Read Highways Into Space: A first-hand account of the beginnings of the human space program Online
Authors: Glynn S. Lunney
Tags: #General Non-Fiction
The next meeting was in late May 1962. Agreement was reached on weather satellite measuring plans, study of Earth’s magnetic field and some optical tracking by the USSR of the Echo balloon satellite. Interestingly, these agreements were being signed off in October, about the time of the Cuban Missile Crisis.
Another major development occurred a little later as a result of a visit by Sir Bernard Lovell, Director of the Jodrell Bank Radio and Telescope Facility, to inspect the Soviet tracking facilities. He brought a startling report back to NASA. Mstislav Keldysh was the president of the Soviet Academy of Science and told him that they were postponing their manned lunar program because there was no practical solution for protection against the radiation of solar flares, there was not enough capability to deliver sufficient mass to the lunar surface and it could be done better with robots. This must have caused significant consternation in Washington, but, in a short time, President Kennedy decided that there were still valid reasons to stay the course and there was not any certainty that the Soviets were delaying or stopping their manned program.
On September 20 1963, another option was offered by President Kennedy in a UN speech--- a joint mission to the moon and a very big change. More consternation for everyone involved. NASA spokespersons said they were in favor of cooperation but it was much more difficult to integrate (the hardware and personnel) into a joint program than it was to coordinate agreements between two separate teams. In the wider political community, there was limited support for a bold proposal in the name of cooperation and there certainly were a lot of new risks and dependencies.
President Kennedy was killed in November. By December, the Congress had decided to preclude any funds from being used for a joint mission. The subject of a joint mission was shelved. The decision was made to re-scope the bilateral negotiations to smaller subjects. By 1965, there had been no real progress on this front. By December 1965, Dr. Dryden finally succumbed to an illness that had been with him for years. The bilateral space talks ended. (My personal opinion is that the death of President Kennedy did not cause this outcome. Given the state of the global competition, it may well have been inevitable.)
And so, the U.S. program accelerated through the experiences and rigors of the Gemini program, designed to test in earth orbit as many capabilities needed for the Moon missions as practical. Once flying, Apollo moved rapidly towards the lunar landing. On the U.S. side, a new leader began to emerge. Dr. Tom Paine joined NASA in February 1968 as Deputy to then Administrator, James Webb, and was subsequently appointed as Administrator in March of 1969 when James Webb retired. Dr. Paine came to NASA convinced that NASA needed to evolve from a fundamental mission based on Cold War competition to a leader in international cooperation. In April, he initiated correspondence with Academician Blagonravov of the Soviet Academy of Sciences and now Chairman of the Academy’s Commission on Exploration and Use of Space. Paine offered the opportunity to fly Russian experiments on U.S. satellites, a somewhat open-ended offer to “break the ice.” This offer stayed on the table, but several meeting opportunities were missed because of the press of business for either of the principals. Paine continued to pursue with an offer to Blagonravov to attend the Apollo XI launch. That was declined. In fairness, one of the savvy NASA executives in HQ observed that Blagonravov had talked about retirement (and was of an age for it) and he probably did not want to sponsor another major new initiative within his own bureaucracy.
After Apollo XI, Premier Kosygin offered congratulations to Vice President Humphrey and expressed interest in discussions of space cooperation. There were public comments of praise from Feoktistov, cosmonaut and designer, and Boris Petrov, whom we would later meet as a senior executive guiding their ASTP efforts. Paine then renewed his efforts, this time in correspondence with Academician Keldysh, the head of the Soviet Academy of Sciences, and offered the invitation to attend a meeting in September to review the experiment proposals for the Mars Viking mission and contribute Soviet proposals. There was not sufficient time for the other side to settle on experiments to propose. Paine continued with sending a package of the report of the Space Task Group, headed by Vice President Agnew, and charting the next stage of American manned space plans. Academician Keldysh responded in a positive fashion.
