NASA SP-4201 


This New Ocean 


A History of Project Mercury 

Loyd S. Swenson, Jr. 

James M. Grimwood 

Charles C. Alexander 

The NASA History Series 

National Aeronautics and Space Administration 

NASA History Office 

Office of Policy and Plans 

Washington, DC 20546 

1998 
This New Ocean 

W e set sail on this new sea becau ;e there is new knowledge to 

be gained, and new rights to be won , and they must be won and 

used fo r the progress of all people. For space science, like 

nuclear science and all technolog'y, has no conscience of its own. 

Wh ether it will become a force for good or ill depends on 

man, and only if the United States occupies a position of preeminence can we help decide whether this new ocean will be a 

sea of peace or a new, terrifying th eater of war. 

.JoHN F. KENN EDY 

Rice University Stadium 

Houston, Texas 

September 12, 1962 
FOREWORD 


W HEN the Congress created the National Aeronautics and Space Administration in 1958, it charged NASA with the responsibility "to contribute 

materially to . . . the expansion of human knowledge of phenomena 

in the atmosphere and space" and "provide for the widest practicable and appropriate dissemination of information concerning its activities and the results thereof." 

NASA wisely interpreted this mandate to include responsibility for documenting 

the epochal progress of which it is the focus. The result has been the development 

of a historical program by NASA as unprecedented as the task of extending man's 

mobility beyond his planet. This volume is not only NASA's accounting of its 

obligation to disseminate information to our current generation of Americans. 

It also fulfills, as do all of NASA's future-oriented scientific-technological activities, 

the further obligation to document the present as the heritage of the future. 

The wide-ranging NASA history program includes chronicles of day-to-day 

space activities; specialized studies of particular fields within space science and 

technology; accounts of NASA's efforts in organization and management, where 

its innovations, while less known to the public than its more spectacular space 

shots, have also been of great significance; narratives of the growth and expansion of the space centers throughout the country, which represent in microcosm 

many aspects of NASA's total effort; program histories, tracing the successesand failures-of the various projects that mark man's progress into the Space 

Age; and a history of NASA itself, incorporating in general terms the major 

problems and challenges, and the responses thereto, of our entire civilian space 

effort. The volume presented here is a program history, the first in a series telling 

of NASA's pioneering steps into the Space Age. It deals with the first American 

manned-spaceflight program: Project Mercury. 

Although some academicians might protest that this is "official" history, it is 

official only in the fact that it has been prepared and published with the support 

and cooperation of NASA. It is not "official" history in the sense of presenting a 

point of view supposedly that of NASA officialdom-if anyone could determine 

what the "point of view" of such a complex organism might be. Certainly, 

the authors were allowed to pursue their task with the fullest freedom and in 

accordance with the highest scholarly standards of the history profession. They 

v 
emerges as a complex accounting of the purposes of science, technology, and 

public funding in a challenging new area of human endeavor. 

Some classical historians may deplore the short lapse of time between the 

actual events and the historical narration of them. Others may boggle at the 

mass of full documentary sources with which the Project Mercury historians 

have had to cope. There are offsetting advantages, however. The very freshness 

of the events and accessibility of their participants have made possible the writing 

of a most useful treatise of lasting historical value. Future historians may rewrite 

this history of Project Mercury for their own age, but they will indeed be thankful to their predecessors of the NASA historical program for providing them with 

the basic data as well as the view of what this pioneering venture in the Space 

Age meant to its participants and to contemporary historians. 

MELVIN KRANZBERG 

Case Institute of Technology 

Chairman, NASA Historical 

Advisory Committee 

Members: 

Lloyd V. Berkner, Graduate Research Center of the Southwest 

James L. Cate, University of Chicago 

A. Hunter Dupree, University of California at Berkeley 
 

Wood Gray, George Washington University 
 

Lawrence Kavanau, North American Aviation, Inc. 
 

Marvin W. McFarland, Library of Congress 
 

Paul P. Van Riper, Cornell University 
 

Alan T. Waterman, National Academy of Sciences 
 

VI 
CONTENTS 
 

PAGE 
 

PREFACE .. . .. . . . .... . XI 
 

Part One-Research 

CHARLES C. ALEXANDER 

I 

II 

III 

IV 

THE LURE, THE LOCK, THE KEY (To 1958) ..... . .. . . .. .. . . 

EXPLORING THE HUMAN FACTOR (1948-1958) .... .. ...... .. . 

AERONAUTICS TO ASTRONAUTICS: NACA RESEARCH (1952­

1957). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .. . . 

FROM NACA TO NASA (November 1957-September 1958) .. . 

3 
 

33 
 

55 
 

75 
 

Part Two- Development 

LOYD S. SWENSON, JR. 

v 

IX 

X 

VI 

VII 

VIII 

SPECIFICATIONS FOR A MANNED SATELLITE (October-December 
 

1958) .... ... .. ......... .. ....... ... . .... . .... .... .. . 

FROM DEVELOPMENT INTO QUALIFICATION: FLIGHT TESTS (July-


TESTS VERSUS TIME IN THE RACE FOR SPACE (January-April 
 

FROM DESIGN INTO DEVELOPMENT (January-June 1959) ..... . 

MAN-RATING THE MACHINES (July-December 1959) ..... ... . 

MACHINE-RATING THE MEN (January-June 1960) ... .. ... . . 

December 1960). . . . . . . . . . ... . ......... .. ...... . 

1961) .... . ..... .. ... ....... . . .. . .... . ..... ...... .. . . 

109 
 

133 
 

167 
 

223 
 

263 
 

303 
 

Part Three- Operations 

JAMES M. GRIMWOOD 
 

XI 

XII 

SUBORBITAL FLIGHTS INTO SPACE ........ ... .. ..... .. . ... . 

FINAL REHEARSALS ...... . .... . . ......... . . .. .. ... .... . . 

341 
 

381 
 

VII 
XIII MERCURY MISSION ACCOMPLISHED ... . .... . ..... .. .. . . ... . 411 
 

XIV CLIMAX OF PROJECT MERCURY . . .. .. .. . .. ........ .. . .. . . 461 
 

EPILOGUE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 505 
 

Footnotes, Sources and Bibliography, Appendixes, and Index 

FOOTNOTES . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 515 
 

NOTE ON SOURCES AND SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 605 
 

ApPENDIX A-FUNCTIONAL ORGANIZATION OF PROJECT MERCURY. . . . 631 
 

ApPENDIX B-WORKFLOW ORGANIZATION OF PROJECT MERCURY. . . . . 632 
 

ApPENDIX C-ORGANIZATION CHARTS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 634 
 

ApPENDIX D-FLIGHT DATA SUMMARY . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 638 
 

ApPENDIX E-PERSONNEL GROWTH . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 642 
 

ApPENDIX F-PROjECT MERCURY COST SUMMARIES. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 643 
 

ApPENDIX G - PROjECT MERCURY TRACKING NET. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 647 
 

INDEX. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 649 
 

List of Illustrations 

All photographs and illustrations are U.S. Government ones except as credited on this list. 

People in photographs are identified in the captions and referenced in the Index. 

PAGE Part I 
 

" A Voyage to the Moon," by Paul Gustave Dore (Bella Landauer Collection, 

Library 4
 of Congress) ....... .. ..... . .... . ..... .. .. . ..... . . . .... . ... . 

Action of centripetal forces, by Newton (Cajori, Sir Isaac Newton, London, 

4 1729) ........ ... .... ..... .. .. .... ........ . .. ..... .. .. .. . .. .. .... . 
 

Early 7
 aviation ......... .. .. . .. . ................. . . . .. .... .. ..... ... . 
 

X-series 12 research aircraft . .... ... . .... .... . ... . .... .. . .... .... . ... . . . . 

Goddard, 15
 pioneer of modern rocketry . .. . . . . ... . .. .. .......... . . .. .... . 
 

Oberth and key ABMA officials . . . .... . . . ........ .. . . .. .. .. . ... .. .... . 
 17

V-2jWAC Corporal 20
 launch . ... . . .. ..... ... .. ... ... .. .. . . . ..... . . . . 

vrn 
y 

Vanguard . . . . . . . . . .. .. .. . 30 
 

Space equivalence chart .. .. . 35 
 

Mercury couch . 44- 45 
 

Shadowgraph of Mercury model . .. . 60 
 

Growth of Mercury reentry configuration. 62 
 

Eggers and atmospheric entry simulator . .. . . .... . 67 
 

NACA officials testify, 1958 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . 84 
 

Mercury wind tunnel tests. . . . .. . .. . . . 88 
 

l\1ercury fligh t concept sketches .. 103 
 

Early 1958 capsule models . 104 
 

Water drop test . 105 
 

Part 11 
 

Landing impact studies . . . . 144 
 

ParachII te developmen t . . . 145 
 

Rose Knot . .. .. . 147 
 

Mockup Review Inspection, 1959 . . . . 149 
 

Glennan at Langley Research Center . . . 154 
 

Flight hardware construction . . . . . .. . 158 
 

Mercury astronauts . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... ... . 164 
 

Astronauts briefed on Redstone . . ... .. . . . .. . . . . . . .. .. .. . . . . . 173 
 

Allen briefs Space Council . ... .. . . .. . 176 
 

Mercury-Redstone schema tic . . . . . . . . . .. ..... . 186 
 

Mercury-Atlas schematic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ... ..... .. ... . ... . . . 189 
 

Whiteroom activity at McDonnell Aircraft Corp. . . . . . . .. . ....... . . . . . 192 
 

Sketch of Big Joe capsule . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .. . . . . . ... .. . . 202 
 

ASCS System. . . . . . . . . . . . .... . . 205 
 

Big Joe, Sept. 9, 1959. .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . 207 
 

Little Joe 2, Dec. 4, 1959.. .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211 
 

Tracking network map .. .. .. .. . . 219 
 

Early vs. late Mercury space suits . 229 
 

Environmental Control System . . .. .. . 233 
 

Cooper and Schirra performing engineering tasks . . . 236 
 

Mercury training devices ... . . .. .. . . .. ... . . . . . . 242-243 
 

Early vs. late Mercury instrument panels . . . . .. . 247 
 

MA-1, July 29,1960 . .. . .... . . . . . . . . .. . 277 
 

Sketch of typical Mercury-Redstone flight profile .. . . . . . . . 289 
 

MR-l, Nov. 21, 1960... . . . . . . . . ... ... . . . . ... . .. . ... . .. . . . . . .. . 295 
 

MR-1A, Dec. 19, 1960 . . . .. .. . . . . . . .. . ... .. . .. . .. . . .. .. . . . 298 
 

MR-2, Jan. 21, 1961 . . . . . . . . . . .. .. ... .. . . . . . . 317 
 

MA-2, Feb. 21 , 1961 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .. .. . 319 
 

IX 
MRBD, Mar. 24, 1961 . ....... .. .......... . 

Sketch of typical Mercury orbital mission profile. . . . . . . . . . . . . . 333 
 

MA-3, Apr. 25, 1961 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336 
 

LJ-5B, Apr. 28, 1961 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 336 
 

Part III 
 

MR-3 preflight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 344 
 

Flight of Freedom 7, May 5, 1961 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 354 
 

MR-3 debriefing. . . . . . . . . . . . . ... . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 358 
 

Presidential award. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 361 
 

MR-4 preflight. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 366 
 

Flight of Liberty Bell 7, July 21, 1961 . .. . . . . ..... . ... . . .. " .. . .. . ... 374 
 

MA-4, Sept. 13, 1961. . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 388 
 

Manned Spacecraft Center, architect's concept and aerial view ...... . .... 390-391 
 

MS-1, Nov. 1, 1961 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 396 
 

MA-5, Nov. 29, 1961 .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. .. . . . ... .... .... .. .... 402 
 

Enos cartoon (NEA). . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 408 
 

MA-6 preflight . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 417 
 

Press site No.2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 421 
 

Flight of Friendship 7, Feb. 20, 1962 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . 424-425 
 

Friendship 7 aftermath . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 437 
 

Astronauts testifying. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 438 
 

Typical preflight briefing; Mercury Control VIP viewing room . . . . . . . . . . . . 439 
 

Flight of Aurora 7, May 24, 1962 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 451 
 

Aurora 7 aftermath . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 458 
 

MA-8 preflight. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 468 
 

Kennedy at Rice University. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 471 
 

Flight of Sigma 7, Oct. 3, 1962 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 485 
 

Sigma 7 aftermath. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 489 
 

Presentation of painting of Perth. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 493 
 

Flight of Faith 7, May 15-16, 1963.. .. .. . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . .. . .... .... .. .. 498 
 

Faith 7 aftermath. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 502 
 

Apollo briefing at Cape Canaveral. . ... . . . . .... . . , , , . , .. . . .. , . . . . 510 
 

x 
PREFACE 
 

M ANKIND in the past few years has sailed on one of its greatest adventure

the exploration of near space. Men have cast off their physical and menta

moorings to Earth, and a few have learned to live in balance with their gravispher

and above their atmosphere. Transgressing old laws of terrestrial navigatio

and amending newer laws of aerodynamics, man has combined the experienc

gained from aviation and rocket technology with the science of celestial mechanics

thus to accomplish for the first time manned orbital circumnavigation. The initia

American voyages in this new epic of exploration and discovery were products o

Project Mercury, an intensive national program mobilizing creative science an

technology to orbit and retrieve a manned Earth satellite. 

This book is an attempt to describe the origins, preparation, and nature o

America's first achievements in manned space flight. Neither a history of th

National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) nor a comparativ

study of the competition in space between the United States and the Soviet Union

this narrative spans the basic events in the managerial and technological history o

Project Mercury. 

The authors have no illusions that this single volume is complete or "definitive

(if any work of history ever can be). Writing only a few years after the event

described, we inescapably suffer from short perspective, but perhaps our scholarl

myopia is balanced by our having had access to a multitude of still-dustless docu

ments and to most of the main participants in Project Mercury. Within obviou

limitations of chronology and the sensitivities of persons still active in the conques

of space, we have tried to make this narrative as comprehensive and accurate a

possible in one volume. 

Already Project Mercury has come to be regarded as a single episode in th

history of flight and of the United States. Rather, it was many episodes, man

people, many days of inspiration, frustration, and elation. Journalists and othe

contemporary observers have written millions of words, taken thousands of photo

graphs, and produced hundreds of reports, official and otherwise, on the origins

development, failures, successes, and significance of this country's first efforts i

the manned exploration of space. The foremost image of Mercury emerging from 

its mountainous publicity was that of seven selected test pilots called "astronauts.

Central as were their roles and critical as were their risks in the individual manne

flights, the astronauts themselves did not design, develop, or decide the means an

XI 
and this program history tries to blend and balance the personal, social, and technical facets of the project as it progressed. 

Endeavoring to keep fickle human memories accurate in an age that moves 

incredibly fast in too many directions, we have sought to answer unanswered questions, to answer some questions that had not been asked, and even perhaps to pose 

some questions that cannot be answered yet. \Vrittcn under sponsorship of NASA 

at its Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC) with principal reliance on a contract 

with the University of Houston, this study is, in the legal sense of the Space Act 

of 1958, an "official" history of Project Mercury. But NASA and its Historical 

Advisory Committee have wisely recognized that history should be written, taught, 

and finally judged by historians, and that the ultimate responsibility for historical 

generalizations and interpretations should rest with the authors. Accordingly, 

while we have trod circumspectly in places, we have been encouraged to arrive at 

historical judgments judiciously and independently. Thus there actually is no 

"official" NASA or MSC viewpoint on what happened. More details and 

acknowledgments on the historiography behind this work are to be found in the 

Note on Sources and Selected Bibliography at the end of the volume. 

The organization and division of labor imposed on the narrative conforms to 

its chronology, to three genres of historical literature, and to the thesis that Project 

Mercury, from its inception in the fall of 1958, was preeminently an engineering, 

rather than a scientific, enterprise. 

Part One, entitled "Research," could be called "origins" or "antecedents." 

This section on the long and complex "prehistory" of Project Mercury follows 

essentially a topical organization and might be seen as part of the external history 

of applied science. Emphasizing the contributions of individual minds and small 

groups of experimentalists, Part One recounts primarily progress in rocketry and 

research in space medicine, aerodynamics, and thermodynamics from the end of 

the Second W orId War to the inception of the first United States manned satellite 

project. The focus is on the evolutionary roles of the military services and the 

National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, organizational nucleus of NASA. 

Part Two, "Development," assumes with reason that all of the basic and most 

of the applied research necessary for undertaking a manned ballistic satellite project had been completed by October 1958. Thus the so-called research and development, or "R and D," phase of Mercury is mostly, if not entirely, "D" and corresponds to a relatively new professional interest, the history of technology. Part 

Two is a study of corporate technology in the crowded period during which the 

concurrent teamwork of previously diverse organizations drove toward placing a 

man in orbit around Earth. 

For most people directly involved in Mercury, the dramatic "space race" 

aspect of the project was secondary to the accomplishment of an almost incredibly 

complex managerial and technological endeavor. Yet the historian cannot ignore 

XII 
when men first rocketed into space. Costs, schedules, and "quality control"-the 

range of procedures designed to ensure reliability during space vehicle manufacturing and preparation for flight-were far less dramatic than the flights themselves. But the NASA Space Task Group, primarily responsible for the 

development of Mercury, had an exciting life of its own as it evolved into the 

Manned Spacecraft Center. The Mercury team was much larger than the 

Space Task Group, or even than NASA, but the focus in Part Two on the field 

managers of the project should be meaningful for anyone wishing insight into 

the enormity and intricacy of modem government-managed technological 

programs. 

Part Three, entitled "Operations," describes the fulfillment of Project Mercury 

and the only part of the program witnessed by most contemporary observers. 

This section begins with the successful suborbital fligi1~ of Astronaut Alan B. 

Shepard, Jr., in May 1961; proceeds through the completion of the orbital 

qualification of the Mercury spacecraft and the Atlas rocket; and ends with the 

four manned orbital missions, stretching from three to 22 circuits of Earth, in 

1962 and 1963. Part Three is allied with a heroic tradition, the history of 

exploration and discovery. 

Cosmonaut Yuri A. Gagarin first made a space flight around Earth on 

April 12, 1961, and four months later Gherman Titov's 17-orbit flight pushed 

the U.S.S.R. still further ahead in the cold war space competition. With American 

technological prestige damaged in the court of world opinion, the United States 

responded after Shepard's suborbital ride, when President John F. Kennedy 

proposed and an eager Congress agreed to make Mercury the first phase of an 

epochal national venture in the manned exploration of the Earth-Moon system. 

Although the Soviet Union succeeded in orbiting more space travelers, for 

longer periods, and sooner than the United States, Project Mercury still appears 

magnificently successful. It cost more money and took more time than originally 

expected, but no precaution was overlooked and no astronaut was lost. And as 

the "space race" broadened into the "space olympics," Mercury evolved from a 

"dead-end" endeavor, pointed solely at achieving orbital flight and recovery, into 

a prerequisite course in what was needed to reach and return from the Moon. 

If Mercury was not all that it might have been, it was certainly more than 

it originally was supposed to be. Less than three and a half years after its inception, its prime objectives were attained with the three-orbit flight of Astronaut 

John H. Glenn, Jr. In all, the Mercury astronauts flew two ballistic, parabolic 

flights into space and four orbital missions. Each flight went almost as well as 

planned, thereby substantially enlarging man's knowledge of near space, of his 

psychophysiological behavior beyond Earth's atmosphere, and of the impending 

requirements for cislunar travel. By June 12, 1963, when James E. Webb, the 

second NASA Administrator, announced its termination, Project Mercury had 

XIII 
This volume, therefore, represents an effort to lift out of anonymity, where 

so much of mankind's technological progress lies buried, the odyssey of the men 

who developed the means for escaping our age-old habitat. We hope to enlarge 

man's knowledge of himself by recording who did what, when, and where to 

achieve the confidence and provid~ the machines for space flight. We have aimed 

to supply a reference to the past, a benchmark for the present, and a source for 

future scholarship. Later historians will write about Gemini and Apollo, and 

about Ranger, Mariner, and other projects in space exploration by men of our 

times. But like students of Mercury, present and future, they must begin with 

an accurate record of technological achievement. In time, perhaps, Project 

Mercury may deserve more, because it was both an effect of and a cause for the 

faith, vision, and prowess necessary to explore space. 

This history of Project Mercury is, in more than the usual sense, drawn from 

the memory of many of the primary participants in the program. They provided much of the documentation upon which this narrative is based, and some 

150 of them have commented upon all or parts of a review edition before 

publication. They are not responsible, however, for the selection, organization, 

or interpretations of facts as here presented. If errors persist in this account, 

the fault lies solely with the authors. 

A different emphasis might have been pursued in this history- perhaps, for 

instance, more on the management of manned space programs. But Project 

Mercury per se is the focus herein, and as history it is meant to be read consecutively. In the launching of this history, the endorsement and support of the 

late Hugh L. Dryden, Deputy Administrator of NASA (1958-1965); Chancellor George L. Simpson of the University of Georgia System, former Assistant 

Deputy Administrator (1962-1965); and Robert R. Gilruth, Director of the 

Manned Spacecraft Center, proved instrumental. Whatever value this volume 

may have in reflecting the broader concerns of NASA Headquarters results 

largely from the contributions of Eugene M. Emme, the NASA Historian, and 

Frank W. Anderson, the Deputy NASA Historian. They have minutely read 

and criticized the draft manuscripts and coordinated the details of publication. 

Paul E. Purser, Special Assistant to the Director, Manned Spacecraft Center, 

and Allen J. Going, Chairman, Department of History, University of Houston, 

have read various phases of the draft work and suggested improvements at every 

step. Sigman Byrd and Pamela C. Johnson worked with the authors as editorial 

and research assistants in its formative stages. Ivan D. Ertel made the final index 

and basic selection of illustrations. Sally D. Gates made many invaluable editorial suggestions and comments, typed several "final" drafts, and administratively 

XIV 
Among those NASA field center historians and monitors who have been most 

helpful are David S. Akens of the Marshall Space Flight Center; Alfred Rosenthal 

of the Goddard Space Flight Center; Robert A. Lindemann and Francis E. 

Jarrett, Jr., of the Kennedy Space Center; Manley Hood and John B. Talmadge 

of the Ames Research Center; Lyndell L. Manley of the Lewis Research Center; 

and Robert W. M ulac of the Langley Research Center. 

Government-particularly Air Force-and industrial historians, librarians, 

and archivists too numerous to mention offered courteous assistance on many 

aspects of Project Mercury. William D. Putnam, Office of Manned Space Flight 

and formerly of the Air Force Space Systems Division; Max Rosenberg of the 

Air Force Historical Liaison Office; Charles V. Eppley, Air Force Flight Test 

Center; Marvin E. Hintz, Air Force Arnold Engineering Development Center; 

Green Peyton of the Air Force School of Aerospace Medicine; Michael Witunski 

of the McDonnell Aircraft Corporation; Ralph B. Oakley of North American 

Aviation; and Louis Canter of General Dynamics/Astronautics deserve special 

mention and thanks. 

At the Manned Spacecraft Center, the Public Affairs Office, under Paul P. 

Haney and Albert M. Chop, provided documentation, contract support, and 

many hours of critical reading; the Technical Library, through the efforts of 

Retha Shirkey, furnished literature; and the Technical Information Division's 

Robert W. Fricke helped immeasurably in securing documentation. 

Countless others also should be mentioned for their aid on specific questions, 

but most of them have been credited in the citations. 

L.S.S. 

J.M.G. 

C.C.A. 

January 1966 

xv 

Part One 

........................................................................................................................................................... 
 

RESEARCH 
 

IT 
 I •••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••• 

The Lure, the Lock, the Key 

(TO 1958) 

THE yearning of men to escape the confines of their Earth and to travel to 

the heavL'ns is older than the history of mankind itself. Religion, mythology, 

and literature reaching back thousands of years are sprinkled with references to 

magic carpets, flying horses, flaming aerial chariots, and winged gods. 1 Although 

"science fiction" is a descriptive term of recent vintage, the fictional literature of 

space travel dates at least from the second century A.D. Around the year 160 the 

Greek savant Lucian of Samosata wrote satirically about an imaginary journey 

to the Moon, "a great countrie in the aire, like to a shining island," as Elizabethan 

scholars translated his description 1500 years later. Carried to the Moon by a 

giant waterspout, Menippus, Lucian's hero, returns to Earth in an equally distinctive manner: The angry gods simply have Mercury take hold of his right ear and 

deposit him on the ground. Lucian established a tradition of space-travel fiction, 

and generations of later storytellers spawned numerous fantasies in which by some 

miraculous means-such as a flight of wild lunar swans in a seventeenth-century 

tale by Francis Godwin or a cannon shot in Jules Verne's classic account of a 

Moon voyage (1865-1870)-earthlings are transported beyond the confines of 

their world and into space.2 

But apparently the first suggestion, fictional or otherwise, for an artificial 

manned satellite of Earth is to be found in a short novel called "The Brick Moon," 

written in 1869 by the American Edward Everett Hale and originally serialized 

in the Atlantic Monthly. Although, like most of his contemporaries, Hale had 

only a vague notion of where Earth's atmosphere ended and where space began, 

he did realize that somewhere the "aire" became the "aether," and he also understood the mechanics of putting a satellite into an Earth orbit: 

If from the surface of the earth, by a gigantic peashooter, you could shoot a pea 

upward . . . ; if you drove it so fast and far that when its power of ascent 

was exhausted, and it should fall, it should clear the earth. . . ; if you had 

given it sufficient power to get it half way round the earth without touching, 

that pea would clear the earth forever. It would continue to rotate ... with 

the impulse with which it had first cleared our atmosphere and attraction. 

3 
Dare's mid-19th century illustration, 

«A Voyage to the Moon," captured 

man's age-old dream of lifting himself 

off Earth and venturing out toward 

our celestial neighbors, the Moon, the 

Sun, the planets, and even the stars. 

Th e action of centripetal forces as ad vanced by Isaac Newton: " That by means of 

centripetal forces the planets may be retained in certain orbits, we may easily understand, if we consider the motions of projectiles; for a stone that is projected is by the 

pressure of its own weight forced out of the rectilinear path, which by the initial 

projection alone it should have 

pursued, and made to describe a 

curved line in the air; and through 

that crooked waiis at last brought 

down to the ground; and the 

greater the velocity is with which 

it is projected, the farther it goes 

before it falls to the earth. We 

may therefore suppose the velocity 

to be so increased, that it would 

describe an arc of 1, 2, 5, 10, 100, 

1 )000 miles before it arrived at 

earth, till at last, exceeding the 

limits of th e earth, it should pass 

into space without touching it." 

4 
Hales own country would undertake a more modest and more practicable scheme 

for a manned satellite in Project Mercury. 

Centuries before Hale wrote about an orbiting manned sphere, Nicolaus Copernicus, Johannes Kepler, Galileo Galilei, and other astronomers had helped put 

the solar system in order, with the Sun in the center and the various planets, 

spherical and of different sizes, orbiting elliptically around it. Isaac Newton had 

established the basic principles of gravitation and mechanics governing reaction 

propulsion and spatial navigation. 4 Thus it was possible for Hale and his fellowfictionists to think at least half seriously about, and to describe in fairly accurate 

detail, such adventures as orbiting Earth and its Moon and voyaging to Venus. 

Most flight enthusiasts in the nineteenth century, however, were absorbed with 

the problems of flight within the atmosphere, with conveyance from one place to 

another on Earth. This preoccupation with atmospheric transport, which would 

continue until the mid-twentieth century, in many ways retarded interest in rocketry 

and space travel. But the development and refinement of aeronautics in the 

twentieth century was both a product of and a stimulant to man's determination 

to fly ever higher and faster, to travel as far from his Earth as he could. Atmospheric flight, in terms of both motivation and technology, was a necessary prelude 

to the exploration of near and outer space. In a sense, therefore, man's journey 

along the highway to space, leading to such astronautical achievements as Project 

Mercury, began in the dense forest of his atmosphere, with feats in aeronautics. 

CONQUEST OF THE AIR 

Man first ventured aloft in balloons in the 1780s, and in the next century 

gliders also bore human passengers on the air. By 1900 a host of theoreticians 

and inventors in Europe and the United States were steadily expanding their 

knowledge and capability beyond the flying of balloons and gliders and into the 

complexities of machineborne flight. The essentials of the airplane-wings, 

rudders, engine, and propeller-already were well known, but what had not 

been done was to balance and steer a heavier-than-air flying machine. 

On December 8, 1903, Samuel Pierpont Langley, a renowned astrophysicist 

and Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution, tried for the second time to fly his 

manned "aerodrome," a glider fitted with a small internal combustion engine, 

by catapulting it from a houseboat on the Potomac River. The much-publicized 

experiment, financed largely by the United States War Department, ended in 

failure when the machine plunged, with pilot-engineer Charles M. Manley, into 

the cold water.:i The undeserved wave of ridicule and charges of waste that 

followed Langley's failure obscured what happened nine days later at Kitty 

Hawk, North Carolina. There two erstwhile bicycle mechanics from Dayton, 

5 
few people realized it at the time, practicable heavier-than-air flight had become 

a reality. 

The United States Army purchased the first military airplane, a Wright Flyer, 

in 1908. But when Europe plunged into general war in 1914, competitive 

nationalism-drawing on the talents of scientists like Ernst Mach in Vienna, Ludwig Prandtl in Germany, and Osborne Reynolds in Great Britain, and of inventors 

like the Frenchmen Louis Bleriot and Gabriel Voisin-had accelerated European 

flight technology well beyond that ofthe United States.' In 1915, after several 

years of agitation for a Government-financed "national aeronautical laboratory" 

like those already set up in the major European countries, Congress took the first 

step to regain the leadership in aeronautics that the United States had lost after 

1908. By an amendment attached to a naval appropriation bill, Congress established an Advisory Committee for Aeronautics "to supervise and direct the scientific study of the problems of flight, with a view to their practical solution." 

President Woodrow Wilson, who at first had feared that the creation of such an 

organization might reflect on official American neutrality, appointed the stipulated 

12 unsalaried members to the "Main Committee," as the policymaking body of 

the new organization came to be called. At its first meeting, the Main Committee changed the name of the organization to National Advisory Committee 

for Aeronautics, and shortly "NACA" began making surveys of the state of 

aeronautical research and facilities in the country. During the Fir.st World War 

it aided significantly in the formulation of national policy on such critical problems 

as the cross-licensing of patents and aircraft production. NACA did not have 

its own research facilities, however, until 1920, when it opened the Langley 

Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory, named after the "aerodrome" pioneer, at 

Langley Field, Virginia. 8 

In the 1920s and 1930s aeronautical science and aviation technology continued to advance, as the various cross-country flights, around-the-world flights, 

and the most celebrated of all aerial voyages, Charles A. Lindbergh's nonstop 

flight in 1927 from New York to Paris, demonstrated. During these decades 

NACA brought the United States worldwide leadership in aeronautical science. 

Concentrating its research in aerodynamics and aerodynamic loads, with lesser 

attention to structural materials and powerplants, NACA worked closely with 

the Army and Navy laboratories, with the National Bureau of Standards, and 

with the young and struggling aircraft industry to enlarge the theory and technology of flight.!> The reputation for originality and thorough research that 

NACA quietly built in the interwar period would continue to grow until 1958, 

when the organization would metamorphose into a glamorous new space agency, 

the likes of which might have frightened the early NACA stalwarts. 

6 
Early 
 

AviaHon 
 

Man's liberation from the surface of Earth 

began at Kitty Hawk, N.C., on December 17, 1903, when Orville and Wilbur 

Wright made the world's first controlled, 

powered flights in a heavier-than-air machine (above). At last it was within man's 

grasp to use Earth's atmosphere as a 

means of transportation. There was much 

to learn; in the United States the National 

Advisory Committee for Aeronautics pioneered aeronautical research in the 1920s. 

Early wind tunnel research at Langley 

Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory (right) 

culminated in the fam·ous NACA cowling 

and the family of N ACA wing shapes that 

would dominate several generations of aircraft from the 1920s into the 1940s. And 

aviation finally came of age in world 

opinion with fhe epochal solo flight from 

New York to Paris by Charles E. Lindbergh, May 20-21,1927. Lindbergh and 

his plane, the ((Spirit of St. Louis," are 

shown (below, right) visiting the W ashington Navy Yard on June 11, 1927. 
and see their names on regularly published technical papers, and by the superior 

wind tunnels and other research equipment increasingly available at the Virginia 

site. NACA experimenters made discoveries leading to such major innovations 

in aircraft design as the smooth cowling for radial engines, wing fillets to cut down 

on wing-fuselage interference, engine nacelles mounted in the wings of multiengine craft, and retractable landing gear. This and other research led to the 

continual reduction of aerodynamic drag on aircraft shapes and consequent increases in speed and overall performance. 11 

The steady improvement of aircraft design and performance benefited commercial as well as military aviation. Airlines for passenger, mail, and freight 

transport, established in the previous decade both in the United States and 

Europe, expanded rapidly in the depression years of the thirties. In the year 

1937 more than a million passengers flew on airlines in the United States alone. 12 

At the same time, advances in speed, altitude, and distance, together with 

numerous innovations in flight engineering and instrumentation, presaged the 

arrival of the airplane as a decisive military weapon.l ~ 

Yet NACA remained small and inconspicuous; as late as the summer of 1939 

its total complement was 523 people, of whom only 278 were engaged in research 

actIvItIes. Its budget for that fiscal year was $4,600,000.H The prevailing mood 

of the American public throughout the thirties was reflected in the neutrality 

legislation passed in the last half of the decade, in niggardly defense appropriations, 

and in the preoccupation of the Roosevelt administration with the domestic aspects 

of the Great Depression. Without greatly increased appropriations from Congress, the military was held back in its efforts to acquire more and better aerial 

weapons. Without a military market for its products, the American aircraft 

industry proceeded cautiously and slowly in the design and manufacture of 

airframes and powerplants. And in the face of the restricted needs of industry 

and the armed services and severly limited appropriations, NACA kept its efforts 

focused where it could acquire the greatest quantity of knowledge for the smallest 

expenditure of funds and manpower-in aerodynamics. 

As Europe moved nearer to war, however, the Roosevelt administration, Congress, and the public at large showed more interest in an expanded military establishment, including military aviation. Leading figures like Lindbergh and Vannevar 

Bush, president of the Carnegie Institution and chairman of the :Nlain Committee, 

warned of the remarkable gains in aviation being made in other countries, especially in Nazi Germany.}' While the United States may have retained its aerodynamics research lead, the Germans, drawing, in part from the published findings 

of NACA, by 1939 had temporarily outstripped this country in aeronautical 

development. 

8 
nautical laboratory, named after physicist Joseph S. Ames of Johns Hopkins 

University, former chairman of the 11ain Committee, was constructed beginning 

in 1940 on land adjacent to the Navy installation at Moffett Field, California, 40 

miles south of San Francisco. The next year, on a site next to the municipal airport 

at Cleveland, NACA broke ground for still another laboratory, to be devoted 

primarily to engine research. In later years the Cleveland facility would be 

named the Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory, after George W. Lewis, for 

28 years NACA's Director of Research.Jr; 

Some nine months before Pearl Harbor, Chairman Bush of NACA appointed 

a Special Committee on Jet Propulsion, headed by former Main Committeeman 

\Villiam F. Durand of Stanford University, and including such leaders in aeronautical science as Theodore von Karman of the California Institute of Technology and Hugh L. Dryden of the National Bureau of Standards. 17 Until then 

NACA) the military services, and the aircraft industry had given little attention 

to jet propulsion. There had been little active disagreement with the conclusion 

reached in 1923 by Edgar Buckingham of the Bureau of Standards: "Propulsion 

by the reaction of a simple jet cannot complete, in any respect, with air screw 

propulsion at such flying speeds as are now in prospect." J " By 1941, however, 

Germany had flown turbojets, and her researchers were working intensively on the 

development of an operational jet-propelled interceptor. In Britain the propulsion scientist Frank Whittle had designed and built a gas-turbine engine and had 

flown a turbojet-powered aircraft. 

Faced with the prospect of European-developed aircraft that could reach 

flight regimes in excess of 400 miles per hour and operational altitudes of about 

40,000 feet, NACA gradually authorized more and more research on jet powerplants for the Army Air Forces and the Navy. Most of the NACA research 

effort during the war, however, went to "quick fixes," improving or "cleaning up" 

military aircraft already produced by aircraft companies, rather than to the more 

fundamental problems of aircraft design, construction, and propulsion. 1D So, 

understandably and predictably, during the Second World War, Germany was first 

to put into operation military aircraft driven by jet powerplants, as well as rocketpowered interceptors that could fly at 590 miles per hour and climb to 40,000 

feet in two and a half minutes. :?o The German jets and rocket planes came into 

the war too late to have any effect on its outcome, but the new aircraft caused 

consternation among American aeronautical scientists and military planners. 

The Second World War saw, in the words of NACA Chairman Jerome C. 

Hunsaker, "the end to the development of the airplane as conceived by Wilbur 

and Orville Wright.":?l Propeller-driven aircraft advanced far beyond their 

original reconnaissance and tactical uses and became integral instruments of 

strategic warfare. The development of the atomic bomb meant a multifold 

9 
the United States and the Soviet Union produced a remarkable acceleration in the 

evolution of the airplane. Jet-propelled interceptors, increasingly rakish in 

appearance by comparison with their staid propeller-driven ancestors, flew ever 

faster, higher, and farther.23 Following the recommendations of a series of blueribbon scientific advisory groups, the Defense Department and the newly independent Air Force made the Strategic Air Command, with its thousands of huge 

manned bombers, the first line of American defense in the late forties and early 

fifties. 2 

-l To many people the intercontinental bomber, carrying fission and (after

1954) hydrogen-fusion weapons, capable of circumnavigating the globe nonstop 

with mid-air refueling, looked like the "ultimate weapon" men had sought since 

the beginning of human conflict. 

Working under the incessant demands of the cold-war years, NACA continued 

to pioneer in applied aeronautical research. By 1946 the NACA staff had grown 

to about 6800, its annual budget was in the vicinity of $40 million, and its facilities 

were valued at more than $200 million. Although Chairman Hunsaker and 

others on the Main Committee felt that NACA's principal mission should be inquiry 

into the fundamentals of aeronautics, the military services and the aircraft industry 

continued to rely on NACA as a problem-solving agency. The pressure for "quick 

fixes" persisted as the Korean War intensified requirements for work on specific 

aircraft problems. 2

" 

The outstanding general impediment to aeronautical progress, however, continued to be the so-called "sonic barrier," a region near the speed of sound 

(approximately 750 miles per hour at sea level, 660 miles per hour above 40,000 

feet) wherein an airGaft encounters compressibility phenomena in fluid dynamics, 

or the "piling up" of air molecules. A serious technical obstacle to high-speed 

research in the postwar years was the choking effect experienced in wind tunnels 

during attempts to simulate flight conditions in the transonic range (600-800 

miles per hour). A wind tunnel constructed at Langley employing the slottedthroat principle to overcome the choking phenomenon did not begin operation 

until 1951, and a series of NACA and Air Force supersonic tunnels, authorized 

by Congress under the Unitary Plan Act of 1949, was not completed until the 

mid-fifties. 2G NACA investigators had to use other methods for extensive transonic research. One was a falling-body technique, in which airplane models 

equipped with radio-telemetry apparatus were dropped from bombers at high 

altitudes. Another was the firing of small solid-propellant rockets to gather data 

on various aerodynamic shapes accelerated past mach 1, the speed of sound. Many 

of these tests su pported military missile studies. The rocket firings were carried 

out at the Pilotless Aircraft Research Station, a facility set up by the Langley laboratory on Wallops Island, off the Virginia coast, in the spring of 1945. The Pilot10 
pp

United States, however, was the NACA-military work with rocket-propelled aircraft. In 1943, Langley aerodynamicist John Stack and Robert J. Woods of the 

Bell Aircraft Corporation, realizing that propeller-driven aircraft had about 

reached their performance limits, suggested the development of a special airplane 

for research in the problems of transonic and supersonic flight. The next year, 

the Army Air Forces, the Navy, and NACA inaugurated a program for the construction and operation of such an airplane, to be propelled by a liquid-fueled 

rocket engine. Built by Bell and eventually known as the X-I, the plane was 

powered by a 6000-pound-thrust rocket burning liquid oxygen and a mixture of 

alcohol and distilled water. On October 14, 1947, above Edwards Air Force Base 

in southern California, the X-I dropped from the underside of its B-29 carrier 

plane at 35,000 feet and began climbing. A few seconds later the pilot of the 

small, bullet-shaped craft, Air Force Captain Charles E. Yeager, became the first 

man officially to fly faster than the speed of sound in level or climbing flight. 28 

The X-I was the first of a line of generally successful rocket research airplanes. 

In November 1953 the Navy's D-558-II, built by the Douglas Aircraft Company 

and piloted by A. Scott Crossfield of NACA, broke mach 2, twice sonic speed; but 

this record stood only until the next month, when Yeager flew the new Bell X-IA 

to mach 2.5, or approximately 1612 miles per hour. The following summer Major 

Arthur Murray of the Air Force pushed the X-IA to a new altitude record of 

90,000 feet above the Mojave Desert test complex consisting of Edwards Air Force 

Base and NACA's High Speed Flight Station. These spectacular research flights, 

besides banishing the myth that aircraft could not fly past the "sonic barrier," 

affected the design and performance of tactical military aircraft.2~ In the early 

fifties, the Air Force and the aircraft industry, profiting from the mountain of 

NACA research data, were preparing to inaugurate the new "century series" of 

supersonic jet interceptors. 3D And representatives of NACA, the Air Force, and 

the Navy Bureau of Aeronautics already were planning a new experimental rocket 

plane, the X-15, to employ the most powerful rocket aircraft motor ever developed 

and to fly to an altitude of 50 miles, the very edge of space. 

Thus less than a decade after the end of the Second World War, airplanesjet-powered and rocket-propelled-had virtually finished exploring the sensible 

atmosphere, the region below 80,000 or 90,000 feet. Much work remained for 

aeronautical scientists and engineers in such areas as airflow, turbulence, engines, 

and fuels, but researchers in NACA, the military, and the aircraft industry 

approached the thorniest problems in aeronautics with a confidence grounded in 

50 years of progress. Man's facility in atmospheric flight and his adjustment to 

the airplane seemed complete. Pilots had mastered some of the most complex 

moving machines ever contrived, and passengers sat comfortably and safely In 

1/ 
The famous research aircraft series is shown above: in the center, the Douglas X-3; 

lower left, the Bell X-I A; continuing left to right, the Douglas D-558-I, the Convair 

XF-92A, the Bell X-5, the Douglas D-558-II, and the Northrop X-4. In the photo 

below, the X -IS is shown as it drops away from its mother B-52 and starts its own 

57,OOO-lb.-thrust engine to hegin another of its highly successful research flights. 
THE HIGHWAY TO SPACE 

Space flight, however, was something else. While in one sense atmospheric 

flight was the first step toward space flight, extra-atmospheric transport involves 

much more than a logical extension of aviation technology. The airplane, 

powered either by a reciprocating or a jet engine, is a creature and a captive of 

the atmosphere, because either powerplant depends on air-more properly, 

oxygen-for its operation, and in space there is no air. But the rocket, unlike 

the gas turbine, pulsejet, ramjet, or piston engine, needs no air. It carries 

everything needed for propulsion within itself-its own fuel and some form of 

oxidizer, commonly liquid oxygen, to bum the fuel. So the rocket engine operates 

independently of its environment; in fact, its efficiency increases as it climbs away 

from the frictional density of the lower atmosphere to the thin air of the stratosphere and into the airlessness of space. 3 1 

Yet even the rocket research airplanes were a long way from spacecraft. 

Although some of these vehicles provided data on the use of reaction controls 

for steering in the near vacuum of the upper atmosphere, they were designed to 

produce considerable aerodynamic lift for control within the lower atmosphere; 

and, in terms of the mass to be accelerated, their powerplants burned too briefly 

and produced too little thrust to counterbalance the oppressive force of gravity. 

Fulfillment of the age-old desire to travel to the heavens, even realization of 

Hale's nineteenth-century concept of a manned sphere circling Earth in lower 

space, would have to await the development of rockets big enough to boost 

thousands of pounds and to break th~ lock of gravity. 

Although black-powder rockets, invented by the Chinese, had been used for 

centuries for festive and military purposes, not until the late nineteenth and early 

twentieth centuries did imaginative individuals in various parts of the world 

begin seriously to consider the liquid-fueled rocket as a vehicle for spatial conveyance. The history of liquid-fueled rocketry, and thus of manned space flight, 

is closely linked to the pioneering careers of three men- the Russian Konstantin 

Eduardovich Tsiolkovsky (1857-1935), the American Robert Hutchings Goddard (1882-1945 ), and the German-Romanian Hermann Oberth (1894- ). 

Tsiolkovsky, for most of his life an obscure teacher of mathematics, authored 

a series of remarkable technical essays on such subjects as reaction propulsion with 

liquid-propellant rockets, attainable velocities, fuel compositions, and oxygen 

supply and air purification for space travelers. He also wrote what apparently 

was the first technical discussion of an artificial Earth satellite. 3 

:! Although virtually unknown in the West at the time of his death, in 1935, Tsiolkovsky was 

honored by the Soviets and had helped establish a long Russian tradition of 

13 
was by far the most important of the rocket pioneers. :11 As early as 1914 he 

secured a patent for a small liquid-fueled rocket engine. Six years later he 

published a highly technical paper on the potential uses of a rocket with such 

an engine for studying atmospheric conditions at altitudes from 20 to 50 miles. 

Toward the end of the paper he mentioned the possibility of firing a rocket 

containing a powder charge that could be exploded on the Moon. "It remains 

only to perform certain necessary preliminary experiments before an apparatus 

can be constructed that will carry recording instruments to any desired altitude," 

he concluded. 3':; 

Goddard's life for the next 20 years was devoted to making those "necessary 

preliminary experiments." Working in the 1920s in Massachusetts with financial 

support from various sources and in the New Mexico desert with Guggenheim 

Foundation funds during the succeeding decade, Goddard compiled an amazing 

list of "firsts" in rocketry. Among other things, he carried out the first recorded 

launching of a liquid-propellant rocket (March 16, 1926), adapted the gyroscope to guide rockets, installed movable deflector vanes in a rocket exhaust nozzle 

for stability and steering, patented a design for a multistage rocket, developed 

fuel pumps for liquid-rocket motors, experimented with self-cooling and variablethrust motors, and developed automatically deployed parachutes for recovering 

his instrumented rockets. Finally, he was the first of the early rocket enthusiasts 

to go beyond theory and design into the realm of "systems engineering" -the 

complex and hand-dirtying business of making airframes, fuel pumps, valves, 

and guidance devices compatible, and of doing all the other things necessary to 

make a rocket fly. Goddard put rocket theory into practice, as his 214 patents 

attest. 36 

Goddard clearly deserves the fame that has attached to his name in recent 

years, but in many ways he was more inventor than scientist. He deliberately 

worked in lonely obscurity, jealously patented virtually all of his innovations, and 

usually refused to share his findings with others. Consequently his work was 

not as valuable as it might have been to such of his contemporaries as the young 

rocket buffs who formed the American Rocket Society in the early thirties and 

vainly sought his counse1.37 

Goddard's disdain for team research prompted his refusal to work with the 

California Institute of Technology Rocket Research Project, instigated in 1936 

by the renowned von Karman, then director of the Guggenheim Aeronautical 

Laboratory at CalTech. The CalTech group undertook research in the fundamentals of high-altitude sounding rockets, including thermodynamics, the principles of reaction, fuels, thrust measurements, and nozzle shapes. Beginning in 

1939 the Guggenheim Laboratory, under the first Federal contract for rocket 

14 
From theory through laboratory 

demonstration t h r 0 ugh design, 

construction, test flight, and 'Use of 

payload, Robert H. Goddard must 

rank as the U.S. pioneer in modern rocketry. The famous photo 

at the right shows Goddard beside 

his first successful liquid-fuel 

rocket, flown March 16, 1926. 

Years later, in the spring of 1941, 

he had progressed to larger, more 

complex models, like the one 

shown below in his workshop at 

Mescalero Ranch, Roswell, 

N. M ex., with his assistants. In 

December 1944, Goddard sent this 

photo to his long-time benefactor 

Harry F. Guggenheim with the 

comment, "It is practically identical with the German V-2 rocket." 
to drop the use of the word. It did not return to our vocabulary until several 

years later ...." :::s In 1944, with the Guggenheim Laboratory working intently on Army and Navy contracts for JATO units and small bombardment 

rockets, the Rocket Research Project was reorganized a~ the Jet Propulsion 

Laboratory. :lG 

In the 1920s and 1930s interest in rocketry and space exploration became 

firmly rooted in Europe, although the rapid expansion of aviation technology 

occupied the attention of most flight-minded Europeans. Societies of rocket 

theorists and experimenters, mostly privately sponsored, were established in several European countries.-l O The most important of these groups was the Society 

for Space Travel (Verein fur Raumschiffahrt) , founded in Germany but having 

members in other countries. The aVfR/J as its founders called it, gained much 

of its impetus from the writings of Oberth, who in 1923, as a young mathematician, 

published his classic treatise on space travel, The Rocket into Interplanetary Space. 

A substantial portion of this small book was devoted to a detailed description 

of the mechanics of putting into orbit a satellite of Earth.11 

Spurred by Oberth's theoretical arguments, the Germans in the VfR in the 

early thirties conducted numerous static firings of rocket engines and launched 

a number of small rockets. Meanwhile the German Army, on the assumption 

that rocketry could become an extension of long-range artillery and because the 

construction of rockets was not prohibited by the Treaty of Versailles, had inaugurated a modest rocket development program in 1931, employing several of the 

VfR members. One of these was a 21-year-old engineer named Wemher von 

Braun, who later became the civilian head of the army's rocket research group. 

In 1933 the new Nazi regime placed all rocket experimentation, including that 

being done by the rest of the VfR, under strict government contro1. 4 :! 

The story of German achievements in military rocketry during the late thirties 

and early forties at Peenemuende, the vast military research installation on the 

Baltic Sea, is well known. 43 Knowing Goddard's work only through his published findings, the German experimenters contrived and elaborated on nearly 

all of the American's patented technical innovations, including gyroscopic controls, parachutes for rocket recovery, and movable deflector vanes in the exhaust. 

The rocket specialists at Peenemuende were trying to create the first large, longrange military rocket. By 1943, after numerous frustrations, they had their 

"big rocket," 46 feet long by 1112 feet in diameter, weighing 34,000 pounds 

when fueled, and producing 69,100 pounds of thrust from a single engine consuming liquid oxygen and a mixture of alcohol and water. Called "Assembly-4" 

(A-4) by the Peenemuende group, the rocket had a range of nearly 200 miles 

and a maximum velocity of about 3500 miles per hour, and was controlled by its 

16 
propaganda machine christened it Vergeltungswaffe zwei (Vengeance Weapon 

No.2), or "V-2." 1.1 But for the space-travel devotees at Peenemuende the rocket 

remained the A-4, a step in the climb toward space. 

Although the total military effect of the 3745 V-2s fired at targets on the 

Continent and in England was slight, this supersonic ballistic missile threw a long 

shadow over the future of human society. As the Western Allies and the Soviets 

swept into Germany, they both sought to confiscate the elements of the German 

rocket program in the form of records, hardware, and people. Peenemuende 

was within the Russian zone of occupation, but before the arrival of the Soviet 

forces von Braun and most of the other engineers and technicians fled westward 

with a portion of their technical data. The Americans also captured the underground V-2 factory in the Harz Mountains; 100 partially assembled V-2s were 

quickly dismantled and sent to the United States. Ultimately von Braun and 

about 125 other German rocket specialists reached this country under "Project 

Paperclip," carried out by the United States Army.4G 

The Soviets captured no more than a handful of top Peenemuende engineers 

and administrators. "This is absolutely intolerable," protested Josef Stalin to 

Hermann Oberth with key officials 

of the Army Ballistic Missile Agency at Huntsville) Ala.) in 1956. 

Counterclockwise from the left: 

Maj. Gen. H. N. Toftoy) commanding general of ABMA) who 

organized Project Paperclip)' 

Ernst Stuhlinger)' Oberth)' Wernher von Braun) Director) Development Operations Division)' and 

Eberhard Rees) Deputy Director) 

Development Operations Division. 
tories and assembly plant, and lists of component suppliers. From those suppliers 

located in the Russian zone the Soviets secured enough parts to reactivate the 

manufacture of V-2s. The captured technicians and engineers were transported 

to the Soviet Union, where the Russian rocket specialists systematically drained 

them of the technical information they possessed but did not permit them to 

participate directly in the burgeoning postwar Soviet rocket development 

program. 48 

During the war Russian rocket developers, like their American counterparts, 

had concentrated on JATO and small bombardment rockets. "Backward 

though they were often said to be in matters of technology," observed James 

Phinney Baxter right after the war, "it was the Russians who in 1941 first employed rockets on a major scale. They achieved a notable success, and made 

more use of the rocket as a ground-to-ground weapon than any other combatant." 49 In the postwar years the Soviets quickly turned to the development 

of large liquid-propellant rockets. Lacking an armada of intercontinental 

bombers carrying atomic warheads, such as the United States possessed, they 

envisioned "trans-Atlantic rockets" as "an effective straightjacket for that noisy 

shopkeeper Harry Truman," to use Stalin's words. 50 Consequently the U.S.S.R. 

undertook to build a long-range military rocket years before nuclear weaponry 

actually became practicable for rockets; indeed, even before the Soviets had 

perfected an atomic device for delivery by aircraft. 

The U.S.S.R. began exploration of the upper atmosphere with captured 

V-2s in the fall of 1947. Within two years, however, Soviet production was 

underway on a single-stage rocket called the T -1, an improved version of the 

V-2. The first rocket divisions of the Soviet Armed Forces were instituted in 

1950 or 1951. Probably in 1954, development work began on a multistage rocket 

to be used both as a weapon and as a vehicle for space exploration. And in the 

spring of 1956 Communist Party Chairman Nikita Khrushchev warned that 

"soon" Russian rockets carrying thermonuclear warheads would be able to hit 

any target on Earth. 51 

POSTWAR AMERICAN ROCKETRY 

Meanwhile the United States, convinced of the long-term superiority of her 

intercontinental bombers, pursued national security by means of airpower. The 

extremely he3vy weight of atomic warheads meant that they would have to be 

delivered by large bombers, or by a much bigger rocket than anyone in the military was willing to ask Congress to fund. Despite the early postwar warnings of 

General Henry H. Arnold and others, for whom the V-2 experience was prophetic, 

18 
pp

Chairman Bush, then Director of the Office of Scientific Research and Development, had expressed the prevailing mood in a much-quoted (and perhaps muchregretted) piece of testimony before a Congressional committee: "There has been 

a great deal said about a 3000-mile high-angle rocket. In my opinion, such a 

thing is impossible today and will be impossible for many years .... I wish 

the American public would leave that out of their thinking." 33 

The United States developed guided missiles for air-to-air, air-to-surface, 

and surface-to-air interception uses and as tactical surface-to-surface weapons. 

Rocket motors, using both liquid and solid fuels, gradually replaced jet propulsion systems, but short-range defensive missiles remained advanced enough for most 

tastes until the late 1950s. 54 

As for scientific research in the upper atmosphere, the backlog of V-2s put 

together by the United States Anny from captured components would do in the 

early postwar years. From April 1946 to October 1951, 66 V -2s were fired at the 

Army's White Sands Proving Grounds, New Mexico, in the most extensive 

rocket and upper-atmospheric research program to that time. The Anny Ordnance Department, the Air Force, the Air Force Cambridge Research Center, 

the General Electric Company, various scientific institutions, universities, and 

government agencies, and the Naval Research Laboratory participated in the 

White Sands V-2 program. Virtually all the rockets were heavily instrumented, 

and many of them carried plant life and animals. V-2s carried monkeys aloft 

on four occasions; telemetry data transmitted from the rockets showed no ill effects 

on the primates until each was killed in the crash. The most memorable launching at White Sands, however, came on February 24, 1949, when a V-2 boosted 

a WAC Corporal rocket developed by the Jet Propulsion Laboratory 244 miles 

into space and to a speed of 5510 miles per hour, the greatest altitude and velocity 

yet attained by a man-made object. A year and a half later, a V-2-WAC 

Corporal combination rose from Cape Canaveral, Florida, in the first launch at 

the Air Force's newly activated Long Range Proving Ground. 55 

By the late forties, with the supply of V-2s rapidly disappearing, work had 

begun on more reliable and efficient research rockets. The most durable of these 

indigenous projectiles proved to be the Aerobee, designed as a sounding rocket 

by the Applied Physics Laboratory of Johns Hopkins University and financed by 

the Office of Naval Research. With a peak altitude of about 80 miles, the 

Aerobee served as a reliable tool for upper-atmospheric research until the late 

1950s.GG The Naval Research Laboratory designed the Viking, a long, slim highaltitude sounding rocket, manufactured by the Glenn L. Martin Company of Baltimore. In August 1951 the Viking bettered its own altitude record for a single-stage 

rocket, reaching 136 miles from a White Sands launch. In the fifties, instrumenta19 
The first Bumper-WAC launch occurred on 

May 13, 1948. On February 24, 1949, the 

two-stage rocket reached its record altitude of 

244 miles and speed of 5150 miles per hour. 

tion carried in Aerobees and Vikings extended knowledge of the atmosphere to 

150 miles, provided photographs of Earth's curvature and cloud cover, and gave 

some information on the Sun and cosmic radiation. G7 

In 1955 the Viking was chosen as the first stage and an improved Aerobee as 

the second stage for a new; three-stage rocket to be used in Project Vanguard, 

which was to orbit an instrumented research satellite as part of the American contribution to the International Geophysical Year. The decision to use the Viking 

and the "Aerobee-Hi" in this country's first effort to launch an unmanned scientific satellite illustrates the basic dichotomy in thought and practice governing 

postwar rocket development in the United States: After the expenditure of the 

V-2s, scientific activity should employ relatively inexpensive sounding rockets 

with small thrusts. Larger, higher-thrust, and more expensive rockets to be used 

as space launchers must await a specific military requirement. Such a policy 

meant that the Soviet Union, early fostering the ballistic missile as an intercontinental delivery system, might have a proven long-range rocket before the United 

States; the Soviets might also, if they chose, launch larger satellites sooner than 

this country. 

By 1951, three sizable military rockets were under development in the United 

20 
development, canceled the Navaho enterprise. Technologically, however, Navaho proved a worthwhile investment; its booster-engine configuration, for example, became the basic design later used in various rockets. ,,8 The two other rocket 

projects being financed by the military in the early fifties were ultimately successful, 

both as weapons systems and as space boosters. 

REDSTONE AND ATLAS 

After the creation of a separate Air Force in 1947, the Army had continued 

rocket development, operating on the same assumption behind the Gennan Army's 

research in the 1930s-that rocketry was basically an extension of artillery. In 

June 1950, Army Ordnance moved its team of 130 German rocket scientists and 

engineers from Fort Bliss at EI Paso to the Army's Redstone Arsenal at Huntsville, 

Alabama, along with some 800 military and General Electric employees. Headed 

by \Vernher von Braun, who later became chief of the Guided Missile Development Division at Redstone Arsenal, the Army group began design studies on a 

liquid-fueled battlefield missile called the Hermes C 1, a modified V-2. Soon 

the Huntsville engineers changed the design of the Hermes, which had been 

planned for a 500-mile range, to a 200-mile rocket capable of high mobility for 

field deployment. The Rocketdyne Division of North American Aviation modified the Navaho booster engine for the new weapon, and in 1952 the Army bombardment rocket was officially named "Redstone." ,,!) 

Always the favorite of the von Braun group working for the Army, the Redstone was a direct descendant of the V-2. The Redstone's liquid-fueled engine 

burned alcohol and liquid oxygen and produced about 75,000 pounds of thrust. 

Nearly 70 feet long and slightly under 6 feet in diameter, the battlefield missile 

had a speed at burnout, the point of propellant exhaustion, of 3800 miles per hour. 

For guidance it utilized an all-inertial system featuring a gyroscopically stabilized 

platfonn, computers, a programmed flight path taped into the rocket before 

launch, and the activation of the steering mechanism by signals in flight. For control during powered ascent the Redstone depended en tail fins with movable 

rudders and refractory carbon vanes mounted in the rocket exhaust. The prime 

contract for the manufacture of Redstone test rockets went to the Chrysler Corporation. In August 1953 a Redstone fabricated at the Huntsville arsenal made 

a partially successful maiden flight of only 8000 yards from the military's missile 

range at Cape Canaveral, Florida. During the next five years, 37 Redstones 

were fired to test structure, engine performance, guidance and control, tracking, 

and telemetry. GO 

The second successful military rocket being developed in 1951 was an Air 

Force project, the Atlas. The long history of the Atlas, the first American inter21 
thermonuclear explosion, to eliminate the need for precise missile accuracy.G

In February 1954 both the Strategic Missiles Evaluation Committee and th

Rand Corporation, the Air Force-sponsored research agency, submitted forma

reports predicting smaller nuclear warheads and urging that the Air Force giv

its highest priority to work on kIng-range ballistic missiles. 

Between 1945 and 1953 the yield of heavy fission weapons had increased sub

stantially from the 20-kiloton bomb dropped on Hiroshima. Now, accordin

to the Air Force's scientific advisers, lighter, more compact, and much mor

powerful hydrogen warheads could soon be realized. These judgments "com

pletely changed the picture regarding the ballistic missile," explained Genera

Bernard A. Schriever, who later came to head the Air Force ballistic missil

development program, "because from then on we could consider a relatively low 

weight package for payload purposes." G5 This was the fateful "thermonuclea

breakthrough.' , 

Late in March 1964 the Air Research and Development Command organize

a special missile command agency, originally called the Western Developmen

Division but renamed Air Force Ballistic Missile Division on June 1, 1957. It

first headquarters was in Inglewood, California; its first commander, Brigadie

General Schriever. The Convair big rocket project gained new life in the winte

of 1954-55, when the Western Development Division awarded its first long-term 

contract for fabrication of an ICBM. The awarding of the contract came in a

atmosphere of mounting crisis and urgency. The Soviets had exploded thei

own thermonuclear device in 1953, and intelligence data from various source

indicated that they also were working on ICBMs to carry uranium and hydroge

warheads. Thus the Atlas project became a highest-priority "crash" program

with the Air Force and its contractors and subcontractors working against th

fearsome possibility of thermonuclear blackmail.cc 

Rejecting the Army-arsenal concept, whereby research and development and 

some fabrication took place in Government facilities, the Air Force left the grea

bulk of the engineering task to Convair and its associate contractors. G7 For clos

technical and administrative direction the Air Force turned to the newly formed 

Ramo-Wooldridge Corporation, a private missile research firm, which established 

a subsidiary initially called the Guided Missiles Research Division, later Spac

Technology Laboratories (STL). With headquarters in Los Angeles, the firm 

was to oversee the systems engineering of the Air Force I CBM program. (;S 

In November 1955, STL's directional responsibilities broadened to include 

work on a new Air Force rocket, the intermediate-range (1800-mile) Thor

hastily designed by the Douglas Aircraft Company to serve as a stopgap nuclea

deterrent until the intercontinental Atlas became operational. At the same time 

23 
to the Army rocketmen at Redstone Arsenal. To expedite Jupiter development, 

the Army on February 1, 1956, established at Huntsville a Ballistic Missile Agency, 

to which Wernher von Braun and his Guided Missile Development Division were 

transferred. Later that year Wilson issued his controversial "roles and missions" 

memorandum, confirming Air Force jurisdiction over the operational deployment 

of intercontinental missiles, assigning to the Air Force sole jurisdiction over 

land-based intermediate-range weapons, restricting Army operations to weapons 

with ranges of up to 200 miles, and assigning ship-based IRBM's to the Navy. 

Partly as a result of this directive, but mainly because of the difficulty of handling 

liquid propellants at sea, the Navy withdrew from the Jupiter program and 

focused its interest on the Polaris, a solid-propellant rocket designed for launching 

from a submarine. GO 

As it developed after 1954, the Air Force ballistic missile development program, proceeding under the highest national priority and the pressure of Soviet 

missilery, featured a departure from customary progressive practice in weapons 

management. The label for the new, self-conscious management technique 

adopted by the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division-Space Technology Laboratories 

team was "concurrency." Translated simply, concurrency meant "the simultaneous completion of all necessary actions to produce and deploy a weapon system." 70 But in practice the management task-involving parallel advances in 

research, design, testing,. and manufacture of vehicles and components, design and 

construction of test facilities, testing of components and systems, expansion and 

creation of industrial facilities, and the building of launch sites-seemed overwhelmingly complex. At the beginning of 1956 the job of contriving one ICBM, 

the Atlas, was complicated by the decision to begin work on the Thor and on the 

Titan I, a longer-range, higher-thrust, "second generation" ICBM.71 

The basic problem areas in the development of the Atlas included structure, 

propulsion, guidance, and thermodynamics. Convair attacked the structural 

problem by coming up with an entirely different kind of airframe. The Atlas 

airframe principle, nicknamed the "gas bag," entailed using stainless steel sections 

thinner than paper as the structural material, with rigidity achieved through helium 

pressurization to a differential of between 25 and 60 pounds per square inch. The 

pressurized tank innovation led to a substantial reduction in the ratio between 

structure and total weight; the empty weight of the Atlas airframe was less than 

two percent of the propellant weight. Yet the Atlas, like an automobile tire or a 

football, could absorb very heavy structuralloads.'j~ 

For the Atlas powerplant the Air Force contracted with the Rocketdyne Division of North American Aviation. The thermonuclear breakthrough meant that 

the original five-engine configuration planned for the Atlas could be scrapped in 

favor of a smaller, three-engine design. Thus Rocketdyne could contrive a unique 

25 
advantages: ignition of the second stage in the upper atmosphere was avoided, 

and firing the sustainer at takeoff meant that smaller engines could be used. The 

booster engines produced 154,000 pounds of thrust each; the sustainer engine, 

57,000 pounds; and the two verniers, 1000 pounds each. The propellant for 

the boosters, sustainer, and verniers consisted of liquid oxygen and a hydrocarbon 

mixture called RP-1. The basic fuel and oxidizer were brought together by an 

intricate network of lines, valves, and often-troublesome turbopumps, which fed 

the propellant into the Atlas combustion chambers at a rate of about 1500 pounds 

per second. The thrust of the "one and one-half stage" Atlas powerplant, over 

360,000 pounds, was equivalent to about five times the horsepower generated by 

the turbines of Hoover Dam or the pull of 1600 steam locomotives.i 3 

The Atlas looked rather fat alongside the Army Redstone, the Thor, or the 

more powerful Titan. The length of the Atlas with its original Mark II blunt 

nose cone was nearly 76 feet; its diameter at the fuel-tank section was 10 feet, at 

its base, 16 feet. Its weight when fueled was around 260,000 pounds. Its speed 

at burnout was in the vicinity of 16,000 miles per hour, and it had an original 

design range of 6300 miles, later increased to 9000 miles. H 

The prototype Atlas "A" had no operating guidance system. The Atlases 

"B" through "D" employed a radio-inertial guidance system, wherein transmitters on the rocket sensed aerodynamic forces acting on the missile and sent radio 

readings to a computer on the ground, which calculated the Atlas' position, speed, 

and direction. Radio signals were then sent to the rocket and fed through its 

inertial autopilot to gimbal the booster and sustainer engines and establish the 

Atlas' correct trajectory. After the jettisoning of the outboard booster engines, 

the sustainer carried the Atlas to the desired velocity before cutting off, while the 

vernier engines continued in operation to maintain precise direction and velocity. 

At vernier cutoff the missile began its unguided ballistic trajectory. A few moments 

later the nose cone separated from the rest of the rocket and continued on a high 

arc before plunging into the atmosphere. Radio-inertial guidance, the system 

used on the Atlas D and in Project Mercury, had the advantage of employing a 

ground computer that could be as big as desired, thus removing part of the nagging Atlas weight problem.'5 

By the mid-1950s the smaller thermonuclear warhead predicted by the Teapot 

Committee was imminent, so that the 360,000-pound thrust of the Atlas was 

plenty of energy to boost a payload of a ton and a half, over the 6300-mile range. 

But while nose,..cone size ceased to be a problem, the dilemma of how to keep the 

ICBM's destructive package from burning up as it dropped into the ever-thickening 

atmosphere at 25 times the speed of sound remained. At such speeds even the 

thin atmosphere 60 to 80 miles up generates tremendous frictional heat, which 

26 
Jupiter, and Polaris were lower than those of the Atlas, but even for these smaller

thrust vehicles the matter of payload protection was acute. 7G 

In the mid-fifties the "reentry problem" looked like the hardest puzzle to solve 

and the farthest from solution, not only for the missile experts but also for those 

who dreamed of sending a man into space and bringing him back. As von 

Karman observed in his partially autobiographical history of aerodynamic thought, 

published in 1954: 

Any rocket returning from space travel enters the atmosphere with tremendous 

speed. At such speeds, probably even in the thinnest air, the surface would be 

heated beyond the temperature endurable by any known material. This problem of the temperature barrier is much more formidable than the problem of 

the sonic barrier. 77 

Years of concerted research by the military services, NACA, the Jet Propulsion 

Laboratory, and other organizations would be necessary before crews at Cape 

Canaveral, either preparing a missile shot or the launching of a manned spacecraft, could confidently expect to get their payload back through the atmosphere 

unharmed. 

The American ballistic missile program of the 1950s produced some remarkable managerial and engineering achievements. Eventually the United States 

would deploy reliable ICBMs in larger numbers than the Soviet Union. Yet 

the fact remains that the Russians first developed such an awesome weapon, first 

tested it successfully, and first converted their larger ICBM for space uses.'s Thus 

American missile developers fell short of what had to be their immediate goalkeeping ahead or at least abreast of the Soviets in advanced weaponry. Bureaucratic delays, proliferation of committees, divided responsibility, interservice 

rivalry, sacrificial attachment to a balanced budget, excessive waste and duplication, even for a "crash" program-these were some of the criticisms that missile 

contractors, military men, scientists, and knowledgeable politicians lodged against 

the Defense Department and the Truman and Eisenhower administrations. From 

1953 to 1957, Secretaries of Defense Wilson and Neil H. McElroy presided over 

11 major organizational changes pertaining directly to the missile program. i O 

"It was just like putting a nickel in a slot machine," recalled J. H. Kindelberger, 

chairman of the board of North American Aviation, on the difficulty of getting a 

decision from the plethora of Pentagon committees. "You pull the handle and 

you get a lemon and you put another one in. You have to get three or four 

of them in a row and hold them there long enough for them to say 'Yes.' It takes a 

lot of nickels and a lot of time." 80 And even Schriever, certainly not one to be 

critical of the pace of missile development, admitted that "in retrospect you might 

say that we could have moved a little faster." 81 

27 
g,py pyg 

the improved V - 2, the T -1, as an upper stage and a booster rocket with a thrust 

of over 400,000 pounds the T -3.s:! In the furor in the West following the Russian 

announcement an American general allegedly exclaimed, "We captured the wrong 

Germans." S:l 

Then, on October 4, the Soviets used apparently the same ICBM to blast 

into orbit the first artificial Earth satellite, a bundle of instruments weighing about 

184 pounds called Sputnik, a combination of words meaning "fellow-traveler of 

the Earth." A month later Soviet scientists and rocket engineers sent into high 

elliptical orbit a heavily instrumented capsule, Sputnik II, weighing some 1120 

pounds and carrying a dog named Laika. 

The Russian ICBM shot in August had given new urgency to the missile 

competition and had prompted journalists to begin talking about the "missile 

gap." The Sputnik launches of the fall opened up a new phase of the SovictAmerican technological and ideological struggle, and caused more chagrin, 

consternation, and indignant soul-searching in the United States than any episode 

since Pearl Harbor. Now there was a "space race" in addition to an "arms 

race," and it was manifest that at least for the time being there was a "space lag" 

to add to the ostensible missile gap. 

After the first Sputnik went into orbit, President Dwight D. Eisenhower 

reminded the critics of his administration that, unlike ballistic missile development, 

"our satellite program has never been conducted as a race with other nations." 84 

As far as the Soviet Union was concerned, however, there had been a satellite 

race for at least two and perhaps four years before the Sputniks. There was 

probably a Soviet parallel to the highly secret studies carried out in the immediate 

postwar years by the Rand Corporation for the Air Force and by the Navy Bureau 

of Aeronautics on the feasibility and military applicability of instrumented Earth 

satellites.s,:; As late as 1952, however, Albert E. Lombard, scientific adviser in 

the Department of the Air Force, reported that "intelligence information on Soviet 

progress, although fragmentary, has given no indication on Soviet activity in this 

field." SG Late the next year, President A. N. Nesmeyanov of the Soviet Academy 

of Sciences proclaimed that "Science has reached a state when it is feasible to 

send a stratoplane to the Moon, to create an artificial satellite of the Earth."87 

A torrent of Soviet books and articles on rockets, satellites, and interplanetary 

travel followed the Nesmeyanov statement. 

In August 1955, a few days after the White House announced that the United 

States would launch a series of "small, unmanned, earth-circling satellites" during 

the 18-month International Geophysical Year, beginning July 1, 1957, Soviet 

aeronautical and astronautical expert Leonid Sedov remarked that the U.S.S.R. 

28 
ppy

ference in 1956. And in June 1957 the Soviet press advertised the radio frequency on which the first Russian satellite would transmit signals. By the end of 

the summer a few American Sovietologists were predicting freely that the U.S.S.R. 

would attempt a satellite launching soon, and they were somewhat surprised that 

the shot did not occur on September 17, 1957, the centennial of the birth of 

Tsiolkovsky. 8!J 

American embarrassment reached its apex and American technological 

prestige its nadir just over a month after Sputnik II. As the Senate Preparedness 

Subcommittee, headed by Lyndon B. Johnson, began an investigation of the 

nation's satellite and missile activities, Americans turned their attention to Cape 

Canaveral. There, according to White House Press Secretary James C. Hagerty, 

scientists and engineers from the Naval Research Laboratory and its industrial 

contractors would attempt to put in orbit a grapefruit-sized package of instruments as part of Project Vanguard, the American International Geophysical Year 

satellite effort. In reality the Vanguard group was planning only to use a test 

satellite in the first launch of all three active stages of the research rocket. To 

their dismay swanns of newsmen descended on Cape Canaveral to watch what the 

public regarded as this country's effort to get into the space race. On December 6, 

before a national television audience, the Vanguard first stage exploded and the 

rest of the rocket collapsed into the wet sand surrounding the launch stand.!Jo 

In the face of the fact that "they" orbited satellites before "we" did, together 

with the apparent complacency of official Washington, the Vanguard blowup 

took on disastrous proportions. McElroy had become Secretary of Defense on 

October 9, after Wilson's resignation. In mid-November he had authorized the 

Army Ballistic Missile Agency at Redstone Arsenal to revive "Project Orbiter." 

This was a scheme for using a Redstone with upper stages to orbit an instrumented 

satellite. It had heen proposed jointly by the Office of Na\'al Research and the 

Army in 1954-1955 but overruled in the Defense Department in favor of the 

Naval Research Laboratory's Vanguard proposal, based on the Viking and Aerobee. D1 Now Wernher von Braun and company hurriedly com'erted their Jupiter C 

reentry test vehicle, an elongated Redstone topped by clustered solid-propellant 

upper stages developed by the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, into a satellite launcher. 0 : 

On January 31, 1958, just 84 days after McElroy'S go-ahead signal, and 

carrying satellite instruments developed for Project Vanguard by University of 

Iowa physicist James A. Van Allen, a Jupiter C (renamed Juno I by the von 

Braun team) boosted into orbit Explorer I, the first American satellite. The 

total weight of the pencil-shaped payload was about 31 pounds, 18 pounds of 

which consisted of instruments. Following a high elliptical orbit, Explorer I 

transmitted data revealing the existence of a deep zone of radiation girdling 

29 
Vanguard was the one nonmilitary 

and 

gram. 

launch 

of 

rocket 

the 

for 

was 

Viking 

vehicle 

M 

its 

are 

important 

legacy 

of 

or 

rocket) 

the 

of 

less 

contributions 

early 

in 

the 

a 

its 

descendant 

space 

Vanguard 

own right 

proto 

N ASA)s Delta launch vehicle that 

would follow. Also the program 

built the Minitrack tracking network) 

which was to have a long) fruitful 

part to play in the space program. 

Earth, dubbed the "Van Allen belt." The following March 17, the muchmaligned Vanguard finally accomplished its purpose, lifting a scientific payload 

weighing a little over 3 pounds into an orbit that was expected to keep the satellite 

up from 200 to 1000 years. Vanguard I proved what geophysicists had long suspected, that Earth is not a perfect sphere but is slightly pear-shaped, bulging in the 

aqueous southern hemisphere. Explorer III) with an instrumented weight of 

1812 pounds, was fired into orbit by a Jupiter C nine days later. But in Maya 

mammoth Soviet rocket launched a satellite with the then staggering weight of 

nearly 3000 pounds, some 56 times as heavy as the combined weight of the three 

American satellite payloads. G3 

Clearly, rockets that could accelerate such bulky unmanned satellites to orbital 

velocity could also send a man into space. And it seemed safe to assume that the 

Soviet politicians, scientists, and military leaders, capitalizing on their lead in 

propulsion systems, had precisely such a feat in mind. When the one-and-onehalf-ton Sputnik I I I shot into orbit, the Atlas, star of the American missile drive, 

viewed not only as the preeminent weapon of the next decade but also as a highly 

promising space rocket, was still in its qualification flight program. Plagued by 

30 

would become a reliable missile. It must if the United States was not to fall 

perilously behind in the frenzied competition with the Soviets, if the missile gap 

was not to widen. And what of the advocates of manned space flight, the 

ambitious individuals on the fringes of the scientific community, NACA, and the 

military services-people who saw the Atlas, not the frail Vanguard or the 

Jupiter C, as holding the key to space? They also kept their hopes high. 

31 
 

TIIT 
 ,.................................._...................................................................................................................... 

Exploring the Human Factor 

( 1948-1958) 

T HE development of the large liquid-fueled rocket made the dazzling prospect 

of manned flight beyond Earth's atmosphere and into the vacuum of space 

increasingly feasible from the standpoint of propulsion. By 1950, however, only 

instrumented sounding rockets, fired to ever higher altitudes in both the United 

States and the Soviet Union, had reached into space before falling earthward. 

Although a number of these experimental shots carried living organisms-everything from fungus spores to monkeys in the United States, mainly dogs in the 

U.S.S.R.-the data acquired from telemetry and from occasional recovery of 

rocket nose cones had not shown conclusively how long organisms could live in 

space, or indeed whether man could survive at all outside the protective confines 

of his atmosphere. Scientists still were hesitant to predict how a human being 

would behave under conditions to be encountered in space flight. Thus while 

space flight became technologically practicable, physiologically and psychologically 

it remained an enigma. 

In the early 1950s an acceleration of efforts in upper-atmospheric and space 

medical research accompanied the quickened pace of rocket development in this 

country and in the Soviet Union. During the next few years medical specialists, 

profiting from substantial progress in telemetering clinical data, learned a great 

deal about what a man could expect when he went into the forbidding arena of 

space.1 Much of the confidence with which the engineers of Project Mercury 

in 1958 approached the job of putting a man into orbit and recovering him 

stemmed from the findings of hundreds of studies made in previous years on the 

human factors in space flight., 

Since the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics was interested almost 

exclusively in the technology of flight, research in the medical problems of space 

flight, like aviation medicine in previous decades, was the province primarily of 

the military services and of some civilian research organizations receiving funds 

from the military. Of the three services, the United States Air Force, rich in 

background in aeromedical research and assuming that space medicine was but an 

33 
After the Second World War the Air Force acquired the talents of a number 

of scientists who had done much remarkable research on the medical aspects of 

high-speed, high-altitude airplane flight for Germany's Luftwaffe.:! Most of these 

German physicians, physiologists, and psychologists were brought to the expanding 

Aeromedical Laboratory at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, near Dayton, Ohio. 

Six of the more prominent German aeromedical specialists, Hubertus Strughold, 

Hans-Georg Clamann, Konrad Buettner, Siegfried J. Gerathewohl, and the brothers Fritz and Heinz Haber, were assigned as research physicians to the Air Force 

School of Aviation Medicine, located on the scrub prairies of south central Texas 

at Randolph Air Force Base, outside San Antonio. The commandant of the 

school was Colonel Harry G. Armstror..g, author of the classic text in aviation 

medicine. 3 While heavily instrumented V-2s lumbered upward from White 

Sands and plastic research balloons lifted seeds, mice, hamsters, fruit flies, and 

other specimens into the upper atmosphere, Armstrong and his associates were 

already considering the medical implications of flight by man into the hostile 

space environment. 

In November 1948, Armstrong organized at Randolph a panel discussion on 

the "Aeromedical Problems of Space Travel." Featuring papers by Strughold 

and Heinz Haber and commentary by six well-known scientists from universities 

and the military, the symposium perhaps marked the beginning of formal, academic inquiry into the medical hazards of extra-atmospheric flight. Before this 

epochal gathering ended, Strughold had resolved the contradiction inherent in the 

title of the symposium by emphatically using the term "space medicine." 4 

The following February, Armstrong set up the world's first Department of 

Space Medicine, headed by Strughold and including the Habers and Konrad 

Buettner.5 In November 1951, at San Antonio, the School of Aviation Medicine 

and the privately financed Lovelace Foundation for Medical Research at Albuquerque, New Mexico, sponsored a symposium discreetly entitled "Physics and 

Medicine of the Upper Atmosphere." It was still not respectable to speak plainly 

of space flight within the Air Force, which only that year had cautiously reactivated 

its intercontinental ballistic missile project and remained sensitive to "Buck 

Rogers" epithets from members of Congress and the taxpaying public. A good 

portion of the material presented by the 44 speakers at the 1951 symposium, however, covered the nature of space, the mechanics of space flight, and the medical 

difficulties of sending a man beyond the sensible and breathable atmosphere.G 

It was at this meeting that Strughold, later to acquire a reputation as the 

"father of space 1nedicine," put forth what is perhaps his most notable contribution-the concept of "aeropause," a region of "space-equivalent conditions" or 

34 
O~~~~~~~~~~~~~~,O 

An important bridge from avwtzon medicine to space medicine was this chart by 

Hubertus Strugh9ld in 1951. It related altitudes at which human functional borders 

occur with the altitudes at which the various physical characteristics of space occur. 

"atmospheric space equivalence." Strughold pointed out that while many astronomers, astrophysicists, and meteorologists set the boundary between the atmosphere and space at about 600 miles from Earth, the biological conditions of 

space begin much lower, at about 50,000 feet. Anoxia is encountered at 50,000 

feet, the boiling point of body fluids at 63,000 feet, the necessity for carrying 

all respiratory oxygen within a manned compartment at 80,000 feet, meteoroids 

at 75 miles, and the darkness of the space "void" at 100 miles. Above 100 miles 

the atmosphere is imperceptible to the flyer. "What we call upper atmosphere 

in the physical sense," said Strughold, "must be considered-in terms of biologyas space in its total form." Hence manned ballistic or orbital flight at an altitude 

of 100 miles would be, for all practical purposes, space flight.' 

The rocket-powered research airplanes of the postwar years, beginning with 

the X-I, the first manned vehicle to surpass the speed of sound, took American 

test pilots well into the region of space equivalence. On August 26, 1954, when 

Major Arthur Murray of the Air Force pushed the Bell X-IA to an altitude of 

35 

Miles 

600 

120 

100 

50 

10 

/ .o~~ 

Material Limit ..................................... __ .. ................ -- .... --.. 
 

1 
 

"? 

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200 

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20 
pilot to an altitude of 50 miles at nearly seven times the speed of sound. And 

human-factors research in the X-15 project, involving the development and testing of a new full-pressure flying suit, centrifuge conditioning to high acceleration 

forces, and telemetering a wide range of physiological data in flight, would contribute substantially to medical planning for space travel. D 

ZERO G 

At peak speed and altitude an X-I5 flight was supposed to afford about five 

minutes of "weightlessness" or "zero g." This is the effect created when a vehicle is balanced between centrifugal and centripetal forces-when the gravitational pull of Earth and other heavenly bodies is exactly balanced by the inertial 

character of the vehicle's motion. Weightlessness is undoubtedly the most fascinating medical characteristic of space flight, and it aroused the most speculation 

among aviation physicians in the late forties and early fifties. To be sure, approximations of zero g were not totally new human experiences; a common illustration of the sensation is the sudden partial lightening of the body in a rapidly 

descending elevator. But the necessity to function at zero g-to eat and drink, 

to eliminate body wastes, to operate the spacecraft controls-was a new requirement and presented new problems for the aeromedical teams. 

Flight physicians were almost unanimous in expressing forebodings about 

the effect of weightlessness on man's physical and mental performance. Some 

feared that the body organs depended on sustained gravity and would not function 

if deprived of the customary gravitational force. Others worried over the combined effects of acceleration, weightlessness, and the heavy deceleration during 

atmospheric entry. Still other experts were concerned especially about perception 

and equilibrium. For example, Heinz Haber and Qtto Gauer, another emigre 

German physician who joined the Air Force aeromedical program, noted that 

the brain receives signals on the position, direction, and support of the body from 

four mechanisms-pressure on the nerves and organs, muscle tone, posture, and 

the labyrinth of the inner ear. They theorized that these four mechanisms might 

give conflicting signals in the weightless state and that such disturbances "may 

deeply affect the autonomic nervous functions and ultimately produce a very 

severe sensation of succumbence associated with an absolute incapacity to act." 10 

The basic difficulty retarding the study of weightlessness was the impossibility 

of duplicating the exact condition on Earth. The X-15, considered by many 

in the mid-fifties to be the penultimate step to manned orbital flight, progressed 

slowly and would fly too late to shed much light on the problem of zero g for 

Project Mercury. By the fall of 1958, however, when the newly formed National 

36 
The best but most expensive device for zero-g experimentation was the sounding rocket. F or several years, beginning with the V-2 firings from White Sands, 

parachutes for nose cones containing rocket-launched animals invariably failed 

to open and the subjects were killed on impact. The first successful recovery 

came in September 1951, when an instrumented monkey and 11 mice survived 

an Aerobee launch to 236,000 feet from Holloman Air Force Base, New Mexico. 

The last of three Aerobee shots at Holloman, in May 1952, like the previous 

experiments, carried a camera on board to photograph two mice and two monkeys 

under acceleration, weightlessness, and deceleration. An Air Force aeromedical 

team, headed by James P. Henry, a physician who later would direct the Mercury 

animal program, and young Captain David G. Simons, found nO' adverse effects 

on the animals.ll 

For the next six years the priority military ballistic missile prO'gram almost 

monopolized rocket development in the United States. Medical experimentation 

employing live test subjects launched to high altitudes by rockets came to' a virtual 

standstill. By contrast, during the same period from 1952 to 1957, researchers in 

the Soviet Union carried out numerO'us animal rocket flights, with dogs of the 

Pavlovian sort being their favorite passengers. By late 1957, when the Soviets 

sent the dog Laika into orbit aboard Sputnik I I, the peak altitude of their vertical 

launches of animals was nearly 300 miles, and the Russian scientists had perfected 

a technique for catapulting animals from nose cones and recovering them with 

parachutes. Apparently the Russians also were able to measure a wider range of 

physiological reactions than their American counterparts. 12 

During the six-year hiatus in animal rocket experimentation in this country, 

investigators had to resort to the aircraft, "the oldest aeromedical laboratory," for 

studying the weightless phenomenon. 13 In 1950, Fritz and Heinz Haber, of the 

Air Force School of Aviation Medicine, had considered various ways of simulating 

zero g for medical experiments. Discarding the free fall and the elevator ride, the 

Habers concluded that the best technique involved an airplane flight along a 

vertical parabola, or "Keplerian trajectory." If properly executed, such a maneuver could provide as much as 35 seconds of zero g and a somewhat longe~_ period 

of subgravity, a condition wherein the body is under only partial gravitational 

stress. 14 During the summer and fall of 1951 test pilots A. Scott Crossfield of 

NACA and Charles E. Yeager of the Air Force tried out the technique, flying a 

number of Keplerian trajectories in jet interceptors. Up to 20 seconds of weightlessness resulted from some of these flights. Crossfield reported initial "befuddlement" during zero g but no serious loss of muscle coordination, while Yeager 

described a sensation of falling and in one instance of spinning and feeling "lost 

in space." The latter sensation the physicians and psychologists called 

"disorientation." 15 

37 
generalizing about this greatest anomaly of space flight. 

In 1953 a small group comprising the Space Biology Branch of the Aeromedical Field Laboratory at Holloman Air Force Base inaugurated an ambitious 

program of parabolic flights to continue the investigations of weightless flight that 

had halted with the termination of the Aerobee animal launches in the spring of 

1952. Supervised by Major David G. Simons, a physician who acted as test subject on many occasions, the Holloman studies for two years utilized T -33 and F-89 

jet aircraft. Late in 1955, after Captain Grover J. D. Schock came to the field 

laboratory as task scientist, the standard tool for zero g research became the F-94C, 

which offered a longer parabola than other aircraft and thus a longer period of 

weightlessness. In the summer of 1958 the Air Force canceled all zero-g research 

at Holloman, and the coterie of scientists broke up. Colonel John P. Stapp, head 

of the field laboratory, and Simons went elsewhere, while Schock turned his attention to other research projects. IT 

For three years before the termination of the Holloman flight program, students of zero g at the School of Aviation Medicine had duplicated and even surpassed the investigations being carried out in New Mexico. Although sponsored 

by the Department of Space Medicine, the program carried out at Randolph Air 

Force Base was actually directed by Siegfried Gerathewohl, who was not a member 

of the department. Gerathewohl and his colleagues began their studies with the 

T-33 jet trainer, but like their counterparts in New Mexico, they soon turned to 

the superior F-94C. Major Herbert D. Stallings, a Randolph physician, estimated that by April 1958 he had flown more than 4000 zero-g trajectories and 

compiled about 37 hours of weightless flight. IS 

Gerathewohl, Simons, Schock, and the other scientists at Randolph and Holloman tried to get as great a variety of information as possible during the 30 to 40 

seconds of weightlessness and subgravity produced by the F-94C flights. They 

carried out numerous eye-hand coordination tests, for example, wherein a subject 

tried to make crosses in a pattern or hit a target with a metal stylus. Subjects 

usually missed their mark in the first moments of zero g or subgravity, but most of 

them improved their performance with their cumulative experience. The Air 

Force scientists also studied eating and drinking, bladder function, and disorientation after awakening during weightlessness; the functions at zero g of various 

animals, especially cats, whose vestibular organs had been removed; and the 

phenomenon called the "oculo-agravic illusion," wherein luminous objects seen 

in the dark appear to move upward during weightlessness. 1D 

At the Wright Air Development Center, in Ohio, a team of researchers headed 

by Major Edward L. Brown picked up the experimental program discontinued at 

Holloman in mid-1958, except that they used the relatively slow, propeller-driven 

38 
nation and locomotion and even their ability to walk along the ceiling while wearing 

shoes with magnetic soles. 20 

In general the aeromedical specialists at Randolph, Holloman, and WrightPatterson-as well as those in more modest programs at the Navy School of 

Aviation Medicine, Pensacola, Florida, and at the N ACA Lewis Flight Propulsion 

Laboratory in Cleveland-found that the principal problems of weightless flight 

seemed solvable. Eating and drinking at zero g were not troublesome when 

squeeze bottles and tubes were used, and urination presented no real difficulty. 

Some subjects suffered nausea, disorientation, loss of coordination, and other 

disturbances, but the majority reported that after they adjusted to the condition 

they found it "pleasant" and had a feeling of "well-being.":!l As early as 1955, 

Simons concluded that weightlessness produced no abnormalities with regard to 

heart rate and arterial and venous blood pressure, while Henry, Simons' colleague 

in the Aerobee animal experiments, prophesied, "In the skilled pilot weightlessness 

will probably have very little significance." 2:! And in 1959, about a year after 

Project Mercury got underway, Gerathewohl remarked that "the majority of 

flying personnel enjoy the exposure to the subgravity state in our controlled 

experiments. We have reason to believe that even longer periods of absolute 

weightlessness can be tolerated if the crew is properly conditioned and equipped." 23 

MULTIPLE G 

Another problem perplexing aeromedical experts as the era of space flight 

neared was the effect on the human body of the heavy acceleration and deceleration forces, called "g loads," building up during rocket-propelled flights into space 

at speeds far greater than those yet experienced by man. Many fighter pilots in 

the Second World War had suffered momentary pain and blurred vision during 

"redout," when blood pooled in the head and eyes during an outside loop, or 

"blackout," when the heart suddenly could not pump enough blood to the head 

region as an airplane pulled out of a steep dive. Acceleration of a vehicle into 

space and the deceleration accompanying its return to the atmosphere would 

subject a man to g loads several times the normal accelerative force of gravity. 

In other words, for parts of a space mission a man would come to "weigh" several 

times what he normally did on Earth; a severe strain would be imposed on his 

body organs. 

At the Aeromedical Field Laboratory in New Mexico, Harald J. von Beckh, 

a physician who had immigrated from Germany by way of the Instituto Nacional 

de Medicina Aeromlutica in Buenos Aires, was especially concerned about the 

ability of a space traveler to tolerate the high deceleration forces of atmospheric 

entry after several hours of weightlessness. In the last few months before such 

39 
After a number of these parabolic-spiral flights, he reported pessimistically, 

"Alternation of weightlessness and acceleration results in a decrease of acceleration 

tolerance and of the efficiency of physiologic recovery mechanisms ... Because 

there is a decreased acceleration tolerance," he warned, "every effort must be 

made to reduce G loads to a minimum.~' ::!I 

Throughout the 1950s a substantial number of aeromedical experts concerned 

themselves with acceleration-deceleration loads per se, not necessarily in connection 

with the gravity-free state. Research on g forces reached back for decades, to 

the primitive period of aviation medicine. The state of knowledge with regard 

to the physiology of acceleration-deceleration was still hazy and fluid in the early 

fifties, although for at least 25 years aviation physicians in Europe and the United 

States had been studying blackout, redout, impact forces, and other effects of 

high g in aircraft.::!·· The V-2 and Aerobee animal rocket shots also had added 

to research data on the problem. But until the X-15 was ready, researchers had 

about exhausted the airplane as a tool for studying g loads, and from 1952 to 

1958 experimentation with animal-carrying rockets was suspended in the United 

States. Consequently American scientists had to turn to two devices on the 

ground-the rocket-powered impact sled, used for studying the immediate onset 

of g loads, and the centrifuge, where the slower buildup of g could be simulatedto enlarge what they knew about the limits of human endurance of heavy 

acceleration and deceleration. 

On December 10, 1954, Lieutenant Colonel John P. Stapp of the Aeromedical 

Field Laboratory gave an amazing demonstration of a man's ability to withstand 

immediate impact forces. Stapp rode a rocket-driven impact sled on the 3550-foot 

Holloman research track to a velocity of 937 feet per second and received an 

impact force of 35 to 40 g for a fraction of a second as the sled slammed to a 

halt in a water trough.::!G In February 1957 a chimpanzee rocketed down the 

track, now 5000 feet long, braked to a stop, and survived a load of some 247 g for 

a millisecond, with a rate of onset of 16,000 g per second. And 15 months later, 

on the 120-foot "daisy track" at Holloman, Captain Eli L. Beeding, seated upright 

and facing backward, experienced the highest deceleration peak yet recorded on 

a human being-83 g for .04 of a second, with 3826 g per second as the calculated 

rate of onset. Afterward Beeding, recovering from shock and various minor 

injuries, judged that 83 g represented about the limit of human tolerance for 

deceleration. ::! 7 

Such studies of deceleration were not directed primarily toward space missions 

but rather toward the problem of survival after ejection from or crashes in 

high-performance aircraft. The Holloman sled runs of the fifties, however, did 

broaden considerably the available data on the absolute limits of man's ability 

40 
reasoned that a properly restrained, aftfacing human being could withstand a 

land impact of some 80 knots (135 feet per second) in a spacecraft if the g forces 

were applied transversely, or through the body, and if the spacecraft did not 

collapse on him.~s 

The centrifuge, the other laboratory tool used by students of accelerationdeceleration patterns, became increasingly useful in the fifties. The basic feature 

of the centrifuge was a large mechanical arm with a man-carrying gondola or 

platform mounted on the end, within which a test subject would be rotated at 

high angular velocities. Centrifuge experiments had more immediate pertinence 

to space medicine than impact sled tests, because on the "wheel" investigators 

could duplicate the relatively gradual buildup of g forces encountered during 

the launch and reentry portions of ballistic, orbital, or interplanetary flight. In 

the fifties, centrifuges existed at several places in the United States. The bestknown and most used were at the Navy's Aviation Medical Acceleration Laboratory, Johnsville, Pennsylvania, and 8J the Aeromedical Laboratory at WrightPatterson Air Force Base. During the decade, researchers at Johnsville, WrightPatterson, and elsewhere simulated a wide variety of acceleration and deceleration 

profiles, using an almost equally wide variety of body positions and support systems, 

to compile an impressive quantity of data on the reactions of potential space 

pilots to heavy g forces. 2fJ 

Just after the Second World War, Qtto Gauer and Heinz Haber, who had 

conducted centrifuge experiments for the German Air Force, proposed a series 

of acceleration patterns, ranging from 3 g for 9Y2 minutes to 10 g for 2 minutes, 

all of which would be tolerable for a space pilot. 30 Then, in 1952, E. R. Ballinger, 

leader of the research program at Wright-Patterson, conducted one of the earliest 

series of centrifuge tests directed expressly toward the problem of g forces in 

space flight. Ballinger found that 3 g applied transversely would be the ideal 

takeoff pattern from the physiological standpoint, but he realized that the rocket 

burning time and velocity for such a pattern would be insufficient to propel a 

spacecraft out of the atmosphere. Consequently he and his associates subjected 

men to gradually increasing g loads, building to peaks of 109 for something 

over two minutes. Chest pain, shortness of breath, and occasional loss of consciousness were the symptoms of those subjected to the higher g loads. The tests 

led Ballinger to the conclusion that 8 g represented the acceleration safety limit for 

a space passenger. 31 

Data gained from the first Soviet and American instrumented satellites of late 

1957 and early 1958 showed that the atmosphere reached considerably farther 

out than scientists previously had realized. Until these disclosures aeromedical 

experts had assumed that the deceleration, or backward acceleration, forces of 

reentry, producing what was graphically described as an "eyeballs out" sensation, 

41 
five chimpanzees to a peak of 40 g for one minute. Post-run examinations of 

the primates showed internal injuries, including heart malfunctions. It appeared 

that prolonged subjection to high g might be severely injurious or perhaps even 

fatal to a man.3 ~ 

The tests conducted by Ballinger at Wright-Patterson and the interservice 

experiments with the chimpanzees on the Navy centrifuge featured frontward 

(eyeballs-in) application of g loads during the launch profile, backward application (eyeballs-out) during the reentry simulation, and the use of rather elaborate 

restraint straps and basic aircraft bucket seats as a support system. The problem 

of determining optimum body position and support was vigorously attacked by 

biodynamicists during 1957 and 1958. A series of especially careful studies on 

the Wright Air Development Center centrifuge indicated that when the subject 

was positioned so that the g forces were applied transversely and backward to the 

center of rotation, breathing became easier. Acceleration-deceleration patterns of 

12 g for 4 seconds, 8 g for 41 seconds, and 5 g for 2 minutes were endured without great difficulty by practically all the volunteer subjects, some having even 

higher tolerance limits. Results of runs on the Johnsville centrifuge with the subjects in an aft-facing position for both acceleration and deceleration patterns also 

appeared favorable.33 

The students of g forces tried various support devices in the late fifties in 

their search for ways to increase human tolerance to acceleration and deceleration 

loads. One specialist in the Wright-Patterson centrifuge group came up with 

a suit of interwoven nylon and cotton material, reinforced by nylon belting, 

and attached to the pilot seat at six places to absorb the g loads and distribute 

them more evenly over the entire body. Later, Wright-Patterson scientists using 

a nylon netting arrangement in conjunction with a contour couch were able to 

expose several men to a peak of 16.5 g for several seconds without any discoverable 

adverse effects. Other Air Force specialists experimented with subjects partially 

enclosed in a "rigid envelope," actually a plaster cast, as protection against both 

g-load buildup and impact forces. And von Beckh, whose concern with the 

weightlessness-deceleration puzzle led him to experiment with anti-g techniques, 

developed a device called "multi-directional g protection," a compartment that 

turned automatically to ensure that the g forces were always applied transversely 

on its occupant. Von Beckh's invention was used to protect a rat that went 

along on Beeding's record sled run in 1958, and a modified compartment carried 

three mice on a Thor-Able rocket launch the same year. Results in both experiments were encouraging.3 

-l 

Navy scientists were especially interested in water immersion as a means of 

minimizing g loads. Researchers in Germany, Canada, and the United States 

42 
Medicine and, after the giant centrifuge began operation in 1952, in Johnsville.;; 

In 1956, R. Flanagan Gray, a physician at the Johnsville laboratory, designed 

an aluminum centrifuge capsule that could be filled with water and was large 

enough to hold a man. After some initial troubles installing the contraption on 

the centrifuge and perfecting an emergency automatic flushing mechanism, the 

"Iron Maiden," as it was rather inaccurately nicknamed, went into use. In 

March 1958, Gray, immersed to his ribs in a bathtub-like device developed at the 

Mayo Clinic during the Second World War, had endured 16 g of headward (head 

to feet) acceleration. Then, the next year, Gray enclosed himself in the Iron 

Maiden and, positioned backward to the center of rotation and immersed in 

water above the top of his head, held his breath during the 25-second pattern 

to withstand a peak of 31 g transverse acceleration for five seconds. This performance with the water-filled aluminum capsule established a new record for tolerance 

of centrifuge g loads. 3G 

Nylon netting, multidirectional positioning, and water immersion were all 

promising methods for combating g forces and expanding human endurance limits. But netting had a troublesome tendency to bounce the subject forward as 

the g forces diminished, while directional positioning and water-immersion apparatus required more space and weight than would be available in a small, relatively light spacecraft. 37 And considering the thrust limitations of the Thor, the 

Atlas, or the somewhat larger Titan ICBM, a small spacecraft was the only feasible 

design for an American manned satellite in 1958. 

At the inception of the NASA manned satellite project, in the fall of 1958, the 

apparent solution to the problem of body support was an anti-g contrivance developed not by biodynamicists but by a group of practicing aerodynamicists in NACA's 

Pilotless Aircraft Research Division, part of the Langley Aeronautical Laboratory 

in Virginia. Maxime A. Faget, William M. Bland, Jr., Jack C. Heberlig, and a 

few other N ACA engineers had designed an extremely strong and lightweight 

couch, made of fiber glass, which could be contoured to fit the body dimensions of 

a particular man. In the spring of 1958, technicians and shopmen at Langley 

molded the first of a series of test-model contour couches. The following July a 

group from Langley went to the Aviation Medical Acceleration Laboratory at 

Johnsville to tryout their couch on the Navy's big centrifuge. 38 

The Navy biodynamicists and the NACA engineers experimented with the 

couch and various body positions in an effort to amplify a g-load tolerance. The 

couch made at Langley had been molded to fit the physical dimensions of Robert 

A. Champine, one of the foremost NACA test pilots. Champine rode the Johnsville centrifuge to a peak of 12 g on July 29, then departed for a conference on 

the Pacific Coast. The next day Navy Lieutenant Carter C. Collins volunteered 

to test the couch. Since his frame was smaller than Champine's, the Johnsville 

43 
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Mercury 

One of the most critical design and feasibility 

problems in the early days of Mercury was 

whether the astronaut could be safely restrained and supported through the succession 

of vibration levels, g forces, weightlessness, 

and more g forces that would occur in space 

flight. Langley laboratory engineers conceived the contour couch (left) in 1958, and 

refined it enough to try a model (b elow) tn 

1959. 
Couch 

After the couch concept had been devised) 

there was the problem of a system to provide 

the contradictory combination of restraint) 

cushioning) and support. An early couch of 

nylon netting (right) was ruled out because 

it bounced the occupant forward as g forces 

diminished. The final choice was fiber glass 

cast to the contour of each astronaut (below) 

and equipped with restraining straps. 
reached a peak of 12 g. Five more runs pushed the peak to 18 g. Then, on the 

sixth try, using a grunting technique to avoid blackout and chest pains, Collins 

withstood a peak of 20.7 g, applied transversely for a duration of six seconds. 

Later that day, Gray, inventor of the Iron Maiden, rode the centrifuge with the 

contour couch and also endured a 20-g peak. The acceleration patterns to which 

Collins and Gray were exposed corresponded to a reentry angle of 7.5 degrees. 

!\t that time the optimum reentry angle being considered for a manned satellite, 

1.5 degrees, theoretically would expose the spacecraft passenger to only 9 g.3D 

The NACA engineers, already working overtime on designs for a manned 

orbital capsule, were elated. It seemed that they finally had an effective anti-g 

device that was small enough and light enough to fit into a one-ton ballistic capsule they had in mind for the initial manned space venture.10 They had, in fact, 

made a major contribution to the protection of a space rider from sustained high 

g forces, although they did not fully realize as yet that body angles were more 

significant features of the couch than its contoured support. 

The procedure ultimately used for protecting the Mercury astronauts from the 

g loads of acceleration to orbital velocity and deceleration during reentry represented a combination of the advantages gained from many experiments by military 

and other specialists in flight physiology, as well as from the ingenuity of the aeronautical engineers in NACA and NASA. Although the idea of using a hammock 

either for the basic support or in combination with the contour couch was perennially attractive to the human-factors experts in Project Mercury, all Mercury 

astronauts sat in essentially the same couch designed by Faget and his coworkers 

in the spring of 1958. But added to this basic technique were restraining straps, 

a semi-supine posture, frontward application of acceleration loads, and the reversal 

of the spacecraft attitude during orbit to permit frontward imposition of reentry 

loads as well. The final elements in the NACA-NASA campaign to minimize 

the effects of insertion-reentry g buildups was the usc as astronauts of experienced 

test pilots provided by the military services. During the centrifuge experiment" 

of the fifties such men had consistently proved capable of withstanding higher g 

forces than nonpilots. 

ENVIRONMENTAL CONTROL 

High-altitude atmospheric flight had necessitated much work related to two 

serious physiological problems of space flight-air supply and the pressure required for breathing in space. Research on these problems in the United States 

stretched back to 1918, when the Army began operation of a decompression 

chamber at Hazelhurst Field, Long Island. In the early 1930s the civilian aviator 

46 
as an extra protection in case of cabin decompression. 

Air compression, however, is not practicable above 80,000 feet. Travel outside the breathable atmosphere, whether into space or to the bottom of the sea, 

necessitates living inside a hermetically sealed compartment, a completely airtight 

ecological system in which carbon dioxide exhaled by the traveler is constantly 

replaced by an onboard supply of pure oxygen or some combination approximating the nitrogen-oxygen composition at sea level. In this area of space flight 

research-space cabin environment-the Air Force achieved preeminence in the 

early fifties with the development of the first sealed space cabin. 

The sealed space cabin had two essential precursors. One was the sealed 

gondola for stratospheric ballooning, used by the Swiss twins Auguste and Jean 

Piccard in several flights to altitudes of around 10 miles in the 1930s and in the 

Explorer II ascent of 1935, which carried Army experimenters Orvil A. Anderson 

and A. W. Stevens to 72,335 feet l.nd set a record that stood for 20 years.4~ 

The other was the closed underwater environment of the bathysphere, used for 

many years in deep-sea exploration, and of the submarine. In the fifties, Air 

Force research on the sealed space cabin paralleled similar work by Navy scientists 

on an environmental control system for the new atomic-powered submarines, 

which were being designed to remain totally submerged for months. 43 

In 1952, Fritz Haber, of the Air Force School of Aviation Medicine, drew 

blueprints for a sealed chamber to be used for space medicine research; at the 

urging of Hubertus Strughold the Air Force let a contract for its construction. 

The Guardite Company of Chicago delivered a completed cabin in the summer 

of 1954. 11 "Nobody took notice of a 'sealed cabin,' " recalled Strughold. "We 

had to have a name that would attract attention to our work. So I named it the 

'Space Cabin Simulator.' ~, -1,-, 

The cabin provided about 100 cubic feet of living space, room enough for 

an ordinary aircraft seat and a panel of lights, switches, and displays to test the 

psychological reactions of the subject. It had systems for air conditioning, oxygen 

supply and carbon dioxide absorption, urine distillation, and the recycling of the 

distilled urine together with air moisture to provide water pure enough to drink. 

Cabin pressure was maintained constantly at a level equivalent to an altitude of 

18,000 to 25,000 feet. 4G 

The space cabin simulator received its first national publicity in March 1956, 

when Airman D. F. Smith spent 24 hours in the chamber at San Antonio, performing a number of tasks for psychological monitoring and wearing instrumentation to record his heart action, temperature, and respiration rate. During the 

next two years, Lieutenant Colonel George R. Steinkamp, Captain Julian Ward, 

and George T. Hauty, who had charge of the simulations, gradually increased the 

duration of- the tests. On February 16, 1958, four and a half months after 

47 
that duplicated life inside a spacecraft in every respect except the weightless 

condition.. 17 

The Farrell experiment provided no unexpected physiological data. But 

Hauty, chiefly interested in the psychological portion of the simulation, reported 

that the daily log kept by Farrell showed a deterioration from good spirits to "the 

seemingly abrupt onset of frank hostility." Farrell's mental condition "reached 

the point of becoming the single conceivable reason for a premature termination 

of the flight." Hauty noted that Farrell's proficiency at tasks assigned to him 

also deteriorated severely as the experiment progressed. 1 

i-i 

The psychological data from the early space cabin simulator tests, as well as 

observation of subjects in the isolation chamber at Wright-Patterson Air Force 

Base, were not encouraging. Major Charles A. Berry, an Air Force physician 

who later would work closely with the astronauts in Project Mercury, perhaps 

expressed the consensus among space medicine investigators by 1958: "The psychological problems presented by the exposure of man to an isolated, uncomfortable void seem to be more formidable than the physiological problems." 4 !1 

MATTER FROM SPACE 

Even after enclosing himself in a sealed cabin and adjusting to prolonged isolation, the first man in space ran the danger of being killed by decompression if 

his cabin were punctured by one of the myriad meteoroids, ranging in size from 

less than a millimeter up to several meters, that constantly bombard Earth's 

atmosphere. Stl Impact with a meteoroid, even one the size of a BB shot, conceivably could put a hole in the structure of a spacecraft and cause death to its 

occupant through either gradual or explosive cabin decompression. 

In the forties and early fifties scientists varied widely in their guesses as to 

the probability of meteoroid impact. Fletcher G. Watson, a Harvard University 

astronomer, predicted in 1946 that at least one of every 25 space ships going 

to the Moon would be destroyed by collision with a meteoroid. Two years later 

George Grimminger, a mathematician with the Rand Corporation, estimated 

that a spacecraft with an exposed area of 1000 square feet would be hit by a 

particle with a diameter of Y2 millimeter only about once every 15 years. As 

late as 1951, however, Fred L. Whipple of Harvard, one of the principal American 

authorities on meteoroids, was rather pessimistic about the chances of avoiding 

meteoroid penetration and suggested thick shielding on the spacecraft to guard 

against structural damage. c,l 

The early instrumented satellites sent up by the Soviet Union and the United 

States did much to dispel the fears of the space flight enthusiasts about meteoroids. 

48 
pieces of matter penetrated the satellite

s outer skin. Data from the much larger 

Russian Sputnik III, sent into orbit in May 1958, indicated that an orbiting spacecraft with a surface of 1000 square meters (10,760 square feet) would be hit 

by a meteoroid weighing at least one gram only once every 14,000 hours. And 

Explorer V I, orbited by the United States in the late summer of 1959, encountered 

meteoroid dust particles only 28 times during the first two days it was in orbit.;'~ 

These data prompted a human-factors specialist for one of the major aerospace 

firms to conclude that for low orbital missions in a manned spacecraft "the danger 

from meteorite [sic] penetration is minor to negligible in comparison to the other 

hazards of such flights.";; ~ Nevertheless, Project Mercury astronauts would wear 

a full-pressure suit, a closed ecological system in itself, so that if cabin decompression occurred each astronaut could live until his space capsule could be brought 

back to Earth. 

SPACE RADIATION 

In addition to weightlessness, g loads, air, water, and food supply, isolation, 

and meteoroids, the problems of space flight included protecting the passenger 

from different kinds of electromagnetic radiation found above the atmosphere. 

Of the varieties of radiations in space the most mysterious is cosmic radiation, 

the source of which presents one of the grandest puzzles in nuclear astrophysics. 

Some of this radiation possibly comes from the Sun, but the preponderance of 

the cosmic rays bombarding Earth's atmosphere evidently originates outside 

the solar system-thus the term "cosmic" radiation. High-energy cosmic ray 

primaries-subatomic particles, of which about 90 percent are protons of hydrogen 

and helium-slam into the atmosphere at velocities approaching the speed of 

light. Fifteen to 25 miles above Earth, the cosmic ray primaries collide with 

atoms and molecules in the thickening atmosphere, are broken up, and are converted into lower-energy rays called secondaries. Above 25 miles the atmosphere 

becomes too thin to absorb the cosmic ray primaries; since they are capable of 

penetrating a thick lead wall, it was futile to try to shield a spacecraft pilot completely. So in the early 1950s medical researchers, assuming that a space pilot 

would be exposed to some cosmic radiation, approached the problem primarily 

from the angle of establishing how large a dose a human being could tolerate.'·-l 

As with weightlessness and g-load research, the best postwar device for studying cosmic radiation was the instrumented sounding rocket. But the last of the 

rocket experiments with primates occurred in May 1952. From that time until 

animal rocket shots resumed in 1958, the only upper-atmospheric research rockets 

fired in the country were occasional Aerobees, launched by the Air Force to altitudes of about 150 miles. ":; These shots, carrying only instruments, brought back 

a modicum of data on cosmic rays. The prime instrument for cosmic ray re49 
creasing number of giant, shiny spheres floating over the United States, multiplied 

reports of and popular interest in "Unidentified Flying Objects." " ,G 

In the balloon-borne space radiation experiments of the fifties, the Navy carried 

out some notable manned ascents into the stratosphere. On November 8, 1956, 

for example, Lieutenant Commanders Malcolm D. Ross and M. L. Lewis, as 

part of the Navy'S Strato-Lab program of manned ascents from northern latitudes, 

reached 76,000 feet, then an altitude record. Less than a year later Ross and 

Lewis sat in their cramped sealed gondola as their huge polyethylene balloon 

ascended to nearly 86,000 feet. And in late June 1958 the same two Navy 

aerostation veterans remained in the 70,000-80,000-foot region for almost 35 

hours.:'7 

The Navy also pioneered in the use of balloon-launched rockets (rockoons). 

The first successful rockoon launch occurred in August 1952 when, from a ship 

off the coast of Greenland, a University of Iowa team headed by physicist James A. 

Van Allen sent up a balloon from which a rocket ignited at 70,000 feet and climbed 

to an altitude of nearly 40 miles. The Navy did most of its upper-atmospheric 

research, however, with instrumented balloon flights carrying small organisms and 

insects. In May 1954, for example, General Mills, Incorporated, under contract 

to the Office of Naval Research, launched a polyethylene balloon, with a capacity of 

3 million cubic feet, that carried cosmic ray emulsions-plates designed for recording the tracks of ionizing particles-to an altitude of 115,000 feet. Five years 

later, from Sioux Falls, South Dakota, Raven Industries launched an Office of 

Naval Research balloon biological package to a record altitude of 148,000 feet. 5s 

The center of Air Force balloon research in the early 1950s was the Aeromedical Field Laboratory in New Mexico. From July 21,1950, when Air Force 

personnel launched the first polyethylene balloon at Holloman Air Force Base, to 

December 18, 1958, the scientists at the field laboratory sent up 1000 research 

balloons, although only a small number of these ascents were designed expressly 

for cosmic ray study. In 1953 the Holloman researchers moved most of their 

balloon experiments to the northern United States, in the higher geomagnetic latitudes, where they could obtain increased exposure to cosmic ray primaries. During the next year they sent aloft a collection of radish seeds on a series of flights, 

compiling some 251 hours of exposure of the seeds above 80,000 feet. Monkeys, 

mice, rats, hamsters, and rabbits also drifted upward in balloons launched by 

Winzen Research, Incorporated, as a Holloman contractor, from Sault Ste. Marie, 

Michigan. The most interesting effect observed among the various test subjects 

was a striking increase in the number of gray hairs on black mice exposed to the 

high altitudes. 50 

The first solo manned ascent into the stratosphere was also principally an under50 
pg

tion. David Simons, head of the Space Biology Branch at Holloman, was project 

officer for the Manhigh ascents. The initial flight, from Fleming Field, Minnesota, took place on June 2,1957. Captain Joseph W. Kittinger stayed aloft inside 

his sealed gondola for nearly seven hours, breathing pure oxygen, making visual 

observations, and talking frequently with John P. Stapp, the flight surgeon, and 

other physicians on the ground. Kittinger spent two hours above 92,000 feet; 

his maximum altitude during the flight was 96,000 feet. GO 

About nine weeks later Simons himself entered the space equivalent region, 

suspended in a sealed capsule below a 3-million-cubic-foot polyethylene balloon 

launched from an open-face mine near Crosby, Minnesota. Simons exceeded 

Kittinger's mark for both duration and altitude, staying aloft 32 hours and remaining at 101,000 feet for about 5 hours. Simons was the first man in history to see 

the Sun set and then rise again from the edge of space. In the M anhigh II gondola he spent more time than anyone before him looking upward at the blackness of 

space and outward at the white and blue layers of the atmosphere. "The capsule 

seemed like a welcome window permitting a fabulous view and precious opportunities, not a prison or an enclosure," he related after the flight. G1 

In October 1958 an excessive temperature rise in the capsule forced a premature termination of the third Manhigh flight, carrying Lieutenant Clifton M. 

McClure. G2 Yet McClure's ascent, together with those of Kittinger and Simons, 

proved the workability of the sealed cabin for sustaining human life where "the 

environment is as hostile and very nearly as different in appearance as one would 

expect to observe from a satellite." C3 The environmental control system of the 

Manhigh capsule and the instrumentation for physiological telemetering were 

strikingly similar to those later used in the Mercury spacecraft. 

With regard to cosmic radiation, however, the Manhigh flights, like numerous 

rocket, balloon, and laboratory experiments of previous and succeeding years, 

returned data that were either negative or inconclusive. During the M anhigh I I 

ascent two containers of bread mold were attached to the underside of the capsule, 

and Simons wore emulsion plates on his arms and chest to measure cosmic ray 

penetration. The plates did show indications of several hits by so-called "heavy" 

primaries-cosmic ray particles made up of nuclear particles heavier than are found 

in hydrogen or helium-but years later the skin in the area of the plates revealed 

no effects of radiation. G4 

All these experiments left most scientists as reluctant to speculate about the 

hazards from cosmic rays in flight as they had been in the early fifties. Simons 

felt that in manned orbital flights following roughly equatorial orbits, where the 

spacecraft remained within the protective shielding of Earth's magnetic fields, the 

spacecraft pilot would be in no danger from cosmic radiation. Yet he remained 

51 
that continuous voice contact between ground stations and the space pilot would 

be essential, as well as stepped-up efforts to predict the flares. c

::; 

All proponents of manned space flight were alarmed when information transmitted from the first three Explorer satellites, launched during the first half of 

1958, disclosed the existence of a huge envelope of radiation beyond the ionosphere. Evidently consisting of protons and electrons trapped in Earth's magnetic 

field, the radiation layer begins about 400 miles out in space and doubles in 

intensity about every 60 miles before tapering away about 1200 miles from Earth. 

This discovery was the first "Van Allen belt," named after James A. Van Allen, 

United States director of the International Geophysical Year radiation experiments. The Pioneer III probe, launched in December 1958, failed to reach 

escape velocity, but it did reveal that the radiation zone consisted not of one belt 

but of two at least-an inner belt of high-energy particles and an outer belt of 

less energetic particles. Two earlier Pioneer shots, in October and November, 

had shown that while the radiation zone was several thousand miles deep, it did 

not extend into space indefinitely.CG Quite obviously, the doughnut-shaped 

Van Allen belts would pose a serious threat for manned travel in high orbits 

or interplanetary voyages. In the early manned ventures into space, however, a 

spacecraft could be placed in an orbit 100 to 150 miles from Earth, high enough 

to be free of atmospheric frictional drag, yet low enough to stay under the 

Van Allen radiation. 67 

The radiation hazards of space flight also include solar radiation. Solar heat, 

ultraviolet rays, and x-rays all become much more intense beyond the diffusive 

atmosphere of Earth, but they can be adequately counteracted by space cabin 

insulation, shielding, refractive paint, and other techniques. Advanced space 

missions may subject astronauts to dangers from other kinds of radiation, such 

as the radiation belts surrounding other planets or the radioactivity produced by 

a spacecraft with a nuclear powerplant. 68 

A REASON FOR RESEARCH 

During 1958, scientists and engineers, both military and civilian, talked more 

openly than they had in previous years about radiation dosages, meteoroid 

penetration, weightlessness, and the other anomalies of space travel. They received a considerably more respectful hearing. What made members of the 

Congress and Americans in general responsive to such discussions and interested 

in past research and future plans for space exploration were the ever-larger 

scientific satellites launched by the Soviet Union, beginning October 4, 1957. In 

the midst of the nationalistic humiliation following the Sputniks, not only space 

52 
the Navy School of Aviation Medicine dispatched monkeys, sea

urchin eggs and 

sperm, molds, tissues, and seeds on two test firings of the]upiter intermediaterange missile, carried out by the Army Ballistic Missile Agency.G:) 

The new focus on space, the new curiosity about what went on beyond the 

atmosphere, the determination to "catch up" in the space race- these sentiments 

redounded to the benefit of those Americans who had been trying to solve the 

biological and technological puzzles of manned space flight long before there 

was a space race. Their principal stimulus was not international prestige or 

the drive for technological supremacy; it was a desire to discover the undiscovered, 

to probe into the unknown. And they believed that wherever man's instruments 

went, man should follow. The proponents of manned space flight in the United 

States could be found in several locations-in the military, in some universities, 

in the aerospace industry, even in the Congress. But an especially zealous contingent worked for NACA. Ultimately its members would become the engineering 

and managerial nucleus of the American program to rocket a man into orbit 

around Earth and bring him back. 

53 
 

nnn 
 I ........................................................................................................................................................

Aeronautics to Astronautics: NACA Research 

(1952-1957) 

TITTLE known outside the military services and the aircraft industry, th

L National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics by the early 1950s had fa

outgrown its name and could look back on nearly four decades filled with land

mark contributions to military and civilian aeronautics. NACA had mature

much beyond its original "advisory" capacity, had established three nationallabo

ratories, and had become perhaps the world's foremost aeronautical researc

organization. Drag-reducing engine cowlings, wing fillets, retractable landin

gear, thin swept wings, and new fuselage shapes for supersonic aircraft-thes

were only a few of the numerous innovations leading to improved airplane pe

formance that were wholly or partially attributable to the agency. NACA ha

pioneered in institutionalized team research-"big science," as opposed to th

"little science" of individual researchers working alone or in small academi

groups-and over the years such activity had paid off handsomely for the Nation

NACA's relative importance in the totality of American aeronautics had decline

after the Second W orld War with the enormous increase in military researc

and development programs, but NACA did not exaggerate when it asserted tha

practically every airplane aloft reflected some aspect of its research achievements. 

The contributions of NACA in aeronautics were spectacular, but regarding th

inchoate discipline of astronautics, especially rocket propulsion research, th

agency, like the rest of the country, was skeptical, conservative, reticent. Th

prevailing prewar attitude within NACA toward rocket technology was expresse

in 1940 by Jerome C. Hunsaker, then a member and later chairman of NACA

Main Committee. Discussing an Army Air Corps contract with the Californi

Institute of Technology for rocket research in relation to current NACA wor

on the deicing of aircraft windshields, Hunsaker said to Theodore von Karman o

CalTech, "You can have the Buck Rogers job." ~ 

In the early postwar years the leaders of NACA viewed rocket experimentation

such as the program beginning in 1945 at the Pilotless Aircraft Research Sta

55 
structural heating only in the context of aircraft. :l 

At the request of the military services, the Langley, Lewis, and Ames laboratories did study the theoretical performance of missiles, the operation of rocket 

engines, the composition of rocket fuels, and automatic control arrangements 

for supersonic guided missiles and aircraft. But such research accounted for 

only a small percentage of the total NACA workload and budgetary allotments. 

The annual budget cuts suffered by NACA, beginning in 1949 and reaching a 

high point in 1954 when the agency received only a little more than half its 

request, perhaps intensified the scientific conservatism of the NACA leaders, 

while the Korean War once again shifted most NACA laboratory work to the 

"cleaning up" of military aircraft.'! It was in this climate of declining support 

for flight research in 1953 that NACA Director Hugh L. Dryden, who less than 

ten years later would be helping manage a manned lunar-landing program, wrote, 

"I am reasonably sure that travel to the moon will not occur in my lifetime ...." 5 

NACA MOVES TOWARD SPACE 

In the early 1950s, however, as a full-fledged program to develop large ballistic 

missiles got underway and as the rocket research airplanes reached higher into the 

stratosphere, NACA began to consider the prospect of space flight and what 

contributions the organization could make in this new area of inquiry. On 

June 24, 1952, the Committee on Aerodynamics, the most influential of NACA's 

various technical committees, met at Wallops Island. Toward the end of the 

meeting, committee member Robert J. Woods, the highly respected designer of 

"X" aircraft for the Bell Aircraft Corporation, suggested that since various groups 

and agencies were considering proposals for sending manned and unmanned 

vehicles into the upper atmosphere, NACA should set up a study group on "space 

flight and associated problems." To Woods, NACA was the logical agency to 

conduct research in spacecraft stability and control; such work would be a proper 

extension of current NACA activity. After some discussion the other members 

of the committee approved Woods' suggestion. They formally resolved that 

NACA should intensify its research on flight at altitudes between 12 and 50 

miles and at speeds of mach 4 through 10, and "devote a modest effort to problems associated with unmanned and manned flight at altitudes from 50 miles 

to infinity and at speeds from Mach number 10 to the velocity of escape from 

the earth's gravity." On July 14 the NACA Executive Committee, the governing body of NACA, composed of practically all the members of the Main Committee, approved a slightly revised version of this resolution. G 

Less than a month after the action of the Executive Committee, Henry J. E. 

56 
upperatmospheric and space flight. Specifically the Langley engineers were to 

suggest a suitable manned vehicle on which construction could be initiated within 

two years. Their proposal was to be reviewed by a board composed of representatives from the three NACA laboratories and NACA's High Speed Flight 

Station at Edwards Air Force Base, California. 7 

Throughout the next year and a half, the Langley study group, engineers at 

Ames and the flight station, and the review board worked on a plan for the new 

research instrument. There was wide divergence of opinion as to what should 

be the nature and objectives of the vehicle; some parties were even skeptical about 

the wisdom of any space-directed research. Reid, John Stack, and others at 

Langley favored modifying the X-2 research airplane, then under development 

by Bell Aircraft, to make it a device for manned flight above 12 miles. S Smith J. 

DeFrance, one of the early Langley engineers who had become Director of the 

Ames Aeronautical Laboratory when it opened in 1941, originally opposed Woods' 

idea for a study group on space flight because "it appears to verge on the developmental, and there is a question as to its importance. There are many more 

pressing and more realistic problems to be met and solved in the next ten years." 

DeFrance had concluded in the spring of 1952 that "a study group of any size is 

not warranted." D 

In July 1954, however, representatives of NACA disclosed to the Air Force 

and the Navy their conclusions regarding the feasibility of an entirely new rocketpowered research airplane and suggested a tripartite program for the manned 

exploration of the upper atmosphere. NACA's views were based mainly on the 

findings and proposals of the Langley study group, which had been working on 

the problem since 1952 and had made a more detailed presentation than research 

teams from Ames and the High Speed Flight Station. NACA envisioned an aircraft that would fly as high as 50 miles and whose speed would reach perhaps 

mach 7 (approximately 5000 miles per hour) . Such a craft would be especially 

valuable for studying the critic,al problems of aerodynamic heating, stability, and 

control at high altitudes and speeds. Data gathered on its flights "would contribute both to air-breathing supersonic aircraft ... and to long-range highaltitude rocket-propelled vehicles operating at higher Mach numbers." Realizing 

that the temperatures generated on its return into the heavier atmosphere would 

be greater than on any previous airplane, NACA suggested as a structural metal 

Inconel-X, a new nickel-chrome alloy "capable of rapid heating to high temperatures (1200°F) without the development of high thermal stresses, or thermal 

buckling, and without appreciable loss of strength or stiffness." 10 

This long-range plan was shortly accepted by the Air Force and the Navy 

Bureau of Aeronautics and put into motion as the "X-15 project." In December 

1954, NACA, the Air Force, and the Navy agreed to proceed with the project 

57 
As prime contractor for the X--15, the Air Force picked North American 

Aviation of Los Angeles. The performance specifications of the X-IS called 

for a rocket engine consuming anhydrous ammonia and liquid oxygen and providing some 57,000 pounds of thrust for as long as six minutes. This powerplant 

would be four times as big as that of the X-2. A highly sensitive flight-data 

system, thick upper and lower vertical stabilizers for aerodynamic control, small 

reaction jets burning hydrogen peroxide for control in the near-vacuum of the 

upper atmosphere, and a new structural material-these were some of the novel 

characteristics of the stub-winged craft.I 

:? 

The X-IS would not fulfill its original design objectives until 1962, long after 

NACA had become NASA and in the same year that Project Mercury achieved 

its basic goals. Even so, the X-IS was by far the most ambitious, expensive, and 

publicized research undertaking in which NACA ever participated. Its eventual 

success stemmed largely from the imagination and ingenuity of the NACA engineers who had started planning for an advanced aerodynamic vehicle in 1952. 

In 1954, the year of Major Arthur Murray's climb to about 17 miles in the 

X-lA, the idea of manned rocket flight to an altitude of 50 miles seemed exceedingly visionary. Most people in NACA, the military, the aircraft industry, and 

elsewhere assumed that over the years vehicles with substantial lift/drag ratios 

would evolve to higher and higher speeds and altitudes until, by skipping in and 

out of the atmosphere like a flat rock across the surface of a pond, they could 

fly around the world. Even then, however, there were those within NACA who 

took the Executive Committee\; mandate for "research in space flight and associated problems" literally and who felt that the X-IS concept did not go far 

enough. They looked to the second part of the resolution adopted by the Committee on Aerodynamics J.nd approved by the Executive Committee, which sanctioned "a modest effort" on the "problems associated with flight at altitudes from 

50 miles to infinity and J.t speeds from Mach number 10 to the velocity of escape 

from the earth's gravity." 

Some of the most "far out" aeronautical engineers working for NACA in the 

early fifties were employed at the Ames laboratory. As early as the summer of 

1952, Ames engineers, experimenting at the supersonic free-flight, 10-inch-by-14­

inch, and 6-inch-by-6-inch wind tunnels at the California site, had examined 

the aerodynamic problems of five kinds of space vehicles-glide, skip, ballistic, 

satellite, and interplanetary. They knew that the aerodynamic forces acting on 

a vehicle above 50 miles were relatively minor, as were problems of stability and 

control at such altitudes. They concluded~ however, that a space vehicle should 

probably be controllable at lower altitudes~ although it "may not be optimum 

from the point of view of simplicity, etc ...." 13 

58 
stability and control in high-speed, high-altitude flight as one of two areas needing much additional research. The other and far mOore critical area was aerodynamic heating, which becomes acute as an object knifes into the atmosphere 

from the airless environment of space and collides with atmospheric molecules 

of ever-increasing density. For several years NACA researchers had been study

ing aerodynamic heating, which begins to be troublesome at about twice sonic 

speed. The X-15 program was established largely to return data on heating 

generated up to mach 7. But such investigations of thermal stress hardly 

approached the heating problem faced by the military services and the missile 

industry in their efforts to produce a durable warhead for an intercontinental 

missile. In a typical ICBM flight with a peak altitude of 900 miles and a range 

of 6500 miles, the stagnation temperature in the shock wave at the front of the 

nose cone could reach 12,000 degrees F. This is some 2000 degrees hotter than 

the surface of the Sun and 10 times the maximum surface temperature that was 

calculated for an X-15 trajectory. H Of the myriad puzzles involved in designing, building, and flying the Atlas, the first American ICBM, the most difficult 

and most expensive to solve was reentry heating. The popular term "thermal 

barrier" to describe the reentry problem was coined as an analogy to the "sonic 

barrier" of the mid-1940s, although research in the fifties would reveal that the 

problem could have been described more accurately as a "thermal thicket." 

During June 1952, in the same summer that NACA had decided to move 

toward space flight research and had proposed an advanced research aircraft, 

one of the scientist-engineers at Ames had made the first real breakthrough in 

the search for a way to surmount the thermal barrier. He was Harry Julian 

Allen, a senior aeronautical engineer at Ames and chief of the High-Speed Research Division since 1945. The burly Allen, who signs his technical papers 

"H. Julian" but who is known familiarly as "Harvey," was 42 years old in 1952 

and looked more like a football coach than a scientist. Holder of a bachelor of 

arts degree in engineering from Stanford University, Allen in 1935 had left the 

Stanford Guggenheim Aeronautical Laboratory, where he had received the 

degree of aeronautical engineer, to join the NACA staff at the Langley laboratory. 

When Ames was opened in 1941, he went west with Smith DeFrance and others 

from Langley.]·' 

At Ames, Allen had invented a technique of firing a gun-launched model 

upstream through a supersonic wind tunnel to study aerodynamic behavior at high 

mach numbers. This notion led to the construction of the Ames supersonic 

free-flight wind tunnel, opened in 1949. The tunnel had a test section 18 feet 

long, one foot wide, and two feet high. By forcing a draft through the tunnel at 

a speed of about mach 3 and by firing a model projectile upstream at a velocity 

59 
This shadowgraph of the Mercury 

reentry configuration was made in the 

Ames Supersonic Free-Flight Tunnel 

at a simulated speed of mach 10. 

of 8000 feet per second, the Ames researchers could simulate a mach number of 

about 15. Schlieren cameras set up at seven stations along the test section, three 

on the side and four ,on the top, made shadowgraphs to show airflow characteristics over the model and thus determine the aerodynamic forces experienced. 

During the 1950s the facility, constructed at an original cost of only about 

$20,000, was to prove one of NACA's most valuable tools for hypersonic 

investigation. 1G 

As a member of one of the panels of the Department of Defense Research 

and Development Board, a group charged with supervising weapons research, 

Allen was intimately familiar with the payload protection dilemma confronting 

the Air Force and Convair, the prime contractor for the difficult Atlas project.17 

In their designs the Convair engineers had already provided that at the peak of 

the Atlas' trajectory, its nose, containing a nuclear warhead, would separate 

from the sustainer rocket and fall freely toward its target. These exponents of 

the ICBM knew that without adequate thermal protection the nuclear payload 

would burn up during its descent through the atmosphere. 

Fifty years of progress in aeronautics had produced more and more slender 

and streamlined aircraft shapes, the objective being to reduce aerodynamic drag 

and increase speed. In approaching the Atlas reentry enigma, the Convair group 

drew from the huge reservoir of knowledge accumulated over the years by aerodynamicists and structures experts dealing with airplanes, rockets, and airbreathing missiles. The men at Convair fed their data into a digital computer, 

which was supposed to help them calculate the optimum design for structural 

strength, resistance to heat, and free-flight stability in the separable nose section of a 

long-range rocket. The computer indicated that a long, needle-nosed configuration for the reentry body, similar to that of the rocket research airplanes, would be 

best for the ICBM. But tests of this configuration, using metal models in the 

supersonic wind tunnel at Ames and in rocket launches at Wallops Island, showed 

that so much heat would be transferred to the vehicle that the warhead would 

60 
military rocket would not be feasible for many years. And while relatively few 

people were thinking seriously about manned space flight in the early fifties, those 

who were also understood that something radical would have to be done on the 

problem of reentry before it would be practicable to send a man into space and 

recover him. 

The man who did something radical was Allen. As Allen put it, the Convair engineers "cut off their computer too soon." He took the sharpnosed Atlas 

reentry shape ,and began making mathematical calculations, using only a pad and 

pencil. Eventually he reached a conclusion that seemingly contradicted all the 

years of aeronautical research and streamlined aircraft design. For Allen's analysis showed that the best way to cut down reentry heating was to discard a great 

deal of one's thinking about orthodox aerodynamics and deliberately design a 

vehicle that was the opposite of streamlined. "Half the heat generated by friction was going into the missiles," recalled Allen. "I reasoned we had to deflect the 

heat into the air and let it dissipate. Therefore streamlined shapes were the 

worst possible; they had to be blunt." The Ames researcher determined that the 

amount of heat absorbed by an object descending into the atmosphere depended 

on the ratio between pressure drag and viscous or frictional drag. The designer 

of a reentry body, by shaping the body bluntly, could alter pressure drag and thus 

throw off much of the heat into the surrounding air. When the bluff body collided with stratospheric pressures at reentry speeds, it would produce a "strong 

bow shock wave" in front of, and thus detached from, the nose. The shock wave, 

the air itself, would absorb much of the kinetic energy transformed into heat as the 

-object entered the atmosphere.19 

Allen personally submitted his findings to select persons in the missile industry 

in September 1952. A secret NACA report memorandum embodying his conclusions on the blunt-nose design, coauthored by Alfred J. Eggers of Ames, went 

out to industrial firms and the military the next spring. The report bore the date 

April 28, 1953, but six years passed before the paper was declassified and published 

in the annual report of NACA.:?o 

For his conception of the blunt-body configuration, Allen received the NACA 

Distinguished Service Medal in 1957. The award brought sharp criticism from 

H. H. Nininger, director of the American Meteorite Museum at Sedona, Arizona, 

who asserted that he had first proposed the blunt nose for reentry vehicles. In 

August 1952, Nininger, a recognized authority on meteorites, had suggested to the 

Ames laboratory that a blunt shape appeared promising for missile warheads. 

Nininger based his conclusion on his studies of tektites and meteorites, contending 

that the melting process experienced by a meteorite during its descent through the 

aerodynamic atmosphere furnished a lubricant enabling the object to overcome 

air resistance. Nininger's letter evidently came to Ames some weeks after Allen, 

61 
Initial missile concept Missile nose cones, 1953-57 

Blunt body concept, 1957 Manned capsule concept, 1957 

Ten years of intensive aerodynamic research preceded the final determination of t

reentry configuration for Project Mercury. Most of this was generated.by the milita

development of ballistic missiles. As these schlieren photographs of wind tunnel te

indicate, the departure point of atmospheric aerodynamic configuration was to chan

drastically under the new heat and stability conditions imposed by Mercury's d

manding sequence of atmospheric flight-spaceflight-reentry-atmospheric flight-landin

assisted by Eggers, had completed his calculations on the relationship betwe

warhead shapt, and heat convection. At any rate, what Allen wanted to do w

exactly the reverse of Nininger's suggestion: deliberately to shape a reentry bo

bluntly in order to increase air resistance and dissipate a greater amount of t

heat produced by the object into the atmosphere. 21 

Allen's high-drag, blunt-nose principle was of enormous interest and bene

to the missile designers. It led directly to the Mark I and Mark II nose con

developed by the General Electric Company for the Atlas and later for the Tho

62 
were not of immediate concern to designers of manned flight systems, not even to 

those drawing up plans for the X-I5, which would encounter a greater heating 

load than any previous airplane. Yet Allen's presentation of a new way to minimize the aerodynamic heating of reentry not only made possible an ICBM within 

a few years but "marked the potential beginning of manned space flight, with all 

of its attendant new structures and materials problems." :!3 

The blunt-nose concept was just that-a concept. Succeeding years would 

see much experimentation with spheres, cylinders, blunted ogives, and even concave 

shapes at the supersonic free-flight tunnel, ballistic ranges, and various other 

facilities at Ames, at the II-inch hypersonic tunnel at Langley, and at the Pilotless 

Aircraft Research Station on Wallops Island. 24 As aerodynamicists began thinking about space flight they would propose a variety of configurations for potential 

manned space vehicles, although all of the designs would feature some degree of 

bluntness. Finally, blunting a reentry body furnished only part of the solution 

to the heating problem. Allen's calculations presupposed that some kind of new 

thermal protection material would be used for the structure of a high-drag body. 

In 1952, aircraft designers and structures engineers were working mainly with 

aluminum, magnesium, and titanium, and were giving some attention to such 

heat-resistant alloys as Monel K, a nickel-and-steel metal used in the X-2, and 

Inconel-X, the basic alloy for the X-15. 2

., But it would take much "hotter" materials to protect the payloads of the intercontinental and intermediate-range ballistic 

missiles-the Atlas, the Thor, the Jupiter, and later the Titan. Far more materials research was needed before the recovery of a manned spacecraft would be 

practicable. 

Early in 1956, the Army Ballistic Missile Agency at Huntsville, Alabama, 

modified some of its medium-range Redstones in order to extend the studies of 

reentry thermodynamics that the Army had pursued at Redstone Arsenal since 

1953. As modified, the Redstone became a multistage vehicle, which Wernher 

von Braun and his colleagues called the "Jupiter C" (for Composite Reentry Test 

Vehicle) . Meanwhile the Air Force conducted its own investigations of reentry 

in conjunction with its nose-cone contractors, General Electric and the Avco Manufacturing Corporation, using a special multistage test rocket called the X-17, 

manufactured by the Lockheed Aircraft Corporation. 2G 

Two principal techniques for protecting the interior of the nose cone offered 

themselves- "heat sink" and "ablation." The heat sink approach involved using 

a highly conductive metal such as copper or beryllium to absorb the reentry heat, 

thus storing it and providing a mass sufficient to keep the metal from melting. The 

major drawback of a heat sink was its heaviness, especially one made of copper. 

In the ablation method the nose cone was covered with some ceramic material, 

such as fiber glass, which vaporized or "ablated" during the period of reentry heat63 
Apparently no consensus existed among students of the reentry problem 

late 1957. The "first generation" ICBM nose cones produced by General El

tric, the Mark I and Mark II, were blunt, heavy copper heat sinks, and the 

Force had decided to use the Mark II on its Thor intermediate-range missile. B

the Air Force's full-scale tests of the lighter, more sophisticated, but more diffic

and less tidy ablation process had not begun yet. Meanwhile, the Army and 

Vitro Corporation, using the exhaust of liquid rocket motors as a heat source a

the hybrid Redstone in reentry simulations, demonstrated to their own satisfact

the practicability of consuming part of the structural material during its use, 

principle of ablation. The Army's Jupiter-C shot of August 8, 1957, carryin

scale model Jupiter nose cone to an altitude of 600 miles and a range of 1200 mi

supposedly "proved the feasibility of the ablative-type nose cone" and "fulfilled 

mission of the reentry test program." 28 Yet the Ballistic Missile Agency engine

at Redstone Arsenal were working only on the intermediate-range Jupiter, not 

an ICBM. The question of whether an Atlas warhead or a manned reen

vehicle could best be protected by the heat-sink or ablation method, or by eith

remained undetermined. Much time and effort would be expended before 

Army's claims for ablation would be fully verified and accepted. 

NACA's official role in this accelerated program of materials research w

that of tester and verifier. Even so, the NACA experimenters greatly enlarg

their knowledge of thermodynamics, became well grounded in the new technolo

of thermal protection, and prepared themselves to cope with the heating loads 

be encountered in manned space flight. 

At the request of the Air Force, the Army, and also the Navy (which w

involved with the Polaris after 1956), NACA devoted an encreasing portion 

its facilities and technical staff to tests of such metals as copper, tungsten, moly

denum, and later beryllium for heat sinks, and of ablating materials like tefl

nylon, and fiber glass. During 1955-1956 the installation of several kinds of hig

temperature jets at the Langley and Lewis laboratories greatly aided NACA th

modynamics research. These included, at Langley, an acid-ammonia rocket 

providing a maximum temperature of 4100 degrees F and a gas stream veloc

of 7000 feet per second, an ethylene-air jet yielding temperatures up to 35

degrees F, and a pebble-bed heater, wherein a stream of hot air was passed throu

a bed of incandescent ceramic spheres. Both Langley and Lewis had electric a

jet facilities, in which a high-intensity arc was used to give energy to compressed 

and raise air pressure and temperatures. The hot, high-pressure air then sh

through a nozzle to produce a stream temperature of about 12,000 degrees 

NACA investigators used these high-temperature jets and other research too

including the II-inch hypersonic tunnel at Langley, to gather data eventually re

64 
ley Pilotless Aircraft Research Division, working under the supervision of Robert R. 

Gilruth, used multistage, solid-propellant rockets for studying heat transfer on 

variations of Allen's basic blunt heatshield configuration. Robert O. Piland, for 

example, put together the first multistage vehicle to attain mach 10. Faget 

served as a regular NACA member and Purser was an alternate member of a 

Department of Defense panel called the Polaris Task Group, set up to give advice 

on the development of the Navy's intermediate-range, solid-fueled Polaris, which 

was to be launched from submerged submarines. NACA worked with the Atomic 

Energy Commission and the Lockheed Aircraft Corporation, prime contractor for 

the Polaris, in developing the heat-sink nose cone used on the early versions of the 

sea-based missile. 30 

Although there were some 30 different wind tunnels at Langley, the members 

of the Pilotless Aircraft Research Division (PARD) firmly believed in the superiority of their rocket-launch methods for acquiring information on heating loads and 

heat transfer, heat-resistant materials, and the aerodynamic behavior of bodies 

entering the atmosphere. As Faget said, "The PARD story shows how engineering experimentalists may triumph over theoreticians with preconceptions. Our 

rockets measured heat transfer that the tunnels couldn't touch at that time." 

Joseph A. Shortal, chief of PARD since 1951, recalled, " PARD made us more than 

aeronautical engineers and aerodynamicists. We became truly an astronautically 

oriented research and development team out at Wallops. " Jl 

The Ames experimenters, on the other hand, were just as firmly convinced 

that their wind tunnels and ballistic ranges represented the simplest, most economical, and most reliable tools for hypersonic research. To the Ames group, rocket 

shots were troublesome and expensive, and rocket telemetry was unreliable. As 

one Ames engineer put it, "You might get a lot of data but since you didn't control 

the experiment you didn't know exactly what it meant." 3~ 

The Ames devotion to laboratory techniques, the determination to do more 

and more in heating and materials research without resorting to rockets, furnished 

the impetus for a new test instrument devised by Alfred J. Eggers, J L, in the midfifties. Eggers, born in 1922 in Omaha, had joined the research staff at Ames in 

the fall of 1944, after completing his bachelor of arts degree at the University of 

Omaha. He pursued graduate studies at Stanford University in nearby Palo Alto

where he received a Master of Science degree in aeronautical engineering in 1949 

and a Ph.D. in 1956. 33 For years Eggers had worked with Allen and others at 

Ames on the aerodynamic and thermodynamic problems of hypervelocity flight

and as a conceptualizer at the California center he came to be regarded as second 

only to the originator of the blunt-nose reentry principle. 

Eggers assumed that the major heating loads of reentry would be encountered 

within an altitude interval of 100,000 feet. So he designed a straight, trumpet65 
to the chamber, the model passed through ever-denser air, thus closely approximating the flight history of a long-range ballistic missile. Since the apparatus 

simulated both motion and heating experiences, Eggers called the combination of 

hypervelocity gun and supersonic nozzle "an atmosphere entry simulator." 3-1 

Eggers calculated that using a model only .36 inch in diameter and weighing 

.005 pound, he could simulate the aerodynamic heating generated by an object 

three feet in diameter, weighing 5000 pounds, and having a range of 4000 miles. 

"In the simplest test," he said, "the simulator could provide with one photograph 

of a model rather substantial evidence as to whether or not the corresponding 

missile would remain essentially intact while traversing the atmosphere." The 

reentry research technique, proposed in 1955, went into operation during the 

next year. Construction of a larger version began in 1958. Eggers' atmosphere 

entry simulator proved especially useful in materials research at Ames. Like the 

high-temperature jets at Langley and Lewis, the rocket tests at Wallops Island, 

the Army's Jupiter-C shots from Cape Canaveral, and other experimental methods, 

it yielded data that later pointed toward ablation as the best method for protecting 

the interior of reentry bodies. 3

;; 

Although the official focus of the NACA materials test program remained 

on missile warhead development, such activity was an obvious prerequisite to 

manned space flight. And the experience of men like Cilruth, Faget, Purser, 

and Shortal in the years before the Sputniks had a direct influence on their plans 

for shielding a human rider from the heat of atmospheric friction. Meanwhile 

other NACA engineers, especially at Langley and at the High Speed Flight Station, 

were working closely with the Navy, the Air Force, and North American Aviation 

on the X-IS project. At Cleveland, Lewis propulsion specialists were studying 

rocket powerplants and fuels as well as cooperating with Langley and Flight 

Station representatives in designing, operating, and studying reaction control 

systems for hypersonic aircraft and reentry vehicles. 

A MOON FOR A MAN 

Others in NACA, sensing the potential for manned space exploration that 

accompanied propulsion advances in military rocketry, began considering designs 

for a vehicle with which man could take his first step above the atmosphere. 

Early in 1954, Eggers, Julian Allen, and Stanford E. Neice of Ames put together 

a classic theoretical discussion of different space flight configurations in a paper 

entitled "A Comparative Analysis of the Performance of Long-Range Hypervelocity Vehicles." The research engineers examined the relative advantages, 

in terms of range and the ratio between payload and total weight, of three kinds 

66 
Alfred]. Eggers) Jr.) stands beside the Atmospheric Entry Simulator 

he invented in 1958 as a laboratory means of studying the problems of 

aerodynamic heating and thermal stresses during reentry. The tubular tank in the foreground held air under high pressure. When a 

valve was opened) the air flowed through the test section (the dark 

area under the high-voltage signs) into the chimneylike vacuum 

tank. As the airstream moved) a high-velocity gun fired a test model 

through the chamber in a right-to-left direction. Instruments 

photographed the model in flight) timed the flight) and studied the 

nature of the incandescence generated by the aerodynamic heating. 
into free flight, or orbit. 

Eggers, Allen, and Neice found that the skip vehicle, which would return to 

Earth by performing an intricate series of progressively steeper dips into the 

atmosphere, would need an extremely powerful boost to circumnavigate the globe

and also would encounter a prohibitively large amount of aerodynamic heating. 3G 

By contrast, the glider, although heavy, would require less boost and would keep 

the g forces imposed on the pilot during reentry at a quite acceptable level

Like the skip craft, the glider would provide the advantage of pilot control during 

the landing phase. It would radiate heat well, but since its thermodynamic loads 

still would be high, the glider might experience dangerous interior heating during 

a "global" (satellite) mission. So the authors suggested a high-lift glider; like 

the high-lift-over-drag glider, it would have a delta-wing configuration but also 

would feature thick, rounded sides and bottom to minimize interior heating. It 

would enter the atmosphere at a high angle of attack, then level off at lowe

altitudes to increase the lift/drag ratio. 

The ballistic vehicle, the simplest approach of the three, could not be controlled aerodynamically, but its blunt shape provided superior thermal protection

and its relatively light weight gave it a longer range. If it entered the atmosphere 

at a low angle, deceleration forces could be kept at or below 109, with 5 g lasting 

for 1 minute and 2 g for not over 3 minutes. Therefore the three NACA 

researchers concluded that "the ballistic vehicle appears to be a practical mancarrying machine, provided extreme care is exercised in supporting the man 

during atmospheric entry." 37 

As time passed, Eggers personally became convinced of the overall desirability 

of the manned satellite glider a'S opposed to the ballistic satellite. He revealed 

his preference in a modified version of the earlier paper done with Allen and 

Neice, which he read before the annual meeting of the American Rocket Society 

in San Francisco, in June 1957. Eggers was skeptical about the relatively high 

heating loads and the deceleration forces characteristic of ballistic reentry, even 

at a small entry angle. He warned that "the g's are sufficiently high to require 

that extreme care be given to the support of an occupant of a ballistic vehicle 

during atmospheric reentry," and pointed out that such an object, entering the 

atmosphere along a shallow trajectory so as to hold deceleration down to 7.5 g

would generate a surface temperature of at least 2500 degrees F. Thus, in Eggers

judgment, "the glide vehicle is generally better suited than the ballistic vehicle 

for manned flight at hypersonic velocities." 38 

Eggers realized that his glider design, if actually built, would be too heavy 

for the military rockets then under development. At the same time he remained 

concerned about the deceleration loads imposed on the space pilot and the heating 

68 
a consequence of these apprehensions, during the last half of 1957 he sketched a 

semiballistic device for manned orbital flight, blunt but having a certain amount 

of aerodynamic lift, with a nearly flat top and a round, deep bottom for heat 

protection. This design, which Eggers called the "M-l," fell about halfway 

between the high-lift glider and the ballistic vehicle discussed in his 1954 NACA 

study with Allen and Neice. About 10 feet wide and nearly seven feet long, 

the M --1 from above looked like an isosceles triangle rounded at its apex. 39 A 

more graphic description was offered by Paul Purser, who called it a "1'4 egg 

lifting shape." 40 The M-1 's limited amount of lift would give it about 200 miles 

of lateral maneuverability during its descent through the atmosphere and about 

800 miles of longitudinal discretion over its landing point. Eggers' calculations 

indicated that skillful piloting could keep reentry deceleration at about 2 g.41 

AIR FORCE PROVIDES A NEED 

The work of Eggers and others on designs for man-carrying space vehicles 

had been stimulated not only by general progress in long-range rocketry but also 

by the growing interest of the Air Force in manned space flight. Eggers knew 

that ever since the war the Air Force, through the Rand Corporation, had been 

considering the military potential of space technology, and that since early 1956 

the service had been proceeding cautiously with contract feasibility studies of 

manned satellites. 

The impetus for these feasibility studies came from a staff meeting at the 

headquarters of the Air Research and Development Command (ARDC) at 

Baltimore, on February 15, 1956. During the course of the meeting, General 

Thomas S. Power, Commander of ARDC, expressed 'impatience with the failure 

of his "idea men" to propose any advanced flight systems that could be undertaken after the X-15. Work should begin now, he declared, on two or three 

separate approaches beyond the X-15, including a vehicle that would operate 

outside the atmosphere without wings. He suggested that a manned ballistic 

rocket might be "eventually capable of useful intercontinental military and commercial transport and cargo operation." But the main benefit of having an 

advanced research project underw"_y, Power pointed out, was that the Air Force 

could more easily acquire funds for the "general technical work needed." 4:! 

Thus prodded into action, Power's staff quickly proposed two separate research projects. The first called for a "Manned Glide Rocket Research System"­

a rocket-launched glider that would operate initially at an altitude of about 400,000 

feet and a speed of mach 21. The other, termed "Manned Ballistic Rocket 

Research System," would be a separable manned nose cone, or capsule, the final 

stage of an ICBM. Such a vehicle could lead to the "quick reaction delivery of 

69 
current ICBM research and development; because existing ICBMs would furnish 

the booster system, so that efforts could be concentrated on the capsule; and 

because the ballistic vehicle possibly could be developed by 1960. Either program, however, should be pushed rapidly so that the Air Force could protect 

its own interests in the field of space flight.~ :l 

In March 1956, ARDC established two research projects, one for the glide 

rocket system, the other, known as Task 27544, for the manned ballistic capsule. 

ARDC planners shortly held briefings on the two proposed systems for its missileoriented Western Development Division, in California, and for its pilot-oriented 

Wright Air Development Center, in Ohio. Other briefings were held for NACA 

representatives and for aircraft and missile contractors. Then, in October, Major 

George D. Colchagoff of Power's staff described the basic aspects of the two 

advanced systems to a classified ses-'lion of the American Rocket Society's annual 

meeting in Los Angeles. H 

Since the Weapons Systems Plans Office of ARDC Headquarters never received the $200,000 it had requested for its own feasibility studies, the command 

had to content itself with encouraging privately financed contractor research. H 

In particular Avco, then trying to develop serviceable nose cones for the Thor and 

Atlas missiles, was urged to study the manned ballistic capsule. In November 

1956, Avco submitted to the Research and Development Command a preliminary 

study embodying its conclusions on the ballistic approach to manned space flight. 

ARDC still was short of funds, so Avco and other corporations continued to use 

their own money for further investigations. 4G 

While ARDC promoted these systems studies and sponsored extensive research 

in human factors at the School of Aviation Medicine in Texas, at the Aeromedical 

Field Laboratory in New Mexico, and at the Aeromedical Laboratory in Ohio

it also sought to gain a~ceptance for its ideas within the Air Force organizational 

structure. On July 29, 1957, the Ad Hoc Committee of the Air Force Scientific 

Advisory Board, meeting at the Rand Corporation's offices in Santa Monica, 

California, heard presentations from the Ballistic Missile Division on ballistic 

missiles for Earth-orbital and lunar flights, and from ARDC Headquarters on the 

two advanced flight systems then under study. Brigadier General Don D. 

Flickinger, ARDC's Director of Human Factors, stated that from a medical 

standpoint sufficient knowledge and expertise already existed to support a manned 

space venture. 47 

Although the industrial firms investigated mainly the manned ballistic capsule, 

NACA, following the traditional approach of building up to higher and higher 

flight regimes, centered its efforts on the glide-rocket concept for most of 1957

Since late the previous year, when NACA had agreed in principle to an ARDC 

70 
1957 the Ames group reported its conclusions on a new rocketpowered vehicle 

for "efficient hypersonic flight," featuring a flat-top, round-bottom configuration. 

Interestingly enough, the Ames document contained as an appendix a minority 

report written by Langley aerodynamicists-mostly from the Flight Research, 

Instrument Research, and Pilotless Aircraft Research Divisions-recommending 

that a nonlifting spherical capsule be considered for global flight before a glide 

rocket.·j!) "The appendix was widely read and discussed at Langley at the time," 

recalled Hartley A. Soule, a Langley senior engineer, "but there was little interest 

expressed in work on the proposal." He continued: 

... aside from the environment that limited the NACA mission to terrestrial 

transportation, the proposal was criticized on technical grounds. The report 

suggested that landings be made in the western half of the United States, not 

a very small area. The spherical shape was suggested so that the attitude 

would not be important during reentry. The shape was specifically criticized 

because the weight of material to completely shield the surface from the reentry 

heat would probably preclude the launching with programmed ICBM boosters. 

Further, the lack of [body] orientation might result in hann to the occupant 

during the deceleration period.::;o 

NACA study groups continued their investigations of manned glide rocket 

concepts through the spring and summer. In September 1957 a formal "Study 

of the Feasibility of a Hypersonic Research Airplane" appeared, bearing the 

imprimatur of the whole NACA but influenced primarily by Langley proponents 

of a raised-top, flat-bottom glider configuration."} 

A few days later, on October 4, Sputnik I shot into orbit and forcibly opened 

the Space Age. The spectacular Russian achievement wrought a remarkable 

alteration in practically everyone's thinking about space exploration, especially 

about the need for a serious, concerted effort to achieve manned space flight. 

New urgency attended the opening of a long-planned NACA conference beginning October 15 at Ames, which was to bring together representatives from 

the various NACA laboratories in an effort to resolve the conflict in aerodynamic 

thinking between advocates of round and flat bottoms for the proposed hypervelocity glider. Termed the "Round Three Conference," the Ames meeting produced the fundamental concept for what would become the X-20 or Dyna-Soar 

(for dynamic soaring) project-a delta-wing, flat-bottom, rocket-propelled glider 

capable of reaching a velocity of mach 17.5, almost 13,000 miles per hour, and 

a peak altitude of perhaps 75 miles.::;::! 

Although they had been working mainly on the hypersonic glider, as requested 

by the Air Force, the research engineers of PARD, in tidewater Virginia, also 

had been speHding more and more time thinking about how to transmute missile 

reentry bodies into machines for carrying man in low Earth orbit. Their advocacy, along with that of other Langley workers, of a spherical capsule early 

71 
Eggers related his own conclusions: for orbital flight the design giving the highest 

proportion of payload to total weight was the compact, low lift/drag vehicle, 

having little or no wings, and embodying Allen's blunt-nose principle. He discussed the analytical studies of his semiballistic M-1, which had some lift but 

would, he estimated, weigh from 4000 to 7500 pounds. Eggers cautioned his 

NACA colleagues that a nonlifting, or pure ballistic, vehicle might subject the 

passenger to excessive deceleration forces. 53 

Faget and Purser returned to Langley convinced that a maximum concentration of effort to achieve manned orbital flight as quickly as possible was imperative. 5 

o! Obviously this meant that in the months ahead their research should 

focus on the ballistic-capsule approach to orbiting a man. Both the hypersonic 

glider, which called for progressing to ever higher speeds and altitudes, and 

Eggers' M-1, also too heavy for any existing booster system, would take too long 

to develop. The manned ballistic vehicle combined a maximum of simplicity 

and heat protection with a minimum weight and offered the best chance of getting 

a man into space in a hurry. Henceforth the aerodynamicists in PARD, and 

space enthusiasts in other units of the Langley laboratory, turned from NACA's 

historic preoccupation with winged, aerodynamically controllable vehicles and 

devoted themselves to the study of "a man in a can on an ICBM," as some in the 

Air Force called it.55 

After Sputnik I, the aircraft and missile corporations also stepped up their 

research on the ballistic capsule; throughout November and December their design 

studies and proposals flowed into ARDC Headquarters. The most active of 

the firms considering how to put a man on a missile still was Avco. On November 20, 1957, it submitted to ARDC its second and more detailed study of systems 

for manned space flight, entitled "Minimum Manned Satellite." The Avco 

document concluded that "a pure drag reentry vehicle is greatly superior in 

satisfying the overall system requirements," and that the best available rocket 

for boosting a manned satellite into an orbit about 127 miles from Earth was the 

Atlas. Still unproven, the Atlas was to make its first successful short-range flight 

(500 miles) on December 17, 1957. An Atlas-launched satellite, according 

to the A vco idea, would be a manned spherical capsule that would reenter the 

atmosphere on a stainless-steel-cloth parachute. Shaped like a shuttlecock, the 

parachute was supposed to brake the capsule through reentry. Then air pressure 

would expand the parachute to a diameter of 36 feet, and the capsule would land 

at a rate of 35 feet per second. 

Avco requested $500,000 to cover the expense of a three-month study and the 

construction of a "mockup," or full-scale model, of the capsule containing some 

of its internal systems. But because the Ballistic Missile Division was skeptical 

72 
development of a reliable booster, focused on the Atlas and began holding dis

cussions with representatives of Convair, builder of the Atlas. 5G 

JOCKEYING FOR POSITION 

On October 9, only five days after Sputnik I, the Ad Hoc Committee of the 

Air Force Scientific Advisory Board urged the development of "second generation" 

ICBMs that could be used as space boosters, proposed the eventual accomplishment of manned lunar missions by the Air Force, and recommended the launching 

of Air Force satellites for reconnaissance, communications, and weather prediction 

purposes as soon as possible. A few days later, Secretary of the Air Force James H. 

Douglas appointed a committee of 56 academic and corporate scientists and Air 

Force officers, headed by the eminent but controversial nuclear physicist Edward 

N. Teller, to "propose a line of positive action" for the Air Force in space 

exploration. Not surprisingly, the Teller Committee in its report of October 28 

recommended a unified space program under Air Force leadership.57 

Then, on December 10, 1957, Lieutenant General Donald L. Putt, Air 

Force Deputy Chief of Staff, Development, set up a "Directorate of Astronautics" 

for the Air Force. Brigadier General Homer A. Boushey, who sixteen years 

earlier had piloted the first rocket-assisted aircraft takeoff in this country, became 

head of the new office. The move quickly met opposition from Secretary of 

Defense Neil H. McElroy, who was chary about any of the services using the term 

"astronautics," and from William M. Holaday, newly appointed Defense Department Director of Guided Missiles, whom the New York Times quoted as charging that the Air Force wanted to "see if it can grab the limelight and establish a 

position." The furor within the Defense Department caused Putt to cancel the 

astronautics directorate on December 13, only three days after its establishment. 58 

Sputnik II, the dismayingly large, dog-carrying Soviet satellite, had gone 

into orbit on November 3. As the mood of national confusion intensified in 

the last weeks of 1957, Headquarters USAF ordered the Air Research and 

Development Command to prepare a comprehensive "astronautics program," 

including estimates of funding and projected advances in space technology over 

the next five years.. ARDC, which had been working on its own 15-year plan 

for Air Force research and development in astronautics, now boiled its findings 

down to a five-year prospectus. ARDC's report went to Headquarters USAF 

on December 30, and at the end of the year of the Sputniks the five-year plan 

was under consideration in the Pentagon. 5 !J 

In any Air Force push into astronautics, NACA presumably would playa 

key role as supplier of needed research data. The agency had done this for nearly 

four decades in aeronautics. Proceeding on this premise, Putt wrote NACA 

73 
NACA coopt'ration on the first approach, although the research agency and the 

Air Force would not sign their formal agreement on the subject until the following May.Gl Regarding the satellite project offer, however, Dryden informed 

Putt that NACA was working on its own designs for a manned space capsule and 

would "coordinate" with the Air Force late in March, when NACA completed 

its studies. G2 

Behind NACA's apparent reluctance to follow the Air Force lead into manned 

satellite development was a conviction, held by some people at NACA Headquarters, but mainly by administrators and engineers of the Langley and Lewis 

laboratories, that the agency should broaden its activities as well as its outlook 

Moving into astronautics, NACA should leave behind its historic preoccupation 

with research and expand into systems development and flight operationsinto the uncertain world of large contracts, full-scale flight operations, and public 

relations. NACA should, in short, assume the leadership of a new, broadbased national space program, having as one of its principal objectives to demonstrate the practicability of manned space flight. 

So in the 10 months between the first Sputnik and the establishment of a 

manned space program under a new agency, NACA would follow a rather 

ambivalent course. On one hand it would continue its traditional research and 

consultative capacity, counseling the Air Force on space flight proposals and 

imparting it<; findings to industrial firms. But at the same time ambitious teams 

of engineers here and there in the NACA establishment would be preparing 

their organization and themselves to take a dominant role in the Nation's efforts 

III space. 

74 
 
From NACA to NASA 

(NOVEMBER 195 7-SEPTEMBER 1958) 

SPUTNIK II, carrying its canine passenger into orbit on November 3, 1957, 

made clear what the first Sputnik had only implied: the U.S.S.R. would 

eventually try to. put a man in Drbit. Americans read Df this latest SDviet achievement and wondered how soon the West might be able to restore the technDlogical 

and ideolDgical balance. Throughout the United States, individuals and organizations were doing an uncommon amount of introspection. It was time for 

some rethinking and reexaminatiDn, for an inquiry into the nature, meaning, and 

direction of American gDvernment and society in the Space Age. 

One Df the most intrDspective Government agencies in the post-Sputnik period 

was the National AdvisDry Committee for AerDnautics. To. most people in 

NACA it was obvious that the organization had reached a crisis in its proud but 

rather obscure history; unless NACA moved rapidly and adroitly it might very 

well be overwhelmed in the national clamor for radical departures. New guidelines for its future clearly were in Drder. On NDvember 18, 19, and 20, 1957, 

aboard the carrier Forrestal off the eastern CDast Df Florida, NACA's key Committee on Aerodynamics held another of its periDdic meetings. Carried on in a 

mood Df patriotic concern and challenge created by the Sputniks, these discussions 

reinfDrced the grDwing conviction that NACA should do more in astronautics. 

Among the 22 representatives of industry, the military, and academic aeronautics 

making up the committee, a consensus emerged that "NACA should act now to 

aVDid being ruled out of the field of space flight research," and that "increased 

emphasis shDuld be placed on research on the prDblems Df true space flight over 

extended periods of time." The committee then adopted a resolution calling for 

"an aggressive program ... fDr increased NACA participation in upper atmosphere and space flight research." 1 

Two days after the Committee on Aerodynamics adjourned, the Main Committee Df NACA met and voted to. establish a Special Committee on Space 

Technology. H. Guyford Stever, a physicist and dean of the Massachusetts 

Institute Df Technology, took charge of the heterDgeneous group. The special 

committee was the first established by NACA to. CDncern itself expressly and 

exclusively with space matters. It was "to. survey the whole problem of space 

technDIDgy from the point Df view of needed research and develDpment and advise 

75 
As apprehensive Americans watched the failure of the Vanguard test vehicl

in December and the successful Jupiter-C launch of Explorer I in January, NACA 

continued to assess its potential role in the Space Age. Shortly after the Sputniks

NACA Director Hugh L. Dryden; Chairman James H. Doolittle; John F. Victory

the venerable executive secretary of NACA; and others at Headquarters in 

Washington had decided on the course NACA should follow in succeeding months

Assuming that now a unified space program would come into being, the NACA 

leaders wanted to ensure their organization a place in such a national enterprise

To Dryden, who largely guided the formulation of its strategy, NACA should 

proceed cautiously toward its minimum and yet most important objectiveextension of its traditional preeminence as an aeronautical research organization 

into the higher realm of astronautics. This would involve a continuation o

NACA's traditional function as planner, innovator, tester, and data-gatherer fo

the Defense Department and the missile and aircraft industry. While a large

role, entailing responsibilities for development, management; and flight operation

in addition to research, very possibly could come to NACA in a national astro

nautics effort, publicly NACA should play down whatever ambitions for such a 

role individuals and groups within the agency might have. 4 

In keeping with this "soft-sell" philosophy and plan of attack, the Main Com

mittee, at its regular meeting of January 16, 1958, resolved that any nationa

undertaking in astronautics should combine the talents and facilities of the Defense 

Department, NACA, the National Academy of Sciences, and the National Science 

Foundation. In other words, national space activities should follow roughly the 

pattern of Project Vanguard. NACA, while taking part in the launching o

space vehicles and acquiring more authority to let research contracts, should 

continue to function primarily as a research institution." Dryden essentially 

reiterated this viewpoint in a speech which Victory read for him nine days late

before the Institute of the Aeronautical Sciences in New York. The NACA 

Director proposed that the current division of labor among the military, industry

and NACA be perpetuated in a national space program, with NACA doing 

research and providing technical assistance and the military contracting with 

industry for hardware development. G 

Then, the next month, the Main Committee considered and circulated a pro

spectus inspired by Abe Silverstein, Associate Director of the Lewis Aeronautica

Laboratory, and written mainly by his senior engineers. Entitled "A Program for 

Expansion of NACA Research in Space Flight Technology," it called for a "major 

expansion" of NACA activity to "provide basic research in support of the develop

ment of manned satellites and the travel of man to the moon and nearby planets." 

The Lewis group proposed an enlargement of NACA's existing laboratories and 

76 
ment, management, and operational tasks in manned space flight programs.

 

So by early February 1958, as the Eisenhower administration began wrestling 

with the complexities of formulating a national program for space exploration, 

NACA had taken the official position that with regard to space it neither wanted 

nor expected more than its historic niche in Government-financed science and 

engineering. While NACA should become a substantially bigger instrument for 

research, it should remain essentially a producer of data for use by others. 

MISSILES TO MANNED BALLISTIC SATELLITES 

The circumspect approach of NACA Headquarters to a national space program was only one of several being suggested formally in the winter of 1957-1958. 

Various other proposals came from the scientific community. In mid-October 

the American Rocket Society had called for a civilian space research and development agency. In November the National Academy of Sciences endorsed an 

idea for a National Space Establishment under civilian leadership. By April 1958 

a total of 29 bills and resolutions relating to the organization of the Nation's space 

efforts would be introduced by members of the Congress. Almost everyone 

assumed that some sort of thorough-going reform legislation, probably creating 

an entirely new agency, was needed if the United States was to overcome the Soviet 

lead in space technology. On January 23, 1958, the Senate Preparedness Investigating Committee under Senator Lyndon B. Johnson had summarized its findings 

in 17 specific recommendations, including the establishment of an independent 

space agency.s During these months of debate and indecision, the military services continued their planning of space programs, both in hope of achieving a special role for themselves in space and in knowledge that U.S. planning could not 

simply stop during the months it took to settle the organizational problem. 

Of the three military services the Air Force moved most rapidly with plans for 

advanced projects and programs. Responding to a request sent by the Office of 

the Secretary of Defense to the three military services, Headquarters USAF by 

mid-January 1958 had completed its review of the comprehensive five-year 

astronautics program submitted the previous month by the Air Research and 

Development Command. On January 24 the Air Force submitted the plan to 

William M. Holaday, Director of Guided Missiles in the Department of Defense. 

The five-year outline envisaged the development of reconnaissance, communications, and weather satellites; recoverable data capsules; a "manned capsule test 

system"; then manned space stations; and an eventual manned base on the Moon. 

The Air Force estimated that funding requirements for beginning such a longrange program in fiscal year 1959 would total more than $1.7 billion.:J 

The ambitious five-year plan, with its astronomical estimate of costs for the 

77 
firms outlined for Air Force and NACA observers the various classified proposal

for a manned satellite vehicle that they had submitted to ARDC during Novembe

and December 1957. The industry presentations appear to have varied consid

erably in thoroughness and complexity. The Northrop Corporation, for example

simply reviewed the boost-glide concept suggested by NACA at the Round Three 

Conference the previous October and already adopted by the Air Force for it

Dyna-Soar project. By contrast, the Avco Manufacturing Corporation, the 

McDonnell Aircraft Corporation, Republic Aviation, and North American Avia

tion made detailed presentations, including estimates of the minimum amount o

time required to put a man in orbit. Like Avco and other firms, McDonnel

of St. Louis had been working on designs for a "minimum" satellite vehicle

employing a pure ballistic shape, since the spring of 1956, when the Air Force 

had first briefed industry representatives on its original Manned Ballistic Rocke

Research proposal. Republic sketched a triangular planform arrangemen

modeled on the vehicle suggested the previous year by Antonio Ferri and other

at the Gruen Applied Science Laboratories. IO The "Ferri sled," as the Republic 

device was called, was one of two approaches wherein the pilot would parachute 

after being ejected from the spacecraft, the vehicle itself not being recovered

The other company advocating an expendable spacecraft was North American

an X-15, although designed to land conventionally on skids as a rocket research 

aircraft, would orbit and then impact minus its parachuting pilot.ll 

After the Wright-Patterson conference, the Air Force stepped up the pace o

its manned-satellite studies. On January 31, ARDC directed the Wright Air 

Development Center to focus on the quickest means of getting a man in orbit

The center was to receive advice from the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division in 

Los Angeles on selection of a booster system. A few weeks later the center issued 

a purchase request, valued at nearly $445,000, for a study of an internal ecologica

system that could sustain a man for 24 hours in an orbiting capsule.l 

:! 

On February 27, ARDC officers briefed General Curtis E. LeMay, Air Force 

Vice Chief of Staff, on three alternative approaches to manned orbital flight: 

developing an advanced version of the X-15 that could reach orbital velocity

speeding up the Dyna-Soar project, which eventually was supposed to put a 

hypersonic glider in orbit; or boosting a relatively simple, nonlifting ballistic capsule 

into orbit with an existing missile system, as proposed by Avco, McDonnell, and 

other companies. LeMay instructed ARDC to make a choice and submit a 

detailed plan for an Air Force man-in-space program as soon as possible. 1 3 

While the Air Force pushed its manned satellite investigations and its development work on the Thor, Atlas, and Titan, the Army and the Navy initiated 

78 
astronautical prestige. Proud of the prowess of von Braun

s rocket team at its 

Army Ballistic Missile Agency, Huntsville, Alabama, the Army sought a major 

role in military space technology. Since the Army already had lost operational 

responsibility for its Jupiter intermediate-range ballistic missile to the Air Force, 

a space mission was vitally important to its future in astronautics. Central to the 

Army's space plans was securing authorization, priority, and abundant financing 

from the Defense Department for one of von Braun's pet ideas, a clustered-engine 

booster vehicle with more than a million pounds of thrust. 11 

On February 7, 1958, Secretary of Defense Neil H. McElroy, acting on 

President Eisenhower's instructions, ordered the creation of an Advanced Research 

Project Agency (ARPA) to manage all existing space projects. Roy w. Johnson, 

a vice-president of General Electric, took over the directorship of this new office; 

Director of Guided Missiles Holaday transferred some of his responsibilities to 

the agency. 1.; 

Three weeks after the establishment of ARPA, Johnson acknowledged publicly 

that "the Air Force has a long term development responsibility for manned space 

flight capability with the primary objective of accomplishing satellite flight as 

soon as technology permits." The statement was reiterated on March 5 by a 

spokesman for McElroy. The Defense Department also authorized the Air Force 

to develop its "117L" system an Atlas or Thor topped by a liquid-propellant 

upper stage (later named Agena) as a booster combination, together with an 

instrumented nose cone~"under the highest national priority in order to attain 

an initial operational capability at the earliest possible date." The 117L system, 

designed originally to orbit reconnaissance satellites, would now also be used for 

orbiting recoverable biological payloads, including primates. 1 

" 

In response to Vice Chief of Staff LeMay's instructions of February 27 and the 

apparent receptiveness of Defense Department officials to the Air Force's astronautical plans, the Air Research and Development Command moved to "firm up" 

its plans for manned space flight. On March 8, the Ballistic 1\1issile Division proposed an II-step program aimed at the ultimate objective of "Manned Space 

Flight to the Moon and Return." The steps included instrumented and animalcarrying orbital missions, a manned orbit of Earth, circumnavigation of the Moon 

with instruments and then animals, instrumented hard and soft landings on the 

~100n, an animal landing on the ~100n, manned lunar circumnavigation, and a 

manned landing on the lunar surface. Then, on 11arch 10, 11, and 12, ARDC 

staged a large conference at the offices of its Ballistic Missile Division in Los Angeles. On hand were more than 80 rocket, aircraft, and human-factors specialists 

from the Air Force, industry, and NACA. Although the space sights of the Ballistic Missile Division, under Major General Bernard A. Schriever, were set on the 

79 
dirty" approach-orbital flight and recovery using a simple ballistic capsule and 

parachutes for a water landing in the vicinity of the Bahamas. The ballistic 

vehicle would weigh between 2700 and 3000 pounds, and would be about six fee

in diameter and eight feet long. Its "life support," or internal ecological, system 

would be designed to sustain a man in orbit for as long as 48 hours. Because there 

was no real certainty that man could function under the various stresses of space 

flight, all systems in the capsule would be fully automatic. 1s 

The human passenger would be essentially a rider rather than a pilot, although 

for experimental purposes he would try to perform certain tasks. The body sup

port arrangement-showing the influence of Harold J. von Beckh of ARDC'

Aeromedical Field Laboratory-would have the spaceman supine on a couch tha

could be rotated according to the direction of the g forces building up during launch 

and reentry. The rotatable couch was regarded as necessary because the capsule 

would both exit and enter the atmosphere front-end forward. Maximum reentry 

loads on the occupant of the Air Force machine were expected to be about 9 g; the 

interior temperature during reentry was not supposed to exceed 150 degrees. An 

ablative nose cone would provide thermal protection. Small retrograde rocket

would brake the vehicle enough to allow the pull of gravity to effect a reentry.19 

Among the most fervent Air Force champions of a man-in-space project at the 

Los Angeles conference were the human-factors experts, some of whom had been 

studying the medical problems of upper- and extra-atmospheric flight for more 

than a decade. But predictably they were also the most cautious people in assess

ing the psychophysiological limits of human tolerance under the conditions of fligh

into space. Air Force medical personnel generally agreed that 15 or more 

launches of primates and smaller biological payloads should precede the firs

manned orbital shot. Colonel John P. Stapp of the Aeromedical Field Laboratory 

felt that the first human space passengers should have both engineering and medica

training, that they should go through at least six months of selection, testing, and 

preparation, and that from a medical standpoint a television camera was an essen

tial piece of equipment in the manned capsule. Major DflVid G. Simons, Stapp'

I 

colleague, believed that continuous medical monitoring · of the man, including 

voice contact throughout the orbital mission, should be mandatory.2o 

The Air Force flight physicians knew that German centrifuge experiments dur

ing the Second W orId War had proved that men could withstand as much as 17 g 

for as long as 2 minutes without losing consciousness. 21 Nevertheless, numerou

centrifuge runs at Wright-Patterson and at Johnsville, Pennsylvania, and calcula

tions of the angle of entry from an orbital altitude of about 170 miles had con

vinced them that a 12-g maximum was a good ground rule for designing the 

capsule body-support system. With a continuously accelerating single-stage 

80 
y p

In retrospect, there were two striking aspects of the Los Angeles man-in-space 

presentation. The first was that the Air Force, historically devoted to piloted, 

fully controllable aircraft, was thinking in terms of a completely automatic orbital 

capsule, virtually without aerodynamic controls, whose passenger would do little 

more than observe and carry out physiological exercises. The other was that no 

attention was given to using the Atla3 alone as a booster system for a manned satellite. Indeed hardly anyone advocated putting an upper stage on the Atlas to 

constitute the desired two-stage launch vehicle. Spokesmen for Space Technology 

Laboratories, technical overseer of the Air Force ballistic missile program, went so 

far as to declare that a more dependable booster than the Atlas would have to be 

developed. They favored adapting the intermediate-range Thor and combining 

it with a second stage powered by a new fluorine-hydrazine engine developing some 

15,000 pounds of thrust. By the time the conference adjourned on March 12, the 

conferees were in fairly general agreement that about 30 Thors and 20 fluorinehydrazine second-stage rockets would be needed for a manned satellite project. 

Some 8 to 12 Vanguard second stages would also be needed, to be mated with 

Thors for orbiting smaller, animal-bearing capsules. 23 

While the "abbreviated development plan" was emerging from the Los 

Angeles gathering, a NACA steering committee met at the Ames laboratory. Its 

members were Hartley A. Soule and John V. Becker of Langley, Alfred J. Eggers 

of Ames, and Walter C. Williams of the High Speed Flight Station. They had 

been appointed by NACA Assistant Director Ira H. Abbott to suggest a course of 

action on the January 31 proposal by Lieutenant General Donald L. Putt, Air 

Force Deputy Chief of Staff, Development, to NACA Director Dryden for fOITIlal 

NACA-Air Force cooperation in a manned satellite venture. 24 The steering 

committee agreed that the zero-lift approach-the ballistic capsule-offered the 

best promise for an early orbital mission. Souie, Becker, Eggers, and Williams 

recommended that "NACA accept the Air Force invitation to participate in a 

joint development of a manned orbital vehicle on an expedited basis," and that 

"the ballistic type of vehicle should be developed." 25 

On March 14, a month and a half after Putt's letter to Dryden, NACA 

officially informed Headquarters USAF that it would cooperate in drawing up a 

detailed manned satellite development plan. On April 11, Dryden sent to General Thomas D. White, Chief of Staff of the Air Force, a proposed memorandum 

of understanding declaring an intention to set up a "joint project for a recoverable 

manned satellite test vehicle." Before a final agreement was actually signed, 

however, NACA Assistant Director for Research Management Clotaire Wood, 

at Dryden's direction, suggested to Colonel Donald H. Heaton of Headquarters 

USAF that the NACA-Air Force arrangement "should be put aside for the time 

81 
The explanation for Wood's action and for the general prudence of NACA 

in dealing with the Air Force on space matters in the spring of 1958 lay in the 

contents of the space bill sent by the Eisenhower administration to Capitol Hill 

o,n April 14 and then being debated in Congress. This proposal appeared likely 

to transform NACA into the focal point of the nation's efforts in space. 

From the initial discussions in 1954 of a United States International Geophysical Year satellite project, President Eisenhower's position had been that 

space activities should be conducted solely for peaceful purposes. The nature 

and objectives of Project Vanguard had reflected this policy. He summed up 

his feelings in a letter to Soviet Premier Nikolai Bulganin, dated January 12, 1958. 

Describing the demilitarization of space as "the most important problem which 

faces the world today," he proposed that­

. . . outer space should be used only for peaceful purposes. . . . can we not 

stop the production of such weapons which would use or, more accurately, misuse, outer space, now for the first time opening up as a field for man's exploration? Should not outer space be dedicated to the peaceful uses of mankind 

and denied to the purposes of war? ...::'.7 

Consistent with this "space for peace" policy, the concentration on February 7, 

1958, of Federal space activities in the Advanced Research Projects Agency of 

the Defense Department had been only an interim measure pending establishmen

of a new, civilian-controlled space management organization. Shortly before 

the creation of ARPA, Eisenhower had turned to his newly appointed, 18-member 

President's Scientific Advisory Committee (PSAC), chaired by President James 

R. Killian, Jr., of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and including among 

its members NACA Chairman Doolittle. Eisenhower instructed the Committee 

to draw up two documents: a broad policy statement familiarizing Americans with 

space and justifying Government-financed astronautical ventures, and a recommendation for organizing a national program in space science. The "Killian 

committee," as the early PSAC was called, chose two subcommittees. One, on 

policy, was headed by Edward H. Purcell, a physicist and executive vice-president 

of Bell Telephone Laboratories; the other, on organization, was led by Harvard 

University physicist James B. Fisk. 

The Fisk subcommittee on organization finished its work first. After talking 

with Doolittle and NACA Director Dryden, Fisk and his colleagues made a crucia

report to PSAC late in February. A new agency built around NACA should be 

created to carry out a comprehensive national program in astronautics, emphasizing peaceful, civilian-controlled research and development. The White House 

Advisory Committee on Government Organization, consisting of Nelson B. Rocke82 
Five months after Sputnik /J the administration began drawing up proposed legislation for consideration by the Congress. As Dryden later observed, NACA's 

cautious post-Sputnik strategy had "paid off, in the long run." 

PSAC's rationale for space exploration, entitled "Introduction to Outer Space," 

was issued on March 26. This statement proclaimed that "the compelling urge 

of man to explore and to discover," "the defense objective," "national prestige," 

and "new opportunities for scientific observation and experiment" were "four 

factors which give importance, urgency, and inevitability to the advancement of 

space technology." 28 

On April 2, Eisenhower sent his fonnal message on space matters to Congress. 

The document again indicated the President's intense conviction that space should 

be primarily reserved for scientific exploration, not military exploitation. It called 

for the establishment of a "National Aeronautical and Space Agency," which 

would absorb NACA and assume responsibility for all "space activities ... 

except ... those projects primarily associated with military requirements." The 

executive authority in the new organization would be exercised by one person, a 

director, who would be advised by a 17-member "National Aeronautical and Space 

Board." The proposal for a loose advisory board represented little more than an 

extension of the NACA Main Committee. The idea for a single executive, however, stemmed mainly from the opinions of Eisenhower's legislative experts and 

the officials of the Bureau of the Budget. They wanted authority in the new agency 

to be centralized, not diffused in a committee as was the case with NACA and 

the Atomic Energy Commission. The second and more critical departure from 

NACA history was Eisenhower's stipulation that the proposed organization would 

have not only research but development, managerial, and flight operational responsibilities. Unlike NACA, then, it would possess extensive authority for 

contracting research and development projects.29 

Twelve days later, on April 14, the Eisenhower administration sent to the 

Democratic-controlled Congress its bill to create such an agency, drafted largely 

by the Bureau of the Budget. 30 In the House of Representatives and the Senate, 

special committees began hearings on the bill. The measure would undergo 

extensive amendment and reworking at the hands of the legislators. But it soon 

was apparent that a new agency would come into being, that NACA would constitute its nucleus, and that it would undertake large-scale development and 

operational activities in addition to research. The odds were better than good 

that a manned satellite project would fall within the domain of the civilian 

organization. 

Proceeding on this assumption, engineers working at all of the NACA installations-at the ranges and wind tunnels at Langley and Ames, in the high-temperature jet facilities and rocket-test chambers at Lewis and Langley, at the 

83 
NACA witnesses testify before the Senate Special Committee on SPace and Astronautics, on May 6, 1958) with regard to bill S. 3609) «a bill to provide for research 

into problems of flight within and outside the earth)s atmosphere) and for other purposes." The legislative end product would be the National Aeronautics and Space 

Act of 1958) which created NASA. NACA witnesses shown here: left to right) Pau

C. Dembling) NACA Legal Adviser; James H. Doolittle) Chairman) NACA; and 

Abe Silverstein) Associate Director of N ACA Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory. 

rocket launch pads and control panels on Wallops Island, and in the flight hangars 

at the High Speed Flight Station-stepped up their research in materials, aerodynamics, and control. 31 By early 1958, according to Preston R. Bassett, chairman 

of N ACA's renamed Committee on Aircraft, ~1issile, and Spacecraft Aerodynamics, approximately 55 percent of all NACA activity was already applicable 

to space flight. 32 According to another set of NACA statistics, the Pilotless Aircraft Research Division (PARD) was expending 90 percent of its effort on space 

and missile research; the rest of the Langley laboratory, 40 percent; Ames, 29 percent; and Lewi!', 36 percent. 33 Virtually every member of NACA's technical 

staff eagerly anticipated a national program of space exploration. Since the 

raison d'etre of NACA always had been to imp!"ove the performance of piloted 

aircraft, most NACA engineers viewed manned space flight as an even more 

challenging ~~!d rewarding form of activity. 

84 
the official NACA position enunciated by Headquarters in January and February: While NACA ought to labor mightily in the furtherance of space science, 

it should continue to solve problems posed by other agencies engaged in development and operations, not handle programs itself. The "research-minded" element 

within the NACA technical staff probably was strongest at Ames. Most of the 

Ames complement had gone to work for NACA because of the nature of the 

organization. Its quasi-academic focus on research, its receptiveness to new and 

sometimes radical concepts, its relative obscurity and freedom from politics appealed to them. At the California institution the prospect of managing programs, 

which entailed fighting for appropriations, wrangling with industrial contractors, 

and perhaps competing with the military, seemed exceedingly distastefu1.34 

This attitude was not so prevalent at the two other laboratories or at the 

High Speed Flight Station. The years of direct participation with Air Force, 

Navy, and contract personnel in the research aircraft projects had given Walter 

Williams and his staff at the Flight Station a rather clear operational orientation, 

albeit with airplanes and not with space rockets and satellites. The Lewis and 

Langley staffs included a sizable number of research workers who, while enjoying 

the intellectual liberty of NACA, felt it would be quite a challenge to carry out a 

program of their own instead of simply providing advice for the military and 

industry. They looked on approvingly as the Eisenhower administration sent 

to Congress a measure substantially embodying their ideas. 

The academic approach to aeronautics and astronautics pervaded much of 

Langley, the oldest and in some ways the most tradition-minded of the NACA 

laboratories. The commitment to basic research and the devotion to theoretical 

calculations and wind tunnels as the most efficacious means of gathering aerodynamic data were as strong among some Langley engineers as among the Ames 

investigators. But in the Flight Research, Instrument Research, and Pilotless 

Aircraft Research Divisions at Langley; at the semiautonomous Pilotless Aircraft Research Station on Wallops Island, 70 miles away across Chesapeake Bay; 

and in the Flight Research Division at Lewis, there were people who had gained 

the bulk of their experience by working with airfoils mounted on the wings of 

airplanes in flight and from air-launched and ground-launched scale models propelled by rockets. For years they had been close to "development" and "operations" in their research activities, but they had turned their telemetered findings 

over to someone else for practical application. Now it seemed that the Soviet 

artificial moons might have given these ambitious aeronautical engineers a chance 

to put their imagination and technical experience to use in a manned space flight 

program. As Paul E. Purser, then head of the High Temperature Branch of 

PARD, put it, "In early 1958 we simply assumed we would get the manned 

satellite project. So we started to work." 35 

85 
load, had become more and more sophisticated. During 1957, by firing fivestage research rockets, they had been able to achieve a final-stage velocity of 

mach 16.36 And they already were doing conceptual work on a new and larger 

multistage research rocket, designed to boost scale models in their own stability 

and heat-transfer studies and to send up small instrumented satellites and space 

probes for the Air Force. Later called the Scout, this four- or five-stage, solidpropellant configuration could fire its stages sequentially to place either a 150­

pound payload in a 300-mile orbit, 100 pounds in a 5000-to-10,000-mile orbit, 

or 30 pounds in an orbit more than 22,000 miles from Earth.37 

In the hectic weeks and months following the Soviet satellite launchings, the 

advocates of manned space flight at Langley, realizing that their experience in 

nose-cone research was directly transferable to the design of manned satellite vehicles, turned their attention to spacecraft design as never before. NACA's initial agreement of March 14, 1958, to collaborate with the Air Force in drawing 

up plans for a manned orbital project gave official sanction to research they already had been doing largely on their own time. Theoretically this work still was 

in support of the Air Force and industrial manned-satellite studies. As it turned 

out, the Langley engineers were doing the early development work for their own 

enterprise, later to become Project Mercury. 

The sparkplug behind much of this activity was Maxime A. Faget, head of the 

Performance Aerodynamics Branch in PARD. Thirty-seven years old in 1958, 

Faget had been born in British Honduras, the son of an honored physician in the 

United States Public Health Service. In 1943, when his father was developing 

sulfone drugs for the National Leprosarium in Carville, Louisiana, the diminutive 

Faget received a bachelor of science degree in mechanical engineering from Louisiana State University. After his discharge from the Navy's submarine service 

in 1946, he joined the staff at Langley. He soon devised choking inlets for ramjets, a flight mach number meter, and several mathematical formulas for deriving 

data from Richard T. Whitcomb's area rule.38 Like Robert R. Gilruth and others 

before him at Langley, Faget preferred to enlarge his knowledge in aerodynamics 

and thermodynamics not in wind tunnels but by observing and telemetering data 

from vehicles in free flight. 

In mid-March, less than a week after the conclusion of the Air Force man-inspace working conference in Los Angeles, Gilruth, as Assistant Director of Langley, 

callen Faget and his other top engineers together to determine what should be 

the "Langley position" on optimum spacecraft configurations at the NACA Conference on High-Speed Aerodynamics, to be held at the Ames laboratory beginning 

March 18. The consensus of the meeting was that the Langley-PARD representatives should present a united front at Ames behind a ballistic concept. 39 

86 
and the members of the Committee on Aircraft, Missile, and Spacecraft Aerody

namics. Military personnel and representatives of most of the aircraft and missile 

firms also attended this forum. The 46 papers read at the conference, dealing 

with hypersonic, satellite, and interplanetary flight, represented the most advanced 

thinking in aerodynamics within NACA. Taken together, the papers demonstrated how far some N ACA engineers trained in aeronautics had pushed their 

research into the new discipline of astronautics. 40 

Much interest centered around three presentations proposing alternative con

figurations for manned orbital flight. The first of these papers was authored by 

Faget, Benjamine J. Garland, and James J. Buglia. Faget presented it as the 

orbital configuration regarded most favorably by PARD personnel-the wingless

nonlifting vehicle. Faget and his associates pointed out several advantages o

this simple ballistic approach. In the first place, ballistic missile research, devel

opment, and production experience was directly applicable to the design and con

struction of such a vehicle. The fact that it would be fired along a ballistic path 

meant that automatic stabilization, guidance, and control equipment could be 

kept at a minimum, thus saving weight and diminishing the likelihood of a 

malfunction. 

The nonlifting vehicle simplified return from orbit because the only necessary 

maneuver was the firing of retrograde rockets-"retrorockets"-to decelerate the 

spacecraft, deflecting it from orbit and subjecting it to atmospheric drag. And 

even that maneuver need not be too precise for the accomplishment of a safe 

recovery. After retrofire, successful entry depended solely on the inherent stability and structural soundness of the ballistic vehicle. Faget, Garland, and 

Buglia acknowledged that the pure-drag device necessitated landing in a large and 

imprecisely defined area, using a parachute, and dispensing with lifting and brak

ing controls to correct the rate of descent, the direction, or the impact force

Rather severe oscillations might occur during descent. But Faget and his associates noted that tests with model ballistic capsules in the 20-foot-diameter, freespinning tunnel at Langley had shown that attitude control jets, such as those used 

on the X-IB, X-2, and X-15 rocketplanes, could provide rate damping and help 

correct the oscillations, while a small drogue parachute should give still more 

stability. 

The three Langley engineers went so far as to propose a specific, if rudimentary, 

ballistic configuration-a nearly flat-faced cone angled about 15 degrees from 

the vertical, 11 feet long and 7 feet in diameter, using a heat sink rather than 

an ablative covering for thermal protection. Although the space passenger 

would lie supine against the heatshield at all times, during orbital flight the 

capsule would reverse its attitude so that the deceleration loads of reentry would 

be imposed from front to back through the man's body, the same as under 

87 
Once the basic Mercury spacecraft configuration had been decided) aerodynamic res ear c h 

turned to the further problems 

generated by associated equipmentJsuch as the escape tower and 

the landing parachute. At left is 

a model of the spacecraft with 

launch escape tower being prepared for test in the free-flight tunnel at Langley in 1959. Another 

scale model was fitted with a 

drogue parachute (below) and 

tested for stability during descent 

in LangleyJs vertical wind tunnel. 
yp

One dissenter from the Langley consensus favoring a manned projectile wa

John Becker, of the Langley Compressibility Research Division and a veteran o

X-15 development, who read a paper at the conference on possible winge

satellite configurations. Becker's main concern was the reentry heating problem 

in conjunction with some maneuverability within the atmosphere. Combinin

his theoretical findings with those of Charles W. Mathews of Langley, Becke

suggested a glider-like configuration. Instead of entering the atmosphere at 

low angle of 'lttack and using lift to return to Earth, it would deliberately com

in at a high angle of attack, employing its lower wing surface as a heatshield

Deceleration loads still could be held at a little over 1 g in this fashion. Th

gross weight of such a low-lift, high-drag vehicle would be only about 306

pounds. "Thus ... the minimum winged satellite vehicle is not prohibitivel

heavier than the drag type," concluded Becker. "The weight is sufficiently low 

to permit launching by booster systems similar to that for the drag vehicle de

scribed in a previous paper by Maxime A. Faget, Benjamine J. Garland, an

James J. Buglia." 42 

What some Langley researchers had come to regard as the "Ames position

on manned satellites was described in a paper by Thomas J. Wong, Charles A

Hermach, John O. Reller, and Bruce E. Tinling, four aeronautical engineers wh

had worked with Eggers. They presented a polished, more detailed version o

the blunt, semilifting M-l configuration conceived by Eggers the previous sum

mer. For such a vehicle a lift/drag ratio of Y2 could be effected simply b

removing the upper portion of a pure ballistic shape, making the body somewha

deeper than that of a half-cone, and adding trailing edge flaps for longitudina

and lateral control. Maximum deceleration forces would be only 2 g, lo

enough to permit a pilot to remain in control of his vehicle. Blunting woul

reduce heat conduction; the vehicle would be stable and controllable down t

subsonic speeds and would provide substantial maneuverability; and structura

weight would remain relatively low. Thus "it appears that a high-lift, high-dra

configuration of the type discussed has attractive possibilities for the reentry o

a satellite vehicle." 43 

The Ames engineers' presentation was not in the form of a spacecraft desig

challenge to the Langley-PARD aerodynamicists. Eggers and various other

at Ames remained convinced of the overall superiority of the lifting body fo

manned satellite missions. But as Eggers explained, "Ames was not enthusiasti

in 1958 to participate in an operational program for building and launchin

spacecraft of any kind, manned or unmanned." 44 While some Ames peopl

were rather avidly pushing the M-l concept; their avidity did not stem from 

any desire for operational dominance in a civilian space program. The Cal

89 
tion favored by the Ames group and their nonlifting device really was an academic 

one. Given the assumption that a manned satellite should be fired into orbit 

as quickly as possible, then the Atlas ICBM, not the still untested Titan or a 

Thor-fluorine combination, should serve as the launch vehicle for a one-ton 

spacecraft. The Atlas was following a tortuous route toward status as a reliable 

operational rocket, but it was still the only ICBM anywhere near being ready. 

The criterion already adopted by Faget and his associates, that an attempt to 

orbit a man should follow the simplest, quickest, and most dependable approach, 

negated a heavier, semilifting vehicle; this would have required adding an extra 

stage to the Atlas or some other rocket. The same criterion even ruled out 

Becker's low-lift, high-drag proposal. If the first manned orbital project was 

to adhere to and profit from ballistic missile experience, then the capabilities of 

the Atlas should be the first consideration. Faget himself did not have detailed 

data on the Atlas' design performance before, during, or for some time after the 

Ames conference; such information was highly classified and he lacked an official 

"need to know." About two months after he delivered his paper he learned 

through conversations with Frank J. Dore, an engineer-executive of Convair, what 

he needed to design a manned ballistic payload. 4 .; In the weeks following the 

Ames conference, Faget's and other Langley-PARD research teams, centering 

their efforts on the basic ballistic shape, started working out the details of hurling 

a man-carrying projectile around the world. 4G 

While the engineers at the NACA Virginia installations hurried their designs, 

tests, and plans, and while Congress received Eisenhower's space bill, the organizational transformation of NACA began. After the White House Advisory Committee on Government Organization recommended that a national civilian space 

program be built around NACA, Director Dryden and his subordinates in Washington began planning the revamping that would have to accompany the reorientation of NACA functions. Dryden called Abe Silverstein of Lewis to Washington 

to begin organizing a space flight development program. On April 2, as part 

of his space message to Congress, Eisenhower instructed N ACA and the Defense 

Department to review the projects then under ARPA to determine which should 

be transferred to the new civilian space agency. NACA and Defense Department 

representatives, in consultation with Bureau of the Budget officials, reached tentative agreements on the disposition of practically all the projects and facilities in 

question, with the notable exception of manned space flight. In accordance 

with Eisenhower's directive that NACA "describe the internal organization, management structure, staff, facilities, and funds which will be required," NACA set 

up an ad hoc committee on organization under the chairmanship of Assistant Director Ira Abbott. 47 

90 
breviated development plan for a manned orbital capsule, based on conclusion

reached at the Ballistic 11issile Division conference, to Headquarters USAF o

11arch 14. Five days later Air Force Under Secretary 11arvin A. 11acIntyr

requested $133 million from ARPA for manned satellite development durin

fiscal year 1959. On the same day that Eisenhower proposed the civilian agenc

to Congress, General White, Air Force Chief of Staff, secured approval for a man

in-space project from the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Despite the introduction of th

administration bill in Congress and the resultant tabling the next month of th

proposed agreement between White and Hugh Dryden for a joint Air Force

NACA manned satellite project, NACA continued to furnish advice and informa

tion to the Air Force. 48 

Throughout most of April, representatives from the various offices withi

ARDC, forming a "11an-in-Space Task Force" at the Ballistic 11issile Division

worked on an "Air Force 11anned 11ilitary Space System Development Plan.

The final goal was to "achieve an early capability to land a man on the moo

and return him safely to earth." The first of four phases, called "11an-in-Space

Soonest," involved orbiting a ballistic capsule, first carrying instruments, then pri

mates, and finally a man. In the second phase, "11an-in-Space-Sophisticated,

a heavier capsule, capable of a 14-day flight, would be put in orbit. "Lunar Re

connaissance," the third phase, would soft-land on the 1100n with instruments, in

cluding a television camera. The last phase was "11anned Lunar Landing an

Return," wherein primates, then men, would be orbited around the 11oon, lande

on its surface, and returned safely. The whole u·ndertaking was supposed to cos

$1.5 billion, a level of financial support that should complete the program b

the end of 1965. The Thor-Vanguard, the Thor with a fluorine upper stage

and a "Super Titan" topped by fluorine second and third stages would be th

launch vehicles. 4 () 

The detailed designs and procedures for the 11an-in-Space-Soonest portio

of the long-range program went to Headquarters USAF on 11ay 2. Based o

Thor-117L, Thor-Vanguard, and Thor-fluorine booster combinations, the "Soon

est" concept posited a manned orbit of Earth on the tenth launch of the Thor

fluorine system, in October 1960. 50 

Meanwhile, on April 30, the contractor team of Avco and Convair, which

since the Sputniks, had spent more time and money on manned satellite design 

than other industrial firms, presented to the Air Force a highly detailed proposa

for development of a "minimum" vehicle. Featuring the "bare" Atlas, the basi

"one and one-half stage" ICB11 with no second stage, the Avco-Convair approach 

would orbit a man inside a sphere weighing 1500-2000 pounds. The steel-mes

drag brake, a metallic, inverted parachute, would be used for atmospheric entry. 5

91 
booster, and that it presented little "growth potential," in contrast to the Thorfluorine system. 52 As early as March, moreover, ARDC's advisers in NACA, led 

by Maxime Faget, had criticized the complex drag-brake apparatus as "poor policy 

that might interfere with the early completion of the program as well as being a 

totally unnecessary device." :'3 

However, Air Force Vice Chief of Staff LeMay, whose directive back in February had accelerated the proposed military manned satellite project, now ordered 

a reevaluation of the Avco-Convair scheme. LeMay felt this was possibly a 

cheaper way to get a man into space than Man-in-Space-Soonest, which called 

for an expenditure of more than $100 million for fiscal 1959. On May 20, 

Lieutenant General Samuel E. Anderson, Commander of ARDC, replied that 

in view of a general lack of confidence within ARDC in the Avco metal shuttlecock 

device, the Air Force should pursue the Man-in-Space-Soonest approach. LeMay accepted this recommendation. ~ Henceforth, although there would be 

significant amendments to Man-in-Space-Soonest, the Air Force's own plan 

would encounter diminishing competition from would-be contractors' alternatives. 

While Anderson was discouraging LeMay's interest in the Avco-Convair proposal, General Schriever, Commander of the Ballistic Missile Division, wrote Anderson that his office was ready to proceed with a manned orbital project; the 

selection of a capsule contractor awaited only allocation of sufficient funds. But 

ARDC still could not secure full authorization from the Advanced Research Projects Agency, under which the Air Force would have to fund a project to put a 

man in orbit. ARPA had sketched the Soonest plan before the National Security 

Council Planning Board, which supposedly had a "feeling of great urgency to 

achieve ... Man-in-Space-Soonest at the earliest possible date." But ARPA 

Director Johnson still shrank from the initial $100-million-plus request contained 

in the program outline. 5 

;:; 

The main trouble was the high cost of mating the intermediate-range Thor 

with 117L and Vanguard second stages, developing an entirely new rocket with 

a fluorine powerplant, and carrying out perhaps as many as 30 development 

flights before trying to orbit a manned capsule. 5G Late in ~1ay, Air Force Under 

Secretary MacIntyre and Assistant Secretary Richard E. Horner suggested that 

making the Atlas a carrier for manned flight might cut program costs below the 

$100 million mark. ARDC then had its Ballistic Missile Division prepare an 

alternative approach for Man-in-Space-Soonest. The B~1D answer was that 

using the Atlas would mean reducing the orbital altitude of the 2000-3000-pound 

capsule from about 170 miles to about 115 miles. This in turn would mean that 

voice contact would be lost for long periods unless more orbital tracking stations 

were built around the globe. Despite these reservations, on June 15, the Ballistic 

92 
and authorized the Air Force to proceed with study contracts on the life sup

port system of the proposed manned capsule. The Wright Air Developmen

Center let two concurrent three-month study contracts, at $370,000 each, to Nort

American Aviation and General Electric, which were to design the space cabi

and ecological mechanisms and build "mockups"-full-scale working models

of the capsule interior. 57 

By late June, with the reworked version of the space bill proposed by th

Eisenhower administration almost ready to be voted on in Congress, it wa

apparent that the Air Force was in much more of a hurry to hurl a man int

orbit than was ARPA. The new Defense Department agency remained reluc

tant to commit heavy financing to a project that might well be abandoned o

transferred when the civilian space organization proposed by Eisenhower cam

into existence. Throughout June and into July, an ARPA Man in Space Pane

headed by Samuel B. Batdorf, received briefings and proposals from the A

Force and in turn reported to Herbert F. York, chief scientist in ARPA. Bu

during these weeks Faget, serving as the regular NACA representative on th

ARPA panel, began to detect a definite change in the attitude of ARPA person

nel toward NACA. The essence of this change, according to Faget, was th

growing belief that now perhaps ARPA should give more advice to NACA o

space technology than vice versa, as had been the case. For example, Yor

recommended to Johnson that NACA Director Dryden's "personal concurrence

be obtained before any Air Force man-in-space program was formally approve

by ARPA. 5

8 

On June 25 and 26, the ARPA Man in Space Panel sponsored a meeting i

Washington for representatives from Headquarters ARDC, the Ballistic Missi

Division, Convair, Lockheed, Space Technology Laboratories, and NACA. Th

meeting was called to resolve such outstanding questions as the relationshi

between payload weight and the lifting capabilities of various booster system

booster reliability, and ablation versus heat sink thermal protection technique

The gathering produced little specific technical agreement. Into July, ARP

continued to hold back adequate "go-ahead" funds for a full-fledged Air Forc

effort to send a manned vehicle into orbit. 5 9 

NACA MAKES READY 

Throughout the spring and into the summer of 1958, as the administratio

bill made its way through Congress, NACA had given its full participation an

support to the man-in-space planning sessions of ARPA and the Air Force. Bu

at the same time the research engineers at Langley and on Wallops Island wer

pushing their own studies. They could see the opportunity to carry out a manne

93 
conducting wind tunnel experiments and rocket launches with models of orbital 

vehicles.60 

At the Langley laboratory, proponents and would-be managers of a manned 

space flight program studied the nonlifting approach to orbital circumnavigation, 

refined this concept, tested it, restudied it, and invented new ways to prove hardware feasibility and reliability. Floyd L. Thompson, Associate Director of Langley 

and Acting Director most of the time, gave Robert Gilruth the go-ahead for 

manned satellite work. In tum, Gilruth gave a free hand to PARD Chief Joseph 

A. Shortal, Faget, Purser, Charles Mathews, Alan B. Kehlet, Willard S. Blanchard, Jr., Carl A. Sandahl, and others at the Virginia laboratory.61 

The search for better experimental methods in manned satellite research 

produced a concept by Purser and Faget for a new test rocket which would 

employ a cluster of four solid-propellant Sergeant rockets to provide a high 

initial thrust. Fired almost vertically and unguided except for large stabilizing 

aerodynamic fins, the rocket would be an inexpensive means of testing full-scale 

models of spacecraft in the most critical phases of an orbital mission-launch, 

abort, and escape at different speeds and under different stresses, parachute 

deployment, and recovery. Such a vehicle could also "toss" a man in a ballistic 

capsule to an altitude of perhaps 100 miles. Late in February, Purser and Faget 

received a job order and authorization to proceed with design work on the test 

rocket, which at that time they called "High Ride." 62 

Another experimental technique devised by the PARD engineers was a fullscale "capsule simulator." It was designed to test the practicability of controlling 

the attitude of a ballistic vehicle manually by activating air jets mounted on its 

body, similar to the method that would be used to control the X-15 at the peak 

of its trajectory. In March, Purser and several others in PARD put into operation a crude simulator rig featuring a small bed covered by a tent and attached 

to a pendulum. The pendulum permitted an oscillation period of two to four 

seconds, during which the "pilot" attempted to realign the simulator by firing 

the air jets. Throughout the spring Langley test pilot Robert A. Champine, 

Purser, and others took turns riding the simulator. Frequently modified and 

improved, it provided useful data on spacecraft reaction controls.G3 

Meanwhile Faget and his coworkers were steadily modifying the manned 

ballistic satellite design itself. Almost from the beginning of their design studies 

and tests, late in 1957, they had assumed that a ballistic vehicle should enter the 

atmosphere at an attitude 180 degrees from that of launch, so the g forces would 

be imposed on the front of the body under both acceleration and deceleration. 

The "tail" of the capsule when it went into orbit would become its "nose" during 

reentry. Their original capsule configuration-a squat, domed body with a nearly 

94 
portion. But models of this configuration tested in the Langley free

spinnin

tunnel proved dynamically unstable at subsonic speeds. The Faget group the

lengthened the capsule fuselage and eliminated the heatshield lip. By March 195

the Langley ballistic vehicle, as described by Faget, Garland, and Buglia at th

Ames Conference on High-Speed Aerodynamics, was an elongated cone. Th

design contrasted sharply with the configuration sketched earlier that month a

the ARDC working conference in Los Angeles-a rather deep dome, the rounde

front end of which was the heatshield. GI 

The elongated cone provided dynamic stability during the blazing perio

of reentry, but tests in the II-inch hypersonic tunnel and other tunnels at Langle

showed that too much heat would be transferred by turbulent convection to i

afterbody. Besides thermodynamic considerations, the NACA planners coul

not figure out how to fit into the top part of the cone the two parachutes nece

sary for its recovery. The Virginia designers next tried a conical nose shape, the

a rounded one with a short cylinder attached to it, but the problems of heat transfe

from the heatshield and insufficient space for parachute packaging remained fo

both of these configurations. It was late summer 1958 before the Langley-PAR

researchers had settled on a capsule design combining the advantages of maximum 

stability in a nonlifting body, relatively low afterbody heating, and a suitab

parachute compartment. This was the shape that became the basis of the Mercur

spacecraft-a blunt face, a frustum, or truncated cone, and a cylinder mounte

atop the frustum. The completely flat heatshield had been discarded because 

trapped too much heat, while a rounded face only increased heat transfer. Th

design ultimately chosen featured a heatshield with a diameter of 80 inches, 

radius of curvature of 120 inches, and a ratio of 1.5 be:ween the radius of th

curve and the diameter of the shield.G,} This heatshield design, as worked ou

by William E. Stoney, Jr., of PARD at Langley, and confirmed by Alvin Seif

Thomas N. Canning, and other members of the Vehicle Environment Division 

Ames, got rid of a maximum amount of heat during reentry. GG 

Materials research continued at Langley throughout the spring and summe

In their man-in-space development plans, the Air Force experts initially ha

favored an ablation heatshield, but their NACA advisers generally felt that th

ablation technique was not yet reliable enough for manned reentry. In March

two of the most respected engineers in the NACA establishment, Gilruth an

Soule of Langley, assisted by Clotaire Wood of Headquarters, had presented 

the Air Research and Development Command NACA's design concepts fo

manned orbital flight, including use of the heat sink on a blunt body as the be

thermal protection procedure. The question remained open, however. In Jun

the Wright Air Development Center, the Ballistic Missile Division, and NAC

agreed to undertake joint investigation of heatshield materials, the objective bein

95 
and almost foolproof means of escape would be essential to. any launch system 

for manned space flight. The Air Force man-in-space designs had included an 

escape mechanism with many moving parts and a degree of complexity unacceptable to the NACA engineers. The Air Force plans envisioned a pusher rocket 

escape system, meaning that a rocket or rockets would fire at the base of the 

capsule to hurl it clear of the booster. The PARD rocket experts, again led by 

Faget, rejected this approach and began working on a solid-fueled tractor escape 

rocket. This would be mounted above the capsule and would pull it upward 

and away from a faulty launch vehicle. By the end of August 1958, Willard 

Blanchard and Sherwood Hoffman of PARD, working on plans and suggestions 

hurriedly made by Faget and Andre J. Meyer, Jr., had drawn designs for the 

escape rocket and tower, consisting of a slender rocket case and nozzle and three 

thin struts fastened to the cylinder of the capsule. The Wallops Island engineers 

already were planning a series of test firings of the awkward-looking escape 

mechanism, using "boilerplate" capsules, or full-scale metal models. Gil 

The solid-fueled tractor rocket with a minimum of components reflected the 

Langley-PARD preoccupation with the easiest, most dependable way to get a 

manned spacecraft into orbit. There were certain interlocking aspects of the 

approach. The "bare" Atlas, the regular ICBM without an upper stage, should 

be the booster. With the ballistic capsule, acceleration forces during launch 

would be about 5 or 6 g; on a shallow reentry trajectory, deceleration loads should 

not exceed 8 or 9 g. But an abort and reentry after a launch following the steep 

trajectory and unbroken acceleration of a single-stage booster could impose as 

much as 20 times the force of gravity on the capsule passenger. Air Force 

planners had considered a two-stage booster and a flight profile with a more 

shallow trajectory, or a variable-drag device like the Avco metal parachute, to 

lessen the abort-reentry g loads-although by midsummer cost considerations 

were pushing the Air Force toward the bare Atlas. GO For body support, the 

Air Force had thought in terms of some kind of rotational apparatus to maintain 

continuously optimum positioning in relation to the direction of acceleration. 70 

This procedure, the NACA engineers felt, was too complicated and probably 

entailed too much weight. 

