The Age of Aquarius, 1970

[MID]

No problem MID, thanks.

And thank you Hugh...

From those of us who don't know the difference between 6 and 5!

[MID]

Thanks MID, Now we know the details of what was going on,

Regards;

TFF

Welcome TFF.

I thought it might be a good idea to set the stage before going into the mission...

[thefinalfrontier]

Welcome TFF.

I thought it might be a good idea to set the stage before going into the mission...

Yes indeed and you done it perfectly,

[MID]

Yes indeed and you done it perfectly,

Thanks, Pal.

Appreciate that very much!

[DONTEATUS]

Most people have no clue to what goes on in the Exploration of space and NASA`s wonderful record of Success`s The fact that they got all three guys back safe to this day is mindboggleing!

[MID]

Most people have no clue to what goes on in the Exploration of space and NASA`s wonderful record of Success`s The fact that they got all three guys back safe to this day is mindboggleing!

Well, D...

It sure looked mind-boggling for a while back then.

But it bacame a matter of drive, self-confidence, no quitting, lots of coffee, cigarrettes, and certainly repressed but present fear that drove a solution to a very big problem.

[MID]

February, 1970

Training, training, and more training was the order of the day.

February 1970 saw lots, just like every other crew and backup crew saw.

Training summaries as of the end of January 1970 showed the following hours logged in all various training courses for the Apollo 13 crews:

Planned hours of training to have been completed: 876.

(That's basically 110 - 8 hour days of training).

Jim Lovell 685

Ken Mattingly 782

Fred Haise 793

John Young 666

Jack Swigert 812

Charlie Duke 695

Kind of odd that the backup CMP would have completed more training than anyone else on an Apollo 13 flight crew, but perhaps that was serendipitous, as in a short time...right before the mission, he would be called on to assume prime CMP duties.

A typical day of training would consist of what occurred on Friday, January 23, 1970:

Lovell and Haise in LM simulator.

Mattingly in CM simulator covering Terminal phase Initiation through lunar orbit docking, and undocking and separation from the LM ascent stage in lunar orbit prior to TEI.

Young and Duke at Langley, training in a landing simulator, followed by Charley Duke solo in a LM simulator, practicing various LMP duties and procedures.

Jack Swigert in the CM simulator all day.

These folks traveled all over the country, weekly, and trained in every phase of the mission in various places all day, every day.

February saw lots of recovery training and EVA training.

Here's the backup crew, John Young and Charlie Duke doing EVA training at KSC:

And the prime crew of Jim Lovell and Fred Haise in similar activities in Houston:

Days later, the prime crew would be training in recovery procedures in the Gulf of Mexico:

And a matter of a day later, Jim Lovell was flying this thing back in Houston...the LLTV:

Few people realized just how much intense training was required to fly one of these missions, and that two full crews were completely trained to execute the primary mission...

In the meantime, the Saturn V was being readied for flight, the spacecraft systems were being thoroughly checked, and the flight control teams were preparing as well, running through every procedure and phase of flight. Soon, the integrated simulations between the control teams and the flight crews would begin.

15-16 hour days would be the norm as April approached, and the teams and crews would be honed to handle any foreseeable contingency, and some that were not foreseeable.

No one could have foreseen the actual contingency that would occur on the Apollo 13 flight...but that intensity of training would prove to be adequate to handle even that.

One wonders how these people, with families and children at home (save Jack Swigert, who was the only single man in the Astronaut corps at the time...which might explain his advanced hours of training) endured such a pace. But they did...

The Moon, and Fra Mauro awaited.

On this day, 20 February, 1970, the Moon was full in the skies of Earth. 8 years earlier, John Glenn had become the first American to orbit the Earth. Now, the third lunar landing mission was preparing to fly.

The Moon would pass through one more cycle of full before the waxing crescent of April awaited the crew of Apollo 13...

[DONTEATUS]

I would of Loved flying that Bug ! Ive read that it actually would take your breath away !

[MID]

I would of Loved flying that Bug ! Ive read that it actually would take your breath away !

Yes...especially if the attitude thrusters crap out and you have to eject.

Takes your breath away and other things!!!!

[MID]

8 April 1970

Ken, We've Got a Problem

For the past six months, training had been intense, hundreds of hours of simulations had taken place covering every facet of the mission, and the Mission Control Center's flight control teams for Apollo 13 had been doing the same, and everyone was primed to fly to the Moon.

The Saturn V was in good shape, the flight crew was quarantined at the Kennedy Space Center, the Moon was a thin sliver in the sky, and we were ready for Apollo 13.

But today, something that had never been done would be done...

On 6 April, the prime flight crew had gone through their customary "F-5" ("Flight minus 5 days") pre-flight physical exams. All was well with everyone, but a matter came to the attention of flight surgeons which changed everything.

Just a short time before the exams, the prime crew of Apollo 13 had been exposed to German Measles (Rubella). It was either through Charlie Duke (back-up LMP) or his children, and the son of Jim Lovell also had a case of the Red measles (Rubeola).

One might think, "So what?"

The "so what?" was that Jim Lovell and Fred Haise had already had Rubella, and thus had a natural immunity developed against another occurrence. Ken Mattingly never had the disease as a youth, and didn't have that immunity.

...and flight surgeons had been taking blood from Mattingly every day since 6 April, checking on this situation. It was a bit uneasy and they weren't saying much about anything.

Rubella has an incubation period of a couple weeks. Then, it will erupt into the rash which most of us know about, and a variety of flu like symptoms, including fever, which can be rather severe the older one is.

The problem is, one never knows if one actually has the virus incubating inside, nor whether one would actually contract the problems. However, given the schedule and the timing of the exposure, Ken Mattingly could erupt into symptomatic Rubella at a most inopportune time...while in the middle of a lunar landing mission.

There wasn't really a choice in the minds of the doctors. While Lovell and Haise weren't going to get Rubella, Mattingly might, and right in the middle of the flight (and he was the CMP...a solo pilot with a critically important job to do), and so, on 8 April, Mattingly was grounded from a mission he had trained intensely for. He was of course replaced at that time by his backup, equally well trained Jack Swigert.

I suppose one can imagine the profound disappointment on the part of Mattingly, as well as the suppressed elation that must've been Swigert's. Mixed emotions on the part of Lovell, Haise, Young, and Duke, most certainly. But all of it was held in check, because these men were professionals and knew what had to be done.

Thus, this picture, taken on 6 April 1970 at KSC...

...was swiftly replaced by a new crew portrait.

Like the professionals they were, the next day the prime crew met for a mission review, and Ken Mattingly, grounded, worked with his replacement.

So, 72 hours before launch, we had a replaced crewman. The first, and only time it ever happened from the first Mercury flight to the final Apollo mission.

I don't know that the general public even knew about this situation as the launch approached, but I think that the change, although painful at the time, represented Ken Mattingly dodging a bullet.

#

Ken Mattingly would serve as a CAPCOM on Apollo 13, and would join the John Young crew, thus becoming prime CMP for the Apollo 16 mission, which would fly two years later.

I have the strangest feeling that his great misfortune in being grounded might have been replaced by gratefulness (also suppressed) in about a week.

Ken would fly to the Moon, on a very complex and detailed J mission. He would also join the ranks of only three men who have ever performed an EVA in cis-lunar space (joining what I call the "real spaceman club"), and would (and still does) hold the record for EVA time in space outside of Earth orbit. Here's Ken, two years later, somewhere close to 200,000 miles out there in space....(he's got the red stripe on his helmet)...

He joined Al Worden of Apollo 15 (5 August 1971), and Ron Evans of Apollo 17 (17 December 1972) with a 1 hour 24 minute EVA on 25 April 1972...

Ken would also continue with NASA as an active astronaut through two Commands of Space Shuttle missions: STS-4 in 1982, and STS-51-C in 1985, and would log 504 totals of spaceflight before retiring from NASA in 1985.

...and Ken would serve an essential role in Apollo 13. He'd man the CM simulator and be instrumental in working out processes that had never been done before in manned spaceflight. He didn't know this as of 8 April, but within a week, he would.

I think his disappointment was well compensated for!

[thefinalfrontier]

Well Kens misfortune of measles sure turned into a lifetime career for him so that little setback was in all reality a good thing for him,

Good post MID and thanks for the info.

[MID]

Well Kens misfortune of measles sure turned into a lifetime career for him so that little setback was in all reality a good thing for him,

Good post MID and thanks for the info.

Welcome Pal!

Yea...I think it might have been nice not to have been on Apollo 13...

[MID]

11 April 1970

Time To Fly!

Yesterday, the gigantic MSS rolled back from the now fully readied Apollo 13 launch vehicle...

