Moonshot: The Inside Story of Mankind's Greatest Adventure by Dan Parry Page B
Authors: Dan Parry
Tags: United States, General, science, History, Technology & Engineering, Astrophysics & Space Science, Astronomy, Aeronautics & Astronautics
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down, 220 feet, 13 forward,' said Buzz, reporting on the lunar module's rate of descent, altitude and velocity.
There was no response from Houston.
'11 forward. Coming down nicely.
'200, 4½ down.
'5½ down.
'160, 6 to 6½ down.
'5½ down, 9 forward. That's good.
'120 feet.
'100 feet, 3½ down, 9 forward. Five per cent.
'OK. 75 feet. And it's looking good. Down a half, 6 forward.'
A curt announcement of '60 seconds' from the ground reminded the crew that soon they must land or attempt to abort. To Armstrong, fuel getting low and time running out were mere parts of an equation. There was no need nor time to discuss them with Buzz. Nor did he say much to Houston, only occasionally pressing the switch that would transmit his words. A man with a cool yet agile mind, Neil's ability to conceal much of it from the world was something the world occasionally found frustrating. It barely mattered to Neil that they were now three miles beyond the ideal landing zone, that communications were patchy and that the fuel was low; what mattered as he searched for a safe spot to land was that there were rocks below. The fuel was a concern, but he believed he had enough to do the job.
Supporting Neil with a constant account of their position, Buzz continued to read aloud from the instruments: '4 forward. 4 forward. Drifting to the right a little. OK. Down a half.'
'30 seconds,' called Mission Control.
With their role on this phase of the mission coming to a close, the flight controllers were now no more than spectators, like everybody else. In truth, nothing needed to be said. It was down to Armstrong.
Chapter 3
MOVING TARGETS
With three of the command module's five windows covered by a protective shroud, the cabin was illuminated by a scattering of small lights that cast reflections in the men's transparent helmets. Lying on their backs and surrounded by dull grey hardware, Armstrong, Collins and Aldrin were busy making their final checks. An hour and 20 minutes before lift-off, still scheduled for 9.32am, Neil was monitoring the guidance system, his right elbow brushing against Buzz. Above, beneath and around them lay stowage lockers, harness supports, manuals and checklists, batteries, two computer displays, fire protection panels, 12 reaction control engines, pyrotechnic devices, helium tanks, drinking water facilities and 57 instrument panels supporting more than 800 switches and gauges. Tucked away were tapes containing music selected by the crew, and an opal chosen by Guenter Wendt which was to be presented to Mrs Wendt after it had travelled to the Moon and back. As well as items necessary for Holy Communion, among them a small quantity of wine, the men were also taking with them 2.4 ounces of plutonium 238, intended to heat one of the lunar experiments; snacks such as bacon squares, and meals including spaghetti and meat sauce; fragments of Flyer , the Wright Brothers' aircraft that was the first to achieve powered flight; two full-size American flags at the request of Congress; and TV broadcasting equipment for the benefit of the rest of the world.
If successful in reaching its destination, Apollo 11 promised to take mankind somewhere new – and it seemed to the crew that virtually all of mankind had given them a trinket to take along for the ride. For Michael there was a sense of tension that came 'mostly from an appreciation of the enormity of our undertaking rather than from the unfamiliarity of the situation. I am far from certain that we will be able to fly the mission as planned. I think we will escape with our skins, or at least I will escape with mine, but I wouldn't give better than even odds on a successful landing and return. There are just too many things that can go wrong'. 1 Squashed in beside Buzz, Michael had minor tasks to complete, 'nickel and dime stuff' as he called it. 'In between switch throws I have plenty of time to think, if not daydream. Here I am, a white male, age thirty-eight, height 5 feet 11 inches,
There was no response from Houston.
'11 forward. Coming down nicely.
'200, 4½ down.
'5½ down.
'160, 6 to 6½ down.
'5½ down, 9 forward. That's good.
'120 feet.
'100 feet, 3½ down, 9 forward. Five per cent.
'OK. 75 feet. And it's looking good. Down a half, 6 forward.'
A curt announcement of '60 seconds' from the ground reminded the crew that soon they must land or attempt to abort. To Armstrong, fuel getting low and time running out were mere parts of an equation. There was no need nor time to discuss them with Buzz. Nor did he say much to Houston, only occasionally pressing the switch that would transmit his words. A man with a cool yet agile mind, Neil's ability to conceal much of it from the world was something the world occasionally found frustrating. It barely mattered to Neil that they were now three miles beyond the ideal landing zone, that communications were patchy and that the fuel was low; what mattered as he searched for a safe spot to land was that there were rocks below. The fuel was a concern, but he believed he had enough to do the job.
Supporting Neil with a constant account of their position, Buzz continued to read aloud from the instruments: '4 forward. 4 forward. Drifting to the right a little. OK. Down a half.'
'30 seconds,' called Mission Control.
With their role on this phase of the mission coming to a close, the flight controllers were now no more than spectators, like everybody else. In truth, nothing needed to be said. It was down to Armstrong.
Chapter 3
MOVING TARGETS
With three of the command module's five windows covered by a protective shroud, the cabin was illuminated by a scattering of small lights that cast reflections in the men's transparent helmets. Lying on their backs and surrounded by dull grey hardware, Armstrong, Collins and Aldrin were busy making their final checks. An hour and 20 minutes before lift-off, still scheduled for 9.32am, Neil was monitoring the guidance system, his right elbow brushing against Buzz. Above, beneath and around them lay stowage lockers, harness supports, manuals and checklists, batteries, two computer displays, fire protection panels, 12 reaction control engines, pyrotechnic devices, helium tanks, drinking water facilities and 57 instrument panels supporting more than 800 switches and gauges. Tucked away were tapes containing music selected by the crew, and an opal chosen by Guenter Wendt which was to be presented to Mrs Wendt after it had travelled to the Moon and back. As well as items necessary for Holy Communion, among them a small quantity of wine, the men were also taking with them 2.4 ounces of plutonium 238, intended to heat one of the lunar experiments; snacks such as bacon squares, and meals including spaghetti and meat sauce; fragments of Flyer , the Wright Brothers' aircraft that was the first to achieve powered flight; two full-size American flags at the request of Congress; and TV broadcasting equipment for the benefit of the rest of the world.
If successful in reaching its destination, Apollo 11 promised to take mankind somewhere new – and it seemed to the crew that virtually all of mankind had given them a trinket to take along for the ride. For Michael there was a sense of tension that came 'mostly from an appreciation of the enormity of our undertaking rather than from the unfamiliarity of the situation. I am far from certain that we will be able to fly the mission as planned. I think we will escape with our skins, or at least I will escape with mine, but I wouldn't give better than even odds on a successful landing and return. There are just too many things that can go wrong'. 1 Squashed in beside Buzz, Michael had minor tasks to complete, 'nickel and dime stuff' as he called it. 'In between switch throws I have plenty of time to think, if not daydream. Here I am, a white male, age thirty-eight, height 5 feet 11 inches,
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