Chapter 52: This Magic Moment - The Soviet-American Mission to the Moon
Despite a transition between Administrations and rising tensions between the nations of the world which seemed to go back on the promises of the Kennedy-Khrushchev detente, the dedicated, hard working engineers, scientists, and military coordinators involved in the Apollo-Svarog Program continued to work diligently on their mission. The shifting sands of 1968, both George Romney’s election to the Presidency and Yuri Andropov’s rise to power in Moscow, had the potential to derail all of the progress made by the teams as forces on both sides of the Iron Curtain began to question any choices made toward friendship and cooperation. In the States, whispers began to rise from the program’s old detractors in the Senate, Scoop Jackson and Barry Goldwater among others, that the whole thing was a sham and needed to be shut down. These critics hoped that the new President would be less stubborn on the issue than President Kennedy had been. Likewise, some in the Politburo questioned whether any outreach toward the Americans could be trusted, especially as Romney ramped up efforts in the War in Cambodia. But Romney and Andropov both insisted on the necessity of the Mission to the Moon. “We are dedicated of course to the preservation of our values,” Romney said in a speech to NASA administrators shortly after taking office. “But not to the point of extremism. It is still the belief of this administration that we can simultaneously disagree with someone and be their friend.” Andropov expressed his sentiments as being something of the same, and so the mission went on ahead.
In the aftermath of the Apollo-Svarog 1 catastrophe, new oversight, orchestrated by former Astronaut and now Junior Senator John Glenn (D - OH) had been put in place by the Kennedy Administration to ensure that remaining tests would go off without a hitch. These included practical measures, such as additional safety and equipment checks, but also more xenophobic ones, like leaving the Soviet scientists out of discussion and planning whenever possible. This hurt President Kennedy deeply, as the whole point of the Mission had been to bring the superpowers closer together, but it was a necessary concession, in the eyes of Senator Glenn and others, worried about Soviets stealing America's secrets to missile technology. Despite this setback, the Soviet team under Yuri Gagarin’s leadership redoubled their efforts in concert with the Americans, under the direction of former Mercury Astronaut Alan Shepard. Over time, the icy relations and distrust between members of the two staffs began to melt and dissolve into warmth, then camaraderie, then friendship, and finally a cautious trust. Neil Armstrong, returning from his unpaid leave after getting into a fight with Cosmonaut Alexei Leonov in the wake of the Apollo-Svarog 1 fire, made up for the incident by sincerely apologizing and taking his Soviet colleague out into the wilderness of the Shenandoah Valley for a fly fishing trip. Leonov told Armstrong that while he was angry that the American hurt him, he understood how emotions could be riding high after losing two of his comrades. The deaths of the Americans and Soviets shocked the world and nearly cost the program its very existence. Armstrong surprised Leonov by putting his hand on Leonov’s shoulder, looking him dead in the eye and saying, “Alexei, I lost four comrades that day.” The two men embraced and agreed to put the mission: reaching out to the stars themselves, ahead of any nationalistic fervor or personal gripes. It was a private moment of closeness amidst a public program barreling toward its triumphant conclusion.
As the summer of 1969 loomed, NASA and their Soviet advisers felt that they had completed enough tests on the equipment necessary for a legitimate shot at landing on the Moon. The Lunar lander, nicknamed
Eagle at the behest of President Romney, who wanted the Soviets to remember exactly whose missile was getting their people up there, had proven its effectiveness in all dry runs. Extra layers of heat protection were added, and the command module was banged out to allow space for four passengers once again: two Astronauts and two Cosmonauts. Knowing that the 11th flight would possibly be the most historic one of all, Shepard and Gagarin scanned their ranks carefully before determining whom they wanted to represent their nations on the first trip to the Moon. Shepard chose Armstrong to captain the Mission, and for him to be joined by Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin. Gagarin had half a mind to go back into space himself, but realized that he would be needed to coordinate with mission control back on the ground in Houston. Instead, he selected (as predicted) Alexei Leonov to lead the Soviet part of the team, and, in a somewhat bold move, selected Valentina Tereshkova to be his second.
