Friday, Mar. 14, 1969

A Spectacular Step Toward Lunar Landing

AT first it was only a tiny speck in the sky. Then, as Astronaut David Scott peered through the window of Apollo 9's orbiting command module, the speck grew into the most ungainly manned craft ever sent into orbit. Said Scott: "You're the biggest, friendliest, funniest-looking spider I've ever seen." He was talking to the lunar module, known as Spider, and it bore two other astronauts who had earlier left Scott to guide it through space. By flying their ship through orbital maneuvers designed to simulate those to be used by astronauts returning from the surface of the moon, Astronauts James McDivitt and Russell Schweickart rendezvoused with Apollo 9 and Scott, then docked with the command module.

"O.K., Houston, we're locked up," Scott radioed to ground controllers. "Wow!" exclaimed McDivitt after a tone signal confirmed that the two ships were firmly joined. "I haven't heard a sound that good for a long time."

McDivitt had good reason to be elated. Last week's docking marked the successful conclusion of a complex and dangerous operation. It provided the final evidence that the lunar module, plagued with problems during its testing on earth, was really spaceworthy. It also immeasurably boosted prospects that U.S. astronauts would set foot on the moon this summer.

Ten hours earlier, McDivitt and Schweickart had crawled from Gumdrop--the Apollo command and service module--and made their way through a narrow tunnel into Spider. Then, after a few uneasy moments when the docking mechanism snagged, Scott worked Gumdrop loose and fired his thrusters briefly to separate the two craft. With McDivitt at the controls, Spider shoved off onto its maiden solo flight. It moved into a different orbit from Gumdrop's and at one point fell more than 100 miles behind. Then McDivitt began maneuvering back toward the suspenseful rendezvous and docking. Had they not been able to re-enter Gumdrop's cabins, McDivitt and Schweickart would have been doomed. Designed to operate only in the vacuum of space, Spider has no heat shield and would have burned up while re-entering the earth's atmosphere.

Canceled Space Walk. Spider's return to Gumdrop was the highlight of the mission, which began last week after a three-day delay to allow the astronauts to recover from troublesome colds. Launched by a Saturn 5 rocket into a near-perfect orbit, Gumdrop, in flawless sequence, separated from the third-stage S-4B rocket, pivoted in space, hooked up with Spider and plucked it out of the nose of the orbiting S-4B. On the third day, Astronauts McDivitt and Schweickart got ready to enter Spider through the 47-in.-long, 32-in.-diameter connecting tunnel.

For the first time, there was trouble on the mission. Soon after taking a motion-sickness pill, Schweickart vomited. After recovering, he and McDivitt crawled into Spider, then he vomited again. Concerned, McDivitt used a private communications channel to inform ground controllers about Schweickart's problems. Fearful that the rookie astronaut might become ill again, NASA officials decided to cancel his scheduled space walk the following morning. If he vomited while wearing his helmet in space, he might well choke to death.

Growing Resentment. Schweickart's sickness triggered a larger crisis on earth than it did in space. There has been growing embarrassment and resentment among the astronauts over the disclosures of their diarrhea and nausea attacks, and Head Astronaut "Deke" Slayton insisted that news of Schweickart's illness be withheld. Robert Gilruth, director of the Manned Spacecraft Center, and other NASA officials disagreed and joined in a heated argument.

When Gilruth finally ruled that the tape of Schweickart's private conversation be withheld but that a paraphrased version be released to the press, the astronauts at the Houston center were furious. "I'll never tell the ground a goddam thing from up there," one ground-bound astronaut vowed. After a number of frantic calls to Washington, the warring factions reached Thomas Paine, who had just been sworn in by President Nixon as NASA's new administrator. Paine agreed that the tape should be withheld, but the delay and confusion --and a tension-packed press conference later--created hard feelings among many space reporters, who suspected NASA of suppressing vital information.

Gymnastics and Banter. The dustup was short-lived. By next morning Schweickart was feeling so chipper that he and McDivitt decided on their own to proceed with most of the originally planned space walk. Ground controllers could only reply, "O.K., that's your judgment there and we say go ahead if you feel that way."

Schweickart floated feet first out of the hatch and anchored his feet on Spider's platform. While McDivitt shot movies of his exploit, he peered at the earth and described the magnificent view. Then, sustained only by the 80-Ib. portable life-support system (PLSS) strapped to his back (the same device that astronauts will wear on the lunar surface), the red-haired astronaut pulled his feet out of the glass fiber slippers that held him in place and began to move up Spider's handrail toward Gumdrop. He tried some space gymnastics, angling his body away from the spacecraft. All the while, he engaged in radio banter with McDivitt in Spider and Scott in Gumdrop, identifying himself by an apt code name: Red Rover.

During the 40-minute space walk, the astronauts were so preoccupied and talkative that they ignored repeated requests for contact from the ground communicator: "Red Rover, do you read? Gumdrop, do you read? Hey, does anyone up there read me?" Only on the tenth call, after Schweickart had re-entered Spider and secured the hatch, did the astronauts acknowledge the ground and confirm that all was well.

The successful space walk, the eighth for U.S. astronauts, proved the design of the vital PLSS and demonstrated that astronauts can use the exterior handrail to move between Spider and Gumdrop if the tunnel between the two craft should ever become blocked. Most uncertainties about the exercise vanished; it seemed astonishingly easy. Announced NASA Public Affairs Officer Jack Riley, after Schweickart had closed the hatch: "You heard it here, live, firsthand--the adventures of Red Rover and his friends, Spider and Gumdrop."

"Mascon" Problems. Although the ten-day adventure will not really end until Gumdrop splashes down in the Pacific this week, the successful rendezvous and docking spawned speculation last week that the U.S. manned lunar landing might be advanced by about a month.

According to the current schedule, Apollo 10 will head for the moon on May 17, carrying an overweight (too heavy to make a lunar takeoff) Spider. While Gumdrop orbits the moon at a height of 70 miles, Spider will detach and fly two astronauts to within ten miles of the lunar surface. An actual landing, though, is scheduled only for Apollo 11 's Spider in mid-July.

Some confident NASA officials have been urging that the Apollo 11 flight be moved up to June, the earliest it could be launched. More cautious types, principally at the Manned Spacecraft Center in Houston, feel that Spider should be tested at least once more before a landing. They are also concerned about variations in the moon's gravitational field, which may be caused by dense concentrations of mass just below the lunar surface. Those "mascons" caused Apollo 8 to lag as much as three miles behind and 2,500 ft. above or below its earth-calculated position. To study them with proper care, the lunar orbital flight of Apollo 10 would have to be extended for a day to allow further mapping of the moon's gravitational field. If that were done, Apollo 11's Spider would have less chance of encountering navigational surprises that might endanger its July landing.

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