And that evening, during the peaceful sunset, Apollo 13 looked like the dream it was...

...serene in the late day sun, but promising to be a dragon the next day!

Launch day always brings a certain level of intensity, and concentration. One is excited, maybe even a bit nervous, and most certainly spring loaded to be exceptional, from the cook at crew quarters to the Pad Leader, the flight control teams, to the crew...of course, although they're generally the light-hearted ones of the bunch, as was Apollo 13's crew this launch day.

You just really have to wonder how Jack Swigert felt then...

Three days ago, he'd basically completed his training as a backup CMP, his first flight crew assignment. He would be watching the launch from the cape, and his job would be over until his next crew assignment...which probably would've been CMP on Apollo 16.

Today, he's passing jokes along, eating the famed steak and eggs breakfast, and getting ready very suddenly to fly to the Moon for real. It must've been surreal, although by virtue of his training, he was certainly prepared for it, and also aware that such a thing was a possibility, however slim.

Perhaps he had a thought:

Thank God for the measles!

[MID]

As was the norm, after breakfast, it was off to the suit room, where they'd all been many times before. This time, it was the last time, and the real thing...

And off to the launch pad:

Into the elevator...

And up in the white room, on the 320 foot level, a smiling Gunter Wendt (the beloved Pad leader for all of the Apollo missions) awaits the crew at the hatch.

[MID]

Shortly after 12:00 eastern, the hatch on the CM was sealed and the process of preparing for a launch to the Moon started in earnest.

the countdown went smoothly that afternoon, and at 14:13:00 EST, Apollo 13 lifted off from Pad 39A at the Kennedy Space Center.

...and then there was trouble.

[MID]

T + 5 minutes

Most readers are probably familiar with the movie about this mission, Apollo 13. Personally, I am not a huge fan of melodrama inserted into actual historical fact for the purpose of Hollywood success, and I've never been a fan of Hollywood portrayals of real events, especially when the principals involved in those events are still alive, and the actual events are recorded and preserved for posterity. There's just too much silliness put forth for the sake of artistic license. I thought Apollo 13 in reality was more compelling than any movie could ever be.

This digression has a point.

In the portrayal of Apollo 13, there are some fallacies present, and since many people's only experience of Apollo 13 consists of that movie, it is somewhat beneficial to point out the discrepancies, so as to relate the real story.

First of all, Apollo 13's launch was very smooth, and nominal. The tower was cleared and the first stage burn was nominal. Staging took place at the nominal time, we got skirt and tower sep on time as Apollo 13 streaked toward orbit.

S-II performance was also nominal. The Saturn V second stage did most of the work to push Apollo into orbit, and generally burned from approximately 2 minutes 40 seconds until about 9 minutes, 15 seconds, when the S-IVB would take over and insert the spacecraft into an earth parking orbit, with nominal shutdown occurring somewhere around 11 minutes 45 seconds.

As we came up on the 5 minute mark in the flight, the following was heard:

CAPCOM: 13 Houston, coming up 5 minutes. You're looking perfect.

LOVELL: 13, Roger.

All was running smoothly, and Apollo 13 was pitched over, gaining velocity and downrange distance now. The view out the forward windows showed the horizon of the Earth overhead, as the vehicle was rolled to heads-down.

At approximately 5:32, there was a sudden buildup in vibration felt aboard the spacecraft...

In the movie, Gene Kranz is shown on console in the MOCR during the launch of Apollo 13. In reality Gene Kranz was the lead Flight Director for the 13 mission, but he was not on console during launch. Milt Windler and the Maroon team were on console for Apollo 13's launch.

Alot of talk went on between Tom Hanks (Jim Lovell) and Mission Control that never happened, including this:

"Houston this is 13, we've got a center engine cutoff, GO on the other 4!"

"Roger 13, we show the same,"

KRANZ: Booster, can you confirm that center engine cutoff?

BOOSTER: "Roger that Flight, looks like we lost it."

KRANZ: Fido, what's that going to do to us?

FIDO: Stand by Flight.

ANOTHER CONTROLLER (tense...): I need to know if the IU's correcting for the number 5 shutdown.

And Tom Hanks nervously eyes the instrument panel...all eyes on board staring at the number 5 engine light...."Houston, what's the story on engine 5?" (this was actually said by Lovell...)

..and he nervously eyes the ABORT handle over and over...the drama building as the music swells.

Back in the MOCR:

BOOSTER: "Looks good, we're still GO. We'll be alright as long as we don't lose another one.

The look on BOOSTER's face is wide eyed, excited, and somewhat unsure...

KRANZ: Roger that.

CAPCOM: Uh, 13, we're not sure why the inboard was out early, but the other engines are GO, so we're just gonna burn those remaining engines for a little bit longer.

LOVELL: Roger that. Our gimbals are good, our trim is good...

Well... , I can tell you that despite the fact that the gist of the situation was in fact portrayed, most of what you heard, and the impression of immediate crisis and all that eyeing the abort switch never happened.

In fact, people who may have been watching the launch of Apollo 13 that day had no idea that there was a problem, and what really occurred was a snappy, really quick analysis of something that everyone, including the flight crew, had been trained for time and time again, and the resolution was automatic, rapid, and a testimony to the training these teams had.

We did lose the S-II center engine at 5:37 into the flight.

Normally, the inboard engine does cut down ahead of the outboards on a Saturn V flight, but this one was about 2 minutes early.

It's an anomaly, sure, but it is not an abort-criteria situation. Such a shutdown is automatically executed by the IU (the Instrument Unit, which is essentially the brain of the Saturn V, a huge ring of computer equipment (22 feet in diameter) housed at the apex of the S-IVB just beneath the LM.

I can guarantee you that while it was a start, as it was an off-nominal event, Jim Lovell wasn't looking all over his cabin, nervously eyeing the abort handle. Aborting was the farthest thing from his mind. he, and his crew, were monitoring systems, making sure everything looked OK, and pressing on with the business of flying. His actual call, at 5:37 was this.

"Inboard."

And the real conversation in the MOCR followed thus...

Immediately--

BOOSTER: Confirm inboard Flight.

FLIGHT: Rog.

CAPCOM: Rog, we confirm, inboard out.

About two seconds later:

FIDO: Stand by for S-IVB to COI capability.

CAPCOM: Stand by for S-IVB to COI capability.

BOOSTER: Flight that inboard was way early.

LOVELL: Roger, S-IVB to COI.

CAPCOM: Mark, S-IVB to COI.

LOVELL: Rog, S-IVB to COI.

BOOSTER: OK, we're go at 6.

CAPCOM: You're GO at 6, 13.

FLIGHT: You don't have a problem with that, do you?

BOOSTER: Negative, not right now Flight, all the other engines are GO.

LOVEL: Houston, what's the story on engine 5?

CAPCOM: 13, Houston, we don't have a story on why the inboard out was early, but all the other engines are GO, and you're GO.

LOVELL: Roger

That was it.

What was actually done is that immediately, the status of the remaining 4 engines was verified, and the process in the trench began to determine adjustments to the S-II burn.

The nominal S-IVB to COI capability (Mode 3) call was made (basically, that meant that if the S-II failed at this point, Apollo 13 could reach an earth orbit with the S-IVB followed by the SM SPS engine...although they wouldn't have a lunar mission anymore). and no one got antsy about the situation. This was a well trained for contingency, and the resolution to the problem happened in about 1 minute. The casual observer never even noticed that anything had happened, and aboard the spacecraft, nominal ascent operations continued.

Of course, there was very likely a little breath holding...for a second or so, but everyone rapidly knew that the Saturn V was operating very well, and there was no immediate danger to the mission profile or the flight crew.

As to the abort switch...if there was a critical problem in an engine, which posed a catastrophic hazard, the IU would've detected that immediately and an abort would've been automatically triggered by the EDS (Emergency Detection System), and they'd be slamming away from the vehicle at 10 Gs before they could blink an eye.

What then followed was a quick series of calculations and some chatter in the MOCR--

FIDO: Flight , FIDO S-II shutdown is niner plus 48.

FLIGHT: Rog, S-II shutdown is niner plus 48 and level sense arm is what?

FIDO: Nominal 8 plus 38.

FLIGHT: OK, CAPCOM call for that please.

CAPCOM: 13, Houston level sense arm time 8 plus 38, nominal S-II cutoff time niner plus 48, over.

The "level sense arm" call describes the time when the fuel low sensors on the S-II would be uncovered, and that triggered the nominal staging sequence for the S-II/S-IVB .

