ANTS ON THE MOON

 

Fantasy vs reality, which was once a definite line, is today becoming blurred.

 It was the summer of 1971 as all across America we watched the flawless launch of Apollo 15 on our TV sets. You couldn’t miss it, because the launch was getting saturation coverage on all of the three television networks of that time.

This was a summer time mission so kids like me were out of school and could devote every second of our time to following the mission. Dave Scott, Jim Irwin and Al Worden really put on a show as they executed the first “J” mission to the lunar surface.

 As a dazzled 14-year-old I watched and wanted to do that myself. Hey, if I could fly ants on my model rockets, why couldn’t I land ants on the Moon? I even built an odd little lunar lander and I called it, of course, “Falcon” in reverence to the Apollo 15 lunar module of the same name. It looked pretty cool landing on my living room carpet.

Of course, that was just kid’s fantasy. Today, however, today the internet is blurring the line between fantasy and reality. One good example being that at this moment we have about the same chance of putting human back on the Moon that I had putting ants on the moon back in 1971.

 Sure, we currently have one type of booster, the SLS, that is proven capable to fly people to the Moon. But we have no lander. And the proposals for a lunar landing vehicle are far closer to fantasy, then they are to operational hardware.

 Sure, I can hear the voices of the fan-club right now chanting “Space X, Space X, Space X!” But it is part of that same crowd which gave us one of the dumbest ideas since lunar Gemini. It is called “Gray Dragon” and is supposed to be a Dragon spacecraft that can land on the Moon. Such may have more mythical qualities than my 1971 Falcon. Yet, the social media allows it to be defecated into the discussion as if it is a real possibility as opposed to Internet fantasy.

The other Space X lunar vehicle is their coveted Starship. You know, the same space vehicle that has blown up a half dozen times in the last year. It is the answer to all things when it comes to spaceflight… unless we’re talking about orbiting, or reentering, or landing. Their lunar design, however, is top heavy with a very narrow footpad span. It doesn’t take much imagination to picture it slowly toppling over and stranding the crew.

 Of course, Space X has proven that they have mastered powered recovery and landing of huge boosters. Either on concrete landing pads at their launch site or on huge drone barges at sea. Yep… on nice hard surfaces that are really flat, and smooth... then they use that same method to land starship on the Moon.

Hummmm... look familiar? This was 1961 folks.

It was during the early Apollo missions in which we learned that there is pretty much nowhere that the lunar surface is flat and smooth. That is especially so in the areas such as the lunar poles where we currently want to venture. 

NASA, however, has one closer direction in which to go. Blue Origin has been developing its Blue Moon Mark I lunar lander. This un-manned device actually has hardware currently being constructed and is large enough to be modified and human-rated. It is slated to be ready to fly in late 2025 or sometime in 2026.The only snag is that the vehicle is designed to be boosted aboard their New Glenn rocket whose schedule is being protracted. 

Yet, although not nearly as bad as the Starship lunar lander, the Blue Moon Mark1 has the same top-heavy design with narrow footpad span. Heck, my 1971 “Falcon” had a better foot pad span and it was designed by a 14-year-old.

Some speculate on the Internet that perhaps Space X and Blue Origin may “cooperate” to have the Starship, with its high Delta V, shuttling people and materials into and out of lunar orbit and Blue Moon going to and from the surface. However, we know that, A: these billionaire mega companies never “cooperate” with anyone- they just engulf and devour, B: Unless a fatter NASA contract is involved Elon doesn’t give a squat about the Moon- he is fixated on Mars. So, once again, the line from reality toward fantasy is blurred. SLS will send Americans to the moon in the near future, but they have no device to allow them to land and explore...and that is reality.

Thus, the un-blurred bottom line is, again, we have the same chance in 2025 of again putting astronauts on the lunar surface as I had for putting ants on the moon back in 1971.

 

Apollo- Soyuz, as I lived it a half century ago EPILOGUE

 

I've always felt that the second best thing to come out of ASTP, next to Deke Slayton finally getting to fly in space, was the Revell 1:96 scale Apollo - Soyuz model kit.

As best I can recall these models began showing up on the stores in late June of 1975. I do not remember when I purchased mine. Normally, I'd pick up plastic models when the Michigan weather got so bad that I couldn't fly my balsa and paper tube model rockets any longer. I may also have gotten my original Apollo-Soyuz kit as late as 1976.

