pictures transmitted from the spacecraft

immediately after its landing.21

Examination of the Surveyor, the only human artifact ever encountered in lunar

exploration, was among the more interesting parts of the mission for Conrad and

Bean. What they noticed first was that much of its originally white surface had

turned brown—a change they attributed to a deposit of dust when they found

it could be wiped off. After photographing the surrounding surface and examining the spacecraft, they removed the Surveyor's television camera and cut off

pieces of electrical cable and structural tubing for study by scientists at the Jet

Propulsion Laboratory. They decided to remove the trenching scoop as well; then,

after collecting soil samples, they headed for another small crater to take a few

more samples on their way back to the lunar module.26

One of several intriguing mounds in the Apollo 12 landing area in Oceanus Procellarum, reported but

not thoroughly investigated by astronauts Alan Bean and Pete Conrad.

ORIGINAL PACs184BLACK AND WHILE PHOTOGRAPR
First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

Back in their spacecraft, Conrad and Bean had almost six hours before lifting

off to rendezvous with Yankee Clipper. After throwing out their portable lifesupport systems they straightened up the cabin, stowing the rock boxes and

improvising stowage for the television camera, which Houston wanted to examine. They had carried in considerably more lunar dust than Armstrong and Aldrin

had reported; Conrad told Houston they looked like "a couple of bituminous

coal miners right at the moment, but we're happy. "27

Despite the fact that they had trebled the existing record for lunar surface

activity, Bean and Conrad were not exhausted and had expended about 10 percent less energy than anticipated. Both returned to the lunar module with almost

40 percent of their oxygen supply remaining on both excursions. 28 Bean suggested

to the medical officers that he would have enjoyed an occasional drink of water

while working on the surface; not that he felt dehydrated, but he would have

been more comfortable if he had been able to relieve the dryness in his mouth.29

Intrepid's ascent stage lifted off the moon on time, and an hour and a half later

Conrad had Yankee Clipper in sight. Back in lunar orbit the dust the lunar explorers

had brought in with them began to float, thick enough to be visible in the cabin.

After the two spacecraft had docked they attempted to vacuum up the dust, with

little success, so they removed and packaged their suits in the lunar module, hoping to minimize contamination of the command module. In spite of their efforts,

considerable dust clung to everything they brought back and remained suspended

An eclipse of the sun such as few have ever seen. On earth, a solar eclipse is produced by the moon; as

the Apollo 12 spacecraft moved into the earth's shadow on the return trip, the earth eclipsed the sun.

3 185
Where No Man Has Gone Before

in the atmosphere; the environmental control system seemed not to filter it out

as completely as had been expected.30

Intrepid, now a useless hulk, still had one more contribution to make to the

scientific objectives of the mission. For the benefit of seismologists wanting to

calibrate the instrument that Bean and Conrad had just left on the moon, Mission Control now burned the empty spacecraft's remaining fuel to take it out of

orbit. At a speed of 1.67 kilometers per second (3,735 miles per hour) the ascent

stage plowed into the moon 76 kilometers (47 miles) east-southeast of the instrument package, producing a bizarre response: the seismometer recorded vibrations that persisted almost undiminished for nearly an hour. It was so completely

unlike anything ever seen on earth that seismologists had no immediate explanation. One scientist compared the result to striking a church bell and hearing

the reverberations for 30 minutes .31

Yankee Clipper stayed in lunar orbit for 11 more revolutions, finishing up the

"bootstrap" photography and landmark tracking, looking at sites being considered for Apollo 14 and 15. Then the crew boosted their spacecraft out of lunar

orbit and settled in for the three-day voyage home. Now and then they chatted

with the duty CapCom about something that crossed their minds concerning their

exploration. Once in a while scientists wanted to debrief them concerning details

of their lunar surface activity. For most of the time, however, they relaxed .32

At one point both Conrad and Bean passed along some reservations they had

about the field geology exercise. They had found the lunar surface a particularly

difficult one for classical field-geological techniques. Bean commented,

... we talked with [the geologists], before we went, about [the fact that] the

main objectives of the geology wasn't to go out and grab a few rocks and take

some pictures, but to try to understand the morphology and the stratigraphy ... of the vicinity you were in. Look around and try to use your head

along those lines. Well, I'll tell you, there [were] less than ten times I stood

in spots ... and said, "Okay now, Bean, ... is it possible to look out there

and try to determine ... which is first, which is second, and all that?" ... That

whole area has been acted on by these meteoroids or something else so that

all these features that are normally neat clues to you on earth are not available

for observation.

Conrad concurred: "I think even a trained geologist would have trouble doing

a whole lot of field geology that way on the moon. "33 Long afterward, Bean still

felt that astronauts could be most effective on the lunar surface by selecting and

documenting as many apparently different kinds of samples as possible rather

than attempting on-the-spot geologizing. 34 During a press conference on the last

day out, Conrad was asked whether he thought it would be desirable to have

a geologist as a member of the crew. He did indeed think so, but pointed out

that landing Intrepid had required all the piloting skill he had 31—implicitly echoing Deke Slayton's contention that landing on the moon was not yet a job for

a novice.

Early on the morning of November 24 Apollo 12 splashed down some 600 kilometers (375 miles) east of Pago Pago, 3.5 kilometers (2 miles) from the recovery

ship U.S. S. Hornet. The landing was rough—apparently Yankee Clipper hit a rising wave as it swung on its parachutes—hard enough to dislodge a 16-mm movie

186
1^

First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

camera from its bracket and slam it into Alan Bean's forehead, momentarily stunning him and opening a 1-inch (2.5-centimeter) cut, which Conrad bandaged.36

The recovery swimmers soon arrived, tossed respirators and coveralls—replacing

the biological isolation garments that the Apollo 11 crew had found so

objectionable—into the command module, then assisted the astronauts into the

raft. Half an hour later recovery helicopters set the crew down aboard the Hornet

and they went straight to their mobile quarantine facility. Lunar sample containers

and film magazines were removed and flown to Pago Pago and thence to Houston. The astronauts had a longer journey: four days aboard ship to Hawaii, then

a nine-hour flight to Houston. On the morning of November 29, Conrad, Bean,

and Gordon entered the Lunar Receiving Laboratory for their 11-day stay in

quarantine.37

That Apollo 12 was a success was apparent even on preliminary evaluation.

The procedural changes incorporated to improve landing accuracy had allowed

Conrad to put Intrepid down within sight of Surveyor III, exactly as intended. Lunar

exploration had been easy; neither Bean nor Conrad encountered any unexpected

difficulties and both had oxygen to spare when they returned. And while they

J

The last leg of a half-million-mile journey: in the early morning light of November 29, 1969, the

Apollo 12 mobile quarantine facility is trucked through the main entrance to the Manned Spacecraft

Center on its way to the lunar receiving laboratory and quarantine.

ORIGINAL PAGE

187 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Where No Man Has Gone Before

had found it hard to apply their field-geology training on the unrevealing surface of Oceanus Procellarum, they had collected nearly 75 pounds (34 kilograms)

of samples, most of them documented. The surface experiments they had set up

were returning streams of data, and scientists agreed the astronauts had done

a remarkable job. Communication between scientists in Houston and the

astronauts on the moon had been well handled by Mission Control. 38 If Apollo

12 was a reliable indicator, the scientific return from the remaining eight missions should be gratifying.

Lunar Receiving Laboratory Operations

The modifications to equipment and procedures (see Chapter 10) necessitated

by experience with Apollo 11 were completed and the Lunar Receiving Laboratory was ready for operations before Apollo 12 left the launch pad. 31 When the

sample containers arrived in Houston, the one containing the documented samples was transferred to the biological laboratory to be opened under sterile nitrogen, while the bulk sample container was opened in the vacuum system. The

first quick look showed that Conrad and Bean had selected larger rocks than Armstrong and Aldrin did, and that there were noticeable differences: the Apollo 12

samples were almost entirely igneous, whereas the earlier specimens had contained about 75 percent breccia (rocks formed by compaction without alteration).40

Still more samples arrived with the astronauts on November 29. Lacking room

in the sample return containers, Conrad had brought back several large rocks

as well as the Surveyor parts in the command module.41

After samples were taken for biological testing, 42 the Preliminary Examination

Team began its work. This time they concentrated on description and photographic documentation of the contents of the rock boxes, saving detailed examination until later, so that the Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team could begin

its work earlier. During this preliminary examination a small cut appeared in one

of the chamber gloves. The incident was treated as a "spill" of lunar material

that contaminated the laboratory and sent 11 people into quarantine, including

several scientists from the Preliminary Examination Team. 43 Providing quarters

for that many additional people presented a problem, but by putting extra beds

in the available rooms and using the Mobile Quarantine Facility (which could be

connected with the Crew Reception Area), all were accommodated. The scientists were disappointed in being cut off from work with the samples, but preliminary examination continued without them.44

Other than the fault in the chamber glove, operations in the receiving laboratory went smoothly. A week after the samples were returned, all had been inventoried and given preliminary examination, the sample for biological testing had

been prepared, and two samples had been delivered to the radiation counting

laboratory for assay of low-level radioactivity. 41

By mid-December scientists in the Lunar Receiving Laboratory had determined

some of the basic characteristics of the Apollo 12 samples. Some members of the

site selection board had objected to the Apollo 12 site on the grounds that it was

188
First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

too much like Apollo 11's (see Chapter 10), but these analyses showed otherwise. Chemically, the rocks from both sites were similar, containing the same

elements but in somewhat different proportions. Only two rocks from Apollo

12 were breccias, however, which predominated in the Apollo 11 samples. Many

of the igneous rocks returned by Apollo 12 were very coarse grained, suggesting

that they might have crystallized slowly, probably at considerable depth. While

the Apollo 11 samples had been notably rich in titanium, those from Apollo 12

were not. Both types were deficient in volatile elements. Olivine comprised only

about 10 percent of the first samples but was abundant in the second set. 46 Petrological examination indicated that the Apollo 12 rocks had crystallized at a high

temperature .47 Preliminary potassium-argon dating suggested that the samples

from Oceanus Procellarum had solidified some 2.2 to 2.6 billion years ago, compared to about 4 billion years for those from the Tranquility site. 48 Detailed results

from the work of principal investigators would not be available for some months,

but these preliminary findings provoked considerable discussion at the first Lunar

Science Conference the following month.

Elsewhere in the Lunar Receiving Laboratory, the crew and their companions

in confinement had an uneventful three weeks. Debriefings by engineers and

scientists took up several hours a day for the first week; preparing the pilot's

report required much of the next, and they were grateful to have the uniterrupted

time to complete this chore. Visits by their families—through the glass wall in

the conference room—plus television and movies and the occasional game of pool

or Ping-Pong, provided some diversion. Conrad worked on assembling an FM

receiver kit but did not complete it. The scientists managed to get some samples

passed in to them in the crew reception area and were able to continue work on

the samples to a limited extent. They also got the chance to discuss the lunar

traverses with Conrad and Bean, using photographs as they became available.49

Periodic medical evaluations showed no change in the condition of either the

crews or the quarantined scientists, and on December 10, 36 hours before the

quarantine officially ended, they were released, to be kept under medical surveillance until biological tests on the samples showed them to be no threat to

life on earth.so

Throughout December those tests continued as the Apollo 12 samples were

exposed to dozens of plant and animal species. Meanwhile the examination and

characterization of the lunar rocks and soil continued, and the Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team began the task of matching investigators' requirements with

the samples. Release of material to outside researchers was scheduled as soon

as the biological tests were completed, expected in early January 1970.

The First Lunar Science Conference

The decade of Apollo ended with investigators of the lunar samples preparing

to present their first findings to the scientific world. On January 5, 1970, several

hundred scientists, including all 142 principal investigators for the Apollo 11 samples, met in Houston for the first of many annual Lunar Science Conferences.

For four days they discussed the chemistry, mineralogy, and petrology of the

189
Where No Man Has Gone Before

lunar samples, described the search for carbon compounds and evidence of living material, the results of age determinations, and what had been learned from

the data returned from the surface instruments.

The flood of information presented at the conference precluded any large generalizations. Some of the rocks brought back by Apollo 11 were basalts, formed

by melting, but the samples contained a high percentage of breccias. Most of the

rock fragments were similar to the larger rocks; a small number, however, were

entirely unlike the rest and may have come from the nearby lunar highlands.

The properties of most of the material were consistent with formation at high

temperature in the absence of oxygen or water. More than 20 minerals known

on earth had been identified, suggesting a similarity of origin for the two planets,

but at least three new ones unique to the moon had been discovered. The ages

of the lunar rocks and soil seemed to differ: the basalts from Tranquility Base

were found to be between 3 and 4 billion years old, while the soil contained particles believed to have been formed 4.6 billion years ago." In light of the recently

determined age of the Apollo 12 samples, which were roughly a billion years younger, these numbers indicated that more than one cataclysmic event had shaped

the lunar surface.

Other studies showed that some lunar material dug up from below the surface

had once been on the surface, indicating that the lunar soil was undergoing constant "gardening." Studies of isotopes produced by cosmic-ray bombardment

indicated that some lunar rocks had been on or just below the surface for at least

10 million years.52

The search for carbon compounds—possible relics of life forms in the moon

rocks—was inconclusive, in part because the methods of detection were extremely

sensitive. Carbon and some carbon compounds were detected, but no molecules

that could clearly be identified as derived from living organisms. The intensive

search for living organisms conducted in the Lunar Receiving Laboratory was

negative, as were efforts to identify fossil microorganisms. 53

On the whole the early work on the Apollo 11 samples was more intriguing

than revealing. A few scientists were willing, on the basis of the results presented

at the Houston conference, to discard one or more theories of lunar origin, but

most were not. One commented, "some still like the moon hot; some like it cold."

Many called attention to the limitations of the data and the futility of drawing

sweeping conclusions with information from such a small area. One of them put

it in perspective with the comment, "what I looked at was an area equal to the

size of three postage stamps and a thimbleful of material"; another remarked

facetiously, "our results are based on the wanton destruction of two grams [about

the weight of a dime] of lunar material. "54

After four days of discussion, a panel of prominent scientists attempted a summary at a news conference. Robert Jastrow, director of NASA's Goddard Institute for Space Studies, said that "old descriptions in terms of a hot or cold moon

are an oversimplification." To Edward Anders of the University of Chicago it was

clear that the moon "has been a geologically active body with several episodes

of melting and lava flows." For the last two or three billion years, however, it

has been almost dead. Jastrow and others doubted that the moon was thrown

off from the earth or that it was formed elsewhere and captured later. Gene Sim190
First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

mons, newly appointed chief scientist at MSC, summed up the state of lunar

science at the end of the conference. "There is a large amount of undigested data

and very little interpretation," he said. "You'll see in the next six months many

revisions of statements as to what it all means.' '55

The Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team best characterized the significance

of the Tranquility samples:

The Apollo 11 samples were collected from a very tiny fraction of the moon's

surface. Nevertheless, they have given a vast new insight into the processes

that have shaped this surface and have established some significant limits on

the rates and mechanisms by which it evolved. The results reported do not

resolve the problem of the origin of the moon. However, the number of constraints that must be met by any theory have been greatly increased. For example, if the moon formed from the earth, it can now be stated with some

confidence that this separation took place prior to 4.3 x 10 9 [4.3 billion] years

ago. Furthermore, such a hypothesis must now take account of certain definite differences in chemical composition [between the moon and the

earth].... There is clear evidence ... that the surface of the moon is variable in both composition and age. It is therefore of great scientific importance to

obtain materials from a variety of terrains and sites [emphasis added].56

After the conference ended on January 8 the scientists returned to their labs to

continue probing the lunar samples, while NASA focused on sampling the variety of terrains and sites they deemed so important. The next mission, Apollo 13,

was already targeted for the Fra Mauro Formation '57 a geologic unit that covered

large portions of the lunar surface around Mare Imbrium. The landing site was

just north of the crater Fra Mauro, about 180 kilometers (112 miles) due east of

the spot where Pete Conrad had landed Intrepid.

MSC Increases Emphasis on Science in Apollo

Early in 1970 MSC set about to improve its relations with the lunar science community. As the first lunar science conference was meeting in Houston, Jim

McDivitt, manager of MSC's Apollo spacecraft program office, took note of scientists' frequent complaints that MSC was unable or unwilling to accommodate

changes in the experiment program. "I would like to take steps to change this

impression and to attempt to generate a 'can-do' attitude toward science changes

consistent with operational and other constraints," McDivitt said. He intended

to establish a schedule for each mission, "to provide information to the science

world which will discipline their inputs to our schedule needs," and to establish

an Experiments Review Group, which was to consider new or late experiments

for the missions to recommend MSC policy on experiment changes. McDivitt himself would chair the group, which included Anthony J. Calio, director of science

and applications, Deke Slayton, director of flight crew operations, and Richard

S. Johnston, former special assistant to the center director now assigned to

McDivitt's office.58

The first lunar science conference apparently brought the question of MSC's

handling of science to a head, for Director Robert R. Gilruth moved to change

191
Where No Man Has Gone Before

his center's antiscientific image at the same time. On February 5, 1970, he and

11 of MSC's highest-ranking managers met with 9 prominent scientists involved

in the Apollo program to discuss issues between the two groups.* Several specific

problems were discussed and resolved. One major flaw the scientists found in

the conduct of Apollo science involved contact between astronauts, principal

investigators, and operations planners. Since there was not time to make nonscientists astronauts over into scientists, the investigators insisted on giving

experimenters more time to discuss the objectives of the experiment with the

astronauts, thus improving the astronauts' understanding of what they could do

to enhance the results. Geologists had enjoyed an advantage in this respect, but

the experimenters pointed out that other disciplines were involved in lunar investigations and should get more attention in training. Another point involved communication between scientists on the ground and astronauts on the moon; this

ought to be made easier, the scientists said, so that surprises could be dealt with

when encountered and procedures altered in real time if necessary. When it was

pointed out that this would require the principal investigators to learn how to

use the existing systems to best advantage, including participation in simulations,

the scientists agreed to take on that responsibility.59

Finally, participants agreed to clarify relations between outside scientists and

MSC offices. In general experimenters should be more forthcoming with explanations of the scientific rationale for experiments and MSC should simplify and

expedite reviews of proposed experiments and changes in existing plans. A general

improvement in communication between MSC, the scientists, and Headquarters

was necessary.60

Associate Administrator Homer E. Newell, who attended the meeting, later

commented approvingly to Gilruth that "the entire discussion was in a constructive vein," and that "some very complimentary remarks were made ... about

MSC's current approach to handling science." As associate administrator for

science and applications, Newell had for years tried to mediate between the scientists and manned space flight officials, and he found the new attitudes gratifying

on both sides .61

MSC immediately followed up on the February meeting by establishing a

Science Working Panel to be the single forum in which science requirements and

operational restrictions would be reconciled and adjusted. The working panel

would be advised by principal investigators and scientists representing the entire

spectrum of science. A science mission manager and a mission scientist (usually

*MSC was represented by Gilruth; Deputy Director Christopher C. Kraft, Jr.; George Abbey, technical assistant to Gilruth; Anthony J. Calio, director of Science and Applications; M. Gene Simmons,

chief scientist; Donald K. Slayton, director of Flight Crew Operations; Thomas P. Stafford, chief of

the Astronaut Office; Harrison H. Schmitt, astronaut; John Zarcaro, chief of the Lunar Missions Office;

Ted H. Foss, Geology and Geochemistry Branch; Glynn S. Lunney, Flight Control Division; and

Richard S. Johnston, Apollo Spacecraft Program Office. Scientists attending—most of them principal

investigators on Apollo—were James R. Arnold, Univ. of California at San Diego; Paul W. Gast, Columbia Univ.; Marcus G. Langseth, Jr., Lamont-Doherty Geophysical Observatory; Frank Press, Mass.

Inst. of Technology; Robert Rex, Univ. of California at Riverside; Gordon A. Swann, U.S. Geological

Survey; Robert Walker, Washington Univ., St. Louis; and Gerald J. Wasserburg, Calif. Inst. of Technology. Homer E. Newell, NASA Associate Administrator, attended as an observer.

192
First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

a scientist-astronaut) would be assigned for each flight. 62 When scientists briefed

astronauts on the conduct of their experiments, a representative of MSC's Flight

Control Division would sit in as well, to ensure complete understanding all

around.63

The February meeting and its consequences were a considerable relief to scientists involved in Apollo. Newell later commented that "the experimenters' feeling of effectiveness increased steadily with each new Apollo mission until with

Apollo 17 ... the scientists were positively ecstatic."64

Personnel and Program Changes

The last months of 1969 brought changes in several key offices in NASA Headquarters and the centers. Thomas O. Paine, who had succeeded James Webb as

NASA administrator less than a year earlier, called George M. Low to Headquarters to become deputy administrator, the agency's second-ranking official.* After

guiding Apollo through its most difficult years and at long last establishing the

first post-Apollo project (Skylab), George Mueller announced his intent to resign

as Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight at the end of the year. The

Air Force reassigned Lt. Gen. Sam Phillips, longtime manager of the Apollo Program Office under Mueller, to command its Space and Missile Systems Organization. As Mueller's replacement Paine named Dale D. Myers, Apollo spacecraft

manager at North American Rockwell for many years; Phillips's place was filled

by Rocco A. Petrone, director of launch operations at Kennedy Space Center.

At Houston, Gilruth appointed Col. James A. McDivitt, command pilot on Gemini

IV and commander of Apollo 9, to head the Apollo spacecraft project office and

Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., MSC's director of flight operations, to be deputy center director. 65 MSC also had a new Director of Science and Applications, Anthony

J. Calio, who succeeded Wilmot Hess after Hess's resignation in the fall (see

Chapter 10).

New managers faced new problems in the year following Apollo 11's resounding success. Public enthusiasm for lunar missions waned when, with Apollo 12,

they began to seem routine. Funding prospects were also bleak. Lyndon Johnson's last budget submittal (in January 1969) requested $3.878 billion for NASA,66

nearly 25 percent lower than the budget for the peak year, fiscal 1965. When

Richard Nixon's first budget was submitted in April, that figure was reduced to

$3.833 billion. Paine put the best face he could on the situation; the reductions

would require "difficult program adjustments," but in the context of the administration's determination to reduce government spending, "the nation can continue a scientifically effective program of manned lunar exploration" and the

capability to produce Saturn V boosters would not lapse beyond recovery. 67 When

the space agency's appropriation bill was signed in November, it provided only

$3.697 billion, and the adjustments became even more difficult.68

*At the time Low, who took over as manager of MSC's Apollo spacecraft project office after the

AS-204 fire in April 1967, was serving as special assistant to MSC Director Robert R. Gilruth.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Besides being economy minded, the new administration was in no hurry to

establish a position on space. Early in 1969 the new President appointed a Space

Task Group* to study the space program, calling for a report in six months on

alternatives for the post-Apollo period. Predictably, the group's report, submitted on September 15, recommended a balanced program of manned and

unmanned space activity. Its most radical suggestion was that NASA should adopt

a new long-range goal, comparable to the Apollo goal that had sustained space

exploration for eight years, to provide the impetus for new developments. For

that goal they suggested manned exploration of the planets, specifically a manned

landing on Mars by the end of the 20th century. Three options were proposed:

an all-out effort, including a 50-man earth-orbiting space station and a lunar base,

culminating with the Mars landing in the mid-1980s; a less ambitious program

providing for evaluation of an unmanned Mars landing before setting a date for

the manned mission; and a minimum program that would develop a space station and a shuttle vehicle but would defer the Mars landing to some unspecified

time before the end of the century. Costs were estimated at between $8 billion

and $10 billion per year by 1980 for the most ambitious option and from $4 billion

to $5.7 billion annually by 1976 for the least.69

Nixon's reaction to the Space Task Group report was not immediately forthcoming. His press secretary declined to predict when the President would make

a decision, but said that competing domestic programs and the constraints

imposed by inflation would certainly have to be considered in funding any new

space ventures.70

Public reaction to the proposal of a manned flight to Mars was generally negative.

The Washington Post suggested that such a trip should be weighed carefully in

terms of its potential scientific value: "It is knowledge we seek, not spectaculars.... 1171 A point of view shared by many scientists was expressed at the annual

meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science (AAAS)

in December by Gordon J. F. MacDonald, who characterized it as "the utmost

folly." Retiring AAAS president Walter Orr Roberts said that the United States

should not set a goal of sending men to Mars "now or ever." 72 Even congressional supporters of manned space flight found the proposal unacceptable. The

chairman of the House Science and Astronautics Committee told the House that

he was unwilling to commit the nation to any specific timetable for sending men

to Mars, and the chairman of the Manned Space Flight subcommittee likewise

shied away from an endorsement.73

Perhaps the thumbs-down reaction to a Mars flight was to be expected, given

the projected cost of such a program, which the Space Task Group estimated

at $54.1 billion to $78.2 billion during the 1970-1980 decade. Somewhat surprising was that even Apollo, hitherto all but inviolable, was not to escape the effects

of NASA's straitening circumstances. On January 4, 1970, following dedication

of the Lunar Science Institute at Houston, deputy administrator George Low

'Chaired by Vice-President Spiro T. Agnew, the group included Robert C. Seamans, Secretary of

the Air Force and former deputy administrator of NASA; Thomas O. Paine, NASA Administrator;

and Lee A. Dubridge, Science Adviser to the President. Observers were U. Alexis Johnson, Undersecretary of State for Political Affairs; Glenn T. Seaborg, chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission; and Robert P. Mayo, director of the Bureau of the Budget.

194
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First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

James Lovell, Apollo 13 commander, practices moonwalking in a device that offsets 51e of his weight.

195 ORIGINAL PAGE

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

announced that Apollo 20 had been canceled and the schedule for the seven

remaining flights would be stretched out into 1974. Four would be flown in

1970-1971 at intervals depending on the choice of sites. Lunar exploration would

then be interrupted while the three-mission Apollo Applications Program (a

rudimentary space station in earth orbit, soon to be renamed "Skylab") was conducted. The last three missions to the moon would be flown in 1973 and 1974.

Low denied reports that NASA planned to cancel four Apollo flights, saying that

such action would "do away with most of our scientific return and waste the

investment we have made." Lunar scientists were reported to have been pleased

by Low's announcement; 74 they had evidently feared that even more missions

would be deleted.

Ten days later, after preliminary discussions on the fiscal 1971 budget, administrator Thomas O. Paine revealed more changes in space exploration. Saturn V

launch vehicle production was to be suspended indefinitely after the fifteenth

booster was completed, leaving NASA with no means of putting really large payloads into earth orbit or continuing lunar exploration. The last Saturn V was reassigned from Apollo 20 to Skylab. Unmanned explorations of Mercury and Mars

were reduced or deferred. Some 50,000 of the estimated 190,000 employees of

NASA and its contractors would have to be laid off, and many university scientists would find their projects without funds. Though the new plans imposed

real austerity, Paine noted that they did provide for a start on the next project,

development of a reusable spacecraft to shuttle crews and payloads between earth

and a space station in earth orbit.75

Apollo still had supporters in Congress, however, and they tried their best to

add $130.5 million to the administration's budget for lunar exploration in fiscal

1971. But the Senate would not go along, and after a vigorous debate, the conference committee reported an authorization bill containing an increase of only $38

million for Apollo .76 After the first two lunar landings, Congress and the nation

were ready to get on to other things—but nothing so expensive as a flight to Mars.

A congressional historian who served on the House space committee described

the dawn of the 1970s as "the worst of times for the space program," and then

summarized the budget debates:

By hindsight, it seems unlikely that even the strongest and most adept mobilization of the supporters of more manned flights to the Moon could have successfully overcome the adverse feeling in the country in the early 1970's.

Congress and the Nation could be persuaded to support Skylab, the Space

Shuttle, and a modest level of activity by NASA in many other areas.

But ... Von Braun's dream of a manned flight to Mars was not in the cards

for the 20th century, at least .77

Mission to Fra Mauro

Whether any Americans were going to Mars in this century or not, the crew

of Apollo 13—Jim Lovell, Ken Mattingly, and Fred Haise—were going to the moon,

and they were too busy preparing for that mission to worry about anything more

196
qfAd •'^--

r

L

First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

T

Apollo 13 astronauts James Lovell (left) and Fred Haise in training at Kennedy Space Center. This

photo gives an excellent view of the lunar module hatch (square opening above the ladder), through

which the suited astronauts had to crawl backwards, and the height of the ladder above the lunar

surface—which prompted Pete Conrad to remark on Apollo 12, "that may have been a small [step] for

Neil, but it was a big one for me. "

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197 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Where No Man Has Gone Before

spectacular. Their Saturn V was trundled out to launch complex 39A on December 15, 1969, anticipating launch on March 12, 1970. 78 On January 8, however,

Headquarters announced that Apollo 13 had been rescheduled for April 11 to

allow more detailed analysis of specific plans.79

The target for Apollo 13 was a spot some 180 kilometers (112 miles) east of Apollo

12's landing site, just north of the crater Fra Mauro. The mission's primary task

was to sample the geologic unit called the Fra Mauro Formation, which covers

a large area around the Imbrium basin. The Fra Mauro Formation was generally

believed to consist of material ejected when Imbrium, one of the largest impact

basins on the moon, was formed. Scientists hoped that samples would allow them

to date the "Imbrian event," which would establish the time relationships of

related and adjacent features. Finally, they expected that the Fra Mauro site would

provide samples that came from deep within the moon, excavated by the Imbrian

event .81 The mission would also emplace a second set of lunar surface instruments, differing from those flown on Apollo 12; a heat-flow experiment and a

charged-particle environment detector were substituted for the solar wind spectrometer, the magnetometer, and the suprathermal ion detector. A second calibration of the lunar seismometers was to be accomplished by crashing the Saturn

V's third stage at a preselected location on the moon.S1

Preparations for the launch proceeded without major problems through February and March. Three days before launch, Jack Swigert took Ken Mattingly's place

as command module pilot, after the prime crew had been exposed to German

Apollo 13's only contribution to lunar science: a seismometer in Mission Control recorded these

tracings after the Saturn S-lVB stage struck the moon.

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First Phase of Lunar Exploration Completed: 1969-1970

measles and Mattingly was found to have no immunity. Apollo 13 lifted off on

schedule at 2:13 p.m. Eastern Standard Time on April 11, and for two days operations were routine; Capcom remarked at one point that flight controllers were

bored to tears. A few hours later, however, an oxygen tank in the service module ruptured, depriving the spacecraft of most of its electrical power and oxygen,

and the mission had to be aborted. Only a heroic effort of real-time improvisation by mission operations teams saved the crew.82

Almost lost in the drama of the mission was the one piece of scientific information that Apollo 13 was able to provide. Shortly after command module pilot Jack

Swigert had extracted the lunar module from atop the S-IVB stage, ground controllers fired the auxiliary propulsion system on the big rocket, putting it on a

course to crash into the moon. Three days later the 30,700-pound (13,925 kilogram) hulk struck the lunar surface at 5,600 miles per hour (2.5 kilometers per

second) some 74 miles (119 kilometers) west-northwest of the Apollo 12 landing

site, releasing energy estimated as equivalent to the explosion of 7.7 tons (7,000

kilograms) of TNT. Half a minute later the passive seismometer left by Apollo

12 recorded the onset of vibrations that persisted for more than four hours.

Another instrument, the lunar ionosphere detector, sensed a gas cloud that arrived

a few seconds before the seismic signal and lasted for more than a minute. Seismologists were baffled by the moon's response to shock, but welcomed the new

means of generating data .83

In the year that it took to discover and correct the cause of the Apollo 13 failure, the scope of the remaining missions was altered. Apollo 14 would visit the

site intended for exploration by Apollo 13, but it would go there as the last of

the intermediate exploration missions. The flights that remained would stretch

the capabilities of the Apollo systems virtually to their limits, providing longer

visits to the lunar surface and increased mobility for the astronauts. Unfortunately

for lunar science, two missions were to be cut from an already minimal program.

199
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APOLLO ASSUMES ITS FINAL FORM:

1970-1971

As budgets tightened and public support for lunar missions faltered in 1970,

NASA managers faced tough choices. On the one hand, the successful Apollo

exploration missions had given lunar scientists an appetite for more and more

samples—more, in fact, than even the six missions remaining on the schedule

were likely to provide. Against that stood the need to get moving on post-Apollo

programs, the first of which (Skylab) had reached a stage where it required substantial funds to stay on schedule. Given the unpalatable alternatives, NASA chose

to cut back on lunar exploration and apply the savings to its future.'

Cutbacks and Program Changes

In February 1970 NASA took to Congress a budget proposal for fiscal 1971 for

$3.333 billion, down more than $500 million from the previous fiscal year. Administrator Thomas Paine listed for the House Committee on Science and Astronautics the "hard choices" he had been forced to make to stay within that budget

while still making progress: suspending production of Saturn V launch vehicles

and spacecraft assigned to those vehicles, "mothballing" the Mississippi Test Facility and reducing the work force at the Michoud Assembly Facility where Saturn

Vs were assembled, closing the new Electronics Research Center at Cambridge,

Massachusetts, and canceling Apollo 20. 2 During the following summer it

appeared that Congress was in a mood to cut space funding even more. By July

rumors were circulating that more Apollo missions, perhaps as many as four,

were candidates for cancellation.' The first bill containing NASA's appropriation

(vetoed in August by President Nixon, who objected to the funds provided for

another agency) gave the space agency $3.269 billion—a figure that came out of

weeks of debate in House and Senate and conference committee and was clearly

all the space agency could expect.4

On July 28, while Congress debated the funding issue, Tom Paine submitted

his resignation as NASA administrator, effective September 15, to President

Nixon. He planned to return to General Electric, the company he had left in early

1968 to become deputy administrator. Paine denied that NASA's immediate funding problems had influenced his decision. 5 Probably more decisive was the fact

that he saw no prospect of immediate change. From the start of his tenure as

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

administrator, Paine's ideas for the future of the space program were far more

ambitious than those of the President and the Bureau of the Budget.

On September 2 Paine called a press conference to announce NASA's interim

operating plan for fiscal 1971. Cutbacks and stretchouts in most major programs

were the order of the day, among them the cancellation of two more Apollo missions, 15 and 19. The remaining missions, redesignated Apollo 14-17,* would

be flown at six-month intervals in 1971 and 1972. After that would come the three

manned Skylab missions (which under earlier schedules had interrupted the

Apollo program for two years). Paine noted that he and his managers had made

this decision reluctantly and in spite of the conclusions of special reviews by the

Space Science Board of the National Academy of Sciences and the Lunar and

Planetary Missions Board, both of which had strongly recommended that all six

remaining missions be flown. Paine's main consideration had been "how best

to carry out Apollo to realize maximum benefits while preserving adequate

resources for the future post-Apollo space program. "6 For whatever consolation

scientists might get from it, one of the canceled missions (Apollo 15) was the last

of the limited exploration missions the three remaining after the cut would all

have considerably extended capability, including a surface roving vehicle. Left

unanswered was the question of what was to be done with the three Saturn V

boosters that no longer had missions to fly.'

Criticism of the decision to shorten Apollo was immediately forthcoming. A

New York Times editorialist called the decision "penny-wise, pound-foolish," noting that the savings would amount to less than 2 percent of NASA's fiscal 1971

budget and less than 0.25 percent of the total investment in Apollo. "The budgetary myopia which forced this ... decision can only vindicate the critics who have

insisted that Apollo was motivated by purely prestige considerations, not scientific goals," said the Times writer. While the Times had for years opposed Apollo's

high priority, "now that these huge sums have been spent the need is to obtain

the maximum yield, scientifically and otherwise, from that investment."

This argument was typical of the reaction voiced by many after the cutback.

Particularly upset were lunar scientists. Astronomer Thomas Gold of Cornell

University likened the decision to "buying a Rolls Royce and then not using it

because you claim you can't afford the gas." The grand old man of lunar science,

Harold Urey, said the $40 million saved on operational costs was "chicken feed"

compared to the $25 billion already spent. 9 To the Washington Post he wrote,

It cost us ... one half of one per cent of our gross production.... Now we

wish to finish a job which has been beautifully begun. And we get stingy.

Because of an additional cost of about 25 cents per year for each of us we drop

two flights to the moon recommended by scientific committees composed of

men who personally profit from the expenditure little or not at all. How foolish and short-sighted from the view of history can we be ?10

Gerald Wasserburg, a highly respected Caltech geochemist and member of the

lunar sample preliminary examination team, protested in the Los Angeles Times,

"At the time, Apollo 14 had not yet flown. New mission numbers were 15, 16, and 17, with science

plans corresponding approximately to those of the old 16, 17, and 18.

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Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

... this decision threatens our existing investment in planetary exploration

during a period when we are obtaining maximum returns and makes doubtful the scientific justification of the manned space program. The total effect

appears to indicate a return to the dark ages of planetary science .... 11

None of the protesters, however, could offer a reasonable alternative to the cutbacks. The New York Times editorial writer suggested that NASA seek participation, including financial contribution, by the Soviet Union or our European allies

in long-term lunar exploration—surely an unrealistic suggestion at best.

These complaints, well founded though they were, were far too late. By

mid-1970 NASA was operating on its lowest budget since fiscal 1965, under an

administration determined to reduce the federal deficit, while trying to get started

on a new generation of spacecraft and programs toward which administration

budget officers were less than enthusiastically committed. Complicating the problem of living within a restricted budget, NASA's record in holding program costs

to preprogram estimates was not good, a fact often brought up in congressional

budget hearings. (That had very nearly cost the agency the Mars landing project,

Viking, at the end of 1969. 12 ) Public and congressional support for purely scientific missions, no matter how spectacular or important, had begun to erode before

Apollo 11. Whatever the fact may say about the nation's commitment to the space

program, NASA now lived or died by the perceptions of Congress and the

administration of the short-term value of its projects. Political pressure on the

space program was shifting in the direction of using space to solve earth's problems. 13

In mid-September 1970, 39 scientists who had long been associated with Apollo's

science program formally protested the cutbacks in a letter to the chairman of

the House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Representative George P.

Miller. They pointed out that the reduction in the number of missions might cause

the lunar science program to "fail in its chief purpose of reaching a new level

of understanding" of the origin of the earth and moon. As best they could tell,

the money saved in the "approved and scientifically most fruitful lunar program"

was intended to support a post-Skylab manned earth-orbital project—"an as yet

unapproved program for whose scientific value there is no consensus, and whose

purpose is unclear" (i.e., the space shuttle). They concluded by expressing the

hope that the decision to cancel two Apollo missions was not yet final.14

In reply, Miller called the scientists' attention to his committee's long record

of support for Apollo, pointing out that the committee had tried to get $220 million more for lunar exploration into the authorization bills for fiscal 1970 and 1971.

"However, the [Nixon] Administration, in realigning national priorities, has

relegated the space program to a lesser role." Undoubtedly the two canceled

flights would have provided additional scientific information, Miller said, but that

had to be balanced against assuring the rational development of future space programs. In conclusion he mildly reproved the scientists: "Had your views on the

Apollo program been as forcefully expressed to NASA and the Congress a year

or more ago, this situation might have been prevented." But it was too late to

offer any serious hope of reinstating the two missions.15

As the launch date for the next flight approached, lunar scientists faced hard

choices. Plans for Apollo 14 had reached the stage where no major changes were

possible. With three missions remaining instead of five, landing sites had to be

203
w

r`

I . 1 - __ :14 1

f1

w

Where No Man Has Gone Before

chosen to give the best hope of answering the most important scientific questions. Experimenters and flight planners had to make the best possible use of

the extra payloads that the last three missions would be able to land on the moon.

To Fra Mauro, At Last

The loss of the scientific information Apollo 13 would have returned from Fra

Mauro made it necessary to reevaluate objectives for later missions. At its meeting in early March the Apollo site selection board had recommended Littrow (Figure 4, site 21) as the target for Apollo 14. 16 After Apollo 13 the board's scientific

advisers almost unanimously agreed that the Fra Mauro site still rated the high

priority it had been given; they recommended sending Apollo 14 there instead

of Littrow, and the board agreed.17 Since a number of changes in the service module were expected as a result of the Apollo 13 investigation, Apollo 14 was rescheduled for the third time in six months. Launch readiness was targeted for no earlier

that January 31, 1971.18

In the nine months between the third and fourth lunar exploration missions,

the last of the year's budget shocks hit the Apollo program. With the loss of Apollo

Apollo 14 commander Alan Shepard practices towing the mobile equipment transporter while the

KC-135 airplane flies a parabolic path that reduces gravity to the level experienced on the moon. Lunar

module pilot Ed Mitchell follows the "rickshaw."

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204 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
I

Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

15 and 19, Apollo 14 became the last of the intermediate ("H"-type) missions.

Its basic objectives were the same as those of Apollo 13, but several changes were

made in details.

Apollo 13 had carried a surface science package consisting of a passive seismometer, an atmospheric detector and a charged-particle detector, and a heat

flow instrument. Apollo 14's package left off the heat-flow experiment and added

three more: an active seismic experiment, a laser reflector like the one carried

on Apollo 11, and an ionosphere detector like the one carried on Apollo 12. The

active seismic experiment consisted of a set of detectors (geophones) to be laid

out on the surface and two devices for producing calibrated shocks. It would aid

The central processing station for the lunar surface experiments package on Apollo 14. The object

behind and to the left of the station is one component of the active seismic experiment, a mortar which

was intended to lob four explosive charges whose shocks would be recorded on the seismometer.

However, it was placed so close to the central station that experimenters feared that firing it would

cover the central station with dust, so the experiment was not performed.

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205 BLACK AND V7HITE 

PHOTOGRAPH
Where No Man Has Gone Before

in the interpretation of seismic data by giving seismologists a measure of the velocity of seismic waves in the near-surface layer of the moon.19

After earlier crews reported problems in carrying all the gear required for sampling on the moon, MSC's Technical Services Division designed and built a twowheeled modular equipment transporter for the Apollo 14 mission. The rubbertired "rickshaw," as it was nicknamed—actually it more resembled a golf cart—

weighed only 18 pounds (8.2 kilograms) but could carry a 360-pound

(163-kilogram) load; either astronaut could pull it with one hand. Providing storage space for core tubes, sample bags, cameras, maps, and hand tools, it folded

up for storage on the lunar module at launch, alongside the experiment packages.20

Significant changes were made in pre- and postflight medical operations on

Apollo 14. A prelaunch flight crew health stabilization program was established

by medical officials to prevent the crew's exposure to communicable disease,

which had caused problems on Apollo 7, 8, 9, and 13. For three weeks before

launch, prime and backup crewmen were isolated from close contact with everyone except their families and ground-support personnel whose duties required

them to work closely with the astronauts. All these "primary contacts" were examined, tested for immunity to common diseases, and kept under medical surveillance. Crewmen were restricted to specified areas at the Cape and the

air-conditioning system in their quarters was fitted with biological filters to minimize exposure to airborne disease organisms. 21 Postmission quarantine arrangements were also modified to shorten the return to the lunar receiving laboratory.

Since the recovery zone was some 600 miles (965 kilometers) from the U.S. air

base in Samoa, plans called for the crew to be transferred by helicopter from the

mobile quarantine facility aboard the recovery ship to Samoa. There they would

enter a second isolation trailer, which would be flown to Houston.22

After the Apollo 13 accident, preparations for the next flight were delayed while

the service module oxygen tanks were modified and tested. Meanwhile, several

other minor changes to spacecraft and launch vehicle were made at the Cape.23

The new tanks—including a third, isolated from the other two, which would assure

that the command module had enough oxygen to supply the crew—were installed

and tested by January 18, and no further problems showed up as launch date

approached.24

Launch day, January 31, was cloudy and rainy; eight minutes before the scheduled liftoff, the launch director stopped the countdown to wait for the heaviest

clouds to move across the Cape. Forty minutes later Apollo 14 was on its way.21

The trip to the moon was uneventful until the time came to remove the lunar

module from the S-IVB stage. Five attempts to dock the command module with

the lunar module failed for no apparent reason—a worrisome anomaly, to say

the least—but the sixth was successful. 26 The spent S-IVB stage was then put on

a course to crash on the moon some 100 miles southwest of the Apollo 12 landing site. 27 Command module Kitty Hawk and lunar module Antares braked into

lunar orbit 82 hours after liftoff. Two hours later Kitty Hawk's main engine lowered

both spacecraft to the altitude from which Antares would begin its descent .28 This

maneuver was one result of the refinement of mission techniques that planners

had been working on since Apollo 12, designed to conserve fuel in the lunar module and give the crew more time to hover before landing if they needed to look

for a suitable site.

206
0RIG[N;;f FA Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

BLACK AND P ,0TC1 RAPq

Commander Alan Shepard walks toward the mobile equipment transporter (on which the camera was

mounted) while Ed Mitchell lays out the Apollo 14 lunar surface experiments. Note the checklist

attached to Shepard's left cuff.

After mission commander Alan Shepard and lunar module pilot Edgar Mitchell had checked out Antares, command module pilot Stuart Roosa pulled Kitty

Hawk away and Antares began its descent to the surface. Last-minute course corrections sent up from Houston were entered in the guidance computer and

Shepard piloted the spacecraft to a routine landing about 350 miles (563 kilometers)

west-southwest of the center of the moon's visible side. Antares was only 175 feet

(53 meters) from its targeted landing site .29 Meanwhile Roosa had boosted Kitty

Hawk back up into a higher, circular orbit, where he had a number of tasks to

perform while his colleagues explored the Fra Mauro Formation.

The terrain on which Antares sat was gently undulating, with numerous craters

but comparatively few boulders. Mitchell commented that there was "more relief

[i.e., variations in elevation] than we anticipated from looking at the map s, "30

a characteristic that would cause them some difficulty later on. Having given Houston a description of what they could see, Shepard and Mitchell put on their space

suits and prepared for their first excursion.

Shepard's first words as he stepped on to the moon were inspired by his 9 years,

10 months, and 10 days of waiting from Mercury-Redstone 3, when he had been

the first American in space, to the day he stepped on the moon.* "It's been a

*Shepard was the only one of the "Original Seven" astronauts to make that journey, only the second to fly in the Apollo program.

207
Where No Man Has Gone Before

WS-7

The lunar module Antares on the surface of the moon. The crewman to the right of the LM cannot be

identified. Note the rolling terrain, which often obscured landmarks and caused the Apollo 14

astronauts considerable difficulty in finding their way.

long way," he said, "but we're here." 31 Mitchell joined Shepard on the lunar

surface and they unloaded the rickshaw and experiments and picked a spot some

500 feet (150 meters) west of Antares for the instruments. After laying out the

geophones for the active seismic experiment, Mitchell fired the explosive charges

in his hand-held "thumper" as they walked back to the lunar module. On the

way Shepard stopped to collect a comprehensive sample of rocks and fine surface material from a representative area, found two "football-sized" rocks, and

collected some other surface samples. After more than four and a half hours they

were back in the lunar module. Houston then had half an hour's worth of questions from the scientists in the back room, and then it was time to turn in.32

Shepard and Mitchell did most of the mission's geological field work on their

second traverse. Their biggest problem was in determining their location from

the landmarks shown on their map. More than once they changed their minds

about where they were. At the time and later, they attributed this to the rolling

terrain and the relation of their line of sight to the sun: craters might be visible

in one direction but not in another. Without familiar objects for reference, they

found it difficult to estimate distances. A prime objective was to sample the rim

of "Cone" crater, about a thousand meters (3,300 feet) from the spacecraft. By

the time they got there, however, they had spent considerable time and were

not positive that they were in the right place. As it turned out, they stopped just

a few meters short of the rim, but at the time they were not certain they were

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208 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

on the slope of Cone, and Shepard was concerned with the tasks they had yet

to accomplish and the time available. 33 They turned back, completed the planned

traverse, and returned to Antares after another 4 1/2-hour excursion. They had collected nearly a hundred pounds (45 kilograms) of samples and taken hundreds

of photographs documenting many of the rocks, boulders, and sampling sites,

including several panoramic views of the landing site. 34 Before climbing back into

the lunar module, Shepard took out of his suit pocket "a little white pellet that's

familiar to millions of Americans--a golf ball—and dropped it on the surface.

Then, using the handle for the contingency sample return container, to which

was attached "a genuine six-iron," he took a couple of one-handed swings. He

missed with the first, but connected with the second. The ball, he reported, sailed

for "miles and miles. "35

During the 331/2 hours Shepard and Mitchell were on the moon, Stuart Roosa

had several important tasks to perform in Kitty Hawk. Continuing what had begun

on Apollo 12, he photographed one of the remaining candidate landing areas (Descartes) and made numerous observations of prominent lunar landmarks to provide data that would improve landing accuracy on subsequent missions.36

Back in Antares, Shepard and Mitchell stowed their samples and discarded their

expendable equipment. Houston then passed up questions for half an hour concerning details of their visual observations, which brought out some of the difficulties they had experienced on the traverse. Geological features had been subtle,

occasionally they had had too little time to observe and comment on details, and

the rolling terrain had sometimes blocked their view of features only a few meters

away.37

Liftoff from the moon came at 1:48 p.m. EST on February 6. Mission planners

had worked out a "direct" rendezvous scheme—that is, the ascent trajectory was

programmed to meet the command module at its highest point, with necessary

corrections being made during ascent—which they used for the first time. (On

previous missions several maneuvers had been necessary to adjust the LM's orbit

before bringing the spacecraft together.) Two and a half hours after liftoff, Antares

and Kitty Hawk docked; three hours later, having sent the lunar module crashing

to the lunar surface, Kitty Hawk headed home.38

Along the way the crew performed some "inflight demonstrations"—

experiments exploring some zero-g techniques that might offer useful application of technology in space: electrophoresis (the migration of charged molecules

in solution under the influence of an applied voltage), transfer of liquids between

two containers, heat transfer, and casting of various materials from the molten

state. 39 Results were promising enough to warrant further investigation on Skylab

and, later, on space shuttle missions. After finishing those demonstrations,

Shepard, Mitchell, and Roosa had little to do for the rest of the mission. Kitty

Hawk made a normal reentry and landed 0.6 miles (965 meters) from its targeted

point in the South Pacific near the aircraft carrier U.S. S. New Orleans in the early

morning light of February 9. Three days later the astronauts in their quarantine

trailer arrived at the lunar receiving laboratory at MSC, where they spent 15 days

in quarantine.41

Apollo 14 successfully concluded the intermediate stage of lunar exploration,

closing a period in which the progress made in mission planning and operations

exceeded expectations. Armstrong had overshot his target by five miles (eight

209
Where No Man Has Gone Before

^p

A scientist views an Apollo 14 lunar sample through a binocular microscope in the Lunar Receiving

Laboratory at the Manned Spacecraft Center.

kilometers). Conrad and Shepard, aided by improved techniques, had landed

within a quarter of a mile of theirs (400 meters) —an accuracy that MSC's mission planners had expected to achieve after three or four tries, but scarcely hoped

for on the second. Eagle had stayed on the moon for 21 1/2 hours, Intrepid for 311/2,

210 ORIGINAL PIGC %

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
ORK7,1N? LPACT Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

BLACK AND W H'- T E PHOTOGRAP4

Technicians examine Apollo 14 samples in the sterile nitrogen atmosphere of a processing cabinet

in MSC's lunar receiving laboratory. The cabinet is at atmospheric pressure. Earlier processing in

vacuum had to be abandoned, in part because the gloves through which technicians handled the samples could not stand up to the large pressure differential between the cabinet and the outside.

Antares for 33 1/2. Armstrong and Aldrin's 2'/2 hours on the surface was more than

doubled by Conrad and Bean and extended nearly ninefold by Shepard and Mitchell. Apollo 12 brought back 50 percent more lunar material than Apollo 11, and

Apollo 14 returned 25 percent more than that. About the only remaining improvements to lunar exploration would come from the addition of extra supplies and

a powered vehicle to save time in exploring the lunar surface.

Changes for Extended Lunar Missions

In the first half of 1969 the Office of Manned Space Flight (OMSF) had anticipated the requirements of the extended ( "J") missions, Apollo 16-20, by ordering studies on modification of the lunar module and development of a powered

211
r^

V4

• I

Where No Man Has Gone Before

lunar-surface vehicle (see Chapter 10). After studies by the lunar module contractor, Grumman Aircraft Engineering Company, were reviewed by OMSF's

Management Council, MSC authorized Grumman on June 9 to proceed with

modifications on LM-10 and subsequent spacecraft. Changes to the landing module would allow it to carry additional payload (the lunar roving vehicle) to the

lunar surface, return more lunar samples to earth, and provide consumables (oxy-

\.^

i.7►.i ^1A'

Apollo 14 explorers Ed Mitchell (left center) and Alan Shepard (right center) examine and comment on

some of the samples they collected. The specimen in front of Shepard was, at the time, the largest rock

brought back from the moon.

ORIGINP,L PAGE

212 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
ORIGINAL ?AGE

BLACK AND WH(T E PHOTOGRAPHApollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

gen, water, and electrical power) to support the crew on the moon for periods

up to 78 hours. The first "extended" lunar module was to be delivered in time

for launch in April 1971. 41 Major changes included enlargement of the fuel and

oxidizer tanks on both ascent and descent stages, extension of the descent engine

nozzle to improve its efficiency, addition of batteries and solar cells to recharge

them, and rearrangement of stowage space. 42 At a critical design review in midSeptember, MSC cut out some of the changes to minimize cost increases, discarding the solar cells and reducing the maximum duration of stays on the moon

to 54 hours. The extended LM would weigh 36,000 pounds (16,330 kilograms),

compared to 32,000 (14,515 kilograms) for earlier versions.43

A large part of this extra payload was the lunar roving vehicle, which would

extend the astronauts' range on the moon. In May 1969 a surface-traversing vehicle

was chosen rather than a flying unit as the most suitable means of carrying the

astronauts and their tools to sites of scientific interest, and Marshall Space Flight

Center was assigned responsibility for its development. 44 That fall, the Boeing

Company won the contract to develop the lunar roving vehicle (LRV or "rover").

The rover was to be a battery-powered vehicle weighing 400 pounds (181 kilograms), capable of carrying a 970-pound (440-kilogram) load as far as 120 kilometers (75 miles). 45 Boeing's facility in Huntsville, Alabama, was to build the chassis and assemble the complete vehicle from components manufactured by Boeing

in its Seattle plant and by AC-Delco Electronics. Development time was short:

the schedule called for delivery of the first of four vehicles by April 1, 1971, for

flight on Apollo 17, then scheduled for the following September .46

- J

The Apollo 16 crew training on the lunar rover.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

The weight increases necessary to extend the lunar missions forced a number

of changes in the launch vehicle as well. Rocket engineers, whose experience had

made them familiar with the tendency of payloads to grow, usually built their

engines to a somewhat higher capacity than the design requirement, so that they

could increase the thrust by making relatively minor changes. So it was with the

Saturn V. 47 In August 1969 MSC flight planners and Marshall engineers began

discussing means of enabling the Saturn V to launch 106,500 pounds (48,310 kg).48

The F-1 engines on its first stage could be readjusted to a higher thrust level after

acceptance firing. Timers could be reset to reduce the amount of unburned propellant left in the tanks at engine cutoff. These changes, plus modifications to the

S-II second stage, would raise the payload by more than 700 kilograms (1,540

pounds). An equally significant change was reduction of the fuel reserves provided

to make up for unpredictable variations in launch conditions and engine performance. Seven manned launches had given engineers enough performance data

to indicate that these reserves could be reduced without affecting crew safety,

adding another 700 kilograms of payload capacity.49

Changes in some launch constraints could increase the launch capability of the

Saturn V as well. For example, lowering the earth orbit into which the spacecraft

and S-NB were initially injected (the parking orbit) by 10 nautical miles (11.5 statute miles, 18.5 kilometers) could allow another 300 kilograms (660 pounds) to

be added to the spacecraft, at the cost of some slight additional heating of the

spacecraft and a loss of some radar-tracking data. Finally, some 200 kilograms

(440 pounds) of payload could be added by optimizing the azimuth on which

the Saturn V was launched. 50 After some months of analysis and discussion,

several of these changes were made in preparation for Apollo 15, enabling the

Saturn V to launch 107,000 pounds (48,535 kilograms).51

Landing Sites for the Last Missions

In July 1969 the Apollo Site Selection Board had compiled a list of 10 landing

sites for Apollo 11-20, subject to further evaluation and revision in light of the

results of early landings (see Chapter 10 and Table 2). In August and September,

responding to a request from Headquarters and MSC program managers for

detailed science mission plans, members of the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning and its Site Selection Subgroup, working with MSC operations planners

and U.S. Geological Survey scientists, suggested some minor changes, based on

a reevaluation of geologic features at one of the sites and the expected availability of good photography at another. These were endorsed by the Group for Lunar

Exploration Planning on August 23.52

At the end of September, however, while many other complaints were being

registered concerning Apollo (see Chapter 10), some members of the Science and

Technology Advisory Panel and the lunar panel of the Lunar and Planetary Missions Board objected that their opinions were not receiving sufficient consideration in site selection. Harold Urey complained that he did not know who was

making decisions regarding landing sites, nor what the reasons for choosing the

214
Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

Table 2. Lunar landing site assignments.*

Mission Site Mission Site

G-1 Site 2 (Tranquility) J-1 Copernicus peaks

H-1 Site 5 or 4 (Oceanus J-2 Marius Hills

Procellarum)

H-2 Fra Mauro J-3 Tycho

H-3 Rima Bode II J-4 Rima Prinz I

H-4 Censorinus J-5 Descartes

*Recommended by the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning; minutes of Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting,

July 10, 1969.

various sites were: the correspondence he received was unintelligible, full of unexplained acronyms and couched in unreadable bureaucratic jargon. He could not

take the time to attend meetings of the site selection subgroup to argue his case,

however, because of academic commitments. 53 Another meeting was held in midOctober in the hope of considering the advice of the objectors, but they were

unable to attend. Gene Simmons, MSC's chief scientist, was annoyed and disappointed. He wrote to the chairman of the Science and Technology Advisory

Committee,

To those of us who have been intimately involved with the scientific recommendations on Apollo sites for some time, it was particularly disappointing

that only one of these "senior scientists" showed up in time for the meeting.... The entire decisionmaking process of NASA on the landing sites for

the H and J series missions was postponed in order for these individuals to

meet with us and provide the kind of counsel that only they, presumably, could

give.... [Nonetheless,] we as a group felt that we should proceed with the

reexamination of the proposed landing sites.54

The meeting went on without the objecting members, thoroughly reviewing

the sites and the scientific rationale and operational restrictions for each. After

two days of intensive review, the group endorsed the proposed list of sites without alteration (see Table 3).11

The Site Selection Board, meeting at the end of October, discussed this list in

light of the improvements (lunar roving vehicle and added payload) expected

for the J missions. Marius Hills, Descartes, and Hadley appeared to present no

problems of accessibility, but Copernicus and Tycho were only marginally acceptable. Marius Hills was accessible only during two summer months. Descartes,

Hadley-Apennine, Davy Rille, and Censorinus were not adequately covered by

available site photographs. MSC was prepared to accept the available photographic

coverage for Fra Mauro, Littrow, Marius Hills, Copernicus, and Hyginus, but

planners would have to sacrifice some fidelity in terrain models for training. Tycho

was discussed at some length. It was the most difficult site on the list to reach,

but in many ways was scientifically attractive. Finally the board relegated Tycho

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Table 3. Landing Sites and Alternates.*

Prime Alternate Alternate Alternate

Mission Site 1 2 3

H-2 (13) Fra Mauro Alphonsus** Alphonsus** Fra Mauro**

H-3 (14) Littrow Littrow Littrow Littrow

H-4 (15) Censorinus Fra Mauro Fra Mauro Censorinus

J-1 (16) Descartes Censorinus Censorinus Descartes

J-2 (17) Marius Hills Marius Hills Marius Hills Marius Hills

J-3 (18) Copernicus Copernicus Davy Rille Davy Rille

J-4 (19) Hadley Hadley Hadley Rille Hadley Rille

J-5 (20) Tycho Tycho Copernicus Copernicus

*Recommended by the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning, October 16-17, 1969.

**Hyginus Rille is the alternate site for the H-2 mission if operational constraints prevent landing at Fra Mauro

or Alphonsus.

Table 4. Sites recommended MSC.*

Mission Prime First launch Alternate

Site opportunity site

H-2 (13) Fra Mauro Mar. 12, 1970 Hyginus

H-3 (14) Littrow July 8, 1970 Littrow

H-4 (15) Censorinus Oct. 30, 1970 Fra Mauro

J-1 (16) Descartes Mar. 29, 1971 Censorinus

J-2 (17) Marius Hills July 30, 1971 Marius Hills

J-3 (18) Copernicus Feb. 19, 1972 Davy Rille

J-4 (19) Hadley July 14, 1972 Hadley

J-5 (20) Tycho Feb. 7, 1973 Copernicus

*Minutes, Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting, October 30, 1969

to the last J mission, which would leave ample time to look for ways to overcome

the operational limitations. Houston's representative proposed yet another

sequence of missions (Table 4), which the board approved as a basis for continuing evaluation.16

Assignment of sites to specific missions was tentative at this stage of the project because the necessary information was still sketchy. By the end of 1969, how216
Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

ever, much of this information was becoming available. Apollo 12 demonstrated

the ability to make precision landings, a requirement for the later H missions.

As the initial scientific study of samples from Apollo 11 and 12 yielded information on chemical composition and age, the basis for choice among the remaining

sites became somewhat more clear-cut. On the other hand, in January 1970 Apollo

20 was canceled, and the prospect that others might be dropped clouded the

picture.

In February 1970 the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning met at Houston

to reassess the list of sites in light of recent developments and to make new recommendations to the Site Selection Board. Tycho was reluctantly dropped from consideration because of its operational problems, although the group indicated that

location was still interesting. The remaining sites on the list approved in October

were endorsed, with minor changes. Fra Mauro remained the highest priority

on the list because it offered the chance to sample material that originated deep

within the moon. The group wanted to move Marius Hills from the second to

the first J mission, interchanging it with Descartes. It specified that the target on

the fourth "H" mission should be as near the highland terrain around Davy Rille

as possible, to be reasonably sure of sampling highland material; otherwise Censorinus was preferred. Finally, the group recommended that the site for the landing at Hadley (J-4) be moved from the west side of Hadley Rille to the east side,

to allow the astronauts to reach the Apennine Front and sample more than one

type of terrain.57

MSC's Science and Applications Directorate evaluated this list with three guiding principles in mind: information gained from previous missions should weigh

heavily in selection of later sites; since only a few missions remained, sites should

be chosen to answer as many scientific questions as possible and missions should

have multiple objectives; and the sites of undisputed scientific interest should

be scheduled as early as possible. On this basis, MSC recommended shifting

Copernicus to Apollo 16 and the Marius Hills to Apollo 18. The objectives at the

Marius Hills site might be satisfied at either Davy or Copernicus, and some of

the instrumentation desired for a Marius Hills mission might not be developed

in time to fly on Apollo 16. Should that be the case, a delay would imperil the

sequence, because the useful payload for a Marius Hills mission fell off by as much

as 6,000 pounds (2,720 kilograms) after midyear.*58

After the Apollo 13 mission had to be aborted, the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning reconsidered its recommendations and endorsed Fra Mauro (the

planned Apollo 13 site) for Apollo 14. Its importance in dating the Imbrian event

remained, and it offered advantages for placement of another passive seismometer, an active seismometer, and a third laser retroreflector. For Apollo 15, the

Group recommended a site near the Davy crater chain, assuming adequate photography could be obtained on 14.59

As it turned out, the photos from Apollo 14 would come too late to allow certification of Davy as a site for Apollo 15, and in June the site selection subgroup

convened once more to evaluate candidate sites for Apollo 15 and 16. By that

time it was already clear that more missions might be canceled, which further

*This was the result of the mission rule requiring daylight launches and of the annual variation

in the geometric relationships of the earth, sun, and moon.

217
Where No Man Has Gone Before

complicated the subgroup's deliberations. After a long discussion that reexamined

14 sites* for which reasonably adequate photographs were available, the subgroup

agreed on a recommendation that the Marius Hills be the candidate for Apollo

15. Littrow was the chosen alternate. For Apollo 16, Descartes was the landing

site of choice. In the event that Apollo 15 was canceled, Marius Hills should be

shifted to Apollo 16 and Descartes to 17. The remaining sites were ruled out, either

because MSC had determined that they were unsuitable for landing or because

they appeared to offer insufficient new scientific information to justify consideration. 60 Following this meeting only Littrow, Descartes, Hadley-Apennines, and

the Marius Hills remained as strong candidates for the last missions.

In the next three months, MSC began to try to overcome the difficulties in getting a consensus on landing sites among the various scientific groups.** Anthony

Calio decided to ask three groups of scientists to examine the question separately

and make independent recommendations. After receiving their opinions, Calio

summarized the criteria for selection of an Apollo 15 site. It should offer a major

advance in the study of the moon and a high probability of answering essential

scientific questions and satisfying the objectives of more than one scientific discipline; it should be certifiable on the basis of existing photography and not dependent on photographs to be obtained by Apollo 14; it should be operationally

feasible without further analysis; and it should be appropriate for either a walking mission or a rover mission, so that it could be flown on Apollo 15 or (if 15

should be canceled) 16. Calio then described the geologic features of the HadleyApennine site, located on the eastern rim of Palus Putredinus, nearly 30 degrees

north of the moon's equator. Among the sites still under consideration, Hadley

was unique in offering direct access, with or without a roving vehicle, to a mountainous highland, a mare surface, and a sinuous rille. Furthermore, it appeared

on most of the priority lists produced by the disciplinary groups. It would offer

the advantage of establishing the high-latitude arm of a well dispersed array of

geophysical instruments, essential to investigating the moon's interior (by seismology) and its orbital librations (by measurements from the laser retroreflectors).61

After the cancellation of Apollo 15 and 19 in early September 1970, MSC

presented the case for Hadley at the Apollo Site Selection Board's meeting later

that month. Arguments for Hadley and Marius Hills were fairly evenly matched,

both from scientific and operational standpoints, and the debate between the two

was virtually deadlocked until astronaut David Scott, recently picked to command

Apollo 15 (see below), said that he preferred Hadley although he thought he could

land at either site. Scott's opinion tipped the balance. The Board recommended

Hadley for a launch date between July and September 1971, Descartes for Apollo

*Censorinus, Littrow, Alphonsus, Hyginus Rlle, Rima Bode II, Hipparchus, Mosting C, Dionysius,

Sinus Medii, Flamsteed P, Gassendi, Copernicus, Descartes, and Marius Hills (see Table 1). At this

meeting, MSC ruled out Copernicus and Censorinus as unsuitable for landing because of rough terrain. The subgroup dropped Gassendi, which appeared to present the same disadvantage.

—According to an MSC participant, consensus among the scientists at a site selection meeting was

nearly impossible to obtain. Each individual repeatedly voted for the site of his choice, and in the end,

NASA (i.e., MSC) had to made the decision. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots for Apollo,

p. 365.

218
Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

16 between January and March 1972. The choice of a site for Apollo 17 was left

open; Marius Hills and Copernicus were the leading candidates, but others (e.g.,

Littrow) were still in the running, and a new site might be found in future orbital

photography.62

The September meeting wrapped up the Apollo Site Selection Board's

unfinished business for the time being. After Apollo 14, scheduled for the following April, it would reconvene to examine the list of sites in light of the results

of that mission.

Crews for the Last Missions

In the weeks following Apollo 11, when scientists and others found fault with

many aspects of the program, NASA was frequently castigated for its failure to

assign a scientist to a moon mission at the earliest possible date. When crews

were named for Apollo 13 and 14 in August 1969, the absence of a scientistastronaut on either crew was pointedly noticed by the press. 63 Scientists, eager

to have a scientist assigned to a crew, argued that one pilot in the lunar module

was enough: the second person was largely a bystander during the landing anyway. But Deke Slayton, director of flight crew operations at MSC and the person

responsible for selecting crews, was adamant. At this point only one landing had

been made, and it had required almost instinctive action by the pilot in the last

seconds before touchdown. Slayton was not yet willing to entrust that responsibility to a less experienced astronaut. Besides, he had to be prepared for the worst

case. "Both guys have to be able to fly it.... It would sure be a crime to have

one guy as a passenger and the commander break a leg and then you lose two

guys instead of one, plus the vehicle." 64 Slayton had nothing but good things

to say about the scientist-astronauts and admitted that one of them, geologist

Harrison H. ("Jack") Schmitt, might be about ready for a flight, but he was not

going to be rushed. 65 By the end of the year, however, "reliable sources" were

saying that Schmitt would be named to the backup crew for Apollo 15.66

On March 26, 1970, two weeks before Apollo 14 was launched, Slayton

announced the names of the crewmen selected for Apollo 15. As he had done

twice before, Slayton picked a backup crew from a prior mission*: commander

David R. Scott, command module pilot Alfred M. Worden, and lunar module

pilot James B. Irwin, all Air Force officers. As backup crew he named Richard

F. Gordon, who had piloted the command module on Apollo 12, commander;

Vance D. Brand, command module pilot; and Jack Schmitt, lunar module pilot.67

Three scientist-astronauts made up the support crew: astronomers Karl G. Henize

and Robert A. Parker and physicist Joseph P. Allen IV. Schmitt's assignment signaled MSC's intention to send a scientist to the moon before Apollo was finished:

`While it could not always be followed, Slayton's policy was to keep crews together. He normally

assigned backup crewmen to prime crews for the third mission following their backup assignment,

as was the case for Apollo 7 and Apollo 9. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin of Apollo 11 had both

been on the backup crew for Apollo 8; Mike Collins, initially on the prime crew for Apollo 8, had

to drop out when he developed a medical problem that required surgery. He returned to active status and six months later was assigned to Apollo 11.

219
Where No Man Has Gone Before

in the normal course of events he could expect to draw the assignment as lunar

module pilot on Apollo 18, which at the time was the next-to-last mission on the

schedule.

As the only geologist among the scientist-astronauts, Schmitt was the logical

choice to be the first scientist assigned to a lunar landing mission. Logic aside,

he had developed his flying skills assiduously and taken care to make himself

useful around the astronaut office. Having participated in the geology training

since joining the program, he had been instrumental in reorienting the course

to suit the rather specialized purposes of lunar exploration, bringing in outside

experts who emphasized the larger picture rather than the minute details of field

geology that could easily get in the way of astronauts interpreting what they could

see. He had spent many hours with the crews of Apollo 11, 12, 13, and 14, helping them sharpen their observational and sampling skills. He had also made an

effort to get acquainted with the people in flight operations, learning as much

as he could about their problems and capabilities and helping to coordinate science

with flight operations. 68 As the one scientist-astronaut whose professional specialty was particularly suited to the objectives of Apollo, Schmitt was able to satisfy

his need to stay current in his profession while carrying out the duties demanded

of an astronaut. That, plus his general determination to do whatever seemed likely

to get him a crew assignment, kept him from getting on the wrong side of Slayton and the test pilots.

Yet Schmitt's reservation on a moon-bound lunar module was by no means

confirmed. One mission already had been dropped, and additional cuts were a

strong possibility when Schmitt was named to a backup crew; when Apollo 15

and 19 were canceled in September 1970, it appeared that the backups for Apollo

14—Gene Cernan, Ron Evans, and Joe Engle, named in August 1969—would be

the prime crew of Apollo 17 and thus the last people to explore the moon.

Scientist-Astronauts' Dissatisfaction Surfaces

The scientist-astronauts had kept out of the public discussions of whether pilots

or scientists should draw assignments to lunar missions. But in the year and a

half after the first lunar landing they grew increasingly restive and their discontent became known within NASA. In January 1971, Associate Administrator

Homer Newell spent a day in Houston, privately hearing two or three scientists

at a time air their grievances. Practically all of them said, in effect, that they could

not keep up their scientific competence under the existing organization and leadership of the Astronaut Office. Most of them expressed no animosity toward Deke

Slayton; they simply thought his criteria for crew selection were wrong. He gave

no consideration to the scientific activity that most of them had tried to work into

their schedules. Even among the pilots, proficiency in science seemed unimportant: one nonscientist who was regarded as the best geology student on his crew

was designated command module pilot and thus would never set foot on the

moon. They were almost all pessimistic about prospects for science on Skylab

and Shuttle unless something was done to change the way crews were selected.