As Man-in-Space-Soonest was taking shape in late spring, featuring a twostage booster and either a rotatable interior cabin or a rotatable couch, Faget had 

another idea. Why not build a lightweight, stationary couch that a man would 

lie not on but in? This was the fundamental principle behind the contour couch 

designed by Faget, fabricated out of fiber glass at Langley, and tested on the big 

Navy centrifuge at Johnsville late in July.71 There, in what Faget called "the 

only technical 'break-through' of the summer," Carter C. Collins and R. Flanagan 

96 
The bare Atlas could be used to hurl a man into orbit, and an abort need not 

impair his safety.72 

BIRTH OF NASA 

Even before the contour couch was demonstrated, the Air Force research and 

development planners also had about accepted the bare Atlas as a manned satellite 

booster, although they retained serious misgivings regarding abort and reentry g 

loads, orbital altitude, iifting ability, and reliability. But by early July 1958, there 

actually seemed to be an inverse relationship between the Air Force's progress on 

Man-in-Space-Soonest and the progress of the space bill through Congress. On 

July 10, Brigadier General Homer A. Boushey of Headquarters USAF informed 

the Air Research and Development Command that the Bureau of the Budget was 

firmly in favor of placing the space exploration prog.ram, including manned space 

flight, in the proposed civilian space organization. Nothing could be done to 

release further go-ahead funds from the Advanced Research Projects Agency.73 

Only a little more than three months after the Eisenhower administration's 

draft legislation went to the Capitol, both houses of Congress on July 16 passed 

the National Aeronautics and Space Act of 1958, creating the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. Despite this long-expected action, there still 

seemed to be a chance for Man-in-Space-Soonest, provided it could be carried out 

at a relatively modest cost. So Roy Johnson and his subordinates in ARPA 

continued to admonish the Air Force to scale down its funding requests. The 

Ballistic Missile Division replied that a fiscal 1959 budgetary allotment of only 

$50 million, the latest figure suggested by ARPA, would delay the first manned 

orbital launch until late 1961 or early 1962. In its sixth development plan for 

Man-in-Space-Soonest, issued on July 24, BMD proposed orbiting a man by 

June 1960 with the bare Atlas, at a cost of $106.6 million. This was an increase 

of $7.3 million over the project cost estimate contained in the fifth development 

plan on June 15. Schriever personally wrote Anderson, Commander of ARDC, 

that the Ballistic Missile Division was already studying requirements for a worldwide tracking network, that the heat sink versus ablation question was under 

examination, that three companies were designing the 117L and the Vanguard 

second stage as possible backup systems for the bare Atlas, and that invitations 

for a briefing for prospective capsule contractors could be mailed within 24 hours. 

Schriever asked for immediate approval for Man-in-Space-Soonest at the $106.6 

million level. 71 

In Washington, on July 24 and 25, Ballistic Missile Division specialists gave a 

series of briefings for ARDC, Secretary of the Air Force Douglas, the Air Staff, 

and ARPA. The ARPA briefing featured urgent appeals for full, immediate 

program approval to give the United States a real chance to be "soonest" with a 

97 
recently passed Space Act, already was planning its own manned satellite project, 

perhaps to be executed in conjunction with ARPA, at a cost of about $40 million 

for fiscal 1959. Consequently, said Johnson, it was futile for the Air Force to 

expect more than $50 million for the current fiscal year for Man-in-Space-Soonest. 

The impiication was the Air Force would be lucky to receive even that.7~ 

Eisenhower signed the National Aeronautics and Space Act into law on July 29, 

1958. His action brought into being an organization to "plan, direct, and conduct 

aeronautical and space activities," to "arrange for participation by the scientific 

community in planning scientific measurements and observations," and to "provide 

for the widest practicable and appropriate dissemination of information concerning 

its activities and the re~lllts thereof"-in short, to guide the Nation into the Space 

Age. 76 Space activities related to defense were to continue in the DOD. 

There were certain basic differences between the final act and the bill that 

representatives of NACA, the Bureau of the Budget, and Eisenhower's other 

advisers had drafted and sent to Congress in April. These changes were the 

product especially of the activities and influence of three men: Lyndon B. Johnson, 

Senate majority leader and chairman of the Preparedness Subcommittee of the 

Senate Committee on Armed Services and the Senate Special Committee on Space 

and Astronautics; John \\T. McCormack, House majority leader and chairman 

of the House Select Committee on Astronautics and Space Exploration; and 

Senate minority leader Styles Bridges of New Hampshire, ranking Republican on 

the Senate space committee. 77 

The large Space Board proposed by the administration to advise the head 

of the civilian agency gave way to a five-to-nine-member National Aeronautics 

and Space Council, charged with advising the President, who was to be its chairman. The provision for a National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 

headed by an administrator and a deputy administrator, rather than a "Space 

Agency" headed by a single director was, according to two staff members of 

the House space committee, "a mighty promotion in Washington bureaucratic 

terms." 78 Reflecting general concern in Congress over the relationship between 

space technology and national defense, the Space Act added a Civilian-Military 

Liaison Committee, appointed by the President, to ensure full interchange of 

information and data acquired in NASA and Defense Department programs. 

Other significant amendments pertained to patent procedures, authority to hire 

some 260 persons excepted from the civil service rating system, and NASA's obligation to cooperate with "other nations and groups of nations." 70 

Eisenhower, acting mainly on the advice of Killian, his chief scientific adviser, 

passed over the respected, apolitical Dryden, Director of NACA since 1949, and 

named T. Keith Glennan, president of the Case Institute of Technology in Cleve98 
for the new entity, while Dryden would function as NASA

s scientific and technicaloverseer. On August 15 the Senate voted its confirmation of Glennan and 

Dryden, and four days later the new Administrator met with the Abbott organization committee to review the proposed organization of NASA. 80 

The National Aeronautics and Space Administration, absorbing more than 

8000 employees and an appropriation of over $100 million from NACA, was 

beginning to take shape. Under the terms of the Space Act, accompanying 

White House directives, and later agreements with the Defense Department, the 

fledgling agency acquired the Vanguard project from the Naval Research Laboratory; the Explorer project and other space activities at the Army Ballistic Missile 

Agency (but not the von Braun rocket group) ; the services of the Jet Propulsion 

Laboratory, hitherto an Army contractor; and an Air Force study contract with 

North American for a million-pound-thrust engine, plus other Air Force rocket 

engine projects and instrumented satellite studies. In addition, NASA was to 

receive $117 million in appropriations for space ventures from the Defense Department.81 But the Space Act was silent regarding organizational responsibility 

for manned space flight. 

OTHER MEANS TO THE SAME END 

Besides Man-in-Space-Soonest of the Air Force, there were two other manned 

military space ventures seeking approval from ARPA in the summer of 1958. A 

rather heated competition was underway among the three armed services in the 

area of manned space flight. The Army's entry, much simpler than the Air Force 

approach, was supposed to lift a man into the space region "sooner" than Soonest. 

After the Sputniks, von Braun and his colleagues at Redstone Arsenal had had 

great success resuscitating their instrumented satellite project. Now they had 

unearthed one of their old proposals for using a modified Redstone to launch a 

man in a sealed capsule along a steep ballistic, or suborbital, trajectory. The 

manned capsule would reach an altitude of approximately 150 miles before splashing into the Atlantic about the same distance downrange from Cape Canaveral. 

The passive passenger would be housed in an ejectable cylindrical compartment 

about four feet wide by six feet long, which in tum would be housed in an inverted 

version of the kind of nose cone used on the Jupiter IRBM. 8 2 

The Army tried to justify the proposal partly as a step toward improving 

techniques of troop transportation. But, more important, such a ballistic shot 

supposedly could be carried out during 1959; this would recoup some of the 

prestige captured by the Soviet satellite launchings as well as furnish some muchneeded medical information, especially regarding high g loading and the effect 

of about six minutes of weightlessness. Initially called "Man Very High," the 

99 
had decided not to participate. So the Army had renamed the plan "Project 

Ada~" and had begun pushing it as an Army project, with Navy cooperation 

expected in the medical and recovery phases.83 

The Adam proposal began the formal climb from the Army Ballistic Missile 

Agency through the Pentagon hierarchy to the office of the Secretary of the 

Army, then to ARPA. It came under very heavy criticism from sources both 

inside and outside the Defense Department. The ARPA Man in Space Panel 

unequivocally recommended that the proposal be turned down. Hugh Dryden 

of N ACA told the House Space Committee that "tossing a man up in the air 

and letting him come back . . . is about the same technical value as the circus 

stunt of shooting a young lady from a cannon ...." And Arthur Kantrowitz 

of Avco, whose company was still trying to get the Air Force manned satellite 

contract, termed Adam "another project which is off the main track because I 

feel that weightlessness is not that great a problem." 84 

On July 11 , ARPA Director Johnson notified Secretary of the Army Wilbur 

M. Brucker that ARPA did not consider Project Adam a practical proposal for 

manned space flight. Consequently the Army could not expect to receive the 

$10-12 million it requested for the "up-and-down" project. Early in August, 

Brucker, mentioning that the Central Intelligence Agency had expressed an 

interest in Adam, defended the approach as a potential "national politicalpsychological demonstration." Deputy Secretary of Defense Donald A. Quarles 

replied that in light of the Soviet achievement of orbiting an animal, the Air 

Force man-in-space project, and the creation of NASA, a decision on Project 

Adam would have to await "further study." In succeeding months the controversial "lady from a cannon" plan slipped quietly into the inactive category at 

Redstone ArsenaP5 

Still a third military proposal for manned space flight came forth during 

the contentious first half of 1958. In April the Navy Bureau of Aeronautics 

presented to ARPA the results of its manned satellite study, cleverlyacronymized 

"MER I" (for "Manned Earth Reconnaissance"). This approach called for 

an orbital mission in a novel vehicle-a cylinder with spherical ends. After 

being fired into orbit by a two-stage booster system, the ends would expand 

laterally along two structural, telescoping beams to make a delta-wing, inflated 

glider with a rigid nose section. The configuration met the principal MER I 

requirement: the vehicle would be controllable from booster burnout to landing 

on water. Fabric construction obviously implied a new departure in the design 

of reentry vehicles. At ARPA's direction the Bureau of Aeronautics undertook 

a second study (MER II), this one to be done jointly on contract by Convair, 

manufacturer of the Atlas, and the Goodyear Aircraft Corporation. The Convair100 
however, Project Mercury already was moving ahead steadily under NASA. 

Funds for a MER III phase (model studies) were not forthcoming from the 

Defense Department, and the intriguing MER concept became a little-known 

aspect of the prehistory of manned orbital flight. 

MER, sometimes referred to as "Project MER," was by far the most ambitious 

of the manned space flight proposals made by the military in 1958. Its emphasis 

on new hardware and new techniques meant it really had little chance for approval 

then. Conversely, Project Adam was not ambitious enough for the time and 

money involved. Of the three military proposals, Man-in-Space-Soonest came 

closest to full program approval. But by August the Air Force's hopes for putting 

a man into orbit sooner than the Soviet Union, or than any other agency in this 

country, were fading rapidly before the growing consensus that manned space 

flight should be the province of the civilian space administration. 

NASA GETS THE JOB 

After the passage of the Space Act on July 16, Killian had requested from 

Dryden a formal memorandum placing on record NACA's views regarding a 

manned satellite project. Two days later, a week and a half before Eisenhower 

signed the act, Dryden sent his memorandum to Killian. The NACA director 

sketched his organization's extensive research background in such pertinent areas 

as control systems for hypersonic vehicles, thermodynamics, heat-resistant structural materials, and the current X-15 project. Then, in his strongest official 

statement up to that time on development, operations, and managerial responsibilities, Dryden concluded, "The assignment of the direction of the manned 

satellite program to NASA would be consistent with the President's message to 

Congress and with the pertinent extracts from the National Aeronautics and 

Space Act of 1958 . ..." 87 

Like everyone else, including Air Force leaders, Dryden wanted to avert a 

potential conflict between NASA and the Air Force regarding manned space 

flight. On the same day that Eisenhower signed the Space Act, July 29, Dryden 

met with Roy Johnson and Secretary of Defense Neil H. McElroy to discuss the 

future management of manned space programs, but no agreement was reached. 

The conferees adjourned to await action from the White House. 88 

Some time between then and August 20, probably on August 18, Eisenhower 

made his decision. Again apparently acting on Killian's advice, he assigned to 

NASA specific responsibility for developing and carrying out the mission of 

manned space flight. This decision provided the coup de grace to the Air Force's 

plans for Man-in-Space-Soonest. Deputy Secretary of Defense Quarles decided 

the $53.8 million that had been set aside for various Air Force space projects, 

101 
for the Soonest project. He added that Eisenhower's action obviously made 

impossible the immediate project approval Schriever had urged on July 24. A 

seventh and final manned satellite development plan, which the Ballistic Missile 

Division submitted to ARDC on September 11, significantly dropped the tenn 

"Soonest" from its descriptive title. 8 9 

The Air Force would proceed with its Dyna-Soar project in conjunction with 

NASA and later would inaugurate a "Discoverer biosatellite program" based on 

the 117L system. After August 1958, however, the project to rocket into orbit 

a man in a ballistic capsule was under undisputed civilian management, although 

it would draw heavily on all three services as well as industry and universities. 

The National Aeronautics and Space Administration received authorization 

to carry out this primitive manned venture into lower space mainly because 

Eisenhower was wedded to a "space for peace" policy. He was joined by his 

closest advisers, most members of Congress, and perhaps a majority of politically 

conscious Americans. In 1958 there simply was no clear military justification 

o for putting a man in orbit.D And while there is little evidence on this point, 

it may be assumed that the very ambitiousness of the Air Force planners, to 

whom the orbiting of a manned ballistic vehicle was only the first phase of a 

costly program aimed at putting a man on the Moon, discouraged the budgetconscious Eisenhower administration. Already enormous sums were being spent 

on ballistic missiles and other forms of advanced weapons technology. 

Also helping to influence the President and his advisers, however, was the 

fact that NACA, around which NASA would be built, already had gone far in 

designing, testing, planning, and generally making itself ready for the execution 

of a manned satellite project. For months representatives from NACA Headquarters had conferred periodically with prospective contractors like Avco, Lockheed, and General Electric on such subjects as heatshield technology, environmental control systems, and communications requirements. 91 As early as March 

1958, both before and after the Ames conference, Maxime Faget and Caldwell 

C. Johnson, working in PARD, together with Charles Mathews of the Langley 

Flight Research Division, had drawn up basic outlines for the manned ballistic 

satellite mission, the capsule configuration and internal equipment, heating loads 

and structural considerations, and weight limitations for a manned payload lifted 

into orbit by an Atlas. Throughout the spring and summer, Johnson, a selfmade engineer attached to PARD from the Langley Engineering Services Division, 

continually modified his designs and specifications for the "can" to be mounted 

on the Atlas ICBM.D2 

By the end of the summer, experimenters operating in the 2000-foot towing tank 

at the Virginia laboratory already were using Langley-made scale models and 

102 
-r-.­ I 

During the spring of 1958 engineers at Langley both researched and brainstormed 

the problems associated with a manned spacecraft. These engineering sketches were 

done in May 1958 by Caldwell C. Johnson. In the upper left, the spacecraft is still 

attach ed to the, booster in powered ascent; the nose fairings have just jettisoned, 

exposing the parachute containers and permitting the antenna to deploy. Upper 

right, reentry has begun and the spent retrorockets are being jettisoned. Lower left, 

the parachutes are deploying and the heatshield is being jettisoned. And at lower 

right, the spacecraft has safel'y landed in the water and is now communicating. 
Two models of possible capsule configurations from early 1958. The cone 

shape was soon obsolete, while the 

rounded - end-with - cylinder configuration is clearly related to C. C. Johnson's 

engineering sketches. It is interesting 

that the couch configuration is the same 

in the two divergent capsule designs. 
A water-drop test at the Langley laboratory is about to check the landing characteristics and flotation stability of the 

cone-shaped capsule configuration. 

dummies of the ballistic capsule in water impact trials, while other engineers were 

carrying out air-drop tests of a boilerplate capsule parachute system over Chesapeake Bay. And a group from the Lewis laboratory was commuting regularly to 

Langley to participate in design discussions on all the orbital spacecraft systems, 

especially on thermal protection techniques and on the attitude control, separation (posigrade), and reentry (retrograde) rockets.93 

Meanwhile Faget's and Paul Purser's proposal made early in the year for a 

clustered-rocket test booster to be used in payload design research and in manned 

vertical flights had undergone a politic modification. After Dryden publicly drew 

his analogy between the Army's Project Adam and the circus lady shot from a 

cannon, the PARD research team leaders dropped the name "High Ride" and 

shelved their ideas for using the rocket to fire a man into space. In August, Faget 

asked William M. Bland, Jr., and Ronald Kolenkiewicz of PARD to prepare 

precise specifications for a vehicle to launch full-scale and full-weight capsules to a 

maximum altitude of 100 miles. Only a year would pass before the experimental 

rocket went into operation. When it did, the former "High Ride" would have 

acquired the new nickname "Little Joe." 94 • 

Only three days after Eisenhower signed the Space Act and more than two 

105 
plans for a manned ballistic satellite; his remarks amounted to the first open dis

cussion of the technical aspects of what was soon to become Project Mercury

After exhibiting models of the contour couch and an outdated cone-shaped capsule

Gilruth turned to the proposed launch vehicle. Here he revealed the fears and 

hopes about the Atlas that would characterize NASA's efforts to orbit a man: 

The Atlas ... has enough performance to put this in orbit and the guidance 

system is accurate enough, but there is the matter of reliability. You don't 

want to put a man in a device unless it has a very good chance of working 

every time. 

There are scheduled many Atlas firings in the next year and a half. Reliability is something that comes with practice. It is to be anticipated that this 

degree of reliability will occur as a result of just carrying out the national 

ballistic missile program. 05 

The Main Committee of NACA held its last meeting on August 21 and formally 

extended best wishes to NASA and Administrator Glennan, who attended the 

meeting.o6 In mid-September, Glennan and Roy Johnson of ARPA agreed tha

their two agencies should join in a "Man-in-Space program based on the 'capsule

technique." 97 They then established a joint NASA-ARPA Manned Satellit

Panel to draw up specific recommendations and a basic procedural plan for the 

manned satellite project. Composed of Gilruth, who served as chairman, and 

Faget of Langley, Eggers of Ames, Williams of the Flight Station, and George M

Low and \\farren J. North of Lewis, representing NASA, together with Robertson 

C. Youngquist and Samuel Batdorf of ARPA, the panel began holding meetings 

during the last week of September.98 

On September 25, Glennan issued a proclamation declaring that "as of the 

close of business September 30, 1958, the National Aeronautics and Space Administration has been organized and is prepared to discharge the duties and exercise 

the powers conferred upon it." 99 In a message to all NACA personnel he added: 

One way of saying what will happen would be to quote from the legalistic language of the Space Act. ... My preference is to state it in a quite different way-that what will happen ... is a sign of metamorphosis. It is an indication of the changes that will occur as we develop our capacities to handle the 

bigger job that is ahead. We have one of the most challenging assignments 

that has ever been given to modern man. 100 

On Tuesday afternoon, September 30, more than 8000 people left work as 

employees of the 43-year-old NACA. The next morning almost all of them 

returned to their same jobs with NASA. 

106 

~ ~ Part Two ~ ~ 

!!!~•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••................................................................................................... 
 

DEVELOPMENT 
 

....................................-..........................- ..................................................................................... 
 

Specifications for a Manned Satelli te 

(OCTOBER-DECEMBER 1 958 ) 

"All right. Let's get on with it!" 

These were the infonnal words of leadership that launched the development 

of the United States' first manned space flight program. They were spoken by 

T. Keith Glennan, newly appointed first Administrator of the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, following a briefing by eight civil service 

aeronautical engineers who felt ready to become "astronautical engineers." This 

was exactly a year and three days after national debate and preliminary planning 

had been precipitated by Sputnik I. Glennan's words symbolized the firm resolution of the Congress, the Eisenhower administration, and the American people 

to accept the challenge of nature, technology, and the Soviet Union to explore 

the shallows of the universe. 1 

By the first anniversary of Earth's first artificial satellite, Americans generally 

seemed willing, if not eager, to accept the rationale of scientific experts and engineering enthusiasts that the new ocean of space could now and should now be 

explored by man in person. The human and the physical energies necessary for 

man to venture beyond Earth's atmosphere had become, for the first time in 

the history of this planet, available in feasible fonn. These energies only needed 

transfonnation by organization and development to transport man into the 

beyond. 

If these were the articles of faith behind the first American manned satellite 

program, they had not been compelling enough to spark action toward space flight 

before the Sputniks. Public furor was inspired primarily not by the promise of 

extending aeronautics and missilery into astronautics, but rather by the nationalistic fervor and punctured pride caused by the obviously spectacular Soviet 

achievements. Faith, fervor, and even some fear were perhaps necessary if the 

109 
A MANNED SATELLITE PLAN 

The establishment of an organization to carry through a manned space fligh

program depended upon gaining the national decision to create a space agenc

and then upon defining the objectives of the space agency as a whole and of it

highest priority programs in particular. In July 1958 legislative debate ha

ended in the passage of the National Aeronautics and Space Act. In Augus

administrative power struggles had abated with President Dwight D. Eisenhower

appointments and Senate confirmation of the administrative heads of the new 

space agency. By September the technical and jurisdictional questions remainin

to be solved for an operational manned satellite program had been removed from 

the open forum by their assignment to the Joint NASA-ARPA Manned Satellit

Panel. When Glennan proclaimed that the demise of NACA and the birth o

NASA would take effect at the close of business on September 30, 1958, there wa

reason to suppose that a preliminary organization of the nation's space program 

was well in hand. But in Washington there was no clear commitment to th

precise size or priority of the manned program within NASA, because NASA 

itself was as yet only a congeries of transferred people, facilities, and projects.

Earlier attempts to coordinate interservice and interagency plans and pro

cedures for putting a man in space had been ineffectual. During the middle o

September, Glennan and Roy W. Johnson, Director of Advanced Research Proj

ects Agency (ARPA), had come to agree on the bare outline of a joint program 

for a manned orbital vehicle based on the ballistic capsule idea. A month earlier

Hugh L. Dryden, the veteran Director of the N ACA, and Robert R. Gilruth

Assistant Director of Langley Aeronautical Research Laboratory, had informe

Congressional committees of their plans for a manned capsule and had requeste

$30 million to proceed with the work. But only when the Joint Manned Satellit

Panel was established by executive agreement between NASA and ARPA in mid

September 1958 did plans and proposals begin to jell into a positive course o

action.3 

Of the eight members of this steering committee, only two were from ARPA

Six had come from N ACA and were the principal policy makers who laid dow

the guidelines and objectives for the first manned space flight program. Thi

group began to meet almost continuously in late September in an effort to estab

lish preliminary plans and schedules for the manned satellite project. Thousand

of scientists and engineers over past years made possible their outline repor

entitled "Objectives and Basic Plan for the Manned Satellite Project." Bu

technical liaison between military and civilian groups on the immediate workin

levels provided the specific data for the outline drawn up by this panel: I 

110 
p

II. MISSION 

To accomplish these objectives, the most reliable available boost system will 

be used. A nearly circular orbit will be established at an altitude sufficiently 

high to permit a 24-hour satellite lifetime; however, the number of orbital 

cycles is arbitrary. Descent from orbit will be initiated by the application of 

retro-thrust. Parachutes will be deployed after the vehicle has been slowed 

down by aerodynamic drag, and recovery on land or water will be possible. 

III. CONFIGURATION 

A. Vehicle 

The vehicle will be a ballistic capsule with high aerodynamic drag. It 

should be statically stable over the mach number range corresponding to flight 

within the atmosphere. Structurally, the capsule will be designed to withstand any combination of acceleration, heat loads, and aerodynamic forces that 

might occur during boost and reentry of successful or aborted missions. 

The document outlined generally the life support, attitude control, retrograde, 

recovery, and emergency systems and described the guidance and tracking, instrumentation, communications, ground support, and test program requirements. 

In only two and one-half pages of typescript, the "Objectives and Basic Plan" 

for the manned satellite were laid out for the concurrence of the Director of ARPA 

and the Administrator of NASA during the first week of October 1958. Verbal 

elucidations of accompanying charts, tables, and diagrams, plus scale models 

brought along from Langley Field, successfully sold' this approach for putting 

man into orbit. Although the Air Force, Army, and Navy, as well as numerous 

aviation industry research teams, also had plans that might have worked equally 

well, the Nati'Jn could afford only one such program. The simplest, quickest, least 

risky, and most promising plan seemed to be this one.:; 

The fact that the Joint Manned Satellite Panel was "loaded" six to two in 

favor of NASA reflected the White House decision that ARPA would assist NASA 

rather than c:omanage the project. The plans of the panel gave the appearance 

of unanimity among aeronautical engineers on how to accomplish manned orbital 

flight. Keith Glennan and Roy Johnson were impressed by this consensus but 

they refrained from making public their commitments for several more months. 

The tacit agreement among the panel members that no basic technical or scientific 

problems remained to be solved before moving into development and flight test 

would be tested by industrial response to the basic plan. If previous research had 

been sufficiently thorough to allow NASA to begin immediately applying engineering knowledge for the achievement of orbital flight, then the panel's judgment of 

111 
ment tests should verify the components of the manned satellite vehicle to the 

point where they consistently and reliably perform satisfactorily, and provide 

design criteria by measuring loads, heating, and aerodynamic stability derivative

during critical portions of the flight." Second, qualification flight tests should 

determine suitability of the complete vehicle to perform its specified missions

Third, training and pilot performance flight tests should validate man's "potentia

for the specified missions." 

In this program, all three types of tests will be made with full-scale articles. 

These tests will be initiated at low velocities, altitudes and loads. They will 

progress with a buildup in severity of these conditions until the maximum mission is reached. In general, development tests will be completed, followed by 

qualification tests, and pilot performance and training tests. However, there 

will be some overlap as the severity of conditions are built up in the flight test 

program. The number and type of pilot performance and training flights will 

be determined as the program develops.7 

Although the conceptual design and the operating philosophy for the manned 

satellite program were remarkably firm at the time of authorization, specifi

technical difficulties in development could not be pinpointed in advance. Th

people who would have to solve them were only then being identified and appointed 

to their individual jobs. At NACA Headquarters in Washington, Hugh Dryden 

had presided during the summer over the metamorphosis of NACA into NASA

An established scientist and a proven technical executive, Dryden had been 

logical choice if not for the Administrator, then for Deputy Administrator, th

second highest position within the space agency. He must decide how many and 

who should move to Washington to manage the administrative side and to overse

the engineering work. What proportion of effort and funds should NASA spen

on developing manned, as opposed to unmanned, spacecraft and rockets? O

whom should the immediate responsibility for technical direction of the manne

satellite program be put? Where should the locus for ground control of manne

space flight operations be placed? 

THE PEOPLE IN CHARGE 

Glennan and Dryden decided many questions of appointment quite naturall

by allowing informal working arrangements to become formal. Glennan's fe

low Clevelander, Abe Silverstein, Associate Director of NACA's Lewis Flight Pro

pulsion Laboratory, was appointed Director of Space Flight Development. Si

verstein had been the technical director of research at Lewis since 1949 and ha

worked closely with Dryden since March and with Glennan since August in plan

112 
g 

program, which then was a minor portion of Silverstein's responsibility compared 

with his concerns over propulsion development. Newell D. Sanders became 

Silverstein's Assistant Director for Advanced Technology. But the primary relations between Washington and the field activities for manned space flight development were to be handled by George M. Low, who eventually became chief 

of an Office of Manned Space Flight, and Warren J. North, a fonner NACA test 

pilot who at first headed an Office of Manned Satellites, then of Space Flight Programs. Dryden and Glennan depended heavily upon Silverstein and his aides 

for the technical review and supervision of the division of labor among the various 

NASA field centers. But the locus of manned space flight preparations remained 

with the small group of Langley and Lewis personnel under Gilruth, the group 

that had zealously researched, planned, and designed what was to become Project 

Mercury. 

Dryden desired to conserve the character of the three primary NACA centers 

as national laboratories specializing as necessary in applied and advanced research 

for aeronautics and astronautics. Glennan agreed to assign the large new development and operational programs to distinct, or at least reorganized, groups of 

people. The directors of the Langley, Ames, and Lewis Research Centers should 

continue their aeronautical and missile work with a minimum of disturbance while 

expanding the proportion of their research devoted to space. NASA Headquarters personnel, temporarily located in the Dolley Madison House, across Lafayette 

Square from the White House, should be able to coordinate agency-wide activities without too much interference in the high degree of local autonomy at the 

research laboratories near airfields in Virginia, California, and Ohio. 

With the birth of NASA all the former NACA laboratories had their names 

changed. Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory, from 1920 until 1940 

the first and only research lab for NACA, became on October 1,1958, the Langley 

Research Center. Located on the Virginia peninsula, across Hampton Roads 

from Norfolk, the Langley laboratories flanked one side of old Langley Field, one 

of the pioneer U.S. military airfields; for 10 years now the Air Force had called 

it the Langley Air Force Base. NASA's 700 acres there contained buildings and 

hangars more permanent and other structures more unusual than were normally 

found at military airfields. On opposite edges of the runways, about 3000 civilians 

in 1958 worked at facilities worth more than $150 million. About 700 of these 

people were professional engineers and self-made scientists whose major tools 

were 30 different wind tunnels. Also they had experimental models, operating 

aircraft, shops, and laboratories for chemistry, physics, electronics, and 

hydrodynamics.!) 

As a national aeronautical laboratory Langley supported little if any "pure" 

113 
Now that the sky was to be redefined in terms of aerospace, mans mastery 

of dimensions at least five times higher than he had ever flown required radically 

new social as well as technological inventions. Silverstein was asked by Dryden 

to help Gilruth create an entirely new management organization, composed primarily of Langley personnel, without disrupting other work in progress. The 

Director of Langley Research Center, Henry J. E. Reid, was on the verge of retirement, and responsibility for administering Langley had devolved to Floyd L. 

Thompson. Neither Reid nor Thompson was close enough to the manned satellite working level, where events were moving so rapidly, to assume charge of the 

special organization taking shape there. 

The project director of the manned satellite program should therefore be the 

man who had already directed it through its gestation period-Robert R. Gilruth. 

As Assistant Director of Langley and the former chief of the Pilotless Aircraft 

Research Division (PARD), he had long nurtured Maxime A. Faget and his associates, the conceptual designers of the NACA manned satellite. After the consolidation of professional consensus at Langley behind the Faget plan in March 

1958, Dryden and his Washington associates Ira H. Abbott and John W. Crowley, 

Jr., had given Gilruth authority to get underway.l1 

Gilruth had come to Langley after earning his master's degree in aeronautical 

engineering at the University of Minnesota under Professor Jean Piccard in 1936. 

He had been a leader in research during the development of transonic and supersonic aircraft, becoming the man in charge of structures, dynamic loads, and 

pilotless aircraft studies at Langely in 1952. During the decade of guided missile 

development, Gilruth had served on some six scientific advisory committees for 

the military services and for NACA. His eminence was widely recognized beth 

as a scientist-engineer and as a research administrator. Furthermore, he was 

eager to continue his leadership of the vigorous group of younger engineers working with Faget.12 

As soon as Gilruth and Faget returned with Glennan's verbal approval "to 

implement the manned satellite project," Thompson, acting director of Langley, 

began making arrangements to establish in separate facilities at the Unitary Wind 

Tunnel Building the self-appointed group already working on space flight. 

Charles J. Donlan, Technical Assistant to the Director of Langley, was asked to 

serve as Assistant Project Manager. Under Gilruth and Donlan, 33 Langley 

personnel, 25 of these engineers (14 of them from PARD), were officially transferred on November 5, 1958, to form the nucleus of a separate organization to 

be called the Space Task Group.13 

Although the new Task Group was responsible directly to Washington, its 

initial composition and actions were left largely to local initiative. The Langley 

114 
Research Center when Silverstein in July had directed them to commute to Langley 

to aid in working out detailed designs for structure, thermal protection, and instrumentation in the program. This informal Langley-Lewis working arrangement gradually integrated and expanded as the Space Task Group took shape 

through the following year.14 

Gilruth's authorization gave him two hats: one as project manager of the 

Space Task Group, and the other-announced May 1, 1959-as assistant director 

of a new NASA "~pace projects center" to be located near Greenbelt, Maryland) 

about 15 miles northeast of the Nation's capital. In Washington, Dryden and 

Silverstein were making plans for this space development facility to accommodate 

the NASA inheritance of Project Vanguard and about 150 of its personnel, transferred from the Naval Research Laboratory. Such a facility might easily double 

as an operations control center. At this time the scientific and operational aspects 

of manned satellites appeared to complement the tracking network and instrumentation for the Vanguard satellites. So as soon as the building could be constructed on an agricultural experimental farm at Beltsville, Maryland, the Space 

Task Group would move there. In the interim Langley would continue to 

furnish lodging and logistic support while a space flight operations center was 

being built. All this was to change about two years later when it became apparent 

that the scope, size, and support for manned space endeavors called for an entirely 

separate center .15 

Everyone connected with the Space Task Group in the first several months 

of its existence was too busy preparing and mailing specifications, briefing prospective contractors, and evaluating contractor proposals to take much interest in 

organization charts. A kind of executive committee, forming around Gilruth 

and Donlan during November and December, gradually organized itself along 

functional lines. Gilruth and Donlan, Faget and Paul E. Purser, Charles W. 

Mathews, and Charles H. Zimmerman formed the core of this first executive 

council. Other senior NACA engineers on the original STG personnel list, men 

like Aleck C. Bond, Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., Howard C. Kyle, George F. MacDougall, Jr., and Harry H. Ricker, Jr., also played important roles in the initial 

formulation of the technological plan of attack. 

Of the 35 members of the original group from Langley, only eight provided 

administrative or clerical services. Thus, with the 10 additional people from the 

Lewis laboratory, Gilruth and Donlan had 35 scientist-engineers to assign to 

specific technical problems. Those 14 who came directly from PARD continued 

working on implementing their designs, as they had been doing for almost a 

year. Five men came from the Flight Research Division of Langley, two came 

from the Instrument Research Division, two from the Stability Research Division, 

and one each from the Dynamic Loads and Full-Scale Tunnel Research Divisions. 

115 
was not yet quite respectable.I6 

From Glennan's approval of the project until the formal establishment of 

the Space Task Group on November 5, and indeed for some months later, it 

was by no means certain how much support and what priority the manned 

satellite program might receive. Some N ACA careerists were hesitant to join 

an operation that might easily prove abortive. So far Gilruth had no specified 

billets to fill nor any public, formal mandate from Headquarters. He and 

Silverstein worked together very closely through the shuttle service of George 

Low on Silverstein's staff, who divided his time between Washington and STG. 

The hectic early days, cluttered and confused, made the future of the Task Group 

appear less than certain. Although NASA Headquarters had received from 

ARPA and allocated to Langley the necessary funds to get started, NASA seemed 

to prefer the science programs it had inherited along with instrumented satellites. 

The Space Task Group wanted full and explicit support of the development 

engineering necessary for a manned satellite. But the members did not let lack 

of documented clarity from the policy level dampen their enthusiasm or activity. 

Throughout October, trips and conferences by key personnel verified at the working level and in the field what could and could not be done to implement policy 

planning in Washington. To many of the younger engineers under Gilruth, 

NASA's initial organizational confusion offered opportunity . for initiative at the 

local level to accomplish more than directives from Headquarters in getting an 

American into orbit. 17 

In order to avoid the danger of converting the Langley Research Center into 

Langley "Research and Development" Center, Dryden insisted that the Space 

Task group should be separated from the mother institution and attached to the 

Beltsville Center. Some Langley engineers welcomed the opportunity to participate in a full-fledged development program; others, more research-oriented, 

abhorred the idea. In managing the Space Task Group, Gilruth had to reconcile 

these attitudes, to recruit talent and screen zeal, and to create an organization 

capable of developing into hardware what had been conceived in research. 

"AEROSPACE" TECHNOLOGY 

One of the scientific questions of the International Geophysical Year that had 

to be answered before the orbital mechanics of a manned satellite could be specified 

in detail was: where precisely does Earth's atmosphere end? By late 1958 the 

aeromedical fraternity, following Hubertus Strughold's lead, had accepted the 

conceptual outlines of "space-equivalent altitudes," with refined definitions of the 

"aeropause," as a general biological guide to answer a slightly different question: 

116 
gg

ppg

man should first orbit Earth. 18 

The NASAlARPA mission specification of a circular orbit to be achieved by 

"the most reliable available boost system . . . at an altitude sufficiently high to 

permit a 24-hour satellite lifetime" (before the natural decay, or degradation~ of 

the original orbit because of slight but effective upper-atmospheric friction) had 

carefully avoided a commitment to either a booster or an orbital altitude. The 

Space Task Group proceeded on the assumption that both apogee and perigee of 

the manned ballistic satellite should be within the rough limits of 100±25 miles 

high. The Task Group chose 100 statute miles (87 nautical miles) as the nominal 

average altitude to ensure a full-Earth-day lifetime for the one-ton manned 

moonlet. 

The outer limits of Earth's atmosphere, where it blends in equilibrium with 

the solar atmosphere or plasma, seemed around 2000 miles, and the "edge" of the 

outer ionospheric shell was thought to be perhaps 4000 miles above sea level, but 

these were irrelevant parameters for orbit selections. ICBM performance data 

at that time made it certain that the "most reliable available boost system" could 

not boost a 2200-pound ballistic capsule even to the 400-or-so-mile "floor" of the 

Van Allen belt.19 

The Atlas I CBM was still "the most reliable available boost system"; there 

was as yet no viable alternative booster. All preliminary hardware planning had 

been based on the assumption that the Atlas would prove its power and prowess 

very soon. The NACA nucleus of NASA was composed for the most part of 

aeronautical engineers, airplane men not yet expert with missiles and rockets. 

Few of them at first fully realized how different were the flight regimes and requirements for the technology of flight without wings. 

Since W orId War II winged guided missiles or pilotless drone airplanes had 

given way to rocket-propelled ballistic projectiles; by 1958 the industrial base and 

engineering competence for missilery had matured separately from and tangentially 

to the aviation industry.20 If the manned satellite program were to become the 

first step for sustained manned space flight, a new synthesis between science and 

engineering and a new integration between the aircraft and missile industries would 

be necessary. "Space science" and "aerospace technology," tenns already made 

popular by the Air Force, were now in the public domain, but their meanings were 

vague and ambiguous so long as they held so little operational content. Silverstein, Crowley, and Albert F. Siepert, the men who became the first executive 

directors of the top three "line offices" of NASA Headquarters, indubitably had 

their debates on programming operations for NASA and the Nation. But on the 

need for new syntheses and reintegrations of established disciplines and industries 

there could be no debate. NASA's legal mandate to coordinate and to contract 

117 
ppy pgg

impinge on NASA policy. It affected project planners as soon as they set forth 

their intention to put a man into orbit. Industrial and military investments in 

feasibility studies to this same goal had been heavy. The Space Task Group 

decided in mid-October to withdraw from all contacts with industrial contractors 

while finishing its preliminary specifications for the manned satellite capsule. STG 

thus avoided any accusations of favoritism, but lost about two months in time 

before it was able to acquire the latest classified and proprietary studies and designs 

by other organizations. 

Three most pertinent examples of industrial research going on concurrently 

with government research and leading up to seminal proposals for manned satellite specifications were those studies being conducted by the Convair/Astronautics 

Division (CV/ A) of the General Dynamics Corporation in con junction with the 

Avco Manufacturing Corporation, studies by the General Electric Company in 

conjunction with North American Aviation, Inc., and those by McDonnell Aircraft Corporation. The CV/ A-Avco proposal to the Air Force in April 1958 for 

a spherical drag-braked manned satellite was followed by more reports by CV/ A 

in June and November, and these proved that the builders of the Atlas were exploring every avenue for civilian uses of their booster rocket. Convair men like 

Karel J. Bossart, Mortimer Rosenbaum, Charles S. Ames, Frank J. Dore, Hans R. 

Friedrich, Byron G. MacNabb, F. A. Ford, Krafft A. Ehricke, and H. B. Steele 

had a continuing interest in seeing their fledgling weapons carrier converted into 

a launch vehicle for manned space flight, either with or without an upper stage. 

At NASA Headquarters, Abe Silverstein decided early in November to formalize 

his earlier approval of Faget's plan for the "bare Atlas." On that basis a formal 

bidders' briefing for the capsule contract was planned for November 7. Only 

after mid-December, when all the proposals were in, did STG learn how great had 

been other industrial investments in research for a manned ballistic satellite. 22 

Although the Atlas airframe, design, and systems integration had all grown 

directly out of Convair engineering development, the liquid-fueled rocket engines 

for the Atlas, as well as for the Redstone, Jupiter, and Thor missiles, were all 

products of the Rocketdyne Division of North American Aviation, Inc. Hence 

North American, when teamed with anotper corporate giant, General Electric, 

appeared also to be a prime contender for the manned satellite contract. The 

Space Task Group was only dimly aware at this time of the specifications that 

had emerged from North American and General Electric as proposals for the Air 

Force's "Man-in-Space-Soonest" studies, but it did know at least that its own 

ballistic capsule plan was at variance with the "high lift over drag" thinking at 

North American. 23 

118 
speculative timetable for astronautics that placed the achievement of the first 

manned Earth satellite, weighing four tons and costing one billion dollars, between 

the years 1990 and 2005 A.D. One year later, in a similar address, McDonnell 

sagaciously abandoned his timetable and said: 

I think it is fortunate that the Soviets have boldly challenged us in [space science 

and exploration] . . .. Their space challenge is a fair challenge. We should 

accept this challenge and help to turn it primarily into peaceful channels. 

* * * So, fellow pilgrims, welcome to the wondrous age of astronautics. May serendipity be yours in the years to come as man stands on the earth as a footstool 

and reaches out to the moon, the planets, and the stars.2"! 

Off and on since Sputnik II, ~1cDonnell Aircraft Corporation's Advanced 

Planning Group had assigned first 20, then 40, and, from April through June 

1958, some 70 men to work on preliminary designs for a manned satellite capsule. 

Led by Raymond A. Pepping, Lawrence M. Weeks, John F. Yardley, and Albert 

Utsch, these men had completed a thoroughgoing prospectus 427 pages in length 

by mid-October 1958. People at Langley had been aware of this work in some 

detail, but when NACA and PARD became part of NASA, a curtain of discretion 

fell between them and STG. The McDonnell proposal was repolished during 

November before it took its turn and its chances with all the rest of the bidders.2[j 

While interested aerospace companies were endeavoring to fulfill the Government's plans and specifications for a manned satellite, a number of men in 

the institutional setting at Langley were busily engaged in final preparations for 

the bidders' conference. Craftsmen like Z. B. Truitt and Scott Curran, in the 

Langley shops, fabricated new models of both the couch and the capsule for 

demonstration purposes. Engineering designers like Caldwell C. Johnson and 

Russell E. Clickner, Jr., reworked multiple sets of mechanical drawings until 

Faget and the Task Group were satisfied that they had the architectonic engineering briefing materials ready for their prospective spacecraft manufacturing contractors. Gilruth, Donlan, Mathews, and Zimmerman meanwhile approved the 

block diagrams of systems as they evolved. They looked over their requirements 

for outside support in future launching operations, flight operations, trouble-shooting research, and crew selection and training. With everything going on at 

once among half a hundred men at most, there was no time now in STG for 

second thoughts or doubts about whether the "Faget concept" would work. 26 

Questions of policy and personnel at the time of the organization of NASA 

and during the birth of this nation's manned space flight program were affected 

significantly by a conflict then existing between the experts on men and the experts 

on missiles. In the eyes of the Space Task Group, the medical fraternity, particularly some Air Force physicians, was exceedingly cautious, whereas the Space 

119 
PARD group had been resolved in favor of the latter. Air Force planners of 

the Air Research and Development Command early had accepted a basic ground 

rule specifying 12 g as the design limit for capsule reentry loads. They had 

opposed the so-called "bare Atlas" approach, which would carry the risk of imposing accelerations up to 20 g in case of a mid-launch abort. As a last resort 

they too had turned to the standard Atlas as the most feasible launch vehicle~ even 

though, Faget believed, Air Force aeromedical experts had not accepted the 

significance of the physiological demonstrations by Carter C. Collins and R. 

Flanagan Gray on the Navy's centrifuge at Johnsville in July that man could 

sustain 20 g without lasting harmful effects. In calculating the risks in manned 

space flight, the group at Langley saw this event as having paramount 

importance. 27 

To ensure that NASA would have intelligent liaison and some expertise of 

its own in dealing with military aeromedical organizations, one of the early 

official actions of the NASA Administrator was the appointment on November 21 

of a Special Committee on Life Sciences, headed by W. Randolph Lovelace II. 

This committee, composed of members from the Air Force, Army, Navy, Atomic 

Energy Commission, Department of Health, Education, and Welfare, and private 

life, should provide "objective" advice on the role of the human pilot and all 

considerations involving him. However, NASA and particularly STG would 

soon discover certain difficulties with this, as with other, review committees 

"having a certain amount of authority . . . yet no real responsibility" for seeing 

that the program worked properly.28 

On a similar but lower plane, Gilruth asked for and received from the 

military services three professional consultants for an aeromedical staff. Lieutenant Colonel Stanley C. White from the Air Force and Captain William S. 

Augerson from the Army were physicians with considerable experience in aerospace medicine, and Lieutenant Robert B. Voas from the Navy held a Ph. D. in 

psychology. Thus both NASA and STG ensured the autonomy of their medical 

advice while at the same time they tapped, through White, the biomedical knowledge gained by the Air Force in its "Man-in-Space-Soonest" studies and, through 

Augerson, that gained by the Army and Navy through joint biosatellite planning.29 

CALLING FOR A CAPSULE CONTRACTOR 

The Space Task Group was ready by October 20, 1958, to initiate the formal 

quest for the best builder of a spacecraft. Silverstein, Gilruth, Donlan, Faget, 

Mathews, and Zimmerman had decided what they wanted; now the toppriority need was to decide which contractor would be most competent to con120 
Langley procurement office to more than 40 prospective firms on October 23, 

1958. Thirty-eight of these companies responded by sending representatives to 

the bidders' conference at Langley Field on November 7. The briefing was 

conducted by Faget, Alan Kehlet, Aleck Bond, Andre Meyer, Jack Heberlig, and 

several others from STG and Langley. The verbal exchange of ideas at this 

meeting was preliminary to corporate expressions of interest expected by STG 

before mid-November. After that the Task Group would mail out formal specifications as the basis for bid proposals to be submitted before December 11, 1958. 

After his part of the briefing, Faget was asked by one of the representatives whether 

the retrorockets described could also be used for escape. Faget said no and explained why not. He then made it clear that any alternative capsule configurations would be considered "provided that you incorporate the retrorocket principle, the non-lifting principle, and the non-ablating heat sink principle." 30 

Nineteen of the companies present expressed interest in the competition; they 

were mailed copies of STG's 50-page "Specifications for Manned Space Capsule" 

on November 14, 1958. This document, officially numbered "S-6," formally 

described STG's expectations of the missions, configurations, stabilization and 

control, structural design, onboard equipment, instrumentation, and testing for 

manned orbital flight, but significantly it did not deal in detail with reliability, 

costs, or schedules for flight testing. 31 

By December 11, the deadline for bid proposals, the list of original competitors had narrowed to 11; there was a late starter in Winzen Research, Inc., 

whose proposal was incomplete. All but three of these manufacturers had been 

engaged for at least a year with feasibility studies related to the Air Force plans 

for a manned satellite. Of the 11, the eight corporations with deepest investments 

were Avco, Convair/Astronautics, Lockheed, Martin, McDonnell, North American, Northrop, and Republic. The three other bidders were the Douglas, 

Grumman, and Chance-Vought aircraft companies. Significantly perhaps, certain 

other major missile and aircraft companies, like Bell, Boeing, and United Aircraft, 

were not represented. Bell was preoccupied with the Dyna-Soar studies; Boeing 

also was working on Dyna-Soar and had obtained the prime contract for the 

Minuteman missile system; and United Aircraft sent its regrets to Reid that it was 

otherwise deeply committed.32 Other military research and development contracts, 

such as those for the XB-70 "Valkyrie" and XF-I08 were also competing for the 

attention of the aerospace industry. 

The Space Task Group and NASA Headquarters meanwhile had worked 

out the procedures for technical assessment of these manufacturers' proposals and 

for contractual evaluations and negotiations. At Langley, a Technical Assessment 

Committee headed by Donlan was to appoint 11 component assessment teams to 

rate the contending companies in each of 11 technical areas. The classification 

121 
escape system; retrograde and landing system; attitude control systems; environmental systems; pilot support and restraint system; pilot displays and navigational 

aids; communications systems; instrumentation sensors, recorders, and telemeters; 

and power supplies. Each area was rated on a five-point scale ranging from 

excellent to unsatisfactory; the scores from these ratings were averaged to provide 

an overall technical order of preference. 

All this had to be done over the Christmas holidays and while the Task Group 

was moving from the Unitary 'Vind Tunnel building on the west side of Langley 

Air Force Base to new quarters in an old NACA building on the east side. Early 

in January at NASA Headquarters a similar assessment team would gather to 

evaluate the competitors on their competence in management and cost accountability. MacDougall was to be the only Task Group representative on the "business 

evaluation" committee. Finally, a Source Selection Board, chaired by Silverstein 

at NASA Headquarters and including Zimmerman from STG, would review the 

grading, approve it, and make its final recommendation for the choice of the 

spacecraf t con tractor. 33 

Although virtually everyone in the Task Group participated in the process of 

selecting the capsule builder, there were other equally pressing tasks to be accomplished as soon as possible. Procurement of booster rockets, the detailed design 

and development of a smaller, cheaper test booster, and the problem of finding 

the best volunteers to man the finished product-these were seen as the major 

problems requiring a head start in the fall of 1958. 

SHOPPING FOR THE BOOSTERS 

Booster procurement was perhaps the most critical, if not the highest priority 

task to be initiated. Once the Hobson's choice had been made to gear a manned 

satellite project to the unproven design capabilities of the Atlas ICBM, the corollary 

decision to use the most reliable of the older generation of ballistic missiles for 

testing purposes followed ineluctably. 'Vhile the intercontinental-range Atlas was 

still being flight-tested, the medium-range Redstone was the only trustworthy 

booster rocket in the American arsenal. For suborbital tests, the intermediaterange Jupiter and Thor bosters were possible launch vehicles, but as yet they were 

neither capable of achieving orbital velocities nor operationally reliable. 3 

-1 

Even while the Joint Manned Satellite Panel was briefing the administrators 

of ARPA and NASA during the first week in October, Purser, Faget, North, and 

Samuel Batdorf flew to Huntsville for a business conference with the Army Ballistic 

Missile Agency regarding procurement of launch vehicles. 'Vernher von Braun's 

people assured their NASA visitors that Redstone missiles could be made available 

122 
g 

g, 

adaptability of each weapon system as a launch vehicle for a manned capsule was 

now evidently required. The so-called "old reliable" Redstones might have been 

ordered right away. But the question of the need for intermediate qualification 

and training flights along ballistic trajectories was not yet settled. 35 So more 

visitations to the Air Force and Army missile centers were arranged. 

STG's wager on the Atlas was formalized by an order to the Air Force, placed 

on December 8, 1958, for first one, then nine of these Convair-made liquidfueled rockets. The Air Force Ballistic Missile Division, heretofore the only 

customer for the Atlas, agreed to supply one Atlas, a C-model, within six months 

and the rest, all standard D-models, as needed over a period of several years. 

Faget was pleasantly surprised to know an Atlas-C could be furnished so soon. 

Having placed its first and primary order with the Air Force, the Space Task 

Group went on to decide a month later to buy eight Redstones and two Jupiter 

boosters from the Army Ordnance Missile Command. The decision to procure 

both medium- and intermediate-range boosters from the same source hinged 

largely on the fact that the Jupiter was basically an advanced Redstone. Both 

were Army-managed and developed and Chrysler-built. To adopt the Thor 

would have required another orientation and familiarization program for NASA 

engineers. 3

G 

Informed that the Atlas prime movers would cost approximately $2.5 million 

each and that even the Redstone would cost about $1 million per launching, the 

managers of the manned satellite project recognized from the start that the 

numerous early test flights would have to be accomplished by a far less expensive 

booster system. In fact, as early as January 1958 Faget and Purser had worked 

out in considerable detail on paper how to cluster four of the solid-fuel Sergeant 

rockets, in standard use by PARD at Wallops Island, to boost a manned nose 

cone above the stratosphere. Faget's short-lived "High Ride" proposal had 

suffered from comparisons with "Project Adam" at that time, but in August 

1958 William Bland and Ronald Kolenkiewicz had returned to their preliminary 

designs for a cheap cluster of solid rockets to boost full-scale and full-weight 

model capsules above the atmosphere. As drop tests of boilerplate capsules 

provided new aerodynamic data on the dynamic stability of the configuration 

in free-fall, the need for comparable data quickly on the powered phase became 

apparent. So in October a team of Bland, Kolenkiewicz, Caldwell Johnson, 

Clarence T. Brown, and F. E. Mershon prepared new engineering layouts and 

estimates for the mechanical design of the booster structure and a suitable 

launcher. 3 7 

As the blueprints for this cluster of four rockets began to emerge from their 

drawing boards, the designers' nickname for their project gradually was adopted. 

123 
gg 

pg ppp

the name Little Joe had acquired. 

The primary purpose of this relatively small and simple booster system was 

to save money-by allowing numerous test flights to qualify various solutions to 

the myriad problems associated with the development of manned space flight, 

especially the problem of escaping from an explosion midway through takeoff. 

Capsule aerodynamics under actual reentry conditions was another primary 

concern. To gain this kind of experience as soon as possible, its designers had 

to keep the clustered booster simple in concept; it should use solid fuel and existing proven equipment whenever possible, and should be free of any electronic 

guidance and control systems.38 

The designers made the Little Joe booster assembly to approximate the same 

performance that the Army's Redstone booster would have with the capsule 

payload. But in addition to being flexible enough to perform a variety of missions, Little Joe could be made for about one-fifth the basic cost of the Redstone, 

would have much lower operating costs, and could be developed and delivered 

with much less time and effort. And, unlike the larger launch vehicles, Little 

Joe could be shot from the existing facilities at Wallops Island. It still might 

even be used to carry a man some day. 

Twelve companies responded during November to the invitations for bids 

to construct the airframe of Little Joe. The technical evaluation of these proposals was carried on in much the same manner as for the spacecraft, except 

that Langley Research Center itself carried the bulk of the administrative load. 

H. H. Maxwell chaired the evaluation board, assisted by Roland D. English, 

Johnson, Mershon, and Bland of the Space Task Group. English later became 

Langley's Little Joe Project Engineer, Bland the STG Project Engineer, and 

Mershon the NASA representative at the airframe factory. The Missile Division of North American Aviation won the contract on December 29, 1958, and 

began work immediately at Downey, California, on its order for seven booster 

airframes and one mobile launcher.30 

The primary mission objectives for Little Joe as seen in late 1958 (in addition to studying the capsule dynamics at progressively higher altitudes) were 

to test the capsule escape system at maximum dynamic pressure, to qualify the 

parachute system, and to verify search and retrieval methods. But since each 

group of specialists at work on the project sought to acquire firm empirical data 

as soon as possible, more exact priorities had to be established. The first flights 

were to secure measurements of inflight and impact forces on the capsule; later 

flights were to measure critical parameters at the progressively higher altitudes 

124 
long as the measurements could be accomplished with minimum telemetry

Since all the capsules boosted by the Little Joe rockets were expected to be 

recovered, onboard recording techniques would also contribute to the simplicity 

of the system. 40 

Unique as the only booster system designed specifically and solely for manned 

capsule qualifications, Little Joe was also one of the pioneer operational launch 

vehicles using the rocket cluster principle. Since the four modified Sergeant

(called either Castor or Pollux rockets, depending upon modification) and fou

supplemental Recruit rockets were arranged to fire in various sequences, the 

takeoff thrust varied greatly, but maximum design thrust was almost 230,000 

pounds. Theoretically enough to lift a spacecraft of about 4000 pounds on a 

ballistic path over 100 miles high, the push of these clustered main engines should 

simulate the takeoff profile in the environment that the manned Atlas would 

experience. Furthermore, the additional powerful explosive pull of the tractor

rocket escape system could be demonstrated under the most severe takeoff condi

tions imaginable. The engineers who mothered Little Joe to maturity knew i

was not much to look at, but they fondly hoped that their ungainly bastard would 

prove the legitimacy of most of the ballistic capsule design concepts, thereby 

earning its own honor. 

Although Little Joe was designed to match the altitude-reaching capability 

of the Redstone booster system, and thus to validate the concepts for suborbita

ballistic flights, it could not begin to match the burnout speed at orbiting altitude 

given by the Atlas system. Valuable preliminary data on the especially critica

accelerations from aborts at intermediate speeds could be duplicated, but Little 

Joe could lift the capsule only to 100 miles, not put it at that altitude with a 

velocity approaching 18,000 miles per hour. For this task, a great deal more

some sort of Big Joe was needed. A Jupiter booster might simulate fairly closely 

the worst reentry heating conditions but ultimately only the Atlas itself could 

suffice. 

Therefore, paralleling the planning of the Little Joe project at Langley, 

counterpart test program was inaugurated by the Space Task Group with specia

assistance from the Lewis Research Center in Cleveland. Whereas Little Jo

was a test b~ster conceived for many different demonstration flight tests, "Big 

Joe" was the name for a single test flight with a single overriding objective-to 

learn at the earliest practicable date what would happen when the "steel-balloon

rocket called Atlas powered a ballistic capsule on exit from Earth's atmosphere

Specifically, an experiment matching the velocity, angle of entry, time, and 

attitude at altitude for reentry from Earth orbit needed to be performed as soon 

and as exactly as possible by a powered ballistic test flight so that designs fo

thermal protection might be verified or modified. The Space Task Group wa

125 
wa~, alleviated on No\ember 28, 1958, when an Atlas first flew its designed 

range-more than 6300 miles-down the Atlantic Missile Range toward Ascension Island. Three v\leeks later, on December 18, the Atlas scored again with a 

secretly prepared first launch into orbit of the entire Atlas vehicle (No. 1 O-B) 

as a communications relay satellite called "Project Score." Roy Johnson of 

ARPA claimed he was "sleeping more comfortably each night" after that. 41 In 

the midst of these demonstrations of the power of the prototype Atlas, NASA 

Headquarters and the Space Task Group planned to launch the first Atlas test 

for the space flight program in June or July 1959. 

Gilruth appointed Aleck Bond, the former head of the Structural Dynamics 

Section at Langley, to take the reins as project engineer for Big Joe. Bond began 

to coordinate, "vith a real sense of urgency, the work of Langley and Lewis 

on the prototype capsule and of the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division and 

Convair/ Astronautics on the Atlas propulsion system. Two Big Joe shots were 

arranged initially, but the second was to be merely insurance against the failure 

of the first. Although the Lewis laboratory traditionally had been most closely 

associated with propulsion problems and therefore was the logical center for 

NASA's first experience with large launch vehicles, neither Lewis direction nor 

Lewis propulsion experts were directly involved. NASA simply did not have 

time to learn the intricacies of launching the Atlas itself. Rather, Lewis contributed the expertise to design the electronic instrumentation and the automatic 

stabilization and control system for the boilerplate capsules being built jointly 

by the Lewis and Langley shops. 

Bond recalled the initial rationale for Big Joe, alias the Atlas ablation test: 

At the time that the Big Joe flight test program was conceived, only limited experimental flight test data existed on the behavior of materials and the 

dynamics of bodies reentering the earth's atmosphere at high speeds. These 

data, \vhich evolved from the ballistic missile program, \vere useful; ho\Vever~ 

they were not directly applicable to the manned satellite reentry case because 

of the vast differences in the reentry environment encountered and in the 

length of time the v'ehicles \\'ere subjected to the environment. There was 

considerable concern regarding the nature of the motions of a blunt body as it 

gradually penetrated the earth's atmosphere and began to decelerate. Of 

similar concern was the lack of after-body heating measurements and knowledge of integrity of ablation materials when exposed to the relatively 10\·v level, 

long duration heat pulse which is characteristic of the reentry of bodies with 

low ballistic parameters . , . entering the earth's atmosphere at shallow entry 

angles. 42 

Although for Big Joe the Task Group could center its attention on the capsule, 

whereas for Little Joe it had to develop the booster as well, the design and 

126 
cedures. Central among the primary objectives for Big Joe were the twin needs 

to determine the performance of the thermal protection materials and to learn 

the flight dynamics of the spacecraft during reentry. Many critical decisiDns for 

the project depended upon early, reliable data on the heatshield, the afterbody 

radiative shingling, and the dynamic stability of the "raindrop" configuration 

during the craft's trajectory back through the atmosphere. 43 

Also necessary were evaluations of the aerodynamic and thermodynamic loads 

on the capsule all along its flight path and of the operation of its automatic 

attitude control system. But certainly nothing was more important in the fall 

of 1958 than the need to settle the technical controversy over the heat sink versus 

ablation principles for the heatshield. Whether to use absorbing or vaporizing 

materials to shield the astronaut frDm reentry heating was one of the few major 

problems remaining to be solved when the manned satellite project was established

HEAT SINK VERSUS ABLATION 

Since t~1e peak heating rates for this blunt-body, high-drag configuration were 

expected to be one whole order of magnitude less than those experienced by 

ballistic missiles, no one competent to judge the issue now considered the "thermal 

barrier" problem insoluble. Rather, it had been proven to be no more than a 

"thermal thicket." Since the mid-fifties, various civilian and military experimental teams had studied the reentry prDblems for ballistic missile warheads, but 

only part of this research data was applicable to the different case of the spacecraft. Army and Vitro Corporation reentry experiments using ablation materials 

(such as graphite, teflon, nylon, or lucite) had already demonstrated that Jupiter 

nose cones worked quite well as ablators. But NACA preferred to rely on the 

successful prior experience of the Air Force with heat-sink metals, particularly 

copper, for early Thor nose cones. The results of these thermodynamic studies in 

materials science were contradictory, or at least inconclusive. So the manned 

satellite project began life officially in October without a commitment to either 

method of heat shielding, but with a definite preference for Faget's prejudice. H 

Gilruth, Faget, and other members of the Space Task Group since March 

1958 had been leaning toward the heat sink. A 600-pound metallic heat sponge 

might be a little heavier but it wDuld be more reliable than a ceramic heat dissipator, for the simple reason that there was more industrial experience with 

fabricating refractory metals than with molding and bonding ablation materials

Some official5 were convinced by the Navy's successful use of a lightweigh

beryllium heat sink on Polaris flight tests that beryllium was the answer. The 

heat sink method also was thought to have the considerable advantage over ablat

ing materials of creating less of a "plasma sheath"- the envelope of ionized ai

127 
yg

proposals. Until Big Joe could test the ablation technique, no final decision 

would be made. 45 

Ablation technology, imprecise by nature, was neither well understood nor 

very highly sophisticated as yet, whereas the metallography of heat sink materials 

was straightforward, and the thermodynamics of metals was deducible. Faget 

believed there would be no intrinsic weight penalty for using a metal shield; the 

difficulty of ditching a hot shield without danger had yet to be solved. There 

was no disposition to ignore ablation in favor of heat sink. Big Joe was conceived to resolve the problem. By late November, when Aleck Bond took charge 

of it, his presumption was that Big Joe would provide the definitive test of an 

ablation heatshield. 

Rocketry was not the only means considered for accomplishing high-altitude 

qualification tests at the beginning of the program. On their own initiative in 

the summer of 1958, Jerome Hammack, John B. Lee, Joe W. Dodson, and other 

Langley engineers had begun a modest program of parachute and stability trials 

by dropping boilerplate capsule models from C-130 transports provided by the 

Air Force. Balloon flights, however, seemed to promise even more effective and 

economical means of qualifying by "space-soaking" the complete capsule and its 

associated systems. From the Montgolfier brothers in the 1780s to David G. 

Simons' Manhigh ascents in 1957 and the contemporary Strato-Lab project of the 

Navy, ballooning had always been an attractive way to pierce the vertical 

dimension. 4G 

Believing that the environmental conditions at extreme altitude could be 

experienced more easily than they could be simulated in vacuum chambers on 

Earth, the Space Task Group proceeded with plans to launch balloons carrying 

ballistic capsules as gondolas. Tests of instrumentation, retrorockets, drogue and 

main parachute systems, and recovery procedures, plus pilot orientation and 

training, might be done within a year's time by lighter-than-air ascents. Contracts were let to the Weather Bureau, the Office of Naval Research, and the 

Air Force Cambridge Research Center for planning this flight support program. 4 7 

No sooner had these feasibility studies been started than the Space Task 

Group discovered how intricate, vast, and expensive had become stratospheric 

sounding technology in recent years. The popular craze over Unidentified Flying 

Objects during the fifties had been caused partly by atmospheric and cosmic-ray 

research with floating objects, enormous Mylar plastic gas bags drifting around at 

high altitudes. Preliminary balloon flights for the manned satellite project 

threatened to become much more expensive than had been originally anticipated. 48 

Contract planning, booster procurement, and the need for specialized help 

128 
gpp

p

STG needed in-house representatives in uniform. Efficient administration demanded liaison officers to serve as single points of contact between STG and 

each of the military services. So in December orders were cut for Lieutenan

Colonel Keith G. Lindell of the Air Force, Lieutenant Colonel Martin L. Raines 

of the Army, and Commander Paul L. Havenstein of the Navy to report to the 

Space Task Group for this function. 

In general, relations between NASA and the Department of Defense had 

proceeded quite amicably since the drafting of a "Memorandum of Understanding" in September by the Joint Manned Satellite Pane1. 49 However, with so 

much initiative being taken by the Space Task Group, there was danger tha

the concurrent actions of NASA Headquarters and STG might cause some frustrations and confusions in the Pentagon and among military contractors. NASA 

was still too young for its STG to be known. At this stage most of the planning 

for budgeting, procurement, tracking, and recovery operations had to be done in 

Washington; NASA Headquarters was carefully guarding its prerogative o

conducting interagency business. 50 Cooperation between Defense and NASA

and between STG and its own Headquarters, was good, if not idyllic, during the 

first 100 days. Nowhere was this more obvious than in astronaut selection. 

PROJECT ASTRONAUT? 

Preliminary procedures for pilot selection had been worked out by the 

aeromedical consultants attached to the Space Task Group at Langley during 

November. Their plan called for a meeting with representatives from industry 

and the services to nominate a pool of 150 men from which 36 candidates would 

be selected for physical and psychological testing. From this group 12 would be 

chosen to go through a nine-month training and qualification program, after 

which six finally would be expected to qualify.51 

On the basis of this plan, Donlan from Langley, and North in Washington

together with Allen O. Gamble, a psychologist on leave from the National Science 

Foundation, drafted civil service job specifications for individuals who wished to 

apply for the position of "Research Astronaut-Candidate." One of the early 

plans outlined very well the original expectations of NASA and STG on the type 

of man thought necessary. NASA Project A, announcement No.1, dated De

cember 22, 1958, was a draft invitation to apply for the civil service position o

research astronaut-candidate "with minimum starting salary range of $8,330 to 

$12,770 (GS-12 to GS-15) depending upon qualifications." This documen

called the manned ballistic satellite program "Project Astronaut," and the first 

section described the duties of the astronaut: 

129 
operating the reaction controls, and of initiating the descent from orbit. He 

will contribute to the operation of the communications system. In addition, 

the astronaut will make research observations that cannot be made by instruments; these include physiological, astronomical and meteorological 

observations. 5~ 

Only males between 25 and 40 years of age, less than 5 feet 11 inches in 

height, and with at least bachelor's degrees were to be considered. Stringent 

professional experience or graduate study requirements specified five patterns of 

career histories most desirable. Candidates who had either three years of work 

in any of the physical, mathematical, biological, or psychological sciences, or 

who had three years of technical or engineering work in a research and development program or organization might apply. Or anyone with three years of 

operation of aircraft, balloons, or submarines, as commander, pilot, navigator, 

communications officer, engineer, or comparable technical position, would be 

eligible, as would persons who had completed all requirements for the Ph.D. 

degree in any appropriate field of science or engineering plus six months of 

professional work. In the case of medical doctors, six months of clinical or 

research work beyond the license and internship or residency would be required. 

Furthermore, the job qualifications required proof that applicants had demonstrated recently their "( a) willingness to accept hazards comparable to those 

encountered in modern research airplane flight; (b) capacity to tolerate rigorous 

and severe environmental conditions; and (c) ability to react adequately under 

conditions of stress or emergency." The announcement added: 

These three characteristics may have been demonstrated in connection with 

certain professional occupations such as test pilot, crew member of experimental submarine or arctic or antarctic explorer. Or they may have been 

demonstrated during wartime combat or military training. Parachute jumping 

or mountain climbing or deep sea diving (including SCUBA) whether as occupation or sport, may have provided opportunities for demonstrating these 

characteristics, depending upon heights or depths obtained, frequency and 

duration, temperature and other environment conditions, and emergency episodes encountered. Or they may have been demonstrated by experience as an 

observer-under-test for extremes of environmental conditions such as acceleration, high or low atmospheric pressure, variation in carbon dioxide and oxygen 

concentration, high and low ambient temperatures, etc. Many other examples 

could be given. It is possible that the different characteristics may have been 

demonstrated by separate types of experience. 

Finally, as a last check on ruling out the "lunatics" who might send in crank 

applications, this proposed plan for astronaut selection required that each applicant have the sponsorship of a responsible organization. A nomination form 

130 
to ensure an exceptionally high quality applicant, but the plan itself was not 

approved and had to be abandoned. President Eisenhower during the 1958 

Christmas holidays decided that the pool of military test pilots already in existence 

was quite sufficient a source from which to draw. Since certain classified aspects 

would inevitably be involved, military test pilots could most conveniently satisfy 

securi ty considerations. 53 

Although some in NASA regretted the incongruity of allowing volunteers for 

the civilian manned space program to be drawn only from the military, the decision 

that the services would provide the candidates greatly simplified pilot selection 

procedures. A meeting held at NASA Headquarters during the first week of 

January brought together W. Randolph Lovelace II, Brigadier General Don D. 

Flickinger, Low, North, Gilruth, and several other members of the Space Task 

Group. There the elaborate civil service criteria for selection were boiled down 

to a seven-item fonnula : 

1. Age-less than 40. 

2. Height-less than 5 feet, 11 inches. 

3. Excellent physical condition. 

4. Bachelor's degree or equivalent. 

5. Graduate of test pilot school. 

6. 1500 hours total flying time. 

7. Qualified jet pilot. 

When these criteria were given to the Pentagon, service record checks revealed 

more than 100 men on active duty who appeared to be qualified. The military 

services were pleased to cooperate in further screening. NASA was relieved not 

to have to issue an open invitation, and STG was pleased to have Headquarters' 

aid in the selection. 54 

Contrary to the feeling expressed in some quarters, even among experimental 

test pilots, that the ballistic capsule pilot would be little more than "spam in a 

can," most members of STG believed from the beginning that their pilots would 

have to do some piloting. As George Low explained their views to Administrator 

Glennan, "These criteria were established because of the strong feeling that the 

success of the mission may well depend upon the actions of the pilot; either in his 

performance of primary functions or backup functions. A qualified jet test pilot 

appeared to be best suited for this task." 5 3. Exactly how much "piloting," in the 

traditional sense, man could do in orbit was precisely the point in issue. 

The least technical task facing NASA and its Space Task Group in the fall 

of 1958 was choosing a name or short title for the manned satellite project. 

Customarily project names for aircraft and missiles were an administrative convenience best chosen early so as to guarantee general usage by contractors, press, 

131 
of the globe circled by three orbits. These proposals, as well as the name suggested 

by Spac~ Task Group for the manned satellite project, lost out to symbols considered more appropriate in Washington. "Project Astronaut," preferred at first 

by Gilruth to emphasize the man in the satellite, was overruled largely because it 

might lead to overemphasis on the personality of the man.:JG 

Silverstein advocated a systemic name with allegorical overtones and neutral 

underpinnings: The Olympian messenger Mercury, denatured by chemistry, advertising, an automobile, and Christianity, was the most familiar of the gods in the 

Greek pantheon to Americans. Mercury, alias Hermes, the son of Zeus and 

grandson of Atlas, with his winged sandals and helmet and caduceus, was too 

rich in symbolic associations to be denied. The esteemed Theodore von Karman 

had chosen to speak of Mercury, as had Lucian of Samosata, in terms of the 

"reentry" problem and the safe return of man to Earth. 57 

Had a mythologist been consulted, perhaps the additional associations of 

Mercury with masterful thievery, the patronage of traders, and the divinity of 

commerce would have proven too humorous. But "Mercury," Glennan and 

Dryden agreed on November 26, 1958, was the name most appropriate for the 

manned satellite enterprise. 58 

Greeks might worry about whether Mercury would function in his capacity as 

divine herald or as usher to the dead, but Americans, like the Romans, could be 

trusted not to worry. On Wright Brothers' Day, December 17, 1958, 55 years 

after ~he famous flights at Kitty Hawk, North Carolina, Glennan announced 

publicly in Washington that the manned satellite program would be called "Project 

Mercury." 59 

132 
 
WIT 
 .........................................................................................................................................................

From Design into Development 

(JANUARY-JUNE 1959) 

F ROM dreams into definitions and from design into development, the idea for 

manned satellite was growing toward fruition. During the first half of 1959

the Space Task Group (STG) guided the translation of its conceptual designs into 

detailed developmental plans for the molding of hardware. Creating an engi

neering program, planning precisely the flight missions, organizing men, money

and material to fulfill those missions, and establishing technical policy and mana·

gerial responsibility were the prime necessities of the moment. But this yea

began with the realization of a Russian "dream," M eehta. 

On January 2, 1959, the Soviets announced they had successfully launched 

a rocket toward the Moon, the final stage of which weighed 3245 pounds

including almost 800 pounds of payload instrumentation inside its spherical shell

The Soviet Meehta, also popularly called Lunik I, was the first man-made objec

to attain the 25,000-mile-per-hour speed needed to break away from Earth'

gravitational field. By comparison the United States Moon probe Pioneer III

launched by a four-stage Jupiter called Juno II on December 6, 1958, had 

weighed 13 pounds and attained a velocity of 24,000 miles per hour. And though 

it missed its target, Lunik I flashed past Earth's natural satellite to become the firs

successful "deep space" (i.e., translunar) probe and the first man-made artifac

to become a solar satellite.1 

While Meehta presumably went into solar orbit, and even while many incred

ulous Americans refused to accept this impressive claim, NASA mobilized for the 

national effort to catch up with the Soviets in propulsion and guidance, and in 

progress toward manned space flight. The project named Mercury embodied 

the latter half of those hopes. 

Robert R. Gilruth and his STG associates at Langley, together with Abe 

Silverstein and others in Washington, plunged knowingly into one of the greates

engineering adventures of all time. Somewhat self-conscious in the role of men 

of action setting out to do what had never been done before, they tried to match 

means to their ends without too much introspection and by avoiding useles

133 
alone can lead to efficiency they had to accept as an occupational hazard. Two 

of their ideals-to perform orbital flight safely and to perform it with economywere embodied in preliminary designs for Project Mercury long before those same 

ideals became obligations during the development of the program. Their third 

ideal-timeliness-gradually became crushed between performance and cost 

considerations. 

In the hectic three months of planning and procurement from September 

1958 to January 1959, the original "objectives and basic plan" for Project 

Mercury gradually clarified by abbreviation to an itemized list. Continued 

reiteration throughout preliminary development (January through June 1959) 

finally reduced the aims, attitudes, and means of the Space Task Group to a set 

of nominative formulas used again and again as "Slide No.1" in briefings: 

Objectives 

1. Orbital flight and recovery 

2. Man's capabilities in environment 

Basic Principles 

1. Simplest and most reliable approach 

2. Minimum of new developments 

3. Progressive build-up of tests 

Method 

1. Drag vehicle 

2. ICBM booster 

3. Retrorocket 

4. Parachute descent 

5. Escape system 

Reduced to this form by July 1959, the basic doctrine for Project Mercury 

remained essentially unchanged throughout the entire life of the program. Although the managers of Mercury found this a source of considerable pride, they 

were forced to make certain departures from their basic principles and to refine 

their methods continually.2 The techniques and technology for landing, for 

example, were not specified this early. The efforts to ensure a safe touchdown, 

on water instead of land, became a critical concern over a year later. 

BRICKBAT PRIORITY 

From the beginning STG had sought to obtain the Nation's highest priority for 

the manned satellite program. But the White House, Congress, and NASA 

Headquarters at first regarded as equally important the development of a "lOG," 

134 
November 14, 1958, to put the 

manned satellite and the one-million-pound-thrust 

engine" in the DOD Master Urgency List alongside the Minuteman and Polaris 

weapon systems. But the National Aeronautics and Space Council (NASC) had 

deferred this request on December 3, pending a scheduled meeting the next week 

of the Civilian-Mililary Liaison Committee (CMLC). The Space Council did 

recommend that NASA assign its highest in-house priority to Project Mercury. 

When it met, the Liaison Committee recommended the "DX," or highest 

industrial procurement priority, for the manned satellite. They assumed that the 

Vanguard and Jupiter-C projects would be dropped from that category and that 

the million-pound-thrust engine would be assigned the next lower, or a "DO," 

priority.3 

New additions to the DX list required the approval of the National Security 

Council, but earlier that body had delegated authority to the Secretary of Defense 

to decide on top priorities for satellite systems. Secretary Neil H. McElroy and 

the Joint Chiefs of Staff received the Liaison Committee's recommendations for 

a new Master Urgency List on December 17. NASA Administrator T. Keith 

Glennan protested to William M. Holaday, the Pentagon's Director of Guided 

Missiles and chairman of the Liaison Committee, that not only Mercury but the 

big new booster, to become known in February as the Saturn, should have top 

priority. McElroy therefore directed Holaday to review the entire DX category 

before deciding what to do about the dual NA'SA requests for the so-called "brickbat," or highest) priority rating. 4 Here matters stood at the end of the year. 

For these reasons, financial allowances for extensive (and expensive) overtime 

work and the authorization for preferential acquisition of scarce materials were 

delayed well into 1959. Maxime A. Faget's optimistic belief before the program 

started that a man might possibly be placed in orbit within 18 months, or during 

the second quarter of the calendar year 1960, depended upon the immediate assignment of the Nation's highest priority to ~1ercury-and an enormous amount 

of the best possible luck! One of the first official estimates of the launch schedule 

for STG, made by Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., in early December for the Air Force 

Missile Test Center at Cape Canaveral predicted concurrent development, qualification, and manned orbital flights from April through September in 1960.5 

This "guesstimate" was likewise predicated on an immediate Defense Department 

order to allow Project Mercury to compete "on a non-interference basis" with the 

military missile programs in obtaining critical "off-the-shelf" components, particularly electronic and guidance items. 

By the first of the new year, it was fairly clear that the large Saturn booster 

would be continued by the Army's Wernher von Braun team and that the Defense 

Department was not about to release von Braun and his associates to NASA. 

Glennan, Dryden, and Silverstein had given Project Mercury the highest priority 

135 
cury's DO rating. Holaday's reports were favorable toward Mercury, and Glennan compromised on the "10°-engines." For the Advanced Research Projects 

Agency ( ARPA) had directed the Army Ordnance Missile Command and the 

Air Force Ballistic Missile Division, respectively, to start independent development 

of both a clustered first-stage booster (the Saturn) and a single-chamber rocket 

engine (the F-1) able to generate about 1,500,000 pounds of thrust. 6 

So NASA finally presented a united front with the Defense Department to 

the President. and Congressional committees. On April 27, 1959, Eisenhower 

himself approved the request for the "brickbat" procurement rating for Mercury. 

The prime contract and most of the major subcontracts for the space capsule had 

been let well before May 4, when Mercury was officially listed in the topmost 

category on the Master Urgency List.7 But the attendant privilege of not having 

to seek the lowest bidder on every major item bought was probably less important 

to the development of the program than the added prestige and support the DX 

rating brought to Mercury within the aerospace industry and among the military 

services. 

During the first quarter of 1959, confusion reigned in Washington aerospace 

circles as too many missile czars, too many space projects, and too many agencies 

clamored for more funds and support. But journalists, scientists, and humanitarians applauded the successes of the Navy-NASA Vanguard II, a tiny weather 

satellite; of the Air Force's Discoverer I, first satellite in polar orbit; and of the 

Army-NASA Pioneer IV, which managed to duplicate M echta's escape velocity. As a deep-space probe and the first U.S. solar satellite, Pioneer IV, launched 

March 3, was magnificently instrumental in expanding man's knowledge of the 

plurality of the Van Allen radiation belts and of the "solar winds," or radiation 

storms, that permeate interplanetary space. Glennan had resolved to identify all 

NASA booster rockets with the name "United States" only, but other rocket 

agencies within the government were unlikely to follow suit. In the midst of all 

this, Project Mercury seemed still an obscure conception to the public. Roy W. 

Johnson of ARPA called it "very screwball" when first proposed; by the end of 

March he said, "It looks a little less screwball now." 8 

Meanwhile, within STG itself, the most urgent task in getting on with the 

program had already been accomplished by the end of 1958. On December 29 

the Task Group had completed its technical assessments of the industrial proposals 

for manufacturing the capsule and its subsystems. Eleven complete proposals 

had been received. The narrowing of the field of possible manufacturers was 

facilitated by the fact that so many alternate configurations were submitted. Faget 

had invited the bidders "to submit alternate capsule and configuration designs 

if you so desire, provided that you incorporate the retrorocket principle, the non136 
AWARDING THE PRIME CONTRACT 

During the first week in January, another group of men, led by Carl Schreiber 

at NASA Headquarters, evaluated the procurement aspects of the competitive 

proposals. This Management, Cost, and Production Assessment Committee was 

required to rank only eight companies, because four had been disqualified on 

purely technical grounds. By January 6, four companies were reported to the 

Source Selection Board as having outstanding management capabilities for the 

prime contract. But in the final analysis Abe Silverstein and the six members of 

his board had to decide between only two firms with substantially equal technical 

and managerial excellence: Grumman Aircraft Engineering Corporation and. 

McDonnell Aircraft Corporation. The NASA Administrator himself eventually 

explained the principal reason for the final choice: 

The reason for choosing McDonnell over Grumman was the fact that 

Grumman was heavily loaded with Navy projects in the conceptual stage. It 

did not appear wise to select Grumman in view of its relatively tight manpower 

situation at the time, particularly since that situation might be reflected in a 

slow start on the capsule project regardless of priority. Moreover, serious 

disruption in scheduling Navy work might occur if the higher priority capsule 

project were awarded to Grumman. 10 

NASA informed McDonnell on January 12 that it had been chosen the prime 

contractor for the Mercury spacecraft. Contract negotiations began immediately; 

after three more weeks of workin,g out the legal and technical details, the stickiest 

of which was the fee, the corporation's founder and president, James S. McDonnell, Jr., signed on February 5, 1959, three originals of a contract.ll This document provided for an estimated cost of $18,300,000 and a fee of $1,150,000. At 

the time, it was a small part of McDonnell's business and a modest outlay of government funds, but it officially set in motion what eventually became one of the 

largest technical mobilizations in American peacetime history. Some 4000 suppliers, including 596 direct subcontractors from 25 states and over 1500 second-tier 

subcontractors, soon came in to assist in the supply of parts for the capsule alone. 12 

The prime contract was incompletely entitled "Research and Development 

Contract for Designing and Furnishing Manned Satellite Capsule." The omission of an article before the word "manned" and the lack of the plural form for 

the word "capsule" prefigured what was to happen within the next five months. 

The original contract began evolving with the program, so that instead of 12 

capsules of identical design, as first specified, 20 spacecraft, each individually 

designed for a specific mission and each only superficially like the others, were 

produced by McDonnell. Contract change proposals, or "CCPs," as they were 

137 
of ideas and, after the contract was awarded, almost organically close teamwork 

in implementing them characterized the STG-McDonnell relationship. For a 

year before the company's selection as prime contractor, original design studies 

had been carried on with company funds. From a group of 12 engineers led by 

Raymond A. Pepping, Albert Utsch, Lawrence M. Weeks, and John F. Yardley in 

January 1958, the Advanced Design section at McDonnell grew to about 40 

people by the time the company submitted its proposal to NASA. The proposa

itself stated that the company already had invested 32 man-years of effort in 

the design for a manned satellite, and the elaborate three-volume prospectus 

amply substantiated the claim.14 

In STG's 50-page set of final "Specifications for a Manned Space Capsule," 

drawn up in November, Faget and associates had described in remarkable 

detail their expectations of what the capsule and some 15 subsystems should be 

like. Now the McDonnell production engineers set about expanding the pre

liminary specifications, filling gaps in the basic design, preparing blueprints and 

specification control drawings, and retooling their factory for the translation o

ideas into tangible hardware. Specification S-6 had enjoined the contractor to 

provide at his plant as soon as possible a mockup, or full-scale model made o

plywood and cardboard, of the capsule system. With high expectations the 

Task Group awaited March 17, the date by which McDonnell had promised to 

have ready their detailed specifications and a dummy Mercury capsule and 

escape tower.15 But the debut was not to be achieved easily. 

Before the company could finish building the mockup, at least two technica

questions affecting the configuration had to be resolved: one was the type o

heatshield to be used; the other was the exact design for the escape system. A 

third detail, the shape of the antenna canister and drogue chute housing atop the 

cylindrical afterbody, was also tentative when STG and McDonnell engmeer

began to work together officially on January 12, 1959.IG 

HEATSHIELD RESOLUTION 

To begin with, all capsule proposals had been evaluated on the basis of a 

beryllium heat sink, but the search for an ablating heatshield continued con

currently. George M. Low reported the tentative resolution of this conflict In 

late January: 

At a meeting held at Langley Field on January 16 (attended by Drs. 

Dryden and Silverstein), it was decided to negotiate with McDonnell to design 

the capsule so that it can be fitted with either a beryllium heat sink or an 

ablation heat shield. It \vas further decided that McDonnell should supply 

138 
this is accomplished by circulating air either between the heat sink and the 

pressure vessel, or by ventilating the pressure vessel after impactY 

Regarding the escape system, McDonnell's proposal had carefully weighed 

the relative merits of STG's pylon, or tower, type of tractor rocket with the alternative idea, which used three sets of dual-pod pusher rockets, similar to JATO bottles, along either side of three fins at the base of the capsule. McDonnell chose the 

latter system for its design proposal, but the STG idea prevailed through the 

contract negotiations, because the Redstone was calculated to become aerodynamically unstable with the pod-type escape system, and the Atlas would likely 

be damaged by jettisoning the pod fins.Is The escape system for an aborted 

launch was intimately interrelated with the problems of the heatshield and of the 

nonnal, or nominal, landing plans. By mid-March Robert F. Thompson's detailed 

proposals for a water landing helped clarify the nature of the test programs to be 

conducted. 

While McDonnell agreed to design the capsule so that it could be fitted alternatively with either a beryllium heat sink or an ablation heatshield, the prime contractor farmed the fabrication of these elements to three subcontractors: Brush 

Beryllium Company of Cleveland was to forge six heat-sink heatshields; General 

Electric Company and Cincinnati Testing and Research Laboratory (CTL) 

were to fabricate 12 ablation shields. The Space Task Group relied on Andre 

J. Meyer, Jr., to monitor this critical and sensitive problem, the solution to which 

would constitute the foremost technological secret in the specifications for the 

manned capsule. 

Meyer, one of the original STG members from Lewis in Cleveland, had been 

commuting to Langley for 10 months. He soon discovered a bottleneck in 

the industrial availability of beryllium. Only two suppliers were found in this 

country; only one of these, Brush, had as yet successfully forged ingots of acceptable 

purity. But ablation technology was equally primitive, so plans had to be 

made on dual tracks. Meyer had had much experience with laminated plastics 

for aircraft structures. He had previously learned, in consultations with the 

Cincinnati Testing Laboratory, how to design a "shingle layup" for fabricatioll of 

an ablation heatshield. While collecting all available information on both the 

ablative plastic and the beryllium industries, Meyer listened to the Big Joe project 

engineers, Aleck C. Bond and Edison M. Fields. They argued for ablation, specifically for a fiber glass-phenolic material, as the primary heat protection for the 

astronaut. Before moving to Virginia in February, Meyer consulted on weekends 

with Brush Beryllium in Cleveland, watching its pioneering progress in forging 

ever larger spherical sections of the exotic metal, which is closely akin to the precious gem emerald. But Meyer, along with Bond and Fields, grew more skeptical 

139 
shingle concept, perfected his designs for an ablative shield. 

There was something basically appealing about the less tidy ablation prin

ciple, something related to a basic principle in physics, where the heat necessary 

to change the state (from solid to liquid to gas) of a material is vastly greate

than the heat absorbed by that material in raising its temperature by degrees

Meyer became convinced by March that beryllium would be twice as expensive 

and only half as safe. Consequently, Meyer and Fields concentrated their effort

on proving their well-grounded intuition that ablation technology could be brough

to a workable state before the Big Joe shot in early summer. 2 0 

While lively technical discussions over ablation versus heat sink continued 

through the spring, the fact that Mercury officials had committed Big Joe to the 

proof-testing of an ablative shield also rather effectively squelched any furthe

attempts at scientific comparisons. Whereas in January Paul E. Purser recorded 

that "we will procure both ablation and beryllium shields . . . and neither will be 

'backup,' they will be 'alternates,' " by the end of April technological difficultie

in manufacturing the prototype ablation shields became so acute as to monopolize 

the attention of cognizant STG engineers. 21 

Glennan and Silverstein in Headquarters therefore directed continuation o

the heat sink development as insurance, while STG gradually consigned the 

alternative beryllium shield to the role of substitute even before the fiber glass

phenolic shield had proved its worth. By mid-year of 1959, apparently only 

the Brush Beryllium Company still felt confident that the metallic heat spong

was a viable alternative to the glass heat vaporizer in protecting the man in space 

from the fate of a meteor. The complicated glass-cloth fabricating and curing 

problems for the ablation shield were mostly conquered by July. John H. Winter

the heatshield project coordinator at the Cincinnati Testing Laboratory, delivered 

his first ablation shield to NASA in Cleveland on June 22 under heavy guard. 2 

The critical question of whether to jettison the heatshield was active early in 

1959. If the shield were a heat sink, it would be so hot by the time it reached the 

lower atmosphere that to retain it after the main parachute had deployed would 

be hazardous to the pilot. Also in case of a dry landing such a hot sponge could 

easily start a prairie or forest fire. On the other hand, a detachable shield would 

add complexity to the system and increase the risk of its loss before performin

its reentry job. In one of the early airdrops a jettisoned shield actually wen

into "a falling leaf pattern after detachment. It glided back and collided with 

the capsule, presenting an obvious potential hazard for the pilot in his vehicle lat

in the reentry cycle." 23 This incident prompted the decision that the heatshield 

would be retained, although it might very well be lowered in the final moment

of the flight if it could help attenuate impact. The memory of this early collision 

140 
the project, there was consolation in the fact that at least two major development 

areas were virtually complete. The two items considered frozen at the end of 

January 1959 were the external configuration of the capsule, except for the antenna 

section, and the form-fitting couch in which the astronaut would be able to endure 

a force of 20 g or more, if it should come to that. 24 The Space Task Group was 

pleased to have something as accomplished fact when so many other areas were 

still full of uncertainties. 

To George Low's ninth weekly status report for Administrator Glennan on 

STG's progress and plans for Project Mercury was appended a tabular flight 

test schedule that summarized the program and mission planning as envisioned 

in mid-March 1959. Five Little Joe flights, eight Redstone, two Jupiter, ten 

Atlas flights, and two balloon ascents were scheduled, the categories overlapping 

each other from July 1959 through January 1961. The first manned ballistic 

suborbital flight was designated Mercury-Redstone flight No.3, or simply "MR3," to be launched about April 26, 1960. And the first manned orbital flight, 

designated Mercury-Atlas No.7, or "MA-7," was targeted for September 1,1960. 

After that, STG hoped to fly several more, progressively longer orbital missions, 

leading finally to 18 orbits or a full day for man in space. Although merely a 

possible flight test plan, this schedule set a superhuman pace and formed the 

basis for NASA's earliest expectations. 2G 

ApPLIED RESEARCH 

By March 1, Langley Research Center was formally supporting the Task 

Group in conducting five major programs of experimentation. The first was 

an airdrop study, begun the previous summer, to determine the aerodynamic 

behavior of the capsule in free fall and under restraint by various kinds of parachute suspension. By early January more than a hundred drops of drums filled 

with concrete and of model capsules had produced a sizable amount of evidence 

regarding spacecraft motion in free falls, spiraling and tumbling downward, with 

and without canopied brakes, to impacts on both sea and land. 2G But what specific 

kind of a parachute system to employ for the final letdown remained a separate 

and debatable question. 

A second group of experiments sought to prove the workability of the escape 

system designs in shots at Wallops Island. On March 11 the first "pad abort," a 

full-scale escape-rocket test, ended in a disappointing failure. After a promising 

liftoff the Recruit tractor-rocket, jerking the boilerplate spacecraft skyward, suddenly nosed over, made two complete loops, and plunged into the surf. 

So disappointing was this test that for several weeks the fin-stabilized pod 

rocket escape system was almost reinstituted. 27 Three Langley engineers, cha141 
able to perfect and prove out their design of the escape rocket nozzles by mid

April. At the same time they improved the pitch-rate of the system by deliberately 

misaligning the pylon about one inch off the capsule's centerline. 2S 

The third applied research program was a series of exhaustive wind-tunne

investigations at Langley and at the Ames Research Center to fill in data on 

previously unknown values in blunt-body stability at various speeds, altitudes, and 

angles of attack. Model Mercury capsules of all sizes, including some smalle

than .22 rifle bullets, were tested for static-stability lift, drag, and pitch in tunnels

Larger models were put into free flight to determine dynamic-stability charac

tenstIcs. Vibration and flutter tests were conducted also in tunnels. The vari

able location of the center of gravity was of critical interest here, as was also the 

shifting meta-center of buoyancy.20 

Using the thunderous forced-draft wind tunnels at Langley and Ames, aero

nautical research engineers pored over schlieren photographs of shock waves

windstreams, boundary layers, and vortexes. Most of the NASA tunnel scien

tists had long been airplane men, committed to "streamlined" thinking. Now 

that H. Julian Allen's blunt-body concept was to be used to bring a man back 

from 100 miles up and travelling about five miles per second, both thought and 

facilities had to be redirected toward making Mercury safe and stable. 

Albin o. Pearson was one such airplane-tunnel investigator who was forced 

to change his way of thinking and his tools by the ever higher mach number re

search program for Mercury. Pearson worked at Langley coordinating all aero

dynamic stability tests for Mercury with blunt models at trans-, super-, and 

hypersonic speeds. While exhausting the local facilities for his transonic stati

stability studies, Pearson arranged for Dennis F. Hasson, Steve Brown, Kenneth 

C. Weston, and other Langley, STG, and McDonnell aerodynamicists to use 

various Air Force tunnels at the Arnold Engineering Development Center, in 

Tullahoma, Tennessee. Beginning on April 9, 1959, a number of Mercury 

models and escape configurations were tested in the 16-foot propulsion wind 

tunnel and 40-inch (mach 22 capability) "Hot Shot" facility at Tullahoma

During the next 16 months a total of 103 investigations utilizing 28 differen

test facilities were made in the wind-tunnel program.3 0 

A fourth experiment program concerned specifically the problem of landing 

impact. Ideally touchdown should occur at a speed of no more than 30 fee

per second, but how to ensure this and how to guard against impacts in direction

other than vertical were exasperating problems. Landing-loads tests in hydro

dynamics laboratories for the alternative water landing had only begun. The 

anticipated possibility of a ground impact, which would be far more serious, de

manded shock absorbers far better than any yet devised. Although there wa

142 
g 

Through April and May, McDonnell engineers fitted a series of four Yorkshire 

pigs into contour couches for impact landing tests of the crushable aluminum 

honeycomb energy-absorption system. These supine swine sustained acceleration 

peaks from 38 to 58 g before minor internal injuries were noted. The "pig drop" 

tests were quite impressive, both to McDonnell employees who left their desks 

and lathes to watch them and to STG engineers who studied the documentary 

movies. But, still more significant, seeing the pigs get up and walk away from 

their forced fall and stunning impact vastly increased the confidence of the newly 

chosen astronauts that they could do the same. The McDonnell report on these 

experiments concluded, "Since neither the acceleration rates nor shock pulse 

amplitudes applied to the specimens resulted in permanent or disabling damage, 

the honeycomb energy absorption system of these experiments is considered suitable for controlling the landing shock applied to the Mercury capsule pilot." 31 

Fifth, and finally, other parachute experiments for spacecraft descent were 

of major concern in the spring of 1959, because neither the drogue chute for 

stabilization nor the main landing parachute was yet qualified for its task in 

Project Mercury. Curiously, little research had been done on parachute behavior at extremely high altitudes. Around 70,000 feet, where the drogue chute 

was at first designed to open, and down to about 10,000 feet, where the main 

landing chute should deploy, tests had to be carried out to measure "snatch" 

forces, shock forces, and stability parameters. Some peculiar phenomena-called 

"squidding," "breathing," and "rebound" in the trade-were soon discovered 

about parachute behavior at high altitude and speed. In March, one bad failure 

of an extended-skirt cargo chute to open fully prompted a thorough review of 

the parachute development program. Specialists from the Air Force, Langley, 

McDonnell, and Radioplane, a division of the Northrop Corporation, met together 

in April and decided to abandon the extended-skirt chute in favor of a newly 

proved, yet so far highly reliable, 63-foot-diameter ringsail canopy. The size, 

deployment, and reliability of the drogue chute remained highly debatable while 

STG sought outside help to acquire other parachute test facilities. 32 The status 

of most other major capsule systems was still flexible enough to accommodate 

knowledge and experience gained through ongoing tests. 

Two other major problems on which Langley also worked with STG, while 

NASA Headquarters planned the role and functions of the new center in Beltsville, concerned the formulation of final landing and recovery procedures and 

the establishment of a worldwide tracking network. Mercury planners had 

assumed from the beginning that the Navy could playa primary role in locating 

and retrieving the capsule and its occupant after touchdown. But a parallel 

assumption that existing military and International Geophysical Year tracking 

143 
The second major area of uncertainty revealed in January 1959 came as 

something of a surprise to Task Group people. They had assumed that the 

world was fairly well covered with commercial, military, and scientific telecommunications networks that could be a basis for the Mercury tracking and 

communications grid. The Minitrack network established roughly north and 

south along the 75th meridian in the Western Hemisphere for Project Vanguard 

turned out to be practically inapplicable. On the other hand, the "Moonwatch" 

program and the optical tracking teams using Baker-N unn cameras developed 

by the Smithsonian Institution Astrophysical Laboratory supplied invaluable data 

during 1958. Tracking of artificial satellites showed that all previous estimates 

of atmospheric density were on the low side. 3:; Trajectory studies for equatorial 

orbits showed a remarkable lack of radio and cable installations along the projected 

track. Much depended upon the precise trajectory selections and orbital calculations for a Mercury-Atlas combination. New Atlas guidance equations that 

would convert the ballistic missile into an orbital launch vehicle had been assigned 

to the mathematicians of Space Technology Laboratories (STL) in Los Angeles

But whatever these turned out to be, it was becoming apparent that the world 

was far less well-wired around the middle and underside than had been thought

Furthermore the medical teams were insisting on continuous voice contact with 

the pilot. So by the end of February, Charles W. Mathews had convinced Abe 

Silverstein that STG should be relieved of the monumental tracking job, and 

NASA Headquarters drafted another contingent of Langley men to set up a 

brand-new communications girdle around the world. 36 

A large part of the Instrument Research Division at Langley, under the 

directorship of Hartley A. Soule, provided the manpower. Soule had previously 

laid out a timetable of 18 months for completion of a tracking network. Now 

he and the Langley Procurement Officer, Sherwood L. Butler, undertook to 

manage the design and procurement of material for its construction. 37 Ray W

Hooker accepted the supervision of the mechanical and architectural engineering

and G. Barry Graves began to direct the electronics engineering. By mid-March 

the problem of providing a tracking network for Mercury was on the shoulder

of a special task unit that came to be known as the Tracking and Ground Instrumentation Unit, or by the barbarous acronym "TAGIU." Although by this 

time most of the other divisions at Langley were also acting partially in support 

of Mercury, the Tracking Unit held a special position in direct support of the 

Space Task Group. Indirectly it provided NASA with its first equatorial tracking web for all artificial satellites. Some 35 people in the unit went to work 

immediately on their biggest problem, described by Graves as "simply to decide 

what all had to be done." 38 By the end of April, Soule had seen the imperative 

146 
The Rose Knot, one of the two 

tracking ships used during Project 

Mercury) is pictured at Maryland 

Ship and Drydock) undergoing 

modifications and installation of 

new equipment. When completed) the ship would have a 

command transmitter as well as 

FPS-J6 radar and other sophisticated tracking and electronic 

equipment. Below) activity in the 

communications support area of 

Goddard Space Flight Center just 

before a manned mission got underway. T his was the relay point 

for all tracking network communications to and from the Mercury 

Control Center at Cape Canaveral. 
approval the first full-scale mockup of the complete Project Mercury manned 

satellite capsule. This "Mockup Review Inspection" represented a rough dividing line between the design and development phases for the project. The "Detail 

Specifications," 80 pages in length, provided a program for the customers. Another McDonnell document provided a written description of the "crew station" 

procedures and capabilities. And the mockup itse1f showed the configuration 

"exploded" into seven component parts: adapter ring, retrorocket package, 

heatshield bottom, pressure bulkhead, airframe, antenna canister, and escape 

rocket pylon.40 

The chief designers, constructors, and managers of the program gathered 

around the capsule to watch demonstrations of pilot entry, pilot mobility, accessibilityof controls, pylon removal, adapter separation, and pilot escape. The board 

of inspection, chaired by Charles H. Zimmerman, then Chief of the Engineering 

and Contract Administration Division of STG, included Gilruth, Mathews, Faget, 

Low, Walter C. Williams, who was then still Chief of NASA's High Speed Flight 

Station, and E. M. Flesh, the engineering manager of Project Mercury for 

McDonnell. In addition, eight official advisers of the board and 16 observers 

from various other interested groups attended the meeting. The president of the 

corporation himse1f introduced his chief lieutenants: Logan T. MacMillan, 

company-wide project manager; John Yardley, chief project engineer; and Flesh

In consultation during the two days with some 40 McDonnell engineers, the Task 

Group recommended a total of 34 items for alteration or study. Of these recommendations 25 were approved immediately by the board, and the rest were 

assigned to study groUps.41 

Among the significant changes approved at this meeting were the addition of 

a side escape hatch, window shades, steps or reinforced surfaces to be used as steps 

in climbing out of the throat of the capsule, and a camera for photographing the 

astronaut. Robert A. Champine, a Langley test pilot who had ridden the centrifuge with Carter C. Collins and R. Flanagan Gray the previous summer to help 

prove the feasibility of the Faget couch concept, suggested more than 20 minor 

changes in instrumentation displays and the placement of switches, fuses, and 

other controls. Also attending this mockup review were Brigadier General Don D. 

Flickinger; W. Randolph Lovelace II; Gordon Vaeth, the new representative of 

the Advanced Research Projects Agency; John P. Stapp, the Air Force physician 

who had proved that man could take deceleration impacts of up to 40 g; and a 

relatively obscure .Marine test pilot from the Navy Bureau of Aeronautics by the 

name of John H. Glenn, Jr. 

When they returned to Langley Field, Task Group ofticials were aware as 

never before of the magnitude of their tasks. Conversations with more than 50 

148 
The Mockup Review Inspection in St. Louis, March 17-18, 1959, was a clear-cut 

intricacies of climbing out of the hatch of the Mercury mockup capsule (right). 

Faget, one of the principal conceptual engineers from STG, briefs on the concept 

(left), and Gilbert North, McDonnell test pilot, is suited up and demonstrating the 

intracacies of climbing out of the hatch of the M ercur)! mockup capsule (right). 

McDonnell engineering group leaders had convinced them that more formal 

contract-monitoring arrangements were needed. Working committees and study 

groups had proliferated to such an extent that a capsule-coordination panel was 

needed. Gilruth appointed John H. Disher in mid-March to head the coordination temporarily. But by mid-June the panel was upgraded to an "office" and 

Disher was recalled to Washington by Silverstein to work with Low and Warren J. 

North.42 

From a nucleus of 35 people assigned to STG in October 1958, the Group had 

grown to 150 by the end of January 1959. Six months later, in July, about 

350 people were working in or with the Task Group, although some were still 

nominally attached to the research centers at Lewis or Langley.43 

The rapid growth of STG, fully endorsed by Washington, was only one of the 

problems facing its management in the spring of 1959. Perhaps the most difficult 

lesson to learn in the first year of Project Mercury was the psychological reorientation required to meet new economic realities. Aeronautical research engineers 

who became administrators under NACA were still essentially group leaders of 

149 
those required to manage a research program, if only because Government procurement policies and procedures are so complex as to necessitate corps of experts in 

supply and logistics. Senator Stuart Symington of Missouri, one of the knowledgeable observers watching the transition at this time, remarked, "The big difference 

between NACA and NASA is that NASA is a contracting agency." 44 

COSTS AND CANCELLATIONS 

Trying to estimate what it should cost to develop hardware from their designs 

for a manned satellite, STG at first envisioned an expenditure of about $16 million 

to manufacture the program's spacecraft. But well before the contractor had been 

selected, Gilruth received a revised estimate based on new specifications, allowances 

for overtime, the fixed fee plus the estimated construction costs, and comparing 

capsule cost per pound with that of the X-15 and Dyna-Soar programs. George 

F. MacDougall, Jr., the aeronautical research scientist who signed this revised 

estimate, advised that the capsule costs should be raised to $22 million. Neither 

an economist nor a cost accountant, he did foresee the possibility "that the curren

estimated costs of $22,000,000 may be optimistically low." 45 

The contract negotiated with McDonnell had compromised between the company's bid of $17,583,717, which was far from the lowest, and the more libera

STG estimate, to settle on a price of $18,300,000 for manufacturing 12 capsules

In view of this compromise upward, NASA officials were unprepared for the 

sudden acceleration of costs that the contractor claimed was necessary for spare 

parts, ground support, and checkout equipment. Before the ink was dry on the 

prime contract, the scope of research and development work was found to have 

mushroomed. In March, when McDonnell advised NASA that spares and tes

equipment would more than double the total contract costs, Abe Silverstein 

applied counterpressure, saying indignantly, "I will not tolerate increases such 

as those above in the contract for any reasons-utterly unreasonable to increase an 

$18,000,000 contract to $41,000,000 by these devices." 46 

Meanwhile STG and McDonnell representatives held a meeting at the working 

level to consolidate and condense the requirements for spare parts and equipment

Savings effected here were eventually greatly overridden by costs arising elsewhere

No one could yet foresee that the basic contract for 12 spacecraft would have an 

evolutionary history of its own.41 Cost accounting for a development program 

was recogYized as a hazardous occupation, but just how hazardous and where to 

look for particular pitfalls took time to learn. 

Whereas cynics might expect that the private-enterprise contractor for the 

capsule might have underbid to gain the contract, the civil servants in STG were 

150 
that each Atlas booster would cost $3.3 million instead of $2.5 million, George Low 

tried for two months to get a satisfactory explanation of this sudden inflation.4~ 

When in May, however, the STG learned of an increase by $8 million in the 

amount the Army Ballistic Missile Agency proposed to charge for the Redstones 

and Jupiters, the time had come for a thoroughgoing review of cost effectiveness 

and program requirements. Gilruth and Purser learned by investigation that the 

Ballistic Missile Agency was billing NASA a "burden" surcharge for the benefit o

laboratory overhead costs at Huntsville. Purser's considered reaction to this was to 

threaten cancellation of the Jupiter program. If NASA must pay for research 

and development at the Redstone Arsenal, he said, then NASA, and STG in 

particular, must be more frugal in the estimation of their needs. 

The Jupiter rocket had been selected to boost a full-scale capsule to about 

16,000 feet per second, a velocity midway between the capacities of Little Joe and 

Redstone (6000 feet per second), and of Atlas (25,000 feet per second). But 

rather than insist on this step, Purser argued that the Atlas should be harnessed to 

duplicate the mission of the Jupiter flights. Since "the cost now equals or exceeds 

the cost of an Atlas for the same mission" and the Jupiter system would not be a 

"true duplicate of the Mercury capsule system," Purser recommended that the 

two Jupiter shots be canceled. 4 

!J 

After further consideration and more negotiations, Purser's recommendation 

was adopted by NASA Headquarters; the Jupiter series was eliminated from the 

Mercury program. In the aftermath of this episode, Glennan made an official 

complaint to the Secretary of Defense about the necessity to curtail proposed 

l~unchings to control costs, describing the situation with some chagrin: 

Members of the staff who have visited Redstone Arsenal report that exceptionally high overhead rates apparently result from the necessity of supporting 

a large technical staff with a limited approved work program. The net result 

to us has been the increased costs of a Jupiter launching to more than that of 

an Atlas, whereas a Redstone launching is about $200,000 less than that of an 

Atlas. The prices being 2.7 and 2.9 million respectively.3D 

At the same time Mercury engineers who were looking for an alternative 

to the balloon flight program discovered that the altitude wind tunnel, the biggest 

physical installation at Lewis Research Center, could be used to simulate environmental conditions up to 80,000 feet. Therefore the balloon flight test program

primarily designed to "soak" the capsule at comparable altitudes, was in effect 

canceled by May. DeMarquis D. Wyatt and other NASA Headquarters staffers 

preparing the budget requests for fiscal year 1960 now had evidence of STG's 

cost consciousness. The cancellations of the Jupiter series and the balloon program greatly simplified the program buildup toward manned space flight. STG 

engineers were pleased by the resulting concentration of effort. 51 

151 
pointed Carl A. Sandahl as its representative for support of this test booster 

program; and William M. Bland, Jr., was managing Little Joe for the Space Task 

Group. Throughout the year 1959 these three men were primarily responsible 

for Little Joe. 

Two significant design changes for Little Joe early in 1959 undoubtedly delayed the program <slightly but contributed greatly to its eventual success. The 

first change, decided upon by Gilruth and Faget in January, required a switch 

from straight to canted nozzles on all the forward-thrusting rocket motors. Little 

Joe had no guidance system, and such a redesign would minimize any upset from 

unsymmetrical thrust conditions. The other departure from the original design 

was the addition of a so-called "booster destruct system." In the interest of 

range safety there should be some provision to terminate by command the thrust 

of the main motor units. Therefore Charles H. McFall and Samuel Sokol of 

Langley devised a booster blowout system, which North American and Thiokol 

Chemical Corporation, the manufacturers of the rocket motor components, added 

to the forward end of each rocket combustion chamber. 52 

By mid-February it was apparent that a development program for rocket 

hardware, even of such limited scope and relative simplicity as the Little Joe 

booster, demanded a far more sophisticated management organization than either 

Langley or the Task Group had envisioned. Although informal arrangements 

had sufficed to get the program started, funding allocations, personnel expansion, 

and contract monitoring problems began to weigh heavily. Carl Sandahl lamented in one weekly progress report that the transfer of Caldwell C. Johnson 

from Langley to the Space Task Group could "just about break up the Little Joe 

Project." Langley's loss was STG's gain in this respect, however, and cooperation 

continued to be encouraging. Indeed, in May, Bland reported that the delivery 

of the first Little Joe booster airframe could be expected approximately two weeks 

earlier than scheduled. 53 

Parallel to the development of the Little Joe test booster, STG and Langley 

engineers continued work on what now was called the Scout, the multistage, solidpropellant research rocket being designed since the previous year for sounding, 

probe, or small satellite missions. Langley had maintained its responsibility for 

designing the Scout for the Air Force after NACA became NASA; and early in 

1959, Robert O. Piland and Joseph G. Thibodeaux came to work with William 

E. Stoney on the staging principles for the long, slim rocket. Although the Scout, 

as a Langley project, was not an integral part of STG's activities in Project 

Mercury, the Task Group held open the possibility of using this simple and 

relatively inexpensive rocket to launch scale models of the Mercury configuration 

and to probe for further critical data on heat transfer and stability. Thus the 

152 
quarters had encouraged the Space Task Group to proceed full speed on personne

recruitment. The exact status of the organization and authority of STG was 

left unspecified, while Headquarters felt its way toward the establishment of the 

"space projects center" at Beltsville, just outside Washington. Although NASA 

had a "hunting license" as a result of its enabling legislation, STG's manager

could not, without full support from President Eisenhower or Administrato

Glennan, know how far or how hard to push the Space Task Group toward a 

permanent semi-autonomous establishment. 55 

STG's need for acquiring competent people without raiding established NASA 

research centers was met in large degree by a fortuitous accident that dramatized 

Anglo-European complaints about the "brain drain" of their scientific-technologi

cal manpower to the United States. A group of over 100 Canadian and British 

aeronautical engineers, who had been employed on a fighter-plane project for 

the British A. V. Roe (AVRO) Company near Toronto, Canada, were out o

work. AVRO tried to find new jobs for them when the CF-105 Arrow projec

was canceled as a result of the Commonwealth's decision that the Bomarc missile 

made the Arrow obsolescent. Twenty-five of these engineers, led by James A

Chamberlin, a Canadian, were recruited by STG and immigrated to work at 

NASA's Virginia colony in mid-April. They were assigned jobs as individuals 

with the existing teams wherever each could be most useful, and they quickly 

proved themselves invaluable additions to making Mercury move. 56 

At the same time, the chief business administrator of the new NASA center 

at Beltsville, Michael J. Vaccaro, was planning to accommodate a complement 

of 425 people for fiscal year 1960 should Gilruth and· his manned satellite team 

move to Maryland. On the first day of May 1959 the "space projects center':

growing out of Naval Research Laboratory's Vanguard team, was renamed the 

Goddard Space Flight Center, and Gilruth's second hat, as the Center's Assistan

Director for Manned Satellites, was reaffirmed. The Mercury program was 

specified as one of the six divisional offices at Goddard. 57 

While many questions of personnel, network management, and contract 

procedures for the capsule were still pending, Glennan made his first visit to the 

Space Task Group at Langley on May 18, 1959. He was impressed by the 

enormity of Project Mercury, by its working-level complexities, and by the 

extraordinarily fine morale in STG. Glennan returned to Washington resolved 

not to tamper with the esprit of STG. But he was also determined that NASA 

as a whole should not become a "space cadet" organization. 5il The Administrator's resolution that NASA must not be overwhelmed by the complexities 

of manned space flight led to a Headquarters policy of minimal interference with 

the Task Group. During the next year, however, the weight of pressure from 

153 
NASA Administrator T. Keith Glennan, right, arrives at Langley Field for his first 

visit to the Space Task Group. He is greeted by Robert R. Gilruth, left, Director of 

Space Task Group, and Floyd L. Thompson, Director of Langley Research Center. 

the public press and the scope of intragovernmental coordination related to 

Mercury was to strain this policy. 

SUPPORTING AGENCIES AND INDUSTRIES 

One of these complexities had been pointed up in the course of planning 

operational procedures for launching. Back in November 1958 the Air Force 

Missile Test Center had accepted Melvin N. Gough as director of NASA tests, 

but it was May 1959 before the Center made any allowance for the functioning 

of NASA's skeleton staff for the manned satellite program. When Herbert F. 

York, the Pentagon's Director of Defense Research and Engineering, testified 

before Congress early in June, he alluded to the coordination problem between 

the Department of Defense and NASA and admitted, "We haven't worked out 

exactly how to do that yet." B. Porter Brown, the first STG man to take up 

residence at the Cape, told his superior, Charles Mathews, that the administration of the launch complexes at the Atlantic Missile Range was as intricate as 

the technical equipment there. 50 

On May 1, 1959, when NASA set up its own liaison office at Canaveral, 

Brown and the STG were still trying to understand all the interrelationships 

154 
established its subsidiary Missile Firing Laboratory on the Cape as an integral 

part of its Ballistic Missile Agency. By the end of January 1959, Kurt H. 

Debus, director of the firing lab, had appointed a project engineer and coordinator for the Mercury-Redstone program, but the conversion of launch pads 

Nos. 5 and 6 into "Launch Complex No. 56" to meet the requirements for 

Mercury-Redstone launchings was less imperative than the need to prepare for 

the Fourth of July launch of Mercury's Big Joe by an Air Force Atlas. GO 

The palmetto-covered dunes at Canaveral had several dozen different kinds 

of launch pads, but they were still in short supply and under heavy demands. 

There were almost as many different military service and civilian contract organizations vying for them as there were pads. Proprietary interests were strongly 

vested, security restrictions were rigorous, and the newly constituted space agency 

was not yet accepted in the elite flight operations society there. Hangar S, in 

the industrial area of the Cape, had been tentatively assigned as "NASA space," 

but the former Naval Research Laboratory team that had built Hangar Sand 

was still active with the Vanguard project was there first. Although now incorporated with NASA, the Vanguard team hoped to carryon with a new booster 

development program named Vega. Another group of half-NASA developers, 

the Jet Propulsion Laboratory, working with von Braun's people, were likewise 

seeking more room to convert Juno I (Jupiter-C) into Juno II (Jupiter IRBM) 

launch facilities for more Explorer satellite missions. G1 

With space for space (as opposed to defense) activities at such a premium, 

Porter Brown and his two advance-guard colleagues for STG at the Cape, Philip 

R. Maloney and Elmer H. Buller, pressed for a higher priority in Hangar S. 

But room was still scarce in early June when Scott H. Simpkinson with about 

35 of his test operations engineers · from Lewis Research Center arrived to set 

up a preflight checkout laboratory for Big Joe. They found a corner fourth of 

Hangar S roped off for their use, and instructions not to overstep these bounds. G2 

Another problem arose over the scheduled allocation of launch pad No. 14, 

which was one of only five available for Atlas launchings. Pad 14 was scheduled 

to be used for the Air Force MIDAS (Missile Defense Alarm Satellite) launchings 

throughout the same time period that the Mercury qualification flights were 

expected to be ready. Although admitting that firing schedules for both the 

Mercury-Redstone and the Mercury-Atlas programs were tentative, STG argued 

that the same pad assigned for the Big Joe shot should be continuously available 

for preparing all subsequent Mercury-Atlas launches. 

The commander of the Air Force Missile Test Center disagreed. In the cause 

of maximum utilization of Cape facilities, Major General Donald N. Yates ordered 

switching of Mercury launches to various available launch stands. These initial 

155 
The complexity of organizational problems at the Cape might have led space 

agency leaders to despair but for an auspicious space flight on May 28. On that 

date in 1959 an Army Jupiter intermediate range ballistic missile launched a nose 

cone carrying two primate passengers-Able, an American-born rhesus monkey, 

and Baker, a South American squirrel monkey-to a 300-mile altitude. At the 

end of 15 minutes and a 1500-mile trajectory, along which the cone reached a 

speed of about 10,000 miles an hour, the Navy recovered Able and Baker alive 

and healthy. The medical experiments were conducted by the Army Medical 

Service and the Army Ballistic Missile Agency with the cooperation of the Navy 

and Air Force Schools of Aviation Medicine. Not only was the flight a triumph 

for space medicine; it also demonstrated an organizational symbiosis of significant 

proportions for all of the services and branches involved.64 

But the "interface" problems within NASA, and between NASA and other 

agencies, continued to exist, particularly at lower echelons in the planning of operational procedures for flight control. Mathews and his staff in the Flight Operations Division of STG were required to plan and replan mission profiles, schedules, 

countdown procedures, and mission directives while accommodating the procedures 

of other divisions and organizations contributing to the operation. By mid-spring 

these working relationships had become so involved that flight schedules had to 

undergo radical revision. It gradually became clear that the original schedules 

aimed at achieving a manned orbital flight early in April 1960 could not possibly 

be met. 

On top of that, the production of spacecraft hardware and flight equipment 

began falling behind schedule. Only one month after the Mockup Review, it 

became evident that capsule and systems production slippages were going to become endemic. On April 17, 1959, Gilruth, speaking before the World Congress 

of Flight meeting at Las Vegas, announced casually, "The first manned orbital 

flight will not take place within the next two years." The first successful pad 

abort using the tower-rocket escape system had just been completed on April 12­

two years to the day before Gagarin's orbital flight-but Gilruth cautiously refrained from pronouncing even the escape sequence firm. And he alluded to other 

areas of uncertainty: 

Although the Mercury concept is the simplest possible approach to manned 

flight in space, involving a minimum of new developments, as you can see, 

a great deal of research and development remains to be done. For flight 

within the atmosphere, the capsule must be stable over the widest speed range 

yet encountered by any vehicle--from satellite velocity to a very low impact 

speed. And in orbital flight, all of the systems must function properly in a 

weightless state. It must be compatible with the launch rocket and must be 

at home on the sea while awaiting recovery.65 

156 
design periad far each of these areas having now evalved into develapmental work

each area could mare plainly be seen in terms af the cantracts to' be manitared 

by STG persannel. Capsules were divided intO' three categaries, the first af which 

was the bailerplate madels being built by Langley far the Little J ae pragram

For Big Jae, alias the Atlas ablatian test, another bailerplate capsule was unde

canstructian jointly, with the STG at Langley responsible for the upper section 

and the STG at Lewis far the lawer pressure-vessel sectian af the capsule. Thi

meant that Langley in canjunction with Radioplane wauld perfect the recavery 

gear and parachute canister, while Lewis people would handle the autamatic 

cantral system, the heatshield, sensors, and telemetry.66 

Far the production madel capsule under McDannell's aegis, a number o

majar subcontractars had lang since been selected. Minneapalis-Haneywell Regu

latar Company was developing the autamatic stabilizatian and contral system

the reaction contral system was being built by Bell Aeraspace Carparatian; some 

electranics and most radiO' gear were to be pravided by Callins Radio Company

and the environmental contral system, the periscape, and the horizan scanner were 

to be supplied by AiResearch, Perkin-Elmer Company, and Barnes Instrumen

Campany, respectively. The alternative heatshields, as previausly noted, were 

being provided by several different subcantractors; and the solid rockets for escape 

by Grand Central Racket Campany and far the retrathrust package by Thiako

Chemical Carporation. 

With regard to' boosters and launching, STG cauld rely an the extensive ex

perience of the Ballistic Missile Divisian/Space Technalogy LaboratDry /Canvai

complex far the Atlas, and an the Army Ballistic Missile Agency and the von 

Braun/Debus team for the Redstanes. Only the Little Joe shats fram Wallap

Island would require extensive attentian to' launch problems because only Little 

Jae was exclusively a NASA booster. Narth American, the prime cDntractor

wauld pravide whatever Langley cDuld nat far Little Joe. 

Under the miscellaneous categary "R and D support," however, Projec

Mercury wauld natanly require the help af all the other NASA research centersLangley, Ames, Lewis, and naw Gaddard-but also af the NASA statians far high

speed flight research at Edwards, Califarnia, and fDr pilatless aircraft research a

Wallaps Island, Virginia. At least 10 separate cammands under the Air Force 

would be clDsely involved, and variaus facilities af the Navy Bureau af AerDnautics

especially the human centrifuge at Johnsville, Pennsylvania, wauld likewise be 

extensively used. 

The range and tracking netwark requirements being supervised by the alter 

ego to STG, namely the Tracking Unit (TAGIU) ar the Mercury netwark graup 

at Langley, gradually became clear as contractars began to report an their feasibility and pragramming studies. The Lincoln Labaratory of the Massachusetts 

157 
The two major systems of Mercury 

flight hardware were of course the 

launch vehicle-the man-rated 

Atlas-being produced at General 

Dynamics/ Astronautics plant in 

San Diego (left) and the Mercury 

spacecraft~ being assembled at the 

McDonnell Aircraft Corporation 

plant in St. Louis (below). 
g, pg

a preliminary bidders' briefing on the tracking, telemetry, and telecommunications 

plans for Project Mercury took place at Langley on April 1, the basic design 

document, "Specifications for Tracking and Ground Instrumentation System for 

Project Mercury," did not appear until May 21. Consequently NASA did not 

select the prime contractor for the tracking network until midsummer.67 

Finally, regarding recovery operations, a NASA and Department of Defense 

working group decided on May 11 to make use of the investment already made by 

Grumman Aircraft Corporation in operations research for its spacecraft bid proposal on recovery requirements. Concurrently arrangements were being made 

with the Chief of Naval Operations, the Commander in Chief of the Atlantic 

Fleet, the Army Ballistic Missile Agency, the Strategic Air Command, the Atlantic 

Missile Range, the Marines, and the Coast Guard for the specific help each could 

render when the time should come for search and retrieval. 

Although these relations appeared to have grown exceedingly complex, they 

had only just begun to multiply. Gilruth, however, was confident that by carefu

coordination and through the largely personal and informal working methods of 

STG, he and his men could handle the problems arising in the Mercury development program. As an encouraging example, the booster and launch coordination 

panels, established separately for the Atlas and the Redstone, had by mid-May 

already achieved impressive understandings on what had to be done. In the case 

of the Atlas, the coordination panel worked out the division of labor between 

NASA, McDonnell, the Ballistic Missile Division, Convair, and STG. Pane

members simply discussed until they had resolved such key problems on their agenda 

as general launch operations procedures, trajectories and flight plans for the firs

two scheduled launches, general approach to an abort sensing system and pro

cedures, range and pad safety procedures, general mechanical and electrical mat

ing, blockhouse space requirements, general countdown and checkout procedures

and velocity cutoff in the event of overshooting the orbit insertion point. Six Red

stone booster and launch panels, established at an important coordination meeting 

on February 11 with STG and McDonnell at Redstone Arsenal, likewise resolved 

in monthly meetings many such items.6s For both boosters, many details remained 

outstanding, of course, but the fact that pending problems were being identified 

early and systematically in May 1959 gave the STG confidence that no furthe

schedule slippages could be charged to the lack of intelligent planning.69 

ASTRONAUT SELECTION 

Now that the men had been chosen to serve as the focal points for all this effort

new spirits animated the Space Task Group. Indeed, the Nation as a whole 

159 
called "aeronauts," and the legendary Greeks in search of the Golden Fleece were 

called "Argonauts," for they were to sail into a new, uncharted ocean. These 

personable pilots were introduced in civilian dress; many people in their audience 

forgot that they were volunteer test subjects and military officers. Their public 

comments did not class them with any elite intelligentsia. Rather they were a 

contingent of mature Americans, average in build and visage, family men all, 

college-educated as engineers, possessing excellent health, and professionally committed to flying advanced aircraft. 

Compared with the average, white, middle-class American male, they enjoyed 

better health, both physically and psychologically, and they had far more experience among and above the clouds. Slightly short of average in stature, they were 

above average in seriousness of purpose. Otherwise these seven seemed almost 

random samples of average American manhood. Yet the names of Carpenter, 

Cooper, Glenn, Grissom, Schirra, Shepard, and Slayton were perhaps to become as 

familiar in American history as those of any actor, soldier, or athlete. 

Despite the wishes of NASA Headquarters, and particularly of Dryden, Silverstein, and Gilruth, the fame of the astronauts quickly grew beyond all proportion 

to their current activities and their preflight mission assignments. Perhaps it was 

inevitable that the "crew-pool" members of STG were destined for premature 

adulation, what with the enormous public curiosity about them, the risk they 

would take in space flight, and their exotic training activities. But the power of 

commercial competition for publicity and the pressure for political prestige in the 

space race also whetted an insatiable public appetite for this new kind of celebrity. 

Walter T. Bonney, long a public information officer for NACA and now Glennan's 

adviser on these matters, foresaw the public and press attention, asked for an enlarged staff, and laid the guidelines for public affairs policy in close accord with that 

of other Government agencies. 71 

The astronauts were first and foremost test pilots, men accustomed to flying 

alone in the newest, most advanced, and most powerful vehicles this civilization 

had produced. They were talented specialists who loved to fly high-performance 

aircraft and who had survived the natural selection process in their profession. 

The demand for excellence in piloting skills, in physical health, and psychological 

adaptability becomes ever more stringent as one ascends the ladder toward the elite 

among military aviators, those senior test pilots with upwards of 1500 hours' total 

flying time.72 

Eisenhower's decision that the military services could provide the pilots greatly 

simplified the astronaut selection procedure. From a total of 508 service records 

screened in January 1959 by Stanley C. White, Robert B. Voas, and William S. 

Augerson at the military personnel bureaus in Washington, 110 men were found to 

160 
tion process began while the possibility of manned Redstone flights late in 1959 stil

existed on paper. 73 

The evaluation committee at Headquarters, headed by the Assistant Directo

of STG, Charles J. Donlan, decided to divide the list of 110 arbitrarily into three 

groups and to issue invitations for the first group of 35 to come to Washington a

the beginning of February for briefings and interviews. Donlan was pleased to 

learn from his staff, White, Voas, and Augerson, that 24 of the first group inter

viewed were happy with the prospects of participating in the Mercury program

Every one of the first 10 men interrogated on February 2 agreed to continue 

through the elimination process. The next week another group of possible pilot

candidates arrived in Washington. The high rate of volunteering made i

unnecessary to extend the invitations to the third group. Justifying this action

George Low reported: 

During the briefings and interviews it became apparent that the final number 

of pilots should be smaller than the twelve originally planned for. The high 

rate of interest in the project indicates that few, if any, of the men will drop 

out during the training program. It would, therefore, not be fair to the men 

to carry along some who would not be able to participate in the flight program. 

Consequently, a recommendation has been made to name only six finalists.'4 

Sixty-nine men had reported to Washington in two groups by the middle o

February. Of these, six were found to have grown too tall. Fifty-six test pilots 

took the initial battery of written tests, technical interviews, psychiatric interviews

and medical history reviews. Those who declined or were eliminated reduced 

the total at the beginning of March to 36 men. They were invited to undergo the 

extraordinary physical examinations planned for them at the Lovelace Clinic in 

Albuquerque. Thirty-two accepted and became candidates, knowing also tha

they were scheduled to pass through extreme mental and physical environmenta

tests at the Wright Air Development Center, in Dayton, Ohio, after being certified 

as physically qualified by the Lovelace Clinic. The 32 candidates were assured 

that the data derived from these special examinations in New Mexico and Ohio 

would not jeopardize their military careers, since none of the findings was to go into 

their service records. 

Although the psychophysiological criteria for the selection of the best possible 

pilots for manned space flight had been under discussion for several years, the 

actual arrangement of the selection procedures for Mercury was directed by a 

NASA selection committee consisting of a senior management engineer, Donlan

a test pilot engineer, North; two flight surgeons, White and Augerson; two psychologists, Allen O. Gamble and Voas; and two psychiatrists, George E. Ruff and 

Edwin Z. Levy. These seven men had done the screening of records and the 

interviews and testing in Washington, constituting phases one and two of the 

161 
third phase of the program, over 30 different laboratory tests collected chemical, encephalographic, and cardiographic data. X-ray examinations thoroughly 

mapped each man's body. The ophthalmology section and the otolaryngology 

sections likewise learned almost everything about each candidate's eyes, and his 

ears, nose, and throat. Special physiological examinations included bicycle ergometer tests, a total-body radiation count, total-body water determination, and 

the specific gravity of the whole body. Heart specialists made complete cardiological examinations, and other clinicians worked out more complete medical 

histories on these men than probably had ever before been attempted on human 

beings. Nevertheless the selectees were so healthy that only one of the 32 was 

found to have a medical problem potentially serious enough to eliminate him 

from the subsequent tests at the Wright Aeromedical Laboratory.76 

Phase four of the selection program was an amazingly elaborate set of environmental studies, physical endurance tests, anthropometric measurements, and psychiatric studies conducted at the Aeromedical Laboratory of the Wright Air 

Development Center. During March each of the 31 subjects spent another 

week experiencing a wide range of stressful conditions. Voas explained phases 

three and four: "While the purpose of the medical examinations at Lovelace 

Clinic had been to determine the general health status of the candidates, the 

purpose of the testing program at Wright Field was to determine the physical 

and psychological capability of the individual to respond effectively and appropriately to the various types of stresses associated with space missions." 77 In addition to pressure suit tests, acceleration tests, vibration tests, heat tests, and loud noise 

tests, each candidate had to prove his physical endurance on treadmills, tilt tables, 

with his feet in ice water, and by blowing up balloons until exhausted. Continuous 

psychiatric interviews, the necessity of living with two psychologists throughout 

the week, an extensive self-examination through a battery of 13 psychological tests 

for personality and motivation, and another dozen different tests on intellectual 

functions and special aptitudes-these were all part of the week of truth at 

Dayton.78 

Two of the more interesting personality and motivation studies seemed like 

parlor games at first, until it became evident how profound an exercise in Socratic 

introspection was implied by conscientious answers to the test questions "Who am 

I?" and "Whom would you assign to the mission if you could not go yourself?" 

In the first case, by requiring the subject to write down 20 definitional identifications of himself, ranked in order of significance, and interpreted projectively, the 

psychologists elicited information on identity and perception of social roles. In 

the peer ratings, each candidate was asked which of the other members of the 

group of five accompanying him through this phase of the program he liked best, 

162 
Back at STG headquarters at Langley, late in March 1959, phase five began. 

The final evaluation of data was made by correlating clinical and statistical information from New Mexico and Ohio. Eighteen of the 31 candidates came recommended without medical reservations for final consideration by Donlan and North

According to Donlan, although the physicians, psychiatrists, psychologists, and 

physiologists had done their best to establish gradations, the attrition rate was 

too low. So the final criteria for selecting the candidates reverted to the technical 

qualifications of the men and the technical requirements of the program, as judged 

by Donlan, North, White, and finally Gilruth. "We looked for real men and 

valuable experience," said Donlan. The selection tests, as it turned out, were 

largely tests of tests, "conducted as much for the research value in trying to formulate the characteristics of astronauts as for determining any deficiencies of the 

group being examined." The verbal responses at the interviews, before and 

after the psychophysiological testing, therefore, seem to have been as important 

final determinants as the candidates' test scores. 80 

Sitting in judgment over 18 finalists, Donlan, White, and North pared down 

the final pool of selectees, choosing each to complement the rest of the group. 

The going was so difficult that they could not reach the magic number six

so Gilruth decided to recommend seven. Donlan then telephoned each of the 

seven individually to ask whether he was still willing to accept a position as a 

Mercury astronaut. Each one gladly volunteered again. The 24 who were 

passed over were notified and asked to reapply for reconsideration in some future 

program. Gilruth's endorsement of the final list was passed upward to Silverstein and Glennan for final review, and by mid-April the faces of America's 

original seven spacemen were shown to the world. 

As the astronauts lost their private lives, Project Mercury found its first great 

public notice. An eighth military officer and pilot came aboard STG about the 

same time to manage the public information and press relations that were already 

threatening to intrude on the time and talent of STG. The eighth personality 

was an experienced Air Force pilot who had flown extensively in World War 

II, on the Berlin Airlift, and in Korea, and who also had proven himself as a 

public information officer after 1954, when he was charged with ameliorating 

public fears and complaints over jet noises, sonic booms, and the ballistic missile 

programs. 8 1 Lieutenant Colonel John A. Powers, USAF, came on board the STG 

staff in early April 1959. Thereafter the mellifluous voice and impish grin o

"Shorty" Powers made his reputation as the primary buffer for STG in its relations with the press and the public. Throughout· the Mercury program, he stood 

before the news media and the people of the world as the one living symbol of al

the anonymous human effort behind the astronaut of the moment. 

Powers propagated some oversimplified images in many instances, as it was 

163 
simple. What was an astronaut really like? What did he eat for breakfast? 

Which ones had been Boy Scouts? How did their wives take their commitment? 

Such questions provoked many to abandon asking how these seven came to be 

chosen and for what purpose they were entering training. 

From the United States Marine Corps, Lieutenant Colonel John Herschel 

Glenn, J r., received orders to report to the Space Task Group at Langley Field, 

on the first of May. He then found himself the senior astropilot in age and date of 

rank. From the Navy, Walter Marty Schirra, Jr., and Alan Bartlett Shepard, 

Jr., both lieutenant commanders, and Lieutenant Malcolm Scott Carpenter 

reported aboard STG. And the Air Force assigned three captains, Donald Kent 

Slayton, Leroy Gordon Cooper, Jr., and Virgil I. Grissom, to duty with NASA 

as test pilots, alias Mercury astronauts. 

On May 28, 1959, the astronauts were brought before the House Committee on Science and Astronautics in executive session. They were asked to 

reassure the Congressmen that they were content with the orderliness, safety, 

and seriousness of Project Mercury. This they did vigorously, together and 

separately, before Schirra mentioned the "seven-sided coin" of competition over 

which one should get the first ftight. 82 

The first seven American astronauts were an admirable group of individuals 

chosen to sit at the apex of a pyramid of human effort. In training to transcend 

Project Mercury astronauts pose for an informal group portrait: From left to right, 

John H. Glenn, Jr.; Donald K. Slayton; M. Scott Carpenter, Jr.; Virgil I. Grissom; 

Walter M . Schirra, Jr.; Alan B. Shepard, Jr.; and L. Gordon Cooper, Jr. 
to blaze a trail for man into the empyrean, they chose to lead by following the 

opportunity that chance, circumstance, technology, and history had prepared for 

them. Influential 20th-century philosophers as diverse as Bertrand Russell, Teilhard de Chardin, and Walter Kaufmann tell us that man's profoundest aspiration 

is to know himself and his universe and that life's deepest passion is a desire to 

become godlike. All men must balance their hubris with their humility, but, as 

one of those aspiring astronauts said, "How could anyone turn down a chance to 

be a part of something like this?" 83 

Shortly after the astronauts were introduced to the public, a literate layman 

asked directions of Mercury for mankind in general: 

Which way will heaven be then? 

Up? 

Down? 

Across? 

Or far within? 84 

165 
 

Vilil 
 ..........................................................................................................................................................

Man-Rating the Machines 

(JULY-DECEMBER 1959) 

SADDLING ballistic missiles for manned space flight was in some respects like 

trying to ride Sinbad's roc: the bird was not built for a topside burden, and 

man was not meant for that sort of punishment. Once accepted in theory that 

this fabulous bird could be domesticated and that some men could tolerate, even 

enjoy, the strains and stresses of such a ride, practical questions of marrying the 

separate abilities of man and machine demanded immediate answers. Engineers in the Space Task Group and other NASA researchers at Langley, Lewis, 

and Ames were providing some of these answers; engineers and technicians in 

industry and in quasi-military organizations contributed equally important 

answers. The primary task of the Task Group managing Mercury was to ask 

the right questions and to insist on better answers from the industrial producers 

of the parts and from the academic, industrial, and military suppliers of services. 

In the latter half of 1959, as STG monitored the gathering momentum of the 

various manufacturers, the urgent search for ways to reduce the ultimate risk 

of sending a man for a ride in an artificial moon lifted by a missile gradually 

became more systematic and better organized. The theme of this chapter is 

the quest for reliability in the at).tomatic machinery developed for the Mercury 

mISSIOn. Making these devices safe enough for man took longer and exposed 

more doubts than STG had expected originally. During the curiously quiet 

first half of 1960, the flexibility of the Mercury astronaut complemented and 

speeded the symbiosis of man and missile, of astronaut and capsule. Technology, 

or hardware, and techniques, or procedures-sometimes called "software" by 

hardware engineers-both had to be developed. But because they were equally 

novel, reliability had to be built into the new tools before dexterity could be 

acq uired in their use. 1 

At the beginning of 1959 NASA Headquarters had worried about three 

scientific unknowns needing resolution before actual attempts to conduct manned 

167 
space: 

The problems known to exist include (1) high-energy radiation, both primary and cosmic ray and the newer plasma type discovered in the IGY satellite 

series; (2) man's ability to withstand long periods of loneliness and strain 

while subjected to the strange environment of which weightlessness is the factor 

least evaluated; and (3) reentry into the atmosphere and safe landing. The 

reliability of the launching rocket must be increased before a manned capsule 

is used as a payload. Once these basic questions have been answered, then we 

can place a manned vehicle in orbit about the earth.::! 

By July 1959 the engineers in the Space Task Group were no longer concerned 

by the unknowns in each of these problematic areas. They had obviated the 

need for high-energy radiation shielding by selecting a circular orbit around the 

equatorial zone at an altitude between 80 and 120 miles, well above the stratosphere and well below the Van Allen belts. Loneliness would be no problem because the communications network would keep the astronaut in almost constan

voice contact with ground crews. Weightlessness, to be sure, was the factor least 

evaluated, but by now this was the prime scientific variable that Project Mercury 

was designed to answer. The psychological outlook was good anyway, argued 

STG rhetorically, for does not everyone who has learned to swim enjoy the freedom and relatively "weightless" state when immersed in water? As to reentry, 

the strain of positive and negative acceleration forces had almost certainly been 

conquered; only a few questions remained unanswered about actual reentry and 

recovery stresses. Indeed, what Headquarters had left unnumbered in its pres

entation and therefore seemed to have regarded almost as an afterthought, the 

Task Group considered the paramount problem: the reliability of the rocket 

boosters must be increased before manned capsules could be attached to 'them. 

The first major proof test of a critical part of the Mercury spacecraft design 

occurred on April 12, 1959. After a dismal failure a month before, the escapetower rocket attached to a full-scale boilerplate model demonstrated its ability 

to lift both man and capsule away from a dangerous booster still on the ground

Giving first priority to providing an escape system in case of failure at launch was 

evidence of a pervading lack of confidence in the reliability of the big rockets. 

The men of the Space Task Group were not liquid-fuel propulsion experts; they 

had to rely on missile technicians and managers to convert weapon systems into 

launch vehicles for spacecraft. Since no one was expert in spacecraft engineering

STG h~d to rely on itself and on McDonnell Aircraft Corporation to gain as 

much experience as rapidly as possible with the capsule and its systems. This 

high adventure of learning how, specifically, to orbit a man safely was shared 

by a growing number of people supporting Project Mercury. 

168 
feel his worth. The creative engineering challenge of the project inspired an 

esprit that could be measured by the amount of voluntary overtime and vacation 

time relinquished by the members of STG. Gilruth's administrative assistant for 

staff services, 46-year-old Paul D. Taylor, died of a heart attack in May and was 

mourned by his colleagues as a martyr who overworked himself in the cause. 3 

According to its own estimates of present and future manpower requirements, 

the Task Group was hard pressed to meet all its commitments in mid-1959. At 

the beginning of the new fiscal year on July 1, NASA authorized the Task Group to 

hire another 100 persons, mostly recent college graduates. A total of 488 

authorized positions was to be filled by the end of the calendar year. But STG 

argued that only one of its three major divisions at work on Mercury-Operations, 

under Charles W. Mathews-was fairly equal in numbers to the tasks at hand 

so far. The Flight Systems Division, under Maxime A. Faget, was called "greatly 

understaffed," and the Engineering and Contract Administration Division, now 

under the acting leadership of the Canadian James A. Chamberlin, was in "such 

urgent need" of more technical and administrative help that the Space Task 

Group requested 200 additional positions, to be filled within the next three 

months. Estimates of increased Langley and Lewis support activities for Project 

Mercury almost doubled this personnel req uest. The sheer size and immense 

scope of industrial and military personnel required to support Mercury stirred 

STG to a premonition of precarious control: 

In summary, a detailed study of staffing requirements for Project Mercury 

shows that the presently authorized complement of 388 should be increased 

by 330 positions during fiscal year 1960 in order to maintain the project schedules. This staff of 718 should be available by September of 1959, but orderly 

recruitment and integration of the additional staff would defer the filling of the 

complement until April of 1960. It is believed that everything practicable in 

the line of contracting on Project Mercury has been done without going to the 

extreme of effectively relinquishing control of the project. Failure to obtain 

the additional personnel shown must result in either major slippage of the 

schedule or in NASA effectively losing control of the project to the military 

or to industry.4 

Because there was still no official commitment to manned space flight programs beyond Mercury and because hope was still high that manned orbital flight 

could be accomplished by the end of 1960, the Task Group accepted its temporary status and planned to phase out the people working on Project Mercury 

beginning in June 1961. Such plans were tentative, of course, and did not reckon 

with the technical and organizational problems that were to stretch out the program, nor with the astronautical and political events that were to change the 

course and expand the role of NASA's manned space flight efforts in 1961. 

169 
project manager for engineering administration devolved upon Chamberlin

who also headed the new Capsule Coordination Committee. Addition of staf

services and elaboration of branch and section working group leaders afte

August 3 made STG's organization charts much more detailed. But the block 

diagrams, while helpful to new recruits and to industrial visitors at the crowded 

old brick administration building at the eastern entrance to Langley Field, showed 

rather artificial separations of activity and authority within STG. The intimacy 

of the original group had suffered inevitable attrition as the result of an eightfold 

increase in size in less than a year, but the "inner circle" still operated personally 

rather than formally. Outside relationships, even those with Langley Research 

Center, on the other side of the airbase, were rapidly demanding more formality

A partial solution to these problems, which in time grew to be one of the 

most important organizational decisions ever made for Project Mercury, was the 

informal agreement made in August 1959 between the Defense Department and 

NASA to select two men to act as "single points-of-contact." DOD appointed 

Major General Donald N. Yates, Commander of the Air Force Missile Tes

Center, to become in October its representative for military support activitie

for Project Mercury. The job of mobilizing and coordinating such diverse activi

ties as Air Force prelaunch and launch support, Navy search and recovery 

operations, Army tracking and communications facilities, and joint service and 

bioastronautics resources demanded systematic, formal organization. 6 In turn

Hugh L. Dryden for NASA asked the chief of the High Speed Flight Station

Walter C. Williams, to join Gilruth to act as the contact point with Yates. Ef

fective September 1, 1959, Williams and his colleagues Kenneth S. Kleinknech

and Martin A. Byrnes accepted transfers from NASA's High Speed Flight Sta

tion-shortly to be renamed the NASA Flight Research Center-to the Spac

Task Group. Having pioneered since 1945 in airborne launches of rocket re

search aircraft, Williams was a senior convert to the vertical ground launch caus

of Mercury. Faget especially welcomed him. A personable and forceful leader

Williams took a position on a level with Charles J. Donlan. Each was an asso

ciate director for Project Mercury, Williams specializing in operations and Donlan 

in development. Williams had guided the NACA-NASA role in the flight opera

tions of the X-15 rocket plane to a point just two days short of its first powered 

flight, on September 17, with North American Aviation's test pilot A. Scott Cross

field at the controls. When Williams, Kleinknecht, and Byrnes took up th

higher national priority and professional challenge of working with spacecraf

rather than aircraft, they brought to STG valuable operational and developmen

experience with the highest-performance manned flight vehicles then in existence.

170 
p

gyg

motel at Langley. Gray found a residence in St. Louis near the north side of 

Lambert Field, where the McDonnell plant was spread around the perimeter 

of the municipal airport. Though their technical liaison work was heavy, Morgan 

and Gray acted as hosts and guides as much as consultants, because visits by 

exchange delegations of engineers were so frequent. Just as the coordination of 

these meetings and trips for the development of the capsule became imperative 

among the aircraft and spacecraft designers and developers, so were closer, more 

orderly relations required with the developers of the ballistic missile boosters. 

Aerospace engineers often used one word to express the adaptation of systems, 

modules, organizations, and even technologies to one another: that word was 

"interface"; it connoted problems of integration, convergence, and synthesis of 

indeterminate magnitude. 

CONVERGING TECHNOLOGIES 

The problem of man-rating the Redstone rocket was tackled with characteristic gusto by Joachim P. Kuettner, the man Wernher von Braun had called 

in 1958 to lead the Army's effort if Project Adam had been authorized. Kuettner 

had earned doctorates in law, physics, and meteorology before he became a flight 

engineer and test pilot for Messerschmitt during the Third Reich. Having been 

one of the first to test a manned version of the V-I in 1944, Kuettner had made 

further use of his avocation as a jet aircraft and sailplane pilot for the U.S. Air 

Force Cambridge Research Center before joining the Army Ballistic Missile 

Agency (ABMA) at Huntsville. 

In retrospect Kuettner has generalized about the problem of "Man-Rating 

Space Carrier Vehicles" in tenus relating his experience with both aviation and 

missile technologies: 

While it is admittedly an oversimplification, the difference between the two 

technologies may be stated in the following general terms. From an aviation 

standpoint, man is not only the subject of transportation, and as such in need 

of protection as a passenger; but he is also a most important integral part of 

the machine over which he truly has control. His decisions in expected and 

unexpected situations are probably the greatest contributions to his own safety. 

Aviation, to the best of our knowledge, has never seen the necessity for a fully 

automatic initiation of emergency escape. 

In contrast, rocket technology has been for 20 years a missile technology governed by the requirements of target accuracy and maximum range. As such, 

it had to develop automatic controls. Unlike a human payload, a warhead 

has no use except on the target. Once the missile fails, it may as well destroy 

itself during flight. (For this reason, missilery has accepted aerodynamically 

unstable vehicles which, in case of loss of thrust, flip over and break apart, 

171 
and an attempt is made to move the precious human payload from one track 

to the other. As in all last-minute switchings, one has to be careful to assure 

that no derailment takes place.s 

In the spring of 1959, while Kuettner was still signing himself the "Adam

NASA Project Engineer," he and his deputy, Earl M. Butler, began a series o

triangular conferences, with Kurt H. Debus and Emil P. Bertram of ABMA

Missile Firing Laboratory at the Cape, in one corner, and Charles Mathews an

Jerome B. Hammack, the Mercury-Redstone project engineer for STG, in th

Langley corner. Between these informal discussions and six formal study pane

inaugurated by von Braun, a consensus was supposed to arise on, among othe

things, the sort of emergency detection system necessary to warn of impendin

cataclysms in the booster and to trigger some sort of automatic ejection. Pre

liminary agreements on a design for an abort or safety system began early in goo

accord. But the uncertain reliability program, booster recovery proposal, capsul

design changes, and electrical interface problems fouled the subsequent develop

ment of the Redstone abort-sensing system.() In this respect the Atlas was mor

nearly ready than the Redstone by the end of the year. 

Many factors contributed to the slippage in the Mercury-Redstone schedul

but one significant cause for delay grew out of a subtle difference between ABMA 

and STG in their approach to pilot safety and reliability. The role of the astro

naut was clearly at issue here longer than anywhere else. Conditioned by the

designs for Project Adam, the Huntsville rocketmen thought of the astronau

throughout 1959 as merely an "occupant" or "passenger." The Adam proposa

for an escape system during off-the-pad aborts would have ejected a biopac

capsule laterally into a tank of water alongside the launch pad. Having less tru

than STG in the reliability of "Old Reliable," the Redstone engineers insisted o

putting safety first and making it fully automatic wherever possible. Reliability

they insisted, is only a concept and should be secondary to safety. This attitud

was illustrated in the introductory paragraphs of the ABMA proposal for th

Redstone emergency detection system. The author, Fred W. Brandner, bega

by saying that the use 6f missiles for transporting man would demand an automati

escape system to assure pilot safety: 

This system has to rely on emergency sensors. There are an enormous number 

of missile components which may conceivably fail. Obviously, it would be 

impractical and actually unsafe to clutter up the missile with emergency 

sensors. However, many malfunctions will lead to identical results, and, in 

sensing these results and selecting the proper quantities, one can reduce the 

number of sensors to a few basic types. 10 

172 
The Mercury astronauts received their first detailed briefing on the Redstone booster 

at the Army Ballistic Missile Agency, Huntsville, Ala., in June 1959. Facing the 

briefer, Joachim P. K.uettner, the Mercury-Redstone project engineer under von 

Braun, are: left to right, Glenn, Shepard, Schirra, Carpenter, Slayton, Grissom, and 

Cooper. K.uettner touches the fin-stabilized Redstone model, explaining the purpose 

and construction of the carbon jet vanes barely visible below the single engine· nozzle. 

Brandner proposed to measure only three basic quantities: the control system 

attitude and angular velocity, the 60-volt control and 28-volt general electrical 

power supplies, and the chamber pressure of the propulsion system. To ensure 

"a high degree of passenger (pilot) safety" on the Mercury-Redstone rocket, if 

operational limits set on these sensors should ever be exceeded the capsule would 

eject from the booster and be lowered by parachute. 

Brandner's modest proposal stated the issue but not the solution to the general 

question of man-machine relationships in Project Mercury. In 1959 the technical 

debate was still inextricably mixed up with previous attitudes toward the precise 

role of man in a manned satellite. Could the pilot test the vehicle or should the 

vehicle test the pilot? Mercury was NASA's program and STG's responsibility, 

but at this stage of development the military establishment and missile industries 

still knew, or thought they knew, more about the technological path for man's 

first climb into space than NASA-STG did.ll 

173 
By piloted spacecraft, I refer to a vehicle wherein the pilot operates controls 

and directs the vehicle. This is quite a different concept from the so-called 

man-in-space proposal which merely takes a human "along for the ride" to 

permit observation of his reactions and assess his capabilities. The high-speed 

flight experience of the NACA and the Air Force has shown that piloted craft 

return research data more effectively and more economically than do unmanned 

vehicles. While there is a place, certainly, for automatic, instrumented 

vehicles, I believe man himself will prove "the essential payload" to the full 

utilization of space. Orbital rendezvous, controlled landing after reentry, 

and space missions other than the simplest sensing and reporting type, will 

require man. If for no other reason than that of reliability: man will more 

than pay his wayY 

Boushey's percipient remarks illustrated the persistent residue of misunder

standing remaining from interagency competition for the manned satellite projec

in the pre-NASA, pre-Mercury period. Task Group officials felt compelled t

defend the distinctive nature of Mercury and to emphasize that NASA astronaut

were never intended to be passive passengers. Rather, they were to prove the

full potential as pilots, within limits prescribed by the mission requirement

programmed into the automatic systems. Although there were long and har

arguments within STG as to whether man should be considered "in the loop" o

"out of the loop" in performing various tasks, the preponderance of NACA-bre

aeronautical engineers in STG usually voted for as active an astronaut as possible

Outside pressures from scientists and missile engineers also helped unify an

consolidate opinion within STG. The distinguished research chief of Bell Tele

phone Laboratories and one of the fathers of communication satellites, John R

Pierce, summed up the argument for automation: "All we need to louse thing

up completely is a skilled space pilot with his hands itching for the controls." 1 3 

The problem of man-rating the Atlas was preoccupying another task force o

still larger proportions than the one concerned with the Redstone. The industria

and military engineers in southern California and at the Cape who were tryin

to make the Atlas meet its design specifications could and did mobilize mor

resources than either STG or ABMA could command. A few individuals stoo

out as leaders in the vast effort. Kuettner's counterpart for the Air Force wa

Bernhard A. Hohmann, another former test pilot at Peenemuende West, who ha

been project engineer on the first two models of the Messerschmitt-163, one o

the first rocket-powered aircraft. In August 1959, Major General Osmond J

Ritland of the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division (BMD) assigned him the jo

of supervising the systems engineering at Space Technology Laboratories (STL

for a pilot safety and reliability program on the Mercury-Atlas series. A

Brandner did for the Redstone, D. Richard White, an STL electronics engineer

174 
yg, 

to proceed with their commitments.H STL performed an overall technical direction over the associate contractors for the Atlas similar to that performed by 

STG for NASA, but with significant differences. STL had not been involved in 

the original MX-774 design behind the Atlas, and although it became closely 

associated with conceptual development of Atlas as a weapon, ultimate responsibility remained with the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division. Both STL and STG 

were systems engineering organizations, but STG had a deeper background in 

research and was directly responsible for the development of the project it 

managed; STL had broader experience in systems engineering, missile development, and business management. 

Hohmann and his assistant, Ernst R. Letsch, huddled closely with the reliability 

statisticians at STL, led by Harry R. Powell, and with BMD's Mercury project 

liaison officer, Lieutenant Colonel Robert H. Brundin, also appointed by Ritland 

in August 1959. But the main responsibility for detail design, development, and 

production work fell on the shoulders of the manufacturers, General Dynamics 

(formerly Convair) / Astronautics (GD/A or CV/ A) of San Diego. The details, 

tooling, and implementation of the emergency detection or abort sensing system 

for the Atlas were guided by Charles E. Wilson, Tom E. Heinsheimer, and Frank 

Wendzel. Their boss, Philip E. Culbertson, the Mercury project manager for 

General Dynamics/ Astronautics, conferred repeatedly and sometimes heatedly 

with Hohmann, Brundin, Doll, and his own factory production engineers, Johp 

Hopman, Gus Grossaint, Frank B. Kemper, and R. W. Keehn.15 

Here, too, a triangular dialogue was going on during initial considerations for 

man-rating the Atlas. But STG engineers were far away, busy with other matters:. 

and knew well how little they knew about the Atlas. NASA and the Air Force, 

like STG and the Army, informally had agreed to divide developmental responsibility and labor at the capsule-separation point in the trajectory. So STG 

was not directly involved in the tripartite workings of the so-called "BMD-STLGD/A complex" in southern California. 

Looking at Project Mercury from the West Coast in 1959 gave a set of very 

different perspectives on the prospects for accomplishing the program on time and 

in style. South of Los Angeles International Airport there was no consensus and 

precious little communication of the confidence felt across the continent on the 

coast of Virginia. But STL, Convair, and Air Force representatives at the Cape 

gradually diffused some of the contagious enthusiasm of STG while commuting 

between home and field operations. More important still, the sense of desperate 

military urgency to develop an operational ICBM still pervaded the factories 

and offices devoted to the Atlas in southern California. Motivation already mobilized might easily be transferred if only the Atlas could be proved by the end 

175 
neophytes who had stolen the march on man in space was the acronymic nam

imposed by Air Force officers on the abort sensing system. White and Wilso

wanted to call it simply the Atlas "abort sensing system." No, someone in authorit

insisted, let's make the name more appropriate to STG's plans to use the Atla

"as is." 16 So this play on words, "Abort Sensing and Implementation System

became the designator for the only part of the Atlas created solely for the purpos

of man-rating that missile. Reliability was truly designed into the "ASIS"; onc

this component was proven and installed, the Atlas ICBM should, it was hoped, b

electromechanically transformed into the Mercury-Atlas launch vehicle. 

H. Julian AllenJ Ames Research Center aerodynamicist who pioneered in hyperson

wind tunnel development and provided the concept of blunt reentry bodiesJ whic

was a major contribution to ballistic missile nose-cone technology and to the Mercur

capsulf!J briefs a delegation from the National Aeronautics and Space Council visitin

Ames on August 3J 1959. Visitors areJ left to rightJ John T. RettaliataJ Alan T

WatermanJ Executive Secretary Franklyn W. PhillipsJ William A. M. Burden

NASA Administrator T. Ke~th GlennanJ and Center Director Smith DeFrance
, 

First, I would like to establish the requirement for the pilot. . .. Objections 

to the pilot range from the engineer, who semi-seriously notes that all problems of Mercury would be tremendously simplified if we didn't have to worry 

about the bloody astronaut, to the military man who wonders whether a college-trained chimpanzee or the village idiot might not do as well in space as 

an experienced test pilot. The latter is associating Mercury with the Air Force 

MISS or Army Adam programs which were essentially man in a barrel approaches. The answer to the engineer is obvious and simple. If you eliminate the astronaut, you can see man has no place in space. This answer doesn't 

satisfy the military skeptic, however, since he is not questioning the concept 

of a man in space but rather what type man. I hate to hear anyone contend 

that present day pilots have no place in the space age and that non-pilots 

can perfonn the space mission effectively. If this were true, the aircraft driver 

could count himself among the dinosaurs not too many years hence. 

* * 

Not only a pilot, but a highly trained experimental test pilot is desirable 

as in any scientific endeavor the individual who can collect maximum valid 

data in minimum time under adverse circumstances is highly desirable. The 

one group of men highly trained and experienced in operating, observing, and 

analyzing airborne vehicles is the body of experimental test pilots represented 

here today. Selection of anyone for initial space flights who is not qualified 

to be a member of this organization would be equivalent to selecting a new 

flying school graduate for the first flight on the B-70, as an example. Too 

much is involved and the expense is too great. 17 

Slayton's defense of Mercury before his professional colleagues outside NASA 

was echoed time and again in the next two years by NASA spokesmen. But 

many critics remained skeptical because it was obvious that Mercury was being 

designed to fly first without man. Flight controllers and electronics engineers 

who had specialized in ground control of supersonic interceptors and who had 

confidence in the reliability of remote control of automatic weapon systems were 

the least enthusiastic about allowing the pilots to have manual overrides. Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., the chief flight director for STG, preceded Slayton on the 

same program at the meeting of the experimental test pilots. He reviewed the 

range network to be provided and the operational plan to be used for the Mercury 

orbital mission. At that time, Kraft circumspectly avoided any public indication 

of his personal views on the role the astronaut would play, but years later he 

confessed his bias: 

The real knowledge of Mercury lies in the change of the basic philosophy of 

the program. At the beginning, the capabilities of Man were not known, so 

the systems had to be designed to function automatically. But with the addition of Man to the loop, this philosophy changed 180 degrees since primary 

success of the mission depended on man backing up automatic equipment that 

could faip8 

177 
whose job it was to consider every conceivable malevolent contingency. John P. 

Mayer, Carl R. Huss, and Howard W. Tindall, Jr., first led STG's Mission Analysis 

Branch and set a precedent for spending ten times as much effort on planning for 

abnormal missions as for normal ones. I !) 

Although not always obvious to STG, there also were differences in attitudes 

within the space medicine fraternity. Since mid-1958, men like Siegfried J

Gerathewohl and George R. Steinkamp had led the school of thought that believed that man was more nearly machine-rated than machines were man-rated

Conversely, the chief of the space medicine division of the Air Force's School of 

Aviation Medicine, Colonel Paul A. Campbell, influentially asserted his belief 

that "in these past two or three years the situation has suddenly changed, and the 

machine capability has advanced far beyond man's capability." 20 Other biologists and medical college specialists also had doubts about the peculiar combination of stresses-from high to zero to high g loads-that the man in Mercury must 

endure. Whatever the majority medical opinion might have been, the Task 

Group felt itself beleaguered by bioastronautical specialists who wanted to "animalrate" the ~pace flight machines all the way from amoebas through primates before 

risking a man's life in orbit. 

ApPROACHES TO RELIABILITY 

"Reliability" was a slippery word, connoting more than it denoted. Yet 

as an engineering concept it had basic utility and a recognized place in both aviation and missile technology. The quest for some means of predicting failures 

and thereby raising the odds toward success began modestly as a conscious effort 

among STG and McDonnell engineers only in mid-1959, after design and development work on major systems was well under way. Other engineering groups 

working in support of Project Mercury also began rather late to take special care 

to stimulate quality control and formal reliability programs for booster and capsule 

systems. Mercury would never have been undertaken in the first place if the 

general "state-of-the-art" had not been considered ready, but mathematical analyses of the word "reliability" both clarified its operational meaning and stirred 

resistance to the statistical approach to quality control. 

The fifties had witnessed a remarkable growth in the application of statistical 

quality control to ensure the reliability of weapon systems and automatic machinery. The science of operations analysis and the art of quality management 

had emerged by the end of the decade as special vocations. Administrator Glennan himself, as president of Case Institute of Technology, had encouraged the 

development over the decade of one of the nation's foremost centers for operations 

178 
py

If the parts going into the 1959 car were of the same quality level as those 

that went into the 1927 car, chances would be even that the current model 

would not run. 

This does not mean that the 1927 car was no good. On the contrary, its 

quality was excellent for that time. But it was a relatively simple product, 

containing only 232 critical parts. The 1959 car has 688 such parts. The 

more the critical parts, the higher the quality level of each individual part must 

be if the end product is to be reliable. 2 2 

In view of the fact that estimates showed over 40,000 critical parts in the 

Atlas and 40,000 more in the capsule, the awesome scale and scope of a reliability program for Mercury made it difficult to decide where to begin. 

To organize engineering design information and data on component performance, someone had first to classify, name, or define the "critical parts." To 

create interrelated systems and to analyze them as separate entities at the same 

time was difficult. The Space Task Group and McDonnell worked on creation 

at the expense of analysis through 1959. Gradually NASA Headquarters and 

Air Force systems engineers steered attention to certain "semantic" problems in 

the primitive concepts being used for reliability analyses. For instance, what 

constitutes a "system"? How should one define "failure"? What indices or coefficients best "measure" overall system performance from subsystem data? 2 3 

These and other features of reliability prediction were so distasteful to creative 

engineers that many seriously questioned the validity and even the reliability of 

reliability predictions. "Reliability engineering," admitted one apologist in this 

field, "may .'eem to be more mysticism and black art than it is down-to-earth 

engineering. In particular, many engineers look on reliability prediction as a 

kind of space-age astrology in which failure rate tables have been substituted for 

the zodiac." 2 4 Around STG this skeptical attitude was fairly representative. 

But at NASA Headquarters, Richard E. Homer, newly arrived in June 1959 

as Associate Administrator and third man in command, had brought in a small 

staff of mathematicians and statisticians. It was led by Nicholas E. Golovin, who 

transferred from the Air Force to NASA some of the mathematical techniques 

lending quantitative support to demands for qualitative assurance. Theory-inWashington versus practice-at-Langley were in conflict for a year until the nature 

of "reliability" for pilot safety on the one hand and for mission success on the 

other became more clearly understood by both parties. The pressure exerted by 

Golovin and NASA Headquarters to get the Task Group and McDonnell to change 

its approach to raising reliability levels became a significant feature in redesign 

and reliability testing during 1960.:!;' 

Scientists, statisticians, and actuaries, working with large populations of 

179 
it invidiously 

the numbers game. Being limited to a small set of events and 

forced by time to overlap design, development, test, and operations phases, they 

could not accept the statistical viewpoint. They demanded that reliability b

redefined as an ability. The senior statistician at Space Technology Laboratorie

for the Atlas weapon system, Harry Powell, recognized and elaborated on thi

distinction while his colleagues became involved with man-rating the Atlas

His remarks indicated that STL and Convair/Astronautics faced the same 

divergence of opinion that NASA Headquarters and STG confronted: 

If reliability is to be truly understood and controlled, then it must be thought 

of as a device) a physical property which behaves in accordance with certain 

physical laws. In order to insure that a device will have these physical properties it is necessary to consider it first as a design parameter. In other words, 

reliability is a property of the equipment which must be designed into the 

equipment by the engineers. Reliability cannot be tested into a device and it 

cannot be inspected into a device)' it can only be achieved if it is first designed 

into a device. Most design engineers are acutely aware that they are under 

several obligations-to meet schedules, to design their equipment with certain 

space and weight limitations, and to create a black box (a subsystem) which 

will give certain outputs when certain inputs are fed into it. It is imperative 

that they also be aware of their obligation to design a device which will in fact 

perform its required function under operation conditions whenever it is called 

upon to do SO.2G 

There is a rule in probability theory that the reliability of a system is exactly 

equal to the product of the reliability of each of its subsystems in series. The 

obvious way to obviate untrustworthy black boxes was to connect two black 

boxes in parallel to perform the same function. In other words, redundancy 

was the technique most often used to ensure reliability. 

After the cancellation of Mercury-Jupiter, Kuettner and others at ABMA 

set about a serious effort to develop a parachute system to recover the Redstone 

booster. They also began to concentrate on the simplifications necessary for the 

sake of reliability to custom-build a man-rated Redstone. Starting with the 

advanced, elongated version of the rocket, which had been renamed the "Jupiter-C" in 1956 for the Army's ablation research on reentry test vehicles, Kuettner 

called upon the expertise of all who could spare time from the Saturn program 

to help decide how to man-rate their stock. The fundamental change made to 

the J upiter-C airframe was the elimination of its staging capability. Other 

modifications stripped it of its more sophisticated components while permitting 

it to retain greater performance characteristics than the original single-stage 

Redstone.27 

The designers of the Redstone and Jupiter missile systems proposed an extensive list of basic modifications to adapt the vehicle to the Mercury capsule. The 

180 
terC. Another highpressure nitrogen tank to pressurize the larger fuel tank 

and an auxiliary hydrogen peroxide fuel tank to power the engine turbopump 

also had to be added. To increase the reliability of the advanced Redstone, 

they had to simplify other parts of the Jupiter-C system. Instead of the sophisticated autopilot called ST-80, one of the first inertial guidance systems (the 

LEV-3) was reinstalled as the guidance mechanism. The after unit of the 

payload on the old Redstone, which had contained a pressurized instrument 

compartment, became the permanent forebody of the main tank assembly, there 

being no need to provide terminal guidance for the new payload. A spacecraft 

adapter ring likewise had to be designed to simplify interface coordination and 

to ensure clean separation between capsule and booster. At the other end of 

the launch vehicle it was necessary to use the most recent engine model, the A-7, 

to avoid a possible shortage of spare parts. Hans G. Paul and William E. 

Davidson, ABMA propulsion engineers, took the basic responsibility for "manrating" this engine. 28 

Although STG engineers bought the Redstone in the first place because it 

was considered an "off-the-shelf" rocket, they gradually learned through H3.mmack's liaison with Butler that the Mercury-Redstone was in danger of being 

modified in about 800 particulars, enough to vitiate the record of reliability 

established by the earlier Redstones and Jupiter-Cs. Too much redesign also 

meant reopening the Pandora's box of engineering "trade-offs," the compromises 

between overdesign and underdesign. Von Braun's team tended in the former 

direction; Gilruth's in the latter. To use Kuettner's distinction, ABMA wanted 

"positive redundancy" to ensure aborts whenever required, whereas STG wanted 

more "negative redundancy" to avoid aborts unless absolutely essential,2D This 

distinction was the crux of the dispute and the essence of the distinction between 

"pilot safety" and "mission success." 

On July 22, 1959, STG engineers received a group of reliability experts from 

von Braun's Development Operations Division at Huntsville. Three decades 

of rocket experience had ingrained strongly held views among the 100 or so 

leaders of this organization about how to ensure successful missions. The 

ABMA representatives told STG that they did not play the "numbers game" 

but attacked reliability from an exhaustive engineering test viewpoint. Their 

experience had proved the adequacy of their own reliability program, carried 

out by a separate working group on a level with other engineering groups and 

staffed by persons from all departments in the Development Operations Division 

of ABMA. In conference with design engineers, ABMA reliability experts 

normally set up test specifications and environmental requirements for proving 

equipment compliance. STG felt sympathetic to this approach to reliability, 

but systems analysts at NASA Headquarters did not. 

181 
received more attention than has any other previous missile or aircraft system. 

Reliability has been a primary design parameter since the inception of the 

project.30 

Accompanying reliability diagrams showed over 60 separate redundancies designed into the various capsule systems, allowing alternate pilot actions in the 

event of equipment malfunctions during an orbital mission. 

McDonnell specified three salient features of its reliability program in this 

preliminary indoctrination manual. First, by making reliability a design requirement and by allowing no more than a permissible number of failures before 

redesign and retesting were required, reliability was made a conscious goal from 

the beginning of manufacture. Second, five separate procedures were to implement the development program: evaluations, stress analyses, design reviews, 

failure reporting, and failure analysis. Third, reliability would be demonstrated 

finally by both qualification and reliability testing. 

These assurances did not seem adequate; STG, as well as NASA-Washington, 

requested McDonnell to clarify its reliability policy in more detail and to hold a 

new symposium in mid-August to prove the claim that "reliability is everybody's 

business at McDonnell." McDonnell responded by changing its "design objective" approach to what may be called a "development objective" approach. 

The new program, drawn by Walter A. Harman and Eugene A. Kunznick, 

explicitly set forth mean times to failure and added more exhaustive demonstrations, or "life tests," for certain critical components. More fundamental assumptions were made explicit, such as: "the reliability of the crew is one (1.0) ," and 

"the probability of a catastrophic explosion of the booster, of any of the rockets, 

of the reaction control system, or of the environmental control system is negligible." 31 McDonnell's presentation at this symposium stressed new quality control procedures and effectively satisfied STG for the moment. Golovin and his 

NASA Headquarters statisticians were pleased to note refinement in sophistication toward reliability prediction in the capsule contractor's figures for the 

ultimate 28-hour Mercury mission. At the August 1959 reliability symposium, 

McDonnell assigned impressively high percentage figures as reliability goals for 

both mission and safety success: 

Mission Safety 

Boost _____________________________________ .7917 .9963 

Orbit ____________________________________ . 9890 .9999 

Retrograde ________________________________ . 9946 .9946 

Reentry __________________________________ .9992 .9992 

Overall _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ . 7781 .9914 

182 

decimal place was significant. French was an experienced systems engineer who 

recognized that numbers like these did mean something: obviously the authors 

felt the weakest link in the chain of events necessary to achieve mission success 

was the launch vehicle. McDonnell believed the safety of the astronaut would 

be ensured by the escape system, but the coefficient". 7917" diluted the confidence 

in overall mi~ion success to ".7781." McDonnell and STG agreed that the onus 

was on the Atlas to prove its safety and reliability as a booster for the Mercury 

mISSIOn. 

That point was not disputed by the men responsible for the Atlas. They 

professed even less confidence in their product for this purpose than the capsule 

contractor had. Not until November 13, 1959, did representatives of the Air 

Force Ballistic Missile Division and Space Technology Laboratories visit Langley 

to present in detail their case for a thoroughgoing plan to man-rate the Atlas as 

a Mercury booster. Harry Powell had prepared a carefully qualified chart that 

estimated that ·the reliability of the Mercury booster would reach approximately 

75 percent only in mid-1961, and the first upbend (at about 86 percent) on that 

curve was to occur another year later. 32 Such pessimism might have been overwhelming to STG except that no abort-sensing system was yet computed as a 

factor in this extrapolation. Also STG and STL agreed never to entertain the 

idea of "random failure" as a viable explanation. 

Because aircraft designers and missile experts held different opinions about 

which systems should be duplicated, redundancy itself was often a subject of 

dispute. Passenger aircraft were provided with many redundant features, including multiple engines and automatic, semi-automatic, and manual control 

systems, so that commercial flight safety had been made practically perfect. But 

in the military missile programs of 1959, redundancy to ensure mission success 

had been relegated to the duplication of the complete missile, "by making and 

launching enough to be sure that the required number will reach each target." 33 

In the age of "overkill," one out of four, for instance, might be considered quite 

sufficien" to accomplish the destructive mission of the ICBM. Both McDonnell 

and the Task Group placed more faith in quality control procedures and in 

redundant system development than in mathematical models for reliability 

prediction during design. 

In the course of further symposia and conferences during the autumn, the 

Space Task Group, working with military systems analysts and industrial quality 

controllers, learned more than it taught about improving reliability programs

Abe Silverstein, whose Headquarters office was retitled Space Flight Programs 

(instead ~f Development) at the end of the year, was especially eager to see STG 

set up its own reliability program, with procedures for closer monitoring of 

subcontracts. 34 

183 
and about 30 Atlas launches yielded clinical diagnoses for generalizing about 

the most likely ways these boosters might fail. Gerald W. Brewer, Jack Cohen, 

and Stanley H. Cohn collected much of this work for STG, and then Mathews, 

Brandner of ABMA, White of STL, and others formulated some ground rules 

for the development of the two abort-sensing systems. 

All the investigators were pleasantly surprised to find relatively few catastrophic conditions among the failures. Their biggest problem was not what 

to look for or when to allow the escape rocket to blast away but rather how to 

avoid "nuisance aborts." Such unnecessary or premature escapes would arise 

from overemphasis on pilot safety or "positive redundancy" at the expense of 

mISSIOn success. Long arguments ensued over several questions: How simple 

is safe? How redundant can you get and still have simplicity? How do you 

design a fail-safe abort-sensing system without overdesigning its sensitivity to 

situations less than catastrophic? 35 

Without trying to define every term, Mathews and his associates agreed that 

only imminent catastrophic failures were to be sensed, that reliability should be 

biased in favor of pilot protection, and that all signals from abort sensing should 

be displayed in the spacecraft. Application of these ground rules to the Redstone 

led to development of an automatic abort-sensing system (AASS) that sensed 

"downstream" or fairly gross parameters, each of which was representative of 

many different types of failures. Merely "critical," as opposed to "catastrophic," 

situations were not allowed to trigger the escape system automatically. Such 

merely "critical" situations as partial loss of thrust, a fire in the capsule, deviation 

from flight path, or loss of tank pressure might possibly be corrected or tolerated. 

But catastrophic situations were defined as existing where there were no seconds 

of time for intelligent decisions, corrective actions, or manual abort. The abort 

system for the Mercury-Redstone sensed and was activated by such typical catastrophic situations as excessive attitude deviations or turning rates (leading to 

high angles of attack during high dynamic pressures and resulting in a structural 

breakup), as sudden loss of tank or bulkhead differential pressure in pressurestabilized structures, as loss of electrical power in the control and instrument 

system, and as loss of thrust immediately after liftoff.3G 

If any of these situations should arise, the automatic abort-sensing system was 

supposed to initiate an explosively rapid sequence of events. First, the engine of 

the Redstone would cut off (except during the initial moments over the launch 

site) . Then the capsule would separate from the booster. And this would be 

followed by the ignition of the escape rocket, with acceleration up and away from 

the booster, and finally by the normal sequencing of events in the recovery phase 

of the launch profile. 

184 
p

success of Big Joe and the promise of Little Joe shots promoted confidence and 

sustained enthusiasm. At the end of this period optimistic forecasts were the 

rule, not only for booster readiness but also for firm operational schedules. The 

first Mercury-Redstone and Mercury-Atlas qualification flight tests were scheduled 

for launchings in May 1960. Even the final goal of Project Mercury, the achievement of manned orbital flight around Earth, still appeared possible by March 

1961.37 

But as autumn blended into winter in 1959, optimism cooled along with the 

weather. The job of keeping snow clear of its own drive was difficult enough

but heavier equipment than that possessed by the Task Group was necessary to 

plow aside the drifts that sometimes covered the streets of interagency cooperation

In particular, the Mercury-Redstone schedule began to look progressively more 

snowbound in the early winter of 1959, largely because the capsule and the Atlas 

commanded primary attention. 

At the end of August, Gilruth had proposed to Major General John B. Medaris

commanding ABMA, that the first attempt at a Mercury-Redstone launch from 

the Cape be set for February 1, 1960. This proposal represented a slippage of 

about four months since February 1959, when the initial understanding between 

ABMA and STG had been reached. But the prospects for rapid accomplishments 

in the next six months were brighter at Langley than at Huntsville, St. Louis, or 

the Cape. Plans to use eight Mercury-Redstones for ballistic training flights 

between February and October 1960 were still in effect, and STG also hoped to 

complete six manned Redstone flights by March 1961 before launching the first 

of the manned Mercury-Atlas configurations. Such optimism was not entirely 

the result of youthful naivete or of underestimates of complexity. In large part, 

target dates were set deliberately at the nearest edge of possible completion periods 

to combat Parkinson's Law regarding bureaucratic administration, that work 

expands to fill the time allotted for its completion. 38 

Much of the fault for Redstone slippages must revert to STG for having 

canceled the Mercury-Jupiter series rather precipitously, thereby unceremoniously 

relegating the 4000 members of von Braun's division at Huntsville almost to "task 

element" status as far as Mercury was concerned. Although the Jupiter program 

per se was being phased out at ABMA, its sires, who sparked the entire Army 

Ordnance team, were sensitive to criticism of their strange love for space travel. 3D 

STG engineers should not have been surprised that the cancellation of the MercuryJupiter series would cause a reaction in Huntsville that would reverberate to the 

Cape and through Washington. 40 

Although NASA Headquarters had carefully coordinated STG's recommendation in this matter, many other factors contributed to the change in the Mercury 

185 
-­

69 It 

launch-vehicle airframe 

Standard Redstone with propellant tanks elongated 96 in. 40 It 4 in. 


for increased burning time 


Model A-7 engine 

thrust: 78,000 Ib 

turbopump drive : catalyzed hydrogen peroxide 

Air rudde .. (4) 

Tactical Redston e 

Schematic of Mercury-Redstone. 

program management plans that forecast the slip of MR-l past MA-l on the 

flight test schedule. There were at least three technical reasons for the MercuryRedstone slippages as well as several other, perhaps more important, psychological 

and policy-planning reasons for this change in the "progressive buildup of tests" 

principle. 

Foremost among all causes of delay was the fact that the pacing item, McDonnell's production model of the Mercury capsule, took longer to build than anyone 

supposed it would. 41 Because systems integration within the spacecraft was 

lagging by several months, every other area would be delayed also to some degree. 

Secondly, the design and development of the abort-sensing systems for the Redstone 

and Atlas were attacked separately and not cross-fertilized. The basic dispute 

over safety versus success, or positive versus negative redundancy, could be settled 

only with actual flight test experience. 

A third technical reason for the fact that the Redstone team, with its ready 

and waiting boosters, failed to lead off the series of qualification flight tests was 

186 

V-band clamp (three explosive 


bolts) 


Spacecratt;\aunch-vehicle ~==~~~ adapter 


Aft unit (contains pressurized 

instrument compartment) 

Spacecraft 

__---'-_ Ballast 

-, ~Vibration dampening 

.0'.';0' I 

83 It 

Jet vanes (4) 

Mercury-Redstone 

-I 


15 h 2 in. 

9+-It 4 in. 
bility" problems could be obviated by hard work, more flight tests, and intensive 

engineering attention to every detail. Elaborate operational checkouts were to be 

made at Huntsville and the Cape. STG agreed to these procedures in August, 

but by November time was clearly in contention between Huntsville and Langley. 

The Task Group wanted to launch its first three Redstones for Mercury during 

May and June 1960, but if this were possible, it was hardly advisable from ABMA's 

point of view. 42 

By then, however, this could be considered a family dispute among stepbrothers within NASA. On October 21, 1959, President Eisenhower announced 

his decision, pending congressional approval, to transfer the von Braun group and 

the Saturn project from ABMA to NASA. If this decision solved a morale 

problem among members of the Development Operations Division at ABMA, it 

undoubtedly complicated certain institutional and political problems. Jockeying 

for position probably intensified rather than abated, as plans for the future use of 

the Saturn launch vehicle overshadowed Mercury for the moment. Another five 

months were required to complete a transfer plan, and eight months would elapse 

before the official transfer was completed on July 1, 1960. 4 3 

Although the plans for the escape of a pilot from a malfunctioning Redstone 

were complex, plans for a similar emergency detection system on the Atlas were 

several times more complicated. Three engines, rather than one, with an overall 

range and thrust capability well over three times greater, and with guidance, 

gimbaling, and structural separation mechanisms far more complex than those to 

be used on the Redstone-these were some of the factors that put the problem of 

man-rating the Atlas on a higher plane of difficulty.. The Mercury capsule escape 

system was, of course, the same for both boosters, but the emergency detection 

systems had to be tailored to the differences between the launching vehicles. The 

single-stage Redstone was a piece of battlefield artillery that could stand on its own 

four fins, for example, whereas the fragile "gas-bag" Atlas would crumple if not 

pressurized.. And in flight, the Atlas' outboard engines must stage properly and 

drop away from the central sustainer engine before the escape tower could 

be jettisoned. 

While Charles Wilson and his crew at Convair in San Diego worked out the 

detailed design and hardware for ASIS, Richard White led Space Technology 

Laboratories through more detailed analytical studies and simulation tests at EI 

Segundo. Their concurrent efforts ensured that the airborne emergency detection 

system for the Mercury-Atlas evolved, as Powell insisted it must, with the steadfast 

goal of reliability. Inspection and test programs were inaugurated separately by 

Hohmann, beginning in October, but reliability was designed into the ASIS black 

box from May onward. Wilson and White soon discovered that their biggest 

problem concerned the prevention of recontact between booster and capsule after 

187 
In addition to the ASIS, the Atlas D had to be modified in a number of other 

ways before it could carry a man. Because the Mercury-Atlas configuration was 

taller by approximately 20 feet than the Atlas D weapon system, the rate gyro 

package for the autopilot had to be installed 20 feet higher on the airframe, so it 

would sense more precisely the rate of change of booster attitude during launch. 

The Atlas would not need posigrade rockets to assist separation because the Mercury capsule would embody its own posigrade rockets inside its retrorocket package. 

Because the capsule's posigrade rockets could conceivably burn through the thin 

skin of the liquid-oxygen dome, a fiber-glass shield covering the entire dome was 

attached to the mating ring. The two small vernier rocket engines, which on the 

ICBM had thrust on after sustainer engine cutoff, or "SECO," for last-minute 

trajectory corrections, were regoverned to delete the "vernier solo" phase of operation, thus saving more weight and complexity. In addition to the use of older, 

more reliable types of valves and special lightweight telemetry, only one other 

major booster modification was considered at first. The man-rated Atlas D would 

use the so-called "wet start" instead of the newer, faster "dry start" method of 

ignition. A water pulse sent ahead of the fuel into the combustion chambers 

would effect slower and smoother initial thrust buildup, minimizing structural stress 

on the engine before liftoff. This change saved approximately 60 pounds, by 

enabling the use of a thinner skin gauge in the Atlas airframe. But the "thinskinned" Atlas soon proved to be too thin-skinned, and the weight saved was lost 

again in 1961, when a thicker skin was found to be essential in the conical tank 

section just under the capsule., The longer, lighter spacecraft payload proved a 

cause of additional dynamic loads and buffeting problems, calling for more strength 

in the Atlas forebody.45 

After additional study of the idiosyncracies of the Atlas missile, Mathews, 

Wilson of Convair, and White decided on the parameters most in need of monitoring for abort indications: (1) the liquid oxygen tank pressure, (2) the differential 

pressure across the intermediate bulkhead, (3) the booster attitude rates about all 

three axes, (4) rocket engine injector manifold pressures, (5) sustainer hydraulic 

pressure, and (6) primary electrical power. 

Dual sensors gauging each of these catastrophic possibilities were fairly easily 

developed. If anyone of these conditions should arise or any system should fail, 

the ASIS would by itself initiate the explosive escape sequence. But anyone of 

four men with their fingers poised over pushbuttons also could abort the mission: 

the test conductor, the flight director in the control center, the range safety officer, 

or the astronaut with his left thumb would be able to decide if and when the escape 

rocket should be ignited. But these manual abort capabilities were only supplements, with built-in time delays, to the automatic abort sensing and implementation 

188 
Forward tank 

2 vernier bulkhead 

Tank 

port 

Reentry vehicle 

Liquid oxygen 95 ft 4 ;---+-­ - inflight disconnec

in. Liquid 1-----11------tank pressuri­ - -­--II coble fairing oxygen zation line 

lank Inlerpod 

cabfeway 

67" 4 in. 

Upper pod Antenna 


fairing 
 Fu e l lank Intermediate pressuri­ bulkhead Liquid zation line 

Fuel ~----- oxygen---------Ij, No. 2 lank line vernier 

Umbilical th rust 

connections chamber 

No. 1 vernier Aft lank Ihrusl chamber bulkhead Forward Launcher nacelle 

filling Missile Helium storage tank auxiliary 

Support 

sockel 

Liquid oxygen 2 ft 3 in. fill and drain Thrust t line connection cylinder 

Aft nacelle 

Mercury-Atlas ICBM 

Schematic of Mercury-Atlas D . 

system. During the portion of the flight powered by the Atlas, human judgmen

was to be secondary to a transistorized watchdog autopilot. Their moral obligation 

to pilot safety made the Atlas redesigners reduce man-control to this minimum

Culbertson later explained, "While it was true that mission success provided pilo

safety, provision for pilot safety did not always improve the probability of mission 

success. " 40 

One of the most important analytical tasks in man-rating the Atlas was th

careful and continuous study of the mathematical guidance equations for the launch 

phase of all the missions. Three men at Space Technology Laboratories shared 

this responsibility, C. L. Pittman, Robert M. Page, and Duncan McPherson

While Convair was learning that it cost approximately 40 percent more to build 

a man-rated Mercury-Atlas than a missile system, STL's mathematicians and 

systems engineers, like Hohmann and Letsch, were working out their differences 

on how to control quality and augment reliability. By the end of 1959, Hohmann 

189 

Adapler 

Liquid oxygen 

boiloff valve 

No.1 vernier 

Fuel fill 

and drain 

No. 1 booster 

No.2 booster 

No. 

ris e off 

disconnect 

panel 

Vernier 

drain line 

connection 

16 ft 

1

Wl=~~rn=l -foiring 
CRITICAL COMPONENTS OF THE CAPSULE 

Basic as the boosters were for successful manned space flight, they were not 

the only machines that had to be certified for safety before a man's life could be 

entrusted to them. The capsule with all its systems and subsystems, designed to 

operate automatically on unmanned test flights at first, would also have to have 

reliable provisions for operation with a normal, or even with an incapacitated or 

unconscious, man aboard. Man-rating the spacecraft, therefore, involved the 

paradoxical process of dehumanizing it first for rehumanizing later. 

When the seven Mercury astronauts first visited the McDonnell Aircraft Corporation laboratories and factory, for three days in May 1959, each was handed 

an indoctrination manual and given opportunities to inspect the mockup capsule 

and to review the requests for alterations made by the Mockup Review Board in 

March. Immediately they expressed some uneasiness about the poor visibility 

afforded by the two remotely placed portholes and about the difficulty of climbing 

out the bottleneck top of the capsule. 48 So, based on these and numerous other 

criticisms expressed by the men for whom these machines were being built, redesign 

studies were begun. 

Just as Maxime Faget was the chief NACA-NASA designer of the capsule configuration and mission concept, so John F. Yardley, his closest counterpart in the 

McDonnell organization, was the chief developer of the Mercury capsule. Neither 

Faget nor Yardley was the nominal leader of the vast team within which each 

worked, but both animated the technical talents of their colleagues, from design 

through the final development stages of the Mercury hardware. John Yardley 

held a master's degree in applied mechanics, had worked for McDonnell since 

1946 as a stress analyst, strength engineer, and project leader, and he was exceptionally talented in his capacity for work and for synthesizing technical knowledge. 

By telephone, teletype, and face to face, Faget and Yardley consulted each other 

about the multitude of detailed design and development decisions involved in 

production throughout 1959. But their bilateral agreements were restricted to 

details. Larger decisions regarding the development of systems or interaction 

between subsystems were reserved for the 17 different working groups in STG and 

the 10 or so at McDonnell. James Chamberlin instigated this capsule coordination system and gradually replaced Faget in relations with Yardley during the 

next year. 49 

In 1959 the McDonnell Aircraft Corporation became the 100th-Iargest industrial company in the United States, employing approximately 24,000 people to 

produce goods (primarily the F4H-l Phantom twin-jet fighter for the Navy) and 

services (mainly computer time, electronic equipment, and systems engineering) 

190 
volume, appeared rather minuscule. The president of the corporation, J. S. McDonnell, in September 1959 wrote for his twentieth annual report to stockholders 

that "there is no need to stampede away from the aircraft business." 50 

When the prime contract for Mercury was awarded to McDonnell, the Corporation's vice-president for project management, David S. Lewis, assigned Logan 

T. MacMillan, a tall, tactful test pilot and mechanical engineer with a winning 

manner, to be companywide project manager with authority to mobilize the resources of the Corporation for the new venture. MacMillan, of the same age and 

rank as Faget, soon found it difficult to reconcile McDonnell's development and 

production phases with NASA's concurrent research and test phases. Time, cost, 

and quality control were interdependent, and now the astronauts and STG had 

called for major design changes in the window size and placement, the side 

entrance-exit hatch, the instrument panel, and switch accessibility. To his top 

management, MacMillan reported on July 18, 1959 : 

The Space Task Group is a rather loosely knit organization of former Research 

Engineers. The Coordination Office is an attempt to channel and control 

information and requirements against MAC more closely and is a good move. 

It is clear, however, regardless of whether or not it succeeds, the NASA 

philosophy of investigation and approval of the smallest technical details will 

continue, and request for changes will also continue. We will continue to 

handle this by being responsive to requests for studies and recommendations 

and to be as flexible as we possibly can to incorporate changes. It is imperative 

that we continue to improve our capability to make these studies promptly, 

submit change proposals to cover the increased work as soon as possible, and 

evaluate the effect of changes on delivery schedules rapidly.51 

A month later MacMillan complained by teletype message directly to Paul E. 

Purser that coordination meetings were being held too frequently for effective 

action on items from preceding meetings. He suggested that later meetings be 

scheduled "for one month from time minutes are received at MAC." But the 

pace did not slow significantly; the finish line simply moved farther away. 

MacMillan and Yardley, together with Edward M. Flesh and William 

Dubusker, two older, more experienced production engineers, supervised the bulk 

of the load for McDonnell in tooling up, making jigs and fixtures, and organizing 

their craftsmen and procedures for production. Kendall Perkins, McDonnell's 

vice-president for engineering, had deliberately assigned Yardley and Flesh, combining youthful enthusiasm and experienced caution, to start the manufactureliterally the handmaking-of the first spaceframe. The subsequent design and 

technical development at McDonnell was carried out under their direction. 52 

By July 1959, Dubusker, the tooling superintendent, had completed McDonnell's first surgically clean "white room" for the later manufacturing phases, had 

taken on the job of manufacturing manager for Mercury, and had moved some 

191 
gg f py 

in manufacturing and checkout 

techniques. At the McDonnell 

plant) white-room conditions prevail (left) as fabrication proceeds 

on a spacecraft; (below) part of a 

spacecraft's seven miles of wire is 

installed on a breadboard; and 

(below) left) a technician assembles a compact spacecraft clock. 
tend with retooling for other unusual materials, with rising requirements for cleanliness, with stricter demands for machined tolerances, and with higher standards for 

quality control. 

Flesh, the engineering manager, and Dubusker drew on all of McDonnell's 

experience with shingled-skin structures around jet afterburners for heat protection. Their machinists had previously worked with the patented metal, Rene 41, 

a nickel-base steel alloy purchasable only from General Electric, but arc-jet tests 

of the afterbody shingles on the outer shell of the capsule showed a need for some 

ingenious new fabricating techniques. G3 

While Yardley and Flesh concentrated on developing the most critical components for the Mercury capsule, two other McDonnell employees began to play 

significant roles in man-rating this machinery. The company was fortunate to 

have its own so-called "astronaut" in the person of Gilbert B. North, another testpilot engineer but one with a unique relationship for the NASA contract. He was 

always being confused with his identical twin brother, Warren J. North, who served 

Silverstein and George M. Low in Washington as NASA Headquarters participant 

and monitor in astronaut training. Gilbert North served McDonnell as chief 

human guinea pig in the St. Louis ground tests. Warren and "Bert" North 

actively promoted the incorporation of test-pilot concerns in the Mercury program 

from two standpoints outside STG. 

Most of the astronauts and test pilots, including the North twins, instinctively 

resented the "interference" of psychologists and psychiatrists in Project Mercury. 

Willing to wager their careers and perhaps their necks on the automatic systems of 

the capsule and booster, the pilots preferred to study the reliability of the machines 

and to assume themselves adaptable and self-reliant in any situation. They were 

thus unprepared to discover that psychologists would be among their strongest allies 

in gaining a more active role for man during Mercury missions. Throughout 

1959, arguments over the necessity for the three-axis handcontroller, as opposed 

to the more traditional two-axis stick and one-axis pedal control system, demonstrated these pilots' confidence in themselves. Distrusting what they regarded as 

tender-minded psychology and psychiatry, the astronauts-in-training studied hard 

to become more tough-minded electromechanical engineers. And indeed their 

first complaints regarding spacecraft design resulted in changes adopted formally 

during September for later models of the capsule. 54 

John Yardley fortunately was not quite so tough-minded and recognized early 

an imbalance in detail design considerations. He insisted on having the crossfertilization of parallel human engineering studies. McDonnell hired in February 

a "human engineering" expert, Edward R. Jones, to conduct studies of pilot tasks 

and to analyze the various ways in which the man might fail his machines. Proposing straightaway a thorough training regimen for the astronauts in procedures 

193 
out of it. 55 

Part of the problem faced by Jones, Yardley, and the astronauts in regard to 

human factors and the "inhuman" automatic control systems was the initial position taken by seven members of a study group at the Minneapolis-Honeywell 

Regulator Company in March 1959. Assigned to recommend approaches to 

mission analysis and cockpit layout, this group, led by John W. Senders, James 

Bailey, and Leif Arneson, had reported to McDonnell that since "this vehicle does 

not behave like an airplane . . . . There is no apparent need for a complex, 

highly integrated display configuration at a sacrifice of reliability." 5G Jones studied the Minneapolis-Honeywell reports carefully and said they expressed a "wooden 

man" approach. Assuming pilot safety would be provided for, Jones believed 

more provisions should be made for the pilot to assure mission success. In August, 

Jones and a colleague, David T. Grober, wrote for Yardley a description of the 

quantifiable differences between flying this spacecraft and flying aircraft. They 

admitted: "Primary control is automatic. For vehicle operation, man has been 

added to the system as a redundant component who can assume a number of 

functions at his discretion dependent upon his diagnosis of the state of the system. 

Thus, manual control is secondary." 57 But Jones and Grober pointed to at least 

eight ways in which automation for reliability could interact with the autonomy 

of the astronaut to vary the chances both for pilot safety and for mission success. 

They warned McDonnell's reliability engineers against assuming, as they had in 

their latest formal reliability program given STG, that the reliability of the astronaut is uJ?ity: 

It has been assumed naively by those who are not familiar with the capsule 

that the operation of the systems will not be difficult because of the automatic 

programming of the nonnal mission and because of an assumed simplicity of 

the systems. However, preliminary analysis indicates that the operation of the 

capsule, considering the stringent mission requirements and the physiological 

environment, will be as difficult or probably more difficult than high performance aircraft. A vast number of different potential malfunctions may 

occur in the capsule's systems, and the isolation of these malfunctions can be 

extremely difficult. Mission reliability determinations assume the astronaut 

can detect and operate these systems without error. 

Only three months later Jones read a paper before the American Rocket Society that, while not a reversal of primary and secondary control modes for the 

manned satellite, marked a symbolic shift from automation to monitored automatic 

flight. Man's function in space flight, argued Jones, should now be recognized 

as something more than secondary, if still less than primary: 

194 
capsule that man, beyond his scientific role, is an essential component who can 

add considerably to systems effectiveness when he is given adequate instruments, controls, and is trained. Thus an evolution has occurred ... with 

increased emphasis now on the positive contribution the astronaut can make. 58 

Jones spoke, presumably, of the general attitudes prevailing around McDonnell. 

His fellow psychologist in STG, Robert B. Voas, supported hi5 evaluation. 

Nevertheless, until some Mercury missions were flown automatically to qualify 

the integration of all systems, man would not be allowed to fly one. Of all the 

critical systems in Mercury, therefore, the automatic cCmtrols, a part of which was 

the "autopilot," were most crucial for man-rating the capsule. 

Guidance and control engineers in Project Mercury were often plagued by 

semantic confusions between the different electromechanical systems they designed 

and developed to stabilize, guide, control, or adjust relative motion. Their nomenclature helped confound confusion by the similarity of initials in official use to 

denote their orientation systems: ACS, ASCS, RCS, and RSCS all looked similar 

to men with other concerns, but some evolutionary reasons help explain the 

technical differences behind the initials. ACS, for Attitude Control System, applied specifically only to the Big Joe capsule, becoming a generic term in Mercury 

nomenclature after that launch in September 1959. In its place the redundant 

designation ASCS, for Attitude (or Automatic) Stabilization and Control System, grew up as a name for the autopilot, an airborne electronic computer that 

compared inputs of electronic sensory information with any deviation from preset 

reference points on gyroscopes or with the horizon. Outputs from the autopilot 

could then command small jets called thrusters to spew out small quantities of 

hot gas in order to maintain balance in space. These hydrogen peroxide jets, their 

fuel tanks, plumbing, and valves were called simply the RCS, or Reaction Control 

System.5!l The last of this quartet of initials, RSCS, requires a more thorough 

explanation. 

In August and September 1959, the stabilization controls and drag-braking 

drogue chute were proving troublesome, and everyone in STG knew this. Provisions for the astronaut, or "human black box," in the control loop complicated 

every facet of the system, and yet the pilot had little choice over its operation. 

Robert G. Chilton, Thomas V. Chambers, and other STG controls engineers 

reconsidered the several different ways in which the Mercury capsule was being 

designed to act by chemical reflexes with complete self-control. 

From the very beginning of controls design for a manned ballistic satellite, 

Honeywell had suggested using the same digital electronic system, for simplicity's 

sake, to control all Mercury flights. But this "simple" equipment was unneces195 
weight and oversize manual redundancy, fundamental to the Mercury objective 

of testing man's capability as a pilot in space, was an exceedingly uneconomical 

part of the original design. 

McDonnell and Honeywell controls engineers moved ahead with their development of the digital system while Chilton wrestled with the problem of raising the 

efficiency of the thirsty manual proportional thrusters. A wired jumper from the 

handcontroller to the jets for the ASCS should enable the astronaut to tilt or 

rotate his craft in its traJectory by electrically switching on and off the tiny solenoid valves that supplied hydrogen peroxide gas to the automatic thruster combustion chambers. Because this "fly-by-wire" system completely circumvented 

the autopilot, inserting the astronaut's senses and brain in its stead, it was not 

automatic. Rather, it operated semi-automatically; it would allow the pilot to 

aid or interfere with the automatic adjustment of rotation around his pitch, roll, 

and yaw axes. Thus in the autumn of 1959 the automatic attitude control system was already compromised by the addit'ion of the semi-automatic fly-by-wirc 

feature. 

But this redundancy still seemed inadequate for mission success. Both McDonnell and STG controls engineers proposed various approaches to other attitude 

control systems for the Mercury capsule in the spring and summer, but Logan 

MacMillan resisted all such suggestions, awaiting NASA's formulation of a definite 

policy for judging the urgency of contract change proposals. Every change would 

invite inevitable delays, and the long lead time for a new alternate control system 

(an AASCS!) made MacMillan, Yardley, and Flesh very skeptical of that 

approach.60 

The fresh insight of one of the Canadians in STG's flight controls section, 

Richard R. Carley, helped Chilton to see the need for a second completely independent rate-command orientation system. Together they wrote a compromise 

proposal early in July that served as the midwife for a "rate damping" system for 

stabilization control: 

There is a natural reluctance to relinquish the mechanical linkage to the 

solenoid valves but the redundant fly-by-wire systems offer mechanical simplification with regard to plumbing and valving hydrogen peroxide so the overall 

reliability may not change appreciably. In fact, considering the controlability 

of the capsule as a factor in mission reliability, a net gain should result. Simulation tests indicate that manual control of the capsule attitude during retrograde firing will be a difficult task requiring much practice on the part of 

the pilot. By changing the command function from acceleration to rate, the 

task complexity will be greatly reduced and the developmental effort on display 

and controller characteristics can be reduced accordingly.Hl 

196 
By connecting three more wires from the handcontroller to the three pairs of 

solenoid valves guarding the fuel flow to the manual reaction jets, the designers 

built a bench version of a rate-command control system that utilized the small rate 

gyros formerly supplying the references only for cockpit instruments. For the 

production model, rate command fuel would be taken only from the manual 

supply tank. By the end of October, Chilton's group and Minneapolis-Honeywell had completed preliminary designs of this rate orientation system, now officially sanctioned as contract change No. 61 and called the "RSCS." But the 

difficult electrical circuit for its independent rate logic system was only in the 

breadboard stage: wires had been stretched over the two-dimensional drawings 

as a preliminary test of the circuit designs. 

The manual proportional method of slewing the capsule around required an 

extravagant use of fuel, but the rate mode relegated the manual to a last-ditch 

method of attitude control. Now with "rate command," essentially another 

fly-by-wire system superimposed on the manual reaction controls, the astronaut 

might control precisely his movements in pitch, yaw, and roll by small spurts of 

gas that would tip him up or down, right or left, and over on one side or the 

other. The exact attitude of the capsule at the critical time of retrograde firing 

could be held by this method, and the slow-roll stabilization of the capsule during 

reentry also could be accomplished by this system. Thus the quest for reliability 

led to four different methods of orienting the capsule by the end of 1959. Making 

both the automatic mode (through fly-by-wire provisions) and the manual mode 

(through the rate command, or RSCS) redundantly operable gave the astronaut 

three out of four options. 

McDonnell and STG already were working with nine major subcontractors 

and 667 third-tier vendors, and the effort to man-rate all their products and all 

these subsystems-indeed each part from tiny diodes to the pressure vessel-required thawing out and refreezing the specification control drawings several 

times. When at the beginning of October NASA approved the funds for installation of an explosive side-egress hatch, a trapezoidal observation window, and 

another stabilization and control system, McDonnell engineers had already undertaken these and consequent redesign requirements. This independent advance 

action was evidence of a more advanced approach to the need for concurrent 

development and production. 62 

To save weight without sacrificing reliability, the electronic specialists-like 

all other Mercury design engineers-looked for microminiaturized, solid-state components. But they found less than they hoped. Miniature parts were evolving 

rapidly into microminiaturized parts, but the latter did not have good reliability 

records yet. Collins Radio Company, for example, holding the subcontract for 

197 
of slight but cumulative increments in electrical circuitry weights. Vendors consistently seemed to underestimate the weights of the parts they supplied. At 

the beginning of October the effective capsule weight was estimated at 2859 

pounds. This seemed likely to grow to 3000 pounds unless firm action was taken. 

A special coordination meeting in St. Louis at the beginning of October established 

a weight-reduction diet for the capsule development program and admonished 

NASA "all along the line to decide how much weight reduction should be sought 

and what items of capsule equipment should be sacrificed in order to achieve the 

desired reduction." 64 

At the time STG was considering the RSCS, it was also thinking of eliminating 

the 17.5-pound drogue parachute in the interest of weightsaving. The "fistribbon" drogue stabilizer, six feet in diameter and composed of concentric and 

radial strips of nylon, was being tested at Edwards Air Force Base and at the E

Centro Naval Parachute Test Facility, at subsonic and transonic speeds and at 

altitudes down from 70,000 feet over the Salton Sea. One of the first canopies

released at a speed of mach 1.08 from an F-104 jet fighter at an altitude above 

10 miles, plummeted into denser air whipping, fluttering, and spinning so badly 

that it disintegrated after a minute of this punishment. This test had put a 

special premium on development of the rate stabilization control system. 

The recent decision to substitute a ring-sail for the extended-skirt main 

landing parachute made Gilruth fear that there might not be enough experience 

with big parachutes to detennine whether they had similar bad characteristics. 

Gilruth and Donlan were so unsettled by the chute tests in general that they 

appealed to Washington for an expansion of applied research programs aimed 

at the development of more reliable parachute systems: 

It is apparent that the large load cargo type of parachute is far from as reliable 

as the personnel parachute that most people arc familiar with. Part of this 

lack of reliability is due to unknown scale effects, perhaps. However, it is 

known that a great deal of this loss of reliability is due to the various fixes that 

are employed on large parachutes to attenuate the opening shock. Such fixes 

as extended skirts, slots, reefing, and other devices are designed to cause a parachute to open more slowly. Therefore, it is not surprising that this tendency 

to open slower is also accompanied by a tendency not to open at all. G5 

Continued tests of the main parachute revealed few additional problems, but 

the drogue chute tests were getting worse. By the end of September the problem 

of drogue behavior at relatively high altitudes and barely supersonic speeds was 

so critical that the director of Langley thought it might be "easier to avoid than 

to solve." 6 6 All sorts of alternatives, including a flexible inflatable-wing glider 

proposed by Francis M. Rogallo of Langley, a string of discs trailing like a Chinese 

198 
dynamic stability of the capsule in the rarefied upper atmosphere added a slight 

refinement to the Mercury configuration. To break a possible "freeze" if the 

stable capsule should reenter the atmosphere small end forward, a spring-loaded 

destabilizing flap was installed under the escape pylon. Donlan and Purser asked 

George Low to explain around Washington why this "mousetrap" destabilizing 

flap was added to the antenna canister and why this innovation would require 

further wind tunnel tests: 

The Mercury exit configuration (antenna canister forward without escape 

tower) has been shown to be statically stable at mach numbers greater than 

four. This stability is undesirable because of the possibility of the capsule 

reentering the atmosphere antenna canister forward. Tunnel tests at a mach 

number of six have indicated that a destabilizing flap prevents this undesirable 

stability region. It is therefore necessary to know the effect of this destabilizing 

flap at subsonic and supersonic speeds.G7 

Continued poor performance of the fist-ribbon drogue convinced Faget, Chamberlin, and Yardley by the end· of 1959 that the drogue chute should be eliminated 

altogether, but Gilruth and Purser, among others, saw as yet no cheaper insurance 

and no more workable alternative. 68 The mousetrap destabilization flap and the 

rate stabilization system would help to fill only the mid-portion of the gap in the 

reentry flight profile. It was still a long way down from 100,000 to 10,000 feet 

above sea level-roughly 17 miles as a rock might drop. But by this time, the 

big questions concerning the first part of the reentry profile had been answered 

by the Big Joe flight. 

BIG JOE SHOT 

On the same day, September 9, 1959, both the major preliminary flight test 

of Project Mercury and the final qualification flight test of the operational Atlas 

ICBM occurred, in separate launches from opposite sides of the United States. 

While NASA and STG were focusing their attention on the performance of 

Atlas booster No. 10-D, being launched from Cape Canaveral, most of the men 

behind the Atlas were watching missile No. 12-D being launched from Vandenberg Air Force Base in California. A novitiate crew of Strategic Air Command 

(SAC) officers and men had groomed No. 12-D for this critical test flight southwestward over the Pacific Missile Range. Likewise, neophytes from NASA stood 

by their payload on the Atlas 10-D, awaiting the results of its southeastward flight 

over the Atlantic Missile Range. If all went well this day, the Atlas would have 

proved hself capable both as an operational ICBM and as a launch vehicle for 

a Mercury ballistic flight. Reliability was something else again, but capability 

could be proved with one demonstration. 

199 
experience in launching this rocket. By contrast, NASA personnel were even 

greener than the SAC crew going through the countdown at Vandenberg. NASA 

did not intend to learn to launch its own Atlases, but STG did hope to gain som

expertise for living through its launches. The job of launching Big Joe belonged 

to the Air Force, supported by the Convair/Astronautics team at the Cape

Byron G. McNabb, Travis L. Maloy, Thomas J. O'Malley, C. A. Johnston, and 

others. Charles Mathews, the STG mission director, learned much about hi

operational requirements working with these men on Big Joe. 

Few people outside the military-industrial teams working on the Atlas coul

have known what was happening in the ICBM program in mid-1959. 69 Th

fourth and supposedly standard version of the Atlas ICBM, designated the Atlas D

rapidly supplanted the third development version, called Atlas C, during th

summer of 1959. Earlier A and B models, fired in 1957 and 1958, had phase

through C and into D concurrently. The Air Force had committed itself i

December 1958 to supply NASA with standard Atlas Ds for all Mercury mis

sions. The first installment on this commitment came due in September, at th

same time that the weapon system was to prove itself operational. Since April 14

1959, when the first series-D missile exploded 30 seconds after liftoff, only fou

other Atlas Ds had 'been launched, the second and third of which were partia

failures or partial successes, depending upon one's point of view. To 

In July and August, however, the two successful Atlas-D launchings wer

supplemented by exceptionally encouraging flights of the last two series-C Atlases

Atlas 8-C had flown on July 21, bearing "RVX-2," or the first ablative reentr

nose cone adapted to the Atlas. It was especially welcome to STG officials; bot

the flight and the recovery provided demonstrative evidence to reinforce STG

commitment to the ablation principle for the Mercury heatshield.71 

Joe is a common name, but there was nothing common about the big Atla

missile and the Mercury payload that stood poised upright at launch complex 1

at Cape Canaveral on September 9, 1959. Some had hoped that Big Joe woul

skyrocket on July 4, but the launch date was postponed until mid-August by th

Air Force because the booster did not check out perfectly at first. Then it wa

put off until early September by STG engineers, who were stymied by troubles i

the sophisticated instrumentation and telemetry. Finally, on the evening o

September 8, Atlas 10-D, the sixth of this model to be flight tested, stood on it

launch pad at Cape Canaveral with a replica of the Mercury capsule (minus a

escape tower) at its tip. All NASA waited for the countdown to begin at mid

night. About a fourth of the Space Task Group members were at the Cape fo

the "Atlas ablation test." From this first full-scale, full-throttle simulation of th

reentry problem, every member could expect further task definitions. 

200 
tional heat of reentry, and without dynamic evidence that the frustum

shaped 

spacecraft would actually align itself blunt-end-forward as it pierced the atmosphere, all the rest of the "R and D" invested in Faget's plan would avail little.':: 

The nose-cone-capsule for Big Joe, handcrafted by NASA machinists, had 

no retrorocket package. The inner structure held only a half-size instrumented 

pressure v\:'ssel instead of a pressurized cabin contoured to the outer configuration. 

Built in two segments, the lower half by Lewis and the upper by Langley craftsmen, the main body of the spacecraft replica was fabricated of such relatively 

thin sheets of corrugated Inconel alloy in monocoque construction that the 

appellation "boilerplate" capsule was especially ironic. 73 

For this model of the Mercury payload, more than a hundred thermocouples 

were installed around the capsule skin to register temperatures inside and under 

the heatshield, sides, and afterbody. Jacob Moser and a group of instrumentation specialists from Lewis had developed a multiplex system for transmitting 

data over a single telemetry link from all thermocouples plus 50 other instruments, 

including microphones, pressure gauges, and accelerometers. 

Back in Cleveland, three controls engineers, Harold Gold, Robert R. Miiler, 

and H. Warren Plohr, had designed a "cold-gas" attitude control system, using 

high-pressure nitrogen for fuel. They had worked directly with MinneapolisHoneywell to devise the gyros, logic, and thrusters for the critical about-face 

maneuver after separation. It was essentially unique in its use of cold-gas nitrogen thrusters rather than the "hot-gas" hydrogen peroxide systems that Bell Aerosystems had developed for the X-I5 program.'4 

To STG novices watching the launch preparations, the Atlas and the organization of people it required to get off the ground seemed incredibly complex. 

But they themselves were not well organized even for their sole responsibility with 

the payload. Big Joe had three bosses, all at work under Mathews. Aleck C. 

Bond, the Langley heat-transfer specialist, had accepted from Faget almost a year 

ago the responsibility for the overall mission success. B. Porter Brown, the 

Langley engineer first sent to pave the way for STG at the Cape, acted as STG's 

chief liaison with the Air Force-Convair team. And Scott H. Simpkinson, leading the group of about 45 test-operations people from Lewis, had been living 

with the capsule for Big Joe in a corner of Hangar S since the second week in 

June, when checkout and preflight operations tests began. The NASA-Goddard 

crew still held most of the hangar space in preparation for Vanguard III, their 

culminating launch, scheduled later in September. 7 

,j 

Porter Brown bore the title of NASA Atlas-Mercury Test Coordinator and 

worked-along with NASA Headquarters representative Melvin Gough-under 

nominal direction from the Missile Test Center. To fathom the complexity of 

launch operations and organizations at the Cape required expertise, tact, and 

201 
Sketches by C. C. Johnson of comparative boilerplate Mercury capsules used in Bi

Joe and Little Joe test flights. The sketches, dated February 26, 1959, show th

transition from the original Big Joe capsule design (left) to the one actually use

(center), which in turn would be a precursor of the capsules used in Little Joe launches

drive. Security restrictions were so strict for the Atlas, and agencies and launch 

crews so compartmentaiized, that horizontal or interpersonal communications in 

the lower echelons were virtually nonexistent. Brown had to keep vertica

communications open and establish STG's "need-to-know" at every step.76 

To launch a missile required a stack of documents almost as tall as a gantry

Documents called "preliminary requirements," "operations requirements," "opera

tions directives," "test directives," and innumerable other coordinating catalog

had to be circulated and their orders followed before, during, and after gettin

a rocket off the ground. To active young engineers with a mission, this paper

work could only be frustrating, but Air Force experience had shown the value o

the documentation system in imposing order on a chaotic situation. 77 

Atlas 10-D was programmed to rise, pitch over horizontally to the Atlanti

before it reached its 100-mile peak altitude, then pitch down slightly befor

releasing its corrugated nose cone at a shallow angle barely below the horizontal

202 
sipate the kinetic energy imparted to the capsule by the Atlas. An incandescent 

cauldron of this transformed energy would envelop the capsule like a crucible as 

it penetrated denser air. It was hoped that enough of this heat would be deflected 

by the slip stream and boiled away into the turbulent boundary layer of the 

shock-wave to protect the capsule from vaporization. This flight should simulate 

closely what a man must ride through if he was to live to talk about an Atlasboosted, Mercury-returned orbital flight around Earth. 

About 2: 30 a.m., a 19-minute hold in the countdown was called to investigate 

a peculiar indication from the Burroughs computer that was to guide the launch. 

A malfunction was found in the Azusa impact prediction beacon, a transponder 

in the booster. Since there were several redundant means, including an IBM 

machine that was part of the range safety system, for predicting the impact point, 

the trouble was ignored, the countdown resumed, and liftoff occurred at 

3: 19 a.m.'s 

It was a beautiful launch. The night sky lit up and the beach trembled with 

the roar of the Rocketdyne engines. For the first two minutes everyone was 

elated. Then suddenly oscillograph traces indicated that the two· outboard 

booster engines had not separated from the centerline sustainer engine, 

as they were supposed to do when their fuel was exhausted. Flight controllers 

and test conductors in the blockhouse and control center began to worry about 

"BECO" (or booster engine cutoff) as contradictory signals appeared on their 

panels and computer readout rolls. Apparently all systems within the capsule 

were performing as planned, but the capsule seemed not to do its half-somersault. 

The added weight of the booster engines retarded velocity by 3000 feet per second. 