The kit seen here I picked up on e-bay in June 2025 for just $12. You can tell it's a 1975 original because the box has no UPC. The box was open, thus the lower price. The Apollo CM's apex was missing from the kit, but I had an extra Revell 1:96 CM on hand, and that's what you see in the lead picture.

Garnished with some remarkable artwork, the kit's box seemed to tell us exactly how to paint the Soyuz as well as the Docking Module (DM). During the mission, however, our only views of the actual vehicle were by way of fuzzy, washed-out TV sent down by the Apollo crew. The actual clear photos of the the Soyuz would not come to the public until months after the mission.

Of course the kit's instructions tell you to paint Soyuz very much like the mock-up displayed in Russia and not the way it looks on the box cover.

In the kit itself, the Apollo is the same basic Block 1 that was released back in 1967. However, there are a few minor changes. The aft Service Module (SM) bulkhead was updated to a more accurate configuration from the 1967 version. Additionally, the S-Band antenna was made far larger. Finally, there is no way to lock the CSM to the DM. In the original Apollo on the Moon model there was a small hook in the apex tunnel of the CM and a notch in the APS of the LM. That way you could put the two together, twist slightly and they would remain coupled. No such luck with the ASTP model. Personally, I solved the issue by using two small rare-earth magnets glued in place with some E6000. Other folks have used a dowel, which IMO is way more clumsy than the big nose Revell placed on the Soyuz.

True coolness of the kit resides in the Soyuz and the DM. Both are easy to assemble. 

Personally, I departed from the painting instructions in a major way here. They call for the DM to be painted black. And many of the NASA display models of the era show it as being flat black. But a study of the on-orbit photos do not show it as being black (compare it here to the SM's engine bell skirt, which actually is black). So, I went with Testor's 1181 Aluminum for the DM. You can argue about it, but the DM burned up in the Earth's atmosphere a half century ago... so the point is moot.

I used 1171 Flat Bright Green on the Soyuz. I also added some crumpled foil on the aft of the Soyuz IM skirt and behind the skirt I added four little balsa wood squares covered in painted crinkled foil to better represent the on-orbit photos. One of these days I'm gonna foil and paint that IM's mid-band, but I didn't get around to it while writing this. I also departed from the instructions by not painting the solar panels dark blue (just be be rebellious I guess).

The kit's decals, however, were so old they were unusable.

The instructions are written both in English and in Russian... as if someone in the Soviet Union was gonna buy one of these models in the late 1970s. 

My original 1975 Soyuz. All that's left of my kit from a half century ago.

For all I know, it was probably against the law for a Soviet citizen to actually own a Soyuz model in those days. Imagine, getting sentenced to work in the salt mines for building a 1:96 Revell Soyuz.

BACK STORY...

When I was shopping e-bay for this kit I found the one seen here up for auction- so I bid $12. Then I saw another one, still factory wrapped for $35 on a Buy It Now. Figuring I'd never win the auction, I bought that kit outright. Three days later, I got the message that I'd won the bid! Thus I ended up with 2 ASTP kits. What to do? Well, I have a close friend who is a big time collector of  Great Lakes items and also model kits. So, I shipped the factory wrapped kit to him and said "Happy ASTP 50th anniversary."

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Apollo- Soyuz, as I lived it a half century ago Pt8

 

           

SCIENCE GARNISH

Apollo still had another three days on-orbit after the Soyuz had landed. There was actually no pressing reason for the remaining days on-orbit other than the fact that if the two spacecraft went up on the same day and then came back down on the same day it would make Apollo and NASA look as if they had been used for nothing more than a political tool; go up, do a political photo show and come down. That, however, is exactly what Nixon had in mind when he signed the ASTP agreement with the Soviets. In order to help avoid that flavor, NASA had garnished the mission with some post-handshake tasks. If looked at too closely all of it may easily be seen as make-work “science” to run for a few extra days on-orbit.

Of course with the DM still attached, the crew had something like a mini space station. Plus all of this gave Deke a few more precious days in space.

