Earthrise (8 page)

In June 1967, I was part of a small group of astronauts who spent four days in the Panama Jungle Survival School, near the Panama Canal. We first went to a classroom in the jungle where we learned survival basics such as how to build a simple shelter, how to find and prepare food and water, and how to hike and navigate through the dense, rugged rain forest. Part of our classroom lessons included being treated to a “jungle buffet” consisting of foods such as boa, fried rat, iguana, hearts of palm, and taro root.

After this basic instruction, we were dropped off in the jungle via a helicopter, and we grouped ourselves into three-man teams like our Apollo crews. It was our job to scout down a campsite and then build a lean-to using large palm leaves to protect us from the scorching sun and drenching rain. Our only supplies were items such as a first-aid kit and a parachute, which were items we would have with us on our spacecraft during our missions.

For the few days we were on our own, we mostly ate plant-based foods and we intentionally avoided eating things like bugs, frogs, worms, and other creepy crawlers. I remember chopping down a palm tree in extremely hot weather to find the edible inner core, the heart of palm, which most of us did eat.

And then, a few months later during the scorching month of August 1967, I traveled to the desert of Pasco, Washington, for survival training in approximately 110-degree temperatures. Here, along with a small group of astronauts, I spent two days in a classroom learning different survival techniques before spending three long, hot days in the desert. The only items we were allowed to take with us were a survival kit, a parachute, and three-and-a-half quarts of water. The parachute turned out to be very handy on this trip; we draped it around our bodies like a flowing robe to protect our skin from the sun. We also braided strips of the parachute to make a twine, and we used another part of the parachute to make a tent.

Because water is so crucial in the dry desert, we learned how to make a solar still to collect potable water, and how to squeeze moisture from a cactus. There were slim pickins for dinner unless anybody felt like a meal made from snakes, lizards, ants, rabbits, or birds—if you could snare them.

Learning to survive in different regions of the world wasn’t easy, but it was essential training so that we could survive no matter where our spacecraft landed us back on Earth. This training was also helpful in teaching us how to cope and adapt to unknown environments.

Spacecraft Simulators

We also had to know ahead of time about every big and small detail that would go right, as well as every little thing that might go wrong.

To learn this, a great deal of our training revolved around rehearsing what we were about to do in space, in exact replicas of our spacecraft. We often worked in Command Module and Lunar Module simulators to give us an idea of how to pilot the spacecraft that would take us to the Moon and back. We spent months rehearsing in these two simulators, so we had a feel for how we would sit, how we would sleep and eat, how we would pilot the spacecraft, and how we would communicate with the many individuals back at Mission Control in Houston.

The Command Module simulator gave us the opportunity to simulate our flight from liftoff to landing. Its console was identical to our real one with switches, displays, dials, controls, and communication equipment. It even had a realistic view out of the window created with a motion picture. In this device we would simulate countdown and launch—and then we’d fly into Earth orbit, go into translunar flight, orbit the Moon, come within feet of a lunar landing, complete a spacecraft rendezvous, and then return home with reentry and splashdown.

In the Lunar Module simulator we could practice a simulation of a lunar landing and imitate flying over the lunar surface, selecting a landing site, and descending and landing on the Moon. We’d then practice flying back to the Command Module.

We also used these simulators to work out all sorts of serious problems we might encounter along the way. This was crucial to learn. Our training instructors would lead us through moment-by-moment scenarios of our Moon missions. At first we’d fly a program straight through without problems. But then, the trainers intentionally tried to challenge us. They would throw in horrific problems for us to solve, like a meteorite hitting our spacecraft or a malfunction in our control systems. It was our responsibility to quickly figure out how to respond to these crises and get used to solving problems in space.

Flying Beds and Mock Moon Rocks

Alan Shepard got a chance to train for our Moon landing in the Lunar Landing Research Vehicle (LLRV), which some people called the “Flying Bedstead,” because it looked like an old brass bed frame. This device could actually lift off and fly about 500 feet above the Earth. I never flew this vehicle, but I didn’t mind because it was quite dangerous to maneuver.