Dr. Paine persisted. And on his way to the Pacific to welcome the Apollo XI crew home, he flew with President Nixon, Secretary Rogers, Henry Kissinger and others. He brought up the possibility of cooperation in the manned space program to enhance safety by developing compatible docking systems and guidance equipment. This proposal played into the Nixon/Kissinger strategy, known as detente. It was a way to create another relationship with the Soviet Union. It was hoped that, with enough of these positive relationships, the competition between the powers could be gradually ameliorated.
In this case, the proposal resulted in chartering an interagency committee, which endorsed the idea of “compatible” solutions. NASA HQ chartered a small team of technical people to consider options and their work even included the possibility of a test mission with existing and/or upcoming flight programs. Coincident with this work were several positive developments – Neil Armstrong reception by the Soviets at the COSPAR meeting, Low and Keldysh had positive interaction at the same meeting and a separate meeting of Phil Handler of the U.S. National Academy of Sciences with counterparts in the Soviet Academy. Paine sent another letter on September 4, 1970, expressing strong NASA interest in common docking systems AND he raised the possibility of a test flight with a Soviet spacecraft docking with the US Skylab, scheduled for 1973. Keldysh sent a letter that crossed in the mail, outlining his specific recommendations for an agenda. More letters followed and the first meeting was scheduled for October 26 through 28, 1970, in Moscow. Our team traveled to Washington to review our respective presentations and receive some background from the interested agencies in Washington. The tone I recall was one of, “Don’t expect too much. Any progress, if any, will be slow.” I do not recall hearing any of HQ’s opinion on the previous suggestions of an early flight test of our results.
I had limited knowledge of the broader historical background except for an awareness that President Kennedy had discussed the possibility of a joint mission to the moon at the U.N. much earlier in 1963.
At first, I came to this discussion of a trip to Moscow in complete surprise, and then learned of the recent, higher-level Paine/Keldysh agreement to discuss the possibility of making rendezvous and docking systems compatible in some way. The context was to enable the rescue of stranded crewmen in orbit, an extension of the maritime parallel for providing assistance at sea. It was readily seen as a humanitarian effort to enhance the safety of subsequent space travelers. It had to be an accident of timing but there was an American movie, Marooned, that year portraying the rescue of an American crew by a cosmonaut. Even so, some on both sides harbored reservations about this cooperation. Another irony was that Dr. Paine, the initiator and advocate, resigned in September 1970 for personal reasons before our first Moscow trip in October.
I am sure that Dr. Gilruth, the Director of the Manned Spacecraft Center, was briefed on all of the history since he would be the head of this delegation. I had known Dr. Gilruth from a distance for years and saw his hand in the workings of MSC. He was highly respected and admired by all who worked with him. Further, Chris Kraft always made his respect for Dr. Gilruth, his boss, evident to all of us who worked for him. I was looking forward to this opportunity of working more closely with Dr. Gilruth.
The delegation included Dr. Gilruth, of course, Caldwell Johnson, a designer from the Engineering Directorate, and myself from the Operations Directorate. Also on the team were George Hardy from MSFC and Arnold Frutkin from NASA Headquarters, and the International Affairs Chief was also there. In retrospect, I wonder if they considered the option to fill us in on all of the background or whether they decided to let us play the hand without preconditioning. Perhaps, they did not concern themselves with our state of knowledge of the history and selected us because they counted on us to react to the circumstances as we evaluated the situation. That would be my guess and it was typical of the trust that flowed through our organization. I was just seeing it in action at a new level.
