Richard Lawrence - The Mammoth Book of Space Exploration and Disasters

Abe Silverstein again drew on his knowledge of mythology for the name of NASA’s post-Mercury manned spaceflight project. Apollo, “the name of the sun god who rode his flaming chariot across the sky, was suitably evocative for this exciting program. Administrator Glennan agreed on the name, but Project Apollo, George Low quickly admitted, had as yet no official standing.” That was probably the understatement of that year.

Eisenhower may have supported unmanned scientific and military reconnaissance satellites, but he only grudgingly approved Project Mercury and refused to back any post-Mercury plans until an ad hoc panel of science advisers assessed NASA’s future goals for cost-effectiveness. The committee concluded that a manned lunar landing would cost almost $40 billion. Ike was outraged and demanded to know why America should undertake such an expense. When a staff man compared the proposed lunar mission to Columbus’s voyage to the New World, Eisenhower noted that Queen Isabella of Spain had raided the royal treasury for that adventure, but he was “not about to hock his jewels” to put Americans on the moon. When another adviser suggested the lunar flight was actually just the first step toward manned exploration of the planets, the cabinet room rang with scornful laughter. NASA planners realized that they would have to look to the next administration for a more ambitious American space program.

The Democratic presidential candidate, John F. Kennedy criticized his opponent, President Eisenhower, saying that President Eisenhower had allowed the Soviets to challenge US global leadership, especially in space. If the “space gap” continued it would represent “the most serious defeat the US has suffered in many, many years”.

The Soviets were building larger Korabl Sputniks, officially designated “manned spacecraft prototypes”. They were already trying to launch Mars probes and had sent one (Luna 1) into the moon in September 1959. Two Soviet efforts had failed at the fourth stage when on 24 October 1960, their third attempt failed and Marshal Nedelin, who was in charge, would not accept the delay so went forward to investigate. Aldrin:

The countdown reached zero and the ignition signal was transmitted. But the clustered booster engines failed to ignite, possibly because of an electronic fault in the massive rocket’s first stage. Korolev issued the proper “safing” commands, which disabled the booster’s main electrical systems. Under normal circumstances, the rocket would be drained of fuel, tested for malfunctions, and refueled for the next launch attempt: this could take weeks, but Marshal Nedelin could not accept this delay. He desperately needed a success, or he would face Khrushchev’s wrath. Nedelin led a team of engineers from the blockhouse to the launch pad to inspect the rocket.

Korolev wisely stayed sheltered within the thick concrete walls of the launch bunker, a safe distance from the pad.

As Khrushchev later recalled in his memoirs, “The rocket reared up and fell, throwing acid and flames all over the place… Dozens of soldiers, specialists, and technical personnel…” died in the disaster. “Nedelin was sitting nearby watching the test when the missile malfunctioned, and he was killed.”

It was not until December 1960 that a successful test of the Mercury Redstone (M-R 1) was achieved. After his election, President Kennedy delegated space affairs to his Vice-President Lyndon Johnson. M-R 2 carried a chimpanzee named Ham. It produced unexpectedly high thrust. It landed down range having pulled 15g on reentry. The next launch was delayed until April.

Aldrin was by this time at MIT. The Soviet manned spacecraft was named Vostok, which meant the East. Their chief designer, Korolev, who had designed it in 1958, favored the same design as NASA, a lightweight Titanium alloy blunt body. Soviet premier Krushchev insisted that it land on home soil, so it had to be heavy enough to survive impact but light enough for a parachute descent. The Vostok spacecraft was constructed of two parts: a re-entry module and an instrument unit. The re-entry module was spherical, heat shielded all over and was equipped with ejection seats; the instrument unit was detached before re-entry. Because the re-entry module was spherical, the re-entry angle was not as critical as it was for the US spacecraft. At 24,000 feet the hatch of the Vostok would blow and the cosmonaut would eject. On 1 December 1960 Korabl-Sputnik 3 burnt up on re-entry because the descent angle was too steep; it was carrying two dogs. In March 1961 Korab Sputniks 4 and 5 were successfully launched as practice runs for the first manned space flight attempt; the dogs inside survived. The final test was a mock-up spacecraft, carrying a Vostok ejection seat and an experienced parachutist, wearing a spacesuit. The mock-up spacecraft was dropped out of a high-flying transport aircraft but unfortunately the parachutist was killed because the hatch was too small. Korolev modified the design to ensure safe ejection, finally requesting that the cosmonaut should be small enough for safe ejection.

On 19 January 1965 a second Gemini test was launched. The spacecraft contained a dummy crew and was fired 159km above the South Atlantic. It reached a higher temperature than any mission so far and splashed down safely after a 19-minute flight. Modifications to the Titan rocket fuel distribution dampened the violent oscillations which were experienced just after launch. The next Gemini mission could be manned.

But before Gemini III could be launched the Soviets astonished the world with another achievement.

On 18 March 1965 Voskhod 2 was launched from Tyuratam with crew members Pavel Belyayev and Sergei Leonov. Voskhod 2 was a modified version of the Voskhod spacecraft and was fitted with an airlock. To accommodate the airlock the ejection seats had to be removed, thereby allowing the cabin to remain at normal atmospheric pressure while Leonov depressurized the airlock. Leonov reduced the pressure in the airlock to check the integrity of his spacesuit, then released the air and opened the hatch. Lindsay:

With a light push he moved away from the spacecraft and first glanced down at the Earth, which seemed to move slowly past. Despite the thick glass of his helmet, he could see clouds to the right, the Black Sea below his feet, the Bay of Novorossysk, and beyond the coastline, the mountain chain of the Caucasus.

Pulling gently on his tether, he began to draw himself back to the spacecraft, then, pushing off again and turning around he moved slowly away again. He could see both the steady brilliance of the stars scattered over a background of black velvet, and at the same time the surface of the Earth. He could make out the Volga River, the snowy line of the Ural Mountains, and the great Siberian rivers Obi and Yenisei. He felt he was looking down on a great coloured map. The sun shone brilliantly in the black sky, and he could feel its warmth on his face through the visor.

He felt so good he had not the least desire to return back on board, and even after he was told to get back in he floated away once more.

However, when Leonov did try to return to the airlock after a few minutes he was horrified to find he could not pass through the outer hatch as his suit had ballooned out from the internal pressure.

What to do? Here he was floating along, looking down 161 kilometres to the Earth below, trapped out in space in his space-suit – and nobody around able to help! Belyayev was helpless inside the spacecraft, only able to listen to his mate grunting with the exertion of fighting for his life. As there was only one spacewalking suit there was nothing he could do.