The Burroughs computer predicted an impact point about 500 miles short. All 

eight reaction control jets seemed to be working perfectly, yet the reentry attitude 

could not be verified before the telemetry blackout occurred as the capsule 

skidded back into the atmosphere.'o No one could ascertain what had happened 

during that ~O-minute flight unless the recovery forces downrange could retrieve 

the capsule and its onboard tape recordings. 

Six ships of Destroyer Flotilla Four began racing uprange at flank speed. 

Patrol and tracking planes started flying their search patterns. Before dawn, 

tracking ships and downrange tracking stations detected the sofar bomb explosion 

underwater, and provided new coordinates for the point of impact. As the sun 

rose over the sea, a Navy P2V Neptune patrol plane, homing in on a sarah beacon 

signal, reported sighting the capsule bobbing in the water. It vectored the nearest 

destroyer, now still over 100 miles away, to the green-dyed area for retrieval. It 

was still too early to tell whether the primary objectives of Big Joe had been 

achieved. But as the morning progressed, more evidence from the range made 

it appear that all telemetry had functioned properly. If the capsule could be 

203 
busily analyzing "quick-look" data that would give more information abou

booster and payload separation performance, the attitude control system, th

internal and external temperature history of the model, noise and vibration level

telemetry and tracking effectiveness, and acceleration and deceleration peaks. 

About seven hours after launch, exultation swept over the Big Joe launch team 

at the Cape when the destroyer Strong reported that she had netted the preciou

capsule intact and secured it on deck. The terrestrial return trip by water an

air required another 12 hours. As soon as the transferring cargo plane arrive

at Patrick Air Force Base, the capsule was loaded onto a dolly, and a police esco

cleared the way for the shrouded trailer bearing the tangible remains of the B

Joe mission along the 15 miles through Cocoa Beach to Cape Canaveral. 

When the capsule arrived back home in Hangar S, about midnight, ever

NASA person at the launch site that day gathered around the capsule for a joyou

autopsy. Gilruth, Faget, Mathews, Bond, Brown, and Simpkinson stood by a

someone dropped the canvas veiling the secret heatshield. The group marvele

at the superb condition of their archtype. Bond ran his fingers over the no

cool glass beads on the face of the ablation shield, noticed that the afterbody wa

barely singed. Brown scratched the white-paint legend "United States" an

found it hardly discolored. Although one of the afterbody recovery eyes wa

welded shut by reentry heating, a piece of masking tape, which Simpkinson ha

allowed to remain, was still intact inside the outer conical shell. A tired bu

happy crew unscrewed the two halves of the inner pressure vessel and handed t

Gilruth a letter that had been sealed inside and signed by 53 people under Mathew

in anticipation of this occasion: 

This note comes to you after being transported into space during the successful 

flight of the "Big Joe" capsule, the first full-scale flight operation associated 

with Project Mercury. The people who have worked on this project hereby 

send you greetings and congratulations. so 

Within a week, data reduction made possible the reconstruction of the infligh

history of Big Joe. As suspected, the outboard engines had failed to stage afte

booster engine cutoff, and the additional weight degraded the Atlas velocity abou

3000 feet per second. This meant the trajectory of the flight path had bee

steeper and slightly lower than planned and that the sustainer engine ha

powered the capsule into a steeper downward course before burnout. Withou

a positive force to divide the two objects in free fall, the capsule had separate

from the booster about 138 seconds late, after all of its high-pressure nitroge

fuel was expended in trying futilely to turn both booster and spacecraft aroun

for reentry. When it finally broke loose from the launch vehicle at an altitud

204 
pg py

The dynamic stability of the capsule configuration was so good that doubt of its 

ability to damp out its entry oscillations was also ended. 

The heat pulse sustained in the actual Big Jo.e trajectory was shorter but considerably more severe than planned. If STG had been testing a beryllium heat 

sink shield, these untoward conditions would not have proved anything. For the 

ablation heatshield, the length of the heat pulse was sufficient to. pro.ve the value 

of the approach. The sequencing, structures, instrumentation, and cooling system had all worked well. The recovery of the capsule inspired so much confidence 

among STG leaders that Big Joe II, the backup launch, was canceled within three 

weeks. 

The Mercury capsule Automatic Stabilization and Control System. 
pristine condition. Bond and Andre J. Meyer were especially pleased with th

large margin for error represented by the thickness of the heatshield remainin

Subsequently, they were able to reduce the thickness and the weight of the shie

by almost one half. 

One note of caution remained in all the jubilation following Big Joe. Leonar

Rabb, the head of Faget's theoretical heat transfer section, signed a memo o

October 7 demanding action to prove that the short heat pulse on Big Joe could b

disregarded. "Calculations indicate," said Rabb, "that the present Mercur

heatshield will not survive a reentry due to natural decay." If retrorockets shou

be lost or become inoperative and if the ablation shield in orbit should have 

sustain and dissipate the long, slow building of the heat pulse over 24 hours or s

catastrophe would result, Rabb warned: 

Under no circumstances should the weight of the heat shield itself be shaved. 

Recent calculations cast doubt on the shield's performance, not only for natural 

decay reentry but for the one retro [rocket instead of three or two] case as 

well. 81 

By the end of October, the working papers giving the results of Big Joe wer

published, and gradually the lessons learned from this shot were incorporated in 

number of major redesign decisions. The features that became standard fo

Project Mercury as a result of Big Joe have been summarized by Aleck Bond: 

(1) In view of the excellent performance of the ablation shield, the back-up 

beryllium heat sink shield was dropped from further consideration for Mercury 

orbital missions. 

(2) The basic heat shield fabrication techniques employed for the Big Joe 

shield were adopted for the Mercury heat shield. 

(3) The detailed temperature measurements made on the Big Joe shield provided for an efficient design thickness for the :Mercury shield. 

(4) The afterbody heat transfer measurements indicated a need for heavier 

external thermal protection than had been provided for the Mercury spacecraft, and as a result the shingles on the conical afterbody were thickened and 

on the cylindrical afterbody the original Rene shingles were replaced with the 

thick beryllium shingles in order to handle the high heating loads in this region. 

* * * 

The ability of the spacecraft to survive the severe test of reentry from nearorbital velocities in spite of its unprecedented release conditions, is certainly 

worthy of note. The heat shield performance was excellent and the results 

indicated that the original design concepts were sound. The spacecraft performance as a freebody reentry vehicle was exceptional. An important characteristic of the Mercury design was demonstrated; that the spacecraft could 

206 
Sept. 9, 1959 

Big Joe was a critical flight in Mercury) combining a test 

of the reentry concept employing the ablating heatshield 

and a test of the as yet only half-tested launch vehicle) 

the Atlas D. At right) Big Joe on the launch pad at Cape 

Canaveral) being groomed for the big event. Below) 

Aleck C. Bond (left), Big Joe project engineer) and 

Scott H. Simpkinson) who had been in charge of capsule 

checkout at the Cape) kept track of their charge during 

the flight. Below right) the slightly singed but gloriously 

intact Big Joe capsule after its retrieval from the Atlantic. 
to stage, performed only marginally and in fact was classed a failure by the A

Force and STL. But across the country, on the Pacific Coast, Atlas 12-D

launched by the SAC crew under the tutelage of Convair/Astronautics and STL

performed as a true ICBM on a 5200-mile flight to its target in the South Pacifi

Immediately thereafter the Air Force announced the Atlas was now operationa

Apparently the force-in-being totaled only the two missiles erected in trainin

gantries at Vandenberg, but the delicate balance of power could not wait for th

buildup of numbers.83' 

LITILE JOE SERIES 

While the results of the Big Joe launch were being studied, a five-man invest

gating committee at Langley was trying to learn why the first Little Joe shot, o

August 21, 1959, had miscarried so badly. Out at Wallops Island that Frida

morning several weeks earlier, the first Little Joe (LJ-l) had sat on its launche

tilted toward the sea, with a full-sized model capsule and escape system on top. I

test mission was to determine how well the escape rocket would function under th

most severe dynamic loading conditions anticipated during a Mercury-Atl

launching. At 35 minutes before launch, evacuation of the area had been pr

ceeding on schedule, and the batteries for the programmer and destruct system 

the test booster were being charged. Suddenly, half an hour before launchtim

an explosive flash and roar startled several photographers and crewmen into divin

for cover. 

No one was injured, but when the smoke cleared it was evident that only th

capsule-and-tower combination had been launched, on a trajectory similar to a

off-the-pad abort. The booster and adapter-clamp ring remained intact on th

launcher. Near apogee, at about 2000 feet, the clamping ring that held tower 

capsule released and the little pyro-rocket for jettisoning the tower fired. 84 

The accident report on LJ-l, issued on September 18, blamed the prematu

firing of the Grand Central escape rocket on an electrical leak, or what missi

engineers were calling "transients," "ghost" voltages or currents, or simply 

"glitch" in a relay circuit. The fault was found in a coil. It had been special

designed as a positive redundancy to protect biological specimens from too rapi

an abort and as a negative redundancy to prevent inadvertent destruction of th

test booster. Again the problem of upgrading the machines to provide safety fo

animal payloads as well as to ensure mission success had created unexpected prob

lems. This first trial of the brand-new Little Joe test booster apparently had bee

too ambitious. Fortunately the momentum of the Little Joe test series was no

disturbed by the debacle of the boilerplate payload on Little Joe No.1. 

208 
t ad odeed. esged pay to aate te escape systeopeatg o

a Mercury-Atlas already in flight, the Little Joe booster also was committed to perform some biological research before fulfilling its primary mission.85 

More by coincidence than by design, the next three Little Joe boosters were 

launched from Wallops Island exactly one month apart in the autumn of 1959. 

Still the primary aerodynamic test objectives remained unfulfilled. But the fourth 

shot, in January 1960, finally worked precisely as planned. STG was satisfied 

that its own pilot safety provisions were viable under the worst possible aerodynamic conditions. The same kind of test on McDonnell's finished product, 

rather than on boilerplate demonstration capsules, perhaps could be made the 

following summer. 

On October 4, 1959, the same booster that had been jilted by the capsule and 

escape rocket in August was finally fired, this time with a double dummy-an 

uninstrumented boilerplate model fitted with an inert escape rocket system. After 

the fiasco of LJ-l, the more modest purpose of this test, which later became known 

as Little Joe 6 (LJ-6), was to prove the "reliability" of the whole booster propulsion cluster. All four Pollux motors, plus four smaller Recruit motors, were set to 

fire in sequence. Little Joe 6, 55 feet tall and weighing 20 tons at liftoff, blasted 

up to a peak altitude barely short of 40 miles; then it was intentionally destroyed 

after two and a half minutes of flight to prove the destruct system. Impact was 

over 70 miles from Wallops Island. All went well.86 

Satisfied that Little Joe had proved itself as a booster, the supervisory team of 

NASA engineers, consisting of John C. Palmer from Wallops, and Roland English, 

James Mayo, Clifford Nelson, Charles McFall of Langley, and William M. Bland 

and Robert O. Piland of the Space Task Group, prepared for a new effort to check 

the correct operation of the abort escape system at maximum loading conditions. 

The region called "max q" (for maximum dynamic pressure) byaerodynamicists 

is the portion of the flight path at which relative speed between the vehicle and 

the atmosphere produces the greatest air resistance on the vehicle. Many variables were involved, but roughly both Little Joe and the Mercury-Atlas were expected to experience dynamic pressures of almost 1000 pounds per square foot at 

an approximate altitude of six miles after about one minute of flight time. 

For the second attempt at this primary mission, Little Joe I-A (LJ-IA) 

needed to propel another dummy capsule and pylon to the max q region. 

Both drogue and main parachute behavior were to be carefully studied on this 

flight. Surprised by the insistent demands from the news media to witness these 

developmental flight tests, STG gave the press a careful enumeration of situations 

that might call for a "hold" or a "scratch" of the shot. 87 

On November 4, 1959, when the second Little Joe booster was successfully 

launched, newspapermen could see nothing wrong. The flight looked straight and 

209 
was too slow was never fully understood. Later analysis showed only that the 

delayed ignition of the escape rocket caused the separation of capsule from booster 

at a pressure only one-tenth of that programmed. 88 Because the next scheduled 

launch of a Little Joe booster was already committed to a test for certain aeromedical objectives and was now in a late stage of preparation, the primary 

aerodynamic test of the escape system was postponed until January, when a third 

try, to be called Little Joe I-B, could be made. 

Back in May, STG had begun planning with the Air Force School of Aviation 

Medicine to include some biological packages in later Little Joe flights. The 

booster designated No. 5 was reserved specifically to qualify all systems in the 

McDonnell capsule, carrying a chimpanzee occupant and escaping from a simulated Atlas explosion at the point of max q. 89 

After the disappointment of Little Joe I-A, Donlan, Bland, and Piland decided 

to pull out the stops on Little Joe 2 and allow the aeromedical specialists to run 

all the experiments they wanted on a high-powered flight. The School of Aviation 

Medicine had made ready a biological package for its primate passenger, a small 

rhesus monkey named "Sam," after his alma mater. In addition to Sam's special 

capsule for rocket flight, the military physicians now prepared barley seeds, rat 

nerve cells, neurospora, tissue cultures, and insect packets to measure the effects 

of primary radiation, changes in appearance and capacity for reproduction, and 

ova and larvae responses to the space environment. 

Little Joe 2 promised to be a spectacular flight if everything went as planned. 

The engineers could see how the capsule escape system would function under 

conditions of high mach number and low dynamic pressure; more important 

technically, they could measure the motions, aerodynamic loads, and aerodynamic 

heating experience of the capsule entering from the intermediate height of about 

70 miles. The Air Force medical specialists might also learn about other things, 

but their chief interest was to see how well Sam himself would withstand weightlessness during the trip. This was also the chief interest of Alan B. Shepard and 

Virgil I. Grissom, who came to see this launch. DO 

On December 4, 1959, just before noon, the third Little Joe, LJ-2, ripped 

through the air under full power and burned out at an altitude of 100,000 feet. 

The tower and capsule separated as planned and the escape rocket gave an 

additional boost, throwing the capsule into a coasting trajectory that reached its 

zenith just short of 280,000 feet, or 53 miles. This peak height was about 100,000 

feet lower than expected because of a serious windage error, so Sam experienced 

only three minutes of weightlessness instead of four. He survived the mild reentry, 

the not-so-mild impact, and six hours of confinement before he was recovered by 

a destroyer and liberated from his inner envelope.91 

210 
LiHle Joe 2 

Dec. 4, 1959 

A launch from Wallops Island was 

a quieter> simpler affair than at the 

Cape. This photo of LJ-2 being 

readied for launch shows the unpretentious gantry and service 

structure. T he live payload for 

the flight> Sam> the rhesus monkey> 

is shown before the flight strapped 

into his miniature replica of the 

Mercury astronaut couch. 
knew that this full-performance test of the Little Joe was not the most crucial case 

for man-rating the Mercury escape system. They still had to prove that a

max q, where everything conspired to produce failure, the escape system could 

be relied upon to save the life of any man who ventured into this region aboard 

an Atlas. 

Later evaluations of Little Joe 2 were somewhat less sanguine. Biologists were 

disappointed: although results were better than on any previous biological space 

flight, they were still not good enough. STG engineers still awaited the more 

crucial test of the escape system under maximum aerodynamic stress. And the 

Mercury managers were disappointed at the way the news media had dramatized 

the animal experiments at the expense of the equally significant demonstration of 

technological progress. D2 

Public information officers John A. Powers of STG and E. Harry Kolcum of 

NASA Headquarters tried to correct the "misplaced emphasis" in the news stories 

before the fourth Little Joe shot, Little Joe I-B, occurred in January. By this 

time, Gilruth wished the press would note "the relatively minor role of this 

particular task in the context of the total Mercury program." 03 But again, to the 

reporters the star of the event was "Miss Sam," the female counterpart to the 

occupant of LJ-2, whose life was at stake and whose nervous system was to be 

tested in psychomotor performance tasks during the short but severe flight. Some 

of the newsmen perhaps knew or divined that several of the astronauts wanted to 

ride one of the next Little Joes into space. 

Finally, on January 21,1960, with the fourth launching of the Little Joe series, 

the escape system performed as planned at the point of max q.94 Propelled by 

two Pollux main motors, Little Joe I-B blasted up to the nominal altitude of 

slightly less than nine miles and attained a maximum velocity slightly over 2000 

miles per hour. Then the escape rocket kicked on the overdrive for an additional 

250 feet in one second to "rescue" the Mercury replica from a simulated booster 

failure at that point. Over a range of 11.5 miles out to sea, Miss Sam, in her 

biopack prepared by medical technicians from Brooks Air Force Base and its 

School of Aviation Medicine, not only survived these severe g loads but also 

performed well (except for a 30-second lapse) at her business of watching for 

the light and pulling the lever. After 8.5 minutes of flight, during which the 

sequence system and capsule landing systems worked perfectly, Miss Sam touched 

down. She was recovered almost immediately by a Marine helicopter, and was 

returned in excellent condition to Wallops Station within 45 minutes after liftoff.95 

For half a minute after the escape rocket fired, the little rhesus monkey had 

been badly shaken up and did not respond to stimuli, but otherwise Miss Sam 

acted the role of the perfectly trained primate automaton throughout the flight. 

212 
munications and pilot comfort. DG 

To this point, the Little Joe series of five actual and attempted flights had 

expended four of the six test boosters North American had made for NASA 

and five prototype capsules made in the Langley shops. The primary test objectives for these solid-fuel-boosted models were an integral part of the development flight program conducted within NASA by the Space Task Group, with 

Langley and Wallops support. Now only two Little Joe boosters remained for the 

qualification flight tests. North American had manufactured seven Little Joe 

airframes, but one of these had been retained at the plant in Downey, California, 

for static loading tests. STG ordered the refurbishment of this seventh airframe 

so as to have three Little Joe boosters for the qualification flight program. The 

success of Little Joe 1-B in January 1960 meant that the next flight, the sixth, to 

be known as LJ-5, would be the first to fly a real Mercury capsule from the 

McDonnell production line. D7 In passing from development flight tests with 

boilerplate models to qualification flight tests with the "real McDonnell" capsule, 

the Space Task Group moved further away from research into development 

and toward operations. 

ONE WORLD NETWORK 

From the beginning of 1959, the United States' first manned space flight 

program was committed to manned ballistic suborbital flights as prerequisite to 

a manned orbital flight, and to a world-wide tracking and communications network as a safeguard for its man in orbit. Both of these distinguishing features 

were means of man-rating its machines. The second began to be implemented 

only in the latter half of 1959, after NASA Headquarters had relieved STG of 

the burden of the network. 

Neither suborbital flight nor the tracking network for Mercury was established 

with any real notion of what the Soviets were doing toward a manned space flight 

program. But that the Soviets were doing something toward this end was made 

perfectly clear by Premier Nikita Khrushchev during his autumn tour of the 

United States. Having presented President Eisenhower with a medallion of the 

Soviet coat-of-arms borne by Lunik II, the first manmade object to hit the Moon, 

Khrushchev visited Hollywood, Iowa cornfields, and the Presidential retreat at 

Camp David. His departure coincided with press announcements that Soviet 

pilots were training for an assault on the cosmos. The first pictures of the back 

of the Moon, made by Lunik IlIon October 4, demonstrated impressive Soviet 

sophistication in guidance, control, and telemetry,. if not in photography.98 

If various American government agencies late in 1959 knew more than the 

public did about the probable speed and direction of the Soviet manned space 

213 
until midDecember did STG learn some of the operational details of Air For(:e 

programs then being conducted on the West Coast. Even the Dyna-Soar program, so heavily influenced by Hartley A. Soule, John W. Becker, and others at 

Langley, seemed at times to be out of reach to Mercury engineers.!)!) 

In the "spirit of Camp David" the seven astronauts themselves proposed an 

exchange of visits and information with their Soviet counterparts, but to no 

avail. Proof that the United States and the Soviet Union could agree was shown 

in the Antarctic Treaty signed by 12 nations, including the two giants, on 

December 1, 1959. In the same spirit only a week later the NASA Administrator offered the services of the Mercury tracking network in support of any 

manned space flight the U.S.S.R. might care to undertake, but this offer also was 

stillborn. So sparse seemed available official information on Soviet manned 

space plans that Paul Purser, as special assistant to Gilruth, assumed an extra duty 

by beginning a scrapbook of published accounts relating to Soviet manned space 

flight plans.loo It would have been "nice to know" in more detail what the 

Soviets were planning and how well they were proceeding, but STG's "need to 

know" was mainly psychological curiosity. Such information, if available, probably would have made little difference to the technological momentum of Project 

Mercury at the end of 1959. The impetus generated for the project by that time 

was truly formidable and still accelerating. 

NASA Headquarters had relieved STG of developing the global range network in the spring of 1959, believing that the Tracking and Ground Instrumentation Unit (TAGIU) at Langley and the communications center at Goddard 

Space Flight Center together could develop radar and radio facilities more 

expeditiously. The wisdom of this assignment would prove itself; the communications network was never a cause for delay in Mercury operational schedules. 

The decision to build an extensive new tracking network girdling the globe had 

derived largely from Langley studies of operational tracking requirements made 

by Edmond C. Buckley, Charles Mathews, Howard C. Kyle, Harry H. Ricker, 

and Clifford H. Nelson in the summer of 1958. Then followed four extensive 

and independent studies by Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Ford, Space 

Electronics, and Radio Corporation of America in the spring of 1959. Many 

interrelated technical, operational, and diplomatic considerations were involved 

in the evolution of the network, with pilot safety and limited capsule battery power 

setting the first standards. 

N ext to manufacturing the capsule itself, the Mercury network was the most 

expensive part of the entire program. But that network represented a capital 

investment in tracking and communications ability that NASA would also use 

effectively for scientific satellites and space probes. The full compass of the 

214 
cury set other basic parameters for the project. Hartley A. Soule, the aeronautical scientist who directed Langley's part of the establishment, made a 

circumnavigation of the Earth to prepare the circumferential path for orbital 

overflights. 101 

When Christopher Kraft spoke to the Society of Experimental Test Pilots 

on October 9, 1959, he explained certain of the major criteria used to choose the 

orbital plane for Mercury and to select ground stations to monitor the man in orbit. 

"Since the first manned orbital flight will be a new type of operation involving 

many new experiences," Kraft said, "it would be desirable to keep the time in 

orbit as short as practical, while at the same time making an orbital flight." 

Emphasizing the necessity to secure an accurate and almost instantaneous determination of the potential orbit before actual insertion, as well as an exact retrofiring 

point and thereby a low-dispersion "footprint," or recovery area, Kraft explained 

how the first manned orbital mission should shoot for three rather than one or two 

orbit~. He also listed four specific reasons why the best orbit inclination to the 

equatorial plane would be 32.5 degrees and the most desirable launching azimuth, 

or direction, would be 73 degrees true: (1) maximum use should be made of 

existing tracking stations and communications facilities; (2) the Atlantic Missile 

Range should be used for both the launching and the planned recovery area; 

(3) the orbital track should pass directly over the continental United States as 

much as possible to maximize unbroken tracking, especially during reentry; and 

(4) the orbital path should be planned to remain over friendly territory and 

temperate climatic zones.102 

These criteria constrained the choice of both Mercury's orbital plane and its 

launching azimuth. East-northeast was an unusual firing direction from Cape 

Canaveral, where ballistic missiles were normally shot southeastward down the 

Atlantic range. Taking the sinusoidal track displaced for each orbit as it would 

look on a Mercator world projection, Soule, Francis B. Smith, and G. Barry 

Graves of Langley, Mathews, Kraft, and Kyle in STG, and many others resolved 

the complex trades between the Atlas booster characteristics, capsule weight limitations, launch safety considerations, suitable recovery areas, existing Defense 

Department tracking and communications networks, and available land for locating instrument stations. Soule and his Tracking Unit at Langley shouldered most 

of the responsibility for the compromises between what should and could be done 

with electronic communications and telemetry to promote pilot safety and ensure 

mISSIOn success. 

While STG delegated such decisions as whether to select sites in Kenya or 

Guadalcanal, where to use C- or S-band radars, and whether to lay a cable or 

build a redundant control center on Bermuda, it kept tight control on all matters 

affecting control of the missions and especially of the decisions on orbital param215 
calculations. Keeping in close touch with STL on the improving Atlas performance characteristics, Mayer's group sought to. establish the ideal "launch window" 

or orbital insertion conditions. Not until May 1960 were these parameters 

established. 103 

John D. Hodge, another Anglo-Canadian, who helped Mathews learn how 

the Defense Department launching and tracking teams o.perated at the Atlantic 

and the Pacific missile ranges, explained how the major compromise on man-rating 

the worldwide network was achieved in 1959. Physicians like Lieutenant Colonel 

David G. Simons, of Project Manhigh fame; Major Stanley C. White, on loan to 

STG from the Air Force; and Colonel George M. Knauf, the staff surgeon at the 

Air Force Missile Test Center, had argued for continuous medical monitoring 

and complete voice and television coverage around the world. Physicist-engineers, 

like Soule, Smith, and Graves, saw these demands as virtually impossible. The 

doctors were forced to retreat when asked what could possibly be do.ne after 

diagnosis had been made on an ailing astronaut in orbit. Twenty minutes would 

be the absolute minimum time required to return him to Earth from orbital 

altitude after retrofiring. "Aeromedical clinicians finally had to agree late in 

1959," said Hodge, "that they could do little if anything to help the astronaut 

until he was recovered." Once in orbit the pilot's safety primarily depended upon 

mISSIOn success. Mission success depended at this stage primarily upon positive 

control over reentry and recovery operations. The ground command and tracking 

systems were consequently more important than complete voice or telemetry 

coverage. 104 

Aside from the tight security surrounding the Atlas ICBM, perhaps the most 

closely guarded operational secret in Project Mercury was the ground control 

command frequencies established at strategic points around the Earth to enable 

flight controllers to retrieve capsule and astronaut from space in case of extreme 

necessity. Unlike the technological secret of the heatshield, this highly reliable 

command system was not classified as an industrial production secret, but rather 

to avoid any possible tampering or sabotage by electronic countermeasures. 105 

Once the specifications for the tracking and ground information systems for 

Project Mercury had been drawn up and distributed at a bidders' briefing on 

May 21, 1959, the Tracking Unit at Langley proceeded to select a prime contractor for the tracking network. In mid-June the organization, membership, 

and pro~edures for a technical evaluation board and source selection panel were 

specified. A month later the evaluation of industrial proposals was completed. 

The Western Electric Company, supplier of the parts and builder of the n,etwork 

for the American Telephone and Telegraph system, won the prime contract to 

build the Mercury network. After NASA sent Western Electric a letter of intent 

216 
, , , 

locations for communications command posts. Much of the traveling Soule did 

himself; he enjoyed both the technical intricacy and the scientific diplomacy o

getting foreign scientists to urge their governments to cooperate for the tracking 

sta tions.lo7 

Meanwhile NASA Headquarters acquired from the National Academy o

Sciences Arnold W. Frutkin, who had had experience during the ICY in dealing 

with the State Department and foreign governments for international coopera

tion in scientific affairs. Beginning in September 1959, Frutkin laid the staff

work basis with the United Kingdom for Mercury tracking stations in Nigeria 

and Zanzibar. Zanzibar and Mexico in particular appeared reluctant to accep

at face value the United States' good-that is, civilian-intentions for Mercury

The President's brother, Milton Eisenhower, personally obtained consent for ful

Mexican cooperation. lOB 

By the end of November, preliminary designs for the Mercury tracking net

work were almost completed and a five-company industrial team was developing 

facilities. Western Electric had subcontracted to the Bendix Corporation for 

the search radars, telemetry equipment, and the unique display consoles for each 

site. Burns and Roe, Inc., took over the engineering and construction of the 

buildings, roads, towers, and other structural facilities at 14 sites. Internationa

Business Machines Corporation installed the computers at Goddard Space Fligh

Center, the Cape, and Bermuda, and supplied programming and operationa

services. Bell Telephone Laboratories, Inc., designed and developed the opera

tions room of the Mercury Control Center at the Cape, and furnished a specia

procedures trainer for flight controllers as well as overall network systems analysis

Eighteen gound stations were chosen for terminals in the communications 

network. Eleven of these sites, equipped with long-range precision radar equipment, would double for the tracking system. Sixteen of the stations were to have 

telemetry receivers, but only 8 of the 18 would be located on military missile 

ranges where existing radar and other facilities could be used. One new station 

(at Corpus Christi, Texas) would have to be established in the United States

Two stations were mobile, located on tracking ships at sea; seven were built in 

foreign countries. In November 1959, the total cost for the system was estimated 

at $41,000,000. The target dates for operational readiness were set as June 1

1960, for suborbital Atlantic missions and as New Year's Day 1961 for worldwide 

operations. 

The tracking and communications network for Project Mercury was a monumental enterprise that spanned three oceans and three continents by means of 

approximately 177,000 miles of hard-line communications circuitry. Although 

217 
in conception and execution, the Mercury tracking and communications network 

fell far short of 1 OO-percent voice contact, telemetry contact, or tracking capability, 

.not to speak of complete television coverage, which some aeromedical designers 

would have included. 109 

Despite NASA's boast about "real-time," or instantaneous, communications, 

th~ historical novelty of the Mercury communications network lay less in the 

temporal than in the spatial dimension. So-called "instantaneous" communications were born in the 19th century with the installation of "speed-of-light" 

wired communications--the telegraph, submarine cables, and the telephone. 

Neither radio nor radiotelephone of the 20th century brought strategic placement of telecommunications installations into such a unified network that the 

time of signals from antipodal sides of the world could be reduced to an "instant." 

Transoceanic telephone conversations between Hong Kong and Houston, for 

example, still delayed responses by enough time to give one the feeling of talking 

to oneself. Synchronous communications satellites supposedly would soon change 

all this, but surface communications used for Mercury operations cost some slight, 

but nonetheless real, time in transmission. The real innovation of the Mercury 

network lay in its combination of extremely rapid communications lines, linked 

and cross-linked around the world, culminating in digital data processing, which 

displayed its results in Florida virtually as soon as computed in Maryland.110 

Only the development of digital electronic computers in recent decades made 

possible quick enough data digestion and display to allow communications engineers to speak of "real-time" presentations for Project Mercury. Telemetry 

grew more sophisticated separately in industrial and military circles until biomedical telemetry became by 1959 a recognized part of the margin of safety 

for manned space flight. But computer technology did not suffer this kind of 

bifurcated development. In fact, commercially sold digital computers were 

ready and actually operating under canvas tents while workmen were laying 

block and brick for the permanent building to surround them. No construction time could be lost if the communications and computing center was to be 

completed at the Goddard Center early in 1960.111 

Harry J. Goett, formerly chief of Ames' Full Scale and Flight Research 

Division, took the reins as director of Goddard in September 1959. He found 

that the nucleus of some 150 Vanguard people had grown to approximately 500 

employees. After Vanguard III finally terminated that program successfully 

on September 18, about one third of Goddard's complement turned to developing the facilities and teamwork for a space operations data control and reduction 

center. Actual direction of all Mercury computer programming was done from 

218 
The worldwide Project Mercury tracking network was designed to provide the ful

range of communications objectives-tracking) data collection) command and control

and voice communication among ground points and with the capsule. If the Mercur

Control Center at Cape Canaveral was the intellect of the Mercury flights) th

Computing and Communications Center at Goddard Space Flight Center) Greenbelt

M d.) was surely the nerve center. It acted as the communications link between th

remote stations and Mercury Control Center. Its two IBM 7090 computers) operatin

in parallel) performed the continuous computation involved in determining powered

flight trajectory parameters) the smoothed present position of the spacecraft) continu

ous prediction of future spacecraft position) and constant data acquisition from al

stations. Finally the computers calculated and transmitted to Mercury Control th

quantities needed for instantaneous board display of the mission situation. 

Langley by J. J. Donegan and H. W. Tindall, Jr., of the Tracking and Ground 

Instrumentation Unit. But in August 1959, John T. Mengel of Goddard con

ferred with Soule; together with Edmond Buckley of NASA Headquarters they 

decided to assign about 14 senior engineers to specific Mercury problems. From 

October 1959 over the next 18 months this Goddard staff tripled in size and then 

doubled again when the Tracking Unit's responsibility and key men were 

transferred to Goddard.1l2 

To raise the reliability of the computers and telemetry used in Project Mercury

redundancy and cybernetics were again incorporated in design. For example

219 
The problem ... is to develop a real-time computer system capable of receiving input arriving at asynchronous times and at different rates of transmission 

with minimum delay. It must be capable of performing mathematical 

computations while input is being received and edited. Simultaneously, it 

must send out information to numerous sites in varied formats and at varied 

speeds without human interventionY3 

For this purpose two IBM 7090 transistorized computers were installed at 

Goddard, in Maryland. Two older model IBM 709 vacuum tube computers, one 

installed for NASA on Bermuda and the other an Air Force "IP" (impact predictor) for the Range Safety Officer at the Cape, were modified to handle a computer logic designed with equivalent alternative programs rather than with the 

usual subroutines. By means of special memory traps and automatic switching, 

the most critical data reduction operations were redundantly programmed into 

the IBM machines to ensure cross-checks on the man-rated machines in orbit. 

Curiously, the difference between the IBM 709s and 7090s, so far as reliability 

was concerned in 1959, was the same difference the Mercury team encountered 

with miniaturization techniques. Although solid-state electronic devices like 

transistors, printed circuits, and molectronic capacitors promised tremendous savings in space, weight, and trouble-free operation, they were as yet so new that 

their reliability was not proved. The two 7090s at Goddard, therefore, were 

necessary redundancies for the heart or brain of the global tracking and target 

acquisition grid. The two independent and separa.te 709s at the Cape and 

Bermuda, amply stocked with spare parts, had the more limited but no less critical 

job of computing whether orbital launch conditions had been met. The two 

new transistorized computers at Goddard should man-rate the worldwide Mercury 

switchboard and data reduction. The older, more reliable vacuum-tube computers in the Mercury launch area should ensure nearly perfect orbital insertion 

conditions before the point of no return.1l4 

That point of no return was first selected as insurance against landing in Africa. 

Later refinements to the "go/ no go" decision point incorporated parameters from 

the standardized atmosphere, better drag coefficients, perturbation theory, preferred recovery areas, the improved Atlas booster, and the heavier Mercury capsule. 

These and many other intertwined considerations made the efforts of man-rating 

the machines for Mercury seem almost as limitless a task as space is a limitless 

continuum. They had the effect of canceling, for the time being, STG's hopes 

for an 18-orbit, or daylong, final Mercury mission. 

By the end of 1959 Project Mercury was well under way on many different 

fronts. The American astronauts, supposedly shifting from academically oriented 

training to practical engineering and operational exercises, were widely known as 

220 
challenging indications that the U.S.S.R. too was training pilots for space fights. 

But the imagination and hopes of the American people were pinned on the seven 

of their own, each of whom had the chance of being the first human being to 

orbit Earth. Publicized in accord with the law and in response to public demand, the plans and progress of Project Mercury were for the most part open 

knowledge. NASA Headquarters was swamped with inquiries of all kinds from 

all sorts of people. The field managers of Mercury had ruefully discovered that 

people, or at least reporters, were more interested in people than machines, so 

they allowed "Shorty" Powers to skew publicity toward machine-rating the men 

rather than man-rating the machines.115 

221 
 

vnnn 
 .......................................................................................................................................................

Machine-Rating the Men 

(JANUARY-JUNE 1960) 

J

UST as the safety of the pilot flying the Mercury mission depended primaril

on the reliability of the boosters, so the overall success of the mission would de

pend primarily on the adaptability of the man inside the capsule. This propos

tion, recognizing man and machine as directly interdependent, had been far from 

evident at the beginning of the project. But by the middle of 1960 the developer

of Mercury had encountered enough troubles with various automatic systems t

dissipate much of their faith in automata. They began to believe that it migh

be simpler to train toward human perfection and safer to teach the operations team 

to act automatically than to try to make electromechanical systems operate fault

lessly. If the gaps left after technologically man-rating the machines could b

filled with techniques learned by machine-rating the men, then lack of experienc

need not jeopardize either the man or the mission. 

Early in 1960 two peerless feats in hydronautics complemented mankind

first infantile steps toward astronautics. Two uncommon vessels named Triest

and Triton, sponsored by the United States Navy, made voyages probing th

plenum of the seas only a year before men became able to venture upward int

the near vacuum. While "space" was being defined popularly as the regio

above the atmosphere and below the ionosphere, man also conquered the aqueou

seven-tenths of Earth's surface space between the atmosphere and the lithospher

for the first time in history. Demonstrating remarkable closed ecological system

and significant integrations of men and machines, the Trieste descended to th

bottom of the deepest known point in the oceans and the Triton "orbited" th

Earth underwater.l 

The Trieste and Triton voyages symbolized an accelerating translation o

science fiction into fact at the beginning of the sixth decade of the 20th century

These voyages not only dramatically demonstrated man's ability to explore an

pioneer new frontiers but they also symbolized some complex interrelationships i

the sociology of science, invention, innovation, and discovery. Project Mercur

likewise promised to exhibit the social energy of a civilization intimately interlocked 

with industrial technology, governmental organization of manpower, and an 

223 
flight neared completion, inverted: what is not natural to man? 

No one doubted at the beginning of 1960 that someone was going upward 

into space shortly, but precisely who, when, where, and even why were highly 

controversial questions. NASA Administrator T. Keith Glennan predicted the 

first Mercury suborbital flight within the year. Soviet spokesmen previewed their 

mid-January rocket tests over the Pacific as a preparation for placing man in 

space. Winds from conflicting opinions expressed by political, military, scientific, 

and industrial critics of American policy regarding space technology began to 

brew some squalls when NASA asked that almost $108 million of its total budget 

request of $802 million be appropriated for manned space flight development in 

fiscal 1961. Whether Mercury would finally cost $250 or $350 million, as was 

now variously estimated, it would still be a small fraction of the cost of the great 

Saturn rocket, not to mention other NASA projects.~ 

While the Eisenhower administration rejected the "space race" image attached 

to Mercury, Congress pressed for a greater sense of urgency, NASA Headquarters 

sought supplemental funds, and the Space Task Group concentrated on reconciling 

schedules with quality control. There was a detente in the cold war until the 

controversial U-2 incident in May 1960. But even during this thaw STG, as 

the technical coaching staff for the prime American contestant, became steadily 

more enmeshed in the confused competition between the United States and the 

Soviet Union to be first with its man in space. While Maxime A. Faget was 

being honored as one of the top 10 young men in government service for his designs 

of the Mercury capsule, couch, and escape concepts, Abe Silverstein stated publicly, "We feel no urgency to move the program unsafely." But the political 

pressure to produce would increase rapidly as 1960 wore on.:l 

At the end of January, Little Joe 1-B finally, with a boilerplate capsule, proved 

the basic aerodynamic viability of the Mercury abort concept. McDonnell Aircraft Corporation's first production hardware~ which happened to be capsule No. 

4, was delivered on demand only half-finished to Langley, where it was fitted with 

instruments like Big Joe's for the first flight to mate the Atlas booster with the 

"real McDonnell" head. As it turned out, the only other flight test for Mercury 

during this half year occurred at Wallops Island on May 9. There and then, 

McDonnell's Mercury capsule No.1, so named because it had been first on the 

assembly line, was yanked by its escape rocket from the beach abort position to 

begin successfully the qualifying flights for the McDonnell capsule. It took only 

14 months to build and deliver this first capsule with its most critical systems 

ready to be qualified for basic technical performance. Meanwhile qualification 

tests in laboratories began in earnest. No mechanisms were more difficult to 

qualify than those most intimately related to the human system. 

224 
life beyond the atmosphere. When man ascends from the bottom of the ocea

of air where life as we know it has evolved, he must stay inside a pressurized ce

of air or die in the vacuum of space. Engineering the environmental cocoon 

provide the basic metabolic needs of man became, through 1959 and 1960, on

of the most complex and critical aspects in Mercury's development. Aristotle

classical anthropocentric elements-earth, water, air, and fire-correspon

roughly to man's need for the gravisphere and atmospheric pressure, for hydratio

and waste disposal, for oxygen to breathe through lungs and skin, and for tem

perature and humidity control. Safety required that these life systems be redu

dant wherever feasible. The oxygen envelope, for instance, should be containe

within the welded walls of the pressure vessel, but in case of leak, puncture, o

blowout, the astronaut would wear a suit that was a second inner casing, ful

capable of life support in a decompressed capsule. 4 

The environmental control system for Mercury, logically divided into th

cabin and suit subsystems, grew directly out of previous aviation experience i

maintaining men and machines at high altitudes. McDonnell had to seal he

metically the pressure vessel within prescribed limits; a subcontractor develope

the dual air-conditioning system. Because the clothing needed for space trave

turned out to be unavailable from the shelves of government issue, another sub

contractor was called upon to make a full-pressure suit that would in effect be 

secondary cabin. 

When McDonnell and STG engineers first considered the problems of th

pressurized cabin, they sought the experience of the foremost company of indus

trial specialists on the subject. AiResearch had grown since the 1930s into th

Manufacturing Division of the Garrett Corporation, the Nation's primary supplie

of the needs of the pressurized flight industry.:> In January 1959 the three group

began to discuss the most realistic design criteria for ambient and partial ga

pressures, air and water regeneration methods, thermostats, and heat exchangers

R. A. Fischer, Edward H. Olling, and Richard C. Nelson of Garrett, Herbert R

Greider, John R. Barton, and Earl A. Reed of McDonnell, and Stanley C. Whit

and Richard S. Johnston of STG were the principal designers of this system. 

While the process of fabricating the pressure-vessel shell by the fusion-weldin

techniques of William Dubusker and his production engineers was cut and trie

on the factory floor, the important question of cabin atmosphere gas compositio

was being debated by physicians and physicists. Should the cabin air and pres

sure imitate "sea level" air mixtures of nitrogen and oxygen, or should the spac

cabin endorse the experience of aviation and use at highest altitude whateve

would guarantee oxygenation? G Stanley White championed the latter position 

forcefully, in response to rather late outside criticism that "shirtsleeve" envlron

225 
sors. Faget explained STG's choice: 

The most important consideration in choice of a single gas atmosphere is reliability of operation. If a mixed gas atmosphere were used, a major increase in 

complexity in the atmospheric control system and in monitoring and display 

instrumentation would have resulted. Furthermore, the use of a mixed gas 

system would have precluded the use of simple mechanical systems for a great 

number of these functions which in itself would have decreased the reliability 

of performance. 7 

Reduced to practice, these designs had evolved into hardware for three spherical oxygen bottles, tested at 7500 pounds per square inch, with simple regulator 

valves, a lithium hydroxide canister to remove carbon dioxide and odors, an 

evaporator heat exchanger (its water would boil around 35 degrees F at a l00-mile 

altitude), and a simple pulsating-sponge water removal system, all to be located 

beneath the astronaut's legs. Blowers, a fan, snorkels, and plumbing were also 

included to make the capsule livable under the extremely diverse conditions existing before, during, and after an orbital mission. The most novel parts of this 

system were the high-pressure oxygen bottles, the use of lithium hydroxide, and 

the "sponge squeezer" to collect perspiration and respiration water vapor from 

the cabin atmosphere. Cleanliness in the manufacture of these components was 

so important that AiResearch built the first "surgery," or "white room," for Mercuryfabrication in the summer of 1959.8 

McDonnell and AiResearch engineers consulted the voluminous literature on 

aeromedicine before imposing STG's specific requirements on top of the state of 

their art. One of the best independent guides to that state was a report prepared 

in mid-1959 by A. B. Thompson of Chance Vought Astronautics, entitled "Physiological and Psychological Considerations for Manned Space Flight." Thompson 

compiled a consensus on environmental parameters derived from a wide number 

of sources; then he presented these factors systematically in the order of their 

occurrence on a typical orbital mission. Concerning the internal atmospheric 

environment, he drew heavily from submarine, as well as aviation, practice and 

expressed particular concern over abnormal toxicities peculiar to space conditions. 

Regarding temperature tolerance, Thompson wrote: 

Man can exist and carry out simple tasks in envirorunental temperatures from 

- 40° to 140° if suitable clothing is worn for the low, and if humidity is kept at 

30-50% for the high. Time of exposure to high temperatures should be well 

below man's tolerance limits. Up to 160°F can be withstood for 20 minutes. 

Such temperature highs are possible at reentry into atmosphere. Insulation, 

double walls, cabin temperature and atmosphere cooling should limit the heat 

of cabin to less than 140°F even when skin temperature of the vehicle is much 

higher. 9 

226 
g

py p

hour for one man's average heat production rate over 28 hours, and an ambien

pressure of 5 pounds per square inch circulating through the cabin, with a breath

able supply of oxygen at the partial pressure of 3.8 pounds. An assumed oxygen 

consumption rate of 500 cubic centimeters per minute allowed a slight margin fo

suit leakage. Setting the average rate of perspiratory and respiratory water pro

duction at 6 pounds per day dictated the weight and size of their system's hardware

Particularly knotty for the development of the active air-conditioning system 

and the passive insulation to control the cabin temperature was a problem tha

Barton described in terms of applied thermodynamics: 

Studies of launch, orbit and reentry heating effects disclosed that the insulation 

requirements for the cabin side-walls for the orbit and reentry phases were 

diametrically opposed. In orbit it is desirable to lose heat from the side-walls 

and during reentry it is necessary to prevent the entry of heat. The reentry 

phase, being more critical, dictated the side-wall insulation. In orbit, the insulation becomes an almost perfect heat barrier and dictates that the cabin 

cooling be primarily accomplished by the cabin heat exchanger.Io 

At the end of July 1959, Barton and Frank G. Morgan, Jr., met with 18 STG 

engineers, including all the astronauts, to describe the basic designs and develop

mental problems, especially leaky instrumentation fittings, for the system now 

known as "the ECS." Faget, White, William K. Douglas, William S. Augerson

and Robert B. Voas, and the ECS systems engineers, Richard Johnston, Frank 

H. Samonski, and Morton SchIer, all warned that the design parameters were 

set too low. They demanded larger margins of at least 1000 British thermal llnits 

per hour for astronaut heat generation, at least 7 pounds per day assumed water 

production, and certainly no less oxygen pressure in the suit than in the cabin.l

Greider and Barton warned the astronauts to learn early and thoroughly the 

symptoms of hypoxia in themselves so they could take action soon enough to ensure 

an emergency oxygen supply. Otherwise probe sensors of some sort in the nostrils 

or the lungs might be necessary. 

McDonnell hurried the building of a "man-rating" environmental system tes

chamber through September 1959, so that a reliability test program for each subsystem could be conducted, complete systems tests could be scheduled, and astronaut familiarization training could begin as soon as possible. By the end of the 

month, Gilbert B. North, as McDonnell's test astronaut, had endured so many 

failures or inadequacies in the bench testing that STG sought the aid of physiologists 

from Duke University School of Medicine and from the Navy Air Crew Equipment 

Laboratory in Philadelphia to help speed the man-rating of the environmental 

control system. At the end of January 1960, neither the cabin nor the suit environmental control system had passed its test to operate as designed for 28 hours. 

227 
subsystems continued troublesome through 1960. Extensive testing at AiResearch 

and intensive manned tests at McDonnell beginning in June slowly eradicated 

mmt of the "bugs" plaguing the reliability of the environmental control system. 

A robot "crewman simulator," designed primarily by Charles F. Jahn and Eugene 

Wulfkehler at McDonnell, served to calibrate the physical parameters for average 

human inputs and outputs to this closed ecological system. Then, too, Gilbert 

North and Herbert Greider learned to outwit the peculiarities of the mechanisms 

to avoid hypoxia, dysbarism, and hyperventilation. The initial manned tests of 

the ECS hardware were endured by McDonnell volunteers; occasionally the 

Mercury astronauts would observe. Gas analysis problems delayed the accumulation of reliability records and the verification of certain operationai procedures, 

such as ground purge and ground cooling, until early 1961.13 

SUITING Up FOR SPACE 

The pressure suit for Project Mercury was designed and first developed during 

1959 as a compromise between the requirements for flexibility and adaptability. 

Learning to live and move within aluminum-coated nylon and rubber garments, 

pressurized at five pounds per square inch, was like trying to adapt to life within 

a pneumatic tire. Led by Walter M. Schirra, J r., whose speciality assignment 

this was, the astronauts literally wrestled with the most elementary problem in 

becoming machine-rated-wearing the suit. 

Back in February 1959, Maxime Faget and Stanley White became convinced 

that the so-called "pressure" suits being used by Air Force and Navy test pilots 

were rather "high-pressure" and partially anti-g flying suits. Ever since 1947 

the Air Force and the Navy, by mutal agreement, had specialized in developing 

partial-pressure and full-pressure flying suits, respectively, but a decade later 

neither type was quite satisfactory for the newest definition of extreme altitude 

protection. Such suits would require extensive modifications, particularly in 

their air circulation systems, to meet the needs of the Mercury space pilots. The 

first suit conference on January 29, 1959, attended by more than 40 experts in the 

art of tailoring for men engaged in high-altitude flying, had recommended an 

extensive evaluation program. 14 Through the spring three primary competitorsthe David Clark Company of Worcester, Massachusetts (a prime supplier for 

Air Force pressure suits), the International Latex Corporation of Dover, Delaware 

(a bidder on a number of government contracts involving rubberized material), 

and the B. F. Goodrich Company of Akron, Ohio (suppliers of most of the 

pressure suits used by the Navy )-competed to provide by the first of June their 

best products for a series of evaluation tests. 

228 
Few systems in the Mercury program 

were modified as frequently or as 

drastically as the space suit. Shown 

here are an early model worn by 

Slayton in 1960 (above) and the 

end-of-Mercury model worn by 

Cooper at the time of his flight in 

May 1963 (right). Cooper is followed by suit technician Al Rochford. 
predictably the Air FDrce favDred the Clark suit and the Navy the GDDdrich 

suit. After an evaluatiDn cDnference Dn July 15 at Langley, the chainnan, 

Richard JDhnstDn, infDnned all parties Df STG's decisiDn to. wDrk with bDth the 

Clark and the GDDdrich cDmpanies fDr several mDre mDnths to allDw further concurrent develDpment and evaluatiDn Df variDus cDmbinatiDns of suits and ventilatiDn systems.) '; By the end Df August, William AugersDn and Lee N. McMilliDn 

of STG recDmmended that "the suit should not be expected to cope with all the 

deficiencies Df the Mercury capsule." The close interface between pressure suit 

and envirDnmental cDntrDI system caused enDugh prDblems to. delay the fDrmulatiDn Df suit specifications until October, but GDDdrich was awarded the prime 

cDntract fDr the Mercury space suit Dn July 22, 1959.1G 

One Df the mDst seniDr emplDyees Df the Goodrich CDmpany was Russell M. 

CDlley. In 1933, Wiley PDst returned frDm the first solo. flight around the 

wDrld and wanted some kind Df rubber suit that would enable him to. fly his 

famDus aircraft Winnie Mae abDve the recDrd 47 ,OOO-fDot altitude. Colley had 

designed an aluminum helmet resembling those used by marine divers and had 

stitched tDgether Dn his wife's sewing machine the first crude space suit. The 

next year CDlley and his cDmpany had designed and develDped a mDre flexible 

flying suit fDr Wiley PDSt, with an Dff-center face plate to. accDmmDdate PDSt'S Dneeyed visiDn. In 1952, CDlley had designed and helped develDp swivel jDints Df 

air-tight bearings and fluted fittings fDr pressure suits fabricated by GDodrich fDr 

the Naval Bureau of Aeronautics. In 1959, Colley, alDng with Carl F. Effler, 

D. Ewing, and Dther GODdrich employees, was instrumental in mDdifying the 

famDus Navy Mark IV pressure suit fDr NASA's needs in Drbital flight. 

AlthDugh the decisiDn to. let the capsule itself prDvide primary protectiDn 

minimized the difference between cDrseted, pressurized g suits and a "space suit" 

for PrDject Mercury, the redundant suit envirDnmental cDntrDI system required 

cDmplicated mDdificatiDns and cDntinual refittings. 

The Task Group had discovered during 1959 that each Mercury capsule 

wDuld have to. be specially tailDred to. its own mission Dbjectives. Pressure suits 

also. were designed individually accDrding to. use-SDme fDr training, Dthers fDr 

evaluatiDn and develDpment. Thirteen DperatiDnal research suits first were ordered 

to fit astrDnauts Schirra and Glenn, their flight surgeDn DDuglas, the twins Gilbert 

and Warren J. North, at McDDnnell and NASA Headquarters, respectively, and 

Dther astrDnauts and engineers to. be specified later. A secDnd order Df eight 

suits supposedly wDuld represent the final cDnfiguratiDn and provide adequate 

prDtectiDn fDr all flight cDnditiDns in the Mercury program. 

The three major parts Df the space suit-the tDrsD cDveralls, the helmet, and 

the gloves-were fabricated by techniques and procedures similar to. thDse already 

230 
ing through the exhaust valve located in the right cheek area. This system is 

known as the "closed" or "single gas" system and utilized one air source for 

ventilation as well as breathing. This concept, which is desirable in space missions, permits simplicity of design and minimum weight of the ventilation and 

respiration equipmentY 

According to Lee McMillion of STG's Life Systems Branch, the Big Joe 

reentry heating test in September 1959 allDwed the developers Df the pressure suit 

to remove much of the insulatiDn previDusly thought necessary. This imprDved 

sDmewhat the mDbility of the astrDnaut under full pressurization. By the end 

Df the year McMillion, CDlley, Schirra, and Glenn A. Shewmake, STG's "tailor," 

chose tD modify the suit to facilitate mobility in the capsule rather than repattern 

for a mDre generally mobile suit. Schirra had felt many pressure points and was 

severely constricted in recent tests. His discDmfort was traced to the design conservatism that had accepted the g suit and Dxygen mask concepts used for the 

Navy Mark IV and Air Force X-15 flying suits. FurthermDre, each time these 

prDtotype space suits were pressurized and WDrn, they stretched out of shape.18 

ThroughDut the spring of 1960, fittings and tests with new textiles, different 

materials, and Dther human mDdels continued until they finally solved the stretching problem. In mid-March a cDmmittee of eight members from STG, McDonnell, the Navy, and GDDdrich decided on the final design features fDr the Mercury 

space suits. All kinds of minor troubles with zippers, the visDr, the segmented 

shDulder, lacings, straps, snaps, seams, valves, underwear, gloves, microphDnes, 

and neck dams continued. But after a "gripe sessiDn" in mid-May 1960, the 

astronauts and their tailors essentially agreed on what the well-dressed man 

should wear intD space. 19 

During an orbital flight, certain physiolDgical limitations were expected to 

establish the requirements fDr matching man and machine in one smoothly functioning system. 20 In the area of noise and vibratiDn, for example, research during 

the 1950s had led to the cDnclusion that 140 decibels, in the broad spectrum 

between 100 and 12,000 cycles per second, was the most that man could stand 

fDr duratiDns of fDur Dr five seconds. Acceleration tDlerances were rising, thanks 

to knowledge gained by centrifuge and rDcket sled tests, but above 6 g pilots 

cDuld breathe only by forcing abdominal constrictiDn and could move effectively 

Dnly their hands and fingers. An Dxygen pressure inside the lungs corresponding 

to that Df 100 millimeters of fluid mercury was judged necessary tD preclude any 

symptDm Df hypoxia. TD guard against the danger of "bends" (caisson disease 

or dysbarism), the cabin pressure shDuld not be more than twice the suit emergency pressure of 180 millimeters of mercury. ND mDre than two percent Df 

carbon dioxide by vDlume at sea level should be permitted. 21 Other limitations, 

including extremes Df temperature, humidity, radiatiDn, and accumulating toxic 

231 
diagnosing malfunctions. 22 

During the fifties academic and medical studies in sensory deprivation 

made an important, if indirect, contribution to the building of the spacecraft 2.nd 

the training of the astronauts. Made notorious by the experience of American 

prisoners of war who had been isolated and "brainwashed" in North Korean 

prison cells, the effects of isolation were attacked on many fronts. At McGill 

University, in Canada, at the University of Rochester in New York, and at the 

National Institute of Mental Health in Bethesda, Maryland, famous sensory 

deprivation experiments reduced all physical stimuli to near zero. Suspending people in water of body temperature in blacked-out, soundproof rooms at 

Bethesda revealed that normal men, regardless of their motivations, could hardly 

stay both conscious and sane if deprived of all sensory stimuli beyond three hours. 

Physicians and psychiatrists were warning in 1956 and 1957 that 

if one is alone enough and at levels of human and physical stimulation low 

enough, the human mind turns inward and projects outward its own contents 

and processes .... Man's mental state is dependent on adequate perceptual 

contact with the outside world .... Isolation produces an intense desire for 

extrinsic sensory stimuli and bodily motion, increased suggestibility, impairment 

of organized thinking, oppression and depression, and in extreme cases, hallucinations, delusions, and confusion. 23 

Such background studies strengthened aeromedical demands, originating outside 

NASA and STG, for continuous communications between the ground and an 

orbiting man, for increasing the number of meaningful cues to be given the man 

in space, and for accenting significant tasks to be performed by the man inside the 

capsule. There was room for controversy here, but STG and NASA believed 

the hypothetical risks did not justify the very large outlay of money, men, and 

time that a continuous communication network would have required. 

If outside advice of this type was not always taken, there was still a conscious 

effort to solicit it. One of the most useful means of dialogue was the presenting 

of papers at meetings of professional societies. The size, lead time, and innovating 

nature of Project Mercury, together with the impetus from NASA's open information policy, all reinforced the normal professional obligation to inform and 

meet the judgment of one's colleagues. Thus it was that, on January 25, 1960, 

several leading engineers from the Space Task Group were in New York for 

the annual meeting of the Institute of Aeronautical Sciences and presented papers 

reviewing the scope and recent results of their research and development program. 24 In one of these, Charles W. Mathews set forth the operational plans 

for the orbital mission. He did not mention the role of the pilot until the end 

232 
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valve 
 

Primary Suil oxygen 

I'\.:) sampler pressure .pressu re 

V..J Emergency O 2 regulator Iransducer 

V..J rale valve 

Environmental Control System. 
gency procedures, activate escape system if necessary, and deploy landing para

chute if required. Anyone of these activities could conceivably save the mission. 

The degree of control over his own destiny that the astronaut might hav

during the first orbital flights steadily increased throughout 1959 by virtue of th

development of two new semi-automatic control systems: fly-by-wire, interpose

in the automatic stabilization and control system (ASCS), and the rate comman

system (rate stabilization control system, or RSCS), superimposed on the manua

proportional control system. Further elaboration and sophistication of the hard

ware took account of man's flexibility by providing for the use of more than on

system at a time. In addition to the "last resort," or manual-proportional, metho

of attitude control, other uses of the astronaut as a source of mechanical powe

were being incorporated to the mutual advantage of reliability and flexibility

Turnkey handles and pull rings were added to duplicate virtually every automati

function of the mission sequence. 

In April 1960, Edward R. Jones, the chief psychologist at McDonnell, feelin

that a vigorous offense is the best defense, argued in public that man in th

Mercury capsule not only could act as an observer as well as the observed bu

should be considered an integral part of the system to increase the probability o

mISSIOn success. Having just completed extensive studies of man's vision from 

the new centerline window, Jones supervised studies of other expected sensation

during the Mercury orbital flight. 26 As the hardware and manned capsul

systems tests progressed, Jones had more reason for his optimism abou

man's ability to perform effectively in space, once his life-support requirement

were met. Concerning higher mental processes, Jones, speaking in a symposium 

at the Iowa Academy of Science, where James A. Van Allen represented th

instrumentalists and John Paul Stapp represented the experimental physicians

maintained his positive approach: 

Most of the astronaut's tasks will involve complex mental activity even though 

some may be on a near reflex level as a result of constant practice. It is not 

expected that impairment of these functions will occur under normal vehicle 

operation. Stress and an abnormal atmospheric composition, if present, could 

cause some impairment of the higher mental functions. 

It should be apparent that the training of the astronaut in the operation of 

the space vehicle will be critical. Much of the physiological training and 

conditioning will be given on a part task basis in human centrifuges, and pressure and heat chambers. The operation of the vehicle can be practiced over 

and over again in a capsule simulator ... built for Mercury. Overlearning 

far beyond the point that apparent progress stops seems to be the best guarantee 

that the astronaut will have developed response patterns that are least apt to 

deteriorate under the stresses of orbital flight. 27 

234 
STG's progress. After a welcoming general briefing by Paul E. Purser, Alan B. 

Kehlet delivered their first lecture on April 29, explaining the configuration and 

the escape system. Following two weeks of such lectures, the group began to visit 

contractor facilities for familiarization with mockups, hardware, and manufacturing processes. They went to the launch site at Cape Canaveral. At various 

military and medical centers, each man learned to know himself still better 

through training sessions in the pressure suit, in heat chambers, in heavy concentrations of carbon dioxide, and in parabolic flying. By July, Robert Voas, the 

astronauts' training officer, had prepared tentative curricula and schedules; during 

unscheduled times, each man was expected each week to fly for three hours, to 

spend six hours on his specialty area, and to exercise at least four hours in athletics. 

The primitive jury-rigged air-bearing platform trainer also was ridden by each 

astronaut for two hours per week at first. 

During August 1959, each man spent approximately two weeks at Johnsville 

riding the centrifuge in "closeloop" (i.e., with man in the control circuit) simulation of the exit and reentry profiles. In September each man spent a week at 

McDonnell, another at the Cape for the Big Joe shot, and another at the Goodrich 

plant in Akron being fitted for his pressure suit. And in October 1959, the seven 

pilots, by now reluctant celebrities, traveled to Edwards and Vandenberg Air 

Force Bases, to the AiResearch and Convair factories, and to the Naval School of 

Aviation Medicine at Pensacola for different kinds of centrifuge runs and for 

training in survival, disorientation, and communications. 28 

Although everyone who read the news or looked at Life magazine knew that 

the Mercury astronauts had been assigned specialty areas befitting their profession 

as engineering test pilots, few could see the logic of those assignments. 29 M. Scott 

Carpenter accepted responsibility for communications and navigation because as 

a Navy lieutenant he had had special training in airborne electronics and celestial 

pathfinding. Virgil I. Grissom, who had earned a degree in mechanical engineering from Purdue University in 1950, became the expert for the group on the 

complicated electromechanical, automatic, and manual attitude-control systems. 

The senior man in age and date of rank, John H. Glenn, Jr., had the most experience in flying varieties of aircraft and could therefore make the best contribution 

to c9ckpit layout. Walter M. Schirra, Jr., born to a flying family and a graduate 

of the Naval Academy, took a special interest in life-support systems and the 

pressure suits. Alan B. Shepard, Jr., like Carpenter and Schirra, had the background training of the naval flier for specializing in tracking and recovery operations. L. Gordon Cooper, Jr., and Donald K. Slayton, both Air Force captains, 

accepted the jobs of astronaut liaison with the developers of the Redstone and the 

235 
Just as they did as military tes

pilots before they joined the M ercury program, each astronaut felt 

his first responsibility to be that of 

the engineer-test pilot responsible 

for knowing his spacecraft and its 

equipment so well that he could 

quickly and with certainty evaluate its performance. In these 

photos, Cooper (left) performs an 

engineering check on a spacecraft 

and Schirra (below) inspects a 

hatch in white room at the M cDonnell Aircraft Corp. plant. 
degree in aeronautical engineering from the University of Minnesota and having 

worked for two years with the Boeing Company in Seattle, was best fitted to report 

on the progress of the Atlas booster at Convair/Astronautics. 

The astronauts' specialty assignments had some direct effect on the redesign of 

the Mercury suit, cockpit layout, and capsule hatch and window systems. More 

importantly, the assignments kept the crew informed in depth on the problems and 

progress in major areas of concern to all members. Carpenter and Shepard kept 

tabs on the progress of the Tracking Unit at Langley and of the Goddard Space 

Flight Center in preparing to operate the network. While Carpenter monitored 

the development of onboard navigation equipment, such as the Earth-path 

indicator and starfinder charts, Shepard paid special attention to recovery at sea 

and to problems of egress from the capsule and survival on Earth in inhospitable 

environments. Grissom studied the electromechanical worries of Robert G. Chilton, Thomas V. Chambers, and other controls engineers. Schirra worked closely 

with Richard Johnston and John Barton on the environmental system, and with 

Lee McMillion, Gilbert North, and the Goodrich people in preliminary fittings 

of the pressure suit. Cooper and Slayton spent much of their time traveling to 

Huntsville and southern California, respectively, attending meetings and offering 

suggestions from the pilot's viewpoint on how best to mate a manned capsule with 

the Redstone and Atlas missiles. Glenn, meanwhile, paid special attention to 

optimizing the cockpit and improving simulation training. 30 

Within months after joining the Space Task Group, the more eager than 

anxious astronauts found themselves barraged by questions regarding their 

emotional feelings about being catapulted into orbit. In answer to one such set 

of questions, posed in an author's questionnaire for a high-school textbook, Schirra 

perfunctorily replied that it was only natural for a test pilot to want to participate 

in the most advanced fonn of manned vehicular travel. Schirra's desire to "go 

higher, farther, and faster" than previously had been possible was to him neither 

mysterious nor worthy of introspection; it was simply the professional commitment 

of them all and of STG to want to expand the test pilot's "envelope." 31 

Partly because of this kind of natural public interest and partly because the 

civilian space agency had a statutory mandate to conduct educational publicity, 

NASA Headquarters, after investigation and decision, encouraged the astronauts 

to stay together and to accept the fringe benefits of a single private-enterprise 

publishing offer arranged in outline even before their selection. This precluded 

eventual competitive bidding for individual story rights. On August 5, 1959, 

the astronauts sold their "personal stories" to the highest bidder, Time-Life, Inc., 

for $500,000, an amount to be equally divided regardless of who might be chosen 

first to fly in space. This money was to be paid in installments throughout the 

program. The astronauts' wives also subscribed to the contract. Defense De237 
A public furor, nevertheless, arose in the press over these exclusive rights 

publish the memoirs of the seven. Few other peripheral policy decisions regardin

Project Mercury were to become so controversial in the long run. As the waitin

period before an astronaut flew in space stretched on, public interest grew; th

competition among newsmen and media increased; the line between personal an

public domains blurred. NASA and STG were forced to contend with no sma

amount of adverse and even spiteful publicity from indignant correspondents wh

were not of the favored few. Warren North, two days after this contract w

signed, advised Silverstein about it and warned of other impending difficultie

including a loss of privacy to a degree the astronauts might not have anticipated. 

The agreement, arranged without fee by C. Leo DeOrsey, a prominent Was

ington lawyer and sportsman, assigned all magazine and book rights to Tim

Life, Inc., for "non-official" feature stories on the astronauts and their familie

Since it was cleared by NASA's legal and public relations chiefs, John Johnson an

Walter T. Bonney, the astronaut'; and the Task Group had to adapt themselv

to this policy. John A. "Shorty" Powers, at least, was relieved of one headache an

was not displeased with the arrangements. 34 

Although Robert Voas at first had designed an orderly curriculum for th

astronauts, their activities soon became so diverse and the group separated o

sorties for their specialties so often that the academic approach became impossibl

The coordination of astronaut training became his chief duty. Voas gathere

and trained a team of training specialists. George C. Guthrie had respon

sibility for improving training aids, procedures, and simulation devices; Raymon

G. Zedekar arranged the lecture series; Stanley Faber conducted the four-phas

centrifuge training program on the Johnsville "wheel." By the end of 195

each of the astronauts had trained for about 10 hours riding the gondola 

Johnsville. Voas, meanwhile, turned his attention to an extensive astronau

task analysis, which paralleled the work of Edward Jones at McDonnel1. 3 :; Ju

before Christmas 1959, John Glenn privately described his training experience

in a letter to a friend and fellow pilot: 

This past 8 or 9 months has really been a hectic program, to say the least, 

and by far the most interesting thing in which I have ever taken part, outside 

of combat. 

Following our selection in April, we were assigned to the Space Task Group 

portion of NASA at Langley Field, and that is where we are based when not 

traveling. The way it has worked out, we have spent so much time on the 

road that Langley has amounted to a spot to come back to get clean skivvies 

and shirts and that's about all. We have had additional sessions at Wright 

Field in which we did heat chamber, pressure chamber, and centrifuge work 

and spent a couple of weeks this fall doing additional centrifuge work up at 

238 
took just about every bit of strength and technique you could muster to retam 

consciousness. I found there was quite a bit more technique involved in taking this kind of g than we had thought. Our tolerances from beginning to end 

of runs during the period we worked up there went up considerably as we each 

developed our own technique for taking this high g. A few runs a day like that 

can really get to you. Some other stuff we did up there involved what we call 

tumble runs or going from a plus g in two seconds to a minus g and the most we 

did on this was in going from a plus 9 g to a minus 9 g. Obviously a delta of 

18.... ,,yhen we first talked about doing this, I didn't think it would be 

possible but in doing a careful buildup we happily discovered that this was not 

so horrible. At plus 9 g to minus 9 g we were bouncing around a bit but it was 

quite tolerable. 

* * * 

We just finished an interesting activity out at Edwards AFB doing some 

weightless flying in the F-IOO. This was in the two-place F-IOO so that we 

could ride in the rear seat and try various things such as eating and drinking 

and mechanical procedures while going through the approximately 60 second 

ballistic parabola that you make with a TF-100. That started at about 40,000 

feet, 30 degrees dive to 25,000, picking up about 1.3 to 1.4 mach number, pull 

out and get headed up hill again at 25,000 and about a 50 degree or 60degree 

climb angle, at which point they get a zero-g parabola over the top to about 60 

degrees downhill. 

You can accomplish quite a bit in the full minute in those conditions and 

contrary to this being a problem, I think I have finally found the element in 

which I belong. We have done a little previous work floating around in the 

cabin of the C-131 they used at Wright Field. That is even more fun yet, 

because you are not strapped down and can float around in the cabin doing 

flips, walk on the ceiling or just come floating the full length of the cabin while 

going through the approximately 15 seconds of weightlessness that they can 

maintain on their shorter parabola. That was a real ball and we get some 

more sessions with this machine sometime after the first of the ycar. 3G 

Seasoned rocket experts, especially in Wemher von Braun's group, were worried 

early in the program over the human tolerance to noise and vibration at the tip of 

a missile leaving Earth's atmosphere. Biomedical experimentation during the 

fifties had almost, but not quite, confirmed that a man literally can be shaken 

to death by sympathetic vibrations induced through various harmonics upon 

certain organs. Noone was yet sure whether the 140-decibel noise limit would 

be attenuated enough by the double-walled capsule and the astronaut's helmet 

to keep him comfortable and able to communicate.37 In February 1960, a representative from the Army Ballistic Missile Agency at Huntsville proposed a 

training project in which astronauts would experience controlled noise and vibration inside a simulated Mercury capsule mounted above a Jupiter engine being 

static-fired. The astronauts' personal physician, William Douglas, objected vehemently and saved the astronauts from this ordeal. Internal acoustic measure239 
of the wind tunnels around Langley. Carpenter, supported by the environmen

control system in capsule No.3, sat through these static noise tests and prov

that communications remained satisfactory in spite of extremely loud outsi

noises.3s 

Other carefully controlled trials by ordeal were arranged to teach the astr

nauts how best to survive for a time anywhere on Earth beneath their plann

orbital track. During the spring and summer of 1960, capsule egress trainin

and water, desert, and jungle survival courses were instituted for their benef

So exotic and picturesque were these excursions that publicity photographs flood

the news media. 39 

Serious consideration was not given to the use of a personal parachute, wi

which the astronaut might bailout from his explosive side hatch, until May 196

when Lee McMillion and Alan Shepard suggested the idea for the Mercur

Redstone flights at least. The exploits of the Air Force balloonist, Captain Josep

W. Kittinger, Jr., who had been making solo stratopheric ascents for the Air For

since 1957, were a significant factor in this reevaluation of the personal parachut

In Project Excelsior, Kittinger began a series of record-breaking sky dives. O

November 16, 1959, he jumped from an open gondola at an altitude of 76,40

feet. Three weeks later, from Excelsior II, he bailed out at an altitude of 74,70

feet to establish a free-fall record of 55,000 feet before pulling his ripcord. ST

knew of Kittinger's plans for Excelsior III, which he fulfilled on August 16,196

by diving from his balloon at 103,000 feet and falling 17 miles before opening h

chute at 17,500 feet. If Kittinger could do it, so might the Mercury astronaut i

case the escape tower would not jettison or both main parachutes failed on 

Mercury-Redstone flight. 40 

Although supposedly the first phase of astronaut training through 1959 was t

concentrate on academic studies in the eclectic new field of "space science," th

astronauts did not relish book-learning at the expense of field trips, specialty assign

ments, and familiarization with the developing hardware. As soon as new train

ing aids and partial simulators became available, they would make full use of them

Late in 1959, however, the only operable flight simulator was a crude "lash-up" o

analog computers driving a cockpit panel display above a couch on an air-bearin

floating platform at Langley. Gradually STG engineers Harold 1. Johnson

Rodney F. Higgins, and George Guthrie built more sophistication into this speci

kind of Link trainer. By January 1960 they were calling it the Air Bearin

Orbital Attitude Simulator. In use and development simultaneously throug

1960, this machine slowly evolved into a major training aid called the ALFA (fo

"air lubricated free attitude" [ or axis]) trainer. McDonnell provided a capsu

shell as an egress trainer in mid-February 1960. But the most valuable an

240 
so that they would act almost reflexively during their mission sequence. 

During the first year of the astronaut training program, the seven pilots heard 

approximately 50 hours of space science lectures given primarily by senior members 

of the Langley Research Center. Elementary mechanics and aerodynamics made 

up 10 hours of this time. Formal presentations in space physics took up 12 hours. 

Other courses included principles of guidance and control (4 hours), navigation 

in space (6 hours), elements of communications (2 hours), and basic physiology 

( 8 hours) . Each astronaut spent approximately 8 hours at Morehead Planetarium 

at the University of North Carolina on star recognition and practicing celestial 

navigation. 41 

"Phase Two" of the training program, based on simulation training and engineering involvement, was to begin with the new year. But concurrent developments, individual study, and personal practice in various areas complicated the 

astronauts' training calendar. At the end of one full year of assignment to STG, 

each of the seven had spent approximately 10 days in St. Louis at the McDonnell 

plant; five days in San Diego at the Convair/ Astronautics factory; and two days 

each at the Cape, at Huntsville, at Edwards Air Force Base, in El Segundo at Space 

Technology Laboratories and the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division, and at the 

Goodrich plant in Akron. Each also spent one day at the Rocketdyne factory of 

North American Aviation to see the engines being produced for the Atlas, another 

day at the AiResearch shops to meet the makers of their environmental control 

systems, and yet another at the Los Angeles plant of a subcontractor, Protection, 

Incorporated, where individual headgear was being molded. 42 These visits by the 

astronauts to the various industrial production lines were found to be so valuable in 

inspiring craftsmen and technicians at all levels to higher standards of workmanship that these personal contacts between producers and the astronaut-consumers 

became a regular feature of quality control programs. ,Grissom's simple remark 

on a visitation to Convair, "Do good work!" became a motto of incalculable value 

to every worker who heard it or shook his hand. 

The astronauts also made many field trips to Government installations for 

familiarization with specific conditions of space flight. In addition to the training 

for high accelerations on the centrifuges at Johnsville, Dayton, and Pensacola, 

training for zero acceleration-weightlessness-was distilled from the short parabolic hops that were flown in C-131s at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base and in 

F-100 aircraft at the School of Aviation Medicine in San Antonio. Closer to 

their Langley home, the astronauts mastered scuba diving at the Naval Amphibious 

Base near Norfolk; at their home base swimming pool they practiced floating fully 

suited. Also immersions in a Langley test tank gave them the sensation of neutral 

buoyancy. Both at Dayton and Philadelphia the astronauts borrowed military 

241 
Johnsville centrifuge 

Procedures trainer 

ALFA trainer 
Trainers and simulators have for some years been 

part of all flight training. In the Mercury program 

the normal training requirement was intensified by 

the new areas of sensation and orientation that man 

had never before experienced. Hence the astronauts underwent centrifuge runs at Johnsville) Pa.: 

for g-force training; procedures training at Langley; 

ALFA training at Langley for pilotage; MASTIF 

training at Lewis for acquaintance with space disorientation; movement training in weightless condition in C-J3J flights at Wright Air Development 

Center; and piloting experience with weightlessness 

in supersonic flights at Edwards Air Force Base. 

Weightlessness in C-J3J 

Weightlessness zn F-JOOF 
"rotating room" and the "human disorientation device," provided some experience 

with induced vertigo. But for complex tumbling experiences, each astronaut 

spent some time at NASA's Lewis Center in Cleveland, in the curious test device 

called the "MASTIF." Finally, each man learned to know his own idiosyncrasy 

to high concentrations of carbon dioxide by experiments also done at Bethesda. 

None of the mechanical aids for astronaut training could simulate more than a 

few of the conditions of space flight at a time. Even the seven Redstone ballistic 

flights, one planned for each astronaut, would be only partial simulations. Harold 

Johnson commented in February 1960 that the Redstone flights "mayor may not 

be classified as training missions, depending on how sporting you may be." The 

astronauts were not only sporting in this regard, they were also chafing at delays. 

They suggested to Robert Gilruth that a rhesus monkey ride MR-1 so the schedule 

might be compressed enough to put the first chimp in orbit by the end of 

November.43 

Perhaps the most impressive simulator, the whirligig called MASTIF (for 

Multiple Axis Space Test Inertia Facility), located at Lewis' cavernous altitude 

wind tunnel, was publicized far beyond its value as a training aid. Conceived in 

1959 by David S. Gabriel of Lewis as a rig to test space equipment in three degrees 

of rotational and two degrees of linear freedom, the idea of concentric gimbaled 

cages was translated into hardware in the altitude wind tunnel early in 1959, when 

Lewis was assigned the job of testing Big Joe's attitude control system. Robert R. 

Miller directed the MASTIF project; Louis L. Corpas did the detail design work; 

and Frank Stenger developed the air-jet propulsion arrangement. Soon they had 

erected a tinker-toy-like rig 21 feet in diameter at its supporting yoke, capable of 

mounting a 3000-pound space capsule inside its three sets of gimbals, and able to 

turn and tumble the whole combination in three axes simultaneously at 60 noisy 

revolutions per minute. An early trial revved the outer cage from zero to 50 

revolutions per minute in half a tum.44 

James W. Useller, another mechanical engineer at Lewis, was first to see the 

potential in the MASTIF, if adapted, for astronaut training. Useller and a Lewis 

test pilot, Joseph S. Algranti, began taking cautious rides inside the MASTIF as 

soon as the controls engineers could spare it in mid-1959. They set up a formal 

test program for about 10 pilots and physiologists who wanted to see what rolling, 

pitching, and yawing at different speeds and for different lengths of time would do 

to a man. A thorough literature search revealed some similar late-19th-century 

German experiments, but Useller and Algranti proceeded to confirm a condition 

known as ocular nystagmus, an automatic flutter of the eyeballs induced by 

the acceleration of angular rotation. After extensive tests, they verified a rough 

244 
Shepard, arrived in Cleveland for a weeks stay to test the MASTIF and their 

reactions to it, extensive experience had already been accumulated by other pilots

After a hard night and a frustrating morning strapped in the seat while the 

MASTIF was being adjusted, Shepard again stepped inside the three large gimbal 

cages for his second sitting but first real ride in this machine. When MASTIF 

finally started to spin, Shepard turned green and pressed the red "chicken switch," 

sounding a claxon hom as a signal to stop. To control the nausea and vertigo 

induced by this maniacal carrousel required dogged detenrunation. The nex

day Shepard-and before the end of March all the astronauts-took examination 

runs at 30 revolutions per minute in all three axes and quickly learned, by using 

the hand controller, to activate nitrogen reaction motor brakes, to halt their 

rotation and bring themselves to a stop while the cages continued to spin. The 

confidence gained from this experience was invaluable, but one series on the 

MASTIF was enough. Reporters who watched a demonstration by Carpenter 

were vivid in their descriptions of the piercing scream, multicolored cages, and 

extraordinary contortions of MASTIF, billing it the ultimate in wild carnival 

rides. 46 

Far more important and critical was the second phase of the Johnsville 

centrifuge program, which began in mid-April to test much of the McDonnell 

hardware, including the couch and hand controller, instrument panel and full 

pressure suit, and the astronauts' responses to the dynamic simulation of the 

g profiles. An STG status report for April listed eight multiplex objectives of the 

ongoing centrifuge training program: (1) to test the retention by the astronaut 

of the straining technique and other skills developed in the August program; (2) to 

familiarize the astronauts with straining under reduced pressure; (3) to familiarize 

the astronauts with performing at high g levels in an inflated pressure suit; (4) to 

evaluate the couch manufactured by McDonnell Aircraft; (5) to evaluate the 

handcontroller developed by McDonnell; (6) to test proposed voice procedures 

under acceleration and reduced pressure; (7) to rehearse and evaluate the 

feasibility of a two-hour countdown period following astronaut insertion; and 

(8) to provide initial experience with Redstone acceleration patterns. 47 

With over 120 controls at his glove tips, including about 55 electrical switches

30 fuses, and 35 mechanical levers, the astronaut had to learn a great deal regarding the monitoring and operation of these points of contact with his machine. 

From the prime contractor came a series of operating and maintenance manuals 

entitled "Service Engineering Department Reports," or "SEDRs" (pronounced 

"cedars"). The indoctrination manual had been replaced by a familiarization 

manual in the fall of 1959, and this in tum was replaced at the beginning of 1960 

by·SEDR No. 109, called the "Astronauts' Handbook." Although the first capsule 

245 
envisioned in a normal orbital mission at that time included 130 items expected 

of the astronaut, 69 of which were part of an extensive preflight interior inspection

Under emergency operations procedures, 156 items were listed as possible pilot 

actions in case of equipment malfunctions. The five phases of the missionlaunch, orbit, reentry, descent, and landing-each required special responses to 

emergencies arising during that portion of the mission. Finally, the mechanics 

of five major subsystems of the capsule were outlined in the trouble-shooting section 

and then condensed into checklists for the reaction and environmental control 

systems and for the electrical and communication systems. The attitude stabilization and control system checklist was promised"but was not yet available. 48 

As McDonnell technical writers prepared and revised the "Astronauts' Handbook," STG's operational plans were becoming systematized through concurrent 

revisions of its "General Systems Information Document." Lewis R. Fisher, 

Donald D. Arabian, William M. Bland, Jr., and Sigurd A. Sjoberg first published 

this basic guide as "Project Mercury Working Paper No. 118" in March 1960 

and revised it twice within the next year. They outlined the general plans for 

the Mercury-Atlas and Mercury-Redstone missions, including overall test objectives, flight plans, capsule design criteria, description of the capsule and systems, 

and the general operational plan from prelaunch phase through recovery. Specific 

mission directives were based on this format, and the authors of most later working 

papers presupposed a familiarity with "Working Paper No. 118." 49 

While John Glenn and Walter Schirra studied the interrelations of the pressurized suit and the cockpit layout, McDonnell design engineers rearranged the 

Mercury control panel to place all controls in a U-shaped pattern around either 

side and below the instruments. When an astronaut's suit was inflated, he could 

reach the right side and bottom of the panel with his right hand, and his left hand 

could reach the left side and bottom, but the center and top of the panel were 

inaccessible. Since Mercury gloves were thicker and heavier than those on flying 

suits, all controls had to be positive in operation, including guards for push buttons 

and with key handles and pull rings designed for a good grip and the application 

of considerable force, up t050 pounds in some cases. 

In their efforts to integrate man and machine, psychologists Jones and Voas, 

among others, had shown by late spring 1960 how the reliability of Mercury could 

be increased by the use of man's flexibility. Using the pilot as a trouble-shooter 

engineer in many cases could make the difference between mission failure and 

success. Conversely, as man's limitations became more precisely known in relation 

to the equipment to be used, correspondingly higher standards for the automatic 

systems, particularly the attitude stabilization controls, were introduced. Voas 

later expressed a new consensus when he said: 

246 
Contrast in Mercury panel 

and console arrangement: 

right~ the instrument positions in early 1959~' below~ 

the panels as used in Glenn~s 

orbital flight~ Feb. 20~ 1962. 

The astronaut's primary job is to control the vehicle. The astronaut is not 

a mere passenger, but an active controller of the vehicle who performs an 

in:p<;>rtant and complex task which is basic to the total reliability of the 

mISSIon. 

System flexibility is increased by provision for the use of more than one of 

these [attitude control mode] systems at a time. Since the automatic reaction 

jets and the manual reaction jets are completely independent, it is possible for 

the man to exercise control through the manual jets while the auto-pilot is 

exercising control through the automatic jets. One occasion for use of both 

control systems would be in maneuvering in orbit when the astronaut desires 

to let the autopilot control two axes such as roll and pitch while he takes control 

in yaw. 50 

Meanwhile Jones and the human factors engineers at McDonnell were determining more ways in which man could back up other automatic malfunctions 

through their "failure task analysis." Using the failure mode predictions from 

247 
liability experts, Walter A. Harmon and Eugene A. Kunznick. They in tum 

allied themselves with another McDonnell crew employed on a special check 

of the Mercury reliability program instigated by NASA Headquarters. Programmers at McDonnell coded on punch cards all probable systemic failures; by 

June 1960 they had assembled massive computer printouts that detailed corrective 

actions an astronaut could take in case the robots should go wrong. They found 

that over a third of such failures would not show up on instruments or through 

warning lights, but could be detected through symptoms presenting unusual 

sights, sounds, smells, or vibrations. As many as 18 different failures, however, 

might show the same set of multiple cues, so the work of categorizing and 

organizing these data required another full year. Preliminary results from these 

cooperative studies helped early to isolate malfunctions that needed new indicators, to rank the frequency of instrument use, and to shape the training program. 

Efforts to predict the total system reliability by this evaluation intensified the 

debate over the "numbers game." 52 

LOOKING OVER MERCURY AND BEYOND 

In March and April 1960, NASA scored two spectacular triumphs by using 

the Air Force's Thor-Able booster combination to launch Pioneer V and Tiros [. 

The former was a highly successful instrumented probe to explore the space 

between the orbits of Earth and Venus. Launched on March 11, Pioneer V 

. established a new telecommunications record of 22.5 million miles by the end 

of June and returned a bonanza of data on solar flares, particle energies and 

distribution, and magnetic field phenomena in translunar space. The initial 

Tiros weather satellite, sent up on April 1, transmitted the first global cloudcoverage photographs from a circular orbit 450 miles high, thereby inaugurating 

a new age for meteorology. The request for implementation of NASA's 10-year 

plan presented to Congress on January 20 seemed off to a good start. An extensive congressional "Review of the Space Program" put Mercury, even in 

the context of NASA's present programs, in perspective as a relatively minor 

part of the civilian space agency's activities. In terms of NASA's plans for the 

future or of the total military-civilian space program already in action, Project 

Mercury was hardly more than "an important first step in our manned exploration 

of space." 53 

Through the winter and spring of 1960, the big event toward which Mercury 

watchers looked with most anticipation was the launch of the first Atlas vehicle 

topped by a McDonnell capsule. Immediately after Big Joe, Gilruth had requested the Ballistic Missile Division to fly another Atlas along a Big Joe-type 

248 
Defense Department operations plan outlining the support tasks of a dozen 

different military commands was under intensive study during this period

Serious reappraisals of schedule requirements and alternatives were underway in 

many areas, most of which threatened to delay the start of the qualification 

flight. By the end of January it was obvious that the payload, McDonnell'

capsule No.6, for the first Mercury-Atlas launch (MA-1) would not be ready 

soon enough. 54 

The bottleneck was the production line. Back in October 1959, when 

letter amendment to the prime contract for six additional Mercury capsules wa

being processed, McDonnell had estimated it could deliver capsule No.1 by th

end of November. To be sure, this would be a stripped model suitable only fo

an off-the-pad or beach-abort mission, but at that time it looked as if the firing 

date for this first qualification test could be set for the last day of 1959. It then 

seemed that capsule No.2, allocated to the first Mercury-Redstone flight, also 

could be delivered before the end of the year and shot about March 20, 1960

The sixth capsule, farther down McDonnell's production line, originally wa

allotted to the first Mercury-Atlas flight. It was barely framed, but McDonnel

had hoped to deliver it by the end of February for a tentative launch date in 

mid-May. While STG was immersed in the Little Joe program, however, th

production managers at McDonnell became aware that actual final assembly o

the first capsules and equipment would take far more time than anticipated

On November 3, 1959, Sherwood L. Butler, the procurement officer at Langley

had notified NASA Headquarters that capsules Nos. 1 and 2 each would b

delayed a month; No.6 might be expected by the end of February.55 

What, precisely, was causing these delays? Logan T. MacMillan, Edward 

M. Flesh, Yardley, and Dubusker of McDonnell felt constrained to answer a

the pressure for delivery increased-as did certain conditions that obviously 

needed to be corrected. Incorporating the smallest changes during the fina

assembly of the first six capsules required many hour~ of disassembly, reassembly

and rechecking. Only one or two men at most could work in the confined space 

of the pressure vessel's interior, and rising standards of quality control imposed 

by McDonnell, STG, a~d resident Navy inspectors required much reworking

For example, on the first shift on January 6, 1960, J. E. Miller, the McDonnel

inspector on the floor at the time, logged in his record book a local cause of delay: 

Insp. discontinued all work on Cap. # 1 this A.M. until the filthy condition of 

the capsule was cleaned up. A meeting of Prod. Supervision was called by 

Insp. & Engr., was asked to set [sic] in. Quality control was main subject & 

all agreed to extend more effort toward better quality control although Prod. 

did not think they could do much better than what was already being done. 56 

The next week at a capsule coordination meeting in St. Louis, Purser and 

249 
first delivered piece of production hardware did include the exterior shingles, 

heatshield, landing and recovery gear, missile adapter-ring, retropackage and 

straps, with dummy retros and live posigrades. STG undertook to install Big 

Joe-type instrumentation and sequencing for its rescheduled use on the first 

Mercury-Atlas flight. The plan was to return the capsule to McDonnell by 

April 1 for final shingle fittings and adapter matings, then ship the completed 

capsule to the Cape by mid-April. At the same time it was decided to eliminate 

the flotation bags, which had proved to be too delicate to last long in the open 

ocean, from all capsules and to keep the configuration of capsules Nos. 5 and 7 

unchanged in hope of making possible an earlier manned shot. Problems with 

the afterbody shingles and with the erosion of the window by the blast of the 

escape rocket were among a number left unsettled. 57 

As costs of solutions to these kinds of technological and training problems 

rose, NASA administrators appeared more frequently before Congressional committees and admitted their growing concern with manned space flight, as opposed 

to other space activities. T. Keith Glennan requested $23 million supplemental 

appropriation to the fiscal 1960 NASA budget of $500.6 million and justified 

$19 million of that extra sum on the basis of the urgent technological demands 

of ProjeCt Mercury. "It would be no exaggeration to say that the immediate 

focus of the U.S. space program is upon this project," stated Glennan. 58 

MANAGEMENT LEARNS ITS LIMITS 

The astronauts were not alone in their need to become in some sense machinerated. The managers of Mercury, both the civil servants and the contractors, 

had found truth in the maxim of industrial management that short-term estimates of accomplishment are nearly always overestimated. Mercury, like virtually 

all contractual development programs, entailed inherent technical and administrative difficulties impossible to foresee. A corollary to the rule of short-term 

estimates, namely that long-tenn predictions of accomplishments are very often 

underestimated, offered little solace at this stage of the development of Project 

Mercury. In its fifth status report at the end of January 1960, the Space Task 

·Group related to Headquarters some of the lessons learned during its first year 

of contractual operations: 

A new capsule delivery schedule has recently been indicated by McDonnell 

to reflect a delay in delivery of over 3 months in the early capsules. This revision was made necessary by a realistic appraisal of progress to date. Although 

various proposals for improving the situation have been considered, there does 

not seem to be any practical avenue open at this time for effecting any worthwhile change. 

250 
an Atlas as MA-l ... at the earliest practicable date. 59 

Gilruth, Charles J. Donlan, and their younger associates in STG grew olde

rapidly during their first 15 months as a contracting agency. Gradually attain

ing more autonomy, the Space Task Group still expected eventually to move t

Beltsville, Maryland. But in February NASA Headquarters made clear its in

tention not to move STG until Project Mercury was essentially completed. Re

lations with the Langley Research Center, STG's parent organization, improve

markedly with better organizational arrangements, such as job order procedures

and with the growth of STG's own administrative staff. Close working exchange

still prevailed in many areas, especially with the Langley shopmen under Jack A

Kinzler providing technical services. But on STG's first birthday, only two ou

of Langley's 12 applied research divisions could still say with regard to Mercur

that "there is as much to be done as has been done." 60 

The Pilotless Aircraft Research Division (PARD), renamed the Applied Mate

rials and Physics Division at the end of 1959, and the Instrument Research Divisio

were still most actively supporting Mercury. 

During STG's infant year, overall Langley support amounted to well ove

100 separate preliminary data releases, contributed by more than 325 profes

sional people, and costing approximately $1.9 million of Langley's own appropria

tions. STG's personnel complement in January 1960 was climbing above 500

the total cost of the prime contract with McDonnell, already modified in abou

120 particulars, was approaching $70 million and rising. At the same time

McDonnell estimated that more than half its total effort on Project Mercury wa

still in engineering development; a third of its effort was on actual production

and about 10 percent was on tooling. According to McDonnell's assistant con

tract manager, the overall weighted percentage of contract completion was jus

below 60 percent. 61 

The magnitude of monitoring a contract of this size was reflected in anothe

reorganization of the Space Task Group in mid-January. Formalized in the new 

block chart were the personnel office under Burney H. Goodwin, a budget an

finance office under J. P. Donovan, a procurement and supply office under Glen

F. Bailey, and an administrative services office under Guy W. Boswick, Jr. STG 

simplified its three line divisions by making James A. Chamberlin chief of it

"Engineering Division" instead of the "Engineering and Contract Administratio

Division." U:nder Chamberlin, Andre J. Meyer, Jr., and Norman F. Smith serve

as assistant chief and executive engineer, respectively. In Faget's Flight System

Division, Robert O. Piland and J. T. Markley were confirmed in their posts a

assistant chief and executive engineer. 

At this time Faget unofficially set Robert Piland to work considering advance

251 
directed the circumlunar pilot studies for four months before authorization for 

an advanced vehicle team on May 25, 1960, formally added eight other senior 

STG engineers to look to the future beyond Mercury.62 

Robert Piland also learned something from his older brother, Joseph V. Piland, 

assistant head of the contracts and scheduling office, who had evolved from a 

mechanical engineer into a contract administrator. Joseph Piland was instrumental in smoothing STG's formal relationships with its industrial contractors. 

His counterpart in McDonnell's organization was C. F. Picard, and together 

they had now to supervise over 50 subcontractors and over 5000 sub-subcontractors. 

Charles Mathews' Operations Division was in a state of flux as he and Walter 

C. Williams shuffled men and positions in preparation for manned operations. 

Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., and Chris C. Critzos stayed put, while G. Merritt Preston 

went to the Cape and Scott H. Simpkinson was sent to St. Louis to help expedite 

matters at McDonnell. Other names on the STG organization chart of January 

11, 1960, filled staff positions alongside Purser, Kenneth S. Kleinknecht, and 

Martin A. Byrnes. Another assistant to the director was Raymond L. Zavasky; 

heading the technical services liaison with Langley was Kinzler. The military 

officers originally assigned to STG as liaison remained aboard and active. They 

were Colonel Keith G. Lindell of the Air Force, who doubled as head of the 

astronaut and training section; Lieutenant Colonel Martin L. Raines of the Anny; 

and Commander Paul L. Havenstein of the Navy. Even Langley Research Center, across the field, had its liaison man on STG's staff: W. Kemble Johnson.63 

Beginning in January 1960, plans were made to integrate the astronaut with 

a flight-control team as well as with his machine. Team training of the remotesite ground crews required an extensive familiarization and orientation program. 

The initial proposal for training these teams began with an admonition: 

It is essential that the training of the flight control personnel be closely integrated with that of the astronaut's. As long as the astronaut is conscious all 

ground commands must be executed through or with the concurrence of the 

pilot. To be effective, the pilot and the ground crew must work as a closely 

knit team. An efficient system is dependent upon adequate team training 

and development of mutual confidence.6 -! 

In preparing to train and integrate the flight-control team for final operations, 

Walter Williams first discussed the problem with Kurt H. Debus, the Director of 

ABMA's Missile Firing Laboratory, and Major General Donald N. Yates, the 

Defense Department's representative and Commander of the Air Force Missile 

Test Center at Patrick Air Force Base, near Cape Canaveral. Manned missile 

252 
while had appointed another Air Force missile expert, Major General Don R

Ostrander, as Director of an Office of Launch Vehicles. His appointment, it wa

felt, would help interservice cooperation and relieve Silverstein of managemen

responsibility for rocket development.65 

In February Mathews and Williams organized a Launch Operations Branc

within STG's Operations Division under Preston at the Cape. Then they specifie

the duties, organization, and responsibilities of the Mercury launch coordinatio

office. Approaching a phase of heavy operational activity, different in kind a

well as degree from Edwards and Wallops Island field operations, Williams and 

Mathews' appointed Christopher Kraft as flight director, Stanley White as chie

flight surgeon, Merritt Preston as launch operations manager, and Scott Simpkin

son as capsule operations manager. By early March, 32 other position titles fo

ground operations-in the Mercury Control Center, in the blockhouse, at Atlanti

Missile Range Central Control, and in the launch pad area-were specified

Capsule engineers at the Cape published quickly a thick "Manual for Launc

Operations," which indicated their readiness to assume responsibility for launc

operations. Williams also asked Destroyer Flotilla Four to plan for the recover

of MA-l toward the end of May.66 

If Debus and Yates were somewhat chagrined by the forceful speed and 

decision exhibited by Williams and Mathews in setting NASA firmly in control o

launching operations, they were not alone in worrying about the future. Within 

other divisions of the Space Task Group there was also some worry lest the opera

tions division should monopolize participation in the payoff phase of Projec

Mercury. William Bland, for instance, wrote a memo to Maxime Faget earl

in March urging that "the specialists who have matured with Project Mercury

not be diverted to advanced vehicular planning before getting a chance to prov

in flight the systems they had designed: 

As Project Mercury matures, the total workload with the Space Task 

Group will increase with the greatest portion of the load carried by the operations division. This change in relative work does not mean that personnel of 

the flight systems division should decrease. their participation in the project. 

Actually personnel of the flight systems division, at this particular time, have 

a much wider and deeper range of experience in preparations for launchings, 

in launchings of rocket vehicles, and in flight data analysis than the Mercury 

launch personnel (NASA and MAC). This experience in detailed knowledge 

whiCh was collected during the Little Joe and Big Joe flight programs, the 

beach abort tests, the different system development programs (such as those 

conducted on escape motors, pyrotechnics, parachutes, drogue chutes, controls, 

etc.), and in the development of individual components which make up the 

capsule system, must be available to the Space Task Group organization conducting launch operations in order to insure direct approach to successful 

launchings.67 

253 
his lieutenants unless the Flight Systems Division got some role in the flying of their 

systems. 

Part of this disaffection had been precipitated by a major meeting regarding 

the Mercury network, held on February 9 at Langley. Ostensibly this meeting 

was to discuss the operational organization, maintenance and operations training, and communications for the network. About 30 men from the Air Force, 

Navy, Western Electric, Bendix Radio, the oceanic missile ranges, and the Tracking Unit at Langley met with Williams, Mathews, Kraft, and John D. Hodge, but 

no representative of the Flight Systems Division was present. A week later Gilruth 

appointed the flight controllers and set C. Frederick Matthews, a Canadian whose 

name was often confused with that of his chief, Charles W. Mathews, in charge 

of coordinating the ground crew training programs. Walter Williams saw this 

as a full time job in itself. By the first of March flight controller indoctrination 

and training plans were underway, and Philco contractors and medical monitors 

were being briefed for a larger role at various ground sites whenever their training 

should warrant. 68 

In mid-March Faget confronted another problem in machine-rating his technicians when he received another technical complaint, this one from William A. 

Petynia, a conscientious engineer he had assigned to watch complete systems 

tests of capsule No.1. Petynia had been working with McDonnell project engineer 

A. M. Paolini since June 1959, preparing capsule No.1 for the beach-abort launch 

from Wallops. But the complicated, specialized knowledge required to do a 

faultless job seemed to Petynia to be overwhelming by the spring of 1960: 

To determine the "overall picture" is not difficult, but I found additional 

effort was required to be in a position to even partially understand capsule systems. I do not mean to become a specialist in each of the capsule systems, but 

I wanted to be able to recognize and understand problems and their relationship with the flight. 

The flight systems capsule engineer is the one person in the test organization 

who clearly understands the flight test objectives and the performance of the 

hardware in order to fulfill them. This I think is important! However, I 

think that due to the complexity of the capsule, the engineer cannot hope to 

become familiar with the hardware to any great degree in the short period 

before CST [Capsule Systems Test]. I believe that training classes for the 

engineers [should] be started immediately under MAC's supervision. 6!) 

Petynia's awareness of the necessity to machine-rate himself so he could do 

an adequate job of inspection was one individual manifestation within STG 

of the problem of getting all the million or so people involved to do a perfect job 

in order to man-rate all the machines. From the highest level to the lowest, 

254 
workers in the project. The Redstone managers had adopted in 1959 a se

showing the anthropomorphic god Mercury in winged cap and boots bearin

a missile and vaulting Earth. Atlas managers eventually selected the alchemic

and astrological symbol for Mercury, enclosing a blue "R" for reliability, as the

identifying label for Mercury-Atlas components and laborers. On personn

badges, these marks of distinction meant a record of highest performance, but o

hardware these decals signified a test record that came closest to the nomin

design desiderata. Machines or components that performed too well in certa

respects were suspect as possible troublemakers in other respects for the future. 7o 

The astronauts were now making periodic appearances along the productio

lines at McDonnell, Chrysler, Convair/Astronautics, and elsewhere to encourag

the highest standards of craftsmanship among even apprentices or semiskille

workers handling or processing any components that bore the Mercury deca

Having shaken the hand of one of the pilots whose life depended on the

work, the factory workers presumably would treat with the greatest care an

tenderness the parts then still in their hands. 

Credit for having first worked out the guidelines for a coherent plan 

machine-rate everybody probably should go to Bernhard A. Hohmann and Ern

R. Letsch of Space Technology Laboratories (STL) and later of Aerospa

Corporation. Together with Major General Osmond J. Ritland, former te

pilot in command of the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division, Hohmann assure

the astronauts that their interests would never be sacrificed. Hohmann's stud

of the "General Aspects of the Pilot Safety Program for Project Mercury Atl

Boosters" analyzed the differences between the ideas of reliability, quality contro

and quality assurance before synthesizing them in a specific program adaptable 

other areas of Mercury development. Hohmann combined the approaches of th

mathematicians and systems engineers at STL with the viewpoints of productio

inspection, and test engineers at Convair/Astronautics, Rocketdyne, and els

where.7l But some of the compromises he recommended, such as choosing mo

nominal instead of highest performance parts to assure a higher level of fin

quality, were appropriated only gradually by NASA and STG. 

Upgrading the intensity of quality control over raw materials, of inspectio

and tests of systems integration in the plant, and of the requirements for a comple

vehicle at the time of the "factory rollout" were significant parts of the pilot safe

program. In the final analysis for flight readiness, a Flight Safety Review Boar

patterned on Air Force practice, should take the technical responsibility f

certifying the booster to be man-rated.72 Even after all these precautions the

was always going to be an element of doubt. Procedural principles on pap

would require two more years-and at least five flight experiments-to becom

realized in practice and working habits. 

255 
y , 

, py 

in conference to decide what weight to give the "numbers game" in their own 

confidential estimates of readiness. Gilruth, Donlan, and their chief of reliability, 

John C. French, defended STG's practical procedures against the theoretical 

approach of Nicholas E. Golovin, Landis S. Gephart, and Catherine D. Hock. 

The third revision of McDonnell's reliability program was delivered by Eugene 

Kunznick, who also outlined the particulars of the prime contractor's quality 

control measures. Walter Williams presented STG's latest views on operational 

flight safety, and STG generally endorsed McDonnell's reliability program review 

as its own. But neither Richard E. Horner nor Golovin was satisfied that the pains 

being taken by STG and McDonnell were sufficient or thorough enough. 73 

A new Division of Life Sciences Programs was created in March at NASA 

Headquarters, with Clark T. Randt, a neurosurgeon from Cleveland, as its 

director. Part of this division's purpose was to ensure machine-rated men for 

the future of manned space flights. Earlier in the year an Air Force aeromedical 

leader, Brigadier General Don D. Flickinger, reported to NASA and STG on his 

recent trip to Russia and on the opinions he had formed about Soviet progress 

toward manned space flight. Flickinger estimated that the Soviets would attempt 

without prior announcement to orbit a two-man laboratory about mid-year. The 

American astronauts were "anxious to do anything possible to speed things up." 74 

But the hardware was simply not yet hard enough or wearable enough for the 

insiders to get deeply excited about beating the Russians into space. Just after 

capsule No.4 arrived at Langley, Purser went to look at it and'reported to Gilruth: 

Although there are evidences of careless workmanship, I don't think it is 

too much worse than standard aircraft practice. Also, most of the bumps, 

patches, etc., seem to be on the unpressurized part of the structure. It was 

also mentioned by one of the boys that Capsule 4 was never intended as a flight 

vehicle, but only as a vibration-and-static test article; this can account for a lot 

of the errors. While many of the bad spots could be caught by inspection and 

corrected, a lot are non-fixable except by junking a capsule. These can only 

be avoided by inspiring in some way, better workmanship. I would suggest 

documenting the bad spots on Capsule 4 and then having a good inspection by 

STG people of the flight capsules now on the line. This could be repeated in 

6 to 8 weeks to catch the next batch and probably would cure the troubles. 75 

After the late February meeting on reliability in Washington, a great deal of 

ferment was evident in systems testing, quality control, engineering inspection, and 

a new order of reliability testing. At the McDonnell factory, Robert L. Seat, 

who together with George Waldram had drawn up the first capsule systems test 

plan, began to clarify the differences between acceptable aircraft qualification test 

practices and spacecraft systems integration and reliability tests. 

256 
gpy 

at Chrysler's missile plant in Michigan, C. A. Brady, Bernard J. Meldrum, and 

L. L. Baker presented a similar review, which apparently satisfied their visitors 

from STG that the Redstones for Mercury could be trusted.76 

Through March and April the pressure on McDonnell to deliver the goods 

unfinished and yet with perfect reliability records became so acute that James S. 

McDonnell and his board of directors in St. Louis appointed their factory manager, 

Walter F. Burke, to meet and satisfy that pressure. Burke, already a company 

vice-president, was named general manager for Project Mercury. Logan MacMillan remained as "company-wide project manager" for McDonnell, but the 

addition of Burke signified the scale of the growth in size and scope of the 

Mercury contract.77 

McDonnell would have been remiss if it had not responded at the highest 

level to NASA's pressure. All the aerospace companies knew that Faget and 

Robert Piland were traveling around the country during April 1960 presenting 

their preliminary ideas and plans for "advanced vehicular" space flight programs 

to other members of the NASA family. Technical speculation was rife over how 

best to accomplish manned circumlunar flight. Other corporate giants, including 

Grumman and Convair/Astronautics, were competing for snippets of knowledge 

about what was going on in these confidential deliberations within NASA. But 

James Chamberlin, among others, was wondering, as he watched the difficulties 

in manufacturing and ground testing McDonnell's first capsules, difficulties particularly acute with the sequence and wiring systems, whether speculation about 

spacecraft ten years hence was legitimate, profitable, or even necessary.78 

While uneasiness over reliability was interminable, there were limits-practical, 

political, and social-to the amount of time that could be sacrificed for quality 

assurance. Decisions had to be made and, after close calculation, risks taken. 

Abe Silverstein at NASA Headquarters intervened at this point, deciding to shortcircuit a duplicate set of prelaunch checkout operations. On March 29, two 

weeks after President Eisenhower had ordered that the big new NASA facility at 

Huntsville should be called the George C. Marshall Space Flight Center, Silverstein 

wrote von Braun a lengthy letter of explanation: 

I have just completed an extensive reexaminati9n of all Mercury schedules, 

from the point of view of expediting the entire Mercury program. As a result 

of this reexamination, I have arrived at the conclusion that it is of utmost importance to obtain flight performance data of certain critical components of 

the Mercury systems at the earliest possible time. More specifically, it is important to. initiate the Mercury-Redstone flights as soon as possible in order 

to obtain inflight evaluations of the Mercury capsules at an early date. 

* * ·x257 
the booster static firing. 

* * * 

In view of these facts, it appears that the capsule prelaunch operations at 

Huntsville are no longer required. I have therefore directed that the Mercury 

capsules assigned to the Redstone program be shipped from St. Louis directly 

to Cape Canaveral, thereby gaining approximately two months in the launch 

schedule. I suggest that all parties concerned meet at NASA headquarters 

in Washington in the near future to discuss detailed arrangements necessitated 

by this new procedure. 79 

But a week later Kuettner persuaded Silverstein to relent on this decision and to 

agree to a compromise: the capsule for MR-1 would be shipped to Huntsville fo

a much shorter period to test the mating and to check on problems of radio fre

quency and electrical compatibility. Silverstein now wrote von Braun a letter o

appreciation for reducing the Huntsville checkout time "from 8 weeks to 16 days

so that the Mercury-Redstone program can proceed as rapidly as possible.

Shortly thereafter, Silverstein also learned that the Air Force Chief of Staff, Genera

Thomas D. White, was reaffirming in strong language to his troops that the Ai

Force should cooperate with NASA "to the very limit of our ability, and even 

beyond it to the extent of some risk to our own programs" if that were necessary.so 

Scheduling problems continued, becoming acute toward the end of June

when the schedules for qualification flight tests were recognized to have slipped 

by at least six months. Complete capsule system testing seemed to require new 

organization, new procedures, and new ground test equipment. Purser filed a 

note for himself on a major meeting on June 27-28, attended by Silverstein and 

Director Harry J. Goett of Goddard, wherein the top technical managers of 

Mercury and STG began to admit that perfect reliability is indeed impossible

Quality control and reliability testing must be raised to a new level of effort, and not 

only man and machine but man-rating and machine-rating processes must be 

integrated, reflected Purser. 

One of the major problems facing Mercury management is the conflict 

between a real desire to meet schedules and the feeling of need for extensive 

ground tests. The MAC capsule systems tests are not meeting this need since 

they were not intended for this purpose and since the pressure of time sometimes 

forces bypassing of some details (to be caught later at the Cape). Further, 

there has not been time available (or taken) on the part of MAC to study and 

update the CST procedures and SEDR's. It was concluded that a group 

(mostly MAC effort) should be set up to review and update the CST and 

SEDR procedures. I t is also firm that no details will be bypassed in the Cape 

checkout without the express approval of STG management. 

.x­ * * 
 

258 
 
sequent delay in the program ... it was decided to not change [sic] the program now but to keep the door open and reconsider when MA-5 and MA-6 

are closer. Since the astronauts have expressed considerable interest in this 

proposal STG management is to discuss the above decision with them. 81 

Just before the reliability meeting in February, the Task Group had received 

welcome news of improving Atlas reliability as a result of more series-D firings 

since Big Joe. Already in mid-February STG had assigned a rough reliability 

coefficient of 75 percent, based on virtually perfect ignition and running of the 

engines and excellent performance from airborne and ground guidance systems 

in recent tests. Studies of the Abort Sensing and Ifuplementation System for 

Mercury indicated that 13 of 43 series-D flights would have been aborted had the 

ASIS been aboard; only one of those 13 would have been terminated unnecessarily 

by the system's sensors. 82 Hopes were high, therefore, that whenever qualification 

flight tests should begin with Mercury-Atlas No.1 (MA-1), they would follow 

each other rapidly at monthly intervals. 

While Edison M. Fields and Sigurd A. Sjoberg of STG began the arrangements for adapting Atlas 50-D to capsule No.4 for the MA-1 flight, Hohmann's 

engineers at STL, including James W. McCurry and Ernst Letsch, together with 

a reliability team supporting Philip E. Culbertson at Convair/Astronautics, were 

all warning of the consequences from the predicted increase in capsule weight. 

Guidance and trajectory equations, dependent upon moments of inertia, center of 

gravity, and a gross capsule weight now over 3750 pounds at launch, had to be 

recalculated. 83 

The first Mercury-Atlas test flight was to be Virtually a repeat of Big Joe, with 

the significant difference that a McDonnell capsule was to be qualified rather than 

a NASA model demonstrated. The primary objectives for MA-1 were also 

similar to those for Big Joe: to determine the integrity and stability of the McDonnell-built structure and to measure heating rates on the afterbody shingles during 

a critical abort and reentry. 

MA-2, scheduled for September, should test the integrity and flight dynamics 

of McDonnell capsule No.6 during a simulated nominal reentry from orbit. Having decided to change the materials and increase the thickness of the outer shingles 

on both the conical and the cylindrical section of the capsule, STG had added 63 

more pounds by specifying the use of Rene 41 nickel alloy .016-inch thick on the 

conical section and 12 beryllium panels .22-inch thick on the cylindrical afterbody. 

The reinstatement of the impact bag and the drogue chute, plus the addition of 

insulation, a super sarah beacon, and heavier batteries, raised the estimated weight 

of the orbital configuration of the capsule to 3000 pounds.84 

Feverish, if not frantic, work and worry went into these decisions, beginning 

259 
and Jack Kinzler supervised the polishing of capsule No.4 as they had for the Big 

Joe payload. 

But summer arrived, and Chamberlin reported continual capsule delivery de

lays at the weekly STG capsule review board meetings. The slowdown and 

stretchout of the flight-test schedule became ever more vexing and costly. Mean

while NASA Headquarters began to centralize and simplify its launch operation

under Ostrander, leaving to Silverstein preflight worries and responsibility fo

Mercury boosters only. Warren North justified a $7 million overrun on the 

prime contract for which STG was seeking approval: 

This overrun was, of course, anticipated. A major factor involved in the 

McDonnell overrun is the high level of engineering required in support of the 

testing program. McDonnell previously planned to reduce their engineering 

effort in early 1960. However, because of the increased scope of the testing 

program and the capsule changes, these engineering reductions have not taken 

place; in fact, in their last monthly report, McDonnell shows their engineering 

head count at 913 and increasing. The procurement overrun is due primarily 

to subcontract overruns at Bell, AiResearch, Collins, Radioplane, and PerkinElmer. 85 

To try to speed things up and to keep safety paramount, Silverstein instituted 

biweekly meetings at NASA Headquarters with Walter Burke of McDonnell and 

Gilruth of STG. Both quality control and urgency militated against keeping cos

ceilings permanent. They also militated against the schedule. Glennan had 

directed that no flight schedule changes should be made without his persona

explicit approval. But the technological realities of ensuring highest technica

performance and STG's priority concern for the orbital objectives of Mercury

rather than for suborbital man-in-space, allowed the first Mercury-Redstone flights 

to slip past, or at least alongside, the Mercury-Atlas qualification flights. 

HEAD AND HANDS OF NASA 

During March and April, Administrator Glennan called on the Space Task 

Group, as well as all of NASA, to conduct a self-appraisal of NASA's contracting 

policy and industrial relations. A firm of management consultants, McKinsey 

and Company, had entered into a contract with NASA on February 26, 1960

for a comprehensive study of how NASA should utilize industry and private 

institutions, how it could improve its utilization of its own research capability, and 

what the extent and manner of sharing responsibility and authority between 

Government and industry actually was. 86 

The Space Task Group responded with a self-analysis which listed the major 

260 
three subsystems-the capsule, boosters, and tracking and cormnunications-each 

of which was further subdivided into elements and tasks. When the representative 

of McKinsey and Company visited STG on April 19 to discuss the working 

methods used in the conduct of Project Mercury, he was briefed by Purser, 

Zavasky, Mathews, and Bond, and provided with documents tabulating the 

distribution of STG personnel man-years, associated costs, and "R and D" fundings. Although McKinsey's final report did not appear until October, the Task 

Group finished its part of the self-examination in May. STG learned from this 

exercise that it had shifted from research and development into almost exclusively 

development activities. 87 

At the highest level within NASA Glennan and pssociates recognized, as Robert 

Rosholt has described it, that the "opportunity to make comprehensive changes in 

NASA's organization and procedures would not exist too much longer, i.e., 

bureaucratic hardening of the arteries would make change more and more difficult 

as the agency became older and larger." The final McKinsey report appeared 

to endorse the "integrated project management team" approach used by STG. 

The Space Task Group, however, was still only a semi-independent subdivision of 

NASA's Goddard center and still closely related to the Langley center. The 

General Accounting Office and NASA had clashed recently over executive privilege in withholding certain documents relating to the selection of McDonnell as 

the prime contractor for Mercury. This furnished ammunition for some critics 

of NASA's industrial relations. But the decentralization policy of NASA was 

approved by McKinsey, with certain reservations taken in part from STG's 

experience.88 

Through the winter and spring of 1960 the managers of Mercury both in 

Washington and in Virginia were learning to adjust to the limits imposed by a 

new technology and by the necessity to coordinate diverse, far-flung, and sometimes perverse human organizations of technicians and craftsmen. While they 

chafed at the slipping schedules, worried over technical details, swatted at gadfly 

reporters, and tried to anticipate every contingency in their planning for the 

missions ahead, Gilruth and his associates in management and systems engineering 

were just as surely learning to take their tumbles as were the astronauts in their 

centrifuge rides and in other exotic simulators. 

McDonnell's capsule No. 1 finally arrived at Wallops Island on April 1, 1960, 

cleaned up but stripped of most of its subsystems, to be groomed for a test of its 

escape rocket, parachute recovery, and landing system. Petynia and Dennis 

F. Hasson had written a thick catalog of expectations, prescribed procedures, 

schematics, and checkoff lists for this "off-the..:pad abort" test. While Alan 

Kehlet and Herbert G. Patterson worried over alignment and the abort sequence 

system, Wallops personnel prepared the canted pad and supplied logistical support 

261 
capsule away from the ground on its short flight, lasting one minute and 16 second

but covering half a mile in an arc 2465 feet high. Recovery by a Marine Corp

helicopter took only 17 minutes. The only significant defect noted from this tes

was a relatively poor separation distance when the tower jettisoned.90 

The "beach abort" was a successful flight and a sterling qualification test

but it was hardly spectacular to the public. Certainly it was not all that STG 

had hoped to accomplish this long after the last of the development flights late 

in January. However, MA-l was coming along nicely. It should be far more 

impressive in proving the "booster-capsule combination for exit flight and capsule 

for entry flight."!)l And spacecraft No.2 was to be delivered to Huntsville at the 

end of June for static tests and compatibility adjustments with the first Redstone 

booster. Should it prove trouble-free, then presumably by the end of summer, i

everyone worked hard enough and there were no interfering defense launch 

commitments, two more qualification flights on each of the big boosters should 

bring the day of the first manned space flight much closer. 

On May 15, 1960, however, an event occurred that rekindled premonition

that the first manned space flight might be made by a Russian. In their only 

announced space launching during the first half of 1960, the Soviets orbited the 

first capsule large enough (10,011 pounds) to contain a human passenger

Called merely Sputnik IV by the' Western press but more accurately named 

Korabl Sputnik, or Cosmic Ship No.1, this vehicle failed four days later when it

reaction control or attitude control system shot the ship containing its dummy 

astronaut the wrong way for recovery.92 Perhaps, just perhaps, the United State

might have better reaction and attitude controls than the Soviet Union. 

262 
 
llX 
 n ......................................................................................................................................................... 
 

From Development into Qualification: Flight Tests 


(JULY-DECEMBER 1960) 

I N mid-1960, NASA and its Space Task Group hoped soon to begin launching 

a major qualification flight test for Project Mercury every six weeks. If all 

went well, these tests of the operational vehicles should permit a man to ride 

into space before the end of the year. But if Mercury's developmental experience 

to date was any guide, troubles could be expected to pyramid and might require 

more than six months to correct. Since the ultimate goal of Project Mercury 

was to achieve man-in-orbit rather than merely a sounding-rocket ride by a man 

into space, the Task Group would be running concurrent flight tests with the Little 

Joe, the Mercury-Redstone, and the Mercury-Atlas combinations. But attention and impetus were focused on the accomplishment of manned orbital 

circumnavigation. 

NASA Administrator T. Keith Glennan sent a memorandum to his Director 

of Space Flight Programs, Abe Silverstein, on July 11, 1960, prompting him to 

make every effort to put forward to November the launch of MR-3, long designated the first manned suborbital flight. If that was not possible, Glennan 

urged Silverstein to hold fast the schedule for the first manned launching before 

the end of the year. Silverstein replied that the manned event had just been 

reset for the week of December 5. By mid-August 1960 the most realistic estimate 

of the earliest possible man-launching changed the program management plans 

once again and reset the MR-3 launching for mid-January 1961. As late as 

October 1960, this optimism prevailed while work on capsule No.7 for MR-3 

proceeded "somewhat better than expected." 1 

Having once called the Army's stillborn Project Adam a "circus stunt" because 

it proposed little more than shooting a man into space, Hugh L. Dryden, Deputy 

Administrator of NASA, had himself set a precedent for the criticisms of those 

influential scientists who came to regard Project Mercury as more of an exhibition 

than a demonstration. During 1959 few had raised their voices against NASA's 

plans and STG's development program for a manned satellite. But during this 

election year of 1960, many citizens scrutinized-and Eisenhower even established 

a commission to study-all national policies, goals, and ideals. This White 

263 

the Nation's vaunted technological know-how to put the first man above the 

atmosphere. Although Dryden, George M. Low, and other NASA officials re

cently had warned repeatedly that the Russians could and likely would achieve 

manned space flight first, no one in NASA seemed to wonder whether the Soviet

would send men on ballistic suborbital missions before committing a man to 

orbital flight. Most citizens seemed to confuse their feelings of hurt pride with 

loss of prestige and were reluctant to accept Eisenhower's difficult rationalization 

that America should abjure any "space race" with Soviet Russia. But NASA 

followed Eisenhower's leadership in this matter and reinforced the official attitude 

by insisting that Mercury was an "R and D" program wh06e pace could not be 

forced. 3 

Glennan in his public statements appeared torn between the pressures of public 

sentiment expressed through Congress and the news media, on one hand, and the 

demands of loyalty to the Chief Executive and to technological realism, on 

the other. Aware of the Nation's late start in rocket propulsion development and 

yet of its amazingly rapid achievement of a workable ICBM, Glennan knew tha

the United States still did not have the weight-lifting prowess to join an avowed 

contest with the U.S.S.R. But Glennan also shared the aerospace community'

satisfaction on May 20, 1960, when the Atlas first flew higher than 1000 mile

and over 9014 miles downrange from Cape Canaveral into the Indian Ocean

By this time the Thor and Jupiter intermediate-range missiles were operationally 

deployed abroad. The Titan ICBM, in spite of some developmental failures

was emerging into a second-generation intercontinental missile. 4 

Mercury still was only a fractional part of NASA's total space effort, bu

publicity and public interest had reinforced each other until the manned program 

clearly had become the most promising hope of "beating" the Russians into space

When the Soviets orbited Korabl Sputnik lIon August 19 and the next day 

recovered two dogs, Strelka and Belka, from it, grounds for complacency among 

Americans evaporated. 5 National phobias, stimulated by partisan criticism o

the alleged "missile gap," were further distorted by technological chauvinism 

with respect to Soviet accomplishments in space. Popular attitudes were exacer

bated after the "spirit of Camp David" was destroyed by the U-2 incident and 

after Khrushchev used the U-2 affair to destroy the summit conference in Paris

Speculations on high policy and international relations were not the busines

of the field workers on the Mercury program. But as citizens they could no

avoid being aware ' of some wondrous possibilities for the historic significance o

their work. Both landlubbers and space lovers could find many excellent reason

to think that the ICBM and nuclear warheads might possibly become plowshare

of peace rather than tools of terror if directed toward the exploration of space

264 
Mercury. 

Toward the end of June 1960, the Space Task Group took another hard look 

at the status of Project Mercury. Having formalized three separate series of 

engineering inspections and tests-progressing from development through qualification into reliability phases-STG faced with increased confidence some 

criticism from technical associates. It felt it could gauge accurately the soft spots 

in the major systems for Mercury. Of the 17 nominal systems for the capsule, all 

but five or six by June were reported finished with qualification tests and almost 

done with reliability testing. The major unfinished items were the reaction control 

system, pyrotechnics, the retrograde and posigrade rockets, and the satellite clock. 

Capsule system tests had revealed that certain pressure regulators, solenoid and 

relief valves, and thrust chambers for the reaction controls using corrosive hydrogen 

peroxide were going to be troublesome when operating in a high vacuum. On the 

other hand, the environmental system was progressing better than expected, with 

only five components still unqualified: the emergency oxygen bottle, a pressure 

reducer assembly, the odor and carbon dioxide absorber, a high-pressure oxygen 

transducer, and a suit-circuit water separator. The abort sensing and implementation system (ASIS) for the Atlas was 95 percent qualified, but its counterpart 

for the Redstone was not.G 

The communications and tracking network faced four outstanding problems: 

no one had much experience with Atlas guidance and tracking at long ranges 

and low elevation angles; the reliability of the high-speed data links was unknown; 

capsule antenna patterns were erratic enough to make radar acquisition 

problematic; and control procedures and techniques as yet were untried. 

Astronaut training, the Task Group believed, was virtually complete for disorientation, tumbling, and familiarization with high levels of carbon dioxide 

absorption. Adaptation to weightlessness and lectures on space sciences were 

90 percent complete, but training in navigation and communications (at reduced 

pressures and with high heating, noise, and vibration rates) was less than a third 

finished. The training of ground crews in procedures for preparing, launching, 

and monitoring an astronaut in flight had only just begun. And NASA's planning 

for recovery operations in the summer of 1960 was grandiose, asking "virtually 

for the deployment of the whole Atlantic fleet." This requirement came down 

abruptly after NASA met with the Navy at the Pentagon and was shown that 

fleet operations of this scope might cost more than the entire Mercury program. 7 

The climax of the debate over reliability analyses came in early summer 1960, 

when NASA Headquarters decided to issue an independent contract with 

McDonnell for making assurance doubly sure. Associate Administrator Richard 

E. Homer and his deputy, Nicholas E. Golovin, the mathematical systems analyst 

who had come to NASA from the Advanced Research Projects Agency, achieved 

265 
provide Horner's office with the data it needed to analyze and evaluate the reliabil

ity efforts and achievements of McDonnell, of all 10 capsule subcDntractors, o

some 200 suppliers, and indirectly of STG's reliability monitoring and mission 

planning. 8 

GDlovin's approach to. a reliability prediction program was unusual to both 

the Space Task GrDup and to many of his professional colleagues. It reversed th

common procedure of beginning with parts analysis and proceeding to the whole 

system. Golovin had recently explained his theoretical pDint of view before th

American Society for Quality Control, citing Dther missile prDgram precedents fo

inverting the crucial problem: "start with a definition of failure for the system

and then work back through subsystems and components to the data Dn part

failures." Glennan and Horner had approved this approach as an aid to fulfilling 

their desires for better "confidence coefficients" before accepting the readiness o

the capsule for unmanned and manned suborbital and three-Drbit missions. Thi

kind of systems analysis used deduction and fully exploited "numbers game

techniques and data processing machines to check on the inductive systems engi

neering of STG and McDonnell. The experimentalists at the working levels

and many of the engineering managers, including STG's Director, Robert R

Gilruth, believed they saw a worthless expenditure of effort in this innovation. 

NASA Headquarters saw STG dragging its feet on this issue by the end 

of June. Glennan therefore tried another tack. He wrDte directly to James S

McDonnell, shortly after a personal visit and briefing at the factory : 

As you know, during the last month there have been a number of discussions 

between my Office of Reliability and Systems Analysis and various members of 

your staff on the problem of Mercury capsule system reliability. These talks 

were the result of my having directed the Office of Reliability and Systems 

Analysis to prepare for me an objective quantitative evaluation of the anticipated mission and flight safety reliability of the Mercury capsule system. It 

has now been brought to my attention that discussions have not yet resulted in 

mutual agreement on getting this job seriously underway. 

I would appreciate it if you would give the matter your personal attention 

and have your staff responsively consider providing, as promptly as possible, the 

information detailed in the enclosed "Proposed Work Statements for McDonnell 

on Mercury Capsule System Reliability." 

If you foresee any serious problems in this connection, I would appreciate 

your bringing them directly to my attention, and I will be glad to set up a meeting in Washington to reach a full meeting of minds. 10 

The work statements enclosed in ~his letter, prepared by Golovin's assistants Landi

S. Gephart, William Wolman, and Catherine D. Hock, called for precisely defined 

reliability definitiDns, assumptions, diagrams, equations, and estimates of each 

266 
report (No. 7007) issued almost a year earlier, and to update and upgrade the 

reliability predictions and probability equations" for mission success in the light 

of uneven changes of component parts supplied to McDonnell: 

With all its 51~bcontractors, McDonnell has established a reliability require. 

ment for each major equipment. This requirement has been expressed either 

as a mean time between failures for a continuously operating device or as a probability of success for a single shot device, and has been incorporated as a firm 

contractual requirement in the appropriate McDonnell Specification Control 

Drawing. McDonnell also recognizes that "a requirement without a test to 

demonstrate compliance with it is meaningless." Accordingly, McDonnell has 

specified a variety of tests aimed at demonstration of the reliability requirements 

imposed on its subcontractors. 

Golovin and associates wanted to examine all test plans and test results on 

every Mercury capsule component from pre-installation acceptance through systems, compatibility, qualification, and life tests. In short, they wanted virtually 

a whole library of files at McDonnell opened for their inspection promptly, within 

two weeks if possible. This was not quite possible, but the founder of McDonnell 

Aircraft did reply personally to Administrator Glennan in mid-July: 

I am happy to inform you that our company started work on 9 June 1960, 

the same day on which Dr. William Wolman made his first specific request, 

even though this request was only verbal [sic]. Our company is now at work 

on every one of the programs therein outlined even though we still have no 

contractual authorization for any of it. 

-x­ * 

We are in full accord with providing as fast as humanly possible (without 

diluting other Project Mercury effort) whatever work is desired by NASA to 

assist in the reliability evaluations of Project Mercury ... .n 

A few days later Golovin's group, having requested Silverstein to show STG 

how invidious was its prejudice again~t the "numbers game," journeyed down to 

Langley Field and briefed the Task Group on how Headquarters proposed to 

raise quality by quantitative methods. Reliability goals for each major capsule 

system, progressive analyses, and periodic reviews, plus a new order of simulated 

mission-testing stringency, were proposed and accepted by STG. Since the last 

major reliability meeting at Headquarters on February 29, 1960, had been so 

acrimonious, STG was surprised to find how little difference there now appeared 

to be between Golovin's approach to reliability and its own. On July 21, Paul E. 

Purser logged this note for Gilruth: "Spent most of the day in the meeting with Dr. 

Golovin, et al. They sounded fairly reasonable. If we had held such a meeting 

several months ago, there would have been a lot less misunderstanding." 12 

Shortly after this rapprochement, Horner resigned from NASA to go to indus267 
formal about taking into account contemporary mathematical techniques use

in missile programs to enhance managerial confidence in reliability, hence i

readiness before a launch. Gilruth in turn gave the job to John C. French, wh

proceeded to organize a "reliability and quality assurance office" in the Spac

Task Group. There was special significance in the word "assurance," becaus

STG had by no means capitulated to the statistical approach nor to the mathe

maticians' belief in the efficacy of reliability prediction. I3 

Had the qualification flight tests actually started earlier, perhaps much of th

debate over what to expect from Mercury launches would have been obviated

But while still standing on the threshold of the major flight test program afte

almost two years of virtually simultaneous work on detailed design, engineering

and manufacturing, the Mercury spacecraft developers had to talk out some o

these difficulties before they could call for a vote. Far more significant than th

formal reliability program in the long run were the test philosophy, test programs

and the test work in "space chambers" that could more realistically simulate th

hot/cold vacuum of the exospheric environment.14 To move in that directio

required a move toward the "spaceport" at Cape Canaveral, Florida. 

MOVING TO THE LAUNCH SITE 

The imminent shift from development into the operational phase of Mercur

was reflected in several different ways. Military and industrial relations at Cap

Canaveral were undergoing rapid change as management and launch facilitie

were partially modified to accommodate the influx of a new team for manne

space flight. Melvin N. Gough, the senior test pilot who had established NASA'

basis for operations at the Cape, departed for a job with the Civil Aeronautic

Board, and into his shoes stepped G. Merritt Preston for STG and Kurt H. Debu

for Marshall's launch operations, now also a part of NASA. The Air Forc

also added more help for NASA support activities under Colonel Asa B. Gibb

and J. W. Rosenberry. Overcrowded facilities and overlapping checkout and 

launch schedules were causes for interminable official dickering but not for an

program delay. Project Mercury eventually acquired Hangar S and launch 

complexes 56 for Mercury-Redstone and 14 for Mercury-Atlas.Is 

Although the rank and file of the Space Task Group were barely aware of th

new liaison between NASA Headquarters and McDonnell reliability experts, th

quest for quality control at the working level was entering a new phase. In th

early summer of 1960, about 50 men from STG established residence in Florida

John F. Yardley, along with about 80 McDonnell technicians, set up shop in 

mobile-home trailers around Hangar S, in the industrial area within the fence

268 
At the McDonnell factory in St. Louis, peak employment on Mercury systems 

had reached 880 in April 1960. After that, there was a gradual decline in Mercury production workers as Yardley's field team increased to 120 by summer's end. 

Because STG had called for the first four capsules from McDonnell's production 

line before they were entirely finished, the maximum of 427 workers on the factory 

floor in May 1960 declined with the buildup of preflight polishing activities at the 

Cape. Yardley and his crews soon became the center of attention for unofficial 

helpers and kibitzers from other organizations and contractors, many of whom 

were glad to provide materials and tools that were urgently needed and in short 

supply among McDonnell people at the Cape.Ii 

Yardley, his assistants at the Cape-E. F. Peters and Robert L. Fosterand other working engineers knew little about the separate reliability contract 

between NASA Headquarters and McDonnell. Walter F. Burke, Logan T. MacMillan, and the quality manager, N. E. Covinsky, did know that this extra business was coming to their company through separate channels, but they and their 

production engineers were so busy trying to make each capsule work properly that 

they too could see little sense in the "numbers game." Each system and subsystem 

seemed to have its own personality. But to guard against overemphasizing these 

individual idiosyncrasies, capsule No.1 0 was set aside as the standard test article 

at McDonnell. As preflight checkouts at the Cape uncovered more and more 

unique difficulties, the need for still more stringent quality control was made plain. 

No one recognized this more than Yardley, who in the summer of 1960 urged 

his company to institute a new otder of reliability tests. He did not insist on 

statistical performance data, but he did enjoin improvement of environmentalchamber reliability testing of components. Robert L. Seat, McDonnell's senior 

test engineer, was pressed by Silverstein in Washington, by Lewis R. Fisher of 

STG, and by Yardley from the Cape, as well as by the burgeoning number of test 

requests between McDonnell departments, to prepare specifications for an exhaustive environmental reliability testing program. On September 26, 1960, 

the project to flight-test a man in orbit was supplemented by an authorization to 

ground-test the capsule in a simulated mission through physical environments in 

a "space chamber." This simulated orbital test program gradually became 

known as "Project Orbit." 18 

The reaction control system on capsule No.2 was giving Yardley headaches. 

In general the power and sequential systems on all capsules were full of "glitches," 

or minute transient voltages from inexplicable origins. Surely more problems 

could be expected from space operations. So the simulated mission test program, 

designed specifically to detect unknown anomalies arising from four and a half 

hours of continuous operation in a vacuum alternately hot and cold, like "day" 

and "night" for the manned satellite, was welcomed by all hands. Unfortunately 

269 
Prelaunch preparations at the launch site began in June 1960 with an under

standing between STG and McDonnell that some rework would be performed 

there in addition to extravagant preflight checkout tests, but the extent of th

last-minute work to be performed and the number of discrepancies to be corrected 

became so great that "preflight checkout" quickly came to be a misnomer. Unde

Preston at the Cape, John J. Williams eventually came to head the "Preflight Op

erations" division, instead of being simply "checkout" crew chief. Paul C. Don

nelly, Archibald E. Morse, Jr., A. Martin Eiband, Walter J. Kapryan, and Jacob 

C. Moser gradually became involved with wholesale systems engineering as the 

thoroughgoing checkouts in Hangar S expanded. 

Gilruth laid down the law "for what is perhaps the most important single re

quirement in our programs: that designs, procedures, and schedules must have 

the flexibility to absorb a steady stream of change generated by a continually in

creasing understanding of space problems." This policy of correcting every 

discovered deficiency and of modifying each spacecraft down to the finish line 

at launch time was what Gilruth meant by an "R and D" program; it sacrificed 

cost and schedules if necessary in the interest of quality or reliability as the experi

mentalists understood it.19 

Through August 1960 "space chamber" ground testing for Mercury had con

sisted primarily of the capsule systems tests for integration and compatibility in a 

relatively mild vacuum and of the manned environmental control system test

simulating an altitude of 40,000 feet. McDonnell had detected many design 

deficiencies in these test programs. Now early development failures, arising from 

unanticipated interactions between parts and components and from errors in esti

mating the effects of environmental extremes, became most troublesome. 

At St. Louis in mid-August, the "Development Engineering Inspection," a 

milestone meeting comparable to the Mockup Review, brought together for three 

days all the chief actors and participants in the hardware work on the capsule

Walter C. Williams and Kenneth S. Kleinknecht were eager to institute this 

old Air Force custom-the "D.E.I.," as they called it-as a basic check on system

integration and configuration control. When on August 18 the 30 members of 

the NASA inspection team departed, they were well assured that the Mercury 

capsule on display (No.7) was safe for manned flight, but only for a 

suborbital mission. Orbital flight would require a higher order of precautions for 

reliability. "Project Orbit," taking advantage of recent advances in vacuum technology, promised to pioneer this new dimension in development engineering by 

bringing the space climate down to Earth. Capsule No. 10 was specifically 

set aside in September for environmental chamber testing at McDonnell for orbital 

conditions. 2 0 

270 
to tidewater Virginia to help Gilruth and French formulate policy and establish 

STG's competence to judge reliability and flight safety issues. F. John Bailey, 

Jr., was Gilruth's choice for the man most likely to reconcile the differences between reliability based on experience and on expertise. Bailey believed an engineer needed 15 or 20 years' experience in any specialty to be a proper judge of 

the state of his art; he also appreciated the value of mathematical models in the 

redesign stages of technological evolution. But he quickly became convinced, 

particularly by studying the carefully balanced engineering compromises between 

efforts to make the boosters perfect and to perfect the escape system, that Mercury 

dependability could hardly be improved except by flight testing. 21 

Everyone recognized dangers in the pragmatic experimental approach to 

pilotless spacecraft research, but each calculated the risks differently. Silverstein 

and the new Associate Administrator, Robert C. Seamans, Jr., who succeeded 

Horner at this post on September 1, 1960, were among those at Headquarters 

who justly feared that overemphasis on the uniqueness of each production capsule 

and on STG's policy of continuous rework might lead to so many "quick fixes" 

that a pyramid of unobtrusive changes could cover up the truth about whatever 

might go wrong. 22 

Perhaps the most pertinent of these difficulties with systems integration 

derived from NASA bench tests of the reaction control system. The manufacturer of the RCS, Bell Aerosystems Company, ran its qualification test program 

from August through October 1960 and reported all phases of the testing satisfactorily completed. Subsequent tests by McDonnell, STG, other NASA engineers, the preflight teams at the Cape, and eventually by the workers on Project 

Orbit revealed innumerable electrochemical and electromechanical problems in 

simulated environments that required small changes here and there and eventually everywhere. The thrust chambers, metering orifices, solenoid valves, expulsion bladder, and relief valves each presented developmental flaws that were 

"solved" more often by improvisations than by scientific redesign. Karl F. Greil, 

a thermodynamicist who was working for Grand Central Rocket Company in 

1960 to perfect the escape pyrotechnology for Mercury, joined STG and its 

reaction controls test team in 1961 and tried in vain to apply the same perfectionistic standards to this vastly more complicated and inherently less reliable 

system of moving parts: 

This is the irony: the results that counted in Mercury's ReS were due to 

changes of the screen, heat barrier, and orifices, all of which were made upon 

simple first thought. On the other hand, the large amount of experimentation 

on the valve resulted merely in the assurance that nothing needed to be changed 

so far as valve design was concerned. This irony, that the simple approach 

271 
clear just how it really worked, such success without perspiration is likely to 

remain confined to its own historical case. But having established a precedent, 

it is bound to seduce us into relying on it, if it is not even bound to become a 

myth and a dogma. 23 

Fortunately neither the reaction system nor the environmental control system 

for the Mercury suborbital flight had to be so nearly perfected as the escape

structural, and landing systems. The development engineering inspection con

firmed the faith of most project engineers, in spite of a spate of impatien

criticism from outsiders, that capsule sequencing, electrical, communications

stabilization, environment, pyrotechnic ai, instrumentation, and landing and re

covery systems were virtually ready to fly. McDonnell issued a revised set o

detail specifications for capsule No.7 soon afterward. The Aerospace Corpora

tion, spawned from and now replacing Space Technology Laboratories (STL

for Air Force systems engineering activities, published in September its basi

planning document, the "General Flight Plan: Atlas Boosters for Projec

Mercury." 24 

If Project Mercury were on the verge of technological bankruptcy, as som

critics claimed, the problem was that man was still land-locked by inadequat

boosters. The Redstone for Mercury was still not man-rated. The first Mercury

Atlas flight on July 29, 1960, not only did not qualify anything, it seeme

actually to have disqualified an indispensable part of Mercury. It cast everythin

into doubt. 

ATLAS-MERCURY ONE: A COMPLETE FAILURE 

Late in February 1960 the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division (BMD) an

Space Technology Laboratories (STL) had been hosts for a meeting in Los Angele

of people from Convair/Astronautics, McDonnell, and the Task Group who wer

to determine the final details of the ultimate booster-capsule system for Projec

Mercury. Already STG had decided unilaterally, as was its prerogative, to mak

the next shot split the difference between the Big Joe development mission and 

full qualification flight test of the Mercury-Atlas configuration on a simulate

reentry from orbit. To the Task Group, this configuration and mission had lon

since been known as "MA-l," but Air Force and Convair engineers usually trans

posed the names. and spoke of "Atlas-Mercury" No.1. As in many other par

ticulars, which things should be first still was debatable. Maxime A. Fage

recorded his impression of the central technical debate at the Mercury-Atlas meet

ing on February 26: 

STL/CVA representatives made an impassioned plea to use the escape 

tower on the MA-l shot. Only with the escape tower on, can the Atlas people 

272 
g

y gg

to the Space Task Group management their desires for further consideration, 

they were informed that there was virtually no chance that the change would 

be made. 25 

As the MA-1 launch date approached, the Langley outfitters of the Big Joe 

capsule installed inside the shell of McDonnell's capsule No.4 another instrumentation package, built by Lewis Research Center and STG electronics technicians

Shipped to the Cape in mid-May, loaded with 200 pounds of sensing instruments-including two cameras, two tape recorders, and a 16-channel telemetry 

system-the MA-1 payload was equipped to measure some 50 temperatures 

(mostly on the afterbody); pitch, yaw, and roll rates; positive and negative 

accelerations; cabin and external pressures; and noise and vibration extremes. 

Besides the missing 1060-pound escape system, this payload also lacked the environmental control system, the astronaut couch and control panel, and the attitude-control and stabilization-control jets. An inert paste replaced the solid fuel 

in the retrorockets. For several months before the Atlas 50-D booster arrived 

at the Cape, Joseph M. Bobik, of the STG Launch Operations Branch, had work 

abundant as the inspector of the MA-l capsule. Meanwhile Sigurd A. Sjoberg, 

John D. Hodge, Richard G. Arbic, John P. Mayer, and Robert E. McKann were 

hastily revising the mission directive, data acquisition plan, and general information on recovery requirements, landing area predictions, and a summary of 

calculated preflight trajectory data. 2G Robert F. Thompson, Christopher C. 

Kraft, J r., and Charles W. Mathews listed in order of importance the test objectives 

of the MA-1 flight: 

1. 	 Recover the capsule. 

2. 	 Determine the structural integrity of the Mercury capsule structure and 

afterbody shingles under the maximum heating conditions which could 

be encountered from an orbital launching. 

3. 	 Determine Mercury capsule afterbody heating rates during reentry (for 

this purpose 51 thermocouples were installed) . 

4. 	 Determine the flight dynamic characteristics of the Mercury capsule 

during reentry. 

5. 	 Determine the adequacy of the Mercury capsule recovery systems. 

6. 	 Familiarize Project Mercury operating personnel with launch and 

recovery operations. 27 

When capsule No.4 actually arrived at Cape Canaveral on May 23, it was as 

complete as it was supposed to be except for flight instrumentation, parachutes, 

and pyrotechnic devices. Following a satisfactory test of the leakage rate of its 

273 
reentry, the capsule was moved into the newly constructed clean room in Hangar S. 

When every minor discrepancy had been corrected and the calibration curves 

for various units had been established, the spacecraft was moved out to launch 

complex 14 for the first mechanical mating of a Mercury capsule with an Atlas 

booster. The alignment was good; no rework was required for the umbilicals or 

for the complex wiring in blockhouse consoles. But mechanical problems with 

Freon lines and with some electrical contacts in the mating ring caused a delay. 

Taken back to Hangar S for dismantling to rework certain instrumentation and 

telemetry packages, the capsule again was transported to the pad and mated to 

the launch vehicle in preparation for the flight acceptance composite test, known 

by its acronym, FACT. From July 13 to 18 engineers stood on the bascule of the 

gantry, working to conclude the FACT satisfactorily. 

Meanwhile the Atlas crews were checking out their vehicle. Friendly rivalry 

between the propulsion and payload people produced many wagers over which 

system would cause the next postponement, and whether the capsule or the booster 

would be first to report "all systems go." On July 21, the flight readiness firing, 

which was a dress-rehearsal static-firing test, tested the three Atlas engines and 

measured the vibrations and acceleration strains suffered by the capsule. Atlas 

partisans won a bet at this point; atop this particular capsule the short metal legs 

of the "stub tower" created some unique antenna and telemetry difficulties with 

power amplifiers, commutators, and a high voltage standing wave ratio. The 

purpose of the "stub tower" was to support a thermal fairing over the antenna and 

parachute canister. Again the spacecraft was returned to the hangar. The tape 

recorders and cameras were removed, reloaded, and reinstalled. The telemetry 

was checked. The recovery section equipment was removed, then reassembled 

with live pyrotechnics. The capsule again was balanced, weighed, and aligned 

optically before its final union with the booster.28 

McDonnell's virgin spacecraft No.4 moved to the seaside launch pad dressed 

in a polyethylene raincoat on July 24. This time it nestled nicely on top the Atlas, 

and the umbilical insertion and pull tests shortly certified readiness to begin the 

countdown. Wet weather made it difficult to keep the pyrotechnic connections 

dry, but otherwise preflight checkouts were completed on July 26, 1960. For the 

benefit of Administrator Glennan, George Low summarized the expectations for 

Mercury-Atlas 1: 2D 

The primary objective of this test is to detennine the integrity of the Mercury capsule structure and afterbody shingles when subjected to the maximum 

heating conditions which could be encountered in any Mercury mission. 

Maximum velocity: 19,000 feet per second 

Maximum altitude: 98 nautical miles 

274 
Heavy rain pelted the Cape early on Friday morning, July 29, 1960, but the 

cloud ceiling rose high enough to be considered acceptable for a launching. During the final 35 minutes of countdown before launch time (T), 48 minutes were 

accumulated by delays or "holds" because of bad weather; liquid oxygen tanktopping delays; and telemetry receiver difficulties. In the blockhouse Gilruth and 

Walter Burke watched Walter Williams direct operations and Aleck C. Bond, the 

project engineer, sweat away the minutes, while across the Cape at Central Control, 

other Air Force, Navy, and Convair officers and officials also watched and waited

Before their consoles in the blockhouse sat the Convair test conductors Kurt Johnston and William Williams; Scott H. Simpkinson, the· payload test conductor; 

Harold G. Johnston, the ground instrumentation coordinator; Jacob Moser, the 

instrumentation engineer; B. Porter Brown, the launch coordinator; Richard 

Arbic, the range coordinator; and Donald C. Cheatham, the recovery coordinator. 

At 7: 25 the weather looked cooperative in the impact area, where recovery aircraft and ships were reporting a visibility of five miles and a sea state of mild 

swells. So the gantry was ordered to back away, leaving MA-1 poised alone in 

the rain, ready for the final count. Intermittent holds for minor status checks left 

only 7 minutes of count at 9 0'clock. 

Finally at 9: 13 the man-made thunder clapped as the Rocketdyne engines 

spewed forth their reaction energy. The noise grew louder for several seconds as 

the Atlas pushed itself up on its fiery blast by inches, feet, and yards. Out of sight 

in seconds as it pierced the cloud cover, Atlas 50-D could still be heard roaring off 

in the distance. The initial phases of the launching appeared to be normal. Then 

everything went wrong: 

About one minute after liftoff all contact with the Atlas was lost. This 

included telemetry and all beacons and transponders. About one second be.; 

fore telemetry was lost, the pressure difference between the lox and fuel tanks 

suddenly went to zero. It is not known whether this caused the failure or was 

an effect of the failure. There was no progression of unusual events leading up 

to this pressure loss. During the remaining second of telemetry, the Atlas 

flight path appeared to be steady. 

By telephone and teletype data links, Low in Washington pieced together the bad 

news on MA-1 and continued to dictate an immediate preliminary report for the 

administrator and his staff: 

As you know, the abort sensing system was flown open loop in this test. 

This system gave two signals to abort, apparently about the same time as the 

tank pressure differential was lost. These signals were monitoring missile 

electrical power and thrust ; although the tank pressure differential was also 

monitored, no abort signal was received from this source. In the MA-1 mission, all of these signals were merely monitored, and were not connected to 

any of the capsule systems. 

275 
p

The capsule separation systems were not to be armed until about three 

minutes after launch, and therefore the capsule remained attached to the Atlas 

or to pieces of the Atlas, until impact. Capsule telemetry continued to impact 

and indicated violent motions after the Atlas telemetry ceased. Temperatures 

and shingle vibrations flutter were recorded. Since all shingle thermocouples 

gave readings to splash, it is inferred that none of the shingles tore off. Impact 

occurred about seven miles off shore in an area where the water depth is roughly 

40 feet. At the time of this writing, ships were still searching for debris. 30 

It was a sad day for Mercury. It was especially frustrating for those nearest to 

the Atlas-Mercury phase, for they knew only that MA-l, either Atlas 50-D or 

capsule No.4, or both, exploded on its way through max q. They did not know 

precisely what had happened because the weather had been so bad as to prevent 

visual and photographic coverage. In Washington, at Langley, at the Cape, and 

in southern California, postmortems were held for two weeks, until a conference 

on August 11 marshalled the parties most interested in the MA-l malfunction, 

along with all the flight records, telemetry, and tape recorder data. Salvage operations had been able to recover only small portions of the capsule, the adapter-ring, 

and the booster. Presiding at this meeting was Major General Leighton I. Davis, 

the new commander of the Air Force Missile Test Center, who had relieved Major 

General Donald N. Yates in June as the Department of Defense single-point-ofcontact for support of Project Mercury. On August 22, Warren J. North summarized the "quick-look" opinions of NASA and STL but not of Convair/ 

Astronautics: 

Both the NASA and STG localized the difficulty within the interface area 

between the capsule and the booster. A metallurgist from STL explained 

that it appeared the plumbing to the Atlas lox boiloff valve had failed due to 

fatigue. One would not ordinarily suspect a fatigue failure after such a short 

period of time, however, the NASA analysis showed that the lox valve plumbing 

could have failed if a 30 g oscillation existed at approximately 300 cycles per 

second. Culbertson (Convair) admitted that the lox valve was poorly supported and that 30 g was a feasible magnitude of acceleration. Vibration 

measurements show a two and one-half g vibration of the booster airframe, 

consequently a 12 g amplification factor would have been required at the lox 

valve. 

Jim Chamberlin, STG, has been appointed chairman of a joint committee 

to resolve the MA-l incident and provide a fix prior to MA-2. Initial reaction of this committee would cause the establishment of a hardware mockup 

at McDonnell which would include the pressurized lox tank dome, lox valve, 

adapter, and capsule. This mockup will be vibrated in order to isolate resonance or amplification factors. 31 

276 
M AJ) a suborbital flight designed to check capsule 

structural integrity under maximum heating conditions) 

rose into the low rain clouds above Cape Canaveral 

(rig.ht) and mysteriously exploded one minute after liftoff. Pieces were meticulously collected (below) and 

painstakingly reassembled (below right) . T he engineering study delayed Mercury about 6 months but led to 

vastly improved interface between spacecraft and booster. 
The official flight test report issued two months later concluded with these 

remarks: 

The Mercury Atlas No.1 flight test was abruptly terminated approximately 

58.5 seconds after launch by an in-flight failure of an undetermined nature. 

Solid cloud cover at the time of launch precluded the use of optical records 

in the investigation of this failure. The following conclusions are drawn 

regarding this flight test: 

a. 	 None of the primary capsule test objectives were met. 

b. 	 The structural integrity of the capsule was maintained throughout the 

flight until impact with the water. A substantial part of the adapter 

remained attached to the capsule to impact. 

c. 	 The capsule onboard instrumentation performed in a highly satisfactory 

manner throughout the flight. 

d. 	 The onboard instrumentation showed the presence of shingle vibration 

of a non-destructive nature. 

e. 	 All Department of Defense support for the operation was very good. 33 

In mid-September one of the most important of the regular monthly meetings 

of the Mercury-Atlas coordination panel took place in the administration building 

at Patrick Air Force Base, Florida. Lieutenant Colonel Robert H. Brundin, 

Major Charles L. Gandy, and Captain I. B. Hanson were the BMD representatives, while Philip E. Culbertson and C. J. Holden represented Convair. Bernard 

A. Hohmann and Ernst R. Letsch were representing Aerospace Corporation, since 

STL was phasing out of Mercury. John Yardley, R. L. Foster, and J. T. Heard 

were present for McDonnell. 

First and last on the agenda of this meeting were questions concerning better 

ways of inspecting and solving problems at the interface between the capsule and 

the booster. Charles Mathews, the chairman, began the meeting by insisting that 

in spite of the MA-l failure, the overall Mercury-Atlas schedule could still be 

maintained. Hohmann suggested that a new seven-man joint capsule-booster 

interface inspection committee be established. This was done, and members 

representing all contributing organizations were named. Regarding the unsettled 

question of MA-l, Mathews briefly described several fruitless fact-finding activities 

and the need for additional instrumentation to determine the cause of failures like 

MA-l. No new hypothesis had yet emerged from the several test programs, 

so the 23 members of this coordination panel reexamined each other's previous 

answers to the enigma of MA-l. The 11 members from STG vetoed a proposal 

by the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division to establish still another "Mercury-Atlas 

interface panel." 34 

Although the MA-l investigation was unsatisfying, the launch operations 

committee reported that MA-2 was so nearly ready for a November launching that 

278 
Everybody responsible for MA-l was trying to determine the cause of that failure, 

but each only discovered that there were too many other bodies, both organic 

and organizational, partly responsible. 

Late in October, before the national elections and before another Mercury 

flight test had come to pass, Gilruth and Williams held another periodic press 

conference for the benefit of curious reporters. Inevitably the question was 

asked, "Are you satisfied that you have pinpointed the reason for the MA-l 

failure?" "No," Gilruth answered. "We successfully salvaged the capsule and 

can account for all parts." His interrogator continued, "Do you believe that 

parts in the Atlas' upper stage caused the failure?" Gilruth replied, "We have 

explored this. We have answered all of the questions we have asked ourselvesbut have we asked the right questions? We can't be sure. That is one of the 

reasons we are repeating the test. And on MA-2 the interface area will be 

heavily instrumented." 35 

When MA-2 finally became ready for launch, toward the end of February 

1961, the managers of Mercury knew that a repetition of a total failure like MA-l 

could easily cause abandonment of the project. The entire promise of the 

American manned space flight program seemed to hang in the balance. The 

technical aftermath of MA-1, during the politically sensitive period of the 

Presidential election and the lame-duck session of Congress, made interrelated 

technical and political considerations more acute than ever. To distinguish 

between the two soon became virtually impossible. 

ELECTION YEAR ApPRAISALS 

The day that Mercury-Atlas 1 failed so badly, NASA Headquarters announced 

plans to follow Project Mercury with a manned space flight program ' called 

"Apollo"-a project conceived to carry three men either in sustained orbital flight 

or on circumlunar flight. Several days later, the X-15 set two new world records 

when NASA pilot Joseph A. Walker flew the manned rocket on partial power to 

a speed of 2196 miles per hour and when Major Robert M. White shot it up to a 

height of 136,000 feet over Nevada and California. 3G 

In mid-August 1960, the Air Force accomplished two significant "firsts" within 

eight days when it managed to recover instrumented packages from the thirteenth 

and fourteenth attempts in its Thor-Agena-Iaunched Discoverer series of satellites. 

Discoverer, XIII dropped its 85-pound capsule into the Pacific off Hawaii on 

August 11' after 16 orbits; although a mid-air retrieval had failed, frogmen and 

helicopters from a naval vessel found and returned this, the first man-made object 

recovered intact from an orbital journey. On August 19, 1960, an Air Force 

C-119 cargo plane trailing a huge trapeze-like trawl succeeded in being at exactly 

279 
18 orbits above Earth's atmosphere. This marked the first successful recovery 

of living biological specimens from an orbital voyage. Three months later, on 

November 14, 1960, another C-119 aircraft succeeded in snatching the reentry 

capsule from Discoverer XVII, which carried human tissue, bacteria, spores, and 

film emulsions to an orbital apogee of 616 miles. For the moment, though, the 

Soviet achievement was overwhelming in its portents for manned space flight. 37 

On August 12, 1960, after an attempt that had failed in May, NASA's Project 

Echo succeeded in placing into orbit the first passive communications satellite, a 

100-foot-diameter aluminized Mylar plastic balloon, which reflected radio signals 

beyond Earth's curvature. Launched by a Thor-Delta vehicle into an orbit 

roughly 1000 miles from Earth and inclined 47 degrees to the equator, Echo I was 

the first artificial moon that could be seen easily with the naked eye by all 

mankind. Although stargazing aborigines in neolithic cultures of New Guinea 

and Mozambique probably could see the Echo balloon with the unaided eye better 

than sophisticates in the smog and haze of urban-industrial centers from California 

to Kazakhstan, the new pinpoint of light in the heavens was a visible manifestation 

of the "space age." President Eisenhower's broadcast message reflected from this 

sphere circling Earth at 15,000 miles per hour proclaimed: 

It is a great personal satisfaction to participate in this first experiment in communications involving the use of a satellite balloon known as Echo. 

This is one more significant step in the United States program of space research 

and exploration. The program is being carried forward vigorously by the 

United States for peaceful purposes for the benefit of all mankind. 

The satellite balloon which has reflected these words may be used freely 

by any nation for similar experiments in its own interests. Information necessary to prepare for such participation was widely distributed some weeks ago. 

The United States will continue to make freely available to the world the 

scientific information acquired from this and other experiments in its program 

of space exploration. 38 

While the President was pointing to these and other achievements of the 

United States in the exploration and use of outer space, the Nation was in the 

midst of a highly contested presidential campaign and congressional elections. 

Four years earlier it had seemed sheer whimsy, but now the practical values of 

space exploration and policy decisions on space, missiles, and the Nation were 

being not only examined but reexamined. In September, a month after Strelka 

and Belka were orbited and recovered by the Soviet Union, Premier Khrushchev 

again came to the United States for some personal diplomacy and figurative 

sabotage in the United Nations General Assembly. Afterward he told reporters 

that his people were ready to launch a man into space but had not yet made any 

280 
pggqp

been setting the rules for aeronautical records since 1905, the first flight into space 

must top at least 100 kilometers; later attempts to set records must exceed the 

existing record by at least 10 percent. Four categories of performance were set 

forth: duration of flight, altitude without orbiting Earth, altitude in orbit, and 

mass lifted above 100 kilometers. To be valid, all claims for records "must be 

supported by information on the date, time, place of takeoff and landing, identity 

of the vehicle commander, and any special apparatus used to assist liftoff, landing

or control." 40 

W-hen in mid-October Soviet tracking ships deployed to stations in the Pacific

an alert went out to American forces to expect imminent Soviet attempts to 

fulfill Khrushchev's boast. In mid-August there had been much talk in the American press that the United States had "rejoined" the space race as a result of 

recent accomplishments. An Associated Press dispatch on August 8 reported that 

Abe Silverstein was not particularly dismayed by the MA-1 fiasco and believed 

that Project Mercury was "essentially along the same time schedule as was 

initially planned." Congressman Overton Brooks, Democrat from Louisiana and 

chairman of the House Committee on Science and Astronautics, waxed much 

more critical of the speed with which Project Mercury was moving. In September 

Glennan warned Americans to be prepared for new Soviet announcements of 

space spectaculars. The Mercury astronauts repeatedly were reported confident 

that one of them could ride a ballistic trajectory either in December or January.41 

In short, the dramatic race to be first to put a man in space made such colorful 

copy that news editors generally ran stories on the space contest second only to 

news about the political contest. 

The news media both reflected and fostered a widespread restlessness over 

the apparent failure of American know-how to equal and surpass Soviet rocket 

technology. Back in October 1959, two years after Sputnik I) Newsweek had featured an article, "How to Lose the Space Race," itemizing blanket criticisms of 

all American space programs. To ensure that you have the losing ticket, advised 

Newsweek) simply "start late, downgrade Russian feats, fragment authority, pinch 

pennies, think small, shirk decisions." 42 At the beginning of 1960, Hanson W. 

Baldwin, the influential military affairs correspondent for the New York Times) 

had chided the Eisenhower administration for neglecting the power of intangible 

ideas and had advised the government to seek more advice from political rather 

than physical scientists: "It is not good enough to say that we have counted more 

free electrons in the ionosphere than the Russians have ... we must achieve the 

obvious and the spectacular, as well as the erudite and the obscure." And in July 

1960 one of the deans of space fiction and fact, Arthur C. Clarke, published a 

281 
taxpayers millions, began to be criticized more minutely. Perhaps the most 

painful sting felt by the Mercury team came from adverse publicity in Missiles and 

Rockets) a weekly defense industry trade journal, on August 15, 1960. There, 

under the heading "Is Mercury Program Headed for Disaster?" writer James 

Barr excoriated Project Mercury: 

NASA's Mercury manned-satellite program appears to be plummeting the 

United States toward a new humiliating disaster in the East-West space race. 

This is the stark conclusion that looms in the minds of a growing number 

of eminent rocket scientists and engineers as the Mercury program continues to 

slip backward. 

These experts, many of whom are already calling Mercury a latter day 

Vanguard, contend: 

The program today is more than one year behind its original schedule and 

is expected to slip to two. Therefore, it no longer offers any realistic hope of 

beating Russia in launching the first man into orbit around the earth-much 

less serve as an early stepping stone for reaching the moon. 

Despite precautions and improvements, Mercury continues to be a technically marginal program that could easily end in flaming tragedy. Mercury, 

at best, is a technical stop-gap justifiable only as an expedient. I t is no 

substitute for what is needed sooner or later, a maneuverable spacecraft similar 

to the Air Force's much hampered Dyna-Soar. 

Mercury originally had the supposed advantage of being cheap, an attribute 

that made it particularly attractive to the Administration. However, Mercury 

has proven to be a trip down a dead-end road that U.S. taxpayers are finding 

themselves paving in gold. Appropriations have reached a quarter-billion to 

date. They may double. 44 

Although Barr's animadversion could have been discounted in an election 

year as a plug for more encouragement and funding to the Air Force's Dyna-Soar 

program, the occasions for self-doubt inside Project Mercury indisputably were 

becoming more numerous. On September 16, 1960, Gilruth issued a memorandum for his staff that showed the effects of barbs like those from Barr on the 

morale of the Task Group. The subject of the memo was "Favorable Press Comments (for a change)" : 

As most of you know, there have been some adverse comments in the press 

and trade publications about the progress, or lack of progress, being made in 

Project Mercury during recent weeks. A number of members of the Space 

Task Group have expressed concern about these articles. 

In any program as broad and complex and as important to our national 

stature as Project Mercury, it is inevitable that there will be people around 

us who 'either will not agree with us, period, or who tend to disagree in one 

element or another just to be disagreeable. At the same time, there are a 

number of people around our country who do understand how much work 

and how much blood and sweat go into an undertaking of this kind. 

282 
kind of program it was designed to be, and to reflect with me upon our past 

accomplishments.45 

At NASA Headquarters there was serious concern over how to answer public criticisms. On August 14 Warren North sent the Administrator some arguments 

filling in the contextual background of Mercury schedules: 

Since the negotiation of the capsule contract, McDonnell personnel have 

averaged 14% overtime for an equivalent 56 hour week. McDonnell has 

assigned approximately 13,000 people in direct support of Project Mercury. 

In October 1959, production went on a 7-day week, three shifts per day. Since 

January 1960 capsule checkout personnel have worked three shifts per day 

seven days per week. McDonnell is also working three shifts at Cape Canaveral. During the past eighteen months, Space Task Group personnel have 

been using less than half their annual leave. Many have used essentially no 

annual leave since February 1959. Space Task Group personnel at Cape 

Canaveral worked approximately 50 hours a week preparing for flight operations. When the MA-1 capsule was delivered to the Cape on May 23, 1960, 

this group went on a 60-hour week. During the final month of MA-1 preparations, the launch operations crew was working a seventy-hour week. The 

forthcoming simultaneous operations with Atlas and Redstone will require a 

continuation of this type of effort.46 

On September 9, 1960, George Low addressed a United Press International 

editors conference at a hotel in Washington on the subject of the progress made 

in Project Mercury to date. Low ~egan by arguing against three common misconceptions about the project in the public press: Mercury was not, he said, 

"merely a stunt," not "designed only to win an important first in the space 

program," and should not "be terminated if the Soviets achieve manned orbital 

flight before we do." Firmly convinced that the Soviets now had the capability 

of achieving manned orbital flight, Low tried to persuade the opinion molders 

of the "fourth estate" to accept Mercury as an indispensable step toward Project 

Apollo, one which "must be carried out regardless of Russian achievement." 

This theme subsequently became official NASA policy. The urgency of Project 

Mercury was transferred onto the higher level of the urgency of manned space 

flight in general and for the future. "It has been a major engineering task," said 

Low, "to design a capsule that is small enough to do the mission, light enough to 

do the mission, and yet has reliable subsystems to accomplish the mission safely." 47 

Within the aerospace community of industrialists, technicians, and Government 

scientists and engineers, the context described by North and Low needed little 

explication. Experience with federally sponsored "R and D" programs since 

1940 helped them understand the difference between a project rating the "DX," 

or highest industrial procurement priority, and one designated an all-out "crash" 

program. Mercury was never a "crash" project in the sense that the Atlas ICBM 

283 
NASA and the Defense Department agreed to aid each other to avoid duplication 

and waste by means of a new Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating Board, 

with Dryden and Herbert F. York as co-chairmen. 48 

But the citizenry, through the press, saw these problems in simpler terms. 

"Project Mercury: Race or Pure Science?" was a banner headline in a Norfolk 

newspaper of September 11. Richard M. Mansfield related therein how the 

United States "space fever" had fluctuated over the previous three years: 

Gilruth gets a little angry when people talk about Mercury lagging behind 

schedule. Some say it is behind as much as a year. Gilruth says this is pure 

nonsense, that no one can properly put a specific target date on a research program that explores "new frontiers," and is beset by such "detailed problems." 

-x­ * 

Gilruth gave assurance that extra money would not have cut time appreciably. He does not believe that a blank-check crash program would save 

much time even now. 

"I think we've done our optimum," he said. "It's just like having a baby. 

Maybe (with more money) we could have had a lot more of them, but you 

wouldn't have cut the time on anyone of them." 49 

Reporter Mansfield went on to summarize the conflicting attitudes of scientists 

who "are never in a hurry," with Government employees, including scientists, who 

must respond to the demand of the electorate to "overtake the Soviets." The 

eagerness of the seven American astronauts to make their suborbital flights was 

tempered, he reported, by their recognition that the orbital venture into space 

had already slipped too far. "There is little doubt among them that the Russians 

will have been there first," said Mansfield. 

Late in September members of the military and industrial community engaged 

in aerospace and defense business watched with interest for indications where 

best to invest their votes. The editors of Missiles and Rockets addressed an open 

letter to both the Republican and the Democratic candidates for the Presidency, 

inviting comments on a "modest proposal for survival." The journal sought specific commitments on the recognition as national policy of the strategic space race 

with Russia and on the endorsement of a bold long-range program for space projects during the next decade. Candidate John F. Kennedy responded immediately 

with his concurrence that "we are in a strategic space race with the Russians, and 

we have been losing .... if a man orbits earth this year his name will be Ivan." 

To this audience Kennedy also explained one meaning of his campaign slogans 

on "moving ahead" into the "new frontier": "This is the new age of exploration; 

space is our great new frontier." Vice-President Richard M. Nixon, seeing the 

issues of an alleged "missile gap" and of national prestige loom ever larger in the 

284 
the first Tuesday in November, even though the popular vote barely showed a 

preference, it was clear that the next Chief Executive as well as the Congress 

would be Democratic and that this meant change. 

Project Mercury, as one large and unproven part of NASA, could expect to 

be influenced by "the gathering storm over space" and some sharp changes in 

the Nation's defense and space programs.51 The most forthright change to be 

expected with the new administration likely would be an honest and open admission of the competitive aspects of space technology. International negotiations 

on disarmament had failed to produce any further arms control measures since 

the 1958 Russian-American agreement to suspend atmospheric nuclear testing

Efforts in the United Nations to exempt space as an arena for internationa

rivalries, following the example of the 1959 Antarctica treaty, had so far failed

It seemed purely sentimental to act as if coexistence would become any less 

competitive. Besides, recent successes of American missiles reinforced the United 

States' foreign policy of steadfast resistance to Communist encroachments. An 

Atlas ICBM had again flown 9000 miles for a bullseye in the Indian Ocean on 

September 19, 1960; the Thor was operational, and the Polaris and Titan weapon 

systems were in active test phases. A "booster gap" there admittedly was, but the 

"missile gap" appeared closed, at least to discussion, after the election. The new 

President would probably find it politic to move speedily but cautiously toward a 

more intensive national (in contrast to a scientific-international) space program

Kennedy was historically minded and could be trusted to see "the present in perspective," but whether he would consider, as one professional historian did, 

"manned space flight as the main object of Russo-American rivalry" was entirely 

moot. 52 

Congressional attitudes before and after the election of 1960 seemed to change 

less drastically because Congress was already Democratic and had been critical 

of the Republican "no-race" thesis for three years now. Some of those legislative representatives who felt a need to justify their loyal opposition to Eisenhower and their support for manned space exploration could do so by mailing 

their constituents a congressional staff report entitled "The Practical Values of 

Space Exploration." Philip B. Yeager, a staff member of the House Committee 

on Science and Astronautics, wrote this pamphlet "to explain to the taxpayer 

just why so many of his dollars are going into the American effort to explore 

space, and to indicate what he can expect in return which is of value to him." 

Two editions of this report, before and after the election, began with a quotation 

from a Russian workman who reportedly complained in a letter published on 

the front page of Pravda for June 12, 1960: 

'''hat do Sputniks give to a person like me? ... So much money is spent 

on Sputniks it makes people gasp. If there were no Sputniks the Government 

285 
lay language five categories of values served by national space programs. Intangible values came first and included scientific curiosity and the human urge 

to do as well as to know. National security was second, and included the argument for space rivalry as a substitute for war. Economic benefits, immediate 

and remote, were described in social terms for the third category. "Values for 

everyday living" described some of the technological and medical "fallout" or 

"spin-off" from space-related research. And finally this pamphlet pointed to 

long-range values and to possible interrelationships with the population explosion, 

water shortages, soil erosion, new leisure time, and the scientific and spiritual 

aspirations of humanity. In conclusion Yeager chose to quote a paragraph, from 

an editorial in the magazine Industrial Research, which "sober study indicates ... 

may not be too 'far out' after all" : 

Space technology is probably the fastest moving, typically free enterprise 

and democratic industry yet created. It puts a premium not on salesmanship, 

but on what it needs most-intellectual production, the research payoff. 

Unlike any other existing industry, space functions on hope and future possibilities, conquest of real estate unseen, of near vacuum unexplored. At once 

it obliterates the economic reason for war, the threat of overpopulation, or cultural stagnation; it offers to replace guesswork with the scientific method for 

archeological, philosophical, and religious themes. 54 

TECHNICAL SPRINT FOR MAN IN SPACE 

Although election year reexaminations and premonitions of the Soviet Vostoks 

were disconcerting, these were the least of the conscious worries of the men 

teamed in the technological harness to get a Mercury astronaut off the ground. 

They still had a plenitude of more prosaic problems of their own. The inexorable growth of the capsule weight, the marginal performance of the Atlas 

as a launch vehicle, interface wiring and structural problems, and the worrisome 

reaction and environmental controls for the capsule were outstanding. On the 

other hand, some problems, like thermal protection during atmospheric entry 

and the physiological effects of weightlessness for a short period, were assumed 

solved for the moment. 

Benjamine J. Garland, one of Faget's fellow authors of the seminal 1958 

NACA paper for Mercury, prepared a special report for Gilruth on the probability of damage to the capsule by micrometeoroids during an orbital flight. 

Garland advised that the danger to the capsule during an orbital flight from 

sporadic meteoroid activity was very small. He calculated probabilities of hits 

during a major meteoroid shower and found the danger was "still small but 

286 
qy gpg

rocket systems proved disappointing in their later results, Gilruth's team called 

for help from the Ames and Lewis Research Centers. Robert R. Nunemake

led a group at Lewis, monitored by John B. Lee of STG, who found some serious 

difficulties with retrorocket alignment and escape tower separation. Among other 

things, they found that some igniters were faulty and that the jettisoning of the 

escape tower under certain conditions might permit a smashing recontact. 

But the most serious problem with capsule systems at this time was the outside 

chance that one or more of the three retrograde braking rockets might fail

There was considerable margin for error in the design of the retropackage, bu

there was no emergency braking system. STG's mission analysis group under 

John P. Mayer had thoroughly investigated an inflatable balloon for this pur

pose, and Gilruth himself proposed an emergency brake' that would have looked 

like a Chinese dragon kite trailing in the wake of the orbiting capsule. Thi

auxiliary drag device to back up the retrosystem and to bring the capsule down 

sooner than in the 24 hours theoretically required for a normal decay of Mercury's 

orbit was independently appraised by Howard K. Larson and others at Ames

Meanwhile John Glenn and the other astronauts asked STG's mission analyst

to study the effectiveness of a "fish-tailing" maneuver as a backup reentry mode 

of last resort. Both ideas were reported feasible, but the former was not pursued 

past the end of the year, when the reliability of the retrorockets and pyrotechnics 

began to rise appreciably. 56 

Among the number of unsolved problems regarding man-machine integration 

in late 1960, the complex final phase of the mission profile aroused much concern

If an astronaut could survive launch, insertion, orbiting, reentry, and the free-fall

nothing must jeopardize his chances to survive impact, exit from :he capsule, and 

recovery. But as the capsule developed into flight hardware, the differences 

between its theoretical design and its measurable performance required constan

restudy, redesign, and in some cases redevelopment. 57 While studying the Mercury capsule's stability in water, for example, Peter J. Armitage and E. N. Harrin 

of STG found that the deletion of the flotation bags and the addition of the 

impact skirts had seriously compromised the floating trim if not the seaworthiness 

of the capsule. 58 

After summarizing recent investigations by both McDonnell and STG engineers, Armitage and Harrin pointed out a number of unknowns and recommended 

close scrutiny of any changes to capsule center-of-gravity positions to keep the 

capsule within acceptable stability limits. While the model-makers at Langley 

were fabricating and testing 24 new impact skirts, Astronauts Shepard, Grissom, 

and Schirra practiced getting out of the capsule; it now listed at severe angles 

and sometimes even capsized. 59 

287 
vania. Fitted with a production handcontroller assembly and environmental 

control system, the gondola of the centrifuge whirled each man as if he were 

experiencing the calculated acceleration profile of the MR-3 flight. At Johnsville the astronauts gained experience in attitude and rate control, monitored the 

normal sequencing functions, and learned to cope with emergency conditions 

like overacceleration and decompression. Alan Shepard, for instance, took 10 

training "flights" during the October session. 60 

On September 8, 1960, Silverstein called to Washington NASA's and McDonnell's chief engineers at work on Mercury to discuss plans for compressing 

the Mercury-Redstone schedule by expediting the capsule systems tests and checkout procedures for capsules Nos. 5 and 7, to be flown on MR-2 and MR-3, 

respectively. Once again Silverstein asked that McDonnell a~ign independent 

systems engineers to verify all hardware installations. Especially they were to 

improve the quality of capsule No. 7 before the formal systems testing period. 

This was done during October and November; for 43 days No.7 underwent 

performance trials of all its systems except its reaction controls, automatic stabilization controls, and instrumentation and communications gear. McDonnell, Navy, 

and STG liaison inspectors tried hard to meet Silverstein's Cape delivery deadline 

of November 15, but two major discrepancies could not be allowed to pass. One 

problem had been perennial: overheating DC/AC inverters. Investigations disclosed that as long as the ambient temperature was kept below 165 degrees F 

they functioned properly. McDonnell attempted to cure this overheating problem 

by replacing the honeycombed inverter sockets with aluminum shelves that doubled 

as heat sinks.61 

The second problem was new: tiny cracks were noticed in the outer titanium 

skin of the capsule pressure vessels. Samples of fractured material were sent to 

the Battelle Memorial Institute, an endowed foundation for applied scientific 

research, at Columbus, Ohio. Battelle found that the heated zones adjacent to 

the seam welds contained an excessive amount of precipitated hydrides, compounds of hydrogen and other elements. These impurities lowered the ductility 

of the skin of the pressure vessel, increased leakage rates, and increased the danger 

of structural collapse upon impact. But since capsule No.7 had the best record 

of all in the capsule systems tests, it passed muster to begin its final factory shakedown tests on November 21, 1960. For later capsules, welding methods, vibration testing, and microscopic inspections were improved, but the long-standing 

"skin-cracking" problem required that the search be renewed for ways to eliminate 

hydride formations near the beads of fusion welds.62 

On December 1, 1960, Jerome B. Hammack, the MR-3 project engineer for 

STG, and his assistant, James T. Rose, certified that capsule No.7 was ready for 

288 
IIu1.a altitude, 11' .t&tute alle. 

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~ 75 

i 

~ ~ 50 

~ 

i 25 

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RANG£. STATUTE MItIS Spa.cecraltlaQdJ.as 

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Normal sequence of events for Mercury-Redstone flight. 

its manned mission, though some 20 days behind schedule. "The writers would 

like to stress that the majority of time spent during this period was spent on 

correction and rework rather than the actual CST and that every effort should 

be made in the future to achieve manufacturing perfection prior to the capsule 

entering CST." 63 

Meanwhile capsule No.2, being readied for the first Mercury-Redstone flight, 

was delivered to the Cape at the beginning of August. This flight, MR-l, was 

then scheduled for launching early in October. Both McDonnell and STG preflight checkout crews in Hangar S worked around the clock to make ready the 

maze of systems in their capsule. Christopher Kraft talked over Mercury command functions with the Redstone launch team under Deb-us and with Air Force 

range safety officer Lieutenant Colonel R. D. Stephens early in September. They 

then decided to fly the MR-l mission with the automatic abort system in the 

open-loop mode to lessen any possibility of a nuisance abort on this qualification 

flight. 

On a trial basis, a smaller Flight Safety Review Board for the spacecraft 

(tailored after the Atlas boards by the same name), chaired by Walter Williams 

and consisting of Astronaut Cooper, F. J. Bailey, Jr., Kenneth S. Kleinknecht, 

and William M. Bland, Jr., was established at the Cape to pass final judgment 

during the week before the countdown on the readiness of the mission. During 

the first week in October, final preparations were made to launch MR-l, and 

on the morning of October 9, 1960, an unbroken countdown proceeded to within 

22 minutes of launchtime before the shot was scrubbed because of a malfunction 

in the capsule reaction control system. G4 

289 
out helium to pressurize the hydrogen peroxide thrusters, the payload after posi

grade release might not reorient itself properly for reentry. So heavy had the workload at the Cape become that Williams decreed a maximum of 12 hours' work 

for anyone person in anyone day.G5 

The possible political significance of these launches now was seen by the press 

and by the legislative staffs on Capitol Hill and at NASA Headquarters. George 

Low's routine report for James P. Gleason, Assistant Administrator for Congres

sional Relations, carefully explained the technical reasons first for delay and then 

for speedup on the launch schedules. Regarding Little Joe 5, Gleason informed 

the staff director of the Senate space committee that NASA Headquarters was 

keeping close tabs on MR-l scheduling information because of the need to 

coordinate interagency activity, but that Little Joe' missions "requiring no major 

coordination with non-NASA organizations" had always been handled on a less 

formal basis: 

You will notice that the launch target date was delayed from October 8, 

1960, to November 11, 1960, at the time when it became apparent that the 

capsule delivery would be delayed until about August 1, 1960. Between 

August 17 and August 31, a large number of checkout difficulties was encountered in the noise and vibration test program. It was then expected that 

the capsule would not arrive at Wallops until October 5, and hence the launch 

date was moved to November 16. 

In the early part of September, the rate of progress at Langley picked up, 

and the capsule was actually shipped to Wallops on September 27th. Nevertheless, the projected launch date was not moved to an earlier date, since 

simultaneous experience with MR-1 at Cape Canaveral gave every indication 

that the prelaunch checkout would take longer than planned. 

In actual practice, the Wallops Island checkout ran very smoothly. Accordingly, a new target date of November 7 was established late in October. 

Barring difficulties during the final checkout period, and assuming that the 

weather will be clear and calm, the launching will take place on that date. 

. . . I feel that our project engineers have done an excellent job at predicting these dates; it is very seldom that actual dates on as complex a research 

and development program as this one have come out so close to the predic.ted 

dates as these have.GG 

Less out of sensitivity to the political winds than because the facts seemed to 

warrant it, the apolitical civil servants in the Task Group sent an encouraging 

status report on Project Mercury to their administrative superiors in Washington 

at the end of October 1960. There were a couple of negative items: the cause 

of the MA-l failure was still unknown, and the checkout time at the Cape for 

capsule No.2 for MR-l was stretching interminably, it seemed. On the plus 

side, three capsules (N05. 2,5, and 6 for MR-l, MR-2, and MA-2, respectively) 

were on hand,and two more (Nos. 7 and 8 for MR-3 and MA-3) were expected 

290 
flight checkout trailers supplied by McDonnell were already in full use. Pro

cedures Trainer No. 2 was being wired to its computer banks, and the groundtest qualification program seemed almost complete. 

The tracking and communications network was essentially finished, except 

for the stations at Kano, Nigeria, and on Zanzibar. The Atlas ASIS was looking 

good, and with luck the first truly complete Mercury-Atlas configuration, MA-2, 

still might possibly be flown during the quarter. Cost accounting for the program was still a black art, but according to STG's own estimates the summary of 

funds required to accomplish the Mercury mission as defined in October 1960 

approached $110 million: 67 

Mercury capsules (20). . . . . . . . . ... .. .. . . . ... ........ . . .... . $48,720,000 

Mercury boosters .. . .. ..... . . . . .. . . . .. . . . ..... ......... .. . . 25,429,000 

Mercury network (incl. operations) . .. . ....... . .. . .. . . .... ... . 18,953,000 

Mercury recovery (inc!. operations) . ........ ...... ...... . ... . . 10,573,000 

Biological and human engineering ..... .... .. .. . ... . . . .. . ... . 1,922,000 

Development program . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . .. .... . . 3,928,000 

Total . .. .... ... . .. ... . .. . $109,525,000 

LITTLE JOE 5 VOTES No 

On Election Day, November 8, 1960, Space Task Group and McDonnell 

engineers at Wallops Island finally pulled the trigger on capsule No.3, attached to 

Little Joe 5. Having planned LJ-5 for over a year as the first qualification flight 

of a production capsule to sustain abort conditions at maximum dynamic pressure, 

the hard-working crews were especially chagrined to see the disintegration of all 

their plans only 16 seconds after liftoff. At that time the escape rocket and the 

tower jettison rocket both prematurely ignited while the booster was still thrusting. 

Therefore booster, capsule, and tower stayed mated together throughout their 

ballistic trajectory until impact shattered them to fragments. 

Whether the limit switches at the clamp rings below or above the spacecraft 

were at fault, or whatever improper rigging, wiring, or voltage regulation was the 

cause, it was exceedingly hard to rationalize that something was learned from this 

flight failure. Spacecraft and booster continued on their arc 10 miles high and 

13 miles out to sea before being mangled on impact 2 minutes later. Salvage 

operations in water 72 feet deep recovered 60 percent of the booster but only 

40 percent of the capsule. 68 Extensive tests on the clamp-ring problem were 

conducted on rocket sleds at the Naval Ordnance Test Station at Inyokern, 

California. 

For well over a year Holloman Air Force Base personnel, led by Major John D. 

291 
delay in capsule delivery and a large number of checkout difficulties encountered 

in late August, especially with the booster-capsule clamp rings and pyrotechnics

led William Bland and Rodney G. Rose to persuade Gilruth to rule out the primate 

on Little Joe 5. Besides that, the second Mercury-Redstone now being groomed 

for a chimp flight represented a direct conflict in scheduling. 

As disappointing as this decision was to aeromedical personnel, including 

James P. Henry, the physician who supervised the animal program for STG, the 

managers of the Task Group felt they could not afford to risk further delays

T!Ie structural integrity of McDonnell's Mercury capsule and the escape system 

during that most critical time in the region of highest dynamic pressure had to 

be demonstrated as soon as possible. By deliberately omitting the environmenta

control system and its problems, the Task Group had hoped to concentrate on 

hardware dynamics, taking extraordinary precautions "to minimize premature 

firing of any of the capsule pyrotechnics on the launching pad." 69 Obviously 

something-no one knew what-had been overlooked. 

After the dismal failure of Little Joe 5, these bleak days for Project Mercury 

became even bleaker with the discovery that the helium leak in the capsule fo

MR-1 could not be fixed quickly; it would require the replacement of certain 

valves and the whole hydrogen peroxide tank. Furthermore a change in the 

MR-1 wiring was dictated by the poor sequence and circuitry design on Little 

Joe 5. NASA had one more Little Joe test booster on hand. One more air

frame, the last one in existence, had recently been ordered as a backup to the 

next shot. On November 10, NASA Headquarters was reassured that a stripped 

capsule on the backup booster could fulfill the Little Joe 5 mission, "an essentia

one before manned flight," probably before the end of January. And both 

Mercury-Redstone 2 and Mercury-Atlas 2 still were considered "not beyond the 

realm of possibility" for launchings in December.'o 

There was precious little in Mercury to be thankful for during the Thanks

giving season of 1960, but there was more than enough work to keep everyone in 

STG preoccupied. Caldwell C. Johnson wrote Faget a summary memo concerning the capsule's weight growth and its'effect upon Atlas performance and mission 

profiles. While McDonnell was conducting extensive tests of the impact skir

situation, Johnson and others were worried about whether it would ever work

In the light of later developments, the feI11).ent over redesign at this time became 

significant, and Johnson's words grew in significance: 

\Ve have been monitoring Mercury weight growth, McDonnell's airplaneweight history and the X-15 weight versus development phase and conclude 

that Mercury orbit weight by the time of manned flight will exceed 3000 

pounds! Capsule weight during parachute opening mode will be 2600 pounds; 

292 
appears that several separate actions are necessary. 

J. Mayer calculates that at 3000 pounds the probability of orbit insertion 

is less than 96 percent even when based upon certain Atlas performance increases. Furthermore, the possibility of an African landing from an early abort 

is very real. He says there are some reasons to believe that Atlas weight can 

be further reduced and greater payload capacity realized but so far this is but 

speculation, and, in any case, doesn't do much for the African landing situation. 

Some time ago increased retrograde capability was proposed but could not 

be justified at that time. There is little doubt that such a change is justified 

now-the question is whether posigrade impulse should likewise be increased 

to aid orbit insertion. It is tempting to combine posigrade and retrograde 

systems and to utilize the propellant as required by the particular flight situation. But, this is a rather drastic change. 71 

MR-1: THE FOUR-INCH FLIGHT 

November 21, 1960, marked the absolute nadir of morale among all the men 

at work on Project Mercury. That was the day the MR-1 countdown reached 

zero, and when "all we did was to launch the escape tower." 

Capsule No.2 had been checked out at Huntsville on July 21 and shipped 

to the Cape the next day. The final standard trajectory was published on 

August 1, and the Redstone booster was delivered two days later. From July 23, 

when the capsule was airlifted to the Cape, until October 7, extensive internal 

reworking was required. Since this was the first complete capsule to be subjected to preflight checks, it was impossible to know precisely how long the 

checkout would take. Gleason of NASA Headquarters had explained these 

scheduling gymnastics to the Senate committee staff on November 3 : 

Between October 6 and October 31, 1960, the work proceeded exceedingly 

well. By October 24, for example, first mate had been completed. The rework 

had been accomplished and the simulated mission and servicing had been 

carried out. Not only had none of the contingency period been used up, but 

preparations were actually two days ahead of schedule! It was, therefore, 

hoped for the first time, that the working level target date might actually be 

met, assuming that some as yet unresolved electrical troubles would not cause 

any real delays. 

On October 31, the final mating of the capsule and booster was accomplished. Still two days ahead of the target date established on October 7. 

Therefore, it became clear, upon examination of the remaining work, that the 

launching might take place on November 7. Accordingly, the Project Mercury 

operations director requested range clearance for November 7 and also requested support by Naval recovery forces for this date. 

Because of the continuing great urgency of Project Mercury, and because 

each succeeding launching hinges critically on the dates of previous launchings, 

the selection of November 7 as a launch date for l\1R-1 was the only possible 

293 
unnecessary delays if all went well during the final checkout period. 72 

MR-1 was on the launch table on November 7, 1960, when the helium pressure dropped from 2250 pounds per square inch to 500 pounds in the capsule 

control system, and the mission was scrubbed again. The capsule was removed 

from its booster and the heat shield was removed from the capsule so that a helium 

relief valve and the toroidal hydrogen peroxide tank could be replaced. A wiring 

change was made to avoid a failure of the Little Joe variety, and electrical sequence 

checks were redone as reassembly proceeded. Then, on November 21, MR-1 was 

reassembled and the final countdown proceeded normally, with the exception of a 

one-hour hold to fix another leak in the capsule's hydrogen peroxide system. The 

Mercury Control Center was manned for the first time. At 9 a.m. Redstone 

ignition occurred precisely as scheduled. 

The expected blast momentarily churned the air around launch complex No. 

56. But then the roar stopped as suddenly as it had started. Watching by periscope from the blockhouse, the startled engineers saw the booster wobble slightly on 

its pedestal and settle back on its fins after, at the very most, a four-or-five-inch 

liftoff. The Rocketdyne A-7 engine shut down, and the escape pylon zipped up 

4000 feet and landed about 400 yards away from the launch site. Three seconds 

after the escape rocket blew, the drogue package shot upward, and then the main 

chute spurted out of the top of the capsule followed by the reserve parachute, and 

both fluttered down alongside the Redstone. 

Mercury-Redstone 1 was the most distressing, not to say embarrassing, failure 

so far in Project Mercury. Critics waxed unrestrained. Even the Redstone experts 

seemed disconcerted. 73 Technically it seemed inexplicable that the normal, instead 

of the abort ejection, sequence had followed engine shutdown. George Low later 

that day carried STG's report to the NASA Headquarters staff on what they 

thought had happened: 

Apparently, sufficient thrust had developed to lift the booster at least %2 

inch, thereby activating all the systems. (This would require more than 85% 

of nominal thrust.) The booster settled back down on the pad, damaging the 

tail fins, and perhaps the structure as well (some wrinkles are visible in the 

shell). The reason for this shutdown is unknown-the only shutdown to the 

booster could have come from the booster programmer, at the end of the 

normal flight sequence. Just how this programmer malfunctioned cannot be 

determined without a detailed inspection. 

The capsule sequence ... was a normal one for the type of signal it 

received. A closed-loop abort sensing system would have given an abort signal 

under the conditions of this launching, carrying the capsule away in a regular 

off-the-pad abort sequence. 

At the time of this writing, the booster destruct system is still armed, and 

294 
over in a high-wind condition. Weather predictions, however, are good. It is 

planned to put the gantry around the booster in the morning, under the 

assumption that the Redstone has not shifted sufficiently to make this impossible. This will be followed by booster and capsule disarming and sequence 

checks to determine the cause of the failure . 

The extent of damage to the capsule has not yet been assessed. Assuming 

a minimum of damage, it is planned to use the same capsule, together with the 

MR-3 booster, for the MR-l firing. It will probably take a month before 

this launching can take place. 74 

MR-1 

Nov. 21, 1960 

Mercury-Redstone J has just H blown its 

stack" on the launch pad, seconds after 

ignition. After, at most, a four-or-fiv einch liftoff, M R-J launched its escape 

tower but not the capsule. Then followed the normal flight sequence of 

parachute deployment. The drogue 

chute is shown here deploying just after 

ejection of the antenna canister. A few 

seconds later would come the main and 

reserve main parachutes. 
The MR-l failure is now believed to have been caused by a booster tail 

plug which is pulled out about one inch after liftoff. 

It has been determined that this two-prong plug is designed so that one 

prong disconnects about one-half inch before the second one does. This time 

interval b~tween disconnect of the first and second prongs for MR-1 was 21 

milliseconds. 

The booster circuitry is such that if one of these prongs is disconnected 

prior to the other and while the booster is not grounded, a relay will close 

giving a normal engine cutoff signal. The time interval between successive 

disconnects was apparently just sufficient to allow the relay to close. 

I t is reasoned that Redstone missiles are somewhat lighter than the Mercury Redstone (with its extended tank), thereby giving higher initial acceleration and shorter time intervals between disconnects between the two prongs. 

This shorter time interval would be sufficient to allow the relay to close, thus 

having avoided this type of failure in the past. 

This relay behavior could not be detected during checkout procedures since 

it will only occur when the booster is not grounded. 

The above theory of failure was advanced by Marshall personnel at Cape 

Canaveral and has not been confirmed by Marshall-Huntsville. It is planned 

to continue tests at Huntsville using the Mercury-Redstone No.2 booster to 

verify this hypothesis. 7 ;J 

Within a week, MR-1 was rescheduled for December 19, and MR-2 an

MR-3 had been postponed until 1961. Low informed Silverstein that "Th

MR-1 capsule will be used as is, together with the escape tower from Capsule 8

and the antenna fairing from Capsule 10. The MR-3 booster will be use

for this shot." 7G There was no longer any question that the mating of booster an

spacecraft should be done at the Cape. 

Physicists observing MR-1 might have expected someone among the 500

members of the Marshall Center to have guarded against the relativity of simul

taneity where electrical signals were concerned, but McDonnell and Task Grou

engineers dared not taunt their fellow workers on the Redstone about the caus

of the "four-inch flight" of MR-1. They were happy that the sequence system 

on the capsule performed perfectly, but they too felt responsible for the failur

of the MR-1 capsule to abort. Meanwhile Joachim P. Kuettner and Earl Butle

at Huntsville, and Kurt Debus and Emil P. Bertram at the Cape, franticall

drove the men of their respective Redstone-Mercury Office and Launch Operation

Directorate to hasten preparations for MR-1A. By mid-December 1960, th

Redstone team assured Washington that the repeat flight was almost ready: 

The November 21 type event will be avoided, in the future, by the addition 

of a ground cable sufficiently long to maintain a good ground connection until 

all umbilical plugs are pulled. In addition, the booster circuitry has been 

296 
Minor additional improvements were made to the capsule systems, a revised 

master operational schedule was issued, the Mercury ground control operations 

team was brought up to full strength, and Jerome Hammack, STG's Redstone 

project engineer, along with Paul C. Donnelly, the Mercury-Redstone test conductor in the blockhouse, worried through each day, hour, and minute before 

December 19. 

MR-l A: SUBORBITAL QUALITY PROVEN 

Early in the morning of December 19, winds of 150 knots aloft in the jet 

stream required a 40-minute hold. During the countdown another solenoid valve 

in the capsule's hydrogen peroxide system had to be replaced, necessitating a recycle of the count by one hour. So it was 45 minutes before noon when the 

dramatic final 10 seconds of countdown for MR-IA occurred. This time there 

were no fouls. The 83-foot Mercury-Redstone assembly was cheered on-"Go! 

Fly, bird! Go !"- as it lifted off, burning brightly for 143 seconds to a velocity 

(slightly high) of 7120 feet per second at cutoff. With this impetus, MR-IA 

coasted on up to 131 miles, its maximum altitude, then nosed over while the bolts 

in the mating-ring exploded as planned and the booster and its payload parted 

company. The capsule behaved perfectly in its attitude control and came down 

along its predestined trajectory to impact 235 miles from Cape Canaveral, 18 miles 

beyond the desired target impact point. 

A P2V aircraft pilot saw the capsule descending on its parachute at 4000 feet, 

and about 35 minutes after launch a Marine helicopter from the aircraft carrier 

Valley Forge retrieved the capsule, and returned it secure to the flight deck of the 

carrier within 48 minutes from launch. This time Low elatedly reported to 

Glennan that "the launching was an unqualified success." 78 

The Goddard Space Flight Center computers, both men and machines, performed admirably in making their first "real-time" impact prediction. On the 

Valley Forge sailors crowded everywhere topside. Visual inspections of the 

capsule by a NASA recovery inspection team revealed no damage except a crack 

in one outer layer of glass in one capsule porthole. 

Exuberance was obvious in the postlaunch reports of the various participants. 

Howard C. Kyle, the capsule communicator, said, "Except for a few minor discrepancies during the countdown, all equipment appeared to operate normally. 

Technical support was universally superb." Tecwyn Roberts, the flight dynamics 

officer, wrote, "All communications checked A. OK. Data selection loop had 

some noise, but intelligible communication was possible at all times." Henry E. 

Clements, a captain in the Air Force and network status monitor, reported all 

297 
cury-Redstone 1) was successfully undertaken 2

days later) on December 19) 1960. The electrica

ground cable that had caused the failure o

MR-1 had been lengthened. Here) during lox

ing for a flight readiness test) frost shows on th

rocket and steam on the ground. Slight over

acceleration of both this and the M R-2 booste

caused an extra Redstone flight to be inserted i

the Mercury schedule. The recovered space

craft is shown below the day after the flight at th

Cape being inspected by Charles]. Donlan (left)

Robert Gilruth) and Maxime Faget; it cam

through the brief flight in excellent condition
calculated value. If a similar overshoot occurs with the new profile being 

proposed on future MR flights, we are reaching the point where the astronaut 

has demonstrated inability to stay alert and to keep up with the events. The 

consequence of this aberration from predicted should be discussed before the 

new profile is accepted.'D 

Later, when the movies from the onboard camera were developed and shown, 

clean-room engineers and workers saw the necessity for still higher standards of 

cleanliness. Washers, nuts, and wire clippings came out from hidden niches and 

floated freely around the cabin during the weightless period. But otherwise, 

the Mercury team felt the pendulum of luck beginning to swing back in their favor 

at the end of 1960. They were proud of the Christmas gift represented by the 

demonstration of suborbital capability of the hardware in MR-1A. 

Perhaps the most significant result of the Little Joe 5 and MR-1 failures was 

a profound reexamination among the managers of Project Mercury of their original 

design philosophy. Warren North reported to Silverstein at Headquarters on 

December 6 the results of a series of discussions among field hands on the subject 

of man-machine integration: 

During the week of November 27, Messrs. Gilruth, Williams, Mathews, 

Preston, Bland, Ricker, Fields, Roberts and others conducted a major review 

of the capsule and booster sequence logic in an effort to determine what improvements could be made to prevent incidents such as occurred during Little 

Joe 5 and MR-l. Also involved in the week long series of discussions at Cape 

Canaveral were key personnel from McDonnell (including Burke), Convair, 

Marshall, and Aerospace. 

As a result of operational experience, it was apparent that some of the 

original design philosophy should -be changed, especially insofar as the role of 

the pilot is concerned. It has become obvious that the complexity of the 

capsule and booster automatic system is compounded during the integration 

of the systems. The desirability of avoiding, for manned missions, a direct 

link between capsule and booster systems, is therefore being studied. For 

example, the Little Joe-type failure would be averted by the use of an open 

loop manually controlled abort system. Similarly, the escape tower would 

not have jettisoned during the MR-l launch attempt if this had been a manned 

flight with manual control over the escape rocket and capsule sequence 

system.

80 

Meanwhile the Atlas, the basic vehicle to propel Mercury into orbit, also was 

undergoing its most critical examination. A special ad hoc technical investigating 

committee, established on December 19, 1960, composed of both NASA and 

Air Force personnel, and headed by Richard V. Rhode of NASA Headquarters 

and Colonel Paul E. Worthman of the Ballistic Missile Division, was ordered 

to investigate the reasons why the Atlas had failed so often on NASA launches. 

Called the Rhode-Worthman Committee informally, the dozen members, rep299 
and subsequent action, the Rhode-Worthman group began with those inconclusiv

records and a set of 12 agreements on launch conditions for MA-2. Paul Purse

and Robert E. Vale flew to Los Angeles the day after Christmas to defend STG

position on MA-1 and to expedite Convair's construction of a "quick-fix" solu

tion for MA-2 and its fabrication of "thick-skin" Atlases for subsequent Mercur

flights. Other members of the committee distrusted the original design for th

"quick fix," which was in the form of a "belly band," or girdle, to strengthen th

interface area around "station 502" on the Atlas booster, where the adapter rin

for the capsule nested against the lox dome. Later the dissenting committe

members supported a revised version of the fix after a number of their suggestion

had been integrated. Both Chamberlin and Yardley had suggested the "bell

band," but Hohmann disagreed. On December 31, 1960, Purser warne

Charles Donlan, back at Langley Field, that STG and Convair might be overrule

by Aerospace, STL, BMD, and NASA Headquarters representatives. As it turne

out, on the second day of the new year Rhode sent a message to Seamans at NAS

Headquarters that recommended great caution regarding the decision to inco

porate the "quick fix," as many of the committee felt that it added uncertainty an

possibly a new set of hazards. If so, MA-2 might have to wait three to six month

more for a "thick-skin" Atlas from the factory.81 

The year 1960 ended in suspense for the Mercury team. The Soviet attemp

on December 1-2, 1960, to orbit and retrieve two more dogs from space had, a

the Soviets admitted, ended in cremation for "Pchelka" and "Mushka" when the

attitude control system failed at retrofire and their vehicle, Korab! Sputnik III

burned up on reentry from its rather too shallow orbit. To appraise the meanin

of the flight of the Soviets' third man-sized spaceship from available informatio

was exceedingly difficult. Obviously the Soviets were close to the day whe

they could put a man into orbit, but the similar failures of their first and thir

"cosmic ships," on May 19 and December 2, respectively, had made the questio

"How close?" highly debatable.8:) 

On December 5, a member of the Soviet Academy of Science, G. Pokrovsky

had extolled the "socialist system," in spite of its failure to recover Pchelka an

Mushka, and boasted that "we are on the threshold of manned space flight, an

the first man to be in space will undoubtedly be a Soviet citizen." That same day

Time magazine had bemoaned "Lead-Footed Mercury" and ridiculed Wernhe

von Braun's calling MR-1 "a little mishap": "Project Mercury's latest failure

third in a row, just about evaporated the last faint wisp of hope that the U.S

might put a man into space before Russia does." ANew York Times editoria

agreed with that evaluation and advised the new President-elect to persevere

"The first man in space will not be the last, and after the tributes have been pai

300 
Although there was some exultation in the United States after the success of 

MR-IA on December 19, the public seemed to sense, without any deep understanding, a difference of several orders of magnitude between Soviet space flight 

tests and American qualification flight difficulties. Within the Space Task Group, 

NASA, and the Mercury team, technical understanding, sometimes divorced from 

political intuition, appeared to buttress the hope that an American manned ballistic flight into space might still precede the substantially more difficult manned 

orbital flight around Earth. Manned space flight was a name for a series of field 

events in the space olympics. Although the odds were with the Soviet~ to win the 

marathon of the first orbital circumnavigation, perhaps Mercury might win the 

suborbital sprint. 

301 
 

........................................................................................................................................................... 
 

Tests Versus Time in the Race for Space 

(JANUARY-APRIL 1961) 

ON January 3, 1961, two years and three months after it was formed, the 

Space Task Group officially became a separate, autonomous NASA field 

element charged with the conduct of Project Mercury and any other manned space 

flight programs that might follow it. The Task Group, now composed of 667 

people, was still located physically on the Hampton Roads side of the Langley Air 

Force Base and was supported by the Langley Research Center, but now the 

administrative marriage of STG with the Goddard Space Flight Center in Beltsville, 

Maryland, was annulled. 1 The Mercury team had not yet managed to launch a 

manned rocket, but neither apparently had their Russian counterparts. The 

iTnited States still had a good chance to place the first man in space, at least for 

five minutes. The Soviet lead in orbital flight tests argued heavily against the first 

manned satellite being American, but to score first would still be some consolation. 

In only three years and three months since Sputnik /J the Soviet Union and 

the United States had launched into space a total of 42 vehicles, 38 of which were 

Earth satellites, three were solar satellites, and one was a lunar probe. The box 

score in the "space race" between the United States and the Soviet Union was 33 

to 9 in favor of the home team, as far as publicly successful space launchings were 

concerned. But with only nine acknowledged launchings the U.S.S.R. had 

hoisted some 87,000 pounds (as opposed to the U.S. total of 34,240 pounds), 

the Soviets had hit the Moon and photographed its backside, and they had 

recovered two dogs from one Earth orbital flight. Of the 33 American space 

launches, only three had been done by NASA launch vehicles and crews. Of 

the remainder, 24 had been launched by Air Force rockets, five by Army boosters, 

one by the Navy. In contrast to the responsibility for launching these 31 Earth 

satellites and two solar satellites, the credit for building the instrumented payloads 

was spread more widely; the Air Force counted 15 successes, the Army and Navy 

four each, and NASA 10 spacecraft. Already the complexity of accounting 

properly for mankind's successful satellite and space probe projects was reaching 

formidable proportions.:! 

303 
After listing all the successes of American instrumented payloads in space, Eisen

hower said: 

These achievements make us unquestionably preeminent today in space 

exploration for the betterment of mankind. I believe the present organizational arrangements in this area, with the revisions proposed last year, ar.e 

completely adequate for the tasks ahead. 3 

At this same time, President-elect John F. Kennedy announced that Jerom

B. Wiesner of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, who had chaired th

Democratic science advisory committee for the campaign, would become the ne

Presidential special assistant for science and technology. And with this announce

ment Kennedy released most of a special report made to him by Wiesner's com

mittee of nine campaign advisers on the state of the Nation's security and prestig

A political document, the "Wiesner Report" called for a sweeping reorganizatio

of the national space program. It was critical of past leadership and direction

and it called for more effective use of the National Aeronautics and Space Counci

better coordination with the Department of Defense, stronger technical manage

ment, and a closer partnership with industry. On top of all this came the unco

roborated news that an Army officer had told a seminar of almost 500 civilia

and military participants that the United States had good evidence that at lea

one and probably two Soviet cosmonauts had been killed in unsuccessful attemp

to orbit a man during Premier Khrushchev's visit to the United States in Septembe

1960. 4 

INTERREGNUM 

On January 16, 1961, President Eisenhower delivered his annual budge

message to Congress, asking for amendments to the Space Act of 1958 an

referring to Project Mercury with far less confidence than he had shown five day

earlier: 

In the program for manned space flight, the reliability of complex booster, 

capsule, escape, and life-support components of the Mercury system is now 

being tested to assure a safe manned ballistic flight into space, and hopefully 

a manned orbital flight, in calendar year 1961. Further testing and experimentation will be necessary to establish whether there are any valid scientific 

reasons for extending manned spaceflight beyond the Mercury program. 5 

Members of the Space Task Group and of the Mercury team at large coul

take little comfort from the fact that this speaker was an outgoing President, fo

they also knew that the incoming President's scientific policy adviser had bee

quite critical of the "marginal" Mercury-Atlas program. Regarding "man-in

space," the Wiesner Committee had said: 

304 
tains of the earth. There are also dimly perceived military and scientific 

missions in space which may prove to be very important. 

By having placed highest national priority on the Mercury program, we 

have strengthened the popular belief that man in space is the most important 

aim of our non-military space effort. The manner in which this program has 

been publicized in our press has further crystallized such belief. It exaggerates 

the value of that aspect of space activity where we are less likely to achieve 

success, and discounts those aspects in which we have already achieved great 

success and will probably reap further successes in the future. G 

When the managers of NASA and of STG, a few days later, became aware 

of the earlier, longer, confidential version of the Wiesner report, they were reminded of Mercury's tenuous standing as an urgent, but not an indispensable, 

"crash" program. If they should fail on their first attempt to place a man in 

space, or to put him in orbit, or to recover him from orbit, they not only would 

sacrifice a human life but create a national humiliation. Mercury managers had 

always been acutely aware of these portents, but the low status of Mercury in real 

and rumored policy papers made these days dar~er than ever. Wiesner's Committee recommended that Kennedy not allow "the present Mercury program 

to continue unchanged for more than a very few months," and that he not "effectively endorse this program and take the blame for its possible failures." Above all 

else the Wiesner Committee recommended that: 

We should stop advertising l\tfercury as our major objective in space activities. Indeed, we should make an effort to diminish the significance of this 

pro~ram to its proper proportion before the public, both at home and abroad . 

VVe ~hould find effective means to make people appreciate the cultural, public 

service, and military importance of space activities other than space travel.' 

Next to Mercury, the Wiesner group was most critical of the Nation's booster 

program, particularly of the inability of United States rockets to lift heavy payloads into space. Measured by rocket thrust, Russian superiority continued 

unchallenged. Profound criticism was levelled at the Atlas, which was now 

truly operational as a weapon system, but which had failed signally in its five most 

recent tests as a launch vehicle for NASA payloads. Wiesner's committee recommended vigorous study of the Titan missile as an alternative Mercury launcher, 

but STG had already studied and rejected the Titan as a launch vehicle.s 

Whereas there seemed to be threats of cancellation or modification of Project 

Mercury from all sides, the Mercury teammates knew from their MR-IA experience of December 19, 1960, that nothing succeeds like success. While some of 

them carefully but hurriedly made ready for MR- 2, others just as desperately 

sought to ensure the success of MA-2. 

In moments of respite from its hectic pace, STG could see three essential tasks 

that had to be performed within a matter of weeks if the Task Group was to 

305 
imperative need to test and prove as soon as possible the Mercury-Atlas combination, even if only on an elementary ballistic flight.!l 

The admittedly "hasty" Wiesner report was received by the press with mixed 

reactions. According to the Washington Post, the study was tacitly adopted by 

the President-elect when he named Wiesner, simultaneously with its release

Chairman of the President's Science Advisory Committee (PSAC) for the new 

administration. Aviation Week said that Kennedy had rejected the committee's 

advice to revamp or scrap Mercury and that he had decided to risk receiving the 

blame if the first manned shot failed. To Roscoe Drummond, a syndicated 

columnist, the Wiesner report read like "a melange of observations based on super

ficial study." Drummond was highly critical of the entire political transition

noting that T. Keith Glennan had departed from Washington on Inauguration 

Day, January 20, 1961, leaving NASA headless, since no one had yet been named 

as his successor. Hugh L. Dryden, too, had resigned in accordance with protocol

but he remained on hand until he should be relieved. Drummond further 

charged that no Kennedy representative had consulted NASA to study the workings of the agency nor had any Kennedy official read or listened to briefings tha

had been prepared for the new leaders by outgoing Administrator Glennan and 

his staff.10 

In this time of transition NASA officials expected a stronger challenge to the 

civilian space agency's sphere of influence from the military, perhaps supported 

by some defense industry contractors. Part of the "military-industrial com

plex" against which Eisenhower had warned in his farewell address seemed 

to be lobbying to shrink NASA's function to that of the former NACA-applied 

research and development engineering.l1 The retiring President also had 

warned against the domination of science by the needs of the Federal governmen

and against the domination of public policy by a "scientific-technological elite." 

On the other hand, the editors of Aviation Week had expressed alarm severa

times over NASA's tendency toward enlargement of its own technical bureaucracy 

and assimilation of other space research organizations. 12 Whether or not there 

was actually any "power struggle" among the Air Force, Army, and Navy ove

the spoils from a stripped NASA, any such fears of the Pentagon were premature 

while the Mercury-Redstone attempt to fly and recover an "astrochimp" was stil

pending. 

For some time, NASA had endured attacks from various eminent American 

men of science. The Wiesner report both reflected and encouraged such attitudes. Vannevar Bush, James R. Killian, and George B. Kistiakowsky were al

long since on record as considering manned space flight a technological luxury 

that ought not to be allowed to eclipse more urgent scientific necessities. Even 

306 
ppgg

into official policy under the Eisenhower administration, whose last budget recommended a manned space flight research and development cut of $190.1 million 

from NASA's request for fiscal year 1962 of $1,109,600,000. The Bureau of the 

Budget in January allowed a total NASA request of $919.5 million, only $114 

million of which was earmarked for manned space flight, including Project 

Mercury. Some $584 million was requested for military astronautics within the 

total $41.2 billion request for the Defense Department's budget. 14 Surely this 

contrast in funding carried significant meaning. 

The criticisms of NASA and its struggle for money in Washington were serious 

enough, but of far greater concern to the civil servants, contractors, and servicemen working with NASA and STG was the problem of "Mercury-rating" the 

Atlas. Since the unsolved MA-1 disaster at the end of July 1960 had been blamed 

on, but never isolated in, the interface area where the capsule and booster 

were mated, both the Air Force and NASA shared uneasily the responsibility 

for finding preventive medicine before MA-2 could be launched. 

The Wiesner Committee apparently had been unaware of the Rhode-W orthman Committee, established on December 19, 1960, four days after the explosion 

of the Atlas-Able 5-D Moon proble. NASA and the Air Force, acutely aware 

of Wiesner's activity, were pressuring the high-level investigating committee of 

seasoned engineers to find solutions to the interface problem. NASA Headquarters was very much concerned by the poor performance of the lighter-gauge 

Atlas modified for NASA launches and by the inability of STG and the Air Force 

complex to pinpoint the reason for the MA-1 failure. Richard V. Rhode, NASA 

Headquarters' senior structural engineer, was sent to California to press for a 

solution. The Air Force Ballistic Missile Division, under Major General o. J. 

Ritland and Brigadier General H. W. Powell, likewise had appointed a senior 

technical officer, Colonel Paul E. Worthman, to work with Rhode as co-chairman. 

During the last week of December 1960 and the first week of January 1961, the 

12 members of the Rhode-Worthman Committee met continuously at Convair / 

Astronautics in San Diego and at the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division in Los 

Angeles. One of the objectives of this meeting was to find a majority agreement on the diagnosis for MA-1 and the prognosis for MA-2. Paul E. Purser and 

Robert E. Vale, representing STG, with the aid of G. L. Armstrong of Convair, 

argued that a "quick-fix belly band" could be effectively used to reinforce the 

structural strength of the "thin-skinned" Atlas. Specifically they had in mind 

Atlas No. 67-D, which had been at the Cape since September, being prepared 

for mating with capsule No.6 for the MA-2 launch. On the other hand, Bernhard A. Hohmann of Aerospace urged strengthening the adapter ring. James A. 

Chamberlin forthwith had redesigned the fillets and stringers in that casing also. 