Essentially, Apollo 13 would have all of its future calls coming a little later than planned, the S-II would burn approximately 40 seconds longer than it would've had the center engine not been shut down, and Apollo 13 did indeed proceed normally from point.

FLIGHT: Ok how's it look BOOSTER?

BOOSTER: We're go Flight...

FLIGHT: OK, shouldn't be a problem, first opportunity on TLI should it?

BOOSTER: I'll have to check it flight.

FLIGHT: OK.

About three minutes later, the TLI plan had been evaluated and it looked good, a nominal staging took place at 9:34, and the S-IVB cut off at 12:30 (14:25:30 EDT), placing Apollo 13 into a 102.6 x 100.1 nautical miles and a velocity of 17,431 statute miles per hour.

We got to orbit about 45 seconds late that day in April 1970...

But Jim Lovell, the most experienced U.S. Astronaut, was on his 4th mission, became the first man to fly a Saturn V twice, and would be the first man to the Moon twice. He looked forward to two surface EVAs, and a traverse as much as a mile away from the LM on the lunar surface.

Before the flight, Jim announced that Apollo 13 would be his last one. But right now, the most experienced astronaut was enjoying the view from a place he no doubt felt very at home in:

Baja California, viewed from Oddysey, 11 April 1970...

At about 16:48 on 11 April 1970, Apollo 13 executed a nominal TLI on the first opportunity, transposition and docking would be completed by 17:30, and the space craft would execute its separation maneuver, and establish PTC by around 21:38...

We were on our way to the Moon.

The S-IVB, with Aquarius stowed, during transposition and docking.

And the S-IVB, fading into the distance after TPD.

And our beautiful world...shrinking...

"This is the dawning of the age of Aquarius..."

The song played on...the energy was high...and despite waning public interest, the excitement at NASA was at a fever pitch.

...And for the first time, a lunar mission had left the Earth on a non-free-return trajectory, This meant that the flight path they were on differed from the prior missions in that if they had a problem, and couldn't enter lunar orbit, the swing-by behind the Moon would not automatically place them on a path that would return them to the Earth. Some engine burning would be required to get them home...

[MID]

A Pleasant Evening in Oddysey

In April 1970, Apollos 18 and 19 were still on the table, but Apollo 20 had been officially scrapped. By the end of the year, Apollo 17 would be the last planned mission to the Moon, and virtually everything we intended or dreamed about for the continuation of manned space exploration as an extension of Apollo would be mothballed.

But in April 1970, we were flying to the Moon once again, attempting to begin in-earnest lunar exploration in the Fra Mauro highlands of our celestial neighbor.

It hadn't been but 5 months since Apollo 12, and not quite 9 months since the heady, sweltering summer of 1969, when magic happened on the Sea of Tranquility, and the whole world was enthralled by what we had accomplished. Yet, few people were paying attention to Apollo 13. Indeed, the networks weren't even carrying the feeds provided by the PAOs at Mission Control.

On Monday evening, 13 April 1970, the crew of Apollo 13 was making their 4th television broadcast from the spacecraft.

Here's the scene in the MOCR during that broadcast--

The American TV audience wasn't watching, because the networks didn't elect to pick up the feeds. People were watching the normal prime time stuff that was on TV in 1970...Marcus Welby, MD., My Three Sons, The Beverly Hillbillies, Bewitched, Green Acres, Hogan's Heroes, maybe the Dean Martin Show, or perhaps Mannix, Hawaii Five-0, That Girl, or the Brady Bunch...but no Apollo 13 coverage.

That evening's broadcast from deep in cis-lunar space featured a tour...about 30 minutes worth, all through the innards of Oddysey and into Aquarius...and at the end, Gene Kranz and the White Team were on station, getting toward the end of their shift for the day, and CAPCOM made this call to 13:

OK Jim...it's been a real good TV show, and we think we ought to conclude it from here now. What do you think?

LOVELL: Roger, sounds good, and this is the crew of Apollo 13 wishing everybody there a nice evening, and we're just about ready to close out our inspection of Aquarius and get back to a pleasant evening in Odyssey.

The screen went blank as the TV was disabled. The day was drawing to a close, crew sleep was coming up, and as was the norm, there was a bunch of things--housekeeping and set ups--which had to be executed prior to the sleep period. The White team was going through procedures to do so, making sure everything was configured for sleep. This is the kind of stuff that people never heard or saw or heard--the somewhat typical exchanges that occurred in mission control as housekeeping took place.

It was around 22:05 EST when it looked like the spacecraft items were completing. The following exchange too place:

KRANZ: OK, GNC you got any configuration items here?

GNC: Uh, negative Flight.

KRANZ: Capcom, it looks like the last item we need here is a stir of the H2 and O2 at their convenience.

CAPCOM: OK.

EECOM: Hmmm, coming up on IMC W huh?

KRANZ: Yea

CAPCOM: 13, we've got one more item for you when you get a chance. We'd like you to stir up your cryo tanks.

Another voice amidst the typical 5 guys talking at once: That already occurred, EECOM.

EECOM: I missed it. Thank you.

55:52 it came on.

EECOM: Thank you.

Before anything else was done, EECOM wanted to make sure the cryo stir was done.

Remember that temperature sensitive switch inside that one O2 tank...?

EECOM: Guys, look at your O2 quantities, see if you see a big change.

GUIDANCE: Flight Guidance.

FLIGHT: Go ahead Guidance.

GUIDANCE: We've finally got our delta H update. Do you want to just read it up to the crew or uplink it?

KRANZ: Uh..let's see now. Can we collapse deadbands and do all that good stuff if we uplink here?

GUIDANCE: Uh...yea...uh...why don't we just read it up to them?

KRANZ: Well if they enter it through the DSKY are they gonna do it?

GUIDANCE: Stand by one.

KRANZ: Well, they haven't stabilized in that attitude yet so I don't think they're going to have any problems.

GUIDANCE: Yea, I don't think there's any problems, they haven't opened up deadbands yet.

KRANZ: Yea that's just what I'm saying. The time to do it is now, Guidance.

GUIDANCE: Flight, Guidance.

KRANZ: Go guidance.

GUIDANCE: As long as he's in P00 and don't re-select he can...

Another conversation comes in over the loop, again typical...one had to be selective and listen to what he needed out of the many conversations going on simultaneously.

EECOM: ECS EECOM.

ECS: Go EECOM:

EECOM: You get your stir now on the O2?

Rather normal end-of shift type talk in the MOCR...and then, at 22:07:53 EST, on the COMM loop from the spacecraft, about a two second burst of static came across. Data in mission control winked a bit. Nothing seemed all too alarming about that. ECS immediately chimed in about that, and EECOM responded before he could get done his thought...

ECS: That might be...

EECOM: No that's data.

ECS: He's gone off the high gain.

No big deal really. The White team was moving through what was going to be a relatively routine closeout and handover to Glynn Lunney and the Black Team.

Aboard ship, the "pleasant night in Oddysey" had suddenly turned somewhat unpleasant...

[MID]

What's the matter with the data EECOM?!

Kranz continued his exchange with guidance about the updates. TELMU called flight a couple seconds later and behind his call this came crackling through the air to ground loop:

SWIGERT: OK ,Houston we've had a problem here!

From that second, everything changed rapidly, including heart rates, and cigarette consumption.

Try to imagine 10 guys talking to each other at the same time...four or five exchanges... while a CAPCOM was talking to the crew...I wouldn't describe it as pandemonium, but it was perplexing and confusing and noisy and instantly a bit tense...and it would grow more tense by the minute.

It was kinda like this (You had MOCR flight controllers, and guys in the back rooms all starting to chime in at the same time):

What the matter with the data EECOM?!

White Team EECOM for 13 was Sy Liebergot. Sy was essentially the central character in this mess (and EECOMs would be the central guys in this whole situation, as their area of expertise was the major area of concern (power, and oxygen)) , in charge of Electrical, Environmental, and COnsumables (the M was for "Manager").

We got more than a problem!

OK Listen you guys, we've lost uh...fuel cell one N2 pressure...

We lost 02 tank 2 pressure.

In the meantime, CAPCOM called back with a "Say again," and Lovell came on with:

"Uh Houston We've had a problem...

OK.

Stand by, they've got a problem!

LOVELL" "..we've had a main B buss undervolt."

The chatter increases. EECOM is talking to flight--

OK Flight, we've got...we've got some instrumentation Flight. Let me add 'em up.

KRANZ: Rog.

CAPCOM: OK, stand by 13, we're looking at it.

EECOM: We may have had an instrumentation problem Flight.

KRANZ: Rog.

EECOM: OK, let's ..get our instrumentation lined up here you guys. ECS what do you got?

