|
Images
Audio Clips
Video Clips
Movies
Documents
|
 |

Preface
The purpose of this book is only partly to record the engineering and
scientific accomplishments of the men and women who made it possible for
a human to step away from his home planet for the first time. It is
primarily an attempt to show how scientists interested in the moon and
engineers interested in landing people on the moon worked out their
differences and conducted a program that was a major contribution to
science as well as a stunning engineering accomplishment.
When scientific requirements began to be imposed on manned space flight
operations, hardly any aspect was unaffected. The choice of landing
sites, the amount of scientific equipment that could be carried, and the
weight of lunar material that could be brought back all depended on the
capabilities of the spacecraft and mission operations. These
considerations limited the earliest missions and constituted the
challenge of the later ones.
President John F. Kennedy's decision to build the United States' space
program around a manned lunar landing owed nothing to any scientific
interest in the moon. The primary dividend was to be national prestige,
which had suffered from the Soviet Union's early accomplishments in
space. A second, equally important result of a manned lunar landing
would be the creation of a national capability to operate in space for
purposes that might not be foreseeable. Finally, Kennedy felt the need
for the country to set aside "business as usual" and commit
itself with dedication and discipline to a goal that was both difficult
and worthwhile. Kennedy had the assurance of those in the best position
to know that it was technologically possible to put a human on the moon
within the decade. His political advisers, while stressing the many
benefits (including science) that would accrue from a strong space
program, recognized at once that humans were the key. If the Soviets
sent men and women to the moon, no American robot, however sophisticated
or important, would produce an equal impact on the world's
consciousness. Hence America's leadership in space would be asserted by
landing humans on the moon.
This line of reasoning was convincing enough for most congressional
leaders, who would have to provide the money, and was accepted by a
majority of Americans. But Apollo was conceived and developed in an era
when the scientific community was emerging as a political force in the
country. Scientific research was becoming a big business in the late
l950s and early l960s, sustained by unprecedented financial support from
the federal government. Science had constituted the major portion of
NASA's early space program and was the rationale for the space program
in the first place; hence scientists considered space to be their
province. The investigations of the pioneer space scientists did not
require a human's presence; hence man had, in their view, no important
role in space. Since Apollo was not a scientific project, it was
unnecessary; because it would be expensive, it probably would be
detrimental to the legitimate space program already under way.
In one respect the critics were right: Apollo was not primarily a
scientific project. The engineers charged with accomplishing the lunar
landing within the decade had far too many problems to solve to give
much thought to secondary matters - a category to which they relegated
scientific experiments. Some may have felt that the landing itself was
enough; the President had called for nothing more. Most probably
reasoned that someone else would specify what the astronauts would do on
the moon. For the engineers responsible for carrying it out, Apollo
required a strict ordering of priorities: be sure we can get the crew
there and back; then provide for other objectives. Risks abounded, and
the glare of publicity surrounding Apollo made it certain that the loss
of a single astronaut's life could imperil the project's very existence.
Objections by the scientists had no effect on the nation's determination
to carry out the manned lunar landing. Science would, however,
considerably affect the conduct of the lunar missions that followed the
first landing. By the time the project ended in December 1972, engineers
and scientists had developed a mutual respect and a commonality of aims.
No one lamented more strongly than the scientists - not, for the most
part, the same ones who had objected so vigorously to the program in the
early days - the cancellation in 1970 of three planned lunar exploration
missions.
Apollo might have been considered complete when the crew of the
spacecraft Columbia came aboard the U.5.5. Hornet in the Pacific Ocean
on July 24, 1969.
Indeed, for some years after President Kennedy proposed it, the first
lunar landing was regarded as the objective of Apollo. Planning for
manned space flights to follow the lunar landing began in 1963 with
studies on how the Apollo spacecraft could be modified to extend the
duration of the missions and increase the payload that could be carried
to the moon. In l965 a program called "Apollo Applications"
emerged, which included long-duration earth-orbital flights as well as
lunar exploration. It would build and launch a few Apollo spacecraft and
Saturn rockets each year, sustaining the nation's manned space
capability and producing useful information while the nation decided
what the next major step in manned space exploration would be.
