February 20, 1979
Saint Louis, Missouri, the home of McDonnell Douglas
Music: the Beach Boys,
God only knows
The SM-65 Atlas had been the first operational intercontinental ballistic missile (ICBM) developed by the United States, and the first member of the Atlas rocket family. It was built for the U.S. Air Force by Convair Division of General Dynamics at the Kearny Mesa assembly plant north of San Diego, California.
In 1973 Convair took over Atlas little brother, the British
Blue Streak rocket. In 1954 Convair had transfered Atlas technology to De Havilland. Once a ballistic missile, the Blue Streak had been turned into the first stage of a civilian rocket, Europa. But Europa had been a miserable failure, and scrapped.
Next step for Canada was to build a launch pad. Fort Churchill - from which hundreds of Black Brant sounding rockets had been fired - was the leading candidate, but there was a more simple way: to loan a pad in Cap Canaveral. It was the second option that was chosen, but it had a major caveat, that is, how to ferry the Blue Streak to Florida.
The answer was the Canadair CL-44 Yukon, a cargo aircraft which tail could tilt laterally, opening the cargo hold to large payloads. With a fuselage diameter of 12 ft, the CL-44 could easily swallow a 10 ft wide Blue Streak and carry it to The Cape, 1500 miles to the South. An empty Blue Streak massed only 15 000 pounds, much less than the Yukon 55000 pounds payload. There was no need for Conroy "Skymonster" fuselage extension.
In 1971 the RCAF had sold its fleet of CL-44 to civilian operators; now the Canadian government hunted these aircrafts for its space program.
In December 1961, a Yukon had set a world record for its class when it flew 6,750 mi from Tokyo to RCAF Station Trenton, Ontario, in 17 hours, three minutes. In commercial operations, the CL-44 proved to be an extremely profitable aircraft to run with a fuel burn half that of a Boeing 707.
Convair, Canadair and Chapman decided that Blue Streak – Agena would launch from Launch Complex 13, once home of the Atlas.
Starting in 1958, Atlas B, D, E and F missiles had been tested from the complex. Afterwards, LC-13 remained the primary East Coast testing site for Atlas E missiles, with Atlas F tests mainly running from LC-11. Between February 1962 and October 1963 the pad had been converted for use by Atlas-Agena. The modifications were more extensive than the conversions of LC-12 and LC-14 with the mobile service tower being demolished and replaced with a new, larger tower.
The final launch from LC-13 was a Rhyolite satellite on 7 April 1978, using an Atlas-Agena. Blue Streak Agena came at the right moment to fill the launch pad.
Meanwhile on the other side of the world interest in Blue Streak Agena was growing.
When re-building a Cape Canaveral launch complex, John Chapman suggested to salvage Europa or Blue Streak structures to save money. While nothing was left of Europa in Kourou, Woomera, Australia, was different. There was the Blue Streak and Europa early test range. In 1975 Canada entered talks with the Australian government for salvaging any Blue Streak infrastructure that could be useful. There was brief talk of launching Blue Streak Agena from Woomera, but the Australian government was not interested.
The proposal, however, did not fell into deaf ears.
Sir Joh Bjelke-Petersen was Queensland’s long serving Premier, ruling the State in his own inimitable way from 1968. When in 1976 the Australian government flatly refused any involvement into the Convair – Canadair space launch venture, Stan Schaetzel from the Hawker De Havilland company floated the idea of a rocket launch facility in Cape York to the Queensland Government. Schaetzel proposed Queensland to join the Blue Streak Agena consortia – and to launch either from good old Woomera or from a new base in Cape York, with Darwin as backup.
Sir Joh was taken with the idea and in 1978 he commissioned the Institution of Engineers in Australia to undertake a preliminary study of what was soon called (pompously) the Queensland Space Agency (QSA).
...
"Telesat launched Anik B1 as the fourth in the world's first series of domestic communications satellite in geostationary orbit, operated by a commercial company. Anik B1 reached orbit aboard a Canadian Space Agency launcher that had lift-off from Cape Canaveral.
The launcher was a Blue Streak Agena build by Canadair in Valcartier, near Montreal under licence from General Dynamics and Lockheed.
For the record, Canadair is a division of General Dynamics; as for Lockheed, Canadair once build the company Starfighters under licence for the RCAF.