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Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

Yet none of them felt that resigning in protest was a good way to change the

system, and none wanted to leave the astronaut corps.69

Newell jotted down a few points after the meetings that he would later incorporate into a list of recommendations to Administrator James C. Fletcher: that

a change in the method of and responsibility for selecting crews should be considered; a geologist should be assigned to a lunar mission as soon as possible;

and if feasible, two scientists should be assigned to each Skylab mission. In addition the training program should be restructured to allow the scientist-astronauts

to give more attention to their scientific careers.70

After reporting his findings to Fletcher—calling them tentative because he had

heard only one side of the question—Newell discussed the problem at some length

in the following weeks with Dale D. Myers, associate administrator for manned

space flight, and Robert R. Gilruth, director of MSC. Gilruth's (and Slayton's)

view that lunar missions required the skills of experienced test pilots prevailed.

Myers decided he could not "commit casually to the flight of scientist astronauts

on an Apollo mission": a failure on a lunar flight could mean the end of manned

space flight for a long time. On March 1 Myers advised the Chairman of the Space

Science Board, Charles H. Townes, of the conclusions he and Gilruth had reached:

1. NASA should, if possible, fly a geologist on Apollo;

2. Dr. Harrison H. Schmitt is our geologist candidate;

3. Flight crews are normally announced after they have worked together on

backup crews, as Jack is now doing on Apollo 15;

4. If his training continues to progress satisfactorily.... and if all other aspects

of crew selection are satisfied, he will be chosen for Apollo 17;

5. We will make that decision in the same time frame as for previous crew

selections, which for Apollo 17 will be no earlier than August 1971 (after

Apollo 15). I will review our decision with you at that time."

This was the best Newell could get for the scientist-astronauts. He continued to

work to get two scientists on each Skylab mission, but without success.72

So Schmitt's place on a lunar landing mission was assured, barring some highly

unlikely occurrence, but the announcement would be another six months in coming. Meanwhile, a month after Alan Shepard and his crew returned from Apollo

14, Slayton named the crew for Apollo 16: commander John W. Young, command module pilot Ken Mattingly, and lunar module pilot Charles M. Duke, Jr.,

who had trained together for Apollo 13. Young had logged more time in space

than any other eligible astronaut,* having flown on Gemini III, Gemini X, and

Apollo 10. Mattingly had come within three days of flying on Apollo 13 but had

been taken off for medical reasons (see Chapter 11). Duke, a member of the third

class of astronauts chosen in 1966, had not yet had a flight assignment. Veterans

Fred Haise, Stuart Roosa, and Edgar Mitchell made up the backup crew.73

*Jim Lovell, the record holder for time in space, was not eligible, having announced before the

launch of Apollo 13 that it would be his last flight.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Second Apollo Lunar Science Conference

On January 11, 1971, the second symposium on Apollo results convened in

Houston. Some 400 scientists gathered to hear further findings from the Tranquility samples and the first from Oceanus Procellarum. An added feature of the

conference was the presence of Academician Aleksandr Pavlovich Vinogradov,

vice-president of the Soviet Academy of Sciences and director of the Vernadsky

Institute for Analytical Chemistry in Moscow, who presented the results of examination of lunar samples returned by the Soviet Union's Luna 16 from a site almost

1,000 kilometers (625 miles) east of Tranquility Base. * Like its predecessor of 1970,

the lunar science conference of 1971 was rich in detail but poor in large-scale conclusions. This was only to be expected in view of the small number of sites sampled, the complexity of the material returned, and the short time scientists had

been studying the samples.

Vinogradov's report indicated nothing especially novel about the site where

Luna 16 landed. It was covered with a fine soil essentially similar to the samples

Apollo 11 and 12 had brought back. 74 Other papers, however, presented fundamentally new information. One of the puzzling aspects of the Apollo 11 investigations had been that lunar rocks seemed to be younger than the soil ("regolith"

is the technical term) around them, by as much as a billion years, and differed

in chemical composition as well. Material in some of the Apollo 12 samples

appeared to offer an explanation of the differences. MSC scientists found some

fragments rich in potassium (chemical symbol K), rare-earth elements, and phosphorus (leading to the acronym "KREEP"), best explained as debris from an old

bedrock. 75 Other investigators found a rock fragment of similar composition,

which, they speculated, represented material which originally was located near

the surface of an ancient lunar crust. 76 These discoveries supported the idea that

very early in its history, the moon had had a molten surface layer that slowly

cooled to produce a primitive crust, which was then subjected to later episodes

of melting. The scientists conjectured that the KREEP material, which showed

evidence of having been subjected to considerable shock, was thrown onto the

plain of Oceanus Procellarum by the impact of a large meteorite in the highlands. 77

This view was consistent with the "chemical anomaly" of the KREEP component compared to the neighboring rocks. It was relatively low in iron and relatively high in aluminum, and the differences decreased the farther the regolith

samples were from the highlands, as would be expected if the material responsible had been thrown out by impact.76

The second lunar science conference provided no ultimate key to the origin and

history of the moon, any more than the first had done. Besides adding some

"The unmanned lunar probe Luna 16 landed in Mare Fecunditatis (lunar latitude 0°41' south, longitude 56°18' east, approximately 100 kilometers [63 miles] west of crater Webb) on Sept. 20, 1970. An

electrically driven core drill penetrated some 35 centimeters (14 inches) into the lunar soil, collecting

about 100 grams (3.5 ounces) of sample, which was dumped into an upper stage of the spacecraft

and returned to earth four days later. NASA, Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1970: Chronology on Science,

Technology, and Policy (NASA SP-4015) , pp. 299, 316, 325, 349. Vinogradov's presentation at the conference was one aspect of the cooperation in space exploration that was developing at the time, which

culminated in a joint American-Soviet manned mission in 1975. See Edward C. Ezell and Linda N.

Ezell, The Partnership: A History of the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project, NASA SP-4209 (Washington, 1978).

222
Apollo Assumes Its Final Form: 1970-1971

200-odd papers to the scientific literature on lunar science, it showed that future

missions might be expected to provide more scientific surprises. Future conferences, however, would present new information in a growing context of facts

about the moon, established in the first two conferences and rapidly expanding

as investigators published their results elsewhere.'

Although the results of the second lunar science conference came too late to

influence the choice of a target for Apollo 14 (which was launched two weeks

later), they indicated that the Fra Mauro site selected for that mission was likely

to be a good choice. Its intrinsic interest as the first nonmare landing site was

heightened by the discovery of KREEP, for if that material were found in substantial quantity at Fra Mauro, the tenable hypotheses about the origin and early

history of the moon would be considerably restricted.

The End of Quarantine

Astronauts and lunar scientists alike had chafed under the requirement to

quarantine spacecraft crews and lunar samples until it could be proved that no

infectious organisms had been brought back from the moon. Early in 1970 the

Interagency Committee on Back Contamination (ICBC) reviewed quarantine

requirements in light of the results from the first two Apollo missions. Considering the conditions that had been found to exist on the moon—and probably had

existed for billions of years—the requirement for quarantine now appeared superfluous. After lengthy discussion, the committee agreed to recommend to the

NASA administrator that crew quarantine be discontinued. They believed, however, that biological examination of the lunar samples should be continued and

that biological containment practices in the lunar receiving laboratory should continue, since among other things they assured the integrity of the samples. It was

agreed that the Space Science Board would be advised of this recommendation. 79

In February 1970 the Space Science Board discussed the matter and found no

reason to discontinue quarantine for Apollo 13, which was to fly in two months,

since it was targeted for a highland site that was different from the mare sites

sampled by Apollo 11 and 12. Nonetheless it agreed with the ICBC that crews

on future missions need not be quarantined unless anticipated differences in landing sites seemed to require it.80

After the aborted flight of Apollo 13, the quarantine remained in force for 14,

since it was scheduled to take a deep lunar core sample, which might be different from surface samples. 81 So Alan Shepard, Ed Mitchell, and Stuart Roosa spent

their time in the quarantine area of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory, the last lunar

explorers to do so. When no further evidence of exotic diseases or organic material appeared, the requirement was finally revoked, although the ICBC would

continue to function through Apollo 17.82

'The moratorium on publication before the conference, stipulated by NASA and agreed to by the

principal investigators of the Apollo 11 samples (see Chapter 9), was lifted after the first lunar science

conference. It had been imposed to avoid "a wild scramble for publication immediately after samples

became available." Philip H. Abelson, "The Moon Issue," Science 167 (1970): 447. There was evidently a strong feeling that scientists were not immune to the temptation of the publicity that would

accrue to the first publication of the results of investigating a lunar sample.

223
13

LUNAR EXPLORATION CONCLUDED

When the spacecraft Kitty Hawk returned from Fra Mauro on February 9, 1971,

the preliminary stage of lunar exploration ended. Project Apollo, severely truncated in the budget cuts of 1970, entered its last phase as NASA prepared to exploit

the potential of earth-orbital manned flight. Skylab, an earth-orbiting laboratory

scheduled for three long-duration missions between 1973 and 1974, would lay

the groundwork. Shuttle, the new reusable spacecraft that carried NASA's hopes

for a continuing manned program, had yet to receive the blessing of the Nixon

administration's budget officials and appeared to be facing stiff opposition in Congress. After that, it would face a long period of development that seemed likely

to push the next set of manned missions into the late 1970s or early 1980s.

Apollo's mission planners, looking ahead to only three more lunar missions,

intended to make them as scientifically productive as the limitations of the system allowed. Modifications to the lunar module were under way and the first

flight model of the lunar rover was undergoing tests. Landing sites for the next

two missions had been selected and a group of sensors for remote sensing of

the moon from lunar orbit was under development (see Chapter 12).

Apollo 15: Great Expectations

Apollo 15, the first of the "J" missions, was the most complex mission yet

attempted, one of which much was expected. Its landing site, 26 degrees north

of the lunar equator, was the first outside the original "Apollo zone." Commander

David R. Scott would bring the lunar module to the surface along a steeper

approach path (25 degrees) than had been used previously, coming in over the

Apennine front north of the 3,500-meter (11,500-foot) ridge of Hadley Delta. His

landing site was about 5 kilometers (3 miles) northwest of Hadley Delta, 11 kilometers (7 miles) southwest of the foot of 5,500-meter (18,000-foot) Mount Hadley, and about a kilometer (half a mile) east of the edge of Hadley Rille.'

Apollo 15 was the first mission to fly the extended lunar module with the

increased payload it could carry: expendable supplies sufficient to support the

astronauts for 67 hours, a complete lunar surface experiments package (see Appendix 5), and the first lunar roving vehicle. Excursions were planned to the foot

of the Apennine Front and along Hadley Rille. In addition to the usual geological

investigations, the crew would take core samples to a depth of 2.5 meters (8 feet),

using an electrically powered drill. Temperature sensors inserted into the drill

PRECED ING PAGE BLA NK NOT FILMEY' ?*^^, QNr10NALI V 91ANg
W^

n

lam,

Where No Man Has Gone Before

This photo of the Apollo 15 command and service module, taken from lunar module Falcon while still

in lunar orbit, clearly shows the arrangement of the instruments in the scientific instrument module

(SIM) bay of the service module.

holes would enable scientists to record the rate at which heat flowed from the

moon's interior to the surface.z

Starting with Apollo 15, the orbiting command and service module had a much

larger role to play in the lunar science program. While Scott and LM pilot James

Irwin were on the moon, command module pilot Alfred Worden's flight plan

called for him to operate a group of instruments carried in the scientific instrument module (SIM) in the service module. Two cameras would collect high-quality

photographs of the lunar surface. A laser altimeter was provided to give a precise profile of the lunar surface and to allow photogrammetrists to correct the

data from the cameras, from which accurate maps of the moon could be produced.

Besides cameras, the SIM bay housed instruments for remote sensing of the lunar

surface and a scientific subsatellite to be released in lunar orbit for long-term measurement of particles and magnetic fields. On the trip back to earth Worden would

make the first extravehicular sortie in cislunar space to bring film from the cameras

back into the command module.'

ORIGINAL PAGE

226BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
1 26

l^

r I ^

CRICINAL PACE Lunar Exploration Concluded

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH

Apollo 16 crewmen Charles Duke (right) and John Young (behind the vehicle) observe the deployment

of their lunar roving vehicle during a test at Kennedy Space Center.

The Lunar Rover and New Experiments

The lunar roving vehicle was among the more important new developments

for the extended Apollo missions, since it would allow the astronauts to sample

a much larger area around the landing site. When Boeing won the rover contract

in November 1969, it had little time to produce the novel vehicle: at the time the

schedule called for flight of the first rover on Apollo 16 in April 1971. 4 Many details

of design were still to be settled, and much of 1970 was spent in ironing them out.

What evolved from the program was a unique four-wheeled vehicle remarkable for its versatility and compactness. Smaller than a subcompact car, the rover

had a 2.3-meter (7.5-foot) wheelbase and measured 3.1 meters long, 1.8 meters

wide, and 1.14 meters high (10 x 6 x 3.75 feet). For its trip to the moon, all four

wheels folded inward and the rover folded double for stowage in the descent

stage of the lunar module. It was powered by two 36-volt silver-zinc batteries

with sufficient power for a range of 65 kilometers (40 miles) at speeds up to 17

kilometers per hour (11 miles per hour). If either battery failed the other could

r

227
ORIGINAL PAGE Where No Man Has Gone Before BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH

Apollo 16 commander John Young practices unstowing the I unar roving vehicle from its storage space

in the lunar module.

carry the entire load. Four separate motors, one at each wheel, drove the vehicle; any wheel could be cut out of the circuit and allowed to "free-wheel" if its

drive mechanism developed problems. Tires of spring-steel wire mesh carried

treads of titanium-alloy chevrons for traction; "bump stops" inside the wire mesh

prevented collapse of a tire in case of severe shock. Two collapsible seats were

mounted on the chassis, along with racks for equipment, tools, and sample bags.

All the rover's driving functions—forward and reverse speed, braking, and

steering—were controlled by a T-handle mounted between the seats. Besides fourwheel drive, the rover featured redundant four-wheel steering. Either front or

rear wheels could be turned while the other pair was locked straight, or both

could be used simultaneously, allowing the rover to turn completely around within

its own length. It could clamber over obstacles 30 centimeters (1 foot) high, climb

and descend slopes of 25 degrees, and park on slopes as steep as 35 degrees.

The rover navigated by a dead-reckoning system. At the start of a traverse the

astronauts oriented the system's navigational gyroscope with reference to the sun.

During the trip, odometers recorded the distance traveled and the system con228
BL;,"."'K r'%"," D WHITE PHO-FOGRAPH Lunar Exploration Concluded

Driver's view of the control panel for the lunar roving vehicle. Power monitors and controls are in the

center; the steering control is the handle at the extreme right. The navigational system readout (upper

left) shows the current heading of the rover and the distance and bearing to the lunar module. The

speedometer is at the upper right.

tinuously computed and displayed the direction and distance to the lunar module.

Communications from the rover were relayed to earth through the lunar module, but could be sent directly to earth when the lunar terrain blocked the line

of sight between the two vehicles. Mounted on the front of the rover were a television camera and a high-gain antenna. At each stop the astronauts would activate the camera and orient its antenna toward earth. For the first time, scientists

229
nn r.r arr, ^,,: r.. L.

Where No Man Has Gone Before BLACK AND WHITE F;-;Q7OGRAIFH

at Mission Control would be able to look over the astronauts' shoulders during

surface exploration. Unlike the rover itself, the camera could be controlled from

earth, allowing scientists to direct the lunar activity, if necessary, on the basis

of what they could see. Alternatively, they could use the camera to survey the

area for interesting features while the astronauts carried out their preplanned

activities.

Fully equipped and ready for flight, the lunar rover weighed just over 200 kilograms (440 pounds) and could carry about 490 kilograms (1,080 pounds), including the astronauts, their life-support systems, their tools and equipment, and 27

kilograms (60 pounds) of lunar samples that could be brought back to the lunar

module on each trip. Models to be flown on missions were designed to support

this weight on the moon; in all prelaunch tests they had to be supported on special racks, since if anyone inadvertently sat down on one it could collapse.5

,Ak 1

Apollo 17 astronauts Jack Schmitt (left) and Gene Cernan during the checkout of their lunar roving

vehicle. The roving vehicle used on the moon had to be supported on earth because it would not support

the astronauts' weight in normal gravity; note the wheels off the surface.

230
Lunar Exploration Concluded

Development of the rover was not without its problems. Although the project

got some schedule relief with the postponement of the first flight from April to

July 1971, at one point it was estimated to be two months behind schedule. 6 The

deficit was soon made up, however. The one-g training vehicle, a structurally

strengthened version equipped with conventional tires for use on earth, was delivered on November 18, 1970, and crews immediately began training with it. 7 The

first vehicle to be flown to the moon was delivered to Kennedy Space Center

the following March for prelaunch testing. Eight weeks later the rover was stowed

in the lunar module and both were loaded into the Saturn V stack.'

In January 1971 Apollo 15's scientific instruments began arriving at Kennedy

Space Center, where they were subjected to two months of extensive preflight

testing. KSC engineers had more than a few problems with the instruments, as

they usually did when a new component was added to the spacecraft. Some

arrived late; principal investigators or contractor representatives often wanted

to make small changes or conduct last-minute tests. Mechanical problems complicated the process as well. Two of the instruments had to be extended from

the service module on long booms to avoid interference from spacecraft systems.

The booms, designed for zero-g operation, would not support the instruments

in earth gravity, so on-the-spot fixes had to be improvised, with less than completely satisfactory results. But calibrations were finally completed and the SIM

was returned to North American's California plant for rework. When retesting

was completed in late April, the package was installed in the service module.

The lunar subsatellite arrived in May and after checkout was loaded into the space

craft on June 9.9

To the Mountains of the Moon

Thunderstorms visited launch complex 39A during the month preceding Apollo

15's launch. Four lightning strikes damaged some ground support equipment

but the spacecraft and launch vehicle were undamaged. 10 Otherwise the countdown for Apollo 15 was, as launch director Walter Kapryan described it, "the

most nominal countdown that we have ever had. " 11 At 9:34 a.m. on July 26, just

187 milliseconds behind schedule, the Saturn V carrying command module

Endeavour* and its crew blasted off. Twelve minutes later Scott, Irwin, and Worded were in orbit some 92 nautical miles above the earth, and after two revolutions their S-IVB stage reignited to send them on their way to the plain at Hadley.

After extracting the lunar module Falcon (named for the Air Force Academy's

mascot by the all-Air-Force crew) from its stowage atop the S-IVB, they settled

down for an uneventful 3-day trip to the moon. Only two small midcourse

corrections were required along the way. 12

*Conscious of the importance of science on their mission, the crew named their spacecraft for the

ship commanded by Lieut. James Cook, who had sailed from England to Tahiti in 1768 to observe

the transit (passage between the earth and the sun) of the planet Venus in August 1769. Apollo Prime

Crew Press Conference, June 18, 1971, transcript.

231
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Four hours before settling into lunar orbit, the crew jettisoned the cover of the

scientific instrument module in preparation for the lunar-orbital science to be conducted later. Endeavour went smoothly into lunar orbit. Scott and Irwin entered

Falcon about 40 minutes early, checked out its systems, and had ample time to

eat lunch before beginning powered descent. After they undocked, Worden put

Endeavour into a circular orbit suitable for gathering scientific data.13

Ten hours into their fourth day, Scott powered up Falcon for the approach to

Hadley. As had been the case throughout the mission so far, everything went

well during the landing approach. At about 9,000 feet (2,750 meters) above the

surface Scott noted the peak of Hadley Delta to his left; until he reached 5,000

feet (1,500 meters) the only other landmark he could spot was Hadley Rille. The

terrain was less sharply defined than he had expected from simulations. After

entering several redesignations of the landing site into his control computer, Scott

yZ"?..

Y

Astronaut Jim Irwin is aboard the lunar rover waiting for Apollo 15 commander Dave Scott to finish

photographing the landing site before departing on their first lunar traverse. The view is toward the

south. St. George crater, about 5 kilometers distant, appears immediately behind Irwin. Hadley Delta

rises behind the lunar module, which is visibly tilted because Scott landed on the rim of a shallow

crater.

232
Lunar Exploration Concluded

brought Falcon down through blinding dust and touched down at 6:16 p.m. Eastern Daylight Time on July 29. Not sure of his exact location, Scott was sure he

was well within the boundaries of his designated landing zone. The lunar module came to rest tilted back and to its left; two of its landing pads were just over

the edge of a small crater that Scott had not been able to see as he approached

the surface."

During the next 67 hours Scott and Irwin were to ride and walk over more of

the lunar surface than any of their predecessors. The first chore was a "standup

EVA," to survey the landing area for the benefit of the scientists in Houston.

Scott removed the upper hatch of the lunar module and stood on the engine cover,

describing what he could see and taking photographs that would allow construction of a panorama of the landing area. One remarkable photograph showed clear

evidence of stratigraphy in a prominent landmark ("Silver Spur") to the east of

Hadley Delta—a feature the explorers were unable to see later because of unfavorable lighting. While Scott and Irwin carried out their assignments on the surface,

Al Worden, orbiting above in Endeavour, had activated the scientific instruments

and cameras and was busy gathering data. On his 15th revolution he spotted

Falcon on the surface and relayed its position to Houston."

The next morning Scott and Irwin were up early and out on the surface. They

unloaded their roving vehicle without difficulty, climbed on and buckled their

seat belts, and set out on the first traverse. Scott soon discovered that the rover's

front wheels could not be steered. He could not correct the anomaly, but went

ahead, relying on the rear-wheel steering alone.16

Their first goal was "Station 1," a spot on the rim of a medium-sized crater

("Elbow") located on the edge of Hadley Rille at the point where it makes a sharp

bend. On the way Scott had to get the feel of driving the rover, which he found

to be an excellent vehicle. Driving it on the moon, however, was not quite like

driving the 1-g trainer, and among other things he had to keep his eyes on the

surface ahead, especially when heading toward the sun, because surface features

were not always readily visible. The rover's maneuverability was good, but at 8 to

10 kilometers per hour (5 to 6 miles per hour) the ride was a bit bouncy. Driving

took all of Scott's attention, so Irwin provided most of the descriptions for

Houston's scientists. 17

Proceeding along the edge of Hadley Rille, the explorers had an excellent view

of the entire width of the canyon (about 1.5 kilometers or almost 1 mile) and down

its length to the sharp bend by "Elbow" crater. Landmarks along the route were

not always easy to identify, but their course was laid out by range and bearing

and they were never as uncertain about their position as Shepard and Mitchell

had been on Apollo 14. Less than half an hour after leaving the LM, and having

traveled something over 3 kilometers (about 2 miles) they reached their first stop,

dismounted, and turned on the television camera to give Houston a view of the

area. Using a telephoto lens, Scott photographed the far side of Hadley Rille where

layering was obvious in outcrops not far below the rim. Panoramic photography

and sample collection completed their work at Site 1.18

Remounting their vehicle, Irwin and Scott drove around "Elbow" crater to Site

2, about 500 meters (1,600 feet) farther down at a point where ejecta from St.

George crater encroached on the edge of the rille. Here they began to encounter

233
Where No Man Has Gone Before

large blocks lying on the surface. One that excited Irwin particularly was a meter

or so (3 to 4 feet) across, its downslope edge buried in the loose soil and its upslope

edge free of the surface. He photographed and sampled it; then once again they

took panoramic photographs and soil samples and drove a double core tube into

the edge of a crater.79

With no more stops scheduled, Scott now turned the rover on to the heading

prescribed by his navigation system to return to the LM. On the way he cautiously tried some maneuvers with the rover. Attempting a turn on a downslope,

he discovered that "you can't go fast downhill in this thing, because if you try

and turn with the front wheels locked up like that, they dig in and the rear end

breaks away, and around you go; and we just did a 180 [degree turnj. " 20 Near

Elbow crater Scott noted that there was a "neat place to go down into the rille,"

but Capcom reminded him that "we'd rather that you don't take that option. 1121

_

-

Hadley Delta slopes upward and to the right in this photograph taken from the Apollo 15 lunar module

Falcon's upper hatch shortly after landing. The feature in the background, 20 kilometers southeast of

the landing site, is "Silver Spur."

234 LI } ACK r.
Lunar Exploration Concluded

Riding back toward Falcon, Scott and Irwin frequently saw features they would

have liked to stop and examine, but they had no time, so they briefly described

them to Houston and continued .22 When they first caught sight of the LM they

estimated its bearing from the rover at 15 degrees, but the navigation system

showed 34, indicating some drift in the system. They reached the lunar module

2 hours and 15 minutes after they had left, parked the rover, and unloaded the

surface experiments package. Scott had picked a spot about 110 meters (360 feet)

west-northwest of the Falcon to deploy the instruments. Apollo 15's experiments

package included a new heat flow experiment, which required drilling two holes

in which temperature sensors would be placed. The experiments were deployed

without difficulty, but the second heat-flow drill hole caused problems when the

drill stuck and proved difficult to remove. By this time the astronauts were

approaching the limit of their life-support systems, so Mission Control directed

Scott to leave the drill in the hole and get on to other tasks. After deploying the

laser reflector and the solar-wind collector he and Irwin returned to Falcon and

closed the hatch. They had been out for six and a half hours and covered 10.3

kilometers (5.6 miles) on the lunar surface—more than twice as far as the Apollo

14 astronauts had traversed (on foot) during their entire mission. 23 A 40-minute

debriefing with Houston completed their first day of lunar exploration.24

In the press briefing immediately following the first day's surface activity, flight

director Gerald Griffin expressed satisfaction with the astronauts' performance.

Apart from the failure of the rover's front-wheel steering, which had not significantly impaired the planned activity, everything had gone well. Scott had shown

a somewhat higher metabolic rate than anticipated, resulting in faster consumption of oxygen than had been allowed for. This was not a serious concern, but

it would have to be taken into account in planning the remaining excursions.

About the only changes anticipated for the next day's activity were to attempt

to solve the rover's steering problem and to try to extract the drill core for the

heat-flow experiment. 25 However, the science planning team still had to review

the day's results; plans for the second traverse could well be changed in light

of what had been accomplished.

Next morning, after Scott and Irwin had finished breakfast and attended to some

chores in the LM, Capcom Joe Allen briefed them on the upcoming day's work.

Science planners had decided to shorten the traverse somewhat to provide more

exploration with less travel time. A low-priority sampling stop had been tentatively deleted and the route at the foot of Hadley Delta curtailed. The scientists

were giving the astronauts considerable freedom on this traverse, as Allen's

instructions showed:

We're going to depend very much on the observations from the two of you,

and it's going to be ... your choice on exactly where you'd like to range and

where you'd like to carry out your major sampling tasks.... We're looking

now, primarily, for a wide variety of rock samples from the [Apennine] Front.

You've seen the breccias already. We think there may very well be some large

crystalline] igneous [rocks], and we'd like samples of those and whatever variety of rocks which you're able to find for us—but primarily, a large number

of documented samples and fragment samples.... I'll [stop] now and ask

for any more questions .26

235
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Scott replied, "No, no questions, Joe. You're really talking our language today. "27

During their extensive geological training, Scott had come to enjoy field geology

and considered himself a serious amateur, 28 and this was the kind of freedom he

wanted. It was the kind of exploration the geologists had wanted as well, and

although they would have preferred to have one of their own on the moon, apparently they were confident enough of Scott's and Irwin's training to give them

a much freer hand than any previous team of lunar explorers.

Suited up and out on the surface, Scott and Irwin got aboard the rover and

belted in, pausing before they started to flip the circuit breaker for the front steering

open and then closed again. When Scott moved the hand controller the front

wheels moved. Nobody knew why, but he now had full four-wheel steering. 29

Then they set out, on a southerly heading, for the sloping terrain at the foot of

Hadley Delta. Rolling along at 8 to 9 kilometers per hour (5 to 6 miles per hour),

they described the craters and rocks along the route. In about 40 minutes they

were in the vicinity of "Spur" crater, one of their sampling stops, and they parked

the rover to reconnoiter and collect specimens. 30 With continuous commentary

for Houston, the astronauts roamed the area for the next hour, taking pictures

and bagging samples. Then, as they examined a boulder that had attracted their

attention, Scott remarked, "Guess what we just found." Then Irwin came over

for a look:

"Silver Spur," photographed from a distance of some 10 miles. The stratigraphy in the peak is evident.

Hadley Delta rises to the right of Silver Spur, its sloping flank visible in the foreground.

QS(GINAL WAGE

236 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
^s fir,, lI

'1F

GRAPH Lunar Exploration Concluded

BLACK AND v^` ^[ E °- ;LT0 

Irwin: I think we just found what we came for.

Scott: Look at the plage [plagioclase] in there.... I think we might [have

found] ourselves something close to anorthosite, because it's crystalline,

and ... it's just almost all plage. What a beaut!

Irwin: That really is a beauty. And ... there's another one down there .31

"What we came for" was a specimen of the primitive lunar crust—anorthosite,

the rock that some scientists believed was the first material that solidified from

the molten outer layer of the moon. The possibility of finding this material was

one reason the Hadley-Apennines site had been chosen; scientists thought that

if anorthosite was to be found on the moon, a highland site (and one adjacent

to a large collisional mare) would be the best place to look for it. Scott put the

sample into a bag by itself; back on earth it was dubbed the "Genesis rock. "3z

a

The "Genesis rock" as Apollo 15 commander Dave Scott spotted it in its "come-and-sample-me"

position atop a small mound of soil (upper center). Scott quickly identified it as anorthosite, a rock

many scientists believed made up the primitive lunar crust. The vertical-locating gnomon, with

attached color chart, is just to the right of the specimen.

237
Where No Man Has Gone Before

After a few more minutes of sampling and photographing the site, they climbed

back on the rover and started back to the lunar module. Since there was time

available, Houston directed them to stop at site 4 (the one that had been deleted

before the traverse started) where they took more samples. Then it was back to

Falcon to unload their cargo and return to the surface experiments site. Scott made

another attempt to remove the core drill he had left in the ground the day before,

but succeeded only when Irwin helped him pull it out. The second hole for the

heat-flow experiment was drilled and the temperature sensors were emplaced

in both holes. After performing a few more experiments in soil mechanics, Scott

and Irwin drove back to the lunar module, where they had one more task to perform: planting the American flag at the landing site. That done, they transferred

the samples to the LM, and closed the hatch, having completed the most productive lunar science traverse of the program so far.33

Flight director Gerald Griffin expressed that evaluation more strongly at the

change-of-shift press briefing: in his opinion, "we probably have just witnessed

the greatest day of scientific exploration ... in the space program that we've ever

seen. 1134 Allowing for his understandable enthusiasm, Griffin's statement had

solid foundation in fact. Lunar missions had made advances in two years' time

that few would have expected. The equipment had functioned virtually without

flaw, with margins of expendables to spare. Scientists and network audiences

on earth had received live color television pictures far surpassing the crude blackand-white images transmitted by Apollo 11. The astronauts had wasted no time,

they had provided excellent descriptions of what they could see, they had exercised their judgment in collaboration with the ground-based scientists, and had

documented and collected more than 100 pounds (45 kilograms) of rocks, soil,

and core samples. Observers in Mission Control thought they could tell that Scott

and Irwin adapted to lunar gravity on the first traverse and as a result were more

sure-footed and confident on the second. 35 One more traverse remained, a trip

to the edge of Hadley Rille, but 15 would have been rated a success without it.

Capcom Joe Allen passed the word from scientists to the crew just after they

returned to the LM:

I'm told that we checked off the 100 percent science completion square some

time during EVA-1 or maybe even shortly into EVA-2. From here on out, it's

gravy all the way, and we're just going to play it cool, take it easy, and see

some interesting geology. It should be a most enjoyable day.

"Okay, Joe," Scott replied, "Thank you. We're looking forward to it.1136

Their work was not the mission's only contribution to lunar science. While they

had been dashing around the surface, Al Worden in Endeavour had been circling

the moon operating the cameras and instruments. In Endeavour's highly inclined

orbit he was able to see features that no previous observers had laid eyes on,

and he provided detailed descriptions each time he crossed the earth-facing side

of the moon.37

Early the next morning Irwin and Scott left the lunar module on a westnorthwesterly heading to get a good look at Hadley Rille. After describing, photographing, and televising the features of the broad canyon, including evident

layering in the walls,they completed their third traverse in just under 5 hours.38

238
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BLACK AND WHITE PHGTCGRAPH Lunar Exploration Concluded

Back at their base, they collected the solar-wind experiment, after which Irwin

produced a postal cover carrying a new stamp commemorating "a decade of

achievement" in space, and applied a first-day cancellation provided by the Postal

Service. 39 A few minutes later Scott stood before the rover's TV camera to conduct a scientific demonstration:

... In my left hand, I have a feather. In my right hand, a hammer.... One

of the reasons we got here today was because of a gentleman named Galileo

a long time ago who made a rather significant discovery about falling objects

in gravity fields.... The feather happens to be, appropriately, a falcon feather,

for our Falcon, and I'll drop the two of them here and hopefully they'll hit

the ground at the same time. [They did.] ... This proves that Mr. Galileo was

correct in his findings .40

Scott then drove the rover about 300 feet (90 meters) away, where he parked

it with the television camera pointed at Falcon, aligned the antenna with earth,

and walked back to help Irwin load sample bags into the lunar module.

From St. George crater at the foot of Hadley Delta, this uiem looking north up Hadley Rille shows the

floor of the gorge littered with rock fragments that have broken off the layers higher up the sides.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

For the next three hours the crew of the Falcon were occupied with stowing

equipment and sample containers and configuring the LM for takeoff. Then, while

the television camera watched, Falcon's ascent stage shot up from the surface in

a shower of fragments of insulation, visible for only a second or two. Flight controllers had intended to follow Falcon with the camera, but decided against it when

problems developed in the camera's control system. 41 The result contrasted sharply with the majestic rise of a Saturn V; with a "quick pop" and "a shower of

sparks [that] looked more like something left over from the Fourth of July," as

one columnist put it, Falcon quickly disappeared from the TV screen .42

Falcon and Endeavour linked up an hour and 34 minutes later, and after jettisoning the lunar module the three astronauts settled in for two days of additional

lunar-orbital data-gathering. 43 On their last orbit they released the scientific subsatellite, then headed for home. While the spacecraft was still nearly 200,000 miles

(320,000 kilometers) from earth, Al Worden carried out the last extravehicular

excursion of the mission, a 38-minute "space walk" to remove film cassettes from

the cameras in the scientific instrument module. 44 The long voyage home ended

on August 7, when Endeavour dropped into the Pacific Ocean about 320 miles

(515 kilometers) north of Hawaii. The landing was a little harder than normal

because one of the three parachutes failed to open fully, but no damage or injury

resulted.45

Apollo 15's Science Dividend

It was clear even before Scott and his crew returned that Apollo 15 had surpassed all prior missions in both the quantity and variety of information it

returned. More than 350 individual soil and rock samples aggregating 77 kilograms (170 pounds), ranging in size from 1 or 2 grams (0.03 to 0.06 ounce) to

more than 9.5 kilograms (21 pounds) and taken from two distinct selenological

regions (the mare plain and the foot of Hadley Delta), were the richest geological

haul of the program. 46 The seismometer and the heat flow probes emplaced with

the surface experiments package were important in obtaining data on the moon's

interior, while the instruments Al Worden had operated in lunar orbit gathered

information on the chemical composition of large areas on the front and back sides

of the moon.

If the scientists had been unhappy with MSC's cooperation in the early missions, they were overjoyed with the way Apollo 15 was conducted, and several

graciously congratulated MSC on it. Gerald Wasserburg of Caltech wrote to Robert

R. Gilruth to offer his congratulations "on one of the most brilliant missions in

space science ever flown." He particularly praised the fairness and wisdom of

the decisions made during the astronauts' explorations, even though he had not

always got what he wanted. 47 Larry A. Haskin, vice chairman of the lunar sample analysis planning team, told Gilruth that

Scott and Irwin had not been on the surface very long before ... we felt comfortable and confident that the scientific aspects of the mission were in competent hands.... We always felt that the decisions made in real time ... were

240
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GRAPH

fair with respect to priorities given to various activities and that the mission

was well balanced.

Haskin stressed that the inclusion of scientists in planning before the mission

and decision-making during the mission (through the science working group)

was a breakthrough in MSC's relations with the scientific community.48

Preliminary examination of the samples began as soon as the containers were

returned. Documentation of these samples was unusually complete, except for

some taken on the last traverse when time ran short. Taking advantage of the

fact that the astronauts were not quarantined after this mission, the preliminary

examination team asked Scott and Irwin to be present while the containers were

opened, to provide whatever information they could remember about some of

the less well-documented specimens while the circumstances were still fresh in

their minds.49

The preliminary examination team concluded that three distinct types of structures had been sampled at Hadley: the Apennine Front, which had been produced

by collision of an asteroid-sized object with the moon, a series of horizontal lava

flows that filled part of the impact basin; and a ray of ejecta from a large young

crater produced after the basin was filled. Samples from the mountain front were

very diverse, including both breccias and igneous rocks. Those from the mare

plain, where Falcon landed, were of two basic types: basaltic rocks and glass-coated

breccias. The "Genesis Rock," so designated by the press, did turn out to be

Dave Scott and scientist-astronaut Joe Allen (rear) examine the "genesis rock" that Scott and Irwin

found on Apollo 15. The rock was almost pure anorthosite, possibly a remnant of the original lunar

crust. The gadget suspended above the rock displays identifying numbers when the sample is

photographed.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

an extremely pure anorthosite substantially altered by shock, which suggested

that it was involved in a severe impact after it crystallized. Its age was determined

to be 4.15 billion years, with a possible error of 0.2 billion either way, making

it the oldest whole rock so far returned from the moon.so

The core tubes, one containing a 2.4-meter (almost 8-foot) section of the soil,

were not opened during the preliminary examination, but x-ray examination indicated 58 individual layers, from 0.5 to 21 centimeters (0.2 to 8.25 inches) thick,

showing that the soil contained a substantial stratigraphic record.51

Instruments in the service module provided information about the large-scale

chemical variations across the lunar surface. The x-ray fluorescence experiment

measured the x-rays emitted by light elements (magnesium, aluminum, and silicon particularly) when struck by x-rays from the sun. From these data scientists

could determine the ratio of aluminum to silicon over large areas under the orbit

of the command and service module. Initial examination of the results found distinct chemical differences between the maria and the highlands. The highlands

showed an aluminum/ silicon ratio characteristic of anorthosite, which, according to some theories, was formed in the first major event of the moon's geologic

evolution. The maria, on the other hand, were chemically different; sample analysis showed them to be basalts formed by lava flows, and the x-ray fluorescence

results were consistent with this interpretation. 52

The preliminary examination team completed the first stage of its work with

descriptions of more than 50 rocks larger than 50 grams (1.7 ounces) correlated

with the astronauts' descriptions and photographs at the end of August. MSC

recommended release of samples to 20 research teams as soon as possible, since

their results would be useful in planning future lunar surface activity .53 The rest

of the samples were less time-critical and were released to principal investigators

two months later.54

A Geologist for Apollo 17

As was his custom, Slayton waited until Apollo 15 had returned from its flight

to announce his choice of crewmen for the last lunar mission. On August 13,

1971, he named Eugene Cernan, Ronald Evans, and Jack Schmitt as the prime

crew for Apollo 17, backed up by Dave Scott, Al Worden, and Jim Irwin, just

returned from Apollo 15. 55 The decision to put Schmitt on the crew instead of

Joe Engle—who had trained as lunar module pilot with Cernan and Evans on

the backup crew for Apollo 14—was, like all those before it, Slayton's, and no

one in the NASA organization put pressure on him to make it.* He noted later,

however, that "we might have gotten some [pressure], I suppose, if we hadn't

made the right decision down here. [But] there wasn't any doubt ... that we

*But see Chapter 12. Earlier in the year, Dale Myers, chief of manned space flight, and Robert

Gilruth, MSC director, had agreed to Schmitt's appointment to the Apollo 17 crew, subject to his

satisfactory completion of training, and Slayton was undoubtedly a party to that decision. The decision was evidently a well kept secret, however, for as late as August 3, Schmitt was quoted as admitting that it seemed unlikely he would get the chance to explore the moon. Stuart Auerbach, "Apollo

15 Leaves Moon Orbit At End of Historic Mission," Washington Post, Aug. 5, 1971.

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ORICINA! PAGE Lunar Exploration Concluded

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Apollo 16 commander John Young salutes the colors while leaping clear of the lunar surface.

were going to have to do that when they canceled [Apollo 15 and 19] , and we

did it. "56

Engle, who had been out of town during Apollo 15 on personal business, learned

that his plans had been changed on August 10, when he called in to the Astronaut

Office to see if he had any messages. It was a tremendous disappointment; he

had made the hard decision to leave the X-15 program in 1966 because he thought

that going to the moon was the only way he could surpass his past accomplishments. But, he said, "when something like this happens, you can do one of two

things. You can lay on the bed and cry about it ..., or you can get behind the

mission and make it the best in the world." Engle's choice was to support the

mission. He would try to help Schmitt fit into the crew that he himself had trained

with for so long. After that, he hoped to test-fly the space shuttle.57

At the customary news conference the week after the announcement, the first

question challenged Schmitt's assignment to the crew instead of Engle. Schmitt

said, "There's no question that Joe Engle is one of the most outstandingly qualified test pilots in the business," but he was confident of his own abilities: "as

far as my qualifications to fly the spacecraft are concerned, I will attempt to compete with anybody in the program." Cernan agreed: "Jack isn't sitting here as

part of this crew for any other reason than that he has rowed hard, he's earned

it, and he deserved it." He noted that Engle and Dick Gordon (command module pilot on Apollo 12) had been assigned to the new space shuttle project and

commented (perhaps with a trace of envy), "Those guys moving into shuttle right

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

now are probably going to contribute ... a lot more than maybe even we can

contribute by a lunar mission. "58

On its final flight to explore the moon, then, Apollo would send a scientist—

the one astronaut indisputably qualified to make the observations scientists had

long wanted to make. It remained to be seen whether, under the constraints that

limited lunar exploration, he could apply his experience to enhance the quality

of the results.

To the Lunar Highlands: Descartes

Two landing sites had been seriously considered for Apollo 16, the crater

Alphonsus, 300 miles (480 kilometers) south of the moon's center, and the region

some 340 miles (550 kilometers) east-southeast of the moon's center, north of the

ancient crater Descartes. In both places geologists thought they would find highland material differing in composition from the Fra Mauro samples and the basalts

filling the maria. The wall of Alphonsus was, some argued, pre-Imbrian highlands material, while dark craters on its floor were thought to consist of relatively

young volcanic material that might have originated at great depths. North of Descartes, two formations (Cayley and Descartes) were of major interest. Evidence

indicated that both were volcanic but of different types and ages. The area is the

highest topographic region in the highlands on the visible face of the moon,

indicating that the Descartes volcanics represent remobilized highlands. Analysis of these materials was expected to clarify the basic processes that formed the

highlands.59

Preliminary discussions among interested scientists considered both sites but

did not entirely agree on either. 60 Alphonsus remained a strong candidate, but

in view of the fact that it would be preferable to have more results from Apollo

14 and 15 before landing there, Descartes was preferred for Apollo 16. With one

more mission left, Alphonsus could still be visited. The Apollo Site Selection Board

approved Descartes as the landing site for Apollo 16 at its meeting on June 3,

1971.61

Science plans for the Descartes mission were much the same as they had been

for Hadley Rille: to inspect, survey, and sample materials and surface features

in the landing area; emplace and activate the lunar surface experiments; and conduct photography and remote sensing of the moon from lunar orbit. The surface

package included two new instruments: a magnetometer and, in place of Apollo

15's suprathermal ion detector, an active seismometer that would be excited by

several explosive charges after the astronauts left. Another new experiment was

an automatic far-ultraviolet camera and spectrograph to photograph several

galaxies from the moon's surface. Its objective was to study the distribution of

interplanetary and intergalactic hydrogen.62

Apollo 16 blasted off from Kennedy Space Center at 12:54 p.m. Eastern Standard Time on April 16, 1972. Command module Casper and lunar module Orion

arrived in lunar orbit three days later. All systems functioned well until Orion

separated from the command module; a malfunctioning component in the main

propulsion system caused Houston to delay the lunar module's descent for nearly

244
ORIGINAL PACE Lunar Exploration Concluded

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r 1^, t

' zv''a ..

Apollo 16 commander John Young, identified by the stripes on his legs, arms, and helmet, returns from

laying out the lunar surface experiments at the Descartes landing site. In the distance behind Young is

the lunar triaxis magnetometer; to his left is the radioisotope thermal generator (black), which powered

the experiments. Other apparatus on the surface is not identifiable.

six hours while it was checked out. When Mission Control was satisifed, Orion

fired its descent engine and landed easily on the plain at Descartes at 9:33 p.m.

EST on April 20.63

In the next 71 hours mission commander John Young and lunar module pilot

Charles Duke laid out the surface instruments and conducted three traverses in

their lunar rover, covering in all some 27 kilometers (nearly 17 miles). While they

were busy on the surface, Ken Mattingly in Casper was occupied with operating

the instruments in the service module. The only serious mishap on the surface

occurred when Young tripped over the cable to the heat-flow sensors, pulling

it loose from the central station and incapacitating the experiment.64

Young and Duke finished their exploration, loaded the 96 kilograms (210

pounds) of samples they had collected into Orion, and rejoined Mattingly in lunar

orbit on April 23. They released the moon-orbiting subsatellite, but because of

recurring problems with the service propulsion system, the spacecraft was not

in the optimum orbit for the satellite. As a result, the satellite crashed into the

moon after only five weeks. 65 During the four-day return flight they conducted

additional experiments with electrophoresis, a technique that offered advantages

for separating certain biological preparations that could not be efficiently done

in a gravity field. A normal landing in the Pacific, north of Christmas Island, completed the mission on April 27.66

Even before the Apollo 16 rock samples had been returned to Houston it was

apparent that premission interpretations of the Descartes site had not been

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

accurate. The service module instruments showed abnormally low radioactivity

and high aluminum-silicon ratios in the area—both characteristic of typical lunar

highlands. Furthermore, the laser altimeter found that the extensive plateau on

which the site lay was almost four miles higher than the surrounding terrain,

an elevation that seemed impossible to achieve by buildup of volcanic material.67

Preliminary examination of the samples confirmed what scientists had suspected

as soon as Young and Duke began to explore: the site was not volcanic. Most

of them appeared to be impact breccias rather than basalts. 68 This result, confirmed by later analyses, "forced a reevaluation of the process of photogeology

and site selection," because the majority opinion before the mission had affirmed

that the site was volcanic in origin.69

The more samples returned from the moon the less clear the picture of its origin and evolution became to scientists. At the third lunar science conference,

which included presentations of information from Apollo 15 and the Soviets' Luna

16, a more comprehensive picture of the moon was evident, but fewer investigators would claim to understand its evolution. The best summary at the time

seemed to be that the moon is now relatively cold and inactive but that it has

r ^L

Apollo 16 commander John Young collects a rake sample, screening out fragments smaller than about

1 centimeter.

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246 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
ORIGINAL PAGE Lunar Exploration Concluded

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gone through a complex sequence of melting and resolidifying by internal or external heating . 711 Toward the end of 1972 one baffled scientist, Gerald Wasserburg,

summarized the frustrations of the lunar scientists: "we've got answers but not

the questions," he said. "I'm not sure we're asking the questions in exactly the

right way. "71

Apollo 17: The Close of an Era

Following completion of Apollo 15, with 16 in the planning stages and only

one mission remaining after that, one scientist expected that the process of choosing a site for the last flight would be "a dilly of an affair. 1172 Perhaps with that

thought in mind, Rocco Petrone, Apollo program director at NASA Headquarters,

started the procedure early, in October of 1971. After a site evaluation document

had been circulated among selected interested scientists for their critique and

response, an ad hoc site evaluation committee would meet no later than December 30 to consider site proposals and make recommendations to the Apollo Site

Selection Board in early 1972.73

Actually, site selection for Apollo 17 was not as difficult as might have been

expected, considering that it was the last chance for many years to obtain material and data from the moon. Preliminary review of possible sites produced a clear

consensus of objectives for Apollo 17: to investigate the pre-Imbrian highlands

Photograph of the Taurus-Littrow landing site for Apollo 17 taken by the metric camera on Apollo 15.

The landing site, marked with a white cross, lies between two massifs (north and south).

247
Where No Man Has Gone Before

as far as possible from the Imbrium basin; to sample "young" volcanics; to obtain

photographic and remote-sensor coverage of areas not previously investigated;

and to provide the best coverage for the new traverse geophysics experiments

that were to go along. Application of all these considerations reduced the interesting sites to three: Taurus-Littrow, a region on the southeastern rim of Mare Serenitatis; Gassendi, a large crater on the northern rim of Mare Humorum; and (ranking

a distant third) Alphonsus, previously considered as an alternative to the Descartes site. Of these three, the ad hoc site evaluation committee concluded that

Taurus-Littrow was the best. It was a two-objective site (highlands and young

volcanic material); it offered a reasonable contingency for a walking mission in

case the lunar rover should fail; and it would provide the greatest amount of new

information from the orbital sensors in the service module .74

Operational considerations, taken up at the February meeting of the site selection board, gave no site a clear advantage. Problems existed at all three, although

Alphonsus, already well studied, was acceptable. At Gassendi there was a good

chance that the astronauts would not be able to get to their prime objective if

they had to land beyond the nominal 3-sigma ellipse. For Taurus-Littrow, detailed

studies at first indicated that under "worst-case" conditions the site was unsuitable; the 3-sigma ellipse could not be fitted into it. When trajectory designers were

urged to reconsider their calculations in light of the results of Apollo 15, however, they produced some less conservative numbers and the site was acceptaGeologist Jack Schmitt moves around a huge broken boulder at Taurus-Littrow (Apollo 17). He has

sampled the surface material where scoop marks are visible on the lower left front flank and is preparing

to take more samples. The boulder rolled down from the North Massif.

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248 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
Lunar Exploration Concluded

ble. With operational considerations out of the way, the board picked

Taurus-Littrow because of its greater scientific potential .75

The Taurus-Littrow site was a flat-floored valley some 7 kilometers (4.3 miles)

wide, a dark, bay-like indentation in the broken mountain chain on the eastern

edge of Mare Serenitatis, at 20 degrees 10 minutes north latitude, 30 degrees 46

minutes east longitude. Bounded on three sides by high mountain massifs, the

valley contained numerous craters of possible volcanic origin, as Al Worden had

noted from orbit on Apollo 15.76

Premission data from the landing site indicated it to be geologically complex.

Rock types appeared to vary in age, composition, and probable origin, and the

mountains displayed structural features that might be correlated with several

major landforming events. The valley floor on which Apollo 17 was to land

appeared to be volcanic and thus might have originated deep within the moon.

A landslide intruded on one side of the valley floor, and boulder tracks down

the mountainsides added to scientists' interest in the site .77

Until early 1971 Apollo 17 had been scheduled for June 1972; in February the

launch schedule was revised and both Apollo 16 and 17 were moved forward,

to March and December 1972, respectively . 78 The new launch date for Apollo 17

required one more launch constraint to be lifted, because Taurus-Littrow was not

accessible by translunar injection (departure of the spacecraft and S-IVB from the

earth parking orbit) over the Pacific Ocean. Early in the program Pacific injection

was adopted as the rule, since the alternative—injection over the Atlantic—

required a night launch at some times of the year. Although Atlantic injection

offered an economy in fuel and thus an increase in allowable payload, the potential problems incident to a night launch (see Chapter 6) tipped the scales .71 By

the time the site selection board met in February 1972, however, "the bullet had

been bitten on night launches "80; experience had made those problems much

less worrisome.

So it was that Apollo 17 was scheduled to leave the Cape at 9:38 p.m. EST on

December 6, 1972. 81 From August 8, when the launch vehicle was moved to the

pad, preparations went well. Some minor hardware problems cropped up but

were handled without delaying the schedule. Launch day was bright and warm;

the temperature was in the mid-80s at midafternoon. All looked well for the last

Apollo mission until 30 seconds before launch, when the automatic sequencer—

the oldest and most reliable piece of automation at the launch complex—shut the

system down. The first launch delay in the Apollo program caused by failure of

equipment amounted to 2 hours and 40 minutes while Cape and Marshall Space

Flight Center engineers worked around the malfunction. At 12:33 a.m. Eastern

Standard Time on December 7, command module America and lunar module

Challenger were off for Taurus-Littrow. 82 Flight controllers made up the lost time

during the translunar coast .81

America and Challenger entered lunar orbit on schedule and all preparations for

landing went smoothly. After the two spacecraft separated, Cernan and Schmitt

took a spectacular photograph of their landing site. Three hours later Cernan

powered up Challenger for its descent. It touched down within 200 meters (650

feet) of its targeted landing point amid a field of craters at 3:15 p.m. EST on December 11.84

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

For the next 75 hours Cernan and Schmitt conducted the longest, and in many

ways the most productive, lunar exploration of the Apollo program. During three

trips from their base they laid out the surface experiments, drove the lunar rover

about 36 kilometers (22 miles) in all, ranging as far as 7.37 kilometers (4.5 miles)

from Challenger, and collected roughly 243 pounds (110 kilograms, of soil and rock

samples along with more than 2,000 documentation photographs.8'

Like their predecessors, Cernan and Schmitt were somewhat constrained by

the preplanned sequence of activity. Still, before they left the lunar module and

while unloading the Rover and the surface experiments, Schmitt found time to

give Houston's back-room scientists both large- and small-scale descriptions of

the landing area and the surface under his feet. B6 Schmitt found the environment

in the landing area "superb" for observation: the lighting was excellent and the

rock surfaces generally clean, and he found little difficulty in distinguishing mineralogical and textural differences. For the most part he based his decisions on taking samples on visually detectable differences or similarities.87

Besides collecting and documenting samples, on their traverses the explorers

laid out explosive charges for a seismic profiling experiment (the charges would

be set off after they left), took readings on a portable gravity meter at various

points along the route, and set up an instrument to measure electrical properties

of the lunar surface. At the site for the surface experiments package they drilled

two 2.54-meter (8.3-foot) holes for heat-flow sensors, took a deep core sample,

A view of the lunar orbital experiments in the scientific instrument module of the service module,

taken from lunar module Challenger before it docked with America on return from the lunar surface.

ORIGINAL PACEE

250 BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH
"Rlf' p"t's ' Lunar Exploration Concluded

BLACK

^. PN

Command module pilot Ron Evans outside the spacecraft America, recovering film from the scientific

instrument module (SIM) bay of the service module. The cylindrical object with the handle, near his

knees, is a film cassette.

and set up the geophones (detectors) for the seismic profiling experiment. 88 The

first excursion was largely taken up by these chores.

After an overnight rest and a discussion with Houston concerning plans for

sampling, Cernan and Schmitt set out on their second trip to collect specimens

from boulders along the lower slopes of the South Massif and to sample the lightercolored soil that overlay the western part of the valley. It was a long trip—an hour

by rover to the first major sampling stop—and would stretch their life-support

systems almost to the limit. The last couple of kilometers up the slope taxed the

rover, too, but it brought them to their objective in fine style. Schmitt took samples from three boulders which, as best he could tell, had come from layers visible farther up the South Massif.89

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

The obviously interesting features of their first site prompted Houston to

lengthen their stay there and cut some time from later stops. On their way back

they stopped to take an unscheduled reading on the traverse gravimeter and sampled soil at a couple of crater rims, one of which drew considerable attention.

During routine examination of the surface around the crater called "Shorty,"

Schmitt suddenly called out, "Oh, hey—wait a minute— ... There is orange

soil!" Cernan confirmed it. "He's not going out of his mind. It really is." While

looking for the limits of the orange deposit, Schmitt remarked, "if there ever was

something that looked like fumarole alteration, this is it. "90 He was excited because

orange soil (characteristic of oxidized iron, at least on earth) indicated volcanic

activity, probably recent, a feature not previously discovered on the moon. While

Houston kept reminding them they were almost at the limits of their walk-back

capability—time was running out—they dug a trench, took a core sample and

several scoop samples, and took photographs. Then they mounted the rover to

head back to Challenger. Schmitt talked about his discovery all the way back.91

The last sampling trip of the Apollo program was a traverse to the foot of the

North Massif, where they found two large boulders that had obviously rolled

down from outcrops higher on the mountain; their tracks were visible in the soft

soil. After covering 12 kilometers (7.5 miles) and picking up 63 samples (137

pounds, 62 kilograms), Cernan and Schmitt returned to the lunar module.92

Schmitt picked up a symbolic rock sample in honor of a group of foreign students touring the United States; it would be divided up to provide samples for

each country represented. Then Cernan unveiled a plaque on Challenger's landing strut, which commemorated the completion of the first exploration of the moon

by humans. Then he made some final dedicatory remarks:

This is our commemoration that will be here until someone like us, until some

of you who are out there, who are the promise of the future, come back to

read it again and to further the exploration and the meaning of Apollo.

He then parked the rover at a spot where its television camera could watch their

takeoff, and Apollo's last two explorers finished their last tasks on the moon.

Cernan closed out the surface activity with the comment that "I believe history

will record that America's challenge of today has forged man's destiny of tomorrow. "93 Then they packed up their samples, discarded the tools they would no

longer need, and climbed back into Challenger.94

Next day, December 14, they blasted off to join America in lunar orbit. As television audiences on earth watched, the rover TV camera, directed from Houston, followed their ascent stage until it was out of sight, then slowly scanned

the now-deserted lunar surface. 95 The awareness that no living person was around

made the scene all the more impressive. It was almost possible to hear the silence.

After hooking up with the moon-circling command module, Schmitt and Cernan transferred their samples and data. America still had a day's work to do, completing the photographic and remote-sensing work that Ron Evans had been doing

while his crewmates were on the surface. Their work completed, the crew of

Apollo 17 left the moon with a blast from their service propulsion engine at 8:42

p.m. EST on December 16. A routine transearth coast brought them back to a

landing about 300 kilometers (200 miles) east of Pago Pago at 2:25 p.m. EST on

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ORIGINAL FAGS Lunar Exploration Concluded

BLACK AND VIHiTE PHOTOGRAPH

December 19, 1972. 96 Apollo's exploration of the moon, "one of the most ambitious and successful endeavors of man, "97 was over.

While scientists awaited the samples from Taurus-Littrow, editorial writers

offered varying evaluations of the lunar exploration project. Perhaps the bitterest

farewell to Apollo was expressed by William Hines, syndicated Chicago Sun-Times

columnist, who had opposed the project from the start: "And now, thank God,

the whole crazy business is over. " 98 The Christian Science Monitor cautioned that

"Such technological feats as going to the moon do not absolve people of responsibilities on earth. "99 The New York Times decided that "Man's entire perspective

on the universe and on his place in it has been radically changed. Man evolved

on the earth, but he is no longer chained to it. "loo Time magazine noted that after

the magnificent effort to develop the machines and the techniques to go to the

moon, Americans lost the will and the vision to press on. Apollo's detractors,

said Time, were

prisoners of limited vision who cannot comprehend, or do not care, that Neil

Armstrong's step in the lunar dust will be well remembered when most of

today's burning issues have become mere footnotes to history.lol

Scientist-astronaut Jack Schmitt steps out of the command module America floating in the Pacific

Ocean. The large spherical bags are the uprighting system, which rights the command module if it

lands nose-down. A flotation collar has been attached by the frogmen of the recovery team.

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14

PROJECT APOLLO: THE CONCLUSION

At the start of 1973 scientists eagerly awaited the last samples from the moon.

Apollo was all but forgotten, however, at NASA's manned space flight centers,

which had already shifted gears and were preparing for the next manned projects.

In August 1972, when Apollo 17's Saturn V rolled out of the Vehicle Assembly

Building at Kennedy Space Center, two launch vehicles in adjacent bays were

being prepared for Skylab's first flight, nine months away. Barely a month after

Apollo 17 returned, Skylab program officials completed the design certification

review for modifications required at the launch complex. At Houston, Skylab

crews—officially named in January 1972—had been in training since late 1970.'

Crews for Apollo-Soyuz, the joint mission with the Soviet Union, scheduled for

mid-1975, were named in early February 1973, 2 the same week the first lunar samples from Apollo 17 were released.'

The Manned Spacecraft Center now had nearly 380 kilograms (836 pounds) of

samples from the moon—all the lunar material the scientists could expect to get

for many years. Besides the samples, there was a mass of data from the lunarorbital experiments and a continuing flow of information from the lunar surface

experiments, most of which were still functioning (see Appendix 5). Scientists

now began to concern themselves with the preservation, description, and cataloging of the samples and the provision of adequate support for a continuing program of research.'

Apollo 17 Samples

The Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team met at MSC on January 29 to plan

for allocation of Apollo 17 samples. In keeping with the custom established on

the previous two missions, five key samples were released very early for

age-dating, including the orange soil that had so excited Jack Schmitt. During

February samples were sent to 116 of 185 principal investigators, even before the

preliminary examination was completed, so that some results could be reported

to the fourth Lunar Science Conference scheduled for March.'

Schmitt's selection and documentation of samples taken from the large boulders examined at Taurus-Littrow presented a new problem for the team. Considering that issuing samples to investigators working in isolation would waste

a unique opportunity to study the relationships between different rock types,

the team recommended that each boulder (or set of possibly related boulders)

255 ? . L MIENTIONALLY BLANK
Where No Man Has Gone Before

be examined by a small interdisciplinary group working in close collaboration.

After these groups had examined the samples and extracted as much information as possible, the specimens would be cut up and distributed for study.6

Fourth Lunar Science Conference

The fourth annual lunar science conference convened on March 5, 1973, with

more than 700 scientists in attendance.' NASA's Deputy Administrator, George

Low, opened the four-day meeting by reviewing the Apollo lunar exploration

program and the progress made in understanding of the moon in three and a

half years. He expressed NASA's gratification with the willingness of the scientific community to participate effectively in analyzing the data and planning the

succeeding missions, citing the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning and the

Science Working Panels, the support provided during the missions by the scientists in the back rooms, and the help others had given in training the crews and

selecting sites. Low told the group that NASA was "firmly committed" to continue support of lunar studies based on the Apollo samples.8

Few results from Apollo 17 were presented at the conference, since so little time

had elapsed since the samples were released. One of the first studies had determined that the orange soil, which consisted mostly of tiny beads of brown to

reddish glass of a composition similar to lunar basalts, was probably of volcanic

origin. While it could also be explained as the product of a meteorite impact, the

soil was age-dated at 3.5 to 3.7 billion years, an age that could not be correlated

with any major basin-forming event and therefore with any major impact. 9 Other

papers at the conference reported basic data on the nature, chemistry, and ages

of the Apollo 17 samples that had been released. 10

While analysis of lunar data continued unabated (the proceedings of the fourth

lunar science conference, like those of the three before it, filled three large volumes)

by early 1973 the major constraints to a model of lunar evolution were beginning

to be clear. Geological, geochemical, and geophysical evidence made it clear that

the moon is quite different from the earth in structure and composition and therefore probably in the process of its formation." A coherent picture of the moon's

history gradually emerged over the next few years (see below).

This conference marked the end of Apollo's voyages, and perhaps that was

responsible for the "notable spirit of amity between lunar scientists and NASA's

engineer-managers" that some observers perceived at the meeting. In response

to George Low's acknowledgement of their contributions to Apollo and his pledge

of continuing support for lunar studies, the conferees adopted a motion that

acknowledged some "awkward moments" over the years but praised the space

agency for its overall execution of a project that had "already revolutionized ideas

of the solar system's evolution." In a less formal but probably more meaningful

gesture, a small group of the scientists who had been most intimately involved

in planning the Apollo missions dug into their own pockets to honor selected

NASA managers and engineers at a private banquet. One anonymous scientist

said it was their way of saying thanks to "some of the higher people who played

256
ORIGINAL PAGE Project Apollo: The Conclusion

BLACK AND WHITE PHOTOGRAPH

ball and to some of the lower echelon people—beautiful guys who would come

along at the right time, stand up to their bosses, and help us get an experiment

on board. " 12 It was a considerable change from the prevailing attitude only three

and a half years before (see Chapter 10), but much else had changed in those

years as well.

The New Moon

In 1974, following the fifth lunar science conference, Robert Jastrow* attempted

a brief synthesis of what science had learned from the Apollo studies for the New

York Times. After outlining the gross features of the moon's evolution, he

r 4_

, \

t 1'— - -A 15 LA -17

- 

'I A 12 A 14 j =AThe

-

'°

r.

The Earth-facing side of the moon, showing the locations of the six Apollo landing sites.

*Jastrow, the first director of the Theoretical Division in the Office of Space Sciences (see Chapter

2), later headed NASA's Goddard Institute of Space Studies in New York City.

257
Where No Man Has Gone Before

acknowledged that "Apollo has left at least one great cosmological question unanswered: Where did the moon come from?" For years before Apollo 11 landed,

Jastrow said,

scientists argued the merits of various theories with great intensity, but the

battle ended in a stalemate. Each theory suffered from at least one major defect.

Everyone expected that the lunar landings would promptly settle the debate.

It seemed obvious that as soon as we found out what the moon was made

of, we would be able to tell where it came from: it would have either the same

or different chemistry from that of the earth.

These hopes were not realized. Analysis of the moon rocks has shown

that ... the moon did not come from the earth. But it didn't suggest any alternatives.

The origin of the moon remains as much a mystery as it was before

Apollo. ...13

But if the moon's origin remained mysterious, the early stages in its evolution

became clearer as the results of Apollo science accumulated.

Arriving at a model of lunar evolution was not easy, since so many different

and often unrelated scientific disciplines contributed essential information.

Interpretation of the data from geological studies concerning volcanic activity,

for example, had to be consistent with the seismic scientists' findings about the

moon's internal structure. Heat flow measurements had to be interpreted in light

of the geochemical abundances of radioactive elements. Gerald J. Wasserburg,

professor of geology and geophysics at Caltech, who participated in the lunar

studies from the beginning, commented that this required most investigators to

change their approach to science. For the most part, Wasserburg said, they had

come to the first lunar science conference as specialists, "without any conception of the relationship of their particular observations to the global problems of

a planet." As the work proceeded, however, "specialists began to recognize the

interrelationships between their own work and studies done by other individuals

in completely different fields. So a broader, truer planetary science [began) to

emerge. 1114

Before Apollo 11, considerable information about the moon had been available—

principally its physical characteristics, but including some basic chemical facts

as well. 15 For many years it had been known that the moon was only 60 percent

as dense as the earth (3.3 grams per cubic centimeter as against 5.5 for the earth)

and that its rotational properties were almost identical with those of a homogeneous sphere. In the 1960s, space probes yielded more information. Surveyors V,

VI, and VII carried instruments that measured the proportions of key chemical

elements in the lunar surface. They showed that the maria were different from

the highlands and that the moon was chemically different from both the earth

and the (presumed) primordial material of the solar system. The terrestrial material most closely resembling the maria was basalt, an igneous rock, indicating the

maria had been flooded with molten rock that had later solidified. Geochemists

deduced from its density that the lunar basalt could not represent the average

composition of the entire moon, which allowed the inference that the moon was

not homogeneous.

258
Project Apollo: The Conclusion

Later, the Lunar Orbiters returned photographs that showed the moon's hidden side to be topographically quite different from the visible side. Besides providing information essential to the selection of Apollo landing sites, Orbiter

photographs contained a wealth of geological clues. They convinced geologists

that at least some of the moon's surface features had been produced by volcanic

activity. Analysis of the spacecrafts' orbits provided evidence for anomalous concentrations of mass ("mascons") under some of the maria, suggesting that the

lunar crust was thicker and more rigid than was previously supposed. Had the

crust been more plastic, the mascons would have settled deeper into it over geologic time, eliminating the gravitational anomalies that affected Lunar Orbiter V.

Thus the outer layer of the moon had been cold and rigid for a very long period,

yet lava flows large enough to fill the basins had occurred as well. This too implied

a nonuniform structure for the moon and probably a complex evolutionary history.

To this sketchy body of knowledge about the moon Apollo contributed an overwhelming flood of new information, out of which scientists began to contruct

new models, some to be discarded quickly, others to be modified and retained.

The geophysical data may have been the easiest to integrate into a coherent picture. Apollo's four seismometers detected infrequent, weak tremors originating

within the moon, at depths of 800 to 1,100 kilometers (500 to 700 miles), much

deeper than those on earth. Forty-three moonquake zones were identified, each

showing periodic activity correlated with lunar tides. Artificial seismic events

(impacts of LM ascent stages and spent S-IVB stages)—plus the fortuitous collisions of a large (1,100 kilograms, 2,400 pounds) meteorite with the

moon16—produced signals that suggested a crust about 60 kilometers (37 miles)

thick, overlying a different homogeneous layer extending down to about 1,000

kilometers (625 miles). Deeper still a partially molten core may exist, which, assuming it to be a silicate rock, would be at a temperature of about 1,500° (2,700 °F).

Results from the laser altimeters carried on Apollo 15 and 16 confirmed that

the moon's center of mass does not coincide with its geometrical center. Some

scientists suggested this was due to the presence of the low-lying maria on the

near side. Others suggested that the crust on the far side was thicker than that

on the near side, which would make the absence of maria on the far side easier

to explain: a thicker crust could have prevented the extrusion of molten material

except in the very deepest craters, such as Tsiolkovsky.17

Geological and geochemical data were harder to interpret; only the broadest

general conclusions could be stated after Apollo 17. The returned samples showed

that the moon was chemically different from the earth, containing a smaller

proportion of volatile elements (those that are driven off at low to moderate temperatures) and more radioactive elements than the cosmic average. Geochemical

evidence indicated that three types of rocks predominate on the lunar surface:

basalts rich in iron covering the maria; plagioclase or aluminum-rich anorthosites

characteristic of the highlands; and uranium- and thorium-rich basalts that also

contain high proportions of potassium, rare-earth elements, and phosphorus

("KREEP" basalts). Some scientists felt, however, that these could not represent

the structure and texture of the primordial lunar rocks; it seemed likely that those

characteristics had been virtually obliterated in the massive bombardment that

the moon has obviously undergone.1'

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

In spite of the difficulties, scientists—as is their habit—began to formulate models

for lunar evolution as soon as the first results became available. Each successive

mission brought a surprise, however, and it was only after Apollo 15 that the

broad outlines of the moon's history emerged fairly clearly.19

The oldest rocks found on the moon appear to have been chemically assembled around 4.5 billion years ago, in the late stages of formation of the solar system. How the materials of the moon came together is still an unanswered question;

the evidence indicates that the moon aggregated out of the debris left over from

the formation of the sun. According to a widely held view, it was never completely molten; only its outer layer, perhaps to a depth of 320 kilometers (200

miles, roughly one-fifth of its radius) was melted. This sea of molten rock, agitated

by a continuing rain of fragments, lost its heat to space and began to solidify.

As it did so, different minerals crystallized at different temperatures. Convection

currents set up by cooling at the surface brought deeper, hotter material to the

surface and at least partially remelted the surface crust. As cooling continued,

crystals of different composition separated, giving rise to the chemical segregation observed in the lunar crust. Eventually, probably after some 200 million years,

a rigid crust of considerable thickness formed, composed mostly of light-colored

minerals rich in calcium and aluminum (plagioclase). Beneath the crust a mantle

of iron- and magnesium-rich material settled, consisting predominantly of the

minerals pyroxene and olivine. At the center of the moon a core of dense, partially melted material may have formed, rich in iron and sulfur. The presence

of a semiliquid core is indicated by the behavior of seismic waves passing through

the moon and by the presence of residual magnetism in lunar rocks: at some time

in the past, it appears, the moon had a magnetic field (thought to be produced

by a liquid metallic core) which has since almost entirely vanished.

