NASA invented Duct Tape for sealing potential leaks on the Apollo missions.
Ocean of Storms: A Timeline of A Scientific America
- Thread starter BowOfOrion
- Start date
Well, no, but they did keep a handy supply of it on every single mission.
Dave,
I'll certainly take this under advisement. I haven't made any choices regarding See and Bassett. I know vaguely of them, but I'll need to research a bit on where they might have shaken out in this timeline. If you have or can recommend any primary sources for them, especially ones that include their own words or voice. Cadence and tone can tell me a lot about how to use a person/character in my work.
As always, thanks for reading!
-BowOfOrion
I don't have access to primary sources (I appreciate your diligence that way), but I can recommend the books Fallen Astronauts by Colin Burgess and First Man: The Life of Neil Armstrong by James Hansen. Hansen's references to See are rather short, but important as it gives Armstrong's views on him, after having worked with him extensively in Gemini. There was also an extensive discussion on the CollectSpace.com forums.
The primary point of contention seems to have started with See's status as a civilian. He was hired by NASA from his spot as a test pilot for General Electric (a major manufacturer of jet engines) and although a carrier qualified Naval Reserve Aviator, he was treated with a measure of condescension by the old hands in the astronaut corps, especially Deke Slayton. He didn't quite fit the mold that had been set by the Original Seven, and thus the old hands only grudgingly gave him respect. The crash only seemed to verify their skewed opinions of him. Although I highly regard Deke Slayton, his appalling treatment of See in his memoirs set the stage for much of the negative aspects attributed to him since.
The primary point of contention seems to have started with See's status as a civilian. He was hired by NASA from his spot as a test pilot for General Electric (a major manufacturer of jet engines) and although a carrier qualified Naval Reserve Aviator, he was treated with a measure of condescension by the old hands in the astronaut corps, especially Deke Slayton. He didn't quite fit the mold that had been set by the Original Seven, and thus the old hands only grudgingly gave him respect. The crash only seemed to verify their skewed opinions of him. Although I highly regard Deke Slayton, his appalling treatment of See in his memoirs set the stage for much of the negative aspects attributed to him since.
Just got this pointed out to me, absolutely FANTASTIC timeline! It's very believable and you do an excellent job of bringing the historical figures to life. One question I have - how do you go about deciding the flight assignments? I have to say I was somewhat disappointed to see that you broke up the Dynamic Duo aka the Gruesome Twosome aka Gordon+Conrad.
@DaveJ576 not quite what you're looking for, but I received a free copy of the book Apollo Rising by David R. Oakes and have been slowly stealing a few pages here and there. In the book the See/Bassett crash never happens, however that is because they are replaced by two 'inserted' fictional characters.
@DaveJ576 not quite what you're looking for, but I received a free copy of the book Apollo Rising by David R. Oakes and have been slowly stealing a few pages here and there. In the book the See/Bassett crash never happens, however that is because they are replaced by two 'inserted' fictional characters.
I wish I could tell you that I have some great system for crew assignments based on historical facts or Deke Slayton's coffee breaks or something. Honestly, I kinda just go with a mix of the real assignments, mixed with a bit of randomness. I thought Buzz deserved a CDR slot. I wanted to use Neil in the X-20 for accuracy, and, with the X-20 being a larger program in this TL, I figured, given the choice, Conrad would rather fly a space-fighterplane than a capsule.
Without getting into spoilers, let's just say you haven't heard the last of Neil and Pete. The X-20 boys are getting trained on Apollo hardware.
Oh, and as always, and to everyone, thank you for reading!
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Same here. I know that this idea of mine won't probably happen ITTL, but the idea of those two attempting the first manned landing on Mars cracks me up.
XV: High Fly-By-Wire Act
29 November 1971
Manned Spacecraft Center
Houston, TX
29° 33’ 47” N 95° 05’ 28” W
How far off are we?
It was the question that had been hanging in the air, like a summer humidity that had the indecency to sweep through in late November. It was the most recent in a series of questions that had plagued NASA for the past 4 months.
How long of a delay?
How dangerous will that be?
Are we going to be ready for the crew?