The laundry list of "experiments" included some of the following:

"Extreme UV Survey,"

“Helium Glow,”

"Helium Absorption,"

"Soft X-Ray,"

"Doppler Tracking,"

"Multipurpose Furnace,"

"Electrophoresis German,”

"Microbial Exchange,"

"Geodynatics,”

“Biostack,”

"Crystal Growth,"

"Stratospheric Aerosol Measurement,"

“Electrophoresis Technology,"

"Cellular Immune Response,"

“Polymorphonuclear Leukocyte Response,”

"Crystal Activation,"

…and of course who could forget, "Zone Forming Fungi."

If read too closely that listing may appear as text written for the purpose of prolonging content. Of course that is the mode that we are in at this point when talking about ASTP.

Additionally the crew had a list of 110 Earth observations to perform.

All of this added to the mission could make Skylab appear to be a cakewalk to the general public. Most of this, however, required very little crew interaction other than throwing a switch or opening a package. By reading the onboard voice transcription, however, it becomes clear that the crew spent a lot of the remaining flight just looking out the window. (Of course that could be translated in pilot terms to being a part of those Earth observations.) Had I known at the time that the crew was up there simply looking out the window, I would have been delighted. Deke Slayton had waited a long time for those few days and I hope he savored ever second of it. In his autobiography, “Deke!” he later said that he, “…wished there was a bubble turret on the spacecraft, so I could just sit up there and watch the world go by.” Years later the International Space Station would pretty much do just that.

APOLLO’S FINAL SPLASHDOWN

My schedule for splashdown day had me punching in at the Civic Center at 8:00 in the morning SWLC (Slob Working on the Labor Crew) time. I was scheduled to knock-off at 4:00 p.m., which would have me home in time for the splashdown. Our boss, however, had the day off and his assistant had to leave to go to the dentist for an emergency procedure. It mattered little because there was absolutely nothing to do in the building that day. Thus, we broke out the Frisbees and spent the morning getting paid to zing them around the arena. One thing an arena that often hosted rock concerts has plenty of was discarded Frisbees. By 11:00 the building’s assistant manager came down and decided to just send us part-timers home for the day. That put me home in time to catch the de-orbit burn as well as the splashdown.

For the last time since 1971 and Apollo 14, I set up my recoding rig to capture the TV audio of an Apollo mission. My position in front of our basement TV set was a bit damp, but nice and cool, as I waited for any information on the ASTP’s return to Earth.

Oddly, considering the blanket of news coverage of ASTP, the de-orbit burn and CM/SM separation was not covered either on TV or radio. The SPS engine burned started at 3:28 and lasted for 7.8 seconds. Next, the separation of the CM took place at 4:44 p.m. basement time. For a moment I wondered if the network executives may skunk us space-buffs again in the same way that they did on Skylab 4 and not cover the splash-down.

At 5:00 sharp I was relieved to see Cronkite and Schirra on my TV set awaiting the splashdown. My problem was that for some reason UHF Channel 25, which was CBS, was not coming in well. I had to make the switch to VHF Channel 5 and NBC. There John Chancellor, and Roy Neal were doing the broadcast in the company of Alan Shepard.

As the CM came out of blackout and went into the nominal descent profile everything went exactly as planned. We actually had an image of the CM dropping toward the ocean just a moment before the drogue chutes deployed. 

Then we got to watch the entire parachute sequence. Apollo was putting on a real show for us space-buffs. Splashdown took place at 5:18 basement time and everything looked great. 

Inside the CM, however, as it bobbed Stable 2 on the blue Pacific, the three astronauts were nearly choking to death and no one knew it.

There are only three eyewitness versions of the story of what happened during the reentry in publication, namely statements by Stafford, Slayton and Brand. Studying these, the issue interpolates into the following chain of events.

After reentry the communications system in the CM suffered a short circuit that caused a shrill feed-back type of noise to blast into all three of the astronaut’s headsets. The only way for the crew to talk to one another was to shout. Distracted, in part, by that problem, Brand neglected to throw the switch that would activate the automatic chute deploy. Expecting to see the apex jettison and the drogues to deploy between 24,000 feet and 18,000 feet, the crew quickly realized that nothing was happening and Brand immediately hit the manual deploy and the sequence began. In Stafford’s version of the story either Brand or Slayton were too distracted or could not hear Stafford give the call to kill the RCS, or Stafford simply missed the call himself. No matter who did not do what, the RCS system was left on, and as the CM was swinging wildly under the drogues the RCS jets were firing to try and stabilize the capsule. At the same time, the vent to allow fresh outside air into the cabin opened as it should. That open vent and those firing jets were never meant to mix. As a result nitrogen tetroxide from the jets was sucked into the cabin by way of the vent.