For perhaps 300 million years after the crust formed, fragments of primordial

material, some of them 50 to 100 kilometers (30 to 60 miles) in diameter, pelted

the moon. The impacts caused local melting of the crust and chemical alteration

of the original material, scattered debris over thousands of square miles of the

moon's surface, and fractured the crust to a considerable depth.

Below the solidified crust the moon's mantle remained partially molten, owing

to the insulating properties of the crust and also probably to considerable heating by disintegration of radioactive elements (uranium and thorium). Toward the

end of the massive bombardment period, from around 4.1 to 3.9 billion years

ago, the large basins (Imbrium, Serenitatis, Crisium) were gouged out, probably

by objects almost as large as planets. This was followed by episodic flows of basaltic material into the basins, filling them to approximately their present levels. The

youngest igneous (heat-formed) rock so far found on the moon is 3.16 billion years

old, but major surface manifestations of internal lunar heat may not have stopped

for another two billion years.

This generalized picture of the moon's history has changed little in the years

since the end of Apollo. Subsequent study has extended the onset of mare volcanism backward in time somewhat, and its duration is now thought to have been

considerably longer. It has been recognized that many of the craters saturating

the highlands are secondary, having been produced by large fragments thrown

out by impacting objects. The need to understand lunar craters (and, in subse260
Project Apollo: The Conclusion

quent years, those on other celestial bodies, e.g., Mercury, Mars, and the satellites of Jupiter and Saturn) has stimulated interest in the mechanics of crater

formation, leading to laboratory studies using high-velocity particles. Finally, the

impact theory of the moon's origin has recently been revived, with modifications.

Collision of an object the size of Mars with earth has been computer modeled

and found to be not unattractive. Newer thinking about the origin of the moon

considers that more than one process may have contributed significantly, that

is, collision followed by accretion of additional material by both bodies. As yet,

the available evidence does not permit a clear-cut choice among the various postulates.20

So far as the Apollo results have shown, the moon's surface has undergone

no large-scale changes for something like 3 billion years. Continuous slow erosion of large features by the impacts of small meteoroids has added to the dust

layer on its surface, now and then a substantial meteoroid has produced another

crater, and occasionally a boulder, dislodged by an internal tremor or an external

shock, has rolled down a slope, leaving its track in the dust. Today the moon

looks very much as it looked to the first humans, and it must have changed very

little since the age of the dinosaurs.

The Scientific Accomplishments of Apollo

The importance of Apollo in the advancement of planetology is self-evident.

If only a single manned landing had been accomplished, the return of samples

from another body in the solar system would have established Apollo as a milestone in the history of science. That the project was only a beginning goes without saying; it could hardly have been anything else. As Gerald Wasserburg wrote

after Apollo 15, because the Apollo missions had all been targeted for areas that

are not representative of the most widespread lunar surface features, "even on

a coarse scale, we must consider the Moon as unexplored [italics in the original.]"21

The last two missions filled important gaps without altering the basic truth of

this assessment. But even if all ten missions could have been flown as originally

planned, they could not have adequately sampled an area as large as the moon

and as heterogeneous as it turned out to be.

The materials returned by Apollo have not fulfilled the early hopes of the most

optimistic scientists: that they would yield an understanding of the origin and

evolution of the moon, the earth, and the solar system. This is no reflection on

Apollo; those hopes—unrealistic, as it turned out—were based on excessive optimism and inadequate firm knowledge about the moon. "As is natural," Wasserburg commented, "the paucity of data did not inhibit the scientific community

from either serious thought or rampant speculation on the origin of the Moon.

The Apollo missions proved most of the speculation wrong. " 22 It was apparent

after Apollo 12 that the moon's surface was far more complex than most cosmologists had suspected, and hopes for an explanation of the moon's origin rapidly

waned. Whether the origin of the moon can ever be deduced from the Apollo

samples is still an open question.

But whatever its shortcomings with respect to some hypothetical ideal, Apollo

produced a store of scientific treasure whose value, although recognized, has only

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

begun to be exploited by the scientific community. The lunar samples were, in

Wasserburg's words, "the crown jewels of the scientific return of the Apollo missions." Before 1969 the only samples of extraterrestrial material known on earth

were meteorites, which, as Wasserburg wrote, were less than satisfactory: they

"come from unknown sources [and] were often terribly abused. [Yet] A large

fraction of all human knowledge about the origin and age of the solar system ... has been derived from the study of these objects." 23 The Apollo samples changed all that. It seems probable that nothing like them will be available

for many years to come.

No other effort to explore the moon compares with Apollo, although all added

to the scientific knowledge of the moon. Ranger, which produced photographs

showing craters and rocks as small as 1 meter (3 feet) in size, clarified some of

the uncertainty about the nature of the lunar surface. 24 The five Surveyor spacecraft, which landed in different types of terrain, carried instruments that demonstrated differences in the chemical makeup of lunar soil and identified the soil

as "basaltic." Results from Surveyor allowed scientists to infer that the moon's

interior was different from its surface.21

That unmanned samplers could be useful in lunar exploration was proved by

Soviet space scientists, who sent two unmanned explorers (Luna 16, landed September 20, 1970, and returned to earth September 24, and Luna 20, landed February 22, 1972, returned February 25). Each returned approximately 100 grams (3

ounces) of lunar soil from the eastern edge of Mare Fecunditatis.* 26 In bringing

back selected and documented samples from six Iocations on the moon, however, Apollo far surpassed all other efforts in whatever terms are used for comparison. Furthermore, the Apollo samples now stored on earth allow lunar

research to continue, based on new concepts and using improved techniques and

instruments. New concepts of the moon will be restricted only by the limited number of sites from which samples were taken.

Major Issues in Apollo

Science in the Project

Most of the issues over which NASA and the external science community wrangled grew out of the necessity to define, virtually from scratch, the scientific content of lunar exploration. One lunar scientist pinpointed the difficulty in

midprogram:

... Apollo 11 marked the beginning of a new generation of lunar

science.... born in the hot arc of one of the greatest technical achievements

in the history of society. Full recognition of, and attention to, the scientific aspects

*In 1976 one more Luna (Luna 24) returned a much larger sample from the southern edge of Mare

Crisium in the moon's northeastern quadrant. Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1976, A Chronology, NASA

SP-4021 (Washington, 1984) pp. 182-83.

262
Project Apollo: The Conclusion

of the mission wterel for some time lost in the management and excitement of the larger

enterprise both by NASA and an insufficiently involved and unprepared scientific community [emphasis added].27

To appreciate why attention to the scientific potential of Apollo was neglected

for so long, it is necessary only to recall where the nation's manned space flight

program stood at the time President Kennedy issued his challenge:

When lunar landing became the Apollo objective in May 1961, the United

States had only 15 minutes of manned flight experience in space and a tentative plan for a spacecraft that might be able to circumnavigate the moon. No

rocket launch vehicle was available for a lunar voyage and no route (mode)

agreed on for placing any kind of spacecraft safely on the lunar surface and

getting it back to earth. Nor was there agreement within NASA itself on how

it should be done .28

Given those circumstances, it is easy to understand the reaction of one on whom

much of the responsibility would fall:

Acutely aware that NASA's total manned space flight experience was limited

to one ballistic flight and that he was being asked to commit men to a 14-day

trip to the moon and back, [MSC Director] Robert Gilruth said he was simply

aghast.29

It can hardly be doubted that Gilruth's reaction was shared by his line engineers

at the Manned Spacecraft Center—and by managers in the Office of Manned Space

Flight as well. The 8- or 9-year time limit given them by Kennedy* would have

daunted even the most optimistic engineer who was familiar with the state of

the art in aerospace engineering and the complexities of a moon landing. Charged

with that responsibility, they had to put first things first, and their single-minded

concentration on essentials left science with a low priority. No evidence has been

found that Bob Gilruth and his engineers actively opposed the incorporation of

science into Apollo. They knew that it would have been absurd to land men on

the moon if they did not at least leave their spacecraft to explore the surface—

and, if possible, collect samples and emplace scientific instruments.

Still, the feeling developed among some scientists that MSC was obstructive

toward science, and as much as anything else, the Houston center's narrow focus

on nonscientific aspects of the program was responsible. Homer Newell, associate administrator for space science, knew well that MSC could be difficult to deal

with, but he could at least perceive a reason for it:

[MSC's] need to be meticulously careful in the development and operation

of hardware for manned spaceflight, plus [the center's] general disinterest in

the objectives of space science as the scientists saw them, led to extreme difficulties in working with the scientific community .30

Not that other branches of NASA found the scientific community easy to work

with. In its early days the space agency skirmished more than once with the

*The phrase, "before this decade is out," was deliberately chosen by the President to allow for

some flexibility of interpretation. It could without serious equivocation be construed as meaning either

1969 or 1970. See Theodore C. Sorenson, Kennedy (New York: Harper & Row, 1965), p. 525.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

National Academy of Sciences and its Space Science Board over the question of

who should decide the content of the space programs. The executive director of

the Space Science Board went so far as to urge that NASA rely exclusively on

the outside scientific community for its science program, which would effectively

have reduced NASA's role to providing launch vehicles and operational support

for science (besides, of course, financing the experimenters). Newell later recalled

that gradually a working arrangement evolved putting NASA "in the driver's

seat, [with] the scientific community serving as navigator, so to speak, ... with

a mixture of tension and cooperation that is best described as a love-hate relationship. "31

Science would eventually become the navigator for lunar exploration as well,

but only after the primary objective had been attained. During the early years

the Manned Spacecraft Center at least made some significant gestures toward

eventual accommodation of science, establishing an office to coordinate experiments, providing space in the lunar module to carry scientific equipment, 32 and

starting to train astronauts in the principles of field geology. It was less concerned

with developing a full program of lunar exploration. MSC, in fact, could do little

in that regard, because strategic planning for lunar exploration was the responsibility of the Office of Space Sciences and Applications (OSSA) at Headquarters.

For a considerable time following the establishment of Apollo, no organized

lunar and planetary science lobby existed. So in formulating a program of lunar

science, OSSA first sought statements of broad objectives from ad hoc groups,

such as the Sonett committee, which established the basic criteria for science on

the Apollo missions in 1962 and the training required for astronauts to execute

the science program (see Chapter 2). Considered and endorsed in principle at

the 1962 Summer Study at the State University of Iowa, these criteria were then

used by discipline-oriented planning teams to define specific scientific investigations. By mid-1964 these teams had listed the experiments expected to be the most

productive—some to be conducted on the moon, some to be done on returned

samples, and some to be carried out by instruments left on the lunar surface (see

Chapter 3).

In 1965, the Summer Study at Woods Hole, Massachusetts, sharpened the focus

by formulating 15 key questions about the moon that lunar science studies should

be designed to answer. Following the Woods Hole sessions, a study group met

at nearby Falmouth to make the first attempt to explicitly define an evolutionary

program of lunar science for the next 10 to 15 years (see Chapter 3 and Appendix

3). The Falmouth report became the basis for much of the planning that followed.33

Thus while the Manned Spacecraft Center was working toward its primary aim

of landing people on the moon, OSSA was preparing the ground for the scientific work to be done when they got there. In 1966, after years of encouragement

from Headquarters, MSC established a Science and Applications Directorate,

which assumed much of the responsibility for Apollo science and, more important to the science community, put a research scientist into the management structure at MSC (see Chapter 6). The new office had no significant effect on Apollo

plans immediately, but its influence was to become stronger as the project went on.

One of the first actions taken by Wilmot N. Hess, MSC's first Director of Science

and Applications, was to convoke a summer study to translate the plans devised

at Falmouth into scientific requirements for Apollo exploration: mission duration,

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Project Apollo: The Conclusion

lunar surface mobility, and scientific use of the command module in lunar orbit.

Participants did their job well: in the preface to their report Homer Newell noted

that "the plans are optimistic and exceed the capability of the agency to execute. "3'

Even so, the most important recommendations that came out of the 1967 study

at Santa Cruz (see Appendix 3) were carried out on the Apollo missions as soon

as the required engineering and operational changes could be incorporated into

the system.

Few questions were as important in the ultimate success of Apollo as making

certain that the external science community had a voice in the planning of the

missions. In the summer of 1967 Wilmot Hess created three science teams that

would operate throughout the duration of the project: the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning (superseded in 1970 by the Science Working Panel), the Lunar

Sample Analysis Planning Team and the Lunar Sample Preliminary Examination Team. The specific responsibilities of these groups were probably not more

significant than their role in promoting cooperation between MSC and the science

community. Establishment of the two teams concerned with lunar samples placed

responsibility for sample distribution in the hands of scientists; the Group for

Lunar Exploration Planning was intended to reassure scientists that their concerns were at least being considered in developing plans for later missions.

Yet when the first lunar landing mission succeeded in bringing back nearly 50

pounds (21 kilograms) of lunar samples for study, some scientists once more went

public with the complaints that NASA was "not responsive to the needs of

science" (see Chapter 10). It is not easy to determine exactly what was meant

by this charge, expressed as it was in such general terms. Nor is it easy to grant

it much validity, considering that NASA began, immediately after Apollo 11, to

incorporate some of the high-priority improvements in the Apollo system suggested by the Santa Cruz conference—the lunar roving vehicle, the extended lunar

module, and modifications of mission plans to accommodate larger payloads—

all of which would improve the scientific return. Trajectory designers at MSC

set out to improve the landing accuracy of the second mission, explicitly if not

solely for the benefit of science. What more NASA could have done for science

in Apollo, short of turning the program over to scientists, is difficult to imagine.

The complaining scientists overlooked or ignored the fact that manned space

flight officials could not be certain that the first attempt at a lunar landing would

succeed. (Michael Collins, command module pilot on Apollo 11, confessed that

on launch day he would not have given better than even odds that the whole

complex mission would be carried out without a failure. 35 ) That being true, it was

not prudent to begin modifying the spacecraft before the first landing was accomplished. * If Neil Armstrong had been forced to abort his landing, George Mueller,

*MSC's refusal to anticipate scientific requirements and modify the spacecraft to accommodate them

was one of the scientists' most serious complaints. The head of the Experimental Planetology Branch,

Solar System Exploration Division, at Johnson Space Center pointed out in criticizing the draft of

this book that "It require[d] at least a year of lead time for even the simplest of new ideas to be

introduced into a program as complicated as Apollo. Therefore, waiting until after the first one or

two successful landings to begin accommodating the scientists' wishes was guaranteed to delay any

implementation for a long time." He also cited Gilruth's waiting until early 1970 to work out MSC's

differences with the scientific community as a similar source of irritation for scientists. Wm. C. Phin265
Where No Man Has Gone Before

chief of manned space flight, was prepared to send missions to the moon at the

shortest intervals launch teams could manage until someone landed on the moon

and returned safely to earth before the decade of the 1960s was out. As soon as

that was done, Mueller urged MSC Director Bob Gilruth to do his best to accommodate science. Gilruth's response, following the first lunar science conference

in January 1970, was to bring his principal lieutenants and a group of leading

scientists to the table to work out their major differences, with the result that

scientists' input to the later missions was effective and satisfying to the scientists

(see Chapter 11).

Scientists as Astronauts; Astronauts as Scientists

An issue that sharply divided the scientists and manned space flight officials

from first to last was the question of whether a scientist should go to the moon.

Even before they knew what the lunar surface was like, scientists took it for

granted that only one of their fraternity could properly conduct a scientific survey while on the moon. Analogously, Deke Slayton, Director of Flight Crew Operations at MSC and the man most responsible for assigning crews to missions,

was confident that only an experienced test pilot thoroughly familiar with spacecraft systems could be depended upon to react correctly in whatever emergency

might develop during a landing. The scientists seem to have felt that piloting

a spacecraft was a skill much like driving a car and could be learned by any

reasonably intelligent person in a comparatively short time. 36 Slayton considered

it easier to teach an astronaut a few basic scientific tasks than to make a pilot

out of a scientist37—hence if either skill took precedence, it should be piloting.

Both were right and both were wrong. If lunar explorers had only a little time

on the moon, science would be best served if one of the crew was a scientist of

considerable experience who could make the most of what little he could see and

do. On the other hand, an emergency in a lunar mission might leave no time

for conscious thought. The ability to take the proper action instinctively would

be expected of an experienced test pilot but might be difficult to instill into a person having little experience of acting decisively in emergencies.

As long as spacecraft were regarded as experimental rather than operational,

Slayton's view—shared by Bob Gilruth—prevailed, modified by the addition of

some basic instruction in geology to the astronaut training program. Eventually

MSC yielded on the point of accepting scientists for astronaut training, but did

so with the stipulation that they must also qualify as jet pilots, if necessary by

taking flying training before starting in the astronaut program.

ney to William Waldrip, "Review of Apollo History," Mar. 31, 1987. The point is certainly valid,

but it presumes, as scientists typically did, that science should have taken precedence as early as

Apollo 12. The present author does not agree. The last 21/2 years before Apollo 11 were spent recovering from the AS-204 fire, which totally occupied spacecraft engineers and program managers. Problems with the lunar module lingered through 1968. To have begun modifying the untried lunar module

to suit the purposes of science a year or more before the first lunar flight would have been to invite

trouble.

266
Project Apollo: The Conclusion

Fortunately, an astronaut's ability to react appropriately in a time-critical emergency was never really tested in Apollo.* No lunar module pilot ever had to

take over from a disabled commander during a lunar landing or had to bring back

a lunar module from the moon alone. Whether a scientist, properly trained, could

have performed as well as a test pilot was never determined. For what it is worth,

Jack Schmitt was sure that he could have done it, and his commander, Gene Cernan, was satisfied to have Schmitt along.

On the other hand, 11 of the 12 men who walked the moon were pilots who

did have to play the role of scientist, at least to a limited degree, in selecting lunar

samples. As might be expected, their performance varied, but at least publicly

none of the scientists ever seriously faulted the results. Jack Schmitt, who took

an active interest in geology training before he was assigned to Apollo 17, later

rated the performance of the crews as generally good:

We got excellent sampling, we got excellent photography.... but until Apollo

17 we did not get very much good, solid descriptive work, with one exception—

that exception being Neil Armstrong.... He was probably the best observer

we sent to the moon, in spite of very limited training; he just had a knack for it.38

The best-prepared crew, in terms of time spent in preparation for exploration,

was that of Apollo 15. Scott, Irwin, and Worden put in more training sessions

on lunar surface operations than any crew (see Appendix 7), and, with Jack

Schmitt on their backup crew, they had more tutoring than the others as well.

Dave Scott took a special interest in the lunar science, 39 and it paid off; Apollo

15 was acclaimed at the time as the most productive mission yet flown (see Chapter

13) and, except for Schmitt's descriptive work on Apollo 17, was not surpassed

by the last two missions. The scientists' delight with the results of Apollo 15 may

have been influenced by the fact that it was the first of the extended missions,

with all the extra work that allowed, but that does not detract from the performance of Scott and Irwin.

Whether all the missions would have benefited from the presence of a geologist was not settled in Apollo. By the time Jack Schmitt flew on Apollo 17 it had

become clear that geological clues were not as obvious on the lunar surface as

they are on earth. Possibly an experienced field geologist could have found more

than the astronauts did. Still, the conditions of working on the moon (i.e., limited

time and the restrictions on mobility and dexterity imposed by the space suit)

suggest that the advantage would not have been as great as some believed. A

longer program might have provided more time for that kind of work, but by

the time the missions began to fly, scientific emphasis had shifted away from

the field and into the laboratory.

Apollo experience provided no final answer to the question of the relative capabilities of scientists and astronauts in space exploration. Manned space flight programs later evolved to the point where specialists of both kinds could go into

space, so the debate has lost some of the relevance it had before Apollo.

'Apollo 13 was indeed an emergency, but the responsibility for saving the mission was in the hands

of experts on the ground. The success of the rescue did not depend on the crew's ability to act swiftly

in a critical situation.

267
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Lunar Sample Management and Quarantine

Early in Apollo geoscientists at MSC recognized that the samples collected on

the moon required special handling to avoid contamination. The extreme sensitivity of some methods of chemical analysis* made it necessary to exclude all earthborne traces of the substance being sought, if the analysis was to be valid. Ideally,

lunar sample containers would have been sealed on the moon and their contents

kept in the highest possible vacuum until they reached the laboratory where they

were to be investigated. Practically, preserving the vacuum and avoiding contamination while examining and dividing the samples was extremely difficult.

So it proved in the Lunar Receiving Laboratory (LRL); although systems and

procedures for manipulating sensitive materials in a protective enclosure were

well known, they proved less than completely satisfactory for handling the lunar

samples. The heavy gloves used to manipulate specimens inside the vacuum system leaked; contamination proved unavoidable; and scientists soon abandoned

the use of the vacuum system except for those samples that absolutely required

it. Instead, an atmosphere of chemically inert and noncontaminating gas (nitrogen) was used (see Chapter 9).

The most troublesome requirement imposed on the management of lunar samples, however, was biological containment. From the construction of the LRL to

the conduct of mission operations, the requirement to prevent contact between

the earth's biosphere and the objects and persons who had been to the moon

made Apollo more costly and more complex.

The added cost and complexity were unavoidable after a conference sponsored

by the Space Science Board issued a formal statement in 1965 that the earth must

be protected from back-contamination by any organisms that might be brought

back from the moon (see Chapter 4). The cult of extraterrestrial life, although lacking the smallest shred of positive scientific evidence to support it, had many followers among scientists and the public. 40 NASA could not refute such a warning,

nor could it afford to ignore it. What if the believers were right? Granted the

infinitesimal probability that living organisms existed on the moon, and the real

question of whether they might survive on earth and be dangerous, the consequences of releasing them on earth were so potentially enormous that the chance

could not be taken.

So, without enthusiasm but at considerable expense, MSC built the Lunar

Receiving Laboratory with provisions for two-way biological containment

(preventing biological contamination of the samples and the escape of contaminants from the samples into the laboratory) and modified recovery procedures to isolate spacecraft and astronauts from the earth's biosphere. As the

system was finally implemented, one serious gap remained: the crew would leave

the command module by opening the hatch and clambering into the recovery

raft. MSC refused to consider hoisting the returned spacecraft aboard ship with

the astronauts inside or to add a biological filter to the post-landing ventilation

system. The Interagency Committee on Back Contamination objected, but MSC

*Carbon compounds, for example—possible relics of extinct life or precursors of life on the moon—

could be detected if present to the extent of a few parts per billion.

268
Project Apollo: The Conclusion

held firm, on the grounds that crew safety would be imperiled. The committee

settled for biological isolation garments and application of a biocide to the

spacecraft.

In the event, the precautions proved unnecessary and quarantine was abandoned after the third lunar landing, Apart from the expense, quarantine was irksome to engineers and scientists alike, for it impeded postflight debriefings and

delayed the release of samples to principal investigators. In any case, quarantine

was not intended to be absolute: the second guideline governing procedures

stated, "the preservation of human life should take precedence over the maintenance of quarantine." If a command module had begun to sink during recovery operations, or if a major fire had broken out in the crew quarters of the

receiving laboratory, or if a quarantined astronaut had suffered a medical emergency that could not be handled within the LRL, quarantine would have been

broken .41

The results of biological and chemical examination of the returned lunar samples indicated that life never has existed on the moon—or at least that it left no

traces at the sites examined. As did the data returned from Mars by the Viking

landers a few years later, the Apollo results showed that the only conclusion that

can be reached at present concerning the existence of life elsewhere in our solar

system is, "not proven."

Project Apollo: Stunt or Portent?

A decade and a half after Eugene Cernan left the last human footprint on the

moon, the value and the wisdom of the Apollo project can still be debated. As

an engineering accomplishment it is unparalleled in history. As a scientific project it enabled researchers on earth to study documented specimens from another

body in the solar system, perhaps the only such specimens that will be available

in this century. As an exercise in the management of an unprecedentedly large

and complex effort it stands alone in human experience.

Yet all these achievements can be read two ways. Magnificent as they were,

the launch vehicles that carried men to the moon turned out to be too expensive

for other missions. The choice of lunar-orbit rendezvous as the mission mode—

largely dictated by the end-of-the-decade challenge—produced two spacecraft

ideally adapted to their function but without sufficient margin for growth to

advance the exploration of the moon as far as scientists wanted. Apollo's scientific results were of vital interest to only a very small fraction of the scientific community and did not authoritatively answer the questions scientists hoped they

would answer before the first landing. (As one critic caustically commented, the

scientists were able to obtain "a neater fix, so to speak, on the number of angels

who can dance on the point of a pin. "42) The methods devised for managing

Apollo were impressive; yet the question remains,

Has the whole operation represented but another highly successful one-shot

exercise in crisis management, or has it represented incorporation into American

society of a new way to organize, systematically and purposefully, the development and use of scientific and technological resources to the furtherance of

national goals ?43

269
Where No Man Has Gone Before

James Webb, under whose direction NASA developed those methods, believed

them to be the lasting contribution of Apollo, but in the 18 years since the first

lunar landing they have not been applied to any undertaking of comparable size.

It was unfortunate, in a sense, for the United States's space program that

Kennedy's challenge called for NASA to proceed directly to the most difficult

goal that seemed achievable in 1961, for it doomed whatever followed to be an

anticlimax:

The first Apollo landing was, in one sense, a triumph that failed, not because the achievement was anything short of magnificent but because of misdirected expectations and

a general misinterpretation of its real meaning. The public was encouraged to view

it only as the grand climax of the space program, a geopolitical horse race and extraterrestrial entertainment—not as a dramatic means to the greater end of developing a (arranging spacefaring capability [italics in the original]. 44

Americans had plenty to occupy their attention in 1969—civil rights, the plight

of the poor, an increasingly unpopular war in southeast Asia, rising federal

deficits, and growing concern for the preservation of a livable environment—and

plenty of advocates for every cause clamoring for action. If the nation had not

set its space goals as high as possible at the outset, the concerns of the late 1960s

could easily have stopped a more measured approach well short of the moon.

Future generations may look back on Apollo as a costly technological stunt or

the portent of man's destiny in the universe. Scientists studying the origin and

evolution of the solar system may devise other means of acquiring data from the

moon and the planets, but they will surely be thankful for the samples gathered

by the twelve men who made the first lunar voyages.

270
SOURCE NOTES

CHAPTER 1

1. U.S., Congress, House, Toward the Endless Frontier: History of the Committee on Science and Technology, 1959-1979 (Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1980), p. 269. This history was

written by Ken Hechler, a Ph.D. historian and author of books on political and military history,

who served on the House Committee on Science and Technology for 18 years beginning in 1959.

2. Homer E. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA SP-4211 (Washington, 1980), pp. 87-99. Newell joined NASA in 1958 as director of the space science program, became

Associate Administrator for Space Science (later Space Science and Applications) in 1961 and

Associate Administrator in 1967. He retired in 1973 and died in 1984. See also Arnold S. Levine,

Managing NASA in the Apollo Era, NASA SP-4102 (Washington, 1982), pp. 9-17, and Robert L.

Rosholt, An Administrative History of NASA, 1958-1963, NASA SP-4101 (Washington, 1966), pp.

37-47.

3. Rosholt, Administrative History, pp. 45-47. For a history of JPL's Ranger project, see R. Cargill

Hall, Lunar Impact: A History of Project Ranger, NASA SP-4210 (Washington, 1977).

4. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, pp. 104-105.

5. Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., James M. Grimwood, and Charles C. Alexander, This New Ocean: A History of Project Mercury, NASA SP-4201 (Washington, 1966), pp. 55-65. The NACA-NASA research

in high-speed flight is treated in Richard Hallion's On the Frontier: A History of the Dryden Flight

Research Facility, NASA SP-4303 (Washington, 1984).

6. Swenson, Grimwood, and Alexander, This New Ocean, p. 73.

7. Ibid., pp. 99-102.

8. Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), pp. 4, 52-53.

9. Roger E. Bilstein, Stages to Saturn: A Technological History of the Apollo/Saturn Launch Vehicles, NASA

SP-4206 (Washington, 1980), pp. 26-42.

10. Documents on International Aspects of the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, 1954-1962, staff report

prepared for the Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences (Washington, 1963), p. 188;

the quote is from Eisenhower's annual budget message to Congress, Jan. 18, 1961.

11. "Report to the President-Elect of the Ad Hoc Committee on Space," Jerome B. Weisner, chmn.,

(classified version), Jan. 12, 1961, p. 10.

12. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 7-17.

13. John M. Logsdon, The Decision to Go to the Moon: Project Apollo and the National Interest (Cambridge,

Mass.: MIT Press, 1970), pp. 108-109, 112-115.

14. President's Science Advisory Committee, Introduction to Outer Space (Washington, 1968), p. 6.

15. James R. Killian, address to the M.I.T. Club of New York, Dec. 13, 1960; quoted in Logsdon,

Decision, p. 20.

16. Space Science Board of the National Academy of Sciences-National Research Council, "Man's

Role in the National Space Program," reprinted in Senate, Committee on Aeronautical and Space

Sciences, National Space Goals for the Post-Apollo Period, 89th Cong., 1st sess. (henceforth 89/1),

1965, pp. 242-43.

17. Logsdon, Decision, p. 86.

18. James E. Webb and Robert S. McNamara, memo to the President, "Recommendations for our

National Space Program: Changes, Policies, Goals," May 8, 1961.

19. Logsdon, Decision, pp. 127-28.

20. Ibid., p. 129.

21. Ibid.

22. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, P. 31.

23. Robert Colby Nelson, "Full Moon Debate," Christian Science Monitor, June 14, 1961.

271
Where No Man Has Gone Before

24. Hall, Lunar Impact, pp. 10 -12.

25. House, Subcommittee on Space Sciences and Applications of the Committee on Science and

Astronautics, 1965 NASA Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 9641, 88/2, part 3, pp. 1897-98. See

also Hechler, Toward the Endless Frontier, pp. 541-42.

26. For a study of the changing relationships between science and government before and after World

War II, see Daniel S. Greenberg, The Politics of Pure Science (New York: The New American Library,

Inc., 1967).

27. Ibid., p. 288.

28. National Academy of Sciences-National Research Council, A Review of Space Research, NAS/NRC

Publication 1079 (Washington, 1962), pp. 1-21 to 1-22; see also Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, pp.

208-209.

29. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, p. 386.

30. See, for example: Webb's address to the Greater Hartford (Conn.) Chamber of Commerce, Oct.

1, 1962, cited in Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 1962, NASA Report to the House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 88/1 (Washington, 1963), p. 206; Webb's address to the Northeast Commerce and Industry Exposition, Boston, Oct. 2, 1962, ibid., p. 207; Hugh L. Dryden,

letter to Sen. Robert S. Kerr, chmn., Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, cited

in Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 1961, NASA Report to the House Committee on Science

and Astronautics, 87/2 (Washington, 1962), p. 28. While program office officials covered details

of the current programs' budgets and plans with congressional subcommittees, Webb and Dryden

consistently stressed the broader aims of the programs before the full committees. Consult the

various House and Senate committee hearings on NASA authorization bills, fiscal years 1961-1%9,

for more examples.

31. House, Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1964 NASA Authorization, hearings on H.R. 5466,

88/1, part 1, pp. 2-3; idem, 1963 NASA Authorization, hearings on H.R. 10100, 87/2, part 1, pp. 3-9.

32. Endless Frontier, p. 171.

33. "A Matter of Priority: An examination of the budget and benefits of the moon shot in relation

to other problems," report prepared by the staff of the Senate Republican Policy Committee,

May 10, 1963.

34. Logsdon, Decision, p. 128.

35. P. H. A[belsonj., "Manned Lunar Landing," Science 140 (1963): 267.

36. See, for example: Frederick D. Hibben, "NASA, Scientists Divided on Space Goals," Aviation

Week & Space Technology, Apr. 29, 1963, pp.24-25; Albert Eisele, "Nobel Winners Criticize Moon

Project," Washington Post, May 6, 1963; Robert Hotz, "Apollo and Its Critics," Aviation Week &

Space Technology, Apr. 29, 1963; William J. Perkinson, "Engineers vs. Scientists," Baltimore Sun,

Apr. 30, 1963; Howard Simons's 3-part series in the Washington Post, "Scientists Divided on

Apollo," May 12-14, 1963.

37. "U.S. Official Answers Critics of Manned Lunar Program," Baltimore Sun, Apr. 30, 1963.

38. "Man-on-Moon Project Backed by 8 Scientists," Washington Evening Star, May 27, 1963.

39. Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, Scientists' Testimony on Space Goals, Hearings, 88/1, June 10-11, 1963.

40. Ibid., pp. 242-43.

41. Endless Frontier, pp. 169-74.

42. Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1963, pp. 440, 464, 474.

43. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, p. 385.

44. Ibid., p. 384.

45. Swenson, Grimwood, and Alexander, This New Ocean, p. 643.

46. Ibid., pp. 384-86.

47. House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1965 NASA Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 9641,

88/2, part 1, p. 10.

272
Source Notes

CHAPTER 2

1. R. Cargill Hall, Lunar Impact: A History of Project Ranger, NASA SP-4210 (Washington 1977), pp.

15-16.

2. Stephen G. Brush, "Nickel for Your Thoughts: Urey and the Origin of the Moon," Science 217

(1982):891-98.

3. Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, Scientists' Testimony on Space Goals, Hearings, 88/1, June 10, 1963, pp. 51, 52-53.

4. Homer E. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA SP-4211 (Washington, 1980), pp. 212-13.

5. Hall, Lunar Impact, p. 15.

6. Ibid., pp. 5, 17; Clayton R. Koppes, JPL and the American Space Program: A History of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1982), pp. 99-100.

7. Hall, Lunar Impact, pp. 18, 20-24.

8. Ibid., p. 38.

9. NASA, Fifth Semiannual Report to Congress, October 1, 1960, Through June 30, 1961 (Washington,

1962), pp. 49-50.

10. For a discussion of some of the problems faced by the engineers in ensuring reliability, see Loyd

S. Swenson, Jr., James M. Grimwood, and Charles C. Alexander, This New Ocean: A History of

Project Mercury, NASA SP-4201 (Washington, 1966), pp. 167-213.

11. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, p. 163.

12. Scientists' Testimony on Space Goals, pp. 110, 244; Newell, "The Mission of Man in Space," address

to Symposium on Protection Against Radiation Hazards in Space, Gatlinburg, Tenn., Nov. 5,

1962, text.

13. R. L. F. Boyd, "In Space: Instruments or Man?" International Science and Technology, May 1965,

pp. 64-75. Boyd, a British astronomer with substantial experience in unmanned space science

projects, presents the archetypal sky scientist's view—supremely confident of the potential of

computerized systems and condescendingly contemptuous of the capability of man.

14. Hall, Lunar Impact, p. 114.

15. Ibid., pp. 289-96.

16. Swenson, Grimwood, and Alexander, This New Ocean, pp. 414-15.

17. Joseph F. Shea to Dir., Aerospace Medicine and Dir., Spacecraft & Flight Missions, "Selection

and Training of Apollo Crew Members," Mar. 29, 1962.

18. Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), chap. 3.

19. Ivan D. Ertel and Mary Louise Morse, The Apollo Spacecraft: A Chronology, vol. I, NASA SP-4009

(Washington, 1969), p. 108.

20. "Draft Statement on Scientific Training of the Astronaut for Consideration of the Lunar Exploration Committee," signed by G. McDonald, M. Ewing, T. Gold, E. Stuhlinger, H. Hess, H. Brown,

and R. Jastrow (members or consultants of the Lunar Sciences Subcommittee of the Space Sciences

Steering Committee), no date [ca. Sept. 19611.

21. House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Subcommittee on Space Sciences and Applications, 1963 NASA Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 10100, 87/2, pt. 4, pp. 1783-88, 1879-80, 1928-31.

22. Hall, Lunar Impact, p. 157.

23. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, chap. 12, discusses the relations of OSS to the external scientific

community, including the scientists' insistence on noninterference. For additional examples, see

Daniel S. Greenberg, The Politics of Pure Science (New York: The New American Library, 1967),

pp. 85, 112, 114, 132, 135, 137.

24. Hall, Lunar Impact, p. 162.

25. OMSF, "Requirements for Data in Support of Project Apollo," issue no. 1, June 15, 1962.

26. Hall, Lunar Impact, p. 162; Koppes, JPL and the American Space Program, p. 116.

27. Shea, "Selection and Training of Apollo Crew Members," Mar. 29, 1962; W. A. Lee to Dr. J.

F. Shea, "Ad Hoc Working Group on Apollo Scientific Experiments and Training (sic)," Apr.

13, 1962.

273
Where No Man Has Gone Before

28. L. D. Jaffe, "Minutes: Ad Hoc Working Group on Apollo Scientific Experiments and Training,

27 March 1962," Mar. 30, 1962.

29. Jaffe, "Minutes: Ad Hoc Working Group on Apollo Scientific Experiments and Training, 17 April

1962," Apr. 20, 1962, with attachment: Lee, "Guidelines from the Office of Manned Space Flight."

30. Lee, "Guidelines From the Office of Manned Space Flight."

31. Jaffe, "Minutes: Ad Hoc Working Group on Apollo Scientific Experiments and Training, 23 April

1962," no date.

32. Ibid.

33. Homer E. Newell and D. Brainerd Holmes, memo for the Assoc. Adm., "Establishment of a Joint

OSS/OMSF Working Group," Oct. 22, 1962.

34. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, p. 401.

35. NASA Hq., News Release 62-251, "Unit to Coordinate Manned and Unmanned Space Flight,"

Nov. 27, 1962.

36. Hall, Lunar Impact, p. 79.

37. Shoemaker interview, Houston, Mar. 17, 1984.

38. Shoemaker interview; Shoemaker, "Report for week of November 12," Dec. 13, 1962.

39. Lee to Shea, "OSS Participation in Apollo," Sept. 22, 1962.

40. Swenson, Grimwood, and Alexander, This New Ocean, pp. 414, 419, 443-44; W. David Compton

and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA SP-4208 (Washington,

1983), pp. 59-60.

41. Shoemaker to Dir., Lunar and Planetary Programs and Dir., Systems Studies, "Report for Week of

November 12," "Report for Week of November 19," and "Report for Week of November 26," all

dated Dec. 13, 1962.

42. Shoemaker to Dir., Office of Space Sciences, "Recommended Structure for Manned Space Science

Planning Group," Dec. 13, 1962; Shoemaker to Dir., OMSF and Dir., OSS, "Panel Chairmen

and Members Recommended for the Manned Space Science Planning Group," Dec. 26, 1962.

43. Shoemaker to Dir., Office of Space Sciences, "Recommended Structure ... ," Dec. 13, 1962;

Shoemaker interview; Shoemaker, "Report for Week of November 19," Dec. 13, 1962.

44. Newell to Robert Gilruth, Feb. 15, 1963; Newell, "Memorandum to A/Mr. Webb," Mar. 26, 1963.

45. Shoemaker interview.

46. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, p. 292; Nolan to Gilruth, Apr. 24, 1963.

47. "Memorandum of Agreement between Office of Manned Space Flight [and] Office of Space

Sciences, Scientific Interfaces," no date; signed by E. M. Cortright July 25, 1963, and J. F. Shea

July 26, 1963.

48. NASA Release 63-242, "NASA Office of Space Science and Applications Organization Detailed,"

Nov. 18, 1963; Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, p. 284.

49. Robert L. Rosholt, An Administrative History of NASA, 1958-1963, NASA SP-4101 (Washington,

1966), pp. 289-302; Arnold S. Levine, Managing NASA in the Apollo Era, NASA SP-4102 (Washington, 1982), pp. 5-6, 38-46.

50. Levine, Managing NASA, p. 19.

51. House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1965 NASA Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 9641,

88/2, pt. 1, pp. 113-14.

52. Levine, Managing NASA, p. 119.

53. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 128-31; "Apollo Schedule and Cost Evaluation,"

presentation to George E. Mueller, Sept. 28, 1963, copy in JSC History Office files, box 063-65.

54. NASA Management Instruction 9000.002, "Establishment of a Manned Space Flight Experiments

Board," Jan. 14, 1964; Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, pp. 61-62.

55. Willis B. Foster to Chief, Lunar & Planetary Branch [OSSA], "Establishment of Manned Space

Flight Experiments Board," Jan. 9, 1964.

56. Barton C. Hacker and James M. Grimwood, On the Shoulders of Titans: A History of Project Gemini,

NASA SP-4203 (Washington, 1977). Gemini is, to some degree, the forgotten manned space flight

program, yet it was essential in determining that men could survive for as long as two weeks

in zero gravity with no serious aftereffects, in proving the techniques of orbital rendezvous and

controlled earth landing, and in developing the fuel cell as a power source, besides providing

many hours of operational experience for mission control.

57. President's Science Advisory Committee, report by the Space Science and Space Vehicle Panels

(Donald F. Hornig, chmn.), "Objectives and Means in Lunar Surface Exploration," Oct. 15, 1963.

274
Source Notes

CHAPTER 3

1. See Harold C. Urey, "The Contending Moons," Astronautics & Aeronautics, vol. 7, no. 1 (Jan.

1969), pp. 37-41, reproduced in "Lunar Science Prior to Apollo 11," Robert Jastrow, Vivien Gornitz, Paul W. Gast, and Robert A. Phinney, eds. (NASA Goddard Space Flight Center Institute

for Space Studies, 1969), pp. I-1 to I-6. This collection, a summary of discussions at a conference

on problems in lunar science held in New York on June 5, 1969, contains papers and excerpts

from books by the leading researchers in lunar science. Although it includes some results from

Ranger and Surveyor that are not pertinent to the present discussion, this volume is a good single

source of pre-Apollo information on the moon.

2. Eugene M. Shoemaker, "Exploration of the Moon's Surface," American Scientist 50 (1962):99-129.

3. Urey, "The Contending Moons"; Harold C. Urey and G. J. F. MacDonald, "Origin and History

of the Moon," in "Lunar Science Prior to Apollo 11," pp. I-14 to 1-135.

4. Urey, "The Contending Moons."

5. "Principal Issues in Lunar Exploration," in "Lunar Science Prior to Apollo 11," pp. 1-19.

6. Ibid., p. 4.

7. "Draft report of the Ad Hoc Working Group on Apollo Experiments and Training on the Scientific Aspects of the Apollo Program," Charles P. Sonett, chmn., July 6, 1962.

8. L. D. Jaffe, "Minutes: Ad Hoc Working Group on Apollo Scientific Experiments and Training,

23 April 1962," no date.

9. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 61-67, 83-86.

10. Robert C. Seamans, Jr., to Homer E. Newell, July 25, 1962.

11. Homer E. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA SP-4211 (Washington, 1980), pp. 207-208.

12. Ibid.

13. National Academy of Sciences-National Research Council, A Review of Space Research, report of

the summer study conducted under the auspices of the Space Science Board at the State University of Iowa, June 17-Aug. 10, 1962, NAS-NRC Publication 1079 (Washington, 1962), pp. 11-4

to 11-5, 4 to 10.

14. Ibid., pp. 11-15 to 11-16.

15. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, p. 209.

16. Verne C. Fryklund, Jr., to Ernst Stuhlinger and Hans Hueter, MSFC, "Scientific Guidelines for

LLS and LLV Studies," July 3, 1963; Fryklund to Dir., MSC, "Scientific Guidelines for the Apollo

Project," Oct. 8, 1963.

17. Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., James M. Grimwood, and Charles C, Alexander, This New Ocean: A History of Project Mercury, NASA SP-4201 (Washington, 1966) , pp. 414-15, 418, 443-45.

18. For a discussion of the integration of experiments with the Mercury flights, see Lewis R. Fisher,

William O. Armstrong, and Carlos S. Warren, "Special Inflight Experiments," in Mercury Project

Summary Including Results of the Fourth Manned Orbital Flight, May 15 and 16, 1963, NASA SP-45

(Washington, 1963), pp. 213-19.

19. The author found this impression to be rarely if ever documented but pervasive among space

scientists and others interviewed. It seemed to be most persistent in the minds of scientists who

were not associated with the manned programs over long periods of time; those who worked

closely with MSC engineers in developing the Apollo science program came to feel otherwise,

for the most part. See author's interviews with P. E. Purser, Mar. 10, 1983, E. M. Shoemaker,

Mar. 17, 1984, and H. H. Schmitt, May 30, 1984, and Loyd S. Swenson's interviews with A. J.

Dessler, May 16, 1971, and E. H. King, Jr., May 27, 1971, tapes in JSC History Office files. Those

who understood the engineers' problems and accepted the manned lunar landing program as

the driving force of the entire space program tended to be more sympathetic. Scientist-astronaut

H. H. Schmitt felt the scientists' expectations of the engineers were unreasonable: "look what

they [the engineers] were trying to do, for crying out loud: they were trying to land on the

moon! ... [As late as 19681 there was not an engineer ... who could prove that the lunar module was going to be able to fly to the moon [land and return]." (Schmitt interview.) During Mercury, the many foreseeable (and unforeseeable but expected) problems of developing spacecraft

275
Where No Man Has Gone Before

and operations caused engineers to be intolerant of any exercise not essential to the lunar landing that might in any way imperil the crew or the engineering and operational objectives of a flight.

20. Shoemaker interview.

21. Newell to Gilruth, Feb. 15, 1963; Wendell W. Mendell, interview with Swenson, Feb. 11, 1971,

transcript in JSC History Office files; Newell to A/Mr. Webb, Mar. 16, 1963.

22. King interview; Gilruth to Thomas B. Nolan, Mar. 29, 1963.

23. MSC Circular 19, "Establishment of the Mercury Scientific Experiments Panel," Apr. 18, 1962;

MSC gen. mgt. inst. 2-3-1, "Manned Spacecraft Center In-Flight Scientific Experiments Coordination Panel," Oct. 15, 1962; MSC tech. mgt. inst. 37-1-1, "In-Flight Experimental Programs,"

July 18,1963; William O. Armstrong, interview with James M. Grimwood and Ivan D. Ertel, Jan.

24, 1967, transcript in JSC History Office files.

24. Fryklund to SD/Deputy Drector, "Memo from J. M. Eggleston About a Facility at MSC to House i

the Space Environment Division," July 24, 1963; Newell to M/Assoc. Adm., "Facility at Manned

Spacecraft Center for the Space Environment Division," July 31, 1963.

25. Newell to Gilruth, "Manned Space Science Division Supporting Research and Technology Tasks,"

Nov. 21, 1963; Fryklund, "Discussions at Manned Spacecraft Center on September 19, 1963,"

memo for record, Sept. 27, 1963; Fryklund to Dr. Robert Voas, Oct. 11, 1963; Paul R. Brockman

to SM/Acting Director, "Manned Space Science Project Management," Nov. 8, 1963; Brockman

to SP/Gutheim, "Weekly report," Nov. 22, 1962; Willis B. Foster to Assoc. Adm. for MSF, "Apollo

Scientific Guidelines," Dec. 19, 1963; Brockman to Gutheim, "Weekly Report," Dec. 6, 1963.

26. Foster to Richard Mize, "Weekly Report for Week of December 16," Dec. 20, 1963.

27. Foster to Mize, "Weekly Activities Report," Jan. 10, 1964; "Minutes: Manned Space Science Working Group of the Space Sciences Steering Committee," Jan. 30, 1964; Foster to SS/Dir. of Sciences,

"Weekly Activities Report," Feb. 12, 1964.

28. Fryklund to Members, Manned Space Science Working Group, Space Science Steering Committee, "First Group of Suggested Apollo Investigations and Investigators," Feb. 3, 1964; Fryklund

to chmn., Space Sciences Steering Committee, "Preliminary definition of Apollo investigations,"

Feb. 13, 1964.

29. Fryklund to John M. Eggleston, "Integrated Apollo Science Program," Mar. 25, 1964; Fryklund

to Assoc. Adm., SSA, "Integration of Apollo Science Program," Mar. 26, 1964; "Minutes, Manned

Space Science Working Group of the Space Sciences Steering Committee, 26 March 1984," Apr.

9, 1964.

30. E. L. Durst to Chief, Flight Operations Div., "Project Apollo, Operational Ground Rules for the

Lunar Landing Mission," Oct. 23, 1963; MSC, "The Development of an Apollo Lunar Landing

Mission Reference Trajectory," Internal Note 64-OM-12, May 1964.

31. MSC, "Contributions of MSC Personnel to the Manned Lunar Exploration Symposium, June 15

and 16, 1964," no date; D. A. Beattie, E. M. Davin, and P. D. Lowman to Dir., Manned Space

Science Div. and Chief, Lunar and Planetary Science Branch, "Supplemental Recommendations

and Comments on 'Apollo Scientific Investigations,"' July 6, 1964; Fryklund to Dir., MSC, "Action

Items and Positive Results from the Apollo Science Meeting," July 6, 1964.

32. Davin to multiple addressees, "Request for comments on the attached lunar surface science programs definition document for the approved Apollo missions, no date [Dec. 19641.

33. OSSA, "Apollo Lunar Science Program: Report of Planning Teams," part I, Summary (Dec. 1964),

PP• 4-9.

34. Ibid., part II, Appendix.

35. Eggleston to Staff, "Establishment of interim coordinators for scientific equipment," Jan. 14, 1965.

36. Foster to multiple addressees, "Report of Program Plans and Status," Feb. 1, 1965.

37. Foster to Assoc. Adm., MSF, "Matters to discuss with Joe Shea in regard to science experiments,"

Apr. 1, 1965.

38. Maxime A. Faget to Foster, "Grants or contracts to potential principal investigators for lunar surface experiments," May 11, 1965, with encl., "Chronology [of background information]."

39. Richard J. Allenby to Mueller and Newell, "Minutes of Newell-Mueller Meeting of 23 February

1965," Apr. 19, 1965, with encl., "Memorandum of Agreement between Office of Manned Space

Flight [and] Office of Space Science and Applications, Scientific Interfaces."

40. B. A. Linn to the record, "MSF Procurement Plan for Lunar Surface Experiments Package," June

3, 1965; Mueller to MSC, attn. Dave Lang, "Request for Approval of Procurement Plan for Lunar

Surface Experiments Package," June 7, 1965.

276
Source Notes

41. NASA release 65-260, "Three Firms Selected to Design Apollo Lunar Surface Package," Aug.

4, 1965.

42. National Academy of Sciences-National Research Council, Space Research: Directions for the Future,

report of a study by the Space Science Board, Woods Hole, Mass., 1965, NAS-NRC Publication

1402 (Washington, 1966), p. iii.

43. Ibid.

44. Ibid., pp. 623-26.

45. Ibid., pp. 628-29.

46. Ibid., pp. 5-34.

47. Ibid., pp. 486-93.

48. Ibid., p. 21.

49. NASA 1965 Summer Conference on Lunar Exploration and Science, Falmouth, Massachusetts, July 19-31,

1965, NASA SP-88 (Washington, 1965) , pp. 1, 7-19.

50. Ibid., pp. 59-393, 407-17.

51. Neal J. Smith to Allenby, 11 Aug. 1965.

52. NASA 1965 Summer Conference, pp. 7-12, 16-19.

53. Shoemaker interview.

54. Harold C. Urey to Newell, June 19, 1961.

55. Shoemaker, "Exploration of the Moon's Surface," American Scientist 50 (1962): 121.

56. Ted H. Skopinski to Chief, Systems Integration Div., "Selection of Lunar Landing Site for the

Early Apollo Lunar Missions," Mar. 21, 1962.

57. Bruce K. Byers, Destination Moon: A History of the Lunar Orbiter Program, NASA TM X-3487 (Washington, 1977), pp. 9-15.

58. Ibid., pp. 19-47, 67-69, 75-78, 227.

59. Gilruth to Mueller, Aug. 5, 1965.

60. T. H. Thompson to G. E. Mueller and Gen. S. C. Phillips, Dec. 23, 1964.

61. Mueller to multiple addressees, "Establishment of Apollo Site Selection Board," July 1, 1965.

CHAPTER 4

1. National Academy of Sciences-National Research Council, A Review of Space Research, report of

the summer study conducted under the auspices of the Space Science Board of the National

Academy of Sciences, NAS-NRC Publication 1079 (Washington, 1962), pp. 4-7, 4-33.

2. John M. Eggleston to M. A. Faget, "Initial Handling of Geological and Biological Samples Returned

from the Apollo Missions," Feb. 24, 1964.

3. Aleck C. Bond to Chief, Off. of Technical and Engineering Services, "Sample Transfer Facility,"

with encl. , "Functional Description and Tentative Performance Requirements," Apr. 14, 1964.

4. OSSA, "Apollo Lunar Science Program, Report of Planning Teams," part II, Appendix: sec. III,

"Preliminary Report on the Sampling and Examination of Lunar Surface Materials," pp. 8-9;

sec. IV, "First Report-Geochemistry Planning Team," pp. 8-13.

5. E. A. King and D. A. Flory to Asst. Dir. for Engineering and Development, "Requirements for

a Facility to Receive and Accomplish Initial Lunar Sample Investigation at MSC," July 7, 1964.

6. Faget to Willis B. Foster, "Apollo Sample Handling Facility" (draft) , Aug. 26, 1964.

7. Foster to Eggleston, "Proposal for Cataloging of Lunar Samples by Elbert A. King and Donald

A. Flory," Aug. 17, 1964; Foster to Faget, "Requirement for Laboratory Facilities for Receiving,

Unpacking and Preliminary Examination of Lunar Samples," Aug. 17, 1964.

8. Foster to Eggleston, "Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Oct. 23, 1964.

9. James C. McLane, Jr., to Mgr., Systems Tests and Evaluation, "Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Nov. 13, 1964.

10. McLane to Mgr., System Tests and Evaluation, "Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Dec. 18,

1964.

11. Homer E. Newell to Harry H. Hess, Dec. 8, 1964.

277
Where No Man Has Gone Before

12. Hess to Newell, with encl., "Report of Ad Hoc Committee on Lunar Sample Handling Facility,"

Feb. 2, 1965.

13. Ibid.

14. McLane to Chief, Facilities Div., "FY 67 C of F Program," with encl., "Lunar Sample Receiving

Laboratory Project Description and Project Justification," Jan. 20, 1965.

15. Foster to Faget, "Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Feb. 24, 1965.

16. Faget to Foster, "MSC Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Mar. 22, 1965.

17. Q. G. Robb to Chief, Test Facilities Branch, "Background Material on the Lunar Sample Facility," Apr. 6, 1965.

18. Hess to Newell, Feb. 2, 1965.

19. See the testimony of Dr. Colin S. Pittendrigh in Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space

Sciences, Scientists' Testimony on Space Goals, 88/1, June 10-11, 1963, pp. 73-80. Pittendrigh cited

the same estimate of the probability of life in the universe as that given by Su-Shu Huang ("Occurrence of Life in the Universe," American Scientist 47 (1959): 397-403), who estimated that one billion billion (1018) planets in the observable universe might be sites for the evolution of life. See

also the report of the biology working group in A Review of Space Research, pp. 9-1 to 9-4, 9-6.

For a discussion of the arguments concerning life in the solar system, see Edward Clinton Ezell

and Linda Neumann Ezell, On Mars: Exploration of the Red Planet, 1958-1978, NASA SP-4212

(Washington, 1984), pp. 51-66; see also their bibliography, p. 482, and survey of preliminary results

of the life-detecting experiments on the Viking landing missions, pp. 400-414.

20. Minutes, meeting of the Exobiology Committee of the Space Science Board, Feb. 20, 1960, cited

in Space Science Board, "Conference on Potential Hazards of Back Contamination from the Planets,

July 29-30, 1964" (advance copy), no date [Aug. 19641.

21. A Review of Space Research, p. 9-13.

22. Homer E. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA SP-4211 (Washington, 1980), pp. 274-75.

23. Ibid.

24. Space Science Board, "Conference on Potential Hazards of Back Contamination."

25. Eggleston to multiple addressees, "Sterilization precautions and quarantine of astronauts and

equipment following Apollo missions," Feb. 5, 1965.

26. Orr E. Reynolds to Assoc. Adm. for Space Science and Applications, "Responsibility for Space

Quarantine," July 2, 1965.

27. Eggleston to multiple addressees, "Sterilization precautions ...," Feb. 5, 1965; Eggleston to multiple addressees, "Recommendations on NASA Position on Sterilization and Quarantine of Apollo

Astronauts and Equipment," Feb. 19, 1965.

28. Reynolds to Assoc. Adm. for SSA, "Status of the Public Health Service-National Aeronautics

and Space Administration negotiations on back contamination," May 10, 1965.

29. W. E. Stoney, Jr., to Chief, Engineering Div., "Support Information for FY 67 C of F Project—

Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory " July 30, 1965; Hall to Ed Chao, "Engineering Study and

Preliminary Engineering Report for Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," July 1, 1965.

30. Reynolds to the record, "Summary of meeting between representatives of the National Aeronautics

and Space Administration and the Public Health Service, July 31, 1965," Aug. 17, 1965.

31. W. W. Kemmerer, Jr., and E. A. King, Jr., to Faget, "Proposed MSC Quarantine Policy for the

Apollo Program," with encl., "Proposed Quarantine Policy for Apollo Program," Sept. 23, 1965.

32. Elbert A. King, Jr., interview with Loyd S. Swenson, May 27, 1971, tape in JSC History Office

files; Kemmerer and King to the record, "Summary of a meeting between representatives of the

National Aeronautics and Space Administration, Public Health Service and the Department of

Agriculture, MSC, Houston, Texas, September 27, 1965," Sept. 30, 1965.

33. Lawrence B. Hall to Deputy Adm., "Informal Conference on Back Contamination Problems,"

Oct. 15, 1965.

34. Owen E. Maynard to PS Branches, "Earth contamination from lunar surface organisms," Oct.

29, 1965.

35. King interview.

36. Hugh L. Dryden to William H. Stewart, Nov. 15, 1966.

37. Stewart to Webb, Dec. 22, 1966.

38. Deputy Dir., Space Medicine (OMSF), TWX to McLane, Nov. 22, 1965; McLane to A. C. Bond,

"Hqs. Request for Quarantine Fac[ilityl. Study," Nov. 22, 1965.

278
Source Notes

39. Faget to Col. Jack Bollerud, "Study of Existing Personnel Quarantine Facilities," with encl., "Apollo

Personnel Quarantine Facilities Review," Dec. 8, 1965.

40. W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA

SP-4208 (Washington, 1983), pp. 40, 99-100.

41. House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1967 NASA Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 12718,

89/2, pt. 1, Mar. 10, 1966, p. 6.

42. Ibid., p. 36.

43. Idem, 1967 NASA Authorization, Hearings before the Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight on

H. R. 12718, 89/2, pt. 2, Mar. 1, 1966, p. 465.

44. Ibid., pp. 417-21.

45. Ibid., p. 476.

46. Ibid., pp. 477-79.

47. Arthur Hill, "Lab Delay May Slow Mission To the Moon," Houston Chronicle, Mar. 10, 1966.

48. Robert F. Freitag to George M. Low, Mar. 14, 1966.

49. MSC, "Site Investigation Study, Lunar Receiving Laboratory," draft report, Mar. 24, 1966, unpaginated. The final version was distributed on Apr. 7.

50. Ibid.

51. Paul E. Purser to Gilruth and Low, Mar. 29, 1966; Purser to Freitag, "Supplementary Information on the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Mar. 30, 1966.

52. House, 1967 NASA Authorization, pt. 2, Mar. 31, 1966, pp. 1207-59.

53. Charles Culhane, "Panel for Restoring Funds for Moon Lab," Houston Post, Apr. 1, 1966.

54. House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Authorizing Appropriations to the National Aeronautics

and Space Administration, House Rept. 1441, 89/2, Apr. 20, 1966, pp. 121-24.

55. "$4.9-Billion Is Voted For NASA By House," New York Times, May 5, 1966.

56. House Committee on Appropriations, Independent Offices Appropriation Bill, 1967, House Rept. 1477,

8912, May 5, 1966, pp. 13-14.

57. Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, NASA Authorization for Fiscal Year 1967,

Senate Rept. 1184, 89/2, May 23, 1966, pp. 81-83.

58. NASA Off. of Legislative Affairs„ "Legislative Activity Report," vol. V. , no. 141, Aug. 24, 1966.

59. Jane Van Nimmen and Leonard C. Bruno, with Robert L. Rosholt, NASA Historical Data Book,

1958-1968, vol. 1: NASA Resources, NASA SP-4012 (Washington, 1976), p. 117.

60. Leo T. Zbanek to Chief, Facilities Div., "Lunar Sample Handling Facility," Mar. 5, 1965; Faget

to Foster, "MSC Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Mar. 22, 1965; OSSA Ad Hoc Committee

on the Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory, "Concepts, Functional Requirements, Specifications

and Recommended Plan of Operation for the Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Mar. 15, 1965;

McLane to J. G. Griffith, "Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Apr. 8, 1965; Gilruth to Chief,

Engineering Div., "Formation of a Technical Working Committee for the Design of a Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory and Designation as Consultants to Assist in the Selection of an ArchitectEngineer Firm," June 14, 1965; Foster to Faget, "Membership of the Headquarters Advisory Committee on Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," July 14, 1965; Foster to Dir., Facilities Programming and Construction, "Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Aug. 19, 1965; Foster to George

M. Low, "Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Aug. 25, 1965; OSSA Standing Committee on

LSRL, "Review of the Preliminary Engineering Report (PER) of the Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory (LSRL)," Nov. 10, 1965; Low to Foster through Dr. George E. Mueller, "Manned Space Science

Standing Committee for the Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Dec. 9, 1965.

61. House, 1967 NASA Authorization, pt. 2, Mar. 1, 1966, p. 472.

62. Dave W. Lang to George J. Vecchietti, "Schedule of Procurement Actions—Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Apr. 30, 1966.

63. MSC Announcement 66-57, "Establishment of a Lunar Receiving Laboratory Policy Board and

a Lunar Receiving Laboratory Program Office," May 9 , 1966

64. D. D. Wyatt, "Lunar Receiving Facility, memo for record, Manned Spacecraft Center," June 14,

1965.

65. Mueller to MSC, TWX, subj.: "Lunar Receiving Laboratory," July 28, 1966.

66. NASA Releases 66-200, Aug. 1, 1966, and 66-222, Aug. 19, 1966.

67. Space Science Board, "Report of Ad Hoc Committee on Lunar Sample Handling Facility," Feb.

2, 1965.

68. King interview.

279
Where No Man Has Gone Before

69. OSSA Ad Hoc Committee on the Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory, "Concepts ... for the

Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Mar. 15, 1965, p. 80.

70. McLane to Mgr., Systems Tests and Evaluation, "Staffing for the Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory," Sept. 2, 1965.

71. Urner Liddell to Chmn., Space Science Steering Committee, "Recommendations of Planetology

Subcommittee, Meeting 3-66, February 23-25, 1966," no date.

72. "Summary Minutes, Lunar Receiving Laboratory Working Group of the Planetology Subcommittee, Space Sciences Steering Committee (Meeting No. 1-66)," May 5, 1966.

73. McLane to Du., Engineering and Development, "Estimate of scientist staffing requirements for

the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," May 25, 1966.

74. House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1968 NASA Authorization, hearings before the

Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight, 90/1, pt. 2, p. 599.

75. "Summary Minutes, Lunar Receiving Laboratory Working Group of the Planetology Subcommittee, Space Sciences Steering Committee (Meeting No. 1-67)," July 11, 1966.

76. Joseph R. Crump to Purser, with encl., "Concerning a Contract for Lunar Receiving Laboratory,"

July 27, 1966.

77. Draft memo, Gilruth to Mueller, "Procurement Plan for Operational Support Services Contract

for the Manned Spacecraft Center Lunar Receiving Laboratory," with encl., procurement plan,

no date [c. Sept. 5, 1966].

78. Gilruth to Lt. Gen. Frank A. Bogart, Oct. 12, 1966.

79. J. E. Riley to Mr. Cariski, "MSC Procurement Plan for Operational Support of Lunar Receiving

Laboratory," Oct. 18, 1966; Bogart to Mr. Webb, "Meeting with Dr. Seitz on the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Nov. 7, 1966; Purser, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Operations Planning," memo

for the record, Nov. 7, 1966; Robert O. Piland to Deputy Dir., "Lunar Receiving Laboratory,"

Nov. 8, 1966; Wesley L. Hjornevik, TWX to Bogart, Dec. 15, 1966; Francis B. Smith to Webb and

Seamans, "December 1966 meeting to discuss plans for the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Dec.

19, 1966.

80. Smith to Webb and Seamans, "December 1966 meeting ...," Dec. 19, 1966.

81. Willis M. Shapley to Mueller and Newell, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Dec. 21, 1966.

82. "Summary Minutes, Lunar Receiving Laboratory Working Group of the Planetology Subcommittee, Space Science Steering Committee (Meeting No. 2-67)," Sept. 26-27, 1966; Lunar Receiving

Laboratory Working Group to Newell through Planetology Subcommittee, Sept. 29, 1966; Bogart

to Low, Sept. 22, 1966; "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination," Oct. 3, 1966;

David J. Sencer to Seamans, Nov. 14, 1966; G. Briggs Phillips to Bogart, with encl., "Status Report

on the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Dec. 13, 1966; Melvin Calvin to Newell, Dec. 29, 1966; Richard

J. Allenby to Assoc. Adm. for Space Science and Applications, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Problems," Dec. 29, 1966.

83. Hjornevik to Bogart, TWX, Dec. 15, 1966; MSC Announcement 67-7, "Organization and Personnel Assignments for the Science and Applications Directorate," Jan. 10, 1967.

84. Low to Bogart, Jan. 13, 1967, with encls.: Gilruth to Chief, Procurement and Contracts Div., "Justification (under NPC 401) for nonpersonal service contract for operation of the Manned Spacecraft

Center Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Jan. 13, 1967; Piland to Chief, Procurement and Contracts

Div., "Justification for noncompetitive procurement for operational support of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Jan. 13, 1967.

CHAPTER 5

1. MSC's philosophy of astronaut selection and training was well summarized in a memo by

Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., of MSC's Flight Operations Division in late 1962. Commenting on an

article in a national magazine, wherein it was speculated that future astronauts might be computer experts rather than test pilots, Kraft wrote, "It is our feeling that you must use people who

are adapted to taking action should emergencies develop and who are well trained in this category. We feel that you can then take this type of individual ... and give him the necessary training

280
Source Notes

in the other fields such as navigation and guidance, geology, etc. The primary need is for spacecraft

control, at least in the programs presently planned (Gemini and Apollo), and these people can be trained

to accomplish the explorations presently envisioned [emphasis added]. When you get to the point of

conducting experiments in space, such as you would do in the Space Station, ... we would probably use engineers and scientists who were experts in a given field. However, the people responsible for control of the vehicle ferrying these types of experts to and from the Space Station, and

the people on board the Space Station responsible for emergency action will probably still be

in the same category as test pilots." C. C. Kraft, Jr., to A. M. Chop, "Article on Astronaut Selection in November 7 issue of Time Magazine," Nov. 8, 1962. This basic philosophy has been followed for 20 years, right down to the operational flights of the Shuttle orbiter.

2. Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., James M. Grimwood, and Charles C. Alexander, This New Ocean: A History of Project Mercury, NASA SP-4201 (Washington, 1966), p. 174.

3. Ibid., pp. 131, 160-63.

4. Ibid., p. 174.

5. Ibid., p. 235; John H. Glenn, Jr., interview with Robert B. Merrifield, Mar. 15, 1968, transcript

in JSC History Office files. For a colorful account of the beginning of the manned space flight

program, including the choice of test pilots as the Original Seven astronauts and their experiences

through the Mercury program, see Tom Wolfe, The Right Stuff (New York: Farrar, Straus and

Giroux, 1979). Wolfe's literary style is objectionable to many, but his treatment of Mercury is

(to the present author's knowledge) well researched and is considered by many Mercury participants to accurately convey the spirit of the early days of manned space flight.

6. Swenson, Grimwood, and Alexander, This New Ocean, pp. 235-37.

7. National Academy of Sciences-National Research Council, A Review of Space Research, report of

the summer study conducted under the auspices of the Space Science Board, NAS-NRC Publication 1079 (Washington, 1962), p. 1-22.

8. Ibid., pp. 11-1 to 11-16.

9. Ibid., pp. 11-8 to 11-12.

10. Ibid., pp. 11-17 to 11-19.

11. Swenson, Grimwood, and Alexander, This New Ocean, pp. 440-42.

12. Ibid., pp. 177, 442.

13. Donald K. Slayton interview, Oct. 15, 1984. Slayton's comments on this case: "There were two

situations where we had a strong input from Headquarters. One was on Apollo 13, where for

some reason George Mueller didn't like the crew I had assigned to fly 13 and insisted on turning

them around.... We wound up switching the 13 and 14 crews around.... The other

thing, ... on 13, Mattingly had that medical problem [exposure to rubella]...." Alan Shepard

was commander of the crew that flew Apollo 14, so the original assignment would have given

him command of Apollo 13. At the time those two crews were publicly named (August 1969)

Shepard had been back on flight duty less than six months after spending almost five years off

the active list for medical reasons.

14. Slayton interview by Robert B. Merrifield, Oct. 17, 1967, transcript in JSC History Office files;

MSC Space News Roundup, Sept. 19, 1962; MSC Announcements 190, Apr. 29, 1963, and 268, Nov.

5, 1963.

15. Alan L. Bean interview, Apr. 10, 1984.

16. Barton C. Hacker and James M. Grimwood, On the Shoulders of Titans: A History of Project Gemini,

NASA SP-4203 (Washington, 1977), pp. 49-73.

17. House Committee on Science and Technology, Astronauts and Cosmonauts: Biographical and Statistical

Data [Revised May 31, 19781, report prepared by the Congressional Research Service, Library of

Congress, July 1978, pp. 6-7; idem, Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 1962, report prepared

by the NASA Historical Staff, June 12, 1963, p. 56.

18. Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 1962, pp. 146, 191.

19. Slayton interview, Oct. 17, 1967.

20. Ibid.; MSC, "Flight Crew Training Report No. 1," Oct. 20, 1962.

21. MSC, "Flight Crew Training Reports," nos. 1-16, Oct. 15, 1962, to Feb. 9, 1963; no. 16 includes

a summary of topics covered in the basic science course.

22. MSC, "Apollo Spacecraft Project Status Report No. 1 for Period Ending September 31, 1962," p. 48.

23. NASA, Astronautics and Aeronautics, Chronology on Science, Technology, and Policy, 1963, NASA

SP-4004, (Washington, 1964) p. 197.

281
Where No Man Has Gone Before

24. MSC Release 63-102, June 18, 1963; Slayton interview, Oct. 17, 1967; Astronauts and Cosmonauts,

p. 7.

25. House Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight of the Committee on Science and Astronautics,

1964 NASA Authorization, hearings on H.R. 5466, 88/1, pt. 2(a), p. 235, Mar. 7, 1963.

26. Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1963, pp. 322, 392.

27. Astronauts and Cosmonauts, p. 7.

28. Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1963, p. 495.

29. Hacker and Grimwood, On the Shoulders of Titans, p. 191.

30. MSC, Flight Crew Training Reports nos. 66-83, Feb. 3-June 1, 1964.

31. Elbert A. King, Jr., interview by Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., May 27, 1971, tape in JSC History Office files.

32. Ibid.; interviews, Alan L. Bean, Apr. 10, 1984, and Eugene A. Cernan, Apr. 6, 1984; Michael

Collins, Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut's Journeys (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1974),

pp. 72-75.

33. Hacker and Grimwood, On the Shoulders of Titans, pp. 194-200.

34. Ibid., 219.

35. Ibid. , 220-24; Donald K. Slayton, Warren J. North, and C. H. Woodling, "Flight Crew Procedures and Training," in Gemini Midprogram Conference Including Experimental Results, NASA SP-121

(Washington, 1966) , pp. 201-11.

36. Hacker and Grimwood, On the Shoulders of Titans, pp. 239-40.

37. Ibid., 255.

38. All the astronauts this author has interviewed have stated that they never understood exactly

what determined their first assignment to a crew; see author's interviews with Alan L. Bean,

Harrison H. Schmitt, Eugene A. Cernan, and Joseph P. Kerwin, Jr., transcripts in JSC History

Office files; with Paul J. Weitz, transcript in Skylab files, Fondren Library, Rice Univ.; also Collins, Carrying the Fire, p. 141, and Slayton interview, Oct. 15, 1984. A special scientific committee

convened at OSSA's request by Rice University to recommend ways to provide more opportunities for scientific training of astronauts noted that criteria for crew selection were a mystery to

the astronauts; see n. 61, below.

