Gene Kranz - Failure Is Not an Option

The Apollo 9 mission was sheer exhilaration for both the astronauts and Mission Control. While docked during the first four days we thoroughly checked out and tested the propulsion systems of both spacecraft. Then Rusty Schweickart and Dave Scott performed an EVA between the docked spacecraft before starting the rendezvous. The LM maneuvered to rendezvous with the CSM just as it would have to do in lunar orbit.

No Apollo crew was better prepared than McDivitt, Scott, and Schweickart. They had been in training since 1966, when they were initially assigned as the backup unit to Apollo 1 until replaced by Schirra’s crew. If anything went awry during the lunar module testing, Jim and Rusty could have found themselves adrift in space in a machine with no capability of returning safely to Earth. In that event, Scott, flying the command module, would have been called upon to make the first space rescue in history. Scott knew his spacecraft better than any prior command module pilot. If he had had to initiate a rescue attempt, you could be damn sure he would have succeeded.

Combining two rendezvous techniques developed on Gemini 9, we flew the most complex rendezvous to date. The LM rendezvous radar, computer, and propulsion systems passed every flight test. LM emergency power-down checklists and techniques for using the lunar module engine while docked to the CSM were developed and tested. These rudimentary “lifeboat” techniques would provide get-home alternatives for certain CSM failures and would be vital during later missions. The mission debriefing proved that the lunar module, in a zero-G environment, was a remarkably sturdy space buggy. The only problem we had was that Schweickart was space sick for four days. Overall, it was a damned good mission with a great crew.

Several times during the mission I reached task saturation with the control of two spacecraft, while planning and executing the mission. I was convinced that the only way to ensure effective support for spacecraft operations when the LM and CSM were separated in lunar orbit was with two separate teams in the MCC, one following the CSM and the other the LM. Two complete communications sets were available at each console to support shift handover. When the CSM and LM were operating independently, I believed that one flight director could work with the GNC and EECOM, the other with CONTROL (lunar module guidance, attitude control propulsion, and navigation) and TELMU (LM electrical, environmental, and EVA systems). Lunney and Charlesworth were both skeptical that two flight directors could work side by side on the same mission from the same console.

A decision on the dual flight director arrangement was deferred until we could test the concept on Apollo 10, which would set the stage for the final push to the Moon.

Lunney led the team for the Apollo 10 mission, with Milt Windler and Pete Frank on the wings. I closely followed every event in the mission. The procedures, plans, and rules were virtually the same ones we would use on Apollo 11.

Tom Stafford and Gene Cernan took the Apollo 10 LM to within ten miles of the lunar surface, then staged a rendezvous with John Young in Charlie Brown, the mother ship. After thirty-one orbits of the Moon, Apollo 10 left for home. The flight plan, navigation and tracking techniques, and the exact procedures were used in an end-to-end basis to shake out any problems and further reduce the risks of the landing mission. Every MCC maneuver computation, every controller display, and even the team shifting scheme was tested.

By the time of the Apollo 10 splashdown we knew that the total mission system—the crew, controllers, and spacecraft—was ready to go. The only remaining uncertainty was the lunar landing and the subsequent liftoff. Lunney’s and Charlesworth’s experience at the flight director’s console during the mission persuaded them to agree to the dual flight director approach once the LM was on the Moon’s surface.

There are luminous points in memory that are as fresh and vivid as if they had just happened. This is the way I remember the day I was commissioned in the Air Force, the day I got my wings, and the day I was married. I remember the first time I flew a Sabre and the hour of my bittersweet last flight. I remember meeting Marta, our joyous reunion upon my returning from Korea, and the births of each of our children.

In space, I remember the “Four-Inch Flight,” my first mission as flight director, Ed White’s EVA, and Apollo 1. Some of these moments tore my heart out while others were pure joy, an opportunity to share an instant with Marta or my team. Still, others were purely visceral, the thrill of doing something for the first time, being involved in a great event or leading in a great cause. Between the flights of Apollo 8 and 9, a brief meeting joined the list of those moments I will never forget.

As 1968 came to a close, I realized that if all the remaining missions went well, I would be a flight director for the first lunar landing. Every controller wanted to be a part of this historic mission and all had been jockeying for some position since early in the Apollo program. Although we were incredible team players, each of the flight directors wanted a challenging and historic mission. A position in Mission Control was the next best thing to being in the spaceship. More than just working the mission, however, I wanted to lead the team that would take the first Americans to the Moon.

The roll of the dice put Glynn Lunney, Cliff Charlesworth, and me on the schedule for the first lunar mission. This was a reunion of sorts, the first time the three of us had worked together since Gemini 12. Since the Apollo 1 fire, Hodge had rotated the lead assignments among Glynn, Cliff, and me. When I became Flight Control division chief, I saw no reason to shuffle the lead responsibilities, so Charlesworth retained the lead flight director role for Apollo 11.

One of Cliff’s initial tasks was assigning the flight directors for the mission phases. There were eight major phases of a lunar mission; five of the eight would have been demonstrated on either Apollo 8 or 10. The three new mission phases were the lunar landing, surface EVA, and lunar ascent.

Our experience made it a toss-up for the phase assignments. Cliff had launched the most Saturn rockets; Glynn would have been to the Moon twice with Apollo 8 and 10, and I would have the most lunar module experience. We had all worked manned command modules. Cliff and Glynn were considered by the controllers as trajectory biased, favoring work on the trajectory aspects of the mission, while I was considered as systems-biased, favoring work with the CSM and LM control teams. I hoped that when Charlesworth put the pieces together, he would give me the assignment for the landing phase of the mission.

The meeting where that actually happened was almost anticlimactic. Cliff walked into my office, stood at the window, stared out for a moment, and then turned with a smile on his face. He knew that I wanted to get down to business, but he just toyed with me for a few moments, passing the time of day, then abruptly said, “I think it’s time to decide on the Apollo 11 phase assignments.”

With no further preliminaries, he continued, “I think I should launch Apollo 11 and do the EVA. Milt [Windler] will take the entry. This leaves Glynn for the lunar ascent… and you with the landing. Is that okay with you?” I nodded, and the meeting was over. The entire session had taken less than sixty seconds.

I had drawn the flight director assignment to put the first man on the Moon.

I had to tell someone and the list would start with Marta. Seldom would I call Marta bearing glad tidings; it was usually, “I’m going to be late,” or “I’m not going to be home to help one of our kids with a math test preparation.” This time I couldn’t wait to tell her. “Marta, guess what? Cliff gave me the lunar landing assignment!” When I called the staff in, they could tell from the way I was ricocheting around the office and from my ecstatic expression that I had gotten the glittering prize—the Moon landing. They were as happy as I was.