Ingestion of just 400 parts per million of nitrogen tetroxide can be fatal to an adult human, and in short order the gas was hanging like a yellow-orange fog in the cabin of the CM. All three astronauts were strapped tightly into their couches and could do nothing other than sit there as their skin burned, their eyes watered and their lungs began to clog.

Splashing down the CM flipped over onto its nose in the Stable 2 position with the astronauts now suspended face-down. Stafford knew that they were in danger and unstrapped, dropping nearly 10 feet into the Lower Equipment Bay. Grabbing and clawing toward anything that would allow him to climb, he stepped on switches and handles to get up to the emergency oxygen masks located behind his seat. Ripping off the cover he placed a mask onto himself, gave one to Slayton and turned to Brand. He found that his CMP was unconscious having been overcome by the gas. He put a mask onto Brand’s face and then hit the “High Flow.” Brand began to come around, but began thrashing his arms, knocking his mask off and clobbering Stafford in the process, and then Brand again lost consciousness. Stafford repeated the process and this time held Brand in a “bear hug” until he fully regained consciousness. Shortly thereafter Stafford activated the inflatable up-righting bags. In a few minutes the CM rolled back over into a Stable 1 position.

Although the crew needed desperately to open the hatch and air out the cabin before their oxygen ran out, when the first rescue swimmer knocked on the hatch window, Slayton instinctively gave him the “thumbs up” signal indicating by mistake that all was well. Stafford moved to open the hatch and Slayton stopped him.

“Goddamn, don’t open the hatch! We might sink like Gus!” Slayton urged through his mask.

Apparently, the trauma of Grissom’s lost Liberty Bell 7 was so engrained in Slayton that he feared another such embarrassment more than choking to death in a poison atmosphere. Stafford just reminded him that unlike Liberty Bell 7, whose hatch blew off, Apollo’s hatch was connected and could be easily closed again if water began coming in over the sill. He opened the hatch and allowed the fresh air to wash away the nitrogen tetroxide.

Following their being landed on the carrier USS NEW ORLEANS, the crew were taken to the sick bay and hospitalized aboard ship as it set sail for Hawaii. All three recovered from their chemical phenomena and in a few weeks were back to normal. The doctors estimated that of that fatal 400 parts per million of nitrogen tetroxide, the crew had taken in about 300 parts per million.

A SYMBOL OF GROWING UP WITH SPACEFLIGHT IN THE 1970s

As I put away my tape recording rig and stowed the three cassettes in my S.R.E.C. box, it struck me that this was the end. There were no more manned spaceflights, at least not until that pie-in-the-sky Space Shuttle started flying. Yet, there were plenty of Congressmen, news orators and even planetary scientists who were loudly calling for the cancellation of that Shuttle thing before it even got off of the drawing board.

The enemies of manned spaceflight had already gotten their way with Apollo, which had demonstrated solid results in a very successful way, and now they were setting their sights on the future and the Shuttle. The Shuttle, it appeared, would be an easy target by comparison to Apollo and the general public in America did not care at all.  On July 24, 1975, it truly appeared as if there was no future for manned spaceflight in the United States. The only hope was the fact Nixon the NASA hater was now out of office and President Ford appeared to be indifferent toward the subject of human spaceflight. Perhaps NASA could quietly develop the Shuttle outside of the media spotlight and make it a reality. I had my doubts.

Repeatedly we were told that the Space Shuttle would be making its first flights in 1979, just four years after ASTP. But, I was 17 years old and the distance between ASTP and the Shuttle was just over a quarter of my lifespan so far. That seemed to be a very long time away. If anyone had told me then that it would be more like six years before the Shuttle was flying I would probably have slipped into a state of clinical depression. In the summer of 1976, I tried to get into the Shuttle groove by buying and building an Estes 1284 flying Space Shuttle model rocket. When launched, it spread itself across the bean field behind our house. The future was indeed dim.