39. See W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab,

NASA SP-4208 (Washington, 1983) pp. 12-14, 19-20; also House, Subcommittee on Manned Space

Flight of the Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1965 NASA Authorization, hearings on H.R.

9641, 88/2, pt. 2, pp. 446-48, 587-609, and Arnold S. Levine, Managing NASA in the Apollo Era,

NASA SP-4102 (Washington, 1982) , pp. 239-47.

40. Homer E. Newell to W. N. Hess, Apr. 16, 1964.

41. "NASA to Select Scientist-Astronauts for Future Missions," NASA Release 64-248, Oct. 19, 1964.

42. Homer E. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA SP-4211 (Washington, 1980), p. 209.

43. Slayton interview, Oct. 15, 1984.

44. Eugene M. Shoemaker interview, Mar. 17, 1984. According to Jack Schmitt, who worked with

Shoemaker before and after he was selected as an astronaut, the committee set the standards

too high. He recalled telling Shoemaker that they should have picked more scientists, "because

we need[ed] more visibility down here." Shoemaker argued that the Academy did not want to

risk choosing people who would not work out as astronauts, so the committee applied very strict

standards. H. H. Schmitt interview, July 6, 1984.

45. MSC News Release 65-63, June 29, 1965.

46. "NASA Picks 6 Scientist-Astronauts To Make Field Trips to the Moon, Washington Post, June

27, 1965.

47. Associated Press, "Dr. Graveline Quits Project as Astronaut," Chicago Tribune, Aug. 19, 1965.

Graveline's wife sued him for divorce shortly after he was selected. While no documentation

has been found to confirm it, the general impression among the astronauts was that divorce was

considered incompatible with the established image of the astronaut, apart from the fact that

involvement in a divorce case might create psychological problems that would impair the trainee's

(or pilot's) efficiency.

48. Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, pp. 40 -56, 83-86.

49. George E. Mueller to Robert R. Gilruth, Jan. 25, 1964.

50. "NASA To Select Additional Pilot-Astronauts," NASA Release 65-288, Sept. 10, 1965; "U.S.

Seeking Astronauts for Apollo," Baltimore Sun, Sept. 11, 1965.

282
Source Notes

51. "Nineteen Pilots Join United States Astronaut Team," NASA Release 66-77, Apr. 4, 1966; "19

Chosen as Spacemen, Some for Moon Missions," Washington Post, Apr. 5, 1966.

52. "Scientists Invited to Become Astronauts, Do Research in Space," NASA Release 66-255, Sept.

26, 1966.

53. Russell L. Schweickart, interview with Peter Vorzimmer, May 1, 1967, transcript in JSC History

Office files.

54. NASA 1965 Summer Conference on Lunar Exploration and Science, NASA SP-88 (Washington, 1965),

pp. 407-17.

55. Alan B. Shepard, Jr., to multiple addressees, "Astronaut Technical Assignments," Jan. 6, 1967.

56. Harrison H. Schmitt interview, May 30, 1984.

57. Slayton interview, Oct. 15, 1984.

58. Ibid.; Bean interview.

59. Joseph P. Kerwin, Jr., interview, Mar. 29, 1985.

60. Bean interview; Cernan interview.

61. "Space Science Training for Astronauts Involved in NASA Manned Space Flight Missions," report

under contract NSR 44-006-031, Nov. 1965, p. 4.

62. Ibid., pp. 2-4.

63. Cernan interview.

64. Gilruth to Dr. A. J. DessIer, Dec. 22, 1965.

65. Slayton interview, Oct. 15, 1984. When the debate over sending a scientist to the moon intensified in 1969, several wire-service stories quoted Slayton to this effect; see Paul Recer (Associated

Press), "They Feud Over Moon Flights," Miami Herald, Oct. 12, 1969. Gilruth's position was

expressed in a letter to George Mueller, Sept. 2, 1969, responding to Mueller's concern that the

science community was growing restive because no scientist-astronauts were assigned to Apollo

missions.

CHAPTER 6

1. Harold C. Urey to Homer E. Newell, June 19, 1961.

2. Eugene M. Shoemaker, "Exploration of the Moon's Surface," American Scientist 50 (1962):99-130.

3. MSC, "Environmental Factors Involved in the Choice of Lunar Operational Dates and the Choice

of Lunar Landing Sites," NASA Project Apollo Working Paper (AWP) No. 1100, Nov. 22, 1963.

In 1972 an entire number of The Bell System Technical Journal (vol. 51, no. 5, pp. 955-1127) was

devoted to a single article, "Where on the Moon? An Apollo Systems Engineering Problem,"

J.O. Cappellari, Jr., ed. This is a narrative description of the many factors that entered into the

choice of an Apollo landing site, how the factors were weighted, and how the interaction of those

factors changed as experience with Apollo systems accumulated. It is not so technical as to be

incomprehensible to most readers. Not surprisingly, it lays considerable emphasis on the role

of Bellcomm, Inc., in the site selection process.

4. AWP 1100, p. 23.

5. Ibid., p. 32.

6. Ibid., pp. 7-13.

7. Ibid., pp. 6-7.

8. Ibid., p. 33.

9. W. E. Thompson (Bellcomm, Inc.), "Lunar Landing Site Constraints: The Arguments for and

Against One Preselected Site Versus Several Sites," Jan. 31, 1964.

10. Benjamine J. Garland, memo for Apollo proj. off., "Characteristics of the Lunar Surface," Aug.

14, 1961; Thomas Gold, "Structure of the Moon's Surface," in J.W. Salisbury and P.E. Glaser,

eds., The Lunar Surface Layer (London: Academic Press, 1964), pp. 345-53. Gold interpreted radar,

optical, and thermal properties of the lunar surface as indicating a layer of fine particles up to

several meters thick whose mechanical properties would be difficult to predict. He suggested

that at the very least a lunar landing would be compromised by blinding clouds of dust raised

by the exhaust from the descent engine. In the popular press, Gold's hypothesis was taken to

283
Where No Man Has Gone Before

mean that a lunar module could sink out of sight. The pictures returned by Ranger 7 (July 1964)

gave Gold no reason to change his thinking; see R. Cargill Hall, Lunar Impact: A History of Project

Ranger, NASA SP-4210 (Washington, 1977), p. 285; also Gold, "Ranger Moon Pictures; Implications," Science 145 (1964):1046-48. Most Ranger scientists agreed that the TV pictures from Ranger

7 gave no basis for drawing conclusions about the load-bearing characteristics of the surface. They

did give some useful information about the distribution and size of craters and the slopes of lunar

terrain on a smaller scale than had been possible. Gold remarked after the conclusion of Ranger

that its pictures were like mirrors: "everyone sees his own theories reflected in them." Hall, Lunar

Impact, p. 309. For a bibliography of studies on the lunar surface up to the first successful Ranger

mission, see J.W. Salisbury, ed., Bibliography of Lunar and Planetary Research — 1960-1964,

AFCRL-66-52, U.S. Air Force Office of Aerospace Research, Cambridge Research Laboratories,

Jan. 1966.

11. Hall, Lunar Impact, pp. 156-82.

12. Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), pp. 150-54.

13. National Academy of Sciences-National Research Council, A Review of Space Research, report of

the summer study conducted under the auspices of the Space Science Board at the State University of Iowa, June 17-Aug. 10, 1962, NAS-NRC Publication 1079 (Washington, 1962); idem, Space

Research: Directions for the Future, report of a study by the Space Science Board, Woods Hole,

Mass., 1965, NAS-NRC Publication 1402 (Washington, 1966).

14, NASA 1965 Summer Conference on Lunar Exploration and Science, Falmouth, Massachusetts, July 19-31,

1965, NASA SP-88 (Washington, 1965), passim.

15. House, Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight of the Committee on Science and Astronautics,

1966 NASA Authorization, hearings on H.R. 3730, 89/1, pt. 2, pp. 278-85.

16. John M. Eggleston to Dr. W.A. Lee, "Target Selection for Future Ranger Flights," Feb. 4, 1965.

17. C.J. Byrne, "Ranger VII Photo Analysis—Preliminary Measurements of Apollo Landing Hazards,"

Bellcomm, Inc., Tech. Memo. TM-65-1012-2, Mar. 17, 1965.

18. Newell to multiple addressees, "Establishment of Ad Hoc Surveyor/Orbiter Utilization Committee," June 22, 1965.

19. George E. Mueller to multiple addressees, "Establishment of Apollo Site Selection Board," Management Instruction (NMI) 1152.20, Aug. 6, 1965.

20. John P. Mayer to Chief, Mission Planning and Analysis Div., MSC, "Lunar landing site selection," Oct. 6, 1964; Robert R. Gilruth to Mueller, "Establishment of Apollo Site Selection Board,"

July 29, 1965; Gilruth to Newell, "Members of Ad Hoc Surveyor/Orbiter Utilization Committee,"

July 29, 1965.

21. OSSA, "Ad Hoc Surveyor/ Orbiter Utilization Committee, Minutes First Meeting, Washington,

D.C., August 20, 1965," Sept. 16, 1965; I.M. Ross (Bellcomm, Inc.) to Maj. Gen. S.C. Phillips,

"MSF Position for Surveyor/ Orbiter Utilization Committee Meeting August 20, 1965," Aug. 20,

1965. For a more detailed description of Lunar Orbiter mission planning, especially in support

of Apollo, see Bruce K. Byers, Destination Moon: A History of the Lunar Orbiter Program, NASA

TM X-3487 (Washington, 1977), pp. 177-99, 248-53, 261; Orbiter's contributions to Apollo site

selection are summarized on pp. 308-14. No useful single source for Surveyor mission planning

and its relation to Apollo is available; the project's results (almost entirely scientific) are summarized in Surveyor Program Results, NASA SP-184 (Washington, 1969).

22. Willis E. Foster, "Draft Minutes of Second Meeting of Ad Hoc Surveyor/Orbiter Utilization Committee," Oct. 1, 1965, with encl., Itr., R.J. Parks to Benjamin Milwitzky, subj.: Surveyor Mission

A Landing Site Selection, Sept. 28, 1965.

23. Albert Sehlstedt, Jr., "Surveyor Makes Soft Landing On Moon," Baltimore Sun, June 2, 1966.

24. William Hines, "Man Could Explore the Moon on Foot," Washington Evening Star, June 17,1966;

Evert Clark, "Surveyor Found 'Gritty' Moon That Can Support a Spacecraft," New York Times,

June 17, 1966.

25. Byers, Destination Moon, pp. 228-45.

26. Lunar Orbiter Photo Data Screening Group, "Preliminary Terrain Evaluation and Apollo Landing Site Analysis Based on Lunar Orbiter I Photography," Langley Working Paper LWP -323, Nov.

1966.

27. Foster, "Minutes of the Surveyor/ Orbiter Utilization Committee, Washington, D.C., September

29, 1966"; Byers, Destination Moon, p. 251.

284
Source Notes

28. Byers, Destination Moon, p. 258. See L.J. Kosofsky and Farouk El-Baz, The Moon as Viewed by Lunar

Orbiter, NASA SP-200 (Washington, 1970), for an annotated collection of many of the best photographs from the Lunar Orbiter missions, along with brief descriptions of the spacecraft and its

systems and a complete listing of the sites photographed on each of the five missions. The detail

in these photographs, even in halftone reproduction, must be seen to be believed. Much of the

geologic interpretation of the moon has been accomplished using Lunar Orbiter photographs and

the information they contain is far from exhausted, according to Eugene Shoemaker (interview,

Mar. 17, 1984).

29. Foster, "Minutes of the Surveyor/ Orbiter Utilization Committee, Washington, D.C., January 5,

1967."

30. S.C. Phillips to multiple addressees, "Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting, December 15, 1966," Mar. 3, 1967.

31. John M. Eggleston to Dir., MSC, "Utilization of Orbiter and Surveyor in Support of Apollo and

Apollo Applications Program Objectives," Jan. 18, 1967; Byers, Destination Moon, pp. 312-26,

329-30.

32. MSC, "Project Apollo Lunar Excursion Module Development Statement of Work," July 24, 1962,

pp. 2, A-107-109.

33. MSC, "Project Apollo Quarterly Status Report No. 3 for Period Ending March 31, 1963," p. 30.

34. MSC, "Project Apollo Quarterly Status Report No. 6 for Period Ending December 31, 1963," p. 34;

contract NAS9-2115, "Survey of Lunar Surface Measurements, Experiments, and Geologic

Studies," Sept. 30, 1963.

35. John M. Eggleston to Wayne Young (JSC), letter with comments on draft of Apollo explorations

history, Sept. 12, 1984.

36. MSC, "Project Apollo Quarterly Status Report No. 8 for Period Ending June 30, 1964," p. 47.

17. Mueller to MSC, "Request for Approval of Procurement Plan for Lunar Surface Experiments Package," June 7, 1965.

38. "Three Firms Selected to Design Apollo Lunar Surface Package," Hqs. Release 65-260, Aug. 4, 1965.

39. MSC, "Lunar Surface Experiments Package Request for Proposal," May 27, 1965, pp. b-1 to b-29.

40. S.C. Phillips to multiple addressees, Apollo Program Directive No. 3, subj.: Management Assignment for the Lunar Surface Experiments Package (LSEP) Project, M-D 8030.003, June 15, 1965.

41. Newell to Dir., MSC, "Selection of Scientific Investigations for Early Apollo Lunar Landing Missions," Oct. 1, 1965.

42. Newell to Dir., MSC, "Selection of Apollo Lunar Science Magnetic Field Investigations," Dec.

15, 1965.

43. William J. O'Donnell to Ames Res. Ctr., MSC, and JPL, TWX, "Moon Surface Experiments Chosen for Apollo," (NASA Hqs. Release 66-17), Jan. 27, 1966.

44. Newell to Dir., MSC, "Authorization to Procure Space Science and Applications Investigations

for Apollo Lunar Missions," Feb. 14, 1966.

45. "Bendix Named to Manufacture Lunar Package," NASA Hqs. release 66-63, Mar. 17, 1966.

46. A.P. Fontaine (Bendix Corp.) to Gilruth, Feb. 18, 1966.

47. Barton C. Hacker and James M. Grimwood, On The Shoulders of Titans: A History of Project Gemini,

NASA SP-4203 (Washington, 1977), pp. 229-31; see Gemini Midprogram Conference Including

Experimental Results, NASA SP-121 (Washington, 1966), pp. 305-436, and Gemini Summary Conference, NASA SP-138 (Washington, 1967), pp. 221-317, for summaries of the Gemini experiments

program and its results.

48. See W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab,

NASA SP-4208 (Washington, 1983), pp. 59-63, for pre-Apollo experience with scientific

experiments.

49. MSC Announcement 65-81, "Designation of Manager, Experiments, in E&D, and Establishment

of the Experiments Program Office," June 21, 1965.

50. [bid.

51. Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, pp. 40-52.

52. Maxime A. Faget to multiple addressees, "Establishment of a Space Science Office within E&D,"

Mar. 31, 1966.

53. Gilruth to Mueller, "Change in the basic MSC organization," Apr. 4, 1966.

54. D.M. Allison, "Summary Minutes: Planetology Subcommittee of the Space Science Steering Committee (Meeting No. 1-67), 26, 27, 28 July 1966," no date.

/- _ ^ 285
Where No Man Has Gone Before

55. Robert C. Seamans to Hqs. Assoc. Administrators, "Management Responsibilities for Future

Manned Flight Activities," July 26, 1966; see also Compton and Benson, Living and Working in

Space, pp. 48-52.

56. George M. Low to multiple addressees, "Pending MSC Organizational Change, Nov. 17, 1966.

57. Mueller to Gilruth, Jan. 17, 1967, with encls., MSC Organization Chart approved by Webb and

functional statement for MSC Director of Science and Applications.

58. MSC Announcement 67-27, "Director, Science and Applications Directorate," Feb. 17, 1967.

59. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 131-201.

60. Roger E. Bilstein, Stages to Saturn: A Technological History of the Apollo/Saturn Launch Vehicles, NASA

SP-4206 (Washington, 1980), pp. 209-32.

61. Ibid., pp. 225-32; Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 194-96; Maj. Gen. Samuel C.

Phillips to J. Leland Atwood, NAA, Dec. 19, 1965, with encls.

62. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 183-85, 208.

63. Eugene M. Shoemaker interview, Mar. 17, 1984.

64. Charles D. Benson and William Barnaby Faherty, Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch Facilities

and Operations, NASA SP-4204 (Washington, 1978), pp. 384-87.

CHAPTER 7

1. Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), pp. 214-17; Charles D. Benson and William Barnaby Faherty, Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch Facilities and Operations,

NASA SP-4204 (Washington, 1978), pp. 390-94.

2. One author has characterized the media coverage of the early period as based on the unspoken

view (based on several widely publicized failures) that "our boys always botch it and our rockets

always blow up, " and suggests that journalists uncritically emphasized the risks of manned space

flight. Tom Wolfe, The Right Stuff (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1979). Wolfe's

conclusion—supported by the (admittedly subjective) recollections of the present author, who

watched many of the launches, from Mercury through Apollo, on television—gains credibility

after viewing a television documentary entitled "Spaceflight," broadcast on the Public Broadcasting System in May 1985. In an interview on that program Walter Cronkite, who was a principal figure in the Columbia Broadcasting System's coverage of manned space flight, recalled

that the history of failure in rocket tests up to 1961 heightened his perception of the danger to

the astronaut. The astronauts did not share this apprehension; their day-to-day participation in

hardware development gave them an informed estimate of the danger they faced.

3. "Entire Crew of Mission Set for Feb. 21 Is Lost; Grissom, White, Chaffee," Washington Post, Jan.

18, 1967.

4. "Is Moon Travel Worth the Cost?" Chicago Tribune, Jan. 29, 1967; "The Space 'Success Schedule,' " Philadelphia Inquirer, Jan. 30, 1967; "A Time for Deliberation," Washington Evening Star,

Feb. 1, 1967; "Haste in Space," Wall Street Journal, Feb. 20, 1967; "The Legacy of Counterfeit

Crisis," ibid., Apr. 13, 1967; Jerry E. Bishop, "Moon Race: Can't Machines Do It?" ibid., Apr.

16, 1967.

5. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 219-21.

6. Ibid.; Report of Apollo 204 Review Board to the Administrator, National Aeronautics and Space Administration (Washington, 1967), Floyd L. Thompson, chmn., Apr. 5, 1967. See also House Subcommittee on NASA Oversight of the Committee on Science and Astronautics, Investigation into Apollo

204 Accident, hearings, 9011, Apr. 10 to May 10, 1967; Senate Committee on Aeronautical and

Space Sciences, Apollo Accident, hearings, 901 and 902, pts. 1-8, 1967-68; idem, Apollo 204 Accident: Report, S. Rept. 956, 90/2, Jan. 30, 1968.

7. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 222-27; House, Investigation, passim.

8. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, p. 225.

9. Oscar Griffin, "Rep. Rumsfeld Criticizes NASA For Lack of Reports Before Fire," Houston Chronicle,

July 19, 1967; "NASA Losing Its Support, Casey Says," ibid.; W. David Compton and Charles

286
Source Notes

D. Benson, Living and Working in Space; A History of Skylab, NASA SP-4208 (Washington, 1983),

p.84-91.

10. House, Investigation, pp. 10-11; J.V. Reistrup, "Webb Defends Judgment on Apollo," Washington

Post, Apr. 11, 1967. Considerable misunderstanding was generated when members of the

committees demanded to see the "Phillips Report," which both NASA officials and North American

executives professed not to recognize by that name. The members of Congress were referring

to a hard-hitting critique of NAA's management, which Gen. Sam Phillips had submitted to NASA

and to the contractor in late 1965 (see Chap. 6), but because it took the form of notes enclosed

with a letter it was not called a "report." When the document was finally identified, however,

Webb, Mueller, and Phillips provoked charges of a cover-up by refusing to furnish it to the committees on the grounds that public disclosure could undermine NASA-contractor relations; William Hines, "Ryan Says NASA Knew of Apollo 'Incompetence,' " Washington Evening Star, Apr.

26, 1967; Thomas O'Toole, "NASA Accused of Covering Up Troubles," Washington Post, May

11, 1%7. On this point S. Rept. 956 (see note 6, above) stresses the effect of NASA officials' behavior

on the legislators' confidence in the agency; see "Additional Views of Mr. Brooke and Mr. Percy,"

pp. 12-14, and "Additional Views of Mr. Mondale," pp. 15-16. For more extensive discussion

of the fire and its aftermath, see Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots; Benson and Faherty,

Moonport; and the records of the Senate and House committee investigations cited earlier.

As the investigations proceeded, the press raised allegations of questionable political deals that

gave North American the contract for the command and service module; see Harry Schwartz,

"Unanswered Questions on the Apollo Tragedy," New York Times, Apr. 15, 1967; William Hines,

"Apollo: A Shining Vision in Trouble," Washington Star, May 21, 1967. These allegations were

never put in the committee records and remained unsubstantiated. Three years later, however,

they were revived in Journey to Tranquility (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday and Co., 1970), by three

English journalists, Hugo Young, Bryan Silcock, and Peter Dunn.

11. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 225-32; Benson and Faherty, Moonport,

pp. 401-402.

12. OMSF, "Manned Space Flight Schedules, vol. I, Level 1 Schedules and Resources Summary,"

Dec. 1966; House Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight of the Committee on Science and

Astronautics, 1967 NASA Authorization, hearings on H.R. 12718, 89/2, pt. 2, pp. 72-76.

13. OMSF, "Manned Space Flight Schedules, vol. I, Level 1 Schedules and Resources Summary,"

May 1967.

14. Ibid., February 1966.

15. John T. Holloway to Dir., MSC, "Development of Experiments for the Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package (ALSEP)," Apr. 14, 1966.

16. OMSF, "Manned Space Flight Schedules, vol. I, Level 1 Schedules and Resources Summary,"

Nov. 1966.

17. William T. O'Bryant to MSC, attn. Robert O. Piland, "Guidelines for Possible Substitution of

Other Instruments for the Lunar Surface Magnetometer in ALSEP," Dec. 23, 1966.; D.K. Slayton to Mgr., Experiments Program Off., "Possible Replacement of the Lunar Surface Magnetometer on ALSEP," Dec. 22, 1%6.

18. Anon., "ALSEP OSSA Review, October 3, 1966."

19. Slayton to Director, Engineering and Development, "Comments on the ALSEP Delta Preliminary Design Review," Dec. 15, 1966.

20. OMSF, "Manned Space Flight Schedules, vol. 1, Level 1 Schedules and Resources Summary,"

July 1967, pp. 49, 33.

21. Leonard Reiffel to Gen. S.C. Phillips, "Flight Schedule for ALSEP and Related Matters," June

20, 1967.

22. Harrison H. Schmitt interview, May 30, 1984.

23. Phillips to Administrator, "Lunar Surface Magnetometer," June 6, 1967; Piland to Mgr., Apollo

Spacecraft Program Office, "ALSEP Program Review with General Phillips, June 1, 1967," June

7, 1967.

24. Phillips to Dep. Adm.,"Lunar Surface Magnetometer," July 5, 1967, with encl., preliminary report

of review team; Phillips to Dep. Adm., same subj., Aug. 30, 1967; John F. Parsons (Ames Res.

Ctr.) to NASA Hqs., attn. Dr. James H. Tumock, "Lunar Surface Magnetometer Program," Aug.

31, 1967.

287
Where No Man Has Gone Before

25. OMSF, "Manned Space Flight Schedules, vol. I, Level 1 Schedules and Resources Summary,"

monthly issues, Jan. 9 through Oct. 8, 1968.

26. Arnold S. Levine, Managing NASA in the Apollo Era, NASA SP4102 (Washington, 1982), pp. 239-53;

Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, pp. 40-44, 46-48, 79-82.

27. President's Science Advisory Committee, The Space Program in the Post-Apollo Period (The White

House, February 1967), pp. 13-16.

28. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 362-63.

29. 1967 Summer Study of Lunar Science and Exploration, NASA SP-157 (Washington, 1967), pp. 3-6.

30. Anon., "Falmouth plus two years or how much nearer is the whale to the water?" no date [c.

Aug. 1966].

31. 1967 Summer Study of Lunar Science and Exploration, pp. 9-11.

32. Ibid., pp. 12-13.

33. Ibid., pp. 18-19.

34. Ibid., p. 19.

35. Ibid., pp. 19-29.

36. Ibid., p. 4.

37. Minutes of the Lunar Mission Planning Board, Sept. 28, 1967.

38. Robert R. Gilruth, TWX to Hqs., subj. "OSSA Activities—Weekly Report," Nov. 30, 1967.

39. Homer E. Newell to Gilruth, Nov. 20, 1967.

40. Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, pp. 83-102.

41. Weekly Compilation of Presidential Documents, vol. 3, no. 34, p. 1193.

42. Senate, Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, NASA's Proposed Operating Plan for Fiscal Year 1968, hearing, 90/1, Nov. 8, 1967. For the tribulations and demise of Voyager, see Edward

Clinton Ezell and Linda Neuman Ezell, On Mars: Exploration of the Red Planet 1958-1978, NASA

SP-4212 (Washington, 1984), pp. 85-119; for a general discussion of NASA's budget process and

the "phasing down of the space program" in the middle to late 1960s, see Arnold S. Levine,

Managing NASA in the Apollo Era, NASA SP-4102 (Washington, 1982), pp. 179-209.

43. Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, chapters 3 and 5, deal with AAP's fluctuating

plans and fortunes during the period before Apollo 11.

44. Robert C. Seamans, Jr., memorandum for the record, subj.: "Apollo Program Decisions—Manned

Apollo Flights and Apollo Applications Program Plans," May 17, 1967.

45. "Unified Lunar Exploration Office," NASA Release 68-5, Jan. 4, 1968; Philip E. Culbertson to

Wilmot N. Hess, Jan. 3, 1968.

46. Gilruth to Newell, "Principal Investigator requirements for the Lunar Receiving Laboratory (LRL),"

Jan. 11, 1967.

47. Joseph V. Piland, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Bi-weekly Status Reports," Jan. 9, Jan. 23, Feb.

6, Feb. 20, Mar. 6, Mar. 20, Apr. 3, Apr. 17, 1967; Piland to Dir., MSC, "Phase-out of Lunar

Receiving Laboratory Program Office," Apr. 14, 1967.

48. Clark Goodman to members of LRL Working Group, "Science and Applications Directorate at

MSC," no date [c. Jan. 14, 1967].

49. MSC Announcements no. 67-7, "Organization and Personnel Assignments for the Science and

Applications Directorate," Jan. 10, 1967, and 67-4, "Interim Plan for the Management and Operation of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Jan. 13, 1967.

50. Melvin Calvin to Newell, Dec. 29, 1966; Paul E. Purser to Deputy Dir., MSC, "Planetary Biology

Subcommittee Meeting at MSC on January 10-11, 1967," Jan. 17, 1967.

51. George M. Low, "Resume of Meeting of January 16, 1967, at the Communicable Disease Center,

Atlanta, Georgia," Jan. 16, 1967.

52. "First Lunar Samples Set for Experiment by 110 Scientists," Hqs. Release 67-55, Mar. 16, 1967.

53. Low to John E. Naugle, Mar. 9, 1967; Newell to MSC, "Lunar Sample Analysis Planning," June

16, 1967.

54. Gilruth to John E. Naugle, "Lunar Sample Analysis Planning," Nov. 15, 1967.

55. Ibid.

56. MSC Announcement 67-140, "Designation of Chief, Lunar and Earth Sciences Division," Oct.

11, 1967.

57. Low to Earle Young, "Various documents concerning back-contamination and lunar sample

release," Jan. 23, 1967.

288
Source Notes

58. Robert L. Tweedie, memo for record, "NASA/DOD Interface Conference, Recovery Quarantine

Equipment," Aug. 25, 1966; James C. McLane, Jr., to C.R. Haines, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory

(LRL) functional interfaces with the Apollo Command Module and returned astronauts," Aug.

24, 1966.

59. John E. Pickering, "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination," Oct. 3, 1966.

60. Collection of related documents, "Interagency Committee on Back Contamination," no date

[approx. Aug. 1966], box 076-12, JSC History Office files.

61. Aleck C. Bond to record, "Interagency Committee Meeting, October 3, 1966," Oct. 6, 1966,

62. W.W. Kemmerer, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Sample Protocol Briefing December 16, 1966,"

Dec. 16, 1966; Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, Dec. 16, 1966.

63. Wolf Vishniac to Dr. Harry S. Lipscomb (Baylor Coll. of Med.), Feb. 2, 1967.

64. Bond to Deputy Dir., MSC, 'Biological protocol for LRL," Feb. 9. 1967.

65. Pickering, "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination," Mar. 2, 1967.

66. Pickering, "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination," June 7, 1967.

67. Interagency Committee on Back Contamination. "Quarantine Schemes for Manned Lunar Missions," no date [Aug. 19671.

68. George E. Mueller to Gilruth, June 2, 1967.

69. Joseph V. Piland to Dir., Science and Applications, "Simulated handling of astronauts and returned

equipment for Apollo missions," Aug. 9, 1967.

70. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 228-35.

71. Bilstein, Stages to Saturn, pp. 211-33.

72. Ibid., pp. 355-60; Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 232-34; Benson and Faherty,

Moonport, pp. 403-29; MSC, "Apollo 4 Mission Report," MSC-PA-R-68-1, Jan., 1968, pp. 1-1

through 1-4; MSFC, "Saturn V AS-501 Flight Evaluation," MPR-SAT-FE-68-1, Jan. 15, 1968, pp.

xxxviii-xlii.

73. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 234-35.

74. James E. Webb to Frank B. Smith, Jan. 7, 1967; Webb to Frederick Seitz, NAS, Feb. 2, 1967; Philip

H. Whitbeck to Deputy Dir., Administration, MSC, "Operation of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Feb. 14, 1967, with encl., "Report on meeting with Mr. Webb on organizational location

and operation of the lunar receiving laboratory"; Newell, draft memo to Seamans, "Manned

Spacecraft Center Science and Applications Directorate and the National Lunar Research Laboratory," Mar. 2, 1967; Smith, "Comments Made at MSC at 3/16/67 Meeting with Dr. Seitz, George

Low, et al., Relative to Management of the LRL," Mar. 27, 1967; anon., viewgraph for presentations on functions of Center for Lunar and Earth Sciences, Dec. 20, 1967, JSC History Office files,

box 076-41.

75. OMSF, "Manned Space Flight Schedules, vol. I, Level 1 Schedules and Resources Summary,"

Jan. 9, 1968, pp. ii, 27-29.

CHAPTER 8

1. Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), pp. 228-29, 237-41.

2. Ibid., pp. 244-47.

3. Ibid., pp. 241-53; Roger E. Bilstein, Stages to Saturn: A Technological History of the Apollo/Saturn

Launch Vehicles, NASA SP-4206 (Washington, 1980), pp. 360-63.

4. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, P. 253.

5. Leonard Reiffel to Gen. S. C. Phillips, "Flight Schedule for ALSEP and Related Matters," June

10, 1967.

6. Donald K. Slayton to Du., Science and Applications (MSC), "Apollo Lunar Surface Operations

Planning," Feb. 28, 1968.

289
Where No Man Has Gone Before

7. Verl R. Wilmarth, "Summary Minutes, Planetology Subcommittee of the Space Science and Applications Steering Committee (Meeting No. 3-FY68), May 15, 16, 17, 1968"; Edward M. Davin to

Mgr., Apollo Surface Expts. Program, "Contingency Science Payloads," July 3, 1968; Richard

J. Green to MSC, attn.: John W. Small, "Science Payload Options, July 3, 1968.

8. George E. Mueller to Robert R. Gilruth, June 5, 1968; Gilruth to Mueller, June 27, 1968.

9. Phillips to Dr. Charles H. Townes, Aug. 31, 1968, with encl., letter to members of OMSF Science

and Technology Advisory Committee, same date.

10. George M. Low to G. W. S. Abbey, "Lunar Mission Planning," Sept. 3, 1968; Wilmot N. Hess

to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program (MSC), "Changes in Mission G Plans," Sept. 4, 1968.

11 Hess to Dir. (MSC) , "Contingency Apollo Science Program," Sept. 30, 1968, with encl., "Contingency Apollo Science Program Implementation Plan" (preliminary), Sept. 27, 1968; idem, "Plans

for Alternate Science Program on First Apollo Lunar Landing," Oct. 4, 1968.

12. Mueller, TWX to MSC attn.: Robert R. Gilruth, Nov. 5, 1968.

13. A. E. Morse, Jr., to Mgr., Apollo program, "KSC support for the LM-5 Early Apollo Scientific

Experiment Payload (EASEP)," Nov. 12, 1968; Phillips to Gilruth, Nov. 15, 1968.

14. Phillips to Gilruth, Nov. 15, 1968.

15. Phillips, TWX to MSC attn.: G. M. Low, W. N. Hess, "Experiment Assignments to Lunar Missions," Dec. 5, 1968.

16. Wilmarth, "Summary Minutes."

17. Gilruth to Hqs., attn.: E. Taylor, TWX, "OSSA Activities—Weekly Report," Oct. 24, 1968.

18. MSC, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Briefing," transcript of presentation, June 29, 1967; MSC,

"Annual Report for Calendar Year 1967, The D rectorate of Medical Research and Operations, i

Manned Spacecraft Center," n.d. [Dec. 1967].

19. Edgar M. Cortright to Gilruth, Mar. 27, 1968; Hess to Dir., Medical Research & Operations, "Initiation of monthly review meetings on LRL," Mar. 29, 1968.

20. Hess to multiple addressees, "Preliminary Examination Team Simulation Tests and Full Scale

LRL Simulation," Aug. 20, 1968.

21. Gilruth to Charles W. Mathews, May 17, 1968; Minutes, Monthly LRL Reviews, June 10, July

1, Aug. 12, 1968.

22. MSC, "Minutes of Monthly LRL Review," Sept. 16, 1968; John E. Pickering, "Trip Report [to

LRL monthly manager's review]," Sept. 18, 1968.

23. P. R. Bell to Martin Favero, June 18, 1968; "[Minutes,] Lunar Science Analysis Planning Team,

July 26 [1968]"; Hess to multiple addressees, "Preliminary Examination Team Simulation Tests

and Full Scale LRL Simulation," Aug. 20, 1968.

24. Gilruth to Edward H. Levi (Univ. of Chicago), Feb. 25, 1969.

25. Bell to Members of Preliminary Examination Team, "The Preliminary Examination Team simulation and training session, October 22 through November 1, 1968," Oct. 16, 1968.

26. Test dir., vacuum laboratory, "Report on PET Simulation, October 25-30, 1968," Oct. 31, 1968;

Bell to Dir., Science and Applications, "LRL Equipment and System Problems, Nov. 7, 1968.

27. Hess to L. R. Scherer, "Changes in the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Dec. 6, 1968; Hess to LRL

Staff, "Configuration Control Board (CCB)," Dec. 6, 1968.

28. Gilruth to multiple addressees, "Operational Readiness Inspection of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Oct. 21, 1968.

29. Peter J. Armitage to multiple addressees: "Minutes of the First ORI Committee Meeting for the

Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Nov. 5, 1968; "Minutes of the Second ORI Committee Meeting

for the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Nov. 22, 1968; "Minutes of the Third ORI Committee Meeting

for the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Dec. 4, 1968; "Minutes of the Fourth ORI Committee Meeting

for the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Dec. 4, 1968; "Status of the Operational Readiness Inspection on the Lunar Receiving Laboratory and the Recovery Quarantine Equipment," Dec. 19, 1968;

"Minutes of the Fifth ORI Committee Meeting for the Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Dec. 23, 1968.

30. Armitage, "Final Report, Operational Readiness Inspection of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory

and Recovery Quarantine Equipment," May 7, 1969.

31. John E. Pickering, "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, 8-9 Feb. 1968."

32. Idem, "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, 11 June 1968."

33. Idem, "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, 17-18 Oct. 1968."

34. Richard S. Johnston to C. C. Kraft, M. A. Faget, and C. A. Berry, "Apollo Back Contamination,"

Nov. 8, 1968.

290
Source Notes

35. Johnston to multiple addressees, "Back-Contamination program review," Jan. 16, 1969; "ICBC

Meeting at MSC on March 28 and 19," Mar. 18, 1969.

36. Gilruth to Maj. Gen. J. W. Humphreys, Jr., Mar. 19, 1969.

37. Pickering, "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, 28-29 March 1969."

38. David J. Sencer to Thomas O. Paine, Apr. 7, 1969.

39. S. C. Phillips, TWX to MSC, attn.: G. M. Low, "Biological containment on 'G' mission prior

to entry into MQF," Apr. 10, 1969.

40. Ibid.; Low to multiple addressees, "Apollo Back Contamination Action Items," Apr. 14, 1969;

Low to Phillips, "Apollo Back Contamination Action Status," Apr. 15, 1969.

41. Low to Phillips, "Transmittal of Summary Report and Actions from Back Contamination LDX

Conference Held April 21, 1969," Apr. 24, 1969, with encl., Low to Multiple Addressees, "Back

Contamination LDX Conference held April 21, 1969, Between MSC/NASA Headquarters; minutes

and action items," Apr. 24, 1969.

42. MSC Announcement 69-60, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Operations," May 1, 1969.

43. Johnston, draft of MSC position paper on Apollo back contamination program, Apr. 25, 1969.

44. Pickering, "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, 2 May 1969."

45. Phillips to Gilruth, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Readiness Review," Jan. 16, 1969; Gilruth to

Phillips, Jan. 29, 1969, with tentative agenda for proposed review.

46. Mueller to Gilruth, Jan. 13, 1969; Gilruth to Mueller, Feb. 8, 1969.

47. A. B. Park to Pickering, Mar. 7, 1969, with encl., "Report by U.S. Department of Agriculture

Team on Lunar Receiving Laboratory Evaluation for Quarantine Requirements," n.d.; Howard

H. Eckels to Pickering, Mar. 11, 1969, with encl., "Department of Interior Observations on the

Lunar Receiving Laboratory Procedures Relative to Invertebrate and Fish Species, February 12,

13, and 14, 1969"; idem, Feb. 27, 1969, with encl., Kenneth E. Wolf to Eckles, "Technical Review

of Lunar Receiving Laboratory," Feb. 25, 1%9; Pickering to Dir., Apollo Program, "LRL Bioprotocol

Readiness Review and Certification Procedures," Feb. 24, 1969.

48. MSC, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Simulation Plan, March 3-April 16, 1969," n.d., pp. 1-2.

49. Rudy Trabanino to LTD's [Laboratory Test Drectors], "Debriefing of Laboratory Personnel," Mar. i

16, 1969; D. White to LTD's, "Critique of 3-13 March Simulation in Vacuum Laboratory—Shift

I," Mar. 16, 1969; T. McPherson to LTD's, "Vacuum Laboratory Critique—Second Shift," Mar.

16, 1969; Trabanino to LTD's, "Critical Vacuum Laboratory Problems," Mar. 21, 1969; O. A.

Schaeffer and J. G. Funkhauser to Bryan Erb, "Leak Checking of RCL Containers with Gas Analysis

System," Mar. 24, 1969; Bell to Deputy Mgr., LRL, "Problems Identified in February and March

LRL simulations," Mar. 27, 1969; H. C. Sweet and Charles H. Walkinsbau, Jr., "Summary of

Simulation of Botanical Protocol—March 1969," n.d. [Mar. 19691; "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, 28-29 March 1%9—Manned Spacecraft Center—Houston, Texas,"

Mar. 29, 1969; Trabanino, "Critical Vacuum Laboratory Problems," Apr. 3, 1969.

50. Hess to Bell, "Organic Contamination of F201," Apr. 8, 1969.

51. Johnston to multiple addressees, "Action items from Interagency Committee on Back Contamination (ICBC) Meeting," May 5, 1969; Gilruth to multiple addressees, "Establishment of Apollo

Back Contamination Control Panel," May 8, 1969; Johnston to Chief, Crew Systems Div., and

Chief, Flight Crew Support Div., "Lunar Module Back Contamination Simulation, May 12, 1969;

Johnston to Col. John E. Pickering, May 14, 1969; Johnston to multiple addressees, "Action Items

from Interagency Committee on Back Contamination (ICBC) Meeting, May 2, 1969," May 15,

1969; idem, "ICBC Telephone Conference Summary and Action Items," May 21, 1969; MSC,

"Back Contamination Mission Rules (Recovery to Receiving Lab)," MSC 00005, May 21, 1969;

Low to multiple addressees, "Back Contamination Procedures, May 20, 1969; Robert E. Smylie

to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Back Contamination Procedures," May 22, 1969; Johnston

to multiple addressees, "Apollo Back Contamination Simulation Meeting Summary," May 23,

1969; idem, "Back Contamination Action Items," May 28, 1969.

52. Mueller to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report," June 9, 1969.

53. Johnston to multiple addressees, "Apollo Back Contamination Simulation Meeting Summary,

May 23, 1969.

54. Sencer to Paine, Apr. 7, 1969.

55. W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA

SP-4208 (Washington, 1983) , pp. 99-102.

291
Where No Man Has Gone Before

56. Hess to MSC Dir., "Summary OSSA Senior Council Meeting," Apr. 30,1968; Hess to John E.

Naugle, "Staffing of the LRL," June 6,1968; Naugle to Hess, same sub., July 9,1968; M. L. Raines

to Assoc. Dir., "Systems and Support Contractor Reduction," July 12, 1968; MSC, "Minutes

of Monthly LRL Review, September 16, 1968"; Earle B. Young to LRL ORI Committee, "Proposed LRL Staffing," Nov. 26, 1968; P.R. Bell to Dir., Science and Applications, "Staffing Plan

for the Lunar and Receiving Laboratory," Jan. 17, 1969; Wesley L. Hjornevik to Lt. Gen. Frank

A. Bogart, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Staffing, Jan. 27, 1969; MSC, "LRL Staffing Plan Status, April 8, 1969, Science & Applications Directorate and Medical Research & Operations Directorate."

57. John D. Stevenson, TWX to multiple addressees, "MSF mission operations forecast for January

1969," Jan. 3, 1969; Gilruth to Stevenson, "Ability to support launch schedule for CY 1969,"

Mar. 4, 1969.

58. Bell to Dir., Science and Applications, "Staffing plan for the Lunar and Receiving Laboratory,"

Jan. 17, 1969.

59. W. W. Kemmerer, Jr., to all LRL personnel, "Initiation of mission operating conditions for the

Sample Laboratory secondary biological barrier," June 3, 1969.

60. Johnston to all NASA LRL personnel, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Apollo 11 Task Group," June

4, 1969.

61. MSC, "Lunar Landing Site Selection Briefing, Compilation of Presentation Material," Mar. 8,

1967; John E. Eggleston to Dir., Science and Applications, "Trip report—Apollo Site Selection

Board Meeting; Surveyor/ Orbiter Utilization Committee Meeting," Apr. 3, 1967; Owen E. Maynard to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program Office, "Trip report—Apollo Site Selection Board and

Surveyor/ Orbiter Utilization Committee Meetings," Apr. 20, 1967.

62. Low to Hqs., attn. Dr. James A. Tumock, "Selection of Lunar Landing Sites for First Lunar Landing

Mission," Sept. 3, 1967.

63. Phillips to multiple addressees, "Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board meeting of December 15, 1967," Jan. 29, 1968; MSC, "Apollo Site Selection Board Briefing, Compilation of Presentation Material," Dec. 15, 1967.

64. Ibid.

65. Ibid.

66. Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, p. 87; Robert C. Seamans, Jr., to Mueller, "Termination of the Lunar Mapping and Survey System," July 25, 1967; U.S., Congress, House, Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight of the Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1968 NASA

Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 4450, H.R. 6470, 90/1, pt. 2, pp. 127-28, 568-69; idem, 1969 NASA

Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 15086, 90/2, pt. 2, p. 64.

67. Phillips to Gilruth, "Lunar Photography from the CSM," Mar. 29, 1968.

68. John R. Brinkmann to Chief, Syst. Eng. Div., "Lunar photography from the CSM," May 13, 1968;

Warren J. North to Chief, Syst. Eng. Div., same subj., May 15, 1968.

69. MSC, "MSC Lunar Scientific Exploration Plan," Apr. 14, 1967.

70. Hess to multiple addressees, "Pre-GLEP meeting January 10 in Washington, D.C.," Jan. 3, 1968.

71. NASA Hqs., "The Plan for Lunar Exploration," Feb. 1968.

72. Ibid.

73. Ibid.

74. Gilruth to Mueller, Mar. 4, 1968.

75. Gilruth to Mueller, Apr. 1, 1968.

76. House, Subcommittee on Manned Space Flight of the Committee on Science and Astronautics,

1969 NASA, Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 15086, 90/2, pt. 2, pp. 26-35. The same plan was

presented by John E. Naugle to the subcommittee on science and applications, also without

stimulating discussion; see idem, Subcommittee on Space Science and Applications of the Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1969 NASA Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 15086, 9012, pt.

3, pp. 146-58.

77. Andre J. Meyer, Jr., "Minutes of the Lunar Mission Planning Board," Feb. 13, 1968.

78. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 237-53.

79. Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, pp. 99-104.

80. Phillips, "Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting of March 26, 1968," May 6, 1968.

81. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 265-72.

82. Ibid., pp. 256-60, 272-74.

292
Source Notes

83. Ibid.

84. Ibid., pp. 274-84.

85. MSC PA-R-69-1, "Apollo 8 Mission Report," Feb. 1969, p. 3-2.

86. Ibid., pp. 4-1 to 4-9.

87. Ibid., pp. 4-8 to 4-9, 7-19 to 7-20.

88. John D. Stevenson, TWX, "MSF Mission Operations Forecast for January 1969," Jan. 3, 1969.

CHAPTER 9

1. Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), p. 261.

2. Ibid., pp. 261-62.

3. Interview with Joseph P. Kerwin, Jr., Mar. 29, 1985; interview with John R. Sevier, Apr. 24, 1986.

4. NASA Release 67-211, Aug. 4, 1967.

5. W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA

SP-4208 (Washington, 1983), pp. 84-86.

6. Interview with Donald K. Slayton, Oct. 15, 1984.

7. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 373-77.

8. Ibid., pp. 234-35.

9. Ibid., pp. 290-91.

10. Ibid., pp. 292-99; "Apollo 9 Mission Report," MSC PA-R-69-2, May 1969, pp. 1-1 to 1-2.

11. "Apollo 10 Mission Report," MSC-00126, Aug. 1969, p. 3-1.

12. Charles D. Benson and William Barnaby Faherty, Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch Facilities

and Operations, NASA SP-4204 (Washington, 1978), p. 474.

13. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 303-12.

14. [bid., pp. 318-26; MSC, "Apollo 11 Crew Training Summaries (Jan. 31-July 15, 1969)," folder

in box 081-13, JSC History Office Apollo files.

15. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 322-25; Langley Research Center, "Lunar Landing

Research Facility and Landing Loads Track," presentation at Field Inspection of Advanced Research

and Technology, Hampton, Va., May 18-22, 1964, copy in box 081-45, JSC History Office Apollo

files; George E. Mueller to Robert R. Gilruth, Feb. 19, 1969; Gilruth to Mueller, Apr. 1, 1969.

16. Bell Aerosystems Co. release, Jan. 20, 1967, in box 081-45, JSC History Office Apollo files; several

good photographs of the LLTV in flight are found in "Series of Lunar Landings Simulated,"

Aviation Week & Space Technology, June 30, 1969. See also David F. Gebhard, "Factors in the Choice

of LEM Piloting and Testing Techniques," SAE Preprint 866F, April 1964; Gene J. Matringa, Donald

L. Mallick, and Emil E. Kleuver, "An Assessment of Ground and Flight Simulators for the Examination of Manned Lunar Landing," AIAA Paper 67-238, presented at AIAA Flight Test, Simulation and Support Conference, Cocoa Beach, Fla., Feb. 6-8, 1967; and James P. Bigham, Jr. , "The

lunar landing training vehicle," Simulation, July 1970, pp. 17-18, copies in box 081-46, JSC History Office Apollo files; Richard H. Holzapfel, TWX to NASA, attn.: B. P. Helgeson, May 7, 1968;

T. O. Paine to LLRV-1 Review Board, "Investigation and Review of Crash of Lunar Landing Training Vehicle #1," Dec. 11, 1968; idem, "Investigation and Review of Crash of Lunar Landing

Research Vehicle #1," Dec. 31, 1968.

17. Bigham, "The Lunar Landing Training Vehicle."

18. "Apollo 11 Crew Training Summary."

19. Elbert A. King, Jr., interview with Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., May 17, 1971, tape in JSC History Office

Apollo files.

20. Mueller to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Report—May 26, 1969."

21. Idem, Manned Space Flight Reports: May 26, June 2, 9, 16, 23, 30, 1969; "Apollo 11 Crew Training Summary"; Slayton, Flight Crew Operations Drectorate Weekly Activity Reports: May 30, i

June 6, 13, 20, July 3, 11, 18, 1969.

22, Julian Scheer to Slayton, June 3, 1969; Slayton to Scheer, "Attendance of Apollo 10 and 11 crews

at White House dinner," June 9, 1969.

293
Where No Man Has Gone Before

23. Mueller to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—July 7, 1969."

24. Slayton, "Weekly Activity Report—June 14-20, 1969, Flight Crew Operations Directorate."

25. Mueller to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—June 23, 1969"; ibid. , June

9, 1969; Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 318-26, 332-34.

26. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 337-44; MSC, "Apollo 11 Technical Air-to-Ground

Voice Transcription (GOSS Net 1)," July 1969 (hereinafter cited as "Air-to-Ground"), p. 317.

27. Air-to-Ground, p. 319.

28. Ibid., p. 321.

29. [bid., p. 324.

30. Ibid., p. 335.

31. Ibid., pp. 322, 332-33, 336, 343-46, 349-50, 412-15.

32. Air-to-Ground, p. 377; Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, p. 346. After the crew returned

to Houston, press representatives repeatedly asked what Armstrong had actually said. The Apollo

news center at MSC issued the following release (copy in box 078-56, JSC History Office files)

on July 30, 1969: "Armstrong said that his words when he first stepped onto the moon were:

"That's one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind" not "That's one small step for

man, one giant leap for mankind" as originally transcribed."

33. Air-to-Ground, pp. 377-79.

34. Ibid., pp. 379-400.

35. King interview.

36. Air-to-Ground, pp. 400-406.

37. Ibid., pp. 407-30.

38. [bid., pp. 434-51.

39. Ibid., pp. 460-88; MSC, "Apollo 11 Technical Crew Debriefing, July 31,1969," pp. 12-41 to 12-43.

40. Air-to-Ground, pp. 488-505.

41. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, pp. 355-57; "Technical Crew Debriefing," pp. 16-7

to 16-12; Neil A. Armstrong, Michael Collins, and Edwin E. Aldrin, Jr., to Dir., Flight Crew Operations, "Suitability of the Biological Isolation Garments," Oct. 2, 1969.

42. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, p. 357.

43. "Apollo 11 Mission Report," MSC-00171, pp. 13-3 to 13-5.

44. "Apollo 11 Mission Report," pp. 13-3 to 13-5; Kenneth L. Suit, "LRL Apollo 11 Daily Summary

Report (1200 July 24 to 1200 July 25)," July 25, 1969.

45. Suit, "Apollo 11 LRL Daily Summary Report, 1200 July 25 to 1200 July 26."

46. Victor Cohn, "Old Moon Game Taunts Players," Washington Post, Sept. 21, 1969.

47. MSC, "LRL Daily Summary Report No. 3," July 26, 1969.

48. Suit, "Apollo 11 LRL Daily Summary Report, 1200 July 25 to 1200 July 26."

49. [Suit], "Apollo 11 LTD Daily Summary Report, 1200 July 26 to 1200 July 27"; Richard S. Johnston, "LRL Daily Summary Report No. 4," July 27, 1969.

50. Cohn, "Old Moon Game"; "Scientists Get First Look at Moon Rocks," Washington Sunday Star,

July 27, 1969.

51. Johnston, "LRL Daily Summary Report No. 4."

52. Lunar Sample Preliminary Examination Team, "Preliminary Examination of Lunar Samples from

Apollo 11," Science 165 (1969): 1211-17 (19 Sept. 1969).

53. Johnston, "LRL Daily Summary Report No. 4"; Cohn, "Old Moon Game."

54. Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team, "Sample Information Summary #1," July 29, 1969, "Sample

Information Summary #2," July 31, 1969.

55. "Sample Information Summary #1."

56. "LRL Summary Report No. 7," July 31, 1969.

57. "LRL Summary Report No. 8," Aug. 1, 1969.

58. [bid.

59. "LRL Summary Report No. 9," Aug. 2,1969; "Sample Information Summary #3," Aug. 2, 1969.

60. [bid.; Johnston, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Sample Flow Directive, Revision A," MSC-00002,

July 1, 1969, p. 6.

61. "Apollo 11 Mission Report," p. 13-4.

62. Ibid.

63. MSC Public Affairs Office, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory— Status Report No. 1," July 21, 1969.

294
Source Notes

64. Idem, "Status Report, John McLeaish Comments on Crew, 7/28/69, CDT 08:05 AM," July 28,

1969; Richard S. Johnston, Lawrence F. Dietlein, M.D., and Charles A. Berry, M.D., eds., Biomedical Results of Apollo, NASA SP-368 (Washington, 1975), p. 418. If indeed there was a serious

risk of contaminating the earth with alien organisms, the decision to breach quarantine in the

event of a life-threatening emergency would have meant taking that risk rather than sacrificing

an astronaut. No one seems to have contested that decision; perhaps this indicates the real perception of risk from "moon bugs."

65. MSC, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory, MSC Building 37, Facility Description," September 1968,

pp. 8-19; "Apollo 11 Technical Crew Debriefing," vol. II, p. 26-4.

66. MSC Public Affairs Office, Crew Status Reports, July 28-Aug. 10, 1969.

67. George M. Low to NASA Hqs., attn.: Lt. Gen. S. C. Phillips, "Special Lunar Samples for Museum

Display or Presentation to VIPs," July 7, 1969.

68. Phillips to Low, "Lunar Sample Accounting," Aug. 5, 1969.

69. Willis H. Shapley to multiple addressees, "Lunar Sample Material," Aug. 19, 1969. It was reported

that Nixon offered the President of Indonesia and other chiefs of state "a piece of the moon as

a souvenir"; New York Times, July 28, 1969, cited in Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1969: Chronology

on Science, Technology, and Policy, NASA SP-4014 (Washington, 1970), p. 249.

70. Phillips, TWX to Low, Aug. 15, 1969; Robert R. Gilruth to Rocco A. Petrone, "Non-Scientific

Use of Lunar Samples," Sept. 5, 1969.

Forwarding the latter memo to George Low, Wilmot Hess (whose deputy, Anthony Calio, had

drafted it for Gilruth's signature) stressed his own distaste for the plan to present large samples

to VIPs—a distaste that was shared by the lunar scientists. Elbert King, who had been appointed

first curator of lunar samples, did everything he could to prevent distribution of any lunar samples as souvenirs. When he first heard of the plan to present souvenirs to VIPs, his impression

was that "they were talking about big polished pieces of rock for paperweights.... Here was

priceless scientific material that was going to be cut up as political trophies." The White House

proposal was even more offensive to King, and when a Washington paper called him to ask for

his reaction, he commented that it would be unthinkable—a reaction which, he recalled later,

"caused much unhappiness within the center, because here was someone [at MSC] disagreeing

with the President, and that's very poor form." Elbert A. King, Jr., interview with L. S. Swenson, Jr., May 27, 1971, tape in JSC History Office files; Marti Mueller, "Trouble at NASA: Space

Scientists Resign," Science 165 (1969): 776-79.

Nixon had already drawn considerable adverse criticism from some newspapers, which accused

him of trying to turn Apollo to his own political advantage in spite of his negligible record of

supporting the space program. His telephone call to the astronauts on the moon, the addition

of his signature to those of the astronauts on the commemorative plaque on the lunar module

Eagle, and his visit to the Hornet (on his way to a tour of Asia), were all cited as attempts to get

unmerited credit for the Apollo accomplishment. See the editorial in the Washington Post, "Our

Mark on the Moon," July 3, 1969; Herblock's cartoon "Lunar Hitchhiker," Washington Post, July

6, 1969; "Plaque Pique," Washington Evening Star, July 9, 1969; Marianne Means, "President

Nixon and the Astronauts," Los Angeles Herald-Examiner, July 13, 1969; "Hate the President,"

Richmond (Va.) News Leader, July 15, 1%9; William Hines, "Nixon Skims Off the Cream," Washington Sunday Star, July 27, 1969.

71. "8,200 View Moon Rock," Washington Evening Star, Sept. 18, 1969, " 'It looks like any rock,'

Washington Daily News, Sept. 18, 1969.

72. Johnston et al., Biomedical Results of Apollo, p. 419.

73. "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination," Aug. 10, 1969.

74. Don Kirkman, "Germ-Free Apollos Sent Home," Washington Daily News, Aug. 11, 1969; Albert

Sehlstedt, Jr., "Astronauts Brace For Celebrations," Baltimore Sun, Aug. 12, 1969.

75. "Apollo 11 LTD Daily Summary Report, 1200 July 26 to 1200 July 27"; Wilmot N. Hess, "LRL

Summary Report No. 7," July 31, 1969.

76. A summary of the investigations is found in Johnston et al., Biomedical Results of Apollo, pp. 425-34.

77. MSC, "Sample Information Summary #5 Final," Aug. 27, 1%9, p. 13; see also LRL Summary

Reports for Aug. 1 through Aug. 31.

78. J. W. Humphreys, Jr., to Dir., MSC, "Release of all lunar material and lunar exposed material

in Building 37, Manned Spacecraft Center, Houston, Texas," Sept. 11, 1969.

295
Where No Man Has Gone Before

79. Rocco A. Petrone, TWX to Gilruth, "Approval of MSC proposed allocation of Apollo 11 lunar

sample material for distribution to approved principal investigators for scientific analysis," Sept.

9,1969; Petrone, TWX to Gilruth, "Release of lunar samples," Sept. 12,1969; NASA Hqs., "Moon

Surface Samples Distributed," Release No. 69-130, Sept. 12, 1969.

80. Richard A. Wright, "Lunar and Earth Sciences weekly activity report," Oct. 17, 1969.

81. Paine to Gilruth, Sept. 8, 1969. Some investigators did not conform to the ban. In November,

a scientist at the U.S. Geological Survey wrote indignantly to MSC's director of science and applications, enclosing clippings that indicated some findings had been released prematurely and outside

of normal scientific channels. According to one, Harold Urey had stated in a talk in San Diego

that the Apollo 11 samples had been found to be 4.6 billion years old, which supported his theory of the moon's origin. G. Brent Dalrymple to Anthony J. Calio, Nov. 13, 1969, with encl.,

copy of article, "Moon Rocks' Age Is Now Firmly Fixed," San Francisco Chronicle, Nov. 8, 1969.

82. E. F. Bartell (Cornell Univ.), TWX to Space Sciences Procurement Branch, MSC, Sept. 16, 1969.

83. William L. Green, TWX to MSC, attn. Brian Duff, Oct. 3, 1969.

84, Donald U. Wise, TWX to MSC, attn. Dr. W. Hess, Aug. 11, 1969.

85. Philip H. Abelson, "The Moon Issue," Science 167 (1969):447.

86. The Lunar Sample Preliminary Examination Team, "Preliminary Examination of Lunar Samples

from Apollo 11," Science 165 (1969):1211-27.

87. Ibid., p. 1226.

88. Cohn, "Seismometer on Moon Registers Disturbance," Washington Post, July 23, 1969, "Moon

Tremor Recorded by Apollo Device," ibid., July 24, 1969.

89. Idem, "Moon Tremor Recorded."

90. Idem, "Old Moon Game Taunts Players."

91. Mueller, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—July 28, 1969."

CHAPTER 10

1. Stuart Auerbach, "Mariner 6 Relays 33 Pictures of Mars," Washington Post, July 30, 1969; idem,

"Mariner 7 Photographs Mysterious Mars Canals," ibid., Aug. 5, 1969; Edward Clinton Ezell

and Linda Neuman Ezell, On Mars: Exploration of the Red Planet 1958-1978, NASA SP-4212 (Washington, 1984), pp. 74-80, 175-80.

2. W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA

SP-4208 (Washington, 1983), pp. 104-11.

3. Ibid., pp. 115-18; Homer E. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA

SP-4211 (Washington, 1980), pp. 286-89.

4. John Noble Wilford, "A Spacefaring People: Keynote Address," in A Spacefaring People: Perspectives on Early Spaceflight, Alex Roland, ed., NASA SP-4405 (Washington, 1985), p. 72. Wilford,

a veteran reporter and one of the best on space, covered the space program for the New York

Times for many years. He was the keynote speaker at this conference on manned space flight

history at Yale University, Feb. 6-7, 1981. Wilford asserted (p. 71) as one of the major themes

of space history that "The first Apollo landing was, in one sense, a triumph that failed, not because

the achievement was anything short of magnificent but because of misdirected expectations and a general

misperception of its real meaning. The public was encouraged to view it only as the grand climax of the

space program, a geopolitical horse race and extraterrestrial entertainment—not as a dramatic means to the

greater end of developing a far-ranging spacefaring capability. This led to the space program's post-Apollo

slump [emphasis in the original]."

5. John D. Stevenson, TWX to MSF centers and support elements, "MSF Mission Operations Forecast for June 1969," June 5, 1969; Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington,

1979), p. 285; Mueller, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—July 1, 1969."

6. Stevenson to multiple addressees, TWX, "MSF mission operations forecast for August 1969,"

July 27, 1969; Mueller, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—July 29, 1969."

296
Source Notes

7. 1967 Summer Study of Lunar Science and Exploration, NASA SP-157 (Washington, 1967), pp. 163-73,

229-33, 324, 358-59.

8. Andre J. Meyer, handwritten notebooks III-VI (late 1967 to early 1969), in JSC History Office files.

Besides being involved in other advanced project planning, Meyer headed the Apollo Explorations Project Office at MSC.

9. Mueller, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—January 6, 1969," "Manned Space Flight Weekly

Report—April 21, 1969."

10. Wilmot N. Hess to AA/Director, "Summary OSSA Senior Council Meeting," Apr. 30,1968; John

D. Hodge to PA/Office of Program Manager, MSC, "Lunar Exploration Support," June 4, 1968,

with encl., "ELM [extended lunar module]—Development."

11. MSC, draft statement of work, "LM Modification Study for Extended Lunar Staytime," rev. 28,

Feb. 1969; Mueller, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—March 4, 1969."

12. Lee R. Scherer to MSC, attn. Wilmot N. Hess, "Subsatellite on Apollo Lunar Missions," May

3, 1968; Hess to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program Off., "CSM Lunar Orbiting Science Study,"

May 10, 1968.

13. J. J. Eslinger to Apollo CSM Engineering Supervision, North American Rockwell Corp., Project

Memorandum #3, "Apollo Scientific Experiments Program (ASEP)," Feb. 27, 1969.

14. MSC, "Weekly Activities Report, Science and Applications Directorate, January 20-27, 1969."

15. Robert R. Gilruth to Mueller, "Lunar Exploration CSM Orbital Science, Phase I," Mar. 27, 1969.

16. John A. Naugle to Gilruth, TWX, Apr. 4, 1969.

17. S. C. Phillips to Gilruth, TWX, subj.: CSM Phase I Orbital Science, Apr. 21, 1969.

18. William E. Stoney, Jr., to MSC, attn.: J. P. Loftus, "CSM Orbital Science Missions," May 15, 1969.

19. Phillips to MSC, attn.: R. Gilruth, TWX, subj.: Authority to proceed with SM orbital experiments

for Apollo 16 through 20, June 27, 1969.

20. J. O. Cappelari, Jr., ed., "Where on the Moon? An Apollo Systems Engineering Problem," The

Bell System Technical Journal 51 (1972): 976-84.

21. John R. Sevier interview, Apr. 24, 1986.

22. MA/Apollo Program Du. to multiple addressees, "Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board

Meeting of June 3, 1969."

23. Ibid.

24. rbid.; Benjamin Milwitzky to Du., Apollo Lunar Exploration Office, 'Biasing Apollo Missions

to Land Near Surveyor Spacecraft on the Moon," Jan. 10, 1969.

25. Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting, June 3, 1969; Owen E. Maynard to Mgr.,

Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Apollo Site Selection Board trip report—June 3, 1969," with encl.,

"Lunar Landing Site Recommendations for Apollo 12 as Presented to Apollo Site Selection Board

June 3, 1969," June 10, 1969.

26. Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting, June 3, 1969.

27. George M. Low to NASA Hqs. , attn.: S. C. Phillips, TWX, "Lunar Landing Sites for H-1 Mission," June 12, 1969.

28. Phillips to MSC, attn.: G. Low, TWX, "Lunar Landing Sites for H-1 Mission," June 16, 1969.

29. N. W. Hinners to Captain L. R. Scherer, "Second Mission Landing Sites," June 18, 1969; Hinners to Group for Lunar Exploration Planning and Site Selection Subgroup, "Fourth GLEP Site

Selection Subgroup Meeting—June 17, 1969," June 23, 1969; Hinners to file, "GLEP Site Selection Subgroup, Fourth Meeting, June 17, 1969," Aug. 4, 1969.

30. Hinners, "Fourth GLEP Site Selection Subgroup Meeting—June 17, 1969.

31. Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting, July 10, 1969.

32. NASA Release 69-53, Apr. 10, 1969; "Crew to Make 2d Landing On Moon Set," Washington Post,

Apr. 11, 1969.

33. Ivan D. Ertel and Roland W. Newkirk, with Courtney G. Brooks, The Apollo Spacecraft: A Chronology, vol. IV, NASA SP-4009 (Washington, 1978), pp. 408-9.

34. Sevier interview.

35. "Apollo 12 Crew Training Summaries (Mar. 28-Nov. 14, 1969)," folder in box 081-14, JSC History Office files.

36. MSC News Release, "Apollo 12 Landing Sites," July 25, 1969; John G. Zarcaro to multiple addressees, "Apollo 12 Mission H, planning, "July 28, 1969.

37. Sevier interview.

297
Where No Man Has Gone Before

38. B. E. Oldfield (Hughes Aircraft Co.) to John Hodge, July 10, 1969; Hodge to mgr., Apollo spacecraft program, "Science and Technological Items Available Upon Landing at a Surveyor Site,"

July 31, 1969.

39. Howard W. Tindall, Jr., "A Lengthy Status Report on Lunar Point Landing Including Some

Remarks about CSM DOI [Descent Orbit Insertion]," Aug. 29, 1969. Tindall's clear and breezy

style in writing memos ("Tindallgrams," as they came to be called), usually prefaced with an

attention-grabbing title, gained him a well-deserved local reputation. He had the gift, rare among

engineers and still rarer among managers, of compacting large amounts of information into a

few clear and understandable paragraphs, leavened with considerable humor.

40. Tindall, "How to Land Next to a Surveyor—a Short Novel for Do-It-Yourselfers," Aug. 1, 1969.

41, Surveyor III: A Preliminary Report, NASA SP-146 (Washington, 1967), pp. 12-16; Walter Sullivan,

"Surveyor Tracked Down By a Photographic Sleuth," New York Times, Nov. 19, 1969.

42, John P. Mayer, "The Search for Surveyor III," MSC Internal Note 69-FM-329, Jan. 16, 1970. Its

language shows that the report was written before the launch of Apollo 12, although it is dated

two months later.

43. Tindall, "How to Land next to a Surveyor," Aug. 1, 1969.

44. Tindall, "A Lengthy Status Report," Aug. 29, 1969.

45. Tindall to multiple addressees, "Apollo 12 Descent—Final Comments," Nov. 4, 1969.

46. MSC, "Mission Requirements, SA-507/CSM-1081LM-6, H-1 Type Mission, Lunar Landing," MSC

SPD9-R-051, July 18, 1969, pp. 2-1 to 2-3.

47. MSC, Apollo 12 Mission Reviews, Aug. 15 and Oct. 2, 1969.

48. Andre J. Meyer to PA/Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Surveyor 3 Activities on Apollo 12 Mission," Aug. 28, 1969.

49. Hinners to L. R. Scherer, "Second Mission Landing Sites," June 18, 1969; James H. Sasser to

multiple addressees, "Highlights of GLEP Site Selection Subgroup Meeting in the Mapping

Sciences Laboratory on June 17, 1969," June 22, 1969.

50. Thomas O'Toole, "Veteran Astronauts Lovell, Shepard to Lead '70 Moon Flights," Washington

Post, Aug. 7, 1969. A month earlier a Houston paper had run an unconfirmed story that Shepard,

Roosa, and Mitchell would be the crew for Apollo 13, with Lovell, Mattingly, and Haise manning 14 (Arthur Hill, "Alan Shepard Will Command 3rd Moon Team," Houston Chronicle, July

3, 1969). This may have been the cause for George Mueller's overriding Slayton's choice for these

crews—the only instance in which Headquarters reversed Slayton's selections (see note 13,

Chap. 5). Shepard had been off the active list until May 1969, serving meanwhile as head of the

Astronaut Office ("Mercury's Shepard rejoins flight group," MSC Roundup, May 16, 1969). The

report that he had been named to the first mission scheduled after he returned to active status

would have considerably upset the scientist astronauts. In the course of an interview unrelated

to this book, one of them commented off the record to the present author, "the test pilots ran

the astronaut office and flew their friends." True or not, such a perception would have been

hard to refute after this crew selection.

51. Marti Mueller, "Trouble at NASA: Space Scientists Resign," Science 165 (1969):776-79.

52. Ibid.

53. Wilmot N. Hess, interview with Robert Merrifield, Nov. 7, 1968, transcript in JSC History Office

files; John Noble Wilford, "Moon Scientists Seek Place in the Sun," New York Times, Aug. 10,

1969; Gilruth to Mueller, Sept. 2, 1969.

54. Eugene Shoemaker, "Space—Where Now, and Why?" Engineering and Science 33(1) (1969): 9-12.

55. "Geologist to Quit Apollo Project; Weak Scientific Effort Charged," New York Times (UPI), Oct.

9, 1969.

56. Harold Urey, who during this period continually criticized NASA's choice of lunar landing sites,

wrote off geologists as "mostly ... a second-rate lot.... [Geology] is descriptive, and very often

[geologists] do not learn more than the most elementary things about chemistry and physics."

Urey to Mueller, Oct. 7, 1969. Of Shoemaker, Urey said, "Gene is one of the few capable people

who has had a prominent part in advising NASA, though he has had a very rigid geological pointof-view.... I do not agree with him in some ways, but his general criticism of the lack of good

scientific advice is correct." Urey to Paine, Oct. 9, 1969. Urey and Shoemaker had both worked

on Project Ranger.

Shoemaker's criticism deeply affronted some in NASA, who felt it could only do the program

harm; see Homer E. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Days of Space Science, NASA SP-4211

298
Source Notes

(Washington, 1980), pp. 292-93. To this day Shoemaker insists that his intent was grossly misunderstood: "What I was trying to do," he told the author, "was to get people to focus on something they were losing on this thing, but I never got the point across." He and a few others thought

the point was, "let's make the astronaut himself an instrument of scientific discovery," which

could not be done by slavishly following preplanned operations. "The sample scientists didn't

give a damn, frankly, whether the astronauts discovered something or not; they were going to

discover something with the samples that came back, you see. * * * As far as I'm concerned,

the kinds of things you could discover, by human observer, under the constraints of

Apollo, ... [have not] been touched. If you could get me a spacecraft tomorrow, I've got the

whole program ... in my head, ... and it's still there [on the moon]. All you need to get me

is a hand lens and a shovel.... There's three and a half billion years of history in three meters

[10 feet] of dirt ... on the lunar surface, and ... we haven't even touched it yet." Shoemaker

interview, Mar. 17, 1984. Since Shoemaker did not make this point central to his public remarks,

it is not surprising that his former colleagues in NASA were affronted.