By late 1967, however, it was clear that that decision would not come
early, and that post-Apollo programs other than lunar exploration
required more thought. An Office of Lunar Exploration Programs was
opened in NASA Headquarters to direct the continued exploration of the
moon under the Apollo banner, and the earth-orbital portion of Apollo
Applications, which would evolve into Skylab, was split off.*
The development of the spacecraft, rockets, and launch facilities
necessary to accomplish the primary goal of Apollo has been described in
three prior volumes in the NASA history series.**
The story of the lunar spacecraft and the flight program up to the
return of Apollo 11 is detailed in Chariots for Apollo. The
present volume is both a parallel and a sequel to Chariots; it
traces the development of the Apollo science program from the earliest
days and continues the history of the Apollo program, laying major
emphasis on the scientific exploration of the moon conducted on the
later flights, Apollo 12 through Apollo 17.
One issue of great concern to scientists and engineers alike was whether
a trained scientist should be included in the crew of the lunar module.
If the point of man in space was to make best use of the unique
capabilities of humans, would not manned space science require a
professional scientist? Or were the intricacies and potential hazards of
flying the spacecraft so great that only test pilots could be trusted to
lead the missions? Could one professional be sufficiently trained in the
other's skills to be an adequate surrogate? The qualifications of
candidates for selection and training as astronauts, and the choice of
crews for each mission were points that were never really settled during
Apollo and remained a point of contention throughout the project.
Another issue concerned the scientific study of the samples returned
from the missions, which was complicated by the U.S. Public Health
Service's insistence on quarantining everything returned from the moon
until it could be shown that no exotic microorganisms had been
accidentally imported. The Lunar Receiving Laboratory and its role in
the storage, dissemination, and preservation of the lunar samples are
important to the scientific story of Apollo. Finally, this history must
make a first cut at answering the following questions: what have
scientists made of the data produced by Apollo? Do we understand more
about the origin and history of the moon and the solar system as a
result of Apollo's six voyages? Any answers to these questions can only
be provisional since, like all scientific questions, they are subject to
revision as new investigators apply new techniques to the samples. By
the time this history was written, scientists had reached consensus on
very few answers to the questions that lunar exploration hoped to
clarify, but I have tried to summarize their tentative conclusions.
A program as complex as Apollo is not easily handled by a simple
chronological account. In the early stages, from 1961 to roughly the end
of 1966, the several phases of the program had to be hammered out more
or less independently and many complex relationships had to be built.
For those reasons I have organized the early chapters of the book
topically, the better to deal in some detail with these early
developments.
By early 1967 most of the separate elements were in place; then on
January 27, 1967, the program was shaken to its foundations by the
command module fire that killed three astronauts in training for the
first manned Apollo mission. The fire was a watershed for Apollo,
setting back operations by a year or more while NASA and its contractors
examined every detail of spacecraft design, manufacture, and management.
It had almost no negative effect on the science program; in fact, lunar
exploration probably benefited by the delay, which gave some much-needed
time to the development of the lunar surface instruments and the lunar
receiving laboratory. From the fire to the first lunar landing in July
1969, a basically chronological account of development is somewhat more
manageable. The other accident in the Apollo program, the aborted Apollo
13 mission, was deliberately mentioned only briefly in the main text. To
have covered that flight in detail, dramatic as it was, would have
lengthened the story unacceptably; and since other authors have dealt
with it in detail[see Ref. 11-77], I decided to treat the essentials of
the accident, the management of the flight, and the results of the
investigation in appendix 8. The safe return of the crippled spacecraft
and its three crewmen is a monument to the skill and determination of
hundreds of dedicated individuals; the subsequent investigation was a
masterly piece of engineering detective work, lacking a "body"
- the failed spacecraft itself - to provide clues; but space did not
permit full treatment of the flight in all its aspects. As for its
impact on lunar science, Apollo 13 created a delay of a few months,
giving scientists a little breathing space, which they welcomed, to
refine plans for later missions. The loss of one load of lunar samples
and the data from one more set of surface experiments was of small
importance in the end. More than that was lost a few months later when
two of the remaining six missions were canceled.
