Go, Flight! by Rick Houston & Milt Heflin

Author:Rick Houston & Milt Heflin [Houston, Rick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: HIS036060 History / United States / 20th Century
ISBN: 9780803284944
Publisher: UNP - Nebraska
Published: 2015-09-28T04:00:00+00:00

14. As Eagle drew ever closer to the lunar surface, capcom Charlie Duke asked flight director Gene Kranz for silence over the comm loops. Kranz quickly complied. Courtesy NASA.

Kranz answered the future moonwalker’s request by telling his controllers that from that point on, the only callouts would be for fuel. Carlton knew that those levels were already low, and getting lower. It had always been his nightmare to have an LM run out of fuel while landing and not know it until too late, and this time at least, he could see it coming. A low-level sensor in the tank was uncovered in the tank as it neared empty, with maybe a couple minutes’ worth remaining. Sims had taught him what kind of fuel levels to expect at various altitudes in the landing cycle, and Carlton’s heart dropped.

Fuel had never been this low this high up, and even when the craft came back over the crater’s lip and the altitude lessened suddenly, the remainder was still lower than he expected. Generally, Armstrong and Aldrin had already landed in simulations well before Carlton ever saw the low-level light flash on his console. Not this time. “Knowing that we were going to land long, I was prepared for us to go low of fuel, but I had no idea we’d run as low as we did,” Carlton said. “We saw low level, and I glanced at the altitude and I thought, ‘Ohhhh, crap.’ I didn’t know if we were going to make it or not.”

Kranz and Carlton both knew what was about to happen. Kranz called, using his colleague’s name instead of console position.

Okay, Bob, I’ll be standing by for your callouts shortly.

Carlton noted the low-level light, and then a few seconds later, told Kranz to stand by for word that only sixty seconds’ worth of fuel was left. Another call came, and nobody wanted to hear it.

Sixty.

Kranz repeated.

Sixty seconds.

Duke passed word up to the crew, just as the engine started to kick up dust. This was going to be far too close for comfort, but from the sounds of their voices, it might as well have been just another simulation.

Stand by for thirty.

Thirty.

Again, Kranz and Duke echoed the call. In the Trench, retro officer Chuck Deiterich was as cool as a cucumber. He was not sweating the landing. “I never really got too excited about it,” Deiterich said. “I felt they had enough time to get down, so I wasn’t concerned about an abort. Thirty seconds is a long time. Maybe I was being naïve, I don’t know. But when you work in the control center, you worry about your job, you worry about the other people you might affect, and you worry about how they might affect you. Something like how much propellant they’ve got is Bob Carlton’s call, so you trust him to do the right thing. It’s a team effort.”

Moments later, probes extending from three of the LM’s four legs made contact with the surface. Aldrin called it.

Contact light.

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