57. "Scientists vs. NASA," unsigned editorial in the New York Times, Aug. 12, 1969.

58. "Before We Start to Mars," unsigned editorial in the Washington Post, Aug. 8, 1969.

59. Fred L. Whipple to George E. Mueller, Aug. 1, 1969.

60. Alex J. Dessler, "Discontent of Space-Science Community," Oct. 30, 1969, paper written for

unknown purpose, copy in box 075-36, JSC History Office files.

61. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere, pp. 213, 221-22. The fact was that no eminent research scientist

was willing to give up research for a career (or even a year's tenure) as a research administrator;

yet Whipple, Dessler, and other scientists continued to urge NASA to find such a person to manage the science programs. See Newell, chap. 12 ("Who Decides?"). A similar problem arose in

the life sciences program; see John A. Pitts, The Human Factor: Biomedicine in the Manned Space

Program to 1980, NASA SP-4213 (Washington, 1985), passim.

62. John Lannan, "Money, Space, Environment Dominate Scientists' Parley," Washington Evening

Star, Dec. 27, 1969; "Scientists Hit Threat to Cut 4 Apollo Flights," Boston Sunday Globe, Dec.

28, 1969; "Technology Misused, Radicals Charge," Washington Post, Dec. 29, 1969. An expression of the plight of science in 1969 and the evil effects of military-sponsored research is found

in "Support of Science on the University's Own Terms," by Gerard Piel (publisher of Scientific

American), Science 166 (1969): 1101.

63. Mueller to Gilruth, Sept. 3, 1969.

64. James R. Arnold to A. J. Calio, "Apollo 12 Recommendations," Sept. 5, 1969; Arnold to Calio,

"Display of Sample Information in the LRL," Sept. 6, 1969.

65. Paul W. Gast to Calio, "Dry N2 Facility as a primary ALSRC Receiving and Handling System,"

Sept. 8, 1969; LSAPT to W. N. Hess, "Minutes of LSAPT dated March 13, 1969," Mar. 21, 1969;

Gast to LRL Management and Mission Review Board, no subject, Aug. 8, 1969.

66. E. C. T. Chao and R. L. Smith to Hess, "Recommendations and Suggestions for Preliminary Examination of Apollo 12 Returned Lunar Samples," Sept. 8, 1969.

67. R. S. Johnston to P. R. Bell and W. W. Kemmerer, Jr., "Apollo 12 Sterile Nitrogen Processing,"

Sept. 22, 1969.

68. Johnston to NASA Hqs., attn.: Maj. Gen. J. W. Humphreys, "Apollo 12 Back Contamination

Program Plan," Oct. 7, 1969; Johnston to Mgr., Command and Service Modules, Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Requirement for Installation of a Postlanding Vent Valve Back Contamination

Filter on CM's 108 and Subsequent," Sept. 18, 1969.

69. Johnston to the record, "Apollo 12 Back Contamination Program," Sept. 17, 1969.

70. Apollo 12 Crew Training Summaries, Aug. 15, Sept. 15, Nov. 14, 1969, folder in box 081-14,JSC

History Office.

71. Harrison H. Schmitt interview, May 30, 1984.

72. Manned Space Flight Weekly Reports, Apr. 1, July 1, Sept. 15, Nov. 10, 1969; Charles D. Benson

and William Barnaby Faherty, Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch Facilities and Operations, NASA

SP-4204 (Washington, 1978), pp. 480-81.

299
Where No Man Has Gone Before

CHAPTER 11

1. Charles D. Benson and William Barnaby Faherty, Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch Facilities

and Operations, NASA SF-204 (Washington, 1978), pp. 481-82.

2. Ibid.

3. MSC, "Apollo 12 Technical Air-to-Ground Voice Transcription," prepared for Data Logistics Office,

Test Div., Apollo Spacecraft Program Office, Nov. 1969 (cited hereinafter as "12 Air-to-Ground"),

p. 17; MSC, "Apollo 12 Mission Report," MSC-01855, March 1970, pp. 14-2 to 14-4.

Postflight analysis of available data supported the first tentative conclusion. Electric-field measurements at the launch site indicated that the clouds were charged, but not enough to produce

lightning. The passage of a conductor (such as the launch vehicle) is known to produce lightning

under such conditions. Witnesses disagreed on the question of lightning strikes, but photographs

showed two bolts from cloud to ground 36.5 seconds after launch, neither of which produced

damage. The second discharge, 52 seconds after launch, was probably between clouds. See

MSC-01540, "Analysis of Apollo 12 Lightning Incident," Feb. 1970. Damage to the launch vehicle was negligible (several telemetry sensors on the service module were knocked out), but launch

rules were subsequently tightened to forbid launch under weather conditions favorable to lightning strikes.

4. 12 Air-to-Ground, p. 24.

5. Apollo 12 Mission Report, p. 5-4.

6. Ibid., p. 5-5.

7. 12 Air-to-Ground, p. 292.

8. Ibid., pp. 281-92.

9. Ibid., pp. 292-322.

10. Apollo 12 Mission Report, pp. 5-7 to 5-8.

11. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 335-45; Apollo 12 Mission Report, p. 5-9.

12. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 346-68; Apollo 12 Mission Report, p. 6-3.

13. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 348-68.

14. Apollo 12 Mission Report, pp. 4-25 to 4-27.

15. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 370-73.

16. Ibid., pp. 406-11.

17. Ibid., pp. 418-26; Apollo 12 Mission Report, p. 14-50.

18. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 429-60.

19. Apollo 12 Mission Report, p. 3-26; 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 438-73.

20. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 473-521. Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin had difficulty finding a way

to sleep comfortably in the cramped LM. Hammocks were added on Apollo 12 and Bean and Conrad

found them quite comfortable in lunar gravity.

21. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 553-89.

22. Ibid., pp. 597-716.

23. The Lunar and Planetary Missions Board recommended in early 1968 that astronauts should talk

as much as possible ("almost incessant talking," as the Board put it) while on the lunar surface,

describing what they were doing, what they could see and how they interpreted it, and what

they intended to do next and why, to provide a complete record of their surface activity. Homer

E. Newell to Robert R. Gilruth, Feb. 5, 1968. MSC agreed in principle only, suggesting that the

astronauts observe the tried and proven rules of aircraft communications, transmitting only necessary information while at the same time making an effort to provide "a running commentary

of significant events and actions so preplanned that normal communications discipline is not violated but yet is complete enough to assure a maximum of scientific return from the exercise."

That kind of commentary would be "comparable to the usual field notes of the practicing geologist on a field trip." Gilruth to Newell, Feb. 20, 1968; W. N. Hess to Special Asst. to the Dir.,

"Astronaut Activity on Lunar Surface," Feb. 19, 1968.

300
Source Notes

24. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 602, 603, 614-52.

After Buzz Aldrin drew criticism from scientists for his misidentification of biotite (see footnote, chap. 9, p. 282), Bean and Conrad may have been more sensitive to what they were saying.

Geologist-astronaut Jack Schmitt noted that in postmission discussions Conrad admitted he was

fairly sure the sample was olivine, but "he wasn't about to say so," for fear of making a mistake.

H. H. Schmitt interview, May 30, 1984.

25. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 661, 666, 670,

26. Ibid., pp. 671-95.

27. Ibid., p. 731.

28. Apollo 12 Mission Report, pp. 10-7, 8-20.

29. Ibid., p. 9-10; 12 Air-to-Ground, p. 740.

30. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 757-770; MSC, "Apollo 12 Technical Crew Debriefing," Dec. 1, 1969,

pp. 12-21 to 12-23; Apollo 12 Mission Report, pp. 6-5 to 6-6.

31. Apollo 12 Mission Report, pp. 3-10 to 3-11, 9-39 to 9-40; Victor Cohn, "Moon Quake Caused

by Lem Called 'Unlike Any' on Earth," Washington Post, Nov. 21,1969; Gary V. Latham, Maurice

Ewing, Frank Press, George Sutton, James Dorman, Hosio Nakamura, Nafi Toksoz, Ralph Wiggins, and Robert Kovach, "Passive Seismic Experiment," in Apollo 12 Preliminary Science Report,

NASA SP-235 (Washington, 1970) , pp. 39-53.

32. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 863-1066, 944-57; Apollo 12 Mission Report, p. 9-28.

33. 12 Air-to-Ground, pp. 924-25.

34. Alan L. Bean interview, Apr. 10, 1984.

35. 12 Air-to-Ground, p. 1018.

36. Apollo 12 Technical Crew Debriefing, pp.16-1, 16-4.

37. Apollo 12 Mission Report, pp. 11-6 to 11-7.

38. Cohn, "Moon Quake Caused by Lem."

39. Leo T. Zbanek, "Weekly Activity Report, Engineering Division, November 13, 1969"; Richard

A. Wright to TA/Special Asst., "Weekly Activity Report," Nov. 14, 1969.

40. Wright to TA/Dir., Science and Applications, "Weekly Activities Report," Nov. 27, 1969.

41. "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Daily Report, 1400 hours 11-28-69 to 1400 hours 11-29-69," Nov.

29, 1969; J. L. Warner, "Apollo 12 Sample Inventory," Dec. 5, 1969.

42. Bryan Erb to DC/Chief, Preventive Medicine Div., "Selection of lunar samples for biological testing," Nov. 29, 1969.

43. "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Daily Report, 1400 hours 12-1-60 to 1400 hours 12-2-69," Dec. 2,

1969; Charles A. Berry, "Findings and Determinations of Extraterrestrial Exposure and Quarantine of Particular Person(s), Property, Animal(s), or Other Form(s) of Life or Matter," Dec. 1, 1969.

44. MSC, "Containment Fault Press Conference," Dec. 1, 1969, transcript; "Apollo 12 Ward Status

Report," transcript of press conf., Dec. 2, 1969.

45. MSC, "LRL Operational Summary, Apollo 12, November 24 to December 6, 1969," Dec. 6, 1969.

46. Ross Taylor, "Comparison Between Apollo 11 Samples from Mare Tranquillitatis and Apollo 12

Samples from Oceanus Procellarum," Dec. 8, 1969; MSC, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Daily

Report, 1400 hours 12-10-69 to 1400 hours 12-11-69," Dec. 11, 1969.

47. MSC, "LRL Operational Summary, Apollo 12, Dec. 6 to Dec. 13, 1969," Dec. 13, 1969.

48. MSC, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Daily [sic] Report, 1400 hours 12-12-69 to 1400 hours, 12-18-69,"

Dec. 18,1969; John Noble Wilford, "Apollo 12 Samples Appear to Be Younger," New York Times,

Dec. 13, 1969.

49. MSC, "Lunar Receiving Laboratory Reports," transcripts of press briefings, Nov. 25-Dec. 10,

1969, box 079-16, JSC History Office Apollo files.

50. Berry to Maj. Gen. J. W. Humphreys, Jr., TWX, Dec 8, 1969; Berry to Chairman, Interagency

Committee on Back Contamination, "Recommendation for Release of Apollo XII Crew and Crew

Reception Area from Personnel Quarantine," Dec. 9, 1969; Humphreys, TWX to MSC, Dec. 9,

1969; W. Carter Alexander, "Quarantine Release Report No. 3," n.d. [Dec. 8, 19691; Humphreys

to MSC, attn.: Director and Dir. of Medical Research and Operations, "Release of Personnel from

CRA/LRL," Dec. 10, 1969.

301
Where No Man Has Gone Before

51. Victor Cohn, "Same Chemical Origin Seen for Earth, Moon," Washington Post, Jan. 7,1970; "Summary of Apollo 11 Lunar Science Conference" (prepared by the Lunar Sample Preliminary Examination Team), Science 167 (1970): 449-51. The entire January 30 issue of Science was given over

to the papers resulting from studies on the Apollo 11 samples (see Chap. 9), requiring some extraordinary effort in reviewing and editing. Manuscripts were received the first week in January, refereed

and revised during the next two weeks, and the issue was printed three weeks later. See Philip

H. Abelson, "The Moon Issue," ibid. , p. 447, and "Acknowledgements," ibid., p 781. Revised

and expanded versions of the papers presented at the conference were published in Proceedings

of the Apollo 11 Lunar Science Conference (3 vols.), A. A. Levinson, ed. (New York and London:

Pergamon Press, 1970).

52. "'Summary of Apollo 11 Lunar Science Conference"; Wilford, "Lunar Churning Surmised From

Samples of Rock," New York Times, Jan. 7, 1970.

53."Summary of Apollo 11 Lunar Science Conference."

54. James C. Tanner, "Moon Rocks' Age Put at 4.6 Billion Years, Much Older Than Any Found on

the Earth," Wall Street Journal, Jan. 6, 1970.

55. Wilford, "Apollo Conference Ends With a Wealth of Data but an Unclear Picture of Lunar Origin," New York Times, Jan. 9, 1970; Tanner, "Moon Scientists End Their Session Today, But Many

Questions Remain Unanswered," Wall Street Journal, Jan. 8, 1970.

56. "Summary of Apollo 11 Lunar Science Conference."

57. George E. Mueller to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report," Dec. 15, 1969.

58. James A. McDivitt to multiple addressees, "Apollo Experiments Review Group," Jan. 6, 1970.

59. Homer E. Newell, "Conference Report, February 5, 1970, Lunar Science Institute, Houston, Texas,

Subject: Critique of Apollo Lunar Missions and the Maximization of Scientific Returns for the

Remaining Apollo Flights," Feb. 6, 1970.

60. Ibid.

61. Newell to Gilruth, Feb. 6, 1970.

62. Calio to PA/Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Lunar Surface Science Requirements," Mar. 27,

1970; Calio to multiple addressees, "Science Mission Manager and Mission Scientist Assignments

for Apollo 13 and 14," Apr. 6, 1970; Calio to TJ/James H. Sasser [and others], "Science Working

Panel," June 4, 1970.

63. Eugene F. Kranz to TM/Acting Mgr., Lunar Missions Office, "Science Briefings for Flight Crews,"

Apr. 23, 1970.

64. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA SP-4211 (Washington, 1980),

p. 293.

65. National Archives and Records Service, Weekly Compilation of Presidential Documents, Nov. 17, 1969,

p. 1597; NASA Releases 69-151, Nov. 10, 1969, and 70-4, Jan. 8, 1970; NASA Announcement,

Aug. 31, 1969; MSC Releases 69-66, Sept. 25, 1969, and 69-70, Nov. 26, 1969; Thomas O'Toole,

"Petrone, Launch Director at Cape, Promoted to Head Apollo Project," Washington Post, Aug.

23, 1969; "Mueller Leaves NASA Dec. 10; Paine Lauds His Apollo Role," ibid., Nov. 11, 1969.

66. NASA Release, Jan. 15, 1969.

67. Presidential Documents, Mar. 21, 1969; NASA Budget Briefing, Apr. 15, 1969, transcript.

68. Presidential Documents, Dec. 1, 1969.

69. Space Task Group, The Post-Apollo Space Program: Directions for the Future, report to the President,

Sept. 15, 1969.

70. "Nixon Backs Mars Flight but Rejects All-Out Drive," New York Times, Sept. 16, 1969.

71. "Before We Start to Mars," unsigned editorial in the Washington Post, Aug. 8, 1969.

72. Victor K. McElheny, "NASA Adviser: Sending Men to Mars 'Utmost Folly'," Boston Globe, Dec.

19, 1969; Cohn, "Cut in Space Program Urged," Washington Post, Dec. 29, 1969.

73. U.S., Congress, House, Toward the Endless Frontier: History of the Committee on Science and Technology, 1959-79 [by Ken Hechler] (Washington: U.S. Govt. Printing Office, 1980), p. 269.

74. "Apollo Missions Extended to '74," New York Times, Jan. 5, 1970; "Experts Hail Schedule for

Moon Trips," Washington Post, Jan. 6, 1970. Rumors that four Apollo missions might be canceled

circulated in late 1969; see O'Toole, "Nixon to Give Space Goals; Modest Program Expected,"

Washington Post, Dec. 22, 1969; "Scientists hit threat to cut 4 Apollo flights," Boston Sunday Globe,

Dec. 28, 1969. For the effects of budget cuts on Skylab, see W. David Compton and Charles D.

Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA SP-4208 (Washington, 1983),

Chap. 4.

302
Source Notes

75. Richard D. Lyons, "50,000 NASA Jobs to Be Eliminated," New York Times, Jan. 14, 1970; O'Toole,

"Cutbacks Planned by NASA," Washington Post, Jan. 14, 1970.

76. Astronauts and Aeronautics, 1970: Chronology on Science, Technology, and Policy, NASA SP-4015

(Washington, 1972) p. 203.

77. Toward the Endless Frontier, pp. 313-14.

78. Mueller to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report," Dec. 15, 1969; Dale D. Myers

to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report," Jan. 19, 1970.

79. NASA Release 70-5, Jan. 8, 1970.

80. Calio to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Recommendations for Science Sites for Apollo Missions 13-20," Oct. 20, 1969.

81. MSC, "Apollo 13 Mission Report," MSC-02680, Sept. 1970, p. 12-2 and App. A, p. A-2.

82. The best account of Apollo 13 is that of Henry S. F. Cooper, 13: The Flight That Failed (New York:

Dial Press, 1973), a taut narrative that captures the flavor of the entire mission. For a first-person

account by a participant, see mission commander James A. Lovell's chapter, "Houston, We've

Had A Problem," in Apollo Expeditions to the Moon, Edgar M. Cortright, ed., NASA SP-350

(Washington, 1975). A brief summary of the mission and the investigation is given in Benson

and Faherty, Moonport, pp. 489-94. Headquarters' Public Affairs Office prepared a 25-page booklet on the flight, "Houston, we've got a problem," NASA EP-76 (Washington, 1970). A concise

summary of the constraints faced by flight controllers and the rationale for the real-time decisions made during Apollo 13 was presented by Glynn S. Lunney, one of 13's flight directors,

as AIAA Paper No. 70-1260, "Discussion of Several Problem Areas During the Apollo 13 Operation," at the AIAA 7th Annual Meeting and Technical Display, Houston, Oct. 19-22, 1970. The

Report of the Apollo 13 Review Board, a summary volume and eight technical appendices, was released

two months after the accident. It contains full technical details of the causes of the accident as

deduced from inflight telemetry, the history of the faulty tank, and tests performed to support

the investigation. Board chairman Edgar M. Cortright presented the board's findings to the House

space committee on June 16, 1970; see House, The Apollo 13 Accident, hearings before the Committee on Science and Astronautics, 9112, June 16, 1970.

83. Apollo 13 Mission Report, pp. 11-9 to 11-10.

CHAPTER 12

1. U.S. Congress, House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 1971 NASA Authorization, Hearings on H.R. 15695, 9112, Feb. 1970, vol. 1, pp. 2-38; W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson,

Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA SP-4208 (Washington, 1983), pp. 115-16.

2. Idem, 1971 NASA Authorization, vol. 1, p. 7. The Electronics Research Center (ERC) in Cambridge,

Mass., proposed in 1963, had provoked serious opposition from the start. Nonetheless, ERC was

approved and began operation in 1965 while permanent buildings were being constructed. By

late 1969, when ERC was abolished, some $80 million had been invested in buildings and equipment. The facility was transferred to the Department of Transportation in March 1970. See House

Committee on Science and Technology, Toward the Endless Frontier: History of the Committee on

Science and Technology, 1959-79 (Washington: U.S. Govt. Printing Office, 1980), pp. 219-31.

3. Thomas O'Toole, "3 Apollo Cancellations Weighed for Big Skylab," Washington Post, July 9, 1970.

4. National Archives and Records Service, Weekly Compilation of Presidential Documents, Aug. 17, 1970,

pp. 1056-57; cited in NASA, Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1970, p. 263.

5. Thomas O'Toole, "NASA Head Quits, Plans to Rejoin GE," Washington Post, July 29, 1970; Richard

D. Lyons, "Paine Quits Post in Space Agency," New York Times, July 29, 1970.

6. NASA, "FY 1971 Interim Operating Plan News Conference," Sept. 2, 1970, transcript; Thomas

O'Toole, "2 Moon Landings Canceled by NASA," Washington Post, Sept. 3, 1970.

7. "FY 1971 Interim Operating Plan News Conference." One Saturn V was earmarked for the launch

of Skylab; later NASA built a backup Skylab orbital workshop and committed another Saturn

V to launch it. Never used, the workshop is now in the National Air and Space Museum and

its launch vehicle was put on exhibit at Kennedy Space Center. The third Saturn V is on display

303
Where No Man Has Gone Before

at the Johnson Space Center beside a Mercury-Redstone—relics of the heroic age of manned space

flight; John E. Naugle to Dir., JSC, "Disposition of Residual Apollo Hardware," June 17, 1977.

8. "Retreat From the Moon," New York Times, Sept. 4, 1970.

9. Richard D. Lyons, "Scientists Decry Moon Flight Cut," New York Times, Sept. 4, 1970, and "New

Cuts For Apollo: 'No Gas for The Rolls Royce?'," ibid., Sept. 6, 1970.

10. Harold C. Urey, Washington Post, Sept. 17, 1970.

11. Gerald J. Wasserburg, Los Angeles Times, Sept. 15, 1970. "Return to the dark ages of planetary

science" seems to overstate the consequences of canceling two lunar exploration missions, but

as a veteran observer of science politics noted, scientists were insecure about financial support

and inclined to rhetorical extravagance when lamenting cutbacks in funding: "they recognize

no territory between paradise and hell." Daniel S. Greenberg, "Mr. President Meets Mr. Wizard," Washington Post, Dec. 6, 1976.

12. Edward Clinton Ezell and Linda Neuman Ezell, On Mars: Exploration of the Red Planet 1958-1978,

NASA SP-4212, pp. 185-92. See also House, Toward The Endless Frontier, pp. 272-76.

13. Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, pp. 182-85.

14. Letter to George P. Miller, signed by 39 lunar scientists, Sept. 10, 1970, copy included in House

Committee on Science and Astronautics press release, Sept. 21, 1970.

15. Miller to multiple addressees, Sept. 21, 1970, House Committee on Science and Astronautics press

release, Sept. 21, 1970.

16. Rocco A. Petrone to multiple addressees, "Apollo Site Selection Board Minutes of Meeting,"

Mar. 16, 1970; James A. McDivitt to multiple addressees, "Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting

March 6, 1970"; Myers to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—March 9, 1970,"

Mar. 9, 1970.

17. Calio to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Site Selections for Apollo Missions 14 and 15," May

8, 1970.

18. U.S. Congress, Senate, Apollo 13 Mission Review, Hearings before the Committee on Aeronautical

and Space Sciences, 91/2, June 30, 1970, p. 52; "Apollo 13 Rescheduled," NASA Release 70-5,

Jan. 8, 1970; John Noble Wilford, "Apollo 14 to Use Cart on the Moon," New York Times, Jan.

20, 1970; Richard D. Lyons, "NASA and 2 Companies Blamed for Apollo Blast," New York Times,

June 16, 1970.

19. Bendix Corp., Mission Assignments, "Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package (ALSEP),"

no date [c. Dec. 19701, box 079-51, JSC History Office files.

20. "New Labor-Saving device: the MSC 'Rickshaw,"' MSC Roundup, Jan. 30, 1970.

21. MSC-03465-Rev. A, "Flight Crew Health Stabilization Program," Oct. 26,1970; "MSC Flight Readiness Review, Apollo 14," part IV, Dec. 11, 1970, pp. 13-14; "Crew Health Stabilization Plan

Announced for Apollo 14," MSC Roundup, Oct. 9, 1970.

22. "MSC Flight Readiness Review, Apollo 14," part IV, pp. 27,31-34; MSC-04112, "Apollo 14 Mission Report," May 1971, pp. 10-14 to 10-15.

23. Benson and Faherty, Moonport, pp. 494-96.

24. Myers to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—January 11, 1971," Jan. 11, 1971.

25. Benson and Faherty, Moonport, p. 499.

26. MSC, "Apollo 14 Mission Report," MSC-04112, May 1971, pp. 1-1, 9-3, 14-1 to 14-5.

27. Ibid., p. 3-19.

28. Ibid., p. 6-2.

29. Ibid., pp. 6-2, 6-7.

30. MSC, "Apollo 14 Technical Air-to-Ground Voice Transcription" (hereinafter cited as "14 Air-toGround"), pp. 400-401.

31. 14 Air-to-Ground, p. 449.

32. Ibid., pp. 449-531, 535-54, 575-85.

33. Ibid., pp. 637-68; MSC, "Apollo 14 Technical Crew Debriefing," Feb. 17, 1971, pp. 10-35 to 10-36,

10-50 to 10-57.

34. "Apollo 14 Mission Report," p. 1-2.

35. 14 Air-to-Ground, p. 723; "Moon Trip Prescribed For Golf Ills," Washington Post, Feb. 18, 1971.

Shepard's golf club was fashioned at his request by technicians in MSC's Technical Services Division. According to Jack Kinzler, chief of Technical Services, it was "bootlegged" through the

shops because no one wanted to draw high-level managerial attention to it.

36. "Apollo 14 Mission Report," p. 4-4, 4-5.

304
Source Notes

37. 14 Air-to-Ground, pp. 757-67.

38. "Apollo 14 Mission Report," pp. 6-4, 6-10.

39. Ibid., pp. 5-1 to 5-6.

40. Ibid., pp. 11-3 to 11-7, 10-15. It later came out that Edgar Mitchell had participated in an experiment of his own, not in the official flight plan. In cooperation with a Midwestern drafting engineer

who claimed psychic powers, he attempted some telepathic communication with earth at various times during the flight. See "Apollo ESP test told," Washington Daily News, Feb. 22, 1971.

41. MSC to Grumman Aircraft Engineering Co. (GAEC), contract change authorization (CCA) no.

2002, Amendment no. 1, "LM Modifications Study for Extended Lunar Staytime," Mar. 13, 1969;

Samuel C. Phillips, TWX to MSC, May 9,1969; MSC to GAEC, CCA no. 2333, "LM-10 and Subsequent Modification Program," June 9, 1969.

42. GAEC LMA790-2, "Lunar Module Modification Program [LMMPI, Vehicle Familiarization Manual," Aug. 28, 1969.

43. Joseph N. Kotanchik to Asst. Dir. for Chemical and Mechanical Systems, MSC, "Report on Attendance at LMMP CDR at GAC, September 12, 1969," Sept. 15, 1969; GAEC, "LMMP Critical Design

Review Board Meeting Minutes, September 12, 1969," Sept. 17, 1969.

44. Lee R. Scherer to multiple addressees, TWX, May 27, 1969.

45. Saverio F. Morea, MSFC, to James A. McDivitt, "LRV Weight Growth," Nov. 6, 1969; McDivitt

to Roy E. Godfrey, MSFC, Dec. 12, 1969.

46. McDivitt to multiple addressees, "Lunar Roving Vehicle," Nov. 1, 1969; George E. Mueller to

Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report—November 3, 1969," Nov. 3, 1969.

47. Roger E. Bilstein, Stages to Saturn: A Technological History of the Apollo/Saturn Launch Vehicles, NASA

SP-4206 (Washington, 1980), pp. 376-77.

48. Donald C. Wade to multiple addressees, "August 12 Saturn V payload improvement meeting,"

Aug. 15, 1969; John D. Hodge to Phillips, "Increased Saturn V Payload Capacity," Aug. 29, 1969.

49. J. O. Cappellari, Jr., ed., "Where on the Moon? An Apollo Systems Engineering Problem," The

Bell System Technical Journal 51(5) (May-June 1972): 1028-34; Rocco A. Petrone to multiple addressees, "Saturn V Performance Capability for Apollo I6-20," Nov. 24, 1969.

50. Cappellari, "Where on the Moon?", p. 1030.

51. Richard G. Smith, MSFC, to Petrone, "Use of 510 Launch Vehicle for 107,000 Pounds Payload

Mission," July 22, 1970.

52. Scherer, "Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting, Oct. 30, 1969"; Farouk El-Baz

and D. B. James, "Minutes of the August 12-14 Meeting of an Ad Hoc Working Group on the

Science Objectives of Apollo Missions 12-20," Bellcomm Memo for File, Aug. 18, 1969.

53. Gene Simmons to Dr. Charles H. Townes and Dr. John Findlay, Oct. 21, 1969; Urey to Townes

and Findlay, Oct. 27, 1969. Urey felt unable to attend more meetings because "I shall miss three

classes this quarter in my thermodynamics course—one to attend the Flagstaff [site evaluation]

meeting and two to collect medal awards.... I cannot serve on more committees and do my

university work."

54. Simmons to Townes and Findlay, Oct. 21, 1969.

55. Scherer, "Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting, Oct. 30, 1969."

56. Ibid.

57. "Group for Lunar Exploration Planning, Minutes of Meeting, February 6-7, 1970"; A. J. Calio

to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Site Selections for the Remaining Apollo missions," Mar.

24, 1970.

58. Calio to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Site Selections for the Remaining Apollo missions,"

Mar. 24, 1970.

59. Idem, "Site Selections for Apollo missions 14 and 15," May 6, 1970.

60. Ronald L. Berry to Chief, Lunar Mission Analysis Branch, "Results of the Sub-GLEP Apollo Site

Selection Meeting on June 5, 1970," June 17, 1970; Hinners to multiple addressees, "Subgroup

Meeting of June 5, 1970," June 10, 1970.

61. Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting, Sept. 24, 1970; Calio to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, "Landing Site Recommendation for Apollo 15 Mission," Aug. 17, 1970.

62. Berry to multiple addressees, "Results of the Apollo Lunar Landing Site Selection Board Meeting of September 24, 1970," Sept. 30, 1970; Minutes of the Apollo Site Selection Board Meeting,

Sept. 24, 1970.

305
Where No Man Has Gone Before

63. NASA Release 69-115, Aug. 7, 1969; Thomas O'Toole, "Veteran Astronauts Lovell, Shepard to

Lead '70 Moon Flights," Washington Post, Aug. 7, 1969; "Before We Start to Mars, ibid., Aug.

8, 1969.

64. Paul Recer (Associated Press), "They Feud Over Moon Flights," The Miami Herald, Aug. 18, 1969.

65. B. J. Richey, "Lunar Landing Teams Are Unlikely To Include Scientists Until 1971," St. Louis GlobeDemocrat, Aug. 18, 1969.

66. Richard Witkin, "Scientist Expected to Be Picked for Moon Trip," New York Times, Dec. 12, 1969.

67. NASA Release 70-46, "Apollo 15 Crew Selected," Mar. 26, 1970.

68. Harrison H. Schmitt interview, May 30, 1984.

69. Homer E. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA SP-4211 (Washington,

1980), p. 210; handwritten notes on meetings with scientist-astronauts, Houston, Jan. 12-13, 1971,

in Newell's notebook, box 28 of the Newell files stored in the Federal Records Center, Suitland,

Md., accession no. 255-79-0649; Newell to Dr. Fletcher, July 21, 1971.

70. Ibid.

71. Dale D. Myers to Charles H. Townes, Mar. 1, 1971.

72. Compton and Benson, Living and Working in Space, p. 220.

73. NASA Release 71-31, "Apollo 16 Crew Selected," Mar. 3, 1971.

74. A. P. Vinogradov, "Preliminary Data on Lunar Ground Brought to Earth by Automatic Probe

Luna-16,"' in Proceedings of the Second Lunar Science Conference, A. A. Levinson, ed. (Cambridge:

MIT Press, 1971), pp. 1-16.

75. Norman J. Hubbard and Paul W. Gast, "Chemical composition and origin of nonmare lunar

basalts," ibid., pp. 999-1020; John Noble Wilford, "Exotic Fragments Found In Apollo Lunar

Samples," New York Times, Jan. 11, 1971.

76. Wilford, "Exotic Fragments"; Ursula B. Marvin, J. A. Wood, G. J. Taylor, J. B. Reid, Jr., B. N.

Powell, J. S. Dickey, Jr., and J. F. Bower, "Relative Proportions and Probable Sources of Rock

Fragments in the Apollo 12 Samples," Proceedings of the Second Lunar Science Conference, pp. 679-99.

77. Arthur Hill, "Primitive Lunar Crust Is Hinted by Fragments," Houston Chronicle, Jan. 11, 1971.

78. Cappellari, "Where on the Moon?", pp. 990-94.

79. Earl H. Arnold, "Minutes, Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, January 15, 1970."

80. Space Science Board, National Academy of Sciences, "Report of Meeting on Review of Lunar

Quarantine Program, February 17, 1970."

81. J. W. Humphreys, Jr., to Dir., Apollo Program, "Quarantine for Apollo 14 and Subs," July 16, 1970.

82. Humphreys, TWX to multiple addressees, "Discontinuation of Lunar Quarantine," Apr. 28, 1971;

Myers to MSC Director, "Decision to Terminate Quarantine," May 10, 1971 with encl., "Decision to Terminate Quarantine Under NMI 1052.90 (Attachment A, Change 1, 2)," signed by George

M. Low, Apr. 26, 1971.

CHAPTER 13

1. Rocco A. Petrone to Administrator, "Apollo 15 Mission (AS-510)," Prelaunch Mission Operation Report M-933-71-15, July 17, 1971.

2. Ibid.

3. MSC, "Apollo 15, To the Mountains on the Moon," NASA Fact Sheet MSC-04065, n. d. [c.

June 1971].

4. OMSF, "Manned Space Flight Management Council, October 15, 1969, Status Highlights."

5. MSC, "Apollo 15 Press Kit," July 15,1971; S. F. Morea, "Lunar Rover Briefing, Kennedy Space

Center, July 23, 1971," transcript.

6. Morea, "Lunar Rover Briefing"; Dale D. Myers to Administrator, "Manned Space Flight Weekly

Report," Feb. 2, 1970; ibid., Sept. 8, 1970.

7. Myers to Adm., "Manned Space Flight Weekly Report, Nov. 23, 1970.

8. Charles D. Benson and William Barnaby Faherty, Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch Facilities

and Operations, NASA SP-4204 (Washington, 1978), pp. 508-14.

9. Ibid., pp. 507-508.

306
Source Notes

10. Ibid., pp. 517-18.

11. MSC Public Affairs Office, "Apollo 15 Postlaunch Briefing," July 26, 1971.

12. MSC-05161, "Apollo 15 Mission Report," Dec. 1971, pp. 1-1, 3-2.

13. Ibid., pp. 3-1 to 3-7, 9-1 to 9-6.

14. Ibid., pp. 9-7 to 9-8.

15. MSC-04558, "Apollo 15 Technical Air-to-Ground Voice Transcription" (hereinafter cited as "15

Air-to-Ground"), pp. 337-66; Apollo 15 Mission Report, p. 9-9.

16. Apollo 15 Mission Report, pp. 9-14 to 9-15; 15 Air-to-Ground, p. 453.

17. 15 Air-to-Ground, 485-89.

18. Ibid., pp. 490-506.

19. Ibid., pp. 536-39.

20. Ibid., p. 546.

21. Ibid., p. 544.

22. Ibid., pp. 547-48, 550, 554, 556, 560-61.

23. Ibid., pp. 568-610; Apollo 15 Mission Report, p. 4-1; JSC-09423, "Apollo Program Summary

Report," Apr. 1975, p. A-7.

24. 15 Air-to-Ground, pp. 635-77.

25. MSC, Change of Shift Briefing, July 31, 1971, 6:20 p.m. CDT, transcript.

26. 15 Air-to-Ground, pp. 675-76.

27. Ibid., p. 676.

28. David R. Scott, "Finding the Golden Easter Egg," New York Times, Aug. 13, 1971.

29. 15 Air-to-Ground, p. 732; Apollo 15 Mission Report, p. 14-86.

30. 15 Air-to-Ground, pp. 734-824.

31. Ibid., p. 827.

32. William K. Stevens, "Astronauts Fly to Texas Bearing Moon Rock Cargo," New York Times, Aug.

9, 1971.

33. Apollo 15 Mission Report, pp. 4-1 to 4-3, 14-62 to 14-68; 15 Air-to-Ground, pp. 832-952.

34. MSC, "Change of Shift Briefing, August 1, 1971, 2:40 p.m. (CDT)," transcript.

35. Ibid.

36. 15 Air-to-Ground, p. 994.

37. Ibid., pp. 366-70, 460-67, 512-14, and elsewhere; Apollo 15 Mission Report, p. 5-14; Abigail

Brett, "Worden Discovers 'Hot Spot' Of Radioactive Deposits," Washington Post, Aug. 3, 1971.

38. Apollo 15 Mission Report, p. 4-3.

39. 15 Air-to-Ground, p. 1140. Another batch of stamps caused acute embarrassment to NASA and

resulted in disciplinary action for the three Apollo 15 astronauts. After a stamp dealer in West

Germany advertised philatelic covers that had been to the moon on Apollo 15, it came to light

that the crew had taken 400 covers with them. Before the flight the covers, which bore 10-cent

Apollo 11 commemorative stamps, were canceled at KSC; on return, the astronauts affixed two

8-cent "decade of achievement" commemoratives (the same as the one canceled on the moon

for the U.S. Postal Service) and had them canceled aboard ship. These covers were later

autographed by the three astronauts and a notarized statement intended to authenticate them

was typed on each. One hundred of these covers were given to the German dealer, who reportedly sold them for 4,850 deutschmarks (about $1,500) each. Belmont Faries, "A Lunar Bonanza,"

Washington Star, June 18, 1972.

Investigation revealed that the astronauts had been authorized to carry a smaller number of

souvenir covers in their personal preference kits-normal practice for manned space flights, it

being understood that such souvenirs would not be exploited for personal profit. When the reports

became the subject of inquiries to Deke Slayton and John P. Donnelly, assistant administrator

for public affairs at Headquarters, NASA impounded the remaining covers and began an official investigation. William Hines, "NASA Probing Moon Stamp Caper," Washington Star, July

2, 1972.

It developed that the astronauts had given the flown covers to an intermediary in Florida,

who passed them on to the German dealer. It was understood that the proceeds from sale of

the covers would be put into a trust fund for the astronauts' children; but they later had second

thoughts and refused the offer. Nonetheless, after the basic facts were made known, NASA

officially reprimanded Scott, Worden, and Irwin with the statement that they had used "poor

307
Where No Man Has Gone Before

judgment" and "their actions will be given due consideration in their selection for future assignments." Harold M. Schmeck, Jr., "Apollo 15 Crew Is Reprimanded," New York Times, July 12,

1972; "Apollo 15 'Postmen' Officially Reprimanded," Houston Post, July 12, 1972; "Postmark:

The Moon," Newsweek, July 24, 1972; Thomas O'Toole, "Ex-Astronauts Disregarded Warning

Against 'Souvenirs'," Washington Post, Aug. 1, 1972. The Senate space committee looked into

the matter, concluded that no laws had been violated, and took no action. They discovered that

unauthorized items had been taken on other lunar landing missions as well. Richard D. Lyons,

"Astronauts and Space Officials Heard At Inquiry on Exploitation of Souvenirs," New York Times,

Aug. 4, 1972. The results of NASA's own investigation were publicized in an 18-page press release,

NASA Release 72-189, "Articles Carried on Manned Space Flights," Sept. 15, 1972, which stated

that the astronauts' "official Efficiency Reports as military officers reflect a formal finding of

lack of judgment," and also noted changes in NASA Regulations that were promulgated to prevent recurrence of such embarrassing incidents.

The incident caused an uproar among American philatelists. The journal of the American Philatelic Society carried two reports of an investigation intended to make known exactly what happened, so that collectors would be aware of the possibilities of fraud. Lester E. Winick, "Report

on Apollo 15 Covers—Smuggled and Authorized," The American Philatelist 86(10) (1972):887-95,

and "'Lookalike' Apollo 15 Covers Prompt Philatelists' Caution," ibid., 86(11) (Nov. 1972):992-98.

40. 15 Air-to-Ground, p. 1142. Scott correctly credited Galileo Galilei (1564-1642), Italian astronomer

and physicist, with the deduction that bodies of different weight should fall with the same velocity

in the absence of air resistance. He would have been more accurate to assign the credit for getting him to the moon to Sir Isaac Newton (1642-1727), who first formulated the laws that govern the motion of a body moving in a gravitational field and provided a mathematical basis for

Galileo's hypothesis. Only with the development of high-speed electronic computers, however,

was it possible to solve the equations for the motion of a spacecraft with sufficient accuracy to

allow Scott to land at a specific spot on the plain at Hadley. The only notice taken of Scott's

demonstration, other than press reports, was in the preliminary science report. Joe Allen, concluding a paper summarizing the scientific results, noted that the result was "predicted by wellestablished theory, but [was] nonetheless reassuring considering ... that the homeward journey was based critically on the validity of the particular theory being tested." Apollo 15 Preliminary Science Report, NASA SP-289 (Washington, 1972), p. 2-11.

41. Fred Farrar, "Astronauts Leave Moon, Link Up with Mother Ship," Chicago Tribune, Aug. 3,

1971; Apollo 15 Mission Report, pp. 14-71 to 14-72.

42. Tom Wicker, "Man and the Moon," New York Times, Aug. 3, 1971.

43. Apollo 15 Mission Report, p. 1-3.

44. Ibid., p. 1-4; John Noble Wilford, "Worden Ventures Outside the Cabin of Apollo Craft," New

York Times, Aug. 6, 1971.

45. O'Toole, "Apollo 15 Lands Hard but Safely," Washington Post, Aug. 8, 1971; Apollo 15 Mission

Report, pp. 1-4, 14-17 to 14-21.

46. Apollo 15 Preliminary Examination Team, "The Apollo 15 Lunar Samples: A Preliminary Description," Science 175 (1972):363-75.

47. Gerald Wasserburg to Robert R. Gilruth, Aug. 9, 1971.

48. Larry A. Haskin to Gilruth, Aug. 5, 1971.

49. "Apollo 15 Science Briefing, Manned Spacecraft Center, August 11, 1971, 3:30 PM (CDT)."

50. "The Apollo 15 Lunar Samples"; Petrone to multiple addressees, "Report of Preliminary Scientific

Results of Apollo 15," Sept. 28, 1971, with encl., "Preliminary Scientific Results of Apollo 15

(As of September 24, 1971)."

51. "The Apollo 15 Lunar Samples."

52. I. Adler, J. Trombka, J. Gerard, R. Schmadebeck, P. Lowman, H. Blodgett, L. Yin, E. Eller,

R. Lamothe, P. Gorenstein, and P. Bjorkholm, "X-Ray Fluorescence Experiment, Preliminary

Report," Goddard Space Flight Center X-641-71-421, October 1971.

53. Gilruth to Myers, TWX, Aug. 31, 1971.

54. "Distribution of Apollo 15 Lunar Samples," NASA Release 71-223, Nov. 9, 1971.

55. NASA Release 71-149, "Apollo 17 Crew Named," Aug. 13, 1971.

56. Donald K. Slayton interview, Oct. 15, 1984.

57. Jim Maloney, "A new goal for dropped astronaut," Houston Post, Sept. 8, 1971.

308
Source Notes

58. MSC, "Apollo 17 Crew Press Conference, Manned Spacecraft Center, August 19, 1971, 10:00

AM (CDT)," transcript; Reuters, "Geologist Defends Selection of Him for Moon Flight," New

York Times, Aug. 20, 1971.

59. N. W. Hinners, "Apollo 16 Site Selection," in Apollo 16 Preliminary Science Report, prepared by

NASA MSC, NASA SP-315 (Washington, 1972).

60. Petrone to Mgr., Apollo Spacecraft Program, MSC, "Selection of Landing Sites for Apollo 16

and 17," Mar. 11, 1971; Lee R. Scherer to multiple addressees, "Apollo 16 and 17 Site Selection

Discussions," May 5, 1971, with encl., "Minutes of the Ad Hoc Site Selection Committee Meeting on Preliminary Apollo 16 and 17 Site Selection Discussions," Apr. 14, 1971; Harold C. Urey

to Hinners, May 11, 1971; James R. Arnold to Scherer, May 13, 1971; Paul W. Gast to Dir., Apollo

Lunar Exploration, "Site for Apollo 16," May 14, 1971; John A. O'Keefe to Hinners, May 14, 1971.

61. Petrone, TWX to multiple addressees, subject: Apollo 16 Landing Site, June 10, 1971; James A.

McDivitt to multiple addressees, "Apollo 16 Landing Site," June 11, 1971.

62. MSC, "Apollo 16 Mission Report," MSC-07230, Aug. 1972, pp. 12-1, A-7 to A-22; Richard R.

Baldwin, "Mission Description," in Apollo 16 Preliminary Science Report.

63. Apollo 16 Mission Report, pp. 3-1, 3-2.

64. Baldwin, "Mission Description." The cable incident was the first to knock out an experiment,

but every mission had experienced similar problems with cables that would not lie flat on the

lunar surface. Furthermore, the space suits did not permit astronauts to see their own feet.

Nonetheless, it caused one columnist to splutter, " ... what we have been watching [is not]

science. Those two klutzes up there on the moon, bumping into each other, unable to repair

what their clumsiness has damaged, didn't look like scientists or lab technicians even. They

looked like ... a couple of miscast wahoo military officers." Nicholas von Hoffman, "Two Klutzes

On the Moon," Washington Post, Apr. 24, 1972. Von Hoffman was rather hyperbolically protesting the continuation of Apollo and the amount of time devoted to coverage of the missions by

the television networks.

65. Apollo 16 Mission Report, p. 1-3; O'Toole, "90-Lb. Scientific Satellite Crashes On Moon, Ends

Study 47 Weeks Early," Washington Post, May 31, 1972.

66. Apollo 16 Mission Report, pp. 5-20 to 5-21, 3-9; Baldwin, "Mission Description."

67. O'Toole, "Scientists Think Apollo 16 Rocks Most Important Haul Yet," Washington Post, Apr.

30, 1972.

68. Idem, "Metallic Iron in Rocks Baffles Moon Scientists," ibid., May 17, 1972; "Moon Theory

Upset By Study of Rocks Astronauts Gathered," Wall Street Journal, May 17, 1972.

69. Hinners, "Apollo 16 Site Selection."

70. Allen L. Hammond, "Lunar Research: No Agreement on Evolutionary Models," Science 175

(1972):868-70.

71. Wilford, "Apollo 17 Crew to Seek Questions for Answers Found by Previous Moon Flights,"

New York Times, Nov. 12, 1972.

72. Bruce R. Doe to Homer E. Newell, Oct. 18, 1971.

73. Petrone to multiple addressees, "Apollo 17 Site Selection," Oct. 28, 1971.

74. N. W. Hinners to Capt. W. T. O'Bryant, "A.S.S.B. Minutes," March 23,1972; O'Toole, "Moon

Landing Site Chosen For the Last Apollo Flight," Washington Post, Feb. 17, 1972.

75. Hinners to O'Bryant, "A.S.S.B. Minutes"; idem, "Apollo 17 Site Selection," in Apollo 17 Preliminary Science Report, NASA SP-330 (Washington, 1973), pp. 1-1 to 1-5; John R. Sevier, interview,

Apr. 24, 1986.

76. T. McGetchin and J. W. Head, "Lunar Cinder Cones," Bellcomm paper, Aug. 4, 1972; Apollo

15 Preliminary Science Report, p. 25-17.

77. OMSF, "Mission Operation Report, Apollo 17 Mission," report no. M-933-72-17, Nov. 8, 1972;

"Apollo 17 Site Selection," NASA Release 72-44, Feb. 16, 1972; Harrison H. Schmitt, "Apollo

17 Report on the Valley of Taurus-Littrow," Science 182 (1972):681-90; Apollo 17 Preliminary

Examination Team, "Apollo 17 Lunar Samples: Chemical and Petrographic Description," ibid.,

pp. 659-72.

78. McDivitt to multiple addressees, "Apollo launch dates," Feb. 22, 1971.

79. John O. Cappellari, ed., "Where on the Moon? An Apollo Systems Engineering Problem," Bell

System Technical Journal 51(5) (May-June 1972):1033-45.

309
Where No Man Has Gone Before

80. Hinners to O'Bryant, "A.S.S.B. Minutes," Feb. 11, 1972; Petrone, TWX to McDivitt, subject:

"Apollo 13 March Launch Window," Dec. 4, 1969; Gilruth, TWX to Petrone, subject: "Night

Launches," Jan. 28, 1970.

81. McDivitt to multiple addressees, "Apollo 17 Landing Site," Feb. 23, 1972.

82. JSC, "Apollo 17 Mission Report," JSC-07904, March 1973, p. 14-1; Benson and Faherty, Moonport, pp. 522-26.

83. Apollo 17 Mission Report, p. 1-1.

84. [bid., p. 3-2.

85. Ibid., pp. 1-1 to 1-2; Schmitt, "Apollo 17 Report on the Valley of Taurus-Littrow."

86. MSC, "Apollo 17 Technical Air-to-Ground Voice Transcription," Dec. 1972 (hereinafter cited

as "17 Air-to-Ground"), tape 76A, pp. 4-8, tape 77A, p. 34, 39-41. This transcript is paginated

by tape number; tape numbers run sequentially in three series, A, B, and undesignated, corresponding to communication with the lunar module (A) and the command module (B) when

the two were separated, and with the command module when all three crewmen were aboard

before and after separation (undesignated).

87. Schmitt, "Apollo 17 Report," p. 682.

88. Apollo 17 Mission Report, pp. 4-5 to 4-11.

89. 17 Air-to-Ground, pp. 91A/1-94A/25; Apollo 17 Mission Report, pp. 10-15 to 10-16; Apollo Field

Geology Investigation Team, "Geologic Exploration of Taurus-Littrow: Apollo 17 Landing Site,"

Science 182 (1973):672-80.

90. 17 Air-to-Ground, pp. 96A18-96A/10.

91. Ibid., pp. 96A/11-96A/55.

92. Apollo 17 Mission Report, pp. 10-16 to 10-17.

93. Ibid.; 17 Air-to-Ground, pp. 112A/20-113A/1.

94. 17 Air-to-Ground, pp. 113A/1-3.

95. "Apollo 17 at Taurus-Littrow," NASA EP-102, p. 30.

96. Apollo 17 Mission Report, pp. 3-2, 12-4, 12-5.

97. Ibid., p. 1-3.

98. William Hines, "End of a crazy business," Chicago Sun-Times, Dec. 21, 1972. Hines went on

to castigate the Apollo project from concept to execution, and concluded by quoting Max Born,

Nobel laureate in physics, who had said in 1958 as the "space race" began, "Intellect distinguishes the possible from the impossible; reason distinguishes the sensible from the senseless.

Spaceflight is a triumph of intellect and a tragic failure of reason."

99. Christian Science Monitor, Dec. 21, 1972, cited in Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1972: Chronology

of Science, Technology and Policy, NASA SP-4017 (Washington, 1974) , p. 440.

100. New York Times, Dec. 14, 1972, cited in Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1972, p. 429.

101. Time, Dec. 11, 1972, cited in Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1972, p. 424.

CHAPTER 14

1. W. David Compton and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA

SP-4208 (Washington, 1983), p. 231, 247, 220.

2. Edward C. Ezell and Linda N. Ezell, The Partnership: A History of the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project,

NASA SP-4209 (Washington, 1978), p. 247; "ASTP Crew Named," MSC Roundup, Feb. 2, 1973.

3. "Moon Rocks Issued," ibid.

4. "Post-Apollo Lunar Science," Report of a study by the Lunar Science Institute, July 1972.

5. Minutes, Apollo Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team meeting, Jan. 29-Feb. 2, 1973.

6. Ibid.

7. John Noble Wilford, "Expert Describes Lunar Cataclysm," New York Times, Mar. 6, 1973.

8. Robert Gillette and Allen L. Hammond, "Lunar Science: Letting Bygones be Bygones," Science

179 (1973):1309; Noel W. Hinners, TWX to A. J. Calio, "Outline of Dr. Low's Talk for 4th Lunar

Science Conference," Mar. 2, 1973.

310
Source Notes

9. Wilford, "Expert Describes Cataclysm"; Boyce Rensberger, "Moon Dead for 3 Billion Years, Experts

Say," New York Times, Feb. 16, 1973; J. C. Huneke, E. K. Jessberger, F. A. Podosek, and G. J.

Wasserburg, "40Ar/39Ar Measurements in Apollo 16 and 17 Samples and the Chronology of Metamorphic and Volcanic Activity in the Taurus-Littrow Region," Proceedings of the Fourth Lunar Science

Conference (New York: Pergamon Press, 1973), pp. 1724-56.

10. Minutes, Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team meeting.

11. Hammond, "Lunar Science: Analyzing the Apollo Legacy," Science 179 (1973):1313-15.

12. Gillette and Hammond, "Lunar Science: Letting Bygones be Bygones."

13. Robert Jastrow, "Moon Still Is A Generally Silent Witness," New York Times, Mar. 24, 1974.

14. G. J. Wasserburg, "The Moon and Sixpence of Science," Astronautics and Aeronautics 10(4) (Apr.

1972):16-21.

15. Material in this and the next paragraph is a synthesis of information from several sources: "Planetology," L. S. Walter, B. M. French, and P. D. Lowman, eds., in Significant Achievements in Space

Science, 1967, NASA SP-167 (Washington, 1968), pp. 326-52; Harold Urey, "The Contending

Moons," Astronautics and Aeronautics 7(1) (Jan. 1969):37-41; A. L. Turkevich, W. A. Anderson,

T. E. Economou, E. J. Franzgrote, H. E. Griffin, S. L. Grotch, J. H. Patterson, and K. P. Sowinski, "The Alpha-Scattering Chemical Analysis Experiment on the Surveyor Lunar Missions,"

in Surveyor Program Results, NASA SP-184 (Washington, 1969), pp. 271-350; Wasserburg, "The

Moon and Sixpence of Science."

16. Gary V. Latham, Maurice Ewing, Frank Press, George Sutton, James Dorman, Yosio Nakamura,

Nafi Toksoz, David Lammlein, and Fred Duennebier, "Passive Seismic Experiment," in Apollo 16

Preliminary Science Report, NASA SP-315 (Washington, 1972), p. 9-1. This massive chunk of rock

struck approximately 145 kilometers (90 miles) north of the Apollo 14 station on May 13, 1972.

17. Hammond, "Lunar Science: Analyzing the Apollo Legacy."

18. Ibid.; Wasserburg, "The Moon and Sixpence of Science."

19. Material in the following paragraphs is based primarily on Harrison H. Schmitt's summary, "Evolution of the Moon: The 1974 Model," in The Soviet-American Conference on Cosmochemistry of the

Moon and Planets, John H. Pomero and Norman J. Hubbard, eds., NASA SP-370 (Washington,

1977), pp. 63-80, and S. Ross Taylor's Lunar Science: A Post-Apollo View (New York: Pergamon

Press, 1975).

20. The Lunar Geoscience Working Group, Status and Future of Lunar Geoscience, NASA SP-484

(Washington, 1986), pp. 3-32. Members of this working group were: P. D. Spudis, U.S. Geological Survey, chairman; B. R. Hawke, Univ. of Hawaii; L. L. Hood, Univ. of Arizona; P. H. Schultz,

Brown Univ.; G. J. Taylor, Univ. of New Mexico; and D. E. Wilhelms, U.S. Geological Survey.

This 54-page booklet provides a brief summary of the current understanding of the moon and

a prospectus for future lunar exploration (manned and unmanned). It also contains a 5-page scientific bibliography covering recent work in lunar science.

21. Wasserburg, "The Moon and Sixpence of Science."

22. Ibid.

23. Ibid.

24. R. Cargill Hall, Lunar Impact: A History of Project Ranger, NASA SP-4210 (Washington, 1977), pp.

308-309.

25. L. D. Jaffe and others, "Principal Scientific Results From the Surveyor Program, in Surveyor Program Results, NASA SP-184 (Washington, 1969), pp. 13-17. Wasserburg remarks ("The Moon

and Sixpence of Science") that with hindsight, the clues from Surveyor provided broad answers

to the question of the moon's internal structure.

26. Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1970: Chronology on Science, Technology, and Policy, NASA SP-4015

(Washington, 1972), pp. 52-53; ibid., 1972, NASA SP-4017 (Washington, 1974), pp. 52-53.

27. Wasserburg, "The Moon and Sixpence of Science."

28. Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), p. xv.

29. Ibid., p. 31.

30. Homer E. Newell, Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA SP-4211 (Washington, 1980), p. 246. Newell also commented that the Houston center "developed an arrogance

born of unbounded self-confidence and possession of a leading role in the nation's number-one

space project, Apollo."

31. Ibid., pp. 204-205.

311
Where No Man Has Gone Before

32. Brooks, Grimwood, and Swenson, Chariots, p. 127.

33. NASA 1965 Summer Conference on Lunar Exploration and Science, NASA SP-88 (Washington, 1965),

p. 2.

34. 1967 Summer Study of Lunar Science and Exploration, NASA SP-157 (Washington, 1967), p. iii.

35. Michael Collins, Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut's Journeys (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux,

1974), p. 360.

36. A Review of Space Research, report of the Summer Study conducted under the auspices of the Space

Science Board of the National Academy of Sciences at the State University of Iowa, June 17-August

10, 1962, National Academy of Sciences-National Research Council Publication 1079 (Washington, 1962), p. 11-19. A questionnaire sent to several prominent scientists before the study sought

opinions on the place of scientists in manned space flight. To the question, "How do we develop

our astro-scientists?" the consensus of replies included the statement that qualified scientists

"should go through astronaut training for part of each year to become familiar with problems

of space flight. It is hoped that this would not involve too large a fraction of their time, since

emphasis should be on their development as scientists."

37. An unnamed Marshall Space Flight Center engineer paraphrased Slayton's attitude as, "it is easier

to teach an astronaut to pick up rocks than to teach a geologist to land on the moon." Minutes

of the combined MSFC staff and board meeting;, Nov. 10, 1969. This statement should be read

alongside the scientists' estimate of the difficulties of space flight training cited in 36.

38. Harrison H. Schmitt interview, May 30, 1984. Elbert King, who was involved with crew training

for the earlier missions, confirmed Schmitt's evaluation of Armstrong's ability as an observer:

"Armstrong ... never said much, was kind of quiet on field trips, and we really didn't know

how much of this he was soaking up.... It turned out that he had really picked up a lot of

it and was doing very well with it." Elbert H. King, Jr., interview with Loyd S. Swenson, Jr.,

May 27, 1971, tape in JSC History Office files.

39. Schmitt interview.

40. See, for example, the report of a series of science workshops sponsored by NASA's Ames Research

Center, The Search for Extraterrestrial Intelligence: SETT, NASA SP-419 (Washington, 1977). One

group stated the central proposition this way: "The conclusion that the origin and evolution of

life is inextricably interwoven with the origin and evolution of the cosmos seems inescapable"

(p. 41). The question arose again in the Viking mission to Mars, which carried experiments designed

to detect life. Some scientists, it seems, desperately wanted to detect life on Mars. See Edward

Clinton Ezell and Linda Neuman Ezell, On Mars: Exploration of the Red Planet 1958-1978, NASA

SP-4212 (Washington, 1984) , pp. 409-14.

41. Richard S. Johnston, Lawrence F. Dietlein, M.D., and Charles A. Berry, M.D., eds., Biomedical

Results of Apollo, NASA SP-368 (Washington, 1975), pp. 410-11, 418.

42. William Hines, "End of a Crazy Business," Chicago Sun-Times, Dec. 21, 1972.

43. Foy D. Kohler and Dodd L. Harvey, "Administering and Managing the U.S. and Soviet Space

Programs," Science 169 (1970):1049-55.

44. John Noble Wilford, "A Spacefaring People: Keynote Address," in Alex Roland, ed., A Spacefaring People: Perspectives on Early Spaceflight, NASA SP-4405 (Washington, 1985), proceedings of a

conference on the history of space activity held at Yale University, Feb. 6-7, 1981.

312
APPENDIX 1

ORGANIZATION CHARTS:

NASA, OMSF, OSSA, MSC

ADMINISTRATOR

DEPUTY

ADMINISTRATOR

ASSOCIATE

ADMINISTRATOR

Office of Office of

Program Planning Public

and Evaluation I Information

General

Counsel

Office of

Space Flight

Development

Space Flight Advanced

Operations Technology

Office of Office of

Business International

Administration Programs

Asst. Administrator for

Congressional Relations

Office of

Aeronautical and

Space Research

Structuresand Materials Aerodynamics

and Aircraft and Flight

Operating Problems Mechanics

Propulsion I Space Science

SPACE PROJECT CENTERS

BeltsvilleJet Propulsion

Space Center Laboratory

Office of

University of +

Power Plants

RESEARCH CENTERS

Langley Lewis

Research Center Research Center

Space Task I I Wallops

Group Station Ames

Research Center

High-speed

Flight Station

NASA ORGANIZATION, JANUARY 1959

313
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ADMINISTRATOR

DEPUTY

ADMINISTRATOR

ASSOCIATE

ADMINISTRATOR

Office of Office of Office of Office of

Launch Vehicle Space Flight Advanced Research Life Sciences

Programs Programs Programs Programs

Vehicles Applications

and Manned Flight Bioengineering Structures and

Operating Problems

Propulsion Satellites and

Sounding Rockets Bioscience Aerodynamics and

Flight Mechanics

Launch Lunar and Grants and

Operations Planetary Programs Power Plants Contracts

Space Flight h

Operations

E^t

sited)

Marshall Space Goddard Langley Lewis

Space Flight Task Space Flight Research Research

Center Group Center Center Center

Launch Jet Ames Flight

Operations Propulsion Wallops Research Research

Directorate Laboratory Station C enter Center

NASA SPACE FLIGHT ORGANIZATION, JANUARY 1461

314
Appendix 1

ADMINISTRATOR

DEPUTY

ADMINISTRATOR

ASSOCIATE

ADMINISTRATOR

OFFICE OF OFFICE OF MANNED SPACE APPLICATIONS O FLIGHT

OFFICE OF ADVANCED RESEARCH

AND TECHNOLOGY

OFFICE OF

SPACE SCIENCES

Program Review Program Review

and Resources and Resources

Management Management

Systems Meteorological

Engineering Systems

Spacecraft and Communications

Flight Missions Systems

Launch Vehicles Future

and Propulsion Systems

Aerospace

Medicine

Program Review

i

and Resources

Management

Aeronautical

Research

Propulsion

and Power

Electronics

and Control

Space

Vehicles

Nuclear

Systems

Program Review

and Resources

Management

Grants and

Research Contracts

Launch Vehicles

and Propulsion

Lunar and

Planetary Programs

Geophysics and

Astronomy Programs

Bioscience

Programs

Director of

Research

Ames Manned Langley

Research Spacecraft Research

Center I I Center I I Center

Lewis GoddardMarshall

Research Space Flight Space Flight

Center I I Center Center

Wallops

Station

Jet

Propulsion

Laboratory

Flight

Research

Center

Launch

Operations

Directorate

NASA SPACE FLIGHT ORGANIZATION, NOVEMBER 1961

315
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ADMINISTRATOR

DEPUTY

ADMINISTRATOR

ASSOCIATE

ADMINISTRATOR

Director

Tracking and Data

Acquisition

OFFICE OF OFFICE OF OFFICE OF

MANNED SPACE SCIENCE AND ADVANCED RESEARCH

FLIGHT APPLICATIONS AND TECHNOLOGY

Program Program Program

Offices•

Offices• I I

Manned Space Science

Division

Manned I I Marshall I Kennedy

Spacecraft Space Flight Space

Center Center Center

Goddard Space I I jet Propulsion

Flight Center Laboratory

Wallops Pacific Launch

Station I I Operations Office

Ames

Research

Center

Langley B Y Lewis Flight B

Research Research Research

Center Center Center

See separate detailed charts.

NASA SPACE FLIGHT ORGANIZATION, NOVEMBER 1963

316
Appendix 1

ADMINISTRATOR

DEPUTY

ADMINISTRATOR

ASSOCIATE

ADMINISTRATOR

OFFICE OF OFFICE OF

OFFICE OF OFFICE OF ADVANCED OFFICE OF TRACKING MANNED SPACE APPLICATIONS AND DATA RESEARCH

SPACE FLIGHT SCIENCE ACQUISITION AND

TECHNOLOGY

Program Program Program Program

Offices Offices I I Offices Offices

Goddard

Space Flight

Center

Jet Propulsion

Laboratory

Wallops

Station

Manned M1larshall Kennedy

Spacecraft Space Flight Space

Center Center Center

Ames Langley Lewis Flight

Research Research Research Research

Center Center Center Center

NASA HEADQUARTERS SPACE FLIGHT ORGANIZATION, JANUARY 1972

317
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Science and ASSOCIATE

Technology — ADMINISTRATOR

Advisory FOR MANNED

Committee SPACE FLIGHT

Manned Space Flight

Experiments Board

DIRECTOR DIRECTOR

Program MSF Field Center

Control Development

Bellcomm, Inc. AA

OSSA

DIRECTOR

Manned Space Science

DIRECTOR DIRECTOR

MSF Space

Operations Medicine

Director Director Director

Apollo Gemini Advanced

Program Program Programs

Director Director Director

Program Systems Test

Control Engineering Programs

r

Director Director

Reliability Flight

and Quality Operations

MarshallKennedy

Space Flight Space

Center Center

Manned

Spacecraft

Center

OFFICE OF MANNED SPACE FLIGHT ORGANIZATION, FEBRUARY 1964

318
Appendix 1

Science and ASSOCIATE

Technology _ ADMINISTRATOR

Advisory FOR MANNED

Committee SPACE FLIGHT

Bellcomm, Inc. — Manned Space Flight

Experiments Board

DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR

Program MSF Field Cent er MSF Management Space

Control Development Operations Medicine

Director Director

Apollo Advanced

Applications Manned Missions

Program Program

Director

Apollo

Program

Program Systems Test Control Eng.

Director

Lunar

Operations

Exploration

Quality &

Reliability

Flight

Systems

Development

Lunar

Science

Space I Space

Shuttle Station

Task Force Task Force

Marshall

Space Flight

Center

Kennedy I

Manned

Space Spacecraft

Center Center

OFFICE OF MANNED SPACE FLIGHT ORGANIZATION, 1969

319
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ASSOCIATE

ADMINISTRATOR

FOR MANNED

SPACE FLIGHT

Manned Space Flight

Experiments Board

DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR

Budget and Engineering Reliability Administration

Program Analysis and Operations Quality and Safety

Director Director Director

Space Station Advanced Life

Task Force Missions Sciences

Director Director Director

Apollo Skylab Space Shuttle

Program Program Program

Program Budget W

Systems

and Control I l 1 Engineering

Lunar Engineering Exploration

Operations

Marshall Kennedy Manned

Space Flight Space Spacecraft

Center Center Center

OFFICE OF MANNED SPACE FLIGHT ORGANIZATION, MARCH 1972

320
Appendix 1

Space ASSOCIATE

Science _ ADMINISTRATOR

Board FOR SPACE SCIENCE

(NAS) AND APPLICATIONS

DIRECTOR I DIRECTOR

Science Applications

Programs Programs

Director

Program Review and

Resources Management

Director Director

Bioscience Geophysics and

Programs Astronomy Programs

Division Division

Director

Lunar and

Planetary

Programs

Division

Goddard Jet

Space Flight Propulsion

Center Laboratory

AA, OMSF

DIRECTOR

Manned Space

Science Division

Director

Grants and

Research Contracts

Director Director

Communication and Meteorology

Navigation Programs Programs

Division Division

Director

Launch Vehicle

and Propulsion

Programs

Division

Wallops Pacific Launch

Station Operations

Office

OFFICE OF SPACE SCIENCE AND APPLICATIONS ORGANIZATION, FEBRUARY 1964

321
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Space ASSOCIATE

Science _ ADMINISTRATOR

Board FOR SPACE SCIENCE

(NAS) AND APPLICATIONS

DEPUTY AA DEPUTY AA

Science Engineering

Director

Program Review

and Resources

Management

Director Director Director Director Director

Bioscience Physics and Planetary Space Launch Vehicles

Programs Astronomy Programs Applications and Propulsion

Division Programs Division Programs Programs

Division Division Division

Goddard

Space Flight

Center

Jet

Propulsion

Laboratory

Wallops

Station

Pacific Launch

Operations

Office

OFFICE OF SPACE SCIENCE AND APPLICATIONS ORGANIZATION, JUNE 1969

322
Appendix 1

ASSOCIATE

ADMINISTRATOR

FOR

SPACE SCIENCE

Director Director Director

Program Review and Advanced Launch Vehicles and

Resources Management Programs Propulsion Programs

Director Director

Planetary Physics and

Programs Astronomy Programs

Goddard Wallops Jet

Space Flight Station Propulsion

Center Laboratory

OFFICE OF SPACE SCIENCES ORGANIZATION, MARCH 1972

323
Where No Man Has Gone Before

DIRECTOR

Chief ^_

Medical Advisor Assistants

Associate

Director

Advanced Studies Reliability and Program Analysis Special Asst.

and Mission Flight Safety and Evaluation for Astronaut

Analysis Office Office Affairs

Public Affairs I I Legal

Office Office

ASST. DIRECTOR ASST. DIRECTOR

Research and Engineering

Development Support

ASST. DIRECTOR

Operations

ASST. DIRECTOR

Administration

Life Systems Flight Operations

Division Division

Spacecraft Flight Crew

Research Operations

Division Division

Preflight Operations

Systems Division

Evaluation and

Development

Division

Atlantic Missile

Range Operation

Apollo Spacecraft Mercury Gemini Spacecraft

Project Project Project

Office Office Office

Planning and Command and Guidance and Systems

Resources Service Module Control Development Integration

MANNED SPACECRAFT CENTER ORGANIZATION, AUGUST 1962

324
Appendix 1

DIRECTOR

Assistants

Deputy

Director

Center Medical Reliability and Public Legal Liaison Operations Flight Safety Affairs

Office Office Office Office Offices

ASST. DIRECTOR

Engineering and

Development

Guidance and

Control Div.

Structures and

Mechanics Div.

Crew Syslems

Division

Advanced Spacecraft

Technology Division

Egy

Propulsion and

Energy

Systems Div.

Instrumentation

and Electronic

^- Systems Div.

ld Syst Groun ems

Project Office

ASST. DIRECTOR

Flight Crew

Operations

Astronaut

Office

Flight Crew

Support Div.

Aircraft Operations

Office

ASST. DIRECTOR

Flight

Operations

Flight Control

Division

Recovery

Operations Div.

Mission Analysis

Division

ASST. DIRECTOR

Administration

Office of Technical

and Engineering

Services

Technical Services

Division

Gemini Program

Office

Apollo

Spacecraft

Project Office

Program Control

Division

Test

Division

Systems

Engineering Div.