In writing this history I was granted unrestricted access to the
extensive Historian's Source Files at the Lyndon B. Johnson Space Center
in Houston, to the files in the History Office at NASA Headquarters, and
to documents stored at the various Federal Archives and Records Centers.
To the extent possible within the time constraints of my contract,
participants reviewed my drafts and offered comments. They also
corrected factual errors where they found them. Their comments were
given thoughtful consideration and incorporated into the history
whenever the documentation seemed to support them or when an insider's
viewpoint yielded insights the historian cannot glean from the documents
alone. The interpretations of events here recorded, as well as any
errors that remain, are my responsibility.
I have tried to define fairly and accurately the arguments on both sides
of the scientific and technological issues that bore on the conduct of
the Apollo exploration missions. I found it somewhat difficult to treat
the opposition to the Apollo program voiced by many prominent
scientists. Of course the scientists who spoke against Apollo and later
criticized NASA's management of it were merely exercising their right to
political expression. One reviewer who took exception to my treatment
noted that this was the only avenue open to the scientists, who were put
off by the engineers and had no choice but to "go public" with
their objections, in the hope that political pressure would gain what
their efforts within the system had not. Nevertheless, their objections,
usually based on the unspoken assumption that purely scientific projects
were entitled to privileged treatment, often smacked of intellectual
arrogance. More imitating still - even to an outsider - few of those who
criticized the project wanted to assume any responsibility for managing
it. On the whole the objectors preferred to remain outside, where they
could pursue their rewarding scientific careers while freely criticizing
NASA - often in ignorance of the political, operational, and cost
restrictions within which the space agency had to operate. Those
scientists who made a commitment to the program and stayed with it to
the end, establishing close relationships with mission planners and
scaling their objectives to the capability of the system, deserve more
credit than they usually get for the ultimate scientific productivity of
Apollo. The reader who suspects that I have a lingering bias in favor of
Apollo's engineers is probably correct. I would not dispute the
scientists' assertion that the engineers in charge of Apollo often
seemed to be throwing roadblocks in the way of science. I suggest,
however, that the engineers' reluctance to stretch the missions as far
and as soon as the scientists wanted grew out of a healthy respect for
the limitations of their equipment and procedures. However easy it may
have come to seem, landing on the moon and returning to earth was not a
bit less hazardous on the last mission than on the first. When lives are
at risk, the line between boldness and recklessness can seem narrow to
those who carry the responsibility. NASA and the nation paid the price
of haste on January 28, 1986, when the space shuttle Challenger and its
crew of seven were lost 73 seconds after launch.
One word about terminology. Throughout the text I have used generic
terms like "scientific community" as convenient shorthand,
which may be misunderstood. Obviously no single, homogeneous
"scientific community" exists now, or ever did, and I use the
term only to indicate the source of comments or criticisms. Terms like
"manned space flight enthusiasts,", "Headquarters
officials," or "MSC engineers" only categorize the source
of a comment and do not imply that all persons in that category agreed
with the statement or point of view thus attributed.
W.D.C.
Houston, 1987
* See W. David Compton and Charles D.
Benson, Living and Working in Space: A History of Skylab, NASA
SP-4208 (Washington, 1983).
** Courtney G. Brooks, James M. Grimwood,
and Loyd S. Swenson, Jr.,
Chariots for Apollo: A History of Manned Lunar Spacecraft,
NASA SP-4205 (Washington, 1979); Roger E. Bilstein, Stages to Saturn:
A Technological History of the Apollo/Saturn Launch Vehicles, NASA
SP-4206 (Washington, 1980); Charles D. Benson and William Barnaby
Faherty,
Moonport: A History of Apollo Launch Facilities and
Operations, NASA SP-4204 (Washington, 1978).]
|