307 
unanimously, agreed not to wait for a replacement booster. NASA assumed 

the risk of a messy technical and political situation in the event of failure, and 

the Air Force agreed to make every effort to push MA-2 through the region of 

maximum aerodynamic and political stress as soon as possible. But precisely how 

to do this still remained debatable. 15 

New band stiffeners in the adapter ring, some 20 extra accelerometers, strain 

gauges, pressure sensors, and mandatory operational restrictions for mild weather, 

winds, and complete photographic coverage, plus the use of the improvised truss 

or corset, called the "belly band," for MA-2, were all included in the interim 

report of the Rhode-Worthman Committee, issued on January 19, 1961. The 

joint team effort required for these decisions, said Purser to Rhode, "admittedly 

has not always been easy, but we believe it has worked. 'Resolution of conflicts of technical judgment' has been achieved by mutual discussion and education rather than by manager edicts." 16 The reluctance of Aerospace and 

STL representatives to accept the "belly band" truss was symbolized at first by 

their use of the invidious metaphor "horse collar" to describe it. So apt and 

fitting was the "horse collar" in distributing the load of max q over the Atlas 

airframe that all parties accepted the nickname and the hardware by midFebruary. Meanwhile work proceeded frantically in laboratories and wind 

tunnels at Ames and at Tullahoma, Tennessee, to provide all the information 

possible through simulated conditions before subjecting this "quick-fix" to a 

flight test. But there was great drama and suspense in the technological preparations for the vitally important launching known as Mercury-Atlas 2.17 

Now that Vice-President Lyndon B. Johnson, an early advocate of a strong 

space program and slated to become the new chairman of the strengthened Space 

Council, promised energetic leadership among the countervailing powers in 

Washington, the aerospace community waited impatiently to hear who would be 

named the new NASA Administrator. Kennedy assigned Johnson this task of 

selection. Considering Johnson's long-standing interest in space matters, many 

observers had supposed that the selection would be made soon after the election 

and that the designee might be a member of the Wiesner Committee.ls But the 

case was not so simple. The problem seemed to be one of settling on qualifications 

and then finding a man who would agree to preside over an agency with an uncertain future. The risk of becoming a political scapegoat was great indeed. The 

Wiesner report stipulated that one of the prerequisites for a member of the Space 

Council was that he be technically well-informed, and this requirement would 

apply also to the NASA Administrator. But whereas a university scientist with 

engineering and executive experience might meet this qualification, Washington 

and management experience also was essential. 19 

308 
Administrator. Johnson, in turn, received suggestions from his former Con

gressional colleagues on the space committees, and Wiesner called to Washington 

the man who accepted the post. On February 2, 1961, Senator Robert S. Kerr, 

Democrat from Oklahoma and Johnson's successor as chairman of the Senate 

Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, presided at the confirmation 

hearings on the nomination of James Edwin Webb. 

An experienced business head of numerous corporations, a lawyer, Director 

of the Bureau of the Budget from 1946 to 1949, and Under Secretary of the 

Department of State from 1949 to 1951, James E. Webb also had been a director 

6f the McDonnell Aircraft Corporation and a reserve officer and pilot in the 

Marine Corps. Although his background was not that of a scientist, he was 

widely known in governmental and industrial circles for having worked with 

scientists on committees and with engineers as a director of such organizations 

as Educational Services, Incorporated; the Oak Ridge Institute of Nuclear 

Studies; Sperry Gyroscope Company; and as a trustee of George Washington 

U ni versi ty . 20 

Webb's appointment as NASA Administrator came as a surprise to those 

who expected one of the Wiesner Committee to be chosen. A few critics said 

that he lacked the technical background necessary to attract scientists and eminent 

engineers to NASA and that his nomination was a result of Senator Kerr's influence. But Wiesner supported and the Senate confirmed Webb's nomination 

after Webb severed all his business connections with McDonnell Aircraft. His 

active interest in science suggested that Webb would strive to keep a balance 

between science and technology in space activities. His governmental and 

executive experience promised that he could work well with the Bureau of the 

Budget and with the aerospace industries to promote NASA's interests. Webb's 

intellectual interests in public administration and .international affairs indicated 

that he might become instrumental in achieving international agreements to 

prevent space from becoming a new theater for conflict in the cold war. Indeed, 

Webb's supporters felt certain that he actively would invite the Soviets to cooperate in American space exploration projects, a proposal that Kennedy had 

made notable in his inaugural address?l 

With a vigorous new Administrator as its spokesman, and with the reconfirmation of Dryden as second in command, NASA quickly regained confidence 

regarding the scientific, budgetary, and military-industrial obstacles to its manned 

space flight program. In facing the military, Webb had the support of Representative Overton Brooks, chairman of the House Committee on Science and 

Astronautics. Eariy in 1961, Brooks became the first highly placed government 

official to lambaste the presumed campaign to build, at the expense of NASA, 

a stronger military space program.22 

309 
, , ppy 

to make sure the Mercury-Redstone combination was prepared for the first 

manned suborbital flights. Now, according to the progressive buildup plan, the 

reliability of the system required demonstration by the second Mercury-Redstone 

(MR-2) flight, with a chimpanzee aboard, as a final check to man-rate the 

capsule and launch vehicle. 

Preparations for the MR-2 mission had begun long before the actual flight. 

Between manufacturing the capsule and flight readiness certification, several 

months of testing and reworking were necessary at the McDonnell plant, at 

Marshall Space Flight Center, and at Cape Canaveral. Capsule No.5, designated for the MR-2 flight, had been near the end of its manufacturing phase 

in May 1960. When it was completed, inspectors from the Navy Bureau of 

Weapons stationed at St. Louis, in cooperation with STG's liaison personnel at 

McDonnell, watched it go through a specified series of tests, and the contractor 

corrected all detected deficiencies. 23 After capsule systems tests and factory acceptance tests, capsule No. 5 was loaded into an Air Force cargo plane and 

shipped to Marshall Space Flight Center on September 3, 1960. At Huntsville, 

Wernher von Braun's team hurried through its checkouts of the compatibility 

of capsule No.5 with Redstone booster No.2, and had finished well before its 

16-day time limit.24 On October 11, 1960, the capsule arrived by air at the 

Cape, where the first checkout inspections, under the direction of F. M. Crichton, 

uncovered more discrepancies, raising to 150 the total of minor rework jobs to 

be done. Because of the complexities of the stacked and interlaced seven miles 

of wiring and plumbing systems in the Mercury capsule, however, each minor 

discrepancy became a major cost in the time necessary for its correction. Check· 

out work in Hangar S required 50 days for systems tests and 60 days for rework. 

The capsule designated for the first manned space flight, No.7, also had arrived 

at the Cape for preflight checkouts, but the launch vehicle for MR-2 was delivered to the Cape by air freight on December 20, 1960, the day after MR-IA 

was launched. It too had undergone exhaustive reliability testing in the shops 

and on the stands in the hills west of Huntsville, Alabama. When Joachim 

P. Kuettner, representing von Braun, transferred the MR-2 booster to Emil P. 

Bertram, representing Kurt H. Debus' Launch Operations Directorate, their 

confidence in this particular booster of the "Old Reliable" series was high but 

not towering.25 

Using the "quick-look" evidence from the MR-IA flight, Marshall guidance 

engineers set about correcting the conditions that had made the trajectory too 

steep and accelerations too high. MR-IA had climbed to its programmed 

apogee of about 130 miles and landed 235 miles downrange, and high altitude 

310 
Operations, agreed with H. F. Gruene and Kuettner that the MR2 trajectory 

should be flattened. An apogee of 115 miles on a downrange distance of 290 

miles should be well within the allowable safety limits. Gruene and others 

calculated that this trajectory would still provide almost five minutes of weightless flight and a reentry deceleration of 109. Since this g load was slightly 

less than that desired by STG, Williams had to use his best persuasion during a 

series of consultations on the reentry loads to get Marshall to match the 12-g median 

reentry load by moving the engine cutoff time ahead to assure such conditions. 

At the same time, the range safety officer felt that the designated 105-degree 

launching azimuth was uncomfortably close to the shoreline. Williams, Charles 

W. Mathews, and Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., held out against a requested change to 

a 100-degree azimuth, because they wanted to minimize pilot retrieval time in 

case of an abort. To this STG later acceded, in exchange for its point on the 

12-g reentry load; Marshall added a timer switch that would cut off the ignition 

if the accelerometer cutoff signal should fail before fuel depletion. 26 

Capsule No. 5 contained several significant innovations. There were five 

new systems or components that had not been qualified in previous flights: 

the environmental control system, the attitude stabilization control system, the 

live retrorockets, the voice communications system, and the "closed loop" abort 

sensing system. Capsule No.5 also was the first in the flight series to be fitted 

with a pneumatic landing bag. This plasticized fabric, accordion-like device was 

attached to the heatshield and the lower pressure bulkhead; after reentry and 

before landing the heatshield and porous bag were to drop down about four feet, 

filling with air to help cushion the impact. Once in the water, the bag and 

heatshield should act as a sort of sea anchor, helping the spacecraft to remain 

upright in the water. Chronic problems with wave-induced fatigue of the fabric bag led STG and McDonnell engineers to concentrate on the harness linkages 

inside. After the Big Joe ablation flight test in September 1959, STG had 

decided to use on the Redstone flights, simply because they were on hand, the 

expensive beryllium heatshields that had first been ordered for orbital reentry. 

Since the anticipated reentry temperature would reach only 1000 degrees F, 

the beryllium shields were not necessary as heat sinks, but they served as readymade 

impact bumpers. Temperatures on the conical portion of the spacecraft might 

approach 250 to 300 degrees F, but, compared with about 1000 to 2000 degrees 

for an orbital mission, the ballistic flights should be cool. 27 

Publicity once again focused on the biological subject in the MR-2 experiment. 

The living being chosen to validate the environmental control system before 

committing a man to flight was a trained chimpanzee about 44 months old. 

Intelligent and normally docile, the chimpanzee is a primate of sufficient size 

and sapience to provide a reasonable facsimile of human behavior. Its average 

311 
not only test out the life-support systems but prove that levers could be pulled 

during launch, weightlessness, and reentry.zs 

A colony of six chimpanzees (four female and two male), accompanied by 

20 medical specialists and animal handlers from Holloman Air Force Base, where 

the "astrochimps" were stationed and trained, moved into quarters behind Hangar 

S on January 2, 1961. There the animals became acclimatized to the change 

from the SOOO-feet altitude in New Mexico to their sea level surroundings at the 

Cape. Separated into two groups as a precaution against the spread of any 

contagion among the whole colony, the animals were led through exercises by 

their handlers. Mercury capsule mockups were installed in each of the 

compounds. In these, the animals worked daily at their psychomotor performance 

tasks. By the third week in January, 29 training sessions had made each of the 

six chimps a bored but well-fed expert at the job of lever-pulling. To condition 

the chimps to respond properly, they received banana pellets as rewards and mild 

electrical shocks as punishments. 2D 

Although recovery procedures had worked well until now, recovery operations for MR-2, carrying life into space from the Cape rather than from Wallops 

Island, demanded extra care and attention. So STG provided the Navy with 

the detailed requirements, and the Navy again assigned Rear Admiral F. V. H

Hilles to command the recovery forces. Under Hilles were several task elements

One, located on the beach near the launch pad, consisted of numerous amphibious 

vehicles and several helicopters. Should an abort occur near the pad, these 

vehicles on the scene would pick up the pieces. Offshore the next recovery 

perimeter was covered by a small naval vessel, the Opportune (Auxiliary Recovery 

Ship 41). The largest recovery unit, the one in the anticipated landing area, 

consisted of six destroyers and a landing ship dock (LSD) with three helicopters 

on board. If the capsule were shot beyond the expected impact area, an air 

recovery unit consisting of four P2V aircraft from Jacksonville, Florida, would 

go into action.30 

STG's man in charge of recovery operations was Robert F. Thompson, a 

Navy veteran who once had been first lieutenant of the deck crew aboard a 

destroyer and who by now had coordinated STG's recovery requirements for 

over two years. Through Walter Williams, Thompson asked the Navy to 

provide for the recovery personnel participating in the exercise and to take along 

photographers and public information people as well. Thompson assigned 

Donald C. Cheatham to brief the naval crews from Charleston, South Carolina, 

on postflight procedures for removing the biopack and primate from the 

spacecraf t. 31 

According to the "Master Operational Schedule," a guidebook prepared by 

312 
y, 

py

The team training of the launch crew, even for the old Redstone, required thousands of coordinated actions and easy familiarity by each of the 70 or so members of the blockhouse crew, by each of the 100 men in the Mission Control 

Center, and by each of another 100 people around the launch site to get a flight 

off the ground. While the booster was ready for mate with the capsule as scheduled in mid-January, the capsule was not ready, and the simulated flight test 

was carried out on January 27 for a "mission" that lasted 455 minutes.32 

One of the procedural safeguards developed in the effort to man-rate the 

Redstone was the "split-count," with a built-in hold in the countdown checklist. 

The count began at 640 minutes before launch and stopped for a rest period 

390 minutes short of liftoff time (T). At 640 minutes the complex went on 

critical power and the prescribed systems checks were started, the communication 

network readiness was verified, range equipment was checked, and the launch 

vehicle telemetry was tuned. At T minus 390 minutes all systems were secured 

for the standby period so that the crew could relax. This "split-count" became 

a standard part of manned preflight operations. 

Before the second half of the count began, on the following day, the booster 

was again supplied its electrical power, the escape rocket igniter was installed but 

not connected, the liquid oxygen trailer truck was moved into position, weather 

forecast and range clearances were checked, and the booster guidance and control 

battery safety wires were installed. When the count was resumed at T minus 390, 

there were still at least 330 specific jobs to be perfonned or functions to be 

validated before liftoff. 

The launch plan for the MR-2 mission followed closely all of the foregoing 

preparations, with each event preplanned and budgeted on the schedule. Many 

new systems were being qualified and, with the chimpanzee aboard, the control 

systems had to operate in the automatic mode. The operations directive for 

MR-2 specified that in case of an unduly long hold, the test would be canceled 

at high noon to avoid the risks of a recovery in darkness. 33 

Telemetry was to be all-important for the MR-2 mission. For that purpose 

two transmitters were installed in the capsule, providing eight channels of information to ground stations. These included three aeromedical channels to transmit 

pulse, respiration rate, and breath-depth information. The other channels carried 

information on structural heating, cabin temperatures, pressures, noise, and 

vibrations from 90 different points throughout the spacecraft. 34 

All six chimps in the colony were accorded equal treatment until the day 

before the flight, when James P. Henry of STG and John D. Mosely, the veterinarian from HoIioman, had to choose the test subject and his substitute. First 

the animals were given a physical examination, and then they were each checked 

313 
and checked out in their pressurized couchcabins. Seven and onehalf hours 

before the flight a second physical examination was given, followed by more sensor 

and psychomotor tests. About four hours before launch, the two chimps were 

suited up, placed in their couches, and brought aboard the transfer van, where 

their environmental control equipment was attached. The trailer truck arrived 

at the gantry alongside MR-2, and there, an hour and a half before the scheduled 

launch time, the chimpanzee named "Ham," in honor of Holloman Aerospace 

Medical Center, still active and spirited although encased in his biopack, boarded 

the elevator to meet his destiny. 35 

At sunrise on January 31, 1961, feverish preparations were underway in the 

community around Launch Complex 56. Walter Wi1liams was directing operations for the third time from the newly completed Mercury Control Center

Supporting him were some 500 men from NASA, the military services, and 

industrial contractors. Key supervisors included the recovery force commander, 

range commander, launch director, capsule test coordinator, flight director, 

Atlantic Missile Range coordinator, network status monitor, range safety observer

and director of medical operations. 36 About 5 o'clock systems checks were 

progressing well, and Tecwyn Roberts, flight dynamics officer, reported that the 

command checks were all working "A. OK." 37 Communications checks were 

the same, with the exception of the Goddard link from Mercury Control on the 

data selection loop, and trajectory checks and displays appeared to be in order. 

The broken link with Goddard, discovered well before the flight, was cleared and 

the data selection loop restored. Although the weather was threatening and 

five-foot waves were reported in the recovery area, the second half of the countdown began at 7: 25 a.m. After the count had progressed 20 minutes, the first 

trouble of the morning appeared with a report that a tiny but important electronic 

inverter in the capsule automatic control system was overheating. Nevertheless, 

at 7: 53 Ham was inserted into the spacecraft, and the clear-the-pad signal horn 

was sounded. 

A few minutes after Ham went aboard, the inverter temperature began to 

rise again, causing several more holds. As the wait wore on, Christopher Kraft, 

the flight director, sought advice about Ham's ability to endure a long hold. 

William S. Augerson, medical monitor in the blockhouse, assured Kraft that the 

animal was all right. Ham's suit temperature remained in the comfortable 

mid-60s, while the inverter temperature was at least three times that hot. Eventually the inverter cooled to 150 degrees F, and the count was resumed at 10: 45. 

As soon as the power was turned on again, the inverter temperature shot up again. 

So another cooling-off period was called until 20 minutes before noon, when it 

314 
took too long to clear the pad area; checking the environmental contrDI system 

required 20 minutes longer than planned; and the booster tail-plug cover flaps 

were jammed for a while.3s 

At last, five minutes before high noon on the last day of January 1961, MR-2 

ignitiDn occurred and liftoff of the Redstone followed in less than a second. As 

the launch vehicle rose, a transistorized television camera mounted externally 

near the tDP of the Redstone scanned the surface of the capsule and adapter ring 

to provide engineers with bird's-eye data on the flight behavior Df the spacecraft 

when it blasted away from the launch vehicle. Computers sensed Dne minute 

after launch that the flight path angle was at least one degree high and rising. 

At two minutes, the computers predicted a 17-g load. Then, 137 seconds into 

the flight, the liquid oxygen supply became depleted, and in another half second 

the engine shut down according to the new timer-prDgrammed plan. The closedloop abort system on the Redstone sensed the change in engine chamber pressure 

upon depletion of the lox supply and fired the capsule escape system earlier 

than planned, within another half second. The abort properly signalled the 

expected Mayday message to the recovery forces, and they sped off toward a 

computed impact point farther downrange. 39 

The high flight angle, coupled with the early abort, added 52,000 pounds of 

thrust for one second, and yielded a maximum velocity of 7540 feet per second, 

against a planned 6465 feet. The retrorockets jettisoned prematurely when the 

tower aborted, which meant that the spacecraft on reentry would not 'be artificially 

slowed down and therefDre would gain still more downrange mileage. 4o 

An unexpected and nearly ultimate test of the chimpanzee's air circuit arose 

just before the abort, 2 minutes and 18 seconds into the flight, when cabin pressure 

dropped from 5.5 to 1 pound per square inch. This 'malfunction was traced 

later to the air inlet snorkel valve, a device that was spring-loaded to the closed 

position and held in place by a small detent pin. Apparently vibratiDns had 

loosened this pin and allowed the valve to open, as it was intended to do only 

after the main parachute opened on descent toward a water landing. Ham did 

not suffer, for aithough cabin pressure was lost, his couch pressure remained 

nominal, and suit temperature stayed well within the 60- to 80-degree optimum 

range. But the open valve caused problems after the capsule splashed. 41 

Because of overacceleratiDn of the launch vehicle plus the added energy of 

the escape rocket, a speed of 5857 miles per hour was attained instead of the 

4400 miles per hour planned, resulting in an apogee of 157 miles rather than the 

charted 115. At its zenith Ham's spacecraft was already 48 miles farther downrange than programmed, and Ham endured the weightless state for 1.7 minutes 

longer (6.6 minutes total) than the 4.9 minutes scheduled. He landed 422 miles 

315 
liam Augerson, reported that at liftoff he was stable and working his levers perfectly to avoid the punishment that came from inattention. At waist level in 

the chimpanzee's couch was a dashboard with two lights and two levers that 

required two pounds of effort to depress. Ham knew well how to stay comfortable 

by avoiding a series of electrical shocks. Each operation of his right-hand lever, 

cued by a white warning light, postponed the next scheduled shock for 15 seconds. 

At the same time, the animal had to push the left-hand lever within five seconds 

after a blue light flashed, about every two minutes, in order to avoid another series 

of shocks to the soles of his feet. 

Ham performed these tasks well, pushing the continuous avoidance (right) 

lever about 50 times and receiving only two shocks for bad timing. On the discrete 

avoidance (left) lever, his score was perfect. Reaction time on the blue-light 

lever averaged .82 second, compared with a preflight performance of .8 second. 

Ham had gone from a heavy acceleration g load on exit through six minutes of 

weightlessness and to another heavy g load on reentry hardly missing a trick. 

Onboard cameras filming Ham's reaction to weightlessness also recorded a surprising amount of dust and debris floating around inside the capsule during its 

zenith. The cleanliness problem still was not licked. 43 

When Ham's capsule touched down, about 12: 12 p.m., no human being was 

in sight. Some 12 minutes later, the first electronic recovery signal from the 

capsule was received, and quick triangulations showed that the capsule was 

about 60 miles from the nearest recovery ship, the destroyer Ellison. Some 27 

minutes after landing, Technician G. T. Beldervack, aboard a P2V search plane, 

sighted the capsule floating upright alone in the Atlantic. Reckoning that the 

Ellison would require at least two hours to reach that point, STG officials decided 

to request the Navy to dispatch its helicopters from the next closest ship, the LSD 

Donner. When the helicopters arrived on the scene, they found the spacecraft on 

its side, taking on water, and submerging. W ave action after impact had 

apparently punished the capsule and its occupant severely. The beryllium 

heatshield upon impact had skipped on the water and bounced against the capsule 

bottom, punching two holes in the titanium pressure bulkhead. The plastic fabric 

in the landing bag had worn badly, and the heatshield was torn free from the 

spacecraft before recovery. After the craft capsized, the open cabin pressure 

relief valve let still more sea water enter the capsule. When the helicopter pilot, 

First Lieutenant John R. Hellriegel, and his copilot George F. Cox) finally latched 

onto and picked up Ham's spacecraft at 2: 52 p.m., they estimated there was 

about 800 pounds of sea water aboard. 44 After a dangling flight back to the 

Donner, the spacecraft was lowered to the deck and nine minutes later Ham 

was out. He appeared to be in good condition and readily accepted an apple and 

316 
MR-2 
 

Jan. 21, 1961 
 

Mercury-Redstone 2, launched January 21, 1961, had the chimpanzee Ham as a 

passenger. At left, Ham contemplates the psychomotor test levers in his special 

abiopack" couch prior to the flight. At right, James Chamberlin (left) and Jerome 

Hammack look at the spacecraft upon its return to the Cape the following day. The 

landing bag (bottom) .had been badly damaged and the heatshield torn free when 

the spacecraft was recovered by the helicopters of the U.S.S. Donner. Impact was 

probably responsible for the punctured pressure bulkhead, but the landing bag was 

more likely mangled by the fatigue of wave action as the capsule bobbed before pickup. 

This led to a great deal of last-minute redevelopment before the first manned mission. 
with some hazardous malfunction it might reasonably hope to complete a manned 

ballistic mission successfully. Ham's survival, despite a host of harrowing mis~ 

chances over which he had no control, raised the confidence of the astronauts 

and the capsule engineers alike. Except for an intensive effort to redesign the 

harness and impact attenuation system inside the landing bag, an exhausting final 

"quick-fix" led by Rodney G. Rose and Peter J. Armitage of STG, the Mercury 

capsule and all its systems seemed ready to carry man into space. Since overacceleration had occurred in both the MR-1A and MR-2 missions, however, 

the booster engineers responsible for "Old Reliable," Wernher von Braun and 

Joachim Kuettner, Kurt Debus and Emil Bertram, neither shared STG's optimism 

nor yet were satisfied that their launch vehicle was man-rated. 46 

MA-2: TRUSSED ATLAS QUALIFIES THE CAPSULE 

So long and anguished had been the time since July 29, 1960, when the first 

Mercury-Atlas combination had exploded out of sight overhead, that members 

of the Mercury-Atlas launch team from STG were most eager to try to fly MA-2. 

Laboratory and wind tunnel tests of the "belly band," or "horse collar," in late 

January were practically prejudged as offering no ill omens. On Inauguration 

Day, January 20, 1961, Robert R. Gilruth, Charles J. Donlan, Williams, Maxime 

A. Faget, Mathews, William M. Bland, Jr., and Purser had attended an important 

meeting of the STG senior staff to decide what to do about MA-2. The preliminary recommendations of the Rhode-Worthman Committee were reconsidered; after more technical talks STG decided to accept the risk and 

proceed with the trussed Atlas for MA-2 if top NASA management could be 

persuaded. While a speedup of the flight schedule leading to the orbital mission 

and of plans for a program to follow after Mercury's manned 18-orbit mission 

were being discussed at length, the STG senior staff advised NASA Headquarters 

that MA-2 could wait no longer. 4 7 

A few days later the basic mission directive document appeared in its third 

revised edition; in turn it was superseded by a fourth edition and by a technical 

information summary. At the end of January, Robert Seamans and Abe Silver~ 

stein of Headquarters accepted Gilruth's STG reconunendation to fly MA-2. 

Before the middle of February preparations were complete. NASA had become 

convinced, but the Air Force was not sure MA-2 should fly yet. This was a 

hazardous and complex decision, shared by a number of people in Washington, 

at Langley, St. Louis, Los Angeles, and San Diego. 48 On February 17, Seamans 

called Rhode at Convair, asking his technical judgment as to MA-2's chances 

for success with its "belly-band fix." Rhode replied that MA-2 was structurally 

318 
MA-2 

Feb. 21, 1961 

Mercury-Atlas 2 (right) featured the 

((horse collar" or ((belly band/J an 8­

inch-wide steel corset to strengthen the 

interface area between this last of the 

thin-skinned Atlases and the adapter 

ring on the spacecraft. BelowJM cDonnell and NASA officials chat at the 

launch site: left to rightJ John YardleYJ 

Walter BurkeJand James S. McDonnellJ 

Jr. J all of McDonnell Aircraft Corporation J· Wernher von Braun and Kurt 

Debus of NASAJs Marshall Center. 
"thin-skinned" Atlases to be used in the Mercury program. It differs from the 

booster used in the MA-1 test in that the upper part of the Atlas has been 

strengthened by the addition of an 8-inch-wide stainless steel band. This band 

will markedly decrease the stresses of the weld located just below the adapter 

ring on top of the Atlas; the high stress region is shifted by about 8 inches, 

to a point where the allowable stresses are considerably higher. In addition to 

this strengthening of the top section of the Atlas, the bracing on the oxygen 

vent valve, which fits into the top of the Atlas tank, has been changed. The 

adapter between the Atlas and the capsule has also been stiffened. 

* * * 

The Atlas will be cut off prematurely at a velocity of about 18,000 feet per 

second. The resulting trajectory will yielcL the most severe reentry conditions 

that could occur during an abort in an orbital launching. 50 

Webb and Seamans, pressed by Air Force worries over the technical, political, and 

public effects if MA-2 should fail, decided to trust the judgment of Rhode and 

Gilruth and to back NASA's commitment to accept all the blame if the worst 

should happen. Timely decisions by NASA had been required to permit deployment of the recovery forces to maintain the scheduled launch date. 

There was so much concern over the Atlas-Mercury compatibility problem 

that many people almost forgot the first of several first-order objectives for the 

capsule and its booster. That was to test the integrity of the structure, ablation 

shield, and afterbody shingles of the capsule for reentry from the most critical 

abort situation. A second first-order objective required the Atlas abort sensing and implementation system (ASIS) to be operated "closed-loop" on the 

Mercury-Atlas configuration for the first time. But because MA-2 had already 

been made into a Federal test case, with the President, Congress, and top echelons 

in the Pentagon and NASA Headquarters vitally interested in its outcome, the 

engineers at the working levels were more anxious than ever to make this one 

go. Its specific results were politically less important than its general appearance 

of success. 

The preflight checkouts had ticked off nicely the last several days before capsule No.6 was to undergo its ordeal. And spirits were rising with the Sun on 

the morning of February 21, 1961. The Mercury crew for launch operations 

was much the same as that for MR-2, but just as Atlas was an entirely different 

vehicle from the Redstone, so was its military/industrial launch operations crew 

quite different. From the factory in San Diego had come most of the senior engineers in the Mercury booster program office, including Philip E. Culbertson, 

Charles S. Ames, Howard Neumann, Joseph A. Moore, and Richard W. Keehn, 

as well as the same machinists, welders, and test supervisors who had made the 

"horse collar" work in bench and tunnel tests in California. At the Cape they 

320 
the Atlas. The Air Force Ballistic Missile Division representatives, Lieutenant 

Colonel R. H. Brundin and Major C. L. Gandy, together with Aerospace engineers Bernhard Hohmann and Ernst R. Letsch, were also on hand, watching final 

preparations to make this "bird" fly. Their special concern with the design and 

implementation of the chief reliability component of the Atlas, namely the abort 

system or "ASIS," also brought Charles Wilson and J. W. Schaelchlin of Convair/Astronautics, and D. R. White of Space Technology Laboratories, into the 

blockhouse of Launch Complex 14 on this special morning. John J. Williams 

was the Mercury-Atlas test conductor presiding there. 

Engineers and workers at lower levels in the industrial and military hierarchy 

were beginning to call all these senior men "tigers" and to speak of them collectively as "tiger teams." They were the senior designers and the old-line 

specialists on Atlas subsystems who came out to the launch site to help the field 

engineers actually doing the work of final preparation for a launch.51 Walter 

Williams and Christopher Kraft, in the Mercury Control Center about three 

miles southwest of the beach-side launch pad, watched the lights turn green one 

by one as the gantry backed away and "loxing" commenced about 7: 30 a.m. The 

weather was perfect at the Cape, but 1200 miles downrange in the recovery area 

there were scattered squalls, which delayed the launch for one hour. Outside 

the Control Center that day stood Gilruth, Low, and Major General Ritland of 

the Air Force Ballistic Missile Division, waiting and watching for the liftoff. 

Each had prepared press releases in his pocket making this shot a NASA "overload" test in case of failure. 

MA-2 roared off its pad at 9: 12 a.m., and for the next 2 minutes the tiger 

teams and the managers of Mercury hardly dared breathe. An audible sigh 

of relief spread through the Control Center and blockhouse about one minute 

after liftoff, when it was announced that the "horse-collared" booster had gone 

through max q intact and was accelerating. At that point, said Low, "Gilruth 

became a young man again." Telemetry verified "BECO" and the staging of 

the booster engines, escape tower separation, a good trajectory, capsule separation, capsule retrofire attitude, retrorocket firing, and retropackage jettison.52 

Capsule entry attitude looked excellent at the time tracking and telemetry were 

lost, because of extreme range, about 9: 22 a.m. Three minutes later, lookouts 

aboard the uprange destroyer Greene reported observing the reentry of both 

capsule No. 6 and Atlas booster No. 67-D. 

The capsule passed directly overhead and was lost in the sun at 09: 37. 

Reentry was clearly visible and the capsule could be seen ahead of the booster 

tankage. The capsule was not glowing but a distinct smoke trail was seen 

streaming behind it. The booster tankage was glowing with an intense white 

glow. Several fragments appeared to be traveling along with the tankage 

321 
elliptical dispersion area, also sighted the reentry but lost sight over the horizon 

northeastward before the parachute descent. Within 10 minutes, however, radio 

signals from the sarah beacon pinpointed the floating capsule's location, and 

helicopters were dispatched to pick it up after only 24 minutes in the water. It 

was returned to the LSD less than one hour after launch. 

MA-2 was a magnificent flight, "nominal in nearly every respect." This 

second mission followed a flight path essentially the same as that for MA-l. 

The Atlas-Mercury compatibility problem had been resolved, the sequence system for the booster-capsule combination had worked perfectly, and the tracking 

and real-time data transmission had given immediate and excellent impact prediction from the computers at Goddard to the control centers at the Cape and 

on Bermuda and to the recovery forces at sea. The capsule was in extremely 

good condition, its ablation heatshield being charred no worse than that for Big 

Joe, "its afterbody shingles neither burned nor warped. The Space Task Group 

was pleasantly surprised to find the jettisoned antenna canister and to learn, even 

more surprisingly, that the "mousetrap" aerodynamic destabilizing flap had 

not, as expected, burned away.54 

At a press conference later that day, Gilruth beamed as he announced that 

this was "a very successful test" that "gives us new confidence in the integrity 

of the system, although I would like to caution you all that there are still a number of critical tests that have to be made before we contemplate manned orbital 

flight." Asked if a man could have survived this flight, Gilruth said yes. When 

asked whether this flight also would aid the Mercury-Redstone program, Gilruth 

again gave an affirmative answer, stressing the identical nature of the capsule 

electrical, power, abort, and parachute systems. The Earth-fixed maximum 

velocity of the MA-2 capsule had been approximately 12,000 miles per hour, 

the highest velocity achieved by a Mercury launch since Big]oe had demonstrated 

the boilerplate model of the Mercury concept. As a capstone for this happy 

occasion, Gilruth read a statement announcing that three out of the seven astronauts, namely "Glenn, Grissom and Shepard, in alphabetical order," had been 

selected to begin concentrated preparations for the initial manned Mercury space 

flights. The nominees had known about and been in training for their missions 

since January, but most Mercury engineers did not know who was assigned to 

which flight. 55 

WHEN Is A VEHICLE MAN-RATED? 

As soon as they had recovered from their jubilant celebration after the MA-2 

flight, the men responsible for Project Mercury at NASA Headquarters and in the 

Space Task Group looked east and west to see where they stood in the race to 

322 
by stueted veces to aceve scetc sts, but tey appaety ad o 

direct relationship to any immediate manned space flight. It had been three 

months since the failure of Sputnik Cosmic Ship No.3 on December 2, 1960. 

At the end of February 1961, the Soviets' open record of two failures out of three 

attempts with their prototype manned spacecraft made it appear that they were 

having as many technical difficulties as the Americans were. 

During the last week in February, therefore, the international space race 

seemed to have cooled. At home the reliability of the Redstone was very much 

at issue. It was at this juncture that the von Braun and Debus Mercury-Redstone 

teams presented to NASA Headquarters the results of three intensive reliability 

studies that they had made at Marshall since the overacceleration of MR-2 had 

given Ham such a rough ride. The first of these three separate probability studies 

was based on 69 Redstone and Jupiter flight histories; the second was based on a 

mathematical model using a reconstruction of the flight record of all components 

and subsystems of the Mercury-Redstone; and the third was a still more refined 

reliability study using adjusted values for the human factor and system design 

improvements. Together these studies yielded confidence figures that "led MSFC 

to the opinion that the Mercury-Redstone launch vehicle reliability was in the 

range of 88 percent to 98 percent probability for launch success and crew survival, 

respectively." 56 While President Kennedy, Defense Secretary Robert S. McNamara, and Administrator Webb were learning their executive empires and 

were instituting a thorough review of the Nation's space program, Dryden, 

Seamans, Silverstein, and Gilruth accepted von Braun's insistence to postpone 

the first manned flight and to insert an extra Redstone booster test into the Mercury 

flight schedule.57 

Whereas the Space Task Group had been elated with the perfonnance of 

Ham in spite of difficulties with the capsule and the booster on the MR-2 flight 

the last day in January, the von Braun team at Marshall and the Cape had 

undergone an anguished period of reappraisal during the first two weeks in 

February as they tried once again to explain the "chatter" in the guidance system 

of their Redstone rocket. On February 6, Debus recorded in his daily journal 

his position with respect to the readiness status of the booster to be used for the 

first manned flight: "At least one unmanned shot must be obtained with flawless 

perfonnance of the Mercury-Redstone mission booster flight, or at least no 

major shortcoming must be discovered in the vehicle system." Eberhard F. M. 

Rees, von Braun's Deputy Director for Research and Development, concurred 

and so infonned von Braun. The next day Kuettner drew up an elaborate memo 

for internal use in deciding what should be Marshall's technical recommendation 

on whether to man the next Mercury-Redstone flight. In a covering note, 

323 
John F. Yardley and R. L. Foster of McDonnell, met with the von Braun group 

at Huntsville to decide on "man or no man" for MR-3. By that date Debu

had provided Kuettner with a list of 10 weak links, both in the hardware and i

procedure, that needed correction before MR-3. The Marshall engineers in

corporated their numerical guesswork into a "priority list of weak spots" tha

itemized seven major component problems, five minor component discrepancies

and six procedural difficulties still under study in mid-February. 59 

As Kuettner expected, political and medical considerations in the final decisio

-" to launch the first manned flight elevated the final choice to NASA Headquarter

in Washington. Gilruth, his Redstone project engineer, Hammack, and the res

of STG were satisfied with the "quick fixes" made by Marshall and ground teste

after MR-2. Certainly the seven astronauts felt impatiently ready to go. Bu

von Braun and Debus reminded the Task Group of its own original ground rul

for reliability: no manned flight would be undertaken until all parties responsibl

felt perfectly assured that everything was in readiness. Marshall engineer

doubted that the difficulties encountered on the MR-1A and MR-2 missions woul

have endangered a human passenger. But they were committed to scrupulousnes

in their reliability program, too, and during the last week in February there wer

still seven significant modifications to the Redstone booster that seemed to requir

another unmanned flight test. So during this last week in February, Robert Sea

mans, Abe Silverstein, and Robert Gilruth acquiesced in the demands of Marshal

Space Flight Center to insert one more Redstone flight into the Mercury schedule

The fateful decision was made to postpone MR-3, the first manned flight, unti

April 25 so something then called "MR-2A" could be inserted for a launch o

March 28. On March 3 there seemed little question of the technical wisdom o

this decision, although there was extreme sensitivity about the time set for th

launch and about its possible public consequences. GO 

Marshall undertook to correct everything and asked STG only to provide th

payload for the additional mission. Neither the Task Group nor McDonnell had 

an extra production capsule, so the boilerplate model that had been used 0:1 Littl

Joe-1B in January 1960 was refurbished and sent to Huntsville for the firs

mating with Redstone booster No.5. Instead of the normal designation for th

second try at an unfulfilled mission, MR-2A was renamed "MR-BD" (Mercury

Redstone Booster Development) . Gilruth and company made no plans either t

separate the capsule from the launch vehicle or to recover the remains. MR-BD 

was left primarily to von Braun and Debus, while STG turned most of its attention 

to Little Joe 5A. Only the operations team from STG would participate in 

manning the Control Center. As Marshall and the Cape made ready this fligh

324 
On March 9, 1961, the U.S.S.R. announced it had launched into orbit its 

fourth cosmic ship, or Korabl Sputnik IV) weighing some 4700 kilograms 

( 10,364 pounds) and containing a dog passenger named Chernushka. When the 

dog was recovered, later that day, the Soviet recovery record suddenly became 

two out of four tries, and NASA saw the possible consequence of its MR-BD 

decision. Outside of NASA, the implications were by no means clear. The 

newspaper space race continued unabated. 

In a highly publicized letter, Representative Overton Brooks wrote to President 

Kennedy on March 9,1961, of his concern over military and trade journal reports 

that the space program might veer toward military control. Brooks thought the 

Wiesner report had implied this, and he knew of a special PSAC investigating 

committee of scientists, called the "Hornig panel" after its chairman, Donald F. 

Hornig. This group, charged with an overall review of the manned space program, had just finished spending the first four days of March traveling around 

investigating Project Mercury. Brooks reminded the new President that the 

intent of the Space Act of 1958 was to ensure that control of space research 

remain in civilian hands so that resulting information and technological applications would be open for the benefit of all enterprise, both private and public. 

Too much information would become classified, he said, if the military were 

preeminent in space research, development, and exploration. Brooks asked for 

and received Kennedy'S reassurance that neither he nor Wiesner had considered 

subordinating NASA to the military.62 

With Kennedy's affirmation of NASA's leadership role and its 10-year plan 

for space research, development, and exploration, Administrator Webb concentrated on the scientific criticisms and budgetary deficiencies of the agency. 

Program priorities and the funds necessary for them were taken up first. Webb 

found that most of his staff and field scientists were enthusiastic about getting 

on with advanced manned space exploration beyond Mercury. They wanted 

large booster development and manned spacecraft and space flight development 

leading to exploration of the Moon. Webb also learned that the scientific community outside of NASA was not so disenchanted with manned space flight as 

some had supposed. Lloyd V. Berkner, a geophysicist and chairman of the Space 

Science Board of the National Academy of Sciences, championed the cause of 

NASA programs. Berkner and Hugh Odishaw had just edited an anthology, 

Science in SPace) attempting to garner the support of many disciplines for an 

expanded space program. G3 

On March 13 and 14, Administrator Webb and his chief lieutenants began 

a new series of annual presentations to Congress justifying their financial requests 

for the coming fiscal year 1962. Abe Silverstein, spurred several times by Chair325 
which we pointed out that this Redstone booster traveled 400 miles out when 

it should have gone 293, and went to an altitude of about 150 miles, when it 

should have gone to 110. These were due to some booster malfunctions. We 

have trackel these down and we intend to go ahead and make changes in the 

booster so that we have better control of it. We are not about to operate 

with a booster that is as sloppy in performance as that. 64 

Several days later in a speech before the American Astronautical Society

Administrator Webb publicly stated that NASA's program should be expanded 

to include more scientific space exploration. 65 The effort of NASA managemen

to get White House approval at this time for post-Mercury manned flight and 

basic funding for booster development was to prove of historical importance. 6

On March 22, President Kennedy called Webb, Dryden, and Seamans to mee

with himself, the Vice-President, and key White House staff to review the need fo

supplementing the NASA fiscal 1962 budget. As a result a $125.76 millio

increase was approved for NASA. 67 In the mind of the general public, unawar

of these deliberations on an accelerated space program, NASA was thoroughly 

identified with Project Mercury and attention was pointing toward the firs

manned mission in the near future. 68 

LJ-5A STILL PREMATURE 

"The purpose of the Little Joe 5A," began the technical information summary 

document issued for this flight on March 6, 1961, "is to qualify the Mercury 

capsule, escape system, and other systems which must function during and afte

escape at the combination of dynamic pressure, mach number, and flight path 

angle that represent the most severe conditions that can be anticipated during 

an orbital launch on an Atlas booster." Using McDonnell's capsule No. 14, the 

Little Joe flight test engineers at Wallops Island were behind schedule and eage

to improve on the Little Joe 5 test, which had failed on Election Day in 1960

The premature ignition of the escape rocket motor, followed by the failure o

the capsule to separate from the booster, still remained unexplained. It had 

made the prevention of such a recurrence one of the unstated first-order tes

objectives of LJ-5A. Using another of the beryllium heat-sink heatshields, two 

Castor and four Recruit rocket motors in the booster, a special backup retrorocke

system, and much better instrumentation, William Bland and his crew from STG

together with John C. Palmer, the Wallops Island range director, also hoped to 

get better data on the capsule's structural integrity and on its sequential, landing

and recovery systems. 69 The close simulation that Little Joe 5A should have with 

the Mercury-Atlas configuration was shown by the following table: 70 

326 
Flight path angle (deg) ................... . . ... . .. . 48.6° 56.4° 

Altitude (ft) ................. . ................... . 30,960 34,300 

On Saturday, March 18, 1961, after a four-hour delay caused by checkout 

problems, Little Joe 5A roared and soared up from the beach at Wallops Island 

at 11 minutes before noon. The takeoff looked good, but 20 seconds later and 

14 seconds too early the capsule escape rocket again fired without the capsule. 

Warren North described this flight graphically: 

At 35 seconds the normal abort signal released the capsule clamp ring. A 

single retrorocket, which was installed as an emergency separation device, 

received a premature firing signal at 43 seconds. The dynamic pressure at this 

point was 400 psf-ten times as great as dynamic pressure at apogee where 

emergency capsule separation should have taken place. The capsule tumbled 

immediately upon separating and narrowly missed the booster as it decelerated. 

The retropack and escape tower were inadvertently jettisoned or torn off as 

the capsule tumbled. Apparently the centrifugal force and/or the escape 

tower removed the antenna canister, deploying both the main and reserve 

parachutes. The capsule descended on both parachutes which were only 

slightly damaged during high q deployment. 71 

Postflight analyses showed that both LJ-5 and LJ-5A had failed primarily 

because of structural deformations near the clamp rings that fouled the electromechanical separation systems. 

The impact bag on Little Joe 5A was deployed by its barostat at 10,000 feet. 

The capsule drifted 10 miles on both its parachutes and finally splashed down 

18 miles from the launch site, almost twice as far as planned. On top of that, 

the parachutes fell unreleased over the capsule as it floated in the water, thereby 

preventing helicopters from recovering it; a Navy salvage ship made the pickup 

an hour later. The capsule was in fairly good condition, with only one shingle 

damaged from its ordeal, and parachute loads six times higher than expected 

had caused no significant damage to its structure. 

Spectacular but disappointing had been this test. The primary objective of 

qualifying a Mercury capsule during a maximum-q abort had to be rescheduled 

four weeks later, utilizing the last Little Joe booster. Capsule No. 14 was 

cleaned up, repaired where necessary, and furnished with another set of sensors, 

instrumentation, and telemetry for the reflight coming up, the seventh in the 

Little Joe series and for that reason called prematurely "LJ-7." The postlaunch 

report for LJ-5A summarized the reason for renaming the last Little Joe flight 

LJ-5B: 

Analysis of data show that the escape-rocket motor fired prematurely and 

prior to capsule release, thus precluding accomplishment of most of the firstorder test objectives. The premature ignition was apparently caused by un327 
a safe landing. However, in spite of the descent rate of 60 percent less than 

normal, the heat shield caused some damage upon recontact. Examination 

of the recovered capsule showed that it did not sustain any structural damage 

sufficient to preclude its rapid refurbishment for another flight test. 72 

There was no time for more contingency planning if the United States hoped t

orbit a man before the end of 1961. But for the moment the question in STG wa

not what could be done in nine months but what might be done in nine weeks

MR-BD Is NOT MR-3 

In the midst of the restudies of Mercury-Redstone reliability in early Feb

ruary, vVernher von Braun talked with his chief of public information, Bart J

Slattery, Jr., about the way the public had been "conditioned" to believe tha

the Mercury astronaut would not be allowed to ride the vehicle until 100 percen

assurance of his safe return was obtained from testing. "There isn't such 

thing !" proclaimed von Braun, and he added that future publicity releases should 

emphasize that there "is a risk," perhaps greater than the traffic risks American

take every day but possibly no greater than test pilots take with maiden flight

of new jet aircraft. i3 

During the following month, while trying to reduce that risk to a minimum

the von Braun team represented by Slattery, the Space Task Group represented 

by John A. Powers, and NASA Headquarters represented by Paul P. Haney

agreed to plan the public information for MR-BD to avoid "over-emphasis o

overly optimistic assumptions relating to future manned flights." 7,1 

Redstone engineers meanwhile quickly fixed the MR-BD launch vehicle

making their seven technical changes during the first two weeks in March 1961

The foremost cause of previous Redstone booster overaccelerations was a smal

servo control valve that had failed to regulate properly the flow of hydrogen 

peroxide to the steam generator, which in turn powered, and in the case o

MR-IA and MR-2 overpowered, the fuel pumps. Modifications were mad

to the thrust regulator and velocity integrator, in hopes that MR-BD would be 

physically incapable of exceeding the speed limit again. Another technical diffi

culty had been some harmonic vibrations induced by aerodynamic stress in th

topmost section of the elongated Redstone. Four stiffeners were added to th

ballast section and 210 pounds of insulation was applied to the inner skin of th

upper part of the instrument compartment. Although oscillations at the second 

bending mode frequencies were less on MR-2 than on MR-1A, several othe

electronic changes were made to reduce the dangers from noise and vibration

328 
MR-BD 

Mar. 24, 1961 

The boilerplate spacecraft used 

on the M ercury-Redstone-Booster 

Development flight on March 24 

is lifted by crane to its place atop 

the Redstone. This was an extra 

flight inserted into the schedule 

at the request of von Braun to acquire further experience with the 

man-rated Redstone before a manned flight was actually attempted. 

High winds aloft probably had added some extra stress in the former case, but 

in any event the next trajectory would smooth out the tilting maneuver in the 

region of high dynamic pressure, and 65 telemetry sensors were placed where the 

rocket's bending moments needed to be monitored. Finally, after a great deal 

of diagnostic study, five resettings were made to ensure that the booster engine 

cutoff time would not precede oxidizer depletion and hence cause another premature abort signal, as had happened with MR-2. All these changes proceeded 

smoothly while the boilerplate capsule was ballasted and corrugated to approximate the production model, McDonnell spacecraft No.7, and fitted with an 

inert escape rocket. The capsule did not have a posi-retrorocket package.li; 

On the morning of March 24, 1961, the second half of the split countdown 

for MR-BD was in progress, and so far everything had proceeded without a 

hitch or a "glitch." To test procedures for the launch pad rescue crews, a 

manned M-113 armored personnel carrier was parked only 1000 feet southwest 

of the unmanned Redstone. The firemen in this vehicle were going to endure 

bone-jangling noise and vibration during the launch to see how much emergency 

rescue crews could stand. Closer still, an unmanned asbestos-covered truck was 

329 

uled launch time. During the automatically controlled loading process, wind

of about 20 knots swayed the Redstone and produced sloshing during the "topof

operation. The fuel temperature began to rise toward the boiling point, an

soon an overflow bled out the booster standpipe and boil-off valve. This p

tentially dangerous situation was governed by a computer, which, when i

electronic bias in the topping circuit was lowered, continued the "lox-topping

normally. No holds were called, and the countdown proceeded to launc

without further incident. 

At 12: 30 p.m., MR-BD lifted off straight and smooth from Cape Canaver

un its programmed trajectory. The people in the armored vehicle on the groun

watched it all without discomfort, and a truck driver later moved the simulate

"cherry picker" away undamaged. Although the actual exit velocity was 89 fe

per second higher than planned, there was in general, said Hammack in his repo

to STG, "hardly a plotting difference between the actual trajectory data com

puted ... and the nominal trajectory published in NASA working paper 178." 

The whole configuration impacted in the Atlantic 307 miles downrange (five mile

short of the plan) and sank to the bottom, exploding a sofar bomb en rout

MR-BD was highly successful; as George Low reported to Administrator Webb

it "demonstrated that all major booster problems have been eliminated." 

Telemetry revealed that the Redstone still wriggled a bit with high vibration

in the instrument compartment, but all the "quick-fixes" had worked properly

MR-BD satisfied von Braun's team, Debus' crew, and all of NASA that th

Redstone was now trustworthy enough to be called "man-rated." Enough exper

ence was at hand to tackle the next step in Project Mercury, manned suborbit

flight. 78 

But the very next day, March 25, the Soviets announced the successful launc

and recovery of their fifth Karabl Sputnik, containing a dog named Zvesdochka, o

Little Star. Three out of five was their record now for successful recovery o

"cosmic ships" and dogs from orbit. Three days later, at a Soviet Academy o

Science press conference in Moscow, six of Strelka's pups, as well as four othe

space dogs, were on exhibit as evidence and harbingers of the imminent fligh

of man into space. MR-BD might have been that first flight had it bee

"MR-3," as originally scheduled, but the decision of a month before froze th

Mercury-Redstone schedule for at least two months afterward. And the Mer

cury team, aware of but not dominated by the space race, could only hope tha

the "Sputnik Spacecraft Team" was having comparable final checkout difficultie

At the beginning of April 1961, Mercury-Redstone launch vehicle No.7 wa

erected on its launch pedestal at pad No.5 and made ready for the first matin

of the man-rated capsule No.7. Feverish activity pervaded Hangar S and th

330 
astronauts went through final procedures training and acceleration conditioning 

in centrifuge runs at Johnsville. The Space Task Group now believed that the 

development phase of the project was practically over. Symbolizing this shift, 

the Associate Director responsible for development, Charles Donlan, left STG formally on the first of April to return to Langley Research Center, leaving Walter 

Williams, the operations chief, as Gilruth's sole Associate Director.79 

The Space Task Group nevertheless could not afford to become too preoccupied with the preparations for MR-3 because MA-3 and Little Joe 5B were scheduled first, and within two weeks, as prerequisites for the orbital objective. On 

April 10, foreign correspondents in Moscow reported rampant rumors sweeping 

the city that the U.S.S.R. had placed a man into space. That same day at Langley 

Field, Virginia, another rumor reached the attention of STG to the effect that 

the 10 members and four consultants of the President's Hornig panel were recommending at least 50 more chimpanzee runs before putting man in space. Gilruth 

remarked facetiously that if this were true, the Mercury program ought to move 

to Africa. so 

This hearsay recommendation did not become a part of the "Report of the Ad 

Hoc Mercury Panel" or of the Hornig Committee, as it was more widely known, 

which was submitted on April 12, 1961. Having been delegated by President 

Kennedy and his scientific adviser, Wiesner, the panel visited the McDonnell plant, 

Cape Canaveral, and Langley Field and talked with representatives of supporting 

services and contractors. In its 18-page report it reviewed the accomplishments 

and failures of the Mercury program, assessed the risks and probability of success, 

and commented upon medical aspects of Project Mercury as a whole and medical 

readiness for manned suborbital flight in particular. It co'ncluded with some reasonable medical reservations that a Redstone flight now would be "a high risk 

undertaking but not higher than we are accustomed to taking in other ventures," 

such as in the initial flights of the Wright Brothers, Lindbergh, and the X-series 

of research aircraft. S1 

In its reliability assessments, the Hornig panel graded the Mercury subsystems 

or components according to three classes of reliability percentages: Class 1, 95-100 

percent; Class 2,85-95 percent; Class 3, 70-85 percent. Eleven items were rated 

as Class 1: Capsule structure and reentry properties; separation mechanism and 

posigrade rocket; tower and abort rockets; voice communications; abort sensing 

instrumentation system; manual control system; retrorocket system; parachute 

landing system; ground environment system; recovery operation; and pilot training. Three items were rated in Class 2: Landing bag; environmental control systern; and automatic stabilization and control system. The two items in the Class 

3 category, booster (Redstone or Atlas) and telemetry, were explained as "not 

per se a cause for alarm" for pilot safety but only for mission success.S2 

331 
announcement: 

The world's first space ship Vostok with a man on board, has been 

launched on April 12 in the Soviet Union on a round-the-earth orbit. 

The first space navigator is Soviet citizen pilot Maj. Yuri Alekseyevich 

Gagarin. Bilateral radio communication has been established and is maintained with Gagarin. 

Aside from this assertion, the news out of Moscow and Turkestan on April 

was neither crisp nor very detailed. For a few days a great deal of speculatio

over conflicting reports, fuzzy photographs, and the lack of eyewitnesses encourage

those disappointed Westerners who wished to believe that Gagarin's flight 

V ostok I (meaning East) had not occurred. The danger that history might b

made to order in a closed society was compounded by the rumors in the Londo

Daily Worker and elsewhere since April 7. The propagandistic exploitation 

this magnificent deed was evident from the fact that no confirmed announceme

was made during the 108 minutes of flight-not until Yuri Gagarin landed inta

near the Volga River, some 15 miles south of the city of Saratov. The prese

tense in the Tass dispatch above could easily have been doctored for contr

purposes, drama, or even for more serious reasons. 83 

Be that as it may, NASA officials from Webb and Dryden dDwn to Gilrut

and Powers, at least six months earlier, had planned their comments for th

occasion, just in case. About 4 a.m., telephones began buzzing up and down th

east coast of the United States as reporters demanded responses from NAS

officials to the Tass dispatch. John A. "Shorty" PDwers half-consciously replie

to his first inquisitor, "We're all asleep down here." Some journalists ignore

the fact that Gilruth had long since gone on record as saying he would not b

surprised to be awakened some morning in this manner. Webb went on nation

wide network television . at 7 :45 a.m. to extend congratulations to the Soviet

to express NASA's disappointment, and to reassure the nation that Project Me

cury would not be stampeded or panicked intO' a premature speedup of th

Mercury timetable. The next morning Webb and Dryden were roasted befor

the verbal fire Df the House space committee as they were asked to explain wh

had happened. All the information available to' the United States governmen

said Dryden, and past experience with Soviet technical statements, tended t

confirm the report of Gagarin's flight. Representatives James G. Fulton o

Pennsylvania, J. Edgar ChenDweth of Colorado, Victor L. Anfuso of New York

and David S. King of Utah were especially disappointed that the name Gagari

would "go down in the history books." Webb and Dryden held up well unde

this heat, taking the position that this particular race was lost "before the spac

agency was founded." But Representative Joseph E. Karth, a Democrat from 

332 
Hold retroattitude during re tr olire I ta j Vaeee i. Orient ati on and hold re troattitude 5 min Hold reentry att it ude and rate dampino ~ SW. 

R... d...o< ood " II ,," .1 10" " 12" ." .0< d." •• "'"'" ­ II 

r" 

, ~ , 

;--..;, />!r"' '-, I ... -" 

\.-.. '2-: ~/ ~) 

Project Mercury normal orbital mlsszon profile . 

Minnesota, gave the most popular rationale of why a Russian had won the first lap 

in the manned space race: 

The United States and the Soviet Union have proceeded along two different lines of attack. The Soviets have pretty much rifted their program, if 

I may use the word, as opposed to the United States shotgunning their effort, 

We have been interested in many programs and I think the Soviets have been 

interested primarily in putting a man in space.so! 

The flight of the first cosmonaut seemed remarkably similar in many respects 

to the plans for the first Mercury astronaut's orbital mission, but there were 

momentous differences as well-the single near-polar orbit, the lack of a worldwide tracking network, and the provisions for pilot ejection before impact.s5 

According to the corrected and reduced data obtained from their measurements 

and published in Pravda on April 25, 1961, the twin module spaceship-satellite, 

or Korabl Sputnik VI) was renamed generically as the first in the Vostok series. 

Specifically its call sign was Swallow. The payload compartment, manned by 

27 -year-old, 154-pound Gagarin, weighed altogether 10,417 pounds, and attained 

333 
to Cocoa Beach, Florida. Apparently the Gagarin flight had not been precede

by a parabolic manned suborbital flight into space. The anonymous enginee

behind him, mysteriously called "the chief designer" and "the chief engineer

evidently had developed a mixed-gas air supply at sea-level pressures for his li

support system. V ostok I also had a separate and separable instrument sectio

and retrorocket package for telemetry, television, and radio telephone communic

tions during orbit and for braking the spacecraft velocity 5000 miles and 30 min

utes before the desired impact point. Gagarin rode in a capsule almost thre

times the weight of the Mercury spacecraft and inside a spherical pressure vess

7.5 feet in diameter, both of which were automatical1y controlled. Gagarin w

the first person in history to attain an Earth-fixed speed of 17,400 miles per hou

and at this speed around his 25,000-miIe course, as high as 203 miles from sea leve

he was also the first man ever to endure 89 minutes of weightlessness. 86 

What the Soviets announced after the fact was indeed true: 

History's. first flight in outer space, accomplished by the Soviet cosmonaut 

Yuri Gagarin in the space ship Vostok, has made it possible to draw the immensely important scientific conclusion that manned flights in space are practicable. It demonstrated that man can normally bear up against the conditions 

of a space flight, the placing of a ship in orbit, and the return to earth. This 

flight showed that in a state of weightlessness man fully retains his capacity for 

work, his coordination of movements, and his clarity of thought. 87 

And while it was hardly an overstatement to claim, as the Soviets did aft

the celebrations in Red Square were over, that "in the progress of science, th

flight oof a Soviet man in outer space pushed all other developments into th

background," it must certainly have been an oversimplification that prompte

Gagarin to say in retrospect: "I felt very well before the flight. I was ful

confident of its successful outcome. Our machines and equipment are ve

reliable and I and all my comrades, the scientists, engineers and technicians, nev

doubted the success of the undertaking." 88 

Gagarin's flight, while not having the depressive impact of Sputnik I 

October 1957, nonetheless came as a crushing disappointment to many American

The announcement was received in this country with a variety of reaction

admiration for the flight's purely scientific merits; disbelief, since various Russia

accounts carried conflicting statements, at least in transliteration and at most 

their technical secretiveness; and the feeling that the United States had lost fac

once again. The Associated Press conducted a poll in Miami, Detroit, Akro

Charlotte, Denver, Dallas, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, Oklahoma City, an

Washington, D.C., by having its reporters call all the Joe Smiths in the telephon

directories. The Joe Smiths registered a wide range of emotions, but perhap

334 
I 

magnanimous: 

The Russian accomplishment was a great one. It was apparently very 

successful and I am looking forward to seeing more detailed information. 

am, naturally. disappointed that we did not make the first flight to open this 

new era. The important goals of Project Mercury, hoviever, remain the 

same-ours is peaceful exploration of space. These first flights, whether Russian or American, will go a long way in determining the direction of future 

endeavors. There is certainly work for all to solve the tremendous problems 

involved. I hope the Russians have the same objectives and that we can 

proceed \vith mutual dissemination of information so that these goals which 

all mankind shares can be gained rapidly, safely~ and on a progressive scientific 

basis. 8 !! 

"NEWS WILL BE WORSE BEFORE IT Is BETTER": MA-3 AND LJ-5B 

Although Project Mercury was not stampeded by the flight of Vostok i, 

Congress nearly was. As Mercury approached its goal, its ends became merely 

a means to the Moon. While the funding for Project Apollo was being discussed 

in Congress, the Gagarin flight provided a tremendous impetus to the desires of 

Americans, as mirrored in the lower house of their national legislature, to become 

first once again. In the chagrin of the moment, some Congressmen appeared 

willing to appropriate more money than NASA could spend. Robert Seamans, 

third in command of NASA as Associate Administrator and general manager, 

actually had difficulty restraining the House space committee's demands for an 

all-out crash program for a lunar landing. President Kennedy, consistent with 

one of his campaign promises, reacted to the Gagarin announcement by saying, 

"Weare behind . . . the news will be worse before it is better, and it will be some 

time before we catch up." DO 

The President knew not how well he had prophesied the major Mercury 

events of the next two weeks. The time was up for Mercury to be first in space, 

but the qualification flight tests were still far from over. Mercury-Atlas 3, composed of "thick-skinned" Atlas 100-D and capsule No.8, was, on April 10, 1961, 

standing on the pad at the Cape being groomed for a long ballistic flight over 

Bermuda and the Atlantic Ocean. A primary purpose of MA-3 was to test the 

dual abilities of the Cape and Bermuda to handle an abort about the time of 

orbital insertion. Walter Williams had already satisfied himself that this was no 

problem and that the MA-3 mission should be more ambitious. After Gagarin's 

flight the Mercury senior staff on April 14 decided it was technically feasible to 

change the MA-3 mission objectives to a full-scale one-orbit goal. When Warren 

North informed Silverstein of this change on April 17, he also noted that MA-4 

should be a chimp-carrying orbital flight about mid-July.!l1 However, Low, 

335 
attempt only a few days before the fligh

MA-3 was destroyed by the range safe

officer after 40 seconds of flight, the inertia

guidance system having failed to pitch th

vehicle over toward the horizon. Th

spacecraft successfully aborted and was r

trieved a short distance offshore. This wa

the last major flight failure in Mercury

LJ-5B 

Apr. 28, 1961 

Little Joe-5B (right) was launched from 

Wallops Island April 28, 1961. Although 

not nominal in flight trajectory, LJ-5B did 

finally demonstrate the ability of the 

escape and sequence systems to function 

properly at max-q conditions equal to the 

worst a Mercury-Atlas could encounter. 

336 
yg ,q

and "exhale" manlike quantities of gas, heat, and water vapor, MA-3 should test 

not only the capsule systems but also the reliability of this standard Mercury-Atlas. 

The critical tracking system and computer arrangement at Goddard, the Cape, 

and Bermuda must prove its ability to predict the "go/no go" decision before the 

danger of impacting in Africa. It was too late to change most of the documentation for MA-3, including the information summary and mission directive, but 

revised preflight trajectory data were hastily computed and disseminated. Computer programmers James J. Donegan of Goddard and John P. Mayer of STG 

worked their men through the eve of the flight checking the changed flight plan. 92 

MA-3 failed tactically, but strategically this orbital flight attempt probably 

did more than anything else in the Mercury program to implement the "goldplating," or the real man-rating of the Atlas. It carried the last of the first series 

of capsules with the dual ports and without a landing impact bag. The capsule 

was to be inserted into orbit at an altitude of 1 00 miles and a slant range of 515 

miles from Cape Canaveral. If the velocity of Atlas 100-D was not high 

enough, it could be aborted into anyone of several preplanned recovery zones 

between Bermuda and the Canary Islands. 

As it happened, the Atlas attempt to orbit a robot, made at 11: 15 a.m. on 

April 25, 1961, was intentionally destroyed by the range safety officer only 40 

seconds after launch when the autopilot programmer on the Atlas failed to roll 

and pitch the vehicle over toward the horizon. The mission having aborted, 

however, the entire Mercury escape system worked perfectly and the launch site 

recovery team responded exactly as if there had been a pilot's life at stake. The 

spacecraft was towed to a maximum altitude of 24,000 feet by the escape rocket 

and lowered gently by its main parachute a short distance offshore. The capsule 

came through this relatively easy abort with only minor damages and was quickly 

recovered and refurbished for reuse on MA-4. D3 Destroyed after its failure to 

initiate roll and pitch programs, booster 100-D left few artifacts as memorials of 

its existence. Before the official investigation board could complete its report 

two months later, however, a significant piece of the MA-3 autopilot, the programmer, was found buried in the mud near the beach, thereby leading to the 

corroboration of one of the prime hypotheses for this failure. D4 

Meanwhile, back at Wallops Island, the seventh and last booster in the Little 

Joe series was fitted with capsule No. 14 and made ready for a repeat of LJ-5 

and LJ-5A in hopes that the third try would be charmed. This was to be an 

extremely critical test before MR-3. Gilruth, from Low's home in Washington, 

called William Bland at Wallops Island to encourage the launching if weather 

permitted. The preflight documentation was virtually identical to that of the 

previous Little Joe flight, as was the refurbished spacecraft. Still more instru337 
ment of about 990 pounds per square foot was desired to match the worst of th

Atlas abort conditions. 95 

When on April 28, 1961, at 9:03 a.m., LJ-5B rammed upward, technic

observers cringed when they saw immediately that one of the booster's Casto

rocket motors failed to ignite for 5 seconds after liftoff. This resulted in a muc

lower trajectory than planned, giving a maximum altitude of only 14,600 fee

but the dynamic pressure, instead of 990 pounds per square foot, was about twic

that amount, 1920 pounds. The abort was initiated about 33 seconds after launc

as intended, and all events following the abort occurred as they should have

Recovery by helicopter was quick and clean, even though the low-flying capsu

impacted two miles farther downrange after skidding through the atmospher

rather than vaulting through it. Lewis R. Fisher,Leo T. Chauvin, and Norma

F. Smith of the STG Little Joe team were able therefore to wind up their program 

with a boast despite the erroneous trajectory: 

This launching successfully demonstrated the structural integrity of the 

Mercury capsule and escape system and sequential system under significantly 

more severe conditions than those expected to be encountered during a nontumbling type of abort from an Atlas booster during a Mercury orbital 

launch .. . . Changes in circuitry and redesign of clamp-limit-switch installa~ 

tio1l5 in Capsule 14 for the Little Joe 5-B mission successfully eliminated the 

problem of premature ignition of the escape rocket motor. 9G 

One by one the major obstacles to the growth of the manned space fligh

enterprise seemed to have dissolved. The opposition of some in the scientif

community was not expected to become a factor in national policy. The so

called "military-industrial complex" had failed, if indeed it had ever tried, t

reduce NASA. The White House and NASA administrators were determined t

advance national capability in space technology. Political dangers were no

neutralized. Except for the Atlas and the spacecraft's orbital capacities, a

Mercury systems were qualified. Despite the embarrassment to America

nationalism brought by Gagarin's flight, Mercury as a technological accomplish

ment was on the verge of sending a man to visit the edge of the black sea of space

And certainly this year of grace 1961 should also see an American citizen orbit th

globe. 97 

338 
 
Part Three 

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Suborbital Flights into Space 

AT 9: 34 a.m. on May 5, 1961, about 45 million Americans sat tensely before 

.f't. their television screens and watched a slim black-and-white Redstone 

booster, capped with a Mercury spacecraft manned by Astronaut Alan B. 

Shepard, Jr., lift off its pad at Cape Canaveral and go roaring upward through 

blue sky toward black space. 

At 2.3 seconds after launch, Shepard's voice came through clearly to Mercury 

Control; minutes later the millions heard the historic transmission: 

Ahh, Roger; lift-off and the clock is started . . . Yes, sir, reading you loud 

and clear. This is Freedom 7. The fuel is go; 1.2 g; cabin at 14 psi; oxygen 

is go ... Freedom 7 is still go! 

America's first man in space was in flight only 15 minutes and 22 seconds 

and was weightless only a third of that time. Freedom 7 rose to an altitude of 

116.5 miles, attained a maximum speed of 5180 miles per hour, and landed 302 

miles downrange from the Cape. Shepard experienced a peak stress of 6 g 

during booster acceleration and less than 12 g on reentry. Recovery operations 

went perfectly, the spacecraft was undamaged, and Shepard was in excellent and 

exuberant condition. 1 

In the light of later American space accomplishments, the flight of Freedom 7 

was impressive for its benchmark of technical excellence in the new technology 

of manned space flight and its hallmark of open media reporting. When compared, as it inevitably was, with the previous April 12 orbital flight of Yuri 

Gagarin, MR-3 was anticlimatic. 

Ever since December 1958, when T. Keith Glennan, the NASA Administrator, 

had announced Project Mercury, the American public had awaited the first 

manned Mercury flight with fairly general misgivings. Many people whose 

expectations had been stimulated by publicity became impatient at the long delays 

and postponements. Some deplored the whole space program as wasteful and 

of doubtful value. A few still believed space travel was impossible for human 

beings. 

341 
order of the men selected. In early January, back at Langley, the day after he had 

bid outgoing Administrator Glennan goodbye in Washington, Gilruth had decided 

to inform the flight crewmen of their selection status. He drove over to the 

temporary building housing the astronaut offices, called the seven men together, 

and told them of his decision that Shepard would be the first flight astronaut. 2 

And while the West awaited the next development, Gagarin made his 108­

minute near-polar orbit of Earth aboard the five-ton Vostok I (meaning East) 

spacecraft. 

Although some Americans professed disbelief in the Gagarin flight, a majority 

surely felt a twinge of nationalistic pain in admitting the Soviets had won the 

first honor in the two-nation race into space. When Shepard's flight took place, 

barely a month after Gagarin, even the skeptics appeared to derive consolation 

from the fact that the American launch and recovery had been made in the light 

of full publicity, with all world news media participating, whereas the Vostok 

flight had been veiled in official secrecy until after the fact. 

Freedom 7, Shepard's capsule, missed what had been widely considered a 

"realistic" launch schedule by six months. When the capsule had finally been 

delivered to the Cape on December 9, 1960, some assumed the flight could be 

made at once. But 21 weeks of preparation-not all of it anticipated-were 

required by STG's Cape preflight checkout group and a host of McDonnell engineers based at the Florida site. Reaction control system checkout and rework 

were responsible for a launch schedule pO'stponement to March 6, 1961. Replacement of damaged and corroded peroxide lines forced a further delay of 

eight days. Rerunning the simulated mission test and correcting structural and 

equipment defects were other time-consuming problems. 3 

Thus, technically, it was May 2 before the launch of capsule No. 7 might 

have been made. Then why not use capsule No. 8 or 9 or 11? Because capsule 

No.7 had been selected in the summer and groomed since October 1960 as 

McDonnell's best product to date, the only porthole version of the capsule that 

had been or would be man-rated in all respects. By January 1961, after the 

MR-1A flight had used up Mercury-Redstone booster No.3, the one originally 

intended for the first man-launch vehicle, it was clear that Redstone No.7 would 

boost capsule No.7. At the end of March, when booster No. 7 arrived at the 

Cape, Shepard already knew he was Robert R. Gilruth's prime choice to fly it. 

"There was no hope," said Shepard, "that a later model of the capsule incorporating our suggestions could be ready in time for MR-3." So capsule No. 7 on 

booster No.7 should be the first combination of a series of at least seven flights to 

put Americans into space. "What better name or call-sign could I choose than 

Freedom 7?" asked Shepard. 4 

342 
But in the postflight debriefing, Shepard complimented the so-called 

over train

ing"; he remarked that the similarity of training conditions to actual fligh

conditions was a key factor in making the mission seem almost routine. In addi

tion, new and better procedures were developed during repeated rehearsals of th

mission, which might not have come to light had the training not been expanded 

few weeks. 

FINAL PREPARATION FOR MR-3 

The Space Task Group had decided to train Shepard, Glenn, and Grissom 

especially for the MR-3 mission because the competitive field had to be narrowed 

for this particular mission to allow the remaining astronauts to prepare fo

ground support jobs and the Mercury-Atlas orbital missions. Shepard's activity 

chart for February 1961 shows that he spent 18 days at Cape Canaveral becoming 

oriented to spacecraft No. 7 and its peculiarities. Long before the final phase

of pilot preparations came about, Shepard and Walter C. Williams had insisted 

that the designated astronaut must become an integral part of the prefligh

checkout activities. So, based on this procedure, Shepard and Glenn acquired th

special feel of No. 7's attitude control system in hangar checkouts. When th

capsule was placed in the altitude test chamber, Shepard went along for th

"ride" and exercised the environmental control system. 

The most valuable operational training the astronaut received before hi

mission came from sessions in two McDonnell-built, Link-type tr<:l.iners, one a

Langley and the other at the Cape. These devices were first called "procedure

trainers" and later "Mercury simulators." Here the space pilot, supine in a mock

up capsule, rehearsed the flight plan for a specific mission. The trainer instrument

were capable of being tied in with computers at the Mercury Control Center

Overall operations team practice welded ground controllers and astronaut into a 

unit. Although not devoted exclusively to the MR-3 mission, the simulator

were in use 55 to 60 hours a week during the three months preceding th

flight of Freedom 7. During the entire training period, Shepard "flew" 12

simulated Mercury-Redstone flights. 5 

For an eight-week period immediately preceding the flight, the rehearsal

became even more exacting. In preparing for the altitude chamber runs a

space equivalent altitudes, the astronaut was examined in preflight physicals

fitted with medical sensors, including a rectal thermometer, and helped into hi

20-pound pressure suit. The pilot and his medical attendants then went through 

the mission as realistically as conditions would allow, conducting pressure and 

medical checks. 

Another carefully rehearsed phase of the program consisted of the transfe

343 
itably busy with ((over training, the rerunning of all 

phases and aspects of the flight to the point that response to them became reflexive. Left, Shepard arrives in the white room at Pad 5 on April 21, 1961, 

ready for the full-scale simulation of the flight . Below, 

he once more ((flies" the mission in the procedures 

trainer at the Cape. B;!low left, he leaves the altitude chamber in Hangar S following an altitude test. 

MR-3 

Preflight 
g,p, p

structure, or gantry, against the vehicle, and the capsule hatch was not close

But the next day, on a third simulated mission, the hatch was closed, the gantr

was pulled away, and the spacecraft was purged with oxygen as if an actu

mISSIOn were in progress. Training like this and in the procedures trainer con

tinued until two days before the scheduled flight. G 

Three purposes were served by this extensive training program. The astro

naut became intimately familiar with the role and voice of each person supportin

the mission. He acquired more physical and mental familiarity with all of th

associated hardware. And he was made even more aware of the day-to-da

status leading to launch date. The operations team benefited by having th

astronaut attend the team's technical briefings. These discussions covered bot

the spacecraft and the launch vehicle and included mission reviews held th

week before launch. 

On the eve of the launch, a briefing was conducted exclusively for the astro

naut, with specialists in each system reporting on final readiness. Walter J

Kapryan presented the capsule and booster status; Robert B. Voas reviewe

astronaut flight tasks; Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., briefed the astronaut on fligh

control and network status; Robert F. Thompson told him of recovery procedures

and Ernest A. Amman gave him the forecast on weather conditions. Nex

morning, L. Gordon Cooper, blockhouse communicator, obtained reports from 

key operations personnel and gave the astronaut his final ready-room briefin

before he ascended the gantry. Plans for the postflight debriefing session

wherein the student astronaut would become the teacher of his preflight instruc

tors, were also laid out in detail by the end of April.' 

The planning of recovery operations was as important as any other phase o

the mission. Rear Admiral F. V. H. Hilles, in command of the experience

flotilla of eight destroyers known as DesFlotFour, worked with another fla

officer, G. P. Koch, aboard the carrier Lake Champlain, on the tactics for thi

mISSIOn. STG's primary strategy was to recover both man and capsule by usin

land-based Marine helicopters for launch-site abort situations within about 8

miles of the Cape and carrier-based helicopters in the primary recovery area

within a hundred-mile radius. Makeup of the recovery force was similar to tha

for MR-2, with tiered groups of men and equipment, beginning at Cape Ca

naveral, ready to cover all contingencies-abort, normal flight, or overflight

The main recovery force of ships was deployed in an elongated pattern 500 mile

down along the range. It consisted of the carrier, eight destroyers, and one 

Atlantic Missile Range radar tracking ship. The helicopters again were manned 

by Marine Air Group 26, a veteran recovery unit.s 

Some innovations were added to the recovery plans as a result of experienc

345 
with a pararescue team as an emergency rescue measure. Two such teams were 

provided, adding the support of the Air Rescue Service and Navy frogmen to 

Project Mercury. 

A second change involved communications. When the spacecraft was near 

impact it passed below the radio horizon; Williams reminded the Air Force 

Missile Test Center commander that continuous voice communications with the 

astronaut in the final moments of flight and after impact required a communications relay plane. The Air Force assigned a communications aircraft, codenamed Cardfile 23, to the mission.!} 

The helicopter recovery technique was perfected late during the astronaut 

preparation period. According to the original helicopter recovery procedures, 

the chopper would lift the spacecraft with the pilot inside and ferry both to the 

ship. John Glenn protested that the danger in this procedure to both astronaut 

and helicopter pilots was too great in case trouble developed during the operation. 

He strongly recommended further review. After much study and practice of 

procedures, STG decided at a conference on April 15, 1961, to use helicopters 

as the primary mode of recovery. The helicopter would arrive, hover over the 

spacecraft, and talk with the pilot by UHF. The helicopter copilot would snip 

off the capsule's high-frequency antenna, snare the capsule recovery loop, and 

raise the vehicle slightly out of the water. By this time the astronaut would be 

completely out of harness and the hatch would be clear of the water. Then the 

astronaut would open the side hatch, crawl through, and catch a second sling 

lowered from the helicopter. The helicopter would hoist both astronaut and 

spacecraft and carry them to the main recovery ship.lO 

Since a man was to be aboard this flight, another vital part of the planning 

activities involved weather reporting and surveillance. Beginning in June 1960, 

Francis W. Reichelderfer, chief of the United States Weather Bureau, had 

promised to Administrator Glennan and provided for the Space Task Group 

full meteorological support for Project Mercury. By mid-April 1961, a special 

weather support group, consisting of three units under Kenneth M. Nagler, was 

utilizing every resource of the Bureau (including the satellite Tiros II) to forecast 

the weather accurately for STG.ll 

Before MR-3, the seven-man Miami forecast unit, headed by Jesse R. Gulick, 

analyzed reconnaissance data on weather conditions for 200 miles beyond the 

planned launch and recovery areas. Weather Bureau aircraft from Miami 

overflew the area at altitudes of 5000 to 20,000 feet, then, three hours before 

launch, dipped down below 1500 feet. The flight plan followed a box pattern, 

with the amount of surveillance dictated by weather conditions at a particular 

point. The recovery ships were integrated into a weather-reporting mission, 

346 
tures, relative humidity, cloud cover, and winds. 

:! 

As the flight date neared, STG personnel briefed the ship crews of the 

recovery force. Martin A. Byrnes, Robert Thompson, and Charles 1. Tynan, Jr.

of STG found the naval crews not wholly trained in the specifics of this particular 

mISSIOn. So they immediately initiated a brief education program, giving talks

providing reading material, and showing motion pictures of the MR-2 chim

panzee flight. Tynan also carefully briefed each man charged with capsule

handling duties on his particular role. To cradle the recovered capsule the 

Navy had constructed 20-by-25-foot dollies and topped them with old mattresses

Then aeromedical teams arrived, prepared sick bay areas, and briefed the ships

medical personnel. After one medical group found that two members of one 

of the destroyers had recently contracted hepatitis, the crew members of that 

ship were barred from donating blood, even in an emergency. Byrnes, who felt 

that the recovery-force briefings should become standard procedure for succeed

ing flights, said that the Navy was pleased with the pep talks.13 

LAST-MINUTE QUALMS 

While the entire NASA program was under review by the new Administration 

in Washington early in 1961, Project l\1ercury was nearing its manned space flight 

phase. During the first four months of the year the major discussion would 

center around a proposed acceleration of the entire United States' space program 

to include a lunar-landing mission. Conversely, the Mercury program in the same 

time frame came under direct scrutiny of the President's Science Advisory Committee (PSAC), which was charged with reviewing the scientific contents of all 

major Federal projects. Some members of PSAC were not fully satisfied that 

Project Mercury was all it should be, particularly with regard to the reliability of 

the Redstone and Atlas boosters and to the novel life-science hazards. 

The Mercury-Atlas and Mercury-Redstone failures of the year before, as was 

made evident in the January 1961 report of the President-elect's Space Task Force 

under the leadership of Jerome 'B. Wiesner, had not helped build the confidence 

of physical and life scientists that Mercury was truly a man-rated program. An 

ad hoc Mercury panel was created by PSAC to delve into the scientific details and 

reliability of the overall Mercury system and advise the President if it appeared 

likely that the United States would be beset with another well-publicized but 

inexplicable failure. Basically, the PSAC panel sought to investigate the level of 

risk involved in Mercury before a man was to be committed to an actual space 

flight. This inquiry was penetrating. Panel members spent five days in March 

visiting McDonnell, Space Task Group, and Cape Canaveral, receiving a series 

of detailed briefings and interviews. Several medical uncertainties appeared 

347 
the first manned flight there might have been a greater number of animal flights 

progressing toward absolute physiological and psychological limits. Past Mercury 

flight tests appeared more systematic for hardware engineering than for medical 

problems. As a case in point, it was noted by the panel members that the MR-2 

mission had demonstrated excessive vibration and overacceleration in the launch 

phase, so that an additional booster test flight (MR-BD) had been inserted to 

precede the first manned suborbital flight. Pilots in the X-1S rocket research 

airplane, as well as Ham, the "space chimp" aboard MR-2, had recorded surprisingly high pulse rates concurrently with low blood pressures, yet there were 

no plans to include a blood-pressure measuring device in the upcoming manned 

flight (efforts to develop such a device were as yet unsuccessful). In addition, 

the panel members learned that Ham had taken his turn on the centrifuge, but that 

the acceleration profiles had no precise correlation with stresses and forces of those 

predicted for the MR-2 mission. 

Despite these gnawing medical doubts, in general the PSAC panel members 

felt that the Mercury hardware and its reliability had been developed with great 

care. They were especially impressed with the redundant systems of the spacecraft, as well as the procedures and devices that had been integrated to assure 

pilot safety during launch. In fact, several panel members stated at STG that 

it seemed everything necessary to assure pilot survival had been considered. 

In their final analysis, the PSAC panel assessed all risks and agreed that 

Mercury was ready to fly a man. The scientific purpose indeed was to determine 

man's suitability for the stresses and weightlessness associated with space flight. H 

The orbital flight of Yuri Gagarin on April 12 seems to have removed any 

lingering medical qualms about manned flight. Mercury Director Gilruth had 

full confidence in the Space Task Group physicians and their endorsement by the 

space medicine community long before Vostok I. W. Randolph Lovelace II, 

Brigadier General Don D. Flickinger, and others familiar with the medical stresses 

of flight likewise had been convinced that pilot safety was fully assured. Yet 

if the medical profession as a whole had voiced scientific opposition to manned 

flight in Mercury, or if Vostok I had not flown when it did, it would have been 

impossible to proceed with a man in MR-3 immediately.1:> 

Centrifuge tests of the astronaut's couch continued to raise NASA confidence 

in the adequacy of Mercury systems to maintain an astronaut's safety under acceleration into and deceleration from the space environment. But the abrupt negative acceleration of the final impact on Earth remained a nagging worry, particularly in case of a land landing. The aluminum honeycomb shock-attenuation 

material under the couch had been bought as insurance, but was it enough? 

Continued experiments early in 1961 at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio, 

348 
y y, 

that a spacecraft could land without an impact bag, but the idea of having 

"slightly stunned" astronaut in what should be made a routine operation wa

unacceptable. So STG had reassigned the development of a suitable impa

bag system to Jack A. Kinzler's technical services team and to Rodney G. Ros

and Peter J. Armitage. These men worked around the clock in March and Apr

trying to perfect a seaworthy shock-absorber. All other pilot-safety systems wer

ready for a safe and successful flight. 1G 

Barely a month had passed after the three chosen astronauts began trainin

for MR-3 when the press began speculating as to which one would make th

flight. On March 25, John Glenn became the favorite contender, although on

report added that there was plenty of betting on Grissom, since the Air Force ha

been designated by the Defense Department to manage and conduct militar

space mISSIOns. This intimation of service competition spread quickly. Som

newspapers even implied that the Army and Navy strongly suspected the Air Forc

had leaked Glenn's name to embarrass NASA and reduce his chances. 17 

The astronauts themselves watched all these conjectures with amusement

keeping tight the secret knowledge of their order of succession. According t

Voas, their psychologist and training officer, there was only one thing that terrifie

all seven: the fear that something might prevent one of them from flying his ow

mission when the time came. 18 

Speculation on the designated pilot abated shortly after Robert C. Seaman

Jr., third in command at NASA Headquarters, appeared before the House Scienc

and Astronautics Committee and testified that each astronaut would have his fligh

training opportunity aboard a Mercury-Redstone at six-week intervals. Gilrut

had, of course, long since decided on an order of preference among the three astro

nauts designated, and had informed them of it, but everyone kept the secret we

because of the everpresent likelihood of unforeseen changes. 19 

Toward the end of April there was so much publicity that some Senators

among them Republican John J. Williams of Delaware and Democrat J. W

Fulbright of Arkansas, . thought the flight should be postponed and then con

ducted in secret lest it become a well-publicized failure. This was not the genera

view in Congress, however. Most members, while aware of the danger of too muc

publicity, felt tradition required the press to have free access to events of suc

magnitude as the first American manned space flight. Besides, the Russians ha

received international criticism for conducting an ultra-secret space program

While many highly placed officials, several close to President Kennedy, wer

apprehensive about the possibility of an overly publicized fiasco, others presse

to get the manned space flight program moving. On March 22, at a Whit

House meeting, Hugh L. Dryden had explained to the President that no unwar

349 
Executive Secretary of the National Aeronautics and Space Council, observed to 

the President, "Why postpone a success?" 

President Kennedy wanted to be assured of a much better than average chance 

for success and asked for these assurances almost until launch. On the day 

preceding the flight, the President's personal secretary, Evelyn Lincoln, called 

NASA Headquarters Public Infonnation Officer Paul P. Haney at the MR-3 

News Center in Cocoa Beach, Florida. She said the President wanted to review 

television coverage plans. Live coverage was to begin two minutes before launch. 

After some delay, Mrs. Lincoln said the President had asked Press Secretary Pierre 

Salinger to handle the call. Salinger said the President was concerned over the 

reliability of the escape system in the event of a Redstone malfunction. Haney 

reviewed the history of the launch escape system for the President's office and 

Salinger said the information should satisfy the President's inquiry.20 

Cancellation of the flight on Tuesday, May 2, because of inclement weather, 

forced a recycle of the systems countdown for a 48-hour period. On Thursday 

unfavorable weather again prevented the launch. Countdown did begin, however, for a Friday launch. 21 

As it happened, the press and public learned the MR-3 astronaut's identity 

only after the countdown had been canceled, 2 hours and 20 minutes before launch, 

on May 2. Shepard had been waiting in Hangar S in his pressure suit ready to 

go for more than 3 hours. Gilruth reaffirmed his prime pilot decision a day before 

the scheduled launch, basing Shepard's selection on advice from his medical, training, and technical assistants. 22 But he had withheld his announcement because 

of the chance for a last-minute change. 

The American public participated vicariously in the experiment. For the first 

time, the maiden flight of a revolutionary manned vehicle, climaxing years of 

research and development, was open wide to public view. Only a handful of 

spectators saw the Wright Brothers accomplish man's first powered flight in 1903. 

In many parts of the country and the world, people accepted that event only years 

afterward. But for the American taxpayers' first manned space flight, NASA 

arranged procedures well in advance to enable all domestic news media and foreign 

news services to view and report the events surrounding MR-3. By April 24, 

some 350 correspondents were registered. As a result of their activities, the dateline "Cape Canaveral" soon became familiar to all the world. Radio and television 

coverage was equally energetic; telecasts originating at the Cape, particularly 

on May 5, were enthralling.23 

Starting at 8: 30 p.m. on May 4, the countdown proceeded without a hitch. 

Around midnight a built-in hold was called for the purpose of installing the 

pyrotechnics, servicing the hydrogen peroxide system, and allowing the opera350 
before transporting the astronaut to the pad area. 

Shepard, awakened at 1: 10 a.m., began an unhurried but precise routin

involving a shower and a shave. With his physician, William K. Douglas, hi

understudy, John Glenn, and a few other members of the operational team, h

sat down to a breakfast consisting of orange juice, a filet mignon wrapped i

bacon, and some scrambled eggs. Shepard had begun a low-residue diet thre

days before the anticipated launch. At 2: 40 a.m. he received a physical examina

tion. This was followed by the placement of biosensors at points indicated b

tattoo marks on his body. He was now ready for Joe W. Schmitt, an STG su

technician, to assist him in donning the pressure suit. 21 

Shepard entered the transfer van at 3: 55 a.m. In the van, on the way t

the pad, he lay on a couch while technicians purged his suit with oxygen. Whe

the van arrived at the pad, Schmitt began to attach the astronaut's gloves whil

Gordon Cooper briefed him on the launch status. 

At 5: 15 a.m. Shepard, carrying his portable air conditioner, ascended th

gantry, and five minutes later he entered the spacecraft. If everything wen

well, he had two hours and five minutes to wait before liftoff. While Shepar

was preparing to lower himself into the couch, his right foot slipped off th

right elbow support. But he eased himself into position without furthe

difficulty. 

Schmitt fastened the harness and helped with the hose connections. The

he solemnly shook the spaceman's gloved hand. "Happy landings, Com

mander !" chorused the gantry crew. 

For Alan Shepard, this was the most dramatic moment of his 37 years

a moment he would recall with the most acute poignancy for the rest of hi

life. Afterward he told how his heart quickened as the hatch was closed. 

The sensation was brief; his heartbeat soon returned to normal. At 6: 2

a.m. he began a denitrogenation procedure by breathing pure oxygen. Thi

was to prevent aeroembolism, or decompression sickness, the airman's equiva

lent of the deep-sea diver's bends. 2S 

Now the countdown resumed. 

At 15 minutes before launch the sky became slightly overcast, so photo

graphic conditions were below par. Weathermen said the conditions woul

clear in 35 to 40 minutes, and a hold was called. Shepard became resigne

to this hold and relaxed by peering through the periscope. He was not uncom

fortable, because he was able to shift his body in the couch. Telemetere

biomeclical data confirmed that his condition was good. While waiting fo

the clouds to clear away, a hold was called to replace a 115-volt, 400-cycl

inverter in the electrical system of the launch vehicle. This hold lasted fo

52 minutes, after which the count was recycled to 35 minutes before launch

351 
in the capsule four hours and 14 minutes when the final seconds ticked off to 

liftoff.2G 

Two minutes before the launch, voice communications between the astronaut and the operations team switched from Cooper in the blockhouse to Donald K. Slayton in the Mercury Control Center. From that point until launch, 

the "talk" was continuous as each panel monitor advised Slayton of his system's 

status for relay to Shepard. To the astronaut the monitors seemed slow in 

reporting the go condition, and this he attributed to his own eagerness to be 

off. Schirra was now circling above in his F-I06 chase plane, waiting to fol· 

low the Redstone and Shepard as high as he could. Because of his excitement, Shepard said he failed to hear much of the closing countdown, with the 

exception of the firing command. During this period his pulse rate rose from 

80 per minute to 126 at the liftoff signal. This rise caused no medical concern, 

for it was about the same as that of an automobile driver moving out from a 

service road to a freeway crowded with heavy traffic. Shepard was not alone 

in his excitement; he was joined by the operations team, the press corps at the 

Cape, and millions of people viewing the liftoff on television.27 

SHEPARD'S RIDE 

Shepard saw the umbilical cable supplying prelaunch electrical power to 

the Mercury-Redstone and its supporting boom fall away. He raised his hand 

to start the elapsed-time clock that ticked off the seconds of the flight. The 

onboard camera, clicking at six frames per second, confirmed his alertness as 

the MR-3 combination roared and began to climb. He was surprised by the 

smoothness of the liftoff and the clearness of Slayton's voice in Mercury Control. All his transmissions were acknowledged without requests for repeat. 

The ride continued smoothly for about 45 seconds; then the rocket, capsule, 

and astronaut began vibrating. Conditioned to these circumstances, Shepard 

realized that he was passing through the transonic speed zone, where turbulence 

built up. The buffeting became rugged at the point of maximum aerodynamic 

pressures, about 88 seconds after liftoff; Shepard's head and helmet were bouncing so hard that he could not read his panel dials. Sound levels were noticeably higher at that point but still not uncomfortable. Shortly thereafter both 

the noise and the vibration abated. Now enjoying a much smoother ride, 

Shepard told Slayton that the dial-scanning procedure he was supposed to follow 

was impractical. He had to omit reading the electrical power dials to pay 

more attention to his oxygen and hydrogen peroxide supply indicators. 

The cabin pressure inside Freedom 7 sealed off at 5.5 pounds per square inch, 

352 
, pjy, 

flight, was only one degree off course, which meant a variation of slightly more 

than a mile in peak altitude. After engine cutoff, Shepard heard the towerjettison rocket fire and turned his head to peer out the port, hoping that he might 

see the smoke from the pyrotechnics. There was no smoke, but the green towerjettison light on his panel assured him that the pylon was gone. Shepard strained 

in his couch under an acceleration that hit a peak g load of 6.3. Outside the 

capsule the shingle temperature reached 220 degrees F, but inside the cabin the 

temperature was only 91 degrees. The astronaut was hardly perspiring in his 

pressure suit at 75 degrees. 

After tower separation, which occurred two minutes and 32 seconds after 

launch, Shepard disarmed the retrorocket-jettison switch and advised Slayton 

that his capsule was free from the booster. At three minutes the automatic 

attitude control system about-faced the capsule''' to a heatshield-forward position 

for the remainder of the flight. Momentary oscillations climaxed the turnaround 

maneuver, whereupon the automatic thrusters cut in for five seconds to steady, 

or "damp," the capsule into its proper attitude. Now almost at the top of his 

suborbital trajectory, Shepard went to work on his most important task, determining whether an astronaut could control his spacecraft's attitude. 

He began to switch the control system to manual, one axis at a time. First 

he took over pitch, which he was able to adjust by moving the handcontroller 

in his right grip forward or backward to give the spacecraft the proper up or 

down attitude. His first action was to position the spacecraft in the retrofire 

attitude, tilted 34 degrees above a local horizontal mark. The pitch indicator on 

Freedom 7 was scribed at 45 degrees, as earlier studies had proposed, but more 

recent investigations had indicated that 34 degrees was a better angle. 

While Shepard was in control of pitch, the automaLc system was controlling 

yaw, or left and right motion, and roll, or revolving motions. When Shepard 

assumed control of all three axes, he was pleased to find that the feel was about 

the same as in the procedures trainer, the Mercury simulator. Although he could 

control his ship well, he was unable to hear the spurting control jets above the 

noise of his radio. He encountered one small problem while using his handcontroller: when he moved his hand to yaw, the wrist seal bearing of his suit 

bumped into his personal parachute. To make the proper displacement, he had 

to push hard. 23 

When he tried to carry out another of his flight objectives, observing the scene 

below him, Shepard immediately noticed that the periscope had the medium gray 

filter in place. While waiting on the pad, he had used this filter to eliminate 

the glare of the intermittently bright sunlight and had planned to remove the 

filter when he retracted the periscope, just before launch. But being otherwise 

353 
Sensors are attached Launch of 

to Shepard by Freedom 7 

William K. Douglas 

Flight of 

freedom 7 

May 5, 1961 

Astronaut recovery 

Astronaut and 

spacecraft 

safely aboard 

the carrier 
pued s 

ad away. tetat e ogot about te testy tead obseved 

the wondrous sights below through the gray slide. He first tried to estimate the 

span of his terrestrial vision. The periscope, located two feet in front of him, 

had two settings, low and high magnification. On low at the 100-mile altitude, 

there theoretically should have been a field view of about 1900 miles in diameter, 

and on high, a segment 80 miles in diameter. Shepard was able to distinguish 

clearly the continental land masses from the cloud masses. He first reported 

seeing the outlines of the west coast of Florida 2nd the Gulf of Mexico. He saw 

Lake Okeechobee, in the central part of Florida, but could not see any city. 

Andros Island and the Bahamas also appeared in the scope. Later Shepard would 

remark that Earth displays flashed before him in his air-lubricated free-axis trainer 

had been most valuable in helping him to distinguish land masses passing beneath 

the spacecraft. 

As Shepard sped over the peak of his trajectory, now under fully automatic 

attitude control, he began to notice a slow pitch rate. At this point his flight plan 

dictated that he switch to the fly-by-wire mode of operation, wherein the astronaut 

operated the handcontroller to change the position of the capsule, using the 

hydrogen peroxide jets of the automatic system to effect the changes rather than 

those of the manual system. Thus Shepard would manually position Freedom 7 

for the retrofire that was scheduled to occur shortly after attaining the zenith of 

his trajectory at 116.5 miles. The astronaut switched to fly-by-wire, but as he 

started to make a yaw and roll maneuver he noticed that the spacecraft pitch 

position was low, being 20 to 25 degrees rather than the desired 34 degrees for 

retrofire attitude. Although he could not remember exactly whether he made a 

yaw or roll maneuver, he did immediately begin to work on his pitch problem. 

Then the retrorockets fired, creating a noise that was easily heard but was not 

as loud as the sound of the ALFA trainer jets. This provided what later astronauts 

on orbital missions described as "a comforting kick in the pants." Pieces of debris, 

including a restraining strap, flashed by the capsule portholes as the retropack was 

jettisoned. Glancing back to the control panel, Shepard saw no confirming 

sequence light, but Slayton radioed his telemetered knowledge of retropack jettison. 

So the astronaut pushed the manual override; finally the reluctant light appeared

This was the only failure of an event-sequence light during the MR-3 mission. 

While riding down the reentry curve toward a water landing, Shepard again 

assumed the fly-by-wire mode of control. He later reported that the feel of 

fly-by-wire was very similar to that of the trainers. Although he had a tendency 

to overcontrol in the fly-by-wire mode, he had the pleasant feeling of being in 

full command, for a few minutes at least, of his spacecraft's attitude. Then 

Shepard allowed the automatic system to regain control and stabilize the spacecraft 

355 
at star-finding got him behind in his work. As he commented later, this was 

the only time during the flight when he did not feel "on top" of the situation 

and ready for anything. The feeling of indecision passed quickly. He immediately reported when the .05-g light came on, the indication that the g-load buildup 

was about to commence. He was surprised that the light flashed and zero g ended 

about a minute ahead of the time he had come to expect from his simulated 

experience in the procedures trainer. As the reentry loads began to build up to 

a peak Df 11.6 g, the oscillations also increased moderately. As soon as the 

highest g point had passed and the spacecraft had steadied, Shepard left fly-by-wire 

and cut in the automatic control system. 

Shepard was supposed to give an altimeter reading between 80,000 and 

90,000 feet, but since his rate of descent was faster than he expected, he became 

worried over the deployment of the drogue parachute and forgot to report his 

altitude. As the altimeter dial slipped past 40,000 feet, the astronaut braced and 

listened closely for the drogue mortar to fire. He gave the Cape a reading of 

30,000 feet, and 9000 feet later the drogue snapped out without a kick. Once 

his fall was broken the periscDpe extended, giving a view of the trailing and 

reassuring drogue. The opening of the air-inlet snorkel valve to. accept ambient 

air pressure at 15,000 feet struck Shepard as coming a trifle late. The antenna 

canister atop the spacecraft blew off as planned at 10,000 feet, pulling the main 

parachute with it. Shepard clearly saw and felt it in its initial reefed and 

partially unfurled condition, which prevented the lines from snapping. Within 

seconds it spread to its 63-foot diameter, giving the astronaut a reassuring jolt, 

but one considerably less violent than he had received in centrifuge simulated 

training. "I was delighted to see it," Shepard remarked with considerable understatement. And well he might be, for at that stage of the flight most of the 

critical moments had passed. Freedom 7 had closely followed its assigned 

trajectory and the recovery forces were standing by for its pickup. 

Falling toward the water at a rate of 35 feet per second, in cDntrast to the 

maximum rate of 6550 feet per secDnd during the powered phase of the flight, 

Shepard pushed the switch to dump the remaining hydrogen peroxide fuel. 

Glancing at the dials, he noted anDther green light, indicating that the landing bag 

with its four-foot impact skirt had dropped down to cushion the water landing. 

He reported to the Cape that everything was in order before Freedom 7 dropped 

below the radio horizon. 

The astronaut used the brief remaining time before impact to remove his 

knee straps, open the faceplate shield, and remove the hose connections of his 

pressure suit. Then came the thud of water impact, comparable to landing an 

aircraft on a carrier. Freedom 7 splashed and listed over into the water on the 

356 
increasing area. Shepard quickly checked the spacecraft interior to see if any 

leaks had resulted from impact. There were none; it was dry. Now slowly 

Freedom 7 came to an upright position, taking about a minute's time, and 

Shepard jubilantly reported to Cardfile 23, the communications airplane, that he 

was all right. 

Helicopters of Marine Air Force Group 26 were waiting. Wayne E. Koons 

and George F. Cox, pilot and copilot, respectively, of the primary helicopter, had 

watched the spacecraft for about five minutes on its descent. After splashdown, 

Koons quickly maneuvered his chopper into position for the retrieval exercise. 

Glancing at Freedom 7, Cox noted that the high-frequency antenna was not in 

its correct position as he hooked the cable through the recovery loop. Koons 

maneuvered the helicopter to lift the spacecraft partially out of the water, awaiting 

pilot egress. All of a sudden the high-frequency antenna pronged upward, hit 

and dented the bottom of the helicopter, and broke off. But no damage was done; 

Shepard told Koons he would debark as soon as Freedom 7's hatch cleared the 

water. 

While Shepard worked himself into a sitting posture, Koons asked again if he 

was ready. Not yet, he replied; he was still removing his restraint harness and 

he could still see water against the ports. So the chopper raised the spacecraft 

further and Shepard unlocked the hatch. 

The astronaut then wormed his way over the hatch sill and grappled for his 

"horse collar" hoisting sling. He soon grasped the line and fitted the sling 

under his arms. On the way up he brushed against the remainder of the highfrequency antenna, but it was flexible .and did no harm. The hovering chopper 

had no difficulty getting Shepard aboard and in lifting Freedom 7 from the water 

and transporting it to the carrier Lake Champlain. When Shepard finally stepped 

on the carrier's deck, only 11 minutes had elapsed since the water landing. About 

half an hour after he had begun his free-dictation report, Shepard was called to the 

flag bridge to answer an unexpected telephone call from President Kennedy, who 

had watched the launching and followed flight details closely via television and 

who now congratulated the astronaut on his flight into space.29 

Aboard the Lake Champlain, the immediate task was determining what shape 

Shepard was in after that brief but awesome excursion through space, with its accompanying high acceleration load, weightlessness, and deceleration loads. Some 

physiologists had feared that even a few minutes of weightlessness could cause disorientation, while some psychologists were equally apprehensive about what would 

happen to a space passenger's mind. But Shepard reported that he found his 

five minutes of weightlessness quite pleasant. In fact, he said, he was already in 

the weightless state before he realized it. For evidence, he cited a washer that 

had floated beside his left ear. The weightless Shepard had grabbed for the 

357 
of weightlessness and g stresses, Shepard had demonstrated by assuming direct pilot 

control that man was quite capable of functioning in space. He experienced 

no impairment of his faculties. He had reported to Mercury Control with perfect 

clarity regarding his and the spacecraft's status, and when two physicians, M. 

Jerome Strong and Robert Laning, made a preliminary postflight physical examination of Shepard aboard the carrier, they found him to be in excellent condition. 

From beginning to end the flight mission had been almost perfect. The jubilant 

but technically perfectionist engineers called it only an "unqualified success." 30 

Now there remained no possible doubt that man could function intelligently 

aboard the Mercury spacecraft and with relative safety in a true space environment 

for 15 minutes. What of the primitive spacecraft that he had inhabited? How 

well did it perform? The answer seemed to be, very well indeed. But could its 

systems be trusted to work under even more demanding conditions in orbital 

flights? Had all the flight preparations been adequate? These were only a few 

of the questions that the returning astronaut would have to answer, if only partially and indirectly, at the seemingly interminable debriefings. 

BRIEFING THE BRIEFERS 

The initial postflight period of debriefing, held aboard the recovery ship, 

included a medical examination and free dictation by the astronaut of his 

flight impressions. This was followed by a short debriefing questionnaire. From 

the ship, the astronaut was taken to Grand Bahama Island for an exhaustive twoday debriefing by medical and technical personnel. This session used a prepared 

list of questions. Interrogations were led by Carmault B. Jackson on medical 

matters, by Robert Voas on pilot activities and perfonnance, and by Harold I. 

Johnson and Sigurd 1\. Sjoberg on systems perfonnance. Some 32 specialists 

joined in the Grand Bahama debriefing, including program managers, operations 

physicians, engineers, photographers, and public relations personnel. 

Astronaut Shepard arrives at 

Grand Bahama Island for medical and flight debriefing following 

his flight in Freedom 7. He is 

flanked by (left to right) Slayton) 

Keith Lyndell) and Grissom. 
circulation problem caused by the rubber cots at the ends of his gloved fingers, 

which meant he had to keep drawing his fingers back inside the gloves to maintain 

comfort. The helmet was satisfactory. Shepard had obtained an enlarged faceplate for his own helmet to gain better vision. He had no complaints against 

the couch or restraint harness. He remembered only minor pressure points from 

the couch while waiting on the pad. The straps around his shoulders had 

seemed tight at times before launch, but slight shrugs had relieved the tension and 

stimulated circulation. 

The biosensors caused some skin irritation for Shepard, as they had for others 

in the Mercury program, both astronauts and test subjects. Better adhesives 

were promised. Throughout the mission the suit temperature and humidity had 

been quite comfortable, Shepard reported. During the hours while he was 

waiting on the pad he was able to maintain a suit reading of 75 degrees, although 

this rose to 77 degrees a minute or two before liftoff. His suit temperature dropped 

back to 74.5 degrees for most of the flight, with a brief rise to 82 degrees during 

reentry. Just before the loss of contact as the spacecraft dropped below the 

radio horizon, his suit temperature dropped to 77 degrees. Then, in the capsule 

awaiting pickup, Shepard experienced the hottest part of the mission. When 

Byrnes suggested that ventilation procedures should be improved, Shepard remarked that he could have obtained some relief by simply unzipping his suit.31 

Other parts of the environmental control system also worked satisfactorily. 

The cabin temperature inside Freedom 7 stayed within a tolerable range from 92 

to 100 degrees. Only part of one of the two four-pound bottles of oxygen aboard 

had been needed. The drain on the coolant supply had been slight. 

The engineers among the debriefing team quizzed Shepard about the whole 

of the spacecraft attitude control systems, but especially about the workings of 

manual control. According to the flight plan, Shepard was to exercise three modes 

of control-automatic, manual, and the fly-by-wire combination of the two. 

He reported that the manual mode was quite responsive and felt the same as 

the manual mode in the procedures trainers. There seemed to be a tendency 

for the spacecraft to roll slightly clockwise while in the manual control. Postflight 

inspectors found a small piece of debris lodged in the hydrogen peroxide tubing, 

which probably caused the jets to leak a tiny increment of thrust. Near the sixminute point in the flight, according to plan, . Shepard was supposed to switch 

to the fly-by-wire mode of control. Apparently he forgot to turn off the manual 

valve, so the capsule'S attitude control system sucked fuel from both manual and 

automatic tanks. The debriefing interrogators asked him whether he got more 

control than desired; he replied that rate changes seemed high but that he thought 

this was caused by microswitch positions rather than the addition of manualproportional fuel. Shepard could not recall for certain whether he had turned 

359 
exception was a secondary escape-tower jettison rocket, which was later disas

sembled and found to have ignited by manual p~ll-ring actuation. Since Shepar

did not remember whether or not he pulled that ring, how the rocket fired re

mained a mystery. It was known that this backup component had not bee

used to separate the escape tower from the spacecraft. Otherwise the capsul

rocketry had performed flawlessly. The posigrades effected spacecraft separation

the three retrograde rockets ripple-fired to provide a 510-feet-per-second velocit

decrement, and the drogue parachute mortar discharged correctly. The gree

sequence lights appeared on Shepard's panel with heartwarming regularity excep

for the retropack jettison indicator. 

At impact the landing bag had performed as designed to cushion the shock

but one heat sink stud did pierce the fiber-glass protective shield. While the pres

sure vessel was undamaged, recovery had been too rapid for the seaworthines

of the impact bag to be tested. Several rips observed in the impact skirt aboar

the carrier apparently occurred during postflight handling rather than at impac

or by bobbing in the water. 

In general the radio communications during flight had been extremely clear

Slayton, the Mercury Control Center capsule communicator ("Cap Com"), sai

Shepard's voice transmissions were slightly garbled at liftoff but that seconds late

the quality improved markedly. Using the ultra-high-frequency system, Slay

ton was able to maintain crisp contact with Freedom 7. Shepard and Slayton 

stayed on UHF, using the Cape antenna, but then as distance increased, voic

communications deteriorated. In Mercury Control Center the communication

technician monitoring the Grand Bahama Island antenna reception switche

Slayton onto a relay from Bahama, and Shepard came in loud and clear onc

again. Slayton and Shepard communicated well with each other until main 

parachute deployment. The Mercury Control Center communicator then tried 

unsuccessfully to use Cardfile 23, the communications relay airplane. Havin

lost contact with Cap Com, Shepard had expected the recovery forces to garbl

the radio in competition to talk with him, but circuit discipline was businesslik

both before and after countdown. 32 

PRECIPITATION FROM MR-3 

The l'unqualified" success of the Shepard suborbital flight brought immens

joy and satisfaction to the managers, engineers, associates, and astronauts of th

Space Task Group. They had labored almost two and a half years for this firs

triumph. Flight failures, schedule slippages, press criticism, and most recently 

the U.S.S.R.'s attainment of the first orbital flight, all had tempered the pride o

360 
and symbolic of the American mood that day. Although the sevenmember corps 

of astronauts had combat records and test-pilot experience to their credit, one of 

them at last was truly a hero and not just a celebrity. 

In the aftermath of the flight of Freedom 7, Gilruth once again published a 

morale memorandum for his staff. This time the subject was not a single favorable newspaper article, as had been the case of a story by Los Angeles newspaperman Marvin Miles the year before, but a compilation of formal congratulations to Alan Shepard from individuals in various walks of life, including the 

King of Morocco and a group of scientists in Peru. 33 

At the postflight press conference, Admiral Rilles quipped that the space 

race had turned into a world series played with a space ball, and that the Navy, 

naturally, had "caught the crucial fly." But the much more impressive Gagarin 

flight tempered everyone's pride but the Soviets'. What most enhanced the 

United States' prestige was not the technical prowess exhibited by MR-3 but the 

contrast between the open-door policy toward news coverage of its flight and 

the impenetrable secrecy surrounding the Soviet program. 

One result of all this publicity was a widespread skepticism toward the space 

claims of the U.S.S.R. Many people around the world questioned whether a 

Red cosmonaut had flown at all. An Istanbul newspaper called Millyet, for 

example, reported that Turkish journalists, after viewing official films of both 

Shepard's and Gagarin's flights, asked of the Soviet consul general, "In the 

Shepard film we followed all phases of his flight, but in yours we followed only 

Khrushchev. Why don't you show us your space flight, too?" A Tass correspondent, replying for the consul general, was quoted as having explained, "We 

are mainly interested in the people's excitement and reaction. This is what we 

wanted you to see." 34 Premier Nikita Khrushchev was supposed to have been 

much chagrined because the "up and down" flight of Shepard gained such 

extensive media publicity even though Gagarin had long since orbited the world. 

Although NASA had kept a few secrets-such as ground-control command 

frequencies and persisting cla~sifications of old military data-the agency made 

reasonable efforts to cooperate with newsmen. 

President Kennedy presents the 

NASA Distinguished S e r vic e 

Medal to Astronaut Shepard in 

the White House Rose Garden. 

T hey are flanked by the other astronauts and Administrator Webb. 
and abroad, millions of people later filed by an itinerant NASA display to inspe

Freedom 7 at close hand. Members of Congress sensed a formidable change i

the public's attitude toward the space program. In place of widespread apath

or lack of understanding toward space exploration, many of their constituten

now seemed aware of the meaning of the adventures into the space void. Con

gressmen who had been reviewing manned space flight plans and proposals sinc

early April began thinking about increased allocations of national resources, suc

as scientific manpower, for future manned space exploration. 

On May 25, 1961, President Kennedy presented a special message to Con

gress on "urgent national needs." At one point he spoke of space and of Shepard

Now is the timc to take longer strides-time for a great new American 

enterprise-time for this nation to take a clearly leading role in space achievement, which in many ways may hold the key to our future on earth. 

I believe we possess all the resources and talents necessary. But the facts 

of the matter are that we have never made the national decision or marshalled 

the national resources required for such leadership. We have never specified 

long-range goals on an urgent time schedule, or managed our resources and our 

time s.o as to insure their fulfillment. 

Recognizing the head start obtained by the Soviets with their large rocket 

engines . . . and recognizing the likelihood that they will exploit this lead 

for some time to come in still more impressive successes, we nevertheless are 

required to make new efforts on our own. For while we cannot guarantee that 

we shall one day be first, we can guarantee that any failure to make this effort 

will make us last. We take an additional risk by making it in full view of the 

world, but as shown by the feat of Astronaut Shepard, this very risk enhances 

our stature when we are successful. . . . 

I believe 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. No single space project in this period will be more impressive to mankind, or more important for the long-range exploration of space; and none will 

be so difficult or expensive to accomplish. 3G 

The Congress, believing that the American people were also ready to suppor

an expanded and ambitious long-term space exploration program, quickl

endorsed these words of leadership from President Kennedy. Project Apoll

shifted from a circumlunar expedition plan to a lunar landing endeavor, to b

achieved before 1970, or "before this decade is out." 

All through March, April, and May, members of the space committee

of the Senate and the House busily quizzed James E. Webb, Dryden, Seamans

and other leaders of NASA about the implications of the Russian program an

about how the planned time for the development of Apollo could be cut in half

But the appropriations debate was brief. By August 7, the Senators and Repre

362 
legislators understood that NASA would ask for a supplement about January 

1962.36 

Thus American aspirations in space, personalized by Astronaut Shepard on 

May 5 and codified by President Kennedy's endorsement of NASA's follow-on 

plans on May 25, 1961, gained clear direction, ample funds, and official sanction. 

The national mood for space had definitely changed from what it had been at 

the uncertain beginning of the Kennedy administration. A goal of developing 

space technology for space exploration was a tangible means to "get the country 

moving again." 

Industries born of the frantic missile race of the mid-fifties would turn more 

and more to space-related research and development. Unlike military technology, such products were not needed in quantity; reliable performance was 

their highest criterion. Whereas Project Mercury, toward the end of its manufacturing phase in June 1961, supposedly affected approximately one out of 

90 people in the United States through industrial support of some 10,000 companies, Project Apollo as redefined by NASA and approved by the President 

would take far more of a national effort.37 Kennedy had promised that expanded conquest of space would be difficult and costly. But so impressive and 

dramatic an enterprise was Apollo, so full of engineering and gadgetry, that the 

project seemed made to order for a new American destiny. To President 

Kennedy, the United States could win an open competition with the Soviet 

Union in space because of the inherent superiority of an open society. 

Besides its portents, the President's decision had an immediate impact on the 

Space Task Group, an organization that had been studying the possibilities of 

advanced manned flight as early as 1959. In September 1960, the Apollo 

projects office formally appeared on the organization chart of the Space Task 

Group's Flight Systems Division, indicating the fulltime status of planners for 

Apollo. But the day after President Kennedy's speech of May 25, Wesley L. 

Hjornevik, formerly Glennan's administrative assistant and now Gilruth's, signed 

a notice to the Space Task Group that reassured the Mercury team of a future 

with Apollo. New funds and facilities, if approved by Congress as expected, 

would certainly affect the personal lives of the Space Task Group members by 

the necessity to reorganize and perhaps to relocate. 38 

NASA Headquarters had recognized for some time that a center was needed 

to survey the whole spectrum of manned space flight programs. On January 

3, 1961, the Space Task Group had at last been designated an autonomous 

field element, no longer to be considered a part of the Goddard Space Flight 

Center. The Space Task Group's personnel strength had increased to a total 

of 794 people in mid-1961. Until Kennedy's lunar landing decision was en363 
for the Space Task Group

s civil servants. Back in February 1961, Gilruth had 

asked his second in command, Charles J. Donlan, to begin considering the mos

feasible programs to succeed Project Mercury. Whatever the future programs 

were, they would require new, separate, functional facilities. By Maya draf

study was completed on how such undertakings should be managed. Entitled 

"Organizational Concepts and Staffing Requirements" for a "Manned Spacecraft Development Center," the study declared in its preamble: 

One of the essential elements required to implement an agressive national 

effort for manned space exploration is a capability within government to conceive, manage, and technically monitor the development of large manned 

spacecraft and to operate the spacecraft and related ground support equipment. This portion of the total job is in itself one of the largest, if not the 

largest research and development job ever undertaken in war or peace. 

The nucleus of the capability now exists in the Space Task Group, which 

has handled, with industry and other government resources, the Mercury Program. However, a program of the much larger magnitude now contemplated 

would require a substantial expansion of staff and facilities and instituting 

an organizational and management concept consistent with the magnitude 

of the program. How-and how effective-the capability is organized will 

have a direct bearing on the success or failure of the total program. 3D 

Only a few days had elapsed after President Kennedy's call to Congress for 

approval of the lunar landing program when the rank and file members of the 

Space Task Group began to read speculations in their local Virginia newspapers 

about where they might have to move. Few were eager to leave the Virginia 

peninsula. Many were glad to stop worrying about a move to Beltsville, Maryland, but no one knew what the alternative site would be. While wives and 

families fretted, the men and women of the Space Task Group were busier than 

ever before, because the group had just entered the final manned phase of the 

Mercury program. In August 1961, NASA Headquarters ordered John F. 

Parsons, Associate Director of the Ames Research Center, to head a survey team 

to recommend the permanent location for a manned spacecraft center. One of 

the members of the Parsons team, Martin Byrnes, was subsequently assigned to 

study relocation programs for STG's members.40 

Responsibilities lay heavily upon STG. It had to accelerate the Mercury 

program to achieve its primary objective, manned orbital flight. It should star

to recruit personnel and organize activities for the newly authorized Project Apollo

And, most immediately, it must carry out the second suborbital Mercury flight 

as scheduled. Once the next astro'naut was recovered, the operations team in 

concert with the Space Task Group management would have to decide just how 

far to carry the Mercury-Redstone suborbital program. Many of the 30 or so 

364 
oweve, oe tg seeed cea: t was cetay ot ecessay to t

aate 

astronauts on suborbital flights before trying to duplicate or triplicate Gagarin's 

feat. 

SECOND SUBORBITAL TRIAL 

Preparation for the second suborbital flight of man into space was essentially the same as that for Shepard and Freedom 7. Much of the astronaut 

and ground support training, spacecraft checkout, and booster preparation 

had been accomplished concurrently with the grooming of MR-3, since the 

anticipated six-week interval was too short to begin anew. Thus Air Force 

Captain Virgil 1. Grissom, told by Gilruth in January 1961 that he would 

probably be the pilot for Mercury-Redstone 4, and John H. Glenn, Jr., once again 

the suborbital backup pilot, returned to work quickly after Shepard's flight. 

In April all three had undergone refresher centrifuge training at Johnsville, 

and now they were well fortified to endure the actual Redstone acceleration 

profile. 

Most of their training period was spent at the Cape so that Grissom and 

Glenn could follow the technical progress of spacecraft and launch vehicle by 

participating in minute checkout operations. In Hangar S the astronauts 

exercised themselves and all their capsule systems in the simulated high-altitude 

chamber tests. Their physicians recorded metabolic data and refined physiological reactions. Communication checks, manual control system checks, 

sequence system verifications, and many simulated missions in the procedures 

trainer kept them busy. Twice Grissom and Glenn went back to Langley for sessions in the ALFA trainer. In all~, each simulated about 100 Mercury-Redstone 

flights before the upcoming MR-4 launch, scheduled for July.41 

Spacecraft No. 11, designated since October for the second manned Mercury 

flight, had come off the production line at McDonnell in May 1960. As the 

first operational capsule with a centerline window, No. 11 more nearly approximated the orbital version of the Mercury capsule than Shepard's Freedom 7, 

or spacecraft No. 7.42 

Among other innovations in No. 11 for MR-4 was an explosive side hatch, 

whose evolution, encouraged by the astronaut corps, had begun early in the 

Mercury program. The original egress procedure had been to climb out 

through the antenna compartment, a difficult maneuver that required the removal of a small pressure bulkhead. Since all the astronauts had found it 

hard to snake out the top of the frustum and cylinder, the STG and McDonnell 

designers had concluded that removal of an injured astronaut would be even 

more precarious. Moreover, valuable time would be lost in such a rescue 

365 
At left) Grissom in spacecraft check. At right) Grissom (seated inside ) tests space

craft on the gantry with Guenter Wendt of McDonnell Aircraft Corporation

MR-4 
 

Preflight 
 

MR-4 Mission Review Conference at th e Cape: left to right) Slayton) Grissom) Kenneth M. Nagler) Warren J. North) William K. Douglas) Glenn) Shepard) Charles 

W. Mathews) John D. Hodge) Stanley C. White) and Christopher C. Kraft) Jr. 
egress hatch models

one with a latch, which was used on Hams MR2 and 

Shepard's MR-3 missions, the other with an explosive hatch cover. The 

simple latch mechanism weighed 69 pounds, too much of a weight addition 

for incorporation in the orbital version of the spacecraft. The explosive hatch, 

on the other hand, utilized the 70 bolts of the original design; a .06-inch hole 

was bored into each of the quarter-inch titanium bolts to provide a weak point. 

When a mild detonating fuse, placed in a groove around each bolt, was energized, the bolts were sheared simultaneously and the hatch sprang open. 

There were two ways to activate the explosive egress hatch during recovery. 

About six to eight inches from the astronaut's right arm, as he lay in his couch, 

was a knobbed plunger. The pilot would remove a pin and press the plunger 

with a fist-force of five or six pounds, detonating the small explosive charge and 

blasting the hatch 25 feet away in a second. If the pin was in place, a fist-force 

of 40 pounds was required. A rescuer outside the capsule could blow open the 

hatch simply by removing a small panel from the fuselage side and pulling a 

lanyard. This complete explosive hatch weighed only 23 pounds. 43 

The welcome new trapezoidal window assembly on spacecraft No. 11 replaced the two 10-inch side ports through which Shepard strained to see. The 

pilot now could look upward slightly and see directly outside. Visually the 

field covered 30 degrees in the horizontal plane and 33 degrees in the vertical. 

The Corning Glass Works of Corning, N ew York, designed and developed the 

multilayered panes. The outer pane was made of Vycor glass, .35-inch thick, 

and could withstand temperatures on the order of 150Q to 1800 degrees F. 

Three panels were bonded to make the inner pane, one a .17 -inch-thick sheet 

of Vycor, the two others made of tempered glass. This fenestration was as 

strong as any part of the capsule pressure vessel.44 

The manual controls for the second manned flight incorporated the new 

rate stabilization control system. With it the astronaut could control the rate 

of spacecraft attitude movements by small turns of his hand controller rather 

than by jockeying the device to attain the desired position. This rate damping 

or rate augmentation system, like power steering on an automobile, gave finer 

and easier handling qualities and another redundant means of driving the pitch, 

yaw, and roll thrusters. 

By the time of the MR-4 flight, Lewis Research Center and Space Task 

Group engineers had analyzed the thrust rating of the posigrade rockets and 

had made a valuable discovery. Fired into the booster-spacecraft adapter, the 

posigrade rockets developed 78 percent greater thrust than when fired openly. 

,Accordingly the capsule separation rockets when ignited inside the adapter, 

producing what the NASA testers called a "popgun effect," afforded an initial 

367 
spacecraft should be about 4000 feet apart on their suborbital trajectory a

retrofire. The unbraked booster would hit the water some 566.2 seconds afte

launch, while the longer and steeper trajectory of the spacecraft would keep i

aloft 911.1 seconds. The booster would land about 16Y2 miles beyond the space

craft.45 Because of the relatively short distance between the two impact points

STG was concerned enough to assign John P. Mayer and Ted H. Skopinsk

to study the problem, especially as related to possible recontact of the spacecraf

and the booster after separation. As a result of the studies, Skopinski's recom

mendations for minor changes in the sequencing of retrofire were accepted a

solutions to prevent recontact. 

Other hardware changes involved attaching a redesigned fairing for the 

capsule adapter clamp-ring, rearranging the capsule instrument panel, and add

ing more foam padding to the head area of the contour couch. The fairing 

and some more insulation should overcome the vibration and consequent blurred 

vision Shepard had complained about, while the rearrangement of the instru

ments sought to improve the eye-scan pattern, which Shepard had found poor

These changes cost several more weeks' time. On July 15, 1961, Gilruth 

affirmed that Grissom would be the prime pilot for Mercury-Redstone No.4 

and that Glenn would be his stand-in. Grissom in turn announced that he had 

chosen the name Liberty Bell 7 as the most appropriate call-sign for his bell

shaped capsule, because the name was to Americans almost synonymou

with "freedom" and symbolic numerically of the continuous teamwork i

represented.46 

Modifications made on Grissom's pressure suit reflected the experiences o

Shepard's flight. Nylon-sealed ball-bearing rings were fitted at the glove con

nections to allow full rotation of the wrists while the suit was pressurized. A 

new personal parachute harness was designed to keep the chute out of the way

On the chest of Grissom's suit was a convex mirror, called a "hero's medal" by 

the astronaut corps, that served simply to allow the pilot-observer camera to 

photograph instrument readings. Another welcome addition to the suit wa

a urine reservoir, fabricated the day before the flight. Although during hi

flight Grissom would find the contraption somewhat binding, it did work

Lastly, Grissom's helmet was equipped with new microphones that promised to 

filter out more noise and make transmission quality even better. 47 

Materials successfully used in other phases of the space program also became 

a part of the second manned flight. In the continuing quest for weight reduction

a lightweight, radar-reflective life raft was developed jointly by the Langley 

Research Center and the Space Task Group. Weighing three pounds and fou

ounces (45 percent lighter than the original version), this raft was constructed 

368 
astrona~lt's left arm. 

Grissom's flight plan was revised rapidly and altered substantially as a result 

of MR-3. Shepard had really been overloaded with activities during his five 

minutes of weightlessness. N ow Grissom was given a chance to look through his 

new trapezoidal window to learn more about man's visual abilities in space. If 

he could recognize landmarks for flight reference, the pilot tasks for the Mercury 

orbital fljghts might be considerably simplified. Shepard had assumed manual 

control of only one axis of movement-yaw, pitch, or roll-at a time, whereas 

Grissom had instructions to assume complete manual control as soon as he could, 

to make three maneuvers in about one minute instead of Shepard's 12 minutes, 

and then to spend as much time as possible making exterior observations. 

Mercury-Redstone booster No.8 had arrived at Cape Canaveral on June 8. 

Kurt H. Debus' contingent of Wernher von Braun's team and G. Merritt Preston's 

capsule checkout team had proceeded with the mating of the launch vehicle and 

capsule and the checkout requirements. On July 13, the flight safety review was 

held and the spacecraft was pronounced ready for flight. Two days later 

Walter Williams heard the reports during the mission review; the Redstone and 

Liberty Bell 7 were pronounced ready to go. The recovery ships, anticipating 

the launch date on Tuesday, July 18, moved into their assigned positions. 

Essentially a repeat of MR-3, Grissom's flight was to reach an apogee of 

116 miles, over a range of 299 miles, with the astronaut feeling a maximum 

acceleration load of 6.33 g and deceleration of 10.96 g. Only the launching 

azimuth, changed by three degrees to stay within range bounds, varied from 

Shepard's flight into space. 49 

On July 16 the news media received a weather bulletin predicting that the 

cloud cover in the launch area for the next 48 hours would be below average, 

but that the impact area would be slightly cloudier than usual. The mission was 

postponed early Tuesday, the 18th, in hope of better weather. Fortunately the 

frosty liquid oxygen had not been loaded so the launch delay was only 24, rather 

than 48, hours. 

Early Wednesday, July 19, Grissom, asleep in his quarters on the balcony of 

Hangar S, was awakened by his physician, William Douglas, who told him that 

Walter Williams' operations team was pushing for a 7 a.m. launch to beat the 

weather. The launch day routine began again. By 5 a.m. Grissom was up in 

the gantry. He slid into his niche; the count resumed and continued unbroken 

until 10 minutes and 30 seconds before launch, when a hold was called to wait 

for a rift in the cloud cover. When no break appeared, the mission was scrubbed 

again. This time the liquid oxygen had been tanked~ so a dreary 48-hour delay 

would be necessary. 50 

The weather conditions on July 21 were still not ideal. The view from an 

369 
success of the mission, the launch should come off as scheduled. 51 

Because Grissom had shaved and showered before going to bed rather than 

before his low-residue breakfast, and because Slayton, the blockhouse communicator, briefed the astronaut on the status of the capsule and booster during the 

van ride to the pad rather than just before gantry ascent, the routine was a bi

less hurried. George E. Ruff, an Air FO'rce psychiatrist, had time to interrogate 

Grissom about his feelings before he lay in his contour couch for MR-4's liftoff. 5

Grissom was unruffled, calm, and pO'ised as he entered Liberty Bell 7 again

The count resumed and proceeded smoothly until 45 minutes before launch time

when a gantry technician discovered that one of the 70 hatch bolts was misaligned

A 30-minute hold was called, during which the McDonnell and STG supervisory 

engineers decided that the remaining 69 bolts were sufficient to hold and blow 

the hatch, so the misaligned bolt was not replaced. The countdO'wn was resumed

but two more holds for minor reasons cost another hour's wait. 53 

Alone in his capsule awaiting liftoff, Grissom experienced a wide range o

impressions. As the gantry, or service structure, moved back from the launch 

vehicle, he had the illusion that he was falling. His pulse rate ranged from 64 to

162 beats per minute, depending upon his feelings. His heart beat rose during 

the oxygen purge, fell while the hatch bolt repair decision was being made, rO'se 

again when the go decision was made, and finally doubled at launch. His liftof

was at 7: 20 a.m. 54 

LIBERTY BELL TOLLS 

Grissom later admitted at the postflight debriefing that he was "a bit scared" 

at liftoff, but he added that he soon gained confidence along with the g buildup

Hearing the engine roar at the pedestal, he thought that his elapsed-time clock 

had started late. Like Shepard, he was amazed at the smooth quality of the 

liftoff, but then he noticed gradually more severe vibrations, never violent enough 

to impair his vision. To the watchers on the ground, the Redstone and the 

capsule appeared to rise slowly and to pass through a thin, broken cloud windO'w

Then the rocket disappeared, leaving a contrail that was visible on the beach for 

about a minute. Grissom's cabin pressure sealed off at the prO'per altitude, abou

27,000 feet, and he felt elated that the environmental control system was in good 

working order. The suit and cabin temperature, about 57.5 and 97 degrees F

respectively, were quite comfortable. Watching his instruments for the pitch rate 

of the Redstone, Grissom saw it follow directions as programmed, tilting ove

about one degree per second. 

370 
pg

, g 

smoke, to' his right. At twO' minutes and 22 seconds after launch, the Redstone's 

Rocketdyne engine cut off after building a velocity of 6561 feet per second. 

Grissom had a strong sensation of tumbling during the transition from high to 

zero g, and, while he had become familiar with this sensation in centrifuge 

training, for a moment he lost his bearings. 

The Redstone coasted for 10 seconds after its engine cut off; then a sharp 

report signaled that the posigrade rockets were popping the capsule loose from 

the booster. Although Grissom peered out his window throughout his ship's 

turnaround maneuver, he never caught sight of his launch vehicle. Angular 

motion was perceptible to Grissom only by watching the needle move on the dial 

or by seeing an Earth reference by chance. Another cue to the spacecraft's 

movement was the Sun's rays, which gradually moved up his torso toward his 

face, threatening temporary blindness. Grissom fretted over the automatic turnaround that should have reversed the capsule faster. 

With turnaround accomplished, the Air Force jet pilot for the first time 

became a space pilot, assuming manual-proportional control. A constant urge 

to look out the window made concentrating on his control tasks difficult. He told 

Shepard back in Mercury Control that the panorama of Earth's horizon, presenting 

an 800-mile arc at peak altitude, was fascinating. His instruments rated a poor 

second to the spectacle below. 

Turning reluctantly to his dials and control stick, Grissom made a pitch movement change but was past his desired mark. He jockeyed the handcDntroller 

stick for position, trying to damp out all oscillations, then made a yaw movement 

and went too far in that direction. By the time the proper attitude was attained-, 

the short time allocated for these maneuvers had been used, so he omitted the roll 

movement altogether. The manual controls impressed Grissom as very sluggish 

when compared to the Mercury procedures trainer. Then he switched to the 

new rate command control system and found perfect response, although fuel 

consumption was high. 55 

After the pitch and yaw maneuvers, Grissom made a roll-over movement so 

he could see the ground from his window. Some land beneath the clouds (later 

determined to be western Florida around the Apalachicola area) appeared in 

the hazy distance, but the pilot was unable to identify it. Suddenly Cape Canaveral came into view so clearly that Grissom found it hard to believe that his slantrange was over 150 miles. 

He saw Merritt Island, the Banana River, the Indian River, and what appeared 

to be a large airport runway. South of Cape Canaveral, he saw what he believed 

to be West Palm Beach. He tried to report to Shepard on the high-frequency 

371 
the spacecraft in its reentry attitude. Grissom had initiated the retrorocke

sequence and the capsule was arcing downward. His pulse reached 171 beat

per minute. Retrofire gave him the distinct and peculiar feeling that he had 

reversed his backward flight through space and was actually moving face forward

As he plummeted downward, he saw what appeared to be two of the spent retro

rockets pass across the periscope view after the retrorocket package had been 

jettisoned. 

Pitching the spacecraft over into a reentry attitude of 14 degrees from Earth

vertical, the pilot tried to see the stars out his observation window. Instead the 

glare of sunlight filled his capsule, making it difficult to read the panel dials

particularly those with blue lights. Grissom felt that he, would not have noticed 

the .05-g light if he had not known it was about to flash on. 

Reentry presented no problem. Grissom could not feel the oscillations following the g buildup; he could only read them on the rate indicators. Meanwhile 

he continued to report to the Mercury Control Center on his electric curren

reading, fuel quantity, g loads, and other instrument indications. Condensation 

and smoke trailed off the heatshield at about 65,000 feet as Liberty Bell 7 plunged 

back into the atmosphere. 

The drogue parachute deployed on schedule at 21,000 feet. Grissom said 

he saw the deployment and felt some resulting pulsating motion, but not enough 

to worry him. Main parachute deployment occurred at 12,300 feet, which was 

about 1000 feet higher than the design nominal altitude. Watching the main 

chute unfurl, Grissom spotted a six-inch L-shaped tear and another two-inch 

puncture in the canopy. Although he worried about them, the holes grew no 

bigger and his rate of descent soon slowed to about 28 feet per second. Dumping 

his peroxide control fuel, the pilot began transmitting his panel readings. 

A "clunk" confirmed that the landing bag had dropped in preparation for 

impact. Grissom then removed his oxygen hose and opened his visor but 

deliberately left the suit ventilation hose attached. Impact was milder than he 

had expected, although the capsule heeled over in the water until Grissom was 

lying on his left side. He thought he was facing downward. The capsule 

gradually righted itself, and, as the window cleared the water, Grissom jettisoned 

the reserve parachute and activated the rescue aids switch. Liberty Bell 7 still 

appeared watertight, although it was rolling badly with the swells. 

Preparing for recovery, he disconnected his helmet and checked himself for 

debarkation. The neck dam did not unroll easily; Grissom tinkered with his 

suit collar to ensure his buoyancy if he had to get out of the spacecraft quickly. 

When the recovery helicopters, which had taken to the air at launch time and 

visually followed the contrails and parachute descent, were still about two miles 

372 
ppg gpp

suit gloves was awkward, and several times the suit ventilation caused the neck 

dam to balloon, but the pilot simply placed his finger between neck and dam to 

allow the air to escape. 

After logging the panel data, Grissom asked the helicopters to begin the 

approach for pickup. He removed the pin from the hatch-cover detonator 

and lay back in the dry couch. "I was lying there, minding my own business," 

he said afterward, "when I heard a dull thud." The hatch cover blew away, 

and salt water swished into the capsule as it bobbed in the ocean. The third man 

to return from space was faced with the first serious emergency; Liberty Bell 7 

was shipping water and sinking fast. 

Grissom had difficulty recollecting his actions at this point, but he was certain 

that he had not touched the hatch-activation plunger. He doffed his helmet, 

grasped the instrument panel with his right hand, and scurried out the sloshing 

hatchway. Floating in the sea, he was thankful that he had unbuckled himself 

earlier from most of his harness, including the chest restraints. Otherwise he 

might not have been able to abandon ship. 

Lieutenant John Reinhard, copilot of the nearest recovery helicopter, reported 

afterward that the choppers were making their final approach for pickup. He 

was preparing to cut the capsule's antenna whip (according to a new procedure) 

with a squib-actuated cutter at the end of a pole, when he saw the hatch cover 

fly off, strike the water at a distance of about five feet from the hatch, and then 

go skipping over the waves. Next he saw Grissom's head appear, and the astronaut began climbing through the hatch. Once out, the pressure-suited spaceman 

swam away. 

Instead of turning his attention to Grissom, Lewis completed his approach to 

the sinking spacecraft, as both he and Reinhard were intent on capsule recovery. 

This action was a conditioned reflex based on past training experience. While 

training off the Virginia beaches the helicopter pilots had noted that the astronauts 

seemed at home in and to enjoy the water. So Reinhard quickly clipped the 

high-frequency antenna as soon as the helicopter reached Liberty Bell 7. Throwing aside the antenna cutting device, Reinhard picked up the shepherd's hook 

recovery pole and carefully threaded the crook through the recovery loop on top 

of the capsule. By this time Lewis had lowered the helicopter to assist Reinhard 

in his task to a point that the chopper's three wheels were in the water. Liberty 

Bell 7 sank out of sight, but the pickup pole twanged as the attached cable went 

taut, indicating to the helicopter pilots that they had made their catch. 

Reinhard immediately prepared to pass the floating astronaut the personnel 

hoist. But at that moment Lewis called a warning that a detector light had 

flashed on the instrument panel, indicating that metal chips were in the oil sump 

373 
Water-filled Liberty Bell 7 

denies the helicopter's lift. 

Flight of 

Liberty Bell 7 

July 21, 1961 

374 

Meanwhile Grissom, having made certain that he was not snared by any lines, 

noticed that the primary helicopter was having trouble raising the submerged 

spacecraft. He swam back to the capsule to see if he could assist but found the 

cable properly attached. When he looked up for the personnel line, he saw the 

helicopter start to move away. 

Suddenly Grissom realized that he was not riding as high in the water as he 

had been. All the time he had been in the water he kept feeling air escape 

through the neck dam. The more air he lost, the less buoyancy he had. Moreover, he had forgotten to secure his suit inlet valve. Swimming was becoming 

difficult, and now with the second helicopter moving in he found the rotor wash 

between the two aircraft was making swimming more difficult. Bobbing under 

the waves, Grissom was scared, angry, and looking for a swimmer from one of 

the helicopters to help him tread water. Then he caught sight of a familiar 

face, that of George Cox, aboard the second helicopter. Cox was the copilot 

who had retrieved both the chimpanzee Ham and Astronaut Shepard. With 

his head barely above water, Grissom found the sight of Cox heartening. 

Cox tossed the "horse-collar" lifeline straight to Grissom, who immediately 

wrapped himself into the sling backwards. Lack of orthodoxy mattered little 

to Grissom now, for he was on his way to the safety of the helicopter, even though 

swells dunked him twice more before he got aboard. His first thought was to 

get a life preserver on. Grissom had been either swimming or floating for a 

period of only four or five minutes, "although it seemed like an eternity to me," 

as he said afterward. 

As the first helicopter moved away from Grissom, it struggled valiantly to 

raise the spacecraft high enough to drain the water from the impact bag. Once 

the capsule was almost clear of the water, but like an anchor it prevented the 

helicopter from moving forward. The flooded Liberty Bell 7 weighed over 5000 

pounds, a thousand pounds beyond the helicopter's lifting capacity. The pilot, 

watching his insistent red warning light, decided not to chance losing two craft 

in one day. He finally cast loose, allowing the spacecraft to sink swiftly. Martin 

Byrnes, aboard the carrier, suggested that a marker be placed at the point so that 

the capsule might be recovered later. Rear Admiral J. E. Clark advised Byrnes 

that in that area the depth was about 2800 fathoms. 

On the carrier Randolph, examining physicians Strong and Laning, the 

same men who had gone over Shepard, found Grissom extremely tired. But 

the MR-4 astronaut elected to proceed with his preliminary debriefing before 

going on to Grand Bahama. The recovery finale, of course, continually intruded 

in the discussion. Grissom said he was extremely grateful to Walter Schirra for 

the developmental work he had done on the neck dam. He felt that this had 

saved his life, although later tests disclosed other difficulties. The debriefing 

375 
a moot point in view of the sluggishness he had encountered with the manua

system and the apparent play in the control stick linkage. Other than this 

anomaly, the spacecraft had performed well; noises of the sequential events had 

provided good cues; vibrations had been minimal; the new window had been a 

delight and should prove useful on orbital flights; and the environmental contro

system had functioned well. But, said Grissom, there were too many couch 

t:estraint straps; the panel lights were too dim; the oxygen consumption rate was 

high; the urinal device needed further development; the high-frequency communication circuit was unsuccessful; and hydrogen peroxide fuel consumption 

proved to be high on the rate control system. The last item of that list caused 

little concern among the Space Task Group engineers, for they had decided tha

the rate command mode would be used primarily for reentry, when fuel economy 

was less important. 

At Grand Bahama, Grissom rested and appeared to have suffered no abnorma

effects from flight into space. The evaluators conceded, however, that the abnormal recovery experience would have made any such effects difficult to analyze 

or to attribute to flight causes. Further questioning of the astronaut followed 

the routine established in Shepard's debriefing. 56 

Obviously one of the major problems to be explained and resolved following 

the flight of Liberty Bell 7 was the malfunction of the explosive egress hatch

Before the mission, Minneapolis-Honeywell had conducted environmental tests 

to qualify the hatch and igniter assembly. Although the tests had been run with 

the pin installed, conditions had been severe. The component had been subjected to low and high temperature ranges, a 100-g shock force, and salt-spray 

and water-immersion tests. After MR-4, the Space Task Group established 

a committee that included Astronaut Schirra to study the hatch problem. Tests 

were conducted in an environment even more severe than that used by the 

manufacturer, but no premature explosions occurred. Studies were made of 

individuals operating the panel switches on the side nearest the actuator; the 

clearance margin appeared to be adequate. According to Schirra, "There was 

only a very remote possibility that the plunger could have been actuated 

inadvertently by the pilot." 

The mystery of Grissom's hatch was never solved to everyone's satisfaction

Among the favorite hypotheses were that the exterior lanyard might have become 

entangled with the landing bag straps; that the ring seal might have been omitted 

on the detonation plunger, reducing the pressure necessary to actuate it; or that 

static electricity generated by the helicopter had fired the hatch cover. But with 

the spacecraft and its onboard evidence lying 15,000 feet down on the bottom 

of the Atlantic Ocean, it was impossible to determine the true cause. The only 

376 
gjy pp

planned. In addition, Grissom would be the only astronaut who used the hatc

without receiving a slight hand injury. As he later reminded Glenn, Schirra, an

Cooper, this helped prove he had not touched his hatch plunger. 57 

TITOV WIDENS THE GAP 

Despite the loss of Liberty Bell 7, the Mercury-Redstone phase of the program 

. had been so successful that there was little reason for keeping it alive. Th

termination of the manned suborbital flights had seemed predictable afte

Gagarin and certain after Shepard. A month and a half before Grissom flew

the Space Task Group had decided to cancel the fourth such flight, MR-6

Silverstein and Gilruth also had considered canceling the third flight, MR-5

to concentrate on Mercury-Atlas operations. But Silverstein believed that dat

obtained from Grissom's MR-4 should be appraised before deciding whethe

to bypass the MR-5. 

Besides, at that time the subject was politically sensitive. Since three astro

nauts were training for the Mercury-Redstone missions, the public expectation

expressed in Congress and through the press, was that there would be at leas

three manned Redstone flights. But if Mercury-Atlas could be expedited, a

astronaut making three orbits would eclipse the cosmonaut who had made on

orbit. 

On August 7, 1961, all such hopes were erased by the day-long, 17-orbi

flight and successful recovery of Cosmonaut Gherman S. Titov. Whe

the U.S.S.R. announced its spectacular second space flight, some Americans wer

filled with awe, some with admiration, and some even with fear, while a few 

expressed only scornful disbelief. At 9 a.m., Moscow time, on August 6, 1961

the Soviet pilot rocketed into orbit aboard Vostok II. The space voyage of thi

26-year-old Russian covered 17.5 orbits and took 25 hours and 18 minutes.58 

After the data gathered from the Grissom flight had been evaluated, NASA 

and Space Task Group managers decided that little could be gained from any 

further Mercury-Redstone missions. On August 14, Paul Purser drafted 

termination recommendation for Gilruth's submittal to Silverstein. Purser pointed 

out that the Redstone had done well its job of qualifying the spacecraft, astronauts

and most other critical aspects of the operation. Mercury-Redstone also had 

validated the various training devices, and it had uncovered many technica

problems, none of which appeared to be insoluble before an American orbita

flight. 59 Now it was time to turn to the principal Mercury-Atlas problem areas

such as explosive hatch, inverter heating, oxygen usage rate, control system linkage

and egress training, and to cope with the more compiex Atlas program. Fou

377 
the Redstone must now be retired after helping gain a toehold on space. 

Several accounts of the Soviet manned space feats indicated striking similarities 

in cosmonaut and astronaut selection and training. The Russians were chosen 

by a strenuous selection program, which was much like the American procedure, 

but their selection emphasized youth and stamina, rather than flight experience 

and engineering. Soviet training, like American, employed the human centrifuge, 

altitude chamber, isolation, technical systems study, and personal physical training. 

Also, three pilots trained in competition for the first flight, Titov being Gagarin's 

backup pilot on Vostok I of April 12. Gagarin's and Titov's accounts of liftoff 

and orbital flight described the same phenomena-g-Ioad buildup, vibrations, and 

impressions of weightlessness. 

Titov was reported to have exercised manual control. This transliteration was 

taken in some circles to mean that he changed his orbital plane, but the Mercury 

experts believed that Titov's manual control was for attitude only, like that 

exercised by Shepard and Grissom. Titov reported sleeping seven hours or more, 

and some translations indicated that he was awakened by his weightless arms 

floating. This last claim was too much for David Lawrence, a syndicated 

columnist, who suggested that the flight might have been a hoax. But the members of the Space Task Group never doubted the authenticity of either Vostok I 

or Vostok II. Too much was similar. Although only two or three people in the 

Space Task Group could read Russian, the reports translated from Soviet journals 

seemed to correspond to their own experience. 

One of Titov's publicized problems caused concern among NASA and Space 

Task Group medical specialists. Before entering his rest period, Titov complained 

of feelings "akin to seasickness" and became nauseated. He had to be careful 

not to move his head too swiftly in any direction. After sleep, his nausea apparently abated; it finally disappeared completely when Titov began to feel reentry 

pressures. NASA aeromedical advisers suggested that the first American in 

orbital flight ought to guard against, watch for, and test out this peculiar 

physiological reaction reported by Titov and the Soviets.c1 

Psychologically, the Russian Vostok feats created some uneasiness in the 

United States. Many people admired the Soviet's technological proficiency but 

were concerned by the strategic implications. The fact that Titov's orbital track 

in a near-polar plane carried him over the United States three times was alarming 

to some people. In spite of the fact that the decision for the accelerated space 

program was confirmed, the term "space lag" began appearing more frequently 

in the press and in the statements of some Congressmen. Criticism of NASA, 

the departed Eisenhower administration, and even the Kennedy administration 

mounted. After the Gagarin flight, for example, Democratic Senator Stuart 

378 
officialdom as carping over NASAs easy pace in implementing the luna

landing program outlined by President Kennedy. No specifications for a luna

spacecraft yet were evident; no agreement on the route to take or on the necessar

launch vehicle had been reached. But these were mostly NASA Headquarter

worries; the primary task of the Space Task Group still lay ahead. Regardles

of the fact that Mercury could now only duplicate the feats of the Vostoks

IProject Apollo, the manned lunar-landing project, depended upon Mercur

Mark II (later named Gemini), the two-man rendezvous and docking project

and Gemini depended upon the fulfillment of Mercury; in turn, that depende

upon the strength and stability of Atlas. The day Titov came back to Earth

NASA's Space Task Group announced candidly, if not calmly, that the first tr

at putting an American in orbit might slip unavoidably into January 1962.6

379 
 

Xlln 
 .....................................................................................................................................................

Final Rehearsals 


W ITH the 1961 Labor Day holiday passed, the Space Task Group buckl

down to an exceptionally busy season, one that was to be climaxed wi

STG's own demise and phoenix-like resurrection. Its activities had becom

farflung. Dead ahead, at Cape Canaveral, loomed the first orbital flight te

of a Mercury capsule, carrying a true "black box," called a "crewman sim

lator," instead of an astronaut. Then, tOG, plans long had been ripening f

a multi-orbital Mercury-Scout flight to qualify the ground tracking and com

munications network. A second orbital flight carrying a chimpanzee in th

spacecraft couch also had an early place in the program. 

Meanwhile NASA agents had completed an extensive survey of potenti

sites for the new development and operations installation for manned spac

projects of the future. At its Langley Air Force Base domicile, STG was bus

planning for its expanding role in manned space exploration. Its personn

were weighing persistent rumors that the new Manned Spacecraft Center migh

be located in Texas, somewhere near the booming city of Houston. 

The first objective of all this simultaneous activity was Mercury-Atlas 4

the fifth flight of an Atlas-launched spacecraft. This mission had been planne

and replanned many times before the unsuccessful launch of MA-3 back i

April 1961, and the failure of that mission directly affected the MA-4 plan

During the early months of 1960, MA-3 had been scheduled for a suborbita

flight, with a crewman simulator aboard. First plans called for the Atlas booste

to be held 150 feet per second below orbital velocity, with capsule separatio

occurring at the normal 100-mile-orbital-insertion altitude. Forty seconds afte

separation, retrofire was to have produced a landing beyond the Canary Island

and about 100 miles short of the African coast. And when this test was com

pleted successfully, MA-4 was to repeat MA-3, but with a chimpanzee in th

cockpit. Spacecraft No. 9 was to be specially fitted for the MA-4 flight. 

Toward the end of 1960, however, Walter C. Williams advised the com

manding officer of the recovery force, Destroyer Flotilla Four, that MA-4 would 

try for three orbits with a crewman simulator aboard and that the targeted 

launch date was April 1 ,1961. But the MA-3 launch, still scheduled for a sub

381 
April 25, 1961, came, but the day's recorded results were far from heartening. The MA-3 launch vehicle failed to program over into the proper trajectory; after 40 seconds of flight straight upward the Air Force range safety officer destroyed the Atlas booster. So it was necessary on MA-4 to strive for the 

same one-orbit objective and to delay still further the nominal three-orbit Mercury mission. 

Meanwhile, for various reasons, production of the spacecraft and booster 

for MA-4 fell behind schedule. Atlas No. 88-D, allotted for MA-4, did not 

receive its factory rollout acceptance inspection until June 29-30, 1961, and it 

was July 15 before it was delivered to Cape Canaveral. And spacecraft No.9 

was not used, though originally planned. Instead No. 8 was fished from the 

Atlantic after its ill-fated flight in MA-3 and shipped back to McDonnell in 

St. Louis on April 27 for extensive overhauling. That meant cleaning, installing new insulation, replacing the external portion of the hydrogen peroxide 

control system, making spot-weld repairs in the large pressure bulkhead, and 

replacing the heatshield, antenna canister, escape tower, tower clamp ring, 

adapter, main clamp ring, and the inlet and outlet air snorkels. The overhauled 

spacecraft, redesignated 8-A, was returned to the Cape, but G. Merritt Preston's 

crew still had plenty of work. A leak had to be repaired in a reaction control 

system fuel tank; the environmental control system and the automatic stabilization and control system had to be reworked. A fairing to reduce launch vibration, like the one used on the Little Joe 5-B flight on April 28, 1961, and similar 

to that used on Virgil I. Grissom's suborbital mission in July, was added to the 

adapter clamp ring.2 • 

Because of all this modification and overhaul, it was August 3 before the 

spacecraft for MA-4 was delivered to the pad and mated with the booster, supposedly to be launched on August 22. The day before the scheduled flight the 

Air Force's Space Systems Division in California called Cape Canaveral and 

reported that solder balls had been found in some transistors of the same brand 

that had been installed in the MA-4 booster. Coordination of this information 

among the various Mercury-Atlas teams at the Cape brought to light the fact 

that these types of transistors also had been used in the spacecraft. There was 

nothing left to do but postpone the launch and give both vehicles a thorough 

going-over to replace the defective transistors. On August 25 the spacecraft 

was returned to Hangar S, when it became apparent that this work might encompass several days. After these labors in the hangar, spacecraft 8-A was 

mated with the booster again on September 1. This time the engineers conducting the prelaunch checkouts found nothing wrong. Although 8-A was a 

secondhand capsule, its landing bag had not been installed, it had ports instead 

382 
had been proceeding along the same tortuous route as the capsule toward fligh

qualification. By September, the Atlas had undergone so many changes tha

had to be integrated into launch vehicle No. SS-D, and experienced so many 

setbacks, that a successful orbital mission was necessary for the sake of NASA 

and national morale and to forestall any new attacks on the Atlas as the Mercury 

launch vehicle. The year in which the Soviets had orbited a man now was in 

its ninth month, yet the United States was still preparing to orbit a box full o

instruments. The Mercury-Atlas flight record had produced only one com

pletely successful launch-the MA-2 reentry heating test-out of four tries. 

This was scarcely an enviable record. Many hours, days, and months had 

been spent by special committees and working groups in ferreting out the source

of trouble. The STG, Space Technology Laboratories, Convair, and Air Force 

engineers who had reviewed the failure of MA-l had concluded that the for

ward end of the Atlas was not designed to withstand the flight dynamic loads 

fed through the adapter section, that the adapter was too flexible, and tha

stiffeners were needed. MA-2 had confirmed the controversial "fix" of the 

adapter section. MA-4 would be the second of the "thick-skin" Atlases. Review

ing the MA-3 abort, the engineers assumed that the programmer's failure to 

pitch the booster into a proper trajectory was due to a transient voltage. Also

some two years previously, another anomaly caused the Big Joe Atlas to fail to 

stage, and even in MA-2 there had been some propellant sloshing in the booster

To correct the programmer problem, Convair modified the autopilot controls 

to give the gimbaling engines of the Atlas a preventive counteraction capability

One objective of MA-4, therefore, was to assess this innovation. 4 In Septembe

the NASA-Air Force-contractor engineering team that had been beset with Atlas 

problems for two years felt that the ICBM-turned-space-Iauncher was ready to 

do its part in Project Mercury. In the words of Scott H. Simpkinson, STG's 

liaison man at the Convair factory, "MA-4 just had to work." 

Not only would a successful orbital mission on MA-4 provide the necessary 

data on the performance of systems and components, but the Mercury tracking 

network crews and Department of Defense recovery forces would receive valuable training for supporting a manned orbital circumnavigation by an American

Many components, elements, procedures, and flight maneuvers had to be 

watched and assessed before one of the "Mercury seven" could be committed 

to an orbital mission around Earth. 

Of the manifold segments of an orbital flight, reentry was perhaps the mos

critical. As it dropped back into the heavy atmosphere, the capsule would be 

subjected to searing temperatures of about 2000 to 3000 degrees F for six or seven 

minutes, or about eight times longer than on the previous Mercury suborbita

shots. Retrofire between Hawaii and Guaymas, Mexico, would bring about a 

383 
come when the spacecraft had descended to an altitude of 37 miles and was 

traveling at 15,000 miles per hour. Braking would be dramatic. Between 46 

and 12 miles high, traveling over a slant range of 460 miles, the capsule'S air speed 

would be reduced from about 17,000 to 1350 miles per hour. Aerodynamic 

stresses in this region would provide a severe test of the spacecraft's structural 

strength, particularly the heatshield and the afterbody shingles. 

Perhaps the second most critical segment of the orbital mission would come 

during the powered phase of the flight. The Space Task Group, supported by 

the DOD and industry, would also monitor carefully the vibration levels to ascertain 

if they would be tolerable for an astronaut. Even more important as the capsule 

was rocketed toward orbit was a reliable escape system, to wrench the capsule 

clear if the launch vehicle failed to perform. Also it was necessary to judge the 

ability of the Atlas to release the spacecraft, to evaluate the abort sensing and 

implementation system, to determine if the launch vehicle could withstand the 

aerodynamic loads of max q, and to demonstrate the capability of the Mercury 

network to perform its intended flight-control and data-collection functions. :; 

If all went well, MA-4 would provide data proving the validity of years of engineering calculations. 

MA-4 would be launched from complex 14 at the Cape on a true azimuth 

heading of 72.51 degrees east of north. Following engine ignition, after being 

held to the pad for three seconds to ensure smooth combustion, the 

Atlas booster engines would propel the spacecraft withiri two minutes to 

a speed of about 6500 miles per hour and an altitude of 35 miles over a 

downrange distance of 45 miles. The sustainer engine would continue to 

burn. A gradual pitch program would begin to tilt the Atlas toward the sea about 

20 seconds after liftoff. Seconds after booster engine cutoff (called "BECO" by 

the various Mercury-Atlas working teams at the Cape), or at about 41 miles' altitude and a slant range of 56 miles from the pad, the launch vehicle programmer 

would trigger a greater pitch-over maneuver to put the Mercury-Atlas combination 

on a course parallel to Earth's surface. At this time the escape tower would be 

jettisoned. After capsule separation, orbital insertion would occur about 498 miles 

downrange from the pad at an altitude of about 1 00 miles. The nominal inertial 

velocity at this point was supposed to be 25,695 feet per second, increased to 25,719 

feet per second by the ignition of the posigrade rockets, which separated the spacecraft from the booster. Within 50 seconds, the spacecraft should have drifted 

some 790 feet from the booster. The Atlas, rather than falling away, would trail 

the orbiting spacecraft around Earth at an altitude of about 100 miles, and should 

complete each circle about once every 90 minutes for an estimated three days.G 

Instrumentation affixed to the spacecraft would provide data from nearly 

384 
monitored closely by seven strategically placed sensors, mostly in the area where 

capsule and adapter joined. To determine what radiation dosages a pilot would 

encounter, four standard and two special film packs would be carried. The 

;standard packs were placed on the sides and at the top and bottom of the couch. 

Carrying a heavier emulsion, the two extra packs would measure the radiation 

spectrum-the range of all kinds of radiation to which the capsule would be 

exposed~as well as penetration levels. Flight data other than radiation would 

be transmitted by two separate telemetry links, each providing essentially the 

same information. 

The flight would be well covered photographically. Located on the left side 

of the capsule cabin was the instrument panel camera, which would start operating 

at liftoff, provide about 20,000 frames of panel information during the mission, 

and cease five seconds after impact. Placed near the right-side port, the Earthsky camera was loaded for about 600 frames of pictorial data, which would be 

exhausted somewhere over the Indian Ocean. A third camera, affixed to the 

periscope, was loaded with about 10,000 frames of film for the mission. This 

camera would provide especially useful information on the spacecraft's orbital 

attitude reference to Earth at points where landmarks were recognizable. 

Five recorders aboard the spacecraft would tape most of the mission data. 

Three were seven-track systems to record all telemetry outputs, vibration levels, 

noise, and shingle strain. The two others were single-track recorders, to be 

operated in tandem and used to check the reliability of the tracking network 

communications system. 7 

Plans for spacecraft operations after the powered phase were essentially the 

same as those for the suborbital flights, only on a much larger scale. Retrofire 

was scheduled at 1 hour, 29 minutes, and 4 seconds after launch, with the three 

rockets firing at five-second intervals in order: top-left, bottom, top-right. S 

Recovery plans for orbital missions were considerably more complicated than 

they had been for the suborbital flights, since many more contingency areas, 

including abort and overshoot, had to be considered. Besides the nominal landing area off the coast of Bermuda, five secondary landing areas were selected. 

Providing that the launch was nominal and proceeded according to the preflight 

calculated trajectory, the abort recovery areas were spaced as follows: Area A 

began about 13 miles from the launch pad and continued along the track for 2200 

miles. For the first 550 miles the coverage extended 30 miles to each side of the 

track. This area covered the first 72 seconds after launch, or through booster 

staging. The remainder of Area A, accounting for the period up to 298 seconds 

after launch, narrowed to about 15 miles on either side of the track. Areas B 

and C were small elliptical blips on the track, 4 and 8 degrees of longitude beyond 

A. These were designated for a possible abort at 298 or at 301 seconds, respec385 
The MA-4 capsule also was fitted with a number of aids to assist the DOD 

forces in their recovery task. Two one-pound sofar bombs, one set to eject upon 

main parachute deployment and the other set to detonate at 4000 feet of hydrostatic pressure if the spacecraft sank, were carried. A flashing light with a life 

of about 24 hours was set to activate upon impact. Fluorescein dye, ejected at 

touchdown, would be visible for about six hours. Navy recovery forces were asked 

to attempt the recovery of the drogue and main chutes and the spacecraft antenna 

canister. Balsa wood blocks and Styrofoam had been attached to these components 

for flotation. 10 

As the launch date of the Mercury-Atlas 4 combination neared, weather 

problems began to threaten this attempt to orbit a "mechanical astronaut." Not 

one but two hurricanes thrashed the Mercury tracking areas. "Carla" raked 

the Corpus Christi tracking station, while "Debbie" moved in a northerly direction 

on the day before the launch, menacing and causing the ships to get rather a 

"rough ride" in the prime recovery zone. The equipment at the Texas site withstood the storm without damage. The STG-Air Force-Navy recovery planners 

at the Cape felt that Weather Bureau support predictions had given them a 

sufficient margin of safety in the Atlantic to allow the mission to proceed.ll 

MERCURY ORBITS AT LAST 

On launch day, September 13, the cloud coverage was scattered; visibility was 

9 miles"; the wind velocity was about 11 miles per hour; and the temperature was 

78 degrees. Ninety minutes before launch time a half-hour hold was called to 

replace a broken screw in one of the afterbody shingles. The liquid oxygen was 

loaded by 8: 30 a.m., and 5 minutes later the operations crew determined that all 

systems were go. At 8: 57, however, the low-speed data timing was momentarily 

lost at the Bermuda tracking site, and the countdown was recycled to T minus 3 

minutes and 30 seconds. 

A little after 9: 04 a.m. on September 13, 1961, MA-4 was launched on its 

one-orbit mission. During the first 20 seconds from liftoff, fairly severe booster 

vibrations were detected by the flight dynamics officer in the Control Center. 

The "thick-skin" Atlas passed its max-q test. At the 52-second point, a spacecraft inverter that was converting electrical power from direct to alternating current failed, but the standby inverter switched on automatically. Guidance data 

soon disclosed that the trajectory was .75-degree high; later, at engine cutoff, it 

was . 14-degree low. Although booster engine cutoff occurred 2.5 seconds early, 

booster velocity was about 100 feet per second too high. Then the sustainer 

engine cut off 10 seconds early, so the desired velocity was essentially achieved. 

386 
pp, ppg, ppy ,

feet per second; g loads during the powered phase reached a peak of 7.6.12 

Despite a slight disturbance in the roll, pitch, and yaw of the booster, separation 

occurred properly, and after a 5-second steadying or damping period the capsule 

began its turnaround maneuver. Soon, however, large attitude excursions were 

observed, and the spacecraft took 50 seconds to reverse its ends to heatshield 

forward, as opposed to a normal 20 seconds, using 9.5 pounds of hydrogen 

peroxide attitude control fuel against the 2.2 pounds supposedly required. Even 

with the abnormal turnaround, the spacecraft attitude gyros and scanners soon 

transmitted nominal readings, and there seemed no doubt that the mission would 

proceed to its orbital conclusion. The cause of these undue excursions later was 

found to be an open electrical connection in the pitch-rate gyro. 13 

A high oxygen usage rate like that on Grissom's suborbital mission cropped 

up early and continued throughout the flight. At the 27,000-foot point the 

system sealed off at 5.5 pounds per square inch; then an abrupt drop was indicated in the primary oxygen supply and a concurrent rise in cabin and suit 

pressure values to 6 pounds per square inch. "Primary oxygen going down fast," 

Paul E. Purser jotted in his notes as he listened to the communications circuit. 

"Zanzibar reported 30 percent of primary oxygen left," he later added. Toward 

the end of the mission, with the primary supply depleted, the system switched 

over to secondary. Usage from this source was so slight, however, that Walter 

Williams~ commenting on the high usage problem in a press conference following 

the mission, said that the secondary supply was virtually unt::mched. Throughout 

the flight the crewman simulator continued to use oxygen to produce moisture 

and carbon dioxide, and to monitor the operations while recording heat and suit 

pressure changes. 14 

Despite the abnormalities with the oxygen supply, once the automated Mercury spacecraft was on its orbital course, the computers indicated that the mission 

could go for more than seven orbits. In general, the control systems operated 

well, although on three occasions the spacecraft dropped out of its 34-degree, 

Earth-reference mode, once just before the ignition of the retrorockets and twice 

just before the .05-g light telemetry signal. These attitude variations came from 

the failure of a one-pound yaw-positive thruster and a one-pound roll-negative 

thruster. 

Communications between the capsule and the tracking stations were good, 

especially on high frequencies, which on the earlier suborbital flights had been 

virtually unsuccessfuL In some cases radar tracking was not good, largely because 

a few of the operators lacked experience. Telemetry reception was excellent, 

with some 137 observations received by the various tracking stations during the 

flight. 15 

387 
MA-4 


Sept. 13, 1961 


Flight monitors in the blockh

left to right~ Ralph B. Gen

of McDonnell~ and Dona

Arabian and Walter J. Kap

of NASA~s Space Task G

1 nspecting the heatshield 

the flight: kneeling~ left to 

William C. Hayes~ of 

John F. Yardley~ of Mc

nell; and Charles W. Math

Samuel T. Beddingfield

Merritt Preston~ all of 
g

p, y 

that MA-4 was in the proper reentry attitude. Over the Atlantic the drogue 

parachute opened at 41,750 feet, and the main chute deployed at 10,050 feet. 

At 10: 55 a.m. the capsule splashed down 176 miles east of Bermuda. After an 

hour and 22 minutes, the destroyer Decatur, which had been about 34 miles from 

the impact point, pulled alongside the spacecraft and hoisted it aboard. From 

there the capsule and its robot "astronaut" rode to Bermuda, whence they were 

airlifted to the Cape for an exhaustive examination. 1G 

The cause of the oxygen supply malfunction was immediately attacked by 

the STG and McDonnell engineers. Onboard film, they found, disclosed that 

the oxygen supply emergency light had blinked on, which would have signaled 

an astronaut to take corrective action. The inspectors also learned that vibration 

had dislodged the rate handle from its detent, allowing a valve to crack open. 

But the flow rate had not been sufficient to trip the microswitch that would have 

given the Mercury Control Center a telemetry indication of an emergency rate 

actuation while the mission was in progress. Normally a force of from three to 

eight pounds was needed to break the handle free from the detent, whereas in 

this case the inspectors moved the handle with very little force. A new emergency 

rate handle with a positive latching mechanism was to be devised for later 

missions. 17 

Other postflight analyses by the engineers found the MA-4 spacecraft and 

its systems in good condition. There was no afterbody shingle buckling or warping, and the structural materials were only mildly discolored. The horizon 

scanner window was partially coated with a film of oxidized material caused by 

aerodynamic heating. Some internal debris, including solder balls and washers, 

had apparently escaped preflight tumbling and vacuum cleaning. Six buckled 

skin panels between the base ring and the lower pressure bulkhead indicated that 

the capsule landed with the heatshield edge striking the water first. Still the inspectors concluded that the structural damage was not enough to have endangered 

an astronaut. The center section of the heatshield was partially delaminated and 

the center plug was loose, conditions apparently caused by water impact and 

cooling. Two cracks were found on the shield in the vicinity of the water-impact 

point. The depth of the char on the ablation shield was very shallow. 18 

NASA officials showed their pleasure at the success of MA-4 at the press 

conference held at the Cape immediately after the flight. Gilruth pointed out 

that this had been the hardest test flight in the whole NASA program. He added 

that the Atlas had demonstrated that it was capable of boosting a man into orbit, 

as he, Maxime A. Faget, Purser, and others from NACA-Langley days had long 

believed. Without hesitation Gilruth concluded that a man would have survived 

the flight. 

389 
Above, architect's conception of the new NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, Houston

Texas, as of early 1962. Right, the Center under construction as of the end of Proj

ect Mercury, May 1963. The structure in the center is the administration building

At that point a reporter asked whether a man would fly the next Mercury 

orbital mission. Walter Williams answered that a three-orbit circuit, eithe

unmanned or carrying a chimpanzee, was still necessary. Then why was the 

upcoming Mercury-Scout mission necessary, asked a newsman. Again William

affirmed his confidence in the wisdom of the agreed-upon schedule of flights.l~ 

SPACE TASK GROUP GETS A NEW HOME AND NAME 

Between flight planning and scheduling launches in August 1961, a NASA 

site survey team headed by John F. Parsons, Associate Director of Ames Research 

Center, had inspected a number of sites competing for the permanent location 

of a center for manned space flight projects. The new center had been approved 

in principle by President Kennedy in accordance with his strategic decision, en

dorsed by the Congress, to accelerate the space program. The team appraised the 

sites on 10 points, briefly stated as follows: availability of educational institution

and other facilities for advanced scientific study, electric power and other utilities

water supply, climate, housing, acreage, proximity to varied industrial enterprises

water transportation, air transportation, and local cultural and recreational resources. On September 19, 1961, NASA Administrator James E. Webb announced that the new Manned Spacecraft Center (MSC) would be established 

on a 1000-acre tract to be transferred to the Government by Rice University, near 

Houston. The site was in Harris County, Texas, on the edge of Clear Lake, an 

inlet of Galveston Bay on the Gulf of Mexico. 20 

Webb maintained that selection of the Houston site had been influenced by 

390 
recent decisions to expand the launch complex at the Atlantic Missile Range and 

to establish a fabrication facility for large booster and space vehicle stages at the 

Michoud Plant, near New Orleans, where torpedo boats had been manufactured 

during World War II. The Manned Spacecraft Center, the Michoud Operations, and the Cape Canaveral complex would become a vast integrated enterprise coordinating the development, manufacture, and operation of the manned 

space flight program. 

Not unexpectedly, there was some criticism of the Texas site chosen for the 

new development center. Charges of inordinate political iI1fluence involved the 

names of Vice-President Johnson, a Texan and chairman of the National Aeronautics and Space Council, and Democratic Representative Albert Thomas of 

Houston, Chairman of the House of Representatives Independent Offices Subcommittee of the Appropriations Committee. NASA spokesmen categorically 

denied that there had been any improper influence. Particularly crestfallen were 

the citizens of the Virginia peninsula, who realized they were losing some of the 

activities at the Langley Research Center and the V;,jallops Station. All through 

August, September, and October, the dailies of Newport News echoed this disappointment. To Houston, of course, this was "wonderful news," as the Chamber of Commerce proclaimed, and local business leaders dispatched representatives 

to brief the transferring NASA employees in Virginia on the advantages of the 

Texas coast.2 1 

Less than a month after Webb's announcement, a Houston journalist went 

on an inspection tour of the site planned for the spacecraft center. He found 

cowboys driving herds of cattle to new pasture, a crew of surveyors from the 

Army Corps of Engineers mapping the prairie near Clear Lake and fighting 

snakes, and a lone wolf hunter with the carcass of a freshly slain wolf. The 

hunter said he had just seen several wild turkeys, a fox, and many deer tracks. 2 2 

391 
small cadre of center operations, procurement, and personnel employees opene

offices in Houston's Gulfgate Shopping City. By mid-1962, when the move wa

completed, activities were scattered in 11 locations, occupying 295,996 squar

feet of leased office and laboratory space in the vicinity of Telephone Road an

the Gulf Freeway. For both old and new employees, a street map was a necessit

in the coordination of information among the various offices located in the dis

persed buildings. Besides the leased quarters, NASA personnel liberally use

surplus facilities available at nearby Ellington Air Force Base.23 

By early October 1961, the Space Task Group had established an informatio

relocation center in its Public Affairs Office to help personnel facing the move

Inquiries from the employees about schools and housing were numerous. Shortl

thereafter, members of the Space Task Group received procedure directions fo

permanent change of duty station and then were advised on November 1, 1961

that "the Space Task Group is officially redesignated the Manned Spacecra

Center." The center was now a de facto' NASA unit, a nerve center of th

accelerated manned space flight program. It was several months, however

before the administration of projects was subdivided for management of th

three major programs-Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo. NASA outlined it

building requirements for the center on October 13, 1961, at which time tw

plans were under consideration, one with 13 major buildings and the other wit

14, to accommodate 3151 people. The estimated cost was $60 million for th

first year's construction. 24 

WIRES GET CROSSED: MERCURy-SCOUT I 

Despite the flurry of activity at Hampton, Virginia, Houston, and elsewhere

generated by the impending move, STG did not pause in its scheduled Mercur

flight test program. Plans had been in progress for several months and by th

summer of 1961 were well developed for Mercury-Scout, whose flight was t

provide a dynamic checkout of the Mercury tracking network. 

Early in May, Purser and Williams of STG, Charles J. Donlan, who ha

returned to the Langley Research Center rolls in April, and Warren J. North o

NASA Headquarters had met to discuss how the Mercury tracking network

completed at the end of March, could be exercised and evaluated. They agree

that the four-stage, solid-propellant Scout, originally designed at Langley an

popularly called the "poor man's rocket," could perform this task economically

North briefed Abe Silverstein, NASA Director of Space Flight Programs, whe

he returned to Washington from Langley. In the meantime, William E. Stone

of STG had inquired of the Air Force, which also used the Scout, about th

392 
, 

y p

a Scout shot. Purser, relaying this information on to Gilruth, remarked that 

"you or Williams will have to talk to him [Silverstein] about it." MercuryScout mission planning, meanwhile, was already in progress, and Marion R. 

Franklin of STG was temporarily appointed as project engineer. This responsibility took on the aspects of a revolving door, with the assignment being shuffled 

among several Task Group engineers. James T. Rose was named to head the 

project a few days later; then Rose and Lewis R. Fisher had co-responsibility, 

until Rose was relieved to continue his work with James A. Chamberlin on what 

became the Gemini two-man spacecraft project proposals. 23 

Although Silverstein at Headquarters opposed such a test, those on the operations end of Mercury felt that a flight to train the operators and check the 

tracking stations was a necessity. On May 15, 1961, personnel of NASA Headquarters and several of its cognizant. centers, including Harry J. Goett of Goddard, 

Williams and Purser of Space Task Group, Low from NASA Headquarters, and 

Thomas A. Harris, G. Barry Graves, and Paul Vavra from Langley, met to 

review the proposed Scout launch in view of Silverstein's reluctance. They still 

concluded that the Scout was the best booster for network checkout purposes. 

The problem was how to sell the idea to Silverstein. 

Low and Graves saw Silverstein the next day. They told him that only a 

one-orbit flight, possibly carrying a chimpanzee, was scheduled for the next six 

months; moreover, the Air Force had a spare research and development Blue 

Scout booster. This readiness gave promise of a reasonably early launch date, 

which was necessary if the communications exercise were to be worthwhile. 

Silverstein tentatively acquiesced, but he demanded assurance that all the design 

problems, including payload and antennas, would be resolved before he gave 

final Headquarters approval. After that approval, he added, all effort should be 

made to meet an August 15, 1961, firing date. 2G This stipulation apparently 

was made so that the flight would precede the scheduled August 22 launch date 

of the MA-4 one-orbit flight. 

With Silverstein's reluctant blessing, the planners wasted no time in getting 

the Scout enterprise rolling. At a meeting at Langley on May 17, attended by 

Williams, Purser, Merritt Preston, Franklin, and Chamberlin of STG; North of 

NASA Headquarters; and Graves, Virgil F. Gardner, and Elmer J. Wolff of 

Langley, responsibilities were assigned and some general requirements were outlined. As noted, Rose and Fisher were named project engineers. Rose was in 

Los Angeles discussing boosters for the two-man project at the time. He received 

a call from Chamberlin requesting him to go to Aeronutronic in Newport Beach, 

California, to talk about instrumentation for the payload. He was joined there 

by Earl Patton, communications expert from McDonnell Aircraft Corporation. 

393 
Mercury instrumentation was to include C- and S-band beacons, telemetr

carriers, and either a command channel on the minitrack or a receiver operate

by a command transmitter. Graves also planned to arrange with Goddard fo

minitrack drawings, and Chamberlin volunteered to contact McDonnell for th

Mercury instrumentation drawings and hardware components. Some though

was briefly given to the possibility of using the Langley Research Center to in

strument the payload; otherwise the Ford Motor Company's Aeronutroni

-·Division, Air Force contractor for the Scout, probably would provide th

instrumentation.27 

On May 23, North in Washington telephoned Purser at Langley and reporte

that Silverstein "had bought the Scout." There was a qualification, however: plan

ning could proceed, but money was not to be committed until Robert C. Seamans

Jr., NASA's "general manager," approved. Silverstein immediately sought Sea

mans' concurrence, offering the inducement that only the payload would requir

NASA funding ($130,000) ; the Air Force, using the operation to provide expe

rience for its launch crews, would bear the cost of the launch vehicle and launch

Silverstein argued to Seamans that delays in the Mercury-Atlas program, with 

reduction of the flights to be conducted before a manned orbital mission, mad

using the Scout to check out the network seem sensible. The proposed payload

he said, would be prepared by Ford Aeronutronic, using components from 

Mercury capsule No. 14, which had already flown in the Little Joe 5-B t~t o

April 28, 1961. The STG planners estimated that the earliest possible launc

date was sometime in July, but Silverstein told Seamans that an August dat

seemed more realistic. Seamans agreed and returned the formal STG reques

on May 26, stamped "approved." 28 

Now that the blessing was official, the Space Task Group made a sustaine

effort to launch in July. In June STG engineers considered the components tha

were to make up the ISO-pound payload. Since Associate Administrator Seaman

at NASA Headquarters had suggested in his approval document that a backu

launch vehicle be obtained, STG secured the Air Force SSD's commitment t

supply a second four-stage Scout. Seamans' suggestion proved to be prophetic

although no second Mercury-Scout mission was ever launched, the backup fourt

stage had to be used in the first attempt. 29 

By early July, the trajectory data and mission directive for Mercury-Scou

were completed. MS-1 would be launched at the Cape from complex No. 18-B

formerly the Project Vanguard launching site, on a true azimuth heading o

72.2 degrees east of north, aiming at an apogee of about 400 miles and a perige

of about 232 miles. Orbital insertion of the payload was to occur some 110

miles from the Cape, at a speed of 25,458 feet per second and an altitude o

394 
fourthstage instrumentation package. The payload equipment was to function 

for 18Y2 hours in orbit. To conserve electrical power while in flight, the equipment would be turned off by a ground command after the first three orbits. During 

shutdown, the results would be analyzed, and the equipment would then be 

activated to make another three-orbit data collection. The planners felt that by 

repeating the shutdown and reactivation operation they could obtain data equivalent to three full missions, gather a wealth of information for comparison, and 

give the DOD and NASA trackers a good workout. 30 

The launch vehicle for the mission was a 70-foot, solid-propellant Scout 

rocket weighing 36,863 pounds at liftoff. The booster had four stages. Starting 

from the bottom, these included an Aerojet Algol engine with a steel case and 

steel nozzle, burning polyurethane fuel and guided by hydraulic exhaust vanes; 

a Thiokol Castor motor, also with steel case and nozzle, burning a polybutadieneacrylic acid propellant, with a precision autopilot employing hydrogen peroxide 

reaction motors; an Allegheny Ballistic Laboratories Antares motor encased in 

filament-wound fiber impregnated with epoxy resin, propelled by nitrocellulose 

nitroglycerin, and guided by an autopilot identical to that in the Castor; and 

an Allegheny Altair engine of the same construction as stage 3, using the same 

propellant, but with a spin-stabilizing control mechanism. 3 ! 

The Scout was erected on the pad on July 25 to await mating with the payload. Ford Aeronutronic had completed what turned out to be the initial 

packaging and had shipped the payload to the Cape on July 3. There the equipment underwent spin-ballast and operational checks and was mated with the 

booster. But trouble with faulty solid-state telemetry transmitters, developing 

during the pad checkout, caused such a delay that a July launching became 

impossible. At about that same time NASA Headquarters decided that the 

payload had not had sufficient vibration testing, so it was shipped to Aeronutronic 

at Newport Beach, California, for testing and repackaging. After it returned to 

the Cape, malfunctions appeared in the Scout's fourth stage, and the Cape engineers had to lift the fourth stage from the backup vehicle. The question in August 

was which would be ready first, the launch vehicle or the payload. Then on 

September 13, MA-4, carrying its mechanical astronaut, essentially preempted 

the Mercury-Scout by its orbital trek around Earth. The Scout payload reached 

the Cape on September 20, but all four Scout stages did not return to the pad 

until October 22. The anticlimactic Scout launch was supposed to take place 

on the 31 st. 32 

On Halloween, 1961, a launch crew under the technical supervision of the 

Air Force launch director (who, in turn, was responsible to the NASA operations 

director) attempted the Mercury-Scout launch. The countdown proceeded well 

down to the moment of ignition-when nothing whatever happened. The 

395 

y gg

, 

was later determined, resulted simply from a personal error by a technician who 

had transposed the connectors between the pitch and yaw rate gyros, so that 

yaw rate error signals were transmitted to pitch control, and vice versa. 33 Six 

months of plans and labors had disintegrated in less than a minute. 

Ambitions for a second Mercury-Scout, such as had been advocated earlier 

by Seamans, collided with the reality that another Scout rocket would not be 

ready before a Mercury-Atlas launch afforded a satisfactory and complete groundtracking network checkout. The first stage of the backup Scout rocket failed 

its inspection tests, while the fourth stage had been used on the ill-fated MercuryScout 1 mission. Besides, Mercury-Atlas 5 was scheduled to go in mid-November, 

and the first manned orbital mission was set for December 19. Consequently, Low 

recommended the cancellation of the Mercury-Scout program to D. Brainerd 

Holmes, who had taken on manned space flight duties in NASA Headquarters. 34 

So the Scout had a short but chaotic life as a member of the Mercury family of 

launch vehicles. 

MAN OR CHIMPANZEE FOR MA-5? 

From its unseemly beginning embodied in the Mercury-Scout failure on the 

first day of its formal existence, the newly titled Manned Spacecraft Center would 

go on in November to direct and record a resounding success, Mercury-Atlas 5. 

A curious atmosphere surrounded the approaching animal orbital mission, a sense 

of impatience, as though the Nation wanted to see it done quickly so the program 

could hurry forward to a manned orbital shot. The press clearly deplored any 

slip in MA-5 that would delay the manned flight. Putting an American into 

orbit before the end of 1961 was popularly regarded as something sorely needed 

for national prestige. NASA officials obviously were influenced by these pressures, 

and rank-and-filers in the space program were like members of a football team 

committed to a warmup game before a conference classic.35 

Some NASA leaders flatly opposed the chimpanzee flight. Administrator 

Webb's office questioned MSC on the need for another unmanned Mercury 

mission in view of the successful orbital flights of Cosmonauts Gagarin and Titov. 

A Washington newsman suggested that the President's advisers feared another 

American animal flight would only invite Soviet ridicule. Paul P. Haney, a publicaffairs spokesman at NASA Headquarters, finally cleared the air when he announced to the public, "The men in charge of Project Mercury have insisted on 

orbiting the chimpanzee as a necessary preliminary checkout of the entire Mercury 

program before risking a human astronaut." 36 

Other space-related events soon distracted public attention from the impend397 
might be selected for launching the lunar mission spacecraft.37 In Houston

the Manned Spacecraft Center, site for the direction of manned space project

of the future, captured the imagination of local' citizens. A space-age tradi

tion was born when H. T. Christman, a procurement officer, became the firs

member of the organization to buy a home in the Houston area, which was locate

in the Timber Cove residential development that was to become the neighbor

hood of several Mercury astronauts, near the site of the to-be-constructed Space

craft Center. 

Preparation for MA-5, initiated many months previously, continued withou

much fanfare. As early as January 1961, notes on the status of hardware fo

this mission had begun to appear in STG's quarterly progress reports to NASA 

Headquarters. Both booster and spacecraft then were being manufacture

and tested. On February 24, spacecraft No.9 had arrived at the Cape to begi

a 40-week preflight preparation. This lengthy period, longest in the Mercur

project, derived from the various flight program changes that required corre

sponding configuration changes. No. 9 had been configured initially for 

ballistic instrumented flight, then for a ballistic primate flight, next for a three

orbit instrumented mission, and finally for a three-orbit chimpanzee flight. 3

Another factor contributing to the long preparatory period was that th

data obtained from the MA-4 mission demanded a number of modifications

For the environmental control system, a locking device was added to the oxy

gen emergency rate handle, while the inverters, one of which had failed durin

MA-4, were put through a severe vibration-test program. Since some unbond

ing had occurred on the heatshield of the MA-4 spacecraft, x-rays twice wer

made of the ablative layer to detennine the soundness of the glue line. Fo

the explosive side egress hatch, as yet untried on an orbital mission, thermo

couples were added and a limit switch was installed to signal any prematur

hatch firing, an experience that cost the loss of a flight-tested spacecraft in MR-4

And the horizon scanner sensor system was modified to avoid the erroneou

signals transmitted during the orbit of the "mechanical man." 3D 

Thus the spacecraft mounted on At!as No. 93-D for MA-5 differed con

siderably from that used on the September orbital flight. This was anothe

reason Haney had said that "the men in charge of Project Mercury" wante

another qualifying round before a manned mission. Besides modification

already described, No.9 had a landing bag installed and a large viewing window

Although the window had been used on MR-4 and had proved useful to Astro

naut Grissom, it had not been subjected to the much greater reentry heat th

}vIA-5 capsule would encounter. Aside from these new components, No. 

had about the same equipment as carried in MA-4-tape recorders for gather

398 
He had his own metalplastic pressure couch, which was connected to the suit 

circuit of the environmental control system.40 

The spacecraft operated in a fashion similar to the first orbital Mercury 

vehicle. Once again, as during MA-4, the hydrogen peroxide fuel supplies for 

the automatic and manual control systems were linked to provide a common 

reservoir. The automatic stabilization and control and rate stabilization control systems would be operated separately, so that the performance of each could 

be evaluated. The automatic system was programmed to exercise capsule attitude control until one minute after the .05-g light signal; then the rate system 

would take over for reentry, providing a constant-roll rate of about 7.5 degrees 

per second as well as damping motions in the yaw and pitch axes. The rate 

system would switch off at main parachute deployment.41 

Recovery aids and operations, too, were about the same as for MA-4, including radar chaff, sofar bombs, a flashing light, and dye marker. The probable 

launch abort recovery areas were spaced and designated as before, although 

there were more contingency recovery areas bec~t.ise the mission was longer. 

For each of the three planned orbits about five contingency locations were 

selected. During the second orbit, for example, the emergency landing areas 

included the Atlantic Ocean near the west coast of Africa, the Indian Ocean 

near the east coast of Africa, the Indian Ocean near the west coast of Australia, 

and the Pacific Ocean either 440 miles southeast of Hawaii or 165 miles southwest of San Diego. The primary recovery zone shifted following the completion of each full orbit.4~ 

Space Task Group officials expected delivery of the MA-S launch vehicle, 

Atlas No. 93-D, about mid-August 1961, but it was decided by STG and the 

Air Force to delay shipment until the flight of MA-4. Then, when faulty 

transistors had delayed the MA-4 launch, intensive quality assurance inspections of the transistors had to be initiated. The electronic gear of the rocket was 

also modified, its 100-watt telemetry system was replaced by a 3-watt transistorized unit, and the autopilot circuitry was altered to alleviate the high vibrations 

experienced during the first orbital Mercury flight. These changes dragged 

the delivery date back to October 9, 1961. In Washington, George Low warned 

Seamans that the time needed to secure several components necessary for these 

modifications might affect the delivery date of Atlas No. 109-D, the booster 

scheduled to launch the first astronaut into orbit. No. 93-D was the third 

"thick skin" Atlas booster, employing a heavier gauge of metal in its forward 

tank.43 

According to plans, which now were to approximate those for the manned 

orbital mission as nearly as possible, MA-5 would rise from complex 14 at Cape 

Canaveral on a heading 72.51 degrees east of north. Orbital insertion of the 

399 
the water in the Atlantic. Estimated temperatures during reentry should be 

about 3000 degrees F on the heatshield, 2000 degrees on the antenna housing

1080 degrees on the cylindrical section, and 1260 degrees on the conical section

The STG operation planners estimated that the spent Atlas sustainer engine 

would reenter the atmosphere after 9Y3 orbits, a considerable change from thei

estimates for the descent of the MA-4 rocket. 44 

TRAINING PRIMATES AND MEN 

For the all-important task of checking out the environmental control system 

on a long-duration flight, a chimpanzee was chosen to "stand in" for man. A

in the preparation for Ham's suborbital mission on MR-2, two colonies of chimp

traveled to the Cape about three weeks before the flight date. Again the mili

tary handlers from Holloman Air Force Base separated the colonies to preven

cross-infection. Training involved restraining the animals in a pressurized fligh

couch, with biosensors attached to their bodies at various points. And psycho

motor training that had been started in New Mexico was continued at the Cap

so that the animals' proficiency would not deteriorate.45 

On October 29, 1961, three chimps and 12 medical specialists moved into 

their Cape quarters to join two other simians and eight persons already in fligh

preparation status. The name given to "Enos," the animal selected as the fligh

test subject, in Greek or Hebrew means "man," and the training and fligh

performance recorded by this chimpanzee proved the sobriquet to be well chosen

Captain Jerry Fineg, chief veterinarian for the mission, described Enos as "quit

a cool guy and not the performing type at all." This "immigrant" from th

French Cameroons had none of the tendencies of his circus-trained counterparts

Enos' backup "pilots," listed in order of their flight readiness ability, wer

"Duane," named for Duane Mitch, a veterinarian; "Jim," named for Majo

J ames Cook, of the same profession; "Rocky," named for a well-known pugilis

(Graziano) because of his cauliflowered ear and pugnacious spirit; and "Ham,

the astrochimp veteran. The ratings were made by Fineg and another Ai

Force officer Marvin Grunzke. Fineg later learned that when these same chimp

had gone through their earlier launch and reentry training on the centrifuge a

the University of Southern California, they had been rated in the same order.4

The psychomotor equipment used by Enos on the MA-5 mission was mor

complicated than that operated by Ham during the Mercury-Redstone 2 sub

orbital flight. Housed in the cover of his pressurized couch, Enos' package wa

rigged to present a four-problem cycle. The first would last for about 12 minutes

and the second followed six minutes of rest. The routine would proceed until th

400 
The second problem planned was a delayed-response experiment. Twenty seconds after a green light would appear on the panel, Enos would have to press a 

lever to receive a drink of water. Although there would be no penalty for his 

failure to respond, if the chimpanzee should pull the lever too early the problem 

would simply recycle and he would receive nothing. The third, a fixed-ratio 

problem, would involve pulling a lever exactly 50 times to receive a banana pellet. 

This would also be voluntary and without penalty. Chimpanzee intelligence 

would be tested in the fourth. Three symbols-circles, triangles, and squareswould appear in various two-of-a-kind combinations, with the task being to pull 

a lever under the odd symbol to avoid a mild shock. Lack of response during 

rest periods would give the indication that the animal was well oriented to his 

spacecraft environment. 17 

Planning for this second trial of the Mercury worldwide tracking network 

was elaborate. Supporting the MA-5 mission were 18 stations, plus the Goddard 

Space Flight Center and the Mercury Control Center. Goddard and the Control 

Center furnished computer support and management of the overall operation, 

respectively. 

Station Type 

Mercury Control CenteL _____________________ Launch 

Cape Canaveral (AMR) _____________________ Launch 

Grand Bahama Island (AMR) _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ Downrange tracking 

Grand Turk________________________________ Downrange tracking 

Bermuda__ _____ ____________ _ _______ ________ Computer 

Atlantic Ocean Ship _________________________ Remote tracking 

Canary Islands- ____ _______ ___ _ _ __ ____ __ _____ Remote tracking 

Kano, Nigeria ______________________________ Remote tracking 

Zanzibar, Africa____________________________ Remote tracking 

Indian Ocean Ship __________________________ Remo'te tracking 

Muchea, Australia__________________________ Command 

Woomera, Australia _________________________ Remote tracking 

Canton Island _____________ ----_____________ Remote tracking 

Kauai, Hawaii ______________________________ Command 

Point Arguello, California ____________________ Command 

Guaymas, Mexico ___________________________ Command 

White Sands, New Mexico ____________________ Remote tracking 

Corpus Christi, Texas- _______________________ Remote tracking 

Eglin Air Force Base, Florida __________________ Remote tracking 

Goddard Space Flight Center, Maryland ________ Computing and 

communications 

With the exception of White Sands, all stations would receive "real time" telemetry 

data, consisting of magnetic tape recordings, Sanborn recorder displays, meter 

displays, and clock displays. The overall operation of this network was a vast 

cooperative undertaking of the Department of Defense, NASA, and industry.48 

401 
Enos in his couch Enos returns to the Cape 

prior to launch. following his space flight. 

Seventy-three key people assigned to the various stations received their final 

mission briefing on October 23. Once again the tracking teams included several 

Mercury astronauts. Shepard was assigned to Bermuda, Schirra to Australia, 

Slayton to Guaymas, and Cooper to Point Arguello, while at the Cape, Carpenter 

had a station in the blockhouse, Grissom was the capsule communicator in the 

Mercury Control Center, and Glenn served as backup capsule communicator in 

the center. 4D 

CHIMPANZEE INTO ORBIT 

By mid-October, reported George Low to NASA Headquarters, problems 

with capsule No.9 and booster No. 93-D had forced STG to delay the launch 

from November 7 to November 14. On November 11, however, after the 

preflight checkout crew found a hydrogen peroxide leak in the fuel line of the 

capsule manual control system, the earliest possible launch date slipped to 

November 29."0 Although NASA did not comment officially on the effect of 

the delay, chances for a manned orbital mission in 1961 now were dim.51 

On November 28, 1961, an 11 Y2-hour launch preparation count began for 

MA-S. The count stopped at T minus 390 minutes, to be resumed the next day. 

Some 11 hours before the launch, Enos, the 39-pound chimpanzee, underwent 

his final physical examination, stood still as his medical sensors were taped on, 

allowed himself to be secured in the specially constructed primate couch, and 

rode in the transfer van to the gantry. About S hours before launch the couch 

402 
degrees, nonnal for the suit inlet temperature of about 65 degrees; his respiration 

averaged 14; and his pulse rate was 94. The only time Enos displayed agitation 

was when he was roused by the opening of the hatch during a countdown hold 

caused by a telemetry link faiiure at T minus 30 minutes. The gantry was hauled 

back to the spacecraft, the hatch was opened, and an off-and-on switch was 

correctly positioned. This hold lasted 85 minutes. Some members in the control 

center joked that Enos had turned the switch off because he had talked to Ham 

and did not want to gO.5:! 

In the Mercury Control Center the flight control monitors had manned their 

stations and were busily checking out their consoles. Tecwyn Roberts, serving 

as flight dynamics officer, noted the intermittent problems cropping up in the 

data-gathering and translating computers. A faulty transistor in the direct data 

receiver caused one hold, and when the replacement was also faulty, several more 

minutes were lost in repairing the computer. Nlorton SchIer, the capsule environment monitor, reported that the environmental control system was working 

smoothly. The Freon flow rate, he reported, leveled at a comfortable 20 pounds 

per hour in the prelaunch period. From the oxygen partial-pressure transducer 

some erratic readings proved erroneous; Mercury Control teletyped the tracking 

stations to discount these readings as the spacecraft passed over. 53 

Holds during the countdown amounted to almost 2 hours and 38 minutes. 

Shortly after the hatch was bolted at T minus 90 minutes, the technicians discovered that they had failed to install some hatch cover heat insulation material. 

They took a little more than an hour to correct this oversight. Then, at T minus 

30 minutes, the discovery of an improperly positioned switch necessitated the 

85-minute hatch-opening hold. And finally, at T minus 15 minutes, a 4-minute 

hold was called to correct a data-link problem between Mercury Control and the 

General Electric ground command guidance equipment. 

Walter Williams, the mission director, Jistened as the various difficulties arose 

and became somewhat agitated at the chain of events. Although his usual position 

during such times was at a console in the mission control center, he left the building 

and quickly drove the distance to pad 14 to personally express his expectations 

that things would proceed in a more orderly manner. As a member of Convair 

later said, "Williams was a master in imparting a need for orderly urgency." 

Despite these holds, weather conditions remained favorable. Only a few thin 

cirrus clouds hung in the sky, visibility was 10 miles, and the surface wind velocity 

was at a moderate 11 miles per hour from the northwest. In the landing area 

the weather was even better. 54 

The Goddard computers received the liftoff signal 13 seconds before the 

booster actually rose from the pad, an error apparently caused by feedback between 

two recorders. Nor was this the last incorrect signal. The Goddard computers 

403 
there were minor discrepancies. Between liftoff and staging, the horizon-scanner 

signal was lost briefly. All spacecraft systems nevertheless appeared to be working normally, with the guidance system of the Atlas keeping the booster on an 

almost perfect insertion trajectory. Guidance system noise was only about half 

that recorded during MA-4, and vehicular vibration also was much lower. Fou

and a half minutes after launch, Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., unhesitatingly made 

the go-for-orbit decision. At sustainer engine cutoff, the velocity, flight angle, and 

altitude were nearly perfect. The Atlas hurled the spacecraft into an orbit with 

a perigee of about 99 miles and an apogee of 147 miles, .5 and 5.4 miles low

respectively.5G 

Spacecraft and booster separation occurred precisely as planned, while the 

turnaround maneuver took less than 30 seconds. The capsule's position excursions were very slight, which contrasted sharply with the erratic turnaround of 

MA-4. The spacecraft quickly dropped into its 34-degree orbit mode and began 

streaking over the oceans and continents. Of the 61.5 pounds of control fue

aboard, turnaround and damping had consumed 6 pounds, as opposed to 9.5 

for MA-4. From that point and on through the first orbit the thrusters used 

only 1.5 pounds to maintain a correct position, with the automatic stabilization 

and control system functioning perfectly. 

The environmental control system and the tracking and communications 

network performed in a satisfactory fashion. On this mission, for the first time

the primary and secondary oxygen bottles were pressurized at 7500 pounds per 

square inch (the design specification) rather than at 3000, as on previous flights

A functioning water separator also was used for the first time. Each tracking 

station's range on the ultra-high-frequency band lasted for about six minutes; on 

high frequency, overlap communications between stations were similar to tha

experienced during MA- 4. The Goddard computers received valid telemetry data 

from all stations except Woomera, but there were instances when communications were momentarily lost at particular stations. Just before retrofire, for exam

ple, Point Arguello, the site giving the firing command, lost contact with the Cape

In each instance, as Walter Williams would point out at the postflight press 

conference, communications were reestablished whenever that particular station 

was needed. 57 

Enos, the orbiting chimpanzee, fared well. He withstood a peak of 6.8 g 

during booster-engine acceleration and 7.6 g with the rush of the sustainer engine

He had been performing his lever-pulling duties for some two minutes before the 

Atlas roared and rose from the pad. During his two orbits he made 29 pulls 

(divided among four sessions) on the continuous-avoidance and discrete-avoidance 

levers, receiving only one shock in each category. On his second problem, which 

404 
the fixedratio task, problem three, Enos pumped his lever and received 13 

banana pellets during his four opportunities. On the first session of problem Four, 

Enos was correct for 18 out of 28 symbol presentations (64.2 percent), thus 

receiving 10 shocks as a result of his miscues. On the second session of problem 

four, however, the center lever malfunctioned, causing shocks even if he pulled 

the correct lever. He received 36 and 43 successive shocks on the third and fourth 

sessions, respectively, because a manmade device had failed. The shocked and 

frustrated chimpanzee nevertheless kept pulling the levers. As he was also trained 

to do, Enos remained at rest during the six-minute intervals between problems. 58 

Near the end of the first orbit, the tracking monitors noted that the capsule 

clock was about 18 seconds too fast and as it passed over the Cape a corrective 

command was dispatched to and accepted by the clock. At that time the Mercury 

Control Center display panels indicated that all spacecraft systems were in good 

order. Suddenly the Atlantic tracking ship reported that inverter temperatures 

were rising. The Canary Island trackers confirmed the environmental control 

system malfunction. Since abnormal heating had occurred on earlier flights 

and the inverters had continued working or had switched to standby, there 

was no a.larm among members at Mercury Control. Then, across the world from 

the Cape, Muchea, Australia, detected high thruster signals and capsule motion 

excursions, although other data indicated that the 34-degree orbit mode was 

being maintained. The Woomera, Australia, tracking station failed to confirm 

this report, and it was discounted. 59 

By the time the MA-5 capsule reached the vicinity of the Canton Island 

station, the operations team realized that the attitude control system was allowing 

the vehicle to go out of its proper orbital mode. A metal chip in a fuel supply 

line (the postflight inspection would reveal) had cut off the propellant flow to one 

of the clockwise roll thrusters. This inactive thruster allowed the spacecraft to 

drift minus 30 degrees from its normal attitude, at which point the automatic 

stabilization and control system brought the spacecraft to zero in a normal ro11­

turn maneuver. Then the spacecraft swung briefly back into the nominal 34­

degree orbital attitude, and the sequence started again. The spacecraft repeated 

this process of drift and correction nine times before retrofire and once more 

between retrofire and the receipt of the .05-g light telemetry signal. The still-active 

thrusters used about 9.5 pounds of control fuel working to keep the capsule 

properly aligned. Each loss of orbit mode cost a little over a pound of fuel 

compared with a first-orbit expenditure of only 1.5 pounds. 60 

The cooling equipment in the environmental control system also began 

to give trouble during the second orbit. Between the Canary Islands and Kano, 

the suit circuit temperature rose rapidly from 65 to 80 degrees, indicating a freezing condition in the heat exchanger. As water in the felt evaporator pad of the 

405 
was ceasing to overheat. Their fears relieved, the physicians felt that the mission 

could continue. Although the cooling system had seemed to correct itself, Kraft, 

the flight director, later remarked that a deicing unit should be added to warm 

the troublesome unit, which had also caused a freeze-up on MA-4. G1 Although 

the medical monitors were willing to allow the mission to proceed through its 

sched uled third pass around the world, the operations team believed that the 

problem of the spacecraft's erratic attitude was too grave to live with. The engineers felt that there simply was not enough attitude fuel left to complete the 

circuit and then go through the reentry phase, in which, even under normal circumstances, fuel usage would be high. 

After the attitude aberrations were first noted, Kraft had alerted the tracking 

unit in Hawaii for a possible clock change to initiate retrofire during the second 

orbit. Then he decided to continue the flight toward California and notified 

Gordon Cooper at Point Arguello that that station might have to initiate a 

ground command for retrofire. Meanwhile, the capsule continued to drift and 

swing in and out of the orbital mode, demonstrating that the attitude control 

system, unlike the environmental control system, would not solve its own problems. 

Twelve seconds before the retrofire point was reached for the normal secondorbit primary recovery point, Kraft decided to bring Enos back to Earth. Arnold 

Aldrich, MSC's chief flight controller at Point Arguello, correctly executed the 

command.G2 

With the exception of the one repeated variation in attitude position, caused 

by the dead roll thruster, reentry went according to plan. The destroyers Stormes 

and Compton and a P5M airplane began preparing for spacecraft retrieval in 

Station 8, the predicted impact point. Three hours and 13 minutes after launch 

and about nine minutes from water impact, the P5M spotted the descending 

spacecraft at an altitude of about 5000 feet and radioed the Stormes and the Compton) 30 miles away. All spacecraft recovery aids except the sarah beacon functioned properly. During the spacecraft's descent, the airplane circled and 

reported landing events, then remained in the area until the Stormes arrived, 

an hour and 15 minutes after the landing, and hauled Enos and his spacecraft 

aboard. Shortly thereafter the hatch was explosively released from outside the 

capsule by a pull on its lanyard, causing the chimp's "picture" window to crack. G3 

Aboard the Stormes and later at Cape Canaveral, Manned Spacecraft Center 

and McDonnell engineers gave the capsule the usual close scrutiny and happily 

found that it had held up well. Except for a slight discoloration caused by aerodynamic heating, the exterior showed no buckling or warping. The interior 

was in good shape, too, although the inspectors did find a small amount of salt 

water. Activation of the explosive hatch caused minor damage in the form 

406 
capsules structural integrity. The center plug of the heatshield was missing (it 

had only worked loose on MA-4) , but close inspection of the opening showed that 

the plug had evidently been in place during reentry. Condition of the impact 

bag, which had survived its first orbital test, was fairly good, although several 

straps were broken and others were severely bent. Again the plastic bulkhead was 

pierced, probably by the heatshield, and the honeycomb material was crushed in 

several places. There was no damage to the tubing or wiring in this area. G4 

At the Cape postflight press conference the leaders of Project Mercury revealed 

no regrets over missing a third orbit. They seemed to regard the reprogramming operation, conducted in the middle of the mission, as a satisfying technical 

accomplishment. In view of the decisiveness with which the various potentially 

critical difficulties had been overcome or circumvented, MA-5 had to be termed 

an excellent operation, one that had achieved most of its objectives and that 

would become a milestone on the road into the unknown. 

Enos had been weightless for 181 minutes and had performed his psychomotor duties with aplomb. Operations director Williams felt that an astronaut riding in the MA-5 spacecraft could have made the necessary corrections 

in flight to complete the three-orbit mission nonnally. On the spacecraft attitude control problem, for example, a man could simply have switched from 

automatic to manual mode, he said. At the same time, Williams was pleased 

that the automatic systems had worked well for over two hours. Equally significant, the vast network of NASA, military, and industry personnel had perfonned like veterans during the emergency. The spacecraft had reentered and 

landed without handing the Navy any unexpected recovery problems. 

Now A MAN IN ORBIT? 

The press corps at the usual postflight press conference listened courteously 

to this technical postmortem, but their main concern was whether another test 

mission would be flown before a manned orbital flight. Williams and Gilruth 

cautiously replied that first the MA-5 data would have to be thoroughly evaluated. Then the reporters wanted to know who had been selected to make 

Mercury's first manned orbital flight. Gilruth was ready for that one; he announced the team members for the next two missions. John H. Glenn was 

the selected prime pilot for the first mission, with M. Scott Carpenter as his 

backup. Donald K. Slayton and Walter M. Schirra were pilot and backup, 

respectively, for the second mission. G5 This announcement represented a considerable change from the tighter news policy regarding crew selection that had 

prevailed in suborbital days. 

Meanwhile Enos had his moment. After the urbane anthropoid came 

407 
temperature was 97.6 degrees; his respiratory rate was 16; and his pulse was 100. 

Apparently reentry, reaching a peak of 7.8 g, had not hurt him. His composure 

at his "press conference" surprised the correspondents. One reporter remarked 

that Enos, unlike Ham, did not become "unhinged" with the popping of the 

flash bulbs. On December 1, Enos reached the Cape for another round of 

physicals, and a week later he departed for his home station at Holloman, and 

well-deserved retirement. GG 

Enos' fame was short-lived. Public attention now turned to the supposedly 

imminent American manned orbital flight, although there still was no assurance that a spacecraft would next carry a man. Speculation mounted when 

Atlas 109-D was hauled into the Cape on the night of November 30. Newsmen immediately gathered around B. G. MacNabb, the Convair preparation 

chief, to ask when the checkout would start. "Tomorrow," he replied. When 

ked if there would be a crash effort in order to make the flight in 1961, Wil­

"We're a little Behind the Russians and 

A little Ahead of the Americans" 

A humorous view of the implications of the ((monkey flights)) to 

the space race was offered by 

cartoonist John Fischetti of the 

Newspaper Enterprise Association. 
pppp yp, p, 

Glenn had moved into special quarters at the Cape, adding that NASA had 

requested Atlantic Missile Range support beginning on December 20 and continuing to year's end.67 

If NASA had ever been involved in a drive to put an American in orbit in 

the year of the Vostoks, that effort halted on December 7, the 20th anniversary 

of the Pearl Harbor attack. Almost casually Gilruth and Williams announced 

that ~he flight was now scheduled for early 1962. The decision, said MSC officials, had been influenced by "minor problems dealing with the cooling system 

and positioning devices in the Mercury capsule." The official press release did 

state that NASA considered the spacecraft, its systems, and the tracking network 

qualified for manned flight. It had been apparent to many NASA officials for 

some time that the manned orbital launch might have to be postponed until 

1962. George Low, at NASA Headquarters, had recognized the probability 

soon after mid-October, when he wrote, "The pad conversion time between 

MA-5 and MA-6 is exceedingly short if MA-6 is to remain on schedule." On 

schedule meant December 19. 

Hugh L. Dryden summed up his philosophy regarding adherence to schedules for manned flight when he said, "You like to have a man go with everything just as near perfect as possible. This business is risky. You can't avoid 

this, but you can take all the precautions you know about."G8 

Although there was regret that this country did not get a man into orbit 

before the Soviets, or at least in the same year, 1961 had recorded substantial 

progress toward making the United States a spacefaring nation. In contrast 

with the atmosphere of uneasiness marking the end of 1960, the Manned Spacecraft Center engineers now knew that they were on the brink on fulfilling Project 

Mercury's basic objectives. The rehearsals were over. 

409 
 

xnnn 
 ..........................................................................................................................................................

Mercury Mission Accomplished 

PROSPECTS looked bright to the managers of Project Mercury at the beginning of 1962. In store was Mercury-Atlas 6, scheduled as a manned orbital 

flight and viewed by some as a salvage operation for America's space prestige. 

If one of its citizens, Marine pilot John Glenn, journeyed successfully through 

space on a multi-orbit global mission, the United States would at least begin 

matching the pace set by the Soviet Union. Although a 3-orbit trek would by 

no means equal the 17-orbit, day-long voyage of Gherrnan S. Titov, the imminence of the mission had helped to allay national uneasiness somewhat. The 

notion that the manned orbital launch should be made in 1961 to coincide with 

Russian feats in the history books subsided with the end of the old year; 1962 

was now here. Whatever regrets the American people had harbored over the 

numerous delays in Project Mercury, they seemed reconciled to schedule slippages 

if safety demanded them. 

But the new year was barely three days old when the news media learned 

that the announced launch date of January 16 had been postponed until January 

23, at the earliest, because of technical problems in the booster fuel tanks. With 

each succeeding delay, and there would be several more, journalists and Congressmen became a little more critical and fidgety. Once again, as on several 

previous occasions, the press spoke of the "space gap," and doubts were raised 

by some writers that the Mercury undertaking would ever succeed. A senior 

member of the House Committee on Science and Astronautics, Republican James 

G. Fulton of Pennsylvania, apparently subscribed to this feeling when he remarked, after viewing a January 27 MA-6 launch attempt, that the Mercury 

spacecraft and Atlas booster could be described as "a Rube Goldberg device on 

top of a plumber's nightmare." President Kennedy disclosed at a news conference on February 14 that he too shared the general disappointment voiced 

about delays in the program, but he added that the decision to go or not to go 

should be left to the "group who are making the judgment." Moreover, he 

reaffirmed his faith in the NASA Mercury team: "I'm going to follow their 

judgment, even though we've had bad luck." 1 

411 
policy, and pointed out that anything but 

Candor at Canaveral could only 

hurt the "national image." In response to their persistent and sometimes annoying questions, reporters were quietly told that this mission had been in the 

planning processes for almost three years and that a few more days' or weeks' 

delay was of little consequence if confidence in its success could be raised another 

notch. This acceptance of the situation by the Cape launch crew and operations 

team stemmed from the program's composite flight test experience. John Glenn, 

-'knowing all of this, enjoined the press representatives covering the event not to 

worry: 2 

This mission has been in preparation for a long time. I can't get particularly 

shook up about a couple of days' delay. As a matter of fact, I'm so happy to 

have been chosen to be the pilot for this mission that I'm not about to get 

panicky over these delays. I learned very early in the flight-test business 

that you have to control your emotions-you don't let these things throw you 

or affect your ability to perform the mission. 

The Mercury team alone knew what had to be right to make it go. 

Back in October 1959, the MA-6 flight, possibly carrying a chimpanzee in 

spacecraft No. 18, had been scheduled for launch in January 1961. But the 

fortunes or misfortunes of manufacture and the ensuing flight test program forced 

many schedule slippages, redesignation of flight order, and capsule configuration 

changes to meet altered test objectives. According to an April 1960 chart, the 

first manned orbital attempt (originally MA-7) was slated for a May 1961 

launch. Six months later the planners moved the target date for this mission 

to July, and after a similar interval they foresaw October as the likely launch 

date. NASA Headquarters' approval of the proposal to add one-day missions 

to the Mercury flight series required further schedule alterations. Several spacecraft had to be modified for the flights of longer duration. Spacecraft No. 13 

was allocated to the MA-6 mission, replacing No. 18, which now was entered 

into the modification cycle. In spite of all this shuffling, as late as October 1961 

the program managers held hopefully to an anticipated manned orbital liftoff 

within 1961. MA-6, instead of MA-7, the managers indicated, would carry 

the first astronaut into orbit, providing the MA-5 chimpanzee flight succeeded 

in November. 3 

A host of manufacturing changes had delayed the progress of spacecraft No. 13 

as it traveled through the McDonnell production and checkout line. Number 

13, beginning to take form in May 1960, also met with the usual fabrication 

problems its predecessors had faced during assembly. On October 10, for example, McDonnell reported to the Space Task Group that a shortage of 

environmental control system components had completely halted work on the cap412 
ment of spacecraft allocations, and McDonnell had been told by the NASA 

planners to redesign No. 13 for the initial manned orbital mission. The factory 

finished and delivered the spacecraft to the Cape on August 27. Four months 

later, after a thorough checkout by the Manned Spacecraft Center's (formerly 

Space Task Group) Cape team, on January 2, 1962, it was mated to its launch 

vehicle, Atlas 109-D.4 

These had been some of the trials that made planning and scheduling difficult 

occupations, especially in a program that had been so often under national 

scrutiny. Therefore, the successive MA-6 launching delays logged in the early 

days of 1962 simply were noted and accepted, and the planners met to decide 

when they could be ready to try again. 

PREPARING A MAN TO ORBIT 

Of course, hardware was only part of the problem of readying MA-6. What 

about the second half of the "spacecraft-man" combination? Would the man 

be just a passenger-observer or a participating system? By mid-September 1961, 

Robert B. Voas, the astronauts' training officer, had drawn up a number of basic 

specifications concerning the pilot's duties in MA-6 in answer to questions of this 

sort. If some part of the automatic attitude control system should fail, for example, the pilot would need to control spacecraft attitude using the manual 

system. Or if displayed information on the spacecraft's attitude position should 

malfunction, the pilot would have to take over and rely on his visual abilities for 

position reckoning by external references. Voas had studied high-altitude photographs of the MA-4 flight and he knew that on the sunlit side of Earth the 

horizon should quickly provide an excellent capsule attitude reference, but the 

nightside might present problems unless there was bright moonlight. Possibly 

known stars could serve as attitude reference points, he theorized. Voas also 

felt that a comparison of window and periscope reference was needed.5 

To measure man's potential as a spatial navigator, Voas wanted the astronaut 

to look for the smallest detectable landmark, to estimate the effects of weather 

conditions on visibility, and to judge precisely the occultation of the stars by 

Earth's atmosphere. Theoretically, from the vantage point of the orbital flight 

trajectory an astronaut should see about a 900-mile arc of the horizon. He 

should be able to determine how much of this was effective horizon in terms of 

his ability to recognize a landmark with the unaided eye. One important facet 

of any later space exploration, Voas said, would be man's visual acuity in estimating spatial depth and distance; tracking an artificial object in a nearly identical 

orbit during a Mercury circumnavigation would partially test this ability. The 

spent Atlas tankage trailing the capsule should offer an excellent opportunity 

in this respect. 