Operations

Planning

Division

Reliability and

Quality Assurance

Division

MANNED SPACECRAFT CENTER ORGANIZATION, JANUARY 1964

325
Where No Man Has Gone Before

DIRECTOR

Assistants

Deputy

Director

Flight Safety Legal Public Affairs

Office Office Office L

DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR

Engineering and Flight Crew Flight

Development Operations Operations

DIRECTOR DIRECTOR

Medical Research Science and

and Operations Applications

Biomedical Medical Space

Research Operations Physics

Office Office Division

Occupational and

Environmental

Medicine Office

Lunar Surface

Project Office 

Liaison

Offices

DIRECTOR

Administration

Lunar and Earth

Sciences

Division

Applications

Project Office

Lunar Receiving

Laboratory

Apollo Apollo

Spacecraft Applications

Project Office Project Office Project Office

MANNED SPACECRAFT CENTER ORGANIZATION, APRIL 1967

326
Appendix 1

DIRECTOR

Assistants

Deputy

Director

Space Station Legal Public Affairs Liaison

Task Group Office Office Offices

DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR Engineering and Flight Crew Flight Administration Development Operations Operations

DIRECTOR DIRECTOR

Medical Research Science and

and Operations Applications

Medical Operations Lunar and Space

Division Earth Sciences Physics

Division Division

Preventive Lunar Earth

Medicine Receiving Resources

Division Laboratory Division

Biomedical Lunar

Laboratories Surface

Division Project Office

Biomedical Advanced Mapping

Technology Systems Sciences

Division Office Laboratory

Apollo Apollo Advanced

Spacecraft Applications Missions

Project Office Project Office Program Office

MANNED SPACECRAFT CENTER ORGANIZATION, AUGUST 1969

327
Where No Man Has Gone Before

DIRECTOR

Assistants

DEPUTY

DIRECTOR

Technic

l anninal Legal I Public

Pg Office Affairs

Office Office

Safetv Liaison Reliability

Office Offices and Quality

Assurance Office

DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR DIRECTOR

Administration Medical Research Flight Crew Flight Science and Engineering and

and Program and Operations Operations Operations Applications Development

Support

Biomedical Flight Crew Flight Planetary and Information

Laboratories Integration Control Earth Sciences Systems

Division Division Division Division Division

Preventive Crew Training Landing and Earth Crew

Medicine and Simula- Recovery Observations Systems

Division tion Division Division Division Division

Medical Crew Mission Science Space

Operations Procedures Planning and Missions Environment

Division Division Analysis Div. Support Div. Test Division

Project Astronaut Computation utation Lunar Sample Guidance and

Support Office and Analysis Office Control

Division Division Division

:Management Flight Advanced Propulsion

Operations Support Programs and Power

Office Division Office Division

Aircraft Earth Structures

Operations Observations and Mechanics

Office Aircraft Office Division

Lunar Spacecraft

Receiving Design

Laboratory Division

Engineering

Analysis

Division

Skylab Apollo Space Shuttle Space Shuttle Space Shuttle

Program Program Program Project Engineering

Office Office Office Office Office Telemetry and

Communications Division

Electronic

Systems Inte- Experiments

gration Office Project Support

Office

Earth Lunar Lunar

Observations Orbit Surface

Expts. Expts. Expts.

MSC ORGANIZATION, 1972

328
APPENDIX 2

APOLLO FUNDING HISTORY

Apollo Funding History'

Fiscal Funding Breakdown

Year (thousands of dollars)

1962

Original budget request NASA: $1,235,300 Oribital flight tests $ 63,900

Apollo: 29,500 Biomedical flight tests 16,550

High-speed reentry tests 27,550

Final budget appropriation NASA: 1,671,750 Spacecraft development 52,000

Apollo: 160,000

1963

Original budget request NASA: $3,787,276 Command/service module $ 345,000

including FY 1962 supplemental Apollo: 617,164 Lunar module 123,100

Guidance & navigation 32,400

Instrumentation & scientific equipment 11,500

Final budget appropriation NASA: 3,674,115 Operational Support 2,500

with FY 1962 supplemental Apollo: 617,164 Supporting development 3,000

Little Joe II devl. 8,800

Saturn 1 90,864

1964

Original budget request NASA: $3,926,000 Commandlservice module $ 545,874

including FY 1963 supplemental Apollo: 2,243,900 Lunar module 135,000

Guidance & navigation 91,499

Integration, reliability, & checkout 60,699

Fiscal budget appropriation NASA: 3,974,979 Spacecraft support 43,503

with FY 1963 supplemental Apollo: 2,272,952 Saturn 1 187,077

Saturn IB 146,817

Saturn V 763,382

Engine development 166,000

Apollo mission support 133,101

1965

Original budget request NASA: $4,523,000 Command/service module $ 577,834

including FY 1964 supplemental Apollo: 2,818,500 Lunar module 242,600

Guidance & navigation 91,499

Integration, reliability, & checkout 24,763

Fiscal budget appropriation NASA: 4,270,695 Spacecraft support 83,663

with FY 1964 supplemental Apollo: 2,614,619 Saturn I & IB 302,955

Saturn V 964,924

Engine development 166,300

Apollo mission support 170,542

1966

Original budget request-no NASA: $4,575,900 Command/service module $ 615,000

supplemental for prior fiscal year Apollo: 2,997,385 Lunar module 310,800

Guidance & navigation 115,000

Integration, reliability, & checkout 34,400

Fiscal budget appropriation-no NASA: 4,511,644 Spacecraft support 95,400

supplemental for prior fiscal year Apollo: 2,967,385 Saturn FIB 274,985

Saturn V 1,177,320

Engine development 134,095

Apollo mission support 210,385

'Source: The Apollo Spacecraft: A Chrolonogy, vols. 1-4, NASA SP-4009 (Washington, 1969-1978)

329
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Fiscal Funding Breakdown

Year (thousands of dollars)

1967

Original budget request NASA: $4,246,600 Command/service module $ 560,400

Apollo: 2,974,200 Lunar module 472,500

Guidance & navigation 76,654

Fiscal budget appropriation NASA: 4,175,100 Integration, reliability, & checkout 29,975

Apollo: 2,916,200 Spacecraft support 110,771

Saturn IB 236,600

Saturn V 1,135,600

Engine development 49,800

Apollo mission support 243,900

1968

Original budget request NASA: $4,324,500 Command/service module $ 455,300

including FY 1967 supplemental Apollo: 2,606,500 Lunar module 399,600

Guidance & navigation 113,000

Integration, reliability, & checkout 66,600

Final budget appropriation NASA: 3,970,000 Spacecraft Support 60,500

including FY 1967 supplemental Apollo: 2,556,000 Saturn IB 146,600

Saturn V 998,900

Engine development 18,700

Apollo mission support 296,800

1969

Original budget request NASA: $3,677,000 Command/service module $ 282,821

Apollo: 2,036,800 Lunar module 326,000

Guidance & navigation 43,900

Integration, reliability, & checkout 65,100

Fiscal budget appropriation NASA: 3,193,559 Spacecraft support 121,800

Apollo: 2,025,000 Saturn IB 41,347

Saturn V 534,453

Manned space flight operations 546,400

1970

Original budget request NASA: $3,168,900 Commandlservice module $ 282,821

including FY 1969 supplemental Apollo: 1,651,100 Lunar module 231,433

Guidance & navigation 33,866

Science payloads 60,094

Fiscal budget appropriation NASA: 3,113,765 Spacecraft support 170,764

with FY 1969 reserve Apollo: 1,686,145 Saturn V 484,439

Manned space flight operations 314,693

Advanced development 11,500

1971

Original budget request NASA: $2,606,100 Flight modules $ 245,542

Apollo: 956,500 Science payloads 106,194

Ground support 46,411

Saturn V 189,05^

Fiscal budget appropriation NASA: 2,555,000 Manned space flight operations 314,963

Apollo: 913,669 Advanced development 11,500

1972

Original budget request NASA: $2,517,700 Flight modules $ 55,033

Apollo: 612,200 Science payloads 52,100

Ground support 31,659

Saturn V 142,458

Fiscal budget appropriation NASA: 2,507,700 Manned space Flight operations 307,450

Apollo: 601,200 Advanced development 12,500

1973

Original budget request NASA: $2,600,900 Spacecraft $ 50,400

Apollo: 128,700 Saturn V 29,309

Fiscal budget appropriation NASA: 2,509,900

Apollo: 76,700

330
APPENDIX 3

LUNAR EXPLORATION PLANNING, 1961-1967

Scientific Questions in Lunar Exploration*

Major questions in the exploration of the Moon fall chiefly in three categories

of basic problems: 1) structure and processes of the lunar interior, 2) the composition and structure of the surface of the Moon and the processes modifying the

surface, and 3) the history or evolutionary sequence of events by which the Moon

has arrived at its present configuration. The possibility that ancient rocks and

deposits on the Moon's surface may contain a unique record of events related

to the formation or accretion of the terrestrial planets gives the scientific exploration of the moon unusual potential significance. There is also the minor possibility of finding prebiotic material....

The major questions are as follows:

Structure and Processes of the Lunar Interior

(1) Is the internal structure of the Moon radially symmetrical like the Earth,

and if so, is it differentiated? Specifically, does it have a core and does

it have a crust?

(2) What is the geometric shape of the Moon? How does the shape depart

from fluid equilibrium? Is there a fundamental difference in morphology

and history between the sub-Earth and averted faces of the Moon?

(3) What is the present internal energy regime of the Moon? Specifically, what

is the present heat flow at the surface and what are the sources of this

heat? Is the Moon seismically active and is there active volcanism? Does

the Moon have an internally produced magnetic field?

Composition, Structure, and Processes of the Lunar Surface

(1) What is the average composition of the rocks at the surface of the Moon

and how does the composition vary from place to place? Are volcanic rocks

present on the surface of the Moon?

(2) What are the principal processes responsible for the present relief of the

lunar surface?

(3) What is the present tectonic pattern on the Moon and distribution of tectonic activity?

*Listed here are the "Fifteen Questions" that formed the basis for subsequent planning in lunar

exploration. Source: National Academy of Sciences-National Research Council Publication 1403, Space

Research: Directions for the Future (Washington, 1966), pp. 21-22.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

(4) What are the dominant processes of erosion, transport, and deposition

of material on the lunar surface?

(5) What volatile substances are present on or near the surface of the Moon

or in a transitory lunar atmosphere?

(6) Is there evidence of organic or proto-organic materials on or near the lunar

surface? Are living organisms present beneath the surface?

History of the Moon

(1) What is the age of the Moon? What is the range of age of the stratigraphic

units on the lunar surface and what is the age of the oldest exposed material? Is a primordial surface exposed?

(2) What is the history of dynamical interaction between the Earth and the

Moon?

(3) What is the thermal history of the Moon? What has been the distribution

of tectonic and possible volcanic activity in time?

(4) What has been the flux of solid objects striking the lunar surface in the

past and how has it varied with time?

(5) What has been the flux of cosmic radiation and high-energy solar radiation over the history of the Moon?

(6) What past magnetic fields may be recorded in the rocks at the Moon's

surface?

Recommendations of the 1965 Summer Conference

on Lunar Exploration and Science,

Falmouth, Mass., July 19-31, 1965

The Falmouth conference of 1965 made the first concerted effort to define a systematic 10-year program of lunar exploration, giving primary emphasis to manned

exploration. Working groups were established in the disciplines of geodesy/cartography, geology, geophysics, bioscience, geochemistry (mineralogy and petrology),

particles and fields, lunar atmosphere measurements, and astronomy. At the conclusion of the conference each disciplinary working group prepared a report, from

which a summary was prepared by a coordinating committee. Following are

excerpts from the summary, which set forth the major requirements for the

program. *

MISSION SUMMARY

INTRODUCTION

In this chapter the major recommendations of the Working Groups are arranged by missions or

programs. The suggested priorities, instrument allocations, and mission characteristics for various

vehicles are indicated briefly....

Although there was some overlap, most of the recommendations could be divided into these missions: Apollo, Lunar Orbiter, Apollo Extension System-Manned Lunar Orbiter (AES-MLO), Apollo

*NASA 1965 Summer Conference on Lunar Exploration and Science, NASA SP-88 (Washington, 1965).

332
Appendix 3

Extension System-Manned Lunar Surface (AES-MLS) and Post-AES.... As the scientific instruments and space vehicle characteristics and availability become more clearly defined, the assignment

of experiments will become clearer.

OVERALL PROGRAM

The plans and recommendations of the 1965 Lunar Exploration Summer Conference are based on

a 10-year program of exploration, beginning with the first manned lunar landing in the Apollo program. The recommendations of this conference are limited to the 10-year period following the first

Apollo lunar landings because a decade seems to be the approximate maximum time for which developments can be meaningfully forecast. In addition, the long lead times involved in the development

of equipment for use in space flight require that recommendations be made to cover this period of

time. In carrying out these recommendations, it will be necessary for the National Aeronautics and

Space Administration to conduct its programs in a way that permits a maximum degree of flexibility

to meet changing requirements.

The need for flexibility is also important for determining the rate at which missions should be conducted during this ten-year period. It is clearly desirable to schedule flight missions to provide adequate time between missions to react to the findings of one mission by modifying experiments for

a later mission. One method of accomplishing this is through the modular construction of individual

experiments. It is also desirable to program certain types of experiments so that the time of the operation of the devices used on one mission will overlap with the operating time of devices operated

on a subsequent mission. This will provide not only scientific continuity in the experiments, but also

simultaneous data from a multiplicity of lunar locations.

In addition, overall program planning considerations dictate the scheduling of missions at relatively

close intervals. It is clearly desirable to maintain a certain degree of program momentum, both for

psychological reasons and to make certain that the project personnel analyzing the results are provided

with definite goals over a relatively long period of time.

On consideration of all of these factors, it was the feeling of the Working Groups that the National

Aeronautics and Space Administration should schedule lunar surface missions at a minimum rate

of one per year or possibly two through 1974. Lunar orbital missions should be conducted at the

rate of one per year. Since many of the lunar surface missions will require two flights each, three

to five Apollo/Saturn V vehicles are required annually.

Present indications are that lunar exploration should continue at the same rate in the latter half

of the 1970s. However, there seems to be no need now to plan the flight mission assignment schedule for that period of time.

THE EARLY APOLLO MISSIONS

It is assumed that at least the first missions, with durations limited to a day or two and with exploration limited to an area close to the point of landing, will be dominated by operational considerations. Since the highest mission priority is assigned to the safety of the astronauts, the bulk of their

time and attention will be devoted to perfecting the procedures of flight. In the relatively short duration of these early missions, the time assigned to scientific lunar exploration as such will be limited.

All experiments should be designed to conserve the astronauts' time, the most valuable scientific

commodity on the early missions.

As flight procedures and techniques are perfected, and as improved flight equipment becomes available, plans should be made to gradually increase the duration of stays on the Moon, the distance

traveled from the point of landing, and the proportion of the astronauts' time devoted to lunar exploration. A judicious use of "manned" and "unmanned" spacecraft will be required to obtain maximum coverage. Recommendations were made by some groups concerning the specific instrumentation

to be carried on each of the first three landings.

Training of the astronauts in sampling techniques and field geology is of the utmost importance

to insure the intelligent collection of samples. To assure collection of sterile samples, training is required

for the astronauts in the nature of contamination, transfer of contaminants, aseptic transfer procedures, and chemical cleanliness.

Priorities for Experiments

The highest priority activity for the early Apollo landings is to return the greatest number and variety of samples as is feasible. It is desirable that all samples be kept sterile and free of chemical contaminants from such sources as the LEM fuels, the LEM atmosphere or the outgassing or leakage

333
Where No Man Has Gone Before

of the astronaut's suit. A variety of easily obtainable samples should be collected, ranging from dust

to rock sizes. These samples should be taken as far from the LEM as possible. Both surface and subsurface samples are required. In the event of a semiaborted or shortened stay on the lunar surface,

the astronaut's first scientific duty is the collection of as many samples as possible, without regard

to sterility.

The second priority for the Early Apollo is the emplacement of the Lunar Surface Experiment Package (LSEP) by the astronauts. This should be emplaced to attain optimum operating conditions. Next

in priority are the lunar geological traverses by the astronauts. If feasible, these should be accurately

controlled with automatic procedures and monitoring. The description of topographic and geologic

relations along the traverse lines should be supplemented by stereoscopic photographs.

Equipment Requirements

The working groups were asked to consider equipment priority beginning with the most important. Weights assigned are the absolute minimum needed to accomplish the task. In some cases (i.e.,

sample tools), added weight and complexity would be desirable if weight and space were available.

This priority list is as follows:

1. Sample containers (10 lb.) should keep samples sterile and chemically clean. Stainless steel

is acceptable. More studies should be completed relative to the use of Teflon in the lunar

environment.

2. Sampling tools (10 lb.) should be easily operable, light, and simple; e.g., space hardened rock

hammer, rubber mallet, sun compass.

3. Aseptic sample collection tool (10 lb.).

4. Photography (7 lb.): A stereoscopic camera with several filters and polarizing lenses.

5. LSEP experiments: Suggested experiments in order of priority are: a passive seismograph (25

lb.); a magnetometer/particle detector (13 lb.) and a heat flow measurement device (15 lb.);

an active seismograph experiment (7-10 lb.); a micrometeoroid detector (15 lb.). The gravimeter

should be considered for AES because of its weight and development complexities.

Preliminary Studies

Studies and tests should be started immediately to determine the amounts and effects of the outgassing of the astronauts' suits and the escape of the atmosphere from the LEM. Sterilization of the

escaping atmosphere from the LEM should be considered. Analyses of the possible contaminants

in the LEM fuel and the effects on sample collection should be undertaken.

Sample Investigations

Upon return of the lunar samples to Earth, they will be prepared at a Lunar Sample Receiving Laboratory (LSRL) for distribution. Here they will be logged in, cataloged, checked for outgassing, measured for low level radiation, and examined for pathogenic agents. Only those tests that must be done

immediately will be conducted at the LSRL. The portion of samples to be distributed will be packaged and initial distribution to the selected scientific investigators will be made.

EARLY LUNAR ORBITERS

In the period before the end of the decade two classes of missions are scheduled.

Unmanned Missions

These missions will begin in the period of 1966-1967. The primary function for the approved missions is site selection, and hence, low altitude orbiters are desirable. However, should particles and

field experiments be included on later flights, altitudes of 150 to 2000 km are required. Following

are some specific recommendations for inclusion on these flights:

1. Cartography. Stereophotogrammetric analysis of the photography obtained by the first block

of Lunar Orbiters should be carried out to obtain information regarding the character of lunar

topography and to gain experience in analyzing lunar photography. It is recommended that

later first block Lunar Orbiters, or any second block, be placed in orbits of different inclinations, with priority for a polar orbit.

2. Particles and Fields. A three-axis magnetometer and particle package to study day-night changes

in particle and field environment should be included. For these experiments the spacecraft

should be radioactvely and magnetically clean.

334
Appendix 3

3. Lunar Atmospheres. Pressure, flux, and mass measurements for determination of neutral and

ionic constituents should be conducted. This study is advantageous for early flights because

of the uncontaminated state of the atmosphere.

Manned Missions

Consideration should be given to the inclusion of simple diagnostic experiments to be conducted

from the orbiting Command/Service Module (CSM) in conjunction with Apollo experiments on the

lunar surface.

AES MANNED LUNAR ORBITER (AES-MLO)

Role of AES-MLO

Since less than 1 percent of the lunar surface will be visited in the near future, a major source of

scientific knowledge will come from orbiting spacecraft. Extensive information can be easily obtained

for the following reasons:

1. Variation of orbital inclinations will permit mapping of the entire lunar surface.

2. Absence of atmosphere allows all regions of the electromagnetic spectrum to be accessible.

Thus, Manned Lunar Orbiters can provide useful additions to the subsurface information obtained

from geophysical studies and to the local studies from fixed and traversing surface experiments. Because

of the orbiter's nature, however, they cannot provide information with the same precision and detail

as the surface instruments. Orbital investigations offer the potential of identifying local areas of the

lunar surface with unusual properties that might be of interest for future manned exploration.

It is recommended that one orbiter carrying the remote sensing package be flown before the first

AES landings. Polar orbiters are desirable at the earliest time for total coverage of the lunar surface

by remote sensors. In the first phase of lunar exploration (complete orbital survey), five or six missions are believed to be appropriate. Subsequently, AES-MLOs will be necessary to support and supplement the AES surface operations, as well as to monitor lunar activity. Launch rates should be

approximately one a year.

A systematic program of geologic mapping using orbital data is recommended with the preparation of geologic maps at the following scales:

1. 1:2,500,000. Synoptic map for general planning and collating of a wide variety of data about

the gross features of the Moon.

2. 1:1,000,000. Complete synoptic geologic mapping.

3. 1:250,000. Total coverage of the lunar surface. This is a long-range goal.

4. 1:100,000; 1:25,000. Special purpose, directed toward solution of selected topical problems.

Photography Equipment

For complete photographic coverage of the lunar surface the lunar Orbital Camera System should

include the following camera subsystems:

1. Metric (Mapping) Camera Subsystem. Designed for use in determining the lunar figure and

mapping of the lunar surface.

2. High Resolution Twin Convergent Panoramic Camera Subsystem. Designed for photography

of the highest resolution in keeping with coverage of large areas.

3. Ultrahigh Resolution Camera Subsystem. Designed to produce photography of extremely high

resolution and multispectral response of limited areas.

4. Multiband Synoptic Camera Subsystem. A means for obtaining large areas of multispectral

photographic coverage of the reflective properties of the lunar surface in the visible and nearvisible portion of the spectrum.

Remote Sensors

Imaging sensors will provide information about surface structure and composition from depths of

microns to a few meters. Imaging instruments, including LTV [ultraviolet] imagers, IR [infrared] imagers,

and high-resolution radars have proven value for surface and near-surface structure and composition studies and for the study of thermal anomalies. Coverage of the entire Moon with these instruments is recommended at an early date.

Nonimaging remote sensors, such as the passive microwave, radar scatterometer, IR, X-ray, gammaray, and alpha-particle emission are recommended for inclusion in lunar orbital payloads pending

the results of current remote sensor feasibility studies....

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Atmospheres, Particles, and Fields Equipment

Atmospheric and ionospheric variability surveys should be conducted. The recommended characteristics of the ion and neutral mass spectrometers are described in the Group Report. Ion traps, solar

wind detectors, and pressure gauges can be adapted from the unmanned programs.

Other experiments include the determination of the cosmic-ray albedo, the study of solar and lowerenergy galactic cosmic rays (particle telescope), and the search for water using a neutron instrument

to detect the hydrogen content of the surface.

Instruments for Subsurface Analysis

There are three orbital instruments that have the potential of obtaining valuable data from depths

of kilometers and beyond. The first of these is a magnetometer, which will yield important information on the geology of the lunar crust. Second is a gravity gradiometer yielding details of the variations in the lunar gravitational field. The third is the electromagnetic pulse probe, which has the potential

for probing to depth and differentiating the various layers present.

AES MANNED LUNAR SURFACE (AES-MLS)

The AES-MLS is essentially a continuation of the early Apollo missions characterized by longer

stay time and larger scientific payloads.

It is suggested that this program can be usefully exploited in five or six missions, extending through

1974. The scientific requirements of this series include stay times up to 14 days and traverses up to

15 km from point of landing.

The longer stay time will probably permit the collection of more material than can be returned to

Earth. Hence aids to the selection of samples in the field or prior to return should be provided by

analytical equipment that will also measure sample characteristics that may be altered by return or

packaging. Sample return is still the most significant achievement in these missions. Local mapping

should also have a high priority so that sample location is accurately tied to the local geology.

The capability to off load several LSEP's during each AES mission is also an important aspect. In

this way, a small array of stations (LSEP's) could be set into operation, giving important information

for revealing the internal properties of the Moon.

The Moon should provide a unique base for astronomers because of its useful environmental characteristics, the most important being the lack of an appreciable atmosphere. However, exhaustive studies

of the complete lunar environment are necessary before engineering design can be started.

The primary objective of analytical devices used on the lunar surface should be to extend the power

of the observer to differentiate materials that have similar characteristics. The optimum sample return

capability would be between 200 and 250 kg (450-600 lb.) per mission. The following basic types of

equipment are required for this phase of lunar exploration:

1. Automatic position recording systems. Essential for tracking and recording movements of the

astronaut, and the roving vehicle, and knowing the orientation of the camera. The system

would automatically telemeter this information back to Earth or to the LEM.

2. Local Scientific Survey Module (LSSM). This surface roving vehicle should have the capability of carrying either one or two suited astronauts and scientific payload of at least 600 lb. An

operational range of 8 km radius is a minimum, and 15 km would be more useful. Remote

control of the LSSM would also be advantageous both before and after the arrival of the

astronauts.

3. Lunar Flying Vehicle (LFV). A LFV would be useful for extending the operational range of

the AES and for studying features inaccessible to the LSSM due to topography. It should be

able to carry a 300-1b. scientific payload over a distance of 15 km. Continued study should

determine how effectively it can be employed in surface operation.

4. Lunar Drills. The development of a 1-inch drill capable of penetrating to a depth of 3 meters

in either rubble or solid rock is recommended. It should be operable from a roving vehicle.

It is necessary for lunar heat flow studies and for obtaining biological samples.

Because of the liberal weight allowance for equipment delivered to the Moon's surface most Working Groups indicated a wide variety of experiments desired for inclusion in the program. Equipment

and experiments include instrumentation for performing gravity surveys, active seismic surveys, magnetic measurements, radioactivity measurements, environmental measurements, and in general

instrumentation and supporting equipment for conducting geological-geophysical surveys on the lunar

surface.

To obtain maximum output of scientific information from these experiments, astronauts should be

given scientific training in specific rather than general areas. The greatest need is for trained geologists; however, specialized training will be required in physics, meteorology, chemistry, and in other

fields.

336
Appendix 3

POST-AES

The AES should be followed by a program including long-distance travel, up to 800 km and fixedsite investigation from 2 months to 1 year. These missions should commence about 1975 and proceed

at a rate of one per year through 1980. Additional orbital flights also appear desirable during this

period so as to conduct simultaneous orbital and surface missions.

A long-range laboratory vehicle for geological and geophysical exploration is required to permit

the collection of data to form a broad regional integrated picture of the surface geology and crustal

structure. These data will also be essential as a basis for interpretation of the imagery and measurements obtained from the remote sensing orbital vehicle and also to substantiate other investigations.

A series of traverses along the geological belt is suggested, requiring a vehicle with the following

characteristics:

1. A minimum range of 800 km.

2. Shelter for a three-person crew.

3. Mission duration capability of up to 2 months.

4. No constraints in returning to starting point.

A Lunar Base is a surface complex that will allow longer stay time, possibly up to a year, than is

presently envisioned by the AES concept. Primary needs for a base are visualized to be:

1. The measurement of presently occurring time-varying phenomena; many are geophysical in

nature.

2. The study of lunar surface processes.

3. Deep-drilling studies—most important for information on early history, crustal composition,

and surface properties of the past. The depth to be reached should probably exceed 300 meters.

4. Detailed study of a critical field area.

5. Construction and manning of large radio and optical telescopes, yet to be defined.

[A 36-page section following this summary in the original report, not reproduced here, is a detailed

listing of the requirements formulated by each disciplinary working group.]

Recommendations of the 1967 Summer Study

of Lunar Science and Exploration,

Santa Cruz, California, July 31-August 13, 1967

The Santa Cruz Summer Study was organized along the same lines as the

Falmouth Conference, with five major objectives:

1. To obtain the consensus of the scientific community as to what the future

lunar exploration program should be;

2. To prepare detailed science plans for future manned and unmanned lunar

missions;

3. To establish the order of priority of experiments to be conducted on all

missions;

4. To make recommendations on major hardware items required for the

science programs;

5. To make recommendations on the instrument development programs

required for the science program and those required to meet Supporting

Research and Technology Program needs.

The following is an excerpt from the first section of the conference report,*

"Summary and Recommendations," pp. 9-29.

*1967 Summer Study of Lunar Science and Exploration, NASA SP-157 (Washington, 1967).

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

SUMMARY AND RECOMMENDATIONS

The primary purpose of the Santa Cruz Conference was to arrive at a scientific consensus as to

what the future lunar manned and unmanned exploration program should be, particularly in the

time frame of the Apollo Applications Program (AAP). It was planned that the major results of the

conference would include (1) a recommended list of lunar missions with detailed mission plans and

priority experiment lists for each mission, (2) a priority list of major hardware items, and (3) recommendations for instrument development and for Supporting Research and Technology Programs.

The details of the findings and recommendations of the working groups are reported in later sections [not included here]. The major recommendations of the conference and the proposed lunar exploration program include (1) systems development, (2) proposed mission sequence, (3) program planning

and support, and (4) science mission plans.

SYSTEMS DEVELOPMENT

Lunar Surface Mobility

The most important recommendation of the conference relates to lunar surface mobility. To increase

the scientific return from lunar surface missions after the first few Apollo landings, the most important need is for increased operating range on the Moon. On the early Apollo missions it is expected

that an astronaut will have an operating radius on foot of approximately 500 meters. It is imperative

that this radius be increased to more than 10 km as soon as possible.

To increase surface mobility the following recommendations are made:

1. It is recommended that a Lunar Flying Unit be developed immediately to be used in AAP and, if possible,

on late Apollo flights to increase the astronaut's mobility range.

This is the first step toward attaining reasonable mobility. It is expected that the Lunar Flying Unit (LFU) will provide a mobility radius of 5 to 10 kilometers, which is a considerable

improvement over the present capability, but not nearly enough. Exploration of lunar surface

features such as large craters and their environs will require a range of approximately 25 km

or more.

2. It is recommended that the Saturn V dual-launch capability be developed as soon as possible.

3. It is recommended that the dual-mode local scientific survey module (LSSM) be developed on the same

schedule as the dual-launch Saturn V. This wheeled vehicle should be capable of operating in

an automatic or manned mode. The primary purpose of the dual-launch system is to carry

the recommended LSSM and additional fuel for the Lunar Flying Units. The automated/ manned

LSSM has a greater capability than the one now planned [i.e., the lunar roving vehicle]. The

LSSM used in conjunction with Lunar Flying Units should provide a mobility radius of approximately 25 km.

The best type of lunar surface mobility system was the subject of considerable debate during the conference. Two different philosophies of exploration on large-scale areas arose.

1. The Geochemistry Working Group strongly favored the large lunar flying vehicle. A

manned vehicle, which provides spot coverage over a wide area, would best afford the

opportunity of observation and sample collection.

2. A substantial, but divided, opinion of the Geology Working Group was that the combination of Small Lunar Flying Units with the LSSM was best for spot coverage and

for continuous ground coverage. The Geology Working Group emphasized that the

continuous ground observation was essential to solve complex geological problems in

areas of limited size. The geologists felt that experience had shown that such studies

are critical to solving much larger problems and are necessary to place geochemical and

geophysical data in their proper geological context.

At the conclusion of the meeting, a substantial majority of the working groups were in favor of

the shorter range, continuous surface traverse using a dual-mode LSSM rather than spot coverage

over a large area with a Large Flying Unit. Another reason for the choice of the LSSM is that it is

probable that the manned half of a dual launch will carry two Lunar Flying Units. Starting with this,

the total mobility system using the LSSM seemed a better choice.

A very important reason for the choice of the LSSM involved the use of an automated mode of

operation. Agreement was unanimous on the need for long unmanned traverses on the lunar surface. After the astronauts have returned to the Earth, the LSSM would be sent to a new destination.

On its journey, the LSSM would accomplish the following:

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Appendix 3

1. Stereo TV on the LSSN will permit the LSSM to be controlled from the earth. The LSSM would

collect samples along the route. Some of these samples would be aseptically handled and packaged for return to the earth by the next manned lander.

2. The LSSM would conduct a geophysical traverse of a large area using devices such as magnetometers, gravimeters, and radar probes.

3. The LSSM would deploy several small ALSEP-type Remote Geophysical Monitors (RGM) along

the traverse. In this way, a network of such units could be built. The RGM would carry instruments such as seismographs, atmospheric mass spectrometers, gravimeters, and magnetometers.

The dual-mode LSSM is more complicated and has greater capability than the vehicle presently

planned. The LSSM should have the following characteristics and capabilities:

1. articulation;

2. the ability to pick up rocks;

3. stereo TV with the Apollo bandwidth and a fast shutter;

4. rock analysis (nondestructive) with a storage capacity of 50 pounds;

5. a headlight (night and shadow operation)

6. samples, stowage of approximately 100, maximum weight of 1 kg per sample with

some aseptically sealed;

7. the capability to carry and deploy 6 RGMs, each weighing 50 pounds and equipped

with instruments such as a gravimeter, a radar probe, and a magnetometer;

8. dead-reckoning navigation with altitude and horizontal ties to known controls;

9. capability for carrying two persons with optional steering modes and capability for

carrying i or 2 LFUs;

10. relay communications; and

11. the ability to carry a backup portable life support system (PLSS) or an independent

life support system.

Block II Surveyor

Other systems working with the automated LSSM are probably needed to develop the geophysical

network of Remote Geophysical Monitors on the Moon. This network requires about 10 automated

stations distributed over the front face of the Moon with spacings on the order of 1,000 km or more.

This system is required to obtain large-scale information about the interior of the Moon.

It is recommended that a Block II Surveyor, or another system, be available in the period from 1970 to 1975,

which is capable of deploying experiments such as the following:

1. a passive seismic/tidal gravimeter/tiltmeter (three components);

2. a corner reflector;

3. a gravimeter (geodetic);

4. a mass spectrometer;

5. a total-pressure gauge;

6. a doppler transponder;

7. a facsimile camera;

8. a magnetometer;

9. a plasma probe;

10. low-energy particles;

11. electric field; and

12. a gamma-ray experiment or alpha-counter experiment.

The Block II Surveyor will afford wide geographic coverage for instruments. Special care must be

taken in deployment of experiments (magnetometer, gamma-ray, etc.) so that they are deployed in

an appropriate environment.

Sample Return Capability

One important, if not the most important, scientific result from the AAP missions will be the return

of lunar samples. The amount returned must increase as the capabilities of the vehicles allow.

It is recommended that the total returned payload from the Moon in AAP missions increase to 400 lb. so that

a minimum of 250 lb. of lunar samples can be returned.

A consensus of the conference was that a capability to return approximately 50 lb. of refrigerated samples was

needed as soon as possible.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Modular ALSEP

It was clearly recognized at the conference that Apollo lunar surface experiments packages or their

derivatives such as Emplaced Scientific Stations or Remote Geophysical Monitors would be used on

essentially all AAP landing missions. A number of new experiments under development require the

ESS or RGM capability, and many of the current experiments should be used on the lunar surface

in networks. The capability should be established to include new experiments on an ALSEP prior

to a mission.

It is recommended that future ALSEP stations be designed to allow a substantial degree of flexibility to react

to new opportunities opened up by new developments or discoveries on the Moon. A modular concept to permit

accommodation of new instruments with minimum disturbance of the basic ALSEP system would greatly facilitate such flexibility.

It is expected that the number of candidate experiments for a particular ALSEP mission will exceed

the number that can be accommodated on that mission. Flight assignments for the mission should

be made as close to the flight time as is practical to reflect the state of knowledge at that time. The

experiments would, therefore, be built to meet a standard ALSEP electrical interface and a suitably

small choice of mechanical interfaces. This requires that the ALSEP central station have an appropriate number of standard electrical plug-in stations and a central data processor that assigns experiment data rates under the control of a stored program. The processor control program could be stored

prior to flight or, preferably, on command from Earth. Remote reprogramming is particularly desirable as it permits the real-time assignment of experiment data rates in response to acquired data.

Telemetry Capability

When several scientific packages are operating on or near the Moon for long periods of time, the

capability to handle the increased data return will become a problem. The data return capability is

presently a problem in some unmanned programs.

It is strongly recommended that appropriate provision be made to insure continuous telemetry coverage of all

scientific packages, both single and simultaneous operations, on and around the Moon. Provision must also be

made to recover data continuously from the averted face of the Moon.

Orbital Subsatellites

Subsatellites could be injected from the AAP command and service module (CSM) vehicles into

precision orbits to study the lunar environment, including magnetic fields and particle environment

and the atmosphere and ionosphere.

It is recommended that a subsatellite system he developed for deploying systems of instruments in close orbit

around the Moon.

PROPOSED AAP MISSION SEQUENCE

To understand how the mobility systems fit into the program of flights and why they have been

chosen, the proposed program of lunar landing missions should be examined. The program is not

in final form and will not be for some time, at least until further mission studies have been made.

The program of missions consists of three distinct mission types: (1) manned orbital flights; (2) singlelaunch Saturn V lunar landing flights; and (3) dual-launched Saturn V lunar landing flights. The proposed program is outlined in Table 1 and Figure 1 [not reproduced here].

340
Appendix 3

Table 1. Proposed AAP Mission Sequence

Mission Mission location Schedule,'

(Yr.)

Launch mode

1 Manned orbiter 1st —

2 Copernicus (central peaks) 1st Single

3 Davy Rille 2nd Single

4 Copernicus (walls) 2nd Single

5 Marius Hills 3rd Dual

LSSM to the Cobra-Head

6 Cobra-Head 3rd or 4th Dual

LSSM to Hadley Rille

7 Manned orbiter 3rd or 4th —

S Alphonsus 5th Dual

LSSM to Sabine

and Ritter

9 Sabine and Ritter (or 5th Single

end of Alphonsus

LSSM mission)

North Pole or South Poleb — —

n Tychob — —

^t Mare Orientale b — —

Hadley Rilleb

'Mission will occur within the program year(s) indicated.

bTimes, launch modes, and sequence are not established; further study is required.

Manned Orbiter

The first recommended AAP flight is a manned lunar orbital flight with these objectives.

1. AAP landing sites mapping photography (return of film necessary;

2. metric-mapping quality photography with returned film;

3. geochemical remote-sensing using gamma-rays and x-rays on a subsatellite left in lunar orbit

or using a directional detector system on the CSM; and

4. flying a family of remote sensors such as passive microwave radiometer, infrared radiometer,

radar reflectivity, radio noise survey, magnetometer and plasma probe, multicolor photometry, meteoroid detector, radio radiometer, and fluorescence photometer.

Objective 4 has a somewhat lower priority than the first three.

The only way to obtain adequate data for cartographic purposes is to have the film returned to

Earth for analysis. The photography from this flight should provide maps of the Moon in the IR region

and (by analyzing the gamma-rays) lunar contour maps of the concentration of potassium and uranium and possibly of other elements. Such data will be valuable in future mission planning.

The first orbiter flight should be followed by a second flight within a time frame so that new remote

sensing instruments would be perfected (1) to increase the ability to map the Moon remotely in various electromagnetic frequencies and (2) to obtain greater information on the distribution of the elements.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Single-Launch Mode

The first AAP lunar landers will probably be single launches. Missions 2, 3, and 4 represent the

proposed early single-launch landers. Because the crater Copernicus is such a large feature and because

information about Copernicus is essential to the understanding of the Moon, two separate missions

are proposed: one to the central peaks and one to the crater wall. A proposed science mission plan

for the central peaks is presented later in this section.

The durations of this class of missions are flexible. It is desired that the single-launch missions be

started as soon as possible; however, a series of useful single launches could be continued for a number of missions. Suggested additional sites for the subsequent single missions are Copernicus H, Gambart, Mosting C, Hyginus Rille, Flamsteed, Dionysius, Hipparchus, the dome near Lunar Orbiter

Photographic Site II-P-2, and the Surveyor landing and the Ranger impact sites. The Lunar Flying

Unit would be used for mobility on these missions.

Dr. George E. Mueller suggested that the conferees consider what scientific program should be

carried out on Apollo flights after the first two or three successful lunar landings. The following ground

rules were assumed:

1. Some system constraints will have been removed so that more payload is available on the Apollo

CSM.

2. The lunar module (LM) will be able to land at rather rough sites but still in or near the Apollo

landing zone of t 10' latitude.

3. No substantial hardware changes will be made in the CSM or the LM.

It was decided that all of the suggested single-launch AAP landing sites would be appropriate for

late Apollo, except Copernicus, which requires more mobility. The most appealing sites were Copernicus H, Gambart, Mosting C, and the dome near site II-P-2. The lunar module might land close

enough to these sites to allow access to the interesting areas. There was a strong feeling that there

should be at least one highland landing site.

Additional mobility should be brought into the program as rapidly as possible. The LFU should

be used even if it has only a 1- or 2-km range, which will significantly enhance the scientific return.

If the LFU is not ready, the schedule for the Apollo lunar program should be adjusted, after the first

few successful landers, to allow the LFU to be brought into these late Apollo missions.

Dual-Launch Mode

The future lunar exploration program must involve mobility systems that require two Saturn V

launches. The dual-mode LSSM and a large amount of additional fuel for the Lunar Flying Units

will be carried to the lunar surface in an unmanned lander. The manned Saturn V will land nearby

later. The present LSSM cannot be carried to the Moon in a manned single-launch system.

A major feature of the dual-launch system is that the unmanned LSSM would make a long traverse

(approximately 1,000 km) and arrive at the site of the next manned landing with a collection of surface samples from an extensive region of the Moon. These would be returned to Earth by the next

manned lander. The suggested sequence of missions with automated LSSM traverses is shown in

Table 1. This technique allows a much larger fraction of the lunar surface to be sampled than could

possibly be visited by humans during all of the proposed manned AAP missions (Fig. 1).

PROGRAM PLANNING AND SUPPORT

Fallback Position

If the AAP lunar program level should drop below one dual-launch or two single-launch missions

per year, then the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning (GLEP) should meet again to reconsider

mission plans. The program at this low level might need significant red rection. For example, in the i

case of severe budgetary restrictions or other problems that would prevent developing the Saturn

V dual-launch capability, an automated system, such as Rover launched by a system less complicated than a Saturn V, might need to be developed.

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Appendix 3

Solicitation for Experiments

The selection of experiments from the scientific community was a major consideration at the Conference.

To develop a strong science program in AAP, it is strongly recommended that any extension of the Apollo science

program (that is, new Apollo hardware, follow-on ALSEP, or AAP), be implemented by open solicitation of

experiments from the scientific community. Only in this way can the Manned Space Flight Program build the

broad base of scientific support and participation necessary for an active and productive research program.

It is recognized that the time scales involved may pose problems in certain disciplines in implementing

the above recommendation. However, there are experiments that could be delivered on a relatively

short time scale and thus allow the possibility of a wider NASA scientific program.

Support of Basic Research

The NASA support of basic research programs has been a benefit to the space program and also

to universities and other research institutions. This support should not be confined to flight programs

but should be continued in all areas of basic science that contribute to the overall NASA objectives

of space exploration.

Support of Instrument Development

Many scientific experiments appear very promising for lunar exploration but are not feasible now

because (1) detector systems have not been developed to the point of having the desired sensitivity,

or (2) theoretical problems have not been fully investigated to insure proper design of the experiment

or full interpretation of the results.

Three stages in the development of an experiment and the necessary hardware can be visualized.

These are (1) detailed consideration of the importance and feasibility of an experiment, (2) development of necessary scientific tools to implement the experiment, and (3) production of flight hardware.

To carry out the first two stages of producing an experiment listed previously, it is recommended that a strong

program in scientific instrument definition and development and a substantial lunar supporting research and

technology program be undertaken immediately. The amount of money being invested to produce experiments

for AAP flights in the present budget is not compatible with the scope of the program. It is further recommended

that adequate time be included in program planning and launch schedules to allow for the scientific development

of the appropriate experiments.

Establishment of Project Scientist

It is now apparent that there is a need for more continuous scientific input into the development

of scientific flight hardware for lunar missions.

It is strongly recommended that a position of Project Scientist be established within the structure of the Manned

Space Flight Program. The responsibilities of the project scientist are to represent the scientific requirements

and objectives of the experiment to the project manager and staff and conversely to represent to the Principal

Investigator project requirements that may affect the experiment. At least one project scientist should be associated

with every MSC project that includes scientific experiments; more than one project scientist may be desirable

for a large project in which the number of scientific disciplines is large. Furthermore, it is strongly recommended

that project scientists be participating experimenters in the projects for which they are responsible. The position

of the project scientist within the organizational structure should be at a level that insures adequate science input

into the program.

Astronaut Selection and Training

After basic classroom work and tutorials, the astronaut should be provided the time and opportunity to participate directly in the research and planning activities of the particular missions for which

he is selected. This may require one or more thorough refresher tutorial covering the specific topics

of prime scientific importance for the mission. In crew selection for any mission, flight-operations

ability is, without question, the primary criterion.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

It is strongly recommended that ability in field geology be the next most important factor in the selection of

the crew members who will actually land on the Moon for the Apollo missions. For some of the complicated

scientific missions in the later part of the AAP, the Santa Cruz Conference considers that the knowledge and

experience of an astronaut who is also a professional field geologist is essential. In the interest of maintaining

career proficiency, astronauts should be provided time to engage in some form of research activity within their

professional fields.

SCIENCE MISSION PLANS

As previously stated, the science mission plans in this report are not in final form. Engineering

studies must be made and appropriate modifications and plans developed.

It is recommended that an immediate and intensive program of detailed mission analyses be undertaken for all

of the prime lunar landing sites and traverses that have been listed by this Conference.

Because of the rapid development of suitable launch capability and the growth of an extensive body

of photogeologic maps of the lunar surfce and because of the lead-times required for development

of selected systems, the working groups felt that such analyses are urgent. The analyses must be

planned on an iterative basis to test the applicability of the recommended plans and of instrument

development for the achievement of the general scientific objectives for lunar exploration.

(The "Summary and Recommendations" continues with detailed (though tentative) plans for three

AAP missions—to Copernicus, the "Cobra Head" (Aristarchus region) , and Alphonsus—including

landing sites, mission timelines, and surface activities. The balance of the report consists of the

individual reports of eight working groups: Geology, Geophysics, Geochemistry, Bioscience, Geodesy

and Cartography, Lunar Atmospheres, Particles and Fields, and Astronomy.]

Lunar Science Objectives:

The Rationale for Apollo Landing Site Selection

Following is a summary of material presented to the Apollo Site Selection Board

at its meeting on July 10, 1969, intended to show how the Site Selection Subgroup of the Group for Lunar Exploration Planning arrived at their recommended

list of primary and alternate sites (presented at the June meeting of the Board).

It relates scientific experiments to the "15 Questions" tabulated above.

Age Dating. Determination of the absolute age of lunar surface materials by

radioactive-decay methods was of prime importance. The method dates the time

at which a given sample became a closed system for a particular element; for example, the potassium-40-argon-40 method determines the time at which a rock containing radioactive potassium-40 cooled sufficiently to retain the gaseous argon-40

decay product. The age thus determined may reflect a period of volcanism, melting by meteoric impact, or original accretion of lunar material.

Ages of primary interest to lunar scientists were:

(1) the age of the moon's formation or of its oldest crust; this age might make

it possible to distinguish among various theories of lunar origin. One key

site for locating such material was the Fra Mauro Formation. This widespread blanket of debris is considered to consist of debris from the

"Imbrian event," the cataclysmic occurrence that produced Mare Imbrium,

the enormous circular mare in the northwestern quadrant of the Earth344
Appendix 3

facing side of the moon. The Fra Mauro Formation was given high priority on all lists of potential landing sites.

(2) The time at which the mania became filled with the relatively smooth material, probably once-molten rock, that characterizes them. This date would

be relatively easy to establish, since mission planners preferred smooth,

level landing sites, most often found in the maria.

(3) The time of significant post-mare events, such as the impacts that created

the craters Copernicus and Tycho. Equally interesting was the origin of

the sinuous rilles, which appeared to have been formed largely in this

later period of lunar history.

Lunar Composition. A primary interest of geochemists was to find "primitive" solar

system material to deduce the conditions under which planets and satellites condensed from the solar nebula. Data from analysis of terrestrial and meteoritic samples, along with solar and stellar spectral studies and theoretical physics,

comprised the prime source of such information, but both the earth and meteorites

have been modified by subsequent heating and weathering, which have obscured

the original composition. The moon's small size (possibly resulting in a smaller

flow of heat from the interior) and its lack of an atmosphere suggest that it might

still have original material on the surface. It was generally accepted that this material could most likely be found in the lunar highlands, which appeared to represent the oldest lunar material.

Second in importance was establishing the bulk composition of the moon. The

abundance of the major elements was expected to be important in establishing

the moon's origin; if it proved to be totally unlike the earth in composition it could

hardly have split off from the earth. The abundance of radioactive elements would

indicate how much energy had been available for heat-induced chemical changes

in the moon since its formation. To determine the bulk composition of the moon

it was necessary to sample as many different geologic units as possible. Particularly important were sites showing evidence of differentiation or the presence

on the surface of deep-seated material, such as would be present in and around

impact excavations or explosive craters and in blankets of material ejected from

craters. Radioactivity could be measured by instruments in lunar orbit, hence the

importance of flying experiments in the service module.

Finally, analysis of any present or past lunar atmosphere would give clues to

lunar origin and evolution. Gas detectors operating over a long period of time

might possibly detect transient events, such as had been reported in the crater

Aristarchus. The sinuous rilles (e.g., Rima Prinz) were also likely sites for detecting any emission of gases from the lunar interior.

Major Geomorphic Processes. The study of the processes by which lunar landforms

have been created and destroyed was important mainly to second- and third-order

questions about the moon, but was essential in holding the first-order questions

(above) together. Knowledge of dominant processes would provide the basis for

selection of samples and determining their place of origin, as well as providing

major clues to past energy expenditure on the moon. Regions of particular interest

in this regard were the sinuous rilles and areas of volcanic cratering. Since photography covered a large fraction of the lunar surface, data from a few landing

sites would enable geomorphologists to draw conclusions about most of the moon.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Lunar Geophysics. The only source of information on the moon's internal structure was the emplaced ALSEP experiments, which included a seismometer and

a heat flow instrument. (Later ALSEPs would include different geophysical

instruments.)

Seismic data were expected to yield information on layering in the moon, the

rate of release of internal strain, and the number and energy of meteorite impacts.

It would be very useful to the seismologists to produce an impact of known energy

at a known location, such as by causing a spent S-IVB stage or a lunar module

ascent stage to crash on the lunar surface. It was important to have at least four

seismic instruments active at one time; they should be about 1,000 km apart with

as much angular separation as possible. Thus sites at high latitudes, such as Tycho,

were quite important.

Data on heat flow were difficult to interpret but could assist in determining

whether the moon had originally been hot or cold.

Lunar gravity and geodesy would determine the extent of the ' `mascons" (mass

concentrations) and whether the moon was in hydrostatic equilibrium. These were

well suited to study by orbiting instruments.

The laser retroreflectors were expected to make it possible to determine earthmoon distances within a few centimeters, enabling scientists to measure the librations of the moon with previously unattainable accuracy. Best results would be

obtained with widely separated reflectors.

Characteristics of the Recommended Landing Sites. The short list of landing sites for

the first 10 lunar exploration missions should include:

(1) two types of mare material, "older" or eastern and "younger" or western;

(2) regional stratigraphic units, such as blanket (ejecta) deposits around mare

basins;

(3) various types and sizes of impact craters in the maria and in the highlands;

(4) morphological manifestations of volcanism in the maria and in the highlands; and

(5) areas that may give clues to the nature and extent of processes other than

impact and volcanism, which may have acted on the lunar surface.

Following is a description of the 10 prime sites chosen by the Group for Lunar

Exploration Planning. The sites were selected in order of their preferred execution on one "G, four "H," and five "J" missions.

(1) Landing Site 2 ("older" or eastern mare). This site is entirely within

relatively old mare (Imbrian) material. It includes many large subdued

craters 200 to 600 meters in diameter but comparatively few in the size

range 50-200 meters, a distribution common to many apparently old

surfaces. Determination of the age and nature of this Imbrian mare material was a primary object of landing at this site.

(2) Landing Site 5 ("younger" or western mare) is located within relatively

young (Eratosthenian) mare material and displays many craters 50 to 200

meters in diameter and relatively fewer of the larger (200-600 meter)

craters. It is surrounded by well developed rays from Kepler, making

it likely that it contains material derived from considerable depth. The

chief goal of a landing at Site 5 was to determine the age and composition of Eratosthenian mare material.

346
Appendix 3

(3) Fra Mauro Formation. This extensive geologic unit covers large portions

of the surface around Mare Imbrium and is thought to be material ejected

when Imbrium was formed. Samples from the Fra Mauro Formation

would help to understand its nature, composition, and formation and

its relation to the "Imbrian event."

(4) Rima Bode II, a single linear rille running close to a fresh, elongate crater and a crater chain, was of interest because both the rille and the crater were possible sources of several dark geologic units most probably

of volcanic origin. The site was selected as an example of a region where

material of deep-seated origin was expected. An alternative site was Hyginus Rille, similar in characteristics but apparently less fresh. Another site,

Littrow, would meet part of the objectives of a mission to Rima Bode II.

(5) Censorinus is a 3.8-km crater located within and near the edge of a highland block south-southeast of Mare Trangillitatis. It offered the opportunity, early in the exploration program, to sample both highland material

and features associated with a fresh impact crater. The proposed site was

within the ejecta blanket about 1 km north of the crater rim and allowed

investigation of the crater on foot, without mobility aids. If Censorinus

presented operational difficulties, Littrow could be considered as an alternative site for this mission.

(6) Copernicus (peak). This bright crater, 95 km in diameter, is the source

of visible rays of ejected material extending for several hundred kilometers. Its walls expose a 4-km vertical section of the lunar crust. The

floor, some 60 km across, contains multiple peaks with a maximum height

of 800 meters. A mission to the central peaks would be mainly a sampling mission with the objective of bringing back material that once lay

at considerable depth.

(7) Marius Hills, a group of domes and cones near the center of Oceanus

Procellarum west-northwest of the crater Marius, are part of a ridge system stretching some 1,900 km through Oceanus Procellarum. The variety of features in this area and their similarity to terrestrial volcanic

structures strongly suggests intensive and prolonged volcanic activity.

(8) Tycho (rim), like Censorinus a fresh impact crater, is in the southern highlands. It is much larger than Censorinus and offers an opportunity to

study many features common to large, fresh impact events, including

associated volcanism. The proposed landing site was near the Surveyor

VII spacecraft, offering the option of returning some Surveyor parts. In

that area are several generations of flows, a pond or pool, ejected blocks

(probably from Tycho), and other ejecta features and structures.

(9) Rima Prinz I, in the Harbinger Mountains northeast of the Marius Hills, is

a double sinuous rille—a small meandering rille enclosed within a larger

sinuous rille. The origin of the rilles is of great interest because they

resemble channels carved by a flowing fluid. A landing near the mouth of

Rima Prinz I, selected because of the freshness of its details, would allow

examination of the lower part of the eroded valley, sampling the materials

and studying the exposed structures. An alternative, Schr6ter's Valley,

displays similar characteristics but appears older than Rima Prinz I.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

(10) Descartes. The area of the southern highlands north of the crater Descartes and west of Mare Nectaris is characterized by hilly, groovy, and

furrowed deposits reminiscent of terrestrial volcanoes. A mission to a

region of intensive and prolonged volcanism within the lunar terrae was

considered most important, from both the geological and geochemical

viewpoints. An alternative to this site was Abulfeda, just to the

southwest.

The Group for Lunar Exploration Planning recommended this list of sites after

considering the expected evolution in capability as well as the constraints imposed

by operations. Those selected for "J" missions, for example, were picked on

account of the additional time on the surface that would be available and the

increased mobility that would be provided by a powered vehicle. Tycho, accessible only in the early part of the year because of operational limitations, was

switched from the third to the second "J" mission for that reason, although it

was better than the Marius Hills site for exploration on foot.

The Apollo Site Selection Board accepted this list for planning purposes at its

meeting on July 10, 1969. As was to be expected, the list underwent considerable

revision during the next three years, both as to the choice of sites and the order

in which they would be explored, as mission planning became more detailed and

operational capability improved.

348
APPENDIX 4

CHRONOLOGY OF MAJOR EVENTS

IN MANNED SPACE FLIGHT

AND IN PROJECT APOLLO, 1957-1975

1957

October: The Soviet Union placed the first artificial earth satellite (Sputnik)

into orbit.

1958

April: The Air Force contracted with the Yerkes Observatory, University

of Chicago, to produce a new lunar photographic atlas.

The Air Force published a development plan for its manned space program,

which included two exploratory man-in-space projects, a lunar reconnaissance mission and a manned lunar landing and return; the plan envisioned

completion of the program in seven years at a cost of $1.5 billion.

June: The Air Force contracted with Rocketdyne to design a singlechamber rocket engine burning kerosene and liquid oxygen and producing

1 to 1.5 million pounds of thrust.

July: President Eisenhower signed the National Aeronautics and Space

Act of 1958 (P.L. 85-568) establishing the National Aeronautics and Space

Administration.

October: The Special Committee on Space Technology, created in January

1958 and chaired by H. Guyford Stever of MIT, reported its recommendations: development of both clustered- and single-engine boosters of millionpound thrust; vigorous attack on the problems of sustaining man in the space

environment; development of lifting reentry vehicles; research on high-energy

propellant systems for launch vehicle upper stages; and evaluation of existing boosters and upper stages followed by intensive development of those

promising greatest utility.

November: A Space Task Group (STG) was organized at Langley Research Center to implement NASA's first manned satellite project (Mercury). Robert

R. Gilruth was named project manager.

1959

January: In a report of the staff of the House Select Committee on Astronautics and Space Exploration entitled "The Next Ten Years in Space,

1959-1969," Wernher von Braun of the Army Ballistic Missile Agency

predicted a manned flight around the moon within 8 to 10 years and a manned

349
Where No Man Has Gone Before

lunar landing and return a few years later. NASA and industry officials envisioned similar progress.

March: The first F-1 engine was successfully test-fired by Rocketdyne,

producing more than one million pounds of thrust.

April: NASA announced the selection of seven pilots for the Mercury

program.

NASA created a Research Steering Committee on Manned Space Flight.

Over the next several months this committee examined long-term humanin-space problems to recommend future missions and coordination of research

programs at the NASA centers. At its May 25-26 meeting the committee

recommended the manned lunar landing as a focal point for studies in propulsion, vehicle configuration, structure, and guidance requirements, since a

lunar landing would constitute an end objective that did not have to be justified in terms of its contribution to a more useful goal.

November: STG appointed a panel to study preliminary design of a multiperson spacecraft for a circumlunar mission, conduct mission analyses, and plan

a test program.

1960

January: NASA presented its ten-year plan to Congress, calling for a program leading to manned circumlunar flight and a permanent earth-orbiting

space station to start in 1965-1967 and a manned lunar landing some time

beyond 1970. Cost estimates for the plan ran to $1.5 billion annually for five

years.

February: NASA approved Project Ranger, a project to send an unmanned,

hard-landing spacecraft to the moon to relay television pictures of the lunar

surface to earth during the final stages of its flight.

March: The Army Ballistic Missile Agency's Development Operations Division at Redstone Arsenal, Huntsville, Alabama, headed by Wernher von

Braun, was transferred to NASA as the George C. Marshall Space Flight

Center.

April-May: STG developed guidelines for the advanced manned spacecraft program, including detailed propulsion and spacecraft requirements.

May: A meeting on space rendezvous was held at Langley Research Center to discuss the problems of bringing two spacecraft together in space.

NASA began work on a project (later named Surveyor) to send a soft-landing

spacecraft to the moon to provide scientific and engineering data on the lunar

surface.

July: The House Committee on Science and Astronautics urged NASA

to intensify its efforts to send humans to the moon and back "in this decade."

In the committee's view, NASA's ten-year plan did not go far enough and

the space agency was not pressing forward with enough energy.

July: The name "Apollo" was approved for the advanced manned space

flight program.

NASA held its first NASA-Industry Program Plans Conference in Washington to brief industrial management on the overall space program. George

350
Appendix 4

M. Low, chief of NASA's Manned Space Flight program, stated that circumlunar flight and earth-orbiting missions would be carried out before 1970,

leading eventually to a manned lunar landing and a permanent space station in earth orbit.

September: NASA issued a formal request for proposals for six-month feasibility studies for advanced manned spacecraft, to define a system fulfilling STG

guidelines, formulate a plan for implementing the program, identify areas

requiring long lead-time research and development, and estimate the total

cost of the program. In October proposals were received from 14 companies,

and in November contracts were awarded to Convair/Astronautics Division

of General Dynamics Corp., General Electric Company, and The Martin

Company.

November: A program of detailed studies of lunar geology was undertaken by

the U.S. Geological Survey, funded by NASA.

STG proposed to organize a number of Technical Liaison Groups to coordinate the activities of NASA centers in research for Apollo.

1961

January: A meeting of the Space Exploration Program Council discussed the

manned lunar landing project, with emphasis on three methods of conducting the mission: direct ascent, rendezvous of spacecraft in earth orbit, and

rendezvous in lunar orbit. It was decided that all three methods should be

explored thoroughly. The Council established a committee headed by George

M. Low to define the elements of the project insofar as possible.

February: The Instrumentation Laboratory at the Massachusetts Institute of

Technology was selected to conduct a six-month study of a navigation and

guidance system for the Apollo spacecraft.

March: The Space Science Board of the National Academy of Sciences

recommended that "scientific exploration of the moon and planets should

be clearly stated as the ultimate objective of the U.S. space program for the

forseeable future."

April: The USSR launched a five-ton spacecraft (Vostok 1) carrying Major

Yuri A. Gagarin on a one-orbit, 108-minute flight.

May: STG proposed a new NASA development center to manage the

development of manned spacecraft and projects.

The United States launched its first human into space, Lt. Cmdr. Alan B.

Shepard, Jr., who rode a Mercury spacecraft (Freedom 7) on a parabolic flight

path 116.5 miles high and landed 320 miles down range.

Final reports of the six-month feasibility studies for advanced manned

spacecraft were submitted to STG by the three contractors.

President John F. Kennedy addressed Congress on "urgent national

needs," which included new long-range goals for the American space program. Kennedy expressed his belief that the nation should adopt the goal,

"before this decade is out, of landing a man on the moon and returning him

safely to the earth." He requested additional appropriations of $611 million

for NASA and DoD for fiscal 1962.

351
Where No Man Has Gone Before

NASA appointed a committee (Lundin committee) to study all possible

approaches for accomplishing a manned lunar landing in the period 1967-1970

and to make rough estimates of costs and schedules.

July: Twelve companies were invited to submit proposals for the Apollo

spacecraft. A detailed statement of work, based on contractor and NASA

design studies, was provided for a three-phase program terminating in a lunar

landing.

NASA and DoD created a Large Launch Vehicle Planning Group to study

development of large launch vehicles for the national space program.

August: NASA selected the Instrumentation Laboratory of MIT to develop

the guidance and navigation system for the Apollo Spacecraft.

September: After a study of several locations around the country, NASA selected

a site near Houston, Texas, for its new development center for manned spacecraft. The center would design, develop, and test new manned spacecraft,

train astronauts, and operate the control center for manned space missions.

In October the Space Task Group, still based at Langley, was formally redesignated as the Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC); personnel would move to

Houston starting in 1962.

October: John C. Houbolt and others at Langley Research Center presented

to the Large Launch Vehicle Planning Group a study on the use of lunarorbit rendezvous in a manned lunar landing.

November: After evaluation of proposals from five companies, NASA selected

the Space and Information Division of North American Aviation, Inc.,

Downey, California, to design and build the Apollo spacecraft.

December: MSC announced a new manned program using a two-man version of

the Mercury spacecraft, which would test techniques of rendezvous in earth

orbit.

1962

February: The first American to orbit the earth, Lt. Col. John H. Glenn, Jr.,

USMC, completed three orbits in a Mercury spacecraft and returned safely

to earth.

February-June: Several groups within NASA were intensively studying the various modes of going to the moon (direct ascent, rendezvous in earth orbit,

rendezvous in lunar orbit). The third method required a separate spacecraft

to detach itself, land on the moon, and return to lunar orbit to rendezvous

with the Apollo spacecraft.

March: At the request of the Office of Manned Space Flight, American Telephone & Telegraph established a group called Bellcomm, Inc., to provide

independent analysis of systems and problems in the manned space flight

program. For the duration of Apollo, Bellcomm performed many services,

including advice on selection of landing sites, for OMSF.

July: NASA Headquarters announced that the lunar-orbit rendezvous

mode had been selected for the manned lunar landing project and that

requests for proposals would be issued for the second spacecraft (the "lunar

excursion module"). MSC invited 11 firms to submit proposals for the lunar

352
Appendix 4

excursion module. Nine companies responded; in November NASA selected

the Grumman Aircraft Engineering Company to build the module.

August: A summer study conducted by the Space Science Board at the State

University of Iowa examined the state of NASA's space research program

and made recommendations concerning future efforts. Many scientists

expressed objections to Apollo (which was not specifically on their agenda),

but the study cautiously endorsed the program's scientific goals.

September: A second group of nine test-pilot astronauts was selected for the

manned space flight program.

November: MSC released sketches of the space suit assembly and portable lifesupport system to be used on the lunar surface.

December: A contract was awarded for construction of a Vertical Assembly

Building at NASA's Merritt Island Launch Area, Kennedy Space Center. The

$100-million structure would provide space for assembling four Saturn V

launch vehicles simultaneously.

1963

February: The President's budget request for fiscal 1964 included $5.712 billion for NASA. $1.207 billion was for Apollo—almost a threefold increase

over the previous year.

April: Preliminary plans for Apollo scientific instruments were completed.

Emphasis was placed on experiments that promised maximum return for the

least weight and complexity and were man-oriented and compatible with

weight and volume available in the spacecraft. Experiments would be selected

after evaluation of proposals from outside scientists.

May: The Mercury project ended with the 34-hour, 22-orbit flight of

astronaut L. Gordon Cooper, Jr., in the spacecraft Faith 7.

August: NASA Headquarters approved the Lunar Orbiter project, which

would use unmanned spacecraft to take detailed photographs of the lunar

surface to be used in selecting landing sites for Apollo.

September: Dr. George E. Mueller became Associate Administrator for Manned

Space Flight, replacing D. Brainerd Holmes.

October: Headquarters sent MSC some general guidelines for scientific investigations of the moon. Principal scientific activity was expected to include

comprehensive observation of lunar phenomena, collection of geologic samples, and emplacement of monitoring equipment.

October: Fourteen more test pilots were selected as astronauts.

November: A Manned Space Science Division was established in the Office of

Space Science and Applications (OSSA) , NASA Headquarters, to coordinate

the efforts of OSSA and the Office of Manned Space Flight in developing

scientific experiments for Apollo.

MSC's Space Environment Division recommended 10 specific areas on the

moon for evaluation as landing sites for Apollo. These sites and others would

be photographed by Lunar Orbiter, after which some would be selected as

targets for Surveyor, a project to land unmanned spacecraft on the moon

and study the surface.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

President Lyndon B. Johnson announced that NASA's Launch Operations

Center at Cape Canaveral (Atlantic Missile Range) would be designated the

John F. Kennedy Space Center.

December: An ad hoc group working on Apollo experiments recommended the

principal scientific objectives of the program: examination of the surface

around the landed spacecraft, geological mapping, investigation of the moon's

interior (with instruments), studies of the lunar atmosphere, and radio

astronomy from the surface.

1964

March: NASA's Office of Space Science and Applications (OSSA) began

organizing groups of scientists to assist in more specific definition of the scientific objectives of Apollo. Outside scientists were called upon to propose

experiments in geology, geophysics, geochemistry, biology, and atmospheric

science.

April: NASA enlisted the aid of the National Academy of Sciences in

preparing a plan to recruit scientists for training as astronauts.

May: The first flight of an unmanned Apollo spacecraft was launched from

Kennedy Space Center, demonstrating the compatibility of the spacecraft and

the launch vehicle.

July: OSSA announced opportunities for scientists to fly experiments on

manned space missions, including the lunar landing missions. The earliest

Apollo flights expected to support scientific instruments were the fourth and

fifth.

Ranger VII returned the first close-up television pictures of the lunar surface, showing details as small as 1 meter across.

August: MSC proposed to build a special lunar sample receiving laboratory

in which lunar samples, protected from contamination, would be received,

examined, and issued to qualified outside experimenters. The proposal set

off several months of discussion between MSC, Headquarters, and the Space

Science Board concerning the requirements for such a laboratory and its best

location.

1965

March: First manned flight of a Gemini spacecraft, a three-orbit flight to

test spacecraft systems.

May: The Space Science Board recommended that samples and astronauts

returning from the moon be quarantined until it could be ascertained that

they had brought back no life forms that might contaminate the earth.

The NASA Administrator and the Surgeon General agreed to form an Interagency Committee on Back Contamination to define requirements for biological isolation and testing of material returned from the moon and to advise

on the construction and operation of a quarantine facility for samples and

astronauts.

354
Appendix 4

June: Six scientists were selected for training as NASA astronauts. Two

were qualified pilots; the other four were sent to Air Force flight training

school before beginning astronaut training.

July: OMSF established an Apollo Site Selection Board to work with

OSSA, MSC, and Bellcomm in choosing the sites where Apollo missions

would land on the moon.

The Space Science Board convened a Summer Study at Woods Hole, Mass.,

to recommend directions for future space research. The agenda included

manned exploration of the moon and planets. Conferees drew up a list of

15 questions that should determine the course of lunar research. Following

the Woods Hole sessions, another group met at Falmouth, Mass., to formulate specific recommendations for the Apollo and related unmanned projects.

August: Three firms were awarded six-month contracts to design prototypes

of an Apollo lunar surface experiments package, which would be left on the

moon and would return data by telemetry over a period of time.

September: Meeting with MSC scientists, Public Health Service physicians

insisted on rigorous quarantine of astronauts and lunar samples following

each lunar mission.

December: Two Gemini spacecraft performed the first space rendezvous,

maneuvering to a separation distance of one foot with no difficulty.

1966

February: OSSA selected the experiment complement for the Apollo lunar surface experiments package (ALSEP).

The first Apollo spacecraft, a test version of the command and service module, was launched from Cape Canaveral on a two-stage Saturn I-B rocket.

March: The Gemini VIII spacecraft performed a rendezvous with an

unmanned target vehicle, then docked with it—the first accomplishment of

this critical procedure. The mission was aborted soon afterwards when a small

thruster malfunctioned.

NASA Hedquarters selected the Bendix Corporation to build the lunar surface experiments package.

May: Surveyor 1, the first instrumented spacecraft designed to soft-land

on the moon and return scientific data, landed in Oceanus Procellarum.

August: Lunar Orbiter 1, the first of five photographic satellites to be launched

in the following 12 months, returned detailed photographs of nine primary

and seven alternate Apollo landing sites.

Contracts were let for the first two phases of construction of the lunar receiving laboratory at the Manned Spacecraft Center.

December: MSC created a Science and Applications Directorate to manage the

scientific activities of the center, removing this responsibility from the

Engineering and Development Directorate.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

1967

January: A Lunar Missions Planning Board was established at MSC.

A flash fire in Apollo command module 012 during preflight simulations

at Cape Canaveral killed all three of the astronauts inside. Investigation of

the cause of this tragedy by NASA and by Congress revealed serious shortcomings in the design of the spacecraft and management of manufacturing,

testing, and manned simulations. Progress in the lunar landing program was

drastically slowed; it was later estimated that the fire delayed the first lunar

landing by 18 months.

February: MSC announced selection of a scientist, Dr. Wilmot N. Hess, of

Goddard Space Flight Center, to head its new Science and Applications

Directorate.

March: The Office of Space Science and Applications released the names

of 110 principal investigators whose proposals for scientific research on the

lunar samples had been accepted.

Eleven scientists were selected for astronaut training, bringing the total

number of scientist-astronauts to 15.

May: Prime and backup crews were named for Apollo 7, the first mission to fly after the fire. No launch date was announced, but assignment of

crews indicated NASA's confidence that problems uncovered by the fire were

on the way to solution.

July: Construction of the lunar receiving laboratory was completed and

work was under way to install its specialized scientific equipment.

August: MSC named P. R. Bell, a radiation physicist at the Oak Ridge

National Laboratory, to head the lunar receiving laboratory. Bell would report

to MSC's Director of Science and Applications.

Wilmot Hess convened a group of NASA and academic scientists at the

University of California at Santa Cruz to prepare more detailed plans for lunar

exploration based on current expectations for lunar missions. At the end of

the conference Hess named a Group for Lunar Exploration Planning to work

continuously with MSC in defining the scientific aspects of Apollo missions.

September: A Lunar Sample Preliminary Examination Team and a Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team, both including outside and NASA scientists,

were created to assist the staff of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory in the examination and apportionment of lunar samples.

November: The first test flight of a complete Saturn V was successfully launched

from NASA's new facilities at Kennedy Space Center and completed without significant anomalies.

December: OMSF established a Lunar Exploration Office within the Apollo Program Office, merging several program units concerned with lunar exploration. A Systems Development group staffed from OMSF would direct

hardware development; a Lunar Science group staffed from OSSA would

approve operating plans and scientific objectives, payloads, and principal

investigators for specific missions.

During the year: The Interagency Committee on Back Contamination worked out

procedures for quarantine and release of lunar astronauts and samples and

defined a biological test program to search for extraterrestrial organisms.