Nixon’s era of “détente” with the Soviets did not last. In August of 1975, the Ford administration met with the Soviets to further the easing of tensions between the two super powers. Agreements were made concerning the sharing of technology, trade, peaceful settlement of conflicts and human rights. Shortly thereafter it became clear that the Soviets considered their agreement on human rights to only apply outside of their borders. As the U.S. pressed the issue with the USSR, détente began to unravel. Finally, in 1979, the Soviets invaded Afghanistan and any feelings of détente simply vanished as the Cold War began to get much colder. It would not be until after the fall of the Soviet Union in 1989 that the United States would once again look toward flying in space with the Russians.

On January 28, 1978, I went on the bus tour at the Kennedy Space Center. Out on Pad B at launch Complex 39, the launch tower and milk stool upon which ASTP had launched back in 1975 still stood. Grass was sprouting through the cracked concrete and the tower itself was faded and weathered. Closer to the VAB the other two towers were being taken apart – the top two-thirds to be used for the Shuttle program and the bottom one-third scrapped. Yet, the ASTP Saturn IB launcher still stood at the pad. I asked the bus driver why it was still there and he said that ASTP had not budgeted to move it back to the VAB. They had the budget for the launch and that was all. He speculated that they would have to make room in the Shuttle budget to “clear” that pad. I was never sure if that story was factual, but at the time, it made sense.

When I stood on the riverbank at Titusville in April of 1981 and watched STS-1, the first Space Shuttle launch, in the foreground was that Apollo Saturn V launcher that had been converted for the Saturn IB with the milk stool. It had been used for Apollo, Skylab and ASTP. Now it was parked behind the VAB, waiting to be scrapped – and years later it was. Somehow, its demise was symbolic of growing up with spaceflight in the 1970s. 

INSPIRATION

During that week and a half of the ASTP mission there was a news conference between the crew and President Ford. I missed it, but my brother captured it on my cassette tape. Later as I sat and listened to the tapes Deke Slayton was asked by the President what message he would pass along to America's school kids. His answer is 100% Deke...

"Decide what you wanna do, and never give up until you've done it."

I would be a high school senior in just a few weeks and that simple message from a man who had gone along a hard and frustrating dozen years to finally do what he wanted to do, resonated for me. I had already decided that I was going to attend the Embry-Riddle Aeronautical University and become a professional pilot. I couldn't afford it, it was known as the toughest aviation school in the world, and no one thought I could do it. Even my high school guidance counselor said flat-out that I couldn't do it. It took me a decade to work my way through that university, but on August 15, 1987 I proved them all wrong. Along the way I always remembered Deke's words, and I never gave up.

This sign was prepared for me by my mom and my wife-to-be.

 

 

Apollo- Soyuz, as I lived it a half century ago Pt7

 

  SOYUZ RETURNS

After departing the company of Apollo, the Soyuz crew had a full day remaining in space. They were assigned some minor scientific tasks, but Leonov had an experiment of his own to conduct. Being a very accomplished artist he found that photos simply did not capture the stunning colors and beauty of the Earth below that his eyes had witnessed.

He had been allowed to bring, aboard Soyuz, what he described as "my crayons" some drawing paper and "a special device which allowed me to measure and record, very precisely, the colors of different parts of the surface of the Earth."

Leonov recalled in the book "Two Sides of the Moon" that he was able to capture the true deep blue color of the Black Sea. He wanted to do the same with the Earth's mountain ranges, but ran out of time. He had stated to Soviet space officials that his reason for taking the art supplies aboard the spacecraft was to enable Soviet cartographers to depict maps more accurately. In my opinion it was a great excuse for the artist cosmonaut to get his tools aboard the spacecraft and the stuffed shirts in the Soviet space bureaucracy bought it completely.

July 21 was reentry day for the Soyuz. In yet another of the mission’s over hyperbolized “firsts,” the public around the world, including the Soviets, got their first chance to see a Soviet spacecraft landing and recovery. Where I had spent the last seven years seeing Apollo’s descend on three parachutes (with the exception of Apollo 15 of course), the Soyuz was suspended beneath a single chute. I was getting ready for another historic day on the Civic Center’s labor crew and got to watch the landing before I left for work as retro rockets gave a brief burst to cushion the spacecraft’s contact with the ground. Frankly I was not really impressed by it as it seemed like an odd way to return from space. 