413 
it was impossible to say whether Titov had had a purely personal aversion to 

weightlessness or whether men in general would have similar troubles under 

zero g. Neither Alan Shepard nor Virgil Grissom had experienced vertigo during the two Mercury suborbital flights. Voas felt that if disorientation and 

nausea were in fact products of longer durations of weightlessness, as some physicians and physiologists believed, the symptoms could be remedied through 

preflight training, proper flight procedures, or, if necessary, by drugs. 

Voas acquainted the astronauts with the probable effects of weightlessness on 

their sensory organs. The otoliths, the ear's angular accelerometers, should not 

be affected, he said. Muscle and skin sensory functions should be affected only 

slightly, but those muscles sensing the amount of gravity would lose their acuity 

completely. By and large, the general diminution of sensory perception accompanying space flight should be overcome by the astronaut's eyes and his memory. 

To test his theories, Voas prescribed an experiment to be conducted on the dark 

side of Earth. The pilot would touch certain panel dials with his eyes open and 

then with his eyes closed, after moving his head quickly to the right, left, and 

forward. Gordon Cooper expressed qualms felt by several people over Voas' 

"blind flying" test when he remarked, "You shouldn't be reaching over on this 

panel with your eyes shut." 

Other tasks planned by Voas included taking pictures through the window and 

periscope with a hand-held camera, describing the cloud cover on the day side, 

and looking for lightning in squall lines as requested by the United States Weather 

Bureau. On the night side the pilot should repeat those tasks and observe the 

aurora and luminescence of Earth's clouds. Finally, he should scan the star fields, 

the Milky Way, and note the size and appearance of the Moon as well as describe 

a moonset. 6 

The September study by Voas included the initial efforts of the Space Task 

Group to foster a scientific inroad into the manned space flight program. After 

distributing his paper among the astronauts and receiving favorable comment 

from several, Voas then sought the assistance of NASA Headquarters to obtain 

a broader base for possible astronaut activities in space from the various scientific 

disciplines that were available. Homer E. Newell and Nancy G. Roman of that 

organization reacted by directing the formation of an ad hoc committee for 

astronomical tasks for the Mercury pilots, assigning Jocelyn R. Gill as the committee chairman. This group was an offshoot of the formal Astronomy Subcommittee, a part of NASA's Space Sciences Steering Committee. 7 

As a beginning Gill and Voas attended a meeting of the Astronomy Subcommittee held at the Grumman Aircraft Engineering Corporation, Bethpage, New 

York, on October 30-31, 1961. Voas reviewed the abilities of the astronauts 

414 
mittee discussed the possibilities and then suggested 10 tasks that an astronau

might accomplish. A few of these were: observe the night airglow as to it

intensity and structure, look for comets before sunset and after dawn, note th

frequency of meteor flashes, look for the aurora and describe its intensity, sketch 

the zodiacal light relative to the star background, and observe the size and position 

relative to the star background of the gegenschein. 8 

Besides generally acquainting the Mercury astronauts with the spatial environ

ment, their possible reactions, and what they might accomplish in the way o

operations and scientific observations, Voas also had pressed forward with a plan 

for a specific training program to prepare the crewmen to operate and manage th

spacecraft systems on orbital missions. He first compiled a list of proposed training 

activities, and then he called a meeting at Langley on September 26 to discus

his report. The STG officers present adopted the training proposal, which becam

a formal working paper on October 13. With slight subsequent amendments

this working paper, No. 206, spelled out the astronaut training and preparation 

procedures that would be followed for the rest of the Mercury program.!) 

The first stated prerequisite for the astronaut, as formulated by Raymond G

Zedekar of STG, was a thorough familiarity with the spacecraft and all its systems

He must know every mission detail, including every flight and ground rule; h

would be expected to demonstrate peak performance in every task during th

flight; and his skills must include making failure diagnoses and taking the prope

corrective action. 

Preparing the pilot for his role during an orbital mission, the astronau

training personnel obviously could draw heavily on Shepard's and Grissom'

suborbital experiences. The nine separate checkouts of the spacecraft after i

arrived at the Cape, they felt, would provide excellent familiarization and system

training for the prime pilot and his alternate, who would be assigned to take turn

in the capsule's contour couch. Then, if any modifications to the hardware o

change in methods should become necessary, either man would be fully prepared 

to give valuable advice as well as to learn how the component change or new 

procedure would affect the mission. But by all accounts, as particularly ascribed 

to by the Mercury suborbital pilots, the best training sesssions for practicing both 

normal and abnormal flight conditions in the Mercury program were those held 

in the procedures trainer. There all phases of a mission-prelaunch, countdown

launch, orbit, reentry, recovery, and emergency- could be simulated. The train

ing planners decided that at least 30 hours of practice would be scheduled in thi

McDonnell-made trainer. On some occasions the simulation called for hookin

the trainer in with the Mercury Control Center and the Bermuda tracking site

an exercise that also would help the flight controllers check, promulgate, o

practice their communications and control procedures. 

415 
the spacecraft had been mated with the booster, the astronaut would have a key 

role in the capsule systems test, sequential and abort exercises, and the simulated 

flight that accompanied each countdown launch simulation. With the astronaut 

sitting in the spacecraft, all countdown checks would be run up to the point of 

hatch installation. Voas' training document stipulated that even the exercise of 

slipping the pilot into his capsule should be practiced until the insertion crew had 

it down perfectly. Besides all this work at the Cape, preflight trips were planned 

to the Morehead Planetarium in North Carolina, so that the astronaut and his 

backup pilot could fix star patterns in their minds as an aid to their orbital celestial 

observations. To obtain a familiarity with angular motion, they would attend 

sessions in the Pensacola Naval Air Station's "rotating room" and on the human 

disorientation device. Egress training, the value of which Grissom vouched for 

after his harrowing recovery, was scheduled on the open water in the Atlantic. 

Finally, there were Morse code instruction, map study, and briefings by the 

Weather Bureau support team on observation procedures. 1o 

All these varied tasks had to be scheduled in logical progression to bring about 

a status of "flight readiness." The original training directive specified that an intensive training program for an upcoming flight should begin with a comprehensive 

study of all capsule instrumentation about 81 days before the launch was scheduled. 

Nine days later, after the astronaut and his alternate had memorized everything 

they could about the capsule instrument panel, they would start spending at least 

three hours per week in the procedures trainer, making brief excursions to Langley 

for sessions on the air-lubricated, free-axis (ALFA) trainer. In the procedures 

trainer they would go through specific mission profiles. These included a normal 

one-orbit mission, lasting about 90 minutes, with the astronaut in casual clothes; 

five-hour sessions simulating three orbits, with the astronaut wearing a pressure 

suit on some occasions; and 30-minute abort simulations, including such hazards 

as the failure of the retropackage to jettison, failure of the spacecraft's main batteries shortly after orbital insertion, and many other malfunctions covering every 

conceivable contingency that the training officers could devise.ll 

By December 1961, after Glenn and Carpenter had been publicly named for 

the Mercury-Atlas 6 mission, training plans were expanded to include their medical 

evaluations. For the altitude chamber simulated flight conducted about 45 to 60 

days before the anticipated launch, Glenn was examined, fitted with biosensors, 

suited, pressure-checked, and then loaded into the transfer van and medically 

observed during the trip to the altitude test chamber. After he seated himself 

in the couch, his biosensor data were checked, his electrocardiogram leads were 

monitored, and the newly fabricated blood pressure equipment was exercised. 

Also there was a checkout of the spacecraft's environmental control system.l~ 

416 
Glenn performs simulated flight in the 

procedures trainer; Robert B. Voas 

looks on during the training session. 

MA-6 

Preflight 

Glenn undergoes disorientation test. 

Carpenter practices egress from 

the neck of Glenn's spacecraft. 

Glenn takes time in the pad white 

room to pose with Thomas J. 

0'Malley of General Dynamics 

and Paul C. Donnelly of STG. 
this gathering was to adjust the suggestions emanating from the earlier meeting of 

the Astronomy Subcommittee into a workable order to provide the astronauts with 

as much background as possible of what they might expect to see in space. The 

first piece of equipment for scientific purposes aboard the spacecraft discussed was 

a small filter planned for use in studying the irregularities of the night-sky illumination and aurorae. For later missions an ultraviolet camera was suggested for possible use in photographing the stellar spectra. 13 

Some eight days later Glenn, Carpenter, and Schirra accompanied Voas and 

Douglas to a second meeting called by Gill. Point by point the requested astronomical observations were explained to the three astronauts. Because of their 

evident interest, Gill was of the opinion that such briefings, perhaps with even more 

detailed information, should be provided at intervals as well as just before flight 

time. H 

During the month before the MA-6 mission, Glenn underwent at the launch 

site a realistic test termed "Pad Rehearsal No.1." This exercise started with biosensor and suiting-up preparations at the hangar, transportation to the pad, and 

insertion of the astronaut into the spacecraft. Both the blockhouse and the Mercury Control Center were tied into and participated in this exercise. Several days 

later this operation was carried out again, and this time the gantry was pulled away 

to make conditions more realistic. Then about three days before the scheduled 

flight, after he had already begun his low-residue diet, Glenn went through a 

simulated mission encompassing the,entire flight plan. 

Other preflight medical activities included a complete physical examination 

two days before the anticipated launch. The Mercury physicians issued Glenn 

a number of medications for his survival pack, including morphine for pain, 

mephentermine sulfate for shock, benzylamine hydrochloride for motion sickness, 

and racemic amphetamine sulfate (a common pep pill) for a stimulant. Radiation-measuring film packs were tucked inside the spacecraft.15 

Glenn and Carpenter had completed most of their preflight training program 

by the end of January, but the continuing delay of the MA-6 launch forced them 

to go on with their crowded routine. Glenn spent 25 hours and 25 minutes in the 

spacecraft during the hangar and altitude test chamber checks and uncounted 

hours on the pad after the launch rocket and spacecraft were mated. On the procedures trainer between December 13, 1961, and February 17,1962, he logged 59 

hours and 45 minutes (far beyond the 30 required by the training directive) and 

worked through 70 simulated missions in the process, reacting to some 189 simulated system failures. Glenn and Carpenter, along with Donald Slayton and 

Walter Schirra, already picked for MA-7, participated in a two-day (December 

11 and 13, 1961) recovery exercise on the Back River near Langley Air Force 

418 
Not only the pilots but many others were training for the MA-6 mission. On 

January 15, 16, and 17, 1962, recovery team swimmers practiced jumping from 

helicopters and placing the new auxiliary flotation collar around a boilerplate capsule. The flight controllers who were to deploy to the remote tracking sites got 

their final briefing on January 3 and left for their respective stations, where they 

engaged in seven rather extensive network exercises. Mercury Control, Goddard, 

and the Bermuda site conducted tests to check the Control Center-Bermuda abort 

command sequence. On January 25, Eugene F. Kranz reported to Christopher 

C. Kraft, the flight director, that the network team was at its peak condition. He 

feared that motivation and performance might decline if the flight continued to be 

delayed. 17 

Although this was to be the first manned orbital flight in Project Mercury, earlier flights set many precedents in the planning process for such items as recovery requirements, mission rules, and test objectives, and consequently the mission planning for MA-6 was almost routine. The launch azimuth heading was to be the 

same that Enos had followed into orbit riding MA-5; the recovery forces, now 

thoroughly seasoned, although somewhat larger than for MA-5, were stationed 

to cover essentially the same landing areas; ignition procedures and range rules 

for the launch were about the same as on previous Mercury-Atlas missions. 18 

BUILDUP FOR THE SPACE OFFENSIVE 

Again NASA invited the world's news media to send representatives to cover 

one of its launches. On December 5, 1961, Headquarters informed newspaper 

and magazine editors that NASA was planning to accommodate up to 400 accredited reporters. No exact flight date was mentioned, but the press was told 

that the launch would occur "either late this year or early the next." ID All hopes 

for a 1961 shot were dashed two days later when NASA Headquarters announced 

the postponement of MA-6 until early 1962. 

Work to assist the news media in covering the event had been proceeding at the 

Manned Spacecraft Center for some time. Several months before the MA-6 

launch, its Public Affairs Office, then under the direction of Lieutenant Colonel 

John A. "Shorty" Powers, began preparing a "Public Information Operating 

Plan," giving the estimated dates on which particular phases of the mission plan 

would be carried out. Powers evaluated each segment of the plan and recommended to the press various training and hardware preparation activities that the 

reporters might be interested in covering, as well as arranging for the reporters to 

cover flight-day activities. News release handouts were prepared covering almost 

every conceivable phase of the flight, from what the pilot would have for breakfast 

to an intricate discussion of how a spacecraft attitude control system should work. 

419 
queries posed by newsmen, and some were assigned to prepare advisories concern

ing mission progress status. 

Correspondents accredited by NASA, many clad in colorful beach raiment, de

scended on the area. They avidly consumed the space agency's prepared infOlma

tion, interviewed key figures of the NASA-DOD-industry operations team, sunned 

on the beach, and pressed for more news and anecdotes after the evening meal

Some critics likened the atmosphere to that of a circus, but literally hundreds o

thousands of words about every conceivable phase of the manned space program 

poured out for the edification of the tax-paying masses. 20 Surely in history no 

program that still essentially was in its research and development stage had eve

been so open to the public through the eyes of the Fourth Estate. 

The first "gathering on the beach" to view the MA-6 launch occurred on 

cloudy Saturday morning, January 27, 1962, after bad weather had forced the 

launch to slip day-to-day from January 23, when the firing was first intended

The countdown ticked on but the overcast remained solid, and a general feeling 

swept through the crowd of faithful "bird watchers" that this still was not the 

day. Finally, at T minus 20 minutes Walter C. Williams, the mission director

canceled the shot. The overcast was so heavy that the necessary camera coverag

of the early trajectory events would be impossible. "It was one of those days,

said Williams later, "when nothing was wrong but nothing was just right either

I welcomed that overcast." 21 John Glenn had been in his spacecraft, Friendship 

7, named in a contest by his own family, a little over five hours. The reschedul

ing of the launch for February 1, four days ahead, necessitated emptying and 

purging the Atlas of its propellants. 

On January 30 the ground support crew once more began fueling Atlas 109-D

During preflight checkout, a mechanic discovered, by a routine opening of a drain 

plug, that there was fuel in the cavity between the structural bulkhead and an 

insulation bulkhead separating the fuel and oxidizer tanks. The launch vehicl

team estimated that, since the insulation had to be removed, a maximum of 10 

work days would be needed to correct the problem and to check out the systems

This delay would slip the launch date, and slipping the launch date caused prob

lems for the recovery force. Some 24 ships, more than 60 aircraft, and 

number of specialized units, manned by a combined total of 18,000 personne

around the world, had to consider whether they could remain at their station

for a new date that might very well slip again. When all the tallies from th

widespread units were before the recovery force commander, Rear Admiral John 

L. Chew, 	 February 13 seemed the earliest possible next try at MA-6. 22 

On January 31, amidst an audible groan from more than 600 news-medi

420 
Press site 2, Cape Canaveral, in the early morning hours of January 27, 1962. 

Friendship 7 is silhouetted against gray clouds that would postpone the mission. 

representatives who had managed to become accredited, the new launch date 

two weeks ahead was announced. Two weeks more at the Cape was too much 

for most of the benumbed newsmen; the exodus from the Florida peninsula 

began immediately. Only the spacecraft and launch vehicle technicians were 

left to minister, as Walter Williams termed it, to the "sick bird." Glenn took 

several days off to spend some time with his family at home in Arlington, Virginia. 

On one occasion he crossed the Potomac River to the White House for a brief 

visit with President Kennedy, who asked him many semitechnical questions about 

plans and systems for the orbital ftight. 23 

On February 9, as NASA personnel began to move back to the Cape, the 

weather was still foul. Evidently the newsmen felt there was little chance 

for a launching on the scheduled date; by the 13th only 200 had checked in at 

the motels in nearby Cocoa Beach. They received some grist for the journalistic 

mill at a press briefing arranged by NASA's Paul P. Haney and "Shorty" Powers. 

Robert L. Foster from McDonnell answered some questions about the spacecraft and Major Charles L. Gandy and Lieutenant Colonel Kenneth E. Grine of 

the Air Force answered others on the launch vehicle work and the general 

state of readiness for the ftight. 24 

421 
studied the flight plan and technical documentation. 

On February 19 the sky brightened; so did the spirits of the operations crew

who immediately began the 610-minute split countdown. During the afternoo

the Department of Defense recovery force weather observers in the Atlantic re

ported to Williams that they had favorable weather conditions. At the Cap

however, the Weather Bureau personnel observed a frontal system moving acro

central Florida which, they surmised, could cause broken cloudiness over th

Cape area on Tuesday morning (February 20). Williams, hoping for the bes

decided to continue and ordered the launch crew to pick up the second half o

the countdown at 11: 30 p.m. on the evening of the 19th.25 

Meanwhile Glenn restudied the detailed mission sequence, first reviewing th

countdown progress and then looking over his flight plan and checking the equip

ment list. That afternoon he attended another "final" mission review meeting

called by Williams. Glenn believed an astronaut should study his spacecraft

systems until the last possible minute before a flight. Shortly before he went t

bed that night he read a section in the flight controller's handbook on the automat

stabilization and control system. 2G 

AN AMERICAN IN ORBIT 

Glenn was awakened once again at 2 : 20 a.m. on February 20. After showe

ing, he sat down to a breakfast of steak, scrambled eggs, toast, orange juice, an

coffee~ At 3: 05 the astronauts' flight surgeon, William Douglas, gave him 

brief physical examination. 

Douglas, Glenn, and his suit technician, Joe W. Schmitt, were only three of 

multitude hard at work on the cloudy February morning. In the Mercur

Control Center procedures log, the flight control team noted at 3: 40 that the

were "up and at it." The team immediately conducted a radar check, an

although ionospheric conditions made the results poor the controllers believed th

situation would improve soon. So they went on to check booster telemetry an

the Control Center's voice intercom system, both of which were in good orde

Shortly thereafter they found a faulty communication link that was suppose

to be obtaining information about the capsule's oxygen system, but within minute

they had corrected the problem. 27 

At 4: 27 a.m. Christopher Kraft, sitting before his flight director's consol

received word that the global tracking network had been checked out and wa

ready. In Hangar S, Douglas placed the biosensors on Glenn, and Joe Schmi

began helping the astronaut don his 20-pound pressure suit. At 5: 01 th

Mercury Control Center learned that the astronaut was in the van and on h

422 
g p

astronaut insertion activity, the delay was not likely to halt the readying procedures for very long. The installation of a spare unit and an additional 

45 minutes required for its checkout, however, made a total of 135 minutes lost. 28 

Because of overcast weather and the guidance problem in the Atlas, Glenn 

relaxed comfortably in the van until 5: 58, when the sky began to clear. The 

capsule and booster validation checks were progressing normally as he emerged 

from the van, saluted the onlookers, and boarded the gantry elevator. At 6: 03, 

the operations team noted in its procedures log, the astronaut "put a foot into the 

spacecraft." Once inside Friendship 7, Glenn noticed that the respiration sensor-a thermistor attached to the astronaut's microphone in the air stream of 

his breath-had shifted from where it had been fixed during the simulated flight. 

Stanley C. White pointed out to Williams that a correction could only be made 

by opening the suit, a very tricky operation atop the gantry. So the two officials 

decided to disregard the slipped thermistor, even though faulty data would result. 

White advised the range to ignore all respiratory transmissions. 29 

At last the technicians began to bolt the hatch onto the spacecraft, but at 7: 10, 

with the countdown proceeding and most of the 70 bolts secured, a broken bolt 

was discovered. Although Grissom had flown in MR-4 with a broken hatch bolt, 

Williams, taking no chances this time, ordered removal and repair. Taking the 

hatch off and reboltilng would require about 40 minutes, so the operations team 

took this opportunity to run still another check of the guidance system on Atlas 

109-D. Glenn evidently maintained his composure during this hold, with his 

pulse ranging between 60 and 80 beats per minute. When a little more than 

half of the bolts had been secured, he peered through the periscope and remarked 

to Scott Carpenter and Alan Shepard in the Control Center, "Looks like the 

weather is breaking up." 3 0 

Minutes later the hatch installation was completed and the cabin purge was 

started. A check of the cabin oxygen leakage rate indicated 500 cubic centimeters per minute, well within design specifications. At 8: 05, T minus 60 minutes, the countdown continued, but after 15 minutes a hold was called to add about 

10 gallons of propellant to the booster's tanks. Glenn had been busily going over 

his capsule systems checklist. As the holds continued, he occupied his time and 

relieved the pressure at various points on his cramped body by pulling on the 

bungee-cord exercising device in front of his head in the capsule. The countdown 

resumed while the liquid oxygen was being pumped aboard the Atlas, but at T 

minus 22 minutes, 8: 58, a fuel pump outlet valve stuck, causing still another hold. 3 1 

At that point in the countdown, Glenn, the blockhouse and Control Center 

crews, and workers scurrying around and climbing on the gantry were joined by 

some 100 million people watching television sets in about 40 million homes 

423 
Above) Glenn leaves Hangar S 

with Dr. William K. Douglas (center) and Joe W. Schmitt. The 

launch (above right). At right) 

Army Larc stands ready for emergency recovery. Below right) 

Mercury Controts big radar follows the launch trajectory. 

Flight of 

Friendship 7 

Feb. 20, 1962 
Mercury Control mans its bank 

of flight monitoring consoles. 

Glenn photographs the flattened sun of an orbital sunset. 

On Grand Turk Island~ Glenn 

continues debriefing for~ left to 

right) Kenneth S. Kleinknecht 

and John]. Williams of STG. 
January and had organized trailer towns, complete with mayors. Mission a

nouncer Powers, popularly known as "the voice of Mercury Control," who ha

been at his post in the Control Center since 5 o'clock that morning, went on th

air to advise the waiting public of the status of the countdown and the cause f

the present hold. 

With the stuck valve cleared, the count picked up at 9: 25, but another su

penseful moment came at 61'2 minutes before launch time, when the Bermud

tracking station experienced an electrical power failure. Although the breakdow

was brief, it took several more minutes to steady the Bermuda computer. 

At 9: 47, after two hours and 17 minutes of holds and three hours and 44 mi

utes after Glenn entered his "office," Friendship 7 was launched on its orbital jou

ney. The Atlas, supported by its tail of fire, lifted off its pad, and Powers mad

the announcement that this country had waited three long years to hear: "Glen

reports all spacecraft systems go! Mercury Control is go!" As Atlas 109-

lunged spaceward, Glenn's pulse rate climbed to 110, as expected. The Atlas an

its control systems telemetered signals that they were functioning perfectly.82 

Half a minute after liftoff the General Electric-Burroughs guidance syste

locked onto a radio transponder in the booster to guide the vehicle until it w

through the orbital insertion "window." The vibration at liftoff hardly bothere

Glenn, but a hundred seconds later at max-q he reported, "It's a little bump

about here." After the rocket plunged through the max-q region, the flig

smoothed out; then two minutes and 14 seconds after launch, the outboard boost

engines cut off and dropped away. Glenn saw a wisp of smoke and fleeting

thought the escape tower had jettisoned early, but that event occurred exactly o

time, 20 seconds later.33 

When the tower separated, the vehicle combination pitched over still furthe

giving Glenn his first view of the horizon, which he described as "a beautiful sigh

looking eastward across the Atlantic." Vibration increased as the fuel supp

spewed out the sustainer engine nozzle, then abruptly stopped when the sustain

shut down. The sustainer had accelerated the capsule to a velocity only sev

feet per second below nominal and had put the Atlas into an orbital trajectory on

.05 of a degree low. Joyously the operations team noted in the log, "9: 52- - -W

are through the gates." Glenn received word that he could make at least sev

orbits with the orbital conditions MA-6 had achieved. To Goddard's compute

in Maryland the orbital insertion conditions appeared good enough for almost 10

orbits. 34 

Although the posigrade rockets kicked the capsule loose from the booster at th

correct instant, the five-second rate-damping operation started two and a ha

seconds late. This brief lapse caused a substantial initial roll error just as th

426 
p

()p

matic positioning maneuver, Glenn made his control checks with such ease that it 

seemed, he said, as if he were sitting in the procedures trainer. As Voas had asked 

him to do, the astronaut peered through the window at the tumbling Atlas tankage. It had come into view exactly as Ben F. McCreary of MSC had predicted it 

would. He could see the spent vehicle turning end over end, and he called out 

estimates of distances between the separating vehicles: "One hundred yards, two 

hundred yards." At one point Glenn's estimate matched the telemetry signal 

exactly. He visually tracked the sustainer intermittently for about eight minutes.z5 

Glenn, noticing the onset of weightlessness, settled into orbital free flight with 

an inertial velocity of 17,544 miles per hour and reported that zero g was wholly 

pleasant.. Although he could move well and see much through his trapezoidal 

window, he wanted to see even more. "I guess I'd like a glass capsule," he later 

quipped. Weightlessness also helped him as he used the hand-held camera. 

When his attention was drawn to a panel switch or readout, he simply left the 

"weightless" camera suspended and reached for the switch. Dutifully carrying 

out all of the head and body movements requested by Voas, he experienced none 

of the sensations reported by Gherman Titov. While any Glenn-Titov comparison might be ruled invalid since Titov reportedly became nauseated on his sixth 

orbit and Glenn flew only three orbits, MA-6 at least was to demonstrate to the 

American medical community that there were no discernible adverse physiological 

effects from over four hours of weightlessness. 36 

The first orbit of Friendship 7 began ticking off like clockwork with the Canary 

Islands reporting all capsule systems in perfect working order. Looking at the 

African coastline, and later the interior over Kano, Nigeria, Glenn told the tracking 

station team that he could see a dust storm. Kano flight communicators replied 

that the winds had been quite heavy for the past week.37 

Glenn, completing his spacecraft systems checks over the Canaries, had commented that he was getting a little behind in his schedule but that all systems still 

were "go." Then, over Kano, he had commenced his own first major yaw adjustment, involving a complete turnaround of the capsule until he was facing his flight 

path. Glenn noted that the attitude indicators disagreed with what he could see 

were true spacecraft attitudes. Despite the incorrect panel readouts, he was 

pleased to be facing the direction his spacecraft was going. 38 

Over the Indian Ocean on his first orbit, Glenn became the first American to 

witness the sunset from above 100 miles. Awed but not poetically inclined, the 

astronaut described the moment of twilight simply as "beautiful." Space sky 

was very black, he said, with a thin band of blue along the horizon. He could 

see the cloud strata below, but the clouds in tum prevented his seeing a mortar 

flare fired by the Indian Ocean tracking ship. Glenn described the remarkable 

427 
On the nightside of Earth, nearing the Australian coastline, Glenn ma

his planned star, weather, and landmark observations. He failed to see the d

light phenomenon of the heavens called the zodiacal light; he thought his eyes h

not had sufficient time to adapt to the darkness. Within voice radio range 

the Muchea, Australia, tracking station, Glenn and Gordon Cooper began 

long space-to-Earth conversation. The astronaut reported that he felt fine, th

he had no problems, and that he could see a very bright light and what appear

to be the outline of a city. Cooper answered that he probably saw the lights 

Perth and Rockingham. Glenn also said that he could see stars as he look

down toward the "real" horizon-as distinguished from the haze layer he e

mated to be about seven or eight degrees above the horizon on the nightside-a

clouds reflecting the moonlight. "That sure was a short day," he excitedly to

Cooper. "That was about the shortest day I've ever run into." 39 

Moving onward above the Pacific over Canton Island, Glenn experienc

an even shorter 45-minute night and prepared his periscope for viewing his fi

sunrise in orbit. As the day dawned over the island, he saw literally thousan

of "little specks, brilliant specks, floating around outside the capsule." Glen

first impression was that the spacecraft was tumbling or that he was looking in

a star field, but a quick hard look out of the capsule window corrected this mome

tary illusion. He definitely thought the luminescent "fireflies," as he dubbed t

specks, were streaming past his spacecraft from ahead. They seemed to flo

leisurely but not to be originating from any part of the capsule. As Friendship 

sped over the Pacific expanse into brighter sunlight, the "fireflies" disappeared

The global circuit was proceeding without any major problems, and Gle

still was en joying his extended encounter with zero g. He ran into some bothe

some interference on his broadband HF radio when he tried to talk with t

Hawaiian site at Kauai. An aircraft from the Pacific Missile Range tried u

successfully to locate the noise source. Other than the mystery of the "fireflie

and the intermittent HF interference, the mission was going fine, with the capsu

attitude control system performing perfectly. 

Then the tracking station at Guaymas, Mexico, informed the control cen

in Florida that a yaw reaction jet was giving Glenn an attitude control proble

that, as he later recalled, "was to stick with me for the rest of the flight." Th

was disheartening news for those in the operations team, who remembered th

a sticking fuel valve discovered during the second orbital pass of the chimpanz

Enos had caused the early termination of MA-5. If Glenn could overcome th

control problem he would furnish confirmation for Williams' and others' co

tention that man was an essential element in the loop. If the psychologis

428 
control system allowed the spacecraft to drift about a degree and a half per 

second to the right, much like an automobile with its front wheels well out of 

alignment. This drift initiated a signal in the system that called for a one-pound 

yaw-left thrust, but there was no rate response. Glenn immediately switched 

to his manual-proportional control mode and eased Friendship 7 back to orbital 

attitude. Then, switching from mode to mode, he sought to determine how to 

maintain the correct attitude position with the least cost in fuel. He reported 

)hat fly-by-wire seemed most effective and economical. Mercury Control Center 

recommended that he stay with .this control system. After about 20 minutes the 

malfunctioning thruster mysteriously began working again, and with the exception of a few weak responses it seemed to be working well by the time Glenn was 

over Texas. After only about a minute of automated flight, however, the opposing yaw-right thruster ceased to function. When similar trials and waiting 

did not restore the yaw-right jet, Glenn realized that he would have to live with 

the problem and become a full-time pilot responsible for his own well-being. 41 

To the operations team at the Cape and to the crews at the tracking sites, 

Glenn appeared to be coping with his attitude control problem well, even though 

he had to omit many of his observational assignments. But a still more serious 

problem bothered the Cape monitors as Friendship 7 moved over them. An 

engineer at the telemetry control console, William Saunders, noted that "segment 

51," an instrument providing data on the spacecraft landing system, was presenting a strange reading. According to the signal, the spacecraft heatshield and the 

compressed landing bag were no longer locked in position. If this was really 

the case, the all-important heatshield was being held on the capsule only by the 

straps of the retropackage. Almost immediately the Mercury Control Center 

ordered all tracking sites to monitor the instrumentation segment closely and, in 

their conversations with the pilot, to mention that the landing-bag deploy switch 

should be in the "off" position. Although Glenn was not immediately aware of 

his potential danger, he became suspicious when site after site consecutively 

asked him to make sure that the deploy switch was off. Meanwhile the operations team had to decide how to get the capsule and the astronaut back through 

the atmosphere with a loose heatshield. After huddling for several minutes, they 

decided that after retrofire the spent retropackage should be retained to keep the 

shield secure during reentry. William M. Bland, Jr., in the control center, hurriedly telephoned Maxime A. Faget, the chief designer of the Mercury spacecraft, in Houston, to ask if there were any special considerations they needed to 

know or to watch. Faget replied that everything should be all right, providing 

all the retrorockets fired. If they did not, the retropack would have to be 

jettisoned, because any unburned solid propellant would ignite during reentry. 

429 
aerDdynamic pressures wDuld be strDng enDugh to' keep the shield in place. Th

decisiDn Dnce made, the members Df the DperatiDns team fDught Dff a gnawin

uneasiness thrDughDut the rest Df the flight. 42 This uneasiness was transmitte

to' the TV and radiO' audience befDre actual retrDfire. 

Meanwhile Friendship 7 was vaulting the Atlantic Dn its secDnd Drbital pas

and Glenn was busy keeping his capsule's attitude CDrrect and trying to' accDmpli

as many Df the flight plan tasks as pDssible. He had advised Virgil Grissom 

Bennuda that the DculDgyriC test, invDlving visually fDllDwing a light SpDt, ha

just been cDmpleted. Near the Canary Islands the sun, streaming thrDugh h

windDw, made Glenn a little wann, but he refused to' adjust the water cDDlant CD

trol Dn his suit circuit. This time arDund he observed that evidently the "fir

flies" Dutside the spacecraft had nO' cDnnectiDn with the gas from the reactio

cDntrDI jets. Glenn skillfully pDsitiDned his ship to' take SDme phDtDgraphs 

the clDud masses and Earth spinning past beneath him. As he mused Dver 

small bDlt flDating arDund inside the capsule, the KanD and Zanzibar sites mDnitD

ing the capsule suddenly nDted a 12 percent drDp in the secDndary Dxygen supply.4

l\1eanwhile the Indian Ocean tracking ship was preparing fDr the secDn

pass DbservatiDn experiment. Battened dDwn fDr heavy weather, the Mercu

suppDrt crew decided that releasing balloons fDr Glenn to' try to' see was out 

the questiDn and instead they fired star-shell parachute flares. Glenn, hDweve

was able to' observe Dnly lightning flashes in the stDnn clDuds belDw. 

Over the Indian Ocean, Glenn finally decided to' adjust the water cDDlant flD

in the suit circuit to' imprDve Dn a cDnditiDn he described as "cDmfDrtably warm

By the time he was Dver W oomera, Australia, the light signal warning Df exce

cabin water tDld him that the humidity level was rising. FrDm then on thrDug

Dut the rest Df the flight he had to' balance his suit cooling carefully against th

cabin humidity, but the temperature inside his suit was never mDre than mDde

ately uncDmfDrtable. AnDther warning light appeared Dver Australia, indicatin

that the hydrDgen perDxide fuel supply fDr the autDmatic system was dDwn to' 6

percent. Mercury CDntrDI Center recDmmended letting the capsule drift in Drb

to' cDnserve fuel. Glenn alsO' cDmplained that the rDll hDrizDn scanner did nDt see

to' be wDrking too well Dn the nightside Df Earth and that it was difficult for hi

to' Dbtain a visual reference to' check the situatiDn. TO' get a better view of Earth

hDrizDn he pitched the spacecraft slightly dDwnward, which helped SDme. 

For the remainder Df the secDnd Drbit and while gDi.ng Dn intO' the thi

pass, Friendship 7 enCDuntered nO' new trDubles. Glenn cDntinued to' contrDI h

attitude withDut allDwing tDD much drift, and cDnsequently cDnsumed cDnsiderab

mDre fuel than the autDmatic system wDuld have used had the cDntrDI system bee

wDrking nDrmally. He had used six pDunds frDm the autDmatic tank and 11

430 
photographing the constellation Orion, and executing a third lBOdegree yaw 

maneuver. 

On the last orbital circuit of Friendship 7, the Indian Ocean tracking ship gave 

up on the release of objects for pilot observation; cloud coverage was still too thick. 

There was still time enough for a little joking between Cooper, at Muchea, and 

Glenn. The pilot quite formally requested the "down under" communicator to 

tell General David Shoup, Commandant of the Marine Corps, that three orbits 

should suffice for his minimal monthly requirement of four hours' flying time. 

Glenn asked that he be certified as eligible for his regular flight pay increment. 

Now that Friendship 7 was halfway through its last orbit, Williams and 

Kraft decided to try once more to find out all they could about the heatshield before 

Glenn and his ship plunged through the searing reentry zone. At Kraft's order, 

the Hawaiian tracking site told Glenn to place the landing bag deploy switch in 

the automatic position. Then, if a light came on, he should enter with the retropack in place. Coupling this with past queries about this switch, Glenn thoroughly 

deduced his situation. He ran the test, reported that no light appeared, and added 

that he could hear no loose bumping noises when the spacecraft's attitude changed. 

The ground crew leaders differed regarding the best possible procedure to follow: 

Capsule systems monitors in the Control Center thought that the retropack should 

be jettisoned, while the data reduction crew urged that it be retained. This left 

the final decision up to Kraft and Williams. They weighed the information they 

had received and decided it would be safer to keep the retropack. Walter Schirra, 

the California communicator, passed the order to Glenn to retain the retropack 

until he was over the Texas tracking station. 41 

Meanwhile Glenn was preparing for reentry. Keeping the retrorocket package on meant that he had to retract the periscope manually and activate the .05-g 

sequence by pushing the override switch. Then, while nearing the California coastline, a little more than four hours and 33 minutes after launch, the spacecraft 

assumed its critical retrofire attitude alignment and the first retrorocket fired. 

"Boy, feels like I'm going halfway back to Hawaii," Glenn reported. Seconds 

later, in orderly succession, the two remaining rockets executed the braking process. 

The attitude controls maintained spacecraft position exactly throughout the retrofire sequence; about six minutes after the first retrorocket fired, Glenn carefully 

pitched the conical end of the spacecraft up to the correct, 14-degree negativepitch attitude for its downward plunge through the atmosphere. 

Now came one of the most dramatic and critical moments in all of Project 

Mercury. In the Mercury Control Center, at the tracking stations, and on the 

recovery ships ringing the globe, engineers, technicians, physicians, recovery personnel, and fellow astronauts stood nervously, stared at their consoles, and listened to 

the communications circuits. Was the segment 51 reading on the landing bag and 

431 
The whole Mercury team felt itself on trial and awaited its verdict. 

Glenn and Friendship 7 slowed down during their long reentry glide over th

continental United States toward the hoped-for splashdown in the Atlantic. Th

Corpus Christi station told Glenn to retain the retropack until the g meter befor

him read 1.5. Busily involved with his control problems, Glenn reported over th

Cape that he had been handling the capsule manually and would use the fly-by

wire control mode as a backup. Mercury Control then gave him the .05-g mark

and the pilot punched the override button, saying later that he seemed to be in th

fring.es of the g field before he pushed. Almost immediately Glenn heard noise

that sounded like "small things brushing against the capsule." "That's a real fire

ball outside," he radioed the Cape, with a trace of anxiety perhaps evident in hi

tone. Then a strap from the retropackage swung around and fluttered over th

window, and he saw smoke as the whole apparatus was consumed. Although hi

control system seemed to be holding well, his manual fuel supply was down to 1

percent, with the deceleration peak still to come. So he switched to fly-by-wir

and the automatic tank supply.45 

Friendship 7 came now to the most fearful and fateful point of its voyage. Th

terrific frictional heat of reentry enveloped the capsule, and Glenn experienced h

worst emotional stress of the flight. "I thought the retropack had jettisoned an

saw chunks coming off and flying by the window," he said later. He feared tha

the chunks were pieces of his ablation protection, that the heatshield might be di

integrating, but he knew there was nothing to gain from stopping work.46 

Shortly after passing the peak g region, the spacecraft began oscillating s

severely that Glenn could not control the ship manually. Friendship 7 swung fa

past the "tolerable" 10 degrees on both sides of the zero-degree point. "I felt lik

a falling leaf," Glenn would recall. So he cut in the auxiliary damping system

which helped to stabilize the large yaw and roll rates to a more comfortable leve

Fuel in the automatic tank~, however, was getting low. Obviously the heatshiel

had stayed in place; Glenn was still alive. But now he wondered whether his cap

sule would remain stable down to an altitude at which the drogue parachute coul

be deployed safely. 

The pilot's fears proved real when both fuel supplies ran dry. Automatic fu

gave out at 111 seconds, and manual fuel depleted at 51 seconds, before the drogu

deployment. The oscillations rapidly resumed, and at about 35,000 feet Glen

decided he had better try to deploy the drogue manually lest the spacecraft flip ov

into an antenna-downward instead of a heatshield-downward position. But ju

as he lifted his hand toward the switch, the drogue automatically shot out at 28,00

feet instead of the nominal 21,000. Suddenly the spacecraft straightened out and

as Glenn reported, "everything was in good shape." 4i 

432 
and film that he could see very little. The spacecraft stabilized in its descent; the 

antenna section jettisoned; and Glenn, with immense relief, watched the main 

chute stream out, reef, and blossom. The florida control center reminded Glenn 

to deploy the landing bag. He flipped the switch, saw the green light confirmation, 

and felt a comforting "clunk" as the shield and impact bag dropped into position 

four feet below the capsule. Glenn watched the ocean coming up to meet him and 

braced as the gap closed. Jolted by an impact that was more reassuring than 

stunning, he bobbed in the water, checked his watertight integrity, and relayed his 

elation that a successful MA-6 mission seemed assured. 48 

Friendship 7 had splashed into the Atlantic about 40 miles short of the predicted area, as retrofire calculations had not taken into account the spacecraft's 

weight loss in consumables. The N oa, a destroyer code-named Steelhead, 

had spotted the spacecraft during its descent. From a distance of about six 

miles the destroyer radioed Glenn that it could reach him shortly. Seventeen minutes later, the N oa cruised alongside; a sailor smartly cleared the spacecraft antenna; and Boatswain's Mate David Bell deftly attached a davit line for pickup. 

During the hoist upward the spacecraft bumped solidly against the side of the 

destroyer. Once Friendship 7 was lowered to the mattress pallet, Glenn began 

removing paneling, intending to leave the capsule through the upper hatch. But it 

was too hot, and the operation was too slow for the already long day. So he told 

the ship's crew to stand clear, carefully removed the hatch detonator, and hit the 

plunger with the back of his hand. The plunger recoiled, cutting Glenn's knuckles 

slightly through his glove and giving him the only injury he received during the 

whole mission. A loud report indicated that the hatch was off. Eager hands 

pulled out the smiling astronaut, whose first words were "It was hot in there." 

Lieutenant Commander Robert Mulin of the Navy and Captain Gene McIver 

of the Army, physicians assigned to the Mercury recovery team, described Glenn 

as being hot, sweating profusely, and fatigued. He was lucid but not loquacious, 

thirsty but not hungry. After drinking a glass of water and showering, he became 

more talkative. Asked if he felt any "stomach uneasiness" either during the 

flight or while he lolled the 17 minutes in the floating spacecraft waiting for 

pickup, Glenn admitted only to some "stomach awareness," beginning after he 

was down on the water. But there was no nausea, and the examining physicians 

assured themselves that Glenn's condition was caused by heat, humidity, and 

some dehydration. He had lost five pounds, five ounces from his preflight weight 

of 1 71 pounds, seven ounces. He had consumed the equivalent of only 94 cubic 

centimeters of water, in the form of applesauce puree, during the flight, while 

his urine output was 800 cubic centimeters. He also had perspired profusely 

while awaiting pickup. 

Glenn's temperature an hour after landing was 99.2 degrees, or only a degree 

433 
abrasions on the knuckles, caused by opening the hatch. By the time President 

Kennedy called his personal congratulations by radio telephone to Glenn aboard 

the N oa, the "wonderful trip-almost unbelievable" was over, Glenn was safe and 

sound, and 100 million American television viewers had happily ceased their 

vigil. 

After recording on tape a "self-debriefing" aboard the Noa, Glenn was transferred to the carrier Randolph, where his chest was x-rayed, an electrocardiogram 

was made, and the initial phase of the technical debriefing was started. From 

there the astronaut was transported to Grand Turk Island, where a much more 

thorough physical began about 9: 30 p.m., under the direction of Carmault B. 

Jackson, assistant to Flight Surgeon Douglas. February 20, 1962, proved to be 

"a long day at the office" for Glenn. After exhaustive tests and observations 

the attending physicians could find no adverse effects from Glenn's threefold 

circumnavigation in space. Technical debriefings continued for two days on the 

island and then moved to the Cape for another day's session. 

The postflight analysis of Glenn's use of the three-axis handcontroller during 

reentry showed that about half of the thrust pulses he initiated opposed the direction of spacecraft motion, as they were supposed to. But the other half of the 

handcontroller movements either reinforced oscillating motions or had no net 

damping effect. The issue of "pilot-induced error" was picked up by some 

newsmen and reported as a controversy rather than a problem. 

N ow that the primary objectives of Project Mercury had been achieved at 

last in grand style, the drive for perfection in performance, so indispensable to 

manned space flight, still did not slow down. 49 

THE HERO 

The American reaction to this country's first manned orbital flight was a 

mixture of relief, pride, and exaltation. From the Rose Garden at the White 

House, President Kennedy echoed the sentiments of the Nation: 50 

I know that I express the great happiness and thanksgiving of all of us 

that Colonel Glenn has completed his trip, and I know that this is particularly 

felt by Mrs. Glenn and his two children. 

I also want to say a word for all of those who participated with Colonel 

Glenn at Canaveral. They faced many disappointments and delays-the 

burdens upon them were great-but they kept their heads and they made a 

judgment, and I think their judgment has been vindicated .. 

We have a long way to go in this space race.- But this is the new ocean, 

and I believe the United States must sail on it and be in a position second to 

none. 

434 
p

gp y g , 

favorable balance of power existed was evident in the African newspapers. West

ern Europeans were pleased with the openness of the undertaking, with the fact

frequently mentioned, that the United States had not used this momentous even

to intimidate either opponent or neutral, and that the astronaut had kept hi

inflight remarks strictly apolitical. Numerous expressions of hope were voiced

as Khrushchev suggested and Kennedy repeated that Russians and American

could enter into some sort of cooperative space program. 51 

The men of NASA, the Defense Department, and the aerospace industry 

viewed the feat more prosaically. They realized something of its impact on 

mankind, but most of their pride stemmed from the smooth-working demonstra

tion of their space hardware and the recovery forces in action. And their in

terest quickly returned to the tasks of full exploitation of men and machines for 

Mercury. 

Those who in the past had been the targets of technical kibitzing, domestic 

skepticism, and political pressure now were lauded by the American press for 

having "stuck by their guns." Periodicals praised Hugh L. Dryden, Robert R

Gilruth, Williams, Faget, Kraft, George M. Low, and Hartley A. Soule, the 

"leaders of this technical team who did their work on civil service pay and sold 

no serial rights to national magazines ...." 52 

The MA-6 honors and celebrations consumed several days. Glenn, his 

family, Vice-President Johnson, and the Mercury entourage passed in review on 

February 26 before an estimated 250,000 people lining rainy streets in Washington, after which the astronaut gave a 20-minute informal report to a join

session of Congress. New York City proclaimed March 1 " John Glenn Day," 

and Mayor Robert Wagner presented medals to Glenn and Gilruth. The nex

day there was an informal reception in honor of the orbiting American at United 

Nations Headquarters. Glenn then journeyed to his home town, New Concord 

(population 2300), Ohio, where about 75,000 greeted him on March 3. 

While everyone else feted Glenn, Mercury and contractor engineers at the 

Cape subjected his spaceship to a minute examination. Except for the usua

discoloration, the interior and exterior of the capsule were in excellent condition

In several places where there were separations between the shingles, deposits of 

aluminum alloy had accumulated from the disintegration of the retrorocke

package during reentry. A brownish film of undetermined origin covered the exterior surface of the window. Heatshield slices and cores showed about the same 

minor char depth found after the MA-4 and MA-5 missions; the center plug 

was sticking out about half an inch. There was also a wedge-shaped darker 

area on the shield) striated by several radial marks about four inches long, which 

the inspectors theorized was caused by the slipping retropack. The investigation 

435 
were several tears in the landing bag, caused either by impact or retrieval handling, 

for the first time no cables or straps in the landing system were broken. And 

while the lower pressure bulkhead again was slightly damaged, the equipment 

there escaped harm. 53 

After this thorough postflight analysis, Glenn's spacecraft, McDonnell capsule No. 13, went on a global tour, popularly known as the "fourth orbit of Friendship 7." Literally millions of people stood patiently in line to look inside the 

spacecraft as it was exhibited in 17 countries and Hawaii. By August 1962 

Friendship 7 had reached the "Century 21 Exposition" at Seattle. There, thousands more viewed the craft that had carried man on an orbital journey through 

space. Finally, on the first anniversary of its voyage, Friendship 7 came officially 

to rest near the Wright Brothers' original airplane and Lindbergh's Spirit of St. 

Louis in the Smithsonian Institution. 54 

PROGRAM GROWTH 

The dramatic series of events surrounding the MA-6 mission tended to obscure 

what was happening elsewhere in the national space program. While Project 

Mercury finally was fulfilling its prime objective, NASA picked the launch vehicle 

for its Apollo program. Headquarters announced on January 9, 1962, that a 

"Super Saturn" (also known as "Advanced Saturn" and "Saturn C-5") would be 

the Moon program rocket. The Saturn was then described as being as tall as a 

27 -story building generating 7.5 million pounds of thrust in its first stage, which 

would make it about 20 times more powerful than the Atlas. On January 25, the 

Marshall Space Flight Center received orders from NASA Headquarters to develop 

this booster that could support manned circumlunar flights and manned lunar 

landings. The Saturn was to place 120 tons in low-Earth orbit or send 45 tons of 

spacecraft toward the Moon. At the same time, the public got its first view of 

drawings of the Apollo and Gemini spacecraft. 55 

When the House Committee on Science and Astronautics opened its annual 

budget hearings on February 27, 1962, among the first witnesses to testify were 

John Glenn, Alan Shepard, and Virgil Grissom. Representative George P. Miller 

of California, chairman of the committee, introduced the three as "men who have 

been closest to the angels and still remain on Earth." All committee members 

expressed their satisfaction with the management of Project Mercury, and they 

reminded NASA that the agency was the committee's protege. Every tax dollar 

required to make Project Mercury and the rest of the civilian space program a success so far had resulted from the committee's study, approval, and authorization. 56 

436 
Above) President Kennedy rides with 

Glenn and Gen. Leighton I. Davis at 

Cocoa Beach. At right) Glenn talks 

to a joint session of the Congress in 

Washington. Below right) Glenn) 

his wife) and Vice-President Lyndon 

B. Johnson are welcomed by 4 million in New York. Finally) in Washington (below)) Friendship 7 is pr{!­

sented to the Smithsonian Institution. 

Shown here are Senator Clinton P. 

Anderson) Glenn) and NASA Deputy Administrator Hugh L. Dryden. 
Astronauts Grissom) Shepard) and Glenn testify before House Committee on 

Science and Astronautics on February 28) 1962. Standing behind them are 

(left to right) R epresentatives K en Hechler) Alphonzo Bell) and Perkins Bass, 

and Paul D embling) Director) NASA Office of Legislative Affairs. 

After the astronauts had made brief statements and answered some questions 

posed by the committee members, Administrator James E. Webb outlined the 

NASA budget request for fiscal year 1963. The total NASA request was for 

$3,787,276,000, of which $2.26 billion was earmarked for developing Gemini and 

Apollo and for further exploration with Mercury in manned space flight. Robert 

Gilruth testified about the Mercury portion of NASA's undertaking. By August 

1962, when Congress passed the authorization bill, the NASA appropriation had 

been pruned to $3,644,115,000. This reduction included $90 million from research, development, and operational requests, and about $52.8 million asked for 

construction of new facilities. But the total NASA money bill, coupled with almost 

$1 billion that the Department of Defense received for its space projects, meant 

that the Nation was going to spend almost $5 billion annually on its space efforts.57 

The second phase of the Space Age seemed about to commence. 

438 
f

H q. and other elements of the 

Government) and between STG 

and its contractors occupied much 

of the time of operating and staff 

personnel. At right is a typical 

preflight briefing) this one taking 

place at the Ai; Force Ballistic Missile Division for personnel of BMD) 

SSD) and Aerospace Corp.)' involved in this particular discussion 

are) left to right) Christopher C. Kraft of STG) Byron G. McNabb of General Dynamics/Astronautics) and Bernhard A. Hohmann of Aerospace Corp. And in the 

tense atmosphere of Mercury Control during a flight) communication was at a premium. 

Below) in the front row of the VIP viewing room at Mercury Control) George Low of 

NASA Hq. leans forward to make notes for the report that he forwarded to the NASA 

Administrator immediately after every Mercury mission)' next to him D. Brainerd 

Holmes) NASA Deputy Associate Administrator for Manned Space Flight) and Robert 

R. Gilruth) Director of STG) listen to the flight narration and watch the display board. 
offices. Kenneth S. Kleinknecht, a former leader in NASA

s X-15 project and 

technical assistant on Gilruth's staff since January 11, 1960, was picked to manage 

the completion of Mercury's program. Under its charter, the Mercury Project 

Office was "responsible for the technical direction of the McDonnell Aircraft Corporation and other industrial contractors assigned work on the Mercury Project." 58 

Project Office staffing and division of duties had been completed by the end of 

January. Kleinknecht chose William Bland, who had been associated with numerous engineering phases of the manned satellite enterprise since its inception, as 

his deputy. The internal labor divisions of the Office were: Project Engineering 

Office, Project Engineering Field Office (Cape), Engineering Operations Office, 

and Engineering and Data Measurements Office. At the outset, 42 people worked 

in the Project Office primarily on scheduling, procurement, and technical monitoring tasks. The similar management organizations set up for the Gemini and 

Apollo programs had James A. Chamberlin (manager of Mercury until the inception of Project Gemini) and Charles W. Frick as their managers, respectively. 59 

Moving MSC from tidewater Virginia to the Gulf Coast of Texas could have 

had adverse effects on its staffing. Quite a number of the employees had long 

years of service with NACA and its successor NASA, and had established deep 

personal roots at Langley and around Hampton, Virginia. Now they would 

be uprooted and transplanted some 1500 miles away in Texas. Many would face 

inconvenience and monetary and personal losses resulting from the transfer. 

Stuart H. Clarke, chief of the Personnel Office of MSC, polled the staff to determine how many favored the move. Of 1152 employees, only 84 indicated that 

they would not gO.60 Gilruth and Williams decided that while people, records, 

and equipment were being transferred, the operational and Mercury Project Office 

activities should remain at Langley to prevent the disruption of Project Mercury's 

flight planning. This meant that management in Mercury would be directed from 

Langley at least through Mercury-Atlas 7. 61 

THE SLAYTON CASE 

Donald K. Slayton and Walter M. Schirra, pilot and backup, respectively, for 

Mercury-Atlas 7, had been in training side by side with Glenn and Carpenter since 

the team announcements were made after the MA-5 flight. On March 15, 

1962, NASA announced that Slayton, because of an "erratic heart rate," had been 

replaced by Carpenter as the pilot for MA-7. The suddenness of this announcement surprised almost everyone, especially journalists who had begun turning out 

"human interest" copy about Slayton. The obvious question was: How could an 

astronaut, supposedly a perfect physical specimen, develop, of all things, a heart 

440 
condition medically termed as idiopathic atrial fibrillation-occasional irregularity 

of a muscle at the top of the heart, caused by unknown factors-when the astro

nauts first rode the centrifuge in August 1959 at Johnsville. Douglas noted Slay

ton was performing his tasks in magnificent fashion, but he still thought it best to 

consult with the chief of cardiology service at the Philadelphia Navy Hospital

The consultant assured Slayton and Douglas that the condition was of no conse

quence and should not influence Slayton's eventual choice as a flight astronaut

The astronaut's physician did not accept this appraisal as a final diagnostic de

cision. He and Slayton visited the Air Force's School of Aviation Medicine in 

San Antonio, Texas, where a member of the internal medicine staff voiced th

same OpInIOn. Sometime later Douglas learned that this individual wrote to 

Administrator James E. Webb, making a recommendation that Slayton should 

not be assigned a flight. 

After sojourns at various medical centers, Douglas informed Mercury Directo

Gilruth of Slayton's condition during the fall of 1959. Gilruth, in tum, briefed 

NASA Headquarters in Washington. Douglas also relayed the information to th

Air Force Surgeon General's office and was advised to take no action. For som

time thereafter the "Slayton file" lay dormant. The astronaut was selected as 

pilot in November 1961 and began training for his flight. 

Shortly after the beginning of the new year, NASA Administrator Webb

remembering the dissenting vote he had received from an Air Force physician

and, mindful of the fact that Slayton was an Air Force officer on loan, directed 

a complete reevaluation of the case. In response Douglas called together Stanle

White, William S. Augerson, and James P. Henry, physicians assigned to the Mer

cury program, to study the matter in detail. Their considered recommendation 

was that Slayton should continue as the pilot for MA-7. From MSC, Dougla

journeyed to Washington to brief Brigadier General Charles H. Roadman and 

Colonel George M. Knauf, Chief and Deputy Chief of the Office of Space Medi

cine in NASA Headquarters. These doctors also recommended that Slayton re

main on space flight status. The reopening of the case was brought to th

attention of the Air Force Surgeon General, who convened a board of eight fligh

surgeons to review the matter. The MSC physician appeared before that body

presenting it with every facet of the medical file. Slayton also appeared. The 

board judged Slayton to be "fully qualified as an Air Force pilot and as an 

astrona u t." 

Administrator Webb referred the case to a group of three nationally eminen

cardiologists-Proctor Harvey, professor of cardiology, Georgetown University

Thomas Mattingly, heart specialist, Washington Hospital Center; and Eugen

Braunwall, National Institutes of Health. Their consensus was that they were 

441 
would like to subject Slayton to some physiological tests. 

Asked several years later if he had known about his heart condition when 

he was chosen for Project Mercury, Slayton replied: 63 

No, I didn't, but in the examinations prior to the August 1959 centrifuge 

program at AMAL the medics discovered that my heart skipped a beat now 

and then. I went ahead with the centrifuge runs and began to watch myself 

very closely, noticing that quite often after supper my pulse would be irregular. 

I would get out and run a mile and everything was nonnal again. I was 

terribly concerned over what in my diet might be causing it, but every hypothesis turned up wrong. Concern in STG and even NASA Headquarters got 

so great in 1960 that I was sent to all kinds of exhaustive examinations under 

the best heart specialists in the country-in Philadelphia, San Antonio, and 

New York City. I was examined by different groups of heart specialists who 

could find nothing wrong. Even Paul Dudley White, Ike's personal physician, 

gave me a clean bill of health but rendered an operational rather than a diagnostic decision, recommending that the unknown factor in my heart munnur 

not be added to all the other unknowns for manned space flight. 

The Slayton decision was irrevocable, even though Gilruth and William 

Douglas disagreed with the high-level medical verdict. Slayton, they felt, had 

withstood greater stresses in the training program than he would have experienced 

had he been rocketed into orbit. On the other hand, Administrator Webb, 

because of the unknown elements, concurred with the cardiologists that it was 

neither safe nor politic to subject an individual who had a heart condition, however slight, to the stresses of orbital flight when there were other flight-trained 

astronauts available. 

Shortly after the replacement, Douglas, having completed a three-year tour 

of detached duty with NASA, returned to his career service, the Air Force. Some 

newsmen were quick to conclude that this action suggested bitterness. They had 

not known that Douglas had been mvited to the medical hearings but had known 

that Douglas had been outspoken in his opposition to Slayton's removal from 

flight status. Stanley White denied the charge in a news conference, maintaining that Douglas' return to the Air Force had been arranged for "better than six 

months." 64 Of the original team of astronauts, Slayton had been considered 

the professional test pilot par excellence, largely because of his overwhelming experience and flight time. He soon became the coordinator of astronaut activities. 

He never abandoned hope that he still might make a space flight. As late as 

December 1964, more than a year and a half after Project Mercury had completed its last flight and when Project Gemini was nearing its first manned flight, 

the unlucky astronaut remarked, "I've never been grounded and I'm not now. 

I still hope to get my chance to go beyond the atmosphere." 

442 
in view of the numerous delays and consequent lengthy training preparation

for MA-6, Williams, as the operations team leader, recommended to Gilruth tha

Carpenter, Glenn's backup pilot, was most primed for the upcoming mission

Carpenter had logged 7912 hours of preflight checkout and training time i

Glenn's Friendship 7, more than twice the 3112 hours he would spend in his ow

Aurora 7 for the same purposes. 6 5 

Although Glenn's mission had been highly successful, the Mercury operation

team was still in the learning process. Experience with a component in th

Mercury capsule or a flight procedure during the MA-6 orbital flight served t

guide MA-7 mission planning. Glenn had shown that man definitely could b

more than just a passenger, so the MSC planners adjusted the MA-7 flight pla

to allow more pilot control of the mission. Combined yaw-roll maneuvers wer

scheduled to permit observation of the sunrise, as well as maneuvers to determin

the use of day and night horizons, landmarks, and stars as navigation references

One of the more interesting planned innovations for Carpenter's voyage involve

a period of inverted flight (head toward Earth) to determine the effect of Earth

up and sky-down on pilot orientation. Flight planners recognized the nee

for perceptual reorientation in space flight as well as for the motor skills that ha

been demonstrated so well by Glenn. The next Mercury mission ought to be a

much of a scientific experiment as possible, not only to corroborate MA-6 bu

also to explore new possibilities with the manned Mercury spacecraft. 66 

Since Glenn had been able to respond to many of the scientific astronomica

observation requests, Homer Newell, who had been Director of NASA's Offic

of Space Sciences since November 1, 1961, decided that the direction of the scien

tific portion of the manned space flight program should now become the responsi

bility of a formal committee. Jocelyn Gill again was chosen to serve as chairman 

of a group called the Ad Hoc Committee on Scientific Tasks and Training fo

Man-in-Space. Two days after receiving the mandate, Dr. Gill called a meetin

of members, consisting of representatives from the various scientific disciplines

on March 16, 1962, to outline objectives, review past activities in this respect

present a preliminary analysis of the scientific debriefing of Glenn, and outlin

tasks and goals for the next meeting. One of the aims of the new committee wa

to devise a curriculum that would provide the astronauts with the best informa

tional sources available about the spatial phenomena they might see. In addition 

to this, they proceeded to suggest several experiments to the Manned Spacecraf

Center. 67 

So without jeopardizing either pilot safety or mission success, the MA-7 

flight would be designed to yield as much scientific, as opposed to engineering

information as possible. Kleinknecht, head of the MSC Mercury Project Office

443 
terms of their scientific value, relative priority, and suitability for orbital flight. 

The Fisher panel first met at Cape Canaveral on April 24, 1962, and decided 

to emphasize five suggested experiments: releasing a multi-colored balloon that 

would remain tethered to the capsule, observing the behavior of liquid in a 

weightless state inside a closed glass bottle, using a special light meter to determine 

the visibility of a ground flare, making weather photographs with hand-held 

cameras, and studying the airglow layer for which Carpenter would receive speCIa! trammg. The tethered balloon was a 30-inch mylar inflatable sphere, which 

wa'; folded, packaged, and housed with its gas expansion bottle in the antenna 

canister. The whole balloon package weighed two pounds. Divided into five 

sections of different colors-uncolored aluminum, yellow, orange, white, and a 

phosphorescent coating that appeared white by day and blue by night-the balloon was to be cast off near perigee after the first orbital pass to float freely at the 

end of a 100-foot nylon line. The purposes of the balloon experiment were to 

study the effects of space on the reflection properties of colored surfaces through 

visual observation and photographic studies and to obtain aerodynamic drag 

measurements by use of a strain gauge. 69 

Some experimentation on the effects of reduced gravity on liquids previously 

had been conducted at Holloman Air Force Base, at the Air Force School of 

Aviation Medicine in San Antonio, and at the Lewis Research Center. But the 

duration of these experiments, involving parabolic airplane flights and drop-tower 

tests, had been necessarily short. Results of an extended study would have both 

immediate and long-range implications in manned space flight operations. 

Already the problem of gas or fuel vapor ullage in space vehicles and in storage 

tanks was causing some difficulties, and later there would be related problems 

in orbital rendezvous fuel transfer. Before fuel tanks and pumps for extended 

use in space could be designed, the behavior of surface tension and capillary 

action of liquids in the weightless state had to be determined. For this experiment the Lewis Center provided a small glass sphere containing a capillary tube 

with tiny semicircular holes at the bottom of the open tube. The sphere, only 

20 percent filled, contained 60 milliliters of a mixture of distilled water, green 

dye, aerosol solution, and silicone. The liquid had a surface tension of 32 dynes 

per centimeter on Earth. 

The Massachusetts Institute of Technology requested photographs of the daylight horizon through blue and red filters to define more precisely the Earthhorizon limb as seen from above the atmosphere. These findings would be particularly valuable for navigation studies in the Apollo program. The Weather 

Bureau wanted information on the best wavelengths for meteorological satellite 

photography. John A. O'Keefe and Jocelyn Gill at the Goddard Space Flight 

444 
, , qp

photography of the North American and Mrican land masses. Lowman's intere

was based on his studies of planetary surfaces, particularly regarding meteoro

impact features.ITo 

A number of technical changes based on MA-6 mission results were made f

MA-7, mqstly involving deletions of certain equipment from the spacecraft 

reduce weight. Kleinknecht's office eliminated the sofar bombs and radar cha

recovery aids, which seemed unnecessary in view of the effectiveness that ha

been demonstrated by the sarah beacon and dye markers. Other deletions i

cluded the knee and chest stntps ·on the couch, which had bothered Grissom; t

red filter in the window; the moderately heavy Earth-path indicator; and th

instrument panel camera, which had already gathered sufficient data. 

Modifications made to improve spacecraft, network, and astronaut perform

ance included a radio frequency change in the telemetry system to eradica

transmission interference like that experienced on Glenn's flight. The tw

landing-bag switches were rewired so that both had to be closed to activa

the deploy signal. To correct temporarily the control problem experienced b

Glenn, Karl F. Greil of the Mercury Project Office studied masses of data and co

cluded that the problem lay in the fuel line filters. So the dutch-weave filte

in the fuel lines were replaced with platinum screens, and a stainless-steel fu

line was substituted. This was intended as an "interim fix," but it became perm

nent in the Mercury project for the later flights. Even the astronaut's atti

underwent some modifications. Pockets were added on the upper sleeves and o

the lower legs of the pressure suit for pencils, a handkerchief, and other sma

accessories. And the waterwing life vest, first carried by Glenn, was installe

on the chest beneath the parabolic mirror. To add to Carpenter's comfort whi

he was waiting in his capsule on the launch pad, a new and more resilient lin

was fitted in the couch. n 

The three principal components of the MA-7 mission-spacecraft, launc

rocket, and astronaut-were in preparation for several months. Spacecraft N

18 was the first of these to reach the Cape, arriving on November 15, 196

During its long checkout period by G. Merritt Preston's crew, this vehicle w

reworked twice to incorporate lessons learned during MA-5 and MA-6. Som

equipment and systems in the capsule had to be exchanged because what it ha

carried to Florida simply did not work properly. The original periscope, f

example, failed to latch in the retracted position. Glenn's drogue p'arachu

mortar supposedly had fired before the pilot triggered its button; the McDonne

engineers decided that a barostat in the recovery arming circuit should preve

another premature action. Since there still were questions concerning the temper

ture at different places on the capsule while it was in orbit, a device known as 

445 
Carpenter named his capsule Aurora 7. He chose this name deliberately, "Because I think of Project Mercury and the open manner in which we are conducting 

it for the benefit of all as a light in the sky. Aurora also means dawn-in this 

case the dawn of a new age. The 7, of course, stands for the original seven 

astronauts." Coincidentally, the astronaut as a boy had lived at the corner of 

Aurora and Seventh Avenues in Boulder, Colorado. 

The Atlas, the astronaut, and the ground support personnel entered into their 

final preparatory phase in March 1962. On March 8, six days after the Air 

Force accepted it at the rollout inspection at the Convair factory in San Diego, 

Atlas 107-D arrived at the Cape and was erected on the pad. Since the previous 

Atlas had performed well in boosting Glenn into orbit and since the MA-7 launch 

requirements were to duplicate those of MA-6, few changes were necessary for 

107-D. One alteration was a slight reduction in the staging time, from 131.3 to 

130.1 seconds after liftoff, to improve the launch vehicle's ability to reach the 

precise center of the insertion "window." 73 Intensive training for the astronaut, 

his backup, and the tracking teams on the MA-7 mission began on March 16. 

Mission simulations, flight controller training, and an exercise of the Defense Department recovery forces proceeded much as they had for MA-6. The Atlantic 

tracking ship, however, was not on station for MA-7 because she was at a Baltimore shipyard, being converted into a command ship to support the longerduration Mercury missions.14 

At the time of Glenn's flight, the launch of MA-7 had been scheduled for 

the second week in April, but the installation of new components, such as the 

temperature survey instrumentation and the barostat in the drogue parachute 

circuit, as well as other work, delayed the launching until May. Also contributing 

to the postponement was an Atlantic Fleet tactical exercise that required participation by the recovery ships and aircraft for several weeks. The week beginning 

May 20 looked the most feasible for sending a second American into orbit. 75 

FLIGHT OF Aurora 7 

At 1 : 15 a.m., May 24, 1962, Scott Carpenter was awakened in his quarters 

in Hangar S at Cape Canaveral. He ate a breakfast of filet mignon, poached 

eggs, strained orange juice, toast, and coffee, prepared by his dietitian. During 

the next hour, starting about 2: 15 a.m., he had a physical examination and stood 

patiently in his underwear as the sensors were attached at various spots on his 

lean body, and by 3: 25 he had donned his silver suit and had it checked. Everything had gone so smoothly that Carpenter had time to relax in a contour chair 

while waiting to board the van. 

446 
Weather Bureau representative presented a briefing to the astronaut-of-the-da

predicting a dispersal of the ground fog then hovering around the launch sit

Finally, at 4: 35, Carpenter received word from Mercury Control to ascend th

gantry. Just before he boarded the elevator he stopped to swap greetings wit

and to thank the flight support crewmen. After the final checks in the gantr

white room, the astronaut crawled into the capsule and got settled with on

minor difficulties, and soon the capsule crew was bolting the hatch. This tim

all 70 bolts were aligned properly.7G 

Meanwhile the booster countdown was racing along. Christopher Kraft r

called that the countdown was "as near perfect as could be hoped for." The on

thing complicating the prelaunch sequence was the persistent ground fog an

broken cloudiness at dawn. Strapped in the contour couch, and finding the ne

couch liner comfortable, Carpenter was busy verifying his preflight checklist. Ju

11 minutes before the scheduled launch time, the operations team decided th

adequate camera coverage was not yet possible, and three consecutive I5-minu

holds were called. Although Carpenter felt that he could continue in a hold statu

indefinitely, he was thirsty and drank some cold tea from his squeeze bottle suppl

During the holds he talked with his wife Rene and their four children at the Cap

assuring them that all was well. 77 

The rising sun rapidly dispelled the ground fog. Then at 7: 45 a.m., after th

smoothest countdown of an American manned space mission to date, Mercury

Atlas 7, bearing Aurora 7) rose majestically off the pad while some 40 millio

people watched by television.78 

Kraft, the flight director, described the powered phase of the flight as so "ex

cellent" that the decision to "go-for-mission" was almost routine. Seventy-thre

seconds from launch, the booster's radio inertial guidance system locked on an

directed the flight from staging until T plus 5 : 38 minutes. Actually this amounte

to some 28 seconds after the Atlas sustainer engine had died, but no guidance inpu

were possible after engine shutdown. Carpenter tried using the parabolic mirro

on his chest to watch the booster's programming, but he could see only a reflectio

of the pitch attitude. At about 35,000 feet he noticed out his window a contrai

and then an airplane producing another contrail. The sky began to darken; it w

not yet black, but it was no longer a light blue. 

The booster performed much more quietly than Carpenter had expected fro

all its awesome power. Vibration had been slight at liftoff. Booster engine cuto

was smooth and gentle, but a few seconds later the noise accompanying maximu

aerodynamic stress began to build up. A wisp of smoke that appeared out th

window gave Carpenter the impression that the escape tower had jettisoned, bu

a glance showed that it was still there. Shortly thereafter, when the tower di

separate from the capsule, Carpenter "felt a bigger jolt than at staging." H

447 
rockets had propelled the spacecraft clear of the booster. Now Aurora 7 was on 

its own and in space. Becoming immediately aware that he was weightless, Carpenter elatedly reported that zero g was pleasant. Just as the capsule and booster 

separated, the astronaut had noticed that the capillary tube in his liquid-test apparatus seemed to fill. Then he averted his gaze; it was time to turn the spacecraft 

around to its normal backward flying orbital attitude. Since Glenn had left this 

maneuver to the automatic control system and the cost in fuel had been high, 

Carpenter used fly-by-wire. The spacecraft came smartly around at an expense 

of only 1.6 pounds of fuel, compared with over 5 pounds used on Glenn's MA-6 

maneuver. 80 

As the capsule swung around from antenna-canister-forward to heatshieldforward, Carpenter was impressed by the fact that he felt absolutely no angular 

motion; his instruments provided the only evidence that the turnaround maneuver 

was being executed. Like Glenn, he was amazed that he felt no sensation of speed, 

although he knew he was traveling at orbital velocity (actually 17,549 miles per 

hour). Soon he had his first awe-inspiring view of the horizon-"an arresting 

sight," as he described it. Quickly checking his control systems, he found everything in order. Unknown to him, however, the horizon scanner optically sensing 

his spacecraft's pitch attitude was off by about 20 degrees. It was some time 

before he deduced this system was in error. 

As Glenn had done, Carpenter peered out the window to track the spent Atlas 

sustainer engine. The tankage appeared to fall downward, as the engineers had 

predicted, and was tumbling away slowly. A trail of ice crystals two or three 

times longer than the launch vehicle streamed from its nozzle. Over the Canary 

Islands, Carpenter still could see the sustainer tagging along below the spacecraft. Meanwhile the astronaut continued to check the capsule systems and report 

his findings to the tracking sites. Over Kano, in mid-Nigeria, he said that he was 

getting behind in his flight plan because of difficulty in loading his camera with the 

special film to photograph the Earth-horizon limb. Before he moved beyond 

radio range of Kano, however, he managed to snap a few photographs. Although 

it was now almost dusk on his first "45-minute day," Carpenter was becoming increasingly warm and began adjusting his suit-temperature knob. 81 

Over the Indian Ocean on his first pass, Carpenter glanced down for a view 

through the periscope, which he found to be quite ineffective on the dark side of 

Earth. Concluding that the periscope seemed to be useless at night, he returned 

to the window for visual references. Even when the gyros were caged and he was 

not exactly sure of his attitude position, he felt absolutely no sensation of disorientation; it was a simple matter in the daylight to roll the spacecraft over and watch for 

a landmark to pop into view. Carpenter mentioned many recognizable land448 
While over the Indian Ocean, Carpenter discovered that his celestial observations were hampered by glare from light seepage around the satellite clock inside 

the capsule. The light from the rim of the clock, which should presumably have 

been screened, made it hard for him to adjust his eyes to night vision. To Slayton 

at the Muchea station, Carpenter reported that he could see no more stars from his 

vantage point in space than he could have seen on Earth. Also he said that the 

stars were not particularly useful in gaining heading information. 83 

Like his orbital predecessor, Carpenter failed to see the star-shell flares fired 

in an observation experiment. This time the flares shot up from the Great Victoria Desert near Woomera, Australia, rather than from the Indian Ocean ship. 

According to the plan, four flares of one-million candlepower were to be launched 

for Carpenter's benefit on his first orbit, and three more each on his second and 

third passes. On the first try the flares, each having a burning time of 1 Y2 minutes, were ignited at 60-second intervals. At this time most of the Woomera area 

was covered by clouds that hid the illumination of the flares; the astronaut consequently saw nothing and the experiment was discontinued on the succeeding two 

passes, as weather conditions did not improve. 84 

Out over the Pacific on its first circuit, Aurora 7 performed nicely. The Canton Island station received the telemetered body temperature reading of 102 degrees 

and asked Carpenter if he was uncomfortable at that temperature. "No, I don't 

believe that's correct," Carpenter replied. "I can't imagine I'm that hot. I'm 

quite comfortable, but sweating some." The medical monitors accepted Carpenter's self-assessment and concluded that the feverish temperature reading resulted 

from an error in the equipment. For the rest of the journey, however, the elevated 

temperatures persisted, causing the various communicators to ask frequently about 

Carpenter's physical status.85 

The food Carpenter carried on his voyage was different from Glenn's which 

was of the squeeze-tube, baby-food variety. For Carpenter the Pillsbury Company 

had prepared three kinds of snacks, composed of chocolate, figs, and dates with 

high-protein cereals; and the Nestle Company had provided some "bonbons," composed of orange peel with almonds, high-protein cereals with almonds, and cereals 

with raisins. These foods were processed into particles about three-fourths of an 

inch square. Coated with an edible glaze, each piece was packaged separately 

and stored in an opaque plastic bag. As he passed over Canton he reported that 

he had eaten one bite of the inflight food, which was crumbling badly. Weightless crumbs drifting around in the cabin were not only bothersome but also potentially dangerous to his breathing. Though he had been able to eat one piece, his 

gloved hands made it awkward to get the food to his mouth around the helmet 

microphones. 8G Once in his mouth, however, the food was tasty enough and easy 

enough to eat. 

449 
yawed around to observe and photograph the airglow phenomenon; and he rolle

the capsule until Earth was "up" for the inverted flight experiment. Carpente

even stood the capsule on its antenna canister and found that the view wa

exhilarating. Although the manual control system worked well, the MA-7 pilo

had some difficulty caging the attitutude gyros to zero before inverting the space

craft. On two occasions he had to recycle the caging operation after the gyro

tumbled beyond their responsive limits. 

Working under his crowded experiment schedule and the heavy manua

maneuver program, on six occasions Carpenter accidentally actuated the sens

tive-to-the-touch, high-thrust attitude control jets, which brought about "doubl

authority control," or the redundant operation of both the automatic and th

manual systems. So by the end of the first two orbits Carpenter's control fue

supply had dipped to about 42 percent in the manual tanks and 45 percent i

the automatic tanks. During his second orbit, ground capsule communicators a

various tracking sites repeatedly reminded him to conserve his fuel. 

Although his fuel usage was high during the second circumnavigation, Car

penter still managed to continue the experiments. Just as he passed over th

Cape, for example, an hour and 38 minutes from launch, Carpenter deploye

the multicolored balloon. For a few seconds he saw the confetti spray, signalin

deployment. Then, as the line lazily played out, he realized that the balloon had 

not inflated properly; only two of the five colors-orange and dull aluminum

were visible, the orange clearly the more brilliant. Two small, earlike appendage

about six to eight inches each, described as "sausages," emerged on the sides o

the partially inflated sphere. The movement of the half-inflated balloon wa

erratic and unpredictable, but Carpenter managed to obtain a few drag resistanc

measurements. A little more than a half hour after the balloon was launched

Carpenter began some spacecraft maneuvers and the tether line twined to some 

extent about the capsule's antenna canister. Carpenter wanted to get rid of the 

balloon and attempted to release it going into the third orbit over the Cape, bu

the partially successful experimental device stayed doggedly near the spacecraft.8

As Carpenter entered the last orbit, both his automatic and manual contro

fuel tanks were kss than half full. So Aurora 7 began a long period of drifting 

flight. Short recess periods to conserve fuel had occurred earlier in the flight, bu

now Carpenter and his ship were to drift in orbit almost around the world

Although his rapidly depleting fuel supply had made the drift a necessity, this 

vehicle control relaxation maneuver, if successful, would be a valuable engineer

ing experiment. The results would be most useful in planning the rest and 

sleep periods for an astronaut on a longer Mercury mission. Carpenter enjoyed 

his floating orbit, observing that it was a simple matter to start a roll rate of per450 
(left), including, left to right, 

Kenneth S, Kleinknecht, Walter C, Williams, Christopher 

C, Kraft, Jr., Carpenter, and 

Robert D. Mercer. Carpenter 

ready to enter Aurora 7 (lower 

left). T he launch (below). 

Recovery by helicopter (left). Postfl

checkup onboard the Intrepid (above). 
attitude. John Glenn had reported some difficulty in obtaining and holding an 

absolute zero-degree heading. Carpenter, noting that the Moon appeared almost 

in the center of his window, oriented the spacecraft so that it held the Moon on 

the exact center mark and maintained the position with ease. 88 

During the third orbital pass, Carpenter caught on film the phenomenon of 

the flattened Sun at sunset. John O'Keefe and his fellow scientists at Goddard 

had taught Carpenter that the color layers at sunset might provide information 

on light transfusion characteristics of the upper atmosphere. Carpenter furnished 

a vivid description of the sunset to the capsule communicator on the Indian Ocean 

ship: 

The sunsets are most spectacular. The earth is black after the sun has 

set. ... The first band close to the earth is red, the next is yellow, the next 

is blue, the next is green, and the next is sort of a-sort of a purple. It's 

almost like a very brilliant rainbow. These layers extend from at least 90 

degrees either side of the sun at sunset. This bright horizon band extended 

at least 90 degrees north and south of the position at sunset. 

He took some 19 pictures of the flattened Sun.89 

As Carpenter drifted over oceans and land masses, he observed and reported 

on the haze layer, or airglow phenomenon, about which Glenn had marveled

Carpenter's brief moments of airglow study during the second orbit failed to 

match the expectations he had derived from Glenn's reports and the Goddard 

scientists' predictions on the phenomenon. Having more leisure on his third 

circuit, Carpenter described the airglow layer in detail to Slayton at the Muchea 

tracking site: 

... the haze layer is very bright. I would say about 8 to 10 degrees 

above the real horizon. And I would say that the haze layer is about twice as 

high above the horizon as the bright blue band at sunset is; it's twice as thick. 

A star-stars are occluded as we pass through this haze layer. I have a good 

set of stars to watch going through at this time. I'll try to get some photometer readings ... . It is not twice as thick. It's thinner, but it is located at 

a distance about twice as far away as the top of the band at sunset. It's very 

narrow, and as bright as the horizon of the earth itself. 

The single star, not stars, that Carpenter tracked was Phecda Ursae Majoris, in 

the Big Dipper or Great Bear constellation, with a magnitude of 2.5. 90 

With each sunrise, Carpenter also saw the "fireflies," or "Glenn effect," as 

the Russians were calling it. To him the particles looked more like snowflakes 

than fireflies, and they did not seem to be truly luminous, as Glenn had said. The 

particles varied in size, brightness, and color. Some were gray, some were white

and one in particular, said Carpenter, looked like a helical shaving from a lathe. 

Although they seemed to travel at different speeds, they did not move out and 

452 
against the capsule hatch, and suddenly a cloud of particles flew past the window. 

He yawed right to investigate, noting that the particles traveled across the front 

of the window from right to left. Another tap of the hand on the hatch sent off 

a second shower; a tap on the wall produced another. Since the exterior of the 

spacecraft evidently was covered with frost, Glenn's "fireflies" became Carpenter's 

"frostflies." 91 

Until Aurora 7 reached the communication range of the Hawaiian station on 

the third pass, Christopher Kraft, directing the flight from the Florida control 

center, considered this mission the most successful to date; everything had gone 

perfectly except for some overexpenditure of hydrogen peroxide fuel. Carpenter 

had exercised his manual controls with ease in a number of spacecraft maneuvers 

and had made numerous and valuable observations in the interest of space science. 

Even though the control fuel usage had been excessive in the first two orbits, by 

the time he drifted near Hawaii on the third pass Carpenter had successfully maintained more than 40 percent of his fuel in both the automatic and the manual 

tanks. According to the mission rules, this ought to be quite enough hydrogen 

peroxide, reckoned Kraft, to thrust the capsule into the retrofire attitude, hold it, 

and then to reenter the atmoophere using either the automatic or the manua] 

control system.92 

The tracking site at Hawaii instructed Carpenter to start his preretrofire countdown and to shift from manual control to the automatic stabilization and control 

system. He explained to the ground station over which he was passing at five miles 

per second that he had gotten somewhat behind on the preretro checkoff list while 

verifying his hypothesis about the snowflake-like particles outside his window. 

Then as Carpenter began aligning the spacecraft and shifting control to the automatic mode, he suddenly found himself to be in trouble. The automatic stabilization system would not hold the 34-degree pitch and zero-degree yaw attitude. As 

he tried to determine what was wrong, he fell behind in his check of other items. 

When he hurriedly switched to the fly-by-wire control mode, he forgot to switch off 

the manual system. For about 10 minutes fuel from both systems was being used 

redundantly.93 

Finally, Carpenter felt that he had managed to· align the spacecraft for the 

retrofire sequence. The Hawaiian communicator urged him to complete as much 

of the checklist as possible before he passed out of that site's communications range. 

Now Alan Shepard's voice from the Arguello, California, station came in loud and 

clear, asking whether the Aurora 7 pilot had bypassed the automatic retroattitude 

switch. Carpenter quickly acted on this timely reminder. Then the countdown 

for retrofire began. Because the automatic system was misbehaving, Carpenter 

was to push the button to ignite the solid-fuel retrorockets strapped to the heatshield. About three seconds after Shepard's call of "Mark! Fire One," the first 

453 
attitude nearly correct. Actually Aurora 7 was canted at retrofire about 25 

degrees to the right, and thus the reverse thrust vector was not in line with the fligh

path vector. This misalignment alone would have caused the spacecraft to over

shoot the planned impact point by about 175 miles. But the retrorockets began 

firing three seconds late, adding another 15 miles or so to the trajectory error

Later analyses also revealed a thrust decrement in the retrorockets that was abou

three percent below nominal, contributing 60 more miles to the overshoot. I

Carpenter had not bypassed the automatic retroattitude switch and manuall

ignited the retrorockets he could have overshot his pickup point in the Atlantic b

an even greater distance. 95 

Unlike Glenn, Carpenter had no illusion that he was being driven back to 

Hawaii at retrofire. Instead he had the feeling that Aurora 7 had simply stopped 

and that if he looked toward Earth he would see it coming straight up. On

glance out the window, however, and the "impression was washed away." 96 Th

completion of retrofire produced no changes the pilot could feel until his reentr

began in earnest about 10 minutes later. 

After the retrorockets had fired, Carpenter realized that the manual contro

system was still on. Quickly he turned off the fly-by-wire system, intending t

check the manual controls. Although the manual fuel gauge read six percent left

there was, in fact, no fuel and consequently no manual control. So Carpente

switched back to fly-by-wire. At that time the automatic system supply read 1

percent, but the astronaut wondered how much really remained. Could it be onl

about 10 percent? With this gnawing doubt and realizing that it was still 1

minutes before .05-g time, Carpenter kept hands strictly off for most of his driftin

glide. Whatever fuel there was left must be saved for the critical tumble. Thi

10-minute interval seemed like eternity to the pilot. The attitude indicators ap

peared to be useless, and there was little fuel to control attitude anyway. The onl

thing he trusted for reference was the view out of the window; using fly-by-wir

sparingly he tried to keep the horizon in view. Although concerned about the fue

conservation problem, Carpenter gained some momentary relief from the fascinat

ing vistas below: "I can make out very, very small-farm land, pasture land below

I see individual fields, rivers, lakes, roads, I think. I'll get back to reentr

attitude." 97 

Finally, Aurora 7 reached the .05-g acceleration point about 500 miles off th

coast of Florida. As he began to feel his weight once again, Carpenter noted 

that the automatic fuel needle still read 15 percent. Within seconds the capsul

began to oscillate badly. A quick switch to the auxiliary damping mode steadied 

the spacecraft. Grissom, the Cape communicator, reminded him to close hi

faceplate. 98 

454 
to minimize the landing point dispersion. Carpenter looked out the window 

for the bright orange glow, the "fireball," as Glenn had described it, but there was 

only a moderate increase in light intensity. Rather than an orange glow, Carpenter saw a light-green glow apparently surrounding the cylindrical section. Was 

this radiant portion of the spacecraft ablating? Was the trim angle correct? The 

evenness of the oscillations argued to Carpenter that the trim angle was good. All 

the way through this zone Carpenter kept talking. Gradually it became difficult 

to squeeze the words out; the heaviest deceleration load was coming. The peak 

g period lasted longer than he had expected, and it took forceful breath control to 

utter anything. DD 

The automatic fuel tank on Aurora 7 was.emptied between 80,000 and 70,000 

feet. As the plasma sheath of ionized air enveloped his spacecraft, communication 

efforts with Carpenter became useless, but the telemetered signals received by the 

radar stations at the Cape and on San Salvador predicted a successful reentry. 

The oscillations were increasing as the capsule approached the 50,000-foot level. 

Aurora 7 was swinging beyond the 10-degree "tolerable" limits. Carpenter 

strained upward to arm the drogue at 45,000 feet, but he forced himself to ride out 

stilI more severe oscillations before he fired the drogue parachute mortar at 25,000 

feet. The chute pulsed out and vibrated like thin, quivering sheets of metal. At 

15,000 feet Carpenter armed the main parachute switch, and at 9500 feet he deployed the chute manually. The fabric quivered, but the giant umbrella 

streamed, reefed, and unfurled as it should. The rate of descent was 30 feet per 

second, the exact design specification. The spacecraft landing bag deploy was on 

automatic. Carpenter listened for the "clunk," he£lrd the heatshield fall into 

position, and waited to hit the water. Aurora 7 seemed to be ready for the landing, and the recovery forces knew within a few miles the location of the spacecraft 

as radar tracking after retrofire had given and confirmed the landing point. loo 

Splashdown was noisy but less of a jolt than the spaceman had expected. The 

capsule, however, did not right itself within a minute as it was supposed to do. 

Carpenter, noticing some drops of water on his tape recorder, wondered if Aurora 

7 was about to meet the fate of Liberty Bell 7, and then sighed in relief when he 

could find no evidence of a leak. He waited a little longer for the spacecraft to 

straighten up, but it continued to list to his left. Grissom's last transmission from 

Mercury Control had told Carpenter that it would take the pararescue men about 

an hour to reach him, and the astronaut realized that he had evidently overshot 

the planned landing zone. When he failed to raise a response on his radio, he 

decided to get out of the cramped capsule. Then he saw that the capsule was 

floating rather deeply, which meant that it might be dangerous to remove the 

hatch. Sweating profusely in the 101-degree temperature of the cabin, he pulled 

off his helmet and began the job of egress as it had been originally planned. Car455 
Half out of the top hatch, Carpenter rested on his elbows momentarily, re

leased the suit hose but failed to deploy the neck dam and lock the hose inle

and surveyed the sea. Lazy swells, some as high as six feet, did not look to

forbidding. So he carefully laid his hand camera on top of the recovery com

partment, squeezed out of the top, and carefully lowered himself into the water

tipping the listing spacecraft slightly in the process. Holding onto the capsule

he was able to easily inflate the life raft-upside down. By this time, feelin

some water in his boots, he secured the hose inlet to the suit. He then held o

to the spacecraft's side and managed to flip the raft upright. After crawlin

onto the yellow raft, he retrieved the camera, unrolled the suit neck dam, and pre

pared to wait for as long as it took the recovery searchers to find him. The recover

beacon was operating and the green dye pervaded the sea all around him.lO! 

The status of Carpenter and Aurora 7 was unknown to the public. Every

one following the flight by radio or television knew that the spacecraft must b

down. But was the pilot safe? What the public did not know was that on

P2V airplane had received the spacecraft's beacon signal from a distance of onl

50 miles, while another plane had picked up the signal from 250 miles. Auror

7's position was well known to the recovery forces in the area. About eigh

minutes before the spacecraft landed, an SA-16 seaplane of the Air Force Ai

Rescue Service had taken off from Roosevelt Roads, Puerto Rico, for the radar

predicted landing point. Three ships-a Coast Guard cutter at St. Thoma

Island, a merchantman 31 miles from the plotted point, and the destroye'r Farragu

about 75 miles away to the southwest-were in the vicinity of the impact poin

But it would certainly take longer than an hour for any recovery unit to reac

the site. Since Carpenter's raft had no radio, the drama was heightened. Wha

exactly had happened to Carpenter after his landing was known only to th

astronaut and perhaps to a few sea gulls and sea bass.102 

Carpenter settled down on his raft and waited patiently for his rescuers. H

mused over some seaweed floating nearby and "a black fish that was just a

friendly as he could be-right down by the raft." In time, 36 minutes afte

splashdown, he saw two aircraft, a P2V and, unexpectedly, a Piper Apache. Th

astronaut watched the planes circle, saw that the Apache pilot was photographin

the area, and knew that he had been found. Twenty minutes later several SC-5

aircraft arrived, and one dropped two frogmen, but Carpenter, watching othe

planes, did not see them bail out.103 

Airman First Class John F. Heitsch, dropping from the SC-54 transport abou

an hour and seven minutes after Carpenter had first hit the water, missed th

life raft by a considerable distance. Releasing his chute harness, he dove unde

456 
gy , g

two frogmen quickly inflated two other rafts and locked them to the spacecraft. 

McClure and Heitsch later described the astronaut as smiling, happy, and not at 

all tired. The pilot broke out his survival rations and offered some to the two 

Air Force swimmers, who declined the space food but drank some space water.104 

The three men, still without radio contact, perched on the three rafts and 

watched the planes circling above. One plane dropped the spacecraft flotation 

collar, which hit the water with a loud bang, breaking one of its compressed-air 

bottles. The swimmers retrieved and attached the flotation collar with only its 

top loop inflated and then crawled back onto their rafts. Shortly a parachute 

with a box at the end came floating lazily down some distance from the spacecraft. The men on the rafts supposed this was the needed radio, and one of 

the frogmen swam a considerable distance to get it. He returned with the container, opened it, and found that there was no radio inside, only a battery. Later 

Carpenter laughingly declined to repeat the swimmer's heated remarks.los 

The Air Force SA-16 seaplane from Roosevelt Roads arrived at the scene 

about an hour and a half after the spacecraft landed in the Atlantic. To the 

SA-16 pilot the sea seemed calm enough to set his craft down upon and pick up 

the astronaut, but the Mercury Control Center directed the seaplane not to land. 

As later depicted by the news media and thoroughly discussed in Congress, this 

delay grew out of traditional rivalry between the Air Force and the Navy. Brigadier General Thomas J. Dubose, a former commander of the Air Rescue Service, 

wrote to Florida's United States Senator Spessard L. Holland, charging that 

Carpenter floated in the raft an hour and 20 minutes longer than was necessary. 

D. Brainerd Holmes, a NASA official, testified at the hearings that Admiral John 

L. Chew, commander of the Project Mercury recovery forces, feared the seaplane 

might break apart if it landed on the choppy waters. Because of this, according 

to Holmes, the decision had been made to proceed with helicopter and ship pickup 

as originally planned.lo6 

After three hours of sitting on the sea in his raft, Carpenter was picked up by 

an HSS-2 helicopter, but either the rotorcraft settled as a swell arose or the 

winch operator accidentally lowered away, and the astronaut was dunked. Up 

went his arm and the hand holding the camera to keep the precious film dry. 

With nothing else amiss, Carpenter was hoisted aboard the helicopter, a drenched 

but happy astronaut. Richard A. Rink, a physician aboard, described Carpenter 

as exhilarated. The astronaut draped one leg out of the helicopter and, by 

cutting a hole in his sock, drained most of the water from his pressure suit. He 

then stood up and proceeded to pace around, sometimes settling in a seat, and 

intermittently talking about his flight. Carpenter arrived aboard the carrier 

Intrepid some four hours and 15 minutes after his return to Earth. The medical 

457 
Aurora 7 

Aftermath 

Following visit to W hite House. 

Carpenter (right) and Walter 

C. Williams (center) receive 

in N ew York at the WaldorfAstoria, along with former Presidents Hoov er and Truman. 

examinations began immediately but were interrupted when the astronaut was 

called to the phone to receive what was by now President Kennedy's traditional 

congratulatory call. The President expressed his relief that Carpenter was safe 

and well, while Carpenter gave his "apologies for not having aimed a little better 

on reentry. " From the Intrepid the astronaut was flown to Grand Turk Island, 

where, as Howard A. Minners, an Air Force physician assigned to Mercury, 

described it, Carpenter wanted to stay up late and talk. lo 7 

A1frora 7, picked up by the destroyer Pierce, was returned to Cape Canaveral 

the next day. When retrieved, the spacecraft was listing about 45 degrees compared to the normal 15 to 20 degrees, and it contained about 65 gallons of sea 

water, which would hamper the inspection and postflight analyses. Carpenter 

recalled two occasions on which the spacecraft had shipped small amounts of 

water, but he was unable to explain the larger amount found by the pickup crew. 

The exterior of the spacecraft showed the usual bluish and orange tinges on the 

shingles, several of which were slightly dented and scratched as after previous 

mISSIOns. Since there was no evidence of inflight damage, these slight scars presumably were the result of postflight handling. The spacecraft heatshield and 

main pre.ssure bulkhead were in good condition except for a missing shield center 

plug, which had definitely been in place during reentry. Some of the honeycomb was crushed, resulting in minor deformation of the small tubing in that 

458 
pjyg

The postflight celebrations and honors followed the precedents and patterns 

established by Glenn's flight. Administrator Webb presented to Carpenter and 

Williams NASA Distinguished Service Medals in a ceremony at the Cape. Carpenter also learned of Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev's cabled congratulations. 

Then the astronaut's hometown, Boulder, Colorado, gave him a hero's welcome. 

After being awarded a degree by the University of Colorado, where he had lacked 

a credit in a heat-transfer course, the astronaut facetiously commented that the 

blazing MA-7 reentry surely qualified him as a master in the field of thermodynamics. Memorial Day found the pilot in Denver, where a crowd of 300,000 

people cheered and honored him. The next day he returned to work at Langley, 

where exhaustive technical debriefings were held to glean all the knowledge possible from MA_7.109 

In these postflight sessions the astronaut insisted that he knew what he wanted 

to do at all times, but that every task took a little longer than the time allotted 

by the flight plan. Some of the equipment, he said, was not easy to handle, 

particularly the special films that he had to load into a camera. As a consequence he had been unable to get all the pi<;tures the Weather Bureau had requested for its satellite photography program. Moreover, the flight plan that had 

been available during training was only a tentative one, and the final plan had 

been completed only a short while before he suited up for the launch. Carpenter 

felt that the completed plan should be in the astronaut's hands at least two months 

before a scheduled flight and that the flight agenda should allow more time 

for the pilot to observe, evaluate, and record. When asked about fuel consumption by the high thrusters, Carpenter replied that the 24-pounders were unnecessary for the orbital phase of a flight. 

The astronaut recommended that some method be devised for closing off the 

high thrusters while the automatic control system was in operation. He granted 

that on the fly-by-wire, low-thruster operation, the spacecraft changed its attitude 

slowly, as was shown by the needle movement, and that the pilot would have to 

wait momentarily to pick up the desired attitude change rate. For tracking 

tasks, however, the manual-proportional mode served well; attitude changes could 

be made with only a gentle touch of the handcontroller. Talking with newsmen after the flight, Carpenter assumed full responsibility for his high fuel consumption. He pointed out, however, that what he had learned would be valuable 

for longer Mercury missions.1l0 

As mid-year 1962 approached, Project Mercury faced yet another crossroad. 

Had enough been learned during the two three-orbit flights to justify going on to 

longer missions? Joe W. Dodson, a Manned Spacecraft Center engineer, speaking 

before the Exchange Club of Hampton, Virginia, indicated that the MSC designers 

459 
apogee and a 113-mile perigee, inclined (as usual for Vostoks) at 65 degree

The "gap" seemed to become a "gulf" the following day, when Vostok IV

carrying Lieutenant Colonel Pavel R. Popovich, shot into an orbit with an apoge

of 157 miles and a perigee of 112 miles. Soon after the second launch, Nikolaye

reported that he had sighted Popovich's spacecraft. Western tracking station

variously reported that the two craft were as close as 3 and as far as 300 miles apar

Intercepted communications between Nikolayev (code-named Falcon) and Popo

vich (Golden Eagle) caused serious speculation that the Vostoks might try t

rendezvous, but apparently no such attempt was made. 

On August 15, Nikolayev landed after 64 orbits and more than 95 hours i

space. Popovich touched down six minutes later, after 48 orbits and more tha

70 hours' flight.~ The U.S. decision to accelerate the space program called for b

President Kennedy in May 1961 seemed more than validated to most critic

observers. Meanwhile engineers who were designing what became the Gemin

vehicle for rendezvous with an orbiting Agena rocket studied the possibility o

adding a space-maneuvering capability to Mercury. On August 24, Kenneth S

Kleinknecht, the Project Office chief, reported that such an innovation woul

require at least 400 pounds of additional spacecraft hardware and fuel. Upo

hearing this, Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., the Mercury flight director, dourly observe

that this added weight might dangerously degrade the capsule's chances of reachin

orbit, but Robert R. Gilruth asked Kleinknecht to continue his studies. A few day

later the Mercury Project Office and the Flight Crew Operations Division hande

the MSC director a joint proposal for maneuvering an orbiting Mercury spacecra

close to a passive Echo-type satellite. But because of time, weight, and safet

considerations, Gilruth and his management lieutenants rejected the proposa

abandoned the idea of a maneuverable Mercury spacecraft for the time being, an

turned back to the more prosaic but essential business of preparing for the mode

doubled-distance, six-orbit flight slated for Walter Schirra. 3 

LONGER LEGS FOR MERCURY 

Specific planning for MA-8 had begun back in February during the technic

debriefing of John Glenn following the MA-6 mission. While attending th

Grand Turk Island meetings, Kleinknecht and Donald K. Slayton had agreed tha

a flight of six or seven orbits seemed to be a logical intermediate step from th

three-pass flight of Glenn toward an ultimate 18-orbit goal then under study

When Kleinknecht returned to his office (then at Langley) he put his staff to wor

in conjunction with John F. Yardley's group of McDonnell engineers on th

changes necessary to accomplish a seven-orbit Mercury flight. 1 

462 
tinuous operation of the automatic stabilization and control system, which caused 

a heavy drain on the spacecraft's electrical power supply. Also critical were 

oxygen reserves, reaction control fuel supplies, and increased recovery requirements. The tracking and communications network, built for three-orbit coverage, 

would require extensive modification if the tracking criteria applied to three orbits 

should apply to six or seven. 

The three-orbit Mercury spacecraft, with all its electrically powered systems in 

action, consumed about 70S0 watt-hours of battery power from a total of about 

13,500 watt-hours available. Thus a seven-orbit mission, obeying previous flight 

rules, would consume about 11,190 watt-hours, leaving a reserve supply of only 6.7 

percent. Mercury Project Office engineers insisted there should be at least a 10 

percent postlanding reserve as a safety factor and suggested at least two conservation methods to attain and surpass this amount. One was drawn from an earlier 

recommendation presented by McDonnell designers and planners; they had outlined possibilities for an IS-orbit mission, proposing that some of the systems be 

turned off during a substantial portion of the flight. In addition to this, the MSC 

engineers recommended switching telemetry transmitter and radar beacon operations to ground command. These measures, they felt, would raise the reserve 

power levels to about 15 percent. 

After studying the spacecraft's environmental control system, the project engineers at MSC concluded that about 4.4 pounds of oxygen would be consumed 

during a seven-orbit flight, taking pilot usage and cabin leakage rates into consideration. By prevailing mission rules, this would leave an insufficient supply to 

meet possible contingencies of abnormal recovery. A supply of S.6 pounds would 

meet the requirement, but the system carried only two 4-pound capacity bottles. 

So, either the rules had to be relaxed or the system had to be modified. The MSC 

study group recommended the modification possibility, adding that a strenuous 

program to reduce cabin leakage rates to 600 cubic centimeters per minute should 

be started. Formerly up to 1000 cubic centimeters had been within design specifications. To cover the increase in carbon dioxide production from the longer flight, 

the project office planners pointed out that the canister carried in the three-orbit 

spacecraft could be filled with lithium hydroxide to its 5.4 pound capacity. This 

amount represented an increase from the 4.6 pounds that had been carried on the 

three-pass flights and should be sufficient extension of the CO2 removal capability. 

At the same time that these efforts were being made to provide the spacecraft 

systems with all the power they needed and the astronaut with enough breathable 

oxygen, some NASA and McDonnell engineers were wrestling with more advanced problems of tripling, quadrupling, and even raising by factors of six and 

eight the capabilities of the Mercury spacecraft to orbit Earth. But at this stage, 

planning for the day-long, IS-orbit mission depended heavily on some positive proof 

463 
viding enough hydrogen peroxide fuel to power the capsule's reaction contro

system. A seven-orbit mission operating in the fully automatic control mod

would consume about 28 pounds of fuel, providing the systems were functionin

normally. The Mercury Project Office suggested alternating a combination o

automatic and manual modes to provide safer fuel reserves at the end of the fligh

Such a procedure would expend 23 pounds of automatic and 18 pounds of manua

fuel, leaving reserves of 12 and 15 pounds, respectively. Then, in case of ma

function in one of the control modes, the astronaut would be assured of an ade

quate fuel supply in the other mode. 

Recovery procedures changed considerably for the proposed seven-orb

mISSIOn. The fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh sinusoidal curves of the orbita

ground trace passed over geographical points that almost intersected, while th

fifth and sixth orbits did intersect in the northern Pacific about 275 miles northea

of Midway Island. This pattern shifted to the Pacific Ocean the optimum 

recovery area that had been in the Atlantic for MA-4 through MA-7. Klein

knecht's staff pointed out that a once-an-orbit primary recovery capability coul

be maintained with only a slight increase in the recovery forces. The primar

landing area during the seventh orbit could be covered easily by Navy vesse

moving to the zone from their base at Pearl Harbor, but some of the aircraft stagin

bases for past contingency landing areas would have to be relocated. 

Then Sigurd A. Sjoberg, Robert F. Thompson, and other mission and recover

planners discovered a slight flaw in the seven-orbit flight profile. A hard missio

rule required a contingency recovery capability within 18 hours after landing

This requirement could be easily met for a six-orbit mission, but adding a sevent

orbit required additional recovery forces to satisfy that mission rule. So NAS

decided to make MA-8 a six-orbit flight. 5 

During August 1962 the MA-8 mission planners continued to wrestle wit

many other operational considerations. But within the month they were able t

issue the mission rules, data acquisition plan, a slight revision to the flight plan

recovery requirements and procedures, and the mission directive, only to find o

some occasions that closer study of engineering preparations revealed new con

straints, requiring minor changes to most of their guidebooks.6 

PREPARATIONS FOR MA-8 

While the long-duration mission studies were in progress and the mission rule

and directives were being prepared and issued, other personnel of the NASA

military-industry complex were readying the spacecraft, booster, and recover

forces. The astronaut and alternate pilot were in intensive training. 

464 
Rework to incorporate a six-orbit capability was done at the Cape by the MSC 

Preflight Operations Division with the help of McDonnell technicians. The 

work and testing began slowly but were well underway in April. In that month 

temperature surveys at the critical points on the capsule were completed, the 

environmental control system passed its altitude-chamber tests, and the reaction 

control system was exercised satisfactorily. Minor troubles cropped up, as usual. 

Emergency oxygen rate valves stuck. Water coolant flowed too freely. The 

cabin's oxygen leakage rate was too high. Each difficulty slowly was overcome, 

but it became evident that a hoped-for August launching might slip at least a 

month. 7 

The Mercury Project Office had pronounced 5.4 pounds of lithium hydroxide 

sufficient for oxygen purification for the MA-8 mission, but the MSC Life Systems Division personnel checking this theory found the absorbers unsatisfactory. 

Canisters containing 4.6 pounds of the mixture had been used in the three-orbit 

spacecraft and tests showed that this amount of the chemical functioned to keep 

the air breathable for 34.5 hours before carbon-dioxide levels rose too high. Then 

canisters supposedly containing 5.4 pounds of absorbent were tested, with both fixed 

and variable inputs of heat, water vapor, and carbon dioxide, and with a human 

subject breathing the oxygen. To the amazement of the testers, the lifetimes 

of these canisters averaged only slightly higher than those that were partly filled. 

Then it occurred to somebody in the division to weigh the canisters. Each 

proved to have been packed about half a pound short. Finally the completely 

filled canisters were tested for as long as 71 hours before breaking down, demonstrating that the original design met the development demands, after all. Wellfilled absorbers would qualify for a day-long mission as well as for six orbits. 8 

As the work continued at the Cape on spacecraft No. 16, Scott Carpenter 

made his fuel-thirsty, three-orbit flight on May 24. During Aurora 7's postflight 

analysis MSC engineers, including G. Merritt Preston's checkout crew, took new 

and closer looks at the attitude and reaction control systems. They decided that 

attitude thrusters slightly different in design would have to be installed in the 

MA-8 spacecraft. While Preston's men were implementing this decision, they 

also managed to get No. 16's cabin oxygen leakage rate down to a highly satisfactory 460 cubic centimeters per minute, although in the weeks ahead this ra~e 

would rise slightly.9 

Other results from MA-7, as recorded from telemetry data, as reported by 

Carpenter, and as revealed by examination of flight-tested Aurora 7, had intensified 

the flurry of activity all along the line to prepare No. 16 for its flight. Carpenter 

had many suggestions regarding spacecraft configuration. The heavy periscope, 

he said, was useless on Earth's nightside; the window alone could be used to 

find the spacecraft's attitude. The determined workers for spacecraft weight re465 
At this juncture, President Kennedy set out on a tour of the space centers of the 

South to inspect and show his interest not only in the preparations for MA-8 but 

also in the vast array of technological talents being mobilized for the accelerated 

space program, including the first lunar voyage. Kennedy flew down to Cape 

Canaveral to see the Merritt Island Launch Area that was being built for the huge 

Saturn V rockets. Then he went on to Houston to see the site for the management 

and control center on the Texas coastal prairie. Before a sweltering crowd halffilling the 72,000-seat Rice University stadium, the President spoke on September 

12, 1962, in earnest defense of his proclaimed program for manned exploration of 

the Moon. "No man can fully grasp how far and how fast we have come," said 

Kennedy. "The exploration of space will go ahead, whether we join it or 

not. ... It is one of the great adventures of all time, and no nation which expects 

to be the leader of other nations can expect to stay behind in the race for 

space.... We intend to be first. ... to become the world's leading spacefaring nation." The youthful President then addressed one of his memorable 

statements to those who had asked, "Why send a man to the Moon?" 

We set sail on this new sea because there is new knowledge to be gained and 

new rights to be won, and they must be won and used for the progress .of all 

people. For space science, like nuclear science and all technology, has no 

conscience of its own. Whether it will become a force for good or ill depends 

on us, and only if the United States occupies a position of preeminence can 

we help decide whether this new ocean will be a sea of peace or a new, terrifying theater of war. ... Space can be explored and mastered without feeding 

the fires of war, without repeating the mistake that man has made in extending 

his writ around this globe of ours.21 

If President Kennedy's remarks in Houston, later at the McDonnell factory 

in St. Louis, and elsewhere, proved an accurate reflection of most Americans

sentiments about the space program, his words persuaded few of the vocal economic, political, and scientific conservatives who were watching costs soar along 

with the engineering effort. The NASA space budget alone for this fiscal year was 

over $5 billion, which represented a tax of about 40 cents on each American per 

week; but the Nation was prosperous, the economy seemed sound, and critics of the 

"space circus" were seldom heard. 

Toward the end of September, all mission preparations, the astronaut, the 

spacecraft, and the launch vehicle reached a high state of readiness. The spacecraft and the booster mated well; the simulated tests before mission ticked off 

without further hitches; and October 3 thus remained a promising launch date. 

Schirra, viewing the elaborate preparation effort, studying his flight plan, and 

knowing that his mission involved the evaluation of the capsule's ability to accomplish a day-long flight, recognized the immensity of the engineering effort 

behind him. In honor of these labors, he selected the name Sigma 7 for his spacecraft. "Since this was to be an engineering evaluation," he explained, the name 

chosen for capsule No. 16 was that of an engineering symbol for summation, Sigma, 

470 
President John F. K ennedy, touring space facilities, spoke to 35,000 

people in th e stadium at Rice University, September 12,1962: ((We 

intend .. . to become the world's 

leading spacefaring nation." 

with the number seven added to it for the seven-member Mercury astronaut 

team. "Thus," he said, "was derived the name and symbol that was painted on 

the spacecraft, Sigma 7." ~ 

On the final lap toward launch day, Schirra began a controlled diet on September 21; nine days later physician Howard A. Minners placed him on his lowresidue diet. Schirra complained mildly while adjusting to the low-residue food, 

but in every other respect he was primed and ready, mentally and physically. 

As always when flight day neared, the Mercury operations team through the 

Weather Bureau support group kept a watchful eye on existing weather disturbances in both the Atlantic and Pacific areas. About 400 miles north by northeast of Puerto Rico, tropical storm Daisy churned the waters of the Atlantic, while 

three typhoons, Dinah, Emma, and Frieda, whipped Pacific waves. On October 

1, Walter Williams told the news corps covering the flight at the Cape that except 

for the weather "all elements of the MA-8 flight are in a go condition as of this 

time." By 5 p.m. the following day, ""illiams was satisfied with the chances for 

success and decided to launch as planned.~ :l 

Notified by Williams that he had a 7 o'clock liftoff "appointment" the next 

morning, Schirra dined leisurely and retired early. Without any sleep-inducing 

medications, the pilot drifted into slumber shortly after 8 p.m. and got about five 

hours of sound rest. Minners roused Schirra at 1: 40 a.m. to begin the precise 

readiness routine. The astronaut showered, shaved, and met with Gilruth, Williams, Slayton, and Minners for breakfast. He ate heartily the "astronaut launch471 
logical sensors to the astronaut's body, Schirra signaled to Joe W. Schmitt to assist 

him in donning the silvery pressure suit. At a little past 4 o'clock, Schirra and his 

attending retinue emerged from Hangar S. 

As Schirra headed for the transfer van, Alvin B. Webb, a veteran space-newsman assigned by the press pool to report activities in that area, observed that the 

astronaut seemed to be unusually relaxed and smiling, as compared to previous 

astronauts on their way to the launch pad. Seconds later, Schirra, carrying his 

portable air conditioner, climbed aboard the van for a leisurely ride toward the 

flood-lit spire in the distance. As the van reached the blockhouse and gantry complex, Byron G. MacNabb, representing the Convair-Atlas team, greeted Schirra 

and said: "On behalf of the crew of Pad 14, I wish you a successful flight and a 

happy landing." Acknowledging this salutation, 'Schirra boarded the elevator 

and moved up the gantry. At 4: 41 a.m. the astronaut slid inside Sigma 7. 24 

THE TEXTBOOK FLIGHT 

As October 3, 1962, dawned, television viewers and radio listeners in the 

United States faced the day with a spectacular doubleheader in store: in the new 

"world series" in space, the orbiting of a third American; in the older World Series 

on Earth, the opening baseball game between the New York Yankees and the San 

Francisco Giants. Many dials switched later in the day to the traditional nineinning sports event, but two of the three major networks continued to compete for 

the attention of Americans with minute-by-minute coverage of Sigma 7's six orbits.25 

Schirra slipped into his capsule, buckled himself comfortably in the couch, 

and smiled when he saw an automobile ignition key hanging from the handcontroller safety latch. This represented a tension breaker provided by the ground 

crew. Then he began to inventory his gear inside the cabin-flight-plan bar 

charts neatly placed in a slot just below the instrument panel, star charts arranged 

in a rack to his side, cameras in place, and accessories stowed in his ditty bag. 

When he stuck his hand in the glove compartment, he found some crinkly plastic 

wrapped around a soft object that turned out to be a steak sandwich. Otherwise, 

everything was as it should be, and Schirra began his prelaunch checkout tests.26 

Outside the spacecraft, technicians busily bolted on the side hatch, and every 

bolt sank neatly in its threads. From there on, the countdown proceeded rapidly 

until about 6: 15 (T minus 45 minutes), when the Canary Island station reported 

a malfunction in one of its radar sets. Since this equipment would be critical in 

ascertaining the orbital parameters, Williams quickly called a hold in the countdown. The Canary radar required only 15 minutes to be fixed and for the next 45 

minutes the countdown ticked off with precision. 

472 
, 

p, , 

D telemetered signals showing an unexpected clockwise roll. Both primary and 

secondary sensors inside the launch vehicle, monitoring such movements to determine the seriousness of the situation, registered a rifling roll only 20 percent shor

of an abort condition. Then, to the relief of the capsule and booster monitors in 

the control center, the threatening twist suddenly smoothed out. Schirra began 

transmitting the status of his supplies and systems' operation. After a little more 

than a minute, he realized that he seemed to be talking to himself. Glancing 

around the cockpit, he noted that evidently the noise associated with max q had 

incorrectly operated the sound-activated radio microphone, and so he pushed the 

button to talk to Slayton. Surely something should be done to obviate this problem, he thought, because he needed to keep his hand on the abort handle, or 

"chicken switch," rather than having to press the "talk" button manually. 

Schirra listened for booster engine cutoff; it came two seconds earlier than 

programmed. He saw a flash of light and smoke reflected from the booster engines 

at the time the aft section parted from the sustainer. Seconds later the escape 

tower jerked away from the top of Sigma 7) its rocket blast spreading a spotty film 

on the window. Sustainer engine acceleration seemed slow, Schirra mused, but 

since his escape tower had "really said 'sayonara,' " he could only wait and see if 

the sustainer would burn long enough to accelerate him into orbjt. Acceleration 

seemed to drive on and on, the pilot said, and finally the sustainer engine cut off

about 10 seconds late. Data registered on the control panels at the Cape indicated 

a 15-foot-per-second overspeed that would send Schirra higher-176 miles-and 

faster-1 7,557 miles per hour-than any other astronaut had gone or would go 

during Project Mercury.27 

When Sigma 7 parted from its Atlas rocket, Schirra turned on the auxiliary 

damping controls to eliminate the spacecraft quivers produced by the blast of the 

posigrade- rockets. Although he dearly wanted to look out the spacecraft window 

at the scene below, Schirra fixed his eyes on the instrument panel, flipped his 

attitude control to the fly-by-wire mode, and started a leisurely four-degree-persecond cartwheel movement to obtain his correct orbital attitude position. Turnaround, which was deliberately slow to conserve fuel, used only three-tenths of a 

pound from a total supply of almost 59 pounds of hydrogen peroxide. To Schirra 

the thruster jets operated as if they had been programmed by a computer, providing 

tiny single pulse spurts to obtain exactly the position he desired.28 

Now he could look out the window to track the sustainer tankage. Peering at 

a prescribed spot, Schirra saw the spent vehicle come into view in the upper lef

corner of his "picture" window, just as his predecessors had said it should. Glenn 

and Carpenter had mentioned that their tankage appeared to be silvery in color; 

to Schirra, his looked almost black, "with a white belly band of frost." The spent 

473 
low thrusters, if desired, served well to adjust his attitude to track the spent sustainer. The thrusters responded crisply and cut off without residual reactions. 

Tracking the booster seemed even easier than following a target in an aircraft on an 

air-to-air gunnery problem. Schirra nevertheless knew that he had neither the 

attitude control and maneuvering thrust nor the computational ability to perform 

a rendezvous. There were simply too many conditions to be judged if he were to 

solve the orbital mechanics task so shortly after launching. Schirra later expressed 

the opinion that rendezvous with another vehicle in space appeared to be possible, 

but that he believed a pilot would have to have very precise attitude data to effect a 

coupling. He confirmed what students of celestial mechanics already knew, while 

providing them with a feel for the problems of perceiving relative motion. Differences in velocity of only 20 to 30 feet per second between two objects in space 

could be disastrous, he said. 

As Schirra neared the Canary Islands, he turned aside from tracking the booster 

to check out the manual-proportional mode of spacecraft control. The pitchingup maneuver matched well with his experience on the procedures trainer. As 

Grissom had done before him in Mercury-Redstone 4, Schirra noted that he tended 

to overshoot his desired attitude position and that the manual mode of control 

seemed "sloppy" compared with the semi-automatic modes. Manual-proportional 

control clearly was not the best way to "park" the spacecraft in one attitude. 

A far better method, he learned, was to rely on fly-by-wire with low thrusters only. 

Passing over Nigeria, Schirra transferred spacecraft control to the automatic 

stabilization and control system and busily monitored his panel dials. Minutes 

later he had traversed the African continent without yielding more than once to 

the temptation to watch the panorama passing beneath him. Moving toward 

Zanzibar, Schirra began to feel warm. He decided to devote full attention to this 

before somebody, as he said later in the postflight debriefing, started "jumping up 

and down in the control center" and yanked him out of orbit. Frank H. Samonski, 

the environmental control system monitor in the Mercury Control Center, had also 

watched the temperature rise. At Mercury Control the suit heat signal, creeping 

steadily upward, had indeed caused the ground controllers to think about terminating the mission after the first circuit. Samonski conferred with Charles A. Berry, 

who had relieved Stanley C. White as flight surgeon in the Control Center. Berry 

believed that the astronaut was in good condition. He advised trying a second 

orbit to see if the suit and its occupant could settle their temperature differences. 

Kraft, the flight director, listened to the two men and decided to give the go-ahead 

to Schirra for a second orbit. Wrestling with communications checks and with 

his suit temperature, he found himself halfway around the world before the Guaymas station relayed the official green light for his second orbit. 

474 
half a mark at a time, then waited about 10 minutes to evaluate the change. Had 

the valve been advanced too quickly, the heat exchanger might have frozen and 

reduced its effectiveness even more. By the time Position 7 was reached, Schirr

was much cooler and felt sure that his temperature problem was nearing resolution

but for good measure he turned to Position 8. Shortly he became a little cool, and 

Samonski recommended that he return to Position 3.5. Schirra, thinking tha

some kind of analysis had been performed in the Mercury Control Center, complied

Immediately noting that the temperature was rising again, he quickly returned 

the setting to 7.5 and left it alone for a while. 

Rounding 'Muchea, Australia, on his first pass, Schirra had nosed the small end 

of Sigma 7 down to watch for the first ground flare launch. He said that he saw 

the flare before realizing the flash was only lightning. Shortly thereafter

Woomera reported flare ignition; the pilot still saw lightning-but only as a big 

blob of light, never like the jagged streaks seen nearer Earth. Again, as on pas

missions, the flare launching area was cloaked by clouds. Minutes later, however

he reported seeing the outline of a city, which he guessed to be Brisbane, Australia

With careful adjustments, Schirra peered into the periscope on his first nigh

trip through space, endeavoring to prove its optical advantages. Very graphically

he finally reported, "I couldn't see schmatze through it. Schmatze translated 

means nothing." He, like Carpenter, found the periscope was excess baggage 

during the daytime and nearly useless at night. Reaching the morning side o

Earth near Hawaii, he recoiled when the Sun, glaring through the scope, almos

blinded him. Placing a chart over the scope, he commented that it "helps no end 

to cover up that blasted periscope." 

Though he did not feel rushed in his few tasks, Schirra did notice a remarkable 

"speeding up of time" as distance flew by so rapidly. After crossing the Pacific

he reported to Scott Carpenter at Guaymas, Mexico, "I'm in chimp configuration," meaning that the capsule systems were all on automatic and working 

beautifully. Even the temperature range had now become more comfortable

and one more adjustment of the knob would end that problem. He then told 

Carpenter that he would soon start his first daytime yaw maneuver, using the 

window as a reference. Schirra said to Slayton, while sailing over the Cape

that the "reticle is working well for yaw, as well as for almost any other attitude." 

Any object that could be seen on Earth could be centered on the window reticle 

long enough to judge yaw misalignment. Always the most difficult of the three 

axes to judge precisely, as demonstrated during MA-7, yaw alignment with the 

flight path was a major control task to ibe tested by the MA-8 mission. Over 

areas of extreme cloudiness, there was no worry so long as rifts or thunderheads 

provided breaks in the blanket of cloud cover. By the end of his first circuit

Schirra felt he had become so adept in determining yaw attitude that he could 

475 
nification he could obtain the yaw attitude faster than with the window, but 

speed was unnecessary in most cases. 

Schirra had to devote much of his time during the first orbit and a good portion of the second to correcting his suit temperature settings. Perspiration salted 

around his mouth as a result of suit inlet temperature reaching 82 degrees F; he 

became quite thirsty, but he resisted opening the visor so the suit could have every 

opportunity to settle in a more comfortable range. Despite the heat-which he 

described as comparable to what he had endured mowing his lawn in Texas on 

a summer's day-all other aspects of the flight were going well. Sigma 7 had 

consumed 1.4 pounds of fuel on the first orbit, Schirra noted as he reported the 

status of the spacecraft systems. He saw the exterior particles first reported by 

Glenn and tapped the cabin wall to obtain the same shower effect Carpenter 

reported. Much of his conversation with the tracking sites involved the status 

of his suit circuit. He seemed to enjoy talking with the communicators during 

his first orbit, but later he would complain that this became a chore, especially 

when he was trying to concentrate on his work. 

On Earth's nightside, Schirra reported that the Moon made an excellent yaw 

reference; after completing and reporting on the yaw maneuver, Schirra told 

Slayton in the Mercury Control Center that he had shifted back to the automatic 

system. By now the temperature had subsided enough to permit a quick drink 

of water. He took the opportunity during this respite to report that all systems 

were performing very well. So far he had felt only one unwanted spurt from a 

24-pound thruster when he returned to fly-by-wire for a yaw-maneuver exercise. 

Becoming a little bored with automatic flight halfway around the world, Schirra 

shifted to the manual-proportional system and produced a similar moment of 

double authority. About two percent of the manual supply spat out in a pitchdown motion of the spacecraft. "It was my boo-boo," he confessed. 

Over Muchea, Australia, on his second pass, Schirra began a more serious and 

considerably more difficult night-yaw experiment. He was to test his ability to 

use celestial navigation to align the spacecraft properly. Using star-finder 

charts, Schirra was supposed to orient himself by positioning Sigma 7 in relation 

to known stars or planets and the Moon. Then he was to test his sense of facing 

to the right or left of his flight path by watching the apparent motions of heavenly 

bodies. The pilot found that the airglow layer was an excellent reference for 

pitch and roll: This belt, which appeared very thick above the horizon, could 

provide reference for these attitudes quite accurately. For experimentation with 

the airglow layer, he positioned Sigma 7 so that it appeared to aim at the upper 

layer of the belt. The panel indicators then showed a zero reference in pitch. 

476 
ygy g

maneuver. To some degree his difficulty stemmed from his star-finder charts

which had been fixed in their relationship to Earth for a period up to about 7: 16 

a.m. on October 3. Schirra, now deep into the second orbit, knew that his 

launch time had been 7: 15. The difference in time, plus his restricted field o

view, reduced the value of this night-yaw exercise; but as it turned out, telemetry 

data received at the Muchea tracking station showed his error to be only four 

degrees. 

During the night-yaw maneuver, Schirra happened to notice one excellen

celestial pattern that he could use to align the spacecraft in the retrofire position 

when it was time to reenter the atmosphere. Checking the panel indicator

against his own observations, he determined that the correct retrofire attitude 

would place the planet" Jupiter in the upper right-hand comer of the window, the 

double-star constellation Grus tracking in from the left side of the window, and 

the star Fomalhaut at the top of the window, near the center. 

Across the Pacific, Schirra again placed the controls in the automatic, or 

"chimp configuration," mode. He chatted with Grissom at the Hawaiian site 

about how well the spacecraft's systems were working. Grissom had made some 

rather strong points concerning the manual-proportional control operation during 

his suborbital flight, and the two astronauts, in a space-to-Earth conversation

compared notes. Just as Hawaii lost his signal and California picked it up

Schirra called that the "fireflies" were coming into view. "I have a delightfu

report for one John Glenn," he told the California communicator. "I do see 

fireflies." Impressed by the view out of the window, even though much of the 

California coast was covered with clouds, Schirra remarked to Glenn, "It's kind 

of hard to describe all this, isn't it, John?" Suddenly, through rifts in the clouds

he could see San Clemente Island, off the coastline. Then, looking northeastward

he saw more of the coastal area come into view, followed by the Salton Sea, an 

excellent view of lower California, the ridges of Mount Whitney, and several roads 

in the Mojave Desert area. 

Although Schirra flew higher than either Glenn or Carpenter, he was rather 

unimpressed by the height of his voyage. Psychologically he had prepared himself for space flight, knowing that he would be flying 10 times higher than he had 

ever flown before. But once in space, the number, size, and detail of the objects 

he could see with the unaided eye, such as roads and terrain changes, made him 

actually feel no higher than he had climbed in an aircraft. "Same old deal, 

nothing new," he remarked in debriefing, "might as well be in an airplane at 

40- to 50-thousand feet altitude." 

According to his flight plan, if the yaw-reference checks had been satisfactory 

Sigma 7 would be phased into drifting flight during the third orbit. After giving 

477 
panel, he closed his eyes and attempted to touch the target points. In a total of 

nine trials, he made only three errors, the largest being a displacement of some two 

inches. The weightless state, he concluded, created no disorientation or new problems in blindly reaching for his controls. 

After that test, Schirra drifted along, reporting his status again to the Canary 

station and enjoying a brief period of looking out the window. He mentioned that 

his outer pane was streaked with a pinkish-orange film and surmised that this had 

emanated from the exhaust gases of the launch escape rocket. According to his 

flight plan, he was supposed to eat and drink now; although he said, "I'm having 

a ball up here drifting," eat and drink he did- peaches and ground beef mush 

from squeeze tubes. 

Out over the Indian Ocean, he informed the tracking ship in that vicinity that 

he had switched the electrical power back on and gone into fly-by-wire control to 

check systems operations after the "powered down," or free-flight, period. Excitedly, the Indian Ocean ship communicator told Schirra that some of the crew 

topside had actually caught sight of Sigma 7 for five minutes and through nine 

degrees of tracking. Schirra, quite pleased, said, "I'll have to go by and say hello." 

The pilot then reported that powering up again presented no difficulty; all systems 

worked beautifully, with absolutely no responses from the high thrusters. 

Smoothly transferring into the automatic stabilization and control system, he began 

to look toward the heavens for familiar stars. When the Moon failed to show, he 

went to the fty-by-wire, low-thruster control to bring it into sight. He identified 

Cassiopeia during the process, then said, "There's our friend the Moon." Over 

Muchea again by this time, he told the communicator that he had locked the 

automatic system onto the disk of the Moon. Mercury Control had alerted the 

ground stations to pay particular attention to fuel usage by the thrusters. Canton 

Island and Kauai, Hawaii, rolled by underneath with everything working so well 

that Grissom, at the Hawaiian station, gave Schirra the official good news that he 

had a "go" for the full six orbits. 

As Sigma 7 came near the California tracking site on its third pass, Schirra 

told Glenn, "I'm going to shove off for a relaxation period," meaning he would 

cut his electrical power, cage his gyros, and start drifting again. Schirra's flight 

schedule now called for experimental observations and photography. He had to 

struggle getting the camera out of the ditty bag, but once out it was weightless, and 

Schirra easily snapped pictures from Baja California to Cuba as Sigma 7 drifted 

along beautifully. Nearing the Cape, Slayton asked for a radiation reading from 

the hand-held dosimeter. Schirra replied that the value was so small that it was 

nearly unreadable. Then Kraft himself came on the air to compliment Schirra, 

to urge him to look for the giant Echo balloon-shaped satellite on his next pass over 

478 
some reason or another, you can tell that the bowl [spacecraft] is upside down.

He saw the whole eastern coastline of the United States, took a picture of that, and 

then another of an interesting cloud formation. Still complaining that the camera 

was difficult to extract, he decided not to stow it in the case for a while. As for 

Echo, he never saw that (or any other) man-made satellite while in orbit. 

Floating through space around the world on his fourth orbit, Schirra took 

pictures that struck his fancy, watched the nightfall, recognized several stars a

they appeared, and looked at lightning in the thunderstorms covering portions o

the Australian continent. As he came over the Pacific command ship, he face

tiously reported to Shepard that his hydrogen peroxide had not evaporated and 

suggested that they should make some plans, the next time around, about retrofire 

countdown. Schirra then tuned on the radar ships Huntsville and Watertown for 

a communications check. As Hawaii was sliding by, he told Grissom that he wa

in inverted flight and that the impression was similar to "looking out a railroad 

train window. You see the terrain going by you." The yaw attitude of the space

craft was clearly discernible against this background. 

As he approached, head down and looking toward California on his fourth 

pass, Schirra joked with Glenn about his "real weird attitude" and transmitted 

another short status report. Then at 6 hours, 8 minutes, and 4 seconds elapsed 

time from launch, Schirra and Glenn began a dialogue heard by much of the \·vest

ern world via radio and television: 

GLENN: Okay, Sigma 7. This is Cal Cap Com. You're at 6:08. Two 

minutes on live TV. Go ahead, Wally. 

SCHIRRA: Roger, John. Just came out of a powered-down configuration 

where we had the ASCS inverter off. It came up in good shape and will stay 

on now for the rest of the flight. The amps and volts are reading properly.... I'm coming toward you inverted this time, which is an unusual way 

for any of us to approach California, I'll admit. 

GLENN: Roger, Wally. You got anything to say to everyone watching 

you across the country on this thing? We're going out live on this. 

SCHIRRA: That sounds like great sport. I can see why you and Scott like 

it. I'm having a trick now. I'm looking at the United States and starting to 

pitch up slightly with this drifting rate. And I see the moon, which I'm sure 

no one in the United States can see as well as I right now. 

GLENN: I think you're probably right. 

SCHIRRA: Ha-ha, I suppose an old song, "Drifting and Dreaming," would 

be apropos at this point, but at this point I don't have a chance to dream. I'm 

enjoying it too much. 

GLENN: Things are looking real good from here, Wally. 

SCHIRRA: Thank you, John. I guess that what I'm doing right now is sort 

of a couple of Imrnelmanns across the United States. 

479 
spatial surprise. Both Glenn and Carpenter had briefed him on the night view of 

the horizon from the heavens, but "it just never did sink in to me that it was as large 

in magnitude as it really was." Schirra remarked that the airglow layer covered 

about a quarter of his view out the window. When first sighted, he said, "I 

thought it was clouds, until stars appeared below." 29 

Halfway through the fourth orbit, liquid collected over the inner surface of his 

helmet faceplate, evidently from the water coolant circuit. Although Schirra was 

annoyed by this problem for the next two hours, he was thankful that the suit temperature remained reasonably comfortable. So long as his visor was sealed, he 

had to crane his head about inside the helmet to find a clear view out of the faceplate. He was still reluctant to disturb his suit temperature by opening his visor to 

wipe it clean. 

Going into his fifth orbit, Schirra told Slayton by radio relay that the flight had 

been his first opportunity to relax since the previous December. His life had 

suddenly become so sedentary that he gladly used the bungee cord exerciser to 

tone up his muscles a bit. "Not exactly walking around," he said, "but a little 

bit of stretching." Because Sigma 7 was now over the Yucatan Peninsula, communications with the Cape were a little strained, causing Slayton to quiz Schirra, 

"Did you say you'd like to get up and walk around?" The ground controllers 

cleared the matter by switching circuits to a relay communications aircraft. 

Schirra now began another check of the manual-proportional attitude controls, 

recording a third brief instance of double authority control. Regarding this 

latest spew of fuel, he complained that he "really flotched it. It's much too easy 

to get into double authority, even with the tremendous logic you have working on 

all these systems." His check of all the axes of movement proved that the manualproportional system was still in good working order. After this trial he returned 

to observing and photographing targets of opportunity. 

As he prepared to look for the 140-million candlepower light near Durban, 

South Africa, Schirra reported "getting some lighted areas over the southern tip 

of Africa. . .. I definitely have a city in sight." Betting that this was Port Elizabeth, a city a little more than 300 miles to the southwest of Durban, Schirra did not 

seem surprised that Durban was being drenched with rain and its brilliant light was 

not visible on this pass. 

Passing into its fifth revolution of Earth, Sigma 7 still performed beautifully 

in all respects. Astronaut Schirra had little to tell the ground tracking station 

except to repeat how well the systems were working and how gorgeous were the 

sights. With each orbit, he was now moving farther from the beaten track 

nominal to a three-pass flight, and the periods of silence were longer. A lighted 

area appearing much like an airport showed up in what he surmised were the 

480 
80 percent in the automatic and manual tanks, respectively. His oxygen supply 

was properly pressurized, and his suit temperature was at a comfortable 62 degrees. 

Shepard replied, "Well, I could say that you were definitely go." Quickly he 

checked in with the Huntsville and Watertown, presenting, as he put it, a "hunky 

dory" report. As the pilot came over the Kauai station, Grissom fed him the 

correct retrosequence time that he should use on his next, and final, pass. Checks 

with Glenn at Point Arguello and with Carpenter at Guaymas showed that communications should be good for checkoff and reentry during the sixth orbit. 

Schirra then bade farewell to South America with a "Buenos dias, you-all," to the 

Quito, Ecuador, communications relay station. 

Going into the sixth orbit, Schirra almost regretfully began his preparations to 

return to Earth. On his last pass over South America, heavy cloud coverage 

obscured most of the hemisphere but he did catch sight of a large winding river. 

He reached for the slow-scan camera and pointed it downward at the surface of the 

window to capture the view, making a panoramic shot of the continent that he 

thought would aid the Weather Bureau in continental cloud analyses. Then he 

stowed the camera, rearranged the contents of the ditty bag and glove compartment, and began going down the checklist of actions to be accomplished before 

retrofire and reentry. 

He shifted the control mode from the automatic system to the fly-by-wire, lowthrusters, and found his command of the system still worked well. He looked 

briefly out the window for the lights of Durban, but clouds still hid the glow of that 

huge lamp from sight. He closed the faceplate, found it fogging again, and 

opened it briefly to wipe the visor clean. The instrument panel showed that the 

inverter temperatures were in a good range, that the battery voltage checked out 

high, and that the oxygen pressure was holding its mark. Although quite comfortable, he decided to advance the suit-circuit knob "just a tad to increase the 

cooling for reentry," to Position 8. The checkoff proceeded so methodically that 

he had time to try another eyes-closed orientation test. He reached for the manual 

handle and felt it in his grasp. Then he reached for the emergency handle but 

brushed an adjacent radio box before touching it. 

Down below, the Indian Ocean ship communicator asked if he needed any help 

in completing the pre-retrosequence checklist. "Negative," he replied. All was 

in readiness for the last-minute arming of the retrorocket squibs. He waited and 

watched until he came in range of Shepard aboard the Pacific command ship. In 

the darkness, he viewed a moonset, saw the proper star and planet pattern for his 

correctly aligned attitude swing into view, and noticed that one of his fingertip lights 

had burned out. Musing out loud for whoever could listen, he likened his situation once again to riding a train on celestial tracks leading back toward Earth. 

Listening to the humming of the systems, he was reminded also of a ship underway 

481 
Shepard asked him how he stood on the checklist. Completed, with the exception 

of arming the rocket squibs, Schirra replied. He told Shepard that his ship was 

holding well in the retroattitude mode on the automatic system, that the high 

thrusters were in good working order, and that he had the manual-proportional 

system in a standby position. With everything set, Shepard gave the countdown 

to arm the squibs on the "Mark!" Next came the retrosequence countdown. 

Eight hours and 52 minutes after Sigma 7 lifted off from the Cape, the first retrorocket fired. When Schirra punched the button for this action, the tiny instant 

of time before the firing "seemed agonizingly long." As each retrorocket fired 

crisply at five-second intervals, Schirra was pleasantly amazed that the spacecraft 

appeared to hold as steady as a rock. Quickly he checked this impression with a 

glance out of the window; the star pattern he could see did not even appear to 

quiver. After retrofire he checked the automatic fuel gauge and found the needle 

hovering between 52 and 53 percent. 

Then Schirra shifted gears to his favorite fly-by-wire, low-thruster mode of 

control. He armed the retropack jettison switch and the spent unit spun away. 

Shortly after retrofire his attitude control felt "a little bit sloppy," and he felt himself wobble toward reentry. Although this could have been corrected by using the 

low thrusters, he intentionally cut in the high thrusters to get into position quickly. 

Schirra pitched Sigma 7 up to the 14-degree reentry attitude with no difficulty and 

cut in the automatic control mode to damp away undesirable motions. Then, as 

the engineers had asked him to do, he turned on the fuel-glIlping rate stabilization 

control system (RSCS). His return to the atmosphere was "thrilling" to the astronaut. He said the sky and Earth's surface really began to brighten, but, most 

surprisingly, the "bear" he rode felt "as stable as an airplane." 

Schirra realized that he had heard none of the hissing noises reported by Glenn 

and Carpenter. Possibly, he thought, his concentration on the rate control system 

caused him to miss the sounds. Having conserved his hydrogen peroxide so well 

thus far, Schirra was quite perturbed with the rate system because he could see the 

fuel supply being dumped like water being flushed. Resisting the temptation to 

switch to a more economical mode of control because the engineers wanted to 

evaluate this system once and for all, he pulled his eyes away from the gauge and 

looked out the window. He could see the green glow from air friction that Carpenter had reported. To him it looked limeade in color, almost chartreuse. 

Suddenly, as a three-foot strap flopped past the window, he exclaimed~ "My gosh!" 

Then he remembered, "That's the same thing John saw." 

Soon the barometric altimeter dial came into operation, and Schirra calmly 

waited for the needle to edge toward the 40,OOO-foot reading. He punched the 

drogue button, heard a "strong thrumming," and then felt the drogue parachute 

482 
pyppj

switch. 

At the I5,000-foot mark he ejected the main parachute and saw it stream and 

blossom at 10,500 feet. This event, as Schirra quipped, "sort of put the cap on 

the whole thing." As he started his descent to Earth, Schirra remarked to Shepard, "I think they're gonna put me on the number 3 elevator" of the carrier 

Kearsarge. Sigma 7 missed this mark by a scant 4.5 miles downrange from the 

planned landing point, but the recovery force had the spacecraft well within its 

sights electronically and visually. The carrier made radar contact with Sigma 7 

at a slant-range of 202 miles; 90 miles uprange from the carrier, sailors of the 

destroyer Renshaw reported hearing a sonic boom. Men on the deck of the 

Kearsarge then saw a contrail, while a few of its crew claimed to see the drogue 

and others heard two successive sonic booms and saw the main chute unfurl. 

After nine hours and 13 minutes in flight, Sigma 7 settled on the water, in full view 

of the ship's crew and the cameras of newsmen. 

Sigma 7 hit the surface with a "plop," as Schirra described it, and "went way 

down" before it surfaced and floated. He waited patiently for 45 seconds and 

then broke off the main parachute and switched on the recovery aids. Inside, 

the spacecraft remained dry and the temperature range was very comfortable as 

Sigma 7 rode the lazy ocean swells. This condition prOompted the pilot to exaggerate in debriefing that he "could stay in there forever, if necessary." Through 

the window he could see the green dye permeating the water in a widening perimeter, and he knew that the whip antenna had telescoped out fully. Seeing the 

antenna pole deploy while Sigma 7 was still submerged, Schirra later joked that he 

thought he might spear another bluefish. All was well, and so far as this test pilot 

could judge, the Mercury spacecraft "had gone to the top of the list," even over 

the F8F aircraft he liked so well. 

Long before Schirra's splashdown, the Kearsarge had launched helicopters 

with swimmer teams, and soon three swimmers jumped into the dye beside the 

floating capsule. During the 30 seconds while he was keeled over in the water, 

Schirra had had some trepidation about his watertight integrity. He momentarily 

wished fOor the pressure regulator handle that had been deleted from Sigma 7 to 

save another pound of weight. As the capsule righted itself and remained shipshape, he noticed that communications had been better with Hawaii than they 

were with the Kearsarge. The pararescue men then cut the whip antenna and 

attached the flotation collar around the heatshield. Since he was comfortable

he radioed a request to the helicopter pilot that he "would prefer to stay in and 

have a small boat come alongside" and tow him to the carrier's cranes. Five men 

piled into a motor whaleboat and within minutes had covered the half-mile to the 

bobbing Sigma 7 and attached a tow line to it. 

483 
acknowledge the jubilant shouts and applause of the ship

s crew. As he walked 

down to the ship's sick bay, Schirra looked tired and hot but happy. . When reporters called out, "How do you feel, Wally?" he replied, "Fine," with a flip o.f the 

hand. 

For the next three days, the Kearsarge was to be his home during the medical 

examinations and technical debriefings. While still in his space suit and sitting 

on a cot in the officers' sickroom, he received successive congratulatory telephone 

calls from President Kennedy, his wife Josephine Schirra, and Vice President 

Johnson.3o 

Richard A. Pollard of MSC, Commander Max Trummer of the Navy, and 

several other physicians began to check Schirra in every medical way possible. 

When his phone calls were completed, about 45 minutes after he came on board, 

the systematic examinations began. At first appearance, the spaceman showed 

no evidence that he was dizzy or required walking assistance. He told the 

physicians, "I feel fine. It was a textbook flight. The flight went just the way I 

wanted it to." Contrary to the impression of some newsmen, the physicians did 

not find Schirra overly fatigued. He talked easily and actively assisted in his 

postflight physical. Only after he had been strapped on a tilt table did several 

unusual symptoms begin to appear. For example, when lying supine his heartbeat 

averaged 70 a minute; standing, it rose to 100. Blood pressure readings, although 

not so pronounced in range, registered differently in standing, sitting, and prone 

positions. His legs and feet assumed a dusky, reddish-purple color when Schirra 

stood up, connoting that his veins were engorged. This condition persisted for 

about six hours, and then the astronaut was permitted to retire for the night. The 

next morning Schirra's heart and blood pressure readings were near normal, and 

there was no evidence of pooling of blood in his legs when he stood. 

Other than this minor anomaly, and the small lesion on his hand, Schirra 

seemed none the worse for his lengthy weightless sojourn in space. Life-systems 

specialists in NASA, at McDonnell, and at AiResearch, however, had another 

question: What caused the elevated suit temperatures during the first two orbits? 

Postflight inspectors dug into the matter promptly. The technical ills of the spacecraft's systems were more easily determined than the subtleties of man's physiological system; as it turned out, the flow in the suit coolant circuit had been impeded 

by the silicone lubricant on a needle valve's having dried out and flaked. 

Postflight inspection of Sigma 7 found little else that seemed out of the ordinary. Circular cracks on the ablation shield were moderately larger than .on 

Glenn's and Carpenter's spacecraft; also it appeared that the shield had banged 

into the fiber-glass protective bulkhead upon impact, causing several small holes. 

Once again the heatshield showed some delamination from the center, but it still 

484 
Oct. 3, 1962 

Schirra, assisted by Cooper, heads 

for elevator that will carry them 

to the top of Gantry 14 where 

Sigma 7 awaits her astronaut. 

Six orbits and a landing later, th~ 

whaleboat from the Kearsarge 

approaches Sigma 7 to help pararescue men secure the capsule. 

Sigma 7 is hauled aboard the 

principal recovery shib Kearsarg-e. 
quality of the mission, of the hardware,' of the software, of procedures, and of the 

pilot were all superb. In terminology the engineers agreed with Schirra that MA8 was a "text book flight" -the best so far. 

Walter Williams was especially jubilant over the MA-8 success; now he could 

confidently turn his operations team to the task of the day-long mission. Schirra's 

conservation of fuel and the excellent manner in which the spacecraft had performed, he said, made planning for MA-,9, if not routine, at least considerably 

easier.31 

Upon leaving the Kearsarge, Schirra received the leis of Hawaii and a tumultuous aloha. Then he flew back to Houston. In a press conference at Rice 

University, he reported about his spatial voyage to an American public that now 

was more conversant with the terminology of space technology. Thereafter, the 

hamlet of Oradell, New Jersey, greeted its most famous son, and from there 

Schirra went to Washington to receive the NASA Distinguished Service Medal 

from the President and, from the Chief of Naval Operations, the Navy's anchored 

version of the coveted astronaut's wings. Throughout the national hurrahs, 

however, the thoughts and words of participants in Project Mercury turned 

toward the advent of the day-long mission, another step toward reaching the 

lunar landing goal in the decade of the sixties.32 

In mid-October 1962 the frightening Cuban missile crisis raised the spectre of 

nuclear holocaust. This dampened some of the postflight celebrations for Schirra. 

When President Kennedy appeared on nationwide television to explain his actions 

in blockading Cuba to force the Soviets to withdraw their ballistic missiles from 

Fidel Castro's island, Americans perhaps for the first time became acutely aware 

of the differences between medium-range (200-500-mile) "defensive" missiles 

and intermediate-range (1 000-1500-mile) "offensive" rocket weapons. Neither 

the ICBM deterrent (defined as having an operational range of about 6000 miles) 

nor the success of Kennedy's confrontation of Khrushchev over Soviet IRBMs in 

Cuba could entirely relax the tension built up by this crisis. But it probably did 

more than any manned space flight had to. educate the public on relative thrust 

capacities of rockets. 

REDEVELOPMENT FOR MA-9 

The flight of Sigma 7 had been so nearly idyllic that some observers, whether 

from cynicism or a kind of parental possessiveness, believed Project Mercury should 

be concluded on Schirra's positive note. Any further attempt at manned satellite flight with this first-generation hardware might press the program's luck too 

far and end sourly, if not calamitously. To cancel Mercury now would ensure 

the reputation of the project. Others argued it would sacrifice the living poten486 
made here; Mercury had begun in earnest in 1959 with a vision of an ultimate 

18-orbit mission. But by October 1959, the inexorable growth in capsule weight 

and power requirements and the limitations of the network had forced the Space 

Task Group to erase that vision. The 18-orbit mission for Mercury had been 

revived by the summer of 1961, in con junction with serious planning for Project 

Apollo and for a "Mark II" ballistic capsule design. And when Project Gemini 

was publicly named on January 3, 1962, as an interim program to fill the void 

before Apollo could be developed, Mercury engineers were already driving headlong toward the revived 18-orbit, 27 -hour mission. 3 

-t 

During the period from September 1961 to January 1962, the word "capsule" 

had been erased from Mercury vocabulary in favor of the word "spacecraft." It 

was then that the Space Task Group (STG) became Manned Spacecraft Center 

(MSC), and NASA Headquarters reorganized Abe Silverstein's Office of Space 

Flight Programs into an Office of Manned Space Flight under a new director, 

D. Brainerd Holmes. In the midst of all this confusion, one thing had been clear: 

a Mercury spacecraft would have to fill the gaps in space, time, and knowledge 

before a Project Gemini two-man capsule could be developed and qualified. 

Although the physiological effects of extended exposure to weightlessness were still 

of primary interest, the only local policy issue was whether to adopt another 

change in nomenclature. Should the day-long sustained space flight be called 

MA-9 or Manned One-Day Mission (MODM)? 35 

Throughout the spring and summer of 1962, Mercury engineers, both at 

NASA centers and in St. Louis, had studied various design proposals for advanced 

versions of the ballistic spacecraft. The first Gemini capsule mockup review had 

been held at the factory on March 29, about the same time that Lewis R. Fisher, 

James E. Bost, William M. Bland, Jr., Robert T. Everline, and others had completed the specifications for a Mercury spacecraft for the manned one-day flight. 

Not until September, however, were negotiations settled with McDonnell over 

configuration changes to the four capsules set aside for this purpose (Nos. 12, 15, 

17, and 20). A week before the Schirra flight, NASA Headquarters announced 

a new plan to phase Mercury into Gemini more quickly, if MA-8 and MA-9 

met all expectations. 36 

After Schirra, Atlas 113-D, and Sigma 7 excelled those expectations in nearly 

every respect, the Manned Spacecraft Center forwarded its sixteenth quarterly 

status report to NASA Headquarters, claiming: 

This report will be the final in the series of Project MERCURY, as such, 

since the MA-8 flight was the last mission of Project MERCURY. Future 

reports, although they will continue with the following number (17), will be 

on the status of the Manned One-Day Mission (MODM) Project (MERCURY Spacecraft). 

487 
Following his MA-8 flight Schirra 

participated in the first shipboard 

technical debriefing of the M ercury program. Present were, left 

to right, Walter C. Williams, 

Glenn, Helmut A. Kuehnel, Robert Mercer, and Schirra. 

Schirra at his postflight news conference, with Robert R. Gilruth at 

left and James E. Webb at right. 

A technical review meeting at 

Space Systems Division in N ovember 1962: left to right, Shepard, 

Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., Kenneth S. Kleinknecht, Walter C. 

Williams, Col. Robert Hoffman, 

Lt. Col. Toby Gandy, Bernhard 

A. H ohmann, a nd Cooper. 

Schirra discusses his six-orbit space 

flight with Paul E. Purser (left), Wern

her von Braun, and Robert R. Gilruth
aim for 22 rather than 18 orbits (or 34 rather than 27 hours), if all went 

normally.37 

Walter Williams, Christopher Kraft, and Kenneth Kleinknecht proceeded 

to coordinate the mission planning with the Defense Department. This flight 

would involve vastly expanded support, because MA-9 was to criss-cross virtually 

all of Earth's surface between latitudes 33 degrees north and south of the equator. 

L. Gordon Cooper was officially announced as the pilot and Alan Shepard was 

named alternate in mid-November. McDonnell had estimated that this mission 

alone would cost $17,879,834 to complete, but as yet the Air Force, Navy, and 

Army participants had not conferred with NASA about new needs for the recovery 

network and medical support. 3S Clearly the MA-9 operation would not be able 

to challenge the 64-orbit feat of Nikolayev in VO,rtok I II nor the 48 orbits of Popovich in the tandem Vostok IV, but MA-9 should go well beyond Titov's 17 orbits 

in Vostok I I. 

Meanwhile NASA and the Manned Spacecraft Center took their cues from 

President Kennedy and Administrator James E. Webb to mobilize greater effort 

toward the longer-range goals symbolized by Project Apollo. Only 55 persons 

staffed Kleinknecht's Mercury Project Office specifically to coordinate the diverse 

preparations for MA-9. Of the 2500 people employed by MSC in January 1963, 

only 500 were working directly on Mercury. The Gemini and Apollo teams were 

rapidly taking shape. NASA had just honored a group of nine old-time engineers 

from the Space Task Group as the "Mercury Spacecraft Inventors." The list of 

innovators was headed by Maxime A. Faget, and included Andre J. Meyer, Jr., 

William Bland, Alan B. Kehlet, Willard S. Blanchard, Robert G. Chilton, Jerome 

B. Hammack, Caldwell C. Johnson, and Jack C. Heberlig. But of that group of 

designers and developers, only Bland still remained employed in the Mercury 

Project Office. The rest had gone to work on Gemini and Apollo.30 

One of the more significant New Year's resolutions enacted by NASA in 1963 

was the appointment of a Manned Space Science Planning Group and of a Panel 

on Inflight Scientific Experiments, known informally as POISE, chaired respectively by Eugene M. Shoemaker and John A. O'Keefe. These two new groups 

were established to replace the Ad Hoc Committee on Scientific Tasks and Training for Man-in-Space and to ensure closer coordination between the Manned 

Spacecraft Center and the NASA Office of Space Sciences. They were only 

temporary expedients, staffed by most of the same people who had served earlier 

as consultants, but at least the manned space science programs for Gemini would 

be born more respectably than those for Mercury.40 

At the first MSC senior staff meeting in 1963, Walter Williams warned his 

colleagues that two recent failures in Atlas-F launchings by the Air Force were 

inexplicable, or so far, at least, unexplained. Unless investigating committees 

489 
rating" tests and procedures, was still basically a ballistic missile, only converted 

and not designed to launch men into space. After five consecutive Mercury-Atla

launches without a failure, it was all too easy to forget this fact. 4l When the 130

D, Cooper's "bird," was first rolled out of the factory in San Diego on January 30

it failed to pass inspection and was returned for some rewiring. 

Amid some charges from impatient newsmen that NASA had "muzzled" 

Cooper, the prime pilot took time out on February 8 to hold a press conference in 

Houston that refuted such public speculation. Cooper forthrightly admitted wha

little he knew about the booster problem and answered in picturesque detail a hos

of questions about new developments for his space suit, his spacecraft, his mission

"This is going to practically be a flying camera," he said, explaining the new slow

scan television monitor, the 70-millimeter Hasselblad and its different film packs

the special zodiacal-light 35-millimeter camera, and a 16-millimeter, all-purpose 

moving-picture camera. Cooper had difficulty convincing some reporters that the 

duration of the MA-9 mission would depend on how well it went-for "as many 

as 22 orbits" -and that he was still "struggling" to find a suitable name for space

craft No. 20. But otherwise he talked freely about the most significant difference

between the MA-8 and MA-9 spacecraft, although obviously he could not name 

all 183 of the changes then underway at McDonnell 's Canaveral shop.4:l 

Weight growth had been the primary nemesis in preparing for every Mercury 

mission, and this was especially true for the day-long mission. As is characteristic 

perhaps of all American technology, and especially of advanced modifications to 

military aircraft, overweight accessories tended to compromise the vehicles' per

formance. In the case of the MODM spacecraft, heavier batteries for more 

electrical power, another 4-pound bottle of oxygen, 9 pounds of cooling and 4.5 

pounds of drinking water, plus 15 more pounds of peroxide fuel were imperative 

additions. Experimental gear, a full load of consumables for life support systems

and various modified components were also judged necessary, though heavier

installations. In an effort to compensate for these added weights, the 12-pound 

Rate Stabilization Control System (RSCS), a 3-pound UHF and a 2-pound telem

etry transmitter, both of which were true redundancies now; and, in particular

the 76-pound periscope were deleted. Manned Spacecraft Center engineers almos

discarded the fiber-glass couch in favor of a new hammock to shave away 17 more 

pounds, but that change did not materialize because the engineers feared the 

material might stretch and the astronaut bounce. So the MA-9 payload continued, through 31 weeks of grooming, to grow into an estimated weight of 3026.3 

pounds in orbit. D 

Such weight increases had become expected, at the rate of about two pounds 

per week of preparation, and early in 1962 the Mercury managers had called for 

490 
gg , 

centers were pleased to gain some voting strength on the 20-man committee established nine months earlier to decide what in-flight scientific experiments should be 

conducted. But the majority voting strength of this panel still remained with 

MSC engineers, whose weight-consciousness and power-consciousness effectively 

stifled the transformation of MA-9 and spacecraft No. 20 into a more purely 

scientific orbital laboratory. H 

Another ground test program behind the scenes, namely Project Orbit, which 

by the end of February 1963 had completed a 100-hour full-scale simulated mission in its thermo-cryogenic vacuum chamber, stirred up concern that the reaction 

control thrusters might get sluggish or freeze during long periods of inactivity in 

space. In all other respects, Project Orbit seemed to certify that the McDonnell 

spacecraft and all subcontracted systems were ready and reliable for a full day or 

more up there. 4 :; 

Meanwhile, the tiger teams at work on Atlas 130-D were exceptionally pleased 

when, on March 15, 1963, the second factory rollout and flight-acceptance inspections on this booster were completed without a single minor discrepancy. 

Philip E. Culbertson, Gus Groissant, John P. Hopman, and David R. Archibald 

of General Dynamics/ Astronautics flew across the country to deliver to their test 

conductor at the Cape, Calvin D. Fowler, what they believed to be their best bird 

yet. Bernhard A. Hohmann and helpers at Aerospace Corporation had defined 

an offset of the booster engines to counteract the threatening roll rate that Schirra 

had experienced at liftoff. And on April 22 spacecraft and rocket were mated. 46 

By the end of April, all plans and preparations had been well laid and revised 

in accord with the precedents and lessons of previous flights. The detailed flight 

plan, technical information summaries, calculated preflight trajectory data, public 

information directives, experiments guidebook, and documentation directives were 

all disseminated. The world was girdled by military and medical recovery personnel waiting for May 14 and the launch of Gordon Cooper. A total of 28 

ships, 171 aircraft, and about 18,000 servicemen were assigned to support MA-9. 

These included 84 medical specialists, a reduction by half in the number of medical 

monitors and corpsmen since Glenn's flight. This was a token of the confidence 

the planners now had in Mercury and its men. 4 7 

But that confidence was not shared by everyone. While Cooper struggled to 

select the most appropriate name for his capsule, criticism of NASA and its implementation of national space goals swelled once again. Philip H. Abelson, editor 

of Science) the journal of the American Association for the Advancement of 

Science; Warren W ea ver of the Alfred P. Sloan Foundation; and Senator J. 

William Fulbright from Arkansas raised voices in protest against the Moon race 

and against manned space flight in general. The costs of manned orbital flight, 

491 
public affairs officers were described by the Washington Post as worried: 

The naming of the bell-shaped capsule-a tradition accorded to the astronaut 

riding it-has given Cooper some bad moments. He has picked ((Faith 7/' 

which has drawn some raised eyebrows in the "image" conscious space agency. 

"Suppose that, for some reason, we lost the capsule at sea," said one source. 

"Then it would come out reading something like, 'The United States today lost 

Faith... .''' 4D 

So much had happened, so many things had changed in the four years sinc

Project Mercury had become publicized by the selection of its seven astronaut

that the Manned One-Day Mission seemed an appropriate new name to symboliz

the differences. Now there was a second class of nine more astronauts-in-training

there was the national goal of a lunar landing before 1970; there were new faci

ities, new administrators, and thoroughly reorganized procedures and policies t

follow. Mariner II, in its magnificent survey of Venus in December 1962, wa

interpreted a few months later as having proved Venus to be one destination i

planetary space that might as well be forgotten as a target for manned landing

Mars remained a mystery, and so also did Earth's Moon~ for that matter, but th

decision to try Project Apollo made Mercury already merely a demigod. Whi

Project Ozma used radio telescopes in a search for evidence of intelligent li

elsewhere in the universe, Telstar II was launched May 7, 1963, to renew th

hope that Earthmen might exercise greater intelligence than they had in the pa

by establishing more intelligent communications with each other.50 

In the midst of the heat of scientific and political criticism of both Departmen

of Defense and NASA space priorities and costs, NASA and the Mercury manage

had to decide what, if anything, should be the next mission after MA-9. 

Walter Williams and others at MSC had their way, an MA-I0 mission, planne

for a three-day sojourn in space, would follow. But they were overruled, an

Julian Scheer, the new NASA Deputy Assistant Administrator for Public Affair

announced emphatically on May 11, "It is absolutely beyond question that if th

shot is successful there will be no MA-l 0." 51 

So Astronaut Cooper knew, as he made the final preparations after four yea

of training, that his flight would mark the end of the beginning. A well-know

life insurance company subscribed to Cooper's faith by underwriting the fir

commercial astronaut policies, including one for Cooper. The Mercury oper

tions team gathered at the Cape the second week in May and found Faith 7, Atla

130-D, and Cooper all ready to take off. Only the weatherman, Ernest A

Amman, voiced his doubts about the May 14 launch date. 5 :! 

At 6: 36 on the morning of May 14, Gordon Cooper was sealed inside h

Faith 7 spacecraft atop the steeple that was his Atlas. He checked off all his sy

492 
The worldwide interest and sense of identification with Project Mercury was always 

apparent. From Glenn's flight on, one country that particularly responded to the 

challenges of manned space flight was Australia. Shown here on April 21, 1963, is 

Premier of Western Australia David Brand (center) presenting the original painting, 

((Perth, the City of Lights," to Manned Spacecraft Center. Astronauts Schirra and 

Slayton accepted this commemoration of Perth's role in Project Mercury. 

terns and awaited completion of the blockhouse and Control Center checkoffs, 

which should count down to ignition about 9 o'clock and lift him up to insertion 

about 9: 05. A suction-cup force pump, the kind commonly called a "plumber's 

friend," had been Alan Shepard's parting gift to Cooper, but the instruction 

inscribed on the handle, "Remove before launch," had been obeyed. It would 

not make the long trip with Cooper. 

While waiting, Cooper heard the secondary control center on Bermuda report 

that its basic C-band radar system was misbehaving both in azimuth and range. 

So he napped for a time during repairs. When Bermuda had corrected the difficulty, at about 8 o'clock, the countdown was resumed, and the gantry was ordered 

back. But the diesel engine failed to move the gantry, and engineers scurried 

around, looking for the proper plumber's helper to repair a fouled fuel injection 

493 
intermittent. The launch was postponed. Cooper emerged from his capsul

saying, "I was just getting to the real fun part.... It was a very real simul

tion." Later that afternoon he went fishing, while checkout crews stayed at th

pad, seeking out unsuspected trouble spots such as the diesel fuel pump.53' 

That night Mercury Operations Director Williams broadcast the word: "A

systems are go, and the weather is good. Let's pick up the count and go

Cooper lay down to sleep, confident that his safety and the mission would kee

until he should awake and take his place. 

Next morning the countdown proceeded smoothly. Cooper had lain in th

capsule only two and a half hours when he heard the final chant: 

"T minus 1 0, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. Ignition. Liftoff." 54 

Faith 7 FOR 22 ORBITS 

Thirteen seconds past 8: 04, range-zero time, on the morning of May 15, 196

Mercury-Atlas 9 lumbered upward the two inches that defined liftoff and thun

dered on toward its keyhole in the sky. Inside MA-9, Astronaut Gordon Coop

felt the smooth but definite push intensify as Faith 7 gained altitude faster eac

second. His clocks marking the moments in synchronization, Cooper shoute

through the din of the afterburner behind him to Walter Schirra, his predecess

and now capsule communicator at the Cape, "Feels good, buddy.... All system

go." 55 

Sixty second:; upward, MA-9 initiated its pitch program, and Cooper fe

the max-q vibrations grow, but the rate gyros sensed greater lateral oscillation

than the pilot did. Six or seven swings from peg to peg on his instruments, an

the flight smoothed out. Two minutes and 14 seconds upward Cooper heard "

loud 'glung' and then a sharp, crisp 'thud' for staging" as booster engines cu

themselves out and off. Then away flew the needless escape tower, and at thre

minutes after launch cabin pressure sealed and held while Cooper reported

"Faith Seven is all go." 

The Atlas sustainer engine continued to accelerate, and its guidance syste

performed perfectly for two more minutes before SECO. Faith 7 and "Sigma 7

swapped remarks on the sweetness of the trajectory. Schirra, at the point o

Cooper's orbital insertion and capsule separation, said, "Smack dab in the midd

of the go plot. Beautiful." And Cooper replied, after turning around on th

fly-by-wire, "Boy, oh, boy ... working just like advertised!" 

In full horizontal flight over Bermuda at 17,547 miles per hour, Coop

watched his booster lag and tumble for about eight minutes, then checked h

temperatures and contingency recovery areas, and tried to adjust to the strang

494 
when he reaches zero g and no longer feels himself lying flat on his back. Status 

checks with the Canary Islands and Kano, Nigeria, came on so fast that Cooper 

could hardly believe he had crossed the Atlantic Ocean and half of Africa already. 

Over Zanzibar, he learned that his orbital parameters looked good enough 

for at least 20 revolutions and that all Faith 7's telemetry was working well. His 

suit temperature fluctuated somewhat erratically, but as he watched his first sunset 

from space over the Indian Ocean he forgot his discomfort while looking at the airglow, spotting the twinkleless stars, and observing sheet lightning in scattered thunderstorms "down under." He saw the lights of Perth, Australia, on schedule 55 

minutes after liftoff, and over Canton Island, in the Polynesian Archipelago, just 

south of the equator, the Sun began to rise behind him (as he flew backward toward the sunrise), and Cooper reported observing Glenn's "fireflies," or Carpenter's "frostflies," drifting along with the spacecraft at five miles per second. 

From Guaymas, Mexico, Grissom, acting as capsule communicator, officially 

relayed the computer-blessed "go for seven orbits." Cooper, audibly impressed 

with the perfection of the flight so far, said, "It's great. ... quite a full night. ... 

everything appears very nominal on board here." As Cooper passed over the 

launch site at Cape Canaveral, Schirra raised him on the radio circuits once again 

and complained, "You son-of-a-gun, I haven't got anything to talk about. ... I'm 

still higher and faster, but I have an idea you're going to go farther." The 

manned one-day mission was off to an auspicious start. Alan Shepard, who had 

been Cooper's backup pilot and was now also talking to Faith 7 from Mercury 

Control, coached Cooper into his second orbit, saying, "All of our monitors down 

here are overjoyed. Everything looks beautiful." 

Cooper thought so, too. All his spacecraft and physiological systems performed perfectly on his first two orbits. His only complaint concerned an oily 

film on his "windshield" that seemed to be on the outside pane of the window. 

Between Zanzibar and Muchea on his second pass, Cooper dozed off for a fourminute nap and then drifted across the Pacific, observing storms while inverted 

and stars when facing spaceward. 

Beginning with his third orbit, the astronaut checked over the 11 experiments 

in which he was to participate. He prepared to eject a six-inch-diameter sphere, 

equipped with polar xenon strobe lights, that was to test his ability to spot and 

track a flashing beacon in a tangential orbit. At three hours and 25 minutes 

elapsed time, Cooper clicked the squib switch and heard and felt the beacon kick 

away. But, try as he might, he could not see the flashing light in the dusk or on 

the nightside during this round. On the fourth orbit, however, he did spot the 

beacon at sunset and later saw it pulsing. So he knew he had indeed launched a 

satellite from his satellite. Cooper jubilantly reported to Carpenter on Kauai, 

"I was with the little rascal all night. " 

495 
excreted periodic samples for urinalysis, Cooper also kept up with his calibrat

exercises, took oral temperatures and blood pressure readings, and did other duti

required for the highest priority experiments of the MA-9 mission, the aeromed

cal ones. 

Also on his sixth orbit, after nine hours in space, the astronaut set his camera

attitude, and switches to deploy a tethered balloon, similar to the one tried o

MA-7, for aerodynamic studies of drag and for more visual experiments. Th

balloon, a 30-inch-diameter Mylar sphere painted fluorescent orange, was to 

inflated with nitrogen and attached by a 100-foot nylon line to the spacecra

antenna canister; a strain gauge in the canister should be able to measure th

differences in pull on the balloon at apogee (166 miles) and perigee (100 miles

Cooper carefully went through his checklist, then tried to eject the balloon packag

but nothing happened. He tried again, and still nothing happened. Becau

the antenna canister was later lost, no one ever knew why the tethered balloo

failed to eject. But the second failure of this experiment was more severely di

appointing than the first. 

When Cooper surpassed Schirra's record by moving into a seventh orbit

pass, he was engaged with the radiation experiments and with the hydraulic wo

of transferring urine samples and condensate water from tank to tank. Durin

the automatically recorded radiation measurements, he had to turn the recorde

on and off precisely on time and estimate accurately, without benefit of gyr05, h

drifting spacecraft's attitude. The hydraulic work was more difficult, because th

hypodermic-type syringes used to pump the liquid manually from one bag co

tainer to another were unwieldy and exasperatingly leaky. At 9: 27 elaps

time, Cooper spoke into his tape recorder, "The thing about this pumping und

zero g is not good. [Liquid] tends to stand in the pipes, and you have to actual

forcibly force it through." 

After 10 hours of the mission, Zanzibar officially informed Cooper that h

had a go for 17 orbital passes. The tracking, communication, and computin

facilities at Goddard Space Flight Center in Maryland had long since settle

down to a routine in following Faith 7 around the world. The actual orbit

parameters for Cooper's flight were proving so close to those planned that th

differences were measurable only in tenths of a mile and hundredths of a degre

MA-9 was circumnavigating Earth once every 88 minutes and 45 seconds at a

inclination angle of 32.55 degrees to the equator. Soon, as Earth turned benea

Cooper, his orbital track would have shifted too much to keep him within range 

most of the scattered tracking and communications sites in Mercury's worldwid

network. Then, too, the word "orbit" would become confused, because passin

496 
ate his supper of powdered roast beef mush and gulped some water; he took pictures over India and Tibet; and he checked all his machinery for readiness to power 

down and drift and dream for the next seven hours or so. Passing from the 

Himalayas to Japan in less than five minutes, Cooper was aroused by John Glenn's 

second transmission from the tracking ship Coastal Sentry, located near Kyushu

Veteran spaceman Glenn assured Astronaut Cooper, "You're sure looking good

Everything couldn't be finer on this pass." Ten minutes later Cooper had traversed the Pacific lengthwise in a southeasterly direction and had come over 

the telemetry command ship Rose Knot, positioned near Pitcairn Island, at latitude 

25 degrees south and 120 degrees west. There he gave a full report on all systems

the shipborne communicator advised him to "settle down for a long rest." 

But Cooper was still too excited and fascinated to feel sleepy. Orbit 9 was to 

carry him again around South America, over Africa, northern India, and Tibe

during daylight, and he resolved to record on film some of the remarkable things 

he could see while looking down at open terrain. On this circuit Cooper snapped 

most of his best photographs, demonstrating his contention that he could see roads

rivers, small villages, and even individual houses if the lighting and background 

conditions were right. High over the highest plateau on Earth, the Tibetan highlands, where the air is thin and visibility is seldom obscured by haze, Cooper 

thought he could even judge speed and direction of ground winds by the smoke 

from the house chimneys. 

In their third radio contact, John Glenn, as "Coastal Sentry Quebec," advised 

Cooper, who had now been in space over 13 hours, 34 minutes, that he should "tel

everyone to go away and leave you alone now." Cooper then relaxed and fell into 

a sound sleep. He awoke drowsily an hour later when his suit temperature go

too high. Intermittently, for the next six hours, during orbital passes 10 through 

13, Cooper napped, took more pictures, taped status reports occasionally, and 

cursed to himself over the bothersome body-heat exchanger that 'kept creeping 

away toward freezing or burning temperatures. At the end of his rest period

Cooper taped his surprise at having napped so soundly that neither floating arms 

nor weightless dreams had startled him into awareness of where he was when he 

woke. But he cautioned psychologists not to make too much of this: 

Have a note to be added in for head-shrinkers. Enjoy the full drifting flights 

most of all, where you have really the feeling of freedom, and you aren't worried 

about the systems fouling up. You have everything turned off, and just drifting along lazily. However, I haven't encountered any of this so-called split-off 

phenomena. Still note that I am thinking very much about returning to Earth 

at the proper time and safely. 

497 
Cooper enters his spacecraft, assisted 

by suit technician Joe W. Schmitt. 

Flight of Faith 7 

May 15-16, 1963 

Cooper photographs the rugged 

Tibetan lake country (above) . 

Mercury Control relaxes after Faith 7; 

left to right, Robert R. Gilruth, D. Brainerd Holmes, and Walter C. Williams. 
percent in the manual. He was in good shape, and all systems were still working 

"as advertised." At this point, Gordon Cooper spoke a prayer into his tape 

recorder aboard Faith 7, high in the heavens over the South Pacific. The MA-9 

mission was well beyond its mid point in time and space, and Cooper was humbly 

grateful that everything was still nominal. Physiologically his vision he knew 

was abnormally good. Philosophically the vision of this eighth man in history to 

orbit Earth in a manned satellite was bound to his culture, his times, and his 

origins in Oklahoma.56 

Orbit 15 was consumed largely in calibration of equipment and synchronization of clocks, since by now Earthmen had experienced one more full 24-hour day 

of grace, whereas Faith 7's elapsed time was faster by some 16 seconds than rangezero elapsed time. Orbit 16 brought Cooper back over Cape Canaveral and 

onward, virtually retracing his first shadow over Earth. The President of 

EI Salvador had radioed greetings on pass 15, and on 16 Cooper sent a similar 

political greeting to African leaders meetinb in Ethiopia. Then he buckled down 

immediately to another high-priority experiment requiring elaborate timing 

precautions. 

As he entered Earth's shadow, or nightside, on this sixteenth orbit, Cooper 

caged and freed his gyros in such a manner as to allow his automatic attitude 

control system to torque the spacecraft slowly in pitch through the plane of the 

ecliptic. He could view, through his window, the mysterious phenomena of 

zodiacal light and night airglow layer. Together these two different objectives 

were called "dim light" phenomena, and the experimental photographs were 

designed to answer astrophysical questions about the origin, continuity, intensity, and reflectivity of visible electromagnetic spectra along the basic reference plane of the celestial sphere. They might also help answer some questions 

about solar energy conversion in the upper atmosphere. From Zanzibar, past the 

Canton Island station, Cooper called out the count as he clicked the series of astronomical photographs. Although the zodiacal light pictures turned out underexposed and the airglow shots overexposed, they were of usable quality and 

supplemented Carpenter's pictures from Aurora 7 nicely. 

Over Mexico, Cooper shifted to the next most important photographic task, 

that of snapping horizon-definition imprints in each quadrant around his local 

vertical position. Just as University of Minnesota scientists had prepared him 

for the zodiacal light task, so Massachusetts Institute of Technology researchers had 

arranged for these snapshots to aid in the design of a guidance and navigation system for Project Apollo. Cooper's horizon-definition pictures marked a significant 

advance beyond those from the MA-7 mission. In contact with the Cape once 

again, Cooper lightheartedly complained like a typical American tourist, "Man, 

all I do is take pictures, pictures, pictures !" 

499 
observers. The eighteenth pass over the United States, like the sixteenth, gave 

his extraordinary vistas of his country from southern California, across Dallas the 

first time and Houston the second, to the Florida peninsula. He sang during 

orbits 18 and 19, still surprised with every pass, still marveling at the greenery on 

Earth and on his instrument panel as he came toward his thirtieth hour in space. 

Although "this fine plumbing they put in this thing" proved more troublesome 

later, Cooper had learned to adjust his suit temperatures for comfort and to eat and 

drink over the rim of his helmet fairly effectively, if awkwardly. Then on his 

nineteenth orbit, while checking his warning lights before a high-frequency antenna 

test over Hawaii, Cooper noticed the first potentially serious systems anomaly of his 

mission. 

A small telelight lit up green, indicating that Faith 7 was decelerating and that 

the centripetal force of gravity had overcome by .05 g the centrifugal force of the 

spacecraft's orbital moment of inertia. This had to be a false indication, reasoned 

Cooper, because he felt, and his loose gear still appeared, weightless. But were g 

forces building up imperceptibly? California confirmed no such indication. 

Mercury Control showed great concern over the implications of this little light 

for the attitude stabilization at retrofire. The fears of the flight controllers were 

realized on the next pass, when Cooper lost all attitude readings. Then, on the 

twenty-first orbit, a short-circuit occurred in a busbar serving the 250-volt main 

inverter, leaving the automatic stabilization and control system without electric 

power. The minor glitch had become a serious hitch. 

Mercury Control Center was in a flurry of worried activity, cross-checking 

Faith 7's problems and Cooper's diagnostic actions with identical equipment at 

the Cape and in St. Louis, then relaying to each communications site questions to 

ask and instructions to give. Cooper remained cool, if not calm, now that his 

alertness had been stimulated by a medically prescribed pill of dextroamphetamine. 

On the twenty-first pass (over the tracking ship Coastal Sentry), John Glenn 

helped Cooper prepare a revised checklist for retrofire procedure during the next, 

and last, time around. Only Hawaii and Zanzibar were within voice radio range 

on this last circuit, but communications were good. When the ASCS inverter blew 

out, Cooper also noted that the carbon dioxide level was rising in both his suit and 

cabin. "Things are beginning to stack up a little" was his classic understatement 

to Carpenter, and then Zanzibar heard him say he would make a manual reentry. 

Twenty-three minutes later Cooper came into contact with Glenn again, reporting himself in retroattitude, holding manually, and with checkoff list complete. 

Glenn gave the 10-second countdown, and Cooper, keeping his pitch down 34 

degrees by his window reticle, shot his retrorockets manually on the "Mark!" 

Glenn reported: "Right on the old gazoo .... Dealer's choice on reentry here, 

500 
And that he did. All the complicated, crowded events of the next 15 minutes 

occurred precisely as planned, while Faith 7 plummeted down through the atmosphere. Four miles ahead of the prime recovery ship, again the carrier Kearsarge, 

just south of Midway Island, the canopied capsule containing Gordon Cooper 

broke through a mild overcast and landed on the lazy waves of the blue Pacific. 

Splashdown came 34 hours and 20 minutes after liftoff. Cooper professed disappointment that he too had "missed that third elevator" aboard "Begonia," meaning the Kearsarge. The spacecraft floundered in the water for a moment, then 

righted itself, as hovering helicopters dropped their swimmers and relayed Cooper's 

request as an Air Force officer for permission to be hoisted aboard the Navy's carrier. Permission was granted, and 40 hot, humid minutes later the explosive 

hatch blew open at the command of MSC engineer John B. Graham, Jr. Physicians examined Cooper for eight more minutes while he lay in the couch. Then 

they helped him emerge and steadied him during a moment of dizziness until he 

regained his equilibrium. Away in triumph marched the one-man crew of the 

one-day Mercury mission. 57 

Like Schirra, Cooper went through arduous medical, technical, and operational 

debriefings aboard the Kearsarge and later back at the Manned Spacecraft Center. 

He, too, was found to be dehydrated and suffering from a slight case of orthostatic 

hypotension. He had lost seven pounds since suiting up, but after drinking "a 

few gallons of liquid," he was fine, ebullient both mentally and physically, and 

convinced that "we certainly can elongate this mission." Robert C. Seamans, 

Jr., Associate Administrator of NASA, and Robert Gilruth, Director of MSC, had 

different ideas about MA-I0, but Cooper reiterated the proof that "man is a pretty 

good backup system to all these automatic systems, and I think the mission was 

conducted just like it was planned ... in spite of ... equipment breaking 

down." 58 

In addition to undergoing technical debriefings over the next several days, 

Cooper was honored by parades through Honolulu, Cocoa Beach, Washingtonwhere he addressed a joint session of Congress-and New York City, where he 

was hailed by one of the largest tickertaped crowds ever to greet an individual. 

Other crowds in Houston and in his hometown of Shawnee, Oklahoma, also celebrated the return of the sixth Mercury astronaut from space. 

The fact that Cooper, like Glenn, had had to take action to save his mission 

from a probable failure added luster and meaning to the glory he received. While 

postflight inspections, data reduction, and mission analyses proceeded through the 

following month to pinpoint the causes of the few electromechanical faults of the 

flight, Mercury systems engineers could find no fault with pilot performance. 

Physicians, however, were cautious about the implications for longer space missions of Cooper's hemodynamic response. 

501 
p

Garden at the White House. Astronaut Cooper (left) and Christopher C. K raft~ Jr. (center), are 

shown with President Kennedy~ 

V ice-President J 0 h n son ~ and 

NASA Administrator Webb. In 

addition to Cooper~ those receiving 

the NASA Distinguished Service 

Medal were G. Merritt Preston, chief of MSC~s Cape Operations; Christopher C. 

Kraft~ Jr.~ chief of the Flight Operations Division; Kenneth S. Kleinknecht~ manager 

of Project Mercury; Floyd L. Thompson~ Director of Langley Research Center; and 

Maj. Gen. Leighton I. Davis, Commander~ Air Force Missile Test Center at Cape 

Canaveral. NASA Group Achievement Awards were made to Rear Admiral Harold 

G. Bowen~ Jr.~ Commander of Destroyer-Flotilla 4~ for the recovery forces~ and to Maj. 

Gen. Ben I. Funk, Commander, Space Systems Division~ for the Atlas program. 

After speaking to a joint session of the 

Congress~ Cooper left the Capitol: left 

to right~ Mrs. Hattie Cooper~ VicePresident Lyndon B. Johnson~ Cooper 

and his wife Trudy~ Speaker John 

McCormack~ and Lady Bird Johnson. 

Part of the 2900 tons of ticker tape and 

confetti that rained down on the official 

party as they rode along Broadway. Official estimate of this~ the largest crowd in 

New York City history~ was 4Y2 million. 
detail to representative scientists at the Cape on May 21 just where, when, and 

how he could see dust and smoke below, from 100 miles directly above-if the 

contrast was right. Also at this, the first and only "scientific debriefing" following a Mercury flight, the value of extensive questioning of the subject pilot was 

clearly demonstrated, when Cooper was asked whether he could see Earthshine 

on the Moon. "Well," he replied, "the Moon was fuller as it was setting than it 

was on the nightside. It was almost a full Moon. Gee, that's funny, I hadn't 

even realized that before. It seemed to be almost full as it was setting, whereas 

on the nightside it was only a third of a Moon. " 50 This Moonshine was clearly 

Earthshine. Other postflight analyses added praise for the sunshine that blessed 

Faith 7. "The sun literally smiled on MA-9," wrote J. C. Jackson and Niles R. 

Heller in Goddard's report of the network radio performance. "It [MA-9] was 

favored with better than average radio frequency propagation conditions for the 

present phase of the solar sunspot cycle." 60 

WHITHER GEMINI? 

On June 6 and 7, 1963, Brainerd Holmes, Gilruth, Walter Williams, and 

Kleinknecht met with Administrator Webb, Hugh L. Dryden, and Seaman'S in 

Washington to make a final decision on whether to fly an MA-10 mission. 

President Kennedy had clearly left thr. decision up to NASA. Webb listened 

thoughtfully to the presentations of each NASA official, and although both he and 

President Kennedy had heard the Mercury astronauts' plea for one more Mercury 

mission, Administrator Webb announced before the Senate space committee on 

June 12, 1963, that "we will not have another Mercury flight." Gl It w,as to be 

22 months before another American manned space flight. 

Project Gemini, designed in 1961 to double the volume while retaining the 

basic shape and systems of the McDonnell-Mercury spacecraft, now was well into 

the development and redesign phase of construction. And the Martin Company's 

mighty Titan II rocket, in spite of a recent explosion on launch, had a record of 

nine cleancut successes out of 16 launches. Another Mf rcury-Atlas flight would 

have been a relatively economical way to extend space technology and fill the time 

(then estimated at a year) before Gemini-Titan could be flight-tested. But now 

that Project Apollo, employing a concept called lunar orbital rendezvous (LOR) 

to land a man on the Moon and recover him, was the ultimate goal of the decade, 

space rendezvous and docking had to be perfected. Mercury had served far more 

than its original purpose, but it could hardly be maneuverable. And so Project 

Gemini was designed to fill these gaps. As people were asking whither and 

whether Gemini was taking them, Mercury died a natural death, while Apollo 

and Saturn were aborning. 

503 

Epilogue 


PROJECT Mercury ended on the threshold of an era of exploration and dis

covery that staggers the imagination. Manned space flight of the most 

elementary sort had proved so successful that mankind seemed destined to embark 

on more ambitious celestial expeditions. The seventh decade of the 20th century 

also promised the logical extension of manned space flight technology beyond 

Earth's orbital corridor. Largely because of Project Mercury, which fostered 

Project Apollo and fathered Project Gemini, the United States had become committed to send men to explore the Moon only 350 years after Galileo first turned a 

telescope toward Earth's natural satellite. 

Precedents set by Mercury were visible in many different ways to the taxpayers who watched the plans for NASA's Gemini and Apollo programs take 

shape. Most obvious was the configuration of the two-man spacecraft that McDonnell was building for launches by the Martin Company's Titan II missile. 

The Gemini spacecraft was to be a far more sophisticated vehicle, with modular 

components easily accessible, with a lift/drag ratio provided by an offset center of 

gravity, with a real, if limited, orbital maneuvering capability, and with ejection 

seats instead of an escape pylon. Except for its doubled size, its countersunk 

viewports, and its lack of the escape tower, however, Gemini looked much like the 

familiar Mercury capsule.1 

Plans and boilerplate models of the Apollo spacecraft-rather, of the so-called 

"command module" that would house three men in a tubby pyramid during 

launch and return to Earth, via the Moon-were being tested by airdrops from 

airplanes, by a second Little Joe (II) booster series, and by pad aborts using a 

tractor-rocket escape pylon. These and other evidences of Mercury's influence 

on design, development, testing, and training for more advanced space flights 

showed that NASA's new Manned Spacecraft Center and its Marshall, Kennedy, 

and Goddard Space Flight Centers were managed and staffed by most of the same 

personnel who had formed the original Mercury team. Growth and thoroughgoing organizational changes affected many individuals adversely, but the core of 

the Mercury team moved forward in the mid-1960s toward further exploitation 

of "lessons learned" from Mercury for manned space flight at large. 2 

I t was primarily to hasten concentration on the accelerated manned space 

program and to move away from the "egg-shell" Mercury package and toward 

505 
Moon. They realized the political and psychological risks of a lengthy delay 

before Americans again went into space, but they took these in stride as necessary 

to the longer range goals. 3 

The week after Mercury was officially terminated, the Soviet Union launched 

into orbit Vostok V) carrying Valery F. Bykovsky, and two days later Vostok VI) 

with "cosmonette" Valentina V. Tereshkova aboard. Both flights ended on June 

19, 1963, after 81 circuits by Bykovsky and 48 by Tereshkova. The flights followed slightly different orbital planes, exhibited no co-orbital maneuvers, and 

thus were similar to the tandem flights of Andrian Nikolayev and Pavel Popovich 

in August 1962. Tereshkova, trained as a parachutist and not as a pilot, became not only the first woman to go into space but also the first "layman," or 

non-pilot-engineer. When later she and Nikolayev were married and became 

parents, their healthy and normal baby seemed to indicate that fears about genetic 

damage from exposure to cosmic radiation were groundless. 4 

Most significantly, perhaps, Vostoks V and VI apparently signaled the end of 

the era of solo space flight. When the Soviets next sent men into space, on 

October 12, 1964, they began a new series with Voskhod I, which carried three 

men around Earth 16 times. And in 1965, the United States- taking what comfort it could, said one historian, from the fable of the tortoise and the harebegan its new Gemini series of twin-seated, maneuverable satellite missions, which 

were to make Mercury seem primitive indeed. When in March and June of 

that year Cosmonaut Alexei Leonov and Astronaut Edward H. White took their 

respective closely tethered "walks" -more nearly "swims" -in space, the fact that 

their command pilots were in the spacecraft to help in case of trouble seemed comforting." Neither cosmonauts nor astronauts were ever again likely to go into 

space alone in their machines. In this sense only, therefore, man's heroic age of 

solo space exploration may be said to have ended in June 1963. 

Almost four months after the passing of Mercury and the last Vostok flights, 

and only a few weeks before the national shock of President Kennedy's assassination, NASA and its Manned Spacecraft Center held their formal, public postmortem on the first American manned satellite program. Staged on October 3 

and 4, 1963, at the Music Hall in Houston and attended by some 1300 people from 

NASA, the military, industry, and news media, this "Mercury Summary Conference" featured 20 papers on the overall program, with emphasis on Gordon 

Cooper's day-long MA-9 mission of May. Covering program management, 

booster performance, astronaut preparation, network operations, and MA-9 inflight experiences and experiments, these papers constitute the best available 

technical overview of Project Mercury. G 

The decorous proceedings were marred somewhat on the final day of the con506 
evolution of the intricate and exhaustive checkout procedures followed at the 

Cape after McDonnell's delivery of one of its capsules to the launch site. Discussing "quality assurance," the authors dwelled on the problem of component 

defects and malfunctions discovered by Mercury inspectors in industrial hardware. 

Inspections for MA-9 turned up 720 system or component discrepancies, 536 

of which were attributed to faulty workmanship. "In Project Mercury," concluded the MSC authors, "thousands of man-hours were expended in testing, 

calibration, assembly, and installation of a variety of hardware that later failed to 

meet performance specifications or that malfunctioned during systems tests in a 

simulated space environment." And often these delays could have been avoided 

"if adequate attention to detail during manufacture or thorough inspection befort> 

delivery had been exercised." ~ 

Although the import of this rather didactic engineering treatise was that the 

history of Mercury spacecraft prelaunch preparations presented a good object lesson 

in the rigorous demands for quality control and reliability testing before manned 

space flight-as opposed to missile, instrumented spacecraft, or even aircraft 

experience-journalists blew the implied criticism of McDonnell into a cause 

celebre. "NASA blasts industry" was the general tenor of the news dispatches 

coming out of Houston. Coupled with the General Accounting Office's contemporaneous criticism of NASA and its contractors in the lagging Centaur program, 

the news coverage of the summary conference added some ammunition for attacks 

on the "great moondoggle." !) 

In a hurriedly called press conference in Houston and in hearings the next week 

before the House Committee on Science and Astronautics, NASA, MSC, and 

McDonnell leaders denied that any resentment or dissatisfaction existed because of 

anything in past or present NASA-McDonnell relations. 10 Congress was satisfied, 

if the press was not, and this rather small tempest in a rather large teapot subsided 

quickly. The furor did suggest, however, that one of the lessons the Mercury 

technical staff had not learned well enough was extreme prudence in all public 

references to relations between NASA and its contractors and other agencies. Possibly the "candor at Canaveral" and elsewhere, for which the press had occasionally 

commended the Mercury team, would be the first casualty of the ongoing manned 

space effort. 

In general, the authors of papers read at the Mercury Summary Conference, 

aware of the difficulty of making technological and administrative generalizations 

in the new and rapidly changing field of astronautics, offered only guarded conclusions about the significance of Mercury experiences for the Gemini and Apollo 

programs. But indirectly there, and more directly elsewhere, they did assess the 

state of the art and science of manned space flight, ask what Mercury had taught 

that might benefit Gemini and Apollo, and even venture some answers.ll 

507 
with either advanced missile or aircraft development programs, this was a good 

record; but many engineers denied the validity of such a comparison. 

:rvfercury mobilized a dozen prime contractors, some 75 major subcontractors, 

and about 7200 third-tier sub-subcontractors, and vendors, all of whom together 

employed at most about two million persons who at one time or another had a 

direct hand in the project. In addition, the NASA complement on Mercury 

eventually reached 650 workers in the Space Task Group and Manned Spacecraft 

Center and 710 elsewhere in research and development support of the project. A 

conservative estimate of the maximum number of military servicemen and Defense 

Department personnel supporting an individual Mercury mission (both MA-6 

and IvfA-9) counted 18,000 people, and another conservative estimate added 1169 

persons from educational and other civilian institutions. Thus, if the estimate of 

1,817,000 workers employed by the Mercury vendors was too liberal and unrealistic, the total peak manpower figure of 2,020,528 was probably as accurate a figure 

as could be obtained. 1 

::! 

"Quick look" total cost estimates given at the summary conference in October 

1963 showed that Mercury had cost $384,131,000 throughout the program, of 

which 37 percent went for the spacecraft, 33 percent for the tracking network, and 

24 percent for launch vehicle procurement. Flight operations and "R and D" 

costs made up the remainder, as then estimated, but the final cost accounting was 

complicated by the unsettled conditions of closing and disposition costs and the 

mingling of Mercury and Gemini costs during 1962 and 1963. Through Glenn's 

flight, however, Mercury had cost about $300 million,u Through Cooper's flight 

NASA estimated the grand total cost of Mercury at slightly more than $400 million 

(see Appendix F). 

NASA engineers and physicians listed three primary "lessons learned" from 

their experience with Mercury for manned space flight. Their foremost medical 

objectives had been fulfilled, and the responses of two men in suborbit and four men 

in orbit had shown that human beings can function normally in space if adequately 

protected. Rather than acceleration g loads and weightlessness limiting man's 

capacity to fly in space, the men who flew Mercury seemed to adapt to "zero g" 

surprisingly well. The main medical problems were simple personal hygiene 

in flight, and the postflight readjustment symptom of orthostatic hypotension. 

Both appeared to be curable by technical developments rather than by preventive 

medicine. 

Secondly, Mercury had proven that final launch preparations took far more 

time than anyone had anticipated in 1958 to ensure perfect readiness and reliability 

of the machines and men. NASA had had designed, therefore, an automated 

digital system for the future, called "ACE," for Acceptance Checkout Equipment, 

508 
, gpy, 

tracking, computing, and display data. Nothing less would suffice for future 

mISSIOns. Two more acronyms came into use, "MCC" for the new Mission Control Center at Houston, and "GOSS" for Ground Operational Support Systems, 

reflecting the degree of complex automation being installed for positive ground 

control of future space flights. 

Studying how they could improve on their performance for succeeding programs, NASA officials and engineers listed several other valuable technological and 

managerial lessons from Mercury. In spacecraft design, problems had been 

encountered with safety margins, redundancy, accessibility, shelf-life of parts, interchangeability, and with materials whose behavior under unfamiliar environmental 

conditions had not been wholly predictable. Regarding qualification of systems 

and components, there should be more analysis in an effort to make techniques 

"conservative, complete, integrated, and functional." Fabrication and inspection 

standards carried over from development into manufacturing work should be made 

still more "rigorous, detailed, current, and enforced." Engineers working for the 

Manned Spacecraft Center, both in Houston and at the Cape, called for continuous 

upgrading of tests, inspections, and other validation procedures, particularly with 

respect to interface compatibilities between systems. In configuration control, 

NASA manned space flight developers recognized their perennial weight control 

problem and their need to become more responsive, more familiar in detail, and 

more aware of danger signals in the production and fabrication phases of their 

business. And the managers of Mercury now acknowledged that methods of 

management that had worked well enough in the first American manned space 

project would not suit Gemini and Apollo, already in motion. They had only 

begun to use the sophisticated Program Evaluation and Review Technique, called 

"PERT," which had evolved from the Navy~ experience in its nuclear submarine 

and Polaris missile development programs. N ow PERT and other management 

tools, such as the incentive contract, would have to be exploited to the fullest extent 

practicable. 14 

Perhaps the most significant lesson learned from Mercury was that man was 

still invaluable to the machine. Mercury saw the evolution of the astronaut from 

little more than a passenger in a fully automatic system to an integral and fully 

integrated element in the entire space flight organism. By the end of the project, 

the Mercury capsule, instead of simply being a machine with a man in it, had 

truly become a manned space vehicle. Mercury Flight Director Christopher C. 

Kraft, an engineer, spoke for all exponents of manned space flight, irrespective 

of discipline: "Man is the deciding element .... As long as Man is able to alter 

the decision of the machine, we will have a spacecraft that can perform under any 

known conditions, and that can probe into the unknown for new knowledge." 1., 

509 
By November 1963) Project Mercury was clearly relegated to an honorable niche ih 

history. The resources that had fed Project Mercury were now reorganized and recommitted toward Projects Gemini and Apollo. That reorientation is underscored in 

this photograph from President Rrnnedy)s visit to Cape Canaveral on November 16. 

As the charts and models show) ttie su~ject is not Mercury but Apollo. The place is 

Blockhouse 34. The briefer is George E. Mueller) successor to D. Brainerd Holmes as 

head of N ASA)s manned space flight program. The front row) left to right: George 

Low) Kurt Debus) Robert C. Seamans) Jr.) James E. Webb) President Kennedy) Hugh 

L. Dryden) Wernher von Braun) Gen. Leighton I. Davis) and Sen. George Smathers. 

Yet as Mercury faded farther into the past and Gemini and Apollo moved 

forward, some profound questions remained unanswered, and indeed usually not 

even asked. 1 G In the democratic society of the United States, did the formal commitment to costly space exploration, and especially the increased emphasis on 

manned space flight beginning in the Kennedy administration, actually represent 

a consensus among the electorate? The pace and chances for success of this 

country's drive toward spacefaring preeminence depended, finally, on the continued willingness of the American taxpayer to pay the bills. However divergent 

may have been the appeals of the two political parties in the 1964 Presidential 

election, neither the Republicans nor Democrats seriously questioned the existence 

of such a consensus. 

Many more mundane problems plagued the times, some seeming so over­

\Yhelming as to demand dramatic and drastic solutions like those widely presumed 

to issue from space technology. But the arrival of the so-called "space age," 

heralded by Mercury astronauts and Vostok cosmonauts, did capture most men's 

imagination and did seem to dwarf the petty quarrels of men and nations. Vague 

hopes for future peace and prosperity accompanied public support of preparations 

510 
eto te oowetwo otee bootes eaed ooted uatu

moil? Questions similar to this found traditional answers in terms of national 

security, scientific curiosity, economic benefits, and technological by-products, but 

ultimately the national commitment was an act of faith. 

Still, many Americans, both technically literate and illiterate, doubted the 

return from the $400 million spent on Project Mercury and the vastly greater 

expenditures being allocated for succeeding manned space projects. A substantial 

portion of the scientific community agreed with Alvin M. Weinberg, Director of 

the Atomic Energy Commission's Oak Ridge National Laboratory, who argued 

that "most Americans would prefer to belong to a society which first gave the 

world a cure for cancer than to the society which put the first astronaut on 

Mars." 1;- Others deplored the fact that the American space effort was basically 

a "race to the Moon," having no nobler motivation than traditional nationalistic 

rivalry. Still others would confine the Nation's astronautical activities to unmanned instrumented space vehicles, thereby diminishing the cost of space 

exploration, as well as presumably avoiding the likely prospect that some day men 

would die in space.18 

Nevertheless, whether most people in the United States approved or not, in 

the mid-1960s it seemed that not only American machines but selected and trained 

American citizens were in the space venture to stay. Project Mercury, leaving a 

legacy that perhaps was even more important psychologically than technologically, 

was already history. Hugh L. Dryden, only a few weeks before his death late in 

1965, expressed his faith in manned space flight and offered a fitting epitaph for 

Project Mercury: 

Man is distinguished from other forms of life by his powers of reasoning and 

by his spiritual aspirations. Already the events of the last seven years have had 

profound impact on all human affairs throughout the world. Repercussions 

have been felt in science, industry, education, government, law, ethics, and 

religion. No area of human activity or thought has escaped. The toys of 

our children, the ambitions of our young men and women, the fortunes of 

industrialists, the daily tasks of diplomats, the careers of military officers, the 

pronouncements of high church officials-all have reflected the all-pervading 

influence of the beginning steps in space exploration. The impact can only be 

compared with those great developments of past history like the Copernican 

theory which placed the Sun, rather than the earth, at the center of our solar 

system; to the work of Sir Isaac Newton in relating the fall of an apple to the 

motion of the moon around the earth through the universal law of gravitation; 

to the industrial revolution; or to other great landmarks in the history of 

mankindY 

511 


FOOTNOTES, SOURCES AND 

BIBLIOGRAPHY, APPENDIXES

AND INDEX 
 

Footnotes 
 

Chapter I failure and the public reaction to it, see Mark 

Sullivan, Our Times: The United States, 

1 See Gertrude and James Jobes, Outer 

Space: Myths, Name Calendars, Meanings: 

From the Emergence of History to the Present 

Day (New York, 1964). 

2 For the long history of space travel fiction 

see Marjorie Hope Nicolson, Voyages to the 

Moon (paperback ed., New York, 1960), and 

Science and Imagination (Ithaca, N.Y., 1965) ; 

Willy Ley, Rockets, Missiles, and Space Travel 

(Rev. ed., New York, 1957), 9-40; Arthur C. 

Clarke, "Space Travel in Fact and Fiction," 

Journal of the British Interplanetary Society, 

IX (Sept. 1950), 213-230; James O. Bailey, 

Pilgrims Through Space and Time: Trends 

and Patterns in Scientific and Utopian Fiction 

(New York, 1957); Roger L. Green, Into 

Other Worlds : Space-Flight from Lucian to 

Lewis (New York, 1958); Philip B. Gove, 

The Imaginary Voyage in Prose and Fiction: 

A History of Its Criticism and a Guide to Its 

Study ... (New York, 1961); John Lear, 

Kepler's Dream (Berkeley, Calif., 1965); and 

W. R. Maxwell, "Some Aspects of the Origins 

and Early Development of Astronautics," 

Journal of the British Interplanetary Society, 

XVIII (Sept. 1962),415-425. 

~ Edward Everett Hale, "The Brick Moon, " 

Atlantic Monthly, XXIV (Oct., Nov., Dec., 

1869), 451-460, 603-611, 679-688. Also 

published in Hale, The Brick Moon and Other 

Stories (New York, 1899). Hale is of course 

better known for another story, "The Man 

Without a Country." 

I Good treatments of astronomical developments in the 16th, 17th, and 18th centuries 

are in A. R. Hall, The Scientific Revolution, 

1500-1800: The Foundation of the Modern 

Scientific Attitude (Boston, 1954); and 

Alexandre Koyre, From the Closed World to 

the Infinite Universe (paperback ed., New 

York, 1958). 

5 Charles G. Abbot, Great Inventions 

(Washington, 1943), 227-229. On Langley's 

1900-1925, Vol. II: America Finding Herself 

(New York, 1927), 562-564. In 1914, after 

numerous modifications and largely as an attempt to invalidate the Wright Brothers' 

patents, Glen H. Curtiss flew the Langley 

aerodrome successfully with pontoons. Fourteen years later the Smithsonian reconciled itself to the fact the Wrights' airplane of 1903 

was the first successful flying machine, rather 

than Langley's aerodrome. See Abbot, "The 

Relations between the Smithsonian Institution 

and the Wright Brothers," Smithsonian Miscellaneous Collections, LXXXI (Sept. 29, 

1928) . 

6 Orville Wright, quoted in N. H. RandersPehrson, History of Aviation (New York, 

1944), 36. For a description of the flight, see 

Elsbeth E. Freudenthal, Flight into History: 

The Wright Brothers and the Air Age (Norman, Okla., 1949), 3-90; Marvin W. McFarland, ed ., The Papers of Wilbur and Orville 

Wright ... (2 vols. , New York, 1953), I, 

395-397; and Charles H. Gibbs-Smith, "The 

Wright Brothers and Their Invention of the 

Practical Aeroplane," Nature, CXCVIII 

(June 1, 1963),824-826. 

7 There are several reasonably good histories of aviation and aeronau tical research, 

including M. J. B. Davy, Interpretive History 

of Flight (London, 1948); Charles H. GibbsSmith, The History of Flying (New York, 

1954) and The Aeroplane (London, 1960); 

Lloyd Morris and Kendall Smith, Ceiling Unlimited: The Story of American Aviation from 

Kitty Hawk to Supersonics (New York, 1953) ; 

Theodore von Karman, Aerodynamics: Selected Topics in the Light of Their Historical 

Development (Ithaca, N.Y., 1954); and R. 

Giacomelli, "Historical Sketch," in William F. 

Durand, cd., Aerodynamic Theory: A General Review of Progress (2 ed., 6 vols. in 3, 

New York, 1963), I, 304-394. See also 

Hunter Rouse and Simon Ince, History of 

515 
9 

), ; , 

States Aeronautical Research Policy, 1915­

1958: A Study of the Major Policy Decisions 

of the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics," unpublished Ph. D. dissertation, 

Columbia University, 1963, 7-16; George W. 

Gray, Frontiers of Flight: The Story of NACA 

Research (New York, 1948),9-15; A. Hunter 

Dupree, Science in the Federal Government: 

A History of Policies and Activities to 1940 

(Cambridge, Mass., 1957),283-287; John F. 

Victory, "The NACA: Cradle of Research," 

Flying, LX (March 1957), 40-43. In 1921, 

NACA installed at Langley a pioneering variable-density wind tunnel, which featured the 

use of compressed air to produce an airflow 

over small models, thus closely simulating the 

flow over full-scale aircraft. 

Hunsaker, "Forty Years of Aeronautical 

Research," 251-254; Levine, "U.S. Aeronautical Research Policy," 7-41. The passage in 

1926 of the Air Commerce Act, which made 

the Secretary of Commerce responsible for encouraging and regulating civil aviation, clarified the role of N ACA and made possible the 

focus on aeronautical research. 

10 The great majority of the people who 

joined the research staff o'f NACA during the 

history of the organization, 1915-1958, held 

degrees in engineering rather than the physical 

sciences. Thus "research engineer" became 

the most common formal designation for those 

working in aeronautical science for NACA. 

Jt Gray, Frontiers of Flight, 33-70; Hunsaker, "Forty Years of Aeronautical Research," 

254-259. The classic text on subsonic aerodynamics is Richard von Mises, Theory of 

Flight (2 ed., New York, 1959) . 

12 Elsbeth E. Freudenthal, The Aviation 

Business: Kitty Hawk to Wall Street (New 

York, 1940),62-304; John B. Rae, "Financial 

Problems of the American Aircraft Industry," 

Business History Review, XXXIX (spring 

1965),99-114. 

13 By 1938 the altitude record set for aircraft, as established by an Italian aviator, had 

reached beyond 56,000 feet. Eugene M . 

Emme, Aeronautics and Astronautics: An 

American Chronology of Science and Technology in the Exploration of Space, 1915-1960 

(Washington, 1961),162. 

(g, ), 

NACA organizational structure, in addition to 

the 15-member Main Committee, which established the research policies of the agency, and 

the various field installations, eventually included four technical committees, charged with 

studying problems in particular areas of aeronautical science and recommending to the 

Main Committee changes in policy and practice. The membership of the various technical committees, like that of the Main Committee, came from the military, the aircraft 

industry, and the academic community. Each 

of the technical committees had subcommittees. In 1957 the technical committees were: 

Aerodynamics, Power Plants, Aircraft Construction, and Operating Problems. See Fortythird Annual Report of NACA-1957 

(Washington, 1957) . 

10 Gray, Frontiers of Flight, 19-33; Hunsaker, "Forty Years of Aeronautical Research," 

261-262. 

17 Nicholas J. Hoff and Walter G. Vincenti

eds., Aeronautics and Astronautics: Proceedings of the Durand Centennial Conference 

Held at Stanford University, 5-8 August, 1959 

(New York, 1960), 16. 

18 Edgar Buckingham, "Jet Propulsion for 

Airplanes," in NACA Report No. 159, in Ninth 

Annual Report of NACA-1923 (Washington

1924), 75-90. 

]9 Hunsaker, "Forty Years of Aeronautical 

Research," 266-267; Levine, "U.S. Aeronautical Research Policy," 81-89. 

~o See Robert L. Perry, "The Antecedents of 

the X-I," paper, American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics, San Francisco, July 

26-28, 1965, 2-17; and Ley, Rockets, Missiles, 

and Space Travel, 411-413. 

2l Hunsaker, "Forty Years of Aeronautical 

Research," 267. See also John B. Rae

"Science and Engineering in the History of 

Aviation," Technology and Culture, III (fall 

1961),391-399. Hunsaker, head of the Department of Aeronautical Engineering at the 

Massachusetts Institute of Technology and a 

member of the Main Committee since the 

1930s, assumed the chairmanship of NACA in 

1941 on Bush's resignation. 

22 On the role of air power in the Second 

World War, see Eugene M. Emme, "The Im516 

(Princeton, N.]., 1959), 209294; and Wesley 

F. Craven and James L. Cate, eds., History of 

the Army Air Forces in World War II (7 vols., 

Chicago, 1948- 1955). 

23 See C. Fayette Taylor, "Aircraft Propulsion: A Review of the Evolution of Aircraft 

Powerplants," Report of the Smithsonian Institution for 1 961 (Washington, 1962) , 245­

298. 

24 The best-known of these advisory groups 

was the so-called von Karman Committee, established late in 1944 at the direction of Henry 

H. Arnold, Commanding General of the Army 

Air Forces, and headed by Theodore von 

Karman, of the California Institute of Technology. After surveying wartime achievements 

in aeronautical science and rocketry, the panel 

of scientists published its findings in August 

1945 and its recommendations in December. 

While giving full credit to the German accom­

. plishments 	 in rocketry, the von Karman committee concluded that jet propulsion offered the 

key to "air supremacy," and that progress 

toward long-range ballistic missiles should come 

through the development of air-breathing pilotless aircraft. The philosophy embodied in 

these 14 reports was to guide Air Force thinking for almost 10 years. See Army Air Forces 

Scientific Advisory Group, Toward New Horizons: A Report to General of the Army H. H . 

Arnold (14 vols. [Washington], 1945) . For a 

retrospect of the findings of the committee, see 

Hugh L. Dryden, "Toward the New Horizons 

of Tomorrow : First Annual ARS von Kannan 

Lecture," Astronautics, XII (Jan. 1963), 14­

19. Dryden served as deputy scientific director 

to von Karman on the committee. 

25 Levine, "U.S. Aeronautical Research 

Policy," 91 - 97; Hunsaker, "Forty Years of 

Aeronautical Research," 267-268. 

2B The unitary plan was designed to provide 

dispersed NACA-Air Force wind-tunnel facilities characterized by a minimum of overlap and 

a maximum of variety. Five new supersonic 

wind tunnels were constructed, one at each of 

the NACA laboratories and two at a new Air 

Force installation, the Arnold Engineering Development Center at Tullahoma, Tenn. See 

Manual for Users of the Unitary Plan Wind 

Tunnel Facilities (Washington, 1956); and 

Alan Pope, Wind-Tunnel Testing (2 ed., New 

York, 1954). 

History of NACA Transonic Research, Langley Aeronautical Laboratory, undated copy in 

Archives of the Manned Spacecraft Center 

(MSC) , Houston. Unless otherwise indicated, 

originals or copies of all primary materials cited 

in this work are located in the MSC Archives. 

The Langley engineers also pursued their 

transonic investigations with a method devised 

in 1944 by Gilruth, whereby small models of 

wings or complete aircraft were attached to the 

upper wing surface of an airplane, thus employing the accelerated airflow over the wing 

surface for studying the aerodynamic characteristics of the model at transonic speeds. 

28 Perry, "Antecedents of the X-I," 18-20; 

Kenneth S. Kleinknecht, "The Rocket Research 

Airplanes," in Eugene M. Emme, ed., The 

History of Rocket Technology: Essays on Research, Development, and Utility (Detroit, 

1964), 193-198; Hunsaker, "Forty Years of 

Aeronautical Research," 268, 269; Gray, Frontiers of Flight, 334-336; Ley, Rockets, Missiles, 

and Space Tra vel, 419-432. Because of the 

fear that the X-I, operating with an entirely 

new rocket powerplant, might not be ready as 

early as planned, the NACA-Air Force-Navy 

'group concurrently developed a jet-propelled 

research airplane, the Douglas D-558-1. This 

was also in keeping with NACA's original conviction, shared by the Navy, that the first research aircraft would be turbojet-powered. 

2~ Kleinknecht, "Rocket Research Airplanes," 199-204; Ley, Rockets, Missiles, and 

Space Tra vel, 424-426 ; Charles V. Eppley, The 

Rocket Research Aircraft Program, 1946-1962 

(Edwards Air Force Base, Calif., 1962), 1- 25; 

Hunsaker, "Forty Years of Aeronautical Research," 269; James A. Martin, "The RecordSetting Research Airplanes," Aeronautical 

Engineering Review, XXI (Dec. 1962), 49-54; 

Walter C. Williams and Hubert M. Drake, 

"The Research Airplane: Past, Present, and 

Future," Aeronautical Engineering Re view, 

XVII (Jan. 1958),36-41; Walter T. Bonney, 

"High-Speed Research Airplanes," Scientific 

American, CLXXXIX (Oct. 1953), 36-41. 

For the experiences of two rocket-airplane test 

pilots, as well as for useful treatments of the 

postwar research aircraft series, see A. Scott 

Crossfield and Clay Blair, Always Another 

Dawn (Cleveland, 1960) ; and William Bridgeman and Jacqueline Hazard, The Lonely Sky 

(New York, 1955). 

517 
the Langley laboratory. Whitcomb collected 

data on the lengthwise distribution of fuselage 

and wing volume and suggested an airplane 

configuration that minimized drag at supersonic 

speeds. Whitcomb's findings, known as the 

"area rule," indicated that a coke-bottle, or 

wasp-'vvaisted, shape would significantly increase 

the speed of jet-propelled airplanes. The importance of the area rule was reflected in the 

configuration of practically every jet interceptor 

designed and built for both the Air Force and 

the Navy in the mid-1950s. See Richard T. 

Whitcomb, "A Study of the Zero-Lift DragRise Characteristics of Wing-Body Combinations Near the Speed of Sound," NACA Tech. 

Report 1273, Forty-Second Annual Report of 

the NACA-/956 (Washington, 1957), 519­

539. 

l Discussions of the principles of rocketry 

can be found in many places, but some of the 

most lucid explanations from the layman's 

standpoint are in Ley, Rockets, Missiles, and 

S pace Travel, 60-65; Erik Bergaust and Seabrook Hull, Rocket to the Moon (Princeton, 

N.]., 1958), 33-43; Ralph S. Cooper, "Rocket 

Propulsion," Report of the Smithsonian Institution for 1962, 299-313; and Andrew G. 

Haley, Rocketry and Space Exploration 

(Princeton, N.]., 1958), 33- 43. See also 

NASA news release, unnumbered, "Liquid 

Propellant Rocket Engines," Jan. 1962. 

Equally informative as an introduction to 

rocketry but historically important as a spur 

to enthusiasts was G. Edward Pendray's The 

Coming Age of Rocket Power (New York, 

1945), wherein rocket efficiency was pictured 

as opening "the way to an entire new world of 

velocities, altitudes, and powers which have 

hitherto been closed to us; and consequently 

to a whole new world of human experiences 

and possibilities" (p. 9) . 

~ See A. A. Blagonravov, ed. , Collected 

Works of K . E. Tsiolkovsky, Vol. II: Reactive 

Flying Machines, NASA TT F-237 (Washington, 1965). 

33 For biographical information on Tsiolkovsky, see A. Kosmodemyansky, Konstantin 

Tsiolkovsky, His Life and Work, trans. X . 

Danko (Moscow, 1956); Albert Parry, Russia's Rockets and Missiles (Garden City, N.Y., 

1960), 94-104; Beryl Williams and Samuel 

Epstein, The Rocket Pioneers on the Road to 

518 

6364; V. N. Sokolskiy, The Works of the 

Russian Scientist-Pioneers of Rocket Tech

nology," in T. M . Melkumov, ed., Pioneers o

Rocket Technology (Moscow, 1964), NASA 

TT F-9285 (Washington, 1965), 125-162. 

:\.\ Biographical material on Goddard, little 

known outside of scientific circles until recen

years, is accumulating rapidly. A valuable bu

not definitive biography is Milton Lehman

This High Man: The Life of Robert H. God

dard (New York, 1963) . See also E. R. Hage

mann, "Goddard and His Early Rockets

1882-1930," Journal of the Astronautica

Sciences, VII (Summer 1961),51-59; Eugene 

M. Emme, "Yesterday's Dream-Today'

Reality," Air Power Historian, VII (Oct. 

1960), 216- 221 ; G. Edward Pendray, "Pionee

Rocket Development in the United States," in 

Emme, The History of Rocket Technology

19-23; also published in Technology and Cul

ture, IV (Fall 1963), 384-388; Williams and 

Epstein, Rocket Pioneers, 70-110; Shirley 

Thomas, Men of Space (6 vols., Philadelphia

1960-1963), I, 23- 46; Gartmann, Men Behind 

the Space Rockets; and Emme, A History o

Space Flight (New York, 1965),85- 87. 