A minute had passed since the occurrence...whatever it was. The process of analysis had begun in the MOCR instantaneously, and every time the crew opened their mouths to add some description, you heard, "STAND BY!" come over from someone so everyone could shut up and listen to what the crew was saying so they could pick out some clues about what their instruments were telling them.

One of the skills of a flight controller was that of being able to distinguish who's conversation was important, to pick it out of the frequent din of multiple conversations (one could usually hear them all at the same time), and focus on that one. In this case, if the crew was talking, you generally heard someone call for a hush, and everyone listened, determined if it was something they needed, and continued on with what they were doing...instantaneously.

At this point they didn't know what had actually occurred, and they wouldn't for some time.

The first impression of EECOM was that it was an instrumentation problem, and was polling to try and find out just what everyone was seeing. He was getting information from ECS regarding his readings, and the transmission from the spacecraft came through:

"We had a pretty large bang associated with the caution and warning there. And as I recall main B was the one that had an amp spike on it once before."

EECOM: OK...is that pressure comin' down?

"Sy, we gotta find out what the configuration in on the cryo tanks...on the heaters and fans."

It's difficult to describe, and impossible to accurately transcribe the multiple conversations that were going on in the MOCR at that moment. A couple of minutes had passed when a controller came on with:

"Hey we got some problems with fuel cell 1...and 2 . We're bleedin' it out..."

The crew was reading their instrumentation regarding O2 and N2 quantities, EECOM was looking at MOCR readings on those tanks, trying to make some sense of what the readings were saying, and we now had a description of fuel cell 1 and 2 dropping off line.

A minute later...

ECS: Fuel cell 3's gone to zero.

ECS: We need to put a fuel cell on Buss B.

EECOM: OK. Flight EECOM.

FLIGHT: Go ahead.

EECOM: He's flipping the fuel cells around, Flight.

FLIGHT: Well Sy let's get some recommendations here, if you got any better ideas.

ECS: Fuel cell one is disconnected from A. We need to reconnect fuel cell 1 to A and 3 to B. See if he can reconnect 'em!

EECOM: OK. Flight, EECOM.

FLIGHT: Go ahead.

EECOM: He's got uh...fuel cells 1 and 3 are off line. We've got main A volts, we have no main B volts. Have him attempt to re-connect the fuel cells...fuel cell 1 to main A, fuel cell 3 to main B.

Let's just try that.

After copying the recommendation...

FLIGHT: OK, do we have instrumentation problems?

EECOM: Well, it does appear we've lost AC buss 2 voltage. Main B is reading 4 volts..and that effectively takes AC 2 away from us.

The madness continues, and EECOM says: Larry, you don't believe that O2 tank one pressure, do you?

No...surge tank is good.

They're looking at problems with the RCS (attitude control--the spacecraft is moving without command), trying to get the crew to put a couple fuel cells back on line, and doubting their instrumentation readings...all at the same time. Individual conversations are moving back and forth between several groups of controllers.

6 minutes after the explosion (and remember, we don't exactly know it was an explosion), the crew attempts to reconnect the fuel cells as instructed.

SWIGERT: Ok Houston I'm showing...I tried to reset and fuel cell 1 and 3 are both showing grey flags...but they're both showing zip on the flows.

EECOM (with a decided hint of exasperation): I copy Flight.

EECOM: Flight EECOM.

FLIGHT: Go EECOM:

EECOM: Let's reverse the configuration.

FLIGHT: OK, what do you want to do?

EECOM: Let's try to put fuel cell 1 on main B, fuel cell 3 on main A. We'll use the other sensing circuitry.

FLIGHT : (reads back and then adds)...OK, but if we get any problems in the system I want to make sure that we don't blow the voltage off main A, then we're not gonna be able to see anything.

About 7 minutes in ... the din in the MOCR still ongoing as everyone tries to figure out what the hell's going on up there...

KRANZ: Can we review our status here Sy, and see what we've got from a standpoint of status? What do you think we've got in the spacecraft that's good?

EECOM: Main buss A is reading 25 volts...and that's reflected by the fact that fuel cell 2 is puttin' out 53 amps, which is just about the most it can and keep our voltage up--so that's bonified. AC buss 2 is zero, which is reflected by the fact we lost main B......the conversation was interrupted by other calls to EECOM. Typical madness.

ECS came on with: ...We might have a pressure problem in a fuel cell...it looks like....both fuel cells simultaneously.

EECOM: That can't be!?

ECS: I can't believe that right off the bat...but they're not feedin' currents!

EECOM: Yea if you believe that N2 pressure, we blew a, a sphere!

ECS: yea, we might have blown fuel cell 1...looks like fuel cell 2...3 is gone too!

EECOM: Flight EECOM, let's get readouts on a couple fuel cell pressures here...

Nine minutes into this mess...the suggestion that we may have "blown a sphere" is made, but still we don't actually know.

You wouldn't believe all the trouble they were dealing with. The RCS was firing for some reason in response to attitude changes, we didn't exactly know what was going on power wise, we were trying all sorts of configuration changes to try and get some real handle on what was going on with the fuel cells...and the fuel cells provided all the power for the CM.

14 minutes in, Lovell reported that O2 tank 2 pressure was reading zero, and he added the following:

"...and it looks to me in looking out the hatch that we are venting something....out into space."

FLIGHT: EECOM , flight...you called in any of your backup EECOMs...see if we can get any more brainpower on this?

EECOM: We got one here.

FLIGHT: Rog.

Several calls had been made from the MOCR, and within 15 minutes of the explosion, people had started streaking into the room from home. In a short time the room would be packed with people...every flight control team, and astronauts would come pouring into that room.

...and the place would look like this--

It was around 22:22 EST on 13 April, 1970 when Gene Kranz was saying this in the MOCR (again, surrounded by the din of ever-increasing conversations laced with ever-increasing urgency):

FLIGHT: OK everybody keep cool, we got the LM still attached, the spacecraft's good ...let's solve the problem and let's not make it any worse by guessing.

Just prior to this, Glynn Lunney, the oncoming flight director (leader of the Black Team, who was going to be coming on shift presently) called Chris Craft, the Boss, for Kranz. Kranz got on the phone with Betty Anne, Kraft's wife, who told Kranz he was in the shower.

Kranz responded, "Betty Ann, get him out, I need to talk to him." Chris Kraft got on the phone, and Kranz described what they were seeing, and said, "Chris, you better get here quick. We're in deep ****. I think we've had it!"

Kraft was in his car in minutes.

Kranz realized that Lovell's report of something venting put the preliminary pieces together. Something had blown in the service module. We were losing electrical power, the spacecraft was maneuvering by itself because of whatever was venting, RCS was trying to compensate, we didn't know what else, but certainly suspected oxygen loss based on reports and data so far...and we had to start thinking about the LM. The lunar mission was off at this point in his mind, and he tried to get his crew in the MOCR to settle into survival mode, find out what the problem really was, and get this crew back home in one piece.

EECOM was now very concerned that we had in fact lost O2 tank 1.

EECOM: Flight?

FLIGHT: Go ahead.

EECOM: I think the best thing we can do right now is start a power-down. Let's go down to emergency 1 dash 5.

We were draining too much power on one fuel cell. They began by looking for a 10 amp power-down. And still they were trying to get the load decreased to the point where fuel cell 2, which was still running but unable to handle the load, could run both busses.

And CM batteries were also running, due to the lack of normal current, and we had to conserve battery power for entry.

By 23 minutes into this analysis, EECOM got the following message:

ECS: EECOM, ECS.

EECOM: Go ahead.

ECS: Hey Sy...we coulda lost O2 tank 2!

EECOM: Yea!

ECS: That looks like the one.

EECOM: Now lets...we gotta get a pressure readout on that thing! Flight, EECOM:

FLIGHT: Go EECOM.

EECOM: Ok I need one thing right now. He's powering down, he's down to 41 amps total spacecraft. I'd like to get my AC 2 buss back...so I could look at O2 tank 2 pressure. I have no insight into that.

FLIGHT: OK.

EECOM: Let's put...I guess we can put inverter 3 to main A....AC 2.

FLIGHT: Before you do that would you like to make sure you got all AC loads isolated from the buss?

EECOM: No...let's not do that right now flight. I think we're in good shape that way. Main A is up high enough that I think we're gonna handle the inverter.

FLIGHT: The thing that concerns me is starting...is throwing equipment....we had a problem. We don't know the cause of the problem...

EECOM: Flight, I've got a feeling we've lost two fuel cells. I hate to put it that way but, I don't know why we've lost 'em. It doesn't all tag up. It's not an instrumentation problem. That's the best I can tell right now.