The questions that had defined the autumn of 1971 were not yet finished. The one on the mind of Gerald Griffin right now could be answered with a distance. How far off are we? How far will the infernal machine have to drive to make the rendezvous point?
He glanced at the clock on the wall as it swept through 0334 and suppressed the urge to sigh. Even if he had the answer, he knew that it would only lead to more questions. Each one more troublesome than the last.
What’s the terrain between the new LZ and Alpha? Do we have what we need to plot a course? How long will it take to get there?
And that last, most pestering one:
Are we going to be ready for the crew?
Gerry turned to Glynn Lunney and rubbed his eyes, “Remember all the bitching we had back and forth on 7? All the bullshit about spam in a can and the guys in California saying we can do better with robots? My kingdom for an astronaut.”
Lunney let out a tight smile and nodded, “Yeah. Flyboys are gonna have a field day with this one. They’ll never let us live it down.”
Gerry had a quick reply, “Only if we don’t make the rendezvous. We get to Alpha and this’ll be old news.”
“Roger that.”
Four months ago, representatives from Grumman and the Bendix corporation had informed NASA that the MObile Lunar Excursion Module, or, as the guys in public relations had begged them not to call it: MOLEM, was going to be delayed for two weeks, due to an issue with mating it to the first Cargo LEM.
The delay was unfortunate, but not surprising to anyone who had paid attention to the development of spaceflight hardware for the past decade and a half.
The very concept of a mobile, pressurized lunar laboratory and shelter had been in development since 1966, but no one had really expected it to be called for until the first landing 2 years ago. With the influx of interest and support from the general public, MOLEM was one of the tent poles of Apollo’s second phase.
Even with a layout stripped down to the bare essentials for landing and return, the original Lunar Excursion Modules could only supply two men for three days of surface activity. With the long-term goals of Apollo shifting to longer and more productive stays on the surface, the priority became how to keep astronauts supplied and safe on the surface for extended periods of time.
Astronauts were very demanding. They demanded food, shelter, air, water, a place to sleep, and constant communication with Earth. The scientists who created mission objectives for the surface stays were even more demanding. They insisted that astronauts travel farther, have access to equipment that was sometimes heavy and cumbersome, and that they be able to visit sites that were out of the sightline of the lander.
With these demands at the forefront, Bendix and Grumman had gotten to work on two new spacecraft. The first, the Cargo LEM, was, at its core, a LEM descent stage which could deliver nearly 4000 kilograms of equipment to the lunar surface. The development of Cargo LEM was more complex than simply getting a computer and radio into a descent stage, but not much more complex.
The next priority was to figure out what Cargo LEM would carry to the surface.
Bendix had brought several options to NASA’s attention. A dedicated lab module, known as MOLAB, could be built specifically to maximize internal space and Cargo LEM capacity. It was the Cadillac option. The smooth cylinder of the MOLAB would have been perfect for the task at hand, but also had to be engineered from scratch. After a brief consideration of putting a stripped down command module on wheels, NASA had decided to run with a middle ground option that balanced utility on the surface with an ease in design and production.
MOLEM used the ascent stage of a standard lunar module, which contained life support and consumables for the crew, and put it on wheels. Extra space was created with the loss of the ascent engine and the simplification of the computer systems. Controls were added for steering and speed. Every bit of available internal volume was devoted to water, food and scientific gear for the astronauts. By the time it rolled off the line (literally, as driving tests were the first of its challenges) the MOLEM was capable of supporting 2 astronauts for twelve days and driving them up to 250 miles at a maximum speed of 10 mph.
The first one had been christened the Beagle in honor of the ship that had brought Charles Darwin to the Galapagos Islands.
Originally, the idea for phase 2 had involved launching two manned Saturn V’s for each of the missions. One would deliver supplies to the surface, while a crew of 2 astronauts stayed in the CSM before returning to Earth. Presentations of this plan to non-engineering managers had gone very badly and other studies were commissioned on how best to deploy phase 2 hardware.
