I was born and raised in the South Bay area of Los Angeles, CA, which put me in one of the major epicenters of the Lunar landing program. To say that interest in that effort was high around here in those days was putting it mildly. The triumph of Apollo 11 was sweet validation to the people in this region, as I'm sure it was to the folks on Long Island, NY, where the Lunar Module was built in Grumman's Bethpage facility.
But the flight of Apollo 13 was unique on many levels, and as powerful and dramatic as that episode was, it was the aftermath of their journey that would provide my personal link to the Lunar program, one that has resurfaced time and again since that fateful voyage.
I originally wrote this piece for the 40th anniversary of the Apollo 13 mission. As we have just commemorated the 44th anniversary of the Apollo 11 Lunar landing last weekend (July 20), and with the passing a few months ago of Neil Armstrong, the first man to walk on the Moon, I thought it appropriate to post this now in remembrance of those amazing times. I hope you enjoy it.
This article originally appeared in the Northrop Grumman Engineering Department's in-house magazine VelocitE, vol. 2, number 7, April 2010. It is posted here with permission and has approved for public release case number 12-1506.
One note of correction: In the caption on the Lunar Excursion Module Descent Engine, I say there is a model of the engine in the lobby of the E-2 Building at Northrop Grumman's Space Park facility. It is more than that. It is actually a full-size engineering mockup of the LEMDE.
“The Last 300,000 Miles Are On Us”
By Tony Chong
Forty years ago, in April of 1970, Apollo 13 and its crew were
en-route to the Moon, intent on making the third successful American manned landing
on the lunar surface in less than a year.
The target site was the highlands around the Fra Mauro crater, near the
center of the visible face of the full Moon.
The initial stage of the voyage seemed “routine;” so much so that the
major television networks did not carry the astronauts’ live broadcast beamed
back to Earth from the spacecraft.
But that all changed in an instant, as that routine,
un-newsworthy transit turned into a desperate fight for survival that gripped
the world’s attention as the collective skill and ingenuity of the crew,
mission control and the engineers of both NASA and its contractors were tested
to the limit. What could have resulted
in the catastrophic loss of three astronauts in deep space became instead what
many consider to be NASA’s finest hour.
On April 13, 1970, a wiring short-circuit started a fire
inside the number 2 oxygen tank in Bay Four of Apollo 13’s Service Module. The tank ruptured, blowing off the bay’s
exterior panel and damaging the high-gain antenna. The number 1 oxygen tank in Bay Four
sustained damage as well and slowly vented it contents into space.
Vacating the crippled Command Module, aptly named Odyssey, Commander
James Lovell, Command Module Pilot Jack Swigert and Lunar Module Pilot Fred
Haise occupied the hastily powered-up Lunar Module, turning the two-man lander
into a three-man lifeboat.
Ungainly looking and too frail to operate in Earth’s gravity,
the LM is still the only manned vehicle to land on another planetary body. Built by heritage-Grumman in Bethpage, NY,
the Lunar Module, named Aquarius by the crew, sustained the three men for 86+
hours, over double the designated mission plan of 36 hours for two men.
Pressed into a situation that was only remotely perceived as
ever becoming necessary, Aquarius performed its new role magnificently. Even so, the crew faced numerous hardships
and obstacles on their long voyage home.
Running on minimal power and life support to preserve
precious energy and consumables, the lander became a cold, dark and barely
hospitable refuge. Survival was possible
only by the crew’s steady performance in the emergency and by the hard work and
desperate innovation displayed by flight operations, astronauts and engineers
on the ground. In one memorable example
they modified the Odyssey’s square carbon dioxide scrubbers, using available
materials on hand in the spacecraft, so those scrubbers could be used in
Aquarius once that vehicle’s round cartridges became saturated.
But in such a time-critical event, a lifeboat is no good
without a motor. Fearing damage to the
Service Module’s main engine – a fear confirmed once Odyssey separated for
re-entry – the direct abort option was closed.
The free return trajectory was not an option either due to the altered
path taken for the Fra Mauro landing site.
The LM needed to use its landing motor to get Apollo 13 back on the
proper return track for home.
Once again, the product of another Northrop Grumman-heritage
company came to the rescue with a flawless performance. The TRW-built Lunar Excursion Module Descent
Engine (LEMDE), with a maximum thrust of about 9,900 lbs, executed two
mid-course bursts and a 4.5 minute burn on the far side of the Moon that
corrected Apollo 13’s trajectory and boosted its velocity, shaving off a
critical half-day’s time in transit. An impressed
and thankful crew told an assembly of TRW employees after the mission that they
should change the company’s LEMDE advertising slogan from “the last 10 miles
are on us” to “the last 300,000 miles are on us.”
In retrospect it was fortunate the explosion occurred two
days into the outward bound portion of the journey. If it happened after Aquarius landed on the
Moon, or after it was jettisoned prior to the journey home, the Lunar Module
would not have been available for use.
In a mission gone horribly wrong it was one of the few things that stayed
right. Combined with the perseverance of
the crew and the dedication of all on the ground, Apollo 13’s successful
conclusion became a symbol for the triumph of the human spirit.
Sidebar
When Jim Lovell, Jack Swigert and Fred Haise addressed that
TRW audience on May 6, 1970, three weeks after their Pacific splash-down, employees
and the media weren’t the only people in attendance that day. The Aviation High School Falcon Orchestra Band,
whose campus was then adjacent to the TRW Space Park facility, was there
providing musical entertainment before and after the appearance of the
astronauts.