October 1970 Visit from left: Lunney, Shatalov from right: Feoktistov, CC Johnson, Frutkin, Dr. Gilruth
My career in manned space started with a drawing (inboard profile) of what became the Mercury spacecraft, which was drawn by Caldwell in 1958. I never before had a chance to work with Caldwell up close, but his earlier drawing was recommendation enough for me. Caldwell had also worked in the early program management of Apollo and now worked for Max Faget, the legendary designer of manned space vehicles. George Hardy was a designer from the MSFC and knew the Skylab program. He was on the team because Skylab might have become part of this cooperative initiative. George also represented the inclusion of MSFC in these discussions. To me, Arnold Frutkin was a completely new entity. He had long experience in arranging cooperative international efforts in NASA’s scientific projects. But this was his first in manned space. Throughout the entire project, Arnold was constructive and especially helpful in steering us through this new world of international negotiations. Our interpreter was Bill Krimer, whom I understood to have experience as an interpreter in the Strategic Arms Limitation Talks (SALT), a very high profile role. This was a good team. And we soon went off to Moscow, Russia, each with our own thoughts, and – at least in my case – some trepidation about how this trip would unfold.
So we went there. It was October of 1970. We made good travel plans by leaving on Friday, the twenty-third of the month, and arriving in Moscow on Saturday evening. It was cold with snow on the ground and seemed forbidding. The airport security was provided by armed soldiers and there seemed to be a lot of them. Dr. Gilruth picked out our welcoming party and was relieved to see the smiles and friendly manner of our hosts, about five of them, waiting to assist us through the arrival process. The reception was positive, welcoming and made us feel optimistic about our upcoming meeting. In the airport, we met Cosmonaut Feoktistov and Academician Boris Petrov. As it turned out, Feoktistov participated in one more meeting in January 1971. After that last appearance, Academician Petrov became the senior executive for most of our subsequent meetings.
A real reminder that we were in a different land was underlined by the answer to our questions regarding large structures of beams or I-beams rising out of the ground along the road just outside the airport. They represented Soviet anti-tank defenses, at the point of the closest advance of the Nazi-led German army to Moscow. Within an hour, we arrived at the Russiya hotel. The Russiya was about a block from Red Square, the location of Lenin’s tomb and those military parades I had watched all of my adult life. I was ready for a night’s sleep.
But, our hosts had arranged a dinner and then a driving tour of the city. Most notable for me was the view from the Lenin Hills. It was rather other worldly. At night, with very little traffic in the capitol, we were overlooking the Kremlin and the city with its lights, now covered by a blanket of fresh snow as its stage. Strange to be seeing this forbidden city of Moscow this way.
On Sunday morning, we went to Star City, about a forty-five minute drive from downtown. We were warmly received by the Commandant General Kuznetsov and escorted by General Beregovoy and Colonel Shatalov, who later became a regular participant on crew matters once the project got underway. Star City was more than the equivalent to a NASA center. It was also the home base for the military cosmonauts where they and their families lived. There were lots of young children to be seen around what you would think of as the campus of Star City. I understood that the civilian cosmonauts like Valerie Kubasov, who flew with Colonel Leonov on ASTP, lived in the city in what we would call condos or apartments.
We visited the training facility and toured the mockups. The two manned compartments of the Soyuz vehicle had different functions. They were stacked on top of an unmanned module that housed many of the propulsion elements and supported the solar arrays and other equipment. The service module was similar in function to the equipment adapter in Gemini and the service module in Apollo. In all these vehicles, the rear section of this service module was attached to the top of the launch vehicle. The manned module on top of the service module was the “cockpit” module. It was, and still is, the portion of the vehicle that serves as the reentry module with heat protection and parachutes. It is also where the cosmonauts perform control functions for ascent to orbit and reentry. It is approximately the shape of a gumdrop. The internal volume of this module, housing the three crewmen for launch and entry, is a tight fit with not a lot of spare space. And that is for the current flight configuration without bulky pressure suits. (It is not for “tall” crewmembers.) Forward of the cockpit module is the orbital module that is almost spherical with dimensions of approximately seven to eight feet. The two manned modules were connected and had internal hatches for access. The orbital module felt roomy and was used as a living quarters – eating, sleeping, exercise, some experiments. On the external front of the orbital module was the docking system and an internal hatch system for transfer to another vehicle or to conduct an EVA.