Of course to the Soviet people Apollos splashdown probably seemed overly complicated and odd too. Like everyone else who followed the American space program, I had no idea that one day our own NASA astronauts would be landing aboard Soyuz in the exact same manner. In fact such a thing was beyond anyone’s imagination. Frankly, we were sure that the only way that the Soviet Union would dissolve would be in the mutually assured destruction of an atomic war and as long as their closed society existed, there would never be a time when Americans would fly aboard a Soyuz. We could never have guessed that just 14 years later, the Soviet empire would simply crumble, the iron curtain would lift and open the way for our two peoples to live together aboard the same space station. Such was the stuff of Star Trek and science fiction- or so we thought in 1975.

Apollo- Soyuz, as I lived it a half century ago Pt6

 

DEKE FLIES APOLLO

Today it was Leonov and Kubasov’s turn to begin their return to Earth in the Soyuz, and my brother Craig was doing a great job recording their departure while I sat on the dock with my new amazing girlfriend. Undocking took place at 8:33 in the morning Windover Lake time on July 19th and Deke Slayton was finally able to pilot a spacecraft on orbit. 

It was April 2nd, 1959, when Donald K. "Deke" Slayton got the the phone call informing him that he had been selected to be one of the group of seven original U.S. astronauts. 

He had flown 1,431 hours and 63 combat missions in World war II and later countless hours as a test pilot for the Air Force before turning his skills toward a new organization called NASA. According to his book "Deke" he had known all along through the astronaut selection process that he would make the cut. When the announcement was made as to which three of the seven astronauts would fly first, his name was not on the list. He wasn't disappointed because a minor health ailment, other than his heart skipping a beat occasionally, had cropped up. Then later when he was grounded after being scheduled to fly right after John Glenn's mission, Deke's position as head of the astronaut office saw him flying with assorted other astronauts for more than a decade. Yet, he was never allowed to fly a spacecraft. By the way, it was Deke who had pushed to have the term "capsule" changed to "spacecraft" early in the Mercury program. 

Now, on the 19th day of July 1975 he finally got to hand-fly an actual spacecraft, (note: in "Deke" he states that it was Saturday the 21st of July- that Saturday in 1975 was actually the 19th.) Deke had practiced the maneuvers many times in the simulator thus now he backed Apollo off and then eased in to re-dock. Similar to Stafford's problem, the sun's glare was in Deke's eyes making it difficult to get the alignment. Additionally, a slight incorrect nudge in the hand controller and his correction caused a slight bump when contact was made and Soyuz shook a small bit as hard dock was achieved.

Dressed in their full pressure suits, in case something may go wrong and Apollo may crash into their Orbital Module, the two cosmonauts were seated in the Soyuz Reentry Module. Soyuz was a completely passive vehicle. The reason being that Soyuz 19 had a limited command and control capability, limited propellant reserves and very limited sighting alignment along the docking axis. So, her crew were just along for the ride. Apollo, on the other hand, had no such limitations having been designed to not only rendezvous and dock in Earth orbit, but also while on the way to the Moon and while in lunar orbit. It also had the capability to transition down from a high lunar orbit and go the rescue of a disabled lunar module.

Once the second docking had been done the two spacecraft were in range of Soviet ground stations and the crew could make a live broadcast down to the Soviet people. Thus, Leonov and Kubasov made their way back into the OM and did a show demonstrating how they made a meal in space. As soon as they were finished, they closed their hatch and fastened back into their couched in their DM awaiting the final undocking.

At 11:26am Windover lake time, with Deke's hands on the controls the two vehicles smoothly undocked and maneuvered so that the Apollo would blot out the sun and form a man-made eclipse that the Soviet crew photographed. Considering that the U.S. Skylab had just compiled enough imagery of the sun to keep the solar physics community busy for about two decades, this must have been our effort to allow the Soviets to catch up a bit. Otherwise it would have been nothing more than a pointless egghead exercise. Additionally, Deke did a scheduled fly-around Soyuz. Then he burned the Apollo's RCS thrusters to place the spacecraft in a position 1km above and behind Soyuz. Once out of range of ground stations, Stafford called Soyuz and asked how they were doing? Leonov answered that they were resting. Just then the Apollo crew played a cassette tape of girls giggling in the shower that Brand had brought along and told Soyuz that the Apollo crew were working hard. All jokes aside, Deke had done an amazing job of space piloting.

In Mission Control, the flight surgeon's readout showed a steady, flawless heartbeat from Deke Slayton's monitors.