When Europe and the British government shut down the Europa program, General Dynamics jumped the bandwagon and marketed the Blue Streak as a little brother of their Atlas, which it really was since its inception, the British government having benefitted from technology transfers. Since the American government saw little interest in a launcher duplicating both Delta and… Atlas, General Dynamics had the idea to try and pitch the Blue Streak through its Canadair division. Of course the company needed support from Ottawa; and General Dynamics found an ally in the person of John Herbert Chapman, the influential author of a praised report on the Canadian space program…”
Reading the newscript brought tears into Owen Gordon eyes.
My country did it in the end – we have an indigenous launch vehicle, like Europe and Japan and China. We are launching our communication satellites; soon we will have our own access to the Liberty space station for Earth resources. This does not avenge the Arrow, but it is a step in the good direction. If only Crawford Gordon had lived to see that !
A colorfoul caracter, one among the bright engineers driving the Arrow project, Crawford Gordon had been devastated by its tragic end, dying as an alcoholic in New York a day of 1967…
And then was the date. February 20...
That day in Saint Louis, Missouri, Story England landed his T-38. Owen Gordon was waiting for him.
"Hello Story, nice to meet you again. It has been a while."
He escorted England into McDonnell headquarters. They had a low-level meeting planned, to discuss a sticky point: to reuse or not the Big Gemini crew capsules. He poured England coffee, and they had a frank discussion.
"You know, we never faced such situation. Look at it this way: Apollos splashed down in the ocean, and saltwater essentially ruined them forever. As far as we know, only a bit of Soyuz come back, and even if it land on solid ground, it is essentially ruined, too." Gordon said.
"Yes, and the shuttle would have been the exact opposite. We would have build a small fleet of reusable ships, flying them hundred of time each." England had some regrets in his voice.
"Forget the shuttle for now." Gordon was taunt "It happens that Big Gemini - Helios, damn it - eerh... Big G opened a can of worms. The thing a capsule with an ablative heatshield, like Apollo; yet it lands on a runway, like the shuttle."
England shuffled papers.
"There's many options, all rather interesting. Or we fully reuse it. Or we salvage the left capsules for spares. Or we try to fly again a couple of ships, to gain experience with the future shuttle... You know, a long time ago it occured to me that Big G looks like a shuttle cockpit flying solo." England noted.
"You are essentially correct. I also noted the similitude between the two."
"What I never really figured" England continued "is what will happen to all the capsules we will fly since, what, 1978. At a rate of five flights per year, we are dealing with, what, thirty ships or so within the next decade.
Gordon looked surprised "You're telling me that past the landing at Edwards you never cared what happens to the ship that carried you in orbit ?"
England had a big smile on his face. "Hell, no. I know that some were preserved for museums - from memory, the first to fly, in 1976; the one that approached Skylab; or the first to dock to Liberty. But all others - zippo. No idea. It's not like the shuttle would have been, you see, or fighters within a squadron; we are not bound to those ships emotionally, because they are expendable."
Gordon had a bizarre look on his face. "All right. Now I'm going to tell you about an interesting story. It entail my company and NASA. Follow me." He led England to a remote hangar, in a dusty, forgotten corner of the plant. He opened a door, set the lights on. England jaw fell to the ground.
a handful of crew capsules were lined - no, piled up - burned, battered vehicles of unmistakable shape. "What the hell is that ?" he muttered stupidly, as he already knew the answer.
"That ? that's the core of our problem. " Gordon laughed. "Everytime you astronauts land a crew capsule at Edwards or at the Cape skid strip, NASA send it to us back. At first those idiots stored them in a corner of the Vehicle Assembly Building, but one day they figured that was wasted space and expensive, and they send the whole fleet back to us. You have to imagine the mess that was, Supper Guppies ferrying the dead capsules, four at a time, again and again."
England shook his head in disbelief. He was aghast "Tell me that at least you salvaged them for spares."
"Nope ! We were forbidden. You should be well placed to know how risk-adverse NASA is those days. They consider that flown hardware is used, unreliable hardware." Gordon made pause. "That also explain why a proposal I made to refurbish those things and fly them as space station lifeboat fell by the wayside. Instead they asked Rockwell to build fresh Apollos ! Of course Carter saw this as NASA having
two manned ships, and cancelled the lifeboat. My proposal, by contrast, had Big Gemini as both crew ferry
and lifeboat... that was just one ship, and Carter would have accepted that more easily. And now Liberty has no lifeboat, and so we are forced to rotate crew six times a year, on the
Titan which is altogether a hangar queen and a beast to fly... "
England nodded. "I don't like the Titan III that much, either." He pressed the palm of his hand on the dusty flank of a module, asking himself vaguely if he had left any noticeable traces among them.