:l.> Goddard's 1920 Smithsonian Institution 

report and a less famous report to the Smith

sonian summarizing his findings to 1936 are 

in Robert H. Goddard, Rockets, Comprising 

"A Method of Reaching Extreme Altitudes

and "Liquid-Propellant Rocket Development

(New York, 1946). A condensation of God

dard's notebooks is Esther C. Goddard and 

G. Edward Pendray, eds., Rocket Develop

ment: Liquid-Fuel Rocket Research, 1929

1941 (New York, 1961). The eastern daily 

newspapers seized on Goddard's "moon-rocket

reference in his first Smithsonian paper and 

blew it completely out of proportion. Some 

journals, having no conception of the me

chanics of rocketry, even ridiculed the idea 

that a rocket could ascend into space, because 

in a vacuum it would have nothing to "reac

against." See, for example, the lead editoria

in New York Times, Jan. 13,1920. The storm 

of embarrassing publicity doubtless abetted the 

aversion to notoriety that characterized God

dard throughou t his career. 

30 Pendray, "Pioneer Rocket Developmen

in the United States," 21-23; Pendray, The 
Qy 

Society," Jet Propulsion, XXV (Nov. 1955), 

586-593. 

38 Frank J. Malina, "Origins and First 

Decade of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory," in 

Emme, ed ., History of Rocket Technology, 

52-54. 

~u Ibid. , 46-66; Haley; Rocketry and Space 

Exploration, 97- 99; Ley, Rockets, Missiles, and 

Space Travel, 249-250, 436, 438 ; Perry, 

"Antecedents of the X-I," 20-23. 

40 An exception to the pattern of private 

sponsorship of rocket societies was the "Group 

for the Study of Rocket Propulsion Systems," 

known as GIRD, established under government auspices in the Soviet Union in 1931. 

House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 

87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), House Report No. 67, 

A Chronology of Missile and Astronautic 

Events, 3; G. A. Tokaty, "Soviet Rocket Technology," in Emme, ed., History of Rocket 

Technology, 275-276; also published in Technology and Culture, IV (Fall 1963),520-521. 

41 On Oberth see Williams and Epstein, 

Rocket Pioneers, 111, 143; Gartmann, Men 

Behind the Space Rockets,' Ley, Rockets, 

Missiles, and Space Travel, 108-130; William 

Meyer-Cords, "Introduction" to Hermann 

Oberth, Man into Space: New Projects for 

Rocket and Space Travel, trans. G. P. H. 

deFreville (New York, 1957), vii-xiv; Hermann Oberth, "From My Life," Astronautics, 

IV (June 1959), 38-39, 100-104; and 

G. V. E. Thompson, "Oberth-Doyen of 

Spaceflight Today," Spaceflight, I (Oct. 1957), 

170-171. 

42 Ley, Rockets, Missiles, and Space Travel, 

118-162,197-201; WaIter Dornberger, "The 

German V-2," in Emme, ed., History of Rocket 

Technology, 29-33; also published in Technology and Culture, IV (Fall 1963),394-395. 

Williams and Epstein, Rocket Pioneers, 144­

170. Von Braun received a doctorate in 

physics from the University of Berlin in 1934. 

4~ See WaIter Dornberger, V-2 (New York, 

1954); Dornberger, "The German V-2," 

33-45; Williams and Epstein, Rocket Pioneers, 

204-231; Ley, Rockets, Missiles, and Space 

Travel, 202-231; Dieter K. Huzel, Peenemunde to Canaveral (Englewood Cliffs, N.]., 

1962); Leslie G. Simon, German Research in 

World War II: An Analysis of the Conduct of 

yp

212-217; Kurt H . Debus, "Evolution of 

Launch Concepts and Space Flight Operations," in Ernst Stuhlinger, Frederick 1. Ordway III, Jerry C. McCall, and George C. 

Bucher, cds., From Peenemunde to Outer 

Space: Commemorating the Fiftieth Birthday 

of Wernher von Braun (Huntsville, Ala., 1962), 

45. During the powered phase of its flight 

within the atmosphere the V-2 was stabilized by 

large aerodynamic fins. 

4•• Chronology of Missile and Astronautic 

Events, 7; Dornberger, "The German V-2," 

32-33. "Vengeance Weapon No. 1"­

V-I-was a radio-controlled, subsonic guided 

missile powered by a pulsejet engine, developed by the German Air Force . Besides the 

A-4, the accomplishments of the Peenemiinde 

rocket workers included the launching in the 

early part of 1945 of a winged A-4, called 

the A-9, which they had designed as the 

upper stage of a rocket to attack the United 

States. And by the end of the war Eugen 

Sanger, already well-known as an Austrian 

rocket scientist before going to work for the 

Luftwaffe, and Irene Bredt, a noted German 

physicist, had written an elaborate report containing a design for an antipodal rocket 

bomber that would skip in and ou t of the atmosphere to drop its payload and land halfway 

around the world. See also Eugen Sanger, 

Rocket Flight Engineering, NASA TT F-223 

(Washington, 1965) . 

46 Senate Preparedness Subcommittee of 

the Committee on Armed Services, 85 Cong., 

1 and 2 sess. (1957-58), Inquiry into S atellite and Missile Programs, Hearings, testimony 

of Wernher von Braun, Part 1, 850; David S. 

Akens, Historical Origins of the George C. 

Man'hall Space Flight Center (Huntsville, 

Ala., 1960), 24-29; Tokaty, "Soviet Rocket 

Technology," 278-279; James McGovern, 

Crossbow and Overcast (New York, 1964); 

Clarence G. Lasby, "German Scientists in 

America: Their Importation, Exploitation, and 

Assimilation, 1945-1952," unpublished Ph. D. 

dissertation, University of California at Los 

Angeles,1962 , All together, Paperclip brought 

nearly 500 aeronautical and rocket scientists, 

engineers, and technicians to the United States. 

41 Quoted in Tokaty, "Soviet Rocket 

Technology," 279. 

48 Inquiry into Satellite and Missile Pro519 
gy

Gl Ibid., 282-283; Parry, Russia's Rockets 

and Missiles, 131-133; Frederick 1. Ordway 

III, and Ronald C. Wakeford, International 

Missile and Spacecraft Guide (New York, 

1960), 3-4; Donald J. Ritchie, "Soviet Rocket 

Propulsion," in Donald P. LeGalley, ed., Ballistic Missile and Space Technology, Vol. II: 

Propulsion and Auxiliary Power Systems (New 

York, 1960), 55-85; Chronology of Missile 

and Astronautic Events, 26; Charles S. Sheldon 

II, "The Challenge of International Competition," paper, Third American Institute of 

Aeronautics and Astronautics/NASA Manned 

Space Flight Meeting, Houston, Nov. 6, 1964. 

5~ Among the air-breathing guided missiles 

(a term that simply meant any pilotless flying 

craft) designed and developed by the Navy 

and the Air Force in the first decade after the 

war were the Gorgon, Plover, Regulus, Cobra, 

Bomarc, Snark, Matador, and Loon, the last 

being a Navy version of the German V-I. Of 

these weapons only the Snark was a genuinely 

long-range, or intercontinental, missile, and it 

was subsonic and thus vulnerable to radarcontrolled antiaircraft rockets. See Ordway 

and Wakeford, International Missile and 

Spacecraft Guide, 3-5, 8-9, 15-16, 20-24, 26, 

61. 

53 Quoted, among many other places, in 

Inquiry into Satellite and Missile Programs, 

Part I, 283 . For a more lengthy argument 

against early attempts to develop intercontinental ballistic missiles, see Vannevar Bush, . 

Modern Arms and Free Men (New York, 

1949). 

M See Kenneth W. Gatland, Development 

of the Guided Missile (London, 1954); and 

Nels A. Parsons, Guided Missiles in War and 

Peace (Cambridge, Mass., 1956), and Missiles and the Revolution in Warfare (Cambridge, Mass., 1962). 

5, On the postwar V-2 program at White 

Sands and Cape Canaveral, see U.S. Army 

Ordnance Corps/General Electric Co., Hermes 

Guided Missile Research and Development 

Project, 1944-1954 (Sept. 25,1959),1-4; 

Ley, Rockets, Missiles, and Space Travel, 254­

271; Akens, Historical Origins of the Marshall 

Space Flight Center, 28-35; Ernest Krause, 

"High Altitude Research with V-2 Rockets," 

520 

On Thanksgiving Day 1963, several month

after Project Mercury officially ended, Pres

dent Lyndon B. Johnson renamed Cape Canav

eral, Cape Kennedy. Since that is beyon

the historical context of this study, throughou

the rest of this work Cape Canaveral will b

used. 

,>Il Ibid., 178-194; Homer E. Newell, Sound

ing Rockets (New York, 1959),54-95; Emme

Aeronautics and Astronautics, 53-54, 58-59

63,67,69-70, 77. 

57 On the Viking see Ley, Rockets, Missile

and Space Travel, 271-276; Milton Rosen

The Viking Rocket Story (New York, 1955

John P. Hagen, "The Viking and the Van

guard," in Emme, ed., History of Rocket Tech

nology, 123-125; also published in Technolog

and Culture, IV (Fall 1963), 436-437; Vaeth

200 Miles Up, 195-206; and Newell, Soundin

Rockets, 235-242. The first Viking shot, fire

in May 1950 from the deck of the Norto

Sound in the Pacific, set a new single-stag

altitude record, 106.6 miles. 

1;8 On the Navaho see Ordway and Wak

ford, International Missile and Spacecra

Guide, 9-10; and Emme, Aeronautics an

Astronautics, 64, 70, 72, 74, 76, 77, 86. B

sides booster development, the technologic

heritage from the Navaho program include

the airframe for the Hound Dog air-to-surfac

missile, progress in using titanium for stru

tures, and the guidance system for nuclea

powered submarines. 

59 Akens, Historical Origins of the Marsha

Space Flight Center, 36-37; Wernher vo

Braun, "The Redstone, Jupiter, and Juno," 

Emme, ed., History of Rocket Technolog

108-109; also published in Technology an

Culture, IV (Fall 1963), 452-455; A. A. M

Cool and Keith B. Chandler, "Developme

Trends in Liquid Propellant Engines," 

Stuhlinger, Ordway, McCall, and Bucher, eds

From Peenemunde to Outer Space, 292; Joh

W. Bullard, "History of the Redstone Missi

System," Hist. Div., Army Missile Comman

Oct. 1965, 135-151. The creation of the Nor

Atlantic Treaty Organization in 1949 had pr

vided a clear military need for a battlefie

rocket. 

00 Jane's All the World's Aircraft, 196

1963 (London, 1963), 391-392; von Brau
( 

projectile fired along a ballistic, or high-arc , 

trajectory, reaching an altitude of several hundred miles before falling freely toward its target. 

Such a vehicle is to be distinguished from the 

jet-propelled guided missile , which is controlled 

throughout its flight, requires oxygen within the 

air for its propellant oxidizer, and can operate 

only within the atmosphere. Thus by definition a ballistic missile, which reaches well into 

space, is a rocke t. 

II:! John L. Chapman, Atlas: The Story of a 

Missile (New York, 1960) , 30-54; Inquir y into 

Satellite and A1issile Programs, testimony of 

James R . Dempsey, Part 2, 1871-1872. 

C.3 Chapman, Atlas, 60-62: Inquir y into 

Satellite and Missile Programs, testimony of 

Dempsey, Part 2, 1872; Robert L. Perry, "The 

Atlas, Thor, Titan, and Minuteman," in Emme, 

cd., History of Rocket Technology, 143; also 

published as "The Atlas, Thor, and Titan," in 

Technology and Culture , VI (Fall 1963 ), 467 . 

G \ House Select Committee on Astronautics 

and Space Exploration, 85 Cong., 2 sess. 

( 1958), Astronautics and Space Exploration, 

Hearings, testimony of Bernard A. Schriever, 

668; Chapman, Atlas, 70-74; Bernard A. 

Schriever, "The USAF Ballistic Missile Program," in Kenneth F. Gantz, cd., The United 

States Air Force Report on the Ballistic Missile (Garden City, N.Y., 1958), 2-28 ; House 

Committee on Government Operations, 86 

Cong., 1 sess. (1959), House Report No. 1121, 

Organization and Management of Missile Programs, 70-71 ; Ernest G. Schwiebert, A Hist ory 

of the U.S . Air Force Ballistic Missiles (Ne\\' 

York, 1965),67-73. 

G•• Astronautics and Space Exploration, testimony of Schriever, 668. See also, Herman 

Kahn, On Thermonuclear War (Princeton, 

N.]., 1961), and Thinking about the Unthinkable (New York, 1962). 

011 See Schwiebert, Air Force Ballistic Missiles, 75-95 . 

G7 On this point Schriever elaborated : "I 

think the Air Force philosophy of having industry do development and having the capability of planning for production simultaneously 

is a much better way . . . . The Air Force had 

quite a number of German scientists right after 

the war at Wright Field, and made, deliberately 

made, the decision not to try to retain that 

group of scientists as a group, similar to what 

g 

pp

industry, are doing equally as good a job for 

the United States as this one small group that 

are still assembled at the Redstone Arsena!." 

Inquiry into Satellite and Missile Programs, 

Part 2, testimony of Schriever, 1637-1638. 

"~Chapman, Atlas, 74, 78 ; Schriever, 

"USAF Ballistic Missile Program," 28; Perry, 

"Atlas, Thor, Titan, and Minuteman," 144­

148; Organization and Management of Missile 

Programs, 73-79; Thomas, Men of Space, II, 

143-149. The Ramo-Wooldridge Corporation 

\\as established by Simon Ramo and Dean 

Wooldridge , missile experts who, as employees 

of the Hughes Aircraft Company, had served on 

the Teapot Committee. They left Hughes in 

1953 to set up their missiles research and management firm. For a description of the role of 

Space Technology Laboratories in the American missile effort and a cri tique of the STL/Air 

Force arrangement, see Organization and M anagement of Missile Programs, 81-100. In 

1958 the Ramo-Wooldridge Corporation 

merged completely with an initial financial 

backer, the Thompson Products Company of 

Cleveland, to form the Thompson Ramo Wooldridge Corporation. See Robert Sheehan, 

"Thompson Ramo Wooldridge: Two Wings in 

Space," Fortune, LXVII (Feb. 1963), 95-99ff. 

'~I Inquiry into Satellite and Missile Programs, Part I, 471; Wyndam D . Miles, "The 

Polaris," in Emme, cd., History of Rocket Technology, 164- 166; also published in Technology 

and Culture , VI (Fall 1963),480-482. The 

competition deliberately established by the Defense Department between the Air Force and 

the Army over the Thor and the Jupiter, while 

perhaps necessary, proved intense, acrimonious, and apparently wasteful. The full story 

of the Thor-Jupiter rivalry in the period 1955­

1958 is yet to be told, but some valuable insight 

can be gained from Organization and M anagement of Missile Programs, 101-116. An account heavily biased in favor of the Army is 

John B. Medaris, Countdown for Decision 

(New York, 1960), 86-150. The Air Force 

side of the story is presented in Julian Hartt, 

The Mighty Thor: Missil e in R eadiness (Ne\\' 

York, 1961). 

;,' Perry, "Atlas, Thor, Titan, and Minuteman," 148. On concurrency see also Schriever, 

" USAF Ballistic Missile Program," 30- 39 ; 

and Osmond J. Ritland, "Concurrency," Air 

521 
Project that produced the atomic bomb in the 

Second World War. (See Baxter, Scientists 

Against Time, 419-447; and Richard G. 

Hewlett and Oscar E. Anderson, A History of 

the United States Atomic Energy Commission, 

Vol. I: The New World, 1939-1946 [University Park, Pa., 1962J, 9-407.) But "concurrency" as a formal research and engineering management technique is properly credited 

to the Air Force ballistic missile program of 

the fifties. 

71 Perry, "Atlas, Thor, Titan, and Minuteman," 149-150. The Strategic Air Command 

assumed operational planning responsibility 

for all intermediate and intercontinental 

missiles in 1958. 

7~ Chapman, Atlas, 88-89; Jane's All the 

World's Aircraft, 1962-1963, 394. On the 

intricacies involved in fabricating the extremely thin Atlas airframe, see Robert 

Sweeney, "Atlas Generates Fabrication Advances," Aviation Week, LXXII (Jan. 4, 

1960), 38-49; and "Manufacturing the Atlas 

at Convair," I nteravia, LXXI (1959), 

810-811. 

7sChapman, Atlas, 136-137; Jane's All the 

World's Aircraft, 1962-1963, 394; Ordway 

and Wakeford, International Missile and 

Spacecraft Guide, 1-3; NASA/MSC news release, "The Mercury-Atlas 8 Launch Vehicle," 

Oct. 1, 1962; C. L. Gandy and 1. Hanson, 

"Mercury-Atlas Launch-Vehicle Development 

and Performance," in Mercury Project Summary, Including Results of the Fourth Orbital 

Flight, May 15 and 16, 1963 (Washington, 

1963), 84-91. On Rocketdyne's _2r:oblems in 

developing the powerplant for the Atlas see 

Thomas F. Dixon, "Development Problems of 

Rocket Engines for Ballistic Missiles," I nteravia, LXXI (1959),818-821. 

710rdway and Wakeford, International 

Missile and Spacecraft Guide, 1-3; Jane's All 

the World's Aircraft, 1962-1963, 395. 

7~ Chapman, Atlas, 81-82; Gandy and 

Hanson, "Mercury-Atlas Launch-Vehicle Development and Performance," 91-92; Jane's 

All the World's Aircraft, 1962-1963,394-395; 

Ordway and Wakeford, International Missile 

and Spacecraft Guide, 2. Beginning in late 

1960 with the "E" version, the guidance system of the Atlas became all-inertial, meaning 

that all guidance components were carried 

py g 

critical problem for the medium-range (20

mile) Redstone, which did not develop th

velocities of the intermediate and interco

tinental rockets. Thus protecting the astr

naut during the reentry phase of the su

orbital (Redstone) flights in Project Mercur

while deserving attention, was not of acu

concern. 

';7 Von Karman, Aerodynamics, 189. I

view of the continually modifying nature 

astronautical terminology, the authors throug

out this work have used the terms "entry

and "reentry" interchangeably. They reali

that some aerodynamicists make a distinctio

between the two. 

78 Colonel Oleg Penkovsky, the now-famou

Russian "master spy" for the West in th

Soviet intelligence system, supposedly wrote 

late as the first part of 1962: "Only th

smaller (IRBM) missiles are in produ

tion .... Right now we have a certa

number of missiles with nuclear warhead

capable of reaching the United States or Sou

America; but these are single missiles, not 

mass production, and they are far from pe

fect." (Frank Gibney, ed., The Penkovs

Papers, trans. Peter Deriabin [Garden Cit

N.Y., 1965], 331-348.) Thus while the S

viets may have been able to fire an ICB

over its design range before the United Stat

and use it to launch relatively heavy satellite

they apparently had great troubles producin

such a military rocket in quantity, as t

United States was doing by 1962 with its Atla

Titan, and Minuteman. 

79 House Committee on Science and Astr

nautics, 86 Cong., 2 sess. (1960), House R

port No. 2092, Space, Missiles, and t

Nation, 5-7; Organization and Manageme

of Missile Programs, 108-109. 

so Inquiry into Satellite and Missile Pr

grams, testimony of ]. H. Kindelberger, Pa

1, 1280. 

81 Astronautics and Space Exploratio

testimony of Schriever, 669 . 

82 Parry, Russia's Rockets and Missiles, 14

Ordway and Wakeford, International Missi

and Spacecraft Guide, 3-4; Ritchie, "Sovi

Rocket Propulsion," 71; Alfred Z. Zaehringe

"Table of Soviet Missiles," in F. ]. Kriege

ed., A Casebook on Soviet Astronautics (2 vol

522 

pg,p

thesis, 2 vols., American University, 1960­

1961, 1,17. See also Dwight D. Eisenhower, 

The White House Years: Waging Peace, 1956­

1961 (Garden City, N.Y., 1965). A useful 

an thology of official reactions to the Soviet 

space coup is Richard L. Witkin, ed., The 

Challenge of the Sputniks (New York, 1958). 

kr; See R . Cargill Hall, "Early U.S. Satellite 

Proposals," in Emme, ed., History of Rocket 

Technology, 67-93; also published in Technology and Culture, VI (Fall 1963),410-434. 

8U Memo, Albert E. Lombard, Scientific Advisor, Directorate of Research and Development, Department of the Air Force, to 

Committee on Aerodynamics, NACA, "Upper 

Stratosphere, Ionosphere, and Space Flight," 

June 25, 1952. 

h7 Quoted in Parry, Russia's Rockets and 

Missiles, 184; and Krieger, ed., Casebook on 

Soviet Astronautics, II, 1. 

8q Parry, Russia's Rockets and Missiles, 

185-186; Astronautics and SPace Exploration, 

testimony of Andrew G. Haley, 1462-1463. 

S') Kreiger, ed., Casebook on Soviet Astronautics, II, 2-10; Parry, Russia's Rockets and 

Missiles, 186-188; Astronautics and Space Exploration, testimony of Haley, 1464. 

00 Hagen, "Viking and Vanguard," 137; 

John Lear, "The Moon That Refused to Be 

Eclipsed," Saturday Review, XLIII (March 5, 

1963), 45-48; Kurt R . Stehling, Project Vanguard (Garden City, N.Y., 1961), 141-181. 

I)l The controversial history of the decision 

to build a new satellite rocket based on the 

Viking and the Aerobee, as proposed by the 

Naval Research Laboratory, rather than to 

adapt the Redstone for the Geophysical Year 

satellite program, as proposed by the Office of 

Naval Research and the Army in Project Orbiter, is beyond the scope of this work. The 

Vanguard-Orbiter imbroglio is covered in von 

Braun, "Redstone, Jupiter, and Juno," 111­

113; Carsbie C. Adams, Space Flight (New 

York, 1958), 112-113; E. Nelson Hayes, "The 

Smithsonian's Satellite Tracking Program: Its 

History and Organization," Report of the 

Smithsonian Institution for 1961 (Washington, 

1962),275-322; Astronautics and Space Exploration, testimony of John T. Hayward, 293­

294; Inquiry into Satellite and Missile Programs, testimony of James M. Gavin and J. B. 

pf 

(Philadelphia, 1962), 46-51; and R. Cargill 

Hall, "Origins and Development of the Vanguard and Explorer Satellite Programs," Air 

Power Historian, XI (Oct. 1964). 

!," After losing out in the satellite rocket 

competition, the Army engineers at Redstone 

Arsenal had stubbornly sought authorization 

to reactivate their satellite project. Rebuffed 

in the Defense Department, the Army group 

shrewdly renamed a modified Redstone, which 

they were preparing for tests of the Jupiter 

reentry nose cone, the Jupiter-C, in order to 

continue receiving funds for the satellite project. See von Braun, "Redstone, Jupiter, and 

Juno," 113-114; Inquiry into Satellite and 

Missile Programs, testimony of J. B. Medaris, 

Part 2, 1700-1701; Medaris, Countdown for 

Decision; James M . Gavin, War and Peace in 

the SPace Age (New York, 1958) ; Astronautics 

and Space Exploration, testimony of Gavin, 

183-184; Akens, Historical Origins of the Marshall SPace Flight Center, 40-44; Organization 

and Management of Missile Programs, 130. 

9:: Akens, Historical Origins of the Marshall 

SPace Flight Center, 44-50; von Braun, "Redstone, Jupiter, and Juno," 114; Bullard, "History of the Redstone," 142-146; Lear, "Moon 

That Refused to Be Eclipsed," 47; Hagen, 

"Viking and Vanguard," 448-451; Stehling, 

Project Vanguard, 182-219; House Committee 

on Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 1 sess. 

(1959), U.S. Aeronautics and SPace Activities, 

Jan. 1 to Dec. 31, 1958: Message from the 

President of the United States, 3-4. On 

March 5, 1958, an attempt to launch Explorer II failed when th Jupiter-C fourth stage 

did not ignite. 

01 These four shots were made wi th the 

Atlas A, a version with a dummy sustainer 

engine and nose cone, designed solely for test 

purposes. The first Atlas A went out of control and was destroyed after less than a minute 

of flight on June 11, 1957, and a second attempt, on Sept. 25, ended in the same fashion. 

Success came on Dec. 17, 1957, when an Atlas 

A impacted on its target about 500 miles 

downrange from Cape Canaveral. On April 5, 

1958, the test rocket flew successfully 600 

miles downrange from the Cape. Chapman, 

Atlas, 118-133; Perry, "Atlas, Thor, Titan, 

and Minuteman," 151; George Alexander, 

"Atlas Accuracy Improves as Test Program is 

523 
ond World War, see Wilfred J. Mayo-Wells, 

"The Origins of Space Telemetry," in Eugene 

M. Emme, ed. , The History of Rocket Technology: Essays on Research, Development, and 

Utility (Detroit, 1964), 253-268 ; also published in Technolog)' and Culture, IV (Fall 

1963), 499-514. . . 

~ For the German work in aeromediCIne 

during the 1930s and early 1940s, see U.S. Air 

Force German A v iation Medicine, World War 

II (2'vols., Washington, 1950). 

J Harry G . Armstrong, Principles and. Practices of A viation Medicine (3 ed., Ba~tlmore, 

1952) . Armstrong later became a major general. 

~ Harry G. Armstrong, Heinz Haber, and 

Hubertus Strughold, "Aero Medical Problems 

of Space Travel, Panel Meeting, School of A,:iation Medicine," Journal of Aviation Mediczne, 

XIX (Dec. 1949), 383-417; Hubertus Strughold, intervie\\', San Antonio, April 24, 1964. 

People interested in the physiology and psychology of extra-atmospheric f1i?ht ha~e de­

\"ised a number of terms to deSCribe their field 

of investigation- biomedicine, space biology, 

astrobiology, bioastronautics, aerospace medicine. The most suitable single term seems to be 

that used by Strughold, "space medicine." It 

is used throughout this \\'ork except where more 

precise terminology, such as "biodynamics," appears appropriate . 

:; Shirley Thomas, Men of Space (6 vols., 

Philadelphia, 1960-1963) , IV, 234- 250; 

USAF Air Training Command, History of the 

United States A ir Force, Pamphlet 190-1, Randolph Air Force Base, Tex., 1961, 19; Strughold inten·iew. Siegfried J. Gerathewohl, a 

psychologist, and Hans-Georg Clamann, a ph'ysiologist, remained \\·ith the School of AViatIOn 

Medicine but did not become members of the 

Department of Space Medicin€'. 

G Clayton S. White and Otis O . Benson, eds., 

Physics and Medicine of the Upper Atmosphere : A Study of the Aeropause (Albuquerque , 1952). 

7 Hubertus Strughold, "Basic Environmental 

Problems Relating Man and the Highest Regions of the Atmosphere as Seen by the Biologist," ibid., 32. On the concept of space 

equivalence see also Strughold, Heinz Haber, 

Konrad Buettner, and FrTtz Haber, "Where 

Does Space Begin? Functional Concept of the 

524 

hold The Medical Problems of Space Fhgh

Inte:national Record of Medicine, CLXVI

(1955), 570-575; and Strughold, "A Simp

Classification of the Present and Future Stag

of Manned Flight," Journal of Aviation Med

cine XXVII (Aug., 1956),328-331. 

H' "Thirty-Five Years of Winged Rock

Flight" Thiokol Magazine, II (1963), 1

Hube:tus Strughold, "Introduction," to Mort

Alperin, M . Stern, and H. Wooster, eds:, Vis

in Astronautics: First Annual Astronautzcs Sy

posium (London, 1958), 283. 

9 See Burt Rowen, "Human Factors Supp

of the X-15 Program," in Kenneth F. Gan

ed ., Man in SPace: The United States A

Force Program for Developing the Spacecr

Crews (New York, 1959),216-221; Stanley 

White, "Progress in Space Medicine," ~a~e

Second World and Fourth European AViatI

and Space Medicine Congress, Rome, Oct. 2

31 1959· and Richard E. Day, "Training A

pe~ts of :he X-15 Program," in The Traini

of Astronauts (Washington, 1961), 5-14. 

10 Otto Gauer and Heinz Haber, "M

under Gravity-Free Conditions," in Germ

Aviation Medicine, World War II, I, 641-64

J1 David Bushnell, "History of Research 

Subgravity and Zero-G at the Air Force M

sile Development Center, 1948-1958," A

Force Missile Development Center, 1959, 3-

David G. Simons, "Use of V-2 Rocket to Co

vey Primate to Upper Atmosphere," Air For

Tech. Report 5821, Air Materiel Comman

Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, Ohio, M

1959 ' James P. Henry et aI., "Animal Stud

of th~ Subgravity State During Rocket Fligh

Journal of A viation Medicin.e, XX~II (<?

1952),421-423; David G. Simons, InterVie

San Antonio, April 24, 1964. A bree~y pop

lar account of the Holloman shots With V-

and Aerobees is Lloyd MalIan, Men, Rocke

and SPace Rats (Rev. ed., New York, 196

84-116. 

1~ Andrei G . Kousnetzov, "Some Results 

Biological Experiments in Rockets and Sputn

II," Journal of Aviation Medicine, XX

(Nov. 1958), 781-784; S. M . Polovskov a

B. A. Mirtov, "Study of the Upper Atmosphe

by Means of Rockets at the U .S.S.R. Academ

of Sciences," and A. V. Pokrovskii, "Study 

the Vital Activity of Animals during Rock

Flights in the Upper Atmosphere," in F. 
], ),

:3 Harald]. von Beckh, "Human Reactions 

during Flight to Acceleration Preceded by or 

Followed by Weightlessness," Aerospace Medicine,XXX (June 1959),391 . 

)1 Fritz Haber and Heinz Haber, "Possible 

Methods of Producing the Gravity-Free State 

for Medical Research," Journal of Aviation 

Medicine, XXI (Oct. 1950), 395-400. 

1" Allen C. Fisher, "Aviation Medicine on 

the Threshold of Space," National Geographic, 

CVI (Aug. 1955), 257; Siegfried]. Gerathewohl, "Weightlessness," in Gantz, ed., Man 

in Space, 115. 

10 Ibid. 

17 Bushnell, "Research in Subgravity and 

Zero-G at the Air Force Missile Development 

Center," 12-17; James H.Hanrahan and 

David Bushnell, Space Biology: The Human 

Factors in Space Flight (New York, 1960), 

137, 139-140; Green Peyton and Jean Evans, 

"History, Aerospace Medical Division, Air 

Force Systems Command : Reorganization, 1 

November 1961-30 June 1962," Hist. Publication 62-180, Brooks Air Force Base, Tex., 1962, 

93-97. 

18 Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology, 

139-140; "USAF School Simulates Living in 

Space," Aviation Week, LXVIII (Jan. 27, 

1958), 49-51; Siegfried J. Gerathewohl, Oskar L. Ritter, and Herbert D . Stallings, "Producing the Weightless State in Jet Aircraft," 

Report 57-143, Air Force School of Aviation 

Medicine, Aug. 1957 . 

]0 Gerathewohl, Principles of Bioastronautics, 211-234 ; Siegfried J. Gerathewohl and 

Herbert D. Stallings, "Experiments during 

Weightlessness: A Study of the Oculo-Agravic 

Illusion," Journal of Aviation Medicine , 

XXIX (July 1958),504-515; Julian E. Ward, 

Willard R. Hawkins, and Herbert D. Stallings, 

"Physiologic Response to Subgravity I: Mechanics of Nourishment and Deglutition of 

Solids and Liquids," Journal of Aviation M edicine, XXX (March 1959), 151-154, and 

"Physiologic Response to Subgravity II: Initiation of Mictruition," Aerospace Medicine , 

XXX (Aug. 1959),572-575. 

20 "They Float through the Air," Astronautics, IV (Feb. 1959), 42; Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology, 147-148; William Leavitt, 

"The Weird World of Weightlessness," Air 

Force, XLII (April 1959), 113. 

p

2~ David G. Simons, "Review of Biological 

Effects of Subgravity and Weightlessness," 

Jet Propulsion, XXV (May 1955), 209-211; 

Fisher, "Aviation Medicine on the Threshold 

of Space," 257 . 

2.'] Gerathewohl, "Weightlessness," 132. 

See also Oskar L. Ritter and Siegfried ]. 

Gerathewohl, "The Concepts of Weight and 

Stress in Human Flight," paper no. 58-154, 

Air Force School of Aviation Medicine, June 

26, 1958. 

2~ Von Beckh, "Human Reactions during 

Flight to Acceleration Preceded by or Followed 

by Weightlessness," 391-406. After the 

termination of zero-g flights at Holloman and 

Randolph, weightless experiments in aircraft 

continued at Wright-Patterson and at the Air 

Force Flight Test Center, Edwards Air Force 

Base, Calif. 

25 See Mae M. Link and Hubert A. Coleman, Medical Support of the Army Air Forces 

in World War II (Washington, 1955). 

26 Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology, 

86-88; David Bushnell, "Major Achievements 

in Biodynamics: Escape Physiology at the Air 

Force Missile Development Center, 1953­

1958," Air Force Missile Development Center, 

1959, 10-13; Martin and Grace Caidin, 

Aviation and Space Medicine (New York, 

1962), 199-203; Mallan, Men , Rockets, and 

Space Rats, 99-116. Stapp had taken his 

first rocket sled ride in 1947 at Edwards Air 

Force Base, Calif. He became Chief of the 

Aeromedical Field Laboratory in 1953 and 

made several more rides before his record run 

on Dec. 10, 1954. See John P. Stapp, 

"Tolerance to Abrupt Deceleration," in Collected Papers on A viation Medicine, Presented 

at Aeromedical Panel Meetings of the Advisory 

Group for Aeronautical Research and Development, North American Treaty Organization 

(London, 1955), 122-169. 

27 Eli L. Beeding, Jr., and John D. Mosely, 

"Human Deceleration Tests," Air Force 

Missile Development Center, Jan. 1960 ; Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology, 93-94. 

The "daisy track" was named for a popular 

make of air rifle, because it was originally designed as a compressed-air catapult system. 

From 1955 to 1959 it used a cartridge system. 

28 John P. Stapp, "Biodynamics of Space 

Flight," in Gantz, ed., Man in Space, 68. 

525 
31 Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology, 

72. 

3~ Ibid. , 75-76. The largest centrifuge in 

operation in the United States during the 

1950s was the Navy's mechanical arm at 

Johnsonville, with a radius of 50 feet and a capability of 40 g. The Johnsville facility had 

a device allowing the gondola to be gimbaled 

to simulate buffetings and cross-currents. The 

Wright Air Development Center centrifuge, on 

the other hand, had a radius of 20 feet and 

a capability of 20 g. Instead of a gondola 

it featured an open platform, which could be 

whirled in one plane only. 

33 Ibid., 77 ; John P. Stapp, "Acceleration: 

How Great a Problem?" Astronautics, IV 

(Feb. 1959),38-39,98-100. 

3 1 Ibid., 77, 105-109; memo for files, 

Gerard J. Pesman, Human Factors Br., Space 

Task Group, "Present Status-Major Systems, Pilot Support and Restraint" [about 

Feb. 1959]; Harald J. von Beckh, "Multidirectional G-Protection in Space Vehicles," 

Journal of the Brhish Interplanetary Society, 

XVI (Sept.-Oct. 1958), 531. 

35 Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology, 

96-98. 

3ft Carl C. Clark an9, James D. Hardy, 

"Preparing Man for Space Flight," Astronautics, IV (Feb. 1959), 18-21 , 88; Clark 

and R. Flanagan Gray, "A Discussion of Restraint and Protection of the Human Experiencing the Smooth and Oscillating Accelerations of Proposed Space Vehicles," U .S. 

Naval Air Development Center, Dec. 29, 1959, 

26-46. During 1957-1958 scientists at the 

Wright Air Development Center also carried 

out water-immersion studies, using a coffinlike container. Peak accelerations on the 

limited Wright centrifuge were only about 

16 g, but the durations of the acceleration 

patterns were longer. 

J7 John P. Stapp, interview, San Antonio, 

April 24, 1964. 

38 Maxime A. Faget, interview, Houston, 

Jan. 3, 1964, and Aug. 24, 1964; Gerard J. Pesman, interview, Houston, March 17, 1964; 

James M. Grimwood, Project Mercury: A 

Chronology, NASA SP-4001 (Washington, 

1963), 20. For USAF concept of rotating 

couch, see p. 96. 

526 

40 Clark and Gray, A Discussion of R

straint and Protection," 26; Pesman mem

Faget and his men became even happier 

December 1958, during the early days of Pr

ect Mercury, when a second Langley cou

its back angle raised 8 degrees, supported 

Carter C. Collins on the Navy centrifuge d

ing a peak of 25 g for approximately 10 secon

4L Stanley R. Mohler, "Wiley Post's Ae

space Achievements," Airpower Historian, 

(July 1964), 66-70; Frederick R. Ritzing

Jr., and Ellis G. Aboud, "Pressure Suit

Their Evolution and Development," Air U

versity Review, XVI (Jan.-Feb. 1965),23-3

4~ Caidin and Caidin, Aviation and Spa

Medicine, 49-54; Eugene M. Emme, Aerona

tics and Astronautics: An American Chronolo

of Science and Technology in the Explorati

of Space, 1915-1960 (Washington, 1961),2

29, 30, 33, 160, 162; Auguste Piccard, Betwe

Earth and Sky, trans. Claude Apcher (Londo

1950), and Earth, Sky, and Sea, trans. Chr

tina Stead (New York, 1956). For a use

survey of research in the physiology of hig

altitude living, see From the Mountains to t

Moon: Some Historical Aspects of Survival 

Great Heights (undated microfilm, produc

by Biomedical Laboratory, University of Ca

fornia at Los Angeles, NASA Historical A

chives, Washington) . 

43 Hubertus Strughold, "The U.S. Air For

Experimental Sealed Cabin," Journal of A v

tion Medicine , XXVII (Feb . 1956), 50; Ha

rahan and Bushnell, Space Biology, 24-26. 

H Strughold, "Air Force Experimen

Sealed Cabin," 50-51; Hans-Georg Claman

interview, San Antonio, April 23, 1964. 

,:; Strughold interview. 

40 "USAF School Simulates Living 

Space," 49-55. 

47 Emme, Aeronautics and Astronautics, 8

95 ; Strughold interview; George R. Steinkam

and Willard R. Hawkins, "Medical Experime

tation in a Sealed Cabin Simulator," in Otis 

Benson and Hubertus Strughold, eds. , Phys

and Medicine of the Atmosphere and Spa

(New York, 1960), 370-376. 

l-'l George T . Hauty, "Human Performan

in Space," in Gantz, ed., Man in Space, 84-10

Besides the aircraft weightless and sealed-cab

programs, the School of Aviation Medici
Planet: A Physiological Study of the Possibility 

of Life on Mars (Albuquerque, 1953) . 

Throughou t the 1950s and to the present the 

Department of Space Medicine at the school 

has done research on the atmospheric composition of other planets, photosynthesis as a 

means of air supply, and other subjects. 

'9 Charles A. Berry, "The Environment of 

Space in Human Flight," Aeronautical Engineering Review, XVII (March 1958), 38; 

George E. Ruff, "Isolation," Astronautics, IV 

(Feb. 1959),22-23,110-111. After 1951 psychologists in several universities in the United 

States and Canada conducted sensory deprivation studies, laboratory experiments in which a 

subject was immersed in water in a blackened 

room and thus was deprived of his visual, 

auditory, and kinesthetic senses. The experiments indicated "a general loosening of the 

subject's ability to perceive reality and the 

weakening of the stable norms against which 

perception is evaluated." Later studies at the 

Navy Air Crew Equipment Laboratory in 

Philadelphia, the Air Force School of Medicine, 

and the Wright Air Development Center 

demonstrated, however, that stable, welltrained persons "can endure severe restrictions 

of their natural habitat for relatively long periods of time without significant degradation." 

Gerathewohl, Principles of Bioastronautics, 308, 

311. See also D. Ewen Cameron et aL, "Sensory Deprivation: Effects upon the Functioning Human in Space Systems," in Bernard E. 

Flaherty, ed., Psychophysiological Aspects of 

Space Flight (New York, 1961),225-237. 

:;0 Among astronomers, astrophysicists, and 

space flight experts there is considerable variation in the uses and definitions of the terms 

"meteoroid," "meteorite," and "meteor." 

Throughout this study the authors have employed what is apparently standard NASA terminology : a meteoroid is a solid object larger 

that a molecule and smaller than an asteroid, 

moving in interplanetary space; a meteorite is 

such an object that reaches Earth's surface 

without completely vaporizing in the atmosphere ; and a meteor is the light phenomenon 

resulting from a meteoroid's entrance into the 

atmosphere. 

61 Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology, 

Meteorites: The Conquest of Interplanetary 

Space," in White and Benson, eds., Physics and 

Medicine of the Upper Atmosphere, 137-170. 

On the meteoroid phenomenon see also Whipple, "Meteorite Material in Space," in Benson 

and Strughold, eds., Physics and Medicine of 

the Atmosphere and Space . 

52 Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology, 

31. 

:;.1 A. B. Thompson, "Physiological and 

Psychological Considerations for Manned 

Space Flight," Report E9R-12349, Rev., 

Chance Vought Aircraft, Inc., Dallas, July 7, 

1959,115. 

51 On cosmic radiation see, for example, 

James A. Van Allen, "The Nature and Intensity of the Cosmic Radiation," in White and 

Benson, eds., Physics and Medicine of the 

Upper Atmosphere, 239-266; Joseph A. Connor, "Space Radiation Protection," NASAMSC fact sheet No. 106; Hermann J. Schaeffer, "Appraisal of Cosmic-Ray Hazards in 

Extra-Atmospheric Flight," in Alperin, Stern, 

and Wooster, eds., Vistas in Astronautics, 291­

298; Gerathewohl, Principles of Bioastronautics, 133-138; and C . Frederick Hansen, "The 

Characteristics of the Upper Atmosphere Pertaining to Hypervelocity Flight," Jet Propulsion, XXVII (Nov. 1957), 1155-1156. 

:;:; Emme, Aeronautics and Astronautics, 

77,82. 

:;G On Unidentified Flying Objects see several works by Donald E. Keyhoe, especially 

Flying Saucers in Outer Space (New York, 

1953) ; and Donald H. Menzel, Flying Saucers 

(Cambridge, Mass., 1953). 

r.7 Malcolm D . Ross, "A Consideration of 

the U.S. Navy Strato-Lab Balloon Program 

and Its Contributions to Manned Space 

Flight," in Proceedings of the Second National 

Conference on the Peaceful Uses of Space, 

Seattle, Washington , May 8-10, 1962, NASA 

SP-8 (Washington, 1962),261. 

"s Gerathewohl, Principles of Bioastronautics, 475-476. 

:;0 David G. Simons, "The 1954 Aeromedical Field Laboratory Balloon Flights: Physiological and Radiobiological Aspects," Journal 

of Aviation Medicine, XXVII (Apr. 1956), 

100-110: Simons interview; Bushnell, "Major 

527 
pgy 

velopment Center," 27-34. 

61 David G. Simons, "Manhigh II," Technical Report 59-28, Air Force Missile Development Center, Holloman Air Force Base, 

N. Mex. , June 1959; Simons, "Psychophysiological Aspects of Manhigh," 33, 62 ; 

Simons, "Observations in High-Altitude, 

Sealed-Cabin Balloon Flight," in Gantz, ed., 

Man in Space, 133-160; Simons et aL, "Personal Experiences in Space Equivalent Flight," 

in Flaherty, ed., Psychophysiological Aspects 

of Space Flight, 39-41; Bushnell, "Major 

Achievements in Space Biology at the Air Force 

Missile Development Center," 34-41; Simons, 

"Space Medicine- the Human Body in Space," 

monograph No.6, Journal of the Franklin 

I nstitute Series) Dec. 1958, 169-178; Simons 

interview. For a popularly written personal 

account of the M anhigh II flight see David G. 

Simons and Don Schanche, Man High (Garden City, N.Y., 1960). 

6J "Manhigh III: USAF Manned Balloon 

Flight into the Stratosphere," Tech. Report 

60-16, April 1961; Simons, "Psychophysiological Aspects of Manhigh," 63; Simons et aL, 

"Personal Experiences in Space Equivalent 

Flight," 41-43. 

63 Simons, "Observations in High-Altitude, 

Sealed-Cabin Balloon Flight," 146. See also 

Simons, "Manhigh Balloon Flights in Perspective," in Proceedings of the Second National 

Conference on the Peaceful Uses of Space) 

243-248. Simons' record for a manned ascent 

stood until May 4, 1961, when Cdr. Malcolm 

Ross and Lt. Cdr. Victor G. Prather reached 

113,740 feet in an Office of Naval Research 

Strato-Lab High V balloon, launched from 

the carrier Antietam. Prather was killed 

during helicopter recovery when he stood up 

in the "horse collar" sling and fell into the 

ocean. 

6t Simons, "Manhigh II," 272-294; Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology) 171-172; 

Simons interview. 

Simons, "Observations in High-Altitude, 

Sealed-Cabin Balloon Flight," 137; Simons, 

interview. On Air Force solar flare observatories, see David Bushnell, "The Sacramento 

Peak Observatory, 1947-1962," Air Force 

Office of Aerospace Research, 1962. 

g

Medicine of the Atmosphere and Space) 2-1

House Committee on Science and Astronauti

86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), U.S. Aeronautics a

Space Activities, Jan. 1 to Dec. 31) 195

Message from the President of the Uni

States) 3, 4. 

87 Simons, "Space Medicine-the Hum

Body in Space," 162. 

08 Connor, "Space Radiation Protectio

Hanrahan and Bushnell, Space Biology) 17

180, 187-188. 

09 F. L. Van der Wal and W. D. You

"Project MIA (Mouse-In-Able), Experime

on Physiological Response to Space Fligh

Jet Propulsion) XXXI (Oct. 1959), 716-72

Ashton Graybiel, et aL, "An Account of E

periments in Which Two Monkeys W

Recovered Unharmed after Ballistic Spa

Flight," Aerospace Medicine) XXX (D

1959),871-931; House Committee on Scien

and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 1 sess. (195

Jupiter Missile Shot-Biomedical Experimen

Hearings; David S. Akens, Historical Orig

of the George C. Marshall SPace Flig

Center (Huntsville, Ala., 1960), 52, 54-5

Gerathewohl, Principles of Bioastronauti

98-108; Mae M. Link, Space Medicine 

Project Mercury) NASA SP-4003 (Washin

ton, 1965), 27-28. 

Chapter III 

1 See Derek]. de Solla Price, Little Scien

Big Science (New York, 1963); and A. Hun

Dupree, Science in the Federal Governmen

A History of Policies and Activities to 19

(Cambridge, Mass., 1957), 1-2,369-391. 

2 Quoted in Frank J. Malina, "Origins a

First Decade of the Jet Propulsion Laboratory

in Eugene M. Emme, ed., The History 

Rocket Technology: Essays on Research) D

velopment, and Utility (Detroit, 1964), 52. 

3 Thirty-Fourth Annual Report of the N

tional Advisory Committee for Aeronautic

1948 (Washington, 1951),37. 

4 Hugh L. Dryden, "NACA: What I

Doing and Where It's Going," Missiles a

Rockets) I (Oct. 1956),44-46; Thirty-Fif

Annual Report of the NACA-1949 (Was

ington, 1951), 19; Thirty-Sixth Annual Repo

528 


65 
g

Annual Report of the NACA-19S3 (Washington, 1955), 30-3 1; Arthur S. Levine, "U.S. 

Aeronautical Research Policy, 1915-1958: A 

Study of the Major Policy Decisions of the 

National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics," unpublished Ph . D. dissertation, Columbia University, 1963, 111-112. NACA's contribution to the International Geophysical 

Year's Project Vanguard was limited to the 

calculation of optimum satellite trajectories. 

G Hugh L. Dryden, "Fact Finding for Tomorrow's Planes," National Geographic, CIV 

(Dec . 1953) , 772 . Dryden, a distinguished 

physicist with the National Bureau of Standards and a member of NACA's Committee on 

Aerodynamics since the 1930s, became the 

Director of N ACA in 1949. Despite the tremendous acceleration of the space program in 

the 1960s, Dryden's words \\'ere prophetic for 

himself if not for his generation. He died in 

December 1965, two months before the first 

major launch in the Apollo program. 

o Minutes, NACA Committee on Aerodynamics, Wallops Island, Va. , June 24, 1952, 

19-21; memo, M . B. Ames, Jr., Acting Asst. 

Dir. for Research, to Langley Aeronautical 

Laboratory, "Research on Space Flight and 

Associated Problems," July 10, 1952; memo, 

John W. Crowley, Assoc. Dir. for Research, to 

Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, "Research on 

Space Flight and Associated Problems," Aug. 

26, 1952; memo, Crowley to Langley Aeronautical Laboratory, "Research on Space 

Flight and Associated Problems," Aug. 31 , 

1952; minutes, NACA Executive Committee, 

Moffett Field, Calif. , July 14, 1952, 15, NASA 

Historical Archives, Washington . 

~ Memo, Henry J. E. Reid, Dir. , Langley 

Aeronautical Laboratory, to NACA, "Research 

on Space Flight and Associated Problems," 

Aug. 5, 1952 ; NACA Research Authorization 

A73L95, Sept. 8, 1952 . 

8 Memo, Reid to NACA, " Meeting of Committee on Aerod ynamics at Wallops Island on 

June 24, 1952," May 26, 1952. 

o Memo, Smith J. DeFrance, Dir. , Ames 

Aeronautical Laboratory, to NACA, "Report 

on Research of Interest to Committee on Aerodynamics," May 29, 1952. 

10 "NACA Views Concerning a New Research Airplane," NACA, Washington, Aug. 

1954. On the development of nickel for use 

Kleinknecht, "The Rocket Research Airplanes," in Emme, ed., History of Rocket 

Technology, 205- 208; Editors, Air University 

Quarterly Review, "The Spiral Toward Space," 

in Kenneth F. Gantz, ed. , Man in Space: The 

United States Air Force Program for Developing the Spacecraft Crews (New York, 1959) , 

208-210; Myron E. Gubitz, Rocketship X-IS 

(New York, 1960) ; Jules Bergman, Ninety Seconds to Space: The Story of X-IS (New York, 

1960) . The X- 2 was the last rocket-powered 

research airplane that flew before the X- 15 

\vent into operation, although the fifties also 

saw flights of jet-propelled research craft like 

the X-3, nicknamed the "Flying Stiletto," the 

X-4, and the variable-sweep X-5, as well as 

the rocket-powered X-1B, used by NACA for 

reaction-control and heating studies. X-IS: 

Research at the Edge of Space, NASA EP- 9 

(Washington, 1964), 9. 

~ Stilwell, X -IS Research Results, 17- 31 ; 

Editors, Air Uni versity Quarterly Review, 

"Spiral Toward Space," 210-212; X-IS, 11­

15; Charles V . Eppley, The Rocket Research 

Aircraft Program, 1946-1962 (Edwards Air 

Force Base, Calif., 1962), 25-30; Gubitz, 

Rocketship X-IS, 61-74; John V. Becker, "The 

X-15 Project: Part I: Origins and Research 

Background," Astronautics and Aeronautics, II 

(Feb. 1964),52-61. 

~ Memo, DeFrance to N ACA, "Research 

on Space Flight and Associated Problems," 

Sept. 18, 1952. 

H Mark Morton, "Progress in Reentry-Recovery Vehicle Development," pamphlet, Missile and Space Vehicle Dept., General Electric 

Co., Philadelphia, Jan. 2, 1961. 

~ Jacques Cattell, ed., American Men of 

Science: A Biographical Directory: The Physical and Biological Sciences (10 ed., Tempe, 

Ariz., 1960), 42 ; H. Julian Allen, biography 

sheet, NASAl Ames Research Center, Aug. 

1963. Besides supporting the aeronautical 

laboratory at the California Institute of Technology, Guggenheim philanthropies also made 

possible the establishment of research institutions for aeronautics at Stanford and elsewhere. 

W Ibid., Alvin Seiff, "A Free-Flight Wind 

Tunnel for Aerodynamic Testing at Hypersonic 

Speeds," NACA Tech. Report 1222, Forty-First 

Annual Report of the NACA-19SS (Wash529 
Ernst Mach, who also devised the unit of mea

surement representing the ratio of the speed of 

a body to the speed of sound in the surrounding 

air, i.e., mach 1. The schlieren technique involves training a beam of light perpendicular to 

the direction of the airflow to be investigated. 

A camera is placed behind the light. The 

camera then photographs a stationary or moving object in the light beam and the surrounding air-streaks, which have varying densities 

and refractive indices resulting from aerodynamic pressures. See Theodore von Kannan, 

Aerodynamics: Selected Topics in the Light of 

Their Historical Development (Ithaca, N.Y., 

1954), 106-108; and Dr. W. Holder and R. S. 

North, "Optical Methods of Examining the 

Flow in High-Speed Wind Tunnels," Part I: 

"The Schlieren Method," North Atlantic 

Treaty Organization Advisory Group for Aeronautical Research and Development, Nov. 

1956. 

17 H. Julian Allen, interview, Moffett Field, 

Calif., April 22, 1964. 

18 Ibid.; Science News Letter, LXXII (Dec. 

21, 1957),389. 

19 Ibid.; Allen C. Fisher, Jr., "Exploring 

Tomorrow with the Space Agency," National 

Geographic, CXVII (July 1960),85; FortyThird Annual Report of the NACA-1957 

(Washington, 1957),5. 

!IO H . Julian Allen and Alfred J. Eggers, Jr., 

"A Study of the Motion and Aerodynamic 

Heating of Ballistic Missiles Entering the 

Earth's Atmosphere at High Supersonic 

Speeds," NACA Tech. Report 1381, FortyFourth Annual Report of the NACA-1958 

(Washington, 1959), 1125-1140. Allen and 

Eggers pointed out that while the blunt shape 

was optimum for relatively lightweight reentry 

bodies, as warheads became heavier the total 

heat absorbed and the rate of heating would 

probably dictate longer, more slender shapes. 

Some blunting at the tip of the body, however, 

would continue to be desirable. This is precisely the evolution that has occurred over the 

years as rocket thrust has increased and warheads have grown heavier. See Herman 

H. Kurzweg, "Basic Research," in Proceedings 

of the Second NASA-Industry Program Plans 

Conference, NASA SP-29 (Washington, 1963), 

127-130. 

21 Letters, H. H. Nininger to Ames Aero530 

Juy , 957, seected papes o. 

Nininger 1935-1957, NASA Hist. Archives

Regarding Nininger's claims, Allen has com

mented: "It is rather ironical that Nininger

'proof' that blunt bodies are optimum wa

based on observations of meteorites. A

meteorites ... enter the atmosphere in 

speed range for which one can demonstrat

that a body which is pointed at the stagnatio

point is the optimum and not the blunte

body as proposed by Dr. Nininger." Letter

Allen to C.C.A., Aug. 17, 1964. 

23 Forty-Fourth Annual Report, 30. Doo

little, leader of the famous carrier-based rai

of B-25s on Tokyo, succeeded Hunsaker a

chairman of the NACA Main Committee i

1956. 

23 Richard V. Rhode, "Structures an

Materials Aspect of Manned Flight Systems

Past and Present," NASA/MSC fact shee

July 12, 1962. 

:24 See, for example, David H. Crawford an

William D . McCauley, "Investigation of th

Laminar Aerodynamic Heat-Transfer Char

acteristics of the Hemisphere-Cylinder in th

Langley II-Inch Hypersonic Tunnel at a Mac

Number of 6.8," NACA Tech. Report 1323

Forty-Third Annual Report, 1001-1021; an

Jackson R. Stalder, "A Survey of Heat Trans

fer Problems Encountered by Hypersonic Air

craft," Jet Propulsion, XXVII (Nov. 1957

1178-1184. Throughout the mid- and lat

fifties other laboratories also carried on re

search in reentry body configurations, especiall

the Jet Propulsion Laboratory at the Californi

Institute of Technology, which did contrac

research for the Army. See Lester Lee

"Laminar Heat Transfer over Blunt-Nose

Bodies at Hypersonic Flight Speeds," Je

Propulsion, XXVI (April 1956), 259-269

and "Recent Developments in Hypersoni

Flow," Jet Propulsion, XXVII (Nov. 1957

1162-1178. 

!!5 Rhode, "Structures and Materials A

pects of Manned Flight Systems." 

26 Wernher von Braun, "The Redstone

Jupiter, and Juno," in Emme, ed., History o

Rocket Technology, 110-111; John W. Bullard

"History of the Redstone Missile System,

Hist. Div., Army Missile Command, Oct. 1965

141-142; Frederick I. Ordway III an

Ronald C. Wakeford, International Missile an
34 

f g, 

27 General Electric Co., Missile and Space 

Vehicle Dept., Reentry Vehicles-Man Made 

Meteors (Philadelphia, undated). 

zs Von Braun, "Redstone, jupiter, and 

juno," 111; Reentry Studies, 2 vols., Vitro 

Corp. report No. 2331-25, Nov. 25, 1958. 

On the significance of the differing approaches 

to the reentry problem of the Air Force and 

the Army see Organization and Management 

of Missile Programs, 108-109. See also W. R. 

Lucas and J. E. Kingsbury, "The ABMA Reinforced Plastics Ablation Program," reprint 

from Modern Plastics (Oct. 1960). 

29 Message, John A. Powers, Public Affairs 

Officer, Space Task Group, to Eugene M. 

Emme, NASA Historian, July 5, 1960; 

Forty-Third Annual Report, 7;' Leonard 

Roberts, "A Theoretical Study of Nose Ablation," and Aleck C. Bond, Bernard Rashis, and 

L. Ross Levin, "Experimental Nose Ablation," 

in "NACA Conference on High-Speed Aerodynamics, Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, 

Moffett Field, Calif., March 18, 19, and 20, 

1958, A Compilation of the Papers Presented," 

253-284. 

30 Paul E. Purser, log of administrative 

activities related to space and missile research, 

Jan. 4, 1956, to April 25, 1958. See also 

John R. Dawson, "Hydro-dynamic Characteristics of Missiles Launched Under Water," in 

"NACA Conference on High-Speed Aerodynamics," 177-184. 

~l Maxime A. Faget, interview, Houston, 

Jan. 9, 1964; Joseph A. Shortal, interview, 

Langley Field, Va., Jan. 7, 1964. 

:)~ Seiff and Canning interviews. 

~: Dr. Alfred J. Eggers, Jr., biography 

sheet, NASAlAmes Research Center, March 

1963. 

Alfred J. Eggers, Jr., "A Method for 

Simulating the Atmospheric Entry of LongRange Ballistic Missiles," NACA Tech. Report 

1378, Forty-Fourth Annual Report, 1009­

1015; Forty-Third Annual Report, 5. 

35 Eggers, "Method for Simulating the 

Atmospheric Entry of Long-Range Missiles," 

1014; Forty-Third Annual Report, 6-7; Clarence V. Syvertson, interview, Moffett Field, 

Calif., April 22, 1964; letter, Eggers to 

C.C.A., June 24, 1964. For the kind of research done in the simulator, see Stanford E. 

Neice, "Preliminary Experimental Study of 

g p 

in the theoretical work on an antipodal bomber 

done by Eugen Sanger and Irene Bredt for the 

Luftwaffe in World War II. See Eugen 

Sanger, Rocket Flight Engineering, NASA TT 

F-223 (Washington, 1965). 

37 Alfred J. Eggers, jr., H. Julian Allen, and 

Stanford E. Neice, "A Comparative Analysis 

of the Performance of Long-Range Hypervelocity Vehicles," NACA Tech. Report 1382, 

Forty-Fourth Annual Report, 1141-1160. A 

modified version of this paper is Allen, "Hypersonic Flight and the Reentry Problem," Journal 

of the Aeronautical Sciences, XXV (April 

1958),217-230. 

38 Alfred J. Eggers, "Performance of Long 

Range Hypervelocity Vehicles," Jet Propulsion, XXVII (Nov. 1957), 1147-1151. Actually the peak temperatures on the heatshield 

of the Mercury spacecraft during its reentry 

from an orbital mission reached approximately 

3000 degrees F. 

30 Eggers' design is sometimes erroneously 

referred to as the "sled," after the nickname 

for a quite similar proposal first made in 1957 

by Antonio Ferri and two others at the Gruen 

Applied Science Laboratories, of Hempstead, 

New York. See Antonio Ferri, Lewis Feldman, and Walter Daskin, "The Use of Lift for 

Re-entry from Satellite Trajectories," Jet 

Propulsion, XXVII (Nov. 1957), 1184-1191. 

Ferri, Feldman, and Daskin described a highdrag configuration which by flying at a proper 

angle of attack could produce a comparable 

amount of lift. Their vehicle would have an 

open top surface, and in this open area would 

be located a bubble-canopy sealed cabin. Reentry would be along a phugoid skip trajectory, 

with the lower surface of the vehicle acting as 

a heat sink. 

40 Purser log. 

H Eggers letter; Syvertson interview. 

I~ Memo, Major George D. Colchagoff to 

Lt. Col. R. C. Anderson, "New Research Systems," Feb. 16, 1956; Colchagoff interview, 

Washington, December 3, 1964; "Chronology 

of Early USAF Man-in-Space Activity, 1945­

1958," Air Force Systems Command, 3-4. 

43 Colchagoff memo. Since 1952 the Air 

Force had sponsored studies of the rocketlaunched glider concept at the Bell Aircraft 

Corp. (Project Bomi). These studies had 

been instigated at Bell by Walter Dornberger. 

531 
11, 1964; Colchagoff interview; Chronology 

of Early USAF Man-in-Space Activity, 1945­

1958," 4-5. 

15 "Chronology of Early Air Force Man-inSpace Activity, 1955-1960," Air Force Systems 

Command, 1. 

40 House Select Committee on Astronautics 

and Space Exploration, 85 Cong., 2 sess. 

( 1958), Astronautics and Space Exploration, 

Hearings, testimony of Arthur Kantrowitz, 509. 

41 "Chronology of Early Air Force Man-inSpace Activity, 1955-1960," 2-6; Mae M. 

Link, Space Medicine in Project Mercury, 

NASA SP-4003 (Washington, 1965), 23-24; 

"Chronology of Early USAF Man-in-Space 

Activity, 1945-1958," 6. The Western Development Division was renamed the Ballistic 

Missile Division on June 1, 1957. 

48 Minutes, NACA Executive Committee, 

Washington, Feb. 21, 1957, 7-8, NASA Hist. 

Archives. 

40 "Preliminary Investigation of a New Research Airplane for Exploring the Problems of 

Efficient Hypersonic Flight," NACA/Ames 

Aeronautical Laboratory, Moffett Field, Calif., 

Jan. 18, 1957. This Ames proposal for a hypervelocity glider with a round bottom for heat 

protection should not be confused with Eggers' 

M-l concept, which was planned as a much 

smaller manned satellite vehicle. The technical kinship between the two, however, is 

obvious. 

GO Letter, Hartley A. Soule to J. M . G., Aug. 

29, 1965. 

rot Letter, Crowley to Edward W. Sharp, 

Dir., Lewis, June 17, 1957; letter, Crowley to 

Reid, Langley, June 17, 1957; memo, Crowley 

to Ames, "Meeting of Round III Steering Committee to be held at NACA Headquarters, 

July 2, 1957," June 18, 1957; memo for Dir., 

Clotaire Wood, "Presentation to Air Force 

Headquarters on Round III," July 11, 1957; 

"Study of the Feasibility of a Hypersonic Research Airplane," NACA, Washington, Sept. 

8, 1957. 

52 Ibid., 6-24. The term "Round Three," 

as used by the NACA and Air Force, referred 

to the third phase of the research airplane program, the first beginning with the X-I and 

extending through the X-2, the second being 

the X-15. 

S;} Eggers letter; Paul Purser, interview, 

532 

its research emphasis, that he would spend no 

more effort on the Round Three concept, an

that henceforth he would go to work on or

biting a man as fast as possible. "For me,

said SouIe, "Project Mercury was born with 

Faget's remarks... . " Soule letter. 

55 This was a phrase current in ARDC in 

1956-1957, Colchagoff interview; Virgil I

Grissom, interview, Houston, April 12, 1965

,;0 Astronautics and Space Exploration, tes

timony of Kan trowi tz, 510; "Chronology o

Early Air Force Man-in-Space Activity, 1955

1960," 14-15; "Chronology of Early USAF 

Man-in-Space Activity, 1945-1958," 8. 

r.7 Ibid.; Link, Space Medicine in Projec

Mercury, 24. 

liB Chronology of Early Air Force Man-in

Space Activity, 1955-1960," 15; House Com

mittee on Science and Astronautics, 87 Cong

1 sess. (1961), House Report No. 67,A Chro

nology of Missile and Astronautic Events, 36

New York Times, Dec. 11, 14, 1957. 

GO "Chronology of Early Air Force Man-in

Space Activity, 1955-1960," 12, 18-19. 

00 Letter, Donald L. Putt, Deputy Chief o

Staff, Development, United States Air Force

to Dryden, Director, NACA, Jan. 31, 1958. 

Ot Memorandum of Understanding, "Prin

ciples for Participation of NACA in Develop

ment and Testing of the Air Force System 

464L Hypersonic Boost Glide Vehicle (Dyna

Soar I)," May 20,1958, NASA Hist. Archives

In July 1958 the Air Force awarded concur

rent feasibility study contracts to two contrac

tor teams headed by the Martin Company and 

the Boeing Company. Almost two years later

after Project Mercury was well underway

Martin was chose'n to build the booster system 

and Boeing the hypersonic vehicle itself. B

that time the Dyna-Soar concept called for 

true satellite vehicle acting as a controllabl

glider in the atmosphere. After a complex 

and controversial history, Dyna-Soar finally 

fell victim to leapfrogging space technology

particularly the two-man Gemini program ini

tiated by NASA. Economy drives in the De

fense Department also played a part in thi

December 10, 1963, decision. After an ex

penditure of over $350 million without a single 

test flight, and in the face of a predicted tota

cost of around $800 million, Secretary of De

fense Robert S. McNamara ordered the can
Aeronautics and Space Administration: Projects Mercury) Gemini) and Apollo) 151-154; 

Glenn L. Martin Co. advertisement, Space/ 

Aeronautics, XXX (Dec. 1958), 78; "DynaSoar's History Full of Re-examinations," Aviation Week, LXXVII (July 22, 1963), 233; 

and Martin Caidin, Rendezvous in Space (New 

Yor~ 1962), 260- 269. 

O~ "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 13; House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 

1 sess. (1960), Project Mercury ) First Interim 

Report, 3. 

Chapter IV 

1 Minutes, NACA Committee on Aerodynamics, Forrestal, Nov. 18-20,1957,17- 18. 

2 Minutes, NACA Executive Committee, 

Washington, Nov. 21, 1957, 6-5, NASA Hist. 

Archives, Washington. Jerome C. Hunsaker, 

who onl y the previous year had resigned the 

chairmanship of the Main Committee, initially 

was offered the chairmanship of the Special 

Committee on Space Technology, but he 

declined. 

J Minutes, NACA Executive Committee, 

Washington, Feb. 20, 1958, NASA Hist. 

Archives. 

• Hugh L. Dryden, interview, Washington, 

Aug. 31, 1965; Paul G. Dembling, interview, 

Washington, Sept. 2, 1965. 

Ii Minutes, NACA Executive Committee, 

Washington, Jan. 16, 1958, NASA Hist. Archives; Arthur S. Levine, "United States Aeronautical Research Policy, 1915-1958: A Study 

of the Major Policy Decisions of the National 

Advisory Committee for Aeronautics," unpublished Ph. D. dissertation, Columbia University, 

1963, 146- 147. 

6 The speech was published in somewhat revised form as "Space Technology and the 

NACA," Aeronautical Engineering Review) 

XVII (March 1958),32-34,44. See also Jay 

Holmes, America on the Moon: The Enterprise 

of the Sixties (Philadelphia, 1962),72. 

7 NACA Lewis Staff, "A Program for Expansion of NACA Research in Space Flight 

Technology, with Estimates of the Staff and 

Facilities Required," Washington, Feb. 10, 

1958. 

8 See Historical Sketch of NASA, SP-29 

Force Systems Command, 24. 

10 See n. 39, chap. III. 

II Memo, Clarence A. Syvertson to Dir., 

Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, "Visit to 

WADC, Wright-Patterson AFB, Ohio, to Attend Conference on January 29-31, Concerning 

Research Problems Associated with Placing a 

Man in a Satellite Vehicle," Feb. 18, 1958. 

For a more detailed rundown of the company 

proposals presented at the conference, see 

James M. Grimwood, Project Mercury: A 

Chronology) NASA SP-4001 (Washington, 

1963), 14-15. 

12 "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 13-15; "Chronology of Early Air Force Man-in-Space Activity, 

1955-1960," 27-32. 

13 "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 16 ; George D. 

Colchagoff, interview, Washington, Dec. 3, 

1964. 

B See John B. Medaris, Countdown for De- 

cision (New York, 1960) ; and David S. Akens, 

Historical Origins of the George C. Marshall 

Space Flight Center (Huntsville, Ala., 1960). 

15 House Committee on Scitllce and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), U.S. Aeronautics and Space Activities) Jan. 1 to Dec. 31) 

1958: Message from the President of the United 

States, 8; Mary Stone Ambrose, "The National 

Space Program," unpublished M.A. thesis, 2 

vols., American University, 1960-1961, I, 51­

53; Levine, "U.S. Aeronautical Research 

Policy," 149-150. 

IS "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 16; "Chronology 

of Early Air Force Man-i.n-Space Activity, 

1955-1960," 33-34. The first successful flight 

of the Atlas, as noted earlier, came on Dec. 17, 

1957, when an Atlas-A, a test rocket minus the 

sustainer engine, impacted on its target about 

500 miles downrange from Cape Canaveral. 

On Dec . 19, 1957, a Thor made its first fully 

guided flight with an all-inertial guidance system. See Julian Hartt, The Mighty Thor: Missile in Readiness (New York, 1961), 70-75. 

17 "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 17-18; memo, 

Lawrence A. Clousing to Dir., Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, "Working Conference for the 

Air Force 'Man-in-Space Soonest' Program, 

held March 10-11 - 12, 1958, at the Air Force 

533 
~t See Otto Gauer, "The Physiological Effect 

of Prolonged Weightlessness," in U.S. Air Force, 

German Aciation Medicine, World War II (2 

\·ols., Washington, 1950), I, 577. 

~~ Clousing memo; "Chronology of Early 

USAF Man-in-Space Activity, 1945-1958," 11­

12. 

~~ Ibid., "Chronology of Early Air Force 

Man-in-Space Activity, 1955-1960," 37-38: 

Clousing memo. 

~l Sec pp. 73-74. 

~:; Memo, Ira H. Abbott, Asst. Dir. for Research, to Langley Aeronautical Laboratory, 

Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, Lewis Flight 

Propulsion Laboratory, and High Speed Flight 

Station, "Meeting of the Steering Committee 

for a New Research Vehicle," Feb. 19, 1958; 

memo, Hartley A. Soule, "Meeting of the Steering Committee for a New Research Vehicle 

System at Ames Laboratory on March 11 , 

1958," March 12, 1958. 

~o Memo, John W. Crowley, Assoc. Dir. for 

Research, NACA, to Comdr., Air Research and 

Development Command, "Man-in-SpaceNACA Participation in Preparing Abbreviated 

Development Plan," March 14, 1958; Proposed 

Memorandum of Understanding, "Principles 

for the Conduct by the NACA and the Air 

Force of a Joint Project for a Recoverable 

Manned Satellite Test Vehicle," April 11, 1958; 

memo, Clotaire Wood, Asst. Dir. for Research 

Management, to Dir. of Research and Development, Office of Depu ty Chief of Staff, Development, Hq. USAF, "Transmittal of Copies of 

Proposed Memorandum of Understanding Between Air Force and NACA for Joint NACAAir Force Project for a Recoverable Manned 

Satellite Test Vehicle," April 11, 1958; memo 

for files, Wood, "Tabling of Proposed Memorandum of Understanding Between Air Force 

and NACA for a Joint Project for a Recoverable Manned Satellite Test Vehicle," May 20, 

1958. See also memo for historical files, Dryden, "The Signed Agreement of April 11, 1958, 

on a Recoverable Manned Satellite Test Vehicle," Sept. 8, 1965. The postponed joint 

NACA-Air Force manned satellite project 

should not be confused with the cooperative 

arrangement set up for Dyna-Soar, a formal 

agreement on which was signed by NACA and 

the Air Force in May 1958. 

534 

Years: Waging Peace, 1956-1961 (Garden 

City, N.Y., 1965). 

~< President's Scientific Advisory Com

mittee, Introduction to Outer Space, in Senate 

Special Committee on Space and Astronautics

85 Cong., 2 sess. (1958), Compilation of Ma

terials on Outer Space, No.1, 45-46. The 

foregoing account of the work of PSAC in the 

late winter of 1958 is taken mainly from inter

views with Dryden, Wood, and Dembling

Washington, Aug. 31, Sept. 1 and 2, 1965; and 

memo, Dryden for Eugene M. Emme for NASA 

Historical Files, "The NACA-NASA Transi

tion, October 1957 to October 1958," Sept. 8

1965. 

~~ Levine, "U.S. Aeronautical Research 

Policy," 151-156; Ambrose, "National Space 

Program," I, 79-87; Robert L. Rosholt, An 

Administrative History of NASA, 1958-1963

NASA SP-4101 (Washington, 1966), 6-12

Dryden interview. Eisenhower's message o

April 2 is reprinted, among many other places

in House Select Committee on Astronau tics and 

Space Exploration, 85 Cong., 2 sess. (1958)

Astronautics and Space Exploration, Hearings, 

820-821. 

:lO The administration bill is reprinted

among other places, in Astronautics and Space 

Exploration, 11-15. The legislative history o

the bill is discussed in detail in Alison E. Grif

fith, The National Aeronautics and Space Act: 

A Study of Public Policy (Washington, 1962)

~t Indicative of the widespread and growing concern at Langley over the prospect o

space flight was a special course in basic space 

technology, given by members of the Flight Research Division from Feb. to May 1958. The 

lectures covered such subjects as lunar orbits

rocket operation, aerodynamic heating of spacecraft, and the medical problems of space flight. 

See "Notes on Space Technology Compiled by 

the Flight Research Division," Langley Aeronautical Laboratory, Feb.-May 1958. One of 

the members of the Fligh t Research Division 

at the time has referred to these collected lectures as "essentially the first U.S. textbook in 

space flight technology." John P. Mayer, comments, Sept. 8, 1965. 

~2 This estimate was broken down into 30 

percent space research in aerodynamics, 20 percent in propulsion, and 5 percent in structures. 
cal Year 1958," chart in Astronautics and 

Space Exploration, 404- 405 . 

I These generalizations are based on conversations with various senior members of the 

technical staff at what is now the NASA Ames 

Research Center, Moffett Field, Calif., April 

22-23, 1964. During this visit mottoes such 

as "NACA Forever" and "NASA Go Home" 

were observed posted around the laboratories. 

3-> Paul E. Purser, interview, Houston, Feb. 

12, 1964. 

30 See Ms., anon., "NACA Research into 

Space," Washington, Dec. 1957 ; and William 

M . Bland, Jr., "The Design of Multistage 

Rocket Vehicles for Hypersonic Research," 

Langley, 1958. 

37 For the characteristics of the Scout see 

"Considerations Affecting Satellite and Space 

Probe Research with Emphasis on the 'Scout' 

as a Launch Vehicle," NASA Tech. Report 

R-97, Washington, 1961. 

311 Maxime A. Faget, biography sheet, 

NASA/MSC, May 1963. 

30 Charles W. 1tlathews, interview, Houston, 

Feb. 24, 1964; Faget, interview, Houston, Aug. 

24, 1964; Purser, log of administrative activities related to space and missile research, Jan. 

4, 1956, to April 25, 1958. 

1Q "NACA Conference on High-Speed Aerodynamics, Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, 

Moffett Field, Calif. , March 18, 19, and 20, 

1958: A Compilation of the Papers Presented." 

oil Maxime A. Faget, Benjamine J. Garland, 

and James J. Buglia, "Preliminary Studies of 

Manned Satellites-Wingless Configurations: 

Nonlifting," ibid., 9-34. 

1~ John V. Becker, "Preliminary Studies of 

Manned Satellites-Winged Configurations," 

ibid., 45-58 . 

'~Thomas J. Wong, Charles A. Hermach, 

John O. Reller, Jr., and Bruce E. Tinling, 

"Preliminary Studies of Manned SatellitesWingless Configurations: Lifting Body," ibid. , 

35-40. 

H Letter, Alfred J. Eggers to C. C. A., June 

24, 1964. 

,:; Faget interview. 

, 0 For the specific problems in launching 

and recovering a manned satellite being examined at Langley, see the outline "Manned 

Satellite Program, Prepared by the NACA 

staff, March 12, 1958." 

48 "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 19-20; "Chronology of Early Air Force Man-in-Space Activity, 1955-1960," 38-39. See pp. 81-82. 

~ "Chronology of Early Air Force Man-inSpace Activity, 1955-1960," 41, 43-44 ; 

"Chronology of Early USAF Man-in-Space 

Activity, 1945-1958," 21-22. See also Mae 

M. Link, Space Medicine in Project Mercury, 

NASA SP-4003 (Washington, 1965),25. 

50 "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 23. 

51 "Proposal for a Manned Satellite," Avco 

Manufacturing Corp. , and Convair/Astronautics Div., General Dynamics Corp., April 

30, 1958. 

r.:J "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 22-23 ; "Chronology of Early Air Force Man-in-Space Activity, 

1955-1960," 45-46. 

(;3 Memo for files, Faget, "Attendance at 

ARDC Briefing on 'Man in Space' Program," 

March 5, 1958. See also memo to NACA, 

Soule, "Second Discussion of ARDC Briefing 

on 'Man in Space' Program," March 27, 1958. 

51 "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 23-34; "Outline 

of History of USAF Man-in-Space Research 

and Development Program," Air Force information policy letter supplement No. 1 09, Aug. , 

1962, published in Missiles and Rockets, X 

(March 26, 1962), 148; memo, Crowley to 

Langley, Ames, Lewis Laboratories and High 

Speed Flight Station, "An AVCO-Convair 

Proposal for Manned Satellite," May 16, 1958. 

55 "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 25. 

56 See memo, Herbert F. York, Chief Scientist, ARPA, to Roy W. Johnson, "Next Steps 

to be Taken in Formulating Man in Space 

Program," June 7, 1958. 

57 "Chronology of Early USAF Man-inSpace Activity, 1945-1958," 25-27; "Outline 

of History of USAF Man-in-Space Program," 

148. 

GS Faget interview; memo, Faget to Dryden, 

"Faget Dealings with ARPA during the Past 

Several Weeks," June 5, 1958; York memo. 

59 "Outline of History of Man-in-Space 

Program," 149 ; "Chronology of Early USAF 

Man-in-Space Activity, 1945-1958," 26 ; 

535 
p

memo, Purser to Robert R. Gilruth, "Langley 

Manned Satellite Program," April 11, 1958. 

8] Purser interview. 

G~ Purser log; Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 14; William M. Bland, Jr., "Project 

Mercury," in Eugene M. Emme, ed., The History of Rocket Technology: Essays on Research, 

Development, and Utility (Detroit, 1964), 212. 

83 Purser log; Purser memo. 

C~ "How the Mercury Capsule Design 

Evolved," Aviation Week, LXX (Sept. 21, 

1959), 52-53; letter, Alan B. Kehlet to L.S.S., 

July 2, 1964; Faget interview. 

6:; "How Mercury Capsule Design Evolved," 

53-54; Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., "A Review 

of Knowledge Acquired from the First Manned 

Satellite Program," NASA/MSC fact sheet No. 

206. 

C8 William E. Stoney, Jr., "Aerodynamic 

Heating of Blunt Nose Shapes at Mach Numbers Up to 14," in "NACA Conference on HighSpeed Aerodynamics, Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, Moffett Field, CaliL, March 18, 19, 

and 20, 1958, A Compilation of the Papers Presented," 227-244; Stoney, interview, Houston, 

Feb. 13, 1964; Alvin Seiff and Thomas N. Canning, interviews, Moffett Field, CaliL, April 22, 

1964. 

6, Wood, interview, Washington, Sept. 1, 

1965; memo, Wood, "Background on WADC 

Letter to NASA of October 22, 1958, Covering 'Ablation/Heat Sink InvestigationManned Reentry,''' Nov. 7, 1958. The Air 

Force and NACA investigators completed their 

tests in October 1958. ARDC had conducted 

tests at the Chicago Midway Laboratories, 

while the NACA engineers had worked in the 

hot jet facilities at Langley. Both groups devoted most of their time to studies of ablation. 

Memo, Lester J. Charnock, Tech. Dir., Deputy 

Chief of Staff for Plans and Operations, to 

Comdr., Air Research and Development Command, "Ablation/Heat Sink InvestigationManned Reentry," Oct. 21, 1958. 

GS Memo, George M. Low to NASA Administrator, "House Committee Staff Report on 

Project Mercury," Jan. 26, 1960; "How Mercury Capsule Design Evolved," 55; Willard S. 

Blanchard, interview, Langley Field, Va., Jan. 

6, 1964; Bland, "Project Mercury," 215. 

8~ Besides fear of excessive g on the abort536 

contact with the human passenger. 

.0 Stanley C. White, interview, San Antonio

Aug. 18, 1965 . 

• 1 Sec pp. 43-46. 

.~ Faget, marginal notes on "Outline of History of Man-in-Space Program." .3 "Outline of History of Man-in-Space Pro

gram," 149. 

~~ "Chronology of Early USAF Man-in

Space Activity, 1945-1958," 28-29; "Chronology of Early USAF Man-in-Space Activity

1955-1960," 58-60. 

~:; Colchagoff interview; "Outline of History of Man-in-Space Program," 149; "Chronology of Early USAF Man-in-Space Activ

ity, 1955-1960," 60-62; "Chronology of Early 

USAF Man-in-Space Activity, 1945-1958," 

29-30. Some sense of the frustration felt by 

various Air Force leaders regarding man-inspace plans during this period can be gained 

from the biographical sketch on Brig. Gen

Don D. Flickinger in Shirley Thomas, Men of 

Space (6 vols., Philadelphia, 1960-1963), III

77-79. 

~o Public Law 85-568, 85 Cong., 2 sess

( 1958), H.R. 1257 5, National Aeronautics 

and Space Act of 1958, Sec. 203(a). 

77 Charles S. Sheldon II, interview, Washington, Sept. 2, 1965; Glen P. Wilson, interview, Washington, Sept. 2, 1965. 

.8 Frank Gibney and George F. Feldman

The Reluctant Space-Farers: A Study in the 

Discovery of Politics (New York, 1965),68. 

~n Rosholt, Administrative History of NASA, 

13-15; Ambrose, "National Space Program," 

I, 92-152; Levine, "U.S. Aeronautical Research Policy," 172-180. The Space Coun

cil consisted of the Secretaries of State and 

Defense, the Administrator of NASA, the 

Chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission

and the President. 

'4 Senate Special Committee on Space and 

Astronautics, 85 Cong., 2 sess. (1958), Nom

inations, Hearings on the Nomination of T. 

Keith Glennan and Hugh L. Dryden. 

'1 Rosholt, Administrative History of NASA, 

40-42; memo for Dir., NACA, Ira H. Abbott

Ralph E. Cushman, Paul G. Dembling, Rober

J. Lacklan, Ralph E. Ulmer, Clotaire Wood

"Submittal of Final Report of Ad Hoc Committee on NASA Organization based on the 
Adam," Army Ballistic Missile Agency, Redstone Arsenal, Ala., April 17, 1958. The 

Adam concept involved use of drag flaps to 

slow the nose cone's rate of descent and ptovide aerodynamic stability during reentry. 

At lower altitudes, parachutes would deploy 

to slow the capsule down still more. The development plan for Adam specified that several 

primate flights would precede the first manned 

shot. Unquestionably the most unusual technical aspect of Adam, and one that later produced considerable amusement among the 

engineers who directed Project Mercury, was 

the tank filled with water, into which the payload would be tossed by an au tomatic mechanism in case of booster malfunction on the 

launch pad. 

'~Message, John B. Medaris to August 

Schomburg, Chief of Ordnance, Dept. of the 

Army, Feb. 12, 1958 ; notes, "Project 'Man 

Very High' (MVH ) ," Feb. 17, 1958; message, 

]. A. Barclay to "Co!. Coffin," Washington, 

" Proposed Project Adam," April 1958; Norman L. Baker, "Air Force Won't Support 

Project Adam," Missiles and Rockets, III 

(June 1958 ), 40-41 ; Link, S pace Medicine in 

Project Mercury, 26-27. 

fH Astronautics and Space Exploration, testimony of Hugh Dryden and Arthur Kantrowitz, 117, 420, 516-517; Holmes, A me rica on 

the Moon, 73- 74. In August, Avco representatives presented a briefing to Brig. Gen. 

Homer A. Boushey, Director of Advanced 

Technology, H eadquarters USAF. The Ballistic Missile Division still opposed the dragbrake device and advocated the Man-in-SpaceSoonest approach. "Chronology of Early Air 

Force Man-in-Space Activity, 1955-1960," 66. 

b;; Memo, Roy W. Johnson, ARPA Dir., to 

Secretary of the Army, "Project Adam," July 

11, 1958 ; "Project Adam Chronology," Army 

Ballistic Missile Agency, undated ; memo, 

Donald A. Quarles, Deputy Secretary of Defense, to Secretary of the Army, "Project 

Adam," Aug. 15, 1958 ; Link, Space Medicine 

in Project Mercury, 27 . 

80 "MER II: Navy Manned Satellite Study, 

Summary," Convair Div., General Dynamics 

Corp., Dec. 1958; House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong. , 2 sess. 

(1960) , Project Mercury, First Interim Report, 4. 

~n Ibid., 68; Chronology of USAF Manin-Space Activity, 1945-1958," 31-32; "Outline of History of Man-in-Space Program," 

149 ; CoJchagoff interview. 

flO The pros and cons of the military's place 

in space have been debated almost incessantly 

since the immediate post-Sputnik days. For 

a treatment of the controversy, see, for example, Vernon Van Dyke, Pride and Power: The 

Rationale 0/ the Space Program (Urbana, II!., 

1964 ) . In retrospect, it seems proper to conclude that "the real issue within the Government was not whether to have a military or 

civilian space effort, but to create suitable 

arrangements for both." House Committee on 

Government Operations, 89 Cong., 1 sess. 

(1965), Go vernment Operations in Space, 

Staff Report No. 445, 36. 

01 See memo for files, Hugh M. Henneberry

NACA Space Flight Office, "Briefing by General Electric Representatives on Studies Related 

to Man-in-Space Program," July 17, 1958

memo, Henneberry and G. C. Deutsch, to Assoc

Dir., "Discussions with Avco and Lockheed 

Representatives Concerning Materials for 

Thermal Protection of Satellite Reentry Vehicles, Washington, June 26-27, 1958," Sept. 

8, 1958. 

ro "Specifications for a Manned Satellite 

Capsule," Langley Research Center, undated; 

C. C. Johnson, interview, Houston, Feb. 13

1964; Mathews interview. 

93 Memo for files, Purser, "General Background Material on Project Mercury," March 

23, 1959; Project Mercury, First Interim Report, 5. 

9~ Purser, interview, July 18, 1965; North 

memo; Ms., William M. Bland, Jr., for Project 

Mercury Technical History Program, "The 

Birth of the Little Joe Booster" undated' 

Bland, interview, Houston, April 1'4, 1965. ' 

95 House Select Committee on Astronautics 

and Space Exploration, 85 Cong., 2 sess. 

(1958), Authorizing Construction for the Natienal Aeronautics and Space Administration, 

Hearings, 17-18. 

06 Eugene M. Emme, Aeronautics and Astronautics: An American Chronology of Science 

and Astronautics in the Exploration of Space, 

1915-1960 (Washington, 1961), 101. 

97 Memo, Roy Johnson, ARPA Dir., to 

NASA Administrator, "Man-in-Space Pro537 
00 T. Keith Glennan, "Proclamation on 

Organization of the National Aeronautics and 

Space Administration," NASA General Directive No.1, Sept. 25, 1958. 

100 Quoted in message to Langley Research 

Center, Sept. 25, 1958. 

Chapter V 

1 T. Keith Glennan, in a letter to C. C. A. 

dated Dec. 18, 1963, said he could not recall 

precisely either the dates or the happenings at 

the meetings during his first official week in 

office. But he added, "It seemed the natural 

course for me to accept the recommendations 

of the only people who knew very much about 

the matter and initiate the program as soon 

as NASA became an operating agency. In 

short, I do not recall that President Eisenhower actually assigned the manned space 

flight program to NASA-I guess I just accepted the tasks which we would have to 

undertake." See also Clotaire Wood, interview, Washington, D.C., Sept. 1, 1965, for 

witness to the words to proceed. 

~ NASA First Semiannual Report to Congress} Oct. 1, 1958-Mar. 31} 1959 (Washington, 1959); "Historical Sketch of NASA," 

NASA EP-29 (Washington, 1965). 

3 Memo, Roy W. Johnson to NASA Administrator, "Man-in-Space Program," Sept. 

18, 1958; House Select Committee on Astronautics and Space Exploration, 85 Cong., 2 

sess. (1958), Authorizing Construction for the 

National Aeronautics and Space Administration} 17-21; Senate Committee on Appropriations, 85 Cong., 2 sess. (1958), The Supplemental Appropriations Bill} 1959, Hearings, 

801-806. 

! Minutes, Panel for Manned Space Flight, 

Appendix A, 1, Warren J. North, secretary, 

Sept. 24 and 30, and Oct. 1, 1958. For membership of the committee, see p. 106. 

ti See Paul E. Purser, "History," in Purser, 

Maxime A. Faget, and Norman F. Smith, eds., 

Manned Spacecraft : Engineering Design and 

Operation (New York, 1964), 6, 8. Cf. articles by William Leavitt in John F. Loosbrock, 

ed., Space Weapons: A Handbook of Military 

Astronautics (New York, 1959), 107, 177. 

o Alfred J. Eggers' advocacy of a higher 

seven working groups generally favorable to 

these plans for manned space flight. See Ms. 

in NASA Hq. Hist. Archives, "Recommendations to the NASA Regarding a National Civil 

Space Program," No. VIII-C, Oct. 28, 1958. 

R Abe Silverstein, interview, Cleveland, May 

1, 1964. For details on the launching of 

NASA, see Robert L. Rosholt, An Administrative History of NASA} 1958 to 1963 (Washington, 1966), Chap. 3. See also "Top Aides 

Named by Space Agency," New York Times, 

Oct. 5, 1958. 

o "Background Information on Langley 

Research Center," Public Affairs Office} LRC, 

June 1960. The bulk of the professional staff 

consisted of "aeronau tical research engineers." 

Since about 1954 some engineers, recruited 

from industry or from "accredited" schools 

of aeronautics, together with senior and most 

valuable members of the NACA laboratory 

teams, had been given more nearly competitive 

salaries and the title of "aeronautic::al research 

scientist." College accreditation and comparative evaluation were as problematical in 

this as in any other field, but institutions with 

high reputations for excellence in aeronautical 

engineering and aerodynamics included the 

California and Massachusetts Institutes of 

Technology, Stanford, Michigan State, and 

Cornell Universities, and many others certified 

by various professional societies. 

10 A few generalizations may be hazarded 

about Langley before 1959. Most of its professional staff came from the South and Midwest; few had been academically trained as 

aeronautical engineers; most held only bachelor's degrees, usually in mechanical or electrical engineering, often from Georgia Institute of Technology, Virginia Polytechnic 

Institute, or Auburn University. An esprit 

de corps based on many years of valuable 

serVIce to aviation and to the nation seems to 

have been pervasive. And certainly the Langley professional people always would insist on 

their own experience and contributions as 

having proved the artificiali ty of invidious distinctions between science and engineering. 

Most helpful for understanding the nature of 

governmental management of applied science 

is David Novick, "What Do We Mean By 

Research and Development?" in California 

538 
Aug. 31, 1965; Robert R. Gilruth, inte.rview, 

Houston, March 18, 1964. 

l3 See the biography by Frank Waters, 

Robert Gilruth: Engineering Space Exploration 

(Chicago, 1963), 24-60. 

13 Memo, Gilruth to Assoc. Dir., "Space 

Task Group," Nov. 3, 1958; memo to all concerned, Floyd L. Thompson, "Space Task 

Group," Nov. 5, 1958. See memos, Charles H. 

Zimmerman to Procurement Officer, "Request 

for Authority to Negotiate a Contract for 

Manned Satellite Capsules," Nov. 3,1958; 

Sherwood L. Butler to NASA Hq., "Request for 

Authority," Nov. 4, 1958. 

]I Ms. notes, Jerome B. Hammack, "Manned 

Ballistic Satellite Group," Aug. 19, 1958; letter, 

Purser to Mary S. Ambrose, undated, 2; Andre 

J. Meyer, Jr., interview, Houston, Feb. 24, 

1964. For key management positions and progression, see James M. Grimwood, Project 

Mercury: A Chronology, NASA SP-4001 

(Washington, 1963), Appendix 8. 

15 Alfred Rosenthal, The Early Years: Goddard Space Flight Center Historical Origins 

and Activities through December 1962 (Washington, 1964), 17-20, 27. 

10 Besides those named in the text, the original list of Space Task Group members on Nov. 

5, 1958, included Edison M. Fields, Claiborne 

R . Hicks, Jr., Ronald Kolenkiewicz, John B. 

Lee, Herbert G. Patterson, Frank C. Robert, 

William C. Muhly, and Paul D. Taylor, as professionals; Shirley J. Hatley, Norma L. Livesay, Nancy C. Lowe, Betsy F. Magin, Joseph J. 

Rollins, Ronelda F. Sartor, Jacquelyn B. Stearn, 

Julia R. Watkins, and Shirley P. Watkins, as 

clerical staff. The 10 members of the formal 

Lewis detachment were Elmer H. Buller, A. M. 

Busch, W. R. Dennis, M. J. Krasnican, Glynn 

S. Lunney, Andre J. Meyer, W. R. Meyer, W. J. 

Nesbitt, Gerard J. Pesman, and Leonard Rabb. 

Others from Lewis, like John H. Disher and 

Kenneth C. Weston, also commuted informally. 

17 George M. Low, interview, Houston, 

March 19, 1964; Gilruth, interview; Dryden, 

interviews, Washington, Sept. 11, 1964, and 

Aug.31,1965. 

18 John P. Mayer, interview, Houston, Oct. 

19, 1964. For an overview of scientific expectation from the IGY, see D. R. Bates, ed., The 

Earth and Its Atmosphere (New York, 1957; 

Science Editions, Inc., 1961), 97-112. The 

miles; instrumented rockets going higher than 

that were called probes. On the word "aero

space" as used by the Air Force, see David 

Burnham, "The Air Force Coins a Word," 

The Reporter, XXVIII (June 6,1963),32-33. 

19 On the evolution of the standard atmosphere, see the works of Harry Wexler, Director 

of Meteorological Research of the U ni ted 

States Weather Bureau, and the foreword by 

Maurice Dubin, Norman Sissenwine, and Wexler to U.S. Standard Atmosphere, 1962 (Washington, 1962), xiv-xv. Also a 1957 course of 

lectures sponsored by Space Technology Laboratories and the University of California a

Los Angeles provided a comprehensive topica

guide to the "state-of-the-art" of aerospace 

technology and achieved wider circulation 

when printed: Howard Seifert, ed., Space 

Technology (New York, 1959). 

20 Peck and Scherer, The Weapons Acquisi

tion Process, 9, passim. See also article by H

Guyford Stever, "Outer Space: The Technical 

Prospects" in Lincoln P. Bloomfield, ed., Outer 

Space: Prospects for Man and Society (Englewood Cliffs, N.J., 1962). Comments by Manley]. Hood of Ames, Oct. 29, 1965, disagree 

with this general assessment, but the missile 

divisions of old aircraft corporations were more 

often than not semi-autonomous. 

~t NASA First Semiannual Report to Congress, 36, 37, 50. On this synthesis, see Hugh 

L. Dryden, "Scientific Bases of Airplane, Pro

jectile and Missile Development," paper, American Ordnance Assn., New York City, Dec. 7

1955, 2-3. Cf. John B. Rae, "Science and 

Engineering in the History of Aviation," Technology and Culture, II (Fall 1961), 391-399. 

23 The Convair/Astronautics-Avco Mfg

Corp. "Proposal for a Manned Satellite," No

ARL 03752, April 30, 1958, was an excellen

introduction for STG to the men behind the 

Atlas as well as to their preliminary thinking. 

Cf. "Study for Manned Space Vehicle," Convair/ Astronautics, June 1958; and H. S. Gaul t 

and M. R. Tyson, "Study-Increased Capability of XSM-65 for Manned Space Flight Using 

'Off-the-Shelf' Upper Stages," Convair/Astronautics, A2P-059, Nov. 5, 1958. Memo, Silverstein to Assoc. Dir., Lewis Research Center

"Request for Information on Atlas LOX Pump 

Performance," Nov. 14, 1958; Silverstein intervlew. 

539 
Studies Related to Man-in-Space Program," 

July 17, 1958. 

2~ James S. McDonnell, Jr., "The Conquest 

of Space: A Creative Substitute for War," 

speech, Washington University, St. Louis, June 

9, 1958. Cf. McDonnell, "The Challenge of 

Man's Future in the Golden Age of Engineers," 

speech, University of Missouri School of Mines 

and Metallurgy, Rolla, Mo., May 26, 1957. 

25 "Manned Orbital Flight," Report 6272, 

McDonnell Aircraft Corp., Oct. 10, 1958. Cf. 

"Manned Orbital Flight Planning Proposal," 

Report 6418, McDonnell Aircraft Corp., Oct. 

15, 1958. Kendall Perkins, interview, St. Louis, 

Aug. 31, 1964; Raymond A. Pepping, interview, St. Louis, Sept. 1, 1964. 

26 "Briefing for Prospective Bidders for 

Manned Satellite Capsule," STG, Nov. 7,1958; 

Ms., Jack A. Kinzler for Project Mercury Technical History Program, "Manufacturing by 

NASA for Project Mercury," Aug. 1963; E. M. 

Gregory, interview, Langley Field, Va., Jan. 7, 

1964 ; Caldwell C. Johnson, "Specifications for 

a Manned Satellite Capsule," undated [about 

Oct. 20, 1958J; C. C. Johnson, interview, 

Houston, Feb. 13, 1964. 

27 Faget, marginal notes on "Outline of 

History of United States Air Force Man-inSpace Research and Development Program," 

anon., Aug. 1962; Wood, "Comments on Draft 

of Congress Staff Report on Mercury," Jan. 26, 

1960. See also Mae M. Link, Space Medicine 

in Project Mercury (NASA SP-4003, 1965), 

16,67. 

28 Purser, "Project Mercury Background 

Material," March 23, 1959, 1; Purser, "Summary of Management, Design and Operational 

Philosophy," lecture, University of Houston, 

Spring 1963, 3. Cf. Purser, Faget, and Smith, 

eds., Manned Spacecraft, 492. 

2lI Link, Space Medicine in Project Mercury, 

28. One of the best broad assessments of the 

"state-of-the-art" of aerospace technology at 

this time was prepar~d by the Rand Corporation under the direction of Robert W. Buchheim, and reissued as a Congressional report: 

House Select Committee on Astronautics and 

Space Exploration, 86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), 

Space Handbook: Astronautics and its Implications, 105, 166. 

540 

passim. 

32 See letter, Boone T . Guyton, sales manager, Missile and Space Systems Div., United 

Aircraft Corp., to Henry J. E. Reid, Dir., Langley Research Center, Nov. 26, 1958; Ruben F. 

Mettler, Space Technology Laboratories, to Gilruth, Nov. 11, 1958. After the bidders' briefing, STG mailed additional material to prospective bidders. See letters, Gilruth to all bidders on prime contract for Mercury capsule, 

Nov. 25, 1958. Cf. letters, Reid to prospective 

bidders on Mercury capsule, Nov. 19, 1958. 

Back in the fall of 1954, the X- 15 research airplane attracted nine companies to attend the 

bidders' briefing, and only four submitted bids. 

Walter C. Williams, interview, Houston, Aug. 

23, 1965. 

33 Memo for files, Charles J. Donlan, "Procedures for Technical Assessment of Manufacturers' Proposal . . . on Specification S-6," 

Dec. 10, 1958; memo, Silverstein to NASA Administrator, "Schedule for Evaluation and Contractual Negotiations for Manned Satellite 

Capsule," Dec. 24, 1958. See p. 137. MacDougall, interview ; memo, Low to NASA Administrator, "Status of Manned Satellite Project," Nov. 25, 1958. See also letter, Clarence 

A. Syvertson, Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, 

to Dir., Langley Aeronautical Laboatory, re 

conference at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, 

Jan. 29-31, 1958, on research problems associated with orbiting a manned satellite, Feb. 18, 

1958. 

3{ See John W. Bullard, History of the Redstone Missile System, U .S. Army Missile Command, Historical Monograph AMC 23-M, 

Redstone Arsenal, Alabama, Oct. 15, 1965; 

anonymous booklet, This Is Redstone, Chrysler Corporation Missile Division [Detroit, ca. 

Oct. 1958J. 

a;; Memos, Purser to Gilruth, "Procurement 

of Ballistic Missiles for Use as NASA Satellite 

Boosters," Sept. 25, 1958; "Procurement of 

Ballistic Missiles for Use as Boosters in NASA 

Research Leading to Manned Space Flight," 

Oct. 8, 1958. See also memo, Purser and 

Faget to Silverstein, "Assignment of Responsibility for ABMA Participation in NASA 

Manned Satellite Project," Nov. 12, 1958; A. 

Richard Felix, "Static Stability and Drag Investigation of Jupiter C Boosted NASA 
to Asst. Dir. for Advanced Technology, "Visit 

to ABMA Regarding Boosters," Dec. 4, 1958. 

See also "Development and Funding Plans for 

AOMC Support of NASA Manned Satellite 

Project," AOMC, Dec. 12, 1958; and Faget, 

interview, Houston, Aug. 23, 1965. 

37 Memo, North to NASA Administrator, 

"Background of Project Mercury Schedules," 

Aug. 14, 1960; Ms., William M. Bland, Jr., 

for Project Mercury Technical History Program, "The Birth of Little Joe Booster," undated; Bland, interview, Houston, April 14, 

1965. Unknown to STG, a JATO-powered 

ship-to-air missile named "Little Joe" had been 

authorized at the end of World War II to 

combat the Japanese suicide rocket or Baka 

bomb. See Eugene M. Emme, Aeronautics 

and Astronautics: An American Chronology of 

Science and Technologv in the ExplM/Ytion of 

Space, 1915-1960 (Washington, 1961), 50. 

38 See the description by bland, ·.i. roject 

Mercury," in Eugene M. Emme, ed., The History of Rocket Technology: Essays on Research, Development and Utility (Detroit, 

1964), 224--226. 

S1I Memo, Carl A. Sandahl to Assoc. Dir., 

Langley Research Center, "Langley Participation in Little Joe Project," Dec. 9, 1958. 

JO Letter, Donlan to J. A. O. Stankevics, 

Avco-Everett Research Laboratory, May 5, 

1960. 

H See John L. Chapman, Atlas: The Story 

of a Missile (New York, 1960), Chap. I and 

154--165, for a description of Project Score. 

Low, "Status Report No.1-Manned Satellite 

Project," Dec. 9, 1958. Johnson's concurrence on the manned satellite booster was 

reported in "Atlas Seen as Vehicle to Put Man 

Into Space," Washington Post, Dec. 22, 1958. 

See also, Frank J. Dore, comments, Aug. 16, 

1965. 

4~ Ms., Aleck C. Bond for Project Mercury 

Technical History Program, "Big Joe," June 

27, 1963, 5. A large part of the President's 

first annual report, required by the Space Act 

of 1958, was devoted to the problems of reentry, including aerodynamic heating. See 

House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 

86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), U.S. Aeronautics and 

Space Activities, Jan. 1 to Dec. 31, 1958: 

Message from the President of the United 

States, 2, 12, 20, 23. 

H Message, Commanding Officer, Wrigh

Air Dev. Center, to C.O., Air Research and 

Development Command, July 9, 1958. On 

Army Ballistic Missile Agency's successe

with ablative Jupiter nosecones in 1957 and 

1958, see Reentry Studies, 2 vols., Vitro Corp

report no. 2331-25, Nov. 25, 1958; Sarah 

S. Whitaker, "Bibliography-Jupiter Nose 

Cones," MSFC, Sept. 14, 1962; and W. R. 

Lucas and J. E. Kingsbury, "The ABMA Reinforced Plastics Ablation Program," reprinted 

from Modem Plastics (Oct. 1960). 

~;; Memo, Wood to Office of Space Fligh

Development, "Background on Letter of Octo

ber 22, 1958, Covering 'Ablation/Heat Sink 

Investigation-Manned Reentry,''' Nov. 7

1958. Cf. memo, Low to Newell Saunders

Nov. 28, 1958; "Specifications for Manned 

Space Capsule" ; Faget (interview) said "Ablation was ruled out as a material in the com

petition for the simple reason that it would 

prove to be too much of a 'wild card' in the 

technical assessment." In other words, said 

George Low, Oct. 5, 1965, "we wanted to 

select the best spacecraft manufacturer and 

not only the best heat shield inventor." 

~IJ Jack C. Heberlig, interview, Houston

Feb. 20, 1964; Hammack, interview, Houston

Feb. 13, 1964. See pp. 50-52. For a con

venient overview of the Manhigh, Excelsior

and Strato-Lab projects, see "Report on 

Manned Space Flight," session VII of Pro

ceedings of the Second National Conference 

on the Peaceful Uses of Space, Seattle, Washington, May 8-10, 1962, NASA SP-8 (Wash

ington, 1962),241-261. 

47 "Project Mercury Status Report No.1 for 

Period Ending Jan. 31, 1959," STG. See also

Emme, Aeronautics and Astronautics 1915

1960, appendix C, 161-165. 

48 Careful study of the "half proposal" by 

Winzen Research, Inc., described in "Techni

cal Proposal for NASA Man-in-Space Capsule 

Program," No. 1160-P, Dec. 8, 1958, for a 

balloon-hoisted sealed cabin similar to those 

used in the Air Force Project Manhigh and 

the Navy Strato-Lab continued within STG fo

several more months and was instrumental in 

determining that this kind of "space soak

would not justify its cost. 

to Low, "Status Report No.2-Manned 

Satellite Project," Dec. 17, 1958. The dange

541 
g

"Principles for the Conduct by NASA and th; 

Department of Defense of a Joint Program for 

a Manned Orbital Vehicle," Sept. 19, 1958. 

See also memo, Gilru th for all concerned "Organization of Space Task Group," Ja~. 26 

1959. ' 

GO Letter, Silverstein to Lt. Gen. Roscoe E. 

Wilson, U.S. Air Force, Nov. 20, 1958; NASAArmy joint news release, "NASA-Army Agreen;ent," Dec . 3, 1958; DeMarquis Wyatt, interVIew, Washington, Sept. ], ] 965. 

Gl "Status Report No.1." Sec also Link 

Space Medicine in Project Mercury , 44-59: 

G~ "Invitation to Apply for Position of Research Astronau t-Candida te," announcemen t 

No.1, NASA Project A, Dec. 22, 1958, 1. 

Succeeding quotations are from pages 3 and 4. 

Original plans for a maximum age of 35 were 

compromised by the requiremcnt~ for extensive 

:xpe~ience. ~ccumulating 1500 hours of flymg tIme reqUIres about 10 years. Sec letter, 

Ro~ert .B. Voas to John A. Walter, Syracuse 

Umverslty, April 1, 1960. 

:;J Low, "Status Report No.3-Project Mercury," Dec. 27, 1958; letter, Emme to Link and 

Grimwood, March 23, ] 964. 

G~ Donlan, interview, Langley Field, Va., 

J~n. 7, 1964. Cf. Neil A. Armstrong, "I DeCIded to Get Aboard," Life, CV (Sept. 27, 

1963),84. 

55 Low, "Status Report No.6-Project 

Mercury," Feb. 3, 1959; see also Donlan comments, Sept. 3, 1965. ' 

50 Letter, Reid to NACA Dir., July 29, 1958; 

memo, Low to Silverstein, Dec. 12, 1959. 

:;7 Letter, Low to Grimwood, Nov. 13, 1963 ; 

Theodore von Karman, Aerodynamics: Select ed 

Topics in the Light of Their Historical Development (Ithaca, N.Y., 1954), 189. The 

famous Renaissance sculpture by Giovanni da 

Bologna of Mercury poised on a zephyr's head , 

ready to spring into space, is an "image of energy" and the "accepted symbol of victorious 

speed," according to Kenneth Clark, The Nude: 

A Study in Ideal Form (New York, 1959),282. 

:;sEdith Hamilton, Mythology (New York, 

1958), 33; Thomas Bulfinch, Mythology, 

abridgement by Edmund Fuller (New York , 

1959), 18; Emme, Aeronautics and Astronautics, 1915-1960. 

on The announcement of the code name for 

542 

Statements on Manned Space Flight and 

Project Mercury," Aug. 12, 1960, 4. 

Chapter VI 

l House Commi ttee on Science and Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), A Chronology of Missile and Astronautic Events 64-66' 

Eugene M . Emme, Aeronautics and Astro~ nautics: An American Chronology of Science 

and Technology in the Exploration of Space 

1915-1960 (Washington, 1961), 106, 143. 

Cf. House Committee on Science and Astronau tics, 86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), The First 

Soviet A100n Rocket. On technological chauvinism, see the congressional furor aroused by 

Lloyd Malian, "The Big Red Lie," a series of 

articles in True (April, May, June, July, 

]959), which alleged Soviet space claims especially M echta, to be the "biggest hoa~ in 

hist ory." House Committee on Science and 

Astronautics, 86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), Soviet 

Sj)(Zce Technology, Hearings. 

~ "Project Mercury Discussion," brochure 

for press tour of Langley Research Center, 

STG, July 7,1959,1; Maxime A. Faget and 

Robert O . Piland, "Mercury Capsule and Its 

Flight Systems," paper, Institute of the Aeronautical Sciences, New York City, Jan. 25, 

1960, 1-2; Ms., Paul E. Purser, "Project Mercury Technical History," June 12, 1963, intro., 

5-6; Faget and Walter C . Williams interviews 

Houston, Aug. 23, 1965. ' , 

:: T. Keith Glennan, "The Task of Government," in Lincoln P. Bloomfield, ed ., Outer 

Space: Prospects for Man and Society (Engle­

\\"ood Cliffs, N.]., 1962),65. For more of the 

background on engine and booster priority 

assignments, see Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 87 Cong., 2 sess. 

( 1962), Staff Report, Manned Space Flight 

Program of the National Aeronautics and Space 

Administration: Projects A1ercury, Gemini, 

and Apollo, 160-168 . 

I Letter, Hugh L. Dryden to Robert R. 

Gilruth, March 23, 1959 ; memo, Clotaire 

Wood to NASA Administrator, "Priority for 

Project Mercury," March 12, 1959, Table D . 

.0 Memo, Christopher C. Kraft to Gilruth 

"Operational Program Estimate for AFMTC,'; 

Dec. 4, 1958. 
5-59-Manned Satellite Capsules, April 10; 

1959; Senate Committee on Aeronautical and 

Spac~ Sciences, 86 Cong., I sess. (1959), 

COl'ernmental Organization for Space Activities, 42-43. For a different interpretation of 

the facts surrounding the DX priority for 

Mercury, Saturn, and the F- 1 engine, see 

House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 2 sess. (1960), Space, Missiles, 

and the Nation, 10- 12 . For details on the 

birth of the F-1 engine and the Saturn booster, 

see Saturn Illustrated Chronology, April 1957­

June 1964, Marshall Space Flight Center, Aug. 

10,1964,1-16. 

T Memos, George M . Low to J. W. Gannon, "Priority for Project Mercury," April 25, 

1959; Low to House Committee on Science 

and Astronautics, "Urgency of Project Mercury," April 27, 1959: House Committee on 

Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 1 sess. 

( 1960), 1961 NASA Authorization, 348. 

'Roy W. Johnson, quoted by John W. 

Finney, "Space Ship Model Tested in Flight," 

Nel(' York Times, March 27, 1959. On ri­

\'alry and confusion in Washington, see Drew 

Pearson, "Too Many Czars in Space Work," 

Washington Post, Feb. 9, 1959; William Hines, 

" Policies of Washington Blamed for Missile 

Lag," Washington Eve ning Star, Feb. 17,1959. 

For part of the furor over Project Argus, see 

Walter Sullivan, et aI., New York Times, 

March 19, 20, 22, 1959. See also "Roy W. 

Johnson, Early Builder of U.S. Space Program, 

Dies," New York Times, July 23, 1965 . 

" See "Questions and Answers from Bidders' 

Briefing for Manned Space Satellite," STG, 

Nov. 7, 1958, 3; letter, Sherwood L. Butler to 

R. E. Cushman, "Proposals on Requisition 

S-6- Manned Satellite Capsule," Dec . 12, 

1958. 

,0 Glcnnan, "Statement of the Administrator on the Selection of McDonnell Aircrilft 

Corporation to Design and Construct a 

Manned Satellite Capsule for Project Mercury," typescript, undated. 

It NASA Contract No. NAS 5-59, "CostPlus-A-Fixed-Fee Research and Development 

Contract for Designing and Furnishing Manned 

[sic] Satellite Capsule." This document is 

officially dated Feb. 13, 1959, the date on 

which it was approved by Glennan. For an 

elaborate 37-page report on the contract nego

l~ News release, McDonnell Aircrafts Role 

as Prime Contractor for the Mercury Spacecraft," McDonnell Aircraft Corp., April 1962. 

1:1 Ms., Stephen A. Armstrong for Project 

Mercury Technical History Program, "The 

History of Project Mercury Contracts," April 

8, 1963 ; Armstrong, interview, Houston, June 

+, 1964. 

11 Manned Satellite Proposal, Vol. I: Management Proposal; Vol. II: Technical Proposal; Vol. III: Cost Proposal, Report 6483, 

McDonnell Aircraft Corp., Dec. 4, 1958. 

l~ Prepared by L. M. Parker and approved 

by John F. Yardley, E. M. Flesh, and Albert 

Utsch of McDonnell, "Project Mercury Capsule Detail Specification," Report 6603, was 

first issued on March 12, 1959, and revised 

on April 10 and July 15, 1959. By the latter 

date McDonnell model designation "133K" 

had been assigned the Mercury ,apsuk, indicating 11 significant drawing changes so far

Cf. "Specifications for Manned Spacecraft 

Capsule," Specification No. S-6, item 2.2.1.1

STGILangley Research Center, Nov. 14, 1958

10, Low, "Status Report No. 4-Project Mercury," Jan. 12, 1959. Evidence that the earlier 

NASA capsule design continued to compete 

with the McDonnell configuration is found in 

studies of drogue parachute effectiveness in 

stabilizing the capsule at subsonic speeds. See 

memo, James S. Bowman, "Transmittal of Project Mercury Data to the Space Task Group," 

June 3, 1959. The precise shape of the "coolie 

hat" blast shield was still debated in late 1960

See letter, Purser to Walter F. Burke, "Progress 

Report on pylon jettison rockets test at NASA," 

Sept. 21, 1960. 

n Low, "Status Report No.5," Jan. 20

1959. Cf. Low, "Status Report No.3," Dec

27,1958. 

1S "Status Report No.5"; Manned Satellite 

Proposal, Vol. II: Technical Proposal, 10. 

19 Andre J. Meyer, Jr., interview, Houston

Feb. 24, 1964, and comments, Sept. 1, 1965

Ms., Meyer for Project Mercury Technical His

tory Program, "Mercury Heat Shield History," 

June 1963, regards the beryllium alternative as 

only a secondary solution from the beginning. 

~o Edison M. Fields, interview, Houston

June 18, 1964; Aleck C. Bond, interview, Hous

ton, March 13, 1964. 

n Purser, log for Gilruth, Jan. 14, 1959

Cf. "Specifications for Manned Spacecraf

543 
General Electric Co. (Missile and Space Ve

hicle Dept., Philadelphia) had found it necessary to subcontract the large-scale development 

of its design process to the B. F. Goodrich Co., 

Akron. Big Joe flew a Goodrich heatshield. 

~~ "Specification for Ablation Heat Shield," 

STG Specification No . S-19-B, April 28, 1959, 

a five-page revision by Fields of Specification 

No. S-19A, March 2, 1959. See also "Beryllium in Project Mercury," brochure, Brush 

Beryllium Co., undated rabout June 1959]. 

For the techniques of ablation shield manufacture, see "Development of Reinforced Plastic 

Materials and Fabrication Procedures for Reentry Protection Shield for Capsule, Project 

Mercury," Cincinnati Testing and Research 

Laboratory, Reports Nos. 1 and 2 (final), May 

1 and July 1, 1959. 

~3 "How Mercury Capsule Design Evolved," 

Aviation Week, LXX (Sept. 21, 1959),57. 

~~ "Project Mercury Status Report No. 1 

for Period Ending Jan. 31, 1959," STG/Langley Research Center, 2, 26. See also Ms. paper, 

Marvin S. Hochberg, "Design and Fabrication 

of the Project Mercury Astronaut Couch," an 

undated and unnumbered McDonnell Aircraft 

Corp. report received by STG June 20, 1963. 

~5 Low, "Status Report No.9-Project 

Mercury," March 21, 1959, 6. On this chart 

MA-1 stood for the flight that later became 

known as Big Joe. Hence all flights in the 

Atlas series dropped in numerical sequence; 

MA-7 became MA-6, but remained the first 

planned manned orbital flight. 

~ "Status Report on Project Mercury Development Program as of March 1, 1959," Public 

Affairs Office, Langley Research Center. 

2. Low, "Status Report No. 9-Project 

Mercury," 2, 4; W. C. Moseley, Jr., interview, 

Houston, Sept. 21, 1965. 

~s Willard S. Blanchard and Sherwood Hoffman, interview, Langley Field, Va., Jan. 6, 

1964. Cf. their formal papers on confi~uration 

studies published after 18 months' lead time as 

TN D-223, "Effects of Nose Cone Radii, 

Afterbody Section Deflections, and a Drogue 

Chute on Subsonic Motions of Manned-Satellite Models in Reentry Configuration," March 

1960; and as TM X-351, "Full-Scale Fligh t 

Test of a Proposed Abort-Escape System for a 

Manned Space Capsule from Sea Level," Aug. 

1960; also Blanchard and James R. Raper, 

544 

tion Week, which featured his picture on the 

cover of its April 1959 issue. Alternative modifications of the escape rocket system were being 

tested by Herbert G. Patterson using Y4 -scale 

boilerplate capsule-pylon systems in beach abort 

launches from Wallops Island. 

20 For a resume of these activi tics at Langley, 

see memo, Carl A. Sandahl to Assoc. Dir., 

"Langley Presentation to the Space Task 

Group," May 19, 1959. Cf. memo, Abe Silverstein to Dir., Aeronautical and Space Research, 

"Langley and Ames Research Center Support 

for Project Mercury," March 6, 1959, with 

two enclosures. See also memo, Lloyd J. 

Fisher to Assoc. Dir., "Flotation Investigations 

in Support of Project Mercury," May 12, 1959. 

30 Albin O. Pearson, interview, Langley 

Field, Va., Jan. 7, 1964; memo, Pearson to 

Assoc. Dir., "Visit of NASA Personnel to 

Arnold Engineering Development Center, Tullahoma, Tenn.," March 5, 1959; memo, Moseley for files, "Summary of Project Mercury 

Wind Tunnel Program," Aug. 26, 1960. See 

also Marvin E. Hintz, A Chronology 0/ the 

Arnold Engineering Development Center, Air 

Force Systems Command Historical Publication Series 62-101, June 30, 1963, 62. 

31 "Pilot Support System Development (Live 

Specimen Experiment) ," Report 6875, McDonnell Aircraft Corp., June 1959. Cf. "Test 

Results Memorandum," McDonnell Aircraft 

Corp., June 9, 1959. John H. Glenn, interview, Houston, Aug. 3, 1964; memo, Wilbur E. 

Thompson to Chief, Flight Systems Div., 

"Status of Impact Test Program," June 9, 1959. 

~2 Letter, Gilruth to Commanding Officer, 

Wright Air Development Center, March 26, 

1959; Low, "Status Report No. 11," April 6, 

1959. Cf. "Project Mercury Status Report No. 

2 for Period Ending April 30, 1959," STG/ 

Langley Research Center. On the history of 

parachute development for Mercury, see Joe \-V. 

Dodson, transcript of a taped discussion with 

Donald C. Cole, "Mercury Parachute History," 

September 1962. 

33 William C. Muhly, interview, Houston, 

Aug. 9, 1965; see also Muhly's draft Ms., 

"Planning and Scheduling," May 28, 1963, for 

the Mercury Technical History. Regarding 

STG's first plans for astronaut pickup, see 

STG, "Recovery Operations for Project Mercury," March 20, 1959. 
oped well enough to abandon the idea for a 

while. But reconsiderations of dry landing 

from an abort at the Cape or nearing Africa 

led Gerard Pesman, Faget, and Donlan to reinstate the pneumatic impact bag development 

late in 1960. Pesman, interview, Houston, Aug. 

16, 1965. 

3" E. Nelson Hayes, "The Smithsonian's Satelli te-Tracking Program: I ts History and Organization," Parts I and II, Publications 4482 

and 4574, respectively (Washington, 1962­

1964), I, 318. 

38 Letter, J. W. Crowley to F. L. Thompson, 

"Request that LRC Assume Responsibility for 

Project Mercury Instrumentation Facilities," 

Feb. 20, 1959, with enclosure (Silverstein to 

Crowley, Feb. 16, 1959) ; Charles W. Mathews, 

interview, Houston, Sept. 23, 1965; and Low, 

comments, Oct. 5, 1965. 

37 Hartley A. Soule, interview, Hampton, 

Va., Jan. 7, 1964. Soule retired in 1962 to 

write histories of Langley and of the Mercury 

tracking network. Cf. memo, Soule to Assoc. 

Dir., "Questions Concerning the Project 

Mercury Range ...," April 13, 1959. 

as G. Barry Graves, interview, Houston, 

Feb. 17, 1964. Cf. memo, Graves to Gilruth, 

"Progress on Range for Project Mercury ... ," 

Feb. 13, 1959. 

30 Letter, Henry J. E. Reid to Silverstein, 

April 27, 1959, with enclosure (Soule, "Tentative Plan for Operation of Range for Project 

Mercury"). Cf. earlier plans in letter, Reid 

to Crowley, March 9, 1959. 

40 "Project Mercury Crew Station Description," Report 6710, McDonnell Aircraft Corp., 

March 16, 1959; "Model 133 Mockup Review 

Pictures," Report 6732, McDonnell Aircraft 

Corp., March 18, 1959. It is perhaps significant that a large sign behind the mockup in 

the McDonnell factory said, "When a change 

is not necessary, it is necessary not to change." 

41 Minutes, "Model 133 Mockup Review," 

McDonnell Aircraft Corp., March 18, 1959. 

4~ Memos, Gilruth to STG/Langley Research Center, "Coordination of Meetings of 

Study Panels . . . ," March 20, 1959; and 

"Establishment of Capsule Coordination Office 

and Review Board," June 19, 1959; John H. 

Disher, interview, Washington, Sept. 2, 1965. 

For an overview of the nature and scope of 

Project Mercury as seen by STG at this time, 

see memo for files [and distribution among 

Technical History Program, Organization, 

June 3, 1963, 5, 14. See also STG/Langley, 

"Status Report No.2." 

H Senator Stuart Symington's remark is in 

Governmental Organization for Space Activities, 28. Cf. House Committee on Appropriations, 86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), National 

Aeronautics and SPace Administration Appropriations, Hearings, testimony of Hugh L. 

Dryden, 9. Faget recalled in interview the 

"family joke" of the symbols: NA¢A ~ 

NA$A. 

4:> Memo, MacDougall to Project Manager, 

"Estimated Cost of Manned Space Capsule 

Contract," Dec. 15, 1958; MacDougall, interview, Feb. 5, 1965. 

4°Silverstein, marginal notes on memo, Low 

to Dir. for Space Flight Development, March 

12, 1959; MacDougall, interview, Sept. 13, 

1965. 

41 Memo for files, Meyer, "Visit of McDonnell Representatives to Discuss Spare Parts and 

Ground Support Equipment," March 10, 1959. 

See also Ms., G. F. Bailey and S. A. Armstrong 

for Project Mercury Technical History Program, "Outline of the History of the Mercury 

Contract," April 8, 1963. 

48 Low, "Status Report No.8-Project 

Mercury," March 4, 1959. Cf. Low, "Status 

Report No.4." The extent of redesign work 

to "man-rate" the Atlas was more quickly 

recognized by its fabricators than by its new 

customers; Williams interview. 

40 Memo, Purser to Gilruth, "Analysis of 

Army Ordnance Missile Command Revised 

Funding Estimate for Redstones and Jupiters," 

June 5, 1959. 

GO Letter, Glennan to Neil H. McElroy, July 

14, 1959. Administrator Glennan began to 

keep a desk diary in December 1958 [not 

available to this au thor 1, which carefully noted 

each day's transactions thereafter. 

:;1 Low, "Status Report No. 14-Project 

Mercury," May 22, 1959. De Marquis Wyatt, 

interview, Washington, Sept. 1, 1965; Bond 

interview. 

;;~ Ms., William M. Bland, Jr., for Project 

Mercury Technical History Program, "The 

Birth of Little Joe Booster"; memo for files, 

Charles H. McFall, Jr., "Project Little Joe: 

Ground Instrumentation Required," April 15, 

1959. 

:;3 Memo for files, Sandahl, "Progress on 

545 
51 

to Which PARD Rocket Firings Might Contribute Information at an Early Date," Feb. 24, 

1959. William E. Stoney, interview, Houston, 

Feb. 13, 1964. For Scout's capabilities, see 

"Considerations Affecting Satellite and Space 

Probe Research with Emphasis on the 'Scout' 

as a Launch Vehicle," NASA Technical Report 

R-97, Washington, 1961. 

wPurser log, Jan. 12,1959. Cf. NASA 

Appropriations, Hearings, testimony of Dryden, 

83-115. Wesley L. Hjornevik, interview, 

Houston, Feb. 17, 1964. 

56 "Canadian Personnel Chart: Du ty Assignments, Need to Know, Travel Requirements," STG, April 1959; Purser, log for 

Gilruth, April 21, 1959. Bringing fresh insight 

and seasoned experience to aid STG, this group 

included two, John D. Hodge and Jack Cohen, 

of rank equivalent to civil-service rating 

GS-14. Several more Anglo-Canadian engineers later joined STG. 

Purser, log for Gilruth, April 27, 1959. 

See also documents signed by Glennan, Silverstein, and T. E. Jenkins, Administrative Officer 

of Goddard Space Flight Center, published as 

Exhibits 10, 11, and 12 of Appendix D in 

Alfred Rosenthal, The Early Years: Goddard 

Space Flight Center, Historical Origins and 

Activities through December 1962 (Washington, 1964), 35. 

58 Glennan, interview with Eugene M. 

Emme, Cleveland, April 6, 1965; Purser, log 

for Gilruth, May 20, 1959. 

GD House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), Basic Scientific and Astronautic Research in the Department of Defense, testimony of Dr. Herbert F. 

York, June 4, 1959, 16; B. Porter Brown, interview, Cape Kennedy, April 30, 1964. 

GO Francis E. Jarrett, Jr., and Robert A. 

Lindemann, "Historical Origins of NASA's 

Launch Operations Center to July 1, 1962," 

Kennedy Space Center, Historical Monograph 

No.1 (KHM-1), Oct. 1964. There is a dispute over proper nomenclature regarding the 

combination of launch complexes 5 and 6 into 

"No. 56." If the latter is a misnomer, it was 

so commonly used as to justify its use throughout this work. 

G1 Memo for files, Emil P. Bertram, "NASA 

Space Requirements at MFL," April 7, 1959. 

For an account of the ill-fated Vega vehicle, 

by NRL for Project Vanguard in the face o

earlier housing shortages for checkout facilitie

63 Purser, logs for Gilruth, June 15 and 2

1959. 

GI Ashton Graybiel, et al., "An Account o

Experiments in Which Two Monkeys Wer

Recovered Unharmed After Ballistic Spac

Flight," Aerospace Medicine, XXX (De

1959), 871-931. Cf. Siegfried ]. Gerathe

wohl, Principles of Bioastronautics (Englewoo

Cliffs, N.]., 1963), 100-108. NASA pre

releases on primate flights always carried no

tice oi the birthplaces of the subjects to avoi

offending Hindus, who believe in transmigra

tion of souls. Presumably 100 percent Amer

can monkeys were always 100 percent Amer

can. See also p. 53. 

G5 Gilruth, speech, Space Age Conferenc

World Congress of Flight, Las Vegas, April 1

1959. 

GO "Project Mercury Discussion," 50-pag

collection of graphic charts and outlines, STG

May 18, 1959, 1. 

G1 Memo, Warren ]. North to Administra

tor, "Background of Project Mercury Sched

ules," wi th enclosure, Aug. 14, 1960. 

08 It seems fi tting to note here the Air Forc

viewpoint on this period. Max Rosenberg

Chief, USAF Historical Division Liaison Offic

has commented as follows on this section (Oc

8, 1965): "Within these pages is the stor

of the major crux of program slippages, whic

seems not to be recognized. There is detaile

listing of each agency's role but no recognitio

that no one was in charge of total system 

analysis, total system design, total system en

gineering, total system technical direction

This was one of the features of the Air Forc

ballistic missile program wherein Ramo-Woo

dridge functioned as the systems engineerin

and technical director. The lack of such a

agency within the Mercury program was un

derstandable, for NASA was without exper

ence in undertakings of such scope an

magnitude, but it should be recognized an

recorded historically as an expensive 'lesso

learned' that cost NASA (and the Unite

States) perhaps a year or more in meeting th

Mercury goals." P. 13. 

00 "Project Mercury Discussions," 22-25

Cf. "Main Results of NASA-McDonnell

546 

71 

ABMA, Feb. 17,1959. 

70 See transcript of press conference, " Introduction of the Astronauts," April 9, 1959; 

NASA news releases 59-111, April 7, and 

59-113, April 9, 1959; and memo for the 

record, Allen O. Gamble, "News Story Concerning Astronaut Selection," Feb. 2, 1962. 

The "Project Mercury Information 

Plan," issued in June 1959 at NASA Headquarters, gave overall responsibility for information activities to Walter T. Bonney, Director, Office of Public Information, NASA. 

The significant decision to divide "official 

duties" from "personal stories" was made in 

Washington with the promulgation of "NASA 

Policy Concerning Mercury Astronauts," May 

11, 1959. Sec also Walter T. Bonney, comments, Dec . 1, 1965. 

7~ The distinction between senior pilots and 

professional test pilots took a quantum leap 

after 1953 with the introduction of "century 

series" aircraft. Donald K . Slayton, interview, 

Dec. 16,1964. Cf. John Dille, ed., We Seven, 

by the Astronauts Themselves (New York, 

York, 1962),70. 

73 For criteria, see p . 131. For the best 

overview of selection philosophy and program 

arrangements see Ms., Robert B. Voas, "Preliminary Draft of Astronaut Selection Section, 

Mercury Technical History," Aug. 28, 1963. 

Cf. Stanley C. White, interview, San Antonio, 

Aug. 20, 1965, and Donlan, comments, Sept. 

3, 1965. 

71 Low, " Status Report No. 7-Project 

Mercury," Feb. 17, 1959. Cf. Lo\-\', "Status 

Report No.6," Feb. 3, 1959. 

7:; See David H. Beyer and Saul B. Sells, 

"Selection and Training of Personnel for Space 

Flight," Journal of Aviation Medicine, 

XXVIII (Feb. 1957), 1-6. On the Lovelace 

Clinic as a parallel institution to Mayo Clinic, 

see brochure, "Lovelace Foundation for Medical Education and Research" (Albuquerque, 

undated [abou t 1958] ). 

7,; Letter, A. H. Schwichtenberg, Head, 

Aerospace Medical Dept., Lovelace Foundation, to Charles]. Donlan, Nov. 5, 1959. 

77 Voas, "Astronaut Selection," 26. See 

also Mae M. Link, Space Medicine in Project 

:VIercury, NASA SP-4003 (Washington, 

1965), Chapter V, "Medical Aspects of Astronaut Selection and Training," 44-59. 

:s Charles L. Wilson, ed., "Project Mer

to Donlan, Summary of Psychological Testing of Candidates for Project Mercury," 

undated. 

79 Quoted in letter, Donlan to NASA Hq., 

Dec. 16, 1960. 

&l George E. Ruff, "Medical Criteria in 

Space Crew Selection," 108th annual meeting, 

American Medical Assn., Atlantic City, June 9, 

1959. Donlan, interview, Langley Field, Va., 

Jan. 7, 1964, and comments, Sept. 3, 1965. 

Stanley White vigorously disagreed with this 

assessment, saying that medical and psychological interviews "were equally important." 

White interview. 

~l NASA/MSC news release, "Biography of 

John A. Powers, " Jan. 1963. Cf. memo, 

Powers to Project Director, "Project Mercury 

Public Affairs Officer," June 9, 1959, which 

encloses the initial public relations plan for 

STG. 

~~ House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong., I sess. (1959), Meeting 

with the Astronauts (Project M ercury-Manin-Space Program) , May 28, 1959, passim. 

See also "How to Get a Man Up into Space 

and Back Again," and "Space Voyagers Rarin' 

to Orbit," Life, XLVI, April 20, 1959. 

~3 Quoted but unidentified in George E. 

Ruff and Edwin Z. Levy, "Psychiatric Evaluation of Candidates for Space Flight," American 

Journal of Psychiatry, CXVI (Nov. 1959) , 

391. For the philosophers, see T he Basic 

Writings of Bertrand Russell, 1903-1959, 

edited by Robert E. Egner and Lester E. 

Denoun (New York, 1961 ), 15, 565-576; 

Teilhard de Chardin, The Phenomenon of 

Man (New York, 1959), 250, 286, and 

passim; Walter Kaufmann, Critique of Religion and Philosophy (Garden City, N.Y., 

1961),429. 

~< This ends an interesting prose poem by 

David Greenfield entitled "Which Way Is 

Heaven?" that appeared in Saturday Review, 

XLII (July 4, 1959), 39, reflecting a significant popular shift in perspective related to the 

announcement of the astronauts' selection. 

Greenfield wrote, "Heaven has always existed 

in the mind of man as the abode of spiritual 

beings and the ultimate destination of believers. 

Its location has always been 'up'. . .. And 

now at last man is about to ascend physically 

into this heaven. . . Will his spiritual outlook be changed by a shock of disillusion? . .." 

547 
ing and production, this chapter and the next 

make the conventional yet conceptually useful distinction between mechanical and human 

(factors) engineering endeavors. Another important distinction, that which rated pilot 

safety first and mission success second, was implicit from the start, but became explicit in the 

production programs only after many technical arguments and much rethinking. The 

process of man-rating the machines is meant to 

suggest all the efforts made to perfect a completely automatic system for Earth-orbital 

flight. The reciprocal process of machinerating men is meant to focus on the ambiguities 

in the idea of perfecting a completely automated system for such purposes. Chronologically this division coincides with the major, but 

by no means singular, concern of those responsible for the execution of Project Mercury 

during the year of development between the 

summers of 1959 and 1960. 

2 House Select Committee on Astronautics 

and Space Exploration, 86 Cong., 1 sess. 

(1959), The Next Ten Years in Space, 1959­

1969, report by T. Keith Glennan, Hugh L. 

Dryden, Abe Silverstein, John P. Hagen, and 

Homer E. Newell, Jr., 120. 

3 Obituary for 'Paul D. Taylor, Airscoop, 

Langley Research Center, May 15, 1959. Regarding overtime, see Ms., Paul E. Purser, 

"Discussion of Project Mercury History and 

Schedules," Aug. 1960. 

4 "Complement Analysis," STG, Appendix 

C of confidential staff study, July 10, 1959, 

C-10. 

G See James M . Grimwood, Project Mercury: A Chronology, NASA SP-4001 (Washington, 1963), 215. Cf. memos, Robert R. 

Gilruth to staff, "Appointment of Associate Directors," Sept. 15, 1959; and "Organization of 

Space Task Group," Aug. 10, 1959. 

o For most of the preliminary operational 

planning, see the appendices and annexes to 

Ms., "Overall Plan: Department of Defense 

Support for Project Mercury," undated [ca. 

Sept. 1959]. See also DOD Representative 

for Project Mercury Support Operations, Final 

Report to the Secretary of Defense on Department of Defense Support of Project Mercury: 

For the Period 1 July 1959 through 13 June 

1963; approved by Leighton I. Davis, Maj. 

Gen., USAF, 11 Sept. 1963. The major ex548 

7 Maxime A. Faget recalls Walter C. Wi

liams' being adamantly opposed to vertica

manned rocket launches in 1957, but by mid

1958 Williams was supporting the Langle

plans on the joint NACA-Advanced Researc

Projects Agency panel. Faget, interview

Houston, Aug. 4, 1964, and Williams, Aug. 23

1965. See also memo, Gilruth for staff, "Ap

pointment of Associate Directors," Sept. 15

1959. 

8 Joachim P. Kuettner, "Manrating Spac

Carrier Vehicles," in Ernst Stuhlinger et al

eds., From Peenemunde to Outer Space: Com

memorating the Fiftieth Birthday of Wernhe

von Braun (Huntsville, Ala., 1962), 629-630

See also "Biographic Sketch: Dr. Joachim P

Kuettner," Marshall Space Flight Center, Ma

1, 1963; Kuettner, interview, Huntsville, Apri

28, 1964. 

9 Memo, Kuettner to "all labs," Develop

ment Operations Division, Army Ballistic Mis

sile Agency, "Mercury-Adam Project," Jan. 14

1959; Kuettner, "Mercury Project," draf

status report, May 21, 1959. Cf. typescrip

prospectus, Kuettner, "ABMA's Participatio

in the Mercury Project," undated [about Aug

1959]. See also memo, A. Richard Felix t

Dir., Aeroballistics Lab., "Visit to NASA

Langley Concerning Future Wind Tunnel Test

of the Jupiter-C Boosted Manned Space Cap

sule," Jan. 15, 1959; and Mack W. Shettles

"Status Report-Project Mercury," ABMA re

port No. DFE-IN-09-59, Feb. 13, 1959. Cf

memo, Dieter Grau to "M-G&C-DIR," "Un

satisfactory Condition on MR Abort Sensin

System," Oct. 11, 1960. 

10 F. W. Brandner, "Proposal for Mercury

Redstone Automatic Inflight Abort Sensin

System," Army Ballistic Missile Agency repor

No. DG-TR-7-59, Redstone Arsenal, June 5

1959, 1. 

11 See, for example, letter, James D. Sams t

CO, ABMA, "Project Mercury-Redstone De

lineation of Responsibility," Oct. 8, 1959

memo, C. J. Kronauer, to Capt ( ?) Hornbaker

"Project Mercury Schedule Notification,

Oct. 12, 1959; Debus to Kuettner, "NASA

ABMA-AFMTC Project Mercury Operatin

Agreement," Nov. 9, 1959; letter, Gen. John B

Medaris to Yates, Dec. 10, 1959; Yates t

Medaris, Dec. 21, 1959. 

12 Brig. Gen. Homer A. Boushey in Th
)p

nounced by at least one independent engineer, 

viewing the man-in-space program in the October issue of the trade journal Automatic Con·, 

trol. For reprint, see George K. Arthur, "Why 

Man in Space ?-An Engineer's View," in 

Richard M. Skinner and William Leavitt, eds., 

Speaking of Space: The Best from Space Digest (Boston, 1962), 142. 

H Bernhard A. Hohmann, interviews, El Segundo, Calif., Aug. 25, 1964, and Houston, 

Sept. 16, 1965; E. B. Doll, telephonic interview, 

El Segundo, Aug. 25, 1964; D. R. White, interview, Houston, Aug. 10, 1964. For an overview of the business evolution from Thompson 

Ramo Wooldridge into Space Technology Laboratories and Aerospace Corporation see 

Robert Sheehan, "Thompson Ramo Wooldridge: Two Wings in Space," Fortune, LXVII 

(Feb. 1963),95-99,139-146. See also House 

Committee on Government Operations, 87 

Cong., 1 sess., Air Force Ballistic Missile Management (Format/on of Aerospace Corporation), report No. 324, May I, 1961. 

15 See [Henry B. Kucheman, Jr.] "Reference 

File, AFBMD Support, Project Mercury," 

bound folder of documents, Air Force Space 

Systems Div., El Segundo, Calif., Jan. 4, 1961; 

Frank Wendzel and R. W. Keehn, interviews, 

San Diego, Calif., Aug. 28, 1964. For a description of advances in manufacturing techniques, see Richard Sweeny, "Atlas Generates 

Fabrication Advances," Aviation Week, LXXII 

(Jan. 4, 1960), 38-49. For an overview of 

the actors within the BMD-STL-GD/A complex, see transcript, "Proceedings of the Mercury-Atlas Booster Reliability Workshop," 

GD/A, San Diego, Calif., July 12, 1963, passim. 

10 White interview; Philip E. Culbertson, 

comments, Aug. 16, 1965. Cf. Convair/Astronautics Report No. AZM-27-321, "Test Equipment for Abort Sensing and Implementation 

System for Mercury Atlas Flight," July 17, 

1959. 

17 Donald K. Slayton, speech, annual meeting, Soc. of Experimental Test Pilots, Los Angeles, Oct. 9, 1959. 

19 Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., "A Review of 

Knowledge Acquired from the first Manned 

Satellite Program," MSC fact sheet No. 206, 1. 

ID John P. Mayer and Carl R. Huss, "Trajectory Analysis," in Mercury Project Summary, 

I ncluding Results of the Fourth Manned Or

gg( )

20 Paul A. Campbell, "Man in SpaceWhere We Stand," Air Force and Space Digest, 

(July 1959), reprinted as Part 3 of Appendix 

B in Senate Committee on Aeronautical and 

Space Sciences, 86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), report No. 1014, Project Mercury: Man-in-Space 

Program of the National Aeronautics and Space 

Administration. Cf. Siegfried J. Gerathewohl 

and George R. Steinkamp, "Human Factors 

Requirements for Putting a Man in Space," 

paper, ninth International Astro,nautical Congress, Amsterdam, Aug. 1958. 

21 Perhaps the classic basic text for the 

modern revival of efficiency expertise was dedicated, both formally and in a limited sense 

financially, to Glennan by the authors, all professors in the operations research group at Case 

Institute of Technology since 1952: C. West 

Churchman, Russell L. Ackoff, and E. Leonard 

Arnoff, Introduction to Operations Research 

(New York, 1957). See also Maurice Sasieni, 

Arthur Yaspan, and Lawrence Friedman, Operations Research-Methods and Problems (New 

York, 1957); James H. Batchelor, Operations 

Research: An Annotated Bibliography (2 ed., 

St. Louis, 1959-1963), Vols. I, II, III, and IV. 

23 S. E. Skinner, Executive Vice Pres., General Motors Corp., "Quality and Reliability 

Control," speech, first General Motors-wide 

orientation program, July 23, 1959. For a description of the Atlas reliability problem, see 

Robert De Roos, "Perspective '64," booklet 

(General Dynamics/Astronautics, 1964). 

23 See Joan R. Rosenblatt, "On Prediction 

of System Performance from Informatioll on 

Component Performance," Proceedings of the 

Western Joint Computer Conference, Los 

Angeles, Feb. 1957. Cf. Nicholas E. Golovin, "An Approach to Reliability Prediction 

Program," American Society for Quality Control, Transactions of 1960 Convention, San 

Francisco, May 25, 1960. 

2t Thomas C. Reeves, "Reliability Prediction-Its Validity and Application as a Design 

Tool," paper No. 60-MD-1, American Soc. 

of Mechanical Engineers, Feb. 10, 1960, 8. 

25 George M. Low, in comments, Oct. 5, 

1965, notes that these discussions "occurred 

not between Washington and the Field but between the organization responsible for manned 

space flight both in Washington and the Field 

and the Reliability people." 

549 
Jupte, ad Juo,ugee . e, ed ., 

The Histor)' 0/ Rock et Technolog),: Essa)'s on 

Research, De ve lopment, and Utility (Detroit, 

1964 ), 107- 121 : Kuettner interview. On the 

little known Redstone booster recovery system 

development efforts, see R. 1. Johnson et aI., 

"The Mercury-Redstone Project," MSFC 

Saturn/ Apollo Systems Office, TMX 53107, 

June 1964, 6-22, 6-29 ; letter, Gilruth to von 

Braun, with enclosures, Dec. 9, 1959; memo, 

R. M . Barraza for M-DEP-R&D, MSFC, 

" Summary of Mercury-Redstone Recovery 

Program," Aug. 1, 1960. 

~8 For details of Redstone and Jupiter flight 

failures, seC' three reports prepared by Chrysler 

Missile Division for MSFC, "Overall Study 

and Flight Evaluation of the Redstone Missile 

Propulsion and Associated Systems," MSFC 

report No. RP- TR- 61-11, April 7,1961; G. G . 

McDonald, P. R. Br·own, and j. L. Montgomery, Jr., "Jupiter Missile and Juno II 

Vehide Malfunrtion Study," MSFC report No . 

MTP-M- P&VE-P-2- 62, April 26, 1962 ; and 

P. S. Sorce, L. Van Camp, R. E. Stevens, et aI. , 

"Redstone Vehicle Malfunction Study (MerC'ury-Redstone Program ) ," MSFC report No . 

DSD-TM- 12- 60, Original Issue, June 15, 

1960; Rev. A, Oct. 31, 1960, Rev. B, May 1, 

1961. 

~a Joachim P. Kuettner and Emil Bertram, 

"Mercury-Redstone Launch Vehicle Development and Performance," in Mercury Project 

Summar)', 69. See also Brandner, "Proposal 

for Abort Sensing System," 4, 5. For STG's 

first reliability meeting with ABMA, see Purser, 

log for Gilruth , July 27, 1959 . On Chrysler's 

role, see two brochures, "Redstone," AB 106, 

Chrysler Missile Division [ca. April 1961], and 

"Presentation to Manned Spacecraft Center," 

Chrysler Defense and Space Group, June 20, 

1962. 

30 "Project Mercury Indoctrination," report 

No. 6821, McDonnell Aircraft Corp., May 21, 

1959, 160. 

31 "Reliability Program Status for Project 

Mercury," report No. 7007, McDonnell Aircraft Corp., Aug. 17, 1959, 1, 11, 12. 

~~ Tecwyn Roberts, "Minutes of Meeting: 

Presentation by AFBMD/ STL on Safety and 

Reliability," Nov. 13, 1959, with enclosures. 

Powell's chart is enclosure 2. Cf. John C. 

French and Frederick j. Bailey, Jr., "Reliability 

550 

gp

reliability dispute between "statistics," rep

resented by Golovin and NASA Headquarter

and "techniques," represented by STG, Mc

Donnell, and ABMA, was illustrated by th

basic commitment among STG engineers t

deny the existence of any such thing as "

random failure." Gilruth later expressed th

particular attitude toward man-rating ma

chines: "We must regard every malfunctio

and, in fact, every observed peculiarity in th

behavior of a system as an important warnin

of potential disaster. Only when the cause 

thoroughly understood, and a change to elim

inate it has been made, can we proceed wit

the Aight program. " See Gilruth, "MSC View

points on Reliability and Quality Control

MSC fact sheet No. 93, 1963. 

::1 See Purser, log for Gilruth, Aug. 5, 1959

:~. Charles W. Mathews, interview, Hous

ton, Feb. 24, 1964. Cf. memo, William M

Bland, Jr., and Kraft to Project Dir., "Meetin

with Range Safety People at AFMTC, Marc

31, 1959," April 3, 1959. 

~G Ms., Mathews, "Mercury Abort Sensin

and Implementation Systems: History of De

velopment," outline for Project Mercury Tech

nical History Program, July 1, 1963; Kuettne

and Bertram, "Mercury-Redstone Launch Ve

hicle," 72 ; Kuettner, "Manrating Space Car

rier Vehicles," 636. 

~7 Compare the detail and progress ev

denced in "Status Report No. 3 for Perio

Ending July 31, 1959," Langley/ STG, wit

that shown in "Status Report No.4 for Perio

Ending Oct. 31, 1959," Langley/ STG. 

:;s Letter, GiJruth to Commanding Office

Army Ballistic Missile Agency, "Mercury-Red

stone Launch Schedule," Aug. 25, 1959. C

memo, Purser to Project Dir., "Project Mer

cury Meeting on 11 February, 1959, a

ABMA," with enclosed bar chart. See C

Northcote Parkinson, Parkinson's Law (Ne

York, 1959). 

30 Perhaps the most eloquent defense Wernhe

von Braun ever made against the inevitabl

shallow cynicism of critics who could not for

get the Second World War was a widely printe

anicle entitled "The Acid Test," which fir

appeared 'in Space Journal of the Astra-Sc

ences, Vol. 1, No.3 (Summer 1958),31-36

For background on the following discussion o
the Mercury-Jupiter cancellation, see letter, 

John G . Zierdt to NASA Administrator, June 

26, 1959; memos, Low to Silverstein, "Cancellation of Mercury-Jupiter Program," July 8 and 

July 13, 1959; message, Zierdt to Silverstein, 

July 16, 1959; letters, Silverstein to Medaris, 

Commanding Officer, Army Ordnance Missile 

Command, July 21 and July 28, 1959; letter, 

Herbert F. York to Glennan, Aug. 4,1959; letter, David H. Newby to Low, Aug. 19, 1959. 

See also letters, Gilruth to Low, July 1, 1959; 

Silverstein to Gilruth, July 1, 1959; and Gilruth to Silverstein, July 8, 1959. Memo for 

files, John A. Powers, "Response to Query on 

the Subject of Cancellation of Jupiter," Aug. 

31, 1959. 

41 George Savignac and E. G . Leever, "Project Mercury Engineering Status Report," McDonnell Aircraft Corp., Aug. 1, 1959, 31; 

Savignac and Leever, "Bi-Monthly Engineering 

Status Report," McDonnell Aircraft Corp., 

Oct. 1, 1959, 39. 

42 Minutes, "Mercury Panel 3 Meeting, 18­

19 August, 1959, at Missile Firing Laboratory, 

Cape Canaveral, Florida." These minutes record numerous bilateral agreements on flight 

testing, range safety, etc., concurred in by 

NASA, McDonnell, and Army Ballistic Missile 

Agency representatives. See especially Part 

IV, an appendix on operational checkout procedures. Kuettner, "Minutes and Major Results of Project Mercury Coordination Meeting at ABMA," Nov. 20, 1959. Cf. minutes, 

Jerome B. Hammack, Redstone systems engineer, STG, "Mercury-Redstone Panel II 

Meeting: Booster and Capsule Checkout Procedures, at ABMA, Nov. 19, 1959," Dec. 8, 

1959; message, M. L. Raines to Commanding 

General, AOMC, Nov. 3, 1959; reply,PR092200Z, Nov. 9, 1959. 

43 See House Committee on Science and 

Astronautics, 86 Cong., 2 sess. (1960), Transfer of the Development Operations Division of 

the Army Ballistic Missile Agency to the National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 

Hearings, Feb. 3, 1960; Robert L. Rosholt, 

An Administrative History of NASA, 1950 to 

1963; David S. Akens, Paul K. Freiwirth, and 

Helen T. Wells, History of the George C. 

Marshall Space Flight Center (Huntsville, 

Ala., 1960-1962), I, ix. 

H White, "Development of the Mercury

Cf. "System Description-Abort Sensing and 

rmplementation System for Project Mercury," 

Convair/ Astronautics report No. AE60-0576, 

June 6, 1960. 

I'. Sec C. L. Gandy and I. B. Hanson, 

"Mercury-.'\tlas Launch Vehicle Development 

and Performance," in Afercury Project Summary, 94. James R. Dempsey, a vice president 

of General Dynamics and the manager of its 

Convair division, later called attention to the 

23 percent design safety factor commonly used 

in the ballistic missile business versus the 1.5 

safety margin used in the design of aircraft. 

See his paper "Launch-Vehicle Considerations 

for Manned Space Flight," in Proceedings of 

First National Conference on the Peaceful Uses 

of Space, Tulsa, Oklahoma, May 26-27, 1961 

(Washington, 1961),118. 

", P. E. Culbertson, "Man-Rating the Atlas 

as a Mercury Booster," American Institute of 

Aeronautics and Astronautics, paper No. 65­

252, presented at Dayton, Ohio, April 21-23, 

1965,2,7. 

17 Hohmann interviews and article, "Pilot 

Safety and Mercury/Atlas," Astronautics and 

Aerospace Engineering (Feb. 1963), 40-42. 

I~ Minutes, "Mock-Up Review," 12 through 

14 May, 1959, with enclosure addressed to 

C. H. Zimmerman and Low, June 23, 1959. 

'" Faget interviews; John F. Yardley, intervie\\', St. Louis, Aug. 31, 1964; and MAC 

"Biographical Information" on Yardley, June 

10, 1964. Until the redesignation of STG as 

MSC on Nov. 1, 1961, and the reorganization 

of MSC into the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo 

Project Offices on Jan. 15, 1962, systems engineering in STC was shared by the Flight 

Systems Division and the Engineering Division 

under Faget and James A. Chamberlin, respectively. See Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 

219-220. 

;;0 McDonnell Aircraft Corporation, "Twentieth Annual Report," June 30, 1959, foreword . Cf. "McDonnell Aircraft Corporation, 

Nineteenth Annual Report, 1958." "Achievements, 1939-1956," "Orientation Manual, 

1960-61," 7, and "McDonnell: The First 

Twenty-Five Years, 1939-1964," 18-28, brochures, McDonnell Aircraft Corp. 

01 Memo, Logan T. MacMillan to D. S. 

Lewis, "Project Mercury Daily Report, 18 

July 1959-Coordination Committee Results," 

551 
terview, St. Louis, Aug. 31, 1964. 

~2 Kendall Perkins, interview, St. Louis, 

Aug. 31, 1964. 

G3 William Dubusker, interview, St. Louis, 

Sept. 1, 1964; Flesh, interview, St. Louis, Sept. 

2, 1964. For a more detailed description of 

fabricating technique and fusion welding, see 

David S. Anderton, "How Mercury Capsule 

Design Evolved," Aviation Week, LXXIV 

(May 22,1961). 

;;1 Regarding the Slayton-Carpenter dispute 

over the best kind of pilot control system, see 

John Dille, ed., We Seven) by the Astronauts 

Themselves (New York, 1962), 15. Memo, 

D. P. Murray, MAC Manager of Contracts, to 

Project Mercury, Engineering and Contract 

Administration Division, "Mercury Capsule 

Contract NAS5-59, Contract Change Proposals Nos. 58-1, 61-2, 73 and 76," Sept. 23, 

1959. 

G;; Edward R. Jones, interview, St. Louis, 

Sept. 2, 1964. Jones had earned his doctorate 

in experimental psychology from Washington 

University in St. Louis, in 1954, and since the 

first of the decade he had worked in flight 

safety research. 

GO Minutes, "MAC Project Mercury-Human Factors; Phase A2, Mission Analysis and 

Preliminary Cockpit Layout," manuscript 

minutes of oral report by Minneapolis-Honeywell human factors group to McDonnell, 

March 2,1959,3. 

G7 Memo, Jones to Yardley, "Failure Analysis," with enclosure, David T. Grober and 

Jones, "Human Engineering Implications of 

Failures in the Mercury Capsule," Aug. 10, 

1959. These two quotations are from pp. 2, 

4, and 5. 

:;s Jones, "Man's Integration into the Mercury Capsule," paper, 14th annual meeting, 

American Rocket Soc., Washington, Nov. 

16-19, 1959, 1,2. 

;;0 The input of sense data into the ASCS 

and its output of nervous commands suggests 

the classic cybernetic approach t!() understanding th~ Mercury attitude control system. Consider the machine as if it were an organism 

in which sensors (like small rate gyros, larger 

position gyros, and infrared sensitive horizon 

scanners) provide the brain (ASCS) with the 

data it needs to compute through its amplifier552 

bothered at first to produce "glass boxes" f

operating engineers to determine how to bui

work, and improve them. For a helpful intr

duction to the intricacies of modern gyroscope

accelerometers, and inertial guidance system

see "Inertial Guidance Primer," pamphl

Minneapolis-Honeywell Regulator Compan

1963. 

GO Robert Chilton, interview, Houston, Ju

2, 1964; Paul F. Horsman, interview, Housto

Feb. 12, 1964; Thomas V. Chambers an

Richard R. Carley, comments, Sept. 25, 196

See also Horsman draft Ms., "Manned Spac

craft Stabilization and Control System," f

Mercury Technical History, June 19, 1963. 

61 Memo for files, Chilton, "Alternate At

tude Control System for the Mercury Capsule

July 8, 1959, 3. Cf. memo, Chilton to Proje

Dir., "Alternate Attitude Control System f

the Mercury Capsule," July 1, 1959. See al

Chilton, "Attitude Control Systems," progre

report, Oct. 21, 1959. 

62 Kurt P. Wagenknecht, McDonnell A

craft Corp. procurement officer, intervie

St. Louis, Sept. 2, 1964. 

63 Roger]. Pierce, "Mercury Capsule Com

munications," Astronautics, IV (Dec. 1959

24-27, 86-88. Another constant problem w

the discovery of toxic byproducts from electric

insulation, which required much equipme

redesign. 

04 Minutes, "Special Coordination Meetin

at McDonnell," Norman F. Smith, secretar

Oct. 1 and 2, 1959, sec. 2a.0.l, 5. 

6;; Letter, Gilruth to Ira H. Abbott, "R

quired Basic Research on Parachute to Suppo

Manned Space Flight," July 6, 1959, 2. S

also memos, G. A. White, ]. B. Lee, a

Alan B. Kehlet to Chief, Flight Systems Div

"Drogue parachute," Oct. 15, 1959. 

66 Letter, Henry]. E. Reid to NASA, "R

quired Basic Research on Parachute to Suppo

Manned Space Flight," Sept. 22, 1959; d

Joe W. Dodson, transcript of taped discussio

"Mercury Parachute History," Sept. 196

and Russell E. Clickner, comments, Nov. 

1965. 

67 Letter, Charles ]. Donlan to Low

"Langley Support for Project Mercury," De

9, 1959. The addition of the better "mous

trap" is best described in Aleck C. Bond an
GS Purser, log for Gilruth, Dec . 21, 1959. 

Parachute systems and technology are well 

described in Ms " Bond and Faget, "Technologies of 1\1anned Space Systems," Chap. 14, 

"The Role of Ground Testing in Manned 

Spacecraft Programs, " 166-177. 

G~ When they become available, see the 

following classified historical monographs 

written by Air Force historians : Lee Bowen, 

The Thresh old 0/ Space: The Air Force 

National Space Program, 1945-1959, Sept. 

1960; Max Rosenberg, The Air Force in Space 

1959-60, June 1962 ; Clarence j. Geiger, History 0/ the X-20A: D yna-Soar, Air Force 

Systems Command Hist. Pub. Series, 63-50-1, 

Oct. 1963 ; Robert L. Perry, Origins 0/ the 

USAF Space Program, 1945-1956, Air Force 

Systems Command Hist. Pub. Series, 62-24-10, 

1961; Ethel M. DeHaven, Aerospace-The 

Evolution o f USAF Weapons Acquisition Policy, 1945-i961 , Aug. 1962; Comparisons of 

NASA Manned Space Program and USAF 

Manned Militar y Space Proposal, Feb. 25, 

1960, 

70 George Alexander, "Atlas Accuracy Improves as Test Program Is Completed," Aviation Week, LXXVIII (Feb. 25, 1963),69-75. 

71 Mark Morton, "Progress in Reentry-Recovery Vehicle Development," pamphlet, Missile and Space Vehicle Dept., General Electric 

Co., Philadelphia, Jan. 2,1961,14. 

73 Kehlet and Bruce G. Jackson, STG aerodynamicists responsible for the aerodynamic 

stability of the Big Joe capsule on entry, wanted 

this to be a free flight (with the ACS nonoperative from turnaround to max q), but 

shortly before the launch day "somebody blew 

the whistle" and changed the plan to full operation of the ACS throughout the flight. As it 

turned out, Kehlet and Jackson got their wish 

after all: interviews, Downey, Calif., Aug. 27, 

1964, and Houston, Sept. 13, 1965. 

,3 "Project Mercury Status Report No.4," 

1, 15-18, 36. Cf. "Project Mercury Status 

Report No.3 ," Ms. , Bond, for Project Mercury 

Tech. Hist. Program, "Big Joe," June 27, 1963. 

According to Jack A. Kinzler, Langley shop 

foreman, the Big Joe capsule culminated an 

intensive manufacturing development that fed 

directly into STG's relations with McDonnell; 

see Kinzler draft Ms., "Manufacturing by 

NASA for Project Mercury," for Mercury Tech

al., "Instrumentation," for Project Mercury 

Tech. Hist. Program, June 27, 1963, 12. Ms., 

Harold Gold, "Attitude Control System for 

Project HS-24," June 9, 1959; Warren Plohr, 

in terview, Cleveland, May 1, 1964. 

7:; Bond, interview, Houston, March 13, 

1964; B. Porter Brown, interview, Cape Kennedy, April 30, 1964; Scott H. Simpkinson, 

interview, Houston, June 2, 1964. See also 

memo [Simpkinson], NASA-(MTQD) to all 

concerned, "Personnel Assignments for First 

Mercury FRF and Launch," Aug. 31, 1959. 

,6 The industrial society at the Cape is well 

described by Richard A. Smith, "Industry's 

Trial by Fire at Canaveral," in Editors of 

Fortune, The Space Industry: America's Newest Giant (Englewood Cliffs, N.]., 1962), 65 

et seq. 

,7 For the first STG countdown procedures, 

see four-page ditto, "HS-24 Countdown of 

Major Events," in Simpkinson's papers; STG,. 

"Test No. HS-24 General Information for Recovery Forces," NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 101, Aug. 14, 1959. 

,8 The following description of the Big Joe 

flight is based on the documents cited below 

and on Simpkinson's eyewitness account and 

vivid recall in interview; "Preliminary Flight 

Test Results of Big Joe," NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 107, Oct. 12, 1959; 

"Qualification Tests on the Big Joe Recovery 

System," NASA Project Mercury working 

paper No. 108, Oct. 27, 1959. Cf. memo, 

Warren j. North to T. E. Jenkins, "Flight Mission Data for Project Mercury," Jan. 14, 1960, 

and John P. Mayer, comments, Sept. 8, 1965. 

,0 Memo, Low to Administrator, "Big Joe 

Shot," Sept. 9, 1959. Carl R. Huss, in comments, Oct. 5, 1965, called attention to the fact 

that "the reliability of Atlas staging was abou t 

as high as it could be" until Big Joe. 

sa Letter, "Big Joe team" to Gilru th, Sept. 6, 

1959. This artifact is one of Gilruth's mementos, now sealed in plastic and framed in a 

plaque on the wall of the office of the director, 

Manned Spacecraft Center. See also Huss 

comments. 

61 Memo, Leonard Rabb to Chief, Flight 

Systems Div., "Heat Shield Performance," Oct. 

7, 1959. Bond, interview, Houston, Sept. 22, 

1965. See also "Results of Studies Made to 

Determine Required Retrorocket Capability," 

553 
the capsule in the event of a control system 

failure. This study was published as NASA 

Project Mercury working paper No. 113, "Preliminary Study Using Inflatable Spheres for 

Aerodynamic Stabilization During Reentry," 

Nov. 18, 1959. 

82 Bond, "Big Joe," 23, 24, 25. The last 

paragraph of this quotation is somewhat anachronistic in that it disregards the last-minute 

debates among aerodynamicists over the dynamic stability issue: see ante footnote 72. Regarding afterbody heat protection, other evidence from wind tunnels and from the Navy's 

Ordnance Aerophysics Laboratory at Daingerfield, Texas, was accumulating also, pointing 

toward the need for beryllium or a like material 

to act as hea t sink shingles around the antenna 

canister. 

83 Alexander, "Atlas Accuracy Improves." 

81 Abraham D. Spinak et al., "Special Accident Investigating Committee Report of the 

Little Joe No. One Misfire on Aug. 21, 1959, 

Wallops Station," Sept. 18, 1959, 6. 

5J Memo, W. S. Blanchard, Jr., to Assoc. 

Dir., "Tentative Changes in the Langley Little 

Joe Support Program," Sept. 3, 1959; "Little 

Joe Project Progress Report," North American 

Aviation, Sept. 31, 1959, 6; letter, Gerathewohl to Jerome Hammack, Dec. 30, 1959; letter, Donlan to Gerathewohl, Jan. 22, 1960. 

&0 Memo, Low to Administrator, "First Little Joe Launching," Oct. 5, 1959. Cf. memo, 

Low to Administrator, "Follow-up Report, Little Joe Firing of 11/4/59," Nov. 6, 1959. See 

"Flight Test Report LJ-6," NASA Project 

Mercury working paper No. 133, April 22, 

1960. See also memo, John F. Royall, Jr., 

to STG Assoc. Dir., "Preliminary Data from 

the Flight Test . . . of Little Joe No.6, Nov. 

4, 1959." 

57 "Countdown for the Little Joe I-A," 

STG, Nov. 4, 1959. Cf. memo, Silverstein to 

Dir., Office of Public Information, "Project 

Mercury Information Plan," July 7,1959. 

5S Letter, Donlan to Cdr., DesFlotFour, Dec. 

29, 1959; "Research and Development Flight 

Test Program ... Abort at High Dynamic 

Pressure, LJ-1A," NASA Project Mercury 

working paper No. 134, July 25, 1960. George 

Low has commen ted (Oc t. 5, 1965) that this 

hangfire on LJ-1A "probably in itself made 

the entire Little Joe program worthwhile. 

June 18, 1959. Cf. memo, Jack C. Heber

to Gilruth, "Visit of [School of Aviation Me

cine personnel, 25 men] to Discuss Bio-Pa

[for Little Joe 2, 3, and 4]," April 1, 195

Ronald Kolenkiewicz, "Minutes of Meeti

Concerning Mercury Qualification Test for L

tle Joe No.5, June 30, 1959, at NASA-ST

Langley Field, Va.," July 16, 1959. The pr

liminary operations plan for the aeromedic

aspects of LJ-5 was drawn up by Richard 

Johnston on Nov. 26, 1959. 

00 The possibility of flying a manned Lit

Joe was seriously if secretly considered duri

this time, but the idea was quickly discarded 

technically not feasible because the dynam

pressures were too great: Walter C. William

interview, Houston, Aug. 23, 1965. 

Ol "Little Joe II," operations plan, ST

Dec. 2, 1959; memo, Low to Administrato

"Little Joe Test No.3," Dec. 5, 1959. C

"Flight Test Report, LJ-2," NASA Proje

Mercury working paper No. 169, April 196

"Recovery Operations for Little Joe Test N

Two," NASA Project Mercury working pap

No. 122, Jan. 18,1960. See also letter, Dryd

to Gilruth, Dec. 8, 1959; letter, Otis O. Benso

Jr., to Dryden, Dec. 30, 1959. 

O~ Memo, George D. Smith to NASA A

ministrator, "Biological Experiment on Litt

Joe No.2," Dec. 31, 1959. Cf. letter, Re

to STG, "In support of Project Mercur

Transmittal of Preliminary Data ... of Litt

Joe 2," Dec . 31,1959; John A. Powers and 

Harry Kolcum, "Information Plan-Little J

Flight 1-B," Jan. 5, 1960, 2. 

03 Gilruth, "Addendum to Information Pl

for Firing of Little Joe 1-B," Jan. 5, 1960, 

01 Memo, Low to NASA Administrato

"Little Joe 1-B (Test No.4) ," Jan. 22, 196

Cf. "Flight Test Report, LJ-1B," NASA Pro

ect Mercury working paper No. 173, March 

1961. "Recovery Operations for LJ Test N

One-B," NASA Project Mercury workin

paper No. 105, Feb. 1960. 

OJ Memo, Heberlig to Chief, Flight System

Div., "Preliminary Reports of the SAM Bi

Pak Experiment in Little Joe 1-B," Feb. 

1960. See also letter, Gilruth to Cloid D

Green, School of Aviation Medicine, Broo

AFB, re LJ-1B biophysical aspects, April 2

1960. 

00 Memo, Harvey H. Hubbard to Asso

554 
design, May 3, 1960. See also booklet, "Project Mercury Photographs of Press Tour, Little 

Joe 1-B," Jan. 20-21, 1960. 

97 Minutes, Lewis R. Fisher, "Little Joe 

No.5," meeting on Jan. 28, 1960. 

!18 See, e.g., Newsweek, LIV (Oct. 26, 

1959), for story and pictures of three Russian cosmonauts, Aleksei Gracher, Aleksei 

Belokonev, and Ivan Kachur. See also Ari 

Shternfeld, Soviet Space Medicine (2 rev. 

ed., New Yerk, 1959). 

D9 Purser, logs for Gilruth, Dec. 15 and 21, 

1959. 

100 Memo, M . Scott Carpenter et al., to 

Project Dir., "Exchange .of Visits with Russian 

Astronauts," Oct. 21,1959; T. Keith Glennan, 

"Opportunities fer International Cooperation 

in Space," Dept. of State Bulletin (Jan. 11, 

1960), 62. Cf. Vernon Van Dyke, Pride and 

Power (Urbana, Ill., 1964), 244-246; Eugene 

M. Emme, Aeronautics and Astronautics: An 

American Chronology of Science and Technology in the Exploration of Space, 1915-1960 

(Washington, 1961), 115. See also Philip C. 

Jessup and Howard J. Taubenfeld, Controls 

for Outer Space and the Antarctic Analogy 

(New York, 1959),251-282; Purser, "Review 

of Infermation Relating te Soviet Manned 

Space Flight Activity," a scrapbook and summary report, Jan. 22, 1960. 

101 Howard C. Kyle, interview, Houston, 

Oct. 19, 1963; Hartley A. Soule, interview, 

Hampton, Va., Jan. 7, 1964. Perhaps the 

best overview .of the complexity of the Mercury network can be gained from the manual 

"Introduction to Project Mercury and Site 

Handbook," Western Electric Company, Inc., 

MG-101, Sept. 1960. This is the first in a 

series .of some 50 volumes of operations and 

maintenance manuals. 

102 Kraft, "Some Operational Aspects .of 

Project Mercury," speech, annual meeting, 

Soc. of Experimental Test Pilots, Los Angeles, 

Oct. 9, 1959, 5, 6, 10. See also Kraft, interview, Houston, Oct. 20, 1964, and "A Study 

of the Control and Landing Areas for Post 

Staging Abort Trajectories," NASA Project 

Mercury working paper No. 100, Aug. 3, 

1959. 

103 Gerald M. Truszynski, "Space Communications," NASA pamphlet, 1963 , 11; 

Mayer, interview, Houston, Oct.· 19, 1964. 

tics, Lockheed, and Stromberg-Carlsen on 

Nov. 30, Dec. 1, through Dec. 4, 1959." 

104 John D. Hodge, interview, Houston, 

Aug. 11, 1964; David G. Simons, interview, 

San Antonio, April 24, 1964; Col. Geerge M. 

Knauf was shortly tD undertake the team 

training of Air Force medical monitors in the 

areas assigned to him at Patrick Air FDrce 

Base and at the Cape. See memo, Stanley C. 

White to Chief, Flight Systems Div., "Trip to 

USAF Surgeon General's Office ... to discuss daily training of medical monitors with 

Colonel Knauf," Feb. 8, 1960. The STG also 

conducted medical monitor training at 

Langley. 

105 Sensitive security matters may be traced 

backward from various editions of NASA's 

"Mercury Program Security Classification 

Guide," SCG-9, the second and £nal revision 

of which was dated Dec. 15, 1964. The first 

of these guides, issued on Aug. 3, 1959, 

had only the particular command oontrol code 

used for a specific flight designated at the 

highest level of security. 

100 The first network specifications, numbered S-45 dated May 21, 1959, were superseded by two revisions until S-45B of Oct. 30, 

1959. Memo, Reid to all concerned, "Designation of Organization, Membership, and Operating Procedures f.or the Source-Selection 

Panel and the Technical Evaluation BoardTracking and Ground Instrumentation, Project 

Mercury," June 12, 1959; memo, North to 

NASA Administrator, "Background of Project 

Mercury Schedules," with enclosure, Aug. 14, 

1960, 4. The definitive contract with Western Electric, NAS 1-430, was not executed 

until Jan. 11, 1960, after which some 500 

changes were processed before completion in 

June 1961. See the series of monthly "PrDgress Report to NASA: Project Mercury," 

Western Electric Cempany, Inc., Aug. 1959 

to June 1961. 

]07 Letter, Reid to Edmond C. Buckley, 

"Arrangements for Site Survey Teams in Connection with Tracking and Ground Instrumentation Systems for Project Mercury," July 16, 

1959. For some indications of the extent of 

these difficulties, see (for Mexico) Purser, log 

for Gilruth, Aug. 17, 1959; and (fDr Africa) 

Ray W. Hooker, memo for files, "Tracking and 

Ground Instrumentation Systems for Project 

555 
ton, Sept. 2, 1965; and Chaps. 1 and 2 of 

his book, International Cooperation in Space 

(Englewood Cliffs, N.]., 1965). For texts of 

all executive agreements, memoranda of understanding, and other international arrangements after 1959, see Senate Committee on 

Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 89 Cong., 

1 sess., United States International Space Programs, July 30, 1965. Dwight D. Eisenhuwer, 

The White House Years: Waging Peace, 1956­

1961 (Garden City, N.Y., 1965), 344. 

lO~ Alfred Rosenthal, The Early Years: 

Goddard Space Flight Center Historical Origins and Activities through December 1962 

(Washington, 1964), 53, 57. Cf. "Fifth Anniversary, International Tracking of Space 

Vehicles," pamphlet, Goddard Space Flight 

Center, Greenbelt, Md., Jan. 31, 1963. Soule 

interview. 

no See anon., "The Manned Space Flight 

Tracking Network," pamphlet, NASA Goddard Space Flight Center, Greenbelt, Md., 

1965. See also Loyd S. Swenson, J r., "The 

Telecommunications Revolution in the Nineteenth Century," paper, American Studies 

Assn., Claremont, Calif., Nov. 1962. 

111 See Wilfred]. Mayo-Wells, "The Origins of Space Telemetry," in Emme, ed., The 

History of Rocket Technology, 253, 268. See 

also Harry L. Stiltz, ed., Aerospace Telemetry 

(Englewood Cliffs, N.]., 1961) and Mayer 

comments. 

m John T. Mengel, comments, Sept. 14, 

1965. Mengel (for the Navy), Edmond 

Buckley (for NACA) , and Gerald De Bey (for 

the Army) had supported the Air Force studies for "Man-in-Space-Soonest" tracking requirements in 1958. See also Mengel, "Satellite Ground Data Networks," Appendix B in 

Alfred Rosenthal, Goddard '63: A Year in Review at Goddard Space Flight Center (Greenbelt, Md., 1964), B-1, B-9. 

IL3 M. S. Buist and G. M. Weinberg, "RealTime Multi-Programming in Project Mercury," 

in Donald P. Le Galley, ed ., Ballistic Missile 

and Space Technology (4 vols., New York, 

1960), I, 436. See also J . Painter and E. 

Chicoine, eds., "Reference Notes on Communication Systems," NASA Manned Spacecraft 

Center, November 1962. 

ILl The Burroughs and IBM computer sys

Network," NASA Historical Note HHN-5

Shirley Thomas, Satellite Tracking Faciliti

Their History and Operations (New Yo

1963) ; P. V. H. Weems et al., Space Navig

tion Handbook, NAVPERS 92988 (Washin

ton, 1961). See also anon., "Mercury H

tory: An Unclassified Documentation of t

Contributions of Radio Command Guidan

to Project Mercury," mimeographed 24-pa

document prepared by Information Servic

General Electric, Radio Guidance Operatio

Syracuse, N.Y., ca. June 1963. 

11:; Powers, memo for file, "Points of E

phasis in Promoting the Public Picture of t

Space Task Group," undated [ca. Dec. 195

Chapter VIII 

1 Jacques Piccard, "Man's Deepest Div

National Geographic, CXVIII (July 196

235; Edward L. Beach, "Triton Follows Mag

lan's Wake," National Geographic, CXV

(Aug. 1960),585-615; House Committee 

Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 2 se

(1960), Ocean Sciences and National Securi

July 1, 1960; Norris and Ross McWhirter, ed

Guinness Book of World Records (paperba

ed., New York, 1964), 205, 207; Bern Dibn

The Victoria and the Triton (Norwalk, Con

1962). On Jan. 23, 1960, a Pacific Fleet ta

element floated above the Marianas Trenc

an abyssal canyon north of Guam, also know

as the Challenger Deep, while Jacques Piccar

the son of Auguste who had designed t

Trieste, and Donald Walsh, a Navy lieutenan

squeezed themselves into the bathyspheric

gondola beneath their hydrostatic balloon. 

this third of a series of dives, Piccard and Wal

sank down 7000 fathoms, or eight miles, whe

their vehicle endured 1085 tons of pressure p

square foot and where they saw life on th

bottom of the ocean. For all mankind, Picca

and Walsh figuratively "took possession of th

abyss, the last extreme on our Earth that r

mained unconquered." Three months late

011 April 25, 1960, the nuclear-powered su

marine Triton, with 183 Americans captaine

by Edward L. Beach, completed the world

first undersea circumnavigation, following f

two months submerged the wake of Magellan

ship, the Victoria, at an average speed of 

knots for 41,519 miles. The inertial guidanc

556 
l 

g

, p, , 

Atlas, and Titan. 

~ House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong. , 2 sess. (1960), Hearings, Review of the Space Program (Part 1, No.3), 

testimony of T. Keith Glennan, 170, ana Project Mercury, First Interim Report, Jan. 27, 

1960; John W. Finney, "Soviet Space Man 

Held Pacific Aim," New York Times, Jan. 9, 

1960; Finney, "U.S. Steps up Effort in Outer 

Space Race," New York Times, Jan. 19,1960; 

Craig Lewis, "NASA's $802 Million Request 

May Grow," A viation Week, LXXII (Jan. 25, 

1960) . 

3 Abe Silverstein, quoted in Albert Sehlstedt, 

Jr., "No Space Man Urgency Seen," Baltimore 

Sun, Jan. 26, 1960 ; William Hines, "Scientist 

Urges Use of Space for Humanity," Washington Evening Star, Jan. 25, 1960; Ralph E. 

Lapp, Man and Space: The Next Decade (New 

York, 1961), 55- 67; Donald W. Cox, The 

SPace Race : From Sputnik to Apollo-and Beyond (Philadelphia, 1962), 88-93; David Wise 

and Thomas B. Ross, The U-2 Affair (New 

York, 1962). 

See Frank H . Samonski, Jr., "Project 

Mercury Environmental Control System Technical History," MSC, Crew Systems Division 

report No. 63-34, Nov. 14, 1963, for a most 

thorough topical overview of this subject. 

=; Seymour Chapin, "The Pressurized Flight 

Industry in the Southwest Since 1930," paper, 

Pacific Coast Branch meeting, American Hist. 

Assn., Los Angeles, Aug. 26, 1964. See also 

Irwin Stambler, "Environmental System for 

Mercury Capsule is Simple, Rugged," Space/ 

Aeronautics, XXXII (July 1959), 42-45. 

o A. D. Catterson, interview, Houston, Oct. 

23, 1964; memo, Stanley C. White, "Present 

Status-Major Systems: Environmental Systems," Feb. 1959; memo, Gerard J. Pesman to 

Tech. Assessment Committee, "Meeting with 

McDonnell Aircraft Corporation to Discuss Environmental Control System for the Manned 

Spacecraft Capsule," Jan. 23, 1959. Although 

STG decided this question in favor of the latter 

alternative in 1958, the possibility of a change 

existed throughout 1959. See also William K. 

Douglas comments, Aug. 17, 1965. 

7 Ms., Maxime A. Faget and Aleck C. Bond, 

"Technologies of Manned Space Systems," 55. 

For an excellent view of the controversy about 

mixed gas versus 100 percent oxygen systems, 

added that the danger of decompression sickness may retard extravehicular operations and 

therefore "may prove to be the Achilles heel 

in their program." 

S Edward H . OIling, interview, Houston, 

Sept. 14, 1965. See also OIling's Ms. paper, 

"Design Solutions and Test Results for the Life 

Support System for Project Mercury," Sept. 

1960. Control of atmospheric dust and debris 

at the micron level was apparently first applied 

in the aerospace industry at the AiResearch 

factory in Los Angeles a few weeks before 

similar arrangements were made at the McDonnell plant in St. Louis. 

o A. B. Thompson, "Physiological and Psychological Considerations for Manned Space 

Flight," Report E9R-12349, Rev., Chance 

Vought Aircraft Inc., Dallas, July 7,1959, 165. 

10 Ms., John R. Barton, "Systems Engineering Considerations in Designing and Testing 

the Life Support System for Project Mercury," 

Oct. 14,1960,4. 

11 Minutes, Jack A. Prizzi, "Meeting with 

McDonnell- Environmental Control SystemJuly 30, 1959, at Space Task Group," Aug. 17, 

1959. Cf. memo, White to Chief, Flight Systems Div., "Approval of Specification Control 

Drawing No. 45-83700, Revision S," Aug. 7, 

1959. Eventually capsule No.7 was standardized on the ECS assumptions of 500 cc./min. 

oxygen consumption rate, 300 cc./min. cabin 

leakage rate, and 500 B.t.u ./hr. body heating 

rate. 

l~ Memos, Richard S. Johnston to Chief, 

Flight Systems Div., "Test Program- Environmental System Trainer," July 27, 1959; and 

"Report on Trip to ACEL to Discuss Installation of ECS Trainer in Altitude Chamber," 

Sept. 21, 1959; letter, Robert R. Gilru th to 

Chief, Bureau of Aeronautics, Dept. of the 

Navy, "Test Program for Environmental System 

Test Vessel," Sept. 28, 1959; memo, Charles 

D. Wheelwright to Chief, Flight Systems 

Div., "Trip Report," Sept. 29, 1959; Johnston, 

"Mercury Life Support Systems," paper, 28th 

annual meeting, Institute of Aeronautical Sciences, New York City, Jan. 25-27, 1960, 15. 

13 Memos, Samonski to Chief, Flight Systems Div., "Developments in the Environmental Control System Testing Program at 

McDonnell," June 13, 1960; and "Progress of 

Manned ECS Tests at MAC," July 25, 1960; 

557 
ppy

lated Operating Conditions," McDonnell Aircraft Corp., March 1, 1961, 21-23. 

H Memo, White to Chief, Engineering and 

Contract Administration Div., "Project Mercury Full Pressure Suit Selection," Feb. 27, 

1959. See also Frederick R. Ritzinger, Jr., 

and Ellis G. Aboud, "Pressure Suits-Their 

Evolution and Development," Air University 

Review, XVI (Jan.-Feb. 1965), 23-32. 

]j Edwin G. Vail and Charles C. Lutz, 

"Project Mercury Pressure Suit Evaluation," 

Wright Air Development Center, June 1959; 

Lee N. McMillion, interview, Houston, Nov. 1, 

1963; "Agenda and Conclusion, Pressure Suit 

Evaluation Conference," STG, July 15, 1959. 

Cf. "Status Report No. 3 for Period Ending 

July 21,1959," STG. 

lG William S. Augerson and McMillion, 

"Conclusions and Recommendations Concerning the Mercury Pressure Suit," Aug. 29, 1959; 

letter, STG to Langley Research Center, Attention Procurement Officer, "Project Mercury 

Pressure Suit Procurement," with enclosure, 

"Specification-Suit, Full Pressure, Project 

Mercury," Oct. 2, 1959. Cf. "Status Report 

No.3." 

17 W. J. Berus, "Space Suits-Past, Present 

and Future," paper, spring meeting, Akron 

Rubber Group, April 4, 1963, 15. See also 

"Status Report No.3." Ventilation oxygen 

entered the suit through a hose connection at 

the waist, was channeled through suit distribution ducts to body extremities, and flowed 

freely over the body back to the helmet. 

18 Memo, McMillion to Chief, Flight Systems Div., "Pressure Suit Status Report," 

Dec. 24, 1959. 

10 D. D. Ewing, "Sizing Problem on Project 

Mercury Pressure Suit," notes on proposed 

revision of Contract No. AS 60-8011 C, Jan. 

25, 1960; memo, McMillion, "Trip Report," 

March 1, 1960; memo, McMillion to Chief, 

Flight Systems Div., "Trip Report," June 3, 

1960, wi th enclosure re decisions made in meeting at Goodrich plant, Akron, March 14, 1960. 

Cf. letter, Ewing to Carl F . Effler, "Report 

of Mercury Suit Meeting on June 1 and 2, 

1960," June 7, 1960. "The complexity and 

difficulty of donning the full pressure suit was 

noted with covert satisfaction by the writer, 

'an old-partial pressure suit man,'" said 

558 

, , 

~o Certainly the most delicate of all su

interfaces for the first few leaps into space w

that between the biosensors and human skin

The issue of the rectal thermometer design

into the suit was accepted for the moment 

a necessary intrusion. See memo, Whee

wright to Chief, Flight Systems Div., "Tr

Report," March 1, 1960; letter, Warren 

North to Harold I. Johnson, "Comments 

Johnsville Centrifuge Program," Nov. 23, 196

21 Suit pressure was maintained by a d

mand regulator that metered the oxygen in

the system. If cabin pressure failed, the d

mand regulator sensed the pressure loss, seal

the suit, and maintained it at 4.6 pound

Should both systems fail-suit and cabin

there was an emergency oxygen valve that f

directly into the inlet hose at the waist jun

tion. Before May 1961, the pressure suit h

received 514 hours of manned testing. 

Oxygen was metered into the cabin by 

regulator to maintain a minimum limit of 5

pounds. In designed operation, the cab

system remained at ambient pressure on t

pad and up to 27,000 feet. At that altitu

it sealed off at 5.5 pounds. If there were 

fire or a buildup of toxic gases, the astrona

could decompress the cabin manually, exhau

the toxic odors, and repressurize it. This sy

tem received 135 manned test hours at t

Navy's Aviation Medical Acceleration Labor

tory before May 3, 1961. 

~~ Thompson, "Physiological and Psych

logical Considerations for Manned Spa

Flight," 4, 24, 47-49, 164. See also Whit

"Progress in Space Medicine," paper, Secon

World and Fourth European Congress for Av

ation and Space Medicine," Rome, Oct. 2

31, 1959. 

~~ D. G. Starkey, "Isolation," in "Physi

logical and Psychological Considerations f

Manned Space Flight," 140-145. See al

Philip Solomon, et aI., "Sensory Deprivation, 

Review," American Journal of Psycholog

CXIV (Oct. 1957),4. 

21 See, for example, Johnston, "Mercu

Life Support System"; Faget and Robert 

Piland, "Mercury Capsule and Its Flight Sy

terns"; and Bond and Alan B. Kehlet, "Revie

Scope and Recent Results of Project Mercu

Research and Development Program," paper
py 

sion," paper, 28th annual meeting, Institute 

of the Aeronautical Sciences, New Y,ork City, 

Jan. 25, 1960. 

"Edward R. Jones, "Prediction of Man's 

Vision in and from the Mercury Capsule," 

paper, 31st annual meeting, Aerospace Medical 

Assn., Miami Beach, May 9, 1960. 

~7 Jones, "Man's Performance in an Orbital 

Space Vehicle," paper, Iowa Academy of Science, University of Iowa, Iowa City, April 

22,1960,7,10. 

~'''Tentative Schedule of Activities for 

First Months of Training Program," STG, 

April-Oct., 1959. 

~n Project Mercury: First Interim Report, 

54-59; "Astronauts: Symposium," Life, 

XLVII, Sept. 14,. 1959; "Seven Brave Women 

Behind the Astronauts," Life, XLVII, Sept. 

21, 1959 ; "Astronauts Get Their Prodigious 

Chariot," Life, XLVII, Dec. 14,1959. 

:)n Donald K . Slayton, "Like Seeing My 

Own Future," Life, XLVII, Feb. 29, 1960; 

M. Scott Carpenter, "Eerie World of Zero G," 

Life, XLVII, Mar. 21, 1960; Walter M. 

Schirra, J r. , "Suit Tailor-Made for Space," 

Life, XLIX, Aug. 1, 1960; L. Gordon Cooper, 

Jr., "First Rocket We Will Ride: Redstone's 

Role in Project Mercury," Life, XLIX, Oct. 

3, 1960. 

~l Letters, Lila J. Phillips to Mercury Astronauts, July 21, 1959. Enclosed questionnaires were answered in part by each astronau t. 

~~ Hugh L. Dryden, in interview, Washington, Aug. 31, 1965. Walter T. Bonney, in 

interview with Eugene M. Emme and William 

Putnam, Washington, Oct. 15, 1965, stressed 

the administrative need for one rather than 

seven such contracts, since NASA's modest 

public information 5taff was already deluged . 

~~ Memo, North to Dir. of Space Flight 

Development, "Interim Status Report for Project Mercury," Aug. 7, 1959, 2; John A. 

Powers, interview, Houston, Nov. 12, 1965; 

Donald Slayton, interview, Houston, Dec. 16, 

1964. For the contract made by DeOrsey on 

May 28, 1959, see House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. 

(1961), 1962 NASA Authorization, Part I, 

147-148. Cf. William Hines, "Astronauts 

Face 'Exclusivity' Crisis," Washington Evening 

Star, Dec. 9, 1965. See also John Troan, 

"NASA Will Police Spacemen," Washington 

gg p

for Mercury between Headquarters and STG, 

see Walter Bonney's remarks before United 

Press International Editors' Conference, Washington, NASA release, Sept. 9, 1960. Bonney 

recalls the day "all hell broke loose!" (p. 4) 

and how astronaut information policy evolved . 

Many NASA officials still vigorously defend 

the propriety and the wisdom of the "personal 

stories" contracts, but others disagree. See 

also Walter T. Bonney, comments, Dec. 1, 

1965. 

3;; Memo, George C. Guthrie to Training 

Office, "Second Bimonthly Report," Aug. 10, 

1959; memos, Stanley Faber to Project Dir., 

"Outline of the January Program on the Aviation Medical Acceleration Laboratory Centrifuge," Dec. 3, 1959; and "Additional Information on January Centrifuge Program," Dec. 15, 

1959. Memo for files, Robert B. Voas, "Astronaut Activities During Missile Preparation, 

Launch and Flight, Preliminary Outline," Nov. 

5, 1959. 

36 Letter, John H. Glenn, Jr., to James B 

Stockdale, Dec. 17, 1959. See also "Summary of Mercury-Johnsville Centrifuge Program of August 1959," NASA Project Mercury 

working paper No. 127, June 22, 1960. 

37 For a review article on the resonant frequencies of various bodily organs, see David E. 

Goldman, M.D., and Henning E. von Gierke, 

"The Effects of Shock and Vibratio,n on Man," 

paper, Naval Medical Research Institute, Lecture and Review Series No. 60-3, Bethesda, 

Md., Jan. 8, 1960. 

38 Memo, William Douglas to Assoc. Dir., 

"Training, Static Firing of Jupiter with Mercury Capsule," Feb. 10, 1960; William H. 

Mayes and David A. Hilton, "External and 

Internal Noise of Capsules," paper, STG Research Dept. meeting, Feb. 1, 1960; letter, 

Charles J. Donlan to R. W. Costin, July 29, 

1960. Even Congressional attention was invited to these problems by the publication of 

House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 

86 Cong., 2 sess. (1960), Noise: Its Effect on 

Man and Machine, Oct. 13,1960,33-35. 

30 Memos, Alan B. Shepard, Jr., for files, 

"Report on Astronaut Training-Capsule 

Egress and Water Survival, Pensacola, Florida, 

Mar. 28-Apr. I, 1960," April 5, 1960; and 

"Astronauts' Comments on Mercury Capsule 

Survival Kit and Equipment," April 28, 1960. 

559 
April 18, 1961. On Project Excelsior, see Eugene M. Emme, Aeronautics and Astronautics: 

An American Chronology of Science and Technology in the Exploration of Space, 1915-1960 

(Washington, 1961), 114,116, 120; Joseph W. 

Kittinger, "The Long, Lonely Leap," National 

Geographic, CXVIII (Dec. 1960),854. 

41 "Highlights of the First Year of the Astronaut Training Program," with charts and tables 

for oral presentation, STG, May 1, 1960. 

4~ Sec, e.g., "Briefing Given to NASA Astronauts," Rocketdyne BCl-59-12, Rocketdyne 

Div., North American Aviation, Inc., Canoga 

Park, Calif., Sept. 18, 1959. 

4~ Johnson, "Pilots' Training Aids," briefing, 

Wright Air Development Center, Feb. 3, 1960, 

2; letter, the astronauts to Dir., Project Mercury, Feb. 4, 1960. 

4\ Robert R. Miller, illterview (telephonic), 

Cleveland, Jan. 26, 1965. For an illustrated 

catalog of most United States training simulations of this nature, see H. E. von Gierke and 

E. Steinmetz, eds., Motion Devices for Linear 

and Angular Oscillation and for Abrupt Acceleration Studies (Impact), NAS/NRC Publication 903 (Washington, 1961). 

4;; James W. Useller, interview, Cleveland, 

May 1, 1964. See Useller and Joseph S. AIgranti, "Pilot Reactions to High-Speed Rotations," Aerospace Magazine, XXXIV (June 

1963),501-504. Test subjects were brought 

up to speed in abou t 10-15 seconds, and then 

were expected to damp out all three axial rotations in the next 30 seconds or so. 

4S Useller interview. Meanwhile the Lewis 

altitude wind tunnel was being used as a space 

vacuum chamber and was needed for some 

important separation tests of the spacecraft 

from an Atlas adapter. R. R. Miller and 

Robert B. Nunemaker also ran tests of pyrotechnics, monitored by John B. Lee and Charles 

Yodzis of STG, that uncovered a host of anomalies in the design and performance of explosive bolts, retrograde and posigrade rockets, 

and the alignment of the escape rocket. See 

also souvenir picture booklet, "Astronau t Press 

Meeting, Lewis Research Center, March 4, 

1960." 

41 "Status Report, Crew Training," April 

1960, 3; see also memo, Brent Y. Creer and 

Rodney C. Wingrove to Dir., Ames Research 

560 

49 "Project Mercury General Systems Doc

ment," NASA Project Mercury working pap

No. 118, March 10, 1960, rev. Oct. 24, 196

and March 23, 1961. 

GO Voas, "Human Factors Aspects of t

Man-In-Space Program," paper, Air For

Scientific Advisory Board, Psychology a

Social Science Panel, Jan. 26,1961,24,7. 

!;l Jones, "Analytical Techniques for Def

ing the Astronaut's Task," and "Astronau

and Ground Station Failure Reference," p

pers, ninth annual Human Engineering Co

ference, Office of Naval Research, St. Lou

June 2,1961. 

~Voas, "Human Factors Aspects," 1

Jones, interview, St. Louis, Sept. 2, 1964; "T

Failure Task Analysis," McDonnell Aircr

Corp., June 15, 1961, rev. June 21, 196

Voas, for instance, believed, in spite of cons

erable opposition, that: "A rough estimate 

the priority that should be given to each su

system in the training program can be express

as the reliability of the automatic compone

plus the estimated reliability for the huma

Tasks associated with subsystems for where th

sum is low should be assigned the high

priority in the training program. This pr

cedure is similar to traditional task analy

procedures, but permits a more qualitative a

proach to the evaluation of design tradeoff's a

the construction of training program." 

'hl House Committee on Science and Astr

nautics, 86 Cong., 2 sess. (1960), Hearin

Review of the Space Program, testimony 

George M. Low, Feb. 16, 1960, Part II, 76

See also Parts I and III for the overall pre

entation of a response to NASA's 10-year pl

as discussed between Jan. 20 and Mar. 

1960. Cf. NASA, Major Activities in t

Programs of the National Aeronautics a

Space Administration, October I, 195

March 31, 1960 [Third Semiannual Report 

Congress], (Washington, 1960). 

(;4 Letter, Cilruth to Comdr., Air For

Ballistic Missile Div., Oct. 12, 1959; "Proje

Mercury Quarterly Report No. 5 for Peri

Ending Jan. 31, 1960," STG, Jan. 31, 196

See also Leighton I. Davis, Maj. Gen., USA

Operations Plan 60-1: Department of D

fense Support for Project Mercury, AFMT

May 31, 1960; d. "Overall Plan Departme
y pjy,

Nov. 3, 1959. 

;;~ J. E. Miller, " M-133 Elect. Coor. Tie-In 

Record," McDonnell Aircraft Corp., Jan. 6, 

1960 . 

.;r Frank G. Morgan, Jr., "Summary of 

Capsule Coordination Meetings," McDonnell 

Aircraft Corp., Jan. 11, 12, 1960; message, 

Paul E. Purser to Logan T. MacMillan, Jan. 25, 

1960. 

~8 T. Keith Glennan, in House Committee 

on Appropriations, Special Subcommittee on 

Deficiencies, 86 Cong., 2 sess., Hearings, Feb. 

J, 1960, Supplemental National Aeronautics 

and Space Administration Appropriations 

1960, 2; d. pp. 27 and 55. 

~,G "Status Report No.5," STG, 2. This 

status report continued on the next page with 

these significant remarks: 

"It has also been found possible to make the 

configuratIOn of thc capsules for MR-2 . . . 

and MR-3 identical. The missions of these 

capsules remain unchanged. However, in 

order for the basic capsules to be identical, the 

quantities to be recorded for the primate 

carried in MR-2 must remain the same as 

those to be recorded for the man in MR-3. 

The advantage of making these capsules identical is that otherwisc the first manned flight 

would have been in a capsule that differed in 

several respects from those that had been fired 

previously. Now there will be at least one 

firing of an identical capsule before inserting 

a man. 

"The operations required for preparation 

and launch of the capsule have received very 

careful study, and it has been concluded that 

these operations will require much more time 

than was previously estimated. The resultant 

program with the dclaycd capsule deliveries 

was, however, felt to be unacceptable. For 

this rcason, new, rather optimistic target times 

have been set for the checkout and launch 

period , and a study has been instituted to sec 

whether these schedules can be met by careful 

planning of the work and facility utilization 

and by extra work shifts. The effects of all 

these factors are being considered in formulating a new schedule." 

C.:J Memo, Gilruth to staff, "Prospective 

Move of the Space Task Group to Goddard 

Space Flight Center, Beltsville, Maryland," 

Feb. 25, 1960; memo for files, William A. 

y p,p, 

Jan. 14, 1960. Cf. "Contract NAS 5-59, 

Mercury Capsule Program-Financial Status 

Summary," with enclosures, McDonnell Aircraft Corp., May 31, 1960. C. F. Picard, 

McDonnell Aircraft Corp., Asst. Contract 

Manager, "Monthly Financial Report," Jan. 

22, 1960, 2. 

t;" R. O. Piland, interview, Houston, Nov. 

5, 1964 ; memo, Gilruth to staff, "Advanced 

Vehicle Team," May 25, 1960; Joseph V. 

Piland, interview, Houston, Oct. 21, 1964. 

1;3 Memo, Gilruth to staff, "Changes in Organization of the Space Task Group," Jan. 11, 

1960. See also Ms., Robert Merrifield and 

C. F. Bingman, "Organization: T echnical 

History of Project Mercury," June 3, 1963. 

04 Memo for files, anon., "Outline of OffRange Remote Site Training Program for 

Flight Control Personnel," Jan. 14, 1960. Cf. 

"Aeromedical Flight Controller Briefing," 

NASA/ STG, May 23-27, 1960. "Operation 

and Maintenance: Flight Controller Remote 

Sites: Operation Manual, MO-118R," Western Electric Co., June 1960. 

", Letter, Walter C . Williams to Kurt H. 

Debus, "Proposal for Mercury-Redstone Coordination Committee," Jan. 18, 1960; letter, 

Williams to Donald N. Yates, "Mercury-Atlas 

Flight Test Working Group," Jan. 18, 1960; 

Howard Gibbons, "Ostrander's Job at NASA 

Not Related to Space Rift," Newport News 

Daily Press, Dec . 10, 1959. See also proposed 

memo of understanding, "Relationships Between OSFP and OLVP Groups at AMR," 

submitted to Ostrander and Silverstein April 

29, 1960. 

"" Memos, Williams to staff, "Responsibilities of Mercury Launch Coordination Office," 

Feb. 11 , 1960; "Organization for Mercury 

Field Operations," Feb. 12, 1960 ; letter, Williams to Yates, "Position Titles for Operation 

of Projec t Mercury," March 9, 1960 ; letter, 

Williams to Cdr., DesFlotFour, "Test Objectives and Recovery Requirements for the Project Mercury Atlas Test One," March 15, 1960, 

with enclosure. The aborted "Launch Operation Manual for Project Mercury," compiled 

by Dugald O. Black, A. M. Busch, A. M . 

Eiband, John Janokaitis, Jr., and approved by 

Scott H . Simpkinson, B. Porter Brown, and 

G. Merritt Preston at the Cape in March 

1960 is a rare but invaluable guide to its 

561 
operations at the Cape, see memo, Martin A. 

Byrnes for Assoc. Director, "Administrative 

Support for the STG Facilities at Cape Canaveral," March 4, 1960; and C. Frederick 

Matthews for staff, "Administrative Staff for 

Mercury Field Operation Organization," May 

9, 1960. 

(}8 Minutes, "Mercury Network Meeting," 

NASA/STG, Feb. 9, 1960; memo, Gilruth to 

Div. Chiefs, "Designation of Flight Controllers 

for Mercury Flight Operations," Feb. 8, 1960; 

memo, C. F. Matthews to all concerned, "Mercury Flight Controller Personnel Indoctrination and Training Plan Presentation," Feb. 

25, 1960; Williams, interview, Houston, Aug. 

23, 1965. See also Jim W. McCommis, draft 

Ms., "Flight Control Operations," for Mercury Technical History, Nov. 19, 1963. 

GO Memo, William W. Petynia to Chief, 

Flight Systems Div., "Summary Report of the 

Duties and Responsibilities of the STG Project Engineer During Capsule No. 1 CST," 

March 16, 1960. For the best overvievi of 

the status of the program as seen by the STG 

managers at the end of this period, see memo 

for files, Purser, "Additional Background Material on Project Mercury," May 11, 1960; d. 

Purser's similar memo, "General Background 

Material on Project Mercury," March 23, 

1959. 

70 See R. I. Johnson, et aI., "The MercuryRedstone Project," TMX531 07, MSFC Saturn/Apollo Systems Office, June 1964, 5-39, 

41; Ms., "Proceedings of the Mercury-Atlas 

Booster Reliability Workshop," Convair/Astronautics, San Diego, July 12, 1963, passim. 

See also ABMA/AOMC instructions, N. I. 

Reiter, Jr., "Mercury Project Symbol," Oct. 

7, 1959, Code AP 940-13, ORDAB-DY. 

7t Bernhard A. Hohmann, "Pilot Safety 

and Quality Assurance for Project Mercury," 

report No. STL-TR-60-0000-69047, Feb. 8, 

1960; [Kucheman, Henry B.], "Reference 

File, AFBMD Support, Project Mercury," 

bound folder of documents, Air Force Space 

Systems Div., El Segundo, Calif., Jan. 4, 1961, 

Sect. 5, Table 11; Osmond J. Ritland, interview, Andrews Air Force Base, Md., Dec. 30, 

1964. 

72Hohmann interviews; see p. 189. See 

also Simpkinson, interview, Houston, Oct. 4, 

1965, and papers from the period between 

562 

borne, Convair/Astronautics report N

27A515 R, Aug. 5,1960. 

73 "Reliability Program Review-Proje

Mercury," McDonnell Aircraft Corp., Feb. 2

1960; John C. French, interview, Housto

Aug. 3, 1964. For a retrospective view 

reliability in all of the Mercury program, s

Walter C. Williams, "On Murphy's Law," 

Paul Horowitz, ed., Manned SPace Reliabili

Symposium, Vol. I, American Astronautic

Society Science and Technology Series (Ne

York, 1964), 1-11. 

H Purser, log for Gilruth, Jan. 6, 196

Richard M. Mansfield, "Project Mercury R

visited," Virginian-Pilot and Portsmouth Sta

March 27, 1960; House Committee on Scien

and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 2 sess. (1960

Life Sciences and Space, Aug. 15, 1960, 1

Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Spa

Sciences, 86 Cong., 2 sess. (1960), Spa

Research in the Life Sciences. At this jun

ture, Astronauts Shepard and Grissom we

asking for permission to ride the next Little Jo

shot into space. Virgil I. Grissom, interview

Houston, March 29, 1965. 

7:; Purser, log for Gilruth, Feb. 9, 1960. S

also Robert L. Seat, interview, St. Louis, Sep

1, 1964; Seat and Waldram, "Project Me

cury Test Plan," McDonnell Aircraft Corp

Feb. 19, 1959. 

7G Purser, log for Gilruth with enclosure

agenda for conferences on reliability test pr

gram, March 9, 1960. Two other Chrysl

Corp. engineering executives responsible f

factory management of man-rating the Re

stone were Robert P. Erickson and Edward 

Dofter: H. D. Lowrey, interview, Washingto

Nov. 17, 1965. For details of the facto

test programs see R. M. Torigian, "Reliabili

Test of the Redstone A-7-1 Rocket Engin

RE 7112a," Chrysler Corp. Missile Divisio

Technical Memorandum ML-MI25, April 1

1960; and G. S. Upton, "Mercury-Redston

Aft Section Test Report," CCMD Technic

Report GLC-R5, Oct. 1960. 

71 Walter F. Burke, interview, Aug. 3

1964; MacMillan, interview, St. Louis, Sept. 

1964. See also minutes, Jerome B. Hammac

and Jack C. Heberlig, "ABMA-MAC-NAS

Panel No.1 Meeting," March 22, 1960; mem

Curtis L. Ferrell to Emil P. Bertram, MF

"Mercury-Redstone [capsule-booster docume
Participatian in CST at MAC," May 12, 1960. 

,u Merna, Silverstein to. Dir., Marshall Space 

Flight Center, "Mercury Capsule Prelaunch 

Operatians at Huntsville," March 29, 1960. 

A recent revisian af ABMA's checkaut plans 

had nat shawn much effart to. save time. Sec 

"Mercury Checkaut at Systems Analysis and 

Reliability Labaratary," ABMA-DOD Repart 

No.. DRT-TM-5-59, Aug. 13, 1959, Rev. A, 

March 5, 1960. 

so Merna, Silverstein to. Dir., Marshall Space 

Flight Center, "Review af Mercury Capsule 

Prelaunch Operatians at Huntsville," April 5, 

]960; Hause Cammittee an Science and Astranautics, 87 Cang., 1 sess. (1961), Defense 

Space Interests, Hearings, statement and dacuments, General Thamas D. White, USAF, 

91-97. 

&t Purser, "Nates an Manned Snac~ Flight 

Management Meeting, June 27-28,1961," 1,2. 

See also. Gilruth merna, "Organizatian af NASA 

Participatian in CST." 

'~Mema, Rabert E. McKann to. Chief, 

Flight Systems Div., "Visit to. STL, CV/ A, and 

Racketdyne (NAA) Feb. 15-18, 1960," Feb. 

29, 1960. See also. P. I. Harr, "Results af 

Reliability Evaluatian Test Pragram far 

Mercury-Atlas Abart Sensing and Implementatian System," Canvair/Astranautics repart No.. 

AX62-0008, April 24, 1962. 

~~ Merna, Edisan M. Fields to. Chief, Flight 

Systems Div., "Visit to. BMD/STL at Las 

Angeles," Jan. 19, 1960; letter, Hahmann to. 

Gilruth, March 25, 1960; letter, Williams to. 

Hahmann, April 18, 1960; Con variety, Feb. 17, 

1960. See also transcript, "Praceedings af the 

Mercury-Atlas Baaster Reliability Warkshap," 

San Diego., July 12,1963, passim. The reliability team at Canvair/Astranautics cansisted af 

factary manager J. P. Hapman, reliability chief 

H. F. Eppenstein, and quality cantral manager 

D. R. Archibald. Far similar cancerns an the 

Redstane, see me mas, Debus to. Earl M. Butler, 

"Weight and Balance Measurements an Praject 

Mercury," Dec. 23, 1959; and H. R. Palaara 

to. Butler, "Weight and Balance Measurement 

Requirements far Praject Mercury-Redstane," 

Feb. 16, 1960. 

"I "Status Report No.. 6 far Periad Ending 

April 30, 1960," STG; "MA-1 Repart No.. 3 

far Periad Ending Jan. 27, 1960," STG; 

"MA-1 Repart No.. 4 far Periad Ending Feb. 3, 

s:; Merna, Narth to. Dir., Space Flight Pragrams, "Request 'far Appraval af Mercury 

Funding," June 24, 1960. See also. Evert Clark, 

"NASA Centralizes Launch Management," 

Aviation Week, LXXII (May 30, 1960),28, 

29. 

su See Rabert L. Rashalt, An Administrative 

History of NASA, 1958-1963, NASA SP-4101 

( Washingtan, 1966), 154-160; merna, T. Keith 

Glennan to. Dir., "Appraisal af NASA's Cantractar Palicy and Industrial Relatians," Feb. 

29, 1960. Far an excellent averview af NASA 

palicies in general at this time, see the typescript, "Questians and Answers prapased far 

Cangressianal Testimany," by Hugh L. Dryden's staff, ca. May 1960. 

87 "Infarmatian Requested by McKinsey and 

Ca., Inc.," STG, April 9, 1960; letter, Gilruth 

to. Harry]. Gaett, Dir., Gaddard Space Flight 

Center, May 3, 1960. 

53 Rashalt, Administrative History of NASA, 

154, 101, 124; Rashalt has paraphras?d the 

McKinsey repart as fallaws (pp. 157-158): 

"The repart revealed that NASA's recard 

in supervising its au t-af-hause effarts was spatty. 

Difficulties had arisen because NASA neglected 

certain basic prerequisites to. effective cantractar 

supervision, such as adequate statements af 

wark, sufficient and flexible funding, and praperly facused technical respansibili ty. (A basic 

prablem in cannectian with the last named 

prerequisite was NASA's tendency to. establish 

twa channels af supervisian-ane fram headquarters, the ather fram the field center.) 

"NASA's supervisary jab was difficult in 

that it cauld neither use the 'trust the cantractar' appraach (high reliability was tao. crucial 

to be left to. the cantractar alane) nar the 

'tigh t cantral' appraach (which wauld 'discaurage cantractar creativity and initiative'). 

... Therefare NASA had to. fallaw a middle 

caurse, which cambined cantractar aperating 

freedam with clase NASA guidance. To. achieve 

this balance it wauld be essential that there be 

a canstant flaw af infarmatian back and farth 

between NASA and the contractar. This flaw 

cauld be pramated by periadic pragress review 

meetings between NASA and the cantractar, 

the placement af a NASA representative in 

the cantractar's plant (to. permi t can tinuaus 

face to. face cammunicatian), and the use af a 

pragress reparting sys tern." 

563 
Escape Tower Assembly," NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 202, July 3, 1961; 

"Review of Mercury Launch Abort System Experience ...," NASA general working paper 

No. 10,007, July 15, 1963. 

01 Memo, Bland for Fligh t System Division 

files, "Program Objectives," Sept. 30, 1959, 2. 

02 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961),A Chronology 

of Missile and Astronautic Events, March 8, 

1961, 114, 115. See also Charles S. Sheldon 

II, "The Challenge of International Competition," paper, third American Inst. of Aeronautics and Astronautics/NASA Manned Space 

Flight Meeting, Houston, Nov. 6, 1964, 10-11, 

reprinted and revised as Appendix A in Senate 

Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 

89 Cong., 1 sess. (1965), International Cooperation and Organization for Outer Space, 

427-477. 

Chapter IX 

1 Memos, George M. Low to Abe Silverstein, "Information for Program Management 

Plan Meeting," Oct. 6, 1960; T. Keith Glennan to Silverstein, July 11, 1960; Silverstein 

to Glennan, "MR-3 Launch Date," July 16, 

1960; Silverstein to Robert R. Gilru th, "MR-3 

Launch Schedule," July 25, 1960; Walter C. 

Williams to NASA Hq., International Programs Office, "Monthly Summary of Project 

Mercury Activities," Aug. 8, 1960; Warren ]. 

North, "History of Mercury Schedules: Earliest 

Possible Manned Flights," chart, Aug. 13, 

1960. See also Abe Silverstein, "Progress in 

Space Flight," Astronautics, V (Nov. 1960), 

24-25, 140-142. 

2 For the Report of the President's Commission on National Goals, see Henry M. 

Wriston, et aI., Goals for Americans (Englewood Cliffs, N.]., 1960). Notc especially the 

section by Warren Weaver, pp. 101-124, on 

"A Great Age for Sciencc." Cf.]. L. Penick, 

Jr., et aI., eds., The Politics of American Science: 7939 to the Present (Chicago, 1965), 

221. 

3 House Subcommittee of the Committee 

on Appropriations, 86 Cong., 1 sess. (1959), 

National Aeronautics and Space Administra564 

public opinion on American space polic

( 1957-1963) as a whole, see Vernon Va

Dyke, Pride and Power: The Rationale of th

Space Program (Urbana, 111., 1964). Eisen

hower's position is described on pp. 82-83

I Glennan's introspection on the role o

international competition was best expresse

in an address at a Yale University symposium 

on Oct. 7, 1960. See also letter, Glennan t

Eugene M. Emme, Oct. 19, 1965. For a

overview of Air Force programs, see Ernest G

Schwiebert, "USAF's Ballistic Missiles-1954

1964: A Concise History," A ir Force an

Space Digest, XLVII (May 1964),51-166

later published as A History of the U.S. Ai

Force Ballistic Missiles (New York, 1965). 

:; The best open monograph comparin

Soviet and American space accomplishment

is Charles S. Sheldon II, "The Challenge o

International Competition," paper, thir

American Inst. of Aeronautics and Astronau

tics/NASA Manned Space Flight Meeting

Houston, Nov. 6, 1964, revised and reprinte

in Senate Committee on Aeronautical an

Space Sciences, 89 Cong., 1 sess. (1965), In

ternational Cooperation and Organization fo

Outer Space, Appendix A, 427-477. 

G "Project Mercury Discussion," brochure

STG, June 20, 1960. See also memo, Diete

Grau to Dir., Guidance and Control Div

Marshall Space Flight Center, "Unsatisfactor

Condition on MR Abort Sensing System,

Oct. 11, 1960; minutes, "Resume of Mercury

Redstone Panel 2 Meeting," LOD-MSFC

Aug. 24, 1960. 

1 "Project Mercury Discussion," B-276

B-187, B-258, B--204; comments, William 

Underwood, Executive Sec. of CMLC, t

Eugene M: Emme, Nov. 1, 1965; draft Ms

B. Leon Hodge, et aI., "Recovery Operation

Portion," for Mercury Technical History

Aug. 1963. 

S NASA Contract No. NAS-190, "Relia

bility Study of Mercury Capsule System,

June 9, 1960, was signed by William P. Kelly

Jr., for the government and by D. P. Murray 

for McDonnell Aircraft Corp. 

o Nicholas E. Golovin, "An Approach to a 

Reliability Prediction Program," American 

Society for Quality Control. Transactions o

1960 Convention, San Francisco, May 25
10 

1960. "Old data and wrong ground rules 

gave bad figures from our standpoint," said 

Walter Williams in interview, Houston, Aug. 

23, 1965. Silverstein and Low tended to side 

with the working levels on this issue: see Low, 

comments, Oct. 5, 1965. 

Letter, Glennan to James S. McDonnell, 

Jr., June 30, 1960, with enclosure [from which 

next quotation is taken], "Proposed Work 

Statements for McDonnell on Mercury Capsule System Reliability," June 30, 1960, 2. 

11 Letter, McDonnell to Glennan, July 13, 

1960, NASA Central Files, Washington. Apparently Mr. McDonnell was unaware of the 

NASA-MAC reliability contr~ct NAS- 190. 

lZ Paul E. Purser, log for Gilruth, July 21 , 

1960 ; "Informal Reliability Discussion for 

STG by AAR Staff," July 21, 1960; Ms. notes 

on reliability meeting, Purser, July 21, 1960 ; 

F. John Bailey, Jr., interview, Houston, July 

16, 1964. For a later statement of Headquarters' policy see Landis S. Gephart, "NASA 

Requirements for Reliability and Quality Assurance," in Western Space Age Industries and 

Engineering Exposition and Conference: 

NASA Day, April 27, 1962, NASA SP-4 

(Washington, 1962) , 49-56. 