24 minutes in: The problem is real. We don't understand it yet, but it's not some instrumentation glitch as was originally thought.

28 minutes:

FLIGHT: NETWORK from FLIGHT

NETWORK: Flight, NETWORK.

FLIGHT: Bring me up another computer in the RTTC will ya?

NETWORK: We got one computer in the RTCC...

FLIGHT: OK, I want another machine up in the RTCC and I want a bunch of guys capable of running D logs down there.

NETWORK: Roger that.

Kranz wanted the data logs from just prior to the occurrence run. The D logs would show all data that was being received from the spacecraft. Kranz was thinking toward analysis and solution creation, and needed all the data he could get to assess everything subsequent to the end of his shift, which was coming up within a half hour or so.

There would be no going home for the White Team tonight.

We're still trying to see what O2 tank 2's pressure is, we've been running a battery for about a half hour, we need to power down some more to get the thing off line and allow fuel cell 2 to pick up all the load, and we're also still trying to determine what to do about the spacecraft's oscillations....

At 31 minutes into the situation, We thought we had lost O2 tank 2...it showed nothing, and we saw that we were losing O2 tank 1 pressure. The thought at that time was that O2 tank 1's pressure was decreasing because we had no power to it and it wasn't getting any heat cycles to it to keep the pressure up. The opinion was that they didn't think O2 tank 1 was affected by whatever happened to O2 tank 2.

The guys were trying to figure out how to get power to the heaters for tank 1, so as to get the pressure up and supply the fuel cells.

At 36 minutes in, it was realized that the heater circuit for O2 tank 1 operated off of main buss A, which was on...but they were getting no operation of the heater. It would take 5 amps of power to manually cycle the heaters. This was put in work, which was followed by the following :

EECOM: ECS, EECOM.

ECS: Go ahead.

EECOM: It looks grim.

ECS: Yes it does.

EECOM: Got the 5 amps and no pressure increase....it's goin' down, we're losin' it.

ECS: Yes we are.

ECS: Let's try the fan, Sy.

EECOM: OK, leave the heaters on, right?

ECS: Yea, if it's not causing any problem on your buss.

They tried to cycle the fans in tank 1...

No joy.

EECOM: Flight EECOM.

Flight: Go ahead EECOM:

EECOM: The pressure in O2 tank 1 is all the way down to 297, we better think about getting in the LM and using the LM systems. We've gotta power way down, and I don't know if I'm going to be able to save the O2 for the third fuel cell....fuel cell 2.

It was 22:47 EST...

We were now talking about lifeboat procedures using the LM.

Still, they weren't completely buying it. Kranz wanted some circuit breakers checked to make sure the current was moving to the heaters and fans. Maybe we had a circuitry problem that was inhibiting the heaters and fans from working.

The response from Liebergot was immediate and they put the circuit breaker checks in work.

A report from the spacecraft at 22:50 EST indicated that the venting had virtually stopped. The rates had begun to stabilize in the spacecraft a bit.

And at 44 minute mark into the situation, we heard this:

Uh, Sy, it looks like from the leak rate it looks like we've got about 1 hour 54 minutes until we're down to about 100 psia in tank 1...which is about the end of it for the fuel cells.

No joy. Nothing was working regarding the pressure drop in O2 tank 1.

I have to tell you, this analysis exhausted every possible problem the fellows could think of in the O2 fuel cell plumbing. It looked at this point like we may have had a problem involving the plumbing in fuel cell 3, and the thinking was that shutting off the reactant valve to fuel cell 3, and see if that would increase the O2 pressures to fuel cells 1 and 2. Fuel cells 1 and 2 were trying to hold up, as best as the MOCR could determine. Complete shutdown of fuel cell 3 and isolation of the valves were ordered.

Power down of the CM continued to conserve power loads.

We still had no insight into the fact that an explosion had damaged both O2 tanks beyond any hope.

54 minutes in, EECOM requested where the pressure of the O2 tank in question was when this thing started. ECS reported that there was an immediate drop in the O2 tank 1 from nominal pressure to 373 psig.

EECOM: That's why it looked like an instrumentation problem.

ECS: Right.

EECOM: But it can't be!

It wasn't.

56 minutes in, fuel cell 3 was isolated and the pressures in fuel cell 1 and 2 were still going down.

57 minutes in...

FLIGHT: OK, all flight controllers , I suggest you start handing over because I think a fresh team's probably going to be thinking clearer, I think the rest of us can continue working in some other function in support of the new team coming on.

At the one hour mark, it was time to hand over. The exchange that took place was as follows:

EECOM: Now let me tell you, we're in danger of losing all three fuel cells. so you guys get yourself geared up, OK?

Rog.

FLIGHT: We're handing over...to Glynn. I suggest the White Team goes back and starts going through the D-log of the data...in other words let's see if we can go back to the initial conditions and work on that problem and see if we can find out what happened and we might find out some better clues as to what to do and let the fresh guys come on and try to figure out where do we go from here.

Essentially, everything tried didn't work.

We lost O2 tank 2, we were losing O2 tank 1, and nothing that was tried had any effect on the loss of tank 1 pressure. The MOCR managed the attitude oscillation, the venting seemed to diminish, and they were working on a power down of the CM to allow for fuel cell 2 to maintain essential function, but fuel cell two was still losing pressure, and it wasn't going to last long.

As Glynn Lunney came on shift in relief of Kranz, he had a major crisis on his hands. The LM lifeboat procedures and a complete CM power down, never done before, was in the offing, and another problem was present: how to get home quickly.

There was no complete understanding of what had happened yet.

They knew at that point what appeared to be inevitable: we were going to lose our SM power generating capability, our water, our CM breathing oxygen, and the CM was going to have to be shut down, and the LM was going to have to be used as a lifeboat.

It had just begun. Most Americans were in bed...but when they awoke, they'd know that there was a serious crisis in space.

[MID]

Mission Aborted

As the Black team handover approached that night, we knew we had no landing mission. In fact, all emphasis was on saving the crew.

Glynn Lunney (Black team "FLIGHT") had been in the "Trench"--down in the front row of the MOCR (where all the guidance and navigation was controlled from), prior to coming on shift. He was looking at get-home procedures from the perspective of burns, types of trajectories, and such things as that.

Chris Kraft had been at the FD's console, plugged in and monitoring the situation. Presently, Black Flight Lunney and Maroon Flight Windler (who had launched Apollo 13) were meeting at the console, discussing plans to get the crew back, and Kraft backed away to let them do their jobs.

One of those things that Flight Directors had was absolute authority over the control of a flight. They were completely responsible for what they did, were charged with doing it, and were left alone by upper management. In fact, all flight controllers were so empowered, and that's one of the reasons why the teams were so effective. Personal responsibility was absolute in that room.

No one infringed on the authority of a flight director...not the NASA administrator, not even the President of the United States.

A debate ensued among Windler, Lunney, and Kranz, as two possibilities were discussed pertaining to getting the crew home.

Debates were not uncommon among Flight Directors.

One was a direct abort, which would involve flying in front of the Moon, jettisoning the Lm and using all the fuel in the the SPS to get the crew home. That option would return the crew in approximately 34 hours.

The other option swings around the Moon, doesn't use the SPS (it uses LM engines) , but takes two days longer (we're talking around 80 hours), but it keeps the LM.

The problem was this:

The LM had enough reserves to last two days for two men. We had three men and needed 4 days worth of consumables. Further, the path around the Moon left them two days short on battery power.

Windler was arguing that the direct abort was shortest and best, but Lunney and Kranz disagreed. They wanted to keep the LM attached because they hadn't nailed down the precise cause of the problem, nor the real extent of the damage. The fear was that perhaps the SPS had been damaged...if we let go of the LM to get home quick, we might not be going anywhere!

Lunney and the guys in the trench were very tense about executing a direct abort...this was a complex and delicate maneuver.

From my thinking, we were already involved in powering down a dying CM, and we still couldn't get a handle on what caused the problems we were having. We were talking about the LM as a lifeboat. What we'd have to do is power up the CM and execute a burn...on batteries. Then, what do we do about the ensuing 34 hours as the batteries, which only have a couple hours life in them, drain, and the oxygen????

...is it actually leaking out of tank 1? Looks like it. The flight control team sure can't get the pressure up in it. Further, something had to have blown in the SM. What, we didn't know, but the idea of a possibly damaged SPS engine system was in Kranz's head, and he was very hesitant to use that engine ever.

The time for a debate was limited. Kranz turned around and told Kraft he didn't want to attempt a direct abort, and Lunney agreed, stating that such a scenario closed out their options.