Many lunar surface simulations were rehearsed at Cape Kennedy in Florida in a specially constructed training area located behind the NASA administrative buildings. We would practice our work wearing pressure suits and backpacks, and we’d rehearse setting up equipment we would later use on the Moon. We often practiced how to pick up Moon rocks by hand or with specially designed handheld equipment. Working in the sweltering heat of the Florida sun was tough, and on some days I would lose up to 10 pounds just from sweating.

The Successes and Failures of Space Travel

Although the Apollo lunar missions were extremely exciting, there were always risks and potential fatalities. We all knew this—my boss, my colleagues, my family, everyone. There were inherent dangers in traveling beyond Earth’s orbit and especially in going the distance to the Moon.

My military experience in the Korean War and as a test pilot had prepared me to handle a great deal of dire situations, and I was accustomed to solving difficult problems in flight. I’d been shot at. I’d had equipment break on me. And I knew there were times I was in really tough situations. But if I wanted to be an astronaut, I needed to come to terms with the potential of danger or death. And I did.

Space was a whole new frontier, and there were many unknowns to figure out along the way. We worked hard, had solid contingency plans, and always hoped for the best. But sometimes we failed.

In 1967, only one year after I’d started astronaut training at NASA, tragedy struck. Apollo 1 astronauts Virgil “Gus” Grissom, Edward White, and Roger Chaffee were rehearsing a launch pad test at Kennedy Space Center in Florida on January 27, 1967, in preparation for their upcoming launch date of February 21, 1967.

Suddenly, and without warning, a fire erupted and swept through the Command Module capsule where the astronauts were buckled in their seats. Unable to escape, the three men tragically lost their lives. I was deeply saddened by the loss of my friends and three of Earth’s finest space explorers. But I truly believe that Gus, Ed, and Roger would have absolutely wanted us to move forward with the space program.

And in time we did.

Over the next year and a half we worked diligently on correcting potential equipment and spacecraft problems. Apollo missions 7 and 9 were designed to test the Command Module and the Lunar Module spacecraft while orbiting Earth. Apollo missions 8 and 10 orbited the Moon to test equipment and take important lunar photography for the upcoming Apollo missions that would land spacecraft on the Moon.

Contact

On July 20, 1969, Apollo 11 astronaut Neil Armstrong was the first man to set foot on the Moon. Millions of people on Earth tuned in to their radios or turned on their televisions to follow this rare and historic event.

The Apollo 11 crew included Commander Neil Armstrong, Command Module Pilot Michael Collins, and Lunar Module Pilot Buzz Aldrin. The astronauts had a smooth launch from Earth on July 16, 1969, and a few days later, Neil and Buzz were traveling in their Lunar Module named the Eagle and carefully guiding the craft down to their lunar landing site called the Sea of Tranquility.

I remember that summer day in July so well. Charlie Duke was CAPCOM and I was helping out in Mission Control with many of my colleagues. Up to this point the flight had been nearly flawless. But as Neil and Buzz flew the Eagle toward their landing site, they started to have problems.

Neil could see that the Lunar Module was heading toward a dangerous-looking crater, so he took the controls manually to fly the craft away from the crater. This meant that more fuel would be burned, which wasn’t good because their fuel was limited and could run out. In addition, alarms starting going off in the craft, which only increased tensions. It seemed like everyone in Mission Control was holding their breath during these last critical seconds.

Fortunately, the alarm problem was determined to be a computer software issue and quickly corrected. And with less than 25 seconds’ worth of fuel left, Neil and Buzz landed their craft.

“The Eagle has landed!” Neil exclaimed. Everyone in Mission Control breathed a huge sigh of relief. In his iconic southern drawl, Charlie Duke said, “Tranquility, we copy you on the ground. You got a bunch of guys about to turn blue. We’re breathing again. Thanks a lot!”