13 John C. French, interview, Houston, Aug. 

3, 1964; memo, Gephart to Everett W. Quintrell, "Background Information on Astronaut's 

Task Description and Performance Evaluation," Aug. 31,1960. Cf.letter, J. Y. Brown, 

Contract Manager, McDonnell Aircraft Corp. , 

to W. P. Kelly, Jr., NASA Contracting Officer, 

Aug. 24,1960. 

H See Low, comments, Oct. 5, 1965 ; Aleck 

C. Bond and Maxime A. Faget, Ms., "Technologies of Manned Space Systems," Chap. 

14, "The Role of Ground Testing in Manned 

Spacecraft Programs," 167-177. 

1:; Mercury operations were governed by the 

agreement "Overall Plan-Department of Defense Support for Project Mercury Operations," 

Jan. 15, 1960, but some of the difficulties in 

working out specific operational procedures at 

the Cape may be found in Francis E. Jarrett, 

Jr. , and Robert A. Lindemann, "Historical Origins of NASA's Launch Operations Center," 

Kennedy Space Center, Historical Monograph 

No.1 , Cocoa Beach, Fla. , Oct. 1964, 69-76. 

See also letters, Henry N. Moore to distribution, AFMTC, "NASA Organizational Changes 

10 J. F. Shields, personnel study chart, MSC 

Florida Operations, Jan. 4, 1964 ; G. Merritt 

Preston, interview, Cape Kennedy, April 29, 

1964 ; George F. Killmer, Jr., interview, Houston, Sept. 14, 1965. See also Ms. paper, Gilbert B. North, "Development and Checkout 

of the NASA Mercury Capsule," McDonnell 

Aircraft Corp. [ca. Sept. 1960]. 

17 John F. Yf\rdley, William Dubusker, interviews, St. Louis, Aug. 31, Sept. 1, 1964. See 

also Ms. paper, H . H . Leutjen, "Ground Checkout and Launch Procedures for Man-in-Space 

Operations," McDonnell Aircraft Corp. [ca. 

Aug. 1961]; McDonnell Aircraft Corp. interoffice memo, J. T. Dale to W. F. Burke, "Mercury-Redstone Panel I Meeting at MSFC on 

11 August 1960," Aug. 16, 1960. Field procurement was standardized to some extent by 

memo, Harold G. Collins to all Mercury Hangar 

S personnel, "Procurement Procedures on Contract NAS 5-59," Sept. 8, 1960. 

I S Project Orbit is not to be confused with 

Project Orbiter; see p . 29. Yardley, Robert 

L. Seat, interviews, St. Louis, Sept. I, 1964; 

memo, Lewis R . Fisher for 'Project Director, "Proposal for Environmental Qualification Test of Mercury Capsule," June 21, 1960; 

A. E. Wilkes, "Proposal for Full Scale Simulated Mission Test, Orbit Phase; Immediate 

Capabilities," McDonnell Aircraft Corp. report 

No. 7730, Aug. 29, 1960; memo, Floyd W. 

Fults to distribution, "Project Orbit Team 

Member's Responsibilities," McDonnell Aircraft Corp. memo No. PO-650-3, Feb. 2, 1961. 

For an overview of Project Orbit, see A. M . 

Paolini, "Evaluation of a Mercury Spacecraft 

in a Simulated Orbit Environment," McDonnell Aircraft Corp. preliminary report, May 29, 

1962. 

19 Gilruth quoted by John J. Williams and 

Donald M. Corcoran, "Mercury Spacecraft 

Pre-Launch Preparations at the Launch Site," 

paper, American Institute of Aeronautics and 

Astronautics, Space Flight Testing Conference, 

Cocoa Beach, Fla., March 18-20, 1963, 18. 

Cf. p. 28. See also draft Ms., Frank M. 

Crichton, "Quality Control and Inspection," 

for Project Mercury Technical History, July 3, 

1963. 

~o Bond and Faget, "Technologies of 

Manned Space Systems" ; Development Engineering Inspection Data Book, SEDR 183, Mc565 
21 

by Robert A. Hermann and Joe W. Dodson, 

"Project Orbit notes." 

21 Bailey interview ; Mss., "Briefings, NASAIndustry Apollo Technical Conference," July 

18, 1961; "Reliability and Flight Safety Problems," April 4, 1962, 8; "Reliability and Crew 

Safety in Manned Space Flight," Feb. 20, 1963; 

Bailey, "Review of Lessons Learned in the 

Mercury Program Relative to Spacecraft Design and Operations," paper, American Institute of Aeronautics and Astronautics Space 

Flight Testing Conference, Cocoa Beach, Fla., 

March 18, 1963. 

23 Abe Silverstein, interview, Cleveland, 

May 1, 1964; House Committee on Science and 

Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), Fourth 

Semiannual Report of the National Aeronautics 

and Space Administration, 208-209. 

23 Ms., Karl F. Greil, for Mercury Tech. 

History, "History of the Reaction Control System," July 1962, 160-161. Cf. 145, 67-68 

[English trans. by L. S. S.]. See also another 

draft Ms. by Norman B. Farmer, "Instrumentation," June 27, 1963, for some discussion of equally acute problems. 

See R. D. Korando, "Mercury Capsule 

No.7: Configuration Specification (MercuryRedstone No.3)," Report 603-7, McDonnell Aircraft Corp., Aug. 1, 1960, revised Nov. 

10,1960; R. F. Mackey, "General Flight Plan: 

Atlas Boosters for Project Mercury," Aerospace Corp. report AS-60-0000-0036, Sept. 

1960. 

2~ Memo, Faget to Flight Systems Div., 

"Mercury-Atlas Meeting on Feb. 26, 1960 at 

Space Technology Laboratories," March 4, 

1960,3. 

20 NASA News Release 60-233, "MA-l 

Capsule Instrumentation," undated ; memo, 

Charles J. Donlan to Langley Research Center, 

attention Clyde Thiele, "Inspection of MA-l 

Capsule," March 18, 1960; memo, R. E. McKann to Chief, Flight Systems Div., "Trip to 

Mercury Project Office at Patrick Air Force 

Base," April 14, 1960. The basic preflight 

documentation for MA-l is found in the following NASA Project Mercury working papers : "MA-l Mission Directive," No. 132, 

April 11 , 1960 ; "General Information for 

MA-l Recovery Force," No. 142, July 8, 1960; 

report, June 24, 1960. 

7 Letter, Walter Williams to Cdr., DesFlot

Four, March 15, 1960, with enclosure, "Tes

Objectives and Recovery Requirements for the 

Project Mercury Atlas Test One." 

~ Detailed descriptions of preflight opera

tions for all Mercury launches are summa

rized in Ms., George F. Killmer, Jr., et al.

"Mercury Technical History-Preflight Oper

ations," MSC Florida Operations, Dec . 30

1963. For MA-l , see pp. 68-71. For an 

overview of the coordination and cooperation 

mechanics among the Mercury-Atlas team, see 

letters, Silverstein to Courtland D . Perkins

Asst. Secy. of the Air Force (R and D) , Aug

26, 1960, and Gilruth to Silverstein, "Projec

Mercury Coordination between NASA- MAC 

and BMD-STL-Convair," Aug. 26, 1960, with 

enclosures. 

20 Memo, Low to Administrator, "Mercury

Atlas Test No.1," July 26, 1960. For th

more general "man-rating" procedures for the 

Atlas Booster about this time , see STL repor

TR-60-0000-69079, "Atlas Booster Fligh

Safety Review General Operating Procedure

and Organization," June 6, 1960. 

30 Memo, Low to Administrator, "Mercury

Atlas 1, Post-Launch Information," July 29

1960; see also Ms., "MA-l Operation

7/29/60," launch diary, anon. This same 

day George Low delivered a paper before the 

first NASA-Industry Conference that officially 

and publicly named for the first time "Projec

Apollo" as a manned lunar circumnavigation 

program for the future: see NASA-Industry 

Program Plans Conference, Washington, D.C.

July 28-29, 1960,80. 

31 Memo, North to Administrator, "Analysis of MA-l Malfunction," Aug. 22, 1960

See also Sally Anderson, ed., Final Repor

Mercury/ Atlas Launch Vehicle Program, Aerospace Corp. report No. TDR-269 (4101)-3

El Segundo, Calif., Nov. 1963, VIII-14. 

3~ Joseph A. Kies, Naval Research Laboratory, Washington, "Atlas-Mercury Failure: 

Examination of Failed Parts," report, Aug. 30

1960, 3; Andre J. Meyer, Jr., "Trip Report," 

Aug. 30, 1960. 

33 "Flight Test Report for Mercury-Atlas 

Mission No. 1 (capsule No.4) ," NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 159, Nov. 4

566 

y 

Robert C. Shirley, "Data Coordination," for 

Mercury Technical History, Part III, M ., July 

10,1963. 

31 Minutes, "Mercury-Atlas Coordination 

Panel, Sept. 14, 1960," Sigurd A. Sjoberg, secretary, with enclosures, Sept. 29, 1960. 

~ Transcript, "Press Group Interview with 

Gilruth, Williams," Oct. 26, 1960,2. Leading 

questions were asked by Douglas Dederer of 

the Cocoa (Fla.) Tribune. Gilruth also was 

reported to have said that he would not be 

surprised "to wake up any morning" to find 

the Soviets had accomplished manned orbital 

flight. Alvin B. Webb, Jr., Washington Post, 

Oct. 30, 1960. Webb also editorialized to 

say, "Mercury- named for a winged-footed 

Roman God-appears to have both feet in a 

molasses vat." House Committee on Science 

and Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), A 

Chronology of Missile and Astronautic Events, 

123, 124, 132; Sheldon, "The Challenge of 

International Competition," passim. 

30 For an overview of the parallel developmen t of this rocket research aircraft see 

Thomas A. Toll and Jack Fischel, "The X-15 

Project: Results and Research," Astronautics 

and Aeronautics, II (March 1960 ), 20-28. 

~7 Eugene M. Emme, Aeronautics and 

Astronautics: An American Chronology of 

Science and Technology in the Exploration of 

Space, 1915- 1960 (Washington, 1961) , 126­

130. 

38 Public Papers of the Presidents of the 

United States: Dwight D . Eisenhower, 1960­

61 (Washington, 1961),630; A Chronology 

of Missile and A stronautic E vents, 121, 123. 

See also Senate Committee on Aeronautical 

and Space Sciences, 88 Cong., 1 sess. (1963 ), 

Documents on International Aspe,cis of the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, 1954- 1962, 

May 9, 1963, 181. Eisenhower listed Pion eer 

V, Tiros I, Transit 1, Echo 1 and the X- 15 

flight in the "impressive array of successful experiments" during the year preceding Aug. 17, 

1960. He omitted mention of the first successful Polaris launches from the submerged 

nuclear submarine George Washingt,on, on 

July 20, for flights of over 1000 miles down the 

Atlantic Missile Range, and he also avoided 

publicizing the solid-fueled Minuteman missile 

and the SAMOS and MIDAS satellite programs. 

g, 

U.S. intelligence services that the ship, the 

Baltika, was equipped with mockups and 

demonstration equipment to advertise the 

Soviet feat in case they succeeded in an early 

attempt to put a cosmonaut in orbit. 

40 A Chronology of Missile and Astronautic 

Events, 129. See also Nancy T. Gamarra, "International Aeronautical Federation 

(FAI) ," section in Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 89 Cong., 1 sess. 

( 1965 ) , International Cooperation and Organization for Outer Space, 419-426. 

41 Silverstein quoted in news story in Newport News Times-Herald, Aug. 8, 1960. See 

also Brig. Gen. Thomas R. Phillips, "U.S. Out 

of Man-in-Space Race Until Saturn Is Ready 

in 1965," and "Criticism of Mercury Space 

Program Said to Lack Validity," St. Louis 

Post-Dispatch, Sept. 1 and 2, 1960; "Astronauts Hope for '61 Flight," New York Times, 

Sept. 19, 1960 ; "NASA's Chief Expects Red 

Space Shows," Baltimore Sun, Sept. 20, 1960 ; 

Warren Rogers, Jr., "Man-in-Space Effort by 

U.S. Rolls Again," New York Herald Tribune , 

Sept. 25, 1960. 

C Newsweek, LIV (Oct. 19, 1959) , 73-76. 

This magazine continued with blanket criticisms in LIV (Nov. 2, 1959),26; LV (Feb. 8, 

1960), 67- 68; LV (Feb. 15, 1960), 35 ; but 

a special report on the manned space race in 

Newswflek, LVI (July 11, 1960),55-59, was 

entitled "The Dawn," symbolizing better 

understanding of STG's efforts. 

4~ Hanson W. Baldwin, "Neglected Factor 

in the Space Race," New York Times Maga­

::ine, Jan. 17, 1960, 77; Arthur C. Clarke, 

"Rocket to the Renaissance," Playboy, VII 

(July 1960),34,84. 

41 James Barr, "Is Mercury Program 

Headed for Disaster?" Missiles and Rockets, 

VII (Aug. 15, 1960 ) , 12-14. See also Carl 

R. Huss, comments, Oct. 5, 1965. 

4,; Memo, Gilru th to staff, "Favorable Press 

Comments (for a change) ," with two enclosures, Sept. 16, 1960: Marvin Miles' article 

described the "recent splurge of sniping at the 

Ivfercury program," and Glennan's letter of 

August 26 commended the article "as a shot of 

adrenalin" for all the workers on Mercury. 

46 Memo, North to Administrator, "Background of Proj ect Mercury Schedules," with 

567 
of research and development, design, and 

manufacturing. As a result of this concurrent 

effort, many of the capsule subcontractors 

underestimated their costs and delivery dates. 

As early as October 1959, McDonnell anticipated cost increases ranging from 200% to 

450% from some of their major subcontractors, 

such as Bell Aircraft, AiResearch, Collins Radio, and Grand Cen tral Rocket. 

"Because of different flight test objectives, 

it is possible to fly some of the early capsules 

with incomplete and unqualified systems. 

"From the standpoint of project urgency, it 

was consistent policy to set. . . classified target schedules as tight as possible.... However, since problem areas cannot be pinpointed 

in advance, it was felt that the project objectives could be most rapidly achieved by purposely setting optimistic target schedules and 

keeping everyone working to meet these 

dates.. .. 

"One is tempted to extrapolate .. . thereby obtaining May 1961 and November 1961, 

as the actual launch dates for the manned Redstone and manned orbital flights. It is hoped, 

however, that based on past experience, subsequent capsules can be more accurately 

scheduled through capsule systems checkout. 

Conversely, it must also be remembered that 

as yet none of the production capsules have 

been qualified during the maximum Q abort 

and reentry missions." 

47 Low, "Project Mercury Progress," an address before UPI Editors Conference, Washington, Sept. 9, 1960, NASA News Release 60­

275; Low, comments, Oct. 5, 1965. 

48 For the significance of the AACB, see 

Robert L. Rosholt, An Administrative History 

of NASA, 1958 to 1963, NASA SP-4101 

(Washington, 1966), 172-173; see also NASA 

News Release 60-260, Sept. 13, 1960. 

40 Richard M. Mansfield, "Project Mercury: 

Race or Pure Science?" Vir ginian-Pilot and 

Portsmouth Star, Sept. 11, 1960. 

50 "An Open Letter to Richard Nixon and 

John Kennedy," Missiles and Rockets, VII 

(Oct. 3,1960),10-11; John F. Kennedy, "If 

the Soviets Control Space They Can Control 

Earth," Missiles and Rockets, VII (Oct. 10, 

1960), 12-13; "Nixon 'Declines' to Join De

Industries (Nov. 1960). See also Edward C

Welsh, interview, Washington, Sept. 1, 1965

51 See Robert Hotz, editorial, "The Gather

ing Storm Over Space," Aviation Week

LXXIII (Nov. 7, 1960), 21; and "Sharp De

fense/Space Changes Expected," Aviation 

Week, LXXIII (Nov. 14, 1960), 30. 

52 Hans W. Gatzke, The Present in Perspec

tive: A Look at the World Since 1945 (2 cd.

Chicago, 1961 ) , 188. Sec also Philip C

Jessup and Howard J. Taubenfeld, Controls 

for Outer Space and the Antarctic Analogy 

(New York, 1959),200,282. 

53 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 86 Cong., 2 sess. (1960), The Prac

tical Values of Space Exploration, Report No

2091 , July 5, 1960, 1. Cf. revision as House 

Report No. 1276, Oct. 2, 1961,20-22. 

54 Ibid., 54. Aside from the better illustrations and the updated figures on space costs 

and accomplishments, the August 1961 revision 

of this report contained one significant addition, namely a two-page (20-22) discussion in 

the national security section entitled "Interpreting The Race," which said in part: 

"The fact that we are racing the Russians 

to the moon and the planets should not be 

allowed to obscure certain facets of the precise 

situation we are in. 

"To begin with, it is essential to realize 

that sending men beyond earth's environment 

requires rockets of very high thrust-big 

boosters. The Soviets, who have about a 5­

year jump on the United States in this field, 

have such rockets in operation. Our bigges

ones are still in the development stage, although they are showing considerable promise. So we begin this particular phase of 

'the race' under a marked handicap and 

doubtless will be in second place for some 

time to come. 

"It is equally important, however, to 

recognize that 'getting there first' is only one 

part of the race. Two other parts are just as 

crucial: 

1. What will we learn from our effort to 

explore beyond the Earth? 

2. How will we use this knowledge after 

it 	 is acquired? 

"The Vikings had the technique to get to 

568 

American effort has- thus far at least-been 

outstanding in its scientific results. 'And, as 

subsequent parts of this report suggest, our 

free enterprise system has been quick to take 

advantage of the technological fall out. 

"In summary, our international prestige 

and stature, so far as they are influenced by our 

space activities, depend on all three elements 

of 'the race'- not on one or two." 

oj Memo, Benjamine J. Garland to Project 

Director, "Possible Meteoroid Damage to Mercury," with enclosure, June 2, 1960, 3. 

;;6 Letter, Smith J. DeFrance to Alan B. 

Kehlet, "Information Requested by STG on 

Pressure Transducers and an Auxiliary Drag 

Device for Mercury," with enclosures, Sept. 16, 

1960; memo, Caldwell C. Johnson to Faget, 

"Auxiliary Drag Device-Mercury," Nov. 2, 

1960; John P. Mayer, comments, Sept. 8, 1965 . 

Back in 1957 Avco had proposed a metallic 

drag chute shuttlecock configuration for the 

same purpose for the Air Force Man-in-Space 

studies. See also "Summary of Several Short 

Studies Pertaining to the Retro-Rocket System 

Capabilities for the Mercury Mission," NASA 

Project Mercury working paper No. 160, 

Nov. 9, 1960. 

:;7 The reinstateme-nt of development work 

on the pneumatic impact bag followed after 

Gerard J . Pesman learned the details of more 

experiments on human impact at Wright-Patterson late in 1960. For a resume of this work 

see J. W. Brinkley, R. A. Headley, and K. K . 

Kaiser, "Abrupt Acceleration of Human Subjects in the Semi-Supine Position," paper, 

Symposium on Bio-Mechanics of Body Restraint and Head Protection, Naval Air Materiels Center, Philadelphia, Pa., June 14- 15, 

1961 . 

~,~ Memo, Peter J. Armitage and E. N. Harrin to Chief, Operations Div., "Mercury Capsule Water Stability," Oct. 31, 1960. 

;;n Memo, Harrin to Chief, Operations Div., 

"Static Water Stability Tests of Personal Egress 

Capsule, " Jan. 10, 1961. 

6(1 "Project Mercury Status Report No.8 for 

Period Ending October 31, 1960," STG, 17­

18; "Astronaut Preparation and Activities 

Manual for Mercury-Redstone No. 3," NASA 

Project Mercury working paper No. 174, Feb. 

6, 1961. 

61 Memo, Yardley and G. M. Preston to 

difficulties with electrical, piping, sequencin

inspection, and cleanliness problems, see dra

memo by H . Earle Moore and Walter F

Burke, "Quality Assurance-Project Me

cury," Sept. 12 , 1960. 

lie Memo, Richard Sachen and James T

Rose to W. H . Gray, "General Summary o

Capsule Systems Tests on Capsule No.7

Dec. 1, 1960, with enclosures. Convai

Astronautics had encountered the skin-crackin

problem in 1955 during the Atlas developmen

program. At that time no solution had bee

discovered. 

,;:; Memo, Jerome B. Hammack and Rose t

W. H. Gray, "General Summary of Capsul

Systems Tests on Capsule No.7," Dec. 1,196

5, 6. This memo, with enclosures 1-17, giv

a detailed engineering history of the problem

encoun tered during the systems testing of th

first manned Mercury capsule. Althoug

STG inspectors found 189 electrical and me

chanical discrepancies in their final acceptanc

test, MAC's own inspectors had listed som

370 such discrepancies before their final clean

up prior to delivery. 

G.; See Leutje-n, "Ground Checkout an

Launch Procedures," 3. Revised procedure

for expediting checkout "squawk sheets" an

discrepancy reports were issued shortly there

after: see memo, Yardley and Preston t

Hangar S Supervisors, "Cape Inspectio

Policy Clarification," Oct. 20, 1960. 

63 Letter, Williams to Commanding Office

Air Force Missile Test Center, attention L

Col. R. D. Stephens, Sept. 6, 1960; "T-60

Operation, MR Mission," STG, Sept. 8, 1960

"MR-1 Mission Rules," STG, Nov. 2, 1960

letter, Williams to Kurt H . Debus, "Fligh

Safety Review for MR Missions," Sept. 22

1960, with enclosure, "Flight Safety Review 

Plan"; letter, Williams to Cdr. DesFlotFou

"NASA Personnel Assignment for MR-

Test," Sept. 28, 1960, with enclosures

memos, Low to Administrator, "Tests of Mer

cury Redstone 1 and Little Joe 5," Nov. 2

1960 ; and "LJ-5 and MR-1 launchings,

Nov. 4, 1960; Williams, Management Memo

randum, No. 13, "Working Hours, Launc

Operations Branch," Oct. 5, 1960. 

RU Letter, James p , Gleason to Kenneth E

BeLieu, Nov. 7, 1960. For one source of thi

concern, see Drew Pearson, "Space Sho

569 
jy gp

Little Joe Mission No. 5 (capsule No.3)," 

NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 166, 

Dec. 23,1960; letter, Williams to RIA F. V. H. 

Hilles, Dec. 14, 1960; memo, Low for Administrator, "Report on Little Joe No. 5 and 

Mercury Redstone No.1," Nov. 10, 1960. See 

also Fisher, comments, Sept. 15, 1965. 

60 Memo, North to Dir., Space Flight Programs, "Project Mercury PMP Charts," Sept. 

21, 1960, explains why the chimp was eliminated from LJ-5. John C. Palmer, "Test 

Directive for Little Joe V," approved countdown procedures, undated. See also minutes, 

"Little Joe V AeroMedical Operations Review 

Meeting," Richard S. Johnston, secretary, July 

12, 1960; "Mission Document for Little Joe 

No.5 (Capsule No.3)," NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 121, May 25, 1960. 

10 Low memo, Nov. 10, 1960; memo, Low 

to Asst. Administrator for Congressional Relations, "Mercury Redstone and Little Joe 5 

Launchings," Nov. 16, 1960. The additional 

Little Joe airframe was suggested by Silverstein. Memos, William M. Bland, Jr., to 

Faget, "Visit of representatives of NAA-MD 

to STG," Feb. 1, 1960, and "Further Development of Little Joe Booster," Feb. 8, 1960; 

North to Silverstein, "Request for Approval 

Project Mercury Funding," June 27, 1960; Silverstein to Budget Office, "Budget on Approval 

of Project MerculY Funding," June 29, 19-60. 

Cf. memo, C. J. Donlan to LRC Procurement 

Officer, "Contract NAS 9-59, Refurbished Little Joe Static Booster, Expedited Delivery," 

Nov. 16, 1960. 

11 Memo, Johnson to Faget, "Mercury 

Weight Growth-Effect upon Orbit Insertion 

Probability, Retrograde Maneuver, Parachute 

Loads, and Flotation," Nov. 22, 1960, 1-3. 

Johnson speculated on possibili ties: 

"The really interesting scheme requires 

starting all over. Consider six (6) Pioneer or 

Explorer second stage motors clustered together as a posigrade-retrograde power 

pack.... 

"On the subj ect of parachu tes and weigh ts: 

it is quite likely that the impact skirt system 

and its associated 100 pounds of weight could 

be eliminated if the capsule impact attitude 

could be restricted to 'pilot feet first' and 

For the description of events following, see 

memos, Low to Administrator, "MR-l Launching," Nov. 7, 1960; Low to Dir., Space Flight 

Programs, "Mercury-Redstone 1 Launching," 

Nov. 14, 1960; Low to Administrator, "MR-l 

Launching," Nov. 18, 1960. 

13 For news criticism in the wake of MR-l, 

see William Hines, "Mercury Failure Puts 

Early Flight in Doubt," Washington Evening 

Star, Nov. 21, 1960; "Astronaut Flight Still 

Slated in '61," New York Times, Nov. 26, 

1960; Louis Kraar, "Man in Space Tests Far 

Behind Schedule," Wall Street Journal, Nov. 

28, 1960; and "Space Experts Sniping at 

Mercury," Space Age News, Nov. 21, 1960. 

H Memo, Low to Administrator, "Attempted Launching of MR-l ," Nov. 21, 1960; 

Hammack, interview, Houston, Feb. 13, 1964; 

and memo report, Hammack for Proj. Dir., 

"Attempted Launch of Mercury-Redstone No. 

1 Mission on November 21, 1960," Nov. 23, 

1960. 

1~ Memo, Low to Administrator, "Explanation of MR-l Failure," Nov. 23, 1960; Joachim P. Kuettner, interview, Huntsville, April 

28, 1964. 

16 Memo, Low to Dir., Space Flight Programs, "PMP Briefing on December 2, 1960, 

Project Mercury," Nov. 28, 1960; and Low 

comments. 

11 Memo, Low to Administrator, "MR-l 

Launch Information," Dec. 15, 1960. For retest preparations, see "Mercury-Redstone, 

NASA, LOD-LOB, Master Operational Schedule," rev. Nov. 15, 1960, for MR-l, Report 

No. M-LOD-G-TR-49.4-60; rev. Dec. 2, 

1960, for MR-IA, Marshall Space Flight Center. Ms., "MR-IA Review," STG, Dec. 17, 

1960. 

18 Memo, Low to Administrator, "MercuryRedstone 1 Launching," Dec. 20, 1960. See 

also Jerome B. Hammack and Jack C. Heberlig, "The Mercury Redstone Program," paper, 

American Rocket Society, Space Flight Report 

to the Nation, New York City, Oct. 9-15, 1961, 

16-17. 

70 Memos, Howard C. Kyle to Mercury 

Flight Dir., "MR-l Launch on December 19, 

1960-observations"; Tecwyn Roberts to Flight 

Dir., "Report on Test No. 5111," Dec. 20, 

1960; and Stanley C. White to Flight Dir., 

570 
Two, Jan. 31, 1961, with two enclosures. 

See also Chap. X, footnote 26 . 

'0 Memo, North to Dir., Space Flight Programs, "Mercury Capsule Changes and Flight 

Schedule," Dec. 6, 1960: 

"Open loop operation of the Abort Sensing 

and Implementation System (ASIS) is a 

change which does not detract from the effectivity of the system. This change, in fact, 

makes the system more reliable and effective 

because a pilot who is placed in the con trolloop 

has the ability to assess whether a true abort 

situation exists. In this concept, the pilot would 

get a red light indication that an abort is called 

for but would manually activate the escape 

sequence. The inherent aerodynamic stability 

and high structural strength of the Redstone 

should provide a sufficient time constant between capsule abort light indication and time 

for abort decision. The pilot, after observing 

the abort light, can either immediately abort, 

if he is in a critical flight regime, or he can 

rely on secondary cues such as changes in acceleration, changes in attitude, and radio voice 

transmissions from visual observers or telemeter 

monitors. Although it is reasonably clear that 

the Redstone should be flown with an open 

loop ASIS, the Atlas operational procedure is 

not yet resolved because allowable pilot reaction time will be somewhat less. I feel , however, that experience with the manned Redstone will convince us that the manned Atlas 

should also be flown open loop. Incidentally, 

three Atlas ASIS systems have been flown open 

loop to date; two would have caused inadvertent aborts." 

Warren North was himself a test-pilot engineer, and this viewpoint becar:ne even stronger 

over the next year; see North and Walter 

Williams, "The NASA Astronaut Program," 

Aerospace Engineering, XX (Jan. 1962), 

13-15. 

8t For an overview of the meetings and conferences on the MA-l failure, see James M. 

Grimwood, Project Mercury : A Chronology, 

NASA SP-4001 (Washington, 1963), 111, 

112. On the MA-1 review of Nov. 16, 1960, 

see "Mercury-Atlas Program," briefing brochure Nos. AD- 60-0000-02356 and AT-60­

0829-00415, undated. Minutes, "Summary 

of Test Programs and Recommendations for 

MA-2 Launch," Sjoberg, secretary, Nov. 16, 

1960; Ms. notes, Purser, "STG Position on 

y ,, ; 

Rhode, interview, Washington, Jan. 18, 1966. 

~ A Chronology of Missile and Astronautics 

Events, 135 ; Sheldon, "The Challenge of International Competition," 11 , 26, and comments, Aug. 12, 1965. 

&3 G. Pokrovsky, "We Give Space to the 

Russians," Washington Daily News, Dec . 5, 

1960; "Lead-Footed Mercury," Time, Dec. 5, 

1960 ; "Man in Space," editorial, New York 

Times, Dec. 2, 1960. 

Chapter X 

I NASA Fifth Semiannual Report to Congress, October I, 1960, through June 30,1961, 

153. This report, not published until July 11, 

1962, is highly anachronistic (see pp. 5, 6) 

and should be used with caution. See also 

memo, Aaron Rosenthal to Dir., Office of 

Space Flight Programs, "Temporary Reassignment of lvIadpower Spaces," with enclosures 

on STG compl ement requirement for fiscal 

1962, Dec. 5, 1960. 

2 Eugene M. Emme, Aeronautics and Astronautics: An American Chronology of Science 

and Technology in the Exploration of Space, 

1915- 1960 (Washington, 1961), 134, 139­

151; STL Space Log (Jan. 1961),24,3-8. 

Charles S. Sheldon II has corrected the poundage figures in terms of lifting capacity to 100 

nautical mile altitude. Official comparisons 

sometimes unfairly counted the weights of 

U.S. rocket casings and not those of U .S.S.R . 

casings. 

3 Senate Committee on Aeronautical and 

Space Sciences, 88 Cong., 1 sess. (1963) , Documents on International Aspects of the Exploration and Use of Outer Space, 1954- 1962, May 

9,1963,186. 

~ The informant was Lt. Col. Paul D. 

Hickman, of the Armed Forces Industrial College. See House Committee on Science and 

Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), A 

Chronology of Missile and Astronautics 

Events, 139-140; House Committee on Science 

and Astronautics, 87 Cong., 2 sess. ( 1962), 

Aeronautical and Astronautical Events of 

1961,1-2; and "U.S. Officer Says 2 Reds Died 

in Space," Newport News Daily Press, Jan. 15, 

1961. Soviet spokesmen later denied this report, of course, and most informed American 

opinion credits the Soviet denial. Two 

571 
Record on Aug. 6, 1965: "Open Versus Secret 

Procedures in Space Programs," pp. 18813­

18814. 

;; Documents on International Aspects 

of ... Outer Space, 188. For some perspective on the larger interregnum and the search 

for a national space program between 1958 

and 1962, see House Committee on Government Operations, 89 Cong., 1 sess. (1965), 

Government Operations in Space (Analysis 

of Civil-Military Roles and Relationships), 

49-71. 

G Ms., "Report to the President-Elect of 

the Ad Hoc Comm:ttee on Space," Jerome B. 

Wies.ner, chairman (unclassified version), Jan. 

12,1961,11, 12. 

7 Ms., "Report to the President-Elect of the 

Ad Hoc Committee on Space," Wiesner, chairman (classified version), Jan. 10, 1961, 17. 

The other members of this committee were 

Kenneth BeLieu, Trevor Gardner, Donald F. 

Hornig, Edwin H . Land, Max Lehrer, Edward 

M . Purcell, Bruno B. Rossi, and Harry J. 

Watters. 

8 At a press conference on Oct. 26, 1960, 

Robert R. Gilruth was asked about the pos­

~ibility of using the Titan rather than the 

Atlas for orbital flight. Gilruth said he 

preferred the Atlas, pointing out that the technical problems connected with it were being 

solved , whereas those associated with the Titan 

were nowhere near solution. The fact that 

the second stage of the two-stage Titan ignited 

in flight presented additional problems to 

orbital flight, he said. In contrast all three 

Atlas engines ignited at liftoff. Gilruth 

actually drafted a letter intended for Maj. Gen. 

Osmond J. Ritland, commander of the Air 

Force Ballistic Missile Division, asking for a 

briefing on the possible application of the Titan 

to the Mercury program. The letter (Gilruth 

to Ritland, Jan. 18, 1961) was never mailed, 

primarily because the conceptual developmen t 

of the follow-on program after Mercury was 

beginning to take shape. In May 1961 Robert 

C. Seamans was sold on the Titan II as a 

launch vehicle for Mercury Mark II, and 

thereafter NASA and DOD agreed to support 

each other's use of Titan II and III respectively; Seamans, interview, Washington, Sept. 

1, 1965. 

572 

g

19, 1964. 

)0 Washington Post, Jan.' 12, 1961; "Washington Roundup," Aviation Week, LXXIV 

(Feb. 6, 1961), 5; Washington Evening Star, 

Jan. 12, 1961 ; Newport News Daily Press, 

Jan. 27, 1961. The Wiesner Report admitted 

that the commi ttee's review of the nation's 

space program had been made hastily. 

Jl Public Papers of the Presidents of the 

United States: Dwight D. Eisenhower, 1960-61 

(Washington, 1961) , Item 421,1038, "Farewell Radio and Television Address to the 

American People," Jan. 17,1961. Eisenhower 

had warned: "In the councils of government, 

we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. 

The poten tial for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists and will persist .... We 

must never let the weight of this combination endanger our liberties or democratic 

processes. . . ." 

12 On the "military-industrial complex" 

problem, see George T. Hayes, ed., The Industry-Government Aerospace Relationship, 

2 vols. (Menlo Park, Calif., May 1963), Stanford Research Institute Project No. IS-4216; 

Robert Hotz, "Gathering Storm Over Space," 

Aviation Week, LXXIII (Nov. 7, 1960),21; 

Hotz, "Sharp Defense/Space Changes Expected," Aviation Week, LXXIII (Nov. 14, 

1960), 30-31. See other articles in Aviation 

Week, LXXIV (Jan. 16,1961),21; (Jan. 30, 

1961),21,34; Robert L. Rosholt, An Administrative History of NASA, 1958-1963, NASA 

SP-4101 (Washington, 1966), 184; House 

Committee on Science and Astronautics, 87 

Cong., 1 sess. (1961), Military Astronautics 

(Preliminary Report), Staff report No. 360, 

May 4, 1961. 

13 For some of the scientists' criticism of 

Mercury, see Jay Holmes, America on the 

Moon: The Enterprise of the Sixties (New 

York, 1961), 72-82. The most prevalent 

scientific objection to Mercury was expressed 

by the question "Why put the sensitive stomach and heart of a man out in space when his 

other senses can be sent out there with man 

staying on the ground but in the loop?" 

Douglas R. Lord, interview, Washington, 

Sept. 3, 1965. 
y f 

190-195 for more details on the extremely complex financial history of NASA during this 

period. See also Merton J. Peck and Frederic 

M. Scherer, The Weapons Acquisition Process: An Economic Analysis (Boston, 1962), 

100. It is perhaps significant that what purports to be a House Committee on Science 

and Astronautics manuscript, entitled "Project 

Mercury: A Preliminary Progress Report," 

dated October 1960, accurately estimated (at 

last) a completion cost for Project Mercury 

at $393 million, of which approximately $110 

million would be spen t on the McDonnell 

contract for the spacecraft. 

15 "Interim Report," Joint Air Force/NASA 

Ad Hoc Committee on Atlas Boosted Space 

Systems, Jan. 19, 1961. Richard V. Rhode, 

interview, Washington, Dec. 30, 1964; Bernhard A. Hohmann, interview, Houston, Sept. 

16, 1965. Richard V. Rhode pursued the 

method with which the Atlas contractor would 

fit the "belly band" to the booster's top sections, since there were small metal appendages 

that would have to be ground flush to the 

booster's surface. He was particularly interested in how they would prevent the metal 

from being undercut and thereby weakening 

the structural strength even more. General 

Dynamics responded that they had a technician 

with capability to prevent undercutting. 

Rhode asked to be shown. After seeing the 

proof, he directed that this individual be sent 

to the Cape to perform this part of the "fix." 

Rhode, interview, Washington, Jan. 18, 1965. 

lij Letter, Purser to Rhode, Jan. 10, 1961; 

Ms. notes, Purser, "STG-773, 67-D Instrumentation," Jan. 3, 1961; Ms., "AgendaAbort Parameters," Jan. 4, 1961. Seamans 

and Abe Silverstein of NASA Headquarters; 

James R. Dempsey of Convair/Astronautics, 

and the Secretaries of the Air Force and the 

Department of Defense were all involved in 

telephonic conferences behind the scenes on 

the MA-2 decisions. For the final decision 

to go with the "horse collar," see Ms., Purser, 

"Notes for Rhode Committee: Status of 

MA-2," Feb. 13, 1961. 

11 Rhode, "The First Hundred Seconds," 

paper, American Rocket Society Conference 

on Launch Vehicle Structures and Materials, 

April 3, 1962. Rhode here applied his experience with the Electra and the Atlas to 

18 Holmes, America on the Moon, 189-190

Hotz, "New Vigor for Space Program," Avia

tion Week, LXXIV (Jan 16, 1961), 21. 

19 James E. Webb, interview, Washington

Sept. 3, 1965; Webb, address before Scienc

Convocation at Brandeis University, Wal

tham, Mass., Nov. 7, 1965, NASA News Re

lease. See also "Washington Roundup," Avi

ation Week, LXXIV (Jan. 30,1961),21. 

20 Holmes, America on the Moon, 190-192

Senate Committee on Astronautical and Spac

Sciences, 88 Cong., 1 sess. (1963), NASA Au

thorization for Fiscal Year 1964, Hearings

Part I, 5-6; NASA biography of James E

Webb, Jan. 27, 1964. For details of Webb'

background, see Senate Committee on Aero

nautical and Space Sciences, 87 Cong., 1 sess

(1961), Nomination of James Edwin Webb to 

be Administrator of the National Aeronautic

and Space Administration. 

~l "Washington Roundup," Aviation Week

LXXIV (Jan. 30, 1961),21; "Kennedy Ap

points Webb to Direct NASA," Aviation 

Week, LXXIV (Feb. 6, 1961), 29; Hotz, "Suc

cess and Disappointment in Space," Aviatio

Week, LXXIV (Feb. 6, 1961), 21; Newpor

News Daily Press, Feb. 5, 1961; Holmes

America on the Moon, 192. Webb's appoint

ment was confirmed by the Senate on Feb. 9

and he was sworn in on Feb. 15, 1961. 

22 Letter, Overton Brooks to John F

Kennedy, March 9, 1961; Kennedy to Brooks

March 23, 1961; see also "Washington Round

up," Aviation Week, LXXIV (Jan. 16,1961)

25; "Cooperation Theme is Stressed by NASA 

and Defense Officials," Aviation Week

LXXIV (Jan. 30, 1961),34; and "Washing

ton Roundup," Aviation Week, LXXIV (Feb

6,1961),25. 

2.1 Excerpts from messages compiled by 

Purser, special assistant to director, STG, re 

status of spacecraft No.5. During one of the 

McDonnell tests, when the air leakage rate 

was being checked, the inspectors found tha

gas seepage was too great. The best seal they 

could obtain left a leakage rate of 1725 cc.

min. at 4.9 p.s.i. for 45 minutes, as agains

the specified maximum rate of 650 cc. The 

defect causing this was found at the umbilica

connector and traced to warpage of the eap

sule frame. McDonnell reworked the strut

and stringers to make a better fit. This is bu

573 
y

gy

"Capsule Leakage Rates," July 5, 1960. 

~I Message, John J. Williams, Launch 

Operations, Marshall Space Flight Center, to 

G. Merritt Preston, STG Cape Operations, 

Oct. 4, 1960; "Postlaunch Report for Mercury-Redstone No.2 (MR-2) ," NASA/STG, 

Feb. 13, 1961; NASA News Release 61-14-1, 

"Project Mercury Background," Jan. 28, 1961. 

For the MR-2 mission directive, see NASA 

Project Mercury working paper No. 138, dated 

Apr. 15, 1960, rev. Nov. 29, 1960, and Jan. 27, 

1961. 

~;; David S. Akens, Paul K. Freiwirth, and 

Helen T. Wells, History of the George C. Marshall Space Flight Center (Huntsville, Ala., 

May 1961), Vol. I, Appendix B, "MercuryRedstone Chronology," 28, 32; Francis E. 

Jarrett, Jr., and Robert A. Lindemann, "Historical Origins of NASA's Launch Operations 

Center to July 1, 1962," Kennedy Space Center Historical Monograph No.1, Cocoa Beach, 

Fla., Oct. 1964, B-26. 

~o Akens, Freiwirth, and Wells, History of 

Marshall Space Flight Center) Vol. I, 32; 

memo, E. D. Geissler, Aeroballistics Div., Marshall Space Flight Center, to STG, "Project 

Mercury-Redstone: Trajectory Data for MR2," Jan. 23, 1961; memo, Walter C. Williams, 

Operations Dir., STG, to Marshall Space 

Flight Center, "Launch Trajectories for MR-2 

and Subsequent Flight," Dec. 20, 1960; "Technical Information Summary of Mercury-Redstone Mission MR-2," Marshall Space Flight 

Center, Jan. 20, 1961. Williams' 12-g nominal 

reen try decelera tions were not connected wi th 

the 12-g emergency maximum advocated by 

the Air Force in 1958 for the "man-in-space" 

study program. The 12-g maximum desired 

for the MR-2 mission was set for two reasons: 

(1) It represented the midway point between a 

normal Mercury-Atlas reentry (about 8 g) and 

the worst Mercury-Atlas reentry (about 16 g) ; 

and (2) normal reentry for the Mercury-Redstone was about 11 to 12 g. STG felt it was 

necessary to study the g-load effects on the 

chimpanzee in this range. The fact that both 

acceleration and deceleration g loads surpassed 

12 served to prove the supine couch concept. 

2; "Project Mercury Technical Information 

Summary of Mercury-Redstone Mission No.2 

(Capsule No.5)," NASA/STG, Jan. 24,1961; 

574 

Flight Program," Jan. 28, 1961; "Information 

Guide for Animal Launching," July 23, 1959; 

"Countdown and Procedures (Animal Subject) 

for Project Mercury Flight MR-2," USAF 

Aeromedical Field Laboratory, Holloman Air 

Force Base, N. Mex., Dec. 1960. 

~n Norman E. Stingely, John D. Mosely, and 

Charles D. Wheelwright, "MR-2 Operations," 

in Results of the Project Mercury Ballistic and 

Orbital Chimpanzee Flights) NASA SP-39 

(Washington, 1963),7. 

~o "Recovery Operations Requirements for 

Mercury-Redstone Test No.2," STG, undated 

[about Jan. 12, 1961]; "Mercury Recovery 

Forces," NASA fact sheet, undated; Message, 

Cdr., DesFlotFour, to STG, "Public Information for MR-2," Jan. 5, 1961. The helicopters 

were from Marine Aircraft Group 26, the Mercury project officer of which was 1st Lt. Wayne 

E. Koons, USMCR. 

Jt Letter, Walter Williams, STG, to Cdr., 

DesFlotFour, re NASA personnel assignment 

for MR-2 test, Jan. 6, 1961. 

3:) "Master Operational Schedule, MR-2," 

Marshall Space Flight Center, Jan. 20, 1961, 

5-26,27-30,32-47,48-77; Final Report: Mercury-Redstone Project Launch Operations) 

Marshall Space Flight Center, May 28, 1962, 

121, Appendix L, "MR-2 Daily Log Summary," 1-4. 

::~ "MR-2 Flight Test Profile-Operations 

Directive No. 1904, Mercury - Redstone 

Launch," Air Force Missile Test Center, Jan. 

5, 1961,4-10. 

::~ Ibid. Ham's depth of respiration was 

measured by a pneumograph consisting of a 

rubber tube filled with copper sulfate solution. 

Electrical resistance of the solution varied as 

the tube was stretched. At one point during 

the testing of sensors for measuring the primate's respiration, technicians discovered that 

when the pneumograph was attached high on 

the thorax, the chimp breathed low and vice 

versa. One solution was to use two pnuemograph straps in conjunction. Results of 

the Project Mercury Ballistic and Orbital Chimpanzee Flights; A. D. Catterson, MSC Medical 

Support Operations, interview, Houston, Oct. 

23, 1964. 

3:; "Countdown and Procedures (Animal 

Subject) for MR-2"; "Animal Flight Pro­
at a eedg. Oe ouce sevg was gve

at about T minus 20 hours and another at T 

minus 15 hours. Water intake was limited to 

800 cc. from T minus one day through recovcry. The name "Ham" also honored the commander of Holloman Aeromedical Laboratory, 

Lt. Col. Hamilton Blackshear. 

a& "MR-2 Flight Test Profile-Directive 

1904." Staff members under the operations 

director had a variety of duties and responsibilities. For example, the launch director, 

located in the blockhouse, reported on the 

readiness of the launch vehicle; the launch 

conductor, also in the blockhouse, was responsible for detailed supervision of launch operations; the capsule test conductor had a similar 

duty on the countdown; and the flight director, 

located in the Mercury Control Center, had 

detailed flight-control responsibility from liftoff to touchdown. 

ar Memo, Tecwyn Roberts, Flight Dynamics 

Officer, to Flight Director, "Report on Test 

3805," Feb. 2, 1961; penciled notes on the 

countdown of MR-2, anon., Jan. 31, 1961. 

The origin of the popular space term "A.OK" 

is a matter of widespread public interest. In 

reporting the Freedom 7 flight, the press attributed the term to Astronaut Shepard, and indeed NASA News Release 1-61-99, May 5, 

1961, has Shepard report "A.OK" shortly after 

impact. A replay of the flight voice communications tape disclosed that Shepard himself did 

not use the term. I t was Col. John A. 

"Shorty" Powers who reported Shepard's condition as "A.OK" in a description of the flight. 

Tecwyn Roberts of STG and Capt. Henry E. 

Clements of the Air Force had used "A.OK" 

frequently in reports written more than four 

months before the Shepard flight. Roberts 

attributed coinage of the term to Paul Lein, 

of the Western Electric Co., while the tracking network was being constructed. Lein, 

however, said that "A.OK" was a communal 

development among communications engineers 

while circuits were first being established downrange from Cape Canaveral. The voice circuits at first gave poor quality. The bands 

were narrow, and the systems operated on 1500 

cycles. There was much static and background noise. Words got lost in voice circuit 

systems checks. To make transmissions 

clearer, the communicators started using 

"A.OK" because the letter "A" has a brilliant 

ecuy Coto,by s pubc use 

"A.OK," made those three letters a univers

symbol meaning "in perfect working order." 

as Penciled notes on MR-2 countdow

memo, William S. Augerson, Life System

Group, to Christopher C. Kraft, Mercury Co

trol Center Flight Dir., "Blockhouse Medic

Monitoring of MR-2," Feb. 6, 1961; W. 

Kapryan, "Postlaunch Report for MR-2

Feb. 2, 1961. Some flight notes on MR-

author unknown, dated Feb. 1961, indicate

that the inverter had operated at temperatur

as high as 200 degrees F. 

au "Postlaunch Report for MR-2," 

NASA News Release, Cape Canaveral, Ja

30, 1961; Roberts memo; memo, Warren 

North, Head, Manned Satellites, NASA Hq

to Franklyn W. Phillips, NASA Hq., "MR-

Flight Results," Feb. 1, 1961; tape of pre

conference following MR-2 launch, Cape C

naveral, Jan. 31, 1961. Cf. Carl R . Hu

comments, Oct. 5, 1965. 

40 "Postlaunch Report for MR-2," 9; mem

North to STG, "Retrocontrollers Comments

Feb. 9, 1961. Brief accounts of Ham's flig

may be found in Kenneth F. Weaver, "Coun

down for Space," National Geographi

CXIX (May 1961), 725-734; and in Judi

Viorst, Projects: Space (New York, 1962

37-38. 

H Memo, Morton Schier, capsule enviro

ment monitor, to Kraft, "MR-2 ECS Flig

and Postflight Summary," Feb. 6, 1961. 

4~ "Mercury-Redstone II Flight Param

ters," chart, Feb. 7, 1961; "Calculated Pr

flight Trajectory Data for MR-2," Proje

Mercury working paperNo. 168, Jan. 19, 196

See also North memo. 

4a NASA Fifth Semiannual Report to Co

gress. See also NASA films, MR-2 Launc

March 1961, and Sixth Quarterly Report, Apr

1961. 

41 "Postlaunch Report for MR-2," 1

MR-2 flight parameter chart; tape of pre

conference following MR-2 flight; some flig

note5 on MR-2, anon., dated Feb. 1961; Hou

Committee on Science and Astronautics, 8

Cong., 1 sess. (1961), Project Mercury, Secon

Interim Report, 34-37; Wayne E. Koons an

James L. Lewis, interviews, Houston, Sept. 1

1965. Robert F. Wallace, an STG inform

tion officer on the scene, reported that Ha

was excited when returned to Hangar S aft

575 
his trailer, his suit was not removed until he 

became calm, and at that time a famous "grin" 

photograph was made. Later, when his handler led him back toward a capsule for pictures 

requested by the TV crews, Ham again became 

highly perturbed. I t took three men to calm 

the "astrochimp" for the next round of pictures. On April 2, 1963, Ham was given to 

the National Zoological Park, Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C., where for the past 

several years he has been in good health and 

has thrilled many children. 

45 The amount of water in the spacecraft 

caused great concern to members of STG's Life 

Systems Group when they found the heatshield 

had punctured holes in the lower pressure bulkhead. Life Systems renewed studying alternatives, making either optional or impossible the 

deployment of the landing bag. More drop 

tests were undertaken by the Aeromedical Biophysics Group of the Wright Air Development 

Division. Simulating the Mercury drop rate 

of about 30 feet per second, the Wright group 

found that human test subjects could sustain 

impacts of about 35 g.and recover from "a confused state" in about five seconds. STG considered this within fairly safe limits for an 

interim measure, but the margin of safety was 

too small to accept for the routine operation 

of a Mercury mission. Memo, Gerard J. Pesman to Assoc. Dir., "Use of Impact Bag for 

Water Landings," Feb. 13, 1961. In all of 

the manned missions the impact bag was 

deployed. 

4G See R. I. Johnson, et al., "The MercuryRedstone Project," Saturn/Apollo Systems 

Office, Marshall Space Flight Center, June 

1964, 8-9. Cf. Huss comments. Regarding 

the impact bag problems at this time, see 

memo, Rodney G. Rose to Chief, STG Engineering Div., "Summary of Air Drop and Fatigue Program with Production Capsule No.5," 

May 4, 1961, and Ms. paper, "Project Mercury 

Water Landing Problems," presented to 30th 

annual AIAA meeting, New York City, Jan. 

24, 1962. 

H Purser, "Notes on Capsule Review· Board 

Meeting," Jan. 20, 1961. The conception of 

Mercury Mark II (or what was named Project 

Gemini almost a year later) was taking place 

at this time. See memo, Purser to STG Dir., 

"Atlas Modifications, Cost, and Scheduling," 

576 

48 Seamans interview; MA2 Mission Di

rective," NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 140, June 24, 1960, rev. Aug. 11, 1960, 

Jan. 29, 1961, and Feb. 9, 1961; Donald T. 

Gregory, "Technical Information Summary of 

Mercury-Atlas Mission No. 2 (Capsule No. 

6)," Feb. 10,1961. 

~9 Rhode interview. Owing to airline engineers' strike, Rhode flew to the Cape via a 

routine Air Force logistics flight, arriving just 

in time to climb the gantry and personally inspect the "fix." 

50 Webb interview; memo, George M. Low 

to Administrator, "Mercury-Atlas 2 Launch," 

Feb. 18, 1961; "Calculated Trajectory Data 

for MA-2," NASA Project Mercury working 

paperNo. 163, Dec. 7, 1960. 

~l "P roc e e din g s of the Mercury-Atlas 

Booster Reliability Workshop," San Diego, 

July 12, 1963, passim. 

52 Low, interview, Houston, Sept. 15, 1965; 

Ritland, interview, Andrews AFB, Dec. 30, 

1964; Gilruth, interview, Houston, Mar. 18, 

1964; P. E. Culbertson, comments, Aug. 16, 

1965; Paul P. Haney, comments, Sept. 15, 

1965; Purser, notes on MA-2 launch as relayed from Mercury Control Center, Feb. 21, 

1961. 

53 "Post Launch Report for Mercury-Atlas 

No.2 (MA-2) ," STG, March 13, 1961, 161. 

An unidentified ship, a tanker flying a hammer-and-sickle flag, but apparently without any 

unusual radar antennas, also was able to see the 

unusual reentry. Memo, Donald C. Cheatham to Assoc. Dir., "Russian Ship in MA-2 

Primary Landing Area," March 8, 1961. 

"~Memo, North to Administrator, "Preliminary MA-2 Flight Results," Feb. 23, 1961. 

Many NASA engineers and managers think of 

MA-2 as being "the day Mercury won its 

spurs" from the Air Force because in retrospect it represented the only potentially serious 

difference of opinion with the military services 

throughout the program; see Low comments. 

5" "Press Conference; Mercury-Atlas No. 

2," Cape Canaveral, Feb. 21, 1961. See also 

John H. Glenn, Jr., "We're Going Places No 

One Has Ever Traveled in a Craft No One's 

Flown," Life) L (Jan. 27, 1961); Loudon 

Wainwright, "Chosen Three for First Space 

Ride," Life, L (March 3, 1961). For the 

Atlas manufacturer's postflight analysis, see 
I 

66 The Mercury-Redstone Project, 5-37. 

51 Ibid., 8-15. Before a press conference 

on February 8, 1961, President Kennedy had 

cautioned against a premature effort to "put 

a man in space in order to gain some prestige 

and have the man take a disproportionate 

risk." On February 28, Webb announced the 

President's order for a thorough review of 

the nation's space programs, and on March 2 

a group from the President's Science Advisory 

Committee was already on tour and at the 

Atlantic Missile Range for a briefing on Project Mercury. See Aeronautical and Astronautical Events of 1961, 5, 8, 9. 

58 Joachim P. Kuettner, note for Dr. von 

Braun, Feb. 7, 1961 ; memo, Kuettner to von 

Braun and others, Marshall Space Flight Center, "Recommendation to Space Task Group on 

Manned Mercury-Redstone Flight," Feb. 7, 

1961; "Daily Journal," Launch Operations 

Directorate-Marshall Space Flight Center, 

Feb. 6, 1961. 

59 Memo, Emil P. Bertram to Kurt H. 

Debus, "MSFC Meeting on MR-3 Manned 

Flight," Feb. 10, 1961; message, Debus to 

Kuettner, undated [about Feb. 12, 1961] re 

Launch Operations Directorate reply to Kuettner's memo of Feb. 7, 1961. See table 8-3 

in Johnson et aI., "The Mercury-Redstone 

Project," 8- 15. The first priority list of weak 

"components" included the thrust controller, 

vibrations, cutoff arming timer, abort sensors, 

peroxide tank pressure regulator, peroxide system cleanliness, and a liquid oxygen manhole 

leak. 

60 Memos, North to Dir., Space Flight Programs, "Mercury Status as of March 2, 1961," 

Mar. 3, 1961, 2, 3; Wernher von Braun to 

Marshall Space Flight Center, "Sensitivity of 

Mercury Launching Dates," March 3, 1961. 

0 1 Message, Marshall Space Flight Center 

to STG, March 15, 1961; "Project Mercury 

Status Report No. 10 for Period Ending 

April 30, 1961," NASA/STG, 31 ; memo, 

Jerome B. Hammack, STG Cape Operations, 

to Project Dir., "Mercury-Redstone Booster 

Development Flight (MR-BD) ," March 26, 

1961. 

02 Letters, Brooks to Kennedy, March 9, 

1961 ; Kennedy to Brooks, March 23, 1961. 

See also Air Force replies to these and other 

charges in House Committee on Science and 

Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961) , Defense 

the comments I overheard were favorable. 

also received very favorable direct comments 

from Dr. Hornig and the various panel 

members." 

63 Lloyd V. Berkner and Hugh Odishaw, 

eds., Science in Space (New York, 1961). See 

Holmes, America on the Moon, 193-195. See 

also the special issue devoted to "Space Exploration in the Service of Science" of Bulletin 

of the Atomic Scientists, XVII (May-June 

1961), 169-240. 

64 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), Hearings, 

1962 N ASA Authorization, Part I, testimony of 

Abe Silverstein, March 14, 1961,77,94,99. 

65 Luncheon talk by James E. Webb, NASA 

Administrator, to the American Astronautical 

Symposium, Washington, D.C., March 17, 

1961. 

66 The steps leading to the decision for an 

accelerated U .S. space program to include 

landing an American on the moon before 

1970, as presented to the Congress on May 25, 

1961, are to be detailed in subseq uen t NASA 

histories. 

07 Senate Subcommittee of the Committee 

on Appropriations, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), 

Independent Offices Appropriations, 1962, 

Hearings, testimony of Hugh L. Dryden, 642­

643, 656. 

fl8 See "The Expanded Space Program," 

Historical Sketch of NASA (EP-29), 27- 35. 

no "Technical Information Summary of Little Joe 5-A (Capsule No. 14)," STG, March 

6, 1961 , 1-3; "Recovery Operations Requirement for Little Joe Test No.5-A," undated; 

and Low comments. See pp. 291-293. 

,0 Table adapted from memo, Low to Administrator, "Little Joe 5A Test," March 16, 

1961. See also "Mission Directive for Little 

Joe No. 5A," NASA Project Mercury working 

paper No. 177 , March 7, 1961,3-1. 

,1 Memo, North to Administrator, "Preliminary Flight Results, Little Joe 5- A," March 

20, 1961. See also memo, Low to Dir., Space 

Flight Programs, "Little Joe 5-B Preparation 

Schedule," March 24, 1961 . The fact that 

both primary and secondary main parachutes 

deployed immediately after the escape tower 

jettisoned complicated "quick-look" observations: see transcript, "Press Conference, Little 

Joe VI [LJ-5A], March 18, 1961," with Robert 

577 
Fisher, in comments, Sept. 15, 1965, has said 

that "Little Joe 5A was anything but unedifying. . . . This type of failure may have easily 

occurred on a Mercury-Atlas flight with very 

severe program impact had not the Little Joe 

5 series pinpointed and fixed a marginal design 

condition." 

73 Memo, unsigned, "Publicity Releases on 

Mercury," Marshall Space Flight Center, Feb. 

8, 1961. 

7~ "Information Plan: Redstone Development Test: MR-BD," NASA, March 21, 1961, 

2. For an example of this policy, see NASA 

News Release 61-57, "Mercury Redstone 

Booster Development Test," March 22, 1961. 

One of the most famous of publicity fact sheets, 

issued by STG from Langley Field on April 10, 

1961, was entitled simply" 'IF': A Study of 

Contingency Planning for the Project Mercury 

Mission." 

75 "The Mercury-Redstone Project," 8-16; 

"Final Report: Mercury Redstone Project 

Launch Operations," Appendix 0, 2; memo, 

Geissler, "Project Mercury-Redstone: Trajectory Data for MR-BD," March 20, 1961; 

"Master Operational Schedule for MR-BD," 

Marshall Space Flight Center, March 6, 1961; 

memo, S. Snyder to NASA Technical Personnel, "Mercury-Redstone (MR-BD) Launch," 

March 23,1961. 

7B Hammack memo. Mercury working 

paper 178 was by J. W. Maynard, T. J. Skopinski, and P. S. Leatherman, "Calculated Preflight Trajectory Data for Redstone Booster 

Test (MR-BD) ," March 17, 1961. 

71 Memo, Low to Administrator, "Mercury 

Redstone Booster Development Test," March 

27, 1961. See also note, Eugene E. Horton 

to Powers on MR-BD publicity and point of 

test in "wriggling" Redstone; message, Powers 

to Paul Haney, date missing. 

78 Of a total of 71 Redstone booster flights 

(including 4 Mercury-Redstone) through 

March 24, 1961, only 10, or 14.1 percent, were 

classed as failures by the latest revision of a 

composite document prepared under W. A. 

Mrazek, Director, Structures and Mechanics 

Division: "Redstone Vehicle Malfunction 

Study (Mercury-Redstone Program) ," MSFC 

report No. DSD-TM-12-60, Rev. B, May 1, 

1960, 8. 

70 See "Final Report: Mercury-Redstone 

578 

SP-4001 (Washington, 1963), 131,207,218. 

50 Purser, log for Gilruth, April 10, 1961; 

Purser, interview, Houston, Feb. 12, 1964; 

Gilruth interview; Silverstein, interview, Cleveland, May 1, 1964; Aeronautical and Astronautical Events of 1961, 15. See also "Rumors 

Fly as Moscow Alerts Press," Washington 

POJt, Apr. 11, 1961. 

81 Donald F. Hornig, chairman, "Report 

of the Ad Hoc Mercury Panel," Apr. 12, 1961, 

18, passim. The membership of this panel 

included, in addition to Hornig, Paul Beeson, 

W. John Beil, Milton V. Clauser, Edward H. 

Heinemann, Lawrence S. Hyland, Donald P. 

Ling, Robert B. Livingston, Harrison A. 

Storms, and Cornelius Tobias. The two technical assistants were Douglas R. Lord and 

James B. Hartgering, and two special consul tants were Alfred P. Fishman and Paul 

Wickham. 

82 Ibid. See also "Debate Reported Over 

Space Shot: Kerr Asserts Kennedy Aides Disputed Flight's Wisdom," New York Times, 

May 10, 1961; Lord interview. Mae Mills 

Link, Space Medicine in Project Mercury, 

NASA SP-4003 (Washington, 1965), treats at 

greater length some of these problems in her 

chapter VIII, entitled "The Season of Crisis: 

1961," 112-125. 

S3 For an overview of these issues, see chapter on "Gagarin" in Holmes, America on the 

Moon, 83-92; Thomas A. Reedy, "Britons Say 

Reds' Timing May Indicate 'Lie in Sky,'" 

Newport News Daily Press, April 13, 1961. 

Some question was also raised in Congress and 

the press whether Gagarin's flight was in fact 

a complete orbit, since it apparently fell short 

of its starting point by a few miles. 

5t Memo, Powers to Gilruth, "Pre-planned 

Comment for Possible Russian Space Shot," 

Sept. 27, 1960. All quotations are taken from 

House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 

87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), Discussion of Soviet 

Man-in-Space Shot, 7, 11, 16, 18, 27, 33. 

85 It is widely believed that Yuri A. Gagarin 

rode all the way down to impact inside his 

capsule and that his flight was made fail-safe 

by the choice of a rather steep reentry trajectory. For pictorial comparisons of the Soviet 

spacecraft and booster systems, see the series of 

articles in Aviation Week, LXXXII (May 10

1965), "Russia Displays Vostok with Spheri­
58-60; (June 7, 1965), "Gazenko Discusses 

Soviet Space Medicine," 40-45. Cf. memo, M. 

Scott Carpenter to Gilruth et al., "Cosmonaut 

Training," Nov. 24, 1964. 

8a These parameters are based on a 28-page 

typewritten translation by Joseph L. Zygielbaum from Pravda, April 25, 1961, entitled 

"The First Flight of Man into Cosmic Space," 

and circulated around STG as the best data 

then available. For comparative information, 

see Senate Committee on Aeronautical and 

Space Sciences, 87 Cong., 2 sess. (1962), 

Soviet Space Programs: Organization, Plans, 

Goals, and International Implications, Table 

I, 106-107, 108; and Charles S. Sheldon II, 

"The Challenge of International Competition," 

paper, the Third American Inst. of Aeronautics and Astronautics/NASA Manned Space 

Flight Meeting, Houston, Nov. 4-6, 1964, 

Table V, 26. See also Federation Aeronautique Internationale, record claim. 

87 Soviet Man in Space (Moscow, [1961]), 

93. See also Joseph L. Zygielbaum, "The 

Soviet Space Program," in the World Book 

Science Annual, 1965 Science Year (Chicago, 

1965), 64-75. 

88 Statement by Yuri A. Gagarin at the 

Soviet Scientist's Club reported April 16, 1961, 

in The First Man in Space: The Record of 

Yuri Gagarin's Historic First Venture into 

Cosmic Space: A Collection of Translations 

from Soviet Press Reports (New York, 1961), 

41; the first quotation is taken from Y. 

Maksaryov, ed., Technical Progress in the 

U.S.S.R., 1959-1965, trans. David Skvirsky 

(Moscow, [1963J), 10. 

bO Newport News Times-Herald, April 13, 

1961; statements of Glenn, Virgil I. Grissom, 

and Alan B. Shepard, Jr., April 12, 1961; 

statement of Gilruth, April 12, 1961; NASA 

News Release 61-80, April 20, 1961. 

no House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), Report No. 

391, to accompany H.R. 6874, Authorizing 

Appropriations to the National Aeronautics and 

Space Administration, testimony of Seamans, 

360-382; Aeronautical and Astronautical 

Events of 1961, 11, 15; and Seamans, interview, Washington, Sept. 1, 1965. See also 

"Ups and Downs in Space as U.S. Gets Set to 

Launch Man," Life, L (May 5,1961). 

~1 Memos, North to Dir., Space Flight 

n~ Memos, Silverstein to Assoc. Administrator, "Mission Change for Mercury-Atlas 3," 

April 18, 1961; Snyder to NASA Technical 

Personnel, Technical Information Center, 

"Mercury-Atlas 3 (MA-3) Launch," April 24, 

1961; "R. ]. W." for record, "MA-3 Flight 

Particulars," April 24, 1961; "Technical Information Summary of Mercury-Atlas Mission 

No.3 (Capsule No.8)," STG, April 17, 1961; 

"Mission Directive for MA-3," Project Mercury, Oct. 18, 1960, rev. March 31, 1961; 

"Calculated Pre-Flight Trajectory Data," 

NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 

184, April 14, 1961; "Mercury Control Center 

Countdown Flight Control and Overall Operations MA-3," March 16, 1961; rev. April 20, 

1961; "MA-3 Mission Rules-Correction 

Copy," undated. See also Huss comments. 

u~ Memo, Low to Administrator, "Mercury 

Atlas 3 Launching," April 24, 1961; John H. 

Disher to Administrator, "Mercury-Atlas Flight 

No.3," April 26, 1961; "Mercury-Atlas No. 

3 (MA-3) Memorandum Report for the Project Director," STG, April 28, 1961. This 

realistic exercise for the launch site recovery 

team, as well as the beautiful performance of 

the escape tower, increased confidence in spite 

of the mission failure. 

0< Memo, Low to Dir., Space Flight Programs, "Atlas 100-D Programmer," June 12, 

1961; Hohmann, "Atlas 100-D Investigation 

Board Status Report," June 14, 1961. 

0;; "Mission Directive for Little Joe No. 5-B 

(Capsule No. 14)," NASA Project Mercury 

working paper No. 183, April 7, 1961; "Technical Information Summary of Little Joe No. 

5-B," April 12, 1961; Alfred I. Alibrando 

and Horton, "Information Plan: Project Mercury Little Joe Seven," April 7,1961; NASA 

News Release 61-82, "Project Mercury Escape 

System Test: Little Joe Seven," April 20,1961. 

Low has commented that "if Little Joe 5B had 

failed, it might have put a constraint on MR-3 

that would have prevented its launching." 

!J(] "Post-Launch Report for Mercury Little 

Joe Mission 5B (LJ-5B) ," NASA Project 

Mercury working paper No. 195, June 12, 

1961, 1-1, 2-1, passim. So far above the 

design limits for max- q on Little Joe was 

the performance of LJ-5B that this production capsule might have carried a man safely 

579 
q

six flights since January, only two (MA-3 and 

LJ-5A) were admitted failures. Of 10 qualification flight tests with production McDonnell 

capsules to date (the 4-inch flight of MR-1 

was excluded), 6 (including MR-BD) were 

counted as "successful," although a historical 

accounting should, on the basis of intent, make 

that record read 5 out of 10 "unsuccessful" at 

least. Capsule orbit weight was calculated at 

2836 pounds and expected to be 2874 pounds 

by July, still within Atlas capabilities. "Project Orbit," the simulated orbital test prop'"ram 

using Capsule No. 10 in McDonnell's altitude 

chamber, was well underway; the tracking network and ground instrumentation system was 

reported 95 percent complete; while ground 

qualifications testing and reliability testing 

were said to be 95 and 90 percent complete, 

respectively. Readiness for the first manned 

sub-orbi tal test fligh t, including the lately 

renewed studies to "quick-fix" the impact protection, landing system, and reaction control 

system, and to test more animals in centrifuges, 

was asserted to be clear if the flight safety 

review board meetings at the Cape on April 

28-29, 1961, should certify both capsule and 

booster. 

Chapter XI 

1 Letter, Larry Stoddard, Rating Section, 

National Broadcasting Company, Inc., to Sigman Byrd, Hist. and Library Services Br., 

MSC, March 15,1965; "Postlaunch Report for 

Mercury Redstone No. 3 (MR-3) ," NASA 

Project Mercury working paper No. 192, June 

16, 1961, 73; James M. Grimwood, Project 

Mercury: A Chronology, NASA SP-4001 

(Washington, 1963), 35, 124; "Postlaunch 

Trajectory Report for Mercury-Redstone Mission 3 (MR-3,Capsule 7) ," NASA Project 

Mercury working paper No. 210, Oct. 12,1961, 

1-2. 

2 Tape of press conference, Mercury astronauts, Cape Canaveral, Feb. 22, 1961. At 

the conference Robert R. Gilruth pointed out 

that the four remaining astronauts were not 

eliminated, since there would be other flights. 

He said it was simply that at this point in the 

program a few had to be selected to participate 

in a particular mission, and that it was only 

practical to select those best prepared. The 

p

som had been selected to train for the first 

flight. 

3 Memo, George M. Low to Dir., Space 

Flight Programs, "Project Mercury Status," 

Jan. 6, 1961; memo, Warren J. North to Dir. 

of Space Flight Programs, "Mercury Status as 

of Jan. 13, 1961," Jan. 16, 1961; "Project 

Mercury Status Report No.9 for Period Ending Jan. 31, 1961," 3. 

-I Alan B. Shepard, Jr., interview, Houston, Aug. 6, 1964. 

5 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 87 Cong., 2 sess. (1962), Aeronautical 

and Astronautical Events of 1961, 7; "Individual Astronaut Monthly Training Schedules, 

Sept. 1960-Feb. 1961," undated; Donald K. 

Slayton, "Pilot Training and Preflight Preparation," in Conference on Medical Results of the 

First U.S. Manned Suborbital SPace Flight: 

A Compilation of Papers, NASA in Cooperation with National Institutes of Health and National Academy of Sciences (Washington, 

1961),95. 

a "Pilot Preparation for MR-3 Mission," 

undated; Carmault B. Jackson and Richard S. 

Johnston, "Astronaut Preparation and Activities Manual for MR-3," NASA/STG, Dec. 1, 

1960. 

7 Memo, Sigurd A. Sjoberg, et al., Flight 

Operations Div., STG, to Assoc. Dir., 

"Astronaut Briefing and Debriefing for MR-3 

Mission," April 4, 1961; letter, Walter C. 

Williams to Comdr., Air Force Missile Test 

Center, re personnel at Grand Bahama debriefing, April 26, 1961. 

8 NASA News Release 61-99, "MercuryRedstone 3 Press Conference, Cape Canaveral," May 5, 1961; memo for files, Martin A. 

Byrnes, STG, "Recovery MR-3," May 11, 

1961; "MR-3 Recovery Operations," anon., 

undated. R/A G. P. Koch directed recovery 

operations in the impact area. His supporting 

ships and their commanders were: carrier

Champlain, Capt. R. Weymouth; destroyers

Decatur, Cdr. A. W. McLane ; Wadleigh, 

Lt. Cdr. D. W. Kelly; Rooks, Cdr. W. H. 

Patillo; Sullivans, Cdr. F. H. S. Hall; and 

Abbott, Cdr. R. J. Norman; and radar ship 

(DDR) N. K. Perry, Cdr. A. O. Roberts. The 

recovery force again included the P2V aircraft 

under Cdr. R. H. Casey, Jr. 

580 
y 

10 Message, [Cdr. DesFlotFour] to STG et 

al., April 19, 1961; memo, Sjoberg et al., to 

NASA Assoc. Dir., "MR-3 Postflight Debriefing of Alan B. Shepard," Aug. 22, 1961. As 

it turned out, the same helicopter pilot team 

(Marine Lts. Wayne E. Koons and George F. 

Cox) that practiced with the three astronauts 

in the special training team effected the water 

recovery of the first suborbital spaceman. 

Wayne E. Koons and James L. Lewis, interview, Houston, Sept. 16, 1965. 

11 Letter, F. W. Reichelderfer to T. Keith 

Glennan, June 9, 1960; memo, Williams to 

Maj. Gen. Leighton 1. Davis, "Meteorological 

Support of Project Mercury," Aug. 31, 1960; 

Reichelderfer to Gilruth, April 18, 1961, with 

enclosure, "Status of Weather Support for Project Mercury, April 1961." 

12 "Operations Requirements No. 1904, 

Mercury-Redstone Launch/' Feb. 15, 1961. 

13 Byrnes memo. 

H Based on a series of interviews. Also see 

Mae M. Link, Space Medicine in Project 

Mercury, NASA SP-4003 (Washington, 1965), 

112-125. See also p. 331 of this work. 

1::; A. Duane Catterson, interview, Houston, 

April 10, 1964. 

16 Stanley C. White, Richard S. Johnston, 

and Gerard J. Pesman, "Review of Biomedical 

Systems Prior to the MR-3 Ballistic Flight," 

undated. Another criticism leveled by members of the PSAC panel in March 1961 was 

that the fire hazard in a pure oxygen atmosphere had not been sufficiently dealt with 

through tests. The subject had been considered by STG; the conclusion was that depressurization would serve as an excellent fire extinguisher. Robert B. Voas, interview, Houston, April 15, 1964. See also p. 287. 

17 Newport News Times-Herald, March 25, 

1961; Shreveport Times, April 2, 1961. Howard 1. Gibbons, then associated with the Newport News Daily Press, later of the Public 

Affairs Office, MSC, interviewed the seven 

astronauts on July 7, 1959, at a NASA Press 

Day event. The following Sunday, Gibbons 

predicted in the Daily Press that Alan Shepard 

would be the first astronaut in space. As far 

as can be determined, this was the first speculation in the matter. "It was just a good guess," 

said Gibbons. 

18 Voas interview. 

publicity buildup. The painful experience of 

Dec. 6, 1957, when the public witnessed the 

spectacular launchpad failure of the Vanguard booster, America's first attempt to launch 

an artificial satellite, had not been forgotten. 

Wall Street Journal, May 2, 1961. 

~1 Washington Post, May 3, 1961; New 

York Times, May 5, 1961; memos, John H. 

Disher, Head, Advanced Manned Systems, 

NASA, to Administrator, "Mercury-Redstone 

Launching," May 1, 1961, and May 4, 1961. 

~2 Chicago Tribune, April 29 and 30, 1961; 

Washington Daily News, April 29, 1961; Washington Evening Star, April 29, 1961; Washington Post, May 1, 1961; Baltimore Sun, April 

30, 1961; New York Times, May 2 and 3, 

1961; Newport News Times-Herald, May 2, 

1961; "Mercury Astronauts Work as a Team 

on MR-3," undated. A statement by Gilruth 

on the mode of pilot selection for MR-3 is 

contained in NASA Fifth Semiannual Report 

to Congress, Oct. 1, 1960, through June 30, 

1961 (Washington, 1962),15, 17,18. 

23 "NASA Note to Editors, " April 24, 1961; 

New York Times, May 2,1961. 

~4 Conference on Medical Results of the 

First U.S. Manned Sub-orbital Space Flight, 

7, 8; "Pilot Preparation for MR-3 Mission," 

anon ., undated. Safety measures, including 

appropriate actions, covering each time segment of the second half of the split countdown were published just before the MR-3 

mission in "Emergency Handbook for Pad 

Area Rescue, Mercury-Redstone, Capsule 7," 

May 2, 1961. This document later was revised and reissued on June 29, 1961, to cover 

Capsule 11 and the MR-4 flight. 

2:> Ibid.; Sjoberg, April 4 memo; "Postlaunch Report for MR-3," 43-45 . During 

the early part of the countdown on May 5, 

John Glenn, the backup pilot, spent considerable time in the spacecraft assisting in systems 

checkouts. To help relieve any tension Shepard might have built up, Glenn pasted a little 

sign on the spacecraft panel, reading "No 

handball playing here." This bit of levity 

hearkened back to their training days. Later 

he went to Mercury Control Center and stood 

behind Donald K. Slayton, spacecraft communicator, helping to gather data to feed to 

Shepard during the flight. 

26 "Postlaunch Report for MR-3," 45-46; 

581 
Administrator, MercuryRedstone Mission, 

undated. After four hours without relief and 

with only a primitive urine collection system, 

his underwear got wet, but the suit air regenerating system worked very well. Sjoberg, 

Aug. 22 memo; Lee McMillion, interview, 

Houston, Oct. 30, 1963; memo, Carl R. Huss 

to Flight Dir., "Record and Comments on 

Activities and Observations Made at Retrofire 

Controller's Po sit ion During Test 108 

(MR-3)," May 5, 1961. 

27 "Postlaunch Report for MR-3"; Conference on Medical Results of the First U.S. 

Manned Suborbital SPace Flight, 74; Shepard, 

speech, Society of Experimental Test Pilots, 

Los Angeles, Sept. 30, 1961; letter, John A. 

Powers to W. J. Phillippi, Aug. 4, 1961. As 

for the other astronauts, Carpenter and Grissom observed from the Mercury Control 

Center. 

28 Later, during postlaunch debriefings, 

Shepard stated that the decision to carry or 

eliminate the personal parachute on subsequent 

flights should be left for the prime pilot. An 

unidentified astronaut at the debriefing (probably Schirra) exclaimed, "Please!" 

:.>0 The "Kennedy call" was to become a 

standing event in all manned Mercury flights. 

30 Shepard gave a most lucid account of his 

mission from liftoff to water impact, following 

his preliminary medical examination aboard 

the Champlain. Shepard's dictated report is 

contained in "Postlaunch Report for MR-3," 

and in the Sjoberg debriefing memo of Aug. 22. 

The latter document also gives questions by 

the debriefers and answers by the astronaut 

covering every aspect of the flight. Also see 

"Shepard and USA Feel A. OK," Life, L 

(May 12, 1961) ; Alan B. Shepard, Jr., "Astronaut's Story of the Thrust into Space," Life, L 

(May 19, 1961). 

31 "Postlaunch Report for MR-3"; memo, 

Morton SchIer to Kraft, "Postlaunch Summary Report of MR-3 Mission," May 5, 1961; 

Byrnes memo; Sjoberg, Aug. 22 memo. 

3l Ibid.; memo, Slayton to Flight Dir., 

"MR-3 Mission Report," May 15, 1961. The 

ships did have a communications problem 

during spacecraft descent, however, because 

of background interference from Latin-American broadcasting stations. 

33 Memo, Gilruth to staff, "Congratulatory 

582 

nautic Assn., United States Representative, 

Federation Aeronautique Internationale, Washington, 1961. Shepard submitted certification 

of his flight on May 15, 1961. Regarding contrasts between reports of the Shepard and Gagarin flights, d. The First Man in Space: The 

Record of Yuri Gagarin's Historic First Venture into Cosmic Space, trans. from Soviet 

press reports (New York, 1961). A large 

portion of the text is poli tical propaganda. 

A photograph of the launch is obscured in 

clouds of smoke-much as the whole program 

was. The Shepard fligh t was reported in 

words and pictures without allusion to political 

ideology. The report of the Turkish journalists was extracted from Aeronautical and 

Astronautical Events of 1961, 24. 

3j White House News Release, "John F. 

Kennedy, President of the United States, Special Message to Congress, May 25, 1961." 

Freedom 7 was displayed publicly at Cape 

Canaveral beginning on May 20, 1961, the day 

the launch area was first opened to the public. 

30 For fiscal data on the fiscal year 1962 

program, see House Committee on Science and 

Astronautics, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), 1962 

NASA Authorization, Hearings; Senate Subcommittee of the Committee on Appropriations, 87 Cong., 1 sess. (1961), Independent 

Offices Appropriations, 1962, Hearings; House 

Committee on Science and Astronautics, 87 

Cong., 1 sess. (1961), Authorizing Appropriations to the National Aeronautics and SPace 

Administration, 28-38. 

37 Mercury Project Summary, Including Results of the Fourth Manned Orbital Flight, 

May 15 and 16, 1963, NASA SP-45 (Washington, 1963), 1. This report says more than 

2,000,000 people from government, industry, 

and institutions were involved in Project Mercury. For the components alone there were 

some 10,000 contractors, subcontractors, and 

suppliers. The Public Affairs Office of the 

Manned Spacecraft Center said that the Apollo 

program had about 40,000 contractors and suppliers as of May 1964. See also Tom Alexander, Project Apollo: Man to the Moon (New 

York, 1964), 8. 

38 Memos, H. Kurt Strass to Chief, Fligh t 

Systems, STG, "Activation of Study Program 

Pertaining to Advanced Manned Space Projects," June 22, 1959; "First Meeting of New 
Organization of the Space Task Group," Sept. 

1, 1960; and "President's Request for Additional Budget Action," May 26, 1961. A 

NASA-sponsored "Conference on the Peaceful 

Uses of Space" was also meeting at this time 

in Tulsa. 

3D "Manned Spacecraft Development Center, Organizational Concepts and Staffing Requirements," May 1, 1961. Some 13 days 

before the Presidential pronouncement, a 

House appropriations authorization document 

foresaw an increased personnel requirement for 

STG, estimating the need at about 300 additional people. Moreover, it was noted that 

the organization would be carried as a separate 

research center for financial allocation purposes, beginning with fiscal 1962, although 

STG's work was then domiciled at the Langley Research Center and divided between 

Langley, Goddard, and the Cape. STG's personnel strength reached 1152 by the end of 

1961, and it had proposed some 3000 personnel spaces in the May study for a Manned 

Spacecraft Development Center. Authorizing 

Appropriations to NASA, 6. 

~o Newport News Times-Herald, May 30, 

1961; Newport News Daily Press, May 30, 

1961; Aeronautical and Astronautical Eveit'ts 

of 1961; memo, Paul E. Purser to Gilruth, 

"Log for Week of Aug. 7,1961," Aug. 15,1961. 

Besides speculating about the move, the press 

now began acquainting the public with the new 

manned space projects. What later became 

Project Gemini was described, and the lunar 

program was discussed. The estimated cost 

of these activities was mentioned frequently. 

(See Washington Post, May 24 and 26, 1961; 

New York Times, May 24 and 26,1961; Baltimore Sun, May 26, 1961.) A cartoon by 

Herblock, of the Washington Post, pictured a 

a launch vehicle and a spacecraft wai ting on 

the pad while the pilot (President Kennedy) 

walked toward a service station and ordered 

an attendant (Congress) standing by a fuel 

pump, "Fill 'er up-I'm in a race." 

Virgil I. Grissom, interview, Houston, 

April 12, 1965; "Postlaunch Memorandum 

Report for Mercury-Redstone No. 4 (MR-4 )," 

Aug. 6, 1961. During his debriefing Grissom 

complained about having to travel so much 

for training missions. He suggested that an 

ALFA trainer be installed at Cape Canaveral. 

43 Results of the Second U.S. Manned Suborbital Space Flight, July 21, 1961 (Washington, 1961), 4; "Postlaunch Memorandum 

Report for MR-4"; "Astronaut Recovery 

Handbook ( Capsules No. 11 and 15) ," McDonnelJ Aircraft Corp., St. Louis, June 1, 

1961. 

41 "MR-4 Press Kit," June 29, 1961; Results of the Second U.S. Manned Suborbital 

Flight, 3, 4. The window measured 19 inches 

high, 11 inches across the base, and 7Y2 inches 

across the top. NASA News Release 61-152, 

"MR-4 Design Changes," July 16, 1961. The 

contract change proposal providing for the 

observation window was submitted in October, 

1959. Memo, Purser to Langley Research 

Center, "Contract NAS 5-59; Contract Change 

Proposal No. 73, Astronaut Observation Window Installation," Oct. 1, 1959. 

4;; "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

M~-4"; memo, Future Projects Br., Aeroballistics Div., Marshall Space Flight Center, 

"Project Mercury-Redstone : Additional Trajectory Data for MR-4," June 3, 1961. 

40 Newport News Daily Press, July 16, 1961. 

Someone had done Grissom the favor of painting a likeness of the crack in the original Liberty Bell on spacecraft No. 11. Other astronaut assignments for the MR-4 mission put 

Shepard and Schirra in the Mercury Control 

Center, the former as "Cap Com," the latter 

as observer; Slayton and Carpenter in the 

blockhouse; and Cooper flying the chase plane. 

47 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MR-4" ; memo, Sjoberg to Assoc. Dir., "MR-4 

Postflight Debriefing of Virgil 1. Grissom," 

undated. Grissom became chilled while waiting in the spacecraft for launch on Wednesday, 

July 19. His suit inlet temperature was about 

61 degrees F. On the day of the flight, the 

sui t inlet temperature (55 degrees F) was 

more comfortable because the astronaut's underclothing remained essentially dry. Reception of medical data from Grissom's flight was 

better than that from Shepard's. 

48 "MR-4 Design Changes," 61-152. 

49 Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 214; 

"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for MR-4" ; 

"MR-4 Press Kit"; memo, Low to NASA 

Administrator, "Mercury-Redstone-4 Launching," July 17, 1961. The recovery forces 

were deployed in the same manner as for 

583 

41 
ppy 

Service planes, provided contingency recovery support. Carrier and shore-based helicopters were assigned to pick up the spacecraft, while just off Cape Canaveral a rescue 

salvage vessel stood by for action in the event 

of a mission abort. And, once again, land vehicles were deployed around the launch site for 

duty in case of a catastrophe. 

150 Memo for news media representatives, 

July 16, 1961; Virgil I. Grissom, "The Trouble 

with Liberty Bell," in John Dille, ed., We 

Seven, by the Astronauts Themselves (New 

York, 1962),216-219. 

01. "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MR-4." 

~ Dille, ed., We Seven, 217-218. 

63 The count was resumed, but after another 15 minutes a 9-minute hold was called 

for turning off pad-area searchlights-which in 

the past had caused telemetry interference. 

Next came a 41-minute hold because cloudy 

skies had reduced light conditions to below 

par for camera coverage. During this hold, 

the main inverter began to overheat, reaching 

190 degrees F, and so Grissom switched to 

the standby unit to allow the main component 

to cool. When the count resumed at 15 minutes before launch, he switched back to the 

main inverter. Significantly, during the 80 

extra minutes from astronaut insertion to liftoff, not one of the holds was chargeable to the 

booster. Sjoberg undated memo; "Postlaunch 

Memorandum Report for MR-4." 

In an interview with Grissom on April 12, 

1965, the pilot stated that the misaligned bolt 

had nothing to do with the premature explosion of the hatch. In fact, if a number of 

bolts were misaligned it would be unlikely 

that the hatch would blow off at all. Grissom 

now has the misaligned bolt as a souvenir. 

54 The following detailed account of Grissom's flight is based, like that for Shepard, on 

the evidence of the motion picture camera, the 

tape transcript of communications, the confidential postflight report, the debriefing records, telemetry transcripts, and personal 

interviews. 

M The rate control system consumed about 

3Y2 pounds of hyd~ogen peroxide in 2 minutes. 

Based on this usag~, if that system were used 

exclusively during an orbital mission, all of 

584 

56 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report fo

MR-4"; Sjoberg undated memo; Results o

the Second U.S. Manned Suborbital Flight~

"Project Mercury Status Report No. 11 fo

Period Ending July 31, 1961," NASA/STG

7-9, 26, 30, 31; memo, Richard J. Wisniewsk

to NASA Administrator, "Mercury-Redstone-

Mission," July 24, 1961; memo, John H

Dabbs, to Chief, Flight Operations Div., STG

"Mercury-Redstone-Four High Frequency Air

Ground Communications Test," Aug. 23, 1961

tape of press conference, Cocoa Beach, Fla

July 22, 1961. Participating with Grissom 

were James E. Webb, who awarded the astro

naut the NASA Distinguished Service Meda

Leighton I. Davis; Eberhard F. W. Rees; Rob

ert R. Gilruth; Walter C. Williams; William 

K. Douglas; Alan B. Shepard, Jr., and Joh

H. Glenn, Jr. For Grissom's personal accoun

of the mission, see Dille, ed., We Seven, 205

231. Most of the reports attribute Grissom

sinking lower in the water during the recover

period to the open suit inlet valve. The astro

naut felt that the loss of buoyancy was cause

by the neck dam. He based his belief on th

fact that the dam had been in a rolled positio

for some five days; tests conducted later dis

closed that the rolled rubber sets in two day

time, causing a loss of airtight integrity. Virgi

I. Grissom, interview, Houston, April 12, 1965

Also see Virgil I. Grissom, "It was a Goo

Flight and a Great Float," Life, LI (July 28

1961), and Grissom, "Hero Admits He Wa

Scared," Life, LI (July 28, 1961). 

57 Memo, North to Assoc. Administrator

"Status of MR-4 Hatch Investigation," Aug

30, 1961; "Postlaunch Memorandum Repor

for MR-4." Carpenter, after the secon

orbital flight, was retrieved from his raft, be

ing the only other Mercury astronaut to rid

a helicopter to a ship. He, too, was dunked 

by swells before he was airborne. Grissom 

expressed his opinion in an interview on Apri

12, 1965, that he believed the premature hatch 

explosion was caused by the exterior lanyard 

being loose. At that time it was held in plac

by only one screw. Subsequently a bette

method of securing the lanyard was effected. 

58 Gherman Titov, 700,000 Kilometre

Through Space: Notes by Soviet Cosmonau

No. 2 (Moscow [1962]); Titov and Martin 
Redstone Project Launch Operation," Marshall Space Flight Center, May 28, 1962 ; "The 

Mercury-Redstone Project," MSFC Saturn/ 

Apollo Systems Office, June 1964; and Jerome 

B. Hammack and Jack C. Heberlig, "The Mercury-Redstone Program," paper No. 2238-61, 

read before American Rocket Society, Oct. 

9-15, 1961. See also memo, North to Deputy 

Dir., Space Flight Programs, NASA Hq., "Mercury Status Items for Project Review Meeting, 

June 27,1961 ," June 22,1961. 

80 Purser, Aug. 15 memo; memo, Gilruth to 

Silverstein, "Recommendations on MR- 5 

Flight," undated; Aeronautical and Astronautical Events of 1961, 40; memo, Joachim P. 

Kuettner to Eberhard Rees et al., "Final Disposition of Mercury-Redstone Project," Aug. 

24, 1961; David S. Akens, Paul K. Freiwirth, 

and Helen T. Wells, History of the George C. 

Marshall Space Flight Center (Huntsville, 

Ala., 1960-1962), 7, 19. In an interview on 

April 12, 1965, Grissom stated that some of 

the astronauts wanted to proceed with MR-5 

because the launch vehicle and spacecraft were 

about ready. 

OlTitov, 700,000 Kilometres Through Space, 

60-79,91-124; Titov and Caidin, I Am Eagle! 

166-200; Pavel Barashev and Yuri Dokuchayev, Gherman Titov: First Man to Spend a 

Day in Space (New York, 1962), 93-102 ; 

Newport News Daily Press, Aug. 9, 1961. 

112 Stuart Symington, "Why We Lag in 

Space," speech, U .S. Senate, June 26, 1961; 

John W. Finney, "Capital Worried by Lags in 

Plans on Race to Moon," New York Times, 

Aug. 13, 1961; Vern Haugland, "NASA Hopes 

to Put Mercury Astronaut in Orbit by Next 

December or January," Newport News TimesHerald, Aug. 7,1961. 

Chapter XII 

1 Message, Walter C. Williams to Cdr., 

DesFlotFour, Dec. 8, 1960; "Project Mercury 

Status Report No.9 for Period Ending Jan. 

31,1961," 40,41,43; Paul E. Purser, log for 

Robert R. Gilruth, April 17, 1961; "Project 

Mercury Status Report No. 10 for Period Ending April 30, 1961," 33. For a complete discussion of the MA-3 mission, see pp. 335-337. 

"Project Mercury Postlaunch Report for Mercury-Atlas Mission 4 (MA-4, Capsule 8A)," 

NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 213 , 

Nov. 10, 1961. 

3 Ibid. ; message, NASA Hq. to STG, Aug. 

25, 1961; memo, Morton Schier to Flight Dir., 

"Report on Test 1254," Oct. 3, 1961; Walter 

C. Williams, interview, Houston, Aug. 23, 

1965; Bernhard A. Hohmann, interview, Houston, Sept. 16, 1965; memo, P. 1. Harr, GD/ A, 

to Members of Astronautics Reliability Policy 

Committee, "Minutes of Special 28 August 

1961 Meeting on Transistors," Aug. 29, 1961. 

~ "Project Mercury Status Report No. 11 

for Period Ending July 31,1961," 11, 12. As 

finally configured, Atlas No. 88-D had modifications in the sustainer engine liquid oxygen 

duct to improve performance, and the first 

four panels of the upper liquid oxygen tank 

area were of "thick-skin" materials designed 

to support high aerodynamic loads. "Postlaunch Report for MA-4." Moreover, a threesecond hold-down was programmed for MA-4. 

Tests conducted by the Rocketdyne Division, 

North American Aviation, indicated that a 

two-second hold-down was adequate for Mercury-modified Atlas engines. So for flights beginning with MA- 5, STG officials planned to 

institute the two-second procedure. 

5 NASA News Release 61-182, "MercuryAtlas 4," Aug. 20, 1961; "Project Mercury 

Technical Information Summary of MercuryAtlas Mission No. 4/ 8A (Capsule No. 8A)," 

NASA/STG, July 21, 1961. The Mercury 

ground tracking communications network at 

this time had 140,000 actual circuit miles, 

consisting of 100,000 miles of the teletype circuits, 35,000 of telephone circuits, and 5000 of 

high-speed telemetry circuits. 

6 "Pre-release Draft on Launch Vehicle 

(MA-4) ," STG, undated; "Mercury-Atlas 

4"; "Project Mercury Calculated Preflight 

Trajectory Data for Mercury-Atlas Mission 

No. 4 (MA-4) (Capsule No. 8A, Atlas No. 

88-D) ," NASA Project Mercury working 

paper No. 204, Aug. 2, 1961. The nominal 

launch trajectory was computed by the Aerospace Corp. and Space Technology Labs. under the technical direction of the Space Task 

Group. The abort sensing and implementation system continued monitoring during the 

entire powered phase. If trouble developed, 

585 
gyg p

altitude, and flight course. If those factors 

anticipated a successful orbital insertion, the 

ground guidance computer, in operation 

shortly after booster engine cutoff, would 

initiate the shut-down command to the sustainer engine. 

7 "Project Mercury Mission Directive for 

Mercury-Atlas No. 4 (Capsule No. 8A)," 

NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 203, 

July 28, 1961; "Project Mercury Addendum 

Data Report for Mercury-Atlas Mission 4 

(MA-4, Capsule 8A) ," NASA Project Mercury 

working paper No. 218, Nov. 29, 1961. 

8 "Preflight Trajectory Data for MA-4." 

9 Letter, Williams, STG, to Cdr., DesFlotFour, June 8, 1961, with enclosure, "Project 

Mercury, Mercury-Atlas No. 4 Recovery Requirements." The recovery forces consisted of 

8 destroyers, 12 aircraft, a landing ship dock, 

and a utility vessel. Williams also stipulated 

secondary-zone recovery requirements and 

called for a nine-hour watch. In plotting 

contingency recovery areas, STG's planners 

had to allow for trajectory alteration resulting 

from the added thrust of escape rockets or retrofire in an abort. 

10 Williams letter; "Mission Directive for 

MA-4." William T. Lauten, Jr., said of the 

sofar bombs that during the program they 

jokingly referred to one as the sofar bomb and 

t,o the other, which was set to detonate several 

thousand feet beneath the waves, as the "solong bomb." 

11 "Storms Hit 2 Mercury Trackers," Newport News Times-Herald, Sept. 12, 1961; 

"Postlaunch Report for MA-4"; Williams, 

interview. 

12 Memo, Carl R. Huss to Flight Dir., "Postlaunch Report on Test 1254," Sept. 15, 1961; 

Purser, penciled notes on MA-4 countdown 

and flight, Sept. 13, 1961; memo, Walter J. 

Kapryan, Capsule Systems Monitor, to Flight 

Dir., "Report on Test 1254," Sept. 29, 1961; 

memo, Tecwyn Roberts to Flight Dir., "Report on Test 1254," Sept. 25, 1961. Countdown procedures for MA-4 resembled those of 

the Mercury-Redstone missions. They were 

conducted in a 500-minute split-count with a 

12- to 14-hour hold at T minus 300 for peroxide and pyrotechnics servicing. When the 

MA-4 count began Sept. 12 the operations 

586 

p

reviews and a peroxide check, plus the prob

lems described in the text, accounted for hold

totaling 2 hours and 4 minutes during count

down. 

13 "Postlaunch Report for MA-4" ; Kaprya

memo. 

H Memo, unsigned, to Flight Dir., "Verba

Debriefing at End of Flight-Test 1254," Sep

13, 1961; Purser notes; SchIer memo. Th

crewman simulator was a gray box, 24 by 1

by 8 inches, which took oxygen out of th

environmental control system, emitted carbo

dioxide, simulated minor suit leakage of oxygen

and initiated dumping. NASA News Releas

61-206, "News Conference, Mercury-Atla

No.4," Sept. 13, 1961. 

1G Purser notes; "Project Mercury Statu

Report No. 12 for Period Ending October 31

1961," undated; Roberts memo; memo, Net

work Control Group to Flight Dir., "Networ

Control Group (NCG) Report on Test 1254,

undated; memo, Alan B. Shepard to Fligh

Dir., "Report on Test 1254," undated; "Post

launch Report for MA-4." During the mis

sion several Mercury astronauts deployed t

some of the remote tracking stations; Carpen

ter to Muchea, Australia; Cooper to Poin

Arguello, Calif.; Schirra to Guaymas, Mexico

Slayton to Bermuda. Glenn, Grissom, an

Shepard were in the control center at Cap

Canaveral, with Shepard serving as Capsul

Communicator. (Message, STG to NASA 

Hq., Sept. 9, 1961.) This was the first tim

that the automatic stabilization and contro

system, the reaction control system, and th

horizon scanner subsystem could be fully evalu

ated for orbital missions. The mission prove

that the attitude control system was adequat

for reentry. 

16 Kapryan memo; Purser notes; memo

George M. Low to NASA Administrator, "Pre

liminary Results of MA-4 Flight," Sept. 15

1961. R/A John L. Chew, commanding De

stroyer Flotilla Four, said at the Cape pres

conference following the flight that the sea

were running only about a foot high in th

recovery area-which meant that hurrican

Debbie was ineffective in those waters. Dur

ing the spacecraft's descent, a C-54 aircraf

sighted its reentry contrails, shortly thereafte

noted deployment of the main parachute, and 
with the exception of the radar chaff. "Postlaunch Report for MA-4." 

11 "Status Report No. 12." 

18 Kapryan memo; Purser notes; Low memo. 

19 "News Conference, Mercury-Atlas No.4." 

The principals at the news conference included 

Gilruth, Williams, R/A Chew, Col. R. S. 

Maloney, Col. Paul R. Wignall, Astronaut Virgil I. Grissom, and John A. Powers. 

20 Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 147; 

NASA News Release 61-207, "Manned Space 

Flight Laboratory Location," undated; memo, 

Gilruth to staff, "Location of New Site for 

Space Task Group," Sept. 19, 1961. The team 

had surveyed sites in Tampa and Jacksonville, 

Fla.; New Orleans, Baton Rouge, Bogalusa, and 

Shreveport, La.; Houston, Beaumont, Corpus 

Christi, Victoria, Liberty, and Harlingen, Tex. ; 

St. Louis, Mo.; Los Angeles, Berkeley, San 

Diego, Richmond, Moffett Field, and San Francisco, Calif.; and Boston, Mass. I. Edward 

Campagna, interview, Houston, June 16, 1963; 

"Manned Spacecraft Center," NASA/MSC 

brochure, June 1964. The Humble Oil and 

Refining Co. detached two tracts from acreage formerly operated as the Clear Lake Ranch 

and donated them to Rice University. Tract 

No. 1, consisting of 600 acres, was bought by 

the Government for $1,400,000. Tract No.2, 

of 1020 acres, was donated to the Government, 

the tracts being transferred simultaneously. 

J. Wallace Ould, Chief Legal Counsel, MSC, 

interview, Houston, Sept. 24, 1964. 

21 "Manned Space Flight Laboratory Location"; Robert L. Rosholt, An Administrative 

History of NASA , 1958-1963, NASA SP-4101 

(Washington, 1966); S t e p hen B. Oates, 

"NASA's Manned Spacecraft Center at Houston, Texas," Southwestern Historical Quarterly, 

LXVII (Jan. 1964) . An editorial, "A Long 

View of What We Lost," in the Newport News 

Daily Press, of Oct. 3, 1961, reflects the public 

sentiment on the Virginia peninsula on the 

announced departure of the Space Task Group. 

22 Houston Chronicle, Oct. 11, 1961. 

23 Houston Chronicle, Houston Post, Houston Press, Sept. 21 , 1961; "Manned Spacecraft 

Center Has Moved to Houston," NASA/MSC 

brochure, Aug. 1962. Activities of the new 

spacecraft center were housed in temporary 

facilities: Farnsworth and Chambers Building, Site 2, headquarters; Rich Building, Site 

Gemini, Apollo, and Flight Operations Division; East End State Bank Building, Site 6, 

Personnel and Security Divisions; Office City, 

Site 7, Flight Crew Operations Division; Ellington Air Force Base, Site 8, Procurement, Financial Management, Photographic Services and 

Supply; Minneapolis-Honeywell Building, Site 

9, Public Affairs Office; Canada Dry Building, 

Site 10, Technical Services Division; KHOUTV Building, Site 11, Data Computation and 

Reduction Division; Peachy Building, Site 12, 

Facilities Division. Later on, the center occupied additional temporary quarters in the 

Franklin Development Center and in a building formerly occupied by the Veterans Administration, and these became sites 13 and 

14. The designation Site 1 was given to the 

Clear Lake site. "Manned Spacecraft Center Interim Facilities," NASA/MSC brochure, 

Aug. 15, 1963. 

24 "Houston Relocation Office Opens," 

Newport News Times-Herald, Sept. 27, 1961; 

memos, Wesley L. Hjornevik to staff, "Relocation Information Center," Oct. 5, 1961, and 

"Procedure for a Permanent Change of Duty 

Station," Nov. 1, 1961; memo, W. Kemble 

Johnson (Relocation Supervisor), to staff, 

"Relocation Plans," Oct. 18, 1961; memo, 

Purser to staff, "Designation of STG as 

'Manned Spacecraft Center,''' Nov. 1, 1961; 

memo, unsigned, "Manned Spacecraft Center 

Building Facilities Requirements," Oct. 13, 

1961. 

25 Purser, log for Gilruth, May 15, 1961; 

Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 129. 

2e Memo, G. Barry Graves to those concerned, "May 16, 1961, Discussion of Proposed Scout Orbital Launch from Cape 

Canaveral," May 17, 1961. James T. Rose. 

interview, St. Louis, April 13, 1966. 

21 Memo, Purser to Gilruth, "Meeting on 

Proposed Scout Range Test," May 18, 1961. 

Those attending the meeting, held May 17, 

decided the flight should be scheduled for 

August. 

28 Purser, log for Gilruth, June 1, 1961; 

memo, Abe Silverstein to Robert C. Seamans, 

Jr., "Use of Blue Scout for Checkout of 

Mercury Network," May 24, 1961. Because 

of technical difficulties, the Mercury-Scout cost 

was about three times the $130,000 estimated 

587 
Scout Test," June 22, 1961; memo, North to 

Deputy Dir., Space Flight Programs, NASA, 

"Mercury Status Items for Project Review 

Meeting-June 27, 1961," June 27, 1961. 

30 "Project Mercury, Summary of Calculated 

Preflight Trajectory Data for the Mercury Network Test Vehicle, MNTV-1," NASA Project 

Mercury working paper No. 200, July 12, 

1961; "Project Mercury Mission Directive for 

Mercury-Scout Mission No.1 (MS-1)," NASA 

Project Mercury working paper No. 201, July 

21, 1961. The formal objectives of the 

Mercury-Scout mission were: (1) test realtime orbital computing capability at Goddard ; 

(2) check ou t radar digital system and flow 

of digital data to the computer; (3) tailor 

the computation to the quality of data received by radar; (4) determine any interference that might exist between communications and data traffic; (5) determine the extent 

of system errors at radar sites, e.g., antenna 

misalignment, possible errors of surveyed position; (6) evaluate the updated radar procedures and revise as necessary; and (7) evaluate 

telemetry signal reception and operation of 

acquisition aids. "Status Report No. 11," 20. 

31 "Preflight Trajectory Data for the Mercury Test Vehicle, MNTV-1"; "Mission Directive for Mercury-Scout Mission No. I." 

32 "Status Report No. 12," 21-22; "Status 

Report No. 11," 21; memo, Williams to Low, 

"Qualification Tests on Mercury-Scout Payload," July 24, 1961 ; memo, Low to D. 

Brainerd Holmes, "Dynamic Checkout of the 

Mercury Ground Network with MercuryScout," Nov. 8, 1961. 

33 "Project Mercury Status Report No. 13 

for Period Ending Jan. 31, 1962," NASA/STG. 

According to the agreement with the Air Force, 

a launch team from that service was to be used. 

Letter, Williams to Air Force Systems Command, "Mercury Network Test Vehicle," July 

7, 1961; Williams interview. 

3{ Low memo. Some nine days after the 

failure of the Mercury-Scout-1, a one-and-ahalf-pound squirrel monkey named Goliath 

was lost in an Air Force Atlas launching mishap. Thirty-five seconds after the rocket 

roared skyward, an explosion destroyed the 

tiny occupant of a small aluminum cylinder in 

the nose cone. Some newsmen, questioning 

588 

reliability program. So, Goliath notwit

standing, there was no change of plan

Baytown (Texas) Sun, Nov. 10,1961; Housto

Chronicle, Nov. 17, 1961. 

35 Washington Post, Nov. 19, 1961 ; Houst

Chronicle, Nov. 12, 1961. Even members 

Congress began publicly speculating on t

date of the manned Right. Rep. Olin 

Teague told an audience at Texas Agricultur

and Mechanical College that he understo

the tentative date was Dec. 6. Rep. Victor 

Anfuso predicted the flight would go on De

20. Newport News Daily Press, Oct. 25, 196

Washington Post, Dec. 3, 1961. 

38 Purser, log for Gilruth, Sept. 13, 196

Washington Evening Star, Nov. 19 and 2

1961. 

37 David S. Akens et aI., History of t

George C. Marshall Space Flight Cent

(Huntsville, Ala., 1960-1962), I, 25-2

Houston Post, Oct. 22, 1961. 

38 "Status Report No.9"; memo, Lo

to Assoc. Administrator, "MA-5 Laun

Schedule," Oct. 18, 1961. 

19 "Status Report No. 11"; Low memo. 

'0 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report f

Mercury-Atlas No.5 (MA-5)," NASA/MS

Dec. 6, 1961; "Project Mercury Mission D

rective for Mercury-Atlas 5 (Capsule 9)

Project Mercury working paper No. 208, Oc

20, 1961. 

n Ibid.; "'Project Mercury, Mercury-Atl

No.5 Recovery Requirements," NASA/STG

Oct. 5, 1961; "Detailed Test Objectives f

NASA Mission MA-5," Aerospace Corp., Au

31, 1961. Objectives of MA-5 were (1) dem

onstrate spacecraft structural integrity, inclu

ing that of ablation shield and afterbody shi

gles, (2) evaluate spacecraft systems perform

ance during flight, (3) determine reent

motion, (4) determine vibration levels, (5

demonstrate launch vehicle and spacecra

compatibility, (6) demonstrate life-support c

pability in a three-orbit mission, (7) evalua

abort sensing and implementation system, (8

demonstrate capability of ground comman

control equipment, (9) evaluate network a

quisition aids, and (10) evaluate telemet

performance. "Mission Directive for MA-5

42 "Mercury-Atlas No.5 Recovery Requir

ments." 
Mercury working paper No. 207, Oct. 19, 1961. 

The Atlas rocket was tracked through five orbits. On the fourth the perigee was 93 miles 

and the apogee 118 miles. "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No.5." 

43 "Mission Directive for MA-5." Before 

his arrival at the Cape, Enos had received 1263 

hours of training over a 16-month period, including 343 hours under restraint. Results of 

the Project Mercury Ballistic and Orbital 

Chimpanzee Flights, NASA SP-39 (Washington, 1963),39. 

46 Norman E. Stingely and John D. Mosely, 

"MA-5 Operations," in Results of the Mercury 

Chimpanzee Flights, 35; Jerry Fineg, inte~­

view, Holloman AFB, Sept. 15 and 25, 1964; 

Huntsville (Ala.) Times, Nov. 29, 1961; Washington Evening Star, Dec. 1, 1961; New York 

Times, Nov. 30, 1961; Houston Chronicle, 

Nov. 12, 1961. The intelligence of these chimpanzees was remarkable. One of their training 

tasks was to pull a lever exactly 50 times, and 

for his accuracy the animal received a reward 

of a banana pellet. More or less than 50 

pulls caused the training unit to recycle without giving any reward. Stanley C. White 

of MSC medical operations told a reporter 

that the chimps would pull the lever "bangitybangity-bang" about 45 times, then carefully 

pull Nos. 46, 47, 48, and 49, and finally 

make pull No. 50 with one hand cupped 

under the dispenser to receive the reward. 

(Washington Evening Star, Nov. 28, 1961.) 

In a training test at Holloman a chimp working on a flashing-light problem pulled levers 

7000 times in 70 minutes, making only 28 

errors. Kenneth F. Weaver, "School for Space 

Monkeys," in "Countdown for Space," National Geographic, reprinted from the May 

1961 magazine, 727. Also see article in Aerospace, XXXIV (March 1963). 

47 "Postlaunch Memorandurn Report for 

Mercury-Atlas No.5." 

48 "MA-5 Data Acquisition Plan," NASAl 

STG, Oct. 20, 1961. 

49 "Mercury Personnel Man Worldwide 

Tracking Sites During MA-5 Mission," anon., 

NASA/STG, undated; "Status Report No. 

12"; "MA-5 Plan," anon., undated. 

50 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

Mercury-Atlas No.5." 

51 William Hines in the Washington Eve

that U.S. Can Orbit Man Before Years End, 

Aviation Week, LXXV (Dec. 4,1961) . 

52 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

Mercury-Atlas No.5." 

53 Memo, Roberts to Flight Dir., "Report 

on Test 1810 (MA-5) ," Dec. 5, 1961; memo, 

SchIer to Flight Dir., "Report on Test 1810 

(MA-5) ," Dec. 4, 1961. 

54 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

Mercury-Atlas No. 5." Communications with 

the tracking stations were very good during 

countdown, and there was little interference. 

Curiously, however, there was a brief period of 

interference from Radio Moscow just before 

liftoff. "Debriefing-Test 1810," anon., Nov. 

29, 1961. 

55 Roberts memo. 

56 Memo, Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., "Flight 

Director's Report on Test 1810 (MA-5 )," 

Nov. 30, 1961; "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No.5"; "DebriefingTest 1810." At his press conference in Washington, President Kennedy . got a round of 

laughter when he said, "This chimpanzee who 

is flying in space took off at 1 0 : 08. He reports that everything is perfect and working 

well." Baltimore Sun, Nov. 30, 1961. 

67 Ibid.; NASA News Release, "MA-5 News 

Conference," Nov. 29, 1961. Williams, in interview Aug. 23, 1965, recalled that communications with California had been disrupted 

momentarily by a tractor somewhere in Arizona that plowed up a telephone cable. 

68 Stingely and Mosely, "MA-5 Operations," 

41-50; "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

Mercury-Atlas No.5." On the continuousavoidance, discrete-avoidance problem, Enos 

received his first shock of the first sessions 

about 15 minutes from launch and the second 

at the 201-minute point (after he had been 

weigh tless for 3 hours) . He then pulled the 

lever correctly for the last 3 presentations before the psychomotor device turned off 207 

minutes after launch. 

During the first orbit, in the range of the 

Zanzibar tracking site, Mercury surgeon White 

noted that Enos' ventricular contractions had 

become more rapid. This White believed to 

be normal for the postacceleration period. 

The chimpanzee's respiration rate had risen 

with the onset of flight and the increase in his 

activity. His respiration rate was 21 and his 

589 
for Mercury-Atlas No.5." 

61 Ibid.; SchIer memo. 

62 Kraft memo; Arabian memo; "MA-5 

News Conference." The spacecraft used 14.5 

pounds of control fuel from retrofire to fuel 

jettison. Thirty pounds of fuel were dumped 

when the main parachute deployed. 

03 Kraft memo; "Postlaunch Memorandum 

Report for Mercury-Atlas No.5"; "Unofficial 

Record of Events-MA-5, November 28 [sic], 

1961," anon. On Nov. 2, 1961, Low remarked 

to Purser that MA-5 should be announced as 

a one-orbit mission that might be allowed to 

go three orbits. (Purser, log for Gilruth, Nov. 

7, 1961.) MA-5's total recovery force, for 

the support of aborts, primary, and contingency 

landing areas consisted of 17 ships and 13 

airplanes. 

64 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

Mercury-Atlas No.5." The drogue and main 

parachutes were not recovered, but the Earthsky camera confirmed that they had functioned 

without damage. The drogue deployed at 

21,000 feet and the main chute at 10,000. 

66 "MA- 5 News Conference." 

60 Washington Evening Star, Dec. 1, 1961; 

New York Times, Dec. 1, 1961; Chicago Tribune, Dec. 1, 1961; Results of the Mercury 

Chimpanzee Flights, 38, 54. A little less than 

a year later, on Nov. 4, 1962, Enos died of 

dysentery caused by shigellosis, which resists 

antibiotics. He had been under night-and-day 

observation for two months before his death. 

Pathologists at Holloman reported that they 

found no symptom that could be attributed 

or related to his space Aight a year before . 

67 New York Times, Dec. 1, 1961; Kolcum, 

"Chimp Shot Raises Hope that U .S. Can 

Orbit Man Before Year's End"; Washington 

Evening Star, Dec. 6, 1961 . The fact that 

Christmas leaves of absence for thousands of 

naval personnel in the recovery forces might 

have to be canceled without assurance that the 

flight schedule would be kept also entered into 

the decision to postpone MA-6, Williams said 

in inte"rview. 

68 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 87 Cong., 2 sess. (1962), Aeronautical 

and Astronautical Events of 1961, 71; Balti-' 

more Sun, Dec. 7, 1961; Low memo. 

590 

nautical and Aeronautical Events of 196

15-16. 

2 Washington Evening Star, Feb. 4, 196

New York Times, Feb. 4, 1962; Washingto

Post, Feb. 6 and 19, 1962; Shirley Thoma

Men of Space (Philadelphia, 1962), V, 29-3

"MA-6 Advisory," 5 p.m., Feb. 15, 1962. 

3 Space News Roundup, MSC, I (Feb. 

1962); "Project Mercury Status Report No

for Period Ending Oct. 31,1959," STG, 4

"Project Mercury Status Report No. 6 f

Period Ending April 30, 1960," STG, 3

"Project Mercury Status Report No. 8 f

Period Ending Oct. 31, 1960," STG, 4

Project Mercury Status Report No. 10 f

Period Ending April 30, 1961," STG, 3

"Project Mercury Status Report No. 11 f

Period Ending July 31, 1961," STG, 37; "Pro

ect Mercury Status Report No. 12 for Peri

Ending Oct. 31, 1961," STG, 34. The flig

schedule chart in October 1961 showed 

MA-6 alternate mission. This meant that 

the Enos (MA-5) flight had not succeed

another chimpanzee mission, designated MA-

would have been flown. 

4 Paul E. Purser, compilation of excerp

from messages regarding spacecraft No. 1

Ms., George F. Killmer et al., "Project Me

cury Technical History-PreAight Operations

MSC Florida Operations, Dec. 30, 1963, 10

111. 

G Memo, Robert B. Voas to Mercury astr

nauts, "Suggested Activities for 0 r bit 

Flights," Sept. 18, 1961. 

6 Ibid. 

7 Interview, Jocelyn R. Gill, Houston, Oc

11, 1965. 

B NASA, "Summary Minutes: Astronom

Subcommittee of the NASA Space Scienc

Steering Committee (Meeting No.8) ," Dec. 

1961, and App. I, "Suggested Astronomic

Tasks for the Mercury Astronauts," Nov. 

1961. 

9 Memo, Voas to Williams, "Astronau

Preparation for Orbital Flight," Sept. 2

1961 ; "Project Mercury Astronaut Preparatio

for Orbital Flight," NASA Project Mercu

working paper No. 206, Oct. 13, 1961. 

10 Ibid. 

11 Ibid. In the event of slow pitch u

thrust, the astronaut was to assume manu
p

whether earlier entry was necessary. 

12 "Project Mercury Astronaut Preparation 

and Activities Manual for Mercury-Atlas Mission 6 (MA-6, Spacecraft 13)," NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 215, Dec. 1, 

1961. 

13 NASA, "Summary Minutes: Ad Hoc 

Committee on Astronomical Tasks for the Mercury Astronauts," Jan. 11, 1962. 

U NASA, "Summary Minutes: Ad Hoc 

Committee on Astronomical Tasks for the Mercury Astronaut (Meeting No.2) ," Dec. 20, 

1961. 

16 "Astronaut Preparation and Activities 

Manual for MA-6." 

18 "Project Mercury Status Report No. 13 

for Period Ending Jan. 31,1962," STG, 15,23; 

"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No. 6 (MA-6), Part I, Mission 

Analysis," March 5, 1962; memo, Richard M. 

Dunham to Voas, "Personnel Survival Equipment Exercise for 217/62," Feb. 8, 1962. The 

life vest was fabricated as a solution for Grissom's swimming problem at the end of the 

MR-4 mission. The inflated vest had a bulk 

of less than 20 cubic inches and weighed less 

than a pound. Results of the First United 

States Manned Orbital Space Flight, February 

20, 1962 (Washington, 1962),39. Also John 

H. Glenn, J r., "I'll Have to Hit a Keyhole in 

the Sky," Life, LI (Dec. 8,1961). 

17 "Status Report No. 13," 24; James M. 

Grimwood, Project Mercury: A Chronology, 

NASA SP-400 1 (Washington, 1963), 157; 

memo, Eugene F. Kranz to Christopher C. 

Kraft, Jr., "Report on Test 5460 (MA-6) ," 

Feb. 20, 1962. The flotation collar mentioned in the swimmer-training program resulted partly from the loss of Grissom's spacecraft. I t was also the product of two years' 

work, and credit for its design must go to Donald E. Stullken of the Pensacola Naval Air 

Station. Early in the Mercury program the 

engineers realized that their hope of adapting 

a 20-man life raft to keep a spacecraft afloat 

was not feasible. The "Stullken collar" passed 

its final test on Jan. 3, 1962. At that time 

50 collars had been made at Pensacola and 

delivered to the recovery forces. In an earlier 

test, off Wallops Island, one of the collars had 

kept the MR-2 capsule afloat for 70 hours in 

waves up to 7 feet high. The collar was made 

ppp, 

MSC, I (Jan. 10, 1962),23. 

18 "Project Mercury Mission Directive for 

Mercury-Atlas Mission 6 (MA-6, Spacecraft 

13) ," NASA Project Mercury working paper 

No. 216, Dec. 15, 1961; "Project Mercury, 

Mercury-Atlas No.6 Recovery Requirements," 

Dec. 2, 1961. The latter document said that 

reentry (.05 g) would start about 60 miles west 

of Florida's Atlantic coast. Recovery forces 

were told that as a safety measure the ground 

track was set to continue 1000 miles beyond the 

third orbit landing area and that the explosive egress hatch had been modified to keep 

the cover from traveling more than two feet. 

Several ships had their cranes or davits 

fitted with a "shepherd's crook," consisting of 

a 16-foot aluminum pole with a hardened stainless-steel hook at the cable end which was 

capable of lifting 10,000 pounds. ("Technical Information Summary for Mercury-Atlas 

Mission 6 (MA-6, Spacecraft 13) ," NASA/ 

MSC, Dec. 19, 1961; "Detailed Test Objectives, NASA Mission No. MA-6, Project Mercury, Contract No. AF 04(647)-930," Aerospace Corp., Nov. 10, 1961.) A planning 

document for the MA-4 mission had indicated 

that the Atlas hold-down time would be three 

seconds, to assure that combustion would 

smooth out; thereafter, beginning with MA-5, 

the time would be reduced to two seconds. For 

MA-6 the hold-down time still was listed for 

three seconds duration. 

19 "NASA Note to Editors," Dec. 5, 1961. 

20 "Public Information Operating Plan, 

Project Mercury MA-6," NASA, undated; 

NASA News Release 62-8, "Mercury-Atlas 6 

at a Glance," Jan. 21, 1962. For a descriptive impression of the MA-6 mission, see Ralph 

O. Shankle, The Twins of Space (Philadelphia, 

1964),77-100. During that mission, Shankle 

was a member of the MSC Public Affairs Office. 

In an interview, John A. "Shorty" Powers on 

Nov. 12, 1965, said that in his opinion the 

delays preceding the Glenn flight produced 

some helpful effects in the way of news reporting. Stories about the "type of hats that 

Annie [Glenn's wife] was wearing" began to 

play out. The reporters were forced to become more technically conversant if they were 

to file stories that would keep their editors 

happy as well as justify the Florida expense 

accounts. 

591 
NASA News Release 62, Mercury Recovery 

Force;" undated; Space News Roundup, I 

(Feb. 7, 1962). On the morning of Jan. 

27, Glenn's military service boss, Gen. David 

M. Shoup, the Marine Corps Commandant, 

joined him for breakfast. The name Glenn 

chose for his spacecraft, Friendship 7, was 

painted on No. 13 by artist Cecilia Bibby. 

See DOD Representative for Project Mercury 

Support Operations, Final Report to the Secretary of Defense on Department of Defense 

Support of Project Mercury: For the Period 1 

July 1959 through 13 June 1963, approved 

by Leighton I. Davis, Maj. Gen., USAF, 11 

Sept. 1963, Chart 6, 15. Also see "Man 

Marked to Do Great Things," Life, LII (Feb. 

2, 1962). 

23 Washington Evening Star, Jan. 31, Feb. 

4, 1962 ; Washington Post, Feb. 6, 1962; N ational Observer, Feb. 4, 1962; New York Times, 

Feb. 6, 1962; Los Angeles Times, Jan. 31, 

1962; New York Herald Tribune, Feb. 4, 

1962; Washington Daily News, Feb. 7, 1962. 

:u "NASA News Briefing at the Starlite 

Paladium." 

2S "MA-6 Advisory," NASA, 5 p.m., Feb. 

15, 1962; "MA-6 Advisory," 5 p.m., Feb. 19, 

1962; ' Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-6." 

26 "MA-6 Advisory," Feb. 19, 1962; Richard Dunham, John J. Van Boeke), and Paul 

W. Backer, "Continuation of MA-6 Debriefing," March 7, 1962. 

27 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-6"; "Procedures Log," Mercury Control 

Center, Feb. 20, 1962; Space News Roundup, 

I (Feb. 21, 1962). 

28 Ibid.; Kranz memo; memo, Stanley C. 

White to Kraft, "Summary Report on Test 

5460 (MA-6) ," Feb. 22, 196~ 

29 "Procedures Log"; White memo. 

30 On launch day cloud masses continued to 

hover over the launch area, causing many of 

the newsmen present to bet "no liftoff today." 

A little after 7 a.m. one of the Cape weather 

men, Harlan G. Higgins, noticed that the wind 

was shifting to drive the clouds away and that 

the temperature was becoming cooler. He 

quickly phoned Ernest A. Amman, the weather 

support man in Mercury Control, and told 

him that the chances for launch now looked 

promising. 

592 

auc,eb. 0, 96. .ote stoy ot

people on the beaches, see New York Time

Feb. 20, 1962. The impatience of some of th

news personnel was understandable. A Ne

York Times correspondent reported in mi

February that the often-postponed Glenn flig

had already cost the broadcasters $2 millio

and that each day of delay cost them anoth

$50,000. Newspaper and magazine costs we

estimated at about a third of those figure

New York Times, Feb. 17, 1962. Also s

"Liftoff! for John Glenn and His Family

Life, LII (March 2, 1962); "Liftoff and Upli

for the U .S.," Life, LII (March 2, 1962

"He Hit That Keyhole in the Sky," Life, L

(March 2, 1962) ; "At School All Systems A

Go," Life, LII (March 9, 1962); D. J. Ham

blin, "Applause, Tears and Laughter and th

Emotions of a Long-Ago Fourth .of July," Lif

LII (March 9, 1962); "Hero's Words 

Cherish," Life, LII (March 9,1962); J.oh

Glenn, Jr., "If You're Shook Up You Shouldn

Be There," Life, LII (March 9,1962). 

33 White memo; "Postlaunch Memorandu

Report for MA-6." The General Electri

Burroughs booster-guidance system performe

an interesting operation. Aboard the Atl

were three small black boxes, tw.o of the

similar to tw.o-way radi.os. A radar on th

ground automatically tracked signals emanatin

from these boxes, detennining range and pos

tion. The operation for the MA-6 missio

progressed along the following pattern: A fe

minutes before launch time Michael Michel

the GE rate console operator, flipped a switc

that pointed the rate antennas in the same d

rections as the precise tracking radar. Th

was to obtain velocity data. Thomas Wai

the track console operator, pushed a butto

to place the guidance system in automatic ope

ati.on. Guidance system signals were aime

on a "cube in space" several hundred feet abov

the booster. It was simply a matter of waitin

until the booster passed through this are

when the signals locked onto a radi.o tran

ponder and the system began steering th

launch vehicle after staging. This conditio

was maintained until orbital conditions we

attained. The system had operated s.ome 800

hours before MA-6, and some members .of th

guidance team, consisting of Rodney Borum

John Savarie, Donald Wood, Waid, Robe
tronics Div., General Electric Co., undated.) 

During the powered phase of the flight, Kraft 

was notified that signals from a foreign C-band 

radar transmitter had been intercepted, but 

the operations team was unable to identify the 

source. ("Procedures Log.") The guidance 

equations were developed by C. L. Pitman, 

Robert Page, and Duncan McPherson of the 

Space Technology Laboratories. John P. 

Mayer, comments, Sept. 8, 1965. 

3~ "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-6" ; "Procedures Log." At sustainer cutoff Glenn was not only aware of weightlessness but felt as though he were tumbling. 

Shepard and Grissom reported the same sensation. The apogee of Glenn's flight was 162 

miles; the perigee, 100 miles. 

35 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-6"; "Continuation of MA-6 Debriefing." 

Glenn felt no angular acceleration during turnaround. 

36 Ibid. 

:;7 "Test 5460, Composite Message Summary," Mercury Control Center, Feb. 20, 1962. 

Over the Kano area on the first pass, Glenn 

opened his faceplate and ate a xylose (sugar) 

pill and his tube of applesauce without difficulty. (Results of the First United States 

Manned Orbital Space Flight, 153.) In the 

Zanzibar area Glenn worked out briefly with 

his exercis-er, and the tracking station noted a 

temporary increase in his pulse rate to 140. 

38 The engineers later stated that these disagreements were inherent and would crop up 

whenever major yaw or roll attitudes deviated 

from zero degrees for an extended period of 

time. In other words, the gyro "readouts" on 

the panel, which were reporting an attitude 

change of about four degrees per minute, were 

considerably behind Glenn's quickly slewing 

yaw maneuver. Consequently the best procedure when executing such an operation was 

to stop the revolving gyroscopes, an action 

called "caging." 

39 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-6"; "Test 5460, Composite Message Summary" ; "Transcript of Announcements by 

John Powers"; "Continuation of MA-6 Debriefing." Upon meeting the mayor of Perth 

later, Glenn remarked facetiously that he had 

half-expected the mayor to hand him an electric bill. An attempt to observe the airport 

g

For other comments on Glenn's observations 

while in orbit see "National Aeronautics and 

Space Administration," Astronomical Journal, 

67, No.9, Nov. 1962,655. 

40 "Procedures Log" ; "Continuation of MA6 Debriefing." The particles appeared to be 

about YIn inch in diameter and to be traveling 

at about the same speed as the spacecraft. 

U "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-6." On Feb. 26, 1962, postflight inspectors disassembled the thrust chamber systems 

and found some loose particles upstream of the 

fuel-metering orifices. These were found to 

be pieces of the dutch-weave fuel-distribution 

screens. Fuel consumption during the first 

orbit was 4.2 pounds from the automatic tanks 

and .6 pound from the manual tanks. Those 

figures were nominal; control trouble did not 

develop until the flight had been in progress 

for an hour and 29 minutes. 

42 Ibid.; Space News Roundup, I (Feb. 21, 

1962); William Hines, "Segment 51," Washington Evening Star, March 16, 1962; Maxime 

A. Faget, interview, Houston, April 19, 1962. 

43 Postflight inspectors were unable to explain the secondary oxygen supply drop. For a 

report on Glenn's observational efforts, see John 

H. Glenn, Jr., "Summary Results of the First 

United States Manned Orbital Space Fight," 

in Life Sciences and Space Research, "A Session of the Third International Space Science 

Symposium," Washington, D.C., April 30­

May 9, 1962 (North Holland Publishing Company, Amsterdam, Netherlands, 1962), 173­

183. 

H "Procedures Log." 

,3 Ibid.; "Postlaunch Memorandum Report 

for MA-6"; "Test 5460, Composite Message 

Summary"; Results of the First United States 

Manned Orbital Space Flight, 190; "Continuation of MA-6 Debriefing." (8 Ibid. 

47 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-6." 

48 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report. for 

MA-6." At the moment of Glenn's splashdown, the Post Office issued a special 4-cent 

stamp commemorating the MA-6 mission 

("Transcript of Announcements by John 

Powers"). For a popular account of the MA-6 

mission, with excellent illustrations, see Robert 

B. Voas, "John Glenn's Three Orbits in Friend593 
ing bag problem, so that he could have been 

listening for sound clues. He seemed to be 

making the point that the pilot, as the thinking part of the man-machine team, should be 

allowed to participate in decision making. 

Scott Crossfield, one of the X-15 pilots, expressed this view well in the immediate postMA-6 period: "Where else would you get a 

non-linear computer weighing only 160 pounds, 

having a billion binary decision elements, that 

can be mass-produced by unskilled labor?" 

"Continuation of MA-6 Debriefing" ; Aviation 

Week, LXXVI (March 5,1962). 

60 Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 

1962, 18. See Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 87 Cong., 2 sess. 

(1962), Orbital Flight of John H. Glenn, Jr., 

for testimony of astronauts and NASA officials, 

Feb. 28, 1962. 

51 "Free World Media Treatment of First 

U.S. Orbital Flight," a file of reports assembled 

at NASA Hq., March 5, 1962. 

52 Aviation Week, LXXVI (Feb. 26,1962). 

Robert R. Gilruth also was the cover subject 

for Missiles and Rockets, X (March 19, 1962). 

The same issue of the magazine said in an 

editorial: "It is always a pleasure to sing about 

an unsung hero.... While Astronaut John 

Glenn was swinging around the earth in 

Friendship 7 ... Robert Gilruth had his feet 

planted firmly on the ground in Mercury 

Control." Gilruth had just been awarded the 

Robert H. Goddard Memorial Trophy on 

March 16, 1962, by the National Rocket Club. 

53 Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 

1962, 22, 27; Friendship 7 tour files, MSC 

Hist. Archives; Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 184. The text of Glenn's address to the 

joint session of Congress may be found in the 

Washington Post for Feb. 27, 1962. 

M Reports and photographs concerning the 

"Fourth Orbit of Friendship 7" are filed in the 

MSC Hist. Archives. 

65 Washington Post, Jan. 10,1962; Washington Evening Star, Jan. 6, 1962; David S. 

Akens, Paul K. Freiwirth, and Helen T. Wells, 

History of the George C. Marshall Space Flight 

Center (Huntsville, Ala., 1960-1962), I, 21; 

"Saturn Illustrated Chronology: April 1957­

June 1964," NASA/MSFC, Aug. 10, 1964, 

57 Ibid ., 3-33 ; Senate Subcommittee of th

Committee on Appropriations, 87 Cong., 

sess. (1962), Independent Offices Appropria

tions, 1963, Hearings, II, 1503; Washingto

Evening Star, Jan. 7, 1962. 

58 MSC announcement No.9, Ref. 2-2

"Establishment of the Mercury Project Office,

Jan. 15, 1962. 

50 MSC announcement No. 12, Ref. 2-2

"Personnel Assignments for Mercury an

Gemini Program Offices," Jan. 31, 1962; Mag

gie Taylor, Apollo Spacecraft Program Office

MSC, interview, Houston, Jan. 12, 196~

Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 220. 

60 Memo, Dir. of Personnel, MSC, to Phili

H. Whitbeck, "Status Report for the Personne

Office," Jan. 26, 1962. At the time of th

personnel survey about 400 to 500 could hav

been termed "old guard." The remainder

being essentialy "new hires," did not really car

whether they settled in Hampton or Houston

The 84 who chose not to go were mainly o

the "old guard." 

01 MSC announcement No. 21, Ref. 2-1

"Relocation of Manned Spacecraft Cente

Headquarters," Feb. 26, 1962. In reality th

Mercury Project Office moved into the Farns

worth-Chambers Building in Houston on Apr

16, 1962, a move that preceded the MA-

flight by a little over a month. 

62 Astronautical and Aeronautical Events o

1962, 36; Donald K. Slayton, interview

Houston, Dec. 16, 1964; letter, William 

Douglas to L. S. S., Jr., Aug. 17, 1965. 

63 During the December 1964 interview 

Slayton demurred at naming the civilian panel

bu t newsmen had been less reticen t. Se

Washington Post, March 16, 1962; New Yor

Times, March 16, 1962. For other material o

the Slayton case, see Mae M. Link, Spac

Medicine in Project Mercury, NASA SP-400

(Washington, 1965). Slayton was not ex

amined personally by Paul Dudley White unti

June 15, 1962. At that time speculation wa

revived about Slayton's possible selection for 

space flight. Washington Evening Star, June 

15, 1962. 

64 Washington Evening Star, March 21

1962 ; Slayton interview; Paul E. Purser, inter

view, Houston, Jan. 4, 1965. 

594 
astronaut of the succeeding mission in Project 

Mercury. Also see Loudon Wainwright, 

"Comes a Quiet Man to Ride Aurora," Life, 

LII (May 18, 1962). 

60 "Technical Information Summary for 

Mercury-Atlas Mission 7 (MA-7, Spacecraft 

18)," MSC, undated. 

G7 Gill interview; NASA, "Summary 

Minutes: Ad Hoc Committee on Scientific 

Tasks and Training for Man-in-Space (Meeting Nos. 1,2,3)," March 16,26, and April 18, 

1962. 

G8 NASA News Release 62-113, "MA-7 

Press Kit," May 13, 1962. 

69 "Project Mercury Mission Directive for 

Mercury-Atlas Mission 7 (MA-7, Spacecraft 

18)," NASA Project Mercury working paper 

No. 222, April 9, 1962; "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for MA-7"; Results of the Second United States Manned Orbital Space 

Flight, May 24, 1962, NASA SP-6 (Washington, 1962), 11-13. In the order listed in the 

text, the experiments were proposed by the 

Langley Research Center, Lewis Research 

Center, Massachusetts Institute of Technology 

Instrumentation Laboratory, the Weather 

Bureau, and Goddard Space Flight Center. 

70 Ibid. Airglow is an emission of light resulting from chemical reactions in the upper 

atmosphere. Various reactions produce light 

of different colors. In many cases, molecules 

of atmospheric gas are split by ultraviolet rays 

of sunshine. Then, when darkness comes, the 

gas molecules recombine, emitting light. The 

illumination of the sky at night usually comes 

from airglow instead of starlight. New York 

Times, June 3, 1962. Lawrence Dunkelman 

of Goddard provided Carpenter with the airglow device to make observations. Jocelyn 

Gill said this was the filter that had been 

planned for MA-6, but time did not permit 

Glenn to use it. 

71 Ibid.; "Project Mercury Quarterly Status 

Report No. 14 for Period Ending April 30, 

1962," NASA/MSC, May 25, 1962. John 

Mayer of MSC commented in September 1965, 

"that photos of the Russian spacecraft indicated that they had an almost identical earthpath indicator." Mayer went on to say that 

the indicator "was deleted from Mercury flights 

because it was of little use in the missions." 

7~ "Project Mercury Quarterly Status Report No. 14"; "Weekly Activity Report," 

MSC/Mercury Project Office, March 17, 1962; 

"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for MA-7." 

H Memo, Kraft to Williams et al., "MA-7 

Test Flight Reports," June 12, 1962; "Project Mercury Mission Directive for MercuryAtlas Mission 7"; Final Report to the Secretary 

of Defense on Support of Project Mercury, 

Chart 6, 15. The Indian Ocean picket ship 

Coastal Sentry (call name "Coastal Sentry 

Quebec") was stationed at the entrance to the 

Mozambique Channel off the sou theastern 

coast of Africa for MA-7. "MA-7 Press Kit." 

75 "Project Mercury Quarterly Status Report No. 14." The decision to add a barostat 

in the recovery arming circuit was a primary 

reason for delaying the MA-7 launch. After 

a review meeting on May 16, the engineers 

had decided that this action was necessary. 

Late that night the newsmen already at the 

Cape were advised. 

76 Kraft memo; memo, Harold 1. Johnson 

et al., to those concerned, "MA-7 Remote Site 

Operations Debriefing," June 1, 1962; "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for MA-7." 

77 Johnson memo. 

78 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-7." The New York Times for May 26, 

1962, reported the estimated number of teleVISIOn viewers. Cecilia Bibby was again selected as the artist to paint the name chosen 

by the astronaut. New York Times, May 28, 

1962. 

79 Kraft memo; "Postlaunch Memorandum 

Report for MA-7." 

80 Orbital insertion of Aurora 7 was almost 

ideal, the flight path angle and velocity being 

only .004 degree and 2 feet per second low, 

respectively. This provided an orbital trajectory of 89.96 miles (perigee) and 144.4 

miles (apogee). There was only one anomaly 

during the powered phase of the flight. The 

primary auxiliary cutoff signal for the sustainer 

engine was transmitted by the General ElectricBurroughs guidance system simultaneously with 

sustainer engine cutoff. The backup auxiliary 

sustainer cutoff signal had preceded this transmission by .44 second. But the abort enabling 

switch in the Control Center was in the normal 

posi tion; since both signals did not lock, an 

improper signal was prevented. If the launch 

595 
15 for Period Ending July 31, 1962," NASAl 

MSC.) Carpenter said the sensations of 

weightlessness were similar to those of skindiving. 

81 Kraft memo; "Postlaunch Memorandum 

Report for MA-7"; Results of the Second 

United States Manned Orbital Space Flight, 

78-79. Postflight inspection convinced several 

engineers that the malfunction of the horizon 

scanner circuit was a random component failure. Plans were made to try to recover the 

antenna canister on the next flight for postflight analysis of the scanner unit located in 

that component. ("Project Mercury Quarterly 

Status Report No. 15.") Concerning the undesirable suit temperatures, Frank H. Samonski, 

Jr., capsule environmental monitor, believed a 

partial freezing in the suit circuit caused an 

obstruction in the heat exchanger. Carpenter 

was comfortable once again by the end of the 

first orbi t; he was hot again during the second; 

and he finally got the suit temperature down 

to a comfortable level on the third. Suit inlet 

temperatures ranged between 62 degrees to 

about 86 degrees during the flight. In all, 

Carpenter made 13 attempts to adjust the 

setting to a comfortable range. 

82 Ibid.; Washington Sunday Star, March 

27, 1962. Carpenter later said that the periscope was not worth the weight and space it 

occupied in the spacecraft. This certainly 

would be true, he felt, when longer Mercury 

missions required more oxygen, water, and control fuel. On other aspects of the flight, Carpenter reported that he even saw a dirt road 

so clearly that he had the impression that if 

a vehicle had come along he could have seen 

it, too. In general, he found the daylight view 

from orbit similar to a view from a high-flying 

aircraft. He said that navigation at night 

might be accomplished by using a known star 

on the horizon. 

83 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-7." 

Ibid. 

80 Ibid.; Kraft memo. 

8() Ibid.; Newport News Times-Herald, 

June 7, 1962 ; Johnson memo. Carpenter also 

consumed a xylose tablet without difficulty. 

At about midway of the second orbit, the flight 

controller recommended that the pilot drink 

and that something should be done about th

chocolate items, which had melted in th

fluctuating warmth of the cabin. 

~ "Postlaunch Memorandum Report fo

MA-7." Shortly after retrofire the balloon 

disappeared, and about seven minutes later

Carpenter lost sight of the tether. 

88 Ibid.; Johnson memo; Grimwood, Mer

cury Chronology, 164-165. 

89 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report fo

MA-7." Also see Winifred Sawtell Cameron

Lt. Col. John H. Glenn, Lt. Cdr. M. Scot

Carpenter, and John A. O'Keefe, "Effect o

Refraction on the Setting Sun as Seen from 

Space in Theory and Observation," in th

Astronomical Journal, 68, No.5, June 1962

348-351. 

90 Results of the Second United State

Manned Orbital Space Flight, 92, 102-103

New York Times, June 3, 1962. Later, Law

rence Dunkelman at Goddard, using Carpen

ter's "Voasmeter" readings, judged the airglow 

layer to be about two degrees in width. Also

after the Carpenter mission, the Naval Research 

Laboratory began a study of the night airglow 

from pictures taken during rocket flights. Fo

the findings of this study see M. J. Koomen

Irene S. Gulledge, D. M. Packer, and R

Tousey, "Night Airglow Observations from 

Orbiting Spacecraft Compared with Measure

ments from Rockets," Science, Vol. 140, No

3571, June 7, 1963, 1087-1089. 

91 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report fo

MA-7." Out of 19 exposed frames, Carpente

was able to get two pictures of the "fireflies.

Evidence appeared in other photographs, bu

these pictures were not in focus. 

92 Kraft memo. 

93 Ibid.; Johnson memo; "Postlaunch 

Memorandum Report for MA-7." Joe Dod

son, in an interview, reported that about 18Y2 

pounds of fuel were depleted during the firs

10 minutes of reentry. Newport News Daily 

Press, June 6, 1962. When Carpenter switched 

on the ASCS, the spacecraft had a tendency to 

pitch down. Fuel conservation during the 

third orbit had prevented an adequate check

out of the ASCS before retrofire. 

94 Kraft memo; Johnson memo. The inte

rior smoke resulted not from the retrorockets 

596 


84 
of the Erroneous Landing Point," June 13, 

1962; New York Times, June 6, 1962. Almost immediately the tracking crews across the 

nation, beginning in California, confirmed that 

there would be about a 250-mile overshoot. 

98 Johnson memo. 

97 Ibid.; "PostIaunch Memorandum Report 

for MA-7." 

98 Johnson memo. After the MA-6 flight 

the Life Systems Division had conducted a 

manned test to investigate the reentry heating 

that had occurred. Results showed that closing 

the helmet visor before reentry and letting the 

suit circuit operate separately provided a more 

comfortable environment. At the same time 

it was decided to lengthen the suit inlet hose. 

("Activity Report, Life Systems Division," 

MSC, April 30, 1962.) After .05 g had been 

passed on Carpenter's flight, the liquid in the 

capillary tube began to drain. Thus the results tended to confirm capillary action theory. 

The ability to maintain a stable fluid position 

during angular acceleration imposed by the 

reaction control system indicated that this 

method of ullage control was valid. The results obtained during MA-7 could be extrapolated for propellants in accordance with laws 

governing each, namely, surface tension, fluid 

temperature, and known capillary tube diameter. "PostIaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-7." 

99 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-7." 

100 "PostIaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-7"; Kraft memo. During the MA-6 

ionization period an erroneous command signal 

had been received. Engineers believed that 

this was caused by a mixing of radio-frequency 

signals, which generated sufficient strength to 

energize one relay in the command system. 

This anomaly had been corrected by exchanging the low-frequency telemetry components 

for others operating on a higher frequency. 

("Weekly Activities Report," March 17, 1962; 

"Highlights, Activities Report, MSC," April 

30, 1962.) Ionization during MA-7 was 40 

seconds late, furnishing another clue to the 

overshoot. The behavior of the drogue and 

main chutes remained unexplained. Tests in 

early May 1962, at EI Centro, Calif., using 

the exact MA-7 weight had all been successful. 

2 7, 1962; "Project Mercury Quarterly Status 

Report No. 15." 

103 Johnson memo; New York Times, May 

26, 1962. Carpenter later learned that the 

Apache pilot's film was confiscated ~hen he 

returned to Puerto Rico. The pilot had violated the airway zones. 

104 "PostIaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-7"; Johnson memo; New York Times, 

May 26, 1962; Washington Sunday Star, May 

27, 1962. Sergeant Ray McClure, a veteran of 

137 jumps, had received the Air Medal for his 

part in the first successful recovery of a Discoverer capsule in the Pacific north of Hawaii. 

108 Johnson memo. 

106 Kraft memo. A rather complete discussion of the Carpenter recovery matter is 

contained in Senate Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 87 Cong., 2 sess. 

( 1962) , NASA Authorization for Fiscal Year 

1963 : Hearings, 495-504. Senator Spessard L. 

Holland (D. Fla.) and D. Brainerd Holmes of 

NASA, the latter having been present in the 

Mercury Control Center during the complete 

recovery, were the principals in this discussion. 

Holmes stated that he was with R/A John L. 

Chew and that it did not seem to make a par., 

ticle of difference to the admiral which service 

recovered the astronau t. The NASA official interpreted that Chew based his decision on past 

experiences; Holmes added that he could detect no feeling of interservice rivalry. 

107 "PostIaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-7"; Johnson memo; Washington Evening 

Star, May 26, 1962; Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 1962, 86. See also Rene 

Carpenter, "Scott Carpenter and His Son and 

His Wife Living Through the Time That 

Grew Too Long," Life, LII (June 1, 1962); 

and M. Scott Carpenter, "I Got Let in on the 

Great Secret," Life, LII (June 8, 1962). 

108 "PostIaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-7." 

109 New York Times, May 28, 1962; Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 1962, 89; 

Washington Post, May 30, 1962; Washington 

Evening Star, May 31, 1962. Carpenter, his 

family, and the Williams family paid a visit to 

the White House on June 5, 1962. Washington Post, June 5, 1962. 

110 Kraft memo; Johnson memo; "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for MA-7"; John 

597 
well before the next flight. Also, a switch was 

integrated in the spacecraft by which the pilot 

could switch off and switch un the high thrusters. If the pilot forgot to reactivate the thrusters, an automatic override ensured their availability just before retrofire. "Pr.oject Mercury Quarterly Status Report No. 15"; Results 

of the Second United States Manned Orbital 

Space Flight, 6 . 

lU Newport News Daily Press, June 6 and 8, 

1962; New York Times, June 14, 1962; Washington Post, June 28, 1962; Washington Evening Star, June 14, 1962. On the subject of 

pilot selection, the munth of June was another 

milestone in the manned space flight program. 

On June 1 the deadline closed for applications 

by astrona u t candidates for the second increment to be added to the Mercury seven for the 

Gemini and Apollo missions. Astronautical 

and Aeronautical Events of 1962, 93. 

Chapter XIV 

1 Memo, Richard E. Day, to Management 

Analysis Office, "Monthly Activity Report, 

Flight Crew Operations Division," July 30, 

1962 ; memo, Warren J. North [to Management 

Analysis Division], "Activity Report, Flight 

Crew Operations Division," Aug. 28, 1962; 

"Flight Plan for MA-8/16," NASA/MSC, 

Aug. 7, 1962; "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No. 8 (MA-8)," 

NASA/MSC, Oct. 23, 1962, Part I, "Mercury 

Scientific Experiment Panel: Abstract of the 

Proceedings at the MA-8 Meeting," MSC, 

July 19,1962. 

2 House Committee on Science and Astronautics, 88 Cong., 1 sess. (1963), Astronautical 

and Aeronautical Events of 1962 (Washington, 1963), 148, 153; "A Space Gap? And 

How!" Washington Daily News, Aug. 13, 1962; 

"Orbiting Reds Nearing Each Other, Western 

Ground Observers Report," Washington Post, 

Aug. 14, 1962; "Soviet Prestige in Space," 

Washington Evening Star, Aug. 19, 1962; Seymour Topping, "Russian Astronauts Only 3 

Miles Apart on Closest Paths," New York 

Times, Aug. 22, 1962. 

3 "Minutes of the Senior Staff Meeting," 

MSC, Aug. 24, 1962; memo, North [to Man598 

MSC, Aug. 29, 1962. 

, Kenneth S. Kleinknecht, interview, Hous

ton, May 3, 1965; "Mercury Seven-Orbit Mis

sion Capability," memorandum report, Mer

cury Project Office, March 5, 1962. 

5 "Mercury Seven-Orbit Mission Capabil

ity." 

6 "MA-8 Mission Rules-Preliminary," 

Aug. 3, 1962; Revision A, Aug. 20, 1962; Re

vision B, Sept. 24, 1962; "MA-8 Data Acquisi

tion Plan," Aug. 21, 1962; "MA-8 Technica

Information Summary" [Aug. 20, 1962]

"Flight Plan for MA--8/16, Revision A," Sept

10, 1962; "Mission Directive for Mercury

Atlas Mission No.8 (MA-8-Spacecraft 16)," 

NASA Project Mercury working paper No

228, Aug. 31, 1962; "Calculated Preflight Trajectory Data for Mercury-Atlas Mission 8 

(MA-8) (Spacecraft No. 16-Atlas 113-D)," 

NASA Project Mercury working paper No. 229

Sept. 7, 1962 ; "MA-8 Recovery Requirements," Aug. 15, 1962; "MA-8 Recovery Procedures," Aug. 30, 1962. 

7 Ms., George F. Killmer, Jr., et al., "Mercury Technical History-Preflight Operations," 

MSC Florida Operations, Dec. 30, 1963, Chart 

126; "Weekly Activities Report," Mercury 

Project Office, April 20, 1962; "Weekly Activities Report," Mercury Project Office, April 13

1962; "Project Mercury Quarterly Status Report No. 14 for the Period Ending April 30

1962," NASA/MSC, May 25, 1962; "Weekly 

Activity Report to the Office of the Director for 

Manned Space Flight," MSC, May 5, 1962

memo, G. Merritt Preston to Dir., MSC, 

"Monthly Activities Report No.6," April 26, 

1962. 

8 Memo, James P. Henry to Asst. Dir. for 

Research and Development, MSC, "Weekly 

Activity Report for the Life Systems Division," 

April 20, 1962; "Monthly Activities Report," 

Life Systems Div., April 30, 1962; memo, Richard S. Johnston to Asst. Dir. for Research and 

Development, MSC, "Weekly Activities Report," June 15, 1962; memo, Edward L. Hays 

to Asst. Dir. for Research and Development, 

"Weekly Activity Report," May 18, 1962; 

"Activities Report to the Office of the Director 

for Manned Space Flight," MSC, May 19, 

1962. 

9 "Activity Report to the Office of the Di­
Meeting," MSC, Aug. 3,1962. 

11 "Weekly Activities Report for the Director of Manned Space Flight," MSC, Aug. 11, 

1962; "Weekly Activities Report for the Director of Manned Space Flight," MSC, Sept. 1, 

1962; Kenneth ]. Vogel, interview, Houston, 

May 6, 1965; Fred T. Pearce, interview, Houston, Feb. 12, 1964. 

1.2 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

Mercury-Atlas No.7 (MA-7) ," NASA/MSC, 

June 15, 1962; "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No.8 (MA-8)." 

13 Ibid.; "Project Mercury Quarterly Status 

Report No. 15 for Period Ending July 31, 

1962," NASA/MSC. 

14 "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-8," Part I. 

15 "Minutes of the Senior Staff Meeting," 

MSC, July 13, 20, Aug. 3, 1962. 

16 Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 

1962,158; "Project Mercury Quarterly Status 

Report No. 16 for Period Ending October 31, 

1962," NASA/MSC; "Minutes of the Senior 

Staff Meeting," MSC, Aug. 31, 1962. 

17 "Activity Report," MSC Preflight Operations Div., July 27, 1962; James M. Grimwood, 

Project Mercury: A Chronology, NASA SP4001 (Washington, 1963),214; "Minutes of 

the Senior Staff Meeting," MSC, Aug. 17, 

1962; "Project Mercury Minutes of Meeting of 

Mercury Atlas Launch Operations Committee," 

NASA/MSC, Sept. 6, 1962; "Minutes of the 

Senior Staff Meeting," MSC, Sept. 28, 1962. 

]. F. Wambolt on July 26, 1962, prepared a 

"Missile 113-D History" that provides excellent details on the steps taken to man-rate 

a missile into a Mercury launch vehicle. 

18 Letter, Maj. Gen. Leighton I. Davis, Hq., 

Air Force Missile Test Center, to Secretary of 

Defense Robert S. McNamara, "Status of DOD 

Support of Project Mercury for July 1962," 

with enclosure, Aug. 13, 1962; memo, North 

to Management Analysis Div., "Weekly Activity 

Report, Flight Crew Operations Division," 

July 2, 1962. 

19 DOD Representative for Project Mercury Support Operations, Final Report to the 

Secretary of Defense on Department of Defense Support of Project Mercury: For the 

Period 1 July 1959 through 13 June 1963, approved by Leighton I. Davis, Maj. Gen., 

USAF, 11 Sept. 1963, 15, 28; "Status Report 

10, 1962; Department of Defense press kit for 

MA-8. 

20 Final Report to the Secretary of Defense, 

28; letter, Davis to McNamara, "Postlaunch 

Memorandum Report for MA-8." 

21 Text, "Address by President John F. 

Kennedy," Rice University Stadium, Sept. 12, 

1962. 

22 "Astronaut's Flight Report," in "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for MA-8," Part 

I, 7-49. 

23 Robert Young, "Squalls Give Schirra 

Orbit 50-50 Chance," Chicago Tribune, Oct. 

2, 1962; "Schirra Ready for Countdown," 

Washington Post, Oct. 3, 1962; NASA News 

Release, "MA-8 Advisory," 5 p.m., Oct. 2, 

1962. 

2~ "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

MA-8," Part I; Alvin B. Webb, United Press 

International, "Hangar S Pool Copy," Oct. 3, 

1962. Also see "High Dreams for a Man and 

His Son," Life, LII (June 8, 1962). 

25 The description and all quotations in the 

following account of the MA-8 flight are taken 

directly from the extensive "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No.8 (MA8): Part I, Mission Analysis; Part II, Data; 

Part III, Air-Ground Voice and Debriefing," 

MSC, Oct. 23, 1962. 

26 Results of the Third United States 

Manned Orbital Space Flight October 3, 1962, 

NASA SP-12 (Washington, 1962),49. The 

contents of the ditty bag included a camera, 

two film magazines, an exposure meter, a 

camera strap, a photometer, a dosimeter, food 

containers, and an emergency container for 

motion sickness. See also Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 172. 

27 "Flight Operations Debriefing of MA-8 

Mission [aboard the carrier Kearsarge]," MSC, 

transcribed Oct. 23, 1962. Like Glenn and 

Carpenter before him, Schirra said he definitely 

sensed deceleration at BECO. On the other 

hand, he did not sense the acceleration tailoff 

that they had reported when the sustainer 

engine died. Max-q proved to be considerably noisier than Schirra had been led to expect. During the launch phase he heard 

many audible clues telling him what was taking 

place. These he described onomatopoeically, 

speaking of the jettisoning tower as "a rocket 

zapping off," of the clamp ring's release of the 

599 
2& For the public dialogue, see "Postlaunch 

Memorandum Report for MA-8," Part III, 

Air-Ground Voice and Debriefing, 2-129, 

2-130. 

30 Cf. "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for 

Mercury-Atlas No. 8 (MA-8) ," Part I, 

7-1-49; Part III, pp. 3-1-18; and "Flight 

Operations Debriefing of MA-8 Mission,'~ 

1-38. See also Results of the Third United 

States Manned Orbital Flight; and messages 

filed by news pool aboard the Kearsarge, Oct. 

3, 1962. The fact that Schirra had landed 

so close to the carrier prompted the engineer 

who had calculated the retrofiring so precisely 

to quip that "the carrier must have been 4.5 

miles off course." 

31 Notes, John Barbour, Associated Press, 

"Mercury Control Center Postflight News 

Conference," Oct. 3, 1962. 

32 "Schirra Flying to Houston after 3-Hour 

Honolulu Visit," Washington Evening Star, 

Oct. 7, 1962; "MA-8 Press Conference, Houston, Texas," transcript, Oct. 7, 1962; New 

York Herald Tribune, Oct. 9, 1962. Also 

see John Dille, "At the End of a Great Flight 

Big Bull's-Eye," Life, LIII (Oct. 12, 1962) ~ and "Bull's Eye from a Front-Row Seat," Life, 

LIII (Oct. 26, 1962) ; and the special issue of 

Newsweek, LX (Oct. 8, 1962), "The Space 

Age," passim. 

33 James M. Grimwood, who came to work 

for STG/MSC in August 1962, remembers 

clearly this contrast in attitudes. 

34 Letter, A. H. Smith, McDonnell Aircraft 

Corp., to NASA Procurement and Supply 

Offico, "Mercury Capsule Contract NAS 5-59, 

Contract Change Proposal No. 340, EighteenOrbit Mark I Spacecraft," Sept. 29, 1961; 

"Project Development Plan for Research 

Development Utilizing the Mark II Manned 

Spacecraft," MSC, Langley Air Force Base, 

Va., Dec. 8, 1961; "Operational Plan for 18­

Orbit Manned Mission," STG, Oct. 5, 1961. 

30 On "newspeak," d. "Project Mercury 

Status Report No. 12 for Period Ending Jan. 

31, 1962," STG. On reorganization, see 

Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 152, 219; 

and NASA Sixth Semiannual Report to Congress, July 1 through December 21, 1961 

(Washington, 1962),137,139. On the state 

of the art of physiological research before 

Aspects of Weightlessness," MSC fact shee

No. 73, 1962. 

~G For 1961 feasibility studies, see "Mer

cury Spacecraft Advanced Versions" AD 61 

224B, control No. C-57978, McD;nnell Air~ craft Corp., 1961; NASA briefing charts, undated, A-28358, Ames Research Center, 1-31

For MODM evolution, see Robert T . Everline, Edward B. Hamblett, Jr., and William R

Humphrey, "Preliminary Mercury 18-0rbi

Spacecraft Information Document," MSC 

memorandum report, Jan. 11, 1962; Lewis R

Fisher, "Mercury 18-0rbit Information Document (Minimum Weight Spacecraft) ," MSC 

memo report, Jan. 19, 1962. For the basic 

specification for MODM, see Everline et al.

"Manned One-.Day Mission Mercury Spacecraft Specification Document," NASA Project 

Mercury working paper No. 223, April 23

1962. On concurrent progress with Gemini

see Astronautical and Aeronautical Events of 

1962,43,199. 

37 "Project Mercury Quarterly Status Report No. 16," 1; "Minutes of the Senior Staff 

Meeting," MSC, Nov. 9, 1962. MSC learned 

of NASA's formal approval of a 22-orbit flight 

five weeks later. "Minutes of the Senior Staff 

Meeting," MSC, Dec. 14, 1962. Orbit 21 

would duplicate orbit 6, but MSC decided on 

22 orbits to optimize the recovery location 

near Midway Island again and the margins for 

error in spacecraft systems and supplies. 

:l8 Letter, J. Y. Brown, McDonnell Aircraft 

Corp., to NASA/MSC Mercury Procurement 

Office, with enclosure, "Financial Status Summary, Mercury One-Day Mission Contract 

NAS 5-59," Oct. 11, 1962. The major mission-planning meeting for MA-9 was held at 

Patrick Air Force Base on Dec. 3 and 4, 1962. 

See Davis, "Minutes of Pre-Operational Conference for Project Mercury One-Day Mission 

(MA-9) ," Dec. 18, 1962. 

39 Mss. for Project Mercury Tech. Hist. 

Program, Robert B. Merrifield, "Organization," July 1963, Part I, B, 14; and Marvin F. 

Matthews, "Patents," Oct. 22, 1963, Part I, H. 

See also Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 178. 

Two of the "Mercury inventors" were no 

longer with MSC: Alan B. Kehlet had left 

government service to work on Apollo for 

North American Aviation, and Willard S. 

Blanchard had remained at Langley, saying 

600 
41 

in discovery or innovation, were compounded 

many times by the teamwork developmental 

approach in Mercury. Simplistic views of 

these matters were embodied in the Mercury 

capsule contract as well as in certain NASA 

presentations to Congress which tended to become policy. Some indication of the extent 

to which credit for innovations ought to be 

diffused may be gained from the letter, Glenn 

F. Bailey to J. M. Carson, Jr., "Contract NAS 

5-59 Inventions," Sept. 8, 1961. 

40 Jocelyn R. Gill, interview, Houston, Oct. 

11, 1965; letter, Gill to members of POISE, 

Jan. 7, 1963. For a critique of Mercury experimental planning, see letter, Edward P. 

Ney, Professor of Physics, University of Minnesota, to Gill, Aug. 27, 1962. 

"Minutes of the Senior Staff Meeting," 

MSC, Jan. 4,1963; "Mercury/Atlas (MA-9) 

Launch Information and Notebook," General 

Dynamics/Astronautics, San Diego, undated; 

C. L. Gandy, Jr., and I. B. Hanson, "Mercury-Atlas Launch Vehicle Development and 

Performance," in Mercury Project Summary 

Including Results of the Fourth Manned Orbital Flight May 15 and 16, 1963, SP-45 

(Washington, 1963), 102. 

t2 "Gordon Cooper Press Conference," 

transcript, MSC, Feb. 8, 1963, 1, 3, 11 ; Charles 

M. Vaughn, "Differences Between Spacecraft 

16 (MA-8) and Spacecraft 20 (MA-9) as of 

January 11, 1963," McDonnell Aircraft Corp. 

Cooper himself had been fully briefed on the 

MA-9 experiments only four days earlier. See 

memo, Vaughn to Mercury Project Office, 

"Minutes ... of the Mercury Experiments 

Briefing, MA-9/20," Feb. 13, 1963. 

43 "Manned One-Day Mission-Mission Directive for Mercury/Atlas Mission 9 (MA-9) 

(Spacecraft No. 20-Atlas 130-D) ," NASA 

Project Mercury working paper No. 232, Feb. 

12, 1963, rev. April 25, 1963; Boynton, Edison 

M. Fields, and Donald F. Hughes, "Spacecraft 

Systems Development and Performance," in 

Mercury Project Summary, 52. For daily 

diaries of the technical modifications to each 

MODM spacecraft at the Cape, see Wilbur 

Allaback's series of weekly reports to Vogel, of 

MSC Atlantic Missile Range Engineering Operations, Oct. 1962 to May 1963. For an interesting sidelight on the ECS instrumentation, 

see William H. Bush, Jr., "C02 Partial Pressure 

Gill interview. 

45 See "Consolidated Activity Report for the 

Director of Manned Space Flight," MSC, Feb. 

23, 1963; Grimwood, Mercury Chronology, 

158, 167, 180, 183; Ms., Karl F. Greil for Project Mercury Technical History Program, "History of Reaction Control System," July 1963, 

12-27; Joe W. Dodson, interview, Houston, 

March 2, 1965. See also Minutes, "Inflight 

Scientific Experiments Coordination Panel," 

Robert B. Voas, secretary, Dec. 17, 1962; Jan. 

29, Feb. 25, and March 26, 1963. 

40 "Proceedings of the Mercury-Atlas 

Booster Reliability Workshop," San Diego, July 

12, 1963, 1- 56; News release, "Important Mercury-Atlas Refinements," Aerospace Corp., 

May 6, 1963; "MODM Project Quarterly 

Status Report No. 18 for Period Ending April 

30, 1963," MSC. 

47 "Flight Plan for MA-9/20," March 4, 

1963, Rev. A, April 15, 1963; Rev. B, May 

10, 1963; "Preparation and Activities Plan 

for MA-9-Postlaunch Memorandum Report," 

April 1963; "Public Information Directive," 

NASA, May 1963; "MA-9 Experiments," 

SEDR 236, McDonnell Aircraft Corp., April 1, 

1963; Final Report to the Secretary of Defense, 

37, 70, 75. Cf. William K. Douglas, comments, Aug. 17, 1965. 

48 See Philip H. Abelson's editorials in Science, C:XXXIX (Feb. 1, 1963) and CXL 

(April 19, 1963). See also John W. Finney, 

"Astronauts' Camera to Provide TV View of 

Earth from Space," New York Times, April 2, 

1963; Howard Simons, "Webb Defends U.S. 

Men-on-Moon Plan," Washington Post, April 

21, 1963; Joseph Kraft, "Professors 'Boycott' 

of Space," Washington Evening Star, May 10, 

1963; Senate Committee on Aeronautical and 

Space Sciences, 88 Cong., 1 sess., Scientists' 

Testimony on Space Goals, June 10 and 11, 

1963, passim. 

49 "Atlas Repair May Delay Cooper's 22­

Orbit Flight," Washington Post, April 19, 

1963. A Navy physician and NASA official, 

Frank B. Voris, gave the usual preflight warning for the record: "We can't guarantee 100 

percent success, and eventually the odds will 

catch up with us." Quoted in Allen J. Morrison, "NASA Official Warns of Inevitable 

Space Tragedy," Salem (Oreg.) Statesman, 

April 25, 1963. 

601 
James A. McDivitt, guidance; Elliot M. See, 

Jr., electronics; Thomas P. Stafford, communications; Edward H. White II, flight controls; 

and John W. Young, environmental control. 

For more details on other allusions in this paragraph, see Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1963: 

Chronology on Science, Technology, and 

Policy, NASA SP-4004 (Washington, 1964), 

28,69, 184, 190, 192. 

• 51 Quoted in William Hines, "Cooper to be 

O-ut of Contact for Most of 22-0rbit Flight," 

Washington Sunday Star, May 12, 1963. "3­

Day Mercury Flight Considered by NASA," 

Washington Post, April 4, 1963. An historical 

novel based on the plot of what might have 

happened to MA-I0 was written by Martin 

Caidin, dedicated to Tom Heinsheimer, and 

published by E. P. Dutton and Co., Inc., in 

February 1964 under the title Marooned. 

Much authentic flavor of Mercury flight operations may be gleaned from this fictional drama. 

52 See "Astronaut Insured for $100,000," 

New York Herald Tribune, May 9, 1963; S. 

Oliver Goodman, "Aetna Writes First Astronaut PoliCies," Washington Post, May 9, 1963; 

"DeOrsey Has Son Write Astronauts' Insurance," Washington Evening Star, May 13, 

1963; "Cooper Prepares for 22-0rbit Trip," 

New York Times, May 10, 1963; Howard 

Simons, "Cooper Ready to Take Off; Weather 

Remains Problem," Washington Post, May 14, 

1963. Simons also published in the Post an 

excellent series of three articles analyzing the 

late debate over manned space flight: "Moon 

Madness? Scientists Divided on Apollo," May 

12; "Scientists Now on Sidelines Discontented 

with Project," May 13; "President Backs Lunar 

Race Opposed by Some Scientists," May 14, 

1963. 

M Richard Witkin, "Astronaut Flight is Set 

for Today," New York Times, May 15, 1963; 

Earl Ubell, "The Long and Tense Wait for 

Astronaut Cooper," New York Herald Tribune, 

May 15, 1963. 

64 Marvin Miles, "Cooper Well on Way 

to 22 Orbits," Los Angeles Times, May 16, 

1963; Simons, "Launching Definitely Scheduled: Cooper Set for Another Try," Washington Post, May 15, 1963; Hines, "Atlas Boosts 

Faith-7 Flight As Planned," Washington Evening Star, May 15, 1963. 

24, 1963. For color parallel to the voice 

transcript, the unedited Mercury Contro

transcript of John A. Powers' broadcast com

mentary, "MA-9 Transcript," May 15, 1963

has been followed. 

58 The text of the prayer (taped at time 

21 : 49 : 38) is as follows: 

"I would like to take this time to say a 

little prayer for all the people, including myself

involved in this launch and this operation

Father, thank You for the success we have had 

flying this flight. Thank You for the privilege 

of being able to be in this position, to be up 

in this wondrous place, seeing all these many 

s1:artling, wondrous things that You've created

Help guide and direct all of us, that we may 

shape our lives to be good, that we may be 

much better Christians, learn to help one an

other, to work with one another, rather than 

to fight. Help us to complete this mission 

successfully. Help us in our future space en

deavors, that we may show the world that a 

democracy really can compete, and still are 

able to du things in a big way, are able to 

do research, developmen t, and can conduc

various scientific, very technical programs in 

a completely peaceful environment. Be with 

all our families. Give them guidance and en

couragement, and let them know that every

thing will be okay. We ask in Thy name

Amen." 

57 See L. Gordon Cooper, Jr., "Everyone 

Was in a Sweat, I Was Secretly Pleased," Life

LIV (June 7, 1963); see also other contrac

articles: "His Mission Is the Longest U.S

Orbit," Life, LIV (May 17, 1963) ; "He Brings 

It Right in on the Old Gazoo," Life, LIV (May 

24, 1963); and "Gordo Gets a Great Hello 

from the Kids and Kin," Life, LIV (May 31

1963) . 

68 "Status Report on PostIaunch Evalua

tion of Mercury-Atlas Mission No.9," MSC

May 28, 1963. Quotations are from "MA-9 

Press Conference," transcript, May 19, 1963

7a, 10, lOb. 

59 "MA-9 Scientific Debriefing," transcript

June 26, 1963, 47. Cf. 15. On the skepticism 

regarding Cooper's vision, see Aviation Week, 

LXXIX (June 17, 1963),34; (July 1, 1963)

31; and (July 15, 1963), 98. For one of the 

more important comparative studies of the 

602 

ARPA TN-64-2, Feb. 1965. 

80 J. C. Jackson, "Manned Space Flight 

Network Performance Analysis for MA-9," 

Goddard Space Flight Center publication 

X-551-63-108, Greenbelt, Md., June 6, 1963, 

44. For other details on the results of the 

fourth manned orbital flight, see Mercury Project Summary, 231, 242, and passim. 

61 Webb, interview, Washington, Sept. 3, 

1965; Seamans, interview, Washington, Sept. 

1, 1965; Senate Committee on Aeronautical 

and Space Sciences, 88 Cong., 1 sess. (1963), 

NASA A uthorization for Fiscal Year 1964, 

Hearings, Part 2, 772. See also Scientists' 

Testimony on Space Goals; and "Mercury 

Flights Off, Gemini Comes Next: Astronauts 

Overruled by NASA," Houston Chronicle, 

June 12, 1963. 

Epilogue 

1 McDonnell Aircraft Corp., NASA 

Project Gemini .Familiarization Manual (preliminary), SEDR 300, June 1, 1962, passim. 

See also Ralph O. Shankle, The Twins of 

Space (Philadelphia, 1964); and Charles W. 

Mathews, '"Project Gemini-Status and 

Plans," paper, 25th annual Aerospace Writers' 

Assn. Convention, Dallas, Tex., May 24, 1963. 

2 E.g., North American Aviation, Inc., The 

Apollo Spacecraft, Space and Information 

Systems Division, May 15, 1964 ; NASA Project 

Apollo working paper No. 1015, Project 

Apollo: Space Task Group Study Report, 

February 15, 1961, edited by H. Kurt Strass; 

NASA MSC fact sheet No. 292, "Apollo Program," June 1965; Walter Sullivan, ed., 

America's Race for the Moon: The New York 

Times Story of Project Apollo (New York, 

1962) . 

3 Robert C. Seamans, Jr., Hugh L. Dryden, 

and James E. Webb, interviews, Washington, 

D.C., Aug. 31, Sept. 3, 1965. 

'See Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1963: 

Chronology on Science, Technology, and 

Policy, NASA S'P-4004 (Washington, 1964), 

241,244,376,417,505,506; and Astronautics and Aeronautics, 1964: Chronology on 

Science, Technology, and Policy, NASA SP4005 (Wash.ington, 1965), 209, 248. 

5 Ibid., 348, 458; Oscar Theodore Barck, 

Jr., and Nelson Manfred Blake, Since 1900: 

A History of the United States in Our Times 

Results of the Fourth Manned Orbital Flight

May 15 and 16, 1963, NASA SP-45 (Washington, 1963). 

7 Ibid., 247-249, part of the paper by J. C

Moser, G. M.Preston, J. J. Williams, and 

A. E. Morse, Jr. 

8 Ibid., 248. For a similar discussion o

quality control for the launch vehicle, see 

"Manufacturing and Process Controls" in 

Proceedings of the Mercury-Atlas Booster 

Reliability Workshops, General Dynamics

Astronau tics, San Diego, July 12, 1963, 1-56

9 See House Committee on Science and 

Astronau tics, 88 Cong., 1 sess. (1963), Brief

ing on NASA Reorganization: Project Mercury Summary, 18-36. See also John W

Finney, "Contractors Cited for an Average of 

10 Failures on Each Space Trip," New York 

Times, Oct. 4, 1963; and Edwin Diamond

The Rise and Fall of the Space Age (Garden 

City, N.Y., 1964),32-46. 

10 Warren Burkett, "NASA Brass Pays 

Tribute to Industry," Houston Chronicle, Oct

4, 1963; and New York Times, Washington 

Post, and Washington Evening Star, Oct. 5

1963. 

11 See William M. Bland, Jr., and Lewis 

R. Fisher, "Project Mercury Experience," 

paper, Aerospace Writers' Assn., Dallas, May 

24, 1963; Walter C. Williams, "The Mercury 

Textbook," paper, American Institute of 

Aeronautics and Astronautics, Los Angeles, 

June 17, 1963, MSC fact sheet No. 197

Christopher C. Kraft, Jr., "A Review of 

Knowledge Acquired from the First Manned 

Satellite Program," MSC fact sheet No. 206; 

and Wesley L. Hjornevik, "NASA Programs 

and Their Management," paper, Harvard 

Business School Club of Houston, Jan. 28

1964, MSC fact sheet No. 235. 

12 See Mercury Project Summary, 24-26; 

d. MSC, "Briefing Materials," prepared for 

Dr. Robert C. Seamans and Dr. George E. 

Mueller, Sept. 20-21, 1963 (2 vols., conf.). 

13 Ibid., See also Senate Committee on 

Aeronautical and Space Sciences, 87 Cong., 2 

sess. (1962), Staff Report, Manned Space 

Flight Program of the National Aeronautics 

and Space Administration: Project Mercury, 

Gemini, and Apollo, 7. 

H "Briefing Materials"; Bland and Fisher

and Hjornevik papers. 

603 
The Atlantic, CCXII (August 1963); Lewis 

Mumford, "Authoritarian and Democratic 

Technics," Technology and Culture, V (Winter 1964), 1-8; Melvin Kranzberg, "The 

Inner Challenge of Outer Space," paper, 

University of Houston Lecture-Artist Series, 

March 3, 1965. 

17 See Alvin M . Weinberg, quoted in James 

"Why I Am Not Going to the Moon," Saturday Review, XLVIII (Nov. 20,1965),29-31; 

and Philip H. Abelson, Saturday Review, 

idem. 

19 Hugh L. Dryden, "The Nation's Manned 

Space Flight," address, Governor's Conference 

on Oceanography and Astronautics, Kauai, 

Hawaii, Oct. 1, 1965, 3-4. 

604 

Note on Sources 
 

and 
 

Selected Bibliography 
 

TATE IN 1962 AND EARLY IN 1963, while Project Mercury was phasing into 

L the Manned One-Day Mission and evolving also toward Projects Gemini and 

Apollo, the managers of Mercury conceived the need for a monumental technical history to preserve the engineering "experience gained through the development of the Mercury spacecraft, its systems and components." The Director of 

the Manned Spacecraft Center, Robert R. Gilruth, expressed the hope that an 

elaborate, topically organized record in 10 or 12 volumes might "provide a ready 

reference and guide for present and future MSC space programs and to that end 

[should] increase the economy and effectiveness of MSC operations." Established 

in February 1963 as the Project Mercury Technical History Program (PMTHP), 

this effort produced about 40 retrospective manuscripts prepared by participants 

in Project Mercury. Although more than 130 authors were assigned sections to 

prepare and only one third of these ever completed their first drafts before reassignment, these manuscripts, located in the archives of the MSC Historian, furnished much of the basis for this technological history of Mercury. 

Concurrently in 1963, Eugene M. Emme, the NASA Historian, was prompting 

the preservation and collection of documentary materials and encouraging all 

NASA centers and especially the Mercury Project Office of MSC to proceed with 

the writing of the historical accounts of the technological, managerial, and administrative development of NASA's major programs. Documentary archives 

for manned space flight, therefore, began first in Washington and then in Houston 

while Mercury was still alive. The papers and correspondence of Robert R. 

Gilruth, George M. Low, Paul E. Purser, John A. Powers, and the astronauts' 

files constitute the bulk of the material presently contained in these two essentially 

duplicated archives, but innumerable smaller collections on specific technical and 

operational matters complement and amplify their usefulness. 

In May 1963 a contract was arranged between the Manned Spacecraft Center and the University of Houston to provide for professional help to assimilate 

and synthesize the massive documentary remains from Mercury in several forms 

suitable for wide distribution as historical literature. The two academic authors 

of this volume began full-time work immediately after the termination of Mercury, 

605 
and 16) 1963) NASA SP-45 (Washington, 1963). These two works are basic reference tools; they are essential to, but not representative of, historical handicraft. 

The authors studied Congressional documents; periodicals; secondary literature on space science, technology, and public policy; unclassified governmental, 

industrial, and military reports; and the artifacts, including audio tapes and 

photographic records of the program. To orient themselves, they watched sequentially a major portion of more than one million feet of motion picture film, 

which preserved virtually every significant event and flight operation in Project 

Mercury. 

To maintain some historiographical balance, they sought to subject the widest 

variety of documents to external (or contextual) and internal scrutiny. Competitive industrial and governmental claims to priorities were weighed. Wherever 

possible the people who made up the Mercury team were interviewed and each 

location of Mercury activities visited. Finally the authors concluded that research 

could proceed most profitably by writing. Concurrent writing and research went 

on for more than a year, before a "comm.ent edition" was distributed to some 

200 critical readers, most of whom found time to offer indispensable suggestions 

for its improvement. 

Footnote readers will have noticed the somewhat different documentary 

bases of the three parts of this work. Part One rests largely on open (but little 

used for historical purposes) channels of scientific communication. Part Two 

is hewn out of a jungle of unpublished technical letters, messages, memoranda, 

telecon notes, informal reports, and working papers. Part Three is based progressively more on official project documentation, which had improved considerably by that reiatively late date. 

Unless otherwise specified, all these materials, in original or facsimile form, 

have been gathered together in the MSC archives. Very few items among those 

cited in the footnotes are still classified; the vast majority are no longer sensitive 

and may be examined by students of the early history of manned space flight. 

More than 200 personal interviews, 134 Project Mercury working papers, and 

most of the 4500 typical control and report documents listed in Appendix A of the 

Mercury Project Summary ha~e served as the foundation for this history. The 

superstructure, however, is selective, as the bibliographical listing also must be. 

There are many other true tales that need to be placed in survivable form about 

the technology, administration, public relations, and human side of Project Mercury and the men who worked its wonders. But we authors hope that This New 

Ocean will map the temporal shoreline from which the United States of America 

cast off on its voyage into space. 

606 
1. Aldrich, Arnold D. 39. Coler, Charles 

2. Algranti, Joseph S. 40. Coston, Charles L. 

3. Allaback, Wilbur 41. Critzos, O. Constance 

4. Allen, H. Julian 42. Day, Richard E. 

5. Armstrong, Stephen A. 43. Dembling, Paul C. 

6. Atcheson, Kenneth L. 44. DeVore, Phoncille 

7. Bailey, F. John, Jr. 45. Dietlein, Lawrence F. 

8. Bailey, Glenn F. 46. Disher, John H. 

9. Battey, Robert V. 47. Dodson, Joe W. 

10. Berry, Charles A. 48. Donegan, James j., Jr. 

11. Billingham, John 49. Donlan, Charles J. 

12. Bingman, Charles F. 50. Dryden, Hugh L. 

13. Blanchard, Willard S., Jr. 51. Dubusker, William 

14. Bland, William M., Jr. 52. Dunham, Richard M. 

15. Bond, Aleck C. 53. Eppley, Charles V. 

16. Bost, James E. 54. Erb, R. Bryan 

17. Bothmer, Clyde B. 55. Ertel, Ivan 

18. Boyer, William J. 56. Everline, Robert T. 

19. Boynton, John H. 57. F aget, Maxime A. 

20. Briggs, Thomas 58. Fields, Edison M. 

21. Brown, B. Porter 59. Fineg, Jerry 

22. Burke, Walter F. 60. Fisher, Lewis R. 

23. Butler, Earl 61. Flesh, E. M. 

24. Byrnes, Martin A., Jr. 62. Foster, Norman G. 

25. Callanan, R. J. 63. Freitag, Robert 

26. Campagna, 1. Edward 64. French, John C. 

27. Canning, Thomas N. 65. Frutkin, Arnold W. 

28. Canter, Louis 66. Garland, Benjamine j. 

29. Carley, Richard R. 67. Gates, Sally D. 

30. Carpenter, M. Scott 68. Gibbons, Howard 1. 

31. Catterson, A. Duane 69. Gill, Jocelyn R. 

32. Chamberlin, James A. 70. Gillespie, Ben M. 

33. Chambers, Thomas V. 71. Gilruth, Robert R. 

34. Chauvin, Leo T. 72. Glenn, John H., Jr. 

35. Chilton, Robert G. 73. Glennan, T. Keith 

36. Chop, Albert M. 74. Goldenbaum, David M. 

37. Clements, Henry E. 75. Golovin, Nicholas E. 

38. Colchagoff, George 76. Graves, G. Barry 

* All are cited in text or footnotes. 

607 
81. Hammack, Jerome B. 

82. Haney, Paul P. 

83. Harris, Gordon 

84. Havenstein, Paul L. 

85. Heberlig, Jack C. 

86. Hicks, Claiborne R., Jr. 

87. Hjornevik, Wesley L. 

88. Hodge, John D. 

89. Hoffman, Sherwood 

90. Hohmann, Bernard A. 

91. Holmes, Jay 

92. Hopko, Russell N. 

93. Horsman, Paul F. 

94. Hughes, Donald F. 

95. H uss, Carl R. 

96. Jackson, Bruce G. 

97. Johnson, Caldwell C. 

98 . Johnson, Harold I. 

99. Johnson, W. Kemble 

100. Jones, Edward R. 

101. Keehn, R. W. 

102. Kehlet, Alan B. 

103. Killmer, George F., Jr. 

104. Kleinknecht, Kenneth S. 

105. Knauf, George M. 

106. Koons, Wayne E. 

107. Kraft, Christopher C., Jr. 

108. Kuettner, Joachim P. 

109. Kyle, Howard C. 

110. Lauten, William T., Jr. 

111. Lee, John B. 

112. Lein, Paul 

113 . . Letsch, Ernst R. 

114. Lewis, James L. 

115. Link, Mae M. 

116. Lord, Douglas R. 

117. Low, George M. 

118. Lowe, Nancy 

119. MacDougall, George F., Jr. 

608 

124. Mattson, Axel T. 

125. Mayer, John P. 

126. Maynard, Owen E. 

127. McBarron, James W., II 

128. McKann, Robert E. 

129. McLeaish, John E. 

130. McMillion, Lee W. 

131. Mercer, Robert D. 

132. Meson, John K. 

133. Meyer, Andre J., Jr. 

134. Miller, Robert R. 

135. Minners, Howard A. 

136. Morgan, Frank 

137. Moseley, W. C., Jr. 

138. Muhley, William C. 

139. Nagy, Alex P. 

140. Niven, John 

141. North, Warren J. 

142. Oakley, R. B. 

143. alling, Edward H. 

144. auld, J. Wallace 

145. Patterson, Herbert G. 

146. Pearce, Fred T. 

147. Pearson, Albin O. 

148. Pepping, Raymond A. 

149. Perkins, Kendall 

150. Pesman, Gerard J. 

151. Peterson, John J. 

152. Petynia, William W. 

153. Piland, Joseph V. 

154. Piland, Robert O. 

155. Plohr, H. 'Varren 

156. Powers, John A. 

157. Preston, G. Merritt 

158. Purser, Paul E. 

159. Putnam, William 

160. Rashis, Bernard 

161. Reitter, L. M. 

162. Rhode, Richard V. 
166. Rose, Rodney G. 

167. Rosholt, Robert 

168. Samonski, Frank H., Jr. 

169. Sandahl, Carl A. 

1 70. Sanderson, Alan H. 

171. Seamans, Robert C., Jr. 

172. Seat, Robert L. 

1 73. Seiff, Alvin 

174. Shankle, Ralph O. 

175. Sheldon, Charles S., II 

176. Shepard, Alan B., Jr. 

177. Shortal, Joseph 

178. Siesal, Henry S. 

179. Silverstein, Abe 

180. Simons, David G. 

181. Simpkinson, Scott H. 

182. Sjoberg, Sigurd A. 

183. Skinner, FrancisJ. 

184. Slayton, Donald K. 

185. Soule, Hartley A. 

186. Stapp, John P. 

187. Stonesifer, John C. 

188. Stoney, William E. 

192. Syverston, C. A. 

193. Taylor, Maggie S. 

194. Thompson, Robert F. 

195. Transue, J. R. 

196. Tsitsera, Voula 

197. Useller, James W. 

198. Vale, Robert E. 

199. Van Boekel, John J. 

200. Voas, Robert B. 

201. Vogel, Kenneth 

202. Wagenknecht, Kurt P. 

203. Webb, Dalton 

204. Webb, JamesE. 

205. Welsh, Edward C. 

206. Wendzel, Frank 

207. White, D. R. 

208. Williams, Walter C. 

209. Witunski, Michael 

210. Wood, Clotaire 

211. Woodling, C. H. 

212. Wyatt, DeMarquis D. 

213. Yardley, John F. 

214. Zoller, Charles E. 

Selected Bibliography 

BASIC REPORTS ON PRO]ECT MERCURY 

Air Force Space Systems Division TDR-63-38I , Sally Anderson, ed., Final Report: Mercury/ 

Atlas Launch Vehicle Program (Inglewood, Calif., Nov. 1963) 

Air Force Space Systems Division, General Dynamics/Astronautics, and NASA, Proceedings 

oj the Mercury-Atlas Booster Reliability Workshop (San Diego, Calif., July 12, 1963) 

American Rocket Society, Space Flight Report to the Nation, "The Mercury-Redstone Program," 

paper by Jerome B. Hammack and Jack C. Heberlig (New York, Oct. 9-15, 1961) 

Department of Defense Project Mercury Support Operations, Final Report If) the Secretary oj 

Defense on Department oj Defense Support oj Project Mercury: For the Period 1 July 1959 through 

13 June 1963, Sept. 11, 1963 

Fairchild Publications, Inc., Manned Spacecrajt: Engineering, Design, and Operation, Paul E. 

Purser, Maxime A. Faget, and Norman F. Smith, eds. (New York, 1964) 

609 

and John D. Mosely, eds., NASA SP-39 (Washington, 1963) 

NASA, Space Medicine in Project Mercury, by Mae Mills Link, NASA SP-4003 (Washington, 

1965) 

NASA, Ninth Semiannual Report to Congress, January 1-June 30, 1963, "Project Mercury in 

Review" (Washington, 1964) 

NASA, Mercury Project Summary, Including Results oj the Fourth Manned Orbital Flight May 15-16, 

1963, NASA SP-45 (Washington, 1963) 

*NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas 

No.5 (MA-5)," 1961 

*NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas 

No.6: Part I, Mission Analysis," 1962 

*NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas 

No.7 (MA-7), Part I, Mission Analysis," 1962 

*NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas 

No.8: Part I, Mission Analysis," 1962 

*NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for MA-8: Part III, 

Air-Ground Voice and Debriefing," 1962 

*NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas 

No.9 (MA-9): Part I, Mission Analysis," 1963 

*NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas 

No.9 (MA-9): Part II, Data," 1963 

*NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas 

No.9 (MA-9): Part III, Mission Transcripts," 1963 

*NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, "Manned One-Day Mission Quarterly Status Report," 

numbered 17 and 18, 1962-1963 

NASA Marshall Space Flight Center, Final Report, Mercury-Redstone Project-Launch Operations 

by Emil P. Bertram and Richard E. Dutton, MSFC-LOD-62-5 (Cape Canaveral, Fla., 

May 28, 1962) 

NASA Marshall Space Flight Center, Saturn-Apollo Systems Office, The Mercury-Redstonp. 

Project, R. I. Johnson, et aI., eds., TMX-53107 (Huntsville, Ala., June 1964) 

*NASA Space Task Group/Manned Spacecraft Center, "Project Mercury Quarterly Status 

Reports," Nos. 1 through 16, 1959-1962 

*NASA Space Task Group, "Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Redstone No.4 

(MR-4)," 1961 

NASA PROJECT MERCURY WORKING PAPERS 

WORKING 

PAPER NO. 

100 Lunney, Glynn S., "A Study of the Control of Landing Areas for Post Staging Abort 

Trajectories," August 3, 1959. 

101 "Test No. HS-24 [Big Joe] General Information for Recovery Forces," August 14, 1959. 

* Flight and status reports not listed as Project Mercury working papers. 

610 
103 Hicks, Claiborne R., Jr., and Skopinski, Ted H., "Pre-Stage Abort Studies from the 

Nominal 105 Nautical Mile Orbital Insertion Trajectory," September 15, 1959. . 

104 	 Behuncik, John A., Ferrando, James A., Jr., and Skopinski, T. H., "Preliminary Standard 

II-g Type Trajectory-Data for the Early Flights of Mercury-Redstone," September 25, 

1959. 

105 Graham, John B., Jr., "Recovery Operations for Little Joe Test Number I-B," February 10, 1960. 

106 "Three Degree of Freedom Dynamic Trajectories for 80° and 90° Launch-Pad Abort 

Conditions with Various Wind Conditions," September 30, 1959. 

107 "Preliminary Flight Test Results of the 'Big Joe' Mercury Rand D Capsule," October 

12, 1959. 

108 Hall, John B., Jr., "Qu:liification Tests on the Big Joe Recovery System," October 27, 

1959. 

109 Strass, H. Kurt, and Robert, Frank C., "Proposal for a Recoverable Radiation Experiment," November 5, 1959. 

110 "Project Mercury Test # HS-24 (XSM-65-10D), Summary of Calculated Preflight 

Trajectory and Radar Analysis Data," August 31, 1959. 

III Ferrando, J. A., Behuncik, J. A., and Skopinski, T H., "Mercury-Redstone Separation 

Distance for Preliminary Il- g Type Trajectory," November 6, 1959. 

112 Petynia, William W., and Hasson, Dennis F., "Pretest Report for Off-The-Pad Escape 

System Qualification Test," March I, 1960. 

113 Hasson, D. F., "Preliminary Study Using Inflatible Spheres for Aerodynamic Stabilization of the Mercury Capsule During Reentry," November 18, 1959. 

114 Moseley, William C., Jr., "Summary of the Longitudinal Stability Characteristics of 

the Little Joe Configurations M==O.05 to M=6.83," December I, 1959. 

115 	 Windler, Milton L., "Results of Recovery Beacon Test Number 3," December 11, 1959. 

116 Skopinski, T H., Behuncik, J. A., and Ferrando, J. A., Jr., "Mercury-Redstone Abort 

Study for Preliminary Il-g Type Trajectory," December 15, 1959. 

117 Kapryan, Walter J., and Sjoberg, Sigurd A., "Mission Directive for Mercury-Redstone 

No.1 [MR- I]," December 15, 1959, Rev. May 20, 1960. 

118 Fisher, Lewis R., and Arabian, Donald D., "General Systems Information Document," 

March 10, 1960. 

119 Kyle, Howard C., "Mercury Radio and Command Control System," December 21, 

1959. 

120 Ferrando, J. A., Behuncik, J. A., and Skopinski, T H., "Mercury-Redstone Capsule 

Dispersion Study for Preliminary Il-g Type Trajectory," December 30, 1959. 

121 Fisher, L. R., and Chauvin, Leo T, "Mission Document for Little Joe No.5 (Capsule 

No.3)," May 25, 1960. 

122 Graham, J. B., Jr., "Recovery Operations for Little Joe Test No. Two," January 18, 

1960. 

123 Berger, J., "Preliminary Evaluation of Surface Winds at Cape Canaveral," February 19, 

1960. [Not released] 

124 	 Moseley, W. C., Jr., "Static Longitudinal Stability Characteristics of the Mercury 

Capsule Configurations M =0.05 to 20 (Basic Configuration)," March 18, 1960. 

125 	 Windler, M. L., "Results of the Project Mercury HF Recovery Beacon Test No.1," 

March 23, 1960. 

611 
Mercury Flight Computing Requirements," April 6, 1960. [Superseded by workin

paper 146] 

129 Cheatham, Donald C., and Tynan, Charles I., Jr., "General Information for Launc

Site Recovery Forces," March 29, 1960. 

130 	 Smith, Robert P., "Static Longitudinal Stability Characteristics of the Mercury Capsul

in Combination with the Mercury-Atlas and Mercury-Redstone Boosters M=0.60 t

M=3.00," March 28, 1960. 

131 Erb, R. Bryan, "Preliminary Study of Heating Aspects of a Radiation Foil Modificatio

to Extend Mercury Heat-Shield Capability to a Natural Decay Entry," April 8, 1960

132 Arabian, D. D., and Sjoberg, S. A., "Mercury-Atlas (MA-I) Mission Directive (Capsul

No.4)," April 11, 1960. 

133 	 Rose, James T., and Rose, Rodney G., "Research and Development Flight Test Program 

Using the Little Joe Booster-Booster Qualification Flight Test (Little Joe No.6),

April 22, 1960. 

134 	 Enderson, Laurence W., Jr., and Rose, R. G., "Research and Development Fligh

Test Program Using the Little Joe Booster-Abort at High Dynamic Pressure (Littl

Joe No. IA)," July 25, 1960. 

135 	 Rose, J. T., and Rose, R. G., "A Method of Estimating Launch Setting to Correct fo

the Effects of Wind on the Trajectory of a Little Joe Type Vehicle," April 29, 1960

[See TM-X-492] 

136 Brumberg, Paul G., "Special Trajectory Parameters for NASA Mercury Missions,

April 22, 1960. 

137 Jackson, Bruce G., and Williams, Walter E., "Aerodynamic Results of the Little Jo

I-A Flight," May 16, 1960. 

138 Kapryan, W. J., and Sjoberg, S. A., "Mission Directive for Mercury-Redstone Missio

No.2 (Capsule No.5)," April 16, 1960 

139 	 Jones, Enoch M., "General Discussion of Contingency Recovery," May 17, 1960. 

140 Arabian, D. D., Fisher, L. R., Sjoberg, S. A., and Hodge, John D., "Mercury-Atla

(MA-2) Mission Directive (Capsule No.6)," May 27, 1960. [Supplementary to workin

paper 118] 

141 Ferrando, J. A., Jr., and Skopinski, T. H., "Dispersion Study of Separation Distanc

after Apogee for Mercury-Redstone Preliminary II-g Type Trajectory," June 8, 1960

142 Graham, J. B., Jr., and Hodge, B. Leon, "Test No. MA-I: General Information fo

Recovery Force," July 8, 1960. 

143 Hicks, C. R., Jr., and Hunt, Shirley A., "Information for use in Landing Area Predictio

for Mercury-Atlas Mission MA-l (50-D)," July 13, 1960. 

144 Huss, C. R., Allen, Charlie, and Hicks, C. R., Jr., "Summary of Calculated Pre-Fligh

Trajectory Data for MA-I (Capsule No.4, Atlas No. 50-D)," July 25, 1960. 

145 Hall, J. B., Jr., "Qualification Tests on the MA-I Terminal System," July 26, 1960

146 	 Dunseith, L. C., Lunney, G. S., and Dalby, James F., "Methods and Pertinent Data fo

Project Mercury Flight Computing Requirements," July 22, 1960. [Supersedes working 

paper 128, and was superseded by working paper 191] 

147 	 Lewis, John H., Jr., and Mayo, Alfred P., "A Qualitative Description of the Mercury

Atlas Guidance Equations," October 24, 1960. 

148 	 Morse, Archibald E., Jr., and Kranz, Eugene F., "Mission Directive for Mercury

Redstone Mission No.3 (Capsule No.7)," September 6, 1960, Rev. March 20, 1961

612 
ISO 	 Weston, Kenneth C., and Swanson, Joanna E., A Summary of Wind-Tunnel HeatTransfer Measurements on the Mterbody of the Project Mercury Capsule Reentry 

Configuration," August 17, 1960. [See TM-X-495, August 1961, for this report] 

lSI 	 Wheelwright, Charles D., "Animal Ground Support Facilities," August 17, 1960. 

152 	 Patterson, Herbert G., Ewart, David D., and Hamby, William H., "Determination of 

Mercury Escape Rocket Thrust Eccentricity from Probability Studies of Miss Distance 

and Lateral Loads During Pre-Staging Abort from Mercury-Atlas Booster," August 19, 

1960. 

153 Dodson, Joe W., and Kincaide, William C., "Cleveland Window Abrasion Test," 

August 18, 1960. 

154 Maynard, Owen E., "Reconstruction Investigation of Recovered Components from 

Mercury-Atlas No.1 Mter Mission Failure," August 31, 1960. 

155 Windler, M. L., "Evaluation of an S-Band Tracking Beacon as a Recovery Location 

Aid, Test No. I," September 26, 1960. 

156 	 Skopinski, T. H., Behuncik, J. A., and Ferrando, J. A., Jr., "Calculated Pre-Flight 

Trajectory Data for Mercury-Redstone Mission No. I (MR-I) (Capsule No.2)," October 10, 1960. 

157 	 Tynan, C. I., Jr., "Test No. MR-l, General Information for Recovery Forces," October 

11,1960. 

158 	 Henry, J. P., "Status of the Animal Test Program," October 20, 1960. 

159 	 Fields, Edison M., and Bond, Aleck C., "Flight Test Report for Mercury-Atlas Mission 

No.1 (Capsule No.4)," November 4, 1960. 

160 	 Huss, C. R., Hartung, Jack B., Hicks, C. R., Jr., and Allen, C. C., "Summary of Several 

Short Studies Pertaining to the Retro-Rocket System Capability for the Mercury Mission," November 9, 1960. 

161 	 Johnston, Richard S., "Medical Operation Plan," November 4, 1960. 

162 Morris, D. P., Jr., "Medical Recovery Operations," October 10, 1960. 

163 Hicks, C. R., Jr., O'Loughlin, John C., Allen, C. C., and Huss, C. R., "Summary of 

Caltulated Pre-Flight Trajectory Data for Mercury-Atlas Mission No. 2 (MA-2) 

(Capsule No.6, Atlas No. 67-D)," December 7, 1960. 

164 	 Laughlin, C. Patrick, "Bio-Science Data Plan," December 1, 1960. 

165 	 Morris, D. P., Jr., "Medical Recovery Operations (Animal Flights)," October 10, 1960. 

166 Chauvin, L. T., and Fisher, L. R., "Flight Test Report for Little Joe Mission No.5," 

December 23, 1960. 

167 Skopinski, T. H., Maynard, John W., Jr., and Osgood, C. T., "Wind Influence Coefficients for the Mercury-Redstone Missions," January 6, 1961. 

168 	 Skopinski, T. H., Maynard, J. W.,Jr., Behuncik, J. A., and Ferrando, J. A., "Calculated 

Preflight Trajectory Data for Mercury-Redstone Mission No.2 (MR-2, Capsule No. 

5)," January 19, 1961. 

169 	 Kolenkiewicz, Ronald, and Rose, R. G., "Research and Development Flight Test 

Program Using the Little Joe Booster-High Altitude Abort (Little Joe No.2)," April 10, 

1961. 

170 	 [Enderson, L. W., and Kapryan, W. J., "Post Launch Report for Mercury-Redstone 

No. lA (MR-IA)," ca. January 1961; never published] 

171 	 Jackson, C. B., Dr., "Medical Evaluation Program," January 26, 1961. 

172 	 Hermann, Robert A., "Mission Directive for Simulated Orbital Flight Test Program 

(Capsule No. 10)," February 15, 1961. 

613 
174 	 Jackson, C. B., McMillion, L. N., and Johnston, R. S., "Astronaut Preparation and 

Activities Manual for Mercury-Redstone No.3," February 6, 1961. 

175 	 Mayo, A. P., and Lewis, J. H., Jr., "Mathematical Procedures for Determination o

Capsule Range, Azimuth, Elevation, and Radar Look Angles for Pad-Centered and 

Earth-Centered Inertial Coordinate System," February 15, 1961. 

176 	 Skopinski, T H., Behuncik, J. A., and Leatherman, P. S., "Preliminary Probability 

Study of Mercury-Atlas Post-Stage Separation Velocity and Separation Distance After 

Retrofiring," March 3, 1961. 

177 Fisher, L. R., and Chauvin, L. T, "Mission Directive for Little Joe No. SA (Capsule 

No. 14)," March 7, 1961. 

178 Maynard, J. W., Skopinski, T H., and Leatherman, P. S., "Calculated Pre-fligh

Trajectory Data for Redstone Booster Test (MR-BD)," March 17, 1961. 

179 Kuehnel, H. A., "Outline for the Astronaut Acceleration Training Program IV," 

February 24, 1961. 

180 	 Karakulko, Witalij, "Effects of Propellant and Hardware Temperature on the Starting 

Response Time of H 20 2 Reaction Control Thrust Chambers of the Mercury Capsule," 

March 9, 1961. 

181 Llewellyn, John S., Jr., "Heating Characteristics for Three Mercury Exit Models," 

March 20, 1961. 

182 Samonski, F. H., Jr., and Bush, W. H., Jr., "Environmental Control System Test and 

Astronaut Training Program," March 3, 1961 . 

183 Chauvin, L. T., and Fisher, L. R., "Mission Directive for Little Joe No. 5B (Capsule 

No. 14)," April 7, 1961. 

184 "Summary of Calculated Preflight Trajectory Data for Mercury-Atlas Mission No.3 

(MA-3) (Capsule No.8, Atlas No. 100-D)," April 14, 1961. 

185 "Calculated Preflight Trajectory Data for Mercury-Redstone Mission No.3 (MR-3

Capsule No.7)," April 20, 1961. 

186 Ewart, D . D., and Brown, S. W., "Summary of Dynamic Stability Data for the Mercury 

Capsule and Escape System," March 22, 1961. 

187 "Life Systems Aspects of Third Mercury-Aviation Medical Acceleration Laboratory 

Centrifuge Program," April 20, 1961. 

188 Thompson, W. E., and Pesman, G. j., "Preliminary Appraisal of the Project Mercury 

Acceleration Hazard," May 15, 1961. 

189 	 Kuehnel, H . A., and Glover, Kenneth E., "Program Description and Discussion for the 

Astronaut Acceleration Training Program III (Mercury-Redstone Mission Training)," 

May 8, 1961. 

190 	 Maynard, J. W., Jr., Ferrando, J. A., and Leatherman, P. S., "A Probability Study 

for Determining Escape-Rocket Thrust Eccentricity for the Mercury-Redstone Missions," May 17, 1961. 

191 	 Dalby, J. F., "Methods and Pertinent Data for Project Mercury Flight Computing 

Requirements," June I, 1961. [Supersedes working paper 146] 

614 
193 Erb, R. B., and Stephens, E. W., "An Analysis of Mercury Heat-Shield Performance 

During Entry," June 21, 1961. 

194 Allen, C. C., and Ferrando, J. A., "Preflight Calculated Tracking Data for the Mercury 

Network Test Vehicle MNTV-I," June 26, 1961. 

195 Fisher, L. R., Chauvin, L. T, and Smith, N. F., "Postlaunch Report for MercuryLittle Joe 5B (LJ-5B)," June 12, 1961. 

196 Maynard, J. W., Jr., Behuncik, J. A., and Leatherman, P. S., "Calculated Preflight 

Trajectory Data for Mercury-Redstone Mission No.4 (Capsule No. II)," June 29, 

1961. 

197 Christopher, Kenneth W., and Kranz, E. F., "Mission Directive for Mercury-Redstone 

No.4 (Capsule No. II )," July 7, 1961. 

198 Smith, Norman F., ed., "A Feasibility Study of a Vehicle for 14-Day Orbital Experiments with Animals," July 7, 1961. 

199 Hicks, C. R., Jr., O'Loughlin, J. C., and Hunt, S. A., "Tracking and Sighting Data 

for Stations and Recovery Forces Supporting Mercury-Atlas Mission No.4," July 7, 

1961. 

200 Allen, C. C., and Ferrando, J. A., "Summary of Calculated Preflight Trajectory Data 

for the Mercury Network Test Vehicle MNTV-l," July 12, 1961. 

201 Fisher, L. R., "Mission Directive for Mercury-Scout Mission No. I (MS-I )," July 21, 

1961. 

202 Winterhalter, David L., "Determination of Net Thrust of Project Mercury Tower 

Jettison Rocket and Escape Tower Assembly," July 3, 1961. 

203 Gergory, D . T., and Kranz, E. F., "Mission Directive for Mercury-Atlas No.4 (Capsule 

No. 8A)," July 28, 1961. 

204 Hicks, C. R., Jr., O'Loughlin, J. C., and Hunt, S. A., "Calculated Preflight Trajectory 

Data for Mercury-Atlas Mission No.4 (Capsule No. 8A, Atlas No. 88-D)," August 2, 

1961. 

205 Hartung, Jack B., and Wetmore, Warren C., "A Composite Model Atmosphere for 

Use in Project Mercury Calculations," September 29, 1961. 

206 Zedekar, Raymond G., "Astronaut Preparation for Orbital Flight," October 13, 1961. 

207 Hicks, C. R., Jr., and Allen, C. C., "Calculated Preflight Trajectory Data for MercuryAtlas Mission 5 (MA-5) (Capsule 9-Atlas 93-D)," October 19, 1961. 

208 Gregory, D. T, and von Ehrenfried, M. H., "Mission Directive for Mercury-Atlas 

Mission No.5 (Capsule No.9)," October 20, 1961. 

209 Hammack, J. B., et al., "Postlaunch Report for Mercury-Redstone No. 4 (MR-4) 

(Capsule II)," September 22,1961. 

210 Skopinski, T H., Ferrando, J . A., and Osgood, C. T, "Postlaunch Trajectory Report 

for Mercury-Redstone Mission 3 (MR-3, Capsule 7)," October 12, 1961. 

211 Skopinski, T H., Behuncik, J. A., and Leatherman, P. S., "Postlaunch Trajectory 

Report for Mercury-Redstone Mission 4 (MR-4, Capsule 11)," October 16, 1961. 

212 Hicks, C. R., Jr., Allen, C. C., and O'Loughlin, J. c., "Calculated Preflight Abort 

Trajectory Data and Nominal Trajectory Display Data for MA Mission 5 (MA-5) 

(Capsule 9, Atlas 93-D)," November 6, 1961. 

213 Fields, Edison M., et al., "Postlaunch Report for Mercury-Atlas Mission 4 (MA-4, 

Capsule 8A)," November 10, 1961. 

214 O'Loughlin, J. C., and Leonard, Pauline 0., "Tracking and Sighting Data [or Stations 

615 
Astronaut Preparation and Activities Manual for Mercury-Atlas Mission 6 (MA-6

Spacecraft 13)," December 1, 1961. 

216 	 Christopher, K. W., and Kranz, E. F., "Mission Directive for Mercury-Atlas Mission 

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217 	 Hicks, C. R., Jr., and O'Loughlin, J. C., "Calculated Preflight Trajectory Data fo

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219 Hartung, J. B., "Analysis of Conditions Determining the Transition Regime Betwee

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220 	 Fields, E. M., Everline, Robert T., Jr., Arbic, R. G., Donnelly, Paul C., Sjoberg, S. A

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221 Everline, R. T., Jr., "Postlaunch Report for Mercury-Atlas Mission 5 (MA-5-Space

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222 Boynton, John H., von Ehrenfried, M., "Mission Directive for Mercury-Atlas Missio

7 (MA-7-Spacecraft 18)," April 9, 1962. 

223 	 Everline, R. T., Jr., Fisher, L. R., Bost, James E., Piland, Joseph V., Bland, William M

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224 	 Hicks, C. R., Jr., and Allen, C. c., "Calculated Preflight Trajectory Data for Mercury

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225 	 Hicks, C. R., Jr., Allen, C. C., and O'Loughlin, J. C., "Calculated Preflight Abor

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226 	 McCutcheon, E. P., Morris, D. P., and McBarron, J. W., II, "Astronaut Preparatio

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227 	 Jacobs, Stanley, and Stephens, E. W., "Experimental Results and Analysis of Ablatio

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228 	 Boynton, J. H., and Kranz, E. F., "Mission Directive for Mercury-Atlas Mission No.

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229 	 Allen, C. C., Hicks, C. R., Jr., and Bostick, Jerry C., "Calculated Preflight Trajector

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230 	 Incerto, Donald J., McCreary, Ben F., and Osgood, C. T., "Postlaunch Trajector

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231 	 St. Leger, Leslie G., "Design Study of a Meteoroid Experiment Using an Unmanne

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232 	 Boynton, J. H., and Kranz, E. F., "Manned One-Day Mission-Mission Directive fo

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Titov, Gherman, 700,000 Kilometres Through Space (Moscow, 1962). 

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Von Mises, Richard, Theory oj Flight (2 ed., New York, 1959). 

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Waters, Frank, Robert Gilruth: Engineering Space Exploration (Chicago, 1963). 

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Witkin, Richard, ed., The Challenge of the Sputniks (Garden City, N.Y., 1958). 

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624 
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625 
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---, "Yesterday's Dream, Today's Reality," Airpower Historian, VII (Oct. 1960). 

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---, "Cape Canaveral's 6000-Mile Shooting Gallery," National Geographic, CXVI (Oc

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---, "Exploring Tomorrow with the Space Agency," National Geographic, CXVII (Jul

1960). 

"Flight of the MR-3," Missiles and Rockets, VIII (May 15, 1961). 

Gatland, Kenneth W., "The Vanguard Project," Spaceflight, I (Oct. 1956). 

Gerathewohl, Siegfried J., "Physics and Psychophysics of Weightlessness and Visual Percep

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---, "Weightlessness: The Problem and the Air Force Research Program," Air Universi

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---, and G. R. Steinkamp, "Human Factors Requirements for Putting a Man into Orbit

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Gibbs-Smith, Charles H., "The Wright Brothers and Their Invention of the Practical Ai

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Glennan, T. Keith, "Opportunities for International Cooperation in Space Exploration

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---, "Space Exploration," Vital Speeches (April 16, 1960). 

Graybiel, Ashton, et al., "An Account of Experiments in Which Two Monkeys Were Re

covered Unharmed After Ballistic Space Flight," Aerospace Medicine, XXX (Dec. 1959

Grether, Walter F., "Psychology and the Space Frontier," American Psychologist, XVII (Feb

1962). 

Grimminger, George, "Probability That a Meteorite Will Hit :Jr Penetrate a Body Situate

in the Vicinity of the Earth." Journal oj Applied Physics, XIX (Oct. 1948). 

Haber, Fritz, and Heinz Haber, "Possible Methods of Producing the Gravity-Free State fo

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Hagemann, E. R., "Goddard and His Early Rockets, 1882-1930," Journal oj the Astronautic

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Hall, R. Cargill, "Origins and Development of the Vanguard and Explorer Satellite Programs

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Hanson, C. Frederick, "The Characteristics of the Upper Atmosphere Pertaining to Hyper

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Henry, James P., et al., "Animal Studies of the Subgravity State During Rocket Flight

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626 
Kousnetzov, Andrei G., 

Some Results of Biological Experiments in Rockets and Sputnik II, 

Journal oj Aviation Medicine, XXIX (Nov. 1958). 

Krause, Ernst, "High Altitude Research with V-2 Rockets," Proceedings oj the American Philosophical Society, XCI (1947). 

Lear, John, "The Moon That Refused to be Eclipsed," Saturday Review, XLIII (March 5, 

1960). 

Leavitt, William, "The Weird World of Weightlessness," Air Force, XLII (April 1959). 

Lees, Lester, "Laminar Heat Transfer Over Blunt-Nosed Bodies at Hypersonic Flight Speeds," 

Jet Propulsion, XXVI (April 1956). 

---, "Recent Developments in Hypersonic Flow," Jet Propulsion, XXVII (Nov. 1957). 

Martin, James A., "The Record-Setting Research Airplanes," Aeronautical Engineering Review, 

XXI (Dec. 1962). 

Maxwell, W. R., "Some Aspects of the Origin and Early Development of Astronautics," 

Journal oj British Interplanetmy Society, XVIII (Sept. 1962). 

Means, P., "Mercury Instrumentation: Pilot's Fate Depends on Seven Miles of Wiring," 

Missiles and Rockets, VI (June 13, 1960). 

Mohler, Stanley R., "Wiley Post's Aerospace Achievements," Airpower Historian, XI (July 

1964). 

North, Gilbert B., "Development and Checkout of the NASA Mercury Capsule," Canadian 

Aeronautical Journal, VII (Feb. 1961). 

Oates, Stephen B., "NASA's Manned Spacecraft Center at Houston, Texas," Southwestern 

Historical Quarterly, LXVII (Jan. 1964). 

Oberth, Hermann, "From My Life," Astronautics, IV (June 1959). 

Pendray, G. Edward, "The First Quarter Century of the American Rocket Society," Jet 

Propulsion, XXV (Nov. 1955). 

Piccard, Jacques, "Man's Deepest Dive," National Geographic, CXVIII (July 1960). 

Pierce, Roger J., "Mercury Capsule Communications," Astronautics, IV (Dec. 1959). 

Rae, John B., "Financial Problems of the American Aircraft Industry," Business History 

Review, XXXIX (Spring 1965). 

---, "Science and Engineering in the History of Aviation," Technology and Culture, II (Fall 

1961). 

Ritland, Osmond J., "Concurrency," Air University Quarterly Review, XII (Winter-Spring 

1960-61 ). 

Ritzinger, Frederick R., Jr., and Ellis G. Aboud, "Pressure Suits-Their Evolution and 

Development," Air University Quarterly Review, XVI (Jan.-Feb. 1965). 

Schiff, L. I., "A Report on the NASA Conference on Experimental Test of Theories of Relativity," Physics Today, XIV (Nov. 1961). 

Sheehan, Robert, "Thompson Ramo Wooldridge: Two Wings in Space," Fortune, LXVII 

(Feb. 1963). 

Simons, David G., "The 1954 Aeromedical Field Laboratory Balloon Flights: Physiological 

and Radiobiological Aspects," Journal oj Aviation Medicine, XXVII (April 1956). 

---, "Psychophysiological Aspects of Manhigh," Astronautics, IV (Feb. 1959). 

---, "Review of Biological Effects of Subgravity and Weightlessness," Jet Propulsion, XXV 

(May 1955). 

---, "Space Medicine-The Human Body in Space," Journal oj the Franklin Institute Series, 

monograph No.6 (Dec. 1958). 

---, and C. H. Steinmetz, "Physiological and Radiobiological Aspects of 1954 Aeromedical Field Laboratory Balloon Flight," Journal oj Aviation Medicine, XXVI (1955). 

627 
Stalder, Jackson R., "A Survey of Heat Transfer Problems Encountered by Hypersoni

Aircraft," Jet Propulsion, XXVII (Nov. 1957). 