Blood, sweat and tears ? - hell no, think urine, sweat, and vomit instead.
"Lifeboats, hmm ? now that was an interesting proposal."
"Sure it was. We planned to refurbish the crew capsule and fly it without the heavy cargo section. A neat thing was that peculiar lifeboat could have brought back as much as twelve astronauts, allowing more men at
Liberty at the same time. Another desirable thing was that the capsules are light enough - 6 tons - to fly either on Delta 7000, Atlas II, or Titan IIS. The more launchers, the least risk of your lifeboat gets stuck on the ground if the booster fails. And since Reagan want more private space companies, it may ultimately provides a springboard for private manned space vehicles someday..."
"Heck, that makes a lot of sense. I like it. I should try to push for it, although my position within the astronaut office is still, rather, hmmm, marginal..."
"Doesn't matter, your help should be welcomed. Although I'm not sure we will ever suceed: soon the shuttle will return, fly two times a week, and makes all our worries moot..."
Gordon shut the lights and together they moved back to his bureau.
"Back to reusing Big Gemini – or not. Back in 1972 my company, Douglas, required Philip Bono to work on their Big Gemini bid. Those were the days after the space shuttle was canned by Caspar Weinberg OMB. Bono had mixed feelings about the whole thing. He had never really liked the space shuttle in the first place (he disliked winged spacecrafts as too heavy), but supported it because it was reusable – better than nothing, particularly with government support and money involved. When the shuttle got canned Douglas hierarchy required Bono to work on Big Gemini. They wanted to explore reusability of the crew module. But Bono disliked capsule, and in the end they gave myself, Owen Gordon, the job instead. Bono is a gentlemen and had no rancor against me. We discuss space matters frequently around some beers. He is a little depressed by the lack of RLVs and his failure to interest our Douglas hierarchy and bosses to ROMBUS and other vehicles."
Story England looked embarassed. "You seem to have a lot of respect for that Bono – Sony ?" he said politely. Then Gordon understood. "Good Lord, you have no clue about who is Philip Bono, don't you ?" Story shaked his head. "Hmm, well, look at this." He picked up a thick book from his desk. It was entitled
Frontiers of space. "You should read this one, but whatever, look at this instead." Astronauts were easy to impress if the right buttons were pushed. Owen handed Story a glossy promotional brochure. "Early in 72' Philip Bono did a short summary of his decade-spanning work on Single Stage To Orbit concepts. After the shuttle cancellation he hoped his company would notice his internal work and pick up the slack, perhaps overturning OMB's decision on the shuttle if a better design was considered. Instead Bono was told to work on Big Gemini, and flatly refused as I told you earlier."
Story England flickered through the brochure. It was crammed with stunningly beautiful hand-paintings of spacecrafts. The overall feeling was more of a comic book than serious aerospace engineering. There were all kind of different vehicles – OOST, ROOST, ROMBUS, Pegasus, Ithacus, SASSTO, Hyperion. Some dropped tanks, others carried a Gemini capsule. Some were smalls, but ROMBUS was truly enormous. They were all egg-shaped, reentering base-first in the atmosphere, with the engine and vehicle protected by cryogenic hydrogen or liquid oxygen cooling tubes.
Story England was stunned by Bono far-reaching visions.
Ithacus was to carry a platoon of fully-armed Marines across the Atlantic within minutes, twenty-time faster than the C-141 cargo jets entering service with the Air Force Military Airlift Command. And then where project Selena and Phobos, where Bono egg-shaped ships were refueled in low Earth orbit and carried on to the Moon or to Mars moons Phobos and Deimos. While SASSTO was certainly overly optimistic, ROMBUS drop tanks made it a viable proposal on technical grounds, although wholefully oversized.
"Now do you understand my respect for Bono ? Of course you may think that ROMBUS is oversized – who needs 1 million pounds of payload into orbit nowadays ? Same things with Bob Truax monster Sea Dragon battleship rocket build at a shipyard and launched from the ocean rather than from The Cape. Same payload to orbit as ROMBUS, one million pounds. But there was another, great spaceship that needed a lot of payload to be thrown in earth orbit. That was Freeman Dyson Orion – you know, the nuclear-pulse ship."