Neil started a video camera attached to the outside of the Lunar Module to film his historic steps. He then slowly stepped down the ladder and onto the Moon. His words will forever be part of history, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

I felt so proud of everyone at NASA and the Apollo program that day. I was especially proud of Neil, Buzz, and Mike. When Apollo 11 splashed down on Earth on July 24, cheers and applause erupted in Mission Control and everyone waved American flags. It was pure and absolute joy. History had been made and we had upheld President Kennedy’s challenge to land a man on the Moon and return him safely to Earth before 1971.

About four months later, another Moon mission was good to go. Apollo 12 launched from Kennedy Space Center on November 14, 1969, with a crew that included Commander Charles “Pete” Conrad, Command Module Pilot Richard Gordon, and Lunar Module Pilot Alan Bean. Pete and Alan flew their Lunar Module, the Intrepid, down to the Moon and made a precise landing at the Ocean of Storms. The crew successfully returned to Earth on November 24, 1969.

Apollo 13

“Houston, we’ve had a problem here.” —Astronaut Jack Swigert

On April 11, 1970, the Apollo 13 astronauts, James “Jim” Lovell, Jack Swigert, and my good buddy Fred Haise, set out for the Moon. Their lunar landing site was the Fra Mauro Highlands (where the Apollo 14 Lunar Module eventually landed). But about two and a half days after launch when the Apollo 13 crew was nearly 200,000 miles away from Earth, the oxygen tank in their Service Module exploded. This unexpected problem wound up crippling the entire spacecraft by wiping out their vital oxygen and electricity supplies.

Now faced with a terrifying situation, the astronauts needed to figure out a way to breathe, survive, and get back home.

It seemed like everyone on Earth was watching as the dangerous Apollo 13 events unfolded, and people all over the world were anxiously glued to their televisions and radios hoping for the astronauts’ safe return.

One of the first things Jim, Jack, and Fred did was to quickly move from the Command Module into the attached Lunar Module. Once they were in this smaller spacecraft, which had some oxygen and electricity, they were then able to shut off and conserve the Command Module’s power, oxygen, and fuel that would be crucial to get them back to Earth. In addition, the Lunar Module’s engine would also be used to thrust the astronauts around the Moon so they could then get into an orbital path to return home. For all intents and purposes, the Lunar Module became their lifeboat.

Everyone at Mission Control was completely focused on getting the three astronauts back to Earth. And because I knew the Lunar Module inside and out, I was called in to help. I immediately hurried over to a nearby training building that housed the Lunar Module simulator and climbed into the simulator to figure out every maneuver and turn the Apollo 13 astronauts would need to do in their Lunar Module. I had to be one step ahead of them at all times, guiding them as best I could. And if I discovered any problem whatsoever, I would immediately communicate with Mission Control Flight Director Gene Kranz, who would then talk with the astronauts. It was a tense and critical time.

At the same time, astronaut Ken Mattingly was also called in to help. Ken was one of the original three astronauts selected for Apollo 13, and he had trained extensively for this mission. But unfortunately, or fortunately as we later realized, he was grounded due to his exposure to German measles and Jack Swigert had taken his place as Command Module Pilot. Ken climbed into the Command Module simulator that was right next to the Lunar Module simulator and worked through countless procedures, running reentry after reentry under different configurations to help the three astronauts conserve their remaining power and limited oxygen. He focused on how to get them back through the atmosphere of Earth with a marginal oxygen supply. He asked important questions: What could they shut down? What could they turn off? What would they need to do in order to survive?

Jim, Jack, and Fred wound up staying in the Lunar Module, which became very cold, until they got close to Earth. They then climbed back into the Command Module and took their seats. Their next step was to jettison the Lunar Module, which burned up in the atmosphere, before they soared down in the Command Module and plunged into the ocean on April 17, 1970.