In order to land a Cargo LEM, one first had to achieve lunar orbit. The best way to do that was with the SPS on the Service Module. Pairing a stripped-down service module to a Cargo LEM was not sufficient, as neither spacecraft was designed to fly to lunar orbit without a command module. And as long as you had to send a module with the unmanned Cargo LEM, you might as well put it to some use.
Thus was born the Olympus space station.
Calling Olympus a space station was an exercise in vanity. The “station” such as it was, was not much more than a can which interfaced with the service module and the Cargo LEM.
The plans for the space stations of the 1980’s called for many cans like this to be joined together, each with a specific purpose, working together to provide an orbiting space laboratory. Orbiting over Earth, that is.
Olympus could support up to two astronauts for up to 3 months, which was the longest conceivable surface duration which was being explored. The can was equipped with a pair of solar panels and was approximately twice the size of an Apollo CSM. What it had in volume, it lacked in propulsion, navigation, and computing power. Olympus was little more than a habitat module with a few scientific platforms on board for long-duration orbiting experiments.
The idea would be to test the “cans” system of space station design in lunar orbit, using the CMP astronaut as a caretaker, since, on the longer flights of phase 2, he would have little to do in orbit that had not been done already.
A single launch to provide a mobile surface laboratory, an orbiting lunar space station and a platform to test hardware and procedures for Earth-orbiting space stations to be built in the near future.
It was a bold and audacious plan, born of the hubris that had brought NASA’s previous successes- at the cost of billions of dollars and several human lives.
Still, there was little doubt, both within the agency and amongst those of the general public who took an interest, that astronauts Grissom, White, and Chafee would approve of such a grand strategy to complete mankind’s first lunar explorations.
All of that was fine for newspapers and nightly news, but great plans are always accompanied by great challenges, and the flight of Olympus I was no exception.
The wacky triumvirate of spacecraft were stacked and loaded upside down onto a Saturn V. The aerodynamic fairing concealed a kludge of a stack which featured the SPS engine bell pointed straight up. The absurd configuration would save the trouble of an autonomous docking after the third stage’s TLI burn.
After Olympus and her Cargo LEM swung around the far side of the Moon, only a single firing of the SPS would be left to set her orbit. At which point the SPS would be out of fuel and Olympus would never change her orbital characteristics again. Fortunately, the plan was to settle her into one of the "frozen orbits," specifically the one at 27 degrees inclination.
After Olympus had established her orbit, all that was left would be the undocking, descent, and landing of the new, untested Cargo LEM, which would have to delicately land 4000 kilograms worth of payload without the benefit of an astronaut at the controls.
Military commanders are fond of the maxim that no plan survives contact with the enemy. Gerald Griffin was considering a modification of the maxim to “No autonomous flight survives contact with reality.”
Shortly after the TLI burn, the Beagle-Olympus stack had begun to drift. In a normal flight, the astronauts on board would have sensed the drift and would have seen the 8-balls slowly turning on their control panel. But the stack had no one on board to see what was happening.
While Houston could monitor the stack with a great deal of focus on its internal health, the inertial guidance of the stack was not as tightly controlled. For the majority of the lifespan of the stack’s components, navigation and propulsion systems would be passive or off-line. Therefore, lower priority was placed on their initial design.
A warning was built into the system when the gimbals approached 70 degrees of alignment. At 85 degrees, the IMU would lock the gimbals to prevent total alignment.
It took only a matter of minutes for the system to move from the 70 degree warning to the 85 degree freeze. There hadn’t been sufficient time to calculate a corrective burn and uplink it to the stripped-down AGC on board.
If all three gimbals slipped into alignment with one another, independent motion of any of them would be impossible. The lock at 85 degrees was designed to prevent total disaster, but triggering the lock meant that the entire platform would need to be realigned.
Realigning the AGC platform was a tedious and time-consuming process even with an astronaut on-board the spacecraft. It involved using a sextant and taking starfield readings. For the men of the guidance station in the MOCR trench, it would require a Herculean effort of calculation.
Armed only with the spacecraft's telemetry and photos that could be transmitted from the Olympus module’s external docking cameras, the Guidance team started to align the platform. It took more than a day, consulting with astronomers and personnel from the contractors who manufactured both vessels.
