Post 1: A Fall of Moondust
“My footprints join those of Neil Armstrong, and the other brave explorers of Earth. Like them, for all the people of the Soviet Union and all the world, we come in peace for all mankind.”
- Cosmonaut Alexei Leonov, Zvezda 4
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For many years afterwards, there was speculation that Alexei Leonov’s first words on the Moon were not those originally scripted for him in Moscow. The sentiments expressed seemed at odds with the wider mood of triumphalism that characterised Soviet coverage of the mission, and the lines were not widely repeated in official reporting, at least until the era of Glasnost brought in greater freedom of the press. Still, no definitive evidence has come to light, one way or the other.
Whether those first words were as intended or not, the actions of the mission spoke louder. Eight years after the US had left the Moon, Soviet cosmonauts were seen walking upon its surface, in colour, on the televisions of the world. Those pictures showed the impressive scale of the Soviet achievement, with the spacesuited cosmonauts dwarfed next to their Zvezda spacecraft, which was visibly larger and more impressive than the sixties-era lunar modules.
On their first moonwalk, Leonov and Popovich spent more than two hours on the surface. Their first priority was, of course, setting up the Soviet flag and ensuring that Moscow got all the photographs they wanted of the pair on the surface. This was followed by a five minute telephone conversation with Brezhnev. Despite his failing health, the General Secretary sounded up-beat and enthusiastic as he congratulated the cosmonauts on their achievements on behalf of the workers of the world. Following this political theatre, the cosmonauts spent a further hour gathering samples and setting up a few simple, remotely operated geological experiments, as a safeguard should they have to leave the moon in a hurry. This done, they re-entered the capsule, brushing down each other’s suits on the outside porch, before re-entering the Cocooned Habitation Block. The module was then repressurised, after which Voronov exited the Return Capsule to help his comrades out of their moon suits. As they secured the suits and made preparations for their first ‘night’ on the moon, all three noted the “gunpowder smell” of moon dust that had first been reported by the Apollo astronauts.
The next few days followed a regular pattern, with moonwalks by two of the cosmonauts while the third remained in the capsule. On the second day it was Leonov and Voronov who ventured outside, on a moonwalk lasting over four hours that completed the set up of remote experiments and explored out to a few hundred metres from the landing zone. Day three saw Leonov and Popovich deploy the Soviet “moon-mobile” and take it for a test drive. Following the time-honoured Soviet engineering tradition of “the Americans aren’t dumber; do it like they do!”, the vehicle was an almost direct copy of the Apollo rover, and performed just as well. Television footage of the two cosmonauts bouncing across the lunar landscape made news headlines around the world, and extended the range of exploration for the mission. After six hours outside, Leonov and Popovich returned to Zvezda 4 tired, but cheerful. It was the tiredness that Leonov assumed was to blame for the soreness of his eyes, and Voronov’s occasional sneezing was nothing worth bothering the mother-hen doctors back in Moscow about.
Five days into their planned two week mission, it was becoming obvious that there was a problem. All three cosmonauts were complaining of some combination of sore eyes and throats, pain in the sinuses, and headaches. Despite watering eyes, the cause was plain to see, as a film of dark, powdered moon dust seemed to coat every surface of the Cocooned Habitation Block’s interior. Even the inside of the Return Capsule, which was kept pressurised and sealed during moon walks, was becoming dirty with moondust. Early designs for the GB2 lander had included an external airlock where the cosmonauts could have donned and doffed their moon suits separated from their living quarters, but this had been eliminated to keep the lander within its mass budget. Clearly, the air filters of the life support system and the decontamination protocols they were following were not enough to maintain a healthy environment. Perhaps even more worrying than the medical symptoms was evidence of scratches on some of the windows and metal surfaces of the ship’s interior. Though minor, and nowhere near serious enough to pose risk of a hull breach, it did raise concerns over what the dust might be doing to the seals and mechanisms on the various hatches of the ship.
For day six of the mission, the cosmonauts were ordered to remain inside and perform a vigorous spring-cleaning of the ship. The Krechet moon-suits were curtained off as best as possible, while the crew wiped down all surfaces using cloths dampened with a mild mixture of water and cleaning alcohol. They also swapped out all the air filters in the ship. Both cloths and filters were left black with dust, and were sealed up in sample bags to stop them re-contaminating the ship. These efforts appeared to have paid off, with the interior looking much brighter than before, but by the next morning surfaces were beginning to lose their shine again, as ultra-fine dust suspended in the low gravity pressurised environment of the habitat started to settle once more. Additionally, while Leonov and Popovich’s symptoms had not gotten any worse, Voronov was starting to run a temperature in what looked like a mild allergic reaction. Leonov informed Moscow that they would not be able to complete their fourteen days on the moon, and called for an abort. Reluctantly, Mishin, Semenov and their TsUP control team agreed.
On day eight, 10th September 1981, Leonov and Popovich made a final, brief moonwalk to make sure all emplaced experiments were safe and to collect a few final, high priority samples. Use of the rover was ruled out, due to concerns over the huge “rooster tails” of dust the vehicle threw up, and so only samples close to the ship were collected. After just eighty minutes outside, the pair returned to Zvezda and sealed up the ship for the last time. Four hours later the Propulsion Block’s RD-510 engine lit and Zvezda 4 blasted away from its Landing Stage, ascending into the black sky above.
For the next three days, the crew spent as much time as possible in the Return Capsule, isolating themselves from the dustier environment of the Habitation Block. This was largely successful in preventing their symptoms from worsening, and Voronov’s temperature dropped to only slightly above normal on the first day of their return cruise. Nevertheless, the crew were prevented from making the sort of regular “Cosmovision” broadcasts and radio interviews that had marked their outward journey, and this difference was noted in the West.
Officially, of course, the mission had been a complete success, and had always been intended to last just one week on this first attempt. The Soviets, after all, were not as reckless as the Americans, who were even now planning to put men on the first flight of their experimental space shuttle! This line was generally accepted by the Western media, and in any case the seven days Zvezda 4 had spent on the surface had smashed Apollo 17’s previous record of just over three days - even more so if you counted in person-days, considering Zvezda’s larger crew. There were a few Apollo veterans, however, who read the reports and stroked their chins, wondering…
On Sunday 13th September 1981, at an altitude of 750km, explosive bolts split the hull of Zvezda 4’s Habitation Block, releasing the Return Capsule with its cargo of men and moonrocks. Minutes later, the capsule entered the upper reaches of the atmosphere. Temperature and g-forces rose steadily… then slackened, as Zvazda 4 skipped off the thickening atmosphere and re-entered space, cooling once more as it arced over the north pole, before diving again into the air of Earth. This time the module stayed the course, a shooting star moving north to south as it transmuted speed into heat.
At 10km above the ground, with its speed reduced to 220m/s, the capsule received a sharp jolt as the drogue parachute released and inflated, quickly followed by the three main chutes. For fifteen minutes, the charred pod drifted downwards towards the barren steppes of Kazakhstan. Finally, just metres from impact, the parachutes were cut and solid rockets ignited, dropping the spaceship to the ground in a halo of flames.
For twenty minutes, nothing moved around the blackened capsule. Then, a black speck appeared in the sky: a Mi-8 helicopter of the Soviet air force. Spotting the capsule, its pilot put the aircraft down a dozen metres from the ship. Even before it touched the ground, recovery crew members jumped down from the helicopter and raced to the capsule. As two of the men got to work on the ship’s side hatch, a third rubbed away soot from one of the windows and peered in through the triple-paned glass.
Inside the Zvezda 4 capsule, three cosmonauts grinned and waved at the recovery team. The first Soviets to walk upon the moon had returned.