356
Appendix 4

NASA and the National Academy of Sciences worked to establish a center

for research on lunar and planetary samples adjacent to the Manned Spacecraft Center. The center, to be managed by a consortium of universities, would

be the organization through which interested researchers could gain access

to the lunar materials for scientific work and would provide office space and

other support for visiting scientists.

1968

January: The lunar module was given its first test (unmanned) in an earthorbiting mission.

August: Plans were set in motion to fly a circumlunar mission on the second manned Apollo flight.

In view of problems in building the instruments and constraints appearing in mission planning, OMSF decided not to fly the lunar surface experiments package on the first lunar landing mission. Instead, a simplified set

of instruments (a laser reflector and a passive seismometer) would be developed for the first mission and the more extensive set currently in development would be flown later.

October: Apollo 7, the first manned flight of the Apollo command module,

was launched for an 11-day earth-orbital test. All primary objectives of the

flight were met.

An operational readiness inspection of the lunar receiving laboratory was

conducted and numerous discrepancies were noted. A 10-day simulation of

LRL operations similarly uncovered many shortcomings in equipment and

procedures.

December: The first flight of a manned mission on a Saturn V was launched

on December 21. Apollo 8 flew to the moon, completed 10 orbits, and returned

safely to earth on December 27. While in lunar orbit the crew made numerous visual and photographic observations of potential landing sites.

During the year: The Apollo Site Selection Board, working with the Group for

Lunar Exploration Planning and Bellcomm, selected five sites as alternatives

for the first lunar landing mission. Work continued into 1969 to produce and

refine a list from which sites for subsequent exploration missions would be

chosen.

1969

March: Apollo 9 checked out manned operation of the lunar module, including rendezvous procedures, in a successful 10-day mission in earth orbit.

May: Apollo 10 carried out all phases of a lunar landing mission except

the final descent and landing. The lunar module descended to 50,000 feet

(15,000 meters) above the lunar surface, visually verified the approach to the

primary landing site for the first landing, and returned to lunar orbit to rendezvous with the command module.

357
Where No Man Has Gone Before

OMSF authorized the Marshall Space Flight Center to proceed with

development of a manned lunar roving vehicle capable of carrying two

astronauts several kilometers from their landed lunar module. The vehicle

would be used on the later Apollo exploration missions.

July: Apollo successfully achieved its primary goal with the landing of

the lunar module Eagle in the Sea of Tranquility on July 20 and the successful completion of Apollo 11 on July 24. Astronauts Neil Armstrong and Edwin

Aldrin spent 2.5 hours on the lunar surface, collected some 50 pounds (23

kg.) of lunar rocks and dust, and emplaced a passive seismometer and a laser

retroreflector.

July-August: The Apollo 11 samples were brought to the lunar receiving laboratory, examined, and prepared for issuance to outside scientists. After a threeweek stay, the crew was certified free of any biological contamination and

released.

August: NASA Headquarters approved a package of experiments for remote

sensing of the moon, to be flown in the Apollo service module on missions

12 through 20.

September-November: Lunar samples were released for scientific examination by

principal investigators.

October: NASA awarded a contract to the Boeing Company to build the lunar

roving vehicle.

November: Apollo 12 performed the first precision landing (within 1 km. of a

preselected spot) at a site in Oceanus Procellarum near the spacecraft Surveyor III. In two surface excursions (more than 7 1/2 hours spent outside the

lunar module) the astronauts emplaced the first complete ALSEP instrument

package, collected almost 75 pounds (34 kg.) of samples, and removed several

parts from the Surveyor for analysis.

1970

January: The Lunar Science Institute adjacent to the Manned Spacecraft Center was officially dedicated.

Detailed reports on the analysis of samples from Apollo 11 were presented

at a Lunar Science Conference in Houston, the first of a series of annual conferences on lunar (and later planetary) science.

Budget restrictions and the need to get on with post-Apollo development

forced NASA to cancel Apollo 20 and stretch out the remaining seven missions to six-month invervals.

April: Apollo 13, launched on April 11, was aborted two days later when

an oxygen tank containing an undetected defect exploded. Mission Control

teams devised emergency procedures to conserve oxygen and electrical

power, and the spacecraft and crew were brought back safely to earth on

April 17 after looping around the moon. An investigation board concluded

that the explosion resulted from a highly unlikely combination of circumstances that were traceable to human oversight.

358
Appendix 4

September: Two more missions, Apollo 15 and 19, were canceled because of

budget cuts. The remaining four missions were designated Apollo 14, 15,

16 and 17.

1971

January: Apollo 14 landed at a site of prime scientific interest, the Fra Mauro

Formation. During two excursions to the lunar surface the astronauts

emplaced a second set of scientific instruments and collected some 92 pounds

(40 kg.) of samples, but failed to reach a crater that had been one of their

primary objectives. The orbiting CSM carried out considerable photography

during the mission, including photography of a landing site proposed for

a future mission ("bootstrap" photography).

April: On the recommendation of the Interagency Committee on Back Contamination, NASA discontinued the practice of quarantining returned lunar

samples and astronauts. No evidence of viable organisms on the moon had

been produced on three lunar landing missions.

July: Apollo 15 carried the first extended lunar module and the first lunar

roving vehicle to the moon. The mission landed near Mount Hadley and

Hadley Rille and stayed almost 67 hours on the surface—twice as long as

any prior mission. The astronauts made three trips from their lunar module,

emplaced the third set of experiments (including a seismometer that completed a three-site seismic network on the moon), and drove the "rover"

a total distance of 17 1/2 miles (28 km.). The orbiting CSM carried the first scientific instrument module (SIM), which housed sensors that recorded data from

the moon's surface. A moon-circling subsatellite was launched to measure

particles and fields in the lunar environment. During the trip back to earth

the command module pilot retrieved film cassettes from the SIM experiments,

the first extravehicular activity conducted during a moon-to-earth voyage.

1972

April: Apollo 16 continued NASA's steady extension of lunar exploration

missions, staying 71 hours on the surface, planting the fourth set of instruments, and returning almost 200 pounds (91 kg.) of samples. A second set

of SIM instruments was operated, and another subsatellite was launched.

July: A summer study on post-Apollo lunar science outlined priorities

for future study of Apollo samples and data. The plan called for two years

of organization and preliminary analysis of the data, to be followed by two

years of careful examination of those data, after which priority would be given

to the key problems that emerged. The study recommended continued support of the curatorial facilities at MSC and collection of data from the lunar

surface experiments as long as they produced significant new information.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

December: The last lunar exploration mission, Apollo 17, carried the first scientist (geologist Harrison H. Schmitt) to the moon. After landing in the TaurusLittrow region, the astronauts stayed 75 hours, spent 22 hours outside the

lunar module, drove their rover 22 miles (35 km.), and collected nearly 250

pounds (113 km.) of samples.

1973

February: The Manned Spacecraft Center was renamed the Lyndon B. Johnson

Space Center.

March: A Lunar Programs Office was established in the Office of Space

Sciences, NASA Headquarters, to conduct the Lunar Data Analysis and Synthesis Program. The program would oversee the collection and scientific analysis of data from the lunar surface instruments and the lunar samples.

May: The first post-Apollo manned space flight program began with the

launch of Skylab 1, a Saturn S-IVB stage converted to a laboratory module

capable of supporting three-person crews for long periods in earth orbit.

Skylab was the outgrowth of earlier "Apollo Applications" planning intended

to use the hardware developed for Apollo to collect scientific data. Skylab 1

used the last Saturn V rocket ever launched. Crews occupied the laboratory

for periods of 28, 59, and 84 days; the last mission ended on February 8, 1974.

August: The Office of Manned Space Flight designated an official to be

responsible for the final phasing out of the Apollo project.

1975

July: The Apollo-Soyuz Test Project (ASTP) , the first international

manned space mission, was conducted in cooperation with the Soviet Union.

An Apollo command and service module fitted with a special adapter docked

with a Soviet Soyuz spacecraft to conduct joint operations in earth orbit. After

separating from the Soyuz, the Apollo crew carried out a short program of

scientific experiments. ASTP marked the last use of the launch vehicles and

spacecraft built for the Apollo project.

360
APPENDIX 5

SUMMARY DATA ON APOLLO MISSIONS

Apollo Manned Missions:

Vehicle, Crew, and Launch Data

Mission

No.

Launch

vehicle

No. a

CSM

No.

LM

No. Crew b

Call signs

(CSM, LM)

Date, time r

of launch

Launch

site d

Apollo 7 205 101 None Schirra, Eisele, Apollo 7 11 Oct. 1968 ETR

Cunningham (no LM) 10:02:45 a.m. LC-34

Apollo 8 503 103 None Borman, Lovell, Apollo 8 21 Dec. 1968 KSC

Anders (no LM) 7:51:00 a.m. LC-39A

Apollo 9 504 104 3 McDivitt, Scott, Gumdrop, 3 March 1969 KSC

Schweickart Spider 11:00:00 a.m. LC-39A

Apollo 10 505 106 4 Stafford, Young, Charlie Brown, 18 May 1969 KSC

Cernan Snoopy 11:49:00 a.m. LC-39B

Apollo 11 506 107 5 Armstrong, Collins, Columbia, 16 July 1969 KSC

Aldrin Eagle 8:32:00 a.m. LC-39A

Apollo 12 507 108 6 Conrad, Gordon, Yankee

Clipper, 14 Nov. 1969 KSC

Bean Intrepid 11:22:00 a.m. LC-39A

Apollo 13 508 109 7 Lovell, Swigert, Odyssey, 11 Apr. 1970 KSC

Haise Aquarius 2:13:00 p.m. LC-39A

Apollo 14 509 110 8 Shepard, Roosa, Kitty Hawk, 31Jan. 1971 KSC

Mitchell Antares 5:03:02 p.m. LC-39A

Apollo 15 510 112 10 Scott, Worden, Endeavor, 26 July 1971 KSC

Irwin Falcon 8:34:00 a.m. LC-39A

Apollo 16 511 113 11 Young, Mattingly, Caspar, 16 Apr. 1972 KSC

Duke Orion 12:54:00

p.m. LC-39A

Apollo 17 512 114 12 Cernan, Evans, America, 7 Dec. 1972 KSC

Schmitt Challenger 12:33:00 a.m. LC-39A

200 number, Saturn IB; 500 number, Saturn

b Commander, CM pilot, LM pilot.

r Eastern Standard Time.

d ETR, Eastern Test Range; KSC, Kennedy Space Center; LC, launch complex.

Source for all tables. "Apollo Program Summary Report," ISC-09423, April 1975

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Apollo Manned Missions:

Landing and Recovery Data

Mission

Landing

date, time a

Mission

duration b

Landing point,

lat., longs Ocean

Distance

from target

(naut. mi.) c

Recovery

ship

Apollo 7 22 Oct. 1968 260:09:03 27038'N, 64 o 9'W Atlantic 1.9 U.S.S. Essex

6:11:48 a.m.

Apollo 8 27 Dec. 1968 147:00:42 8o 6'N, 165 o 1'W Pacific 1.4 U.S.S. Yorktown

10:51:42 a.m.

Apollo 9 13 March 1969 241:00:54 23013'N, 67 059'W Atlantic 2.7 U.S.S. Guadalcanal

12:00:53 p.m.

Apollo 10 26 May 1969 192:03:23 15o 4'S, 164 o39'W Pacific 1.3 U.S.S. Princeton

11:52:23 a.m.

Apollo 11 24 July 1969 195:18:35 13o18'N, 169 0 9'W Pacific 1.7 U.S.S. Hornet

11:50:35 a.m.

Apollo 12 24 Nov. 1969 244:36:25 15°47'5, 165° 9'W Pacific 2.0 U.S.S. Hornet

3:58:25 p.m.

Apollo 13 17 April 1970 142:54:41 21o38'S, 165 o22'W Pacific 1.0 U.S.S. Iwo lima

1:07:41 p.m.

Apollo 14 9 Feb. 1971 216:01:58 27o 1'S, 172 o40'W Pacific 0.6 U.S.S. New Orleans

4:05:00 p.m.

Apollo 15 7 Aug. 1971 259:11:53 260 8'N, 158° 8'W Pacific 1.0 U.S.S. Okinawa

3:45:53 p.m.

Apollo 16 27 Apr. 1972 265:51:05 0'42'5, 156 0 13'W Pacific 3.0 U.S.S. Ticonderoga

2:45:05 p.m.

Apollo 17 19 Dec. 1972 301:51:59 17053'5, 166 0 7'W Pacific 1.0 U.S.S. Ticonderoga

2:24:59 p.m

+ Command module splashdown, Eastern Standard Time. Best estimate; may be based on recovery ship position data, CM comb Hours: minutes:seconds. puter data, or trajectory reconstruction.

362
Appendix 5

Summary of Apollo Lunar Surface Activity

Mission

No.

Lunar

landing site

(lat., long./name)

Date, time a of:

Lunar landing Lunar liftoff

Time on

lunar

surface b

Duration

of EVAs c

Weight of

samples

collected

(kg.)

Apollo 11 0.7oN, 23.4 oE 20 July 1969 21 July 1969 21:36:21 2:31:40 21

Mare 5:17:40 p.m. 2:54:01 p.m.

Tranquillitatis

Apollo 12 3.2°S, 23.4 oW 19 Nov. 1969 20 Nov. 1969 31:31:12 3:56:03 16.7

Oceanus 1:54:36 a.m. 9:25:48 a.m. 3:49:15 17.6

Procellarum 7:45:18 34.3

Apollo 14 d 3.6°S, 17.5°W 5 Feb. 1971 6 Feb. 1971 33:30:31 4:47:50 20.5

Fra Mauro 4:18:11 a.m. 1:48:42 p.m. 4:34:41 22.3

9:22:31 42.8

Apollo 15 26.1oN, 3.7 oE 30 July 1971 2 Aug. 1971 66:54:53 0:33:07e

Hadley-Apennine 5:16:29 p.m. 1:11:22 p.m. 6:32:42 14.5

7:12:14 34.9

4:49:50 27.3

19:07:53 76.7

Apollo 16 9.0°S, 15.51 20 Apr. 1972 23 Apr. 1972 71:02:13 7:11:02 29.9

Descartes 9:23:35 p.m. 8:25:48 p.m. 7:23:11 29.0

5:40:03 35.4

20:14:16 94.3

Apollo 17 20.2oN, 30.8 oE 11 Dec. 1972 14 Dec. 1972 74:59:40 7:11:53 14.3

Taurus-Littrow 2:54:57 p.m. 5:54:37 p.m. 7:36:56 34.1

7:15:08 62.0

22:03:57 110.4

a Eastern Standard Time. Liftoff time calculated from touchdown time plus time on lunar surface.

b Touchdown to liftoff, hr:mm:sec.

r Extravehicular activity in hr.min:sec, LM hatch opening to closing. Multiple EVAs shown separately.

n Apollo 13 was aborted following an explosion in the service module 55 hr, 54 min after launch. Intended landing site, on the Fra Mauro formation, was used for Apollo 14.

"Standup" EVA—commander stood up in open upper LM hatch to make visual and photographic observations of the landing area.

Source: JSC-09423, "Apollo Program Summary Report," April 1975.

363
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Apollo Science Experiments

Mission

Experiment 11 12 13 14 15 16 17

I. Surface Experiments

5-031 Passive seismic experiment x x (x) x x x

5-033 Active seismic experiment x x

5-034 Lunar surface magnetometer x x x

5-035 Solar wind spectrometer x x

5-036 Suprathermal ion detector x x x

5-037 Heat Flow experiment (x) x x

5-038 Charged particle

lunar environment (x) x

5-058 Cold cathode ion gauge x x x

5-059 Lunar field geology x x (x) x x x x

5-080 Solar wind composition x x (x) x x x

5-078 Laser ranging retroreflector x x x

M-515 Lunar dust detector x (x) x x

5-198 Portable magnetometer x x

5-199 Lunar gravity traverse x

5-200 Soil mechanics x x x x

5-201 Far-ultraviolet

cameralspectroscope x

5-202 Lunar ejecta and meteorites x

5-203 Lunar seismic profiling x

5-204 Surface electrical properties x

5-205 Lunar atmospheric composition x

5-207 Lunar surface gravimeter x

5-229 Lunar neutron probe x

II. Lunar Orbital Experiments

5-158 Multispectral photography x

5-176 Command module window

meteoroid x x x x

5-177 Ultraviolet photography,

earth and moon x x

5-178 Gegenschein from lunar orbit (x) x x

5-160 Gamma-ray spectrometer x x

5-161 X-ray fluorescence x x

5-162 Alpha-particle spectrometer x x

5-164 S-band transponder (CSM/LM) x (x) x x x

5-164 S-band transponder

(subsatellite) x x

5-165 Mass spectrometer x x

5-169 Far-ultraviolet spectrometer x

5-170 Bistatic radar x x x x

5-171 Infrared scanning radiometer x

5-173 Particle shadows/boundary

layer (subsatellite) x x

5-174 Magnetometer (subsatellite) x x

5-209 Lunar sounder x

(x) not performed (or deployed) on aborted mission.

Source: JSC, "What We've Learned About The Moon," July 1980

364
Appendix 5

Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package Arrays and Status as of April 1975'

Apollo 12 Apollo 13 Apollo 14 Apollo 15 Apollo 16 Apollo 17

Experiment Array A Array B Array C Array A-2 Array D Array E

Passive seismic Short-period Z-axis Not deployed. Long-period Z-axis Full operation. Full operation.

has displayed inoperative since

reduced sensitivity 3120172. Noisy data

since deployment. on long-penod Y

axis since 4114173.

Active seismic Mortar not fired. 3 of 4 grenades

Geophone 3 data launched. Mortar

noisy since 3126171. pitch sensor off scale

Geophone 2 data after 3rd firing on

invalid since 11324. 5123172.

Lunar surface permanently com- permanently com- Full operation.

magnetometer manded off 6114174. ma.ded off 6114174.

Solar wind Full operation except Permanently comspectrometer for intermittent manded off 6114174.

modulation drop in

two proton energy

levels each lunation

since 1115171.

Suprathermal Periodically cont- Periodically com- Periodically comion detector manded off to pre- manded to standby manded to standby

vent high-voltage operation to avoid operation to avoid

arcing at elevated mode changes at mode changes at

lunar day tempera- elevated lunar day elevated lunar day

tures since 919172 temperatures since temperatures since

3129172. 9113173.

Heat flow Not deployed. Probe 2 not to full Inoperative since Full operation.

depth intended, but emplacement.

experiment provides

useful data.

Cold cathode Inoperative. Failed Not deployed. Intermittent science Intermittent science

ton gauge 14 hours after turn- data since 329171 data since 2122173.

on 11120169.

Lunar ejecta Thermal control

and meteorites design not optimum

for Apollo 17 site.

Instrument operated

for about 75 percent

of lunation.

The Apollo 14 ALSEP station failed in Januarv, 1976. The stations still operating (12, 15, 16, and 17) were turned off September 30, 1977

365
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Flight Directors for Apollo Manned Missions

Mission Shift 1 Shift 2 Shift 3 Shift 4

7 Glynn S. Lunney Eugene F. Kranz Gerald D. Griffin —

8 Clifford E. Charlesworth Lunney Milton L. Windler —

9 Kranz Griffin M. P. Frank —

10 Lunney, Griffin Windler Frank —

11 Charlesworth, Griffin Kranz Lunney Windler

12 Griffin Frank Charlesworth Lunney

13 Windler Griffin Kranz Lunney

14 Frank, Lunney Windler Griffin —

15 Griffin Windler Lunney, Kranz —

16 Frank, Philip C. Shaffer Kranz, Donald Griffin, Neil B. —

R. Puddy Hutchinson,

Charles R. Lewis

17 Griffin Kranz, Frank, Lewis —

Hutchinson

Source: memos from Director, Flight Operations, MSC, to multiple addressees, listing personnel assignments for the Mission Control Center

for each flight.

366
APPENDIX 6

PRIME AND BACKUP CREWS,

SUPPORT CREWS, AND

CAPSULE COMMUNICATORS FOR

APOLLO LUNAR MISSIONS*

Apollo 8 Prime Crew

Commander: Frank Borman, Colonel,** U.S. Air Force. Born March 14, 1928,

Gary, Indiana. B.S. 1950, U.S. Military Academy; M.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1957, California Institute of Technology. Chosen with the second group

of astronauts in 1962; backup command pilot for Gemini IV, command pilot

for Gemini VII, the longest manned mission (14 days) up to that time.

Command Module Pilot: James Arthur Lovell, Jr., Captain, U.S. Navy. Born

March 25, 1929, Cleveland, Ohio. B.S. 1952, U.S. Naval Academy. Chosen

with the second group of astronauts in 1962; backup pilot for Gemini IV, pilot

for Gemini VII, backup command pilot for Gemini IX, command pilot for

Gemini X1I; later served as backup commander for Apollo 11 and commander

for Apollo 13.

Lunar Module Pilot: William Anderson Anders, Major, U.S. Air Force. Born

October 17, 1933, in Hong Kong. B.S. 1955, U.S. Naval Academy; M.S.

(nuclear engineering), 1963, Air Force Institute of Technology. Chosen with

the third group of astronauts in 1963; backup pilot for Gemini XI; later served

as backup command module pilot for Apollo 11.

Apollo 8 Backup Crew

Commander: Neil A. Armstrong (see prime crew, Apollo 11).

Command Module Pilot: Edwin A. Aldrin (see prime crew, Apollo 11).

Lunar Module Pilot: Fred W. Haise (see prime crew, Apollo 13).

Apollo 10 Prime Crew

Commander: Thomas Patton Stafford, Colonel, U.S. Air Force. Born September 17, 1930, Weatherford, Oklahoma. B.S., 1952, U.S. Naval Academy. Chosen with the second group of astronauts in 1962; backup pilot for Gemini

*Source: Astronauts and Cosmonauts, Biographical and Statistical Data [Revised May 31, 1978], report

prepared for the House Committee on Science and Technology by the Congressional Research Service, Library of Congress, July 1978; Apollo mission reports.

**Military ranks given are those held at the time of the mission.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

III, pilot for Gemini VI, backup commander for Apollo 7; later commander,

Apollo-Soyuz Test Project.

Command Module Pilot: John Watts Young, Commander, U.S. Navy. Born September 24, 1930, San Francisco, California. B.S. (aeronautical engineering),

1952, Georgia Institute of Technology. Chosen with the second group of

astronauts in 1962; pilot of Gemini III, backup pilot for Gemini VI, command

pilot for Gemini X; later backup commander for Apollo 13, commander for

Apollo 16 (ninth man to walk on the moon), and backup commander for

Apollo 17. Later commanded several flights of the Space Shuttle Orbiter.

Lunar Module Pilot: Eugene Andrew Cernan, Commander, U.S. Navy. Born

March 14, 1934, Chicago, Illinois. B.S. (electrical engineering), 1956, Purdue

University; M.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1961, Purdue and the U.S. Naval

Postgraduate School. Chosen with the third group of astronauts in 1963. Pilot

for Gemini IX, backup pilot for Gemini XII, backup lunar module pilot for

Apollo 7; later backup commander for Apollo 14 and commander of Apollo

17 (eleventh man to walk on the moon).

Apollo 10 Backup Crew

Commander: Leroy Gordon Cooper, Colonel, U.S. Air Force. Born March 6,

1927, Shawnee, Oklahoma. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1956, U.S. Air

Force Institute of Technology. Chosen with the first group of astronauts in

1959. Backup pilot for Mercury-Atlas 8, pilot for Mercury-Atlas 9 (last flight

in the Mercury project), command pilot for Gemini V, backup command pilot

for Gemini XII.

Command Module Pilot: Donn Fulton Eisele, Major, U.S. Air Force. Born June

23, 1930, Columbus, Ohio. B.S., 1952, U.S. Naval Academy; M. S. (astronautics), 1960, Air Force Institute of Technology. Chosen with the third group

of astronauts in 1963; command module pilot for Apollo 7.

Apollo 11 Prime Crew

Commander: Neil Alden Armstrong (civilian). Born August 5, 1930,

Wapakoneta, Ohio. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1955, Purdue University.

Naval aviator and NASA test pilot, working in the X-15 program at the time

of his selection with the second group of astronauts in 1962. Backup command pilot for Gemini V, command pilot for Gemini VIII, backup commander

for Apollo 8; first man to walk on the moon.

Command Module Pilot: Michael Collins, Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Air Force.

Born October 31, 1930, Rome, Italy. B.S., 1952, U.S. Military Academy. Chosen with the third group of astronauts in 1963. Served as backup pilot for

Gemini VII, pilot for Gemini X; assigned to Apollo 8 but replaced when a

bone spur required surgery.

Lunar Module Pilot: Edwin Eugene ("Buzz") Aldrin, Jr., Colonel, U.S. Air

Force. Born January 20, 1930, Montclair, N.J. B.S., 1951, U.S. Military

Academy; Sc.D. (astronautics), 1963, Massachusetts Institute of Technology.

368
Appendix 6

Chosen with the third group of astronauts in 1963. Backup pilot for Gemini

IX, pilot for Gemini XII; second man to walk on the moon.

Apollo 11 Backup Crew

Commander: James A. Lovell (see prime crew, Apollo 8).

Command Module Pilot: William A. Anders (see prime crew, Apollo 8).

Lunar Module Pilot: Fred W. Haise (see prime crew, Apollo 13).

Apollo 12 Prime Crew

Commander: Charles ("Pete") Conrad, Jr., Commander, U.S. Navy. Born June

2, 1930, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1953,

Princeton University. Chosen with the second group of astronauts in 1962.

Served as pilot for Gemini V, backup command pilot of Gemini VIII, command pilot for Gemini XI, backup commander for Apollo 9; third man to walk

on the moon. Later served as commander of Skylab 2.

Command Module Pilot: Richard Francis Gordon, Jr., Commander, U.S. Navy.

Born October 5, 1929, Seattle, Washington. B.S. (chemistry), 1951, University of Washington. Chosen with the third group of astronauts in 1963. Served

as backup pilot for Gemini VIII, pilot for Gemini XI, backup command module pilot for Apollo 9; later served as backup commander for Apollo 15.

Lunar Module Pilot: Alan LaVerne Bean, Commander, U.S. Navy. Born March

15, 1932, Wheeler, Texas. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1955, The University of Texas. Chosen with the third group of astronauts in 1963. Served as

backup command pilot for Gemini X, backup lunar module pilot for Apollo

9; fourth man to walk on the moon. Later served as commander for Skylab

3 and backup commander for the Apollo-Soyuz Test Project.

Apollo 12 Backup Crew

Commander: David R. Scott (see prime crew, Apollo 15).

Command Module Pilot: Alfred M. Worden (see prime crew, Apollo 15).

Lunar Module Pilot: James B. Irwin (see prime crew, Apollo 15).

Apollo 13 Prime Crew

Commander: James A. Lovell (see Apollo 8 prime crew).

Command Module Pilot: John Leonard Swigert, Jr. (civilian). Born August 30,

1931, Denver, Colorado. B.S. (mechanical engineering), 1953, University of

Colorado; M.S. (aerospace science), 1965, Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute,

M.S. (business administration), 1967, University of Hartford. Chosen with

the fifth group of astronauts in 1966. Originally assigned as backup command

module pilot on Apollo 13; took over the prime crew position 72 hours before

369
Where No Man Has Gone Before

launch when Thomas Mattingly (see Apollo 16 prime crew, below) was found

to have been exposed to rubella.

Lunar Module Pilot: Fred Wallace Haise (civilian). Born November 14, 1933,

Biloxi, Mississippi. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1951, University of Oklahoma. Served as an aviator in the U.S. Marine Corps and the U.S. Air Force.

Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966. Served as backup lunar

module pilot for Apollo 11 and later as backup commander for Apollo 16.

Apollo 13 Backup Crew

Commander: John W. Young (see Apollo 10 prime crew).

Command Module Pilot: John L. Swigert (see Apollo 13 prime crew).

Lunar Module Pilot: Charles M. Duke (see Apollo 16 prime crew).

Apollo 14 Prime Crew

Commander: Alan Bartlett Shepard, Jr., Captain, U.S. Navy. Born November 18, 1923, East Derry, New Hampshire. B.S., 1944, U.S. Naval Academy.

Chosen with the first group of astronauts in 1959, he was the United States'

first man in space (Mercury-Redstone 3, Freedom 7, suborbital flight March

1961) and backup pilot for Mercury-Atlas 9 (Faith 7). He was grounded

because of an inner-ear ailment until May 1969; On returning to flight status he was assigned as commander of Apollo 14 and became the fifth man

(the only one of the first group of astronauts) to walk on the moon.

Command Module Pilot: Stuart Allen Roosa, Major, U.S. Air Force. Born

August 15, 1933, Durango, Colorado. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1960,

University of Colorado. Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966.

Apollo 14 was his first assignment; he later served as backup command

module pilot for Apollo 16 and Apollo 17.

Lunar Module Pilot: Edgar Dean Mitchell, Commander, U.S. Navy. Born September 17, 1930, Hereford, Texas. B.S. (industrial management), 1952, Carnegie Institute of Technology; B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1961, U.S.

Naval Postgraduate School, Sc.D. (aeronautics and astronautics), 1964, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts

in 1966; sixth man to walk on the moon. Later served as backup lunar module pilot for Apollo 16.

Apollo 14 Backup Crew

Commander: Eugene A. Cernan (see prime crew, Apollo 10).

Command Module Pilot: Ronald E. Evans (see prime crew, Apollo 17).

Lunar Module Pilot: Joe Henry Engle, Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Air Force.

Born August 26, 1932, Abilene, Kansas. B.S. (aeronautical engineering),

1955, University of Kansas. Qualified as an astronaut in the NASA-Air Force

X-15 project, he was chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966. Apollo

370
Appendix 6

14 was his first and only Apollo assignment; he later participated in the

approach and landing tests and the orbital flight tests of the Space Shuttle

Orbiter.

Apollo 15 Prime Crew

Commander: David Randolph Scott, Colonel, U.S. Air Force. Born June 6,

1932, in San Antonio, Texas. B.S., 1954, U.S. Military Academy; M.S. (aeronautics and astronautics) and Engineer of Aeronautics and Astronautics,

1963, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Chosen with the third group

of astronauts in 1963. Served as pilot for Gemini VIII, command module

pilot for Apollo, 9; seventh man to walk on the moon.

Command Module Pilot: Alfred Merrill Worden, Major, U.S. Air Force. Born

February 7, 1932, in Jackson, Michigan. B.S., 1955, U.S. Military Academy;

M.S. (astronautical/aeronautical engineering and instrumentation engineering), 1963, University of Michigan. Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts

in 1966. Served as backup command module pilot on Apollo 12.

Lunar Module Pilot: James Benson Irwin, Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Air Force.

Born March 17, 1930, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. B.S., 1951, U.S. Naval

Academy; M.S. (aeronautical and instrumentation engineering), 1957,

University of Michigan. Served as backup lunar module pilot on Apollo

12; eighth man to walk on the moon. Resigned from NASA and the Air

Force in 1972.

Apollo 15 Backup Crew

Commander: Richard F. Gordon (see prime crew, Apollo 12).

Command Module Pilot: Vance DeVoe Brand (civilian). Born May 9, 1931,

Longmont, Colorado. B.S. (business), 1953, B.S. (aeronautical engineering),

1960, University of Colorado; M.S. (business administration), 1964, University of California at Los Angeles. Served as aviator in the U.S. Marine Corps

and as flight test engineer and test pilot with the Lockheed Aircraft Corporation. Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966. Assigned to support crew for Apollo 13; later served as command module pilot for the

Apollo-Soyuz Test Project and commanded two flights of the Shuttle

Orbiter.

Lunar Module Pilot: Harrison Hagan ("Jack") Schmitt (see prime crew,

Apollo 17).

Apollo 16 Prime Crew

Commander: John W. Young (see prime crew, Apollo 10).

Command Module Pilot: Thomas K. Mattingly II, Lieutenant Commander, U.S.

Navy. Born March 17, 1936, Chicago, Illinois. B.S. (aeronautical engineer371
Where No Man Has Gone Before

ing), 1958, Auburn University. Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in

1966. Served as command module pilot for Apollo 13 until three days before

launch, when it was discovered that he had been exposed to rubella (German measles) and had no immunity. Later commanded the fourth orbital test

flight of the first Space Shuttle Orbiter, Columbia.

Lunar Module Pilot: Charles Moss Duke, Jr., Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Air Force.

Born October 3, 1935, Charlotte, North Carolina. B.S., 1957, U.S. Naval

Academy. Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966. Served as backup

lunar module pilot on Apollo 13. Tenth man to walk on the moon.

Apollo 16 Backup Crew

Commander: Fred W. Haise (see prime crew, Apollo 13).

Command Module Pilot: Stuart A. Roosa (see prime crew, Apollo 14).

Lunar Module Pilot: Edgar D. Mitchell (see prime crew, Apollo 14).

Apollo 17 Prime Crew

Commander: Eugene A. Cernan (see prime crew, Apollo 10).

Command Module Pilot: Ronald Ellwin Evans, Commander, U.S. Navy. Born

November 10, 1933, St. Francis, Kansas. B.S. (electrical engineering), 1956,

University of Kansas; M.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1964, U.S. Naval Postgraduate School. Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966. Apollo

14 was his first crew assignment; later served as command module pilot for

Apollo 17 and backup command module pilot for the Apollo-Soyuz Test

Project.

Lunar Module Pilot: Harrison Hagan ("Jack") Schmitt (civilian). Born July 3,

1935, Santa Rita, New Mexico. B.S. (science), 1957, California Institute of Technology; Ph.D. (geology), 1964, Harvard University. At the time of selection

as an astronaut Dr. Schmitt was working with the Astrogeology Branch, U.S.

Geological Survey, Flagstaff, Arizona, as project chief for lunar field geological methods and was involved in photographic and telescopic mapping of

the moon. Chosen with the first group of scientist-astronauts in 1965. Served

as backup lunar module pilot on Apollo 15; twelfth and last man, and the

only geologist, to walk on the moon.

Apollo 17 Backup Crew

Commander: Fred Haise (see prime crew, Apollo 13)

Command module pilot: Alfred Worden (see prime crew, Apollo 15)

Lunar module pilot: James Irvin (see prime crew, Apollo 15)

372
Appendix 6

Two other missions, Apollo 7 and Apollo 9, were earth-orbiting missions conducted to test the redesigned Apollo (Block II) spacecraft and the lunar module

before committing them to a lunar mission.

Apollo 7 Prime Crew

Commander: Walter Marty Schirra, Jr., Captain, U.S. Navy. Born March 12,

1923, Hackensack, New Jersey. B.S., 1945, U.S. Naval Academy. Chosen with

the first group of astronauts in 1959; the only member of this group to fly

in Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo. Served as backup pilot for Mercury-Atlas 7

(Aurora 7) and pilot for Mercury-Atlas 8 (Sigma 7), backup command pilot for

Gemini III, command pilot of Gemini VI (first mission to conduct a rendezvous).

Command Module Pilot: Donn F. Eisele (see backup crew, Apollo 10).

Lunar Module Pilot (no lunar module assigned to this flight): Ronnie Walter

Cunningham (civilian). Born March 16, 1932, Creston, Iowa. B.A., 1960, and

M.A., 1961 (physics), University of California at Los Angeles. Chosen with

the third group of astronauts in 1963.

Apollo 7 Backup Crew

Commander: Thomas P. Stafford (see prime crew, Apollo 10).

Command Module Pilot: John W. Young (see prime crew, Apollo 10).

Lunar Module Pilot: Eugene A. Cernan (see prime crew, Apollo 10).

Apollo 9 Prime Crew

Commander: James Alton McDivitt, Colonel, U.S. Air Force. Born June 10, 1929,

Chicago, Illinois. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1959, University of Michigan. Chosen with the second group of astronauts in 1962. Command pilot

for Gemini IV. Served as manager of the Apollo Spacecraft Project Office at

MSC from 1969 to 1972.

Command Module Pilot: David R. Scott (see prime crew, Apollo 15).

Lunar Module Pilot: Russell Louis Schweickart (civilian). Born October 25, 1935,

Neptune, New Jersey. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1956; M.S. (aeronautics and astronautics), 1963, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Chosen

with the third group of astronauts in 1963. Later served as backup commander

for Skylab 2.

Apollo 9 Backup Crew

Commander, Charles Conrad; Command Module Pilot, Richard F. Gordon;

Lunar Module Pilot Alan L. Bean (see prime crew, Apollo 12).

373
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Support crews were assigned for the first time in Apollo, to assume some of the

large work load entailed by the greater complexity of the Apollo spacecraft and

the lunar missions. Their duties were many and varied: maintaining the flight

data file, filling in for prime and backup crew members at design reviews where

necessary, and keeping the prime and backup crews informed of changes in procedures (simulations, experiments, etc.). Some support crewmen later served on

prime or backup crews but many did not. Following are the members of the support crews for all the Apollo missions.

Apollo 7

Jack L. Swigert (prime crew, Apollo 13)

Ronald E. Evans (prime crew, Apollo 17)

Edward Galen Givens, Jr., Major, U.S. Air Force, born January 5, 1930, Quanah,

Texas. B.S., 1952, U.S. Naval Academy. Chosen with the fifth group of

astronauts in 1966; killed in an automobile accident June 6, 1967.

Apollo 8

Thomas K. Mattingly II (prime crew, Apollo 16).

Gerald Paul Carr, Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Marine Corps. Born August 22, 1932,

Denver, Colorado. B.S. (mechanical engineering), 1954, University of Southern California; B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1961, U.S. Naval Postgraduate School; M.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1962, Princeton University.

Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966. No other Apollo crew

assignments; later served as commander for Skylab 4.

John Sumter Bull, Lieutenant Commander, U.S. Navy. Born September 25,

1935, Memphis, Tennessee. B.S. (mechanical engineering), 1957, William

Marsh Rice University. Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966.

Withdrew from the program in 1968 for medical reasons.

Apollo 9

Edgar D. Mitchell (prime crew, Apollo 14)

Fred W. Raise (prime crew, Apollo 13)

Alfred M. Worden (prime crew, Apollo 15)

Apollo 10

Joe H. Engle (backup crew, Apollo 14)

James B. Irwin (prime crew, Apollo 15)

Charles M. Duke, Jr. (prime crew, Apollo 16)

374
Appendix 6

Apollo 11

Thomas K. Mattingly II (prime crew, Apollo 16)

Ronald E. Evans (prime crew, Apollo 17)

John L. Swigert (prime crew, Apollo 13)

William Reid Pogue, Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Air Force. Born January 23, 1930,

Okemah, Oklahoma. B.S. (education), 1951, Oklahoma Baptist University;

M. S. (mathematics), 1960, Oklahoma State University. Chosen with the fifth

group of astronauts in 1966. Later served on support crews for Apollo 13 and

Apollo 14 and as pilot for Skylab 4.

Apollo 12

Gerald P. Carr (support crew, Apollo 8)

Paul Joseph Weitz, Lieutenant Commander, U.S. Navy. Born July 25, 1932, Erie,

Pennsylvania. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1954, Pennsylvania State

University; M.S. (aeronautical engineering), U.S. Naval Postgraduate School.

Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966. Later served as pilot on

Skylab 2.

Edward George Gibson (civilian). Born November 8, 1936, Buffalo, New York.

B.S. (engineering), 1959, University of Rochester; M.S. (engineering), 1960,

Ph.D. (engineering), 1964, California Institute of Technology. Chosen with

the first group of scientist-astronauts in 1965. Later served as scientist-pilot

on Skylab 4.

Apollo 13

Vance D. Brand (backup crew, Apollo 15)

Willam R. Pogue (support crew, Apollo 11)

Jack Robert Lousma, Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Marine Corps. Born February

29, 1936, Grand Rapids, Michigan. B.S. (aeronautical engineering), 1959,

University of Michigan; Aeronautical Engineer, 1965, U.S. Naval Postgraduate School. Chosen with the fifth goup of astronauts in 1966. Later served

as pilot for Skylab 3 and backup docking module pilot for the Apollo-Soyuz

Test Project.

Apollo 14

William R. Pogue (Backup crew, Apollo 11 and Apollo 13)

Bruce McCandless II, Commander, U.S. Navy. Born June 8, 1937, Boston, Massachusetts. B.S., 1958, U.S. Naval Academy; M.S. (electrical engineering),

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

1965, Stanford University. Chosen with the fifth group of astronauts in 1966.

Later served as backup pilot for Skylab 2.

Charles Gordon Fullerton, Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Air Force. Born October

11, 1936, Rochester, New York. B.S. (mechanical engineering), 1957, M.S.

(mechanical engineering), 1958, California Institute of Technology. Transferred

to the NASA astronaut corps in 1969 from the Air Force Manned Orbiting

Laboratory project (canceled). Later served on the support crew for Apollo 17.

Apollo 15

Karl Gordon Henize (civilian). Born October 17, 1926, Cincinnati, Ohio. B.S.

(mathematics), 1947; M.S. (astronomy), 1948, University of Virginia; Ph.D.

(astronomy), 1954, University of Michigan. Chosen with the second group

of scientist-astronauts in 1967. Principal investigator for ultraviolet astronomy

experiments in the Skylab project. Later flew on Space Shuttle missions.

Robert Allan Ridley Parker (civilian). Born December 14, 1936, New York, New

York. B.A. (astronomy and physics), 1958, Amherst College; Ph.D.

(astronomy), 1962, California Institute of Technology. Chosen with the second group of scientist-astronauts in 1967. Later served as support crewman

and mission scientist for Apollo 17 and chief scientist for the Skylab missions.

Joseph Percival Allen IV (civilian). Born June 27, 1937, Crawfordsville, Indiana. B.A. (mathematics and physics), 1959, DePauw University; M.S.

(physics), 1961, Ph.D. (nuclear physics), 1965, Yale University. Chosen with

the second group of scientist-astronauts in 1967. Later served as mission scientist for Apollo 15; left the astronaut corps in 1975 to serve as NASA's Assistant Administrator for Legislative Affairs; returned in 1978 to participate in

the Space Shuttle program.

Apollo 16

Philip Kenyon Chapman (civilian). Born March 5, 1935, Melbourne, Victoria,

Australia (naturalized in U.S. May 8, 1967). B. Sc. (physics and mathematics),

1956, Sydney University; M.S. (aeronautics and astronautics) 1964, Ph.D.

(instrumentation), 1967, Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Chosen with

the second group of scientist-astronauts in 1967.

Anthony Wayne England (civilian). Born May 15, 1942, Indianapolis, Indiana.

B.S. and M.S. (geology and physics), 1965, Ph.D. (planetary sciences), 1970,

Massachusetts Institute of Technology. Chosen with the second group of

scientist-astronauts in 1967. Later mission scientist for Apollo 16.

Henry Warren Hartsfield, Jr., Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Air Force. Born November 21, 1933, Birmingham, Alabama. B.S. (physics), 1954, Auburn University; M.S. (engineering science), 1971, University of Tennessee. Transferred

to the NASA astronaut corps in 1969 from the Air Force Manned Orbiting

Laboratory project (canceled). Later flew on two Space Shuttle Orbiter flights.

376
Appendix 6

Apollo 17

Robert A. R. Parker (support crew, Apollo 15).

Charles G. Fullerton (support crew, Apollo 14).

Robert Franklyn Overmyer, Lieutenant Colonel, U.S. Marine Corps. Born July

14, 1936, Lorain, Ohio. B.S. (physics), 1958, Baldwin-Wallace College, M.S.

(aeronautics), 1964, U.S. Naval Postgraduate School. Transferred to the NASA

astronaut corps in 1969 from the Air Force Manned Orbiting Laboratory project (canceled). Later served as support crewman and capsule communicator

in Moscow for the Apollo-Soyuz Test Proiect and commanded STS Mission

31-B in the Space Shuttle program.

Astronaut Classes Selected Through 1969

First group, selected April 9, 1959:

Selection criteria: under 40 years of age; less than 5 ft., 11 in. tall; hold a

bachelor's degree in engineering or equivalent; graduate of test pilot school; qualified jet pilot with at least 1,500 hours of flying time.

Lt. M. Scott Carpenter, USN;

Capt. L. Gordon Cooper, USAF;

Lt. Col. John H. Glenn, Jr., USMC;

Capt. Virgil I. ("Gus") Grissom, USAF (died in AS-204 fire, Jan. 27, 1967);

Lt. Comdr. Walter M. Schirra, Jr., USN;

Lt. Comdr. Alan B. Shepard, Jr., USN; and

Capt. Donald K. ("Deke") Slayton, USAF.

Second group, selected September 17, 1962:

Selection criteria: under 35 years of age; bachelor's degree in a physical or biological science or engineering; experience as a jet test pilot, having graduated from

a military test pilot school or attained experimental flight test status in the armed

services, the aircraft industry, or NASA.

Neil A. Armstrong,

Maj. Frank Borman, USAF;

Lt. Charles ("Pete") Conrad, Jr., USN;

Lt. Comdr. James A. Lovell, Jr., USN;

Capt. James A. McDivitt, USAF;

Elliott M. See, Jr. (died in T-38 crash, Feb. 28, 1966);

Capt. Thomas P. Stafford, USAF;

Capt. Edward H. White I1, USAF (died in AS-204 fire, Jan. 27, 1967; and

Lt. Comdr. John W. Young, USN.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

Third group, selected October 18, 1963:

Selection criteria: under 34 years of age; bachelor's degree in science or engineering; experimental flight test status or 1,000 hours of jet flying time.

Maj. Edwin E. ("Buzz") Aldrin, Jr., USAF (Ph.D., astronautics);

Capt. William A. Anders, USAF;

Capt. Charles A. Bassett II, USAF (died in T-38 crash, Feb. 28, 1966);

Lt. Alan L. Bean, USN;

Lt. Eugene A. Cernan, USN;

Lt. Roger B. Chaffee, USN (died in AS-204 fire, Jan. 27, 1967);

Capt. Michael Collins, USAF;

R. Walter Cunningham;

Capt. Donn F. Eisele, USAF;

Capt.Theodore C. Freeman, USAF (died in T-38 crash, Oct. 31, 1964);

Lt. Comdr. Richard F. Gordon, Jr., USN;

Russell L. Schweickart;

Capt. David R. Scott, USAF; and

Capt. Clifton C. Williams, USMC (died in T-38 crash, Oct. 5, 1967).

Fourth group, selected June 28, 1965:

(scientist-astronauts)

Selection criteria: doctor's degree in medicine, engineering, or one of the natural sciences. Applicants were evaluated by a committee of the National Academy

of Sciences and those considered qualified were then reviewed by NASA for

selection.

Owen K. Garriott, Ph.D. (engineering);

Edward G. Gibson, Ph.D. (engineering);

Duane E. Graveline, M.D. (resigned before beginning training);

Lt. Comdr. Joseph P. Kerwin (M.D.), MC, USN;

F. Curtis Michel, Ph.D. (physics) (resigned 1969); and

Harrison H. ("Jack") Schmitt, Ph.D. (geology).

Fifth group, selected April 4, 1966:

Selection criteria same as those for the third group.

Vance D. Brand;

Lt. John S. Bull, USN (resigned for health reasons, 1968);

Maj. Gerald P. Carr, USMC;

Capt. Charles M. Duke, Jr., USAF;

Capt. Joe H. Engle, USAF;

Maj . Edward G. Givens, Jr., USAF (died in auto crash, June 6, 1967);

Fred W. Haise, Jr.;

Maj. James B. Irwin, USAF;

Don L. Lind., Ph.D. (physics);

378
Appendix 6

Capt. Jack R. Lousma, USMC;

Lt. Thomas Y. Mattingly II, USN;

Lt. Bruce McCandless I1, USN;

Comdr. Edgar D. Mitchell, USN (Sc.D.,

Maj. William R. Pogue, USAF;

Capt. Stuart A. Roosa, USAF;

John L. Swigert, Jr.;

Lt. Comdr. Paul J. Weitz, USN; and

Capt. Alfred M. Worden, USAF.

aeronautics and astronautics);

Sixth group, selected August 4, 1967:

(scientist-astronauts)

Selection criteria same as those for fourth group.

Joseph P. Allen IV, Ph.D. (physics);

Philip K. Chapman, Ph.D. (instrumentation) (resigned, 1972);

Anthony W. England, Ph.D. (awarded 1970, earth and planetary sciences)

(resigned, 1972);

Karl G. Henize, Ph.D. (astronomy);

Donald L. Holmquest, M.D. (took leave, 1971; resigned 1973);

William B. Lenoir, Ph.D. (engineering);

John A. Llewellyn, Ph.D. (chemistry) (resigned 1968);

F. Story Musgrave, M.D.;

Brian T. O'Leary, Ph.D. (astronomy) (resigned, 1967);

Robert A. R. Parker, Ph.D. (astronomy); and

William E. Thornton, M.D.

Seventh group, selected August 14, 1969:

(transferred from the canceled Air Force Manned

Orbiting Laboratory [MOL] project)

Maj. Karol J. Bobko, USAF;

Lt. Comdr. Robert L. Crippen, USN;

Maj. C. Gordon Fullerton, USAF;

Maj. Henry W. Hartsfield, Jr., USAF;

Maj. Robert F. Overmyer, USMC;

Maj. Donald H. Peterson, USAF; and

Lt. Comdr. Richard H. Truly, USN.

Capsule Communicators ("CapComs")

All information transmitted to a spacecraft by voice during a mission was passed

up by the capsule communicator or "CapCom." CapComs were picked from the

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

astronaut corps so that they would be familiar with the spacecraft and the mission and would understand procedures.

Following is a list of CapComs for the Apollo missions.

Apollo 7: Stafford, Evans, Pogue, Swigert, Young, Cernan.

Apollo 8: Collins, Mattingly, Carr, Armstrong, Aldrin, Brand, Haise.

Apollo 9: Roosa, Evans, Worden, Conrad, Gordon, Bean.

Apollo 10: Duke, Engle, Lousma, McCandless.

Apollo 11: Duke, Evans, McCandless, Lovell, Anders, Mattingly, Haise, Lind,

Garriott, Schmitt.

*Apollo 12: Carr, Gibson, Weitz, Lind, Scott, Worden, Irwin.

Apollo 13: Kerwin, Brand, Lousma, Young, Mattingly.

Apollo 14: Fullerton, McCandless, Haise, Evans.

Apollo 15: Allen, Fullerton, Henize, Mitchell, Parker, Schmitt, Shepard, Gordon, Brand.

Apollo 16: Peterson, Fullerton, Irwin, Haise, Roosa, Mitchell, Hartsfield,

England, Overmyer.

Apollo 17: Fullerton, Overmyer, Parker, Allen, Shepard, Mattingly, Duke,

Roosa, Young.

*Four civilian non-astronauts served as backup CapComs on this mission: Dickie K. Warren, James

O. Rippey, James L. Lewis, and Michael R. Wash.

380
Appendix 6

Accumulated Time in Space for American Astronauts:

Mercury through Apollo

Total hours

Astronaut in spaces Missionsb

James Lovell 715 GT-7, GT-12, A-8, A-13

Eugene Cernan 553.32 GT-9, A-10, A-17

John Young 533.6 GT-3, GT-10, A-10, A-16

Charles Conrad 506.8 GT-5, GT-11, A-12

Frank Borman 477.58 GT-7, A-8

James McDivitt 338.95 GT-4, A-9

Richard Gordon 315.88 GT-11, A-12

David Scott 298.88 GT-8, A-15

Walter Schirra 295.22 MA-8, GT-6A, A-7

Thomas Stafford 290.27 GT-6A, GT-9, A-10

Edwin Aldrin 289.82 GT-12, A-11

Jack Schmitt 288.9 A-17

Ron Evans 288.9 A-17

James Irwin 288.2 A-15

Alfred Worden 288.2 A-15

Michael Collins 266.07 GT-10, A-11

Ken Mattingly 265.9 A-16

Charles Duke 265.9 A-16

Donn Eisele 260.15 A-7

Walter Cunningham 260.15 A-7

Alan Bean 244.6 A-12

Gordon Cooper 225.24 MA-9, GT-5

Alan Shepard 216.29 MR-3, A-14

Edgar Mitchell 216.03 A-14

Stuart Roosa 216.03 A-14

Neil Armstrong 205.98 GT-8, A-11

Fred Haise 142.9 A-13

John Swigert 142.9 A-13

Edward White 97.93 GT-4

Virgil Grissom 5.12 MR-4, GT-3

Scott Carpenter 4.93 MA-7

John Glenn 4.92 MA-6

a Liftoff to splashdown.

b A, Apollo; GT, Gemini-Titan; MA, Mercury-Atlas; MR, Mercury Redstone (suborbital).

Source: Astronautics and Aeronautics, annual summaries of space flights; Apollo mission

reports.

381
APPENDIX 7

CREW TRAINING AND SIMULATIONS*

Even before Project Mercury began, the value of high-fidelity simulation as a

training procedure was well established through aircraft flight experience. But

whereas aircraft pilots can obtain much of their training during actual flights, the

crews for space missions must receive all their training in flight tasks before the

mission, because a manned space flight is fully committed to its entire mission

at liftoff and the crew must be proficient in all anticipated flight operations at

the time of launch. Aircraft experience was used in the development of the first

space flight simulator, the Mercury Procedures Simulator; subsequent programs

drew heavily on experience in actual space flights to design the simulators.

Lack of experience with the environmental factors of space flight gave rise to

considerable concern in the early stages of Project Mercury; hence training concentrated on acclimating astronauts to the high acceleration forces of launch and

reentry, zero-gravity conditions, heat, noise, and spacecraft tumbling. Once it

was established that crews could perform normally under these conditions, subsequent training programs focused more narrowly on the complexities of operating the spacecraft systems.

For Project Apollo (and Gemini before it) a very large effort was devoted to

the development of simulators that would duplicate as closely as possible the

sights, sounds, and sensations of space flight. It was not possible to produce all

these effects simultaneously—in particular, zero gravity or weightlessness could

not be sustained for any length of time on earth—hence simulators were broadly

divided into two classes: moving-base, in which the crew station could be moved

to simulate expected conditions, and fixed-base, in which no motion was imparted

to the crew. An outstanding example of a moving-base simulator was the lunar

landing training vehicle (see Chapter 9), a free-flying device providing six degrees

of freedom and designed to approximate the performance of the lunar module

in its final approach to landing on the moon in reduced gravity. Others included

the translation and docking simulator, the dynamic crew procedures simulator,

and the lunar landing research facility, which allowed training for specific phases

of a mission ("part-task trainers"). Most of the astronauts' training time, however, was spent in the fixed-base command module simulator (CMS) and the lunar

module simulator (LMS).

Both the CMS and the LMS were built around mock-ups of the respective spacecraft, fully equipped with controls and displays, crew couches, and storage com-

*This discussion is based primarily on NASA Technical Note TN D-7112, "Apollo Experience

Report—Simulation of Manned Space Flight for Crew Training," by C. H. Woodling, Stanley Faber,

John J. Van Bockel, Charles C. Clasky, Wayne K. Williams, John L. C. Mire, and James R. Homer,

March 1973.

382 r^
Appendix 7

partments as nearly like the mission-specific spacecraft as possible.* An elaborate

optical system projected realistic out-the-window scenes for each stage of the mission, using either films or hand-made mock-ups photographed by high-resolution

television cameras. (The preparation of three-dimensional scale models of the lunar

surface for use in the simulators was a factor that had to be considered in meeting an assigned launch date.) For solving navigation problems, a star field was

projected in the field of vision showing all stars of magnitude 5 or less that

appeared in the vicinity of the stars used for determining the spacecraft's position. Switches and controls were designed to have exactly the same "feel" as

flight articles and produced responses exactly like those that would be generated

during a mission. The CMS system was controlled by four large digital computers

and a program of 750,000 words. The analogous LMS required three computers

and a 600,000-word program. At the computer control panels, instructors could

create every conceivable type of emergency for the astronauts to cope with.

Because two or more crews might be in training at the same time, three command module simulators were provided, one at the Manned Spacecraft Center

and two at Kennedy Space Center, where astronauts spent much of their last

few weeks of preparation before flight. One lunar module simulator was located

at each center. At the height of preparations for Apollo 11 some 175 contractor

personnel worked on the development and control of the simulator software; 200

more were assigned to hardware operations and maintenance.

Not only the crews, but also the flight controllers who manned the consoles

in the Mission Control Center (MCC) had to become proficient in real-time

management of all the systems involved in a flight. Much of their training was

conducted independently of the crew, using computer-generated "math models."

In the later stages of preparation Mission Control and the spacecraft simulators

(either or both) were linked in integrated network simulations requiring both crews

and flight controllers to respond to normal and contingency situations. The time

devoted to these integrated simulations varied with the complexity of the mission and with experience (see Table 4, following).

Besides their use in crew and flight controller training, the spacecraft simulators were invaluable in working out new operational procedures. During Apollo

13, for example, procedures improvised by flight control teams were checked in

real time by astronauts in the simulators before being sent to the crew in the crippled spacecraft.

Zero-gravity training was accomplished in two ways. Short periods (up to about

40 seconds) of partial to null gravity can be achieved in an airplane by flying what

was called a "Keplerian trajectory --a carefully defined parabolic path during

part of which centrifugal force offsets gravity. An Air Force KC-135 (the military

version of the Boeing 707), structurally reinforced to take the strain of these maneuvers, flew regular missions during which critical operations were evaluated in

*In the early days of the project, details of spacecraft design changed so rapidly that it was difficult

to keep the simulators up to date. At one point during training for the first manned mission (AS-204),

Gus Grissom became so disgusted with the discrepancies between the simulator and the spacecraft

that he hung a lemon on the trainer. Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979),

p. 209.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

zero gravity. The alternative method used the buoyant effect of water. By attaching weights to various parts of the body of a suited astronaut it was possible to

achieve "neutral buoyancy" in a large tank. Many tasks were rehearsed and procedures modified in the neutral-buoyancy facilities at MSC and at Marshall Space

Flight Center. The method had the advantage of providing all the time needed;

its major disadvantage was that it was less realistic than the aircraft flights on

account of the viscosity of the water, which hampered movement. Still, it had

its place in zero-gravity training, and astronauts generally found that it gave a

conservative estimate of the difficulty of a task. Anything that could be done in

the neutral-buoyancy tank could usually be done in space.

Lunar surface simulations were conducted at a site off to one corner of the

Manned Spacecraft Center, where a few acres of ground had been pocked with

craters and strewn with rocks and gravel to simulate the moon's surface. Here

astronauts checked out deployment of the lunar surface experiments and practiced sampling. No attempt was made to approximate the reduced gravity of the

moon, although NASA engineers devised a suspension system that offset fivesixths of the astronaut's weight, which was valuable for evaluating techniques

of locomotion and manipulation.

Field geology was another important phase of astronaut training. No terrestrial site duplicates the lunar surface, but the rugged conditions expected to be

found on the moon have many counterparts on earth. Among the areas visited

by astronauts and their instructors were the Grand Canyon in Arizona; volcanic

areas in Iceland, Mexico, New Mexico, Alaska, and Hawaii; and the Ries Crater

area in West Germany. Each site had specific features applicable to lunar geology, and each provided the opportunity to conduct surface operations analogous

to those to be used on the moon.

Besides such "hands-on" rehearsal of mission operations, astronauts sat

through many hours of classroom-type work—lengthy briefings on the spacecraft

systems, principles of propulsion, guidance and navigation, and orbital mechanics.

They also spent many a day in design reviews, crew compartment fit-and-function

reviews, and all the other reviews that punctuated the progress of spacecraft from

design to delivery and played important roles in the formulation of flight plans.

This discussion does not by any means exhaustively cover the effort that went

into simulation and training, but it may indicate the complexity of the simulation

program and its importance to the Apollo project. The tables that follow give an

indication of the amount of time required to prepare for lunar missions.

384
Appendix 7

Table 1. Apollo Astronaut Training SummaryType of Training No. of

hours

Type of Training No. of

hours

Simulator Special Purpose

Command module Lunar science 11,408'

Command module simulator 17,605 Water immersion facility checkout 1,248

CM procedures simulator 1,204 Stowage 993

Simulator briefings 1,195 Extravehicular mobility unit checkout 919

Contractor evaluations 866 Egress 820

Dynamic crew procedures simulator 741 Bench checks 802

Other simulators 156 Walkthroughs 719

Rendezvous and docking simulator 87 Medical 601

Centrifuge 58 Water immersion facility (zero gravity) 516

MIT hybrid simulator 48 Planetarium 448

Subtotal 21,960 Fire 174

TOTAL 18,698

Lunar module

LM simulator 13,317`

Lunar landing training vehicle 1,130°

LM procedures simulator 770

Simulator briefings 533 Briefings

Full mission engineering simulator 179

Translation & docking simulator 64 Command and service module 4,060

Subtotal 15,993 Guidance and navigation 2,397

Lunar module 2,130

TOTAL 37,953 Lunar topography 1,458

Procedures Launch vehicle 656

Mission techniques 2,730 Photography 405

Checklist 2,334

Flight plan 1,987 TOTAL 11,106

Mission rules 1,039

Design, acceptance 1,011

Test reviews 814 Spacecraft tests Team meetings 541

Training meetings 393

Rendezvous 288 Command and service module 3,332

Extravehicular contingency transfer 88 Lunar module 1,759

Flight readiness reviews 48 TOTAL 5,091

TOTAL 11,273 PROGRAM TOTAL 84,071

Includes briefings, geology field trips, lunar surface simulations, and lunar roving vehicle trainer operation.

6 Related to zero-gravity Flight operations.

r Includes lunar roving vehicle navigation simulator.

d Includes lunar landing training vehicle Flights (2 hr. per Bight), vehicle systems briefings, lunar landing research facility, and lunar landing

training vehicle time.

'Tables 1 through 4 adapted from C. H. Woodling et al., "Apollo Experience Report-Simulation of Manned Space Flight for

Crew Training," NASA TN D-7112, March 1973.

Fable 2. Apportionment of Training According to Mission Type

Missions before

first lunar landing

Early lunar

landing missions

Final lunar

landing missions`

Training Percent of Percent of Percent of

Category Hours total Hours total Hours total

Simulators 11,511 36 15,029 56 11,413 45

Special purpose 4,023 13 5,379 20 9,246 36

Procedures 7,924 25 2,084 8 1,265 5

Briefings 5,894 18 3,070 11 2,142 9

Spacecraft tests 2,576 8 1,260 5 1,255 5

Total 31,928 100 26,822 100 25,320 100

+ Apollo 7, 8, 9, 10.

6 Apollo 11, 12, 13, 14

< Apollo 15, 16, 17.

385
APPENDIX 8

THE FLIGHT OF APOLLO 13*

Apollo 13, the third manned lunar landing and exploration mission, had been

tentatively scheduled in July 1969 for launch in March 1970, but by the end of

the year the launch date had been shifted to April. In August 1969 crew assignments for Apollo 13 were announced: James A. Lovell commanded the prime

crew, which included Thomas K. Mattingly II as command module pilot and Fred

W. Haise as lunar module pilot. Their backups were John Young, John Swigert,

and Charles Duke. The target for the mission was the Fra Mauro Formation, a

site of major interest to scientists, specifically a spot just north of the crater Fra

Mauro, some 550 kilometers (340 miles) west-southwest of the center of the moon's

near side.

On March 24, 1970, during the countdown demonstration test for Apollo 13,

KSC test engineers encountered a problem with an oxygen tank in the service

module. The spacecraft carried two such tanks, each holding 320 pounds (145

kilograms) of supercritical oxygen. They provided the oxygen for the command

module atmosphere and (along with two tanks of hydrogen) three fuel cells, which

were the spacecraft's primary source of electrical power. Besides power, the chemical reaction in the cells produced water, which not only supplied the crew's drinking water but was circulated through cooling plates to remove heat from certain

critical electronic components. The tanks were designed to operate at pressures

of 865 to 935 pounds per square inch (psi) (6,000 to 6,450 kilopascals) and temperatures between -340°F and +80°F (-207°C to +27°C). Inside each spherical

tank were a quantity gauge, a thermostatically controlled heating element, and

two stirring fans driven by electric motors. The fans were occasionally operated

to homogenize the fluid in the tank; it tended to stratify, leading to erroneous

quantity readings. All wiring inside the tank was insulated with Teflon, a

fluorocarbon plastic that is ordinarily noncombustible. Each tank was fitted with

a relief valve designed to open when the pressure rose above 1,000 psi (6,900

kilopascals); the tanks themselves would rupture at pressures above 2,200 psi

(15,169 kilopascals) . Both tanks were mounted on a shelf in the service module

between the fuel cells and the hydrogen tanks.

The countdown demonstration test called for the tanks to be filled, tested, and

then partially emptied by applying pressure to the vent line, thus forcing oxygen

out through the fill line. Number one tank behaved normally in this test, but number two released only 8 percent of its contents, not 50 percent as required. Test

"This narrative is based primarily on three sources: AIAA Paper No. 70-1260, by Glynn S. Lunney

(one of the three flight directors on Apollo 13) , "Discussion of Several Problem Areas During the

Apollo 13 Operation," presented at the AIAA 7th Annual Meeting and Technical Display, Houston,

Texas, Oct. 19-22, 1970; NASA, "Report of Apollo 13 Review Board," June 15, 1970; and "Apollo

13 Technical Air to Ground Voice Transcription," April 1970. See also the published House and Senate hearings cited in notes 75 and 79, Chapter 11.

386
Appendix 8

engineers decided to proceed with the rest of the test and investigate the problem later. The next day, after KSC engineers had discussed the problem with

colleagues at MSC, North American Rockwell (builders of the service module),

and Beech Aircraft (manufacturers of the oxygen tanks), they tried emptying the

tank again, with no success. Further talks led to the conclusion that the tank probably contained a loose-fitting fill tube, which could allow pressure to escape without emptying the tank.

When normal procedures again failed to empty the tank, engineers decided

to use its internal heaters to boil off the contents and applied direct-current power

at 65 volts to the heaters. This was successful but slow, requiring eight hours

of heating. It was then decided that if the tank could then be filled normally it

would not cause a problem in flight. A third test gave the same result as the second, requiring heating to empty the tank.

In view of the difficulty of replacing the oxygen shelf—a job that would take

at least 45 hours—and the possibility that other components might be damaged

in the process and the launch delayed for a month, NASA and contractor officials decided not to replace the tanks.

The spacecraft was launched on April 11, 1970, and the mission was quite routine

for the first two days. At 30 hours and 40 minutes after launch (30:40 ground

elapsed time, or g.e.t.), the crew ignited their main engine to put the spacecraft

on a hybrid trajectory, a flight path that saved fuel in reaching the desired lunar

landing point.* At 46:40"* the crew routinely switched on the fans in the oxygen

tanks briefly. A few seconds later the quantity indicator for tank number two went

off the high end of the scale, where it stayed. The tanks were stirred twice more

during the next few hours; and at 55:53, after a master alarm had indicated low

pressure in a hydrogen tank, the Mission Control Center (MCC) directed the

crew to switch on all tank stirrers and heaters. Shortly thereafter the crew heard

a loud "bang" and felt unusual vibrations in the spacecraft. Mission controllers

noticed that all telemetry readings from the spacecraft dropped out for 1.8 seconds.

In the CM, the caution and warning system alerted the crew to low voltage on

d.c. main bus B, one of two power distribution systems in the spacecraft. At this

point command module pilot Jack Swigert told Houston, "Hey, we've had a

problem here. "

Because of the interruption of telemetry that had just occurred, flight controllers

in the MCC had difficulty for the next few minutes determining whether they

were getting true readings from the spacecraft sensors or whether the sensors

had somehow lost power. Before long, however, both MCC and the crew realized that oxygen tank number two had lost all of its contents, oxygen tank number one was slowly losing its contents, and the CM would soon be out of oxygen

and without electrical power. Among the first actions taken were shutting down

one fuel cell and switching off nonessential systems in the CM to minimize power

consumption; shortly after, the second fuel cell was shut down as well. When

*The "hybrid" trajectory was designed so that if the main propulsion engine failed, the attitudecontrol rockets on the spacecraft could change the flight path enough to bring it back to a safe reentry

after it rounded the moon.

**This and all subsequent times are in hours and minutes g.e.t. Launch time was 12:13 p.m. Eastern Standard Time on April 11.

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

the remaining oxygen ran out, the CM would be dead; its only other power source

was three reentry batteries providing 120 ampere-hours, and these had to be

reserved for the critical reentry period.

An hour and a half after the "bang," MCC notified the crew that "we're starting to think about the lifeboat"—using the lunar module (LM) and its limited

supplies to sustain the crew for the rest of the mission. Plans for such a contingency had been studied for several years, although none had anticipated a situation as grave as that of Apollo 13. Many of these studies were retrieved and their

results were adapted to the situation as it developed.

Shortly after the accident, mission commander James Lovell reported seeing

a swarm of particles surrounding the spacecraft, which meant trouble. Particles

could easily be confused with stars, and the sole means of determining the

spacecraft's attitude was by locating certain key stars in the onboard sextant.

Navigational sightings from the LM were difficult in any case as long as it was

attached to the command module, and this would only complicate matters. Flight

controllers decided to align the lunar module's guidance system with that in the

command module while the CM still had power. That done, the last fuel cell and

all systems in the command module were shut down, and the crew moved into

the lunar module. Their survival depended on this craft's oxygen and water supplies, guidance system, and descent propulsion engine (DPS) . Normally all course

corrections were made using the service propulsion system (SPS) on the service

module, but flight controllers ruled out using it, partly because it required more

electrical power than was available and partly because no one knew whether the

service module had been structurally weakened by the explosion. If it had, an

SPS burn might be dangerous. The DPS would have to serve in its place.

When word got out that Apollo 13 was in trouble, off-duty flight controllers

and spacecraft systems experts began to gather at MSC, to be available if needed.

Others stood by at NASA centers and contractor plants around the country, in

touch with Houston by telephone. Flight directors Eugene Kranz, Glynn Lunney, and Gerald Griffin soon had a large pool of talent to help them solve problems as they arose, provide information that might not be at their fingertips, and

work on solutions to problems they could anticipate farther along in the mission.

Astronauts manned the CM and LM training simulators at Houston and at

Kennedy Space Center, testing new procedures as they were devised and modifying them as necessary. MSC director Robert R. Gilruth, Dale D. Myers, director

of manned space flight, and NASA administrator Thomas O. Paine were all on

hand at Mission Control to provide high-level authority for changes.

Soon after the explosion, the assessment of life-support systems determined

that although oxygen supplies were adequate, the system for removing carbon

dioxide (CO,) in the lunar module was not. The system used canisters filled with

lithium hydroxide to absorb CO Z as did the system in the command module.

Unfortunately the canisters were not interchangeable between the two systems,

so the astronauts were faced with plenty of capacity for removing COZ but no

way of using it. A team in Houston immediately set about improvising a way

to use the CM canisters, using materials available in the spacecraft.

Flight controllers, meanwhile, were addressing operational problems. Their first

critical decision was to put the crippled spacecraft back on a free-return trajec388
Appendix 8

tory, which was accomplished by firing the LM descent engine at 61:30. Mission

Control then had some 18 hours to consider the remaining problems; the next

was a possible course adjustment to change the spacecraft's landing point on earth.

If this was to be done, it was scheduled for "PC + 2"—two hours after pericynthion (closest approach to the moon), after the spacecraft emerged from behind

the moon. In the interval, Houston worked out a new flight plan that would minimize the consumption of oxygen, water, and electricity while keeping vital systems operating.