Stapp, John P., "Acceleration : How Great a Problem?" Astronautics, IV (Feb. 1959). 

Strughold, Hubertus, "Atmospheric Space Equivalence," Journal oj Aviation Medicine, XXV 

(Aug. 1954). 

---, "An Introduction to Astrobiology," Astronautics, V (Dec. 1960). 

---, "The Medical Problems of Space Flight," International Record oj Medicine, CLXVII

(1955) . 

---, "A Simple Classification of the Present and Future Stages of Manned Flight," Journa

oj Aviation M edicine, XXVII (Aug. 1956). 

---, "Space Equivalent Conditions," Astronautica Acta, I (1955) . 

---, "The U.S. Air Force Experimental Sealed Cabin, " Journal oj Aviation Medicine

XXVII (Feb. 1956). 

---, Heinz Haber, Konrad Buettner, and Fritz Haber, "Where Does Space Begin? Func

tional Concept of the Boundaries Between Atmosphere and Space," Aviation Medicine

XXII (Oct. 1951). 

Sweeney, Robert, "Atlas Generates Fabrication Advances," Aviation Week, LXXII (Jan. 4

1960). 

---, "Manufacturing the Atlas at Convair," Interavia, LXXI (1959) . 

Thompson, G. V. E., "Oberth- Doyen of Spaceflight Today," Spaceflight, I (Oct. 1957). 

Toll, Thomas A., and Jack Fischel, " The X-15 Project: Results and New Research," Astro

nautics and Aeronautics, II (March 1964). 

Tsiolkovsky, Konstantin E., "An Autobiography," trans. A. N . Petroff, Astronautics, IV (May 

1959). 

Useller, James W., and Joseph S. Algranti, ."Pilot Reaction to High Speed Rotation," Aero

space Medicine, XXXIV (June 1963). 

"USAF School Simulates Living in Space," Aviation Week, LXVIII (Jan . 27, 1958). 

Van der Wal, F. L., and W. D. Young, "Project MIA (Mouse-in-Able), Experiments on 

Psychological Response to Space Flight," Jet Propulsion, XXXI (Oct. 1959). 

Victory, J. F. , "The NACA: Cradle of Research, " Flying, LX (March 1957). 

Voas, Robert B., "A Description of the Astronaut's Task in Project Mercury," Human Factors

III (Sept. 1961). 

Von Beckh, Harald J., "Human Reactions During Flight to Acceleration, Preceded by o

Followed by Weightlessness," Aerospace Medicine, XXX (June 1959). 

---, "Multidirectional G-Protection in Space Vehicles," Journal oj the British Interplanetary 

Society, XVI (Sept.-Oct. 1958). 

Walker, Joseph A., "I Fly the X-15," National Geographic, CXXII (Sept. 1962). 

Ward, Julian E., Willard R. Hawkins, and Herbert D. Stallings, "Physiologic Response to 

Subgravity, I : Mechanics of Nourishment and Deglutination of Solids and Liquids," Jour

nal of Aviation M edicine, XXX (March 1959). 

---, vVillard R. Hawkins, and Herbert D. Stallings, "Physiologic Response to Subgravity

II: Initiation of Micturition," Aerospace Medicine, XXX (Aug. 1959). 

Weaver, Kenneth F., "Countdown for Space," National Geographic, CXIX (May 1961). 

Webb, James E., "International Relations and Space," Vital Speeches (Oct. I, 1961). 

---, "New Age of Discovery," Airpower Historian, XI (July 1964). 

Westbrook, C. B., "The Pilot's Role in Space Flight," Aerospace Engineering, XVIII (Nov

1959). 

628 
UNPUBLISHED WORKS 

Ambrose, Mary Stone, "The National Space Program," M.A. thesis, 2 vols., American Universi ty, 1961. 

[Blount, Earl E.,Jr.], Special Communications Staff, North American Aviation, Inc., "Comment on the National Space Program: 'Pro and Con' ," Vol. III, No. I, Sept. I, 1964 

[Vol. I-July I, 1963; Vol. II-Sept. I, 1963]. 

Bullard, John A., "History of the Redstone Missile System," AMC 23M, Army Missile Command, 1965. 

Bushnell, David, "History of Research in Subgravity and Zero-G at the Air Force Missile 

Development Center, 1948-1959," Air Force Missile Development Center, 1959. 

---, "Major Achievements in Biodynamics: Escape Physiology at the Air Force Missile 

Development Center, 1953-1958," Air Force Missile Development Center, 1959. 

---, "Major Achievements in Space Biology at the Air Force Missile Development Center, 

1953-1957," Air Force Missile Development Center [1958]. 

---, "The Sacramento Peak Observatory, 1947-1962," Air Force Office of Aerospace 

Research, 1962. 

"Chronology of Early USAF Man-in-Space Activity, 1945-1958," Air Force Systems Command [1965]. 

"Chronology of Early Air Force Man-in-Space Activity, 1955-1960," Air Force Systems 

Command [1965]. 

Lasby, Clarence G., "German Scientists in America: Their Importation, Exploitation, and 

Assimilation, 1945-1952," Ph .D. dissertation, University of California at Los Angeles, 

1962. 

Levine, Arthur S., "United States Aeronautical Research Policy, 1915-1958: A Study of the 

Major Policy Decisions of the National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics," Ph.D. 

dissertation, Columbia University, 1963. 

Peyton, Green, and Jean Evans, "History, Aerospace Medical Division, Air Force Systems 

Command: Reorganization, I November 1951-30 June 1962," Brooks Air Force Base, 

Tex., 1962. 

Whipple, Marven R., "History of the Air Force Missile Test Center," Patrick Air Force Base, 

Fla., 1957. 

POSTFLIGHT REPORTS 

Proceedings oj a Conjerence on Results oj the First u.s. Manned Suborbital Space Flight, United 

States National Aeronautics and Space Administration in Cooperation with National 

Institutes of Health and National Academy of Sciences (Washington, 1961). 

Results oj the Second u.s. Manned Suborbital Space Flight, July 21, 1961, Manned Spacecraft 

Center, National Aeronautics and Space Administration (Washington, 1961). 

Results oj the First United States Manned Orbital Space Flight, February 20, 1962, Manned Spacecraft Center, National Aeronautics and Space Administration (Washington, 1962). 

Results oj the Second United States Manned Orbital Space Flight, May 24, 1962, National Aeronautics 

and Space Administration, Manned Spacecraft Center, Project Mercury, NASA SP-6 

(Washington, 1962). 

Results oj the Third United States Manned Orbital Space Flight, October 3, 1962, National Aeronautics and Space Administration, Manned Spacecraft Center, Project Mercury, NASA 

SP-12 (Washington, 1962). 

629 
*"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No. 5 (MA- 5)," (NASA Manned 

Spacecraft Cen ter, 1961). 

*"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No.6: Part I, Mission Analysis," 

(NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, 1962). 

*"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No.7 (MA-7), Part I, Mission Analysis," (NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, 1962). 

*"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No.8: Part I, Mission Analysis," 

(NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, 1962). 

*"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for MA-8: Part III, Air-Ground Voice and Debriefing," 

(NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, 1962). 

*"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No. 9 (MA-9): Part I, Mission 

Analysis," (NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, 1963). 

*"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No. 9 (MA-9): Part II, Data," 

(NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, 1963). 

*"Postlaunch Memorandum Report for Mercury-Atlas No. 9 (MA-9: Part III, Mission 

Transcripts," (NASA Manned Spacecraft Center, 1963). 

*Classified flight reports not listed as Project Mercury Working Papers. 

630 
 
~ ~ 

Appendix A: Functional Organization of Mercury 

RESEARCH 

....DE t:; MENT---

I ~'~"""'l 

IFI;ghC ' Re,eo,ch I"""'~ en... I 

'-----­ ----' '''''''1 

Il ew;, R.....ch I ~ Cen'e, """..; 

Il gl~en~:a, ch ' '''' '' '~ 

t 1l"' " 

WtcrshallSpoce :. 

Fligh' Cen'e' """"I 

B '''''''I 

"'" 1"'''''1 

"" 1""'''1 

G ''''',j 

•••••••••••• PROGRAM I MANAGEM ENT ••••••••••• 

[];[] 

'lonHc : 

Missile IIII~III I 

Range ~ 

I McDannel I f ~ Support ''''1 

""I 

§ SFC : 

S u ..f upper! 

• I Pl~~~~~:~I ON • 

I"""'l DOD 

t"'''''1 We"em Elec. 

t,,'''''1 l;ncaln l ab . 

1",,,,,1 FAA 

.t..",1 WRE 

Department of 

Defense 

Rcprc,cntative 

• ;~7~~ s 2 

''''''''l DOD Range I."'.... Coordlnotor ~ 

"""''''~ AMR f"""i 

~ APGC I""'''~ 

~ 1 WSMR f"""! I =oJ ......~ 

L""'i NASA I ; Network 

L""~J 

> 

'"'C 

'"'C 

~ 

Z 

t1 

H 

X 

> 
Appendix B 

tn 

"" Workflow Organization of Mercury 
Appendix C 
 

Organization Charts 
 
--

SPACE TASK GROUP 

0') 

w 

~ 

August 1959 

DIRECTOR OF PROJECT MERCURY 

R. R. Gilruth 

ASSOe. DIRECTOR OF PROJECT MERCURY (DE VEL. ) 

e. J . Donlon 

ASSOe. DIRECTOR OF PROJECT MERCURY (OPER. ) 

w. e. Will ioms 

I 

Col. K. G. Lindell - USAF 
 

Lt. Col. M. L. Raines - USA 
 

Comdr. P. L. Havenstein - USN 
 

W. K. Johnson, NASA-Langley 
 

I 

P. E. Purser - Spec . Asst. 

K. S. Kleinknecht - Te ch. Asst. 

R. L. Zovasky - Exec. Asst . 

M. A. Byrnes, J,. - Staff Asst. 

I I I 1 

PERSON NEL OFFICE BUDGET AND FINANCE OFFICE PROCUREMENT AND SUPPL Y OFFICE ADM. SERVICES OFFICE 

B. H. Goodwin J . P. Donovan G . F. Bailey G. W. Boswick, Jr. 

I 


ASTRONAUTS AND TRAINING 

K. G. Lindell - Head 

W. K. Douglas - Fit. Surgeon 

R. B. Voas - Training Officer 

I
 

PUBLIC AFFAIRS OFFICE 

J. A. Powers 

TECHNI CAL SERVICES 

J . A. Kinzler 

I 
 OPERATIONS DIVISION FLIGHT SYSTEMS DIVISION e. W. Mathews - Chief M. A. Faget, Chief G . M. Preston - Asst . Chief (impl . ) R. O. Piland - Asst. Chief C. e. Kraft, Jr. - Asst. Chief (Plans and Arrang . ) J. T. Markley - Exec . Engr. e. c. Critzos - Exec. Engr. 

1 
 ENGINEERING DIVISION 

J. A. Chamberlin - Chief 

A. J. Meyer, Jr. - Asst. Chief 

N. F. Smith - Exec. Engr. 
OFF ICE OF DIRE CTOR 

R. R. Gilruth, Director of Project Mercury 

C. J. Donlon , As.oc. D;,. (Devel.) 

W. C. Williams, Assoc. Dir . (Oper.) 

L-______-----......J..--------il DO D PROJECT MERCU RY I I SUPPORT 

I BU SINESS MANAGEMENT 

Procuremen t a nd Supply Office 

Pe rsonnel Office 

Budget and Finance Office 

Administrative Se rvices Office 

Securi ty Office 

FLIGHT SYS TEMS DIVISION 

M. A. Fogel, Ch;ef 

R. O. Pi lond, Asst. Chief for Advanced Projec ts 

A. C. Bond, ~st. Chi e f fo r Mercury Support 

I I Apollo 

EN GINE ERIN G DIVIS ION 

J. A . Chamberlin, Chief 

A. J. M.eyer, Jr . . Aut. Chief 

W. M . Bland , Jr., AUI. Ch ief 

I STAFF OFFICES 

Astronauts and Training 

Digita l Computing Group 

Public Affairs Office 

Te chn ical Serv ices 

OPERATIONS DIVI SION 

C. W. Mothew., Ch;ef 

G . M . PresIon, As . .. Ch;ef ( Imp l.) 

C. C. Kro ft, Jr., Asst. Chief (Plans and Arr'Cng . ) 

I 

AMR 

I I 

Mercury Project Support Field McDonne ll I Coordi nof ion I Cop.ule 

I Pro ject 

Office Office

ELEC TRICAL SYSTEMS BRANCH 

Communications Systems Section 

Instrument Systems Sect ion 

FLI G HT DYNAM ICS BRANC H 

Flight Control Seclion 

Dynamics Analysis Se ction 

Space Mechanics Section 

Aerodynam ics Sec l ion 

LIFE SYS TEM S BRANCH 

Aerospace Medicol Section 

Crew Equipment Secti on 

SYS TEMS EN G INEERIN G BRANCH 

Systems Integration Sec tion 

Equipment Engineering Section 

Me chanica l Syitems Sec tion 

STRU CTUR ES BRANCH 

Structural Anal ysis Section 

loads Section 

Heot Transfer Section 

Office Office 

CO NTRACT S AND SCHEDU LI NG BRANCH 

Contracti Section 

Schedul ing Section 

PROJE CT ENG INEERING BRANCH 

MIS SION ANAL YS IS BRANCH 

Tra jectory Analysis Section 

Operational Analysis Section 

f.Aothema tica l Analysis Section 

fLI G HT CONTROL BRANCH 

Control Central and FI ight 

Safety Section 

Train ing Aids Section 

RECO VERY OPERATIONS BRAN CH 

LOCA TED AT CANAVERAL 

LAUNCH OPERATIONS BRANCH 

Instrumentat ion Section 

Capsule Systems Section 

Techn ical Serv icei Sect ion 

635 
 
0"> 

~ 

0"> 

MANNED SPACECRAFT CENTER 

September 1962 

(!-tIEF MEDICAL 

ADVISOR 

DIRECTOR 

GoI'urh 

ASSOCIATE DIRECTOR 

W.llioml 

SPECiAL ASSI STANT 

:.:::::.:..:;- •• -­- - - -­i ;:::=:::::::t 

J PROCUREMENT t SPACECRAFT 

CONTRACTS DIVISION MANAGEME~l OFFICE 

l ong Coll lnl 

PERSONNEl DIVISION 

PRO JECT ENGINEERING PROJECT 

FIELD OfFICE (CAPE) ADM INISTRATION OFFI CE 

ENGIN EERING LAUNCH VEf-lI (lE 

OPfRATIONS OffICE INTECRATION OFFICE LOGISTICS DIVISION Mire"!'"11 

ENGINEERIN G DATA &. McDONNELL FIELD 

MEASUREMENTS OFFICE REPRESENTAT IVE OFI=ICE 

Co o)' 

COMPUTA TI ONS &. DATA 

REDUCTION DIVIS ION 

St oc k 

PROGRAM ANAL YSIS & 

EVALUATION OFFICE 

8, i991 

APOLLO SPACECRAFT 

PROJE CT OffiCE 

F.id: 

COMMAND &. S[RVICE 

MODULE OFFI CE 

LUNAR LAN 01 NG 

MODULE OFF ICE 

PLANNING & 

RESOURCES OFF ICE 

ASSISTANT DIRE CTOR f OR 

ENGIN EERING SUPPORT 

INSTRUMENTATION &. 

DA TA SYSTEMS DIVISION 

SYS TEMS INTEGR ATI ON 

OFFICE 

Vlt:yell 

APOllO OFFICE AT 

N . AMERIC AN AVIATION 

GUIDANCE t CONTROL 

DEVEL OPMENT OFFICE 

Gi lbcfI 

DESIG N ENG INE ER ING 

DIVISION 

' Acling 
NATIONAL AERONAUTICS AND SPACE ADMINISTRATION 
 

November 1, 1961 
 

-----------.. ,--------L 

RESEARCH 
 

ADVISORY 
 

i 

OFFICE OF 

PUBLIC 
 

INFORMATION 
 

Director 
 

O. B. Lloyd 
 

I COMMlllEES 

l OFFICE OF TECHNICAL 

INFORMATION &. 

EDUCATION 

Shelby Thamps.on 

DepuryDireClor 

M.elvinS.~ 

i 

Thomas E. 

eMorton J. 

DIREClO< OF 
 

METEOROLOGICAL 
 

SYSTEMS 
 

Maui, Tepp4:r 

DIRECTOR OF 

COMMUNICA TlONS 

SYSTEMS 

l«,nordJoffe 

OfRECTOR OF 

TECHNICAL 

PROGRAMS 

Wtlliam A. Fllrrling 

DIRECTOR OF l r 

MANAGEMENT 

REPORTS 

Jenkins 

I 

FFICE OF APPLICATIONS 

Director 

(Vacant) 

Deputy Director 

Stoller 

OFFICE OF 

PROGRAMS 

Direclor 

D. D. Wyotr 

DIRECTOR OF 

FACILITIES 

DIRECTOR OF 

RESOURCE 

PROGRAMMING 

D. O. WyaTt 

(AcI) 

I 

OFFICE OF TRACKING 

& DATA ACQUISITION 

Dirf:Clor 

Edmond C. Buckle y 

Deput y Oi tec!(I( 

GeroldM . Tre1:tynski 

I-' 

L 

AUDIT DIVISION 

Director 

Raymond Einhorn 

SAfETy 

OFFICER 

G.D. McCauley 

I 

L 

FINANCIAL 

MANAGEMENT 

DI VISION 

Director 

~beTl8.lewit 

I 

A;)MINISTRATIVE SERVICES 

DIVISION 

Direclor 

StephenJ. Grillo 

l 

DIVISION 

I 

PROCUREMENT &. SUPPl Y 

DI ViSiON 

Director 

Er n'"tW. Brockel! 

COORDINATION 

DIRECTOR OF 

RElIA81l1TY & QUALITY 

ASSURANCE 

Londi~ S. Gep~art 

PERSONNEL DIVISION 

Direcror 

RobertJ , locklen 

SECURITY & INSPECTlONSj I Director 

Robertl.Bell 

MANAGEMENT 

ANALYSIS DIVISION 

Director 

Rolph E. Ulmer 

l

TECHNICAL PROGRAM 

COORDINATION 

Newell D. Sanden 

I 

OFFlaOF 

ADVANCED RESEARCH AND 

TECHNOLOGY 

Director 

Ira H, Abbott 

DIRECTOR OF 

)01 NT AE C- NASA 

OFFICE 

PROGRAM REVIEW & 

RESOURCES MANAGEMENT 

Boyd My.u II 

DIREClOROF 

SPACE VEHICLES 

Milton 8. Ames 

DIRECTOR OF 

ELECTRONICS & 

CONTROL 

Albe" J. Kelley 

CHIEF SCIENTIST 

(Vacant) 

1 

I 

OFFICE OF SPACE SCIENCES I DireClor 

Homer E. N....... II 

Deputy D;r.ctor 

Edgar M. Cortri9ht 

I 

SPACESCIENCE 

COMMITTEE 

STEERING ~ m"",moo' DIRECTOR OF PROGRAM REVIEW & GRANTS & RESEARCH RESOURCES CONIRACTS MANAGEMENf TholTlO~ l. K. Smull John D. Nicoloidet 

DIRECIOROF DIRECfOA OF LAUNCH VEHiClES LUNAR & PlANETARY & PROPULSION PROGRAMS PROGRAMS OronW. Nich I 

GEOPHYSICS & 

DIRECTOR OF 

BIOSCIENCE 

PROGRAMS 

(Vocanl) I 

DIRECIOO OF ~ 

ASIRO~~~Y ~~~RAMS '-----_____ -' 

John D. YOU"9 

(Acl) 

I 

OFFiCE OF MANNED SPACE 

FLIGHT 

Director 

D. Brainerd HollT'les 

ENGINEERING 

N icho las E. GoI.,.... i" 

DIRECTOR OF 

PROGRAM REVIEW & 

RESOURCES 

MANAGEMENJ 

WtlliclT'l ~ . lilly 

DIRECIO« OF SYSTEMS ~ 

'--------' 

DIRECTOR OF 

AEROSPACE 

MEDICINE 

Cherles H. Roodmon 

DIRECTOROF 

LAUNCH VlHICLES 

& PROPULSION 

MihonW. Ro'Cfl 

I 

DIRECTOR OF SPACE 

CRAFT & FLIGHT MISSIONS 

GeorgeM. Low 

N 

ci 

Z 

;:: 

M 

CO 

ci.. 

Cl! 


U 


e 

C1l 

CO 


CO 


o 

OJ 

W'ESTERN t­ OPERATIONS OFFICE 


Director 


Roberl W. Komrn
 CO 

N I I U') 

N 

I 

NATIONAL AERONAUTICS AND SPACE ADMINISTRATION 

NATIONAL AERONAUTICS 

I 

AND SPACE COUNCIL 

Acting ~cretary ••••••••• 

David Z. Beckler 

r INVENTIONS ANO 

CONTRIBUTIONS 

BOARD r 

August 1960 

OFFICE OF THE ADMINISTRATOR 

........ LIAISON 

CIVll,'AN-MILITARY 
 COMMITTEE 1 Deputy Adminisrrator 

T. Keith Glennon 

ChOlrman, Vacancy 

Hugh l. Dryden W. M. Under-Yood, Sec. 

Assistants 

I

L1I ,~""'" JohnP, Hogen 

I 

OFFICE OF THE 

ASSOCIATE ADMINISTRATOR OFFICE OF 

RELIABILITY AND 

Rob~rt C. Seamons 

Auociole Administrator 

SYSTEMS ANAL YSI5 

Deputy - Vacancy londi~ G. Gepharl 

Assislonf"!, 

T 

OFFICE OF TECHNICAL 

If\lFORMA.TlON AND OFFICE OF ADVANCED 

RESEARCH PROGR.Mo\S EDUCA TlONAL PROGRAMS 

Ira H. Abbatl Director 

Deputy Shelb6e~~~;pson 

Milton B. Ames ..v.elvin S. Doy 

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR 
 

FOR 
 

Op~!~~~~R~;B~~MS ~ 

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR 
 

FOR 
 

AERODYNAMICS AND 
 

FLIGHT MECHANICS 
 

Herrnonr1 H. Kurzweg 
 

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR 

EDUCATIONAL FOR PROGRAMS ~ 

Herb H. Ro$en 

FOR TECHNICAL INFORMATI 

Bertram A. Mulcah) 

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR 

POW'E~~~ANTS ~ Emers.on W. Cor11or1 

LANGLEY AMES 

RESEARCH CENTER RESEARCH CENTER 

Longley Field, Vo. Noffell Field. Calif. 

Floyd l. Thomp!tOn H1 
 5mith J. DeFrance

z 

(' 

<0 

M 

<0 

ci. 

(j) 

() 

oj 

rr.. 

:J:) 

<0 

o 

(J) 

OFFICE OF LIFE 

SCIENCES PROGRAMS 

I ASSISTANTS TECHNICAL Clark T. Randt 

.L..)MINISTRATIVE Special Assislant, 

Aerospace Medicine 

Charles H. Roodmon 

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR ASSISTANT DIRECTOR II FOR 
 

BIOENGINEERING 
 LIFE SCIE~~:S GRANTS 

AND CONTRACTS 

Freemon H. Quimby Alfred H. Moyo 

ASSIST ANT DIRECTOR 

FOR 

ASSIST ANT DIRECTOR FOR 
 

BIOSCIENCE 
 LIFE SCIENCES 

(Vacancy) RESEARCH CENTER ~ (Vacar1cy) II 

OFFla OF LAUNCH 
 

VEHICLE PROGRAMS 
 

Director 
 

Don R. Omonder 
 

Deputy 

Abraham Hyoll 

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR ASSIST ANT DIRECTOR 

FOR FOR 

VEHICLES PROPULSION 

MiltonW. ROJen 

~ Elliot Mitchell 

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR 
 

FOR 
 

LAUNCH OPERATIONS 
 

Somuel Snyder 
 H 
 

GEORGE C. MA.RSHALL 
 

SPACE FLIGHT 
 

CENTER 
 

Huntsville, Ala. 
 

WernhervonSraun 
 

NASA LAUNCH 
 

II mo""' FOR 
 ""00' APPLICATIONS AND 
 

MANNED FLIGHT 
 

PROGRAMS 
 

Newell D. Sonders 
 

ASSIST ANT DIRECTOR 
 

FOR 
 

SPACE FLIGHT 
 

OPERATIONS 
 

EdrnondC.Buckley 
 

OFFICE OF SPACE 

FLIGHT PROGRAMS 

Director 

Abe Silverstein 

Deputy 

Homer E. Newell 

HASSISTANT DIRECTOR FOR PROGRAM PLANNING 

AND COORDINATION 

O. D. Wyotr 

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR 
 

FOR 
 

SATELLITE & SOUNDING 
 

ROCKET PROGRAMS 
 

Norton Stoller 
 

ASSISTANT DIRECTOR 
 

FOR 
 

LUNAR AND 
 

PLANE TARY PROGRAMS 
 

E. M. Cartright 
 

GODDARD SPACE 
 

FLIGHT CENTER 
 

Greenbelt, Md. 
 

Harry J. Goell 
 

to­ OPERATIONS

t!) DIRECTORATE 

Cape Canaveral. Fla 

<0 Kurt Debus N 

N 

I 

Appendix D 
 

Flight Data Summary 
Flight Data Summary 

The information in this revised flight data summary is taken from various 

sources according to the authors' best estimate of reliability. The basic format 

was made by Jack C. Heberlig for the NASA-MSC newspaper issue of "Mercury 

Program Summary," October 3-4, 1963, then republished as MSC Fact Sheet 

"Orig." 

SIC L/V sched­ Orbits/period, Weightless

Mission Pilot Date No. No. uled in min:sec time,

January hr: min : sec 

1959 

LJ-l . . . . . . . . . . . 8/21/59 BP 7/59 . .... . .... . . 

Big Joe .. . . . . . . . . . 
 9/ 9/59 BP lO-D 8/59 . ... . .... ...

LJ-6 .. . ...... 10/ 4/59 BP Insert . . .. . .. . . . .. ... .

LJ-IA .. . . . ... 11/ 4/59 BP Insert

LJ-2 ... "Sam" mon­ 12/ 4/59 BP 9/59 3: 13

key 

LJ-IB . ... . .. "Miss Sam" .. 1/21 /60 BP 11/59 0:28

Beach abort .. 5/ 9/60 Insert

MA-l .. . . ...... .. 7/29/60 4 50-D 11/59

LJ-5 . .. . . . . . . . . . . . 11/ 8/60 3 . . . . . .. . 12/59 . .. ... ... 

MR-l .. .... .. 11/21/60 2 MR-l 10/59 . .. . . . . . . . . ..... ...

MR-IA .. . . .. 12/19/60 2A MR-3 Insert 5:30

MR-2 .... "Ham" chimp. 1/31/61 5 MR-2 12/59 6:40

MA-2 ... 2/21/61 6 67-D 1/60

LJ-5A 14 Insert . ... . ... . .. .. .... 3/18/61 

MR-BD .. BP MR-5 Insert .. ... .... .. . ........ , ... ... .. . . 3/24/61 
 

MA-3 .. ..... .. . . . .. Robot .. . .. 4/25/61 8 100-D 2/60 

638 
 
- -- ---

authors have returned to the primary classified postlaunch memorandum reports 

for most of the figures herein. 

The sixth column of the table shows the originally scheduled (January 1959) 

launch date. This early schedule represented optimistic planning in that it 

assumed a trouble-free preparation and flight program. As the program progressed, some flights were eliminated, others added, 

based on experience gained. 

Flight 

duration, 

hr: min: sec 

Apogee/ 

perigee, 

st. miles 

----­

0:00:20 0.4 

0: 13:00 

0:05:10 

95 

37 

0:08:11 9 

0:11:06 53 

0:08:35 9 

0:01: 16 

0:03:.18 

.5 

8. 1 

0:02 :22 10. 1 

0:00:02 0 

0: 15:45 130.7 

0: 16:39 157 

0:17 :56 

0:23:48 

114 

7.7 

0:08:23 11 3.5 

0:07: 19 4. 5 

Range, 
 

max., 
 

st. miles 
 

O. 5 

1, 496 

79 

11 

194 

12 

1 

6 

14 

.. .. .. ... 

235 

422 

1,432 

18 

307 

0 

Velocity 
 

max.­


spa ., 
 

fix. mph 
 

. . .. . . . . 

14,857 

3,075 

2,022 

4,466 

2,022 

976 

1,701 

1, 785 

. ...... 

4, 909 

5,857 

13,227 

I, 783 

5,123 

1,177 

Max. 

q, psf 

. ... . . . 

675 

3,400 

168 

2,150 

1,070 

.. .. .. . . 

.. . '" .

1,420 

.. . .. . . . 

560 

575 

991 

1, 580 

580 

880 

Max. 

g 

'" . . . 

12 

5. 9 

16.9 

14.8 

4. 5 

. . 

'" . 

6 

. . . . . . 

12.4 

14. 7 

15.9 

8 

II 

11 

and objectives expanded, 

RePrimary objective sults 

SC/LV 

Max. q abort and F 

escape 

Ablation heatshield S/F 

Capsule aerodynam- P 

ics and integrity 

Max. q abort and P 

escape 

Primate escape at S 

high altitude 

Max. q abort and S 

escape 

Off-the-pad escape S 

Qualify SIC-Atlas F 

combination 

Qualify MAC SIC at F 

max. q 

Qualify S/C-Red- F 

stone combination 

Qualify systems for S 

suborbital 

Primate suborbital SIP 

and auto abort 

Qualify MA interface S 

Max. q escape and P 

impact 

Perfect MR booster S 

F 

Atlas orbit 

Quick test of S/C639 
 
LJ-5B . ... . . .. . , ... . . . . . . . . . 4/28/61 14A . . . . . . . . Insert . . .... . ... . . . . . . . . . . . . 

MR-3 .. .. . ... 

Shepard: 

Freedom 7... 5/ 5/61 7 MR-7 1/60 ... ..... .. . . 5: 16 

MR-4 . . . . . . . . 

Gri~som: 

Liberty Bell 7. 7/21/61 11 MR-8 2/60 . .. . . . . . . . . . 5: 18 

MA-4 . .. . .. .. Robot . . ... 9/l3/61 8A 88-D 3/60 1/88: 19 1:32:28 

NA .. .. . . Insert ... . . . . . . . . , . MS-l . . ...... . . .. .... . . . . . 11/ 1/61

MA-5 . .. . . ... "Enos" chimp. 11/29/61 9 93-D 3/60 2/88:26 3:04:38

Glenn: 

MA-6 . .. . .. Friendship 7.. 2/20/62 13 109-D 4/60 3/88:29 4:48:27 

Carpenter: 

MA-7 ... . .... Aurora 7.... 5/24/62 18 107-D 5/60 3/88:32 4:39:32 

Schirra: 

MA-8 . . . ... Sigma 7.. . .. 10/ 3/62 16 113-D 6/60 6/88 : 55 8:56:22 

Cooper: 

MA-9 . . . . . Faith 7.... . 5/15/63 20 130-D 8/60 22.5/88:45 34 :03:30 

LJ = Little Joc Beach Abort= Capsule escape rocket test 

MA=Mercury-Atlas Big Joe=MA development flight 

MR= Mercury-Redstone MR-BD=MR booster development 

MS = Mercury-Scout 

640 

0:05:25 2.8 9 1,780 1,920 10 Max. q escape and 

sequence 

SIP 

0: 15: 28 116.5 303 5,134 580 11 Evaluate man-inspace 

S 

0: IS: 37 

1:49:20 

0:00:43 

3:20:59 

118.3 

142. 1/98.9 

.. . . . .... . 

147.4/99.5 

302 

26,047 

.. . ... . . .. 

5:),892 

5, 168 

17,526 

..... 

17,530 

610 

975 

... . . .. 

1,012 

II. 1 

7. 7 

' " . 

7. 7 

Corroborate man-inspace 

S/C environmental 

control in orbit 

. . .. . . .. . ... . 

Primate test of ECS 

in orbit 

PIS 

P 

F 

PIS 

4:55:23 162. 2/100 75,679 17, 544 982 7. 7 Evaluate man-inorbit 

S 

4:56:05 166. 8/99. 9 76,021 17, 549 967 7. 8 Corroborate man-inorbit 

S 

9: 13: II 175.8/100 143,983 17,558 964 8.1 Man-machine in 

orbit for 9 hours 

S 

34: 19: 49 165. 9/100. 3 546, 167 17,547 974 7. 6 Manned I-day mission in orbit 

S 

S=Success 

P=Partial 

F=Fallure 

641 

Appendix E 
 

Personnel Growth 
 

Date 

October 1958 ........ ... ................... ... . ... ... . 
 

December 1958 ........ ... ....... ....... ... . ...... .. . . 
 

June 1959 ......... .... ............. ....... ........ . . . 
 

December 19:59 ........ . . . .......... .... ............ . . 
 

June 1960 ............................... " .......... . 
 

December 1960 .. ....... ..... .............. ... ... . ... . 
 

June 1961 .................................... . ...... . 
 

December 1961 ........ . . . . . ..... ... ....... ..... ..... . 
 

June 1962 ......... ...... .......... .. .... ... ... ... ... . 
 

December 1962 .... .. ................ .. ............. . . 
 

June 1963 ....... . ................................... . 
 

Scientists and 

engineers a 

35 
 

(I75) 
 

(225) 
 

266 
 

(300) 
 

329 
 

354 
 

470 
 

799 
 

1254 
 

1514 
 

Total 

45 
 

200 
 

(370) 
 

508 
 

(580) 
 

668 
 

794 
 

1152 
 

1786 
 

2392 
 

3345 
 

a Based on figures supplied by Mary K. Wood of NASA Headquarters Manpower Analysis Division. 

( ) Interpolated figures. 

Date 

SPace Task Group: 

January 1959. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

July 1959. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

January 1960. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

July 1960. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

January 1961. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

July 1961. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Manned Spacecraft Center: 

January 1962. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

July 1962. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

January 1963. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

July 1963. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

Mercury Program 

(NASA personnel) a 

150 
 

350 
 

500 
 

550 
 

680 
 

770 
 

850 
 

670 
 

500 
 

400 
 

a Based on figures supplied by Robert B. Merrifield of NASA-MSa Office of Long-Range Planning. 

642 
 
Appendix F 

Project Mercury Cost Summaries 

Precise costs directly attributable to any research and development program 

are very difficult to determine, and Project Mercury is no exception in this regard. 

Overhead and support costs accrued for several projects must be allocated and 

thus estimates rather than specifics are required. The total summary costs are 

official agency estimates as of February 28, 1966. Costs within the spacecraft 

manufacturer's contract are broken down in a second table, and a third details 

costs incurred by the Department of Defense in support of Project Mercury. 

Summary Estimates of Costs 
 

Pro ject Mercury 
 

[As of Feb. 28, 1966] 

Mercury/I-Day Mission Projects: 

Spacecraft ................... . .. .......... .......... ... . .... . . . . $143,413,000 

Launch vehicle procurement ....... . . ... . . ......... . ............. . 82,847,000 

Operations and support ............... . ...... .... . . . . . .. .. . . ... . . 49,298,000 

Total project costs ...... . .... ....... .............. ... ..... . . .. . $275,558,000 

Tracking and Data Acquisition: 

Operations and equipment ....... ...... . . .. . ..... .. .. ... ... . ..... . $71,900,000 

Facilities .................. .. .. ... . . ... . .... .. . . .. ..... ... .... . . 53,200,000 

Total TDA costs ... . ....... .. ............. . .. . . . . ..... . . . ..... . $125, 100, 000 

Grand total costs ..... ... . .. .. .. .. . .. .. ... . ... . . . .. .. . . ... .. ... . $400,658,000 

643 
 
--------

Structure and Systems: 

Nonrecurring development. . . . . . . ... ........ .. . . . .. . . .. . .. . ... . 
 

Recurring cost (20 units) .... . ... . ... ......... ..... .. .... . . . .... . 
 

Models and mockups .............. . .... .. . ... . . . .... . .. ... ........ . 
 

Ground-test program ...... .. .. . .... .... .... . .. ....... ............. . 
 

Trainers ... . .... . . .. .. .... .......... ...... ........... ... . ..... ... . 
 

Thermal balance test program ....... ....... .. . ......... ... ... . . .. . . . 
 

Publications, specifications, and data ................................ . 
 

Launch support: 
 

St. Louis . .. .. .. . ..... . . .... ....... .... . . . ...... .. ... ... . . .... . 
 

Cape Kenned y .. .. ........ . . ... .............. ... .......... .. .. . 
 

Spare parts ...... . . ... ....... ..... .... ... .. .. .. ... . .. . ..... .. . ... . 
 

Aerospace ground equipment ... ... .... ........... ... .. . ... . . . ...... . 
 

Repairs and modification ....... . .... .. . . . .. .......... ....... .. .. . . 
 

I-day mission changes ... . . . ...... .......... ... . ...... .. . ... . .. .. . . . 
 

Total .. ....... ........ ... .. ..... . . . . ..... ..... .. .. . . .... . ... . 
 

$40,219,000 

49, 354,000 

1,489,000 

887,000 

3,088, 000 

5,712, 000 

345,000 

1,187,000 

14,750,000 

5,432,000 

9,951,000 

1,049,000 

9,337,000 

$142,800,000 

Summary of DOD Support of Project Mercury 

[through June 1963] 

[Extracted from: "Final Report to the Secretary of Defense on Department of Defense Support of 

Project Mercury," approved by Maj. Gen. L. I. Davis, USAF, Sept. II, 1963J 

Actual costs (in thousand 

Type/level of support .. NASA 

reimbursed 

-----1--------------1---­

Agency 

AIR FORCE: 

Atlas boosters, launch crews and 73, 862 

(SSD). 

Space Systems Division 

facili ties, engineering, aircraft 

support. 23 people plus contractors. 216 aircraft-hours. 

AF Missile Test Center Operation of 3 network stations, 6, 569 

(AFMTC). launch support, assist in recovery. 173 people, 2,722 aircraft-hours. 

.. Average number of full-time people. 

644 

dollars) 

DOD 

absorbed 

1,351 

5,652 

Total 

75, 213 

12,221 
Agency 

______________•______ __ 

Air Proving Ground Center 

(APGC). 

Air Force Communications 

Service (AFCS). 

Military Air Transport Service (MATS). 

Air Rescue Service (ARS). 

Aeronautical Chart and Information Center (ACIC). 

Tactical Air Command 

(TAC). 

Air Defense Command 

(ADC). 

U.S. 	 Air Force Europe 

(USAFE). 

Pacific Air Force (PACAF). 

Other. 

Total Air Force costs. 

NAVY: 

Fleet Operations. 

Pacific Missile Range (PMR). 

Type /level of support a 

1___________________________1 

Operation of I network station, 

assist in network training. 21 

people, 551 aircraft-hours. 

Communications engineering 

and installation; communicator deployment to contingency ci tes. 8 people. 

Airlift people and cargo. 

Aircraft support to theater commanders; deploy forces for 

contingency recovery. 6,426 

aircraft-hours. 

Cartographic Service. 10 

people. 

Aircraft support for contingency 

recovery. 546 aircraft-hours. 

Radar aircraft support. 245 

aircraft-hours. 

Deployment to remote sites for 

contingency recovery. 2,091 

aircraft-hours. 

Deployment to remote sites for 

contingency recovery. 331 

aircraft-hours. 

Air Weather Service: weather 

surveillance and forecasting. 

AEDC and AFFTC: test facilities. 

Astronaut and capsule recovery 

in planned areas. 1,441 shipdays, 4,044 aircraft-hours. 

_____ 

NASA 

reimbursed 

________ 

22 

140 

1,040 

1,063 

5 

42 

3 

720 

362 

8 

DOD 

absorbed 

956 

201 

69 

260 

190 

87 

271 

279 

189 

911 

1_______ 

Total 

978 

341 

1,109 

1,323 

195 

129 

274 

999 

551 

919 

______ 

83,836 10,416 94,252 

8,934 15,110 24,044 

Operation of 3 network stations; 

aircraft and tracking ship support. 144 people, 347 aircraft-hours, 170 ship-days. 

3,321 4,720 8, 041 

Total Navy costs. 12,255 19,830 32,085

645 
 
Agency 

ARMY: 

White Sands Missile Range 

(WSMR) . 

U.S. 	 Army Europe 
 

(USAREUR). 
 

Other. 

Total Army costs. 

BIOASTRONAUTICS (Army, 

Navy, Air Force) : 

Operational. 

Research and development. 

Total bioastronautic costs. 

Air Force .... . . . ..... . . . ..... . 

Navy . . . .. ....... . ....... .. ... 

Army .. .. . . . . . ........ . . . . . . . 

Bioastronautics .. . . ... . . . . .. . . . 

Total. 

Type/level of support a 

Operate 2 network stations, 39 
 

people. 
 

Helicopter and pararescuemen 

support for contingency reCovery. 107 Helo-hours. 

LARC support, communications, test facilities, tracking-


ship support. 
 

2,300 730 3,030 

Aeromedical monitors, recovery 

medical specialists, medical 

supplies, hospitals. 159 people average per mission. 

Astronaut selection and training; laboratories. 
 

1,478 2,390 3,868 

..... .. . . . .. .. . . .......... .. . . 
 

. . ..... . . . ... .. ... . . ... . . . .. . . 
 

.. . ........ . .. . . . . . .... ...... . 
 

... .. ...... ... . .. .. ... ........ 
 

doas) 

NASA DOD 

reim­ absorbed Total 

bursed 

962 247 1,209 

117 78 

1,221 405 1, 626 

497 1,070 1,567 

981 1,320 2,301 

83,836 10,416 94, 252 

12,255 19, 830 32,085 

2,300 730 3,030 

1,478 2, 390 3,868 

99,869 33,366 133,235 

646 
 

195 
Appendix G: 


I~ . 

~ MUC ­ Muchea, Australia 

'l WOM ­ Woomera, Austral ia 

CTN ­ Canton Island 

HAW ­ Kauai Island, Hawaii 

CAL ­ Point Arguello, Cal. 

GYM ­ Guaymas, Mexico 

Project Mercury Tracking Net 


___.iii ... 4 - ~. 

~:.. 

.. 

.. .,~' .&:.. 

WHS ­ White Sands, N. Mex. 
 CYI ­ Grand Canary Island 

TEX ­ Corpus Christi, Tex. 
 KNO ­ Kano, Nigeria 

EGL ­ Eglin AFB, Fla. 
 ZZB ­ Zanz ibar 

CNV ­ Cape Canaveral, Fla. 
 CSQ ­ Coastal Sentry Quebec 

BDA ­ Bermuda 
 

ATS ­ Atlantic Ship 
 

:> 
 

I-C 

I-C 

Z 

~ 

tj 

~ 

~ 

Q 

" 
Ground Instrumentation Planjor Project Mercury ~ 

10{::::... [For 3-orbit missions] Co 

Station name 

Canaveral ....... .. .... 
 

Grand Bahama .. . . . .... 
 

Grand Turk ............ 
 

Bermuda ..... . ..... " . 
 

Atlantic ship . . . .. .. .... 
 

Grand Canary Island .... 
 

Kano, Nigeria . .... . 
 

Zanzibar .. . . . .. . 
 

Indian Ocean ship. 
 

Muchea, Australia . .. . .. 
 

Woomera, Australia .. . . . 
 

Canton Island ... 
 

Kauai Island, Hawaii . .. 
 

Point Arguello, Calif... . 
 

Guaymas, Mexico ....... 
 

White Sands, N. Mex ... 
 

Corpus Christi, Tex ..... 
 

Eglin, Fla ..... 
 

Goddard SFC ......... . 
 

Coverage, 

passes 

1,2,3 

1,2,3 

1,2,3 

1,2,3 

1,2,3 

1,2 

1,2 

1,2 

1,2,3 

1,2,3 

1,2 

1,2 

2,3 

2,3 

1,2,3 

1,2,3 

1,2,3 

1,2,3 

Communication 

(capsule) 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

X 

Acquisition 

Command 

control FA SA M 

X X (X) 

X 

X 

X X 

X 

X 

X 
 

X 
 

X 
 

X 
 X 
 

X 
 

X 
 

X 
 X 
 

X 
 X 
 

X 
 X 

X 

X 

X 

Ground communications 

Radar 

Telemetry 

S C reception 

(X) X X 

(X) X 

X 

X X X 

X 

X X 

X 

X 

X 

X X 

X X 

X 

X X X 
 

X 
 X 
 

X 
 

X 

X 

X 

X X 

(*) X 

Ground communications 

I Timing Voice TTY SSB 

radio 

X X X 

X X AMR 

X X AMR 

X X X 

X X X 

X X X 

X X X 

X X X 

X X X 

X X X 

X X X 

X X 

X X X 

X X X 

X X . ....... X 

X X X 

X X X 

X X X 

FA = Fully automatic. SA = Semiautomatic. 

M=Manual. SSB=Single side band. 

*MPQ-31. TTY=Telcmctry. 
Index 
 

A-4, 16, 17,519 fn 45 
 

A-7, 181,294 
 

A-9, 519 fn 45 
 

AASCS. See under Alternate Attitude Space­


craft Control System 
 

AASS. See under Automatic Abort Sensing 
 

System 
 

Abbott, Ira H. A., 81, 90, 114 
 

Abbot Committee, 99 
 

Abelson, Philip H., 491 
 

Ablating materials, 63,64,87, 126, 127,461 
 

Ablation (see also Heating, aerodynamic), 63­


66, 80, 93, 95, 127, 128, 139, 140, 157, 204, 
 

322,324,389,407 
 

Able (monkey) (see also Animals in space 
 

program), 156 
 

ABMA. See under U.S. Army Ballistic Missile 
 

Agency 
 

Abort, 92 
 

Abort Sensing and Implementation System 
 

(ASIS), 176, 188, 189,265,320,321,331,384 
 

Abort systems (see also under Spacecraft) , 338 
 

Acceleration stress (see also under Centri­


fuges), 36-46 passim, 80, 81, 96, 97, 120, 
 

143, 168, 204, 231, 253, 369, 378, 404, 405 
 

Air Force "ground rule," 97, 120 
 

Acceptance checkout equipment (ACE), 508 
 

ACS. See under Attitude control system 
 

Adam, Project, 100, 101,105,123,171,172,177, 
 

263, 537 fn 82 
 

Advanced Research Projects Agency (ARPA), 
 

7~ 82, 90-93, 97-10~ 10~ Ill, 11~ 11~ 12~ 

122, 126, 136, 148, 156, 265, 542 fn 49, 548 
 

fn 7 
 

Advisory Committee on Government Organization, 82,89 
 

Aerobee, 19,20,29,37- 40,49 
 

Aerobee-Hi,20 
 

Aerodynamic heating. See under Heating, 
 

aerodynamic 
 

Aerodynamic stresses, 60 
 

Aerojet-General Corp., 395 
 

Aeromedical Field Laboratory. See under 
 

U.S. Air Force 
 

Aeromedical Laboratory, Wright Air Develop­
 

ment Center. See under U.S. Air Force 
 

"Aeronauts," 160 
 

Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating 
 

Board,284 
 

Aeronutronic Division. See under Ford Motor 
 

Co. 
 

Aerospace Corp., 255, 272, 278, 299, 300, 491, 
 

539 fn 18, 585 fn 6, 588 fn 41, 591 fn 18 
 

Aerospace Medical Laboratory, Wright Air 

Development Center. See under U.S. Air 

Force 
 

Aerospace medicine (see also U.S. Air Force: 
 

Aeromedical Field Laboratory, Air Force 

School of Aviation Medicine, Wright Air 

Development Center: Aeromedical Labora­
 

tory, Aerospace Medical Laboratory; U.S. 

Navy: Aviation Medical Acceleration Lab­
 

oratory, Naval School of Aviation Medi­


cine), 34, 41, 524 fn 4 
 

accelera tion stress, 37-43 passim, 46, 315, 
 

316,369,378,447 
 

aeroembolism, 351 
 

aeropause concept, 34, 116 
 

anoxia, 35 
 

"bends," 231, 351 
 

bioinstrumentation, 416 
 

blackout, 39, 40, 46 
 

bladder function, 38, 39 
 

blood pressure, 39,416,434,484,496 
 

coordination loss, 39 
 

dehydration, 433 
 

disorientation, 37, 38,39,357,414,443,478 
 

dysbarism, 228, 231 
 

eating and drinking in Right, 38, 39, 449, 478, 
 

500 
 

exercise in flight, 480 
 

fatigue, 484 
 

hyperven tilation, 228 
 

hypoxia, 228, 231 
 

impact forces, 40 
 

isolation studies, 48 
 

medical monitoring, 80, 216, 449, 469 
 

medication in flight, 418 
 

noise, 231 
 

nausea, 39, 378,414, 427,433 
 

oculo-agravic illusion, 38 
 

orthostatic hypotension, 501, 508 
 

postflight examinations, 484 
 

reaction to space flight, 39,427 
 

redout, 39, 40 
 

research rockets, 19, 29 
 

temperature, 47, 433, 434, 449, 496 
 

timed urine collection, 433 
 

vibration, 231, 447 
 

water immersion research, 42,43 
 

weightlessness, 36-42 passim, 52, 315, 316, 
 

414,448,478 
 

Africa, 220, 331,335,339,399, 426,435,445, 474, 
 

480,495,497 
 

African, 499 
 

Agena, 79, 462 
 

649 
 
C-54, 586 fn 16 
 

CF -105 Arrow, 153 
 

C-119, 279, 280 
 

C-130,128,469 
 

C-131, 39, 239, 243 illus 
 

D-558--II, 11, 12 illus, 517 fn 28 
 

Electra, 573 fn 17 
 

F4H-l Phantom, 190 
 

F-89,38 
 

F-94C,38 
 

F-I00, 239, 518 fn 30 
 

F-I00F, 243 illus, 358 
 

F-I04, 198 
 

F-106,352 
 

Hypersonic, 166 
 

Langley Aerodrome, 56,515 fn 5 
 

P2V, 203, 297, 312, 316, 456 
 

P5M,406 
 

Ramjet, 21. 86 
 

SA-16, 346, 456, 457 
 

Supersonic, 57,114 
 

T-33,38 
 

Wright Flyer, 6 
 

X-I, 11,35,517 fn 27,567 fn 38 
 

X-lA, 11, 12 illus, 35, 58 
 

X-IB, 87, 529 fn 10 
 

X2, 36, 57, 58,63,87,529 fn 10 
 

X-3. 12 illus 
 

X-IS, 11, 12 illus, 36, 40, 57, 58, 59, 63, 66, 
 

69, 71, 78, 87, 89, 94, 101, 150, 348 
 

XB-70,121 
 

XF -92A, 12 illus 
 

XF-I08, 121 
 

Air Crew Equipment Laboratory (USN). See 
 

under U.S. Navy 
 

Air Force. See under U.S. Air Force 
 

Air Force Ballistic Missile Division. See 
 

under U.S. Air Force 
 

Air Force Missile Test Center. See under 
 

U.S. Air Force 

Air Force School of Aviation Medicine. See 

under U.S. Air Force 

Air Force Scientific Advisory Board. See 

under U.S. Air Force 

Air Force Space Systems Division. See under 

U.S. Air Force 
 

Air Force Surgeon General. See under U.S. 
 

Air Force 
 

Air Materiel Command. See under U.S. Air 
 

Force 
 

Air Rescue Service. See under U.S. Air Force 
 

Air Research and Development Command 
 

(ARDC). See under U.S. Air Force 
 

AiResearch Manufacturing Co., 157, 225, 226, 
 

227, 228, 235, 241, 260, 484, 557 fn 8, 568 
 

fn 46 
 

Airglow, 415, 450, 476, 480, 499, 	595 fn 70, 596 
 

fn 90 
 

650 
 

Algol (see also under Motors) , 395 
 

Algranti, Joseph S., 244, 607 
 

Allaback, Wilbur, 607 
 

Allegheny Ballistic Laboratories, 395 
 

Allen, H. Julian, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 65, 66, 68, 
 

69, 72,87, 142, 176 illus, 530 fn 17,20; 607 
 

Altair (see also under Motors), 395 
 

Alternate Attitude Spacecraft Control System 

(AASCS),196 
 

Altitude chambers, 343, 365, 416 
 

American Association for the Advancement of 

Science, 491 
 

American Astronautical Society, 326 
 

American Bosch Arma Corp., 522 fn 75 
 

American Meteorite Museum, 61 
 

American Rocket Society, 14.68, 70, 77, 194 
 

American Society for Quality Control, 266 
 

American Telephone and Telegraph Co., 217 
 

Ames Aeronautical Laboratory (see also under 
 

Ames Research Center)' 56, 57, 58,59,61, 

65, 66, 71, 81, 83, 84, 85, 86, 89, 94, 95, 
 

102, 106, 113 
 

becomes Ames Research Center, 142 
 

opens, 9, 57, 59 
 

research, 56, 59,60,66 
 

ballistic ranges, 63, 65, 83 
 

High Speed Research Division, 59 
 

Round Three Conference, 71, 72, 78 
 

Vehicle Environment Division, 95 
 

wind tunnels, 58, 65, 83, 94 
 

supersonic free-flight, 58, 59, 60 illus, 63 

Ames, Charles S., 118, 320 
 

Ames, Joseph S., 9 
 

Ames, M. B., Jr., 529 fn 6 
 

Ames Research Center (see also under Ames 

Aeronautical Laboratory), 142, 157, 167, 

218, 287, 308, 364, 390 
 

becomes Ames Research Center, 142 
 

Amman, Ernest A., 345, 492, 592 fn 30 
 

Anderson, Clinton B., 437 illus 
 

Anderson, Frank W., xiv 
 

Anderson, Orvil A., 47 
 

Anderson, Samuel E., 92, 97 
 

Andros Island, 355 
 

Anfuso, Victor L., 332, 588 fn 35 
 

Animals in space program (see also under 

names 0/ each), 19, 37, 38, 40, 42, 49, 50, 

53 
 

chimpanzees, 40, 42, 210, 306, 310-318, 331, 

335,397-409 
 

dogs, 28, 33, 37, 303, 325, 330 
 

hamsters, 34, 50 
 

mice,34,37,42,43,50,53 
 

monkeys, 19,33,37, 50, 53, 156,210,212,213 

pigs, 143 
 

rabbits, 43,50 
 

rats, 42, 50 
 

Antarctica Treaty, 214, 285 
 
Apollo, Project, 254, 279, 283, 362, 364, 379, 
 

392, 436, 444, 487, 489, 492, 503, 505, 507, 
 

509, 510, 510 illus, 566 fn 30, 598 fn lll, 
 

600 fn 39 
 

budget, 335,362,438 
 

project office established, 363 
 

Applied Materials and Physics Division. See 
 

under Langley Research Center 
 

Applied Physics Laboratory. 19 
 

Appropriations. See under National Advisory 
 

Committee for Aeronautics, National Aero· 
 

nautics and Space Administration 
 

Arabian, Donald D., 246, 388 illus 
 

Aral Sea, 334 
 

Arbic, Richard G., 273, 275 
 

Archibald, David R., 491, 563 fn 83 
 

ARDC. See under U.S. Air Force, Air Research and Development Command 
 

Area rule, 86 
 

"Argonauts," 160 
 

Ariell,467 

Aristotle, 225 
 

Arkansas, 349 
 

Arlington, Va., 421 
 

Armitage, Peter J., 287, 318, 349 
 

Armstrong, Harry G., 34 
 

Armstrong, G. L., 307 
 

Armstrong, Neil A. , 601 fn 50 
 

Armstrong, Steven A., 543 fn 13, 607 
 

Army. See under U.S. Army 
 

Army Air Corps. See under U.S. Army 
 

Army Air Forces. See under U.S. Army 
 

Army Ballistic Missile Agency. See under U.S. 
 

Army 
 

Army Corps of Engineers. See under U.S. 
 

Army 
 

Army Medical Service. See under U.S. Army 
 

Army Ordnance Department. See under U.S. 
 

Army 
 

Army Ordnance Missile Command, 123, 136 
 

Army Signal Corps. See under U.S. Army 
 

Arneson, Leif, 194 
 

Arnold, Henry H., 18, 517 fn 24 
 

Arnold Engineering Development Center. See 
 

under U.S. Air Force 
 

ARPA. See under Advanced Research Proj­


ects Agency 
 

Ascension Island, 126 
 

ASCS (see also under Attitude Stabilization 
 

and Control System or Automatic Stabiliza­
 

tion and Control System), 195, 196, 234, 
 

584 fn 55, 586 fn 15 
 

"ASIS," 176, 187, 188, 259, 291, 571 fn 80, 585 
 

fn 6, 588 fn 41 
 

Associated Press, 281, 332, 334 
 

Astronaut (see also under names 0/ each), xi, 
 

46, 48, 49, 52, 160, 163, 164, 165, 172, 177, 
 

191, 193, 196, 197, 227, 228, 230, 231, 234, 
 

first seven, 492, 503 
 

flight preparation, 365, 422, 423 
 

"personal story" rights. 237 
 

pilots vs. passengers, 80, 81, 174, 177 
 

physiological reactions to space flight, 358, 
 

359,370,413,414,427 
 

qualifications, 162 
 

second contingent, 492 
 

selection, 161, 162, 163 
 

task in space flight, 415, 418, 443, 459 
 

training, 190, 193, 232, 235, 239, 240, 241, 

265,343,345,346,371,416 
 

trainers and simulators, 242-243 illus, 

415, 422 
 

Astronaut's Handbook, 245, 246 
 

Astronomy Subcommittee Space Sciences Steering Committee (NASA), 414, 418 
 

Atcheson, Kenneth L., 607 
 

Atlantic Fleet, 446 
 

Atlantic Missile Range, 126, 154, 155, 159, 199, 
 

200, 215, 216, 345, 391, 401, 409, 567 fn 38, 
 

577 fn 57 
 

central control, 253 
 

Atlantic Monthly, 3 
 

Atlantic Ocean, 99, 316, 330, 335, 376, 382, 386, 
 

389, 399, 426, 430, 432, 454, 457, 495 
 

Atlantic Ocean ship (tracking), 401, 405, 446 
 

Atlas (Greek god), 132, 165 
 

Atlas (see also under Missiles and Boosters), 
 

21, 22, 23, 25, 26, 27, 30, 31, 43, 60, 61, 62, 
 

63, 64, 70. 72, 73, 78, 79, 81, 90, 91. 92, 93, 
 

96, 97, 102, 106, 1I7, 1I8, 120, 122, 123, 125, 
 

126, 139, 141, 146, 151, 155, 157, 159, 172, 
 

174, 175, 176, 179, 180, 183, 184, 185, 187, 
 

188, 189, 199,200-204, 207- 208, 216, 220, 
 

224,237,241,248,264,265,272,273,274,275, 

276, 279, 283, 285, 286, 289, 291-293, 299, 
 

300, 305, 306, 307, 308, 321, 326, 331, 337, 
 

338, 377, 381-384, 389, 399, 400, 404, 413, 
 

522 fn 75, 571 fn 80 
 

Atlas A, 26, 523 fn 94 
 

Atlas-Able, 279, 299, 307 
 

Atlas B, 26, 200 
 

Atlas C, 26, 123,200 
 

Atlas D, 26, 123, 188,200 
 

Atlas F, 489 
 

Atlas 8-C, 200 
 

Atlas 10-B, 126 
 

Atlas 10-D, 199,200,201-202,207 
 

Atlas 12-D, 199,207 
 

Atlas 50-D, 259,273, 275, 276 
 

Atlas 67-D, 307, 320, 321 
 

Atlas 88-D, 382, 383, 585 fn 4 
 

Atlas 93-D, 398,399,402 
 

Atlas 100-0,335,337 
 

Atlas 107-D, 420,446-448,469 
 

Atlas 109-D, 399, 408, 413, 422, 423, 426, 427 
 

Atlas 113-D (see also under Boosters and 
 

Mercury, Project (MA-8), 461-473 
 

651 
 
Atomic Energy Commission, 22, 65, 83, 99, 120, 
 

467,511 
 

compared with space agencies, 83 
 

first thermonuclear explosion, 22 
 

Attitude Control System (ACS), 195, 201, 204, 
 

262, 300, 343, 353, 359, 405, 413, 419, 553 
 

fn 72 
 

Attitude controls (see also under Spacecraft), 
 

87,105,111 
 

Attitude Stabilization and Control System 
 

(ASCS), 157,311,422,429,596 fn 93 
 

Auburn University, 538 fn 10 
 

Augerson, William S., 120, 160, 161, 227, 230, 
 

314,316,441 
 

Aurora 7 (see also under Spacecraft and Mer­


cury-Atlas 7), 443, 445-460, 451 illus, 465 
 

499, 595 fn 80 ' 
 

Australia, 399,402,428,430,479 
 

Automat~c Abort-Sensing System (AASS), 184 
 

AutomatIc Control System (see also under 
 

Spacecraft), 194 
 

Automatic Stabilization and Control System 
 

(ASCS), 195,234,246,288,382,405,453,463, 
 

474,478,479,499,500 
 

Avco Manufacturing Corp., 63, 70, 73, 78, 91, 
 

92, 96, 100, 102, 118, 121, 537 fn 84 569 
 

fn 56 ' 
 

minimum space vehicle (with Convair) 91
 92 ' , 
 

manned satellite design, 72 
 

"Minimum Manned Satellite" study, 72, 78 
 

Avro, 153 
 

Aviation Medical Acceleration Laboratory. 
 

(See under U.S. Navy) 
 

Aviation Week, 306 
 

Azusa, 203 
 

B-29, 10,11 

B-52, 12 illus 
 

B-70,177 
 

Back River, 418 
 

Backer, Paul, 468 illus 

Bahama Islands, 80, 355 
 

Baikonur, U.s.S.R., 334 
 

Bailey, F. John, Jr., 271, 289, 566 fn 21 607 
 

Bailey, Glenn F., 251, 607 ' 
 

Bailey, James, 194 
 

Baja California, 478 
 

Baker (monkey) , 156 
 

Baker, L. L., 257 
 

Baldwin, Hanson W., 281 
 

Ballinger, E. R., 41, 42 
 

Balloons,S, 34, 50, 51, 100, 117, 128, 141 151 
 

152 ' , 
 

Excelsior project, 240 
 

Explorer II, 47 
 

Manhigh project, 51, 100, 128 
 

Baltimore, Md., 19,69,44,6 
 

Banana River, 371 
 

Barcelona, Spain, 281 
 

Barcelona Geophysical Year Conference, 29 
 

"Bare" Atlas, 81, 91, 92. 96, 97, 118, 120, 176 

Barnes Instrument Co., 157 
 

Barr, James, 282 
 

Barton. John R., 225, 226, 227, 237 
 

B:iss, Perkins, 438 illus 
 

Bassett. Preston R., 84 
 

Batdorf, Samuel B., 93, 106, 122 
 

Bathysphere, 47 
 

Baton Rouge, La., 587 fn 20 
 

Battelle Memorial Institute, 288 
 

Battey, Robert Y., 607 
 

Baxter, J ames Phinney, 18 
 

Beach, Edward L.. 556 fn 1 
 

Beaumont, Tex., 587 In 20 
 

Becker, John V., 81, 89, 90 
 

Becker, John W., 214 
 

BECO. See under Booster engine cutoff 
 

Beddingfield. Samuel T., 388 illus 
 

Beeding, Eli L.. 40. 42 
 

Beeson. Paul, 578 In 81 
 

Beil, W. John, 578 In 81 
 

Beldervack, G. T., 316 
 

Belka (dog), 264, 280 
 

BeLieu, Kenneth, 572 fn 7 
 

Bell Aerospace Corp., 157 
 

Bell Aerosystems, 201, 271 
 

Bell Aircraft Corp., 11, 56, 57, 121, 521 fn 67

531 In 43, 568 fn 46 
 

Bell,Alphonzo, 438 illus 
 

Bell, David E., 433 
 

Bell Telephone Laboratories, Inc., 82, 174, 217 

"Belly band," 300, 307, 308, 318, 319 illus, 573 

In IS 
 

Beltsville, Md., 115, 116, 143, 153, 251, 303 364 

Bendix Corp., 217, 254 ' 
 

Berkeley, Calif., 587 fn 20 
 

Berkner, Lloyd Y., vi, 325 
 

Berlin, Germany, 18 
 

Bermuda, 216, 217, 220, 322, 335, 337, 384, 386

389, 401, 402, 408, 415, 419, 426, 493, 494 
 

Berry, Charles A., 48, 474, 607 
 

Bertram, Emil P., 171, 296, 310, 318 
 

Bethesda, Md., 232, 244 
 

Bethpage, N.Y., 414 
 

Bibby, Cecilia, 592 fn 22, 595 fn 78 
 

Big Dipper, 452 
 

Big Joe, 125, 126, 140, 145, 155, 157, 185, 195, 

199, 200-201, 203, 204, 205, 206, 208 224 

235, 240, 248, 250, 259, 260, 272 273' 300

311, 322, 383 ' 

Big Joe II, 201,206 
 

Big Joe project, 125, 126, 127, 128, 139, 544 fn 

25, 553 fns 72, 73, 78, 79 
 

Billingham, John, 607 
 

Bingman, Charles F., 607 
 

652 
334, 429, 440, 487, 489, 537 £n 94, 541 fn 37, 
 

577 £n 71, 587 £n 28, 607 
 

Bleriot, Louis, 6 
 

Blockhouse, 321, 418, 423, 493, 575 £n 36, 583 
 

£n 46 
 

Bloemfontein, South Africa, 496 
 

Blunt reentry body concept, 61, 62, 63, 65, 72, 
 

89, 142, 530 fns 20, 21 
 

BMD. See under U.S. Air Force, Air Force 
 

Ballistic Missile Division 
 

Bobik, Joseph, 273 
 

Boeing Co., 121, 237, 533 fn 61 
 

Bogalusa, La., 587 fn 20 
 

Boggess, Albert III, 466 
 

Bomarc, 153 
 

Bond, Aleck c., 115, 121, 126, 128, 139, 201, 
 

204, 206, 207 illus, 260, 275, 543 fn 20, 545 fn 
 

51,553 fns 75, 81; 607 
 

Bonney, Walter T., 160, 238, 547 fn 71,559 fns 
 

32,34 
 

Booster 
 

Aerobee·Hi, 20 
 

Atlas, 30, 31, 43, 81, 93, 96, 97, 102, 106, 118, 
 

125, 126, 139, 141, 151, 159, 305- 310 
 

passim, 318, 320, 326, 331, 338, 572 fn 8, 
 

573 fn 17 
 

abort systems, 337-338 
 

airframe principle, 188 
 

"Bare Atlas," 81, 91, 92, 96, 97, 118, 120, 
 

536 fn 69 
 

Big Joe project, 125, 126, 127,311 
 

description, 188 
 

first successful flight, 72, 126 
 

guidance and flight control, 106,426 
 

radio-inertial systems, 26 
 

propulsion systems, 126 
 

turbopumps, 467 
 

rejected by Air Force planners, 81 
 

spacecraft adapters, 378 
 

"thick sk:in" version, 308, 335 
 

Atlas B, 200 
 

Atlas C, 200 
 

Atlas D, 200 
 

Atlas-l17 L, 79, 97 
 

Big Joe, 125,139,200,317,322 
 

J uno I, 129, 155 
 

Juno II, 155 
 

Jupiter, ]25, 141, 151, 155,156,323 
 

Jupiter C, 29, 30, 31,135,155 
 

ablation test, 29, 200 
 

Little Joe, 105, 124, 151, 310, 324, 326, 327, 
 

328, 331, 337, 338 
 

Redstone, 99, 124,·125, 139, 141, 151, 159, 
 

310, 311, 312, 313, 315, 320, 329, 365, 
 

368-371, 377 
 

development, 310, 323, 324, 328, 330, 331 
 

telemetry, 313 
 

Super Titan, 91 
 

Thor, 43, 53, 81 
 

Thor-l17 L, 91, 92 
 

Thor-Able, 42, 53, 248 
 

Thor-Agena, 279 
 

Thor-Delta, 280 
 

Thor-fluorine, 91, 92, 536 fn 69 
 

Thor-Vanguard,91 
 

Vanguard, 30 iJlus, 155 
 

Vega, 155 
 

Booster engine cutoff (BECO), 384 
 

Booster gap, 385 
 

Borman, Frank, 601 fn 50 
 

Borum, Rodney, 592 fn 33 
 

Bossart, Karel J., 22, 118 
 

Bost, James E., 487, 607 
 

Boston, Mass., 587 fn 20 
 

Bostwick, Guy W., Jr., 251 
 

Bothmer, Clyde V., 607 
 

Boulder, Colo., 446, 459 
 

Boushey, Homer A., 73, 96,174,537 fn 84 
 

Boyer, William J., 607 
 

Boynton, John H., 607 
 

Brady, C. A., 257 
 

Brand, David, 493 illus 
 

Brandner, Fred W., 172, 173, 174, 184 
 

Braunwall, Eugene, 441, 442 
 

Bredt, Irene, 519 fn 45, 531 fn 36 
 

Brewer, Gerald W., 184 
 

"The Brick Moon," 3 
 

Bridges, Styles, 98 
 

Briggs, Thomas, 607 
 

Brisbane, Australia, 475 
 

British Honduras, 86 
 

Broadway, New York City, 502 illus 
 

Brooks Air Force Base, Tex., 212 
 

Brooks, Overton, 281,309,325,326 
 

Brown, B. Porter, 154, 155, 201-202, 204, 275, 

546 fn 59, 553 In 75, 607 
 

Brown, Clarence T., 123 
 

Brown, Clinton E., 57 
 

Brown, Edward L., 38 
 

Brown, Steve, 142 
 

Brucker, Wilber M., 100 
 

Brundin, Robert H., 175,278,321 
 

Brush Beryllium Co., 139, 140 
 

Buchheim, R. W., 540 fn 29 
 

"Buck Rogers," 34, 55, 116 
 

Buckingham, Edgar, 9 
 

Buckley, Edmond c., 219,556 In 112 
 

Buenos Aires, Argentina, 39 
 

Buettner, Konrad, 34 
 

Buglia, James J., 87, 89,95 
 

Buhmann, Eugene J., 257 
 

Buist, M. J., 220 
 

Bulganin, Nikolai, 82 
 

Buller, Elmer H., 155, 539 fn 16 
 

653 
 
Bureau of Weapons. See under U.S. Navy 
 

Burke, Walter F., 257, 260, 269, 275, 296, 299, 
 

319 illus, 562 fn 77, 607 
 

Burns and Roe, 217 
 

Burroughs Corp., 203, 426,522 fn 75 
 

Busch, A. M., 539 fn 16 
 

Bush, Vannevar, 8, 9, 19 
 

Butler, Earl M., 172, 181,296,607 
 

Butler, Sherwood 1., 146,249 
 

Bykovsky, Valery F., 506 
 

Byrd, Sigman, xiv 
 

Byrnes, Martin A., Jr., 170, 252, 347, 359, 364, 
 

375,392,607 
 

C-119, 279, 280 
 

C-130, 128,469 
 

C-131, 39, 239, 243 illus 
 

Cabin, space, 47,52,93,370 
 

California, 58, 65, 70, 85, 113, 199,237,279,280, 
 

307, 320, 384, 393, 406, 431, 477, 479, 500 
 

California Institute of Technology (CaITech), 
 

9, 14, 16, 55, 517 fn 24, 529 fn 16, 530 fn 24, 
 

538 fn 9 
 

Guggenheim Aeronautical Laboratory, 14, 16, 
 

59 
 

Rocket Research Project, 14,16,55 
 

Jet Propulsion Laboratory, 16, 19,27,29,99, 
 

530 fn 24 
 

origin, 16 
 

NASA acquires services, 99 
 

Callanan, R. J., 607 
 

Cameras, launch coverage (see also under 
 

Spacecraft), 273, 274 
 

Cambridge Research Center. See under U.S. 
 

Air Force 
 

Campagna, 1. Edward, 607 
 

Camp David, Md., 213, 214, 264 
 

Campbell, Pa ul A., 178 
 

Canada, 42, 232, 527 fn 49 
 

Canary Islands, 337, 381, 401, 405, 427,430,448, 
 

472,474,478,495 
 

Canaveral. See under Cape Canaveral 
 

Canning, Thomas N., 95, 530 fn 16, 531 fn 32 
 

536 fn 66 ' 
 

Canter, Louis, xv, 607 
 

Canton Island, 401, 405, 428, 449, 478, 495, 
 

499 
 

Cape Canaveral, 19, 21, 27, 29, 66, 199, 200, 
 

20~ 215, 21~ 220, 235, 241, 25R 26~ 268, 
 

26~ 273, 276, 283, 296, 297, 29~ 310, 330, 
 

331, 339, 341. 343, 345, 347, 350, 369, 371, 
 

381, 382, 389, 391, 399, 401, 404-409, 
 

419, 426, 444, 446, 454, 455, 458, 459, 461, 
 

495, 499, 500. 503, 507, 509, 510 il1us, 520 
 

fn 55, 523 fn 94, 533 fn 16, 575 fn 37, 
 

582 fn 35, 583 fn 41, 586 fn 15 
 

Army Missile Firing Laboratory, 252 
 

Capsule. See under Spacecraft 
 

Capsule communications, 495 
 

Capsule Coordination Committee, 170 
 

"Capsule simulator," 94 
 

Cardfile 23, 346, 357, 360 
 

Carla (hurricane), 386 
 

Carley, Richard R., 196,552 fn 60,607 
 

Carnegie Institution of Washington, 8 
 

Carpenter, M. Scott (see also under Astronaut), 160, 164, 164 ill us, 173 illus, 235, 
 

237, 240, 245, 402, 407, 416, 416 illus, 418, 
 

423, 440, 443-460 passim, 451 illus, 458 illus, 
 

465-466, 469, 473, 475-477, 484, 495, 496, 
 

499, 552 fn 54, 582 fn 27, 583 fn 46, 586 
 

fn 15, 595 fns 70, 80, 596 fns 81, 82, 86, 87, 
 

90, 91, 93, 597 fns 98, 103, 109, 599 fn 27, 
 

~07 

Carpenter, Rene, 446, 458 illus 
 

Carville, La., 86 
 

Case Institute of Technology, vi, 98, 178, 179, 
 

549 fn 21 
 

Casey, R. H., Jr., 580 fn 8 
 

Cassiopeia, 478 
 

Castor, 125, 326, 338, 395 
 

Castro, Fidel, 486 
 

Cate, James L., vi 
 

Catterson, A. Duane, 557 fn 6, 581 fn 15, 607 
 

Cband radars, 469, 493 
 

Centaur, 507 
 

Center of gravity, 205 
 

Central Intelligence Agency, 100 
 

Centrifuge, 36, 40, 41, 42, 43, 46, 80, 96, 120, 
 

231,288.331,371,400 
 

Aviation Medical Acceleration Laboratory, 
 

41, 42, 43, 46, 80, 96, 120, 235, 241, 242 
 

illus, 441, 442, 526 fns 32, 39 
 

Aeromedical Laboratory, Wright-Patterson 
 

Air Force Base, 41, 80, 241 
 

"Iron maiden capsule," 43, 46 
 

Nylon netting research, 43 
 

Pensacola Naval Air Station, 241 
 

Water immersion research, 43 
 

Wright Air Development Center, 43, 526 
 

fns 32, 36 
 

CF-I05 Arrow, 153 
 

Challenger Deep, 556 fn 1 
 

Chamberlin, James A., 153, 169, 170, 190, 199, 
 

251, 257, 260, 276, 300, 307, 317 illus, 393, 
 

394, 440, 551 fn 49, 563 fn 78, 607 
 

Chambers, Thomas V., 195, 237, 552 fn 60, 607 
 

Champine, Robert A., 43,94,148 
 

Chance-Vought Corp., 121 
 

Astronautics Division, 226 
 

Charleston, S. c., 312 
 

Charlotte, N. c., 334 
 

Chauvin, Leo T., 338, 607 
 

Cheatham, Donald c., 275, 312 
 

654 
Chesapeake Bay, 85, 105 
 

Chew, John L., 420, 457, 583 fn 49, 586 fn 16, 
 

587 fn 19, 597 fn 106 
 

Chicago, Ill., 47 
 

"Chicken switch," 473 
 

Chilton, Robert G., 116, 195, 196, 197, 237, 552 
 

fn 60,607 

Chimpanzees (see also under names 0/ each), 
 

40, 42, 177, 210, 292, 306, 310-318 passim, 
 

331, 335, 346, 381, 390, 393, 397, 399-408 
 

passim 
 

Chinese, 13 
 

Chop, Albert M., xv, 607 
 

Christman, H. T., 398 
 

Chrysler Corp., 21, 123, 255, 257 
 

Chute. See under Parachute 
 

Cincinnati Testing and Research Laboratory 
 

(CTL) , 139, 140 
 

Civil Aeronautics Board, 268 
 

Civilian· Military Liaison Committee (CMLC), 
 

98, 135 
 

Clamann, Hans-Georg, 34, 524 fn 5, 526 fn 44 
 

Clark, David, Co., 228 
 

Clark, J. E., 375 
 

Clark University, 14 
 

Clarke, Arthur c., 281 
 

Clarke, Stuart H., 440 
 

Clauser, Milton V., 578 fn 81 
 

Clear Lake, Tex., 390, 391 
 

Clements, Henry E., 297, 575 fn 37, 607 
 

Cleveland, 0., 9, 39, 66, 98, 99, 113, 125, J39, 
 

140, 201, 244, 245 
 

Clifton, Robert G., 489 
 

Clocks (see also under Spacecraft), 265 
 

Coastal Sentry Quebec, 595 fn 74 
 

Cobra, 520 fn 52 
 

Cocoa Beach, Fla., 204, 334, 420, 421, SOl 
 

Code Sportif, 281 
 

Cohen, Jack, 184, 546 fn 56 
 

Cohn, Stanley H., 184 
 

Colchagoff, George D., 70, 531 fn 42, 533 fn 
 

13, 536 fn 75, 537 fn 89, 607 
 

Coler, Charles J., 607 
 

Colley, Russell M., 230, 231 
 

Collins, Carter c., 43, 46, 96, 120, 148,526 fn 39 
 

Collins Radio Co., 157, 197,260,568 fn 46 
 

Colorado, 332 
 

Columbus, 0., 288 
 

Committee on Aerodynamics. See under 
 

National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics 
 

Committee on Scientific Tasks and Training 
 

for Man-in-Space, Ad Hoc (MSC), 443 
 

Committee on Scientific Tasks and Training 
 

for Man-in-Space, Ad Hoc (NASA), 466, 489 
 

Communications (see also under Spacecraft), 
 

65, 102, lll, 168 
 

Compressibility Research Division. See under 
 

Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory 
 

, , , , , , , , , , , , 

98, 101, 102, 109, 134, 154, 168, 178, 224, 261·, 

279,285,304,320, 325,335,349,362-363,364, 

377, 378, 390, 437 illus, 438, 460, 501, 502 

illus, 507, 582 fn 35, 583 fn 40, 600 fn 39 

Conrad, Charles, J r., 601 fn 50 
 

Consolidated Vultec Aircraft Corp., 22 
 

designs Atlas, 22 
 

Control and stabilization (see also under Space­


craft), 56,57, 58, 59 
 

Control Center. See under Mercury Control 

Center 
 

Control systems (see also under Spacecraft), 

66 
 

Convair/Astronautics Division (CV/A) (see 

also under General Dynamics Corp.), 22, 

23, 25, 26, 60, 61, 73, 90, 91, 92, 93, 100, 

118, 121, 123, 126, 157, 159, 175, 180, 187, 

18~ 18~ 20~ 208, 235, 23~ 241, 25~ 25~ 

272, 276, 278, 299, 300, 307, 318, 321, 383, 

402, 408, 446, 467, 521 fn 67, 551 fn 45, 

563 fn 83 
 

Atlas reentry problem, 60, 61, 259 
 

awarded ICBM contract, 23 
 

develops pressurized airframe, 25 
 

Minimum Space Vehicle (with Avco), 91, 92 

preferred "Atlas-Mercury." 272 
 

Cook, James, 400 
 

Cooper, L. Gordon, Jr. (see also under Astro­


naut), 160, 164, 164 illus, 173 illus, 229 illus, 

235, 236 illus, 237, 289, 345, 351, 377, 402, 

406, 414, 428, 460, 485 illus, 489-503 passim, 

498 illus, 502 illus, 508, 583 fn 46, 586 fn 15 

Cooper, Trudy, 502 illus 
 

Copernican theory, 511 
 

Copernicus, Nicolaus,S 
 

Corcoran, Donald M., 565 fn 19 
 

Cornen University, vi, 538 fn 9 
 

Corning Glass Works, 367 
 

Corning, N.Y., 367 
 

Corpas, Louis L., 244 
 

Corpus Christi, Tex., 217, 386, 401, 432, 587 

fn 20 
 

Cosmic radiation, 49, 50, 51, 52 
 

Cosmic rays, 49, 50, 51, 52, 128, 168 
 

Cosmic Ship No.1, 300 
 

Cosmic Ship No. 4 (Korabl Sputnik IV), 325 

Cosmic Ship No. 5 (KoraM Sputnik V), 331 

Cosmic Ship No.6 (Karabl Sputnik VI). See 

Vostok I 
 

Cosmonaut (see also under name 0/ each), 333 

Coston, Charles L., 607 
 

Costs of space programs, 77 
 

Couch (see also under Spacecra/t) , 42, 43, 46, 

80, 96, 97, 143, 273, 288, 348, 351, 359, 367, 

370,526 fn 39 
 

Covinsky, N. E., 269 
 

655 
 
Crosby, Minn., 51 
 

Crossfield, A. Scott, 11,37, 170,594 fn 49 
 

Crowley, John W., Jr., 114, 117, 529 fn 6 
 

CTL. See under Cincinnati Testing and Re­


search Laboratory 
 

Cuba, 370, 478, 486 
 

Culbertson, Philip E., 175, 189, 259, 276, 278_ 
 

320, 491, 549 fn 16 
 

Curran, Scott, 119 
 

Curtiss, Glen H., 515 fn 5 
 

CV/ A. See under Convair/Astronautics Divi­


sion 

D-558--II, 11, 12 illus, 517 fn 28 
 

Daingerfield, Tex., 554 fn 82 
 

Daisy (storm), 471 
 

Daisy track, 40, 525 fn 27 
 

Dallas, Tex., 334, 500 
 

Davidson, William E., 181 
 

Davis, Leighton 1.,276, 437 illus, 469, 510 illus, 
 

584 fn 56 
 

Day, Richard E., 607 
 

Dayton, 0., 5, 6, 34, 38, 78, 161, 162 
 

Debbie (hurricane), 386, 586 fns 12, 16 
 

DeBey, Gerald, 556 fn 112 
 

Debus, Kurt H., 155, 157, 171, 252, 253, 268, 
 

289, 296, 310, 313, 318, 319 illus, 323, 324, 
 

330, 369, 510 illus 
 

Deceleration, 36, 37, 39, 40, 41, 42, 46, 68, 69, 
 

72,89,96,148,204,311,369 
 

de Chardin, Teilhard, 165 
 

Decompression, 46, 47, 49 
 

Dedderer, Douglas, 567 fn 35 
 

Defense Department. See under Department of 
 

Defense 
 

D~France, Smith J., 57, 59, 176 illus, 529 f ns 9, 
 

13 
 

Delaware, 349 
 

Dembling, Paul, 84 illus, 438 illus, 533 fn 4,534 
 

fn 28, 607 
 

Dempsey, James R., 551 fn 45,575 fn 16 
 

Denver, Colo., 334, 458 illus, 459 
 

Department of the Air Force. 28 
 

Department of Defense (DOD), 10, 27, 29, 60, 
 

65, 76, 77, 79, 82, 90, 91, 92, 93, 97, 98, 
 

99, 100, 101, 102, 106, UO, Ul, U6, U7, 
 

120, 122, 129, 135, 136, 154, 155, 159, 170, 
 

21~ 216, 237, 23~ 24~ 27~ 28~ 30~ 307, 
 

349, 383, 384, 386, 401, 438, 469, 489, 492, 
 

508, 521 fn 69, 523 fn 92, 532 fn 61 
 

Direc.tor of Guided Missiles, 73, 77, 79 
 

Man-m-Space Panel, 100 
 

Man·in-Space Soonest, 92, 98, 99, 101 
 

Man.Very·High project, 99 
 

Manned Satellite Panel (with NASA) llO 
 

UI. 120, 122, 129 ' , 
 

established, 93, 106 
 

120 
 

Department of Space Medicine, Air Force 

School of Aviation Medicine, 34, 38 
 

Department of State, 217, 309 
 

Department of War, 5 
 

Destroyer Flotilla Four, 203, 253, 355, 381, 586 
 

fn 16 
 

Detroit, Mich., 257 
 

Development Engineering Inspection (DEI), 
 

• 	 270, 272 
 

Development Operations Division, ABMA, 181, 
 

187 
 

De Vore, F. Phoncille, 607 
 

Dietlein, Lawrence F., 607 
 

Dinah (typhoon), 471 
 

Director of Guided 	 Missiles. 

partment of Defense 

Directorate of Astronautics. 

Air Force 

Discoverer I, 136 
 

Discoverer XIII, 279 
 

Discoverer XIV, 280 
 

Discoverer XVII, 280 
 

Discoverer program. 102, 279 
 

Disher, John H., 149, 539 fn 16, 545 fn 42, 607 
 

Distinguished Service Medal. See under 
 

National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics, National Aeronautics and Space Administration 

DOD. See under Department of Defense 
 

Dodson, Joseph W., 128, 459, 544 fn 32, 552 
 

fn 66, 601 fn 45, 607 
 

Dogs, 28, 33, 37, 264, 280, 300, 303, 325, 330 
 

Dofter, Edward J., 562 fn 76 
 

Doll, Edward B., 175,549 fn 14 
 

Dolley Madison House, ll3 
 

Dominic, Project, 467 
 

Donegan, James J., 249,337,607 
 

Donlan, Charles J., ll4, ll5, ll9, 120, 121, 129, 
 

161, 163, 170, 198, 199, 251, 256, 298 illus, 
 

300, 318, 331, 364, 392, 542 fn 54, 545 fn 34, 
 

547 fns 73, 80, 607 
 

Donnelly, Paul c., 270, 297, 416 illus 
 

Donovan, J. P., 251 
 

Doolittle, James H., 63, 76, 82, 84 illus 
 

Dore. Frank 1., 90, 118 
 

Dornberger, Walter, 16, 531 fn 43 
 

D'Orsey, C. Leo, 238, 559 fn 33 
 

Dosimeter, 467, 478 
 

Douglas Aircraft Co., 11,23, 121 
 

Douglas, James H., 73, 97 
 

Douglas, W. J., 424 ill us 
 

Douglas, William K., 229, 230, 239, 351, 354 
 

illus, 366 illus, 369, 418, 422, 434, 441, 442, 
 

584 fn 46 
 

Dover, Del., 228 
 

Downey, Calif., 124,213 
 

Drummond, Roscoe, 306 
 

See under De­


See under U.S. 


656 
28,29, 539 fns 11, 17, 559 fn 32, 603 fn 3,607 
 

Duane (chimpanzee), 400 
 

Dubose, Thomas J., 457 
 

Dubusker, William, 191, 193, 225, 249, 552 fn 
 

53,565 fn 17,607 
 

Duke University School of Medicine, 227 
 

Dunham, Richard M., 607 
 

Dunkelman, Lawrence, 595 fn 70, 596 fn 90 
 

Dupree, A. Hunter, vi 
 

Durand, William F., 9 
 

Durban, South Africa, 461, 480, 481 
 

Dyna·Soar, Project, 71, 74, 78, 100, 101, 102, 
 

121, ISO, 214, 282, 532 fn 61, 534 fn 26 
 

Dynamic forces, 124 
 

Dynamic Loads Division. See under Langley 
 

Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory 
 

Echo I, 280,369,478,479,567 fn 38 
 

Echo, Project, 280 
 

ECS. See under Environmental control system 
 

Education Services, Inc., 309 
 

Edwards Air Force Base, Calif., 11, 57, 157, 
 

198,235,239,241, 525 fns24, 26 
 

Effler, Carl F., 230 
 

Eggers, Alfred J., Jr., 61, 62, 65, 66, 67 ill us, 
 

68, 69, 72, 81, 87, 89, 106, 530 fn 20, 532 fn 
 

49, 607 
 

Eglin Air Force Base, Fla. (see also under 
 

U.S. Air Force), 401 
 

Egress. See under Astronaut 
 

Ehricke, Krafft A., 118 
 

Eiband, A. Martin, 270 
 

Eisenhower. Dwight D., 28, 79, 82, 83, 89, 90, 
 

91, 93, 98, 101, 102, 105, 110, 131, 153, 160, 
 

187, 213, 257, 263, 264, 280, 285, 304, 306, 
 

538 fn 1,567 fn 38 
 

Eisenhower administration, 23, 27, 77, 82, 83, 
 

85, 93, 97, 109, 224, 281, 285, 307, 378 
 

Eisenhower, Milton, 217 
 

El Centro. Calif., 198,597 fn 100 
 

El Paso, Tex., 21 
 

El Salvador, 499 
 

El Segundo, Calif., 187,241 
 

Electrical systems. See under Spacecraft 
 

Ellington Air Force Base, Tex., 392 
 

Emma (typhoon), 471 
 

Emme, Eugene M., xiv, 559 fn 32, 605 
 

Engineering and Contract Administration Di· 
 

vision. See under Space Task Group 
 

Engineering Division. See under Space Task 
 

Group 
 

Engineering Services Division. See under 
 

Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory 
 

Engine 	 (see also under Booster, Missile, Mo· 
 

tor, and Rocket), 81 
 

A-7, 181,294 
 

F-l, 136, 543 fn 6 
 

Atlas 5), 399, 400, 401, 402

408 passim, 

402 illus, 419, 428, 589 fns 45, 58, 590 fns 66, 

3 
 

Environmental control system (ECS), 51, 80, 

93, 102, 157, 225. 227, 228, 230, 233 illus, 

240,241,270,272,273,288,292,311,315,331, 

343, 370, 376, 382, 398, 399, 403-406 passim, 

412, 416, 586 fn 14 
 

Eppenstein, H. F.. 563 fn 83 
 

Eppley, Charles V., xv, 607 
 

Epstein, Julius, 572 fn 4 
 

Erb, R. Bryan, 607 
 

Erickson, Robert P., 567 fn 76 
 

Ertel, Ivan T., xiv, 607 
 

Escape motor, 210 
 

Escape rocket, 96, 141, 168, 208, 210, 212, 

213, 224, 250, 261, 291, 294, 299, 313, 315, 

326, 327, 331, 337 
 

Escape system, 96, 134, 139, 141, 156, 168, 

172, 187, 208, 210, 212, 235, 273, 292, 337, 

350,384,505 
 

Escape tower, 96, 138, 199, 200, 272, 287, 293, 

296, 299, 321, 327, 331, 360, 384, 447, 448, 

473, 577 fn 71 
 

Ethiopia, 499 
 

Europe, 9 
 

Everline, Robert T., 487, 598 fn 10, 607 
 

Ewing, D., 230 
 

Excelsior II, 240 
 

Excelsior Ill, 240 
 

Excelsior project, 240 
 

Explorer I (satellite), 29, 49, 76, 79 
 

Explorer II (balloon), 47 
 

Explorer II (satellite), 523 fn 93 
 

Explorer III (satellite), 30 
 

Explorer V I (satellite), 49 
 

Explorer project, 29, 30, 49, 52, 99, 155 
 

F-l, 136,543 fn 6 
 

F4H-l Phantom, 190 
 

F-89,38 
 

F-94C,38 
 

F -100, 239,518 fn 30 
 

F-lOOF, 243 illus, 358 
 

F-104,198 
 

F-I06,352 
 

Faber, Stanley, 238 
 

FACT (Flight Acceptance Composite Test), 

274 
 

Faget, Maxime A., 43, 46, 65, 66, 72, 86, 

87, 89, 90, 92, 93, 94, 95, 96, 102, 105, 

106, 114, 115, 118-128 passim, 135, 136, 138, 

148, 149 illus, 152, 169, 170, 190, 191, 199, 

201, 204, 206, 224, 226, 227, 228, 250, 251, 

253, 254, 272, 286, 292, 298 illus, 318, 324, 

389, 429, 435, 489, 526 fns 38, 39, 531 fn 31, 

532 fn 54, 535 fns 39, 45, 58, 536 fn 64, 541 

657 
 
Federation Aeronautique Internationale (FAI), 

281 

Ferri, Antonio, 78, 531 fn 39 

"Ferri sled," 78 

Fields, Edison M., 139, 140, 259, 260, 299, 539 

fn 16, 543 fn 20,607 

Fineg, Jerry, 400, 408,607 

Finney, John W., 379 

"Fireflies," 428, 452, 453, 473, 476, 477, 495, 

596 fn 91 

Fischer, R A., 225 

Fisher, Lewis R, 246, 269, 338, 393, 444, 487, 

577 fn 72,607 

Fisher, Lloyd, 545 fn 34 

Fishman, Alfred P., 578 fn 81 

Fisk, J ames B., 82 

Flashing beacon satellite, 495-496 

Fleming Field, Minn., 51 

Flesh, Edward M., 148, 191, 193, 196, 249, 552 

fn 53,607 . 

Flickinger, Don D., 70, 131, 148, 256, 348, 536 

fn 75 

Flight controller, 15, 419, 509 

Flight Control Section. See under Space Task 

Group 

Flight dynamics officer, 297, 386, 403 

Flight Research Center (see also under High 

Speed Flight Station), 170 

Flight Research Division. See under Langley 

Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory, Langley 

Research Center, and Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory 

Flight Safety Review Board, 255, 289 

Flight Systems Division. See under Space 

Task Group 

Florida, 75,268,370,371,422,454,500,507,509 

Flotation bag. See under Spacecraft 

Flotation collar (see under Spacecraft), 591 

fn 17 

Fluorescein dye. See under Recovery aids 

Fly·by-wire (see also under Spacecraft), 196, 

197,234,355,359,429,432,438,450,453,494 

Fomalhaut (star), 477 

Ford, F. A., 118 

Ford Motor Co., 159 

Aeronautic Division, 159, 393, 394, 395 

Fort Bliss, Tex., 21 

Foster, Norman G., 607 

Foster, Robert L., 269, 278, 324, 421 

Fowler, Calvin D., 321,491 

Franklin, Marion R, 393 

Freedom 7 (see also under Spacecraft and 

Mercury-Redstone 3), 341, 342, 343, 346, 

352, 353, 355, 356, 357, 359, 360, 361, 362, 

365, 575 fn 37, 582 fn 35 

Freitag, Robert, 607 

French, John c., 183, 256, 268, 270, 562 fn 73, 

565 fn 13, 607 

658 

437 illus, 443, 522 fn 22, 594 fn 52 

Frieda (typhoon), 471 

"Frost flies," 453, 495 

Frutkin, Arnold K., 217,556 fn 108,607 

Fuel. See under Spacecraft 

Fulbright, J. William, 349, 491 

Fulton, James G., 332,411 

G loads (see also Acceleration stress and Centrifuges), 39-43 passim, 46, 49, 68, 80, 81, 

92, 96, 99, 141, 143, 148, 178, 212, 231, 239, 

311, 315, 316, 341, 353, 356, 357, 358, 369, 

370, 371, 372, 378, 387, 404, 405, 408, 500, 

508, 52'6 fns 32, 36, 39; 574 fn 26 

Gabriel, David S., 244 

Gagarin, Yuri A. (see also Cosmonaut), xiii, 

156,332-334,335,337,341,342,348,361,365, 

377, 37~ 382, 39~ 578 fn 85, 579 fn 88 

Galilei, Galileo, 5, 505 

Galveston Bay, Tex., 390 

Gamble, Allen 0., 129, 161 

Gandy, Charles L., 278, 321, 421. 488 illus 

Gantry, 345, 351, 369, 370, 402, 403, 493, 494 

Gardner, Trevor, 22, 572 fn 7 

Gardner, Virgil F., 393 

Garland, Benjamine ].,87,89, 95,286,607 

Garrett Corp., 225 

Gates, Sally D., XIV, 607 

Gauer, Otto, 36, 41 

GD/A. See under General Dynamics/Astronautics 

Gegenschein, 415 

Gemini, Project, 364, 379, 392, 436, 438, 442, 

462, 487, 489, 503, 505, 506, 507, 508, 509, 

510,510 illus, 532 fn 61, 583 fn 40, 598 fn III 

Gemini-Titan, 503 

Gendielle, Ralph, 388 illus 

General Accounting Office, 261, 507 

General Dynamics/Astronautics Corp., 25, 26, 

118, 158 ill us, 175, 573 fn 15 

General Electric Co., 19, 21, 62, 63, 64, 79, 

93, 102, 118, 193, 200, 402, 42'6, 522 fn 75, 

544 fn 21 

General Mills, 50 

Geophysical Year. See under International 

Geophysical Year 

George Washington University, vi, 311 

Georgetown University, 441 

Georgia Institute of Technology, 538 fn 10 

Georgia System, Univ. of, xiv 

Gephart, Landis S., 256, 266, 268 

Gerathewohl, Siegfried J., 34, 38, 39, 178, 524 

fn 5, 527 fn 49 

German, 80 

German Air Force, 34, 41 

German Army, 16 

German Society for Space Travel, 16 
fn 39, 595 fn 70, 601 fns 40, 44, 607 

Gillespie, Ben l\L, 607 

Gilruth, Robert R, xiv, 11,65,66,86,90,94,95, 

106, 110, 113, 114, 115, 116, 119, 120, 126, 

127, 131, 132, 145, 148, 149, 150, 151, 152, 

153, 154 illus, 156, 159, 160, 163, 169, 170, 

181, 183, 185, 198, 199, 204, 212, 214, 244, 

248, 250, 251, 254, 256, 260, 261, 266, 267, 

268, 270, 271, 275, 279, 282, 284, 286, 287, 

289, 298 illus, 299, 318, 320-324, 331, 332, 

337,342,348,349,360-361,364,365,368,377, 

381, 389, 392, 393, 407, 409, 435. 438, 439 

illus, 440, 442, 460, 462, 470, 488 illus, 489, 

498 ill us, 501, 517 fn 27, 538 fn 98, 539 fns 

11, 17; 550 fn 33, 553 fn 80, 562 fn 72, 565 

fn 19, 567 fn 35, 572 fn 8, 577 fn 62, 578 fn 

80, 579 fn 89, 580 fn 2, 581 fn 19, 564 fn 56, 

587 fn 19, 594 fn 52, 605, 607 

GIRD (Group for the Study of Rocket Propulsion Systems), 519 fn 40 

Gleason, James p " 290, 293 

Glenn, John H., Jr., (see also Astronaut), xiii, 

148, 160, 164, 164 illus, 173 illus, 230, 235, 

237, 238, 246, 247 illus, 287, 318, 322, 335, 

342, 343, 349, 351, 365, 366 illus, 368, 374 

illus, 377, 402, 407, 409, 411, 412, 416 illus, 

417, 418, 420-423, 424 illus, 425 illus, 426­

436, 437 illus, 438 illus, 440, 443, 445, 446, 

447, 448, 152, 453, 454, 455, 459, 460, 461, 

462, 473, 476-477, 478, 479, 480, 481, 484, 

491, 495, 497, 500, 501, 508, 544 fn 31, 

579 fn 89, 580 fn 2, 581 fn 25,585 fn 56, 586 

fn 15, 591 fn 20, 592 fn 22, 593 fns 34, 37, 

39, 49, 594 fn 52, 595 fn 70, 599 fn 27, 607 

Glenn effect, 452 

Glennan, T. Keith, 98, 99, 106, 109, 110-115 

passim, 131, 132, 135, 136, 140, 141, 151, 153, 

154 illus, 160, 163, 168, 176 illus, 178, 224, 

250, 260, 261, 263, 264, 266, 267, 268, 274, 

281, 297, 306, 341-342, 348, 538 fn 1, 546 

fns 57,58; 549 fn 21, 564 fn 4, 567 fn 45, 607 

Gliders, 558, 568, 532 fn 61 

Gloves, 230, 368,373 

Goddard Memorial Trophy, 594 fn 52 

Goddard, Robert Hutchings, 13, 14, 15 illus, 

16, 22 

Goddard Space Flight Center, 147 illus, 153, 

157, 170, 214, 217, 218, 219, 220, 237, 297, 

303, 393, 394, 401, 403, 404, 444--445, 452, 

466, 496, 503, 505, 546 fn 57, 588 fn 30, 

595 fn 69 

Computing and Communications Center, 218, 

314,322,337,419 

Godwin, Francis, 3 

Goebbels, Joseph, 17 

Goetchi us, Rod, 217 

Goett, Harry]', 218, 258, 393 

Going, Allen ]., xiv 

544 fn 21 

Goodwin, Burney H., 251 

Goodyear Aircraft Corp., 100 

Gorgon, 520 fn 52 

Gough, Melvin N., 154,201,268 

Graduate Research Cenler of the Southwest, vi 

Graham, John B., Jr., 501 

Grand Bahama Island, 358, 376, 401 

Grand Central Rocket Co., 157,271,568 fn 46 

Grand Turk Island, 401. 434,458 

Graves, G. Barry, 14'6,215,216,393,394,545 fn 

38,607 

Gray, R. Flanagan, 43, 46,96,97,120, 148 

Gray, Wilbur H., 171,607 

Gray, Wood, vi 

Graziano, Rocky, 400 

Great Bear Constellation, 452 

Great Britain, 6 

Great Depression, 8 

Great Victoria Desert, Australia, 449 

Greek, 400 

Greeks, 132 

Greenbelt, Md., 115 

Greenland, 50 

Gregory, Donald T., 608 

Gregory, E. M., 540 fn 26, 608 

Greider, Herbert R, 225,227,228 

Greil, Karl F., 271, 445 

Grimminger, George, 48 

Grine, Kenneth, 421 

Grissom, Virgil 1. (see also under Astronaut)

160, 164, 164 illus, 173 ill us, 210, 235, 237

241, 245, 287, 322, 342-343, 349, 354 illus

365, 366 illus, 368-377 passim, 374 illus, 382

387, 398, 402, 414, 415, 416, 423, 430, 436

438 illus, 454, 455, 474, 477, 478, 479, 481

495, 562 fn 74, 579 fn 80, 580 fn 2, 582 fn 

27, 583 fn 41, 584 fns 53, 54, 56, 57, 58

fn 15, 587 fn 19, 591 fns 16, 17, 593 fn 34

608 

Grober, David T., 194 

Groissant, Gus, 175,491 

Ground crews, 265 

Ground Operational Support Systems (GOSS)

509 

Ground support, III 

Gruen Applied Science Laboratories, 78, 53

fn 39 

Gruene, H. F., 310 

Grumman Aircraft Engineering Corp., 121, 137

159,257,414 

Grunzke, Marvin, 400 

Grus (constellation), 447 

Guadalcanal Island, 216 

Guam, 556 fn 1 

Guardite Co., 47 

Guaymas, Mexico, 383, 389, 401, 402, 428

474, 475, 481, 495, 586 fn IS 

659 
Guided Missile Research Division, RamoWool 

dridge Corp., 23 

becomes Space Technology Laboratories, 23 

Gulf Coast, 440 

Gulf of Mexico, 355, 390 

Gulick, Jesse R., 346 

Guthrie, George c., 238, 240 

Gyroscopes (see also under Spacecraft), 552 

fn 59 

Haber, Fritz, 34, 37, 38, 47 

Haber, Heinz, 34, 36, 37, 38, 41 

Hagerty, James c., 29 

Hale, Edward Everett, 3, 5, 13 

Hall, F. H. S., 580 fn 8 

Ham (chimpanzee), 314---318 passim, 323, 348, 

367, 375, 400, 401, 403, 408, 575 fn 41 

Hammack, Jerome B., ll5. 128, 172, 181, 288, 

297, 317 illus, 324, 330, 489, 570 fn 74, 608 

Hampton, Va., 392, 440, 459 

Hampton Roads, Va., ll3, 303 

Haney, Paul P., XV, 328, 350, 397,398,421,608 

Hangar S, 155, 201, 204, 268, 270, 273, 274, 

310, 312, 330, 345, 350, 365, 369, 382, 422, 

446, 461, 546 fn 62, 575 fn 41 

Hanson, 1. D., 278 

Harlingen, Tex., 587 fn 20 

Harmon, Walter A., 182, 248 

Harrin, E. N., 287 

Harris County. Tex., 390 

Harris, Gordon, '608 

Harris, Thomas A., 393 

Hartgering, James B., 578 fn 81 

Harvard University, 48, 82 

Harvey, Proctor, 441 

Harz Moun tains, 17 

Hasson, Dennis F., 142,261,554 fn 81 

Hatch (see also under Spacecraft), 197, 240, 

345, 346, 351, 365- 367, 373, 376-377, 383. 

403, 406, 584 fn 57 

Hauty, George T., 47,48 

Havenstein, Paul L., 129,252,608 

Hawaii, 279, 383, 389, 399, 406, 428, 431, 436, 

453, 475, 477, 478, 479, 486, 500, 597 fn 104 

Hayes, William c., 388 illus 

Haze layer, 452, 480 

Heard, J. T., 278 

Heatshield (see also under Spacecraft), 65, 

126, 127, 128, 145, 200, 206, 294, 3ll, 316, 

322, 326, 384, 389, 398, 407, 541 fn 45, 588 

fn 41, 593 fn 49 

Heat sink. See under Heating, aerodynamic 

Heating, aerodynamic (see also under Ablating 

materials and Ablation), 54, 57,59,60, 63, 

64, 65, 68, 69, 70, 80, 86, 87, 93, 95, 96, 97, 

128, 210, 384, 389, 406, 531 fn 36 

660 

3ll, 360, 531 fn 39 

vs. ablator, 65, 87, 93, 95, 96, 97, 140 

heatshield, 65, 87, 95, 102, 126, 138, 139, 

140, 157, 204, 320, 322, 326 

rocket research, 60, 65, 70 

Heaton, Donald H., 81, 82 

Heberlig, Jack c., 43, ll5, 121, 489, 608 

Hechler, Kenneth, 438 illus 

Heinemann, Edward H., 578 fn 81 

Heinsheimer, Tom E., 175 

Heitsch, John F., 456, 457, 459 

Helicopter (see also under Recovery operations), 297, 346 

Heller, Niles R., 503 

Hellriegel, John R., 316 

Helmet, 230, 368, 372, 373 

Hempstead, N.Y., 531 fn 39 

Henry, James P., 37, 39, 292, 313, 441 

Hermach, Charles A., 89 

Hermes (god), 132 

Hermes (C-l) , 21 

Hickman, Paul D., 571 fn 4 

Hicks, Claiborne R., 539 fn 16,608 

Higgins, Harlan G., 592 fn 30 

Higgins, Rodney F., 240 

High Speed Flight Station (see also under 

Flight Research Center), ll, 57, 66, 81, 84, 

85, 106, 148, 170 

High Speed Research Division. See under 

Ames Aeronautical Laboratory 

High Temperature Branch. See under Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory 

Hilles, F. V. H., 312, 355, 361 

Himalayas, 497 

Hintz, Marvin E., xv 

HIROC, 22 

Hiroshima, Japan, 10, 23 

Hjornevik, Wesley L., 546 fn 55, 608 

Hock, Catherine D., 256, 266, 268 

Hodge, John D., 216, 254,273, 366 illus, 546 fn 

56,555 fn 104,608 

Hoffman, Sherwood, 96, 142, 544 fn 28, 608 

Hoffman, Robert, 488 illus 

Hohmann, Bernhard A., 174, 175, 187, 189,255, 

259, 278, 300, 307, 321, 439 illus, 488 illus, 

549 fn 14, 551 fn 47, 562 fn 72, 573 fn 15, 

585 fn 3, 608 

Holaday, William M., 73, 77, 78, 79, 135, 136 

Holden, C. J., 278 

Holland, Spessard L., 457, 597 fn 106 

Holloman Aerospace Medical Center, 313, 3]4 

Holloman Air Force Base, N. Mex., 37, 38, 39, 

40, 50, 51, 291, 312, 400, 408, 444, 525 fn 

24,590 fn 66 

Aeromedical Field Laboratory, 38, 39, 40, 50 

Hollywood, Calif., 213 

Holmes, D. Brainerd, 397, 439 illus, 457, 487, 

498 illus, 503, 597 fn 106 
Hoover, Herbert, 458 illus 

Hopko, Russell N., 608 

Hopman, John P., 175,491,563 fn 83 

Horizon scanner (see also under Spacecraft), 

389, 398 

Horner, Richard E., 92, 179, 256, 265, 266, 271 

Hornig, Donald c., 325, 572 fn 7, 577 fn 62, 

578 fn 81 

Hornig Panel, 325, 331, 577 fn 62 

"Horse collar," 308, 318, 320, 321, 357, 375, 528 

fn 63, 573 fn 16 

Horsman, Paul F., 552 fn 60, 608 

Hound Dog, 520 fn 58 

House of Representatives, 83 

Committee on Appropriations, Subcommittee 

on Independent Offices, 391 

Committee on Science and Astronautics, 164, 

281, 285, 309, 326, 332, 335, 349, 436, 507, 

573 fn 14 

Select Committee on Astronautics and Space 

Exploration, 83, 98, 100, 106 

Houston, Tex., ii, 218, 381, 390, 391, 392, 398, 

440, 470, 486, 489, 490, 500, 501, 506, 507, 

509, 587 fn 20 

Houston, Univ. of, xii, xiv 

Hughes Aircraft Co., 521 fn 68 

Hughes, Donald F., 608 

Hunsaker, Jerome c., 9, 10, 55, 533 fn 2 

Huntsville, Ala., 21, 25, 63, 79, 122, 151, 171, 

172, 181, 185, 187, 237, 239, 257, 258, 293, 

296, 310, 324 

Huss, Carl R., 178, 216, 553 fns 79, 80, 608 

Hiland, Lawrence S., 578 fn 81 

IBM. See under International Business 

Machines Corp. 

ICBM (see also under Missile), 22, 23, 25, 

26, 27, 28, 59, 60, 63, 64, 69, 72, 73, 90, 91, 

96, 102, 117, 122, 134, 156, 175, 183, 188, 199, 

200,208,216,264,383 

IGY. See under International Geophysical 

Year 

IRBM (see also under Missile), 25, 27, 99 

Impact bag, 327, 337, 349, 360, 375, 545 fn 34 

569 fn 57 ' 

Impact forces, 40,42, 142, 143 

Impact skirt, 287, 356,570 fn 71 

Impact sled, 40,41 

Impact test, 102 

Inconel, 201 

Inconel.X, 57, 63 

India, 435, 497 

Indian Ocean, 264, 285, 335, 385, 399, 427, 430, 

448, 449, 478 

Indian Ocean Ship, 401, 427, 431, 452, 478, 481 

Indian River, 371 

International Business achines Corp. (IBM), 

203, 217 

International Geophysical Year (IGY) , 20, 28

29,52,82,116,143,168,217 

International Latex Corp., 228 

Inverter, 288,314, 377,398,405 

Inyokern, Calif., 291 

Iowa Academy of Science, 234 

Istanbul, Turkey, 367 

Jaanimets, Victor, 567 fn 39 

Jackson, Bruce G., 188, 553 fn 72, 608 

Jackson, Carmault B., 358, 434 

Jackson, J. c., 503 

Jacksonville, Fla., 312, 587 fn 20 

Jahn, Charles F., 228 

Japan, 497 

Jarrett, Francis E., Jr., xv 

JATO, 16, 18, 139 

Jenkins, T. E., 546 fn 57,553 fn 78 

Jet Propulsion Laboratory (Cal Tech), 16, 19

27, 29, 99, 530 fn 24 

Jim (chimpanzee), 400 

Johns Hopkins Univ., 9, 19 

Applied Physics Laboratory, 19 

Johnson, Caldwell c., 102, 119, 123, 124, 152, 

260, 292, 489, 537 fn 92, 540 fn 26, 608 

Johnson, Harold 1., 240, 244, 358, 608 

Johnson, John, 238 

Johnson, Lady Bird, 502 illus 

Johnson, Louis, 22 

Johnson, Lyndon B., 29, 48, 77, 98, 308, 309

326, 391, 435, 437 illus, 484, 502 illus, 520 

fn 55 

Johnson, Pamela c., xiv 

Johnson, Roy W., 79, 92, 93, 97, 100, 101, 106

110, Ill, 126, 136 

Johnson, W. Kemble, 252, 608 

Johnston, C. A., 200 

Johnston, Harold G., 275 

Johnston, Kurt, 275 

Johnston, Richard S., 225, 226, 227, 228, 230

237, 554 fn 89 

Johnsville, Pa., 41, 42, 43, 80, 96, 98, 120, 157

235, 238, 239, 243 illus, 288, 331, 365, 441

526 fn 32 

Joint Chiefs of Staff, 91, 135 

Jones, Edward R., 193, 194, 195, 234, 238, 241

246,247,248,552 fn 55, 608 

J uno I, 29, 129, 155 

J uno II, 133, 155 

Jupiter (IRBM), 27, 53, 63, 64, 79, 99, 118

122, 123, 125, 133, 141, 152, 156, 184, 185

239, 264, 323 

Jupiter (planet), 477 

J up-iter C, 29, 30, 31, 63, 76, 135, 180, 181 

661 
Kaufman, Walter, 165 

Kavanau, Lawrencc, vi 

Kazakh stnn , U.S.S.R., 280 

Kechn, Hichard W., 175, 320, 549 fn 15, 608 

Kehlet, Abn 13 .. 9·t, 115, 121, 188, 235, 261, 

489, 55:-3 fn 72, 554 fn 81, 600 fn 39, 608 

Kelly. D. W., 580 fn 8 

Kemper. Frank B., 175 

Kennedy, John F. , ii, xiii, 284, 285, 304, .105, 

306, 309, 323, 325, 326, 331, 335, 349, 350, 

357, 361, 361 illus, 362, 363, 364, 379, 390, 

411, 421, 434, 435, 437 ill us, 458, 462, 470, 

471 illus, 484, 486, 502 illus, 503, 506, 510 

illus, 576 fn 77, 582 fns 29, 35, 583 fn 40, 

589 fn 56, 599 fn 21 

Kennedy administration, 313, 378, 510 

Kennedy Space Center, NASA, 505 

Kcnya, 216 

Kepler, J ohanne~, 5, 216 

Keplerian trajectory, 37, 40 

Kerr, Robert S., 309 

Khrushchev, Nikita, 18, 213, 264, 280, 281, 304, 

361,435,459,486,567 fn 39 

Killian Committee, 82 

Killian, James R., 82, 83, 98, 101, 252, 306 

Kincheloe, Iven, 36 

Kindelberger, J. H., 27 

Kindley Air Force Base, Bermuda, 408 

Kin/!, David S., 332 

King of Morocco, 361 

Kinzler, Jack A., 251, 252, 260, 349, 553 fn 73 

Kistiakowsky, George 13., 306 

Kittinger, Joseph W., 51, 240 

Kitty Hawk, N.C., 5,132 

Kleinknecht, Kenneth S., 170, 252, 270, 289, 

324, 425 illus, 440, 443, 445, 451 illus, 462, 

464,488 illus, 489, 598 fn 4, 608 

Knauf, George M., 216, 441, 555 fn 104, 608 

Koch, G. P., 345, 580 fn 8 

Kolenkiewicz, Ronald, 105, 123, 539 fn 16 

Kolcum, E. Harry, 212 

Koons, Wayne E., 359, 574 fn 30, 575 fn 41, 

581 fn 10, 608 

Korea, 22, 163 

Korean war, 10 

Kraft, Christopher c., J r., 115, 135, 177, 215, 

252, 253, 254, 273, 289, 311, 314, 321, 345, 

366 illus, 404, 406, 419, 422, 431, 435, 439 

iIlus, 447, 451 illus, 453, 462, 469, 474, 488 

illus, 489, 502 illus, 509, 555 fn 102, 592 fn 

33,608 

Kranz, Eugene F., 419 

Kranzberg, Melvin, vi 

Krasnican, Milan J., 539 fn 16 

Krieger, Robert L., 577 fn 71 

Kuehnel, Helmut, 488 illus 

662 

Laika (dog), 28, 37 

Lafayette ~quare, Washington, D.C., 113 

Lake Chad, Chad, 149 

Lake Okeechobee, Fla., 355 

Land, Edwin H., 572 fn 7 

Landing hag, 311, 316, 318, 331, 356, 360, 372, 

382, 593 fn 49 

Langley Aerodrome, 56, 515 fn 5 

Langley Air Force Base, Va., 113, 122, 303, 381 

Langley Field, Va., 6, Ill, 113, 121, 138, 139, 

148,164,170,183,185,187,198,201,208,209, 

230,267,276,300,331,382,393 

Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory, 6, 

7 illus, 8, 10, 11, 43, 56, 57, 59, 64, 65, 66, 

71, 72, 74, 81, 83, 84, 85, 86, 89, 93, 94, 95, 

96, 102, 105, 106, 110, 114, 115, 116, 119, 

120, 121, 123, 124, 125, 126, 129, 131 

becomes Langley Research Center, 113 

contributions to aircraft design, 8 

ballistic range, 83 

Compressibility Research Division, 89 

Dynamic Loads Division, 113 

Engineering Services Division, 102 

Flight Research Division, 71, 85, 102 

high-temperature jets, 64, 66, 83 

Instrument Research Division, 71, 85 

manned satellite research, 81, 93 

philosophy, 85, 86 

Pilotless Aircraft Research Division 

(PARD), 10, 11, 43, 65, 71, 72, 85, 86, 

94,95,96,102 

contour couch developed, 96 

manned satellite research, 94, 96 

High Temperature Branch, 85 

Performance Aerodynamics Branch, 86 

rocket research, 66, 83, 94 

Study Group, 57 

wind tunnel, 10, 63, 64, 65, 83, 87, 88 illus, 

94, 113,518 fn 30 

hypersonic, 63, 64, 95 

free spinning, 87, 95 

X-I5,66 

Langley Research Center, 1B, 141, 142, 143, 

146, 149, 152, 153, 157, 159, 163, 167, 

169, 170, 213, 214, 215, 219, 240, 241, 

249, 251, 254, 287, 303, 318, 331, 365, 

368, 391, 392, 394, 415, 440, 459, 595 

fn 69 

Applied Materials and Physics Division, 251 

astronaut training, 416, 467 

Dynamic Loads Division, 115 

Flight Research Division, 115, 534 fn 31 

Full-ScaJe Tunnel Research Division, 115 

Instrument ReEearch Division, 115, 146, 251 

Pilotless Aircraft Research Division 

(PARD), 114, 115, 119,123 
Las Vegas, Nev., 156 

Launch Operations Directorate (MSFC), 296, 

310 

Launch window, 216 

Lauten, William T., J r., 116, 586 fn 10, 608 

Lawbaugh, A. L, 152 

Lawren.,;e, David, 378 

Lee, John B., 128, 287, 539 fn 16, 550 fn 46, 

608 

Lehrer, Max, 572 fn 7 

Lein, Paul, 217, 575 fn 37,608 

LeMay, Curtis E., 78, 79,92, 102 

Leonov, Alexei, 506 

Letsch, Ernst R., 175, 189, 255, 259, 278, 321, 

608 

Levy, Edwin Z., 161 

Lewis, David S., 191 

Lewis Flight Propulsion Laboratory (see also 

Lewis Research Center), 9, 39, 56, 64, 66, 

71, 74, 76, 83, 84, 85, 90, 105, 106, 112, 

113 

becomes Lewis Research Center, 113 

beginning, 9 

Flight Research Division, 85 

high-temperature jets, 64, 66, 83 

philosophy, 76, 85 

rocket research, 83 

weightlessness experiments, 39 

Lewis, George W., 9 

Lewis, James L., 373, 375, 575 fn 41, 581 fn 10, 

608 

Lewis, M. L., 50 

Lewis Research Center (see also under Lewis 

Flight Propulsion Laboratory), 115, 125, 

126, 139, 149, 151, 155, 157, 167, 169, 201, 

273,287,367,444,595 fn 69 

altitude wind tunnel, 151,244,560 fn 46 

becomes Lewis Research Center, 113 

Liberty, Tex., 587 fn 20 

Liberty Bell 7 (see also under Spacecraft and 

Mercury-Redstone 4), 368, 374 illus, 377 

passim, 455, 583 fn 46 

Library of Congress, vi 

Life raft (see also under Spacecraft, Mercury), 

596 fn 86 

Life Systems Branch. See under Space Task 

Group 

Lincoln, Evelyn, 350 

Lincoln Laboratory, 157 

Lindbergh, Charles A., 6, 7 illus, 8, 331, 436 

Lindell, Keith G., 129, 252, 358 illus 

Lindemann, Robert A., xv 

Link, Mae M., 608 

Little Joe, 105, 124, 125, 126, 141, 152, 157, 

185, 208-209, 210, 212, 213, 263, 291, 292, 

294, 306, 310, 505 

Little Joe 1, 208, 209 

Little Joe I- A, 209, 210, 554 fn 88 

579 fn 97 

Li ttle Joe 5- B, 326, 331, 336 ill us, 337, 338, 382

394,579 fn 96 

Little Joe 6, 209 

Livingston, Rohert 8., 578 fn 81 

LJ-l. See under Little Joe 1 and I\Iercury

Project 

LJ-IA. See under Little Joe I-A and Mer

cury, Project 

LJ-2. See under Little Joe 2 and Mercury

Project 

LJ-5 See under Little Joe 5 and Mercury

Project 

LJ-5A. See under Little Joe 5-A and Mercury

Project 

LJ-5B. See under Little Joe 5-B and Mer

cury, Project 

LJ-6. See under Little Joe 6 and Mercury

Project 

Lockheed Aircraft Corp., 63, 65, 93, 102, 121 

Lombard, Albert E., 28 

London Daily Worker, 332 

Long Range Proving Ground, Fla., 19, 155 

Loon (see also under Missile), 520 fn 52 

Lord, Douglas R., 572 fn 13, 578 fn 81, 60

Los Angeles, Calif., 23, 58, 70, 78, 79, 80, 81

86, 95, 146, 241, 272, 300, 307, 318, 334

361, 393, 587 fn 20 

Louisiana, 281 

Louisiana State Univ., 86 

Lovell, James A., Jr., 601 fn 50 

Lovelace Clinic, 161, 162, 547 f n 75 

Lovelace Foundation for Medical Research

34, 162 

Lovelace, W. Randolph, II, 76, 120, 131, 148

348 

Low, George M., 106, 113, 116, 131, 138, 141

149, 151, 161, 193, 199,266,276,277,285,292

296, 298, 299, 320, 321, 330, 337, 393, 397

399, 402, 409, 435, 439 illus, 510 illus, 539 

fn 17, 541 fn 45, 545 fn 36, 554 fn 88, 565 

fn 6, 566 fn 30, 572 fn 9, 590 fn 63, 605, 608 

Lowe, Nancy, 580 fn 2, 608 

Lowman, Paul D., 445 

Lowrey, H. D., 562 fn 76 

Lucian of Samosata, 3, 132 

Luftwaffe, 34, 41 

Lunar orbit rendezvous (LOR), 503 

Lunar program (see also under Apollo, Proj

ect), 379 

Lunar reconnaissance project, 91 

Lunik I, 133 

Lunik II, 213 

Lunik 111,214,221 

Lunney, Glynn S., 539 fn 16 

663 
McClure, Ray, 457,459,597 fn 104 

McCormack, John W., 98, 502 illus 

McCreary, Ben F., 427 

McCurry, James W., 259 

McDivitt, James A" 601 fn 50 

McDonnell Aircraft Corp. (MAC), 78, 118, 

119, 121, 137, 138, 139, 142, 143, 148, ]49, 

150, 157, 158 illus, 159, 168, 171, 178, 179, 

182, 183, 186, 190, 191, 193, 194, 195, 196, 

197, 209, 210, 213, 214-218 passim, 230­

231, 234- 235, 238, 240, 241, 245-252 

passim, 254- 258 passim, 260, 261, 265-272 

passim, 276, 278, 283, 287-292 passim, 296, 

299, 309, 310, 324, 326, 329, 331, 347, 365, 

367, 370, 382, 389, 393, 394, 406, 412, 413, 

462, 463, 484, 490, 503, 505, 507, 557 fn 8 

awarded Mercury spacecraft contract, 137 

manned satellite design, 78, 138,311 

personnel employed on Mercury systems, 138 

McDonnell, James S., Jr., 119, 137, 191, 257, 

266, 319 illus 

MacDougall, George F., Jr., 115, 122, 150, 540 

fns 30, 33, 545 fn 46, 608 

.McElroy, Neil H., 27, 29, 73, 79, 101, 135 

McFall, Charles H., 152,209 

McFarland, Marvin W., vi 

McGill University, 232 

Mach, Ernst. 6, 530 fn 16 

MacIntyre, Marvin A., 91,92 

McIver, Gene, 433 

McKann, Rohert E., 273,608 

McKinsey & Co., 260, 261 

McLane, A. W., 580 fn 8 

McLeaish, John E., 608 

MacMillan, Logan T ., 148, 191, 196, 249; 250, 

257,269,562 fn 77,608 

McMillion, Lee N., 230, 231, 237, 240, 558 fn 

15, 582 fn 26, 608 

MacNabb, Byron G., 118, 200, 408, 439 illus, 

472 

McNamara, Robert S., 323, 469, 532 fn 61 

McPherson, Duncan, 189, 593 fn 33 

Madagascar, 449 

Magellan, Ferdina!1d, 556 fn 1 

Main Committee. See under National Ad· 

visory Committee for Aeronautics 

Malloy, Travis, 200 

Maloney, Philip R., 155 

Maloney, R. S., 587 fn 19 

Man.in·Space, Project, 91, 100, 106, 304, 537 

fn 84, 569 fn 56, 574 fn 26 

Man.in·Space·Soonest, Project (MISS), 91, 92, 

96, 97, 98, 101, 118, 120, 177, 537 fn 84, 

556 fn 112 

development plan for, 91 

Man.in·Space Sophisticated, 91 

Man·in·Spare Task Force, 91 

Man·Very·High, Project, 99 

Manned Ballistic Rocket Research System, 69, 

70,78 

!\:Iannecl Ballistic Satellite Task Group, 115 

Man 'led Earth Reconnaissance (MER) , 100, 

101 

]\Ianneo Glide Rocket Research System, 69, 

70,71 

Manned Lunar Landing and Return project, 

79,91 

Manned Satellite Panel (NASA-ARPA), 93, 

106, 110, Ill, 120, ]22, 129, 542 fn 49 

Manned Spacecraft CentN. 381, 390, 390 illus, 

391, 391 iJlus, 392, .197. 398. 409, 418, 487. 

492,501,505,506,509 

at Langley Rc!'-C'arc h Center. 4·10 

criteria for it" I"('al iPIl. ~<)O 

person'H'l figure". lW), .l08 

Project -'Jercury 0r11('e, 41O, 46.:;,lH9 

Puhlic Affairs orflce, 419 

l'-1anned Space Sf'ience Planning Group, 489 

Mansfield, Richard 1\1., 284 

1\1ardel, A. D., 608 

Marines. See under U.S. Marine Corps 

Marine Air Group 26. See under U.S. Marine 

Corps 

Mariner II, 492 

Mark I, 62, 64 

Mark II, 26, 62, 64,95,572 fn 8 

Markley, J. T., 251 

Mars, 511 

Marshall, George c., Space Flight Center, 299, 

310, 311, 323, 324, 378, 436, 505 

Martin Co., The, 19, 121, 503, 505, 532 fn 61 

Martin Co., The Glenn L. See under The 

Martin Co. 

Maryland, 426, 496 

Massachusetts, 14 

Massachusetts Institute of Technology (MIT), 

75, 82, 157, 159, 304, 444, 499, 528 fn 9, 595 

fn 69 

MASTIF. See under Multiple Axis Space Test 

Inertial Facility 

Matador, 520 fn 52 

Mathews, Charles W., 89, 94, 102, 115, 119, 120, 

146, 148, 154, 156, 169, 172, 184, 188, 200, 

201, 204, 215, 216, 232, 252, 253, 254, 261, 

273, 278, 279, 311, 318, 366 iIlus, 388 illus, 

535 fn 39, 537 fn 92, 545 fn 36, 550 fn 35, 608 

Matthews, C. Frederick, 254 

Mattingly, Thomas, 441 

Mattson, Axel T., 517 fn 27, 608 

Max q. 124, 209, 210, 212, 240, 276, 306, 308, 

321, 327, 338, 384, 386, 426, 473, 494, 533 

fn 72, 586 fn 46, 579 fn 96, 599 fn 27 

Maxwell, H. H., 124 

1\1ayer, John P., 115, 178,216,273,287,293,337, 

368, 534 in 31, 539 fn 18, 553 fn 78, 555 fn 

103,595 fn 71,608 

664 
Mengel, John T., 219,556 fn 112 
 

Menippus, 3 
 

Mental Health Institute. See under National 

Naval Medi('al Center 

MER, Project, 100, 101 
 

MER I. 100 
 

MER II, 100 
 

MER III, 101 
 

Mercer, Robert D., 451 iIlus, 488 il1us, 608 
 

Mercury (Creek god), 3, 132, 165, 255 
 

Mercury-Atlas (see also under Mercury, Project), 155. 174, 176, 185, 187, 188, 189, 208, 
 

209, 246. 25~ 255, 25~ 263, 26R 272, 277 
 

iIlus, 278. 291, 304, 306, 318, 320, 321, 322, 
 

326,327,337,347,377,379,382,383,384,394, 
 

397, 588 fn 34 
 

Mercury-Atlas 1 (see also under Mercury, Proj­
 

ect), 186. 249, 250, 259, 272, 273, 274, 275, 
 

27~ 27R 27~ 281, 283, 29~ 29~ 300, 30~ 

320, 322, 385, 544 fn 25 
 

Mercury-Atlas 2 (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project), 259, 276, 278, 279, 290, 291, 292, 
 

300, 305, 307, 308, 316-322 passim, 383, 573 
 

fn 16 
 

Mercury-Atlas 3 (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project), 291, 331, 335-337, 381, 382, 383, 
 

413 
 

Mercury-Atlas 4 (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project), 335, 337, 381-386 passim, 389, 393, 
 

395, 398, 399, 400, 404, 406, 407, 413, 435, 
 

585 fn 4, 586 fn 12, 591 fn 18 
 

.Mercury-Atlas 5 (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project), 259,412, 419, 428, 435,440, 585 
 

fn 4, 588 fn 41, 590 fn 3, 591 fn 18 
 

Mercury-Atlas 6 (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project), 259, 411, 412, 413, 416, 418, 419, 
 

435, 445, 446, 461, 508, 544 fn 25, 590 fns 67, 
 

3, 591 fn 18, 593 fn 48, 594 fn 49, 595 fn 70, 
 

597 fn 98 
 

Mercu.ry-Atlas 7 (see also under Mercury, 
 

ProJect), 141, 412, 418, 440, 441, 445, 446, 
 

4%, 499, 514 fn 25, 594 fn 61, 595 fn 74, 
 

597 fn 98 
 

Mercury-Atlas 8 (see also under Mercury 
 

Project), 160, 164, 228, 230, 235, 237, 246: 
 

287, 352, 375, 377, 402, 407, 418, 431, 440, 
 

443, 494, 496, SOl, 582 fn 28, 583 fn 46, 586 
 

fn 15, 599 fn 27, 600 fn 30 
 

Mercury-Atlas 9 (see also under Mercury 
 

Project), 160, 164, 235, 237, 289, 345, 351: 
 

377, 402, 406, 414, 428, 460, 508, 583 fn 46 
 

586 fn 15 ' 
 

Mercury-Atlas 10 (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project), 492, SOl, 503, 506 
 

Mercury Control Center, 217, 253, 291, 294, 
 

314, 321, 343, 352, 358, 360, 371, 372, 389, 
 

401-405 passim, 415, 418, 419, 422, 423, 425 
 

l\fercury Mark II,

 379 
 

Mercury program. See under Mercury, Proj­
 

ect 
 

Mercury, Project, \'i, xi,S, 26, 33, 36, 39, 46, 48, 
 

49, 51, 58, 86, 101, 106, 113, 132, 133­

136 passim, 140- 143 passim, 145, 148, 149, 
 

151, 153, 157, 159, 160, 161, 163, 164, 165, 
 

167-170 passim, 172-175 passim, 177-180 

passim, 182, 183. 185, 187, 191, 193, 195, 
 

196, 199, 200-201, 204, 206-208 passim, 

212-210 passim, 218, 220-226 passim, 228, 
 

230, 232, 238, 248, 250-255 passim, 257, 

260, 261, 263-272 passim, 278-294 passim, 

299, 300, 303- 307 passim, 310, 322, 325, 

326, 330, 331, 332, 335, 341, 346, 363, 

364, 365, 368-377 passim, 379, 383, 392, 

393, 397, 398, 407, 409, 492, SOl, 505-511 

passim 
 

begi nnings, vi 
 

budget, 436, 438 
 

capsule, 138, 142, 190, 193, 194, 200, 224, 

230, 234, 239, 267, 274, 505 
 

costs, 508 
 

boosters, 508 
 

spacecraft, 508 
 

development, 33, 86 
 

flight program, 333 ill us 
 beach abort, May 9, 1960; 294 
 

Bip; Joe, Sept. 9, 1959; 125-128 passim, 

139 
 

Little Joe prolrram, 306, 310, 338 
 

Little Joe 1 (LJ-I) (premature abort), 

Aug_ 21, 1959; 208, 209 
 

Little Joe I-A (LJ-IA), Nov. 4, 1959; 

209, 210 
 

Little Joe I-B (LJ-lB) , Jan. 21, 1960 ; 

324 
 

Little Joe 2 (LJ-2), Dec. 4, 1959; 210, 

212, 240 
 

Little Joe 5 (LJ-5), Nov. 8, 1960; 326, 

327, 337 
 

Little Joe 5- A (LJ-5A), Mar. 18, 1961; 

324, 326, 327, 328, 337 
 

Little Joe 5-B (LJ-5B), Apr. 28, 1961; 

327, 331, 336 illus, 338 
 

Little Joe 6 (LJ-6), Oct. 4, 1959; 209 
 

Mercury-Atlas 1 (MA-l), July 29, 1960; 

277 illus, 307, 320, 322 
 

Mercury-Atlas 2 (MA-2), Feb. 21, 1961; 

275-279 passim, 294, 305, 307, 308, 316­

322 passim 
 

Mercury-Atlas 3 (MA-3) (aborted), Apr. 

25, 1961; 331, 335-337 passim, 413 
 

Mercury-Atlas 4 (MA-4) (unmanned, 

orbital), Sept. 13, 1961; 335, 337, 381, 

386- 390 passim, 413 
 

Mercury-Atlas 5 (MA-5) (Enos), Nov. 

29, 1961; 397-409 passim, 419, 428, 440 

665 
 
May 24, 1962 (Atlas 107D); 141, 440, 
 

441, 445- 460 passim, 461, 496 
 

Mercury-Atlas 8 (MA-8) (Schirra), Oct. 
 

3, 1962; 461-486 passim 
 

Mercury-Atlas 9 (MA-9) (Cooper), May 
 

15- 16, 1963; 489-503 passim, 506, 507, 
 

508 
 

Mercury-Atlas 10 (MA-I0), 492, 501, 503, 
 

506 
 

Mercury-Redstone program, 155, 172, 173, 
 

174, 184, 185, 186, 240, 246, 249, 257, 
 

258, 289 ill us, 306, 310, 313, 322, 323, 
 

328,330,342,347,352,364,365,377,378 
 

Mercury-Redstone Booster Development 
 

(MR-BD) Mar. 24, 1961 ; 324,325, 326, 
 

328, 329, 330 
 

Mercury-Redstone 1 (MR-l) (abort) , 
 

Nov_ 21, 1960; 290, 292, 293, 294, 295, 
 

296, 297, 299, 300 
 

Mercury-Redstone lA (MR-IA), Dec. 19, 
 

1960; 296- 299, 301, 305, 310, 318, 324, 
 

328 
 

Mercury-Redstone 2 (MR-2) (Ham), Feb. 
 

21, 1960 (spacecraft No_ 5), 296, 297, 
 

299, 301, 305, 310-318 passim, 320, 323, 
 

324, 328, 329, 345-348 passim, 367 
 

Mercury-Redstone 3 (MR-3) (Shepard), 
 

May 5, 1961 (spacecraft No.7), 141, 
 

262, 289, 290, 295, 296, 324, 330, 331, 
 

337, 341-361 passim, 365, 367, 369 
 

Mercury-Redstone 4 (MR-4) (Grissom), 
 

July 21, 1961 (spacecraft No. 11),365­

377 passim, 423, 474 
 

Mercury-Redstone 5 (MR-5), 325, 377 
 

Mercury-Redstone 6 (MR-6), 377 
 

Mercury-Scout (MS), Nov. 1, 1961; 
 

381, 390, 392-397 passim 
 

One-Day Mission plan revived, 487, 492 
 

priorities, 135, 136 
 

quality assurance, 507 
 

research, 33, 46 
 

termination, 503, 505, 506 
 

Mercury-Redstone (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project), 181, 263, 268, 288, 289, 292, 294, 
 

296,297,385 
 

Mercury-Redstone 1 (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project), 186, 244, 258, 289, 290, 292, 293, 
 

294, 295, 296-299, 300, 580 fn 97 
 

Mercury-Redstone lA (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project), 296, 297, 299, 301, 305, 310, 318, 
 

324,342 
 

Mercury-Redstone 2 (see also under Mercury, 
 

Project) , 288, 290, 292, 296, 310-318 passim, 
 

320, 323, 324, 345-348 passim, 367, 400, 561 
 

fn 59, 574 fn 26, 575 fn 36, 591 fn 17 
 

Mercury-Redstone 2A_ See under Mercury 
 

Redstone Booster Development 
 

666 
 

24, 583 fn 46, 584 fn 57, 591 fn 16 
 

l\lercury-Redstone 5 (see also under Mercury, 

Project), 325, 377 
 

Mercury-Redstone 6 (see also under Mercury, 

Project), 377 
 

Mercury-Redstone Booster Development (MR­
 

BD) (see also under Mercury, Project), 

324, 325, 326, 328-330 passim 
 

Mercury Scientific Experiments Panel, 444 
 

Mercury-Scout (see also under Mercury, Proj­
 

ect) , 381, 390, 392-397 passim, 396 illus, 587 

fn 28, 588 fn 30 
 

Mercury Summary Conference, 506-507 
 

l\lercury Tracking Network (see also under 

Tracking network), 146, 214, 215, 217, 383, 
 

392, 496-497 
 

Merritt Island . See under Cape Canaveral 
 

Mershon, F. E., 123, 124 
 

Meson, John K., 608 
 

Messerschmidt, 171 
 

Meteor, 415, 527 fn 50 
 

Meteorite, 49, 61, 527 fn 50, 530 fn 21 
 

Meteoroid, 48, 49, 52, 286, 527 fns 50, 51 
 

Mexico, 217, 389, 499 
 

l\leyer, Andre J., Jr., 96, 121, 139, 140, 206, 

251, 260, 489, 539 fns 14, 16, 543 fn 19, 608 
 

l\leyer, W. R., 539 fn 16 
 

Miami, Fla., 346 
 

Michela, Michael, 592 fn 3 
 

Michigan State Univ., 539 fn 9 
 

Michoud Operations, 391 
 

Michoud Plant, 391 
 

Micrometeoroid, 49, 286 
 

MIDAS, 155, 156, 567 fn 38 
 

:Midway Island, 464, 501, 600 fn 37 
 

Midway Laboratories, 536 fn 67 
 

Miles, Marvin G., 361, 567 fn 45 
 

Military Defense Alarm System. See under 

MIDAS 
 

Milky Way, 414 
 

Miller, George P., 436 
 

Miller, J. E., 249 
 

Miller, Robert R., 201, 244, 560 fns 44, 46, 

608 
 

Million-pound-thrust engine, 79, 99 
 

Mil/yet, 361 
 

Mindanao, Philippine Islands, 481 
 

Minitrack, 146 
 

Minneapolis, Minn., 334 
 

Minneapolis-Honeywell Regulator Co., 157, 194, 

197, 201, 376, 552 fn 56 
 

Minners, Howard A., 458, 471, 472, 608 
 

Minnesota, 333 
 

Minuteman, 121, 135, 522 fn 79, 567 fn 38 
 

Miss Sam (monkey), 212, 213 
 

"Missile Gap," 28, 264, 284, 285 
 
64 passim, 70, 72, 73, 78, 79, 90, 117, 
 

118, 120, 122, 123, 522 fn 78, 533 fn 16, 
 

557 fn 1 
 

development, 21, 22, 25 
 

description, 25, 26, 61 
 

first successful flight, 72 
 

Atlas A, 26 
 

Atlas B, 26 
 

Atlas C, 26 
 

Atlas D, 26 
 

Atlas 10-B, 126 
 

Bomarc, 153, 520 fn 52 
 

Cobra, 520 fn 52 
 

Gor~on, 520 fn 52 
 

Hermes, 21 
 

Hermes C- l, 21 
 

HIROC,22 
 

Hound Dog, 520 fn 58 
 

ICBM, 22, 23, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 59, 60, 63, 
 

64, 69, 70, 72, 73, 90, 91, 96, 102, 117, 122, 
 

134, 156, 175 
 

JRBM, 25, 27, 99 
 

Jupiter, 25, 27, 53, 63, 64, 79, 99, 118, 122, 
 

123, 521 fn 69, 523 fn 92, 557 fn 1 
 

Jupiter C, 29, 30, 31, 63, 64, 66, 76, 523 fns 
 

92,93 
 

Loon, 520 fn 52 
 

Matador, 520 fn 52 
 

Minuteman, 121, 135, 522 fn 79, 567 fn 38 
 

MX-774, 22, 175 
 

MX-1593,22 
 

Navaho, 21, 24 illus, 520 fn 58, 557 fn I 
 

Plover, 520 fn 52 
 

Polaris, 25, 27, 64, 65, 79, 127, 135, 285, 509, 
 

557 fn 1,567 fn 38 
 

Redstone, 21, 22, 26, 29, 63, 64, 118, 122, 123, 
 

523 fn 91,557 fn 1 
 

Regulus, 520 fn 52 
 

Snark, 520 fn 52 
 

T-l, 18,28 
 

T-3,28 
 

Thor, 23, 24 illus, 25, 26, 27, 62, 63, 64, 70, 
 

78, 79, 90, 118, 122, 123, 127, 521 fn 69, 
 

533 fn 16, 557 fn 1 
 

Titan, 26, 43, 63, 78, 90, 264, 285, 305, 522 
 

fn 78, 557 fn 1, 572 fn 8 
 

Titan 1,25 
 

V-I, 19, 170, 171, 519 fn 55, 520 fn 52 
 

V-2, 17, 19, 20, 21, 22, 28,34,3-7, 40, 56, 520 
 

fn 55 
 

WAC Corporal, 19 
 

Missiles and Rockets, 281, 284 
 

Mission Control Center, 313, 509 
 

Missouri, ISO, 379 
 

Mitch, Duane, 400 
 

Mockup, 72 
 

Moffett Field, Calif., 9, 587 fn 20 
 

Mojave Desert, Calif., 11,477 
 

Moore, Joseph A., 320 
 

Morehead Planetarium, 241, 416 
 

Morgan, Frank G., Jr., 170.227,608 
 

Morse, Archibald E., Jr., 270 
 

Moscow, U.S.S.R., 330,331,332 
 

Moseley, W. c., Jr., 544 fn 27, 608 
 

Mosely, J. D., 291, 292, 313 
 

Moser, Jacob,201, 270, 275 
 

Motor (see also under Booster, Engine, Mis­


sile, and Rocket and names 0/ each), 94, 
 

123, 124, 125 
 

Algol,395 
 

Altair, 395 
 

Antares, 395 
 

Casto~ 125,326,338,395 
 

Pollux, 125,209,212 
 

Recruit, 124, 125, 141, 209, 326 
 

Sergeant, 94, 123 
 

Moulton, Forrest R., 216 
 

Mount Whitney, Calif., 477 
 

Mozambique Channel, 280, 595 fn 74 
 

MR-BD (see also under Mercury-Redstone 
 

Booster Development and Mercury, Project), 
 

324, 325, 326, 328- 330 passim, 348, 353, 580 
 

fn 97 
 

Mrazek, William A., 578 fn 78 
 

MSFC. See under Marshall Space Flight 
 

Center 
 

Muchea, Australia, 401, 405, 428, 431, 449, 452, 
 

475,476-477,495,499,586 fn 15 
 

Mueller, George E., 510 illus 
 

Muhly, William c., 145, 539 fn 16, 544 fn 33, 
 

608 
 

Mulac, Robert W., xv 
 Mulin, Robert, 433 
 

"Multi-directional G protection," 42, 43 
 

Multiple Axis Space Test Inertial Facility 
 

(MASTIF), 243 illus, 244, 245 
 

Murray, Arthur, 11,35,58 
 

Mushka (dog) ,300 
 

MX-774 project, 22 
 

MX-1593 project, 22 
 

NACA. See under National Advisory Com­ mittee for Aeronautics 
 

Nagler, Kenneth M., 346,366 illus 
 

Nagy, Alex P., 608 
 

NASA. See under National Aeronautics and 
 

Space Administration 
 

NASC. See under National Aeronautics and 
 

Space Council 
 

National Academy of Sciences, vi, 76, 77, 217, 
 

325 
 

National Advisory Committee for Aeronautics 
 

(NACA), 33,112,114,117,119,149, 150, 
 

152, 160, 174, 306 
 

accepts Air Force collaboration, 70, 74, 81, 86 
 

667 
 
broadens scope, 31, 55, 59, 66, 74, 76 
 

budget, 8, 10, 56 
 

Committee on Aerodynamics, 56,58, 75 
 

space flight resolution, 56, 75 
 

urges "aggressive program," 75 
 

Committee on Aircraft, Missile and Space­


craft Aerodynamics, 84, 87 
 

Conference on High-Speed Aerodynamics, 
 

86,87,89,95, 102,529 fn 5 
 

contributions to aircraft industry, 10, 55, 56 
 

Distinguished Service Medal, 61 
 

early history, 6, 9, 11 
 

established,6 
 

Executive Committee, 56, 58 
 

approves space Aight resolution, 56, 58 
 

facilities, 10,64 
 

Korean war, 10, 56 
 

Main Committee, 6, 8, 9, 55, 63, 75, 76, 83, 
 

106,516 fn 15,533 fn 2 
 

proposes $200 million expansion, 77 
 

nucleus of space program, 57, 59, 82, 83, 
 

89,98, 102, 117 
 

"phase-out," 99 
 

postpones Air Force agreement, 74, 83 
 

research programs, 9, 11, 37, 43, 46, 55, 56, 
 

57, 64, 66, 69, 74--79 passim, 127, 516 
 

fn 10 
 

heatshield, 59, 61, 66, 95, 127 
 

manned space Aight, 69 
 

rocket aircraft, 56-58 
 

Special Committee on Jet Propulsion, 9 
 

Special Committee on Space Technology, 75, 
 

533 fn 2 
 

established, 75 
 

Steering Committee, 81 
 

termination, 106, 110 
 

X-IS project, 57,58,59,101 
 

National Aeronautical and Space Board, 83, 
 

98 
 

National Aeronautics and Space Act, 97, 98, 
 

101,110 
 

National Aeronautics and Space Administra­


tion (NASA), xi, 126, 132, 133,138,150, 
 

151, 155, 175, 177, 178, 191, 197-198, 
 

199-201, 248, 256, 257, 264, 276, 293, 299, 
 

301, 32~ 33~ 34~ 35~ 36~ 40~ 49~ 508, 
 

509 
 

Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating 
 

Board, 284 
 

agreements with DOD, 117, 129, 135, 175, 
 

187, 284, 401 
 

astronaut, 46, 131, 161, 164, 238, 255, 349 
 

budget, 99, 101, 102, 106, 116, 224, 250, 
 

326, 335, 362, 365, 438, 470 
 

Distinguished Service Medal, 362, 584 fn 56 
 

established, v, 97-99, 112 
 

facility, 159, 220, 363, 391-392, 401 
 

412, 436 
 

contract, 265 
 

proposed, 121, 122, 137 
 

Aight plans, 126, 212-213, 260 
 

interagency relationships, 129, 230, 268, 

299 
 

organization, 117, 253, 271, 397, 487 
 

program direction, 140, 151, 153, 167­

168, 179-183, 185-186, 201, 213-214, 219, 

248, 219, 251, 266, 292, 294, 299, 300, 

307, 308, 320, 322-323, 328, 363, 364, 

379, 392-395, 402, 419, 441-442, 460, 

466 
 

interagency problems, 154, 156, 170, 265, 

305- 309, 409, 507 
 

Manned Satellite Panel (with ARPA), 106

110, Ill, 120, 122, 129 
 

organization, 99, 106, 112, 113-116, 119 
 

policy, 118, 153, 232, 260, 325, 338, 378, 506 

priorities, 135, 136 
 

responsible for space programs, 36-37, 43, 

101, 105-106 
 

Source Selection Board, 122, 137 
 

Special Committee on Life Sciences, 120 
 

X-IS, 57- 58, 170 
 

National Aeronautics and Space Council 

(NASC), 98, 135, 304, 308, 350, 391, 536 

fn 79 
 

National Bureau of Standards, 6, 9, 529 fn 5 

National Institute of Mental Health, 232, 244 

National Institutes of Health, 441 
 

National Leprosarium, 86 
 

National Rocket Club, 594 fn 52 
 

National Science Foundation, 76, 129 
 

National Security Council, 135 
 

National Security Council Planning Board, 92 

National Space Establishment, 77 
 

Navaho, 21, 24 ill us, 520 fn 58, 557 fn 1 
 

Naval-Air Force Parachute Facility, 198 
 

Naval Amphibious Base, Va., 241 
 

Naval Ordnance Test Station, Calif., 291 
 

Naval Research Laboratory. See under U.S. 

Navy 
 

Navigation, 413, 476-477 
 

Navy. See under U.S. Navy 
 

Neice, Stanford E., 66, 68, 69 
 

Nelson, Clifford H., 209 
 

Nelson, Richard c., 225 
 

Nesbitt, W. J., 539 fn 16 
 

Nesmeyanov, A. N., 28 
 

Nestle Co., 449 
 

Network status monitor, 297 
 

Neumann, Howard, 320 
 

Nevada, 299 
 

New Concord, 0.,435 
 

New Frontier, 284 
 

New Guinea, 280 
 

New Hampshire, 98 
 

668 
New York Yankees, 472 
 

Newell, Homer E., 414, 443 
 

Newport Beach, Calif., 393, 395 
 

Newport News, Va., 391 
 

Newsweek, 381 
 

Newton, Sir Isaac,S, 216, 511 
 

Nigeria, 217, 448, 474 
 

Nikolayev, Andrian G., 462, 489, 506 
 

Nininger, H. H., 61, 62,530 fn 21 
 

Ni,en, John, 608 
 

Nixon, Richard M., 284 
 

Noise, 265, 273, 385 
 

Norfolk, Va., 113, 241, 284 
 

Norman, R. J., 580 fn 8 
 

North, Gilbert B., 149 illus, 193, 227, 228, 230, 
 

237 
 

North, Warren J., 106, 113, 122, 129, 131, 149, 
 

161,163,193,230,238,260,276,283,299,327, 
 

335, 366 illus, 392, 393, 394, 553 fn 78, 571 fn 
 

80,608 
 

North American Aviation, Inc., vi, 21, 25, 27, 
 

58, 66, 78, 93, 99, 1I8, 121, 124, 157, 170, 
 

213, 241, 600 fn 39 
 

Little Joe airframe, 124, 152, 209 
 

X-IS, 58,66, 78 
 

North Carolina, 416 
 

Northrop Corp., 78, 121 
 

Nose cone, 33, 59, 60, 62-66 passim, 69, 70, 79, 
 

80,9~,99, 127 
 

"Numbers game," 266, 267, 269 
 

Nunemaker, Robert R., 287,560 fn 46 
 

Oak Ridge Institute of Nuclear Studies, 309 
 

Oak Ridge National Laboratory, 511 
 

Oakley, Ralph B., xv, 608 
 

Oberth, Hermann, 13, 16, 17 illus 
 

Odishaw, Hugh, 325 
 

Office of Manned Satellites (NASA), 113 
 

Office of Manned Space Flight (NASA), 113, 
 

487 
 

Office of Naval Research. See under United 
 

State Navy 
 

Office of Reliability and Systems Analysis 
 

(NASA), 266 
 

Office of Space Flight Programs (NASA) , 113 
 

Office of Space Sciences (NASA), 489 
 

"Off-the-pad" abort, 294 
 

Ohio, 10, 38, 39, 70, 1I3, 161, 163 
 

O'Keefe, John A., 444, 452,489 
 

Oklahoma, 309, 499 
 

Oklahoma City, Okla., 334 
 

"Old Reliable," 172, 310, 318 
 

Olling, Edward H" 225, 227, 557 fn 8, 608 
 

Omaha, N ebr., 65 
 

O'Malley, Thomas J., 200, 321, 416 illus 
 

Operations Division (STG), 169, 252, 253 
 

Oradell, N.J., 486 
 

Ould, J. Wallace, 587 fn 20, 608 
 

Ozma, Project, 492 
 

P2V (Neptune ) , 203, 297, 312, 316, 456 
 

P5M,406 
 

Pacific Coast, 43 
 

Pacific Missile Ranl!;e, 199, 216, 428 
 

Pacific Ocean, 22, 279, 281, 399, 428, 449, 464, 
 

479, 481, 495, 497, 501 
 

Pad abort, 141, 505 
 

Page, Robert M., 189, 593 fn 33 
 

Palmer, John c., 209, 326 
 

Palo Alto, Calif., 65 
 

Panel on In-Flight Scientific Experiments 
 

(POISE), 489 
 

Pan American, 200 
 

Paolini, A. M., 254 
 

Paperclip, Project, 17, 17 illus 
 

Parachute (see also under Spacecraft), 72, 
 

124, 128, 198, 213, 273, 570 fn 71 
 

drogue, 128, 143, 198, 199,209, 295 illus, 372, 
 

386, 389, 543 fn 16, 590 fn 64, 597 fn 100 
 

landing, 134, 143, 198, 327, 331, 377 
 

main, 128, 143, 198, 209, 315, 337, ~f)2, 372, 
 

386, 389, 399, 577 fn 71, 586 fn 16, 590 ins 
 

62, 64, 597 fn 100 
 

personnel, 198 
 

PARD. See under Pilotless Aircraft Research 
 

Division 
 

Paris, France, 6, 264 
 

Parsons, John F., 364, 390 
 

Patillo, W. H., 580 fn 8 
 

Patrick Air Force Base, Fla., 204, 252, 278 
 

Patterson, Herbert G., 261, 539 fn 16, 544 fn 
 

28,608 
 

Patton, Earl, 393 
 

Paul, Hans G., 181 
 

Pchelka (dog), 300 
 

Pearce, Fred T., 598 fn II, 608 
 

Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, 9, 28, 464 
 

Pearson, Albin 0., 142, 608 
 

Peenemuende, Germany, 16, 17, 18, 174,519 fn 
 

45 
 

Penkovsky, Oleg, 522 fn 78 
 

Pennsylvania, 332 
 

Pensacola, Fla., 39, 235, 244 
 

Pensacola Naval Air Station, 241, 416, 591 fn 
 

17 
 

Pentagon, 27, 73, 100, 129, 131, 174, 265, 306, 
 

320 
 

Pepping, Raymond A., 119, 138, 540 fn 25, 608 
 

Periscope (se e also under Spacecraft), 351, 
 

353, 355-356, 372, 596 fn 82 
 

Perkin-Elmer Co., 157, 260 
 

Perkins, Kendall, 191, 540 fn 25, 552 fn 52, 608 
 

Perth, Australia, 428,495, 593 fn 39 
 

Peru, 361 
 

669 
 
Phecta Ursae Majoris, 452 
 

Philippine Islands, 481 
 

Philadelphia, Pa., 227, 230, 442 
 

Philadelphia Navy Hospital, 441 
 

Philco Corp., 254 
 

Phillips, Franklyn W., 176 illus 
 

Picard, C. F., 252 
 

Piccard, Auguste, 47, 556 fn 1 
 

Piccard, Jacques, 47, 556 fn 1 
 

Piccard, Jean, 114 
 

Pickering, William H., 76 
 

Pierce, John R., 174 
 

Pigs, 143 
 

Piland, Joseph V., 252, 561 fn 62, 608 
 

Piland, Robert 0., 65, 152,251, 252,257, 561 fn 
 

62,608 
 

Pillsbury Co., 449 
 

Pilotless Aircraft Research Divi~ion (PARD) 
 

(LMAL) (see also under Langley Memorial 
 

Aeronautical Laboratory), 10, 11, 43, 55, 65, 
 

71, 72, 84, 85, 86, 94, 95, 96, 102, 105, 251 
 

Pilotless Aircraft Research Station, 10, 55, 56, 
 

63,85 
 

Pioneer program, 52 
 

Pioneer Ill, 52, 133 
 

Pioneer IV, 136 
 

Pioneer V, 248, 567 fn 38 
 

Piper Apache, 456 
 

Pitcairn Island, 497 
 

Pittman, C. L., 189,593 fn 33 
 

Planform, 78 
 

Plasma sheath, 127, 455 
 

Plohr, H. Warren, 201, 553 fn 74, 608 
 

Plover, 520 fn 52 
 

Point Arguello, Calif., 401, 402, 404, 406, 453, 
 

481, 586 f n 15 
 

Point Lorna, Calif., 22 
 

Polaris, 25, 27. 64, 65, 79, 127, 135, 285, 509, 
 

557 fn 1, 567 fn 38 
 

Polaris Task Group, 65 
 

Pollard, Richard A., 484 
 

Pollux, 125, 209, 212 
 

Polynesian ArchipelalSo, 495 
 

Popovich, Pavel R., 462,489,506 
 

Port (s ee also under Spacecraft), 367, 382 
 

Port Elizabeth, South Africa, 480 
 

Posigrade rocket, 105, 188,265, 287, 295, 33], 
 

360, 367, 371, 384, 426, 560 fn 46, 585 fn 6, 
 

599 fn 27 
 

Post, Wiley, 47, 230 
 

Postflight dehriefing, 345 
 

Postflight physical. See under Aerospace 
 

Medicine 
 

Potomac River,S, 421 
 

Powell, H. W., 307 
 

Powell, Harry R. , 175, 180, 183, 187 
 

Power, Thomas S., 69, 70 
 

670 
 

g, , , , , 

310,320, 342-343 
 

Preflight Operations Division (STG), 270 
 

President's Science Advisory Committee 

(PSAC>, 82, 83, 252,268,306,325,347,348, 

534 fn 28, 577 fn 57 
 

Press Site 2, 421 illus 

Pressure couch, 399, 400 
 

Pressure suit, 47, 49, 162, 225, 228, 229 illus, 

231, 28~ 34~ 350-351, 35~ 36~ 387, 416, 

474-475,476 
 

design, 225 
 

development, 225, 445, 467 
 

glove, 230,368,373 
 

helmet, 230, 359, 368, 372, 373, 455, 480, 

500 
 

Mark IV g-suit, 230, 231 
 

X-IS flying suit, 231 
 

Preston, G. Merritt, 252, 253, 268, 270, 299, 

369, 382, 388 illus, 393, 445, 465, 466, 467, 

608 
 

Procedures trainer (see also under Astronaut), 

21~ 241, 291, 343, 34~ 353, 35~ 365, 371 
 

Program Evalllation and Review Technique 

(PERT), 509 
 

Protection, Inc., 241 
 

PSAC. See under President's Science Advisory Committee 
 

Puerto Rico, 471, 597 fn 103 
 

Purcell, Edward, 82, 572 fn 7 
 

Purdue Univ., 235 
 

Purser, Paul E., xiv, 65, 66, 69, 72, 85, 89, 94, 

105, 115, 122, 123, 140, 151, 191, 199, 214, 

235,249,252,256,258,261,267,300,307,308, 

318,377,387,389,392,393,394,488 illus,535 

fn 35, 536 fn 61, 537 fn 94, 572 fn 9, 573 

fn 23, 577 fn 22, 578 fn 80, 590 fn 63, 594 

fn 64, 605, 608 
 

Putnam, William D. xv, 559 fn 32, 608 
 

Putt, Donald L., 73, 74, 81 
 

Pyrotechnics, 265, 273, 274, 287, 295, 296, 

360, 586 f n 12 
 

Qualification test, 265, 268, 272, 3]0. 335 

Quality control (see also under Reliability 

analyses and predictions), 178, 191, 255, 258, 

260, 268 
 

Quarles. Donald A., 100, 101 
 

Quito, Ecuador, 481 
 

Rabb, Leonard, 206, 539 fn 16 
 

Radar, 216, 387 
 

Radiation, 49, 52, 167,385, 399, 418, 467, 497, 

500 
 

cosmic, 49, 50, 51, 52, 506 
 

nuclear powerplant, 52 
 
x-ray, 52 
 

Radio-inertial guidance system, 26 
 

Radioplane Division (Northrop CorpJ, 143, 
 

157, 260 
 

Raines, Martin L, 129, 252 
 

Ramjet, 21, 86 
 

Ramo, Simon, 521 fn 68 
 

Ramo Wooldridge Corp_, 23, 25, 81, 93, 521 
 

fn 68, 546 fn 68 
 

Guided Missiles Research Division (see also 
 

under Space Technology Laboratories), 23 
 

Rand Corp _, 23, 28, 48, 69, 70, 540 fn 29 
 

military space conce pts, 69, 70 
 

satellite research, 20, 69 
 

Randt, Clark T_, 256 
 

Randolph Air Force Base, Tex_, 34, 38, 39, 
 

525 fn 24 
 

Range Safety Officer, 220, 311, 382 
 

Raper, James R., 141 
 

Rashis, Bernard, 608 
 

Rate Stabilization Control System (RSCS), 
 

195, 197, 198, 234, 367, 376, 399, 482, 490 
 

Raven Industries, 50 
 

RCA Service Co., 159 
 

RCS. See lInder Reaction Control System 
 

Reaction Control System (RCS), 195,197,265, 
 

269, 271, 278, 331, 342, 382, 463, 580 fn 97, 
 

584 fn 55,586 fn 15 
 

Recorder (see also under Spacecraft), 385, 
 

398, 402 
 

Recovery, 128,275 
 

Recovery aids 
 

dyemarker, 399, 445, 456, 483 
 

helicopter, 316, 322, 327, 346, 357, 372-377 
 

passim, 483 
 

flashing light, 386, 389 
 

fluorescein dye, 357, 386 
 

radar chaff,399,445 
 

sarah beacon, 322, 406, 445, 456 
 

sofar bomb, 203, 330, 386, 445, 586 fn 10 
 

Stullken collar, 483 
 

Recovery area, 385, 399, 586 fns 9, 12, 16 
 

Recovery forces, 312, 315, 322, 345, 347, 356, 
 

360,381,383,386,419,420,455-459 passim, 
 

469,583 fn 49, 586 fn 9, 590 fns 63, 67, 591 
 

fns17,18 

training, 373, 418, 419 
 

Recovery loop, 373 
 

Recovery operations, 265, 312, .'316, 322, 327, 
 

331,341,34.5,372- 375 passim 
 

Recovery ship, 312, 327, 358, 369, 501 
 

Recruit, 124, 12.5, 141,209,326 
 

Redstone, 21, 22, 26, 29, 63, 64, 99, 118, 122­

125 passim, 139, 141, 157, 159, 161, 171, 
 

172, 174, 180, 181, 184, 185, 187, 235, 237, 
 

257, 258, 265, 27~ 27~ 283, 293- 296 passim, 
 

310-313 passim, 315, 320, 323, 324, 328- 331 
 

Reentry 
 

heating, 59, 60, 61, 63, 64, 65, 68, 69, 89 
 

stress, 42,80, 316 
 

Reentry vehicle (RVX- 2), 200 
 

Rees, Eberhard F. M., 17 illus, 257, 323, 584 

fn 56 
 

Regulus. See under Missiles 
 

Reichelderfer, Francis W., 346 
 

Reid, Henry J. E., 56, 57, 114, 121, 529, fns 7, 

8 
 

Reinhard, John, 373, 375 
 

Reitter, L. M., 608 
 

Reliability, 97, 167, 168, 172, 174, 176, 178­

184 passim, 187, 189, 193, 194, 197, 198, 

199, 209, 223, 226-227, 246, 247, 255-259 

passim, 265, 267, 283, 287, 323, 324, 328, 

334,348,385 
 

Reliability analyses and predictions (s ee also 

under Quality Control), 106, 179, 180, 

182,265-271 passim, 331 
 

for Atlas boosters, 106, 199, 259, 347, 553 

fn 79,588 fn 34 
 

for Mercury-Atlas flight, 331, 337 
 

Reller, John 0.,89 
 

Rene 41, 193, 206,259 
 

Republic Ayiation Corp., 78, 121 
 

Research (s ee also LInder Wind tunnels, Cen­


trif uge, Aerospace medicine, and Rocket: 

research), 56 
 

aerodynamic heating, 57, 59,60, 63, 64, 65 
 

schlieren photography, 60 
 

Research and Development Board, 60 
 

Retalliata, John T. , 176 illus 
 

Retrofire sequence, 87, 300, 368, 372, 389, 596 

fns 87, 93 
 

Retropack. See under Spacecraft 
 

Retrorocket (sre also under Spacecraft), 128, 

134, 188, 201, 206, 265, 287, 295, 311, 326, 

327, 334, 355, 372, 389 
 

Reynolds, Osborne, 6 
 

Rhode, Richard V., 299, 300,307,308,318,320, 

573 fns 15, 17,608 
 

Rhode-Worthman Committee, 299, 300, 307, 

308, 318 
 

Rice Univ., ii, 390, 470, 471 illus, 486, 587 

fn 20, 599 fn 21 
 

Richmond, Va., 587 fn 20 
 

Ricker, Harry H., J r., 115, 299 
 

Rink, Richard A., 457 
 

Ritland, Osmond J., 174, 175, 255, 307, 321, 

572 fn 8, 609 
 

Roadman, Charles H., 441 
 

Robert, Frank c., 539 fn 16 
 

Roberts, A. 0., 580 fn 8 
 

Roberts, Tecwyn, 297, 299, 314, 403, 575 fn 37, 

609 
 

RochforJ, AI, 229 illus 

Rockefeller, Nelson B., 82, 83 
 

671 
 
51,53,286 
 

escape, 96,315, 326, 327,331, 360, 560 fn 46, 
 

586 fn 9 
 

gunpowder, 13 
 

history, 13, 14, 16, 17 
 

posigrade, 105, 188, 265, 287, 295, 331, 360, 
 

367, 371, 384, 387, 426, 560 fn 46, 585 fn 
 

6,599 fn 27 
 

research, 51 86 
 

Aerobee,19, 20,37,38,39,40,49 
 

Aerobee-Hi,20 
 

Hermes, 21 
 

JATO, 16, 139 
 

Thor-Able, 42, 53 
 

WAC Corporal, 19 
 

X-17,63 
 

retrograde, 80, 87, 105, 121, 311, 315, 326, 
 

327, 331, 334, 360, 372, 560 fn 46 
 

Sergeant, 94, 123, 125 
 

sled, 291 
 

sounding, 14, 19, 33, 37, 49, 117, 263, 467, 
 

539 fn 18 
 

Aerobee, 29 
 

Viking, 19,20,29,520 fn 57 
 

Rocket Into InterpLanetary Space, The, 16 
 

Rockingham, Australia, 428 
 

Rockoon, 50 
 

Rocky (chimpanzee), 400 
 

Roe, A. V., Co., 153 
 

Rogallo, Francis M., 198 
 

Roman, Nancy G., 414 
 

Roosevelt administration, 8 
 

Roosevelt Roads, P.R., 456, 457 
 

Rose, James T., 288, 393, 587 fn 26, 609 
 

Rose Knot Victor, 147 illus 
 

Rose, Rodney G., 292, 318, 349, 609 
 

Rosenbaum, Mortimer, 118 
 

Rosenberg, Max, xv, 546 fn 68 
 

Rosenberry, 1. W., 268 
 

Rosenthal, Alfred, xv 
 

Rosholt, Robert L., 261, 609 
 

Ross, Malcolm D., 50, 528 fn 63 
 

Rossi, Bruno B., 572 fn 7 
 

Roswell, N. Mex., 15 illus 
 

Round Three Conference, 71, 72, 78, 532 fns 
 

52,54 
 

RSCS. See under Rate Stabilization and Control System 
 

Ruff, George E., 161,370 
 

Russell, Bertrand, 165 
 

Russia. See under Union of Soviet Socialist 
 

Republics 
 

Russians (see also under Union of Soviet 
 

Socialist Republics), 18, 264, 284, 332-335 
 

passim, 349, 378 
 

RVX-2 (reentry vehicle) , 200 
 

672 
 

Samosata, 3, 132 
 

Samonski, Frank H., 227, 474, 475, 596 fn 81, 
 

609 
 

SAMOS, 567 fn 38 
 

San Antonio, Tex., 34, 47, 241, 441, 442, 444 
 

San Clemente Island, 477 
 

San Diego, Calif., 22, 175, 187, 241, 278, 307, 
 

318, 320,399, 446, 490, 587 fn 20 
 

San Francisco, Calif., 9, 68,587 fn 20 
 

San Salvador, 455 
 

Sandahl, Carl A., 94, 152, 609 
 

Sanders, Newell, 113 
 

Sanderson, Alan H., 609 
 

Sanger, Eugen, 519 fn 45,531 fn 36 
 

Santa Monica, Calif., 70 
 

Sarah beacon, 203 
 

Saratov, U.S.S.R., 332 
 

Satellite (U.S.) (see also under name 0/ 
 

each) 
 

Biosatellite, 102 
 

Discoverer I, 136 
 

Discoverer XIII, 279 
 

Discoverer XIV, 280 
 

Discoverer XVI I, 280 
 

Echo I, 280, 369, 478, 479, 567 fn 38 
 

Explorer I, 29, 49, 76, 79 
 

Explorer II, 523 fn 93 
 

Explorer III, 30 
 

Explorer V I, 49 
 

Flashing beacon, 495-496 
 

MIDAS, 155, 156, 567 fn 38 
 

Pioneer III, 52, 133 
 

Pioneer IV, 136 
 

Pioneer V, 248, 567 fn 38 
 

Telstar II, 492 
 

Tiros I, 248, 567 fn 38 
 

Tiros II, 248,346 
 

Transit I, 567 fn 38 
 

Vanguard I, 30 
 

Vanguard II, 136 
 

Vanguard III, 201, 218 
 

Vanguard program, 20,31, 76, 81, 82, 92, 97, 

99, 115, 135, 136 
 

Satellite (U.S.S.R.) (see also under name 0/ 

each), 52, 66, 75, 76, 91, 99, 109, 119 
 

Lunik I, 133 
 

Lunik II, 213 
 

Lunik III, 214, 221 
 

Mechta, 133 
 

Spacecraft IV (Korabl Sputnik IV), 325 
 

Spacecraft V (Korabl Sputnik V), 330 
 

Sputnik I, 48, 71, 72, 73, 83, 109, 119, 303, 

334 
 

Sputnik II, 28, 29, 37, 73, 75, 119 
 

Sputnik III, 30, 49, 323 
 

Sputnik IV, 323 
 

Sputnik V, 323 
 
Saunders, William, 429 
 

Savannah, Ga., 383 
 

Savarie, 10hn, 592 fn 33 
 

SC-54, 456 
 

Scheer, 1 ulian, 492 
 

Schirra, Walter 1\1., 1 r., (see also under Astro· 
 

naut), 160, 164, 164 illus, 173 illus, 228, 230, 
 

231,235,236 illus, 237,246,287,352,375,376, 
 

377, 402, 407, 418, 431, 440, 443, 460-486 
 

passim, 468 illus, 485 illus, 488 illus, 493 
 

illus, 494, 495, 496, 501, 582 fn 28, 583 fn 46, 
 

586 fn 15, 599 fn 27, 600 fn 30 
 

SchIer, 1\1ort, 227, 402 
 

Schlieren photography, 60, 142, 530 fn 16 
 

Schmitt, 10e W., 351, 422, 424 illus, 447, 472, 
 

498 illus 
 

Schock, Grover 1. D., 38 
 

School of Aviation Medicine. See under U.S. 
 

Air Force and U.S. Navy 
 

Schreiber, Carl, 137 
 

Schriever, Bernard A., 23, 27, 79, 92, 97, 102, 
 

521 fn 67 
 

Science (periodical), 491 
 

Science in Space, 325 
 

Scientific Advisory Board. See under U.S. Air 
 

Force 
 

Scientific Advisory Committee (Eisenhower ad­
 

ministration). See under PSAC 
 

Score, Project, 126 
 

Scout (see also under Mercury, Project), 86, 
 

152, 153, 392-397 passim 
 

Seamans, Robert C, 1r., 271, 300, 318,320,323, 
 

324, 326, 335, 337, 349, 362, 394, 395, 399, 
 

460, 501,503, 506, 510 illus, 572 fn 8, 573 fn 
 

16, 579 fn 90, 603 fns 61, 63, 609 
 

Seat, Robert L. , 256, 269, 562 fn 75, 565 fn 18, 
 

609 
 

Seattle, Wash., 237, 436 
 

SECO (Sustainer Engine Cutoff), 494 
 

Second World War. See under World War II 
 

Secretary of Commerce, 516 
 

Secretary of Defense, 29, 73, 77, 79, 135 
 

Secretary of the Air Force, 73, 97 
 

Secretary of the Army, 100 
 

Sedona, Ariz., 61 
 

Sedo~ Leonid,28,29 
 

See, Elliot M., 1r., 601 fn 50 
 

Seiff, Alvin, 95, 530 fn 16, 531 fn 32, 536 fn 66, 
 

609 
 

Senate of the United States, 83, 98, 99, 1l0, 
 

503 
 

Committee on Aeronautical and Space Sci­
 

ences, 309 
 

Preparedness Investigating Committee, 77 
 

Preparedness Subcommittee, 29, 98 
 

Special Committee on Space and Astronau­
 

tics, 83, 98 
 

Shawnee, Okla., 501 
 

Sheldon, Charles S., II, 536 fn 77,571 fn 2, 609 

Shepard, Alan B., Jr. (see also under Astronaut), xiii, 160, 164, 164 illus, 173 illus, 210, 

235, 237, 240, 245, 287, 288, 322, 341-343 

passim, 344 illus, 350-353 passim, 354 illus, 

355-363 passim, 358 illus, 361 illus, 365-371 

passim, 366 illus, 375-378 passim, 402, 414, 

415, 423, 426, 438 illus, 453, 479, 481, 489, 

493, 495, 562 fn 74, 575 fn 37, 577 fn 89, 

580 fns 2, 4, 581 fns 10, 17, 19, 25, 582 fns 

27, 28, 30, 583 fn 49, 584 fns 54, 56, 586 fn 

15, 593 fn 34, 609 
 

Shepherd's Crook, 373, 591 fn 18 
 

Shewmake, Glenn A., 231 
 

Shirkey, Retha, xv 
 

Shoemaker, Eugene M., 489 
 

Shortal, Joseph A., 65, 66, 94, 531 fn 31, 609 

Shoup, David, 431, 592 fn 22 
 

Shreveport, La., 587 fn 20 
 

Siepert, Albert F., 117 
 

Siesal, Henry, 609 
 

Sigma 7 (see also under Spacecraft and 

Mercury-Atlas 8), 461-486 passim, 485 illus 

Silverstein, Abe, 76, 84 illus, 87, 90, 112-118 

passim, 120, 122, 128, 132, 133, 135, 137, 138, 

140, 146, 148, 149, 150, 160, 163, 183, 224, 

238, 253, 257, 258, 260, 263, 267, 268, 269, 

271, 281, 288, 296, 299, 318, 323, 324, 325, 

335, 337, 377, 392, 393, 394, 487, 538 fn 8, 

539 fn 22, 546 fn 57, 565 fns 6, 22, 570 fn 

70, 573 fn 16, 578 fn 80, 587 fn 28, 609 
 

Simons, David G., 37, 38, 39, 50, 51, 52, 80, 

128, 216, 524 f n ll, 527 fn 59, 528 fns 63, 64, 

65, 534 fn 20, 555 fn 104, 609 
 

Simpkinson, Scott H., 155, 201, 207 illus, 252, 

253, 275, 383, 546 fn 62, 553 fns 75, 78, 

562 fn 72, 609 
 

Simpson, George L., xiv 
 

Simulator (see also under Astronaut), 65, 

399 
 

Sioux Falls, S. Dak., 50 
 

Sjoberg, Sigurd A., 246, 259, 273, 358, 464, 582 

fn 30,609 
 

Skinner, Francis 1., 609 
 

Skopinski, Ted H., 368 
 

Slattery, Bart 1., 1 r., 328 
 

Slayton, Donald K. (see also under Astro­


naut) , 160, 164, 164 illus, 173 illus, 177,229 

illus, 235, 352-353, 355, 358 ill us, 360, 366 

illus, 370, 402, 407, 418, 440, 441, 442, 4,52, 

462,471,473,475,476, 478, 480,493 illus, 547 

fn 72, 552 fn 54, 559 fn 33, 581 fn 25. 583 

fn 46, 594 fns 62-65, 609 
 

Sloan, Alfred P., Foundation, 491 
 

Smathers, George, 510 illus 
 

Smith, D. F., 47 
 

Smith, Francis B., 215, 216 
 

673 
 
Society of Experimental Test Pilots, 177, 215, 
 

582 fn 27 
 

Society for Space Travel, 16 
 

Sofar bomb, 203, 330, 386, 586 fn 10 
 

Sokol, Samuel, 152 
 

Solar flare, 52 
 

"Solar winds," 136 
 

Sonic barrier, 10, 11 
 

Soule, Hartley A., 71, 81, 95, 146, 159, 214-217 
 

passim, 435, 532 fn 54, 545 fn 37, 555 fn 101, 
 

556 fn 109,609 
 

Sounding rocket. See under Rocket 
 

Source Selection Board, 122, 137 
 

South America, 435,481, 497 
 

South Pacific, 499 
 

Soviet Academy of Sciences, 28, 300, 330 
 

Soviet Armed Forces, 18 ' 
 

Soviet Union. See under Union of Soviet 
 

Socialist Republics 
 

Soviets, 17, 18, 23, 119, 133, 213, 264, 309, 323, 
 

330,332,334,377,378,409 
 

Space Age, vi, 71, 75, 76, 98, 280, 510 
 

Space Biology Branch, 38, 50 
 

Space Board, 98 
 

"Space cabin simulator," 47, 48 
 

Space chamber, 269, 270 
 

Space Council. See under National Aeronau­


tics and Space Council 
 

Space Electronics Corp., 159 
 

Space equivalence altitude, 34, 35, 36, 51, 
 

116, 343 
 

"Space Fever," 284 
 

Space gap, 435 
 

"Space lag," 28, 379 
 

Space medicine. S ee under Aerospace medi­
 

cine 
 

Space race, 28, 53, 224, 281, 284, 303, 323, 
 

325, 330, 333, 361, 377, 411 
 

Space Science Board (NAS), 325 
 

Space Sciences Steering Committee (NASA), 
 

414 
 

Space suit. See under Pressure suit 
 

Space Systems Division (AFSC). See under 
 

U.S. Air Force 
 

"Space Task Force," 115 
 

Space Task Group (STG), 133-134,224,263, 
 

282,283,290,303,305 
 

astronaut, 346---349 
 

role, 177- 178, 238 
 

selection, 131-132, 159-165 
 

training, 235, 237, 240, 241, 342- 343, 442 
 

becomes Manned Spacecraft Center, 392 
 

booster, 151-153, 171-176, 178-190, 199- 202, 
 

205-213,300,307-308,383 
 

contractin~, 120-127, 150-151, 260, 261 
 

DOD relationship, 128--129, 135- 136, 154­

159 
 

early satellite studies, 116-120 
 

Flight Operations Division, 156 
 

Flight Systems Division, 169, 251, 254, 551 
 

fn 49 
 

flights, 203- 204, 209, 213, 272, 276, 291­

292, 294, 311-312, 318, 328, 330, 331, 367­

368, 370, 376- 377, 384, 389, 393-394, 400, 

402 
 

growth, 149-150,153,169-171,251- 253,268-­

269,363-365,508 
 

heatshield, 127-128, 138-141 
 

Life Systems Branch, 231, 597 fn 98 
 

McDonnell relationship, 138, 148,269-270, 
 

289 
 

Operations Division, 169, 252, 253 
 

Preflight Operations Division, 270 
 

reliability, 178--190, 193-199, 254--257, 259, 

265-268, 287, 322-324 
 

spacecraft design, 167-168, 193-199, 249­

250, 412-413 
 

tracking, 143, 146, 213-216 
 

Space Technology Laboratories (STL) (Ramo 

Wooldridge Corp.), 23, 25, 81, 93, 146, 157, 

174, 175, 180, 183, 184, 187, 189, 200, 

208, 216, 241, 255, 259, 272, 278, 308, 521 

fn 68, 549 fn 14, 585 fn 6, 593 fn 33 
 

oversees Air Force missile program, 23, 81 

Spacecra ft design, 86, 87, 89 
 

ballistic concepts, 46, 58, 68-72 passim, 74, 

81, 86, 87, 89, 93, 95, 102, 116, 118, 121 

basic Mercury, 503 
 

capsule, 94, 95, 102 
 

control system. 58, 66,87, 105 
 

couch, 43,46,96,97 
 

Dyna·Soar, 71, 74, 78, 100, 101, 102 
 

escape system, 96, 156 
 

glider concepts, 58, 68, 69, 70, ' 71, 72, 74, 

78, 89 
 

industry conference on, 121 
 

interplanetary, 58 
 

lift-drag ratio, 58, 68, 505 
 

~-1 c?ncept, ?,9, 72, 89 
 

man·lfi-a·can controversy, 72 
 

Mark II capsule concept, 26, 62, 64 
 

MER concept, 100, 101 
 

NACA Conference on High-Speed Aero· 

dynamics, 86, 87, 89, 95 
 

satellite concept, 58, 68,87,89 
 

shingling, 127 
 

skip-entry, 58, 67 
 

specifications, 121 
 

Spacecraft, Apollo, 436,505 
 

Spacecraft, Gemini, 436, 505 
 

Spacecraft, Mercury (see also under names 0/ 

each), 51, 95, 137 
 

abort system, 311, 320, 331 
 

antenna, 295 illus, 373 
 

Aurora 7. See also Mercury, Project, and 

Mercury·Atlas 7 
 

674 
 
voice,311,331,368,455,490 
 

telemetry, 33, 159, 321, 330, 331, 463, 490, 
 

495 
 

computer, 315 
 

confi~uration, 95 
 

control and stabilization, 58, 121 
 

attitude control, 87, 105, Ill, 311, 367, 
 

376, 413, 450, 552 fn 59 
 

automatic system, 157, 331, 448, 459, 463, 
 

474,552 fn 59 
 

fly-by-wire, 432, 448, 450, 453, 454, 473, 
 

474,481,501 
 

fuel, 430, 431, 453, 482 
 

gyroscope, 450, 496, 499 
 

horizon scanner, 430, 595 fn 81 
 

manual control, 331, 371, 376, 459 
 

manual-prop 0 rtional,371 
 

rate control, 367, 376, 482 
 

couch, 42, 43, 46, 315,367, 370, 373, 446, 466, 
 

490 
 

design, 95, 121, 503, 505 
 

development, 415, 445 
 

design, 95, 121,505 
 

ballistic concept, 95, 121 
 

environmental control system, 51, 80, 93, 
 

102, 157, 225, 227, 228, 230, 240, 241, 
 

270, 272, 273, 288, 292, 311, 315, 331, 
 

343, 370, 376, 382, 398, 399, 403-406 
 

passim, 412, 465, 586 fn 14 
 

cabinleakage,463,465 
 

cabin pressure, 313, 315, 316, 370, 558 
 

fn 21 
 

cabin temperature, 313, 370, 474, 475 
 

cooling system, 481 
 

oxygen supply, 430 
 

suit 
 

pressure, 558 fn 21 
 

temperature control, 314, 315, 370, 405, 
 

474, 475, 476, 480, 481, 484, 495, 497, 
 

500, 595 fn 81 
 

escape system, 96, 134, 139, 141, 156, 168, 
 

172, 187, 208, 210, 212, 235, 273, 292, 
 

315,337,350,384,505 
 

rocket, 96, 141, 168, 208, 210, 212, 213, 
 

224, 250, 261, 291, 294, 299, 313, 315, 
 

326,327,331,337 
 

tower, 96, 138, 199, 200, 272, 287, 293, 
 

296, 299, 321, 327, 331, 447, 448, 473 
 

Faith 7. See under Mercury, Project, and 
 

Mercury-Atlas 9 
 

flotation bag, 250,287 
 

flotation collar, 457, 483, 591 fn 17 
 

Freedom 7. See under Mercury, Project, 
 

and Mercury.Redstone 3 
 

Friendship 7. See under Mercury, Project, 
 

and Mercury-Atlas 6 
 

hatch, explosive, 365-367 passim, 373, 376­

377, 406, 423, 433, 446, 501 
 

landing bag, 311, 316, 318, 331. 429. 43~. 

436,445,455,459 
 

parachute, 124, 128, 134,315,327 
 

drogue, 128, 143,295 illus, 372, 432. 445. 
 

446,455,482 
 

landing, 128, 134, 143, 331, 372, 433, 
 

455, 483 
 

Liberty Bell 7. See under Mercury, Project, 

and Mercury-Redstone 4 
 

noise, 313, 328 
 

panel, instrument, 247 illus 
 

periscope, 157, 372, 413, 414, 423, 431, 433, 
 

445,448,465,466,475,476,490 
 

port, 367 
 

recorder, 455 
 

recovery, Ill, 128 
 

reentry vehicle, 200 
 

retropack, 327, 429, 430, 431, 435, 482 
 

rocket, 105, 121, 128 
 

posigrade, 105, 331, 367; 371, 473 
 

retrograde, 105, 110, 121, 128, 134, 311, 
 

315, 326, 327, 331, 334, 372, 429, 431, 
 

454, 482, 500 
 

Sigma 7. See under Mercury, Project, and 

Mercury-Atlas 8 
 

survival pack, 456, 457 
 

life raft, 368-369, 456 
 

vibration, 313, 328, 368, 376 
 

water supply, 49 
 

window, 365, 367, 371, 372, 376, 413, 414, 
 

433, 435, 445, 448, 466, 495, 500 
 

Spacecraft (U.S.S.R.) 
 

Spacecraft IV (Korabl Sputnik IV), 325 
 

Spacecraft V (Korabl Sputnik V), 330 
 

Spacecraft VI (Korabl Sputnik VI) (see 
 

under Vostok I) 

Sputniks, 52, 66, 73, 75, 76, 91, 99, 109, 119, 
 

330 
 

Sputnik I, 48, 71, 72, 73, 83, 109, 119, 303, 
 

334 
 

Sputnik II, 28, 29, 37, 73, 75, 119 
 

Sputnik Ill, 30, 49, 323 
 

Sputnik IV, 323 
 

Sputnik V, 323 
 

Voskhod I, 506 
 

V ostok I, 332-334, 335, 342, 349, 378 
 

Vostok II, 377, 378 
 

Vostok V, 506 
 

Vostok V I, 506 
 

Spaceport, 268 
 

Special Committee on Life Sciences (NASA), 

120 
 

Sperry Gyroscope Co., 309 
 

"Spin-off," 286 
 

Spirit 0/ St. Louis, 7 illus, 436 
 

Sputnik, 28, 52, 66, 73, 74, 75, 76, 83, 91, 99, 
 

109, 119, 285 
 

675 
 
Sputnik V,323 
 

Stack, John, 11, 57 
 

Stafford, Thomas P., 601 fn 50 
 

Stalin, Joseph, 17 
 

Stallings, Herbert J., 38 
 

Stanford Univ., 9, 59, 65, 529 fn 16, 538 fn 9, 
 

572 fn 4 
 

Stans, Maurice H., 82 
 

Stanton, Robert, 592 fn 33 
 

Stapp, John P., 38, 40,41, 51, 80, 148, 234, 525 
 

fn 26, 526 fn 37, 534 fn 20, 609 
 

Steele, H. B., 118 
 

Steinkamp, George R., 47, 178 
 

Stengler, Frank, 244 
 

Stephens, R. D., 289 
 

Stevens, A. W., 47 
 

Stever, H. Guyford, 75, 538 fn 7 
 

STG. See under Space Task Group 
 

STL. See under Space Technology Labora­


tories 
 

S1. Louis, Mo., 78, 148, 171, 185, 193, 198, 241, 
 

252, 257, 258, 266, 269, 270, 310, 318, 382, 
 

470, 487, 500, 587 fn 20 
 

Stonesifer, John c., 609 
 

Stoney, William E., 95, 152, 392, 536 fn 66, 
 

546 fn 54, 609 
 

Storms, Harrison A., 578 fn 81 
 

St. Thomas Island, 456 
 

Strategic Air Command (SAC) _ See under 
 

U.S_ Air Force 
 

Strategic Missiles Evaluation Committee 
 

(USAF) (see also under "Teapot Commit­
 

tee"), 22, 23 
 

"Strato-Lab" program, 50, 128, 528 fn 63 
 

Strelka (dog), 264, 280, 330 
 

Strong, Jerome, 358, 375 
 

Strughold, Hubertus, 34, 35, 47, 116, 524 fn 4, 
 

526 fn 45, 609 
 

Stub tower, 274 
 

Stuhlinger, Ernst, 17 illus, 609 
 

Stullken collar, 591 fn 17 
 

Stullken, Donald, 591 fn 17,609 
 

Submarine, 47 
 

Super-Titan, 91 
 

Survival pack (see also under Spacecraft), 369 
 

Swallow, 333 
 

Symington, Stuart, 150, 378-379 
 

Syvertson, Clarence A., 531 fn 49, 609 
 

T-l, 18, 28 
 

T-::-3,28 
 

T-33, 38 
 

TAGIU. See under Tracking and Ground Instrumentation Unit 
 

Talmadge, John B., xv 
 

Tampa, Fla., 587 fn 20 
 

Tape recorder, 273, 274 
 

676 
 

"Teapot Committee" (USAF), 23, 26, 521 
 

fn 68 
 

foresees lightweight hydrogen warheads for 

ICBMs, 23, 26 
 

Technical Assessment Committee (Langley Research Center), 121 
 

Technical Services Command (AAF), 22 
 

Teller, Edward N., 73 
 

Teller Committee, 73 
 

Telemetry (see also under Booster: Atlas.; 
 

Communications; and Spacecraft commum­
 cations), 33, 65, 157, 273-276 passim, 313, 

321, 330, 360, 385, 387, 389, 394, 395, 401, 

403,404,427,495,509 
 

T elstar II, 492 
 

Tenney Engineering Company, 271 
 

Tereshkova, Valentina V., 506 
 

Testing program, 111, 112, 121 
 

development test, 112 
 

pilot performance flight test, 112 
 

qualification test, 112 
 

Texas,34,70,381,386,391,429,441 
 

Texas A & M Univ., 588 fn 35 
 

"Thermal barrier," 59, 127 
 

"Thermal thicket," 59, 127 
 

"Thermonuclear breakthrough," 23 
 

Thermonuclear weapon, 26 
 

Thibodeaux, Joseph G., 152 
 

Thiokol Chemical Corp., 152, 157, 395 
 

Third Reich, 170 
 

Thomas, Albert, 391 
 

Thompson, A. B., 226 
 

Thompson, Floyd L., 94, 114, 154 illus 
 

Thompson Products Co., 521 fn 68 
 

Thompson-Ramo-Wooldridge, 521 fn 68, 549 

fn 14 
 

Thompson, Robert F., 134, 273, 312, 345, 347, 

464, 609 
 

Thor (see also under Missile), 23-27 passim, 

43, 53, 62, 63, 64, 70, 78, 81, 90, 91, 118, 

122,123,127,264,285 
 

Thor-Able, 42, 53, 248 
 

Thor-Agena, 279 
 

Thor-Delta, 280 
 

Thor-fluorine, 91, 92, 536 fn 69 
 

Thor-117 L, 91, 92 
 

Thor-Vanguard, 91 
 

Tibet, 497 
 

Timber Cove, Tex., 398 
 

Time (magazine), 300 
 

Time-Life, Inc., 238 
 

buys astronauts' "personal story" rights, 237 
 

Tindall, Howard W., Jr., 178,219 
 

Tinling, Bruce E., 89 
 

Tiros I, 248, 567 fn 38 
 

Tiros II, 248, 346 
 

Titan, 26, 43, 63, 78, 90, 264, 285, 305, 557 fn 1, 

572 fn 8 
 
Toftoy, H. N., 17 illus 
 

Tokaty, G. A., 18 
 

Toronto, Canada, 153 
 

Tracking and Ground Instrumentation Unit 
 

(TAGIU), 146, 157, 214, 219 
 

Tracking network, 97, 213, 291, 333, 404, 405, 
 

409,419,496,497,580 fn 97 
 

Tracking ship Coastal Sentry Quebec, 217,497, 
 

500 

Tracking ship Rose Knot Victor, 217,497 
 

Tracking station, 217, 536 fn 69 
 

Tracking system, 111,337 
 

Trainer (see also under Astronaut), 415 
 

Transfer van, 345, 351,416 
 

Transit I, 567 fn 38 
 

Transue, J. R., 609 
 

Truitt, Z. B., 119 
 

Truman administration, 19,27 
 

Truman, Harry S, 18, 22, 458 illus 
 

Tsiolkovsky, Konstantin E., 13, 29 
 

Tsitsera, Voula, 609 
 

Tullahoma, Tenn., 142,308 
 

Tunnel, 10, 65 
 

Turkestan, 332 
 

Twombly, J. W., 197 
 

Tynan, Charles T., Jr., 347 
 

Tyura Tam, U.S.S.R., 334 
 

U-2 incident, 224, 264 
 

U.S.S. Abbott, 580 fn 8 
 

U.S.S. Antietam, 528 fn 63 
 

U.S.S. Decatur, 389, 580 fn 8, 586 fn 16 
 

U.S.S. Donner, 316, 322 
 

U.S.S. Ellison, 316 
 

U.S.S. Farragut, 456 
 

U.S.S. F orrestal, 75 
 

U.S.S. George Washington, 567 fn 38 
 

U.S.S. Greene, 321 
 

U.S.S. Huntsville, 479, 481 
 

U.S.S. Intrepid, 457, 458 
 

U.S.S. 	 Kearsarge, 483, 484, 485 illus, 501, 600 
 

fn 30 
 

U.S.S. 	 Lake Champlain, 345, 357, 580 fn 8, 
 

582 fn 30 
 

U.S.S. Noa, 433, 434 
 

U.S.S. Norton Sound, 520 fn 57 
 

U.S.S. Opportune, 312 
 

U.S.S. N. K. Perry, 580 fn 8 
 

U.s.S. Pierce, 458 
 

U.S.S. Randolph, 375, 376,434 

U.S.S. Renshaw, 483 
 

U.S.S. Rooks, 580 fn 8 
 

U.S.s. Stormes, 406, 408 
 

U.S.S. Strong, 204 
 

U.S.S. Sullivans, 580 fn 8 
 

U.S.S. Trieste, 223, 556 fn 1 
 

U.S.S. Triton, 223, 556 fn 1 
 

Unidentified fiying objects (UFO), 50, 128 
 

Union, N.J., 271 
 

Union of Soviet Socialist Republics (U.S.S.R.), 

10, 14, 18, 20, 22, 23, 27, 28, 29, 33, 37, 

48, 52, 75, 101, 109, 214, 221, 224, 262, 

264, 280, 282, 284, 303, 309, 323, 332, 360­

361,363 
 

first satellite, 29,334 
 

rocket program, 14 
 

space flight, 75, 325, 330-335 passim, 377, 

378,461,462,506 
 

space results, 414 
 

Unitary Plan Wind Tunnel Act, 10 
 

United Aircraft Corp., 121 
 

United Kingdom, 217 
 

United Nations, 280, 285,435 
 

United Press International, 283,559 fn 34 
 

United States of America (U.S.), 17-21 

passim, 27, 28, 33, 37, 42, 46, 48, 50, 97, 

108,136,190,213,214,224,262,280,281,282, 

303, 304, 328, 332, 333, 378, 479, 492, 500, 

505,510,511,527 fn 49 
 

U.S. Air Force 	 (USAF), 10, 19, 21, 22,25, 28, 
 

33-38 passim, 42, 46, 47, 49, 57, 58, 64, 66, 

69, 70-74 passim, 77-82 passim, 84, 86, 90­

93 passim, 95-102 passim, Ill, 113, 117, 

118, 120, 123, 126-129 passim, 142, 143, 

164, 170, 174, 175, 176, 179, 199, 200, 

208, 230, 254, 268, 279, 306, 307, 308, 

318, 349, 383, 392, 393, 394, 467, 521 fn 69 

6555th Aerospace Test Wing, 321 
 

Aeromedical Field Laboratory, 38, 39, 40, 50, 

70, 80, 292, 525 fn 27 
 

balloon research, 50 
 

weightlessness experiment, 38, 39, 40 
 

Aeromedical Laboratory, Wright Air Devel­
 

opment Center, 34, 41, 70,230 
 

Aeronautics and Astronautics Coordinating 

Board,284 
 

Aeromedical research, 33 
 

Air Force Ballistic Missile Division (BMD) , 

2~ 2~ 7~ 7~ 7~ 7~ 9~ 91, 9~ 93, 9~ 

96, 97, 102, 123, 126, 136, 151, 157, 159, 

174, 175, 183, 248, 255, 278, 299, 300, 

307,321,572 fn 8 
 

heatshield research, 95,96,97 
 

lunar reconnaissance, 91 
 

Man-in-Space Soonest, 91, 92, 96, 97, 98, 
 

99, 101, 118, 120 
 

Man-in-Space Sophisticated, 91 
 

manned lunar landing and return, 91 
 

proposes lunar program, 70, 79 
 

Air 	 Force Cambridge Research Center, 

(AFCRC), 19, 128, 170 
 

Air Force Missile Test Center (AFMTC), 

135, 154, 155, 201, 216, 252, 276, 346 
 

677 
5,527 fn 48 
 

weightlessness experiment, 210,241 
 

Air Force Scientific Advisory Board (SAB), 
 

70, 73 
 

Air Force Space Systems Division, 382, 394 
 

Air Force Surgeon General, 441 
 

Air Materiel Command (AMC), 22 
 

Air Rescue Service, 346, 456, 457 
 

Air Research and Development Command 
 

(ARDC), 23, 69-73 passim, 79, 90-93 
 

passim, 95-97 passim, 102 
 

five·year space program, 73, 77 
 

Man·in-Space Task Force, 91 
 

Manned Ballistic Rocket Research Sys­


tem, 69, 70, 78 
 

Manned Glide Rocket Research System, 
 

69, 70, 71 
 

"Manned Military Space Systems Devel· 
 

opment Plan," 91 
 

manned spacecraft research, 69, 70, 92 
 

"quick and dirty" space flight approach, 
 

80 
 

withdraws from Man-Very·High, 99 
 

research project, 69, 70 
 

Weapons Systems Plans Office, 70 
 

Western Development Division, 23, 70 
 

awards ICBM contract to Convair, 23 
 

organized, 23 
 

Wright Air Development Center, 527 fn 49 
 

Arnold Engineering Development Center, 
 

142, 517 fn 26 
 

Directorate of Astronautics established, 73 
 

inaugurates "century series" aircraft, 11 
 

industry satellite conferences, 78, 79, 81, 86, 
 

90,95 
 

interservice space rivalry, 73, 100, 101 
 

military space concepts, 69, 78 
 

Navaho missile, 21 
 

reentry research, 60, 63 
 

seeks NACA support, 70, 71, 74, 81 
 

Strategic Air Command (SAC), 10, 159, 199, 
 

200, 208 
 

Wright Air Development Center, 38, 42, 70, 
 

78, 93, 95, 162 
 

Aeromedical Laboratory, 34, 162 
 

centrifuge, 42 
 

isolation chamber, 48 
 

Ap.rospace Medical Laboratory, 162 
 

X-15,57,58,66,69, 71, 78 
 

X-17, 63 
 

U.S. Army 	 (USA), 6, 17, 19,21, 25, 29, 42, 64, 
 

66, 78, 79, 99, 100, 101, Ill, 120, 123, 127, 
 

129, 153, 155, 170, 180, 306, 349, 529 fn 69 
 

buys first military airplane, 6 
 

Army Air Corps, 55 
 

Army Air Forces, 9, 11, 16, 22 
 

678 
 

Jupiter test, 53 
 

Man-Very-High project, 99 
 

Missile Firing Laboratory, 155, 171 
 

orbits first American satellite, 29 
 

revives Project Orbiter, 29 
 

Army Corps of Engineers, 391 
 

Army Medical Service, 156 
 

Army Ordnance Department, 19 
 

moves German scientists to Redstone 

Arsenal, 21 
 

Army Ordnance Missile Command, 123, 136 

Redstone Arsenal, 21, 25, 29, 63, 64, 99

100, 151, 159,237,521 fn 67, 523 fn 92 

ablation concept, 63, 64, 65 
 

Guided Missile Development Division

21,25 
 

Jupiter C ablation test, 64, 65 
 

U.S. Marine Corps, 164. 309 
 

Marine Air Group, 26, 345, 357, 574 fn 30 
 

U.S. Navy 	 (USN), 9, II, 25,42,50,57,64,65

78, 85, 96, 97, 100, Ill, 120, 128, 129, 143

155, 156, 164, 170, 223, 231, 254, 265, 288

306, 312, 347, 349 
 

A viation Medical Acceleration Laboratory

41, 43, 120, 288, 442,558 fn 21 
 

centrifuge, 42, 120 
 

Bureau of Aeronautics, 11, 28, 57, 100, 148 

157,230 
 

Bureau of Weapons, 266, 310 
 

Naval Research Laboratory (NRL), 19, 29

99, 115, 155, 522 fn 91, 596 fn 90 
 

designs Viking sounding rocket, 19 
 

V-2,19 
 

fails to orbit Vanguard satellite, 29 
 

Office of Naval Research, 19, 29, 50, 152

522 fn 91, 528 fn 63 
 

finances Aerobee sounding rocket, 19 
 

research balloons, SO, 128 
 

rockoons, 50 
 

School of Aviation Medicine, 39, 43, 53, 156

235, 525 fn 21 
 

acceleration experiment, 43 
 

research in Jupiter tests, 156 
 

weightlessness experiment, 39 
 

space rival of Air Force, 100, 101 
 

Strato-Iab program, 50, 128,528 fn 63 
 

X-IS project, 57, 58, 66 
 

U.S. Public Health Service, 86 
 

U.S. War Department, 5 
 

U.S. Weather Bureau, 128, 346, 388, 414, 416, 

422,444,459,471,481,595 fn 69 
 

University of Berlin, 519 fn 42 
 

University of California, vi 
 

University of Chicago, vi 
 

University of Colorado, 459 
 

University of Iowa, 29, 50 
 

University of Minnesota, 114,237,499 
 

University of North Carolina, 241 
 
, , , 

V-I, 19, 170,171,519 fn 55, 520 fn 52 
 

V-2, 17-22 passim, 28, 34, 37, 40, 56, 519 fn 
 

44,520 fn 55 
 

Vaccaro, Michael ]., 153 
 

Vacuum chamber, 271 
 

Vaeth, R. Gordon, 148 
 

Vale, Robert E., 300, 307,609 
 

Van Allen, James A., 29, 50, 52, 76, 234 
 

Van Allen belt, 30, 52, 117,136, 167,467 
 

Van Bockel, John J., 418, 609 
 

Vandenberg Air Force Base, Calif., 199, 200, 
 

208, 235 
 

Vanderoef, Geri A., xv 
 Vanguard, Project, 20, 29, 30, 31, 76, 81, 82, 
 

92, 97, 99, 115, 135, 146, 153, 155, 218, 282, 
 

394, 546 fn 62 
 

Vanguard I, 30 
 

Vanguard II, 136 
 

Vanguard Ill, 201, 218 
 

Van Riper, Paul P., vi 
 

Vavra, Paul, 393 
 

Vega, 155 
 

Vengeance weapon (see also under Missile, 
 

V-I, and V- 2) , 17 
 

Venus, 5, 248, 323, 492 
 

Verein lur RaumschifJahrt (VIR), 16 
 

VergeltungswafJe, lwei, 17 
 

Verlort radar, 469 
 

Verne, Jules, 3 
 

Versailles, Trea ty of, 16 
 

Vibration (see also under Spacecraft), 265, 
 

273, 276, 352, 368, 376, 378, 384, 385, 395, 
 

426 
 

Victoria (ship), 557 fn 1 
 

Victoria, Tex., 587 fn 20 
 

Victory, John F., 76 
 

Vienna, Austria, 6 
 

Viking, 19,20,29, 520 fn 57 
 

Virginia, 43, 55, 57, 71, 102, 113, 271, 364, 373, 
 

391,440 
 

Virginia peninsula, 364,391 
 

Virginia Polytechnic Institute, 538 fn 10 
 

Visibility in space, 413 
 

Cooper on, 496, 497 
 

Schirra on, 475 
 

Vitro Corp., 64, 127 
 

Voas, Robert B., 120, 160, 161, 162, 195, 227, 
 

235, 238, 246, 345, 349, 358, 413, 414, 416, 
 

416 illus, 418, 427, 428, 560 fn 52, 582 fns 16, 
 

18, 609 
 

Vogel, Kenneth J., 598 fn 11,609 
 

Voisin, Gabriel, 6 
 

Volga River, 332 
 

von Beckh, Harald J.~ 39, 40, 42, 80 
 

von Karman Committee, 517 fn 24 
 

von Karman, Theodore H., 9, 14, 27, 55, 132, 

517 fn 24 
 

von Neumann, John, 22 
 

Voris, Frank B., 601 fn 49 
 

Voskhod I, 506 
 

Vostok, 286, 332, 333, 334, 342, 378, 379, 409, 

506, 510 
 

Vostok I, 332-335 passim, 342, 349, 378 
 

Vostok II, 377, 378 
 

Vostok V, 506 
 

Vostok V I, 506 
 

Vycor glass, 367 
 

WAC Corporal, 19 
 

Wagenknecht, Kurt P., 609 
 

Wagner, Robert, 435 
 

Waid, Thomas, 592 fn 33 
 

Waldram, George, 256 
 

Walker, Joseph A., 279 
 

Wallace, Robert F., 575 fn 49 
 

Wall Street Joumal, 412 
 

Wallops Island (see also under Pilotless Air­
 

craft Research Division), 56, 60, 63, 65, 66, 

84, 85, 93, 96, 123, 124, 141, 157, 208, 209, 

211 illus, 224, 254, 261, 290, 291, 312, 326, 

327, 337, 544 fn 28, 591 fn 17, 577 fn 71 
 

Wallops Station, 212, 391, 554 fn 84 
 

Walsh, Donald, 556 fn 1 
 

Ward, Julian, 47 
 

Warhead. See Nose cone 
 Washington, D.C., 29, 76, 90, 93, 98, 110, 112­

116 passim, 129, 132, 133, 136, 149, 153, 160, 

161, 168, 179, 185, 193, 198, 199, 214, 256, 

258, 266, 269, 275, 276, 283, 288, 290, 296, 

305-309 passim, 318, 324, 334, 337, 379, 392, 

394,397,399,418,435,441,501 
 

Washington Hospital Center, 441 
 

Washington Post, 492 
 

Washington University, 552 fn 55 
 

Water supply, spacecraft, 49 
 

Waterman, Alan T., vi, 176 illus 
 

Watson, Fletcher G., 48 
 

Watson, Kenneth, 539 fn 16 
 

Watters, Harry]', 572 fn 7 
 

Weapons System Plans Office (ARDC), 70 
 

Weather Bureau. See under U.S. Weather 

Bureau 
 

Weather photograph, 500 
 

Weaver, Warren, 491 
 

Webb, Alvin B., 567 fn 35 
 

Webb. Dalton, 609 
 

Webb, James E., xiii 309, 320, 323, 325, 326, 

330, 332, 361 illus, 362, 390, 391, 392, 397, 

438, 441, 442, 459, 460, 488 illus, 502 illus, 

679 
 
496, 497, 500, 508, 526 fn 48, 593 fn 34, 595 
 

fn 80 
 

Weinberg, Alvin W., 5II 
 

Weinberg, G. M., 220 
 

Welsh, Edward c., 350, 568 fn 50,609 
 

Wendt, Guenter, 366 illus 
 

Wendzel, Frank, 175, 549 fn IS, 609 
 

West Palm Beach, Fla., 371 
 

Western Development Division (ARDC), 23, 70 
 

Western Electric Co., 217, 254, 555 fns 101, 106, 
 

575 fn 37 
 

Weston, Kenneth c., 142 
 

Weymouth, R., 580 fn 8 
 

Whipple, Fred L., 48 
 

Whitcomb, Richard T., 86, 518 fn 30 
 

White, D. Richard, 174, 175, 176, 184, 187, 
 

188, 3fl, 549 fns 14, 15,609 
 

White, Edward H., II, 506, 601 fn 50 
 

White, Paul Dudley, 442, 594 fn 63 
 

White, Robert M., 279 
 

White, Stanley c., 120, 160, 161, 163, 216, 225, 
 

227, 228, 253, 299, 366 illus, 423, 441, 442, 
 

474, 536 fn 70, 547 fns 73, 80, 589 fns 46, 58 
 

White, Thomas D., 81, 91, 258 
 

White House, 28, 82, 99, 101, Ill, II3, 134,263, 
 

326, 338, 349, 362, 421, 502 illus, 597 fn 109 
 

White House Advisory Committee on Govern­


ment Organization, 82, 89 
 

"White room," 191, 226, 331 
 

White Sands, N. Mex., 20 illus, 22, 34, 37, 56, 
 

401, 520 fn 55 
 

White Sands Proving Ground, 19 
 

Whittle, Frank, 9 
 

Wickham, Paul R., 578 fn 81 
 

Wiesner Committee, 304, 305, 307, 308, 309 
 

Wiesner, Jerome B., 304, 306, 307, 309, 325, 
 

331,347, 572 fn 7 
 

Wiesner Report, 304, 305, 306, 308, 325 
 

Wignall, Panl, 587 fn 19 
 

Williams, John J., 270, 321, 425 illus, 565 fn 19 
 

Williams, John 1., 349 
 

Williams, Roland, 468 illus 
 

Williams, Walter c., 81, 85, 87, 106, 170, 252, 
 

253, 254, 256, 270, 275, 279, 289, 290, 299, 
 

311, 312, 314, 318, 321, 324, 331, 335, 337, 
 

343, 346, 369, 381, 384, 387, 390, 392, 393, 
 

403, 404, 407, 420-423 passim, 428, 440, 443, 
 

451 illus, 458 illus, 459, 469, 471, 472, 486, 
 

488 illus, 489, 492, 494, 498 illus, 540 fn 32, 
 

542 fn 2, 545 fn 48, 548 fn 7, 554 fn 90, 562 
 

fn 68, 565 fn 6, 567 fn 35, 574 fn 26, 579 fns 
 

91, 96, 583 fn 49, 584 fn 56, 585 fn 3, 586 
 

fns 9, II, 588 fn 33, 589 fn 57, 590 fn 60, 591 
 

fn 20, 597 fn 109, 609 
 

Williams, William, 275 
 

Wilson, Charles, 187, 188, 321 
 

Wilson, Charles E., 23, 25, 27, 29, 175, 176 
 

y

63,65,83,94 
 

Ames Research Center, 318, 320 
 

Langley Memorial Aeronautical Laboratory, 

10,63,64,65,83,87,94,113 
 

Langley free spinning, 87, 95 
 

Langley hypersonic, 63, 64, 95 
 

slotted-throat principle, 10 
 

supersonic, 10,58, 59,60,63 
 

Tullahoma, 308 
 

unitary plan, 10 
 

Winnie Mae, 230 
 

Winter, John H., 140 
 

Winzen Research, Inc., 50, 51, 121 
 

launches Air Force research balloon, 50, 51 
 

Witunski, Michael, xv, 609 
 

Wolff, Elmer J., 393 
 

Wolman, William, 266, 267 
 

Wong, Thomas J., 89 
 

Wood, Clotaire, 81, 82, 95, 534 fn 28, 536 fn 

67,538 fn 1,609 
 

Wood, Donald, 592 fn 33 
 

Woodling, C. H., 609 
 

Woods, Robert J., 11,56,57 
 

Woomera, Australia, 401, 404, 405, 430, 449, 

450,461,475,593 fn 39 
 

Worcester, Mass., 228 
 

World Congress of Flight, 156 
 

World Series, 472 
 

World War I, 6 
 

World War II, 9, 11, 34, 39, 41, 43, 55, 80, 

117, 163,391,522 fn 70 
 

Worthman, Paul E., 299, 307 
 

Wright Air Development Center (See also 

under U.S. Air Force), 38, 42, 70, 78, 93, 

95, 161,526 fns 32,36 
 

Wright Air Development Division (see under 

Air Research and Development Command 

and U.S. Air Force) 
 

Wright brothers, 6, 9, 132,350,436,515 fn 5 
 

Wright Field, 162, 239,521 fn 26 
 

Wright Flyer (see also under Aircraft), 6 
 

Wright-Patterson Air Force Base, 0., 34, 39, 

41,42,48,78,241,348 . 
 

weightlessness experiment, 42, 525 fn 24 
 

Wulfkehler, Eugene, 228 
 

Wyatt, DeMarquis D., 151, 542 fn 50, 545 fn 

51,609 
 

X-I (see also under Aircraft), II, 35, 532 fn 52 

X-1A (see also under Aircraft), II, 35, 58 
 

X-IB (see also under Aircraft), 87 
 

X-2 (see also under Aircraft), 36,57, 58, 63

87,279,294,532 fn 52 
 

X-3 (see also under Aircraft), 529 fn 10 
 

X--4, 529 fn 10 
 

X-5, 529 fn 10 
 

680 
XB-70 (sec also under Aircraft), 121 
 

XF-108 (see also under Aircraft), 121 
 

Yardley, John F., 119, 138, 148, 190, 191, 193, 
 

194, ]96, 199, 226, 249, 250, 268, 269, 278, 
 

300, 324, 319 illus, 388 illus, 462, 551 fn 49, 
 

565 fns 17, 18,609 
 

Yates, Donald N., 155, 170, 252, 253, 276, 548 
 

fn 6 
 

Yeager, Charles E., 11, 37 
 

Yeager, Philip B., 285, 286 
 

York, Herbert F., 93, 154, 284 
 

Zanzibar, 217, 291, 387,401, 430, 474, 479, 495, 
 

496, 499, 500, 589 fn 58, 593 fn 37 
 

Zavasky, Raymond L., 252, 261 
 

Zedekar, Raymond G., 238, 415 
 

Zero-g, 36-40 passim, 239, 371, 427, 448, 495, 
 

496 
 

Zeus (god), 132 
 

Zimmerman, Charles H., 57, 115, 119, 120, 122, 
 

148 
 

Zodiacal light, 415, 499 
 

Zoller, Charles E., 609 
 

Zvezdochka (dog), 330 
 

Zygielbaum, Joseph L., 579 fn 86 
 

681 
 


...the authors have succeeded remarkably well in achieving three 

different and rather difficult ends. First, they have provided a readable narrative of the first essay by the United States into manned 

space flight ... they have managed to do so in a way that is comprehensible to the layman without being negligible to the specialist. 

Second, they have crammed their narrative with observations and 

insights that offer food for thought ...for the treatment offered here 

thrusts far beyond the particulars of Project Mercury to illuminate 

many of the enduring problems of our technical society as a whole. 

And finally, they have...been able to retain a high degree of objectivity and freedom to criticize, even while accepting official support 

for a volume that almost certainly would not and could not have 

been written without heavy subsidy and the fullest access to 

records."-Aerospace Historian 

A classic history of the first American human space flight effort, 

Project Mercury, this book was first published in 1966 and is still 

much in demand. In addition to providing a policy and institutional 

history of this major NASA mission, This New Ocean presents a 

broad chronological outline of technological achievements at the 

center of the effort, the scientific studies and results of the flights, 

and the human drama of the astronauts, ground controllers, and 

government and industry officials who saw it through to completion 

between 1961 and 1963. 

One of the NASA History Series, This New Ocean is an exceptional 

work that informs and entertains readers seeking to understand the 

development of space flight in America, as well as those interested 

in the development of modern technology. 

About the cover: "Launch of Mercury-Atlas," watercolor by John McCoy, 

NASA art program, Space Art-1, NASA photo number 67-HC-617.