Tereshkova had already broken many barriers and was an international feminist icon before being selected to be part of the A-S 11 flight. The first woman in space, she was best known for her kindness and good sense, as well as her hard work and bravery in the heat of a crisis. Eminently qualified for the mission, Tereshkova also earned a bit of subtle prestige for the Soviet Union by showing that they were the first superpower to be egalitarian enough (at least on paper) to allow a woman to take on such an important mission. Joining her fellow explorers for a joint briefing by Shepard and Gagarin, Tereshkova was pleased to learn that after much debate between the two nations, about which members of the crew should stay on board the command module and which should be free to walk the Moon, she was going to be one of the lucky two would get to do an actual moon walk, along with Armstrong. The Americans and Soviets, desperate to save face despite nominally working together, decided that they could not both be the first country to put a man on the moon. They had achieved the act together, a great step forward for international friendship and so forth, as President Kennedy and First Secretary Khrushchev had wanted. But Kennedy and Khrushchev were no longer in power, and the world they hoped to create was being undermined, in small bits, by the new group of leaders who had risen up to replace them. Old competition replaced the need for cooperation, and this reflected on the Moon Mission, with both sides’ politicians getting their hands all over it to decide the “details”. Since America had no female astronauts at the time, and the Soviets had one, it was agreed that America would have the first man on the moon, while the USSR would have the first woman; a fair trade if ever there was one. The next question on the minds of the media was: “Who would step off the ship first?” Eternal bragging rights seemed to be on the line, and neither side’s backers at home seemed keen on letting the other have even the most petty allowance. The solution to this conundrum was decided by the explorers themselves, Buzz Aldrin suggested that it be decided by coin toss once Armstrong and Tereshkova reached the Lunar surface. Both sides agreed to leave history to the fates.
The historic flight of A-S 11 began at 13:32:00 UTC on July 16th, 1969 from the recently renamed John F. Kennedy Space Center in Cape Canaveral, Florida; with the eponymous former President on hand along with Soviet Ambassador Anatoly Dobrynin and sitting President George Romney. Honored to see his pledge of a seeming impossibility coming to fruition in less than a decade, Kennedy was said to have had admiration in his eyes and gripped his wife, Jackie’s hand tightly as the Saturn V rocket carrying the astronauts launched and disappeared into the atmosphere. Jackie later recorded in her diary that she could hear her husband whisper the words:
“Thou, even thou, art Lord alone; thou hast made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, the earth, and all things that are therein, the seas, and all that is therein, and thou preservest them all; and the host of heaven worships thee.” a passage from the Book of Nehemiah.
Approximately four days later, on the 20th of July,
Eagle followed its predetermined flight plan and touched down from the command module in the aptly named Sea of Tranquility on the Moon. Mission Control celebrated what it called “a testament to the boundless potential of human curiosity and engineering.” President Romney and First Secretary Andropov both called from the White House and the Kremlin, respectively, to wish the pair good luck and remind them of the historic nature of their activity. What the world leaders did not reveal were the speeches stowed away in their desks in case something should go wrong and the mission were to fail. The big moment came, after four hours of rest and settling in, for the two explorers to flip the coin and determine who would get to step down the ladder first. Armstrong let Tereshkova pick a side, she called tails. The coin flung into the air, light as a feather and yet heavy with the anticipation of 750 million people watching live coverage of the mission on television. Armstrong caught the coin and gave it a final flip before uncovering his hand. Heads.
Back home the Americans cheered while the Soviets grumbled, but Tereshkova humbly wished Armstrong her congratulations and initiated the procedure to open the hatch of the lander. The man who had once been a little boy from Ohio, obsessed with learning to fly was now becoming the first human being to step on a heavenly body besides Mother Earth. With a hiss of hydraulics and a deep breath, Armstrong cleared the entrance of the lander and made his way down the ladder before placing his right boot on the Moon’s dusty surface and uttering the famous line:
“That’s one small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind.” His Soviet counterpart followed suit shortly thereafter, becoming the first woman on the Moon and uttering words of her own:
“May the drive toward a brighter tomorrow be enshrined in our hearts forever.”
Armstrong and Tereshkova spent a total of two hours, twenty one minutes on the Lunar surface, gathering sediment samples, and leaving behind American and Soviet flags, planted right next to each other in friendship. A final image, of the astronaut and cosmonaut embracing in their space suits was broadcast around the world, a great plea for togetherness in the wake of this monumental achievement for humankind. Though the 1970’s would present more than their share of discord, strife, and conflict, this picture; of President John F. Kennedy’s and First Secretary Nikita Khrushchev’s dream coming to fruition served to add immensely to their legacies and sent the 1960’s off on a joyous, triumphant note.
Photo Credit to Nerdman 3000
Next Time on Blue Skies in Camelot: “When I Get to the Bottom, I Go Back to the Top of the Slide…”
Thank you all!