Kranz knew the systems guys probably would've favored a direct abort...from their perspective, but the guys in the Trench were mighty relieved to realize that their planning was going to be involved in a swing around the Moon abort.

It was around 23:30 EDT when Kranz and a whole slew of flight controllers walked into a data room on the second floor of the Control Center. Guys were sitting at tables, sitting on the floor, leaning against a wall...anywhere they could. The D-logs were spread all over the place, with a group highlighting everything they could spot that might point to a cause of the problem. There was the entire White Team, augmented by other flight controllers, as well as engineers and Managers from Grumman and North American, the designers of the CSM and LM.

By that time, the O2 pressure in tank one had reached 100 psi, and the direction was clear, if not the cause of the problem. The Black Team was presiding over the transfer of the crew to the LM, working the maneuver plans for the return home, and the conservation of as many CM resources as was possible. Lunney also got the navigation data transferred to the LM computer, and, albeit reluctantly, had the CM computer, and the entire CM shut down.

Kranz had chosen three men to lead the efforts required to get this crew back home. Arnie Aldrich (Who had been Kranz's GNC (Guidance, navigation, and Control Systems Engineer)), Bill Peters (TELMU (In charge of LM electrical and environmental systems) on Jerry Griffin's Gold Team), and John Aaron (EECOM...who you've already heard about...John Aaron was the one who made the call that avoided the Apollo 12 abort 5 months earlier).

After setting up his planning and personnel to take care of recording it, he called these three to the front of the room and spoke the following:

"OK team, we've got a hell of a problem. There has been some type of explosion aboard the spacecraft. We still don't know what happened. We are on the long return around the Moon and it is our job to figure out how to get them home.

From now on, the White team is off-line. Lunney, Griffin, and Windler will sit the console shifts...

...and at that moment, Lunney was sitting as General in charge of some pretty critical stuff (he'd just been handed a handful...):

That's Glynn, sitting at the Flight Directors console ...

"We will return only for two major events. The first will a maneuver, if we decide to do one, after we pass the Moon. The second will be the final reentry. the odds are damned long, but we're damned good. My three leads will be Aldrich, Peters, and Aaron. make sure everyone, and I mean everyone, knows the mandate I'm giving them. Aldrich will be the master of the integrated checklist for the entry phase. he will build the checklist for the CSM from the time we start power-up until the time we are on the water.

"John Aaron will develop the checklist strategy and has the spacecraft resources. He will build and control the budgets for the electrical, water, life support, and any other resources to get us home. Whatever he says goes. he has absolute veto authority over any use of our consumables.

"Bill Peters will focus on the Lunar Module lifeboat. There are probably a lot of things we have not considered, and he will lead the effort on how to turn a two-day, two-man spacecraft into one that will last four days with three men..

"Whatever any of these three ask of you, you will do."

After addressing the Program Office and design engineers in the room, and telling them that they were to give their full cooperation, and unlimited access to all resources to the three men standing there, he addressed the whole group:

"OK, listen up! When you leave this room, you must leave believing that this crew is coming home. I don't give a damn about the odds and I don't give a damn that we've never done anything like this before. Flight Control will never lose an American in space. You've got to believe--your people have got to believe--that this crew is coming home Now let's get going!"

Midnight eastern time, 13 April 1970.

A long few days awaited.

[MID]

Things were moving fast.

Down in the MOCR, Glynn Lunney’s team had gotten the crew evacuated into the LM, and at 03:42 EDT on 14 April successfully completed a small maneuver utilizing the LM descent engine. The maneuver was designed to establish a free-return trajectory for Apollo 13. As I had mentioned, Apollo 13’s trajectory was the first one for an Apollo flight that was not free-return.

Basically, as of 4 am on 14 April, they would be coming home.

However, this free-return trajectory would plop the spacecraft down in the Indian Ocean at 152 hours GET. Recovery Forces weren’t assembled in such a remote location and wouldn’t arrive in time for the planned landing, which was of course not an optimal situation.

Further, the LM would have to support the crew for 90 hours, and with severe constraints on consumables, that was pressing our luck, so more needed to be done.

After Kranz had finished with his meeting, he was back in the MOCR getting an update from Lunney. The plan was to power down the LM navigation computer (we’re looking to conserve power and resources in the LM of course, since it’s not designed to sustain three men for the time period we were planning on).

A new decision was playing with the luck factor, as these fellows, knowing that it was mighty difficult to align the platform using stars from the LM optics (due to sunlight reflecting off the CSM), and the fact that it was compounded because Apollo 13 was floating in a cloud of its own debris, required keeping the LM computer powered up until the final get home maneuver…which was hours away. We were trading LM power for the ability to align the navigation platform, and of course cutting into our power reserves by doing so.

But if you couldn’t align the platform, you were going to have a hell of a time getting home in one piece! This is the kind of trade-off the controllers had to deal with for the entire process of getting 13 home.

Kranz informed Aaron of this new complication thrown into the mix. As power manager, Aaron’s job had just become more complicated…maybe unmanageable. He told Kranz that if they took this approach, they’d have to power down to minimum survival levels, suffer very limited telemetry, and it was going to get cold without power (heating was mostly supplied by the electric power running equipment), and the possibility that some systems might freeze up loomed large.

But the best judgment said they had to keep the computers up to align the platform, so it was deemed the only option and Aaron was told to “Get on it.”

In the mean time, the initial estimates painted a grim picture:

We were 24 hours short on electrical power.

We were 36 hours short on water.

Water was required for equipment cooling, drinking, and food preparation. It was a critical item. Fortunately, a lot of time had been spent developing mission rules and procedures for just about every possible contingency. Some of those procedures involved water conservation, and we could use the CM survival water supply, condensed sweat, and even the crews urine to cool equipment if the chips were really down that far.

At this point in the operation, the critical decision revolved around the trans-earth injection burn and the options that existed for it. Obviously, we were going to use the LM DPS for the burn, but

the options involved how rapid a return to Earth they should pursue. Jerry Griffin (Gold Team Flight) pushed for any option that would get the splashdown point moved to the Pacific Ocean, where recovery forces were available. I think that was pretty much the universal FD option.

Some other options involved even quicker return options which would bring us to a splashdown as much as 24 hours earlier than projected, but those options involved jettisoning the SM to reduce mass and using all of the LM’s descent fuel. There were some other even quicker option which Kranz vetoed because they were too tricky and time critical and closed out downstream options in case something went wrong. And there was even debate on using the SPS engine…which Kranz and Lunney didn’t even want to try.

It was around 08:10 on the 14th when Griffin’s team took the hand over from Lunney’s. The three FDs discussed maneuver options and decided on using the DPS in an option that would move the splashdown up to around 142 hours GET. It was a compromise between the quickest and slowest option, preserved LM fuel capability in case corrections were needed, and would allow a Pacific splashdown. It left options on the table where other’s didn’t.

It was now around 65 hours GET. The road to safety, if that could actually be accomplished for Apollo 13, would last another 77 hours—IF everything went perfectly.

It would be a long cold three days.

Griffin's team would prep for the burn. The back room teams would work non stop with Astronauts in simulators, and contractor engineers, gathering data and making plans for powering up the CM (which had never been done before in space), managing LM resources, and going through John Aaron for every single power request or plan that was made to see if they could get some of it.

At around 16:00 eastern on the 14th when Kranz’ White Team manned the consoles for the TEI burn. We were now some 74 hours into Apollo 13…some 18 hours after the explosion.

We were moving right along, and the Gold Team had done a superb job of setting things up for the burn. The White team briefed the crew on mission rules, procedures, burn parameters, consumable status, and the strategy in case of a loss of communications during the return trip.

Folks were fairly comfortable with the burn maneuver. Such a maneuver had been done on Apollo 9 the previous March to test the LM capabilities for just such a scenario. But the viewing room at around 8 pm eastern was packed to the gills. The press was everywhere, and the MOCR itself was stacked to the gills with tense faces…like Al Shepard's...

And upper management…

And everyone who could plug in somewhere!

Apollo 13 passed around the backside of the Moon, re-emerged, and at 20:07, the DPS engine ignited for a 4.5 minute burn which was executed perfectly. The burn added 1000 FPS to the velocity of the spacecraft, and fixed our landing time at 142 hours in the Pacific Ocean.

There was a huge relief felt at the successful execution. Apollo 13 would come home right where we wanted. But still, there was a lot of time left, and many problems to deal with…

The work pressed on at a fever pitch.

[DONTEATUS]

Thank you Universe for Mid and the Apollo program!

Good to See you back in Full Form Mid! I Love your Work,And Dont be Shy Its a lot of work doing what you Do!