"Project putt-putt" England said. He knew the legend, but tended to laugh out the proposal as either unworkable or a doomsday weapon in beeing –
thousands of small nukes orbiting Earth, my ass. All of sudden however, Gordon made the proposal look much more serious.
"You have to imagine a manned space program at a scale ten times larger than Apollo or NASA - a true atempt at the colonization of the Solar System, starting in 1958 after the Sputnik crisis. Kind of Von Braun 1952 Collier's vision, but on much more realistic technical grounds. Forget the unworkable winged Ferry Rocket: instead, the program would use Sea Dragon for cargo; ROMBUS for the crew; and space battleship Orion puting itself off the ground thanks to a cluster of Titan solid rocket motors, lighting the nuclear pulse drive only high into Earth atmosphere. That would have been one hell of a space program, don't you think ? We might have colonies as far as Saturn moons by now, with thousands of people living all the way from Earth orbit through the Moon and Mars and beyond. That was Freeman Dyson vision back in 1960; ROMBUS and Sea Dragon would have been perfect to loft all that Orion mass – 5000 tons for the smallest designs - out of Earth gravity well."
England was enthralled by that vision, but also by Gordon's way of making it real. So far that little guy remained a mystery to him. There was something inside him that was hard to explain.
Gordon mind was indeed pretty far from Saint Louis and 1979 altogether.
Can't believe these events happened two decades ago. Time's flying fast. I remember it as if it was yesterday.
November 1958.
Driving home from Malton, Ontario, Owen Gordon parks his car on the side of the road, his eyes turned skywards. There's a white contrail streaking very high across the Canadian sky, together with a sound of thunder. The CF-105 Arrow is flying high and fast, at the edge of the world speed record - near Mach 2. With the wrong engines; and ballast in the nose; and only days after the British Lightning, and the French Griffon and Mirage, also broke Mach 2 for the first time. Canada is catching up with countries boasting half of century of experience is aircraft manufacturing; they started a mere decade before.
February 20, 1959.
The dream is over. The government had decided to stop the expense. Sputnik, launched the very day the first Arrow rolled out of Malton, October 4, 1957, means that the nuclear threat switched from bombers to rockets. Since the Arrow can't intercept ballistic missiles, it has to be destroyed. All of it: the machines, the plant, the production line and blueprints.
Everything.
July 1959
A brain drain is happening. The Arrow being bleeding-edge technology, Avro Canada now unemployed highly skilled workers are a bonanza... not for Canada, however. The new American space agency is recruiting engineers for mankind next grand venture:
men into space. As much as he loved his native country, Gordon has to leave. Jim Chamberlin is leading the pack of canadian engineers to Houston, Texas. Coming from Canada, Texas is a hell of a shock. Thanksfully Gordon beloved wife, Carol, has been the best thing ever happened to him in his shattered life. She was the nicest women ever, very loving and comprehensive, taking care of him everyday. Early in their relation he had told her what he had endured during the war; and she just
understood him so well - he considered their relation as truly miraculous.
Twenty years after the Arrow cancellation, Canada was now venturing into space. After the Cosmos 954 disaster the country had taken a leading role in the cleanup of space debris. A major, obvious target was the old Skylab A space station that had no thrusters to control its reentry.
Gordon was still in touch with the Canadian aerospace engineers in exile, such as artillery Czar Gerald Bull. Most of them had worked on both Arrow and Mercury / Gemini before parting ways from 1966.
For years there had been a rumour spreading among the Canadian rocket scientists. A mysterious retired Air Force general with the name of Joseph Bleymaier wanted to shoot a Gemini-B capsule around the Moon using a single Titan Centaur. He knew both because he had worked on the MOL cancelled in 1969. Bleymaier wanted the flight to happen first for the U.S bicentennary, a flight that would be privately funded by ordinary citizens.
As the bicentennary come and gone, Bleymaier set his sight on another symbolic moment: Apollo 11 tenth birthday, July 21 1979. He had recently contacted Gordon because he wanted a couple of Gemini-B that were stored at a remote, classified location. NASA had already used two of the spacecrafts for suborbital flight tests in 1973; three more capsules remained in storage. Gordon was intrigued by the idea and, even if couldn't give Bleymaier what he wanted he nonetheless met him. Bleymaier told him about the Committee For the Future (a bunch of mystical hippies) and their atempt at a privately-funded Apollo mission back in 1973. It made for a fascinating story. Bleymaier had left the CFF and worked a different lunar mission – the lunar Gemini B.