The alternatives for the PC + 2 maneuver were worked out by about 64 hours

g.e.t. A major consideration was the total time to splashdown. Left on its freereturn course the command module would return at about 155 hours g.e.t. to

a landing in the Indian Ocean. Three options would bring it back in the midPacific and could reduce the total mission time to as little as 118 hours. The fifth

possibility returned the spacecraft in 133 hours, but to the South Atlantic. For

one reason or another, all but one of these choices were discarded. The free-return

(no course correction) choice was abandoned, since there was no known reason

not to use the LM descent propulsion system. Recovery in either the Atlantic or

the Indian Ocean was far from ideal; the main recovery force was deployed in

the mid-Pacific and there was not enough time to move it or to make adequate

arrangements elsewhere. Two options giving the shortest return time (118 hours)

had other drawbacks. Both would require using virtually all of the available propellant, and it was not prudent to assume that no additional course corrections would

be required. One of them involved jettisoning the service module, which would

expose the CM heat shield to the cold of space for 40 hours and raise questions

about its integrity on reentry. After five and a half hours of weighing the choices

and their consequences, flight directors met with NASA and contractor officials

and presented their findings and recommendations. The decision, made some

ten hours before the scheduled engine burn, was to go for mid-Pacific recovery

at 143 hours.

During all of these deliberations the atmosphere in the lunar module was gradually accumulating carbon dioxide as the absorbers in the environmental control

system became saturated. Members of MSC's Crew Systems Division devised

a makeshift air purifier by taping a plastic bag around one end of a CM lithium

hydroxide cartridge and attaching a hose from the portable life-support system,

allowing air from the cabin to be circulated through it. After verifying that this

jury rig would function, they prepared detailed instructions for building it from

materials available in the spacecraft and read them up to the crew. For the rest

of the mission the improvised system kept the CO, content of the atmosphere

well below hazardous levels.

The decision to recover in the Pacific fixed the time line for the remainder of

the mission and imposed some rigid constraints on preparations for reentry. The

final course correction had to be made with the LM engine; command module

systems had to be turned on and the guidance system aligned; the service module had to be discarded; and when all preparations had been made, the lunar

module would be cut loose. In all these preparations the power available from

the CM's reentry batteries was a limiting factor. From the PC + 2 burn until about

35 hours before reentry the sequence of activation of CM systems was worked

389
Where No Man Has Gone Before

out, checked in the simulators, and modified. Fifteen hours before beginning reentry the revised sequence of activities was read to the crew, to give them time to

review and practice it.

The husbanding of expendable resources, particularly electrical power, paid off

on the morning of landing, when it was discovered that power reserves in the

LM were adequate to allow use of it in the CM. Some of the early CM activities

could then be done at a less hurried pace. The Apollo 13 command module

splashed down within a mile of the recovery carrier with about 20 percent of its

battery power remaining. Three weary, chilled astronauts came aboard the U.S. S.

Iwo Jima on April 17 and were flown to Hawaii for an emotional reunion with

their families.

Mission Control teams and their hundreds of helpers were no less drained. The

usual cigars were lighted up after recovery, but the splashdown parties that evening were subdued: most of those who went quit early and went home to bed.

Their efforts were recognized the next day when President Richard M. Nixon,

on his way to Hawaii, stopped in Houston to present the Presidential Medal of

Freedom, the nation's highest civilian award, to the entire team.

NASA immediately convened an investigation board* to determine the cause

of the accident and postponed Apollo 14 until its results were in. Lacking the

spacecraft itself—the service module had been jettisoned before reentry, and the

crew had been able to take only a few rather poor photographs of it—the board

initially had only the data from inflight telemetry to work with. When it became

clear that the fault lay in oxygen tank number two, the board carefully reviewed

its entire history, from fabrication to launch, as recorded in the detailed documentation that followed every piece of equipment from plant to launch pad. Under

the board's direction, MSC and other NASA centers conducted tests under simulated mission conditions to verify its findings. The investigation, which concluded

in a few weeks, turned up a highly improbable sequence of human error and

oversight that led inexorably to the failure in flight.

Board Chairman Edgar M. Cortright, director of Langley Research Center,

explained the board's findings to congressional committees in June. The accident,

he reported, was not a random malfunction but resulted from an unusual combination of mistakes as well as "a somewhat deficient and unforgiving design."

As the board's report reconstructed the events leading up to the accident, the

tank left Beech Aircraft's plant on May 3, 1967, after passing all acceptance tests.

It was installed as part of a shelf assembly in service module no. 106 on June

4, 1963, having passed all tests conducted at North American Rockwell during

assembly. Design changes in the service module, however, necessitated removing the entire shelf from SM 106 for modification. During removal, which was

accomplished by use of a special fixture that fit under the shelf to lift it upward,

*Board members were: Edgar M. Cortright, director, Langley Research Center, chairman; Robert

F. Allnut, assistant to the administrator, NASA Hqs.; Neil Armstrong, MSC; John F. Clark, director,

Goddard Space Flight Center; Brig. Gen. Walter R. Hedrick, Jr. , Hqs. USAF; Vincent L. Johnson,

deputy associate administrator for engineering, Office of Space Science and Applications; Milton Klein,

manager, AEC-MASA space nuclear propulsion office; and Hans M. Mark, director, Ames Research

Center.

390
ORIGINAL PAGE IS

OF POOR QUALITY Appendix 8

workmen overlooked one bolt that held down the back of the shelf, with the result

that the removal fixture broke, dropping the shelf two inches. The board concluded that this incident might have jarred loose a poorly fitting fill tube. Subsequent tests did not detect any flaws, and after modification the shelf was shipped

to Kennedy Space Center for installation in SM 109, the Apollo 13 spacecraft.

What was not known was that this oxygen tank was fitted with obsolete thermostatic switches protecting its heating elements. Original specifications for the

switches called for operation on 28 volts d.c.; in 1965 this was changed to 65 volts

d.c. to match the test and checkout equipment at the Cape. Later tanks conformed

to the new specifications, but this one, which should have been modified, was

not, and the discrepancy was overlooked at all stages thereafter.

Arrangement of fuel cells and cryogenic systems in bay 4.

391
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Blowout disc Closeout cap

Supply Fan

line----► Tempe motor

400

sensor

Thermostat

n

° °

°°

° °

a

° °

° ° Heater 4 °° °

p Capacitance ° ° °

°

To fuel gage

00 °

°

cell/ECS

?

o

°O° °

InsulationO °

° °

° °

° ° °° Fan

' °° motor

Pressure 0 0

Pressure switch 0 0

transducer

Relief Closeout cap

valve

^-^Overboard

Oxygen tank no. 2 internal components.

In a normal checkout of a normal tank, this would not have mattered, because

the switches would not have opened during normal operation. But the improvised procedure used when this tank failed to empty (the result of a loose fitting,

as noted above) raised the temperature in the tank above 80°F (27°C) , at which

point the switches opened. Tests conducted during the investigation showed that

the higher current produced by the 65-volt power source caused an arc between

the contact points as they separated, welding them together and preventing their

opening when the temperature dropped. This went undetected during the detanking procedure at the Cape; it could have been noticed if anyone had monitored

392
Appendix 8

the heater current, which would have shown that the heaters were operating when

they should not have been. But all attention was on the specific malfunction, and

no one was aware that the heaters were on continuously for eight hours on two

separate occasions. The result, as tests showed, was that the heater tube reached

1,000°F (538 °C) in spots, damaging the Teflon insulation on the adjacent fan-motor

wiring and exposing bare wire. From that point on, the board concluded, the

tank was hazardous when filled with oxygen and electrically powered. Teflon

can be ignited at a high enough temperature in the presence of pure oxygen, and

the tank contained small amounts of other combustibles as well.

Unfortunately for Apollo 13, the tank functioned normally for the first 56 hours

of the mission, when the heaters and the fans were energized during routine operations. At that point an arc from a short circuit probably ignited the Teflon, and

the rapid pressure rise that followed either ruptured the tank or damaged the

conduit carrying wiring into the tank, expelling high-pressure oxygen. The board

could not determine exactly how the tank failed or whether additional combustion occurred outside the tank, but the pressure increase blew off the panel covering that sector of the service module and damaged the directional antenna,

causing the interruption of telemetry observed in Houston. It also evidently

damaged the oxygen distribution system, or the other oxygen tank, as well, leading to the loss of all oxygen supplies and aborting the mission.

The board pointed out that although the circumstances of the tank failure were

highly unusual and that the system had worked flawlessly on six successful missions, Apollo 13 was a failure whose causes had to be eliminated as completely

as possible. It recommended that the oxygen tanks be modified to remove all combustible material from contact with oxygen and that all test procedures be

thoroughly reviewed for adequacy.

Compared to the AS-204 fire in 1967, Apollo 13 was only a frightening nearmiss, and because its cause was localized and comparatively easy to discover,

it had fewer adverse effects on the program. Only the skill and dedication of

hundreds of members of the often-celebrated "manned space flight team" saved

it, however, and the accident served to remind NASA and the public that manned

flight in space, no matter how commonplace it seemed to the casual observer,

was not yet a routine operation. The same lesson had to be learned once more

sixteen years later, when on January 28, 1986, the space shuttle Challenger and

all seven of its crew were lost a minute after launch. An unforgiving design and

the failure of human judgment under pressure combined again to bring a program to a halt while corrective measures were taken.

393
BIBLIOGRAPHIC ESSAY

The primary source material for the present history was the large collection of

documents from the Apollo project maintained, at this writing (1987), in the

History Office at the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center (JSC) in Houston. More

than 31,000 documents collected by the JSC historian over a 20-year period occupy

nearly 150 linear meters of shelf space in more than 775 document boxes.

Most of these documents came from the "reading files" of JSC engineers and

managers. For the most part they are copies of the letters, memoranda, and telexes

generated in the management of the Apollo spacecraft project at JSC. Original

documents will not be found in this collection; they constitute "record copies,"

which by law must be retired to Federal Archives and Records Centers—in the

case of JSC, that in Ft. Worth, Texas—whence they may be recalled through the

records management office at JSC. Thus the History Office collection is an unofficial "historian's source file" rather than an archive. Besides correspondence, these

files contain NASA and contractor reports, working papers, minutes of meetings, and other types of documentation. They have been supplemented over the

last 20 years with copies of documents obtained from NASA Headquarters and

other NASA centers by the compilers of the Apollo chronology and the authors

of Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft. Storage space was always

at a premium, and earlier researchers culled the documentation and discarded

a considerable amount of material. The basic arrangement of all the Apollo files

is chronological, mainly because the documents were in chronological order when

they reached the History Office.

By far the largest part of this collection was obtained from the Apollo Spacecraft Program Office at JSC, which directed the design, construction, and testing

of the two Apollo spacecraft (command/service module and lunar module). These

documents deal largely with the development of the spacecraft themselves, but

they contain at least some papers from every organizational element of the project: mission planning and analysis, lunar landing site selection, flight planning,

astronaut training, testing programs, etc.

Smaller collections in the historian's source file, separate from the main Apollo

chronological file, include:

• 130 boxes of documents pertaining to individual Apollo missions, from the first

unmanned test flight of the spacecraft to the last manned lunar mission, Apollo

17. The collection includes premission planning documents, press kits, flight

plans, transcripts of onboard and air-to-ground communications, crew debriefings, mission reports, mission science reports, and flight controller logs. The

comprehensiveness of these documents varies from mission to mission.

• 30 boxes of documents related to the planning and execution of the scientific

experiments conducted during the Apollo missions, in earth and lunar orbit

and on the lunar surface.

• 18 boxes of documents on the construction and operation of the Lunar Receiving Laboratory at JSC, from 1964 to 1978, and 1 box relating to the establishment of the Lunar Science Institute.

394
Bibliographic Essay

• 22 boxes of miscellaneous documentation on the command/service module and

the lunar module, including systems handbooks, operating manuals, and photographic documentation of individual spacecraft.

• 7 boxes of documents on the lunar landing research vehicle and the lunar landing training vehicle, covering development and operations.

• A small collection of documents on astronaut training, mostly training schedules for specific missions but including outlines of early training programs.

• JSC Apollo Spacecraft Project Office weekly reports, 1962-1966.

• Apollo program quarterly status reports, 1962-1968.

• Apollo working papers and Apollo experience reports. Working papers document the data and assumptions on which mission plans were constructed;

experience reports, written after the program was completed, document problems and solutions and lessons learned from the Apollo program.

• Apollo feasibility study proposals (1960) and contractor reports on the feasibility studies, 1960-1961.

• Audio tapes of oral history interviews with more than 300 participants in the

Apollo program—NASA and contractor personnel—taken in 1969-1970, plus

transcripts of about two-thirds of the tapes.

• A complete collection of Apollo mission reports, plus an Apollo program summary report, containing most of the technical data on each mission.

The most important part of the program not represented in the History Office

files is the biomedical. JSC's Life Sciences Directorate has compiled its own historical files, which are presently housed in the Historical Research Center of the Houston Academy of Medicine-Texas Medical Center library, 1133 M. D. Anderson

Blvd., Houston, Texas 77030, where they may be consulted by qualified

researchers.

The chronological arrangement of the Apollo files makes an index almost

indispensable, and part of the historian's task under the contract which supported

the writing of this volume was the preparation of an index. Each document in

the Apollo files is individually entered in a computer-stored index, except for occasional folders or boxes that were indexed as a unit (e.g., a series of periodic

reports). The index entry contains the date of the document, its originator, its

title or subject, the name of the person who signed it, and its location (box number) in the file. Using remote terminals in the History Office, the user can rapidly

search the entire file in a variety of ways (e.g., by date, originator, subject, or

combinations of these categories) and obtain printouts of the retrieved entries.

A printout of the complete index, available in the History Office, include tabulations of the number of documents by originator and by subject. This can be useful for quick surveys of the files or for manual searches.

A guide to the Apollo files, available for use in the JSC History Office, includes

a more detailed description of the indexing system and an inventory of the Apollo

collection. The JSC History Office does not have adequate full-time staff to provide extensive assistance or to conduct document searches, but those who wish

to use the files on site can be given some guidance. Arrangements to use the JSC

History Office files can be made through the History Office Coordinator, Management Analysis Office, mail code BY, NASA Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center,

Houston, Texas 77058.

395
Where No Man Has Gone Before

The value of this documentation is highly variable, as might be expected from

the manner in which it was collected. On the whole it represents topics that were

important to the Apollo spacecraft program manager at JSC, which encompassed

much but by no means all of the Apollo program. More than three-fourths of

this material in the Apollo chronological collection originated at JSC or at NASA

Headquarters; more than one-third of it is related to four parts of the Apollo project that were the principal concern of JSC: the command and service modules,

the lunar module, mission planning and analysis, and test facilities, procedures,

and results. In other areas it is sketchy, as in the workings of the Astronaut Office

and details of astronaut training.

The chronological arrangement of the files is the major impediment to their use.

Correspondence on any given topic is not correlated, except in cases where a secretary collected and copied important background correspondence in a particular

case. The index is extremely useful, but it is only a "first cut," limited by the

time and funds available for its preparation; cross-referencing, for example, was

not attempted. Prior letters, memos, etc., cited in documents can be checked

against the index but often are not in the files. Where earlier correspondence is

attached, the index entry includes a notation to that effect, but the attached documents are not indexed at the primary entry.

The other major collections (Missions, Lunar Science, and Lunar Receiving

Laboratory) were more useful in preparing this history. Documentation of the

individual missions is extensive, though variable from mission to mission. It

usually includes pre- and postmission documentation, such as flight plans and

mission reports; transcripts of inflight communications; press briefings conducted

before, during, and after the flights; crew debriefings; and flight directors' logs.

Mission files also contain a great deal of material provided to the press by contractors as well as official documentation. The science-related documents seem

to have come from the reading files of JSC's director of science and applications,

and the science side of the lunar program is well documented, as is the evolution

and operation of the lunar receiving laboratory.

Other resources available to researchers at JSC include similar but less voluminous collections for other manned space flight projects (Mercury, Gemini, Skylab,

and Apollo-Soyuz). These are housed in the Woodson Research Center (WRC)

of the Fondren Library at Rice University in Houston. Under a custodial agreement between Rice and JSC, JSC retains title to the documents while WRC is

responsible for their care and preservation and makes them available to qualified

researchers. WRC has prepared guides to these collections and is in the process

of indexing them in a system compatible with the Apollo index. Arrangements

to use these collections can be made through the Woodson Research Center, Fondren Library, Rice University, P.O. Box 1892, Houston, Texas 77001.

The Lunar and Planetary Institute, located adjacent to JSC, has a large technical library devoted to lunar and planetary science. Most of the LPI's holdings

are technical in nature, e.g., lunar sample information catalogs, excerpts from

transcripts of air-to-ground communications relating to lunar sample collection

and documentation. It has a few useful Apollo documents, including collections

of minutes of meetings of the Apollo Site Selection Board, 1966-1972, and the

Science Working Panel, 1970-72.

396
Bibliographic Essay

Besides these primary documents, the JSC History Office holds a large collection of important secondary sources. This includes a near-complete series of congressional authorization hearings, plus other congressional documents, such as

staff reports and a few appropriations hearings, for the period 1958-1972. Another

useful source is the weekly publication called Current News, a daily compilation

of clippings from the national press related to space programs put out by the Office

of Public Affairs at NASA Headquarters. For the space flight historian Current

News serves as a kind of reader's guide to press coverage of major events and

an indicator of the state of public opinion concerning the space program. Most

of the references to newspaper articles in the notes in this volume were taken

from Current News, supplemented where possible by consultation of the files of

important newspapers available in local libraries.

Oral history interviews with key participants in the Apollo program provided

details and insights not often available in the formal documentation. Many of

the 300-odd interviews in the JSC History Office files were taken while Apollo

was still in progress, many of them before the first lunar landing, and are almost

"real-time" discussions of the problems encountered during the program. These

interviews were taken by earlier historians with different questions in mind, and

consequently they were not as useful for the present work as they might have

been. The present author, working more than 10 years after Apollo ended, found

fewer of those participants easily accessible within the constraints of his contract

but was able to record interviews with a few of them. Their recollections frequently

lacked detail because of the passage of time but sometimes yielded information

on attitudes and relationships that were useful in reconstructing how and why

things happened as they did.

The History Office at Headquarters has a large collection of material on all

aspects of the space program. Its holdings are described in History at NASA, NASA

HHR-50 (Washington, June 1986), available from the History Office, mail code

XH, NASA Headquarters, Washington, D.C. 20546. The official files of Headquarters program and project offices have been retired to the Federal Archives

and Records Center at Suitland, Maryland. They can be recalled through the History Office in Headquarters, which has an inventory of these holdings. For the

scientific aspects of Apollo the papers of Homer E. Newell, associate administrator for space science and applications from 1961 to 1967, were most useful.

Newell's own inventory of these documents is more informative than most. Copies

of pertinent documents from the Newell files were added to the JSC collection

by the present author.

Most of the secondary literature on Project Apollo deals with the accomplishment of the primary objective, the first lunar landing. Considerably less has been

published on the second phase of the project, lunar exploration.

The classic study of the origin of Project Apollo is John M. Logsdon's The Decision to Go to the Moon: Project Apollo and the National Interest (Cambridge, Mass.:

MIT Press, 1970), which deals in detail with the domestic and international political climate in which President John F. Kennedy formulated his challenge to the

nation to send people to the moon and back "before this decade is out." An important recent effort to set the entire manned space flight program in a global (and

internal American) political context is Walter A. McDougall's ... The Heavens and

397
Where No Man Has Gone Before

the Earth: A Political History of the Space Age (New York: Basic Books, Inc., 1985).

The role of Congress, particularly the House of Representatives space committee, is well covered in Toward the Endless Frontier: History of the Committee on Science

Technology, 1959-79, (Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1980), written by Ken Hechler, a Ph.D. historian and member of the committee for 18 years.

Other accounts of the manned space flight program include John Noble Wilford,

We Reach the Moon (New York: Bantam Books, 1969); Hugo Young, Bryan Silcock, and Peter Dunn, Journey to Tranquility (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday and

Co., 1970); and Richard S. Lewis, Appointment on the Moon: The Inside Story of

America's Space Venture (New York: Viking Press, 1968). Lewis's The Voyages of

Apollo: The Exploration of the Moon (New York: Quadrangle Press, 1974) covers

some of the same ground as the present volume, discussing each of the Apollo

lunar landing missions and its scientific results. Henry S. F. Cooper, space correspondent for The New Yorker magazine, has written some good journalistic

accounts of the Apollo project in Apollo on the Moon (New York: Dial Press, 1969)

and Moon Rocks (New York: Dial Press, 1970).

Apollo's two accidents, the fatal AS-204 spacecraft fire and the aborted mission of Apollo 13, were the subjects of popular books. The tragedy of Apollo 204

is covered in Murder on Pad 34, by Eric Bergaust (New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons,

1968), a sensationalized book that is far from objective. Henry Cooper's 13: The

Flight That Failed (New York: Dial Press, 1973) is an hour-by-hour account of the

near-disastrous flight of Apollo 13. Detailed accounts of these grim milestones,

including the reports of NASA's investigating boards, are found in published

hearings of House committees: U.S. Congress, House Subcommittee on NASA

Oversight, Investigation into Apollo 204 Accident, 90th Cong., 1st sess. (hereafter

9011) (Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1967) (3 vols.) , and House

Committee on Science and Astronautics, The Apollo 13 Accident, 9112 (Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1970).

NASA's own publications comprise the most complete historical treatments of

manned space flight projects now available. A basic chronological reference, based

largely on journalistic sources, is the annual series starting with Astronautics and

Aeronautics, 1963: Chronology on Science, Technology, and Policy, which now covers

the years 1963-1977. Chronologies of individual projects include James M. Grimwood, Project Mercury: A Chronology, NASA SP-4001 (Washington, 1963); James

M. Grimwood and Barton C. Hacker, with Peter Vorzimmer, Project Gemini Technology and Operations: A Chronology, NASA SP-4203 (Washington, 1969); and The

Apollo Spacecraft: A Chronology, NASA SP-4009 (vol. I, by Ivan D. Ertel and Mary

Louise Morse, 1969; vol. II, by Mary Louise Morse and Jean Karnahan Bays, 1973;

vol. III, by Courtney G. Brooks and Ivan D. Ertel, 1976; vol. IV, by Courtney

G. Brooks, Roland W. Newkirk, and Ivan D. Ertel, 1978). These chronologies,

based largely on NASA documentation, were compiled during research on project histories.

NASA has published histories of all the projects that contributed to the accomplishment of the lunar landing. Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., James M. Grimwood, and

Charles C. Alexander, This New Ocean: A History of Project Mercury, NASA SP-4201

(Washington, 1966), gives a full account of the early years of the space age and

of NASA along with the development of Project Mercury itself. The second

manned space flight project, Gemini, is treated in Barton C. Hacker and James

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Bibliographic Essay

M. Grimwood, On the Shoulders of Titans: A History of Project Gemini, NASA SP-4203

(Washington, 1977), which focuses much more narrowly on the project itself. The

Saturn launch vehicles and the launch facilities built at Kennedy Space Center

are treated in Roger E. Bilstein, Stages to Saturn: A Technological History of

Apollo/Saturn Launch Vehicles, NASA SP-4206 (Washington, 1980), and Charles

D. Benson and William Barnaby Faherty, Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch Facilities and Operations, NASA SP-4204 (Washington, 1978).

Development of the spacecraft for lunar missions is covered in Courtney G.

Brooks, James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for Apollo: A

History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft, NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979), which takes

the Apollo story through the first lunar landing and foreshadows the subject matter of the present volume in an epilogue. Chariots concentrates on spacecraft and

mission planning and deals only sketchily with the scientific side of the project.

Besides the official histories, NASA has published Apollo Expeditions to the Moon,

Edgar M. Cortright, ed., NASA SP-350 (Washington, 1975), a collection of essays

written by many of the prominent participants in Apollo. This profusely illustrated volume is a good overview of the program, from conception to completion, for a nontechnical audience.

NASA's space science program is well covered in Homer E. Newell, Beyond

the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science, NASA SP-4211 (Washington, 1980).

Several of Newell's chapters are required reading for anyone interested in the

complexities of cooperation between government agencies and outside

researchers. Newell speaks with authority, having been NASA's director of space

science and applications from 1962 to 1967. Although he does not discuss manned

space projects in detail, Newell deals with the problems of coordinating Gemini

and Apollo with the scientific community outside the space agency and with the

highly independent Office of Manned Space Flight and its Manned Spacecraft

Center. Some of the same questions are covered in the context of a specific project by R. Cargill Hall in Lunar Impact: A History of Project Ranger, NASA SP-4210

(Washington, 1977). Much of the unmanned scientific exploration of the moon

was done at the Jet Propulsion Laboratory; Clayton R. Koppes's JPL and the American Space Program: A History of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1982) is an excellent source on these projects as well

as on the management of space science programs. The unmanned Lunar Orbiter

project, specifically designed to support Apollo, is the subject of Bruce K. Byers's

Destination Moon: A History of the Lunar Orbiter Program, NASA TM X-3487

(Washington, 1977).

The Space Science Board of the National Academy of Sciences was the official

source of advice and recommendations to NASA from the outside scientific community. Four publications contain the major recommendations concerning the

Apollo science program: A Review of Space Research, report of the summer study

conducted at the State University of Iowa, National Academy of Sciences-National

Research Council Publication 1079 (Washington, 1962); Space Research: Directions

for the Future, report of the summer study at Woods Hole, Mass., NAS-NRC Publication 1403 (Washington, 1966); NASA 1965 Summer Conference on Lunar Exploration and Science (Falmouth study), NASA SP-88 (Washington, 1965); and 1967

Summer Study of Lunar Science and Exploration (Santa Cruz study), NASA SP-157

(Washington, 1967). The general question of NASA's relations with its outside

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Where No Man Has Gone Before

scientific advisory groups has been examined in two monographs: Charles M.

Atkins, "NASA and the Space Science Board of the National Academy of

Sciences," NASA Historical Note HHN-62, 1966, and Pamela Mack, "NASA and

the Scientific Community: NASA-PSAC Interactions in the Early 1960s," (unpublished), 1978. An interesting examination of the relationships between government and the scientific community generally is Daniel S. Greenberg's The Politics

of Pure Science (New York: New American Library, 1967).

To date, the only NASA insiders to have published accounts of their experiences

are several astronauts. Their stories are anecdotal but nonetheless worth reading

for insights into the astronauts' side of the manned projects. The best and the

most serious of these memoirs is Michael Collins's Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut's

Journeys (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1974). Others include R. Walter

Cunningham's The All-American Boys (New York: The MacMillan Company, 1977),

and Brian T. O'Leary's The Making of an Ex-Astronaut (New York: Houghton

Mifflin, 1971). O'Leary, an astronomer picked in the second group of scientistastronauts in 1966, discovered that he had no taste for flying airplanes and

resigned from the program a few months after entering it, which somewhat vitiates his claim to be an "ex-astronaut." His book is highly critical of NASA's treatment of scientists in the astronaut program.

Notably lacking in the literature of lunar exploration is any summary of the

scientific results of Apollo. This is hardly surprising, for the data from the lunar

samples and the emplaced instruments were voluminous and complex, and since

only six sites were sampled, extrapolations to the moon as a whole are not likely

to be conclusive. The technical literature is staggering in volume. Papers presented

at the first eight annual Lunar Science Conferences fill three large volumes each,

and more has been published in the scientific journals. The Lunar and Planetary

Institute in Houston maintains a computerized bibliography of lunar and planetary science containing some 23,000 entries, of which it is estimated that half deal

with lunar science.

It is likely to be years before any consensus emerges among scientists as to the

details of the formation and evolution of the moon. Even so, two scientists have

undertaken to summarize the gross features of the moon's geological history on

the basis of the Apollo data: S. Ross Taylor, who participated in the analysis of

the lunar samples, has published Lunar Science: A Post-Apollo View (New York:

Pergamon Press, Inc., 1975), and Harrison H. Schmitt, the only scientist to get

to the moon in Apollo, who presented a summary to an international symposium in 1974, published in The Soviet-American Conference on Cosmochemistry of the

Moon and Planets, edited by John H. Pomeroy and Norman J. Hubbard, NASA

SP-370 (Washington, 1977). Scientific conclusions recorded in the present volume were taken largely from these two sources.

Congressional documents are useful sources for historians of the space program. The Space Act of 1958 required NASA to obtain authorizing legislation for

its appropriations, and in annual hearings before House and Senate subcommittees NASA officials summarized the agency's progress during the past year and

its plans for the coming year, usually in great detail. Besides these published hearings, reports on specific aspects of the programs were frequently prepared by

committee staffs. Especially useful for the lunar science program are the annual

400
Bibliographic Essay

authorization hearings before the House subcommittees on manned space flight

and space science and applications for fiscal years 1965 through 1969.

From 1958 to 1969 NASA submitted a Semiannual Report to Congress summarizing accomplishments of the past six months. A broader view of the nation's space

program, encompassing the activities of all government agencies conducting programs in space, is found in the annual Aeronautics and Space Report of the President, compiled until 1972 by the National Aeronautics and Space Council and

thereafter by NASA.

The author conducted interviews with several participants in the Apollo program and made use of interviews taken by researchers for earlier history projects

and filed in the JSC History Office. The major utility of these interviews was to

provide details that were sometimes not recorded in documents and to provide

explanation of technical points that were not clear. Occasionally they supplied

insights from an individual's peculiar point of view.

Persons interviewed by the author:

Alan L. Bean, April 10, 1984, Houston;

Eugene A. Cernan, April 6, 1984, Houston;

Noel W. Hinners, March 16, 1984, Washington;

Joseph P. Kerwin, March 29, 1985, Houston;

Robert O. Piland, October 9, 1984, Houston;

Paul E. Purser, March 10, 1983, Houston;

Harrison H. Schmitt, May 30, 1984, Houston;

John R. Sevier, April 24, 1986, Houston;

Eugene M. Shoemaker, March 17, 1984, Houston;

Donald K. Slayton, October 15, 1984, Houston.

Interviews taken by researchers on earlier projects:

William O. Armstrong, interviewed by Ivan D. Ertel and James M. Grimwood,

January 24, 1967;

Alex J. Dessler, interviewed by Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., May 26, 1971 (not transcribed);

John H. Glenn, Jr., interviewed by Robert B. Merrifield, March 15, 1958;

Wilmot N. Hess, interviewed by Robert B. Merrifield, November 7, 1968;

Elbert A. King, Jr., interviewed by Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., May 29, 1971 (not

transcribed);

Wendell W. Mendell, interviewed by Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., February 11, 1971;

Russell L. Schweickart, interviewed by Peter Vorzimmer, May 1, 1967;

Donald K. Slayton, interviewed by Robert B. Merrifield, October 17, 1967;

Paul J. Weitz, interviewed by Charles D. Benson, August 19, 1975.

401
Index

INDEX

A

AAAS. See American Association for the

Advancement of Science

AAP See Apollo Applications Program

Abelson, Philip H., 9-10

AC-Delco Electronics, 213

Air Force Flight Test Center, 59

Aldrin, Edwin E., Jr., 'Buzz"

on the moon, 142-47, 149, 164, 185, 188,

211

quarantine, 153, 155

selection and training, 136-37, 139-42

Alfred P. Sloan Foundation, 10

Allen, Joseph P. IV, 219, 235-36, 238

ALSEP. See Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments

Package

America (Apollo 17), 249, 252

American Association for the Advancement of

Science (AAAS), 155, 171, 194

Ames Research Center, 95, 96

Anders, Edward, 190

Anders, William A., 133

Anderson, Clinton P., 10

Antares (Apollo 14), 206-11

Apollo 5, 114

Apollo 6, 114

Apollo 7, 132, 136, 206

Apollo 8, 124, 137, 139, 206

lunar orbit, 113, 124, 132-34

Apollo 9, 137, 139, 164, 193, 206

operations, 124, 136

Apollo 10, 136, 137, 139, 141, 142, 163, 164

crew training and operations, 124, 136,

137-39

Apollo 11, vi, 203, 219

accomplishments and results, 1, 16, 155,

158, 169, 177, 188, 193, 238,

258, 262, 265

biological isolation garments, 187

crew selection, 136

landing site, 75, 160, 162, 164, 165, 170,

188, 214, 217

launch plans, 125, 157

lunar samples, 147-51, 152, 172, 174, 189,

190-91, 211, 222

lunar surface experiments, 166-67, 205

mission planning, 126

on the moon, 142-47

quarantine, 151-52, 153, 223

significance, 156

training, 139, 142

Apollo 12, vii, 193, 198, 205, 209, 243, 261

crew selection and training, 164

landing site, 75, 161, 165-67, 199, 206, 214,

217

launch schedule, 156, 157-58

lunar samples, 188-89, 190, 211, 222

mission planning, 174-75

on the moon, 177-86

quarantine, 223

Apollo 13, 175, 178, 204-5, 386-93

abortion, vii-viii, 177, 199, 206

crew selection, 167-68, 219

landing site, 177, 191, 196-98, 214, 217

launch schedule, 156, 157-58

quarantine, 223

Apollo 14, 159, 203, 221, 233, 244

crew selection, 168, 219

landing site, 177, 199, 204, 214, 217-19,

223

on the moon, 206-9

training, 220

Apollo 15, 242, 244, 246, 247, 248, 249, 259,

261

cancellation, 204-5, 218, 220, 243

crew selection, 219, 221

landing site selection, 214, 217-18

lunar rover, 227-31

on the moon, 231-40

redesignation,202

sample analysis, 240-42

Apollo 16, 159, 211, 247, 249

crew selection, 221

landing site selection, 214, 217-19, 244

on the moon, 245-46

redesignation, 202

Apollo 17, vii, 211, 213, 255, 259, 267

crew selection, 220, 221, 242

landing site selection, 214, 219, 247-49

on the moon, 249-52

quarantine, 223

redesignation,202

sample analysis, 253, 256

Apollo 18, 211

cancellation, 202

landing site selection, 214, 217

Apollo 19, 211

cancellation, 202, 205, 218, 220

landing site selection, 214

Apollo 20, 211

cancellation, 196, 201

landing site selection, 214

Apollo Applications Program (AAP),

experiments, 69

funding, 86, 101, 102

plans, vi, 67, 87, 97, 100, 135-36, 196

program office, 103

Apollo fire, vii, 91-94, 95-96, 102, 113, 135

Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package

(ALSEP), 84-85, 134. See also Lunar Surface Experiments Package; early Apollo

scientific experiments package (EASEP)

development problems, 95-96, 115

management, 86, 87

utilization, 162, 166-67

Apollo Program Office, 103, 193

Apollo Lunar Exploration Office, 103, 130

P4 403

^ L^__INTENTIONALLY RUNT(
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Apollo Site Selection Board

Apollo 12, 188

Apollo 16, 244

Apollo 17, 247, 249

establishment, 78

function, 80, 89, 126-27, 160, 163, 164-65,

214-15

Apollo-Soyuz Test Project, 255

Apollo Spacecraft Program Office, 86

Armstrong, Neil A.

lunar landing, 209, 265, 142-43

on the moon, 142-47, 150, 155, 165, 182,

188, 211, 253

quarantine, 151-52, 153

scientific observation, 185, 267

selection, 65, 137

training, 139-42, 164

asteroids, 29

Astronaut Office, 59, 69-70, 220, 243

astronaut selection, 20, 22, 36, 40, 55-72,

367-81

age limit, 60

Apollo 9, 136

Apollo 10, 136

Apollo 11, 136

Apollo 12, 164, 167-68

Apollo 13, 167-68, 219

Apollo 14, 168-219

Apollo 15, 219-20, 221

Apollo 16, 221

Apollo 17, 220, 221, 242

"Excess Eleven," 136

"The Fourteen," 69, 136

Gemini, 61-65, 69, 135, 164, 193

"Next Nine," 69

"Original Seven," 55-56, 63, 69

scientist-astronauts, 16, 23, 31, 55, 57-58,

62, 65-72, 135-36, 167-69, 193, 266-69

astronaut training, vii, 23, 36, 55-72, 135-39,

382-85

Apollo 11, 139-42

Apollo 12, 164

scientific instruction, 19, 22, 40, 57-58,

60-63, 99, 264

simplification, 116

test pilots, 36, 55-57

Atomic Energy Commission, 51, 105

B

back-contamination, 44-48, 50, 54, 104, 151,

268-69. See also contamination;

Interagency Committee on Back

Contamination

control, 120-24, 125, 145

Baylor College of Medicine, 106-7

Bean, Alan L., 164, 175, 178-89, 211

Bell, P.R., 105

Bell Aerosystems, 139

Bellcomm, Inc., 40, 75, 126-27, 163

Bendix Corporation, 85, 95, 115, 118

Berkner, Lloyd V., 30

biological containment, 49, 125, 150, 268

biological isolation garments, 106, 122, 174,

187

Boeing Company, 39, 213, 227

Borman, Frank, 64, 133,134

Brand, Vance D., 219

Brown & Root-Northrop, 54, 119, 151

budget, 4-5, 7-11, 194, 196, 201-4

charts, 329-330

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 42-44, 48-51,

86, 104

Ranger, 17, 50-51

reductions, 101-2, 125, 156, 193, 201-4

C

Catio, Anthony J., 174, 191, 193, 218

Cambridge Research Laboratory, 118

Cape Canaveral, 69, 79

Carr, Gerald P., 164, 178

Casper (Apollo 16), 244-45

Ceman, Eugene A.

on the moon, 249-52, 267, 269

selection and training, 136-39, 168, 220,

242-44

Chaffee, Roger B., 91-94

Cimarron, New Mexico, 62

"cold moon" theory, 29

Collins, Michael, 137, 143-47, 152, 153, 164,

265

Columbia (Apollo 11), 143-47

command and service module, 69, 74, 158. See

also command module; service module

operations, 69, 74, 137, 158, 179, 226

command module, vii, 72, 81, 265. See also

command and service module

Apollo 7, 113

Apollo 8, 133

Apollo 9, 137

Apollo 10, 139, 163

Apollo 11 (Columbia), 143-47

Apollo 12 (Yankee Clipper), 178-80, 188

Apollo 14 (Kitty Hawk), 206-7, 209, 225

Apollo 15 (Endeavour), 225, 226, 231-32,

233, 238, 240

Apollo 16 (Casper), 244-45

Apollo 17 (America), 249, 252

Block 1/1I, 114

contamination control, 47, 106, 121-23,

174, 268-69

fire, vii, 91-94, 102

lunar surface experiments package, 81

problems, 90, 132

recovery, 121, 268-69

Communicable Disease Center, 47

Congress

astronaut selection, 61, 65, 68

fire investigation, 93

funding. See budget

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 48-51

project oversight, 13

support for space programs, 131, 132,

170-71

Conrad, Charles, "Pete," Jr., 164, 175, 178-89,

191,211

404
Index

contamination, 37, 41-42, 123, 124. See also

back-contamination

Cooper, L. Gordon, Jr., 65

Cortright, Edgar M., 77

craters (lunar), 17, 27, 29, 38, 73, 77, 79, 165,

241, 260, 261

Alphonsus, 98, 100, 244, 248

Aristarchus, 98, 100

Cobra's head, 100

"Cone," 208-209

Copernicus, 98, 100, 156, 215, 217

Descartes, 209, 215, 217, 244-47, 248

exploration sites, 38, 73, 77, 79, 165

features, 27-29, 241, 260-61

Flamsteed crater, 75, 79

Kepler, 161

photographs, 17

"Snowman," 179-80

Tsiolkovsky, 259

Tycho, 156, 215, 217

Crew Systems Division, 123

crew selection. See astronaut selection

crew training. See astronaut training

CSM. See command and service module

Cunningham, R. Walter, 68, 69

D

design of spacecraft, 4, 17, 22, 25, 32, 57

Dessler, Alex J., 170-71

Directorate of Defense Research and

Engineering, 23

Douglas, Paul, 7

Douglas Aircraft Company, 88

Dryden, Dr. Hugh L., 9, 10, 17, 47, 171

Duke, Charles M., 168, 221, 245-46

dust. See lunar material

E

Eagle (Apollo 11), 142-45, 210

early Apollo scientific experiments package

(EASEP), 118, 134. See also Apollo Lunar

Surface Experiments Package

EASEP. See early Apollo scientific experiments

package

Eastman Kodak Company, 39

Edwards Air Force Base, 59

Eggleston, John E., 128, 129

Eisenhower, Dwight D., 2, 3, 4, 5, 7, 9, 85

EI-Baz, Farouk, 163

Electronics Research Center, 201

Ellington Air Force Base, 106, 147, 151

Endeavour (Apollo 15), 225, 226, 231-32, 233,

238,240

Engineering and Development Directorate

(MSC), 32, 54, 85, 86, 87

Experiments Program Office, 54, 85-86

Space Science Office, 86-87

Engle, Joe H., 168, 220, 242-43

environmental-control system, 91, 106, 123,

186

EVA. See extravehicular activity

Evans, Ronald E., 168, 220, 242, 252

extravehicular activity (EVA), 116-18, 233, 238

F

Faget, Maxime A.

astronaut training, 22

Engineering and Development Directorate

(MSC), 54, 86, 87

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 41-42, 44

surface vehicle, 100-101

Falcon (Apollo 15), 225, 231-35, 238-40, 241

Falmouth conference, 37-38, 69, 98

program definition, 76-77, 89, 264-65

recommendations, 38, 84, 332-37

fatalities, vii, 91-94

fissures, 29

Fletcher, James C., 221

Flight Research Center, 139

flight simulators, 57

Flight Systems Development division, 103

Flory, Donald A., 41-42

Foster, Willis B., 23, 42-43, 44, 103

Fra Mauro (formation), 162, 177, 191, 196-99,

204-9, 215, 217, 223, 225, 244

"free-return" trajectory, 74, 160

Fulton, James G., 49, 50

G

Gagarin, Yuri A., 5

Galileo, 27

Garriot, Owen K., 66, 69, 145

Gemini. See Project Cemini

Gemini Experiments Office, 85, 86

Gemini Program Office, 85

"Genesis rock," 237, 241-42

George C. Marshall Space Flight Center. See

Marshall Space Flight Center

Gibson, Edward G., 66, 69, 164

Gilruth, Robert R.

astronaut selection, 56, 67, 68, 71, 266

contamination control, 122, 123

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 42, 54, 103,

108, 120, 125

lunar sample distribution, 152-53, 154

lunar surface experiments, 115, 118, 159

mission planning, 130-31, 132

MSC reorganization, 85-88

NASA budget, 7

quarantine, 105-6

scientific emphasis in Apollo, 22, 33, 78,

171, 191-92, 221, 240, 263, 266

Space Task Group, 15, 59

Glenn, John H., Jr., 17

Glennan, T. Keith, 3

GLEP. See Group for Lunar Exploration

Planning

Goddard, Dr. James, 47

Goddard Institute for Space Studies, 190

Goddard Space Flight Center, 2, 4, 87, 96

Gold, Thomas, 76, 79, 202

Goodman, Clark, 53, 103

Gordon, Richard F, Jr., 164, 178-80, 187, 243

Grand Canyon, 62

Graveline, Duane M., 66-67

Griffin, Gerald D., 235, 238

Grissom, Virgil I., "Gus," 63, 65, 91-94

405
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Group for Lunar Exploration Planning (GLEP)

landing site selection, 127, 162-163, 214,

217

mission planning, 100, 130-32, 160, 167,

256,265

Site Selection Subgroup, 162, 214, 217

Grumman Aircraft Engineering Corporation,

80, 88, 158, 212

H

Hadley, 215, 217, 231-33, 236-38, 244

Haise, Fred W., 137, 167, 196, 221

Haskin, Larry A., 240-41

Henize, Karl G., 219

Hess, Harry H., 22, 43, 46, 52, 65-66

Hess, Wilmot N.

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 104, 119

mission planning, 88, 97-98, 100, 128-30,

264-65

resignation, 168, 169, 193

scientific emphasis in Apollo, 116-18, 125,

159

Hickam Air Force Base, 147, 151

highlands, lunar

contrast with maria, 242, 244, 258

features, 27, 163, 190, 222, 244-48, 260

as landing site, 77, 129, 156, 223, 237,

244-47

Hines, William, 253

Hipparchus, 162

Holmes, D. Brainerd, 8-9, 19, 22-23, 24, 32,

35,61

Houston Research Institute, 53

Hughes Aircraft Company, 165, 167

I

ICBC. See Interagency Committee on Back

Contamination

Institute for Advanced Space Study, 57

Interagency Committee on Back

Contamination (ICBC), 45, 105-6, 108, 121,

122-23, 142, 153, 154, 174, 223, 268. See

also back-contamination

Intrepid (Apollo 12), 177-88, 191, 210

Irwin, James B., 164, 219, 226, 231-40, 241,

242,267

J

Jastrow, Robert, 13, 14, 190, 257-58

Jet Propulsion Laboratory (JPL), 14,

landing site selection, 77-80, 127

Ranger, 19, 39

responsibilities, 2, 4, 17, 85

Surveyor, 39, 174

Johnson, Lyndon B., 5, 6, 25, 48, 97, 101, 125,

193

Johnson Space Center, viii. See also Manned

Spacecraft Center

Johnston, Richard S., 123, 191

JPL. See Jet Propulsion Laboratory

Jupiter, 261

K

Kapryan, Walter, 178, 231

Kennedy, John F., v-vi, 1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 17, 60,

73, 134, 262, 270

Kennedy Space Center

Apollo 11, 142, 146

Apollo 12, 175, 177

Apollo 15, 231

Apollo 16, 244

budget, 48

launch operations, 91, 109, 133, 137, 193,

255

Kerwin, Joseph P., 66-67, 69

Killian, James R., 5, 85

King, Elbert A., Jr., 41-42, 46, 100, 140-41,

168, 169, 170

Kitty Hawk (Apollo 14), 206-7, 209, 225

Kraft, Christopher C., Jr., 193

"KREEP" (potassium, rare-earth elements,

ana phosphorus), 222-223, 259

Kuiper, Gerald, 76

L

Laboratory for Theoretical Studies, 88

landing craft, 30, 74, 77, 165

landing site selection, v, 19, 20, 73, 126-29,

134, 225, 344-48

Apollo 11, 75, 160, 162, 164, 214, 217

Apollo 12, 75, 161, 164-67, 199, 206, 214,

217

Apollo 13, 177, 191, 196-98, 214, 217

Apollo 14, 204, 214, 217-19, 223, 177, 199

Apollo 15, 214, 217-18

Apollo 16, 214, 217-19, 244

Apollo 17, 214, 219, 247-49

Apollo 18, 214, 217

Apollo 19, 214

Apollo 20, 214

Lunar Orbiter, 38-40, 75-76, 77-80, 89,

126-27

Ranger, 38-40, 75-76, 77-80

Surveyor, 38-40, 75-76, 77-80

Langley Research Center, 3, 18, 39, 85, 89, 92,

139

laser retroreflector, 96, 118, 156, 205, 217, 235

launch vehicles, 134, 137, 156, 249, 263, 264,

269

Atlas-Agena B, 15

Atlas-Vega, 15

preparing, 141

problems, 14

requirements, 3, 6, 16, 17, 18, 269

Saturn I, 61, 75, 88

Saturn IB, 61, 88, 91-94, 110, 114

Saturn V, 25, 48, 61, 88-89, 94, 95, 99,

109-11, 113-14, 130, 132-33, 137, 139,

175, 178, 193, 196, 198, 201, 202, 214,

231, 240, 255

Titan 11, 63

Lee, William A., 19-20

life-support systems, 16, 38, 87, 115, 130, 137,

145, 158, 230, 235

portable, 183, 185

406
Index

Lilly, William, 48-49

Lind, Don L., 68, 69

Littrow, 204, 215

LLTV. See lunar landing training vehicle

LM. See lunar module

Lovell, James A., Jr., 64, 133, 167, 178, 196

Low, George M.

contamination control, 122-23

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 48-49, 104,

105-6

lunar samples, 152

Lunar Science Conferences, 256

management, 109, 193, 194-96

mission planning, 132

scientific emphasis in Apollo, 118

LRL. See Lunar Receiving Laboratory

LRV. See lunar roving vehicle

LSAPT. See Lunar Sample Analysis Planning

Team

LSEP. See Lunar Surface Experiments Package

LSPET. See Lunar Sample Preliminary

Examination Team

Luna, 15, 222, 246, 262

Lunar and Planetary Program Office, 15, 17,

19,21

Lunar Exploration Committee, 18

Lunar Exploration Program Office, 102-3, 130,

158, 159, 161, 163, 168

lunar landing training vehicle (LLTV), 139-40

lunar material (lunar samples), v, 134, 261-62.

See also Lunar Receiving Laboratory

analysis, 29, 124, 147-151, 163, 177,

189-91, 240-42

back-contamination, 44-48

collection. See sample collection

composition, 22

dust, 122, 123, 145, 150, 182, 184, 185, 253

management, vii, 40, 41-44, 86, 89, 103-5,

113, 172, 268-69

public interest 152-53

quarantine, 44-46, 105-9, 223, 268-69

release, 153, 154, 265

rocks, 45, 154-55, 189

security, 154-56

soil, 15, 19, 45, 108, 189, 262

lunar module

Apollo 10, 139

Apollo 11 (Eagle), 142-45, 210

Apollo 12 (Intrepid), 177-88, 191, 210

Apollo 14 (Antares), 206-11

Apollo 15 (Falcon), 225, 231-35, 238-40,

241

Apollo 16 (Orion), 244-45

Apollo 17 (Challenger), 249-50, 252

contamination control, 121-23

design and modifications, 81-82, 95, 99,

113-14, 130, 131, 158-59, 211-13, 264,

265

landing site requirements, 73-74, 79

lunar roving vehicle, 227, 229, 230, 231

maintenance, 116

modifications, 158-59, 211-13

operations, 219, 132-33, 137

piloting, 71-72, 267

test and simulation, 109, 110-11

Lunar Orbiter, 103

landing site selection, 39-40, 75, 76,

77-80, 89, 126-27, 128

photography, 39, 69, 133, 160, 163, 259

Lunar Receiving Laboratory (LRL)

budget, 42-44, 48-51, 104

certification, 142

construction, 51, 110

design, 46, 51, 52

Lunar and Earth Sciences Division, 103,

104

management, 87, 103-5, 168

operations, 108-9, 119-20, 125-26, 188-89

quarantine, 104, 105-9, 124-25, 151-52,

187, 206, 209, 223, 268-69

sample handling, vii, 110, 113, 124-26,

152, 154, 155, 173-74, 190, 268-69

simulation, 124-26

staffing, 51-54, 86, 125

Working Group, 103-4

lunar roving vehicle, 100, 225, 248, 265. See

also surface vehicles

development, 211-12, 213

operations, 227-31, 233-35, 236-38,

250-52

requirements, 77, 98-99, 100, 129-30

Lunar Sample Analysis Planning Team

(LSAPT), 150, 174, 188, 189, 191, 240, 255,

265

Lunar Sample Preliminary Examination Team

(LSPET), 150, 155, 202, 265

lunar samples. See lunar material

Lunar Science Conferences, 189-91, 222-23,

246, 255, 256-57, 258

Lunar Science Institute, 110, 194

lunar science planning teams, 37

lunar surface experiments, 21, 33-35, 80-85,

113, 115-18, 139, 244

Lunar Surface Experiments Package (LSEP),

82-83, 89, 116, 175, 225, 235. See also

Apollo Lunar Surface Experiments Package

lunar surface laboratory, 31

lunar traversing vehicle. See lunar roving

vehicle

Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center. See Johnson

Space Center

M

MacDonald, Gordon J. F., 194

Manned Space Flight Experiments Board

(MSFEB), 25, 78

Manned Space Flight Management Council,

122

Manned Space Flight Network, 80

Manned Space Science Division, 23, 31, 33,

42, 51, 70, 103

Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC),

astronaut training, 4, 61-63, 135-36

Configuration Control Board, 113

contamination control, 122-24, 125

Crew Safety Review Board, 113

407
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Crew Systems Division, 123

Experiments Coordinating Office, 85-86

Experiments Program Office, 54, 85-86

Experiments Review Group, 191

Flight Control Division, 193

flight operations, 4

Landing and Recovery Division, 121

landing site selection, 39, 76, 77, 79,

126-27, 160-63

Lunar and Earth Sciences Division, 103,

104, 105, 126-27

Lunar Exploration Program Office, 102-3,

130, 158, 159

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 48-49, 51,

52-54, 103-5, 106, 119-20, 121

lunar samples, 41-43, 46-47, 152-53, 255,

268-69

lunar surface experiments, 80-85, 115-18

mission planning, 34-35, 39, 97, 99-100,

109-10, 133-14, 129, 130, 131, 134,

158-59, 177

organizational charts, 324-28

public affairs office, 151, 152

reorganization, 59

Science and Applications Directorate, 54,

87, 103, 110, 128, 129, 217, 264

Science Working Panel, 192, 265

scientific emphasis in Apollo, 22-23, 25,

31-33,191-93,240,263-66

scientists as astronauts, 65-66, 68, 69-71,

266

spacecraft design, 4

Space Environment Division, 32, 41, 64,

75,77

Systems Engineering Division, 47

maria

collisional, 237

contrast with highlands, 242, 244, 258

as exploration sites, 38-39, 73, 128, 129,

160, 162-63, 166, 223, 241

features, 27, 29, 79, 128, 259

Mare Crisium, 260

Mare Fecunditatis, 262

Mare Humorum, 248

Mare Imbrium, 191, 198, 247-48, 260

Mare Nectaris, 179

Mare Serenitatis, 248, 249, 260

Mare Tranquillitatis. See Sea of Tranquility

Mariner, 157

Marius Hills, 215, 217

Mars, 14, 36, 37, 169, 194, 196, 203, 261, 269

Marshall Space Flight Center, 3-4, 87, 88, 100,

114, 132, 158, 213

Massachussetts Institute of Technology, 5

Instrumentation Laboratory, 18

Radiation Laboratory, 105

Materials Selection Review Board, 113

Mattingly, Thomas K. II, 167, 196, 198-99,

221,245

Maynard, Owen, 47

McCandless, Bruce 11, 145

McDivitt, James A., 64, 136, 137, 191, 193

McLane, James, 52

McLeaish, John, 152

Medical Research and Operations Directorate,

87

Mercury (planet), 196, 261

Mercury (spacecraft). See Project Mercury

meteorites, 14, 29, 150, 222, 256, 259

meteoroids, 74-75, 79, 83, 261

Michel, F. Curtis, 66-67, 69, 168

Michoud Assembly Facility, 201

Miller, George P., 203

Milwitzky, Benjamin, 161, 165

mission mode, 17-18, 20, 30, 89, 169, 269

Mississippi Test Facility, 201

Mitchell, Edgar D., 168, 207-11, 221, 223, 233

mobile isolation unit, 121

Mobile Quarantine Facility, 121, 124-25, 142,

146, 151, 175, 187, 206

moon rocks. See lunar materials

"moonquakes," 82. See also seismology

MSC. See Manned Spacecraft Center

MSFEB. See Manned Space Flight Experiments

Board

Mueller, George E.

Apollo Applications Program, 101

astronaut selection, 65, 67, 68

Congressional investigation of AS-204 fire,

93

landing site selection, 40, 78

Lunar Exploration Program Office, 102-3

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 48-50, 108,

124

lunar surface experiments, 33, 35, 82, 115

mission planning, 97, 109, 130-31, 132,

156, 157, 158-59

resignation, 193

scientific emphasis in Apollo, 24-25,

86-87, 89, 171-72, 265-66

Myers, Dale D., 193, 221

N

NAA. See North American Aviation

NACA. See National Advisory Committee for

Aeronautics

National Academy of Sciences, 31, 45, 46, 65,

68, 107, 110, 135. See also Space Science

Board

National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics

(NACA), 2, 3, 33, 56

National Aeronautics and Space Act, 2

National Defense Research Committee, 105

National Electronics Corporation, 51

National Space Council, 5

Newell, Homer E. See also Office of Space

Sciences

astronaut selection, 65, 68

budget, 11

landing site selection, 38, 73, 77-78

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 43, 103, 104

lunar surface experiments, 33, 35, 83-84

mission planning, 30-32

scientific emphasis in Apollo, 13-15, 17,

18-19, 22-23, 85, 87, 171, 192, 220-21,

263-64, 265

408
Index

Nixon, Richard M., 144, 147, 157, 178, 193,

201, 203, 225

North American Aviation (NAA), 88, 109, 113,

159

North American Rockwell, 193

Notkin & Company, 51

O

Oak Ridge National Laboratory, 51, 105

Oceanus Procellarum, 75, 79, 164, 188, 189,

222

Office of Manned Space Flight

budget, 9

contamination control, 124

extended lunar missions, 211-14

landing site selection, 39-40, 78, 130

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 48

lunar sample distribution, 152

Management Council, 212

mission planning, 65, 87, 94, 125

Office of Systems Studies, 21

organizational charts, 319-320

reorganization, 24

Science and Technology Advisory

Committee, 115, 170, 214-15

scientific emphasis in Apollo, 13, 17, 18,

23, 25, 26, 31, 35, 68, 89, 263

Office of Space Science and Applications

(OSSA)

biosciences programs, 46

budget, 101-2

landing site selection, 39, 78

Lunar and Planetary Missions Board,

101-2, 202, 214

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 52-53, 103-4,

110

lunar sample distribution, 152

Lunar Science Division, 103

lunar surface experiments, 33-34, 80

organization, 87, 89, 97

organizational charts, 321-22

Planetology Subcommittee, 52-53, 103,

118

scientific emphasis in Apollo, 35, 68, 171,

264

Space Sciences Steering Committee, 52, 78,

103,118

Office of Space Sciences. See also Office of

Space Science and Applications

Lunar and Planetary Programs Office, 21

Lunar Exploration Committee, 18

mission planning, 27, 31, 32-33

organizational chart, 323

scientific emphasis in Apollo, 13, 17,

18-19, 21-23

olivine, 150, 183, 189, 260

OMSE See Office of Manned Space Flight

Operational Readiness Inspection Board, 119

origin of the moon, 27-29, 222-23, 258-61,

331-32

Orion (Apollo 16), 244-45

OSS. See Office of Space Sciences

OSSA. See Office of Space Science and

Applications

P

Paine, Thomas O., 122, 156, 157, 193, 196,

201-2

Parker, Robert A., 219

"parking orbit," 39

Petrone, Rocco A., 193, 247

Philco Aeronutronics Division, 66

Phillips, C. Briggs, 104

Phillips, Samuel C.

Apollo 4, 109

Apollo Site Selection Board, 78

contamination control, 122, 124

landing site selection, 128, 160, 162, 163,

165

lunar surface experiments package, 95-96,

115-18

mission planning, 159

program critique, 88

reassignment, 193

sample handling, 152

PHS. See U.S. Public Health Service

Pickering, John E., 50

Pickering, William C., 19

Piland, Joseph V., 54, 103

Piland, Robert O., 54, 85-86, 88

Planetary Biology Subcommittee, 104

planetary exploration, 1, 5-6, 31, 37, 194

Planetology Subcommittee, 52-53, 103, 118

"pogo" effects, 114

President's Science Advisory Committee

(PSAC), 5, 26, 96-97, 131, 169

Project Gemini

accomplishments and conclusions, 71, 88,

89, 92, 116, 117, 136

astronaut selection and training, 61-65, 69,

135, 164, 193

earth-orbital flights, 32

purpose, 5, 25, 60

Project Mercury

accomplishments and conclusions, 7, 17,

25, 32, 58, 60, 71, 85, 92

astronaut selection, 55-56, 59, 62, 63-65

cost, 11

mission planning, 15

purpose, 3

scientific emphasis, 22

Project Ranger

budget, 77

landing site selection, 38-40, 69, 75, 76,

77-78

purpose, 2, 15, 22, 262

science on Ranger, 18, 19, 21, 26, 31

PSAC. See President's Science Advisory

Committee

Public Health Service. See U.S. Public Health

Service

pyroxene, 150, 260

409
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Q

quarantine

astronauts, 45-47, 51, 106, 151-52, 153,

187, 206, 223, 241

discontinuation, 223

lunar material, 44-47, 105-9, 223, 268-69

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 104, 105-9,

119, 124-25, 151-52, 187, 209, 223,

268-69

Mobile Quarantine Facility, 121, 124-125,

142, 146, 151, 175, 187, 206

other personnel, 51, 151, 188

policy, 46-48, 52, 54

spacecraft, 45

testing, 174

R

radiation, 46, 74-75, 79, 83

counting, 49, 51, 150

radio astronomy, 30, 31

radioisotope thermoelectric generator (RTG),

95, 96

rays, 27

recovery

contamination control, 106, 121-24, 125,

142, 268-69

simulation, 57, 63-64

reentry, 16, 61, 64, 72, 113, 114

Reiffel, Leonard, 95-96

ridges, 27

rilles, 27, 100

Davy Rille, 215, 217

Hadley Rille, 215, 217

Roberts, Walter Orr, 194

robots, v, 2

rocket-propelled piloted aircraft, 3

Roosa, Stuart A., 168, 207, 209, 221, 223

roving vehicle. See lunar roving vehicle

RTG. See radioisotope thermoelectric

generator

Rumsfelt, Donald, 48-49

S

sample collection

Apollo 11, 144-145, 169

Apollo 12, 183, 188

Apollo 14, 208-9

Apollo 15, 233-34, 236-38

Apollo 17, 230, 250-52

astronaut training, 55

lunar surface experiments, 33, 115-18

mission planning, 130

satellites, 2, 16, 36, 75

Saturn (planet), 261

Saturn rockets. See launch vehicles

Scherer, Lee R., 103, 130, 160, 168

Schirra, Walter M., Jr., 63, 65

Schmitt, Harrison H., 'Jack"

ALSEP design, 95-96, 219-20, 221,

242-43,267

landing site selection. 135

on the moon, 249, 252, 255

selection and training, 66-67, 69

Schroeter's Valley, 100

Schweickart, Russell L., 68, 69, 136, 137

Science and Applications Directorate, 54, 87,

103, 110, 128, 129, 217, 264

Science and Technology Advisory Committee,

115, 170, 214-15

scientific instrument module (SIM), 226, 231,

240

"scientist-astronaut." See astronaut selection

Scott, David R.

landing site selection, 218

on the moon, 225-26, 231-40

sample analysis, 241

selection and training, 136, 137, 267

Sea of Tranquility (Mare Tranquillitatus), 75,

164, 189

Tranquility Base, 142, 150, 155, 190-91, 222

Seamans, Robert C., Jr., 19, 30-31, 87, 96

See, Elliott M., Jr., 65

seismology, 33, 34

seismometry

Apollo 11, 155

Apollo 12, 183, 186

Apollo 13, 198, 199

Apollo 14, 208, 217

Apollo 15, 240

Apollo 16, 244

Apollo 17, 250-51

Lunar Surface Experiments Package, 82,

95, 118, 259

Ranger, 18

Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space

Sciences, 10, 50

Senate Republican Policy Committee, 9

Sencer, David J., 105-6, 122

Senior Flammability Board, 113

service module. See also command and service

module

engine failure, 74, 132-33

mishaps, 175, 245

scientific payload, 159, 231, 242, 248

Shepard, Alan B., Jr., 1, 7, 168, 207-11, 223,

233

Shoemaker, Eugene M., 21-22, 23, 32, 34, 38,

61, 65, 67, 73, 169

shuttle, ix, 194, 196, 220, 225, 243

SIM. See scientific instrument module

Simmons, Gene, 190-91, 215

Skylab, vi, 59, 157, 193, 196, 201, 202, 209,

225, 255

crew selection, 220-21

Slayton, Donald K., "Deke"

astronaut selection, 64-66, 67, 135, 136,

137, 164, 168, 219, 220-21, 242

astronaut training, 62, 68, 70-71, 135, 142

responsibilities, 59-60, 191

scientists as astronauts, 186, 266

Smithsonian Institution, 153

Society of Experimental Test Pilots, 59

solar flares, 75

Sonett, Charles P., 19. See also Sonett

committee

410
Index

Sonett committee, 19, 21, 30-31, 33, 264

Soviet Academy of Sciences, 222

Soviet Union, v, 1, 2, 5, 6, 9, 14-15, 203

Apollo-Soyuz, 255

Luna, 15, 222, 246, 262

Space and Missile Systems Organization, 193

Space Environment Division (MSC), 32, 41,

64, 75, 77

Space Science Board. See also Engineering and

Development Directorate

back-contamination, 45-47, 223, 268

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 43, 50, 52

lunar surface experiments, 33, 35

man's role in space, 5-6

mission planning, 30-31, 61, 97, 202

scientific emphasis in space program, 8,

19, 22, 264

scientist-astronauts, 65-66, 221

Space Science Division, 54, 87

Space Sciences Steering Committee, 19, 84,

104

space shuttle. See shuttle

space station, 194, 196. See also Skylab

Space Task Group, 7, 15, 56, 58, 60, 157, 194

Space Technology Laboratories, Inc., 24

Sputnik, 2, 3, 8, 22

Stafford, Thomas P., 63, 65, 136, 139

Summer Studies, 21, 34

State University of Iowa, 30-31, 32, 33, 57,

58, 61, 76, 89

University of California at Santa Cruz,

97-101, 130, 131, 158, 159, 264, 265,

337-44

surface experiments package. See Apollo

Lunar Surface Experiments Package; Lunar

Surface Experiments Package

surface vehicles, 158, 162, 212. See also lunar

roving vehicle

lunar roving vehicle, 212, 213

requirements, 77, 98-99, 100, 129-30

"rickshaw," 206, 208-9

Surgeon General, 46, 47

Surveyor (spacecraft)

Block III, 117

landing site selection, 38-40, 69, 75, 76,

77-80, 89, 161-63, 164-66, 174, 177-83,

187

lunar material analysis, 150, 258, 262

purpose, 15, 31, 39, 99

scientific emphasis, 19, 26

Surveyor/Orbiter Utilization Committee,

77-78, 79

Swigert, John L., Jr., 167, 198

Systems Engineering Division, 47

T

Taurus-Littrow, 248-49, 253, 255, 256-57

Teague, Olin, 49, 50

Technical Services Division (MSC), 206

telemetry, 2, 15, 34, 39, 82, 178

telescopes, optical, 27

test-pilots, 70, 71

as astronauts, vii, 16, 18, 55-57, 60, 167,

221, 243, 266

Texas Instruments, 81

Thompson, Floyd L., 91-92, 94

Tindall, Howard W., Jr., 165

topography of the moon, 19, 74, 77

Townes, Charles H., 221

tracking, 2, 4, 80

training astronauts, vii, 4, 22, 23, 30

Tranquility Base. See Sea of Tranquility

U

Union Carbide, 105

Urey, Harold C., 13-14, 38, 62, 73, 202, 214

U.S. Department of Agriculture, 45

U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, 45

U.S. Geological Survey

Astrogeology Branch, 21, 67

astronaut training, 62, 69

landing site selection, 78, 127-28, 214

MSC Space Environment Division, 31

Shoemaker, Eugene, 21-23

U.S. Public Health Service (PHS)

back-contamination control, 45-48, 104

biological examination of lunar samples, 43

quarantine, vii, 41, 50, 52-53, 104

U.S.S. Hornet, vi, 146-47, 151, 175, 186, 187

U.S.S. New Orleans, 209

V

Vanguard satellite project, 2

Venus, 14

Vietnam, 1, 48, 102

Viking project, 203, 269

Vingradov, Aleksandr Pavlovich, 222

Vishniac, Wolf, 107

von Braun, Wernher, 3, 196

Voyager, 102

W

Warrior Constructors, Inc., 51

Wasserburg, Gerald, 202, 240, 247, 258, 261,

262

Weaver, Warren, 10. See also Alfred P. Sloan

Foundation

Webb, James E.

Apollo prospects, 11, 25, 96-97, 270

budget, 9, 48, 101

fire investigation, 91-94

Lunar Receiving Laboratory, 110

personnel changes, 88, 109, 193

Weitz, Paul J., 164, 183

Whipple, Fred L., 170

White, Edward H. II, 64, 91-94

Wiesner, Jerome, 5

Williams Air Force Base, 67

Wise, Donald, 163, 168

Woods Hole conference, 35-38, 76, 89, 98,

129,264

411
Where No Man Has Gone Before

Worden, Alfred M.

on the moon, 226, 231-33, 238, 240, 249

selection and training, 164, 219, 242, 267

Working Group on Lunar Exploration, 14-15

Yankee Clipper (Apollo 12), 178-80, 188

Young, John W., 63, 65, 136, 139, 167, 221,

245-46

412
About The Author

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

William David Compton, born in DeLeon, Texas (1927), took B.S. and M.S.

degrees at North Texas State Teachers College and a Ph.D. at the University of

Texas. He taught chemistry at West Texas State College, Colorado School of Mines,

and Prescott College (Arizona). While at Prescott he took a year's leave to study

history of technology, earning an M.Sc. from the University of London (Imperial

College of Science and Technology) in 1972. In 1974 he was awarded a contract to

write NASA's history of the Skylab project in collaboration with Charles D.

Benson. Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab was published in 1983 as

NASA SP-4208. After three years of working for a Houston engineering consulting firm, Dr. Compton won a second contract from the Johnson Space Center to

write the present volume. He also contributed a chapter on NASA and the space

sciences to a commemorative volume, 100 Years of Science and Technology in Texas,

published in 1986 by Sigma Xi on the occasion of the society's centenary and Texas'

sesquicentennial. In 1983 he wrote the prize essay in the Dr. Robert H. Goddard

Historical Essay competition sponsored by the National Space Club of Washington, D. C.

413
The NASA History Series

HISTORIES

Anderson, Frank W., Jr., Orders of Magnitude: A History of NACA and NASA,

1915-1980 (NASA SP-4403, 2d ed., 1981).

Benson, Charles D., and William Barnaby Faherty, Moonpart: A History of Apollo

Launch Facilities and Operations (NASA SP-4204, 1978).

Bilstein, Roger E., Stages to Saturn: A Technological History of the Apollo/Saturn

Launch Vehicles (NASA SP-4206, 1980).

Boone, W. Fred, NASA Office of Delaware Affairs: The First Five Years (NASA

HHR-32, 1970, multilith).

Brooks, Courtney G., James M. Grimwood, and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr., Chariots for

Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft (NASA SP-4205, 1979).

Byers, Bruce K., Destination Moon: A History of the Lunar Orbiter Program (NASA TM

X-3487, 1977, multilith).

Compton, W. David, and Charles D. Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History

of Skylab (NASA SP-4208, 1983).

Corliss, William R., NASA Sounding Rockets, 1958-1968: A Historical Summary

(NASA SP-4401, 1971).

Ezell, Edward Clinton, and Linda Neuman Ezell, On Mars: Exploration of the Red

Planet, 1958-1978 (NASA SP-4212, 1984).

Ezell, Edward Clinton, and Linda Neuman Ezell, The Partnership: A History of the

Apollo-Soyuz Test Project (NASA SP-4209, 1978).

Green, Constance McL., and Milton Lomask, Vanguard: A History (NASA SP-4202,

1970; also Washington: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1971).

Hacker, Barton C., and James W. Grimwood, On the Shoulders of Titans: A History of

Project Gemini (NASA SP-4203, 1977).

Hall, R. Cargill, Lunar Impact: A History of Project Ranger (NASA SP-4210, 1977).

Hallion, Richard P., On the Frontier: Flight Pesearch at Dryden, 1946-1981 (NASA

SP-4303, 1984).

Hansen, James R., Engineer in Charge: A History of the Langley Aeronautical Laboratory, 1917-1958 (NASA SP-4305).

Hartman, Edwin P., Adventures in Research: A History of Ames Research Center,

1940-1965 (NASA SP-4302, 1970).

Levine, Arnold, Managing NASA in the Apollo Era (NASA SP-4102, 1982).

Muenger, Elizabeth A., Searching the Horizon: A History of Ames Research Center,

1940-1976 (NASA SP-4304, 1985).

Newell, Homer E., Beyond the Atmosphere: Early Years of Space Science (NASA

SP-4211, 1980).

Pitt, John A., The Human Factor: Biomedicine in the Manned Space Program to 1980

(NASA SP-4213, 1985).

Roland, Alex, Model Research: The National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics,

1915-1958 (NASA SP-4103, 1985).

Rosenthal, Alfred, Venture into Space: Early Years of Goddard Space Flight Center

(NASA SP-4301, 1968).

Rosholt, Robert L., An Administrative History of NASA, 1958-1963 (NASA SP-4101,

1966).

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