I know Im trying to Fit parts of the LRV into a 1936 Chevy we brought back !LoL

[MID]

Thank you Universe for Mid and the Apollo program!

Good to See you back in Full Form Mid! I Love your Work,And Dont be Shy Its a lot of work doing what you Do!

I know Im trying to Fit parts of the LRV into a 1936 Chevy we brought back !LoL

Thanks, D.

I appreciate it alot!

[MID]

MOCR:

21:00 E, 14 April 1970

The White Team had been on for about 34 hours straight. The tiredness and the stubble showed on the faces of the men controlling the flight. And aboard spacecraft, three very tired men, who were fully aware that their lives were in the balance, needed sleep.

After the TEI maneuver, Kranz had gone back for further meetings with the engineers and teams that were struggling with the situation. Systems controllers had been watching the temperature at various places in the spacecraft and were concerned that some of them were going to hit limits. It had been thought that the random drift that the spacecraft was in would maintain overall temperatures at safe levels. Kranz’ meeting after TEI told him otherwise and he decided that he’d have to do PTC (Passive Thermal Control, the roll maneuver which maintained even solar heating and cooling levels for a spacecraft traveling to or from the Moon).

This was generally SOP, but in the present case it posed some difficulty. The maneuver had never been done using LM RCS. Those jets were off axis to a level that would mean the set up and firing would have to be absolutely perfect, otherwise, the spacecraft would not spin stably…it would wobble, killing the effect.

Kranz was convinced that in order to preserve systems, this had to be done before powering down the spacecraft and getting the crew to sleep. While he was discussing this with the White team, the trouble started.

Deke Slayton wanted no parts of it, and he glared at Kranz saying, “I want you to get my crew to sleep. They’re too damned tired and they’re going to make a mistake!” Chris Kraft was also in the fray and he immediately shouted, “I want you to get that spacecraft powered down! You’re too damned close on the batteries!”

Kranz snapped back:

“Crew sleep and power down are going to have to wait. We won’t let them home if we let everything freeze up. I’m gonna do the PTC!”

He waved them off and barked to the CAPCOM:

CAPCOM, read the crew the PTC procedures.

Kraft and Slayton retreated to Management Row. Max Faget (our genius designer) came out of the SPAN room, sat with Kraft, and told him that PTC was the right thing to do.

The mandate of the Flight Director held firm, and Kranz was about as firm as it got. He was well aware of the problem he faced. He would certainly agree that the crew (as well as he and his team) needed sleep desperately, as everyone was dangerously tired. He was also fully aware that every second they kept that vehicle powered up, they were losing power. But he was also fully aware that if systems froze…all their work would be for naught. He wanted this crew back alive, and it was going to be uncomfortable and difficult.

They simply had to perform…everyone.

They went through the PTC checklist and the crew set it up. They fired the LM jets, PTC started, and then the wobbling started. You first had to get the entire stack perfectly stabilized…no motion. Then, the jets had to fire precisely, setting up the slow roll. The first attempt failed. Those LM jets were way off the center of mass of the spacecraft configuration. I think one could sense the exasperation and tension in the room. Kranz wasted no time looking at anything…

FLIGHT: OK CAPCOM, tell the crew we’re going to have to do it again.

The entire procedure was repeated, and some praying was going on as the crew once again initiated the maneuver.

It worked. We had a stable PTC!

It was now approaching midnight on 14 April. The spacecraft power down was underway immediately, and the crew would be hustled off to sleep ASAP. But it was going to get cold in there…damned cold, but frankly, crew comfort was the last priority on the minds of the control teams. It sounds rather heartless, but it was really the only thing to do. The crew would have to tough it out in the cold. If not, they were going to die.

I think the trade-off was reasonable.

And, the White Team could get a few hours of sleep as well, but not quite yet. Kranz went back and met with people again to review progress.

Another problem had cropped up in the past few hours regarding environment.

Three guys were breathing in the LM. LIOH (lithium hydroxide) was installed in both spacecraft to remove CO2 from the exhaled air. If this didn’t happen, levels would build to toxic levels in the spacecraft.

One might think, “So what? They’ve got LIOH.” But one would be wrong…another maddening complexity was upon us, and the matter was being fleshed out.

The LM used cylindrical LIOH canisters. There weren’t enough to scrub the atmosphere with three guys in there, and CO2 levels had started building. The CM used LIOH canisters as well, but in one of those strange twists, where you often find yourself thinking, “Why the hell didn’t we think about that before?”, the CM canisters were cubical square structures which served no purpose in the lifeless CM, and wouldn’t fit in the LM system.

But the minds in the back rooms had already begun working in earnest on the problem of how you fit a square peg in a round hole, and a solution was just about complete—

In the movie Apollo 13, they portrayed this rather dramatically, showing somebody tossing a box full of junk on a table and saying something like, ‘This is what they’ve got to work with—figure out what to do!’

It wasn’t exactly like that. It was an analytical process, not a haphazard make-something-out-of–a-box-of-stuff scramble. The end result rather looked like the latter, but it wasn’t. The modification was planned, built, and tested, and detailed procedures were written pertaining to how to construct and install it.

Cardboard ( a flight plan book cover), a sock, a plastic bag, a hose from one of the suits, and the ever present, universally useful duct tape were used to allow the square CM LIOH cans to be used in the LM’s system.

Here it was…as Deke Slaton explained the thing to Management, as FD Milt Windler looked on.

And on board Aquarius, the guys put the fix in-work.

This is what it looked like installed in the LM—

And the thing worked like a charm. Within minutes of getting this contraption installed in Aquarius, the CO2 level began to drop. Another problem eliminated…

_______________________________________________________

No one ever hears much about the Apollo 13 photo return.

I suppose that’s rather natural, since Apollo 13 never landed on the Moon…they streaked by it on the way to get the hell back home.

But there were about 480 photos taken by the crew. I suppose that being in close proximity just makes you get out the camera…and what the heck else were they going to do while they waited to get in position to fire off the DPS and get on the way home?

Besides, the Moon from rather close proximity is astounding…

But the best pictures had to be these…

…as she shrank behind the now sleeping Oddysey:

There were a lot of shots of a receding Moon in the Apollo 13 catalogue…

In the wee hours of 15 April, the crew was finally trying to get some sleep, and the White Team was sent home to catch about 6 hours before returning to the Control Center. The Maroon and Gold Teams were handling things…and while some folks finally got some well deserved sleep…many others were still blasting away at the problems.

[MID]

The Final Phase of the Struggle

At this time, there probably wasn't a thought in anyone's mind on board...or on the ground, that Aquarius was supposed to be on the Moon at this moment, with Lovell and Haise on board preparing to venture out on man's 4th EVA on the lunar surface.

Aquarius now was condemned as a lunar landing vehicle, and was performing another function: lifeboat for Jim Lovell, Fred Haise, and Jack Swigert.

As might be expected, the wives of Jim Lovell and Fred Haise were on hand in the observation room (Jack Swigert was a bachelor), and they were treated with kid gloves, receiving briefings from their own exclusively assigned people.

Here you see Mary Haise being briefed by astronaut Jerry Carr

...and Marilyn Lovell is briefed by Dr. Charles Berry (Director of the Medical Branch at KSC)...

It's rather difficult to imagine the emotions that were going through their minds at this time...

In the MOCR, the intensity still continued. Here we see the CAPCOM Console with Slayton sitting next to jack Lousma, 3rd Shift CAPCOM, and backup CDR John Young over at the far side. Standing right by Lousma is Vance Brand, the 2nd Shift CAPCOM, and behind him is Ken Mattingly, who was becoming integral to the solutions that were coming up by manning the CM simulator, along with other astronauts, and working through procedures in order to refine them and make them workable for the crew.

The room was constantly full, with more than one shift's personnel hanging around all the time.

hre we see two Flight Directors at the console, Glynn Lunney(left) and Gerry Griffin. Standing is astronaut Jim McDivitt (CDR of Apollo 9), at the time the Manager of the Apollo Spacecraft Program, and Deke Slayton, Director of Flight Crew Operations.

Nobody disappeared for long during these days...

________________________________________________

At this point, considering the situation, things had gone pretty well. The flight control teams had stabilized the situation, dealt with the CO2 problem, gotten the spacecraft into a stable PTC, and got them on their way home, preserving options.

The mad dash to manage resources in the spacecraft, build margins if possible, and plan the detailed procedures for the final phase of the mission (CM power up and entry) continued unabated. NASA Program Chiefs, and design engineers from North American and Grumman were everywhere, contributing data and answers. Astronauts were manning simulators continually, researching procedures.