This writer was a sophomore trumpet player in that band, and
while the memory of what was said or played that day has disappeared in the
mists of the past, the impressions and energy of the event remain vivid. The sense of relief and thankfulness felt by
everyone there was palpable, but so was the employee exhilaration and pride in
the performance of the LEMDE, noticeable even to a young teenage boy.
A child of the space age – one of my strongest memories is
of my mother waking me up early in the morning to watch John Glenn’s “Friendship
7” launch when he became the first American to orbit the Earth – the awe of
seeing real live astronauts in person, especially the Apollo 13 crew, made a
definite impression on me.
But what impressed me the most about that crew was their
graciousness and kindness toward one of our band members. In the middle of a hectic and tiring whirlwind
tour that would take them around the world, they stopped to say a few private
words to our blind cymbal player when asked to by our director, Richard
Power. It was a thrill for her and for
the rest of us.
No other astronauts, save John Glenn and the Apollo 11 crew,
have generated that same level of response from the American public or the
world. The epic voyage of Apollo 13
connected with the average person on a visceral, primal level beyond simple
description. As they struggled and endured
and overcame impossible odds to survive, their strength and character in the
midst of disaster endeared them to all.
It made them heroes in the purest sense of the word.
Addendums:
In conjunction with the 1995 Hawthorne Air Faire, Eugene
Kranz was awarded the City of Hawthorne Chamber of Commerce “Cradle of
Aviation” Award. The award was made in
the Northrop Grumman Display Model Shop, where I had just become lead.
Kranz was the White Team Lead Flight Director on Apollo
13. Fred Haise attended the event in
support of Kranz. Haise retired from
NASA in 1979 and joined heritage-Grumman that year. He retired from Northrop Grumman in 1996.
I also attended that award banquet and had the chance to
meet and briefly chat with Fred Haise and Gene Kranz, making the Apollo 13 saga
even more personal than it was before.
In 2005 the circle became complete when I found a picture in
the official TRW 100 year history book of the astronauts’ visit to Space
Park. A query to the photo department at
Space Park yielded several shots of the event with me clearly visible in the
band. These were the first photos I had
ever seen of that day.
My thanks to: Suzanne Fuentes, Karen Holmbeck, Paul Morgan
and all the other good folks who were in the Space Park photo department in
2005.
Photo Captions:
1. The Apollo 13 crew: Jim Lovell (left), Jack
Swigert (center) and Fred Haise (right).
Swigert and Haize were civilian astronauts. Lovell was a US Navy Captain. Ken Mattingly, a US Navy Lt Commander,
was the original Command Module Pilot, but was scrubbed at the last minute
due to exposure to the measles. Photo credit: NASA
2. A view
of the damaged Service Module after separation prior to re-entry. Aquarius is still attached to Odyssey. The service panel on Bay Four is gone
and extensive debris is seen hanging out of the interior. Damage to the bell
nozzle on the SM main engine was confirmed by the crew after visual
inspection. Fortunately the heat
shield on Odyssey was not damaged. Photo credit: NASA (Apollo 13 crew)
3. A view of Aquarius after separation prior to re-entry. Odyssey was re-activated at the last minute
as battery power in the CM was low, especially for the parachutes. One of the three batteries was projected
to fail at main chute release. Photo credit: NASA (Apollo 13 crew)
4. Odyssey splashes down in the Pacific Ocean. A third Northrop Grumman-heritage
company product – Northrop Ventura Division (ex-Radioplane) – designed and
produced the three-parachute recovery system. Photo
credit: NASA
5. A photo of the square-shaped CM carbon dioxide scrubbers attached
to the round fitting on Aquarius.
Duct tape was involved, validating all men’s affinity for the
product. The crew called the
jury-rigged arrangement the “mail box.”
Photo credit: NASA (Apollo
13 crew)
6. A staged photo showing engineers and technicians hoisting a
Lunar Excursion Module Descent Engine.
A full-size model of the LEMDE is in the lobby of the E-2 building,
AS Sector Headquarters, in Space Park, Redondo Beach. Photo
credit: Northrop Grumman (legacy TRW)
7. A shot of the famous TRW ad
that Jim Lovell modified in his tribute to TRW employees. As a side note, Grumman sent North
America Rockwell, the builders of the Command Module, a gag bill for
$312,421.24 for “towing charges.” Photo credit: Northrop Grumman (legacy
TRW)
8. Apollo 13 astronauts address TRW employees on 6 May, 1970. Standing at the podium is Jim
Lovell. Jack Swigert is to the
audience’s left; Fred Haise is to the right. The Aviation High School band is to the
left of the stage. The Apollo 13
mission badge, seen on the podium, was retrieved by us after the event and
mounted in a place of honor in the band room. It was still there when I graduated in
1972; I assume it was still there when the high school was closed and torn
down in 1982. I have no idea what
happened to it after that. Photo credit: Northrop Grumman (legacy
TRW)
9. Richard Power (back to photo) directs the Falcon Orchestra
Band. I am in the white circle near
the back row. Photo credit: Northrop Grumman (legacy TRW)
10. Jim Lovell stops to talk to senior Jeanette
Galbreath. Totally blind at an
early age she was determined to do everything sighted kids could. She became a cymbalist in the marching
and orchestra bands and, with a classmate guiding her by the elbow, did
all the marching and halftime routines like everyone else. She never missed a cue and was one of
the nicest, bravest and most competent people I’ve ever known. Photo
credit: Northrop Grumman (legacy TRW)
Northrop Grumman approved for public release case number 12-1506
