Mission to Mars (11 page)

SpaceX Dragon cargo craft reaches the International Space Station, October 2012
.

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Illustration Credit 3.12
)

My Apollo program colleague astronaut Rusty Schweickart helped round out the fanfare, calling the arrival and docking of the Dragon space capsule at the ISS more than historic. “It is, in fact, the beginning of a new era in space exploration, one in which private industry and individual initiative will begin leading the way in the use of near-space activity,” said Schweickart, echoing my beliefs. “This is not only exciting and momentous, but is fully in keeping with the American character of risk taking and consequent reward. The long-term results of this ‘first’
are beyond our ability to see at the beginning of this era, but there is no doubt that it will serve as a huge incentive for young people who now have firm evidence of the value, and opportunity for individual initiative,” he added. “Near-Earth space is now firmly a regular part of the human environment along with the air, water, and land. The future is now, once again, opened to imagination, creativity, and dreams!”

I applaud all these comments and see the achievement by commercial rocketeer Elon Musk and his SpaceX team as a first step. Others will follow, cultivating new capabilities that drive down costs and further secure a private-sector toehold in low Earth orbit.

Buzz Aldrin salutes the flag at Tranquillity Base: his proudest moment
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Illustration Credit 3.13
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People often ask me to recount my Apollo 11 moonwalking experiences, my reminiscences of being on the moon. When I reflect on that magical, transformative moment in my life, several things jump out at me.

One thing to keep in mind: President Kennedy said send a man to the moon and bring him back safely—
a
man. We could have satisfied that goal by having a person land on the lunar surface, look out the window, maybe deploy a robot, but not open the hatch to the environment. Instead, we chose to have two astronauts moonwalk because of the buddy system.

Thanks to that decision, Neil Armstrong and I stood on the shores of an inhospitable, desolate yet magnificent landscape. Looking at Earth from that perspective, everything I knew and
loved lay suspended overhead, residing on a small, fragile, bright blue sphere engulfed by the blackness of space.

What I didn’t anticipate until my return to Earth is that America’s success in achieving the first landing of humans on the moon was viewed as a success for
all
humankind. Now that’s a buddy system! People from every part of the world took pride in collectively declaring, “We did it.” Second, in undertaking the Apollo 11 mission, there was a rediscovery of our own precious planet Earth. It’s a very special cradle of life that we all reside on.

My stay on the moon is filled with countless other recollections as well.

Once I set foot on the moon, I checked my balance and peed in my space suit’s urine collector. I took note that each time I put my foot down there was a spray of dust. And when that dust hit the ground it changed in albedo—in reflectivity and color.

In looking back at that moment in time, putting aside all the pre-mission training, there wasn’t a big picture in my mind of the sequence of what we were doing. We did take some pictures walking around the lunar module. We looked for any damage on the
Eagle
and at what the ground looked like underneath our lander. By the way, when I got through walking around the
Eagle
, snapping photos, I gave the camera to Neil. He took most of the pictures. I’m not trying to ease out of any public relations perspective, but we were never briefed on how important the PR pictures would be.

Our stay time on the moon was brief. But the emotion of being first has been long lasting. Still, as we both walked on the moon, I did have the sense of not being as much a member of a team as a follower. If Neil started to do the wrong thing, I wouldn’t have known, because I wasn’t following a particular order of what we were doing. In some ways, we were thrown out onto the surface and expected to perform a checklist by memory. Set up the flag. Open rock boxes. Put an experiment in place.

Buzz Aldrin’s photo of his own boot print on the moon

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Illustration Credit 4.1
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So it was very extemporaneous. There was a sense of, “Well, we’re here. Let’s go do what we’re supposed to do. But what is next?” The later Apollo moonwalkers had a little more time to get used to the lunar environment.

One of the strongest sensations I recall is the smell of the moon.

Buzz Aldrin inside the
Eagle,
the lunar lander

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Illustration Credit 4.2
)

Neil and I reentered the
Eagle
lunar lander and repressurized our little home away from home. Lunar dust soiled our suits and equipment, and it had a definite odor, like burnt charcoal or the ashes that are in a fireplace, especially if you sprinkle a little water on them.

Before we left Earth, some alarmists considered the lunar dust as very dangerous, in fact pyrophoric—capable of igniting spontaneously in air. The theory was that the lunar dust
had been so void of contact with oxygen, as soon as we repressurized our lunar module cabin it might heat up, smolder, and perhaps burst into flames. At least that was the worry of a few. A late July fireworks display on the moon was not something anyone wanted!

All the official samples collected from the moon’s surface were placed in vacuum-packed containers. Neil did grab a contingency specimen. He stuffed it into his thigh space suit pocket, just in case there was a problem that forced us to scurry off the moon in a hurry.

So, following our moonwalks, first I then Neil climbed back on board the lander. That grab specimen was placed on the cylindrical flat top of the ascent engine cover. As the cabin began to fill with air, we both anxiously waited to see if the lunar sample would begin to smoke and smolder. If it did, we’d stop pressurization, open the hatch, and toss it out. But nothing happened. We got back to the business of readying for departure from the moon.

Yes, Apollo 11 was historic, but it was fraught with risks. When we finally set the
Eagle
lander down, with Neil piloting and me calling out descent numbers for him, we had only an estimated 16 seconds of fuel left in the descent stage. On the surface,
if
we had fallen and torn a suit, there wasn’t much chance of survival.
If
the one ascent engine didn’t ignite or
if
the onboard computer had a glitch, we would never have left the moon.
If
the rendezvous with Mike Collins, circling the moon in the command module, hadn’t gone flawlessly, we then would have faced rather nasty consequences. That’s just a few of a string of “
if
s.”

Buzz Aldrin deploys exploratory technologies on the moon’s surface
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Illustration Credit 4.3
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I note that, in recent years, a document has surfaced that was authored by William Safire, then President Nixon’s speechwriter, about our Apollo moon mission. It was written, I suppose, in the spirit of considering what if the “if factor” did not work in our favor.

In a July 18, 1969, statement to White House official H. R. Haldeman, Safire titled his internal White House essay “In Event of Moon Disaster” and included this ominous phrasing: “Fate has ordained that the men who went to the moon to explore in peace will stay on the moon to rest in peace.”

Calling us brave men, the speech went on to acknowledge that Armstrong and Aldrin know that “there is no hope for their recovery.” “In ancient days, men looked at stars and saw their heroes in the constellations,” the statement continued. “In modern times, we do much the same, but our heroes are epic men of flesh and blood.”

The Safire document added: “In their exploration, they stirred the people of the world to feel as one; in their sacrifice, they bind more tightly the brotherhood of man.”

As odd a statement as that sounds today, it didn’t surprise me to read it. Speechwriters prepare remarks for all sorts of hypothetical events. Senior officials must always be prepared with remarks for breakthroughs as well as tragedies. Apollo 11 had the potential to fit into either one of those categories. Reading the prepared eulogy, I am proud to say that our mission accomplished the same goals—and brought us back home safely.

Apollo was built on the proficiency and professionalism of thousands of dedicated Americans. It was also built on faith and a national commitment.

By the way, while Neil was the first human to step onto the moon, I’m the first alien from another world to enter a spacecraft that was going to Earth.

The moon is a different place since I traveled there in 1969.

First of all, take your own longing look at the moon in the evening sky. It is obvious that Earth’s moon is a celestial body with a story to tell. It has the scars to prove it—a cratered, battered, and beat-up world that is a witness plate to 4.5 billion years of violent processes that showcase the evolution of our solar system.