The exchanges were continual, the compromises the same, and John Aaron, in charge of power resources, with his absolute veto power, ran the show like a general. Someone would propose something and Aaron would say, "Not good enough. I can only spare (X amount of current) for that. I need your best bottom line in an hour."

The give and take was constant, all day...all night.

The bottom line here was conservation of LM battery power, conservation of LM O2 supplies, and conservation of water. Keeping the crew inactive--sleeping, conserved oxygen reserves. Continual power downs kept the load low, and kept the power in reserve, and that in turn reduced water requirements for cooling the equipment.

But the price was cold inside the spacecraft.

The Apollo 13 crew was now huddling in whatever blankets were available, watching the condensation form on their windows from temperatures inside that dropped to approximately 38 degrees F. They were troopers, now not only dead tired, under the strain of maybe facing death, and additionally, Fred Haise began dealing with another problem.

Somehow, he had contracted a urinary tract infection (although he wouldn't know what was going on until after recovery). He awake with the chills, and had fever symptoms, chills and general weakness developing. One would never know, but that was hell in a 38 degree F cabin.

A question that I've heard before regarding the cold was, "Why didn't they wear their suits?"

Well, they explained that they'd considered it, but the benefits outweighed the problems.

You had to expend some energy to get into a suit, and while it would provide warmth, it was not provided any ventilation without hooking it into the spacecraft systems, and we were powered down and not wasting any resources. What would happen is that after about an hour or two, you were drenched in sweat inside one of those things, and you'd have to get out...exposing your now saturated body to very cold air, which would freeze your butt off.

Additionally, going to the bathroom involved getting out of your suit...and, mobility inside the rather tiny LM was severely restricted with a bulky spacesuit on.

The guys elected not to use the suits.

____________________________________________________________

It's a bit hard to describe adequately the intensity of the process going on in Houston, and at test facilities all over the country. One thing would take a couple pages to describe in detail. You multiply that by about 50, and that's the kind of intensity we were talking about on Apollo 13.

On 15 April, John Aaron had planned, vetoed, modified, and concocted a power plan that he felt was not only going to allow us to make it back, but would also leave us fat enough to charge the CM batteries using the LM power supply.

Aaron was brilliant. Considering the fact that he was 24 years old at the time...it makes his conduct even more special...this guy is a hero.

The CM batteries were of course required to power up the spacecraft again, when the time came, and they'd be necessary right through splashdown. But they'd been depleted during the initial couple hours after the explosion, and Aaron wanted to find a way to charge them up.

Another complexity was that the system was never designed to do this--charge the CM batteries from the LM. But a whole team of folks, under Aaron's direction were working the problem--a way to use the LM heater cable in a reverse direction to provide charge to the CM batteries.

Now there were discussions and negotiations occurring amongst the "big three guys", Aaron, Aldrich, and Peters. Aaron and Aldrich bargained with Peters for the excess power in the LM batteries, and flight controllers were intensely debating as well, weighing the risks to their systems against the benefits of doing this. As with everything on Apollo 13, decisions had to be made quickly. There was no point in having a 100% good decision arrived at twenty minutes too late to be any good at all, so Aaron finally decided the matter.

Fully realizing that the excess power was available, and that it made absolutely no sense to have it in the LM batteries when we jettisoned her, he stated to the teams that he was going to charge the CM batteries. He ordered a test rig set up to verify the procedures and measure the power loss during the charging process.

The SPAN room moved immediately, in the midst of their other analyses, and got going on this project.

In the mean time, the massive procedural analysis and fabrication for CM power up was still in work. Astronauts in simulators ran through everything, time and again, looking for problems, for things that could cause a tired and very weary crew to screw up. Revisions were made, over and over again.

Late on 15 April, the 10th revision was being used. The document was 39 pages in length and involved more than 400 steps for the crew to execute in order to bring a now dead Odyssey to life again prior to re-entry.

And tweaks to the trajectory had to be performed--mid-course corrections using the LM DPS and RCS systems in order to make sure the entry angle was going to be correct.

At about 21:50 EDT on 15 April, the crew executed a mid-course using the LM DPS. The crew set the position of the spacecraft relative to the Earth's terminator, Lovell controlled the pitch and roll, Haise operated the engine, and Swigert timed the event, while perched on the ascent engine cover in the LM.

It was a bit difficult, but it worked, and used little in resources.

At 06:21 E on 16 April, another small one was performed using the LM RCS...just prior to Aquarius' abandonment.

It was good too...

[MID]

Coming Home

It was around 18:00 eastern on 16 April 1970 when the White Team re-assumed their positions on console and began the process of taking the handover from the equally tired Gold team of Gerry Griffin.

Anxiety permeated the tired faces of everyone in the room. the White Team under Kranz had probably been off duty for a total or 8 hours in the past 80 ...

The primary thing right now was making sure that the final procedures for powering up the CM were right, that they worked, and getting that massive amount of information to the crew. By this time, a slew of tired people had been pounding this thing for days, and we had a procedure, a huge detailed procedure.

As the White Team sat beside their Gold team counterparts, CAPCOM Vance brand began the process of reading the checklist to the crew.

...and it rapidly stopped, as the loop began filling with controllers calling that they had no copy of the damned thing!

The rush to get this thing read avoided the step of making sure the control team had copies of this 40 page document...so the read-up was stopped and the original taken out for copies for the control teams.

...and the crew was getting testy. They knew it was being pushed to the very limit time-wise. they knew they had a huge amount of instructions to copy, and copy perfectly. then, they had to execute precisely a procedure that had never been done before. They knew it had to be done correctly and the first time. Then they knew they were going to have to jettison their service module, also never done in a docked configuration, then cast off Aquarius, then...execute a perfect re-entry...

And they were cold, and dead tired, and Fred Haise wasn't feeling to good, and they'd been under considerable strain and pressure for the past several days, and, they knew they were still in danger. Understandably, their impatience expressed itself, and CDR Lovell voiced his tension.

No one didn't understand that, and Deke Slayton, their boss, knew how to handle the situation, and in a rare occurrence, he plugged into the CAPCOM console and talked to them in a tone only he knew how to use.

Slayton was an astronaut. He understood pressure, he understood danger, and he fully understood the deadly tiredness in the voice from space. He was a pilot's pilot, a firm, no nonsense straight shooter type of guy, and he had a way of inducing re-assurance and calm.

During the half hour or so required to copy the procedures, the Boss spoke with Lovell and the crew and his demeanor reassured them that the procedures were good and all was well. He continued the chatter with his men while the MOCR team waited in an agonized tension of their own as the copies were made.

Coffee was consumed by the pot-full, and the cigarette smoke hung in the air of that room. That stuff kept the guys on task. The fact is that the flight surgeon team was well aware of their condition as well as that of the crew, and more than once, the offer of stronger stimulants were made to the control teams. But the guys worried about that, in respect to the fact that they'd crash when the stimulants wore off, and their performance might suffer, and that was not tolerable, so they declined, preferring to suck coffee and tobacco .

The blue haze inside the MOCR reflected the method in which these fellows decided to make due...

At 18:50 eastern on 16 April, the copies were in everyone's hands and the procedures started being read to the crew . The White and Gold teams began the read-up, with CAPCOMs Charlie Duke and Vance Brand beginning the process. Behind them were CAPCOMS Joe Kerwin and Ken Mattingly, carefully listening to every word uttered by their co-workers and the crew aloft...making sure they understood everything, and listening to the crew's question...trying to understand through their inflection whether or not they were understanding every single thing.

It was pretty much a crowded madhouse in there, with three different teams present. There was some concern that something might get lost in the translation during this painstaking process, but the CAPCOMs held the process together patiently. Any little slip up in comprehension, any mistake could be a fatal one for the crew.

This read-up continued throughout the night of the 16th, with Windler's Maroon team concluding the process at 06:30 eastern on the 17th of April. It had taken over 11 hours to transfer this massive set of information up to Apollo 13*. And as it was being completed, the White team took shift again, for the final procedures, and re-entry.

* We had no such thing as a printer aboard an Apollo spacecraft. Today, of course, we have e-mail and printers on board the Shuttle and the ISS, and massive amount of deltas to flight plans can be simply transmitted and printed on board...like the 100 pages of the 15 April 29010 STS-131 execute package. During Apollo, this information was read up and copied with a pen onto a pad of paper.

Also accomplished was a GO for an early power up of Odyssey. Windler wanted to use the reserve in the now charged CM batteries to get some heat to the crew by powering up two hours early. Aaron's team had told him we could do it, and he decided to do so.

The White team was coming back on shift for the final phase as dawn in Houston approached on the 17th...