The delay from the realignment meant that the flight plan’s schedule had slipped badly. Adjustments would have to be made to the burn parameters on both the course correction burn and the lunar orbit insertion burn. This was a further strain on the already taxed brainpower of the trench.
In a saga of star charts and slide rules, the Guidance station of the Mission Operations Control Room performed above and beyond the call of duty. But their best work still had led to an unfortunate adjustment to the mission schedule that put the separation of the Cargo LEM from Olympus on the 3rd lunar orbit, rather than the 2nd. As a result, the projected landing site for the Cargo LEM, known as LZ Alpha, had to be discarded in favor of a tertiary site.
The Cargo LEM had landed using its automated program. It was safe on the ground, but the boys in the trench were still working on exactly where it had come down.
Which brought Gerald Griffin back to the question of the day. How far off are we? How many kilometers would the Beagle have to drive, over terrain that was rugged and more challenging than anything seen on the first 4 landings? The region known as Marius Hills was selected for its geological interest, not for being an “easy” site. The volcanic domes and boulders were set to provide many interesting facts about lunar history, but for right now, they were obstacles in Beagle’s path to meet the crew of Apollo 16.
Apollo 16, crewed by Scott Keller and Jack Swigert and commanded by the steady-handed John Young, would be launching just after Christmas. At least that was the plan. While Keller and Young would make a wide (and deep) exploration of the surface, Jack Swigert would rendezvous with the Olympus module and, over the course of a 2-week stay, prepare the station for a longer mission by a 2-man crew on a later flight.
It was a dynamite plan, on paper. But the numbers on the paper all depended on Young and Keller being able to meet the Beagle on the lunar surface at a nice little flat spot that had long ago been designated in the mission planning phase. The target for Young and Keller, the secondary landing zone, was imaginatively designated LZ Bravo. The intended landing zone for Beagle, LZ Alpha, was approximately half a mile away. The distance being necessary to avoid damage to either spacecraft with the arrival of the LEM.
The Cargo LEM had put down yesterday afternoon, Houston time, on an automated program. The descent program had been written to automatically adjust the landing point if radar had detected a problem with the LPD from 1000 ft altitude. The 3-second delay from Earth to Moon meant that it was more hazardous to the spacecraft to have ground commands interfering with the landing from that point on.
One thousand feet above the lunar surface, the radar had confirmed an object at the projected landing point and had begun a rotation of 34 degrees. The computer searched (as frantically as a computer might) for a circular zone of 100 feet in radius that radar did not detect an obstruction larger than 1 meter high within.
With 85 seconds of remaining fuel, the Cargo LEM had found a suitable site and issued a 10 degree right turn to land there. For the next 70 seconds, mission control was powerless to aid the unmanned ship. The final confirmation of touchdown came not from CAPCOM, but from TELMU, who gave the simple, “Contact light. Engine arm off. Safe. Chassis fault indicator negative. Flight, TELMU, the Beagle has landed.”
After a long moment of exultation and back-slapping congratulations, the work began of analyzing the final descent to determine where Beagle had set down. Almost 12 hours later, the work had nearly finished.
“Flight, Guidance.”
“Go, Guidance,” the room held its collective breath.
“Flight, we have the position now. We calculate 23 miles to LZ Bravo.”
“Copy, confirm 23?”
“Technically 23 and about a quarter, direct line, flight.”
“Copy understand. Does local terrain provide a good path from Beagle to LZ Alpha?”
This was Griffin’s attempt to generate a bit of optimism. In truth, without seeing it on the ground, it would be difficult to know whether the terrain was suitable for driving a 12 foot tall buggy… without an actual driver at the controls… on a 3-second delay… from a quarter of a million miles away.
“Roger, Flight. We’re consulting with geology, but at the moment, we’ve plotted an initial course that appears to be clean. We project the path through the day 2 stop by the 16 flight plan. Total path distance to Bravo is 27 miles.”
“And geology is happy with the plot?”
One of the geologists who had joined the Guidance team in the trench stood up and turned towards the back of the room. He had the semi-delighted look of a man who loved what he was doing and was good at it, despite the challenges. Someone had given him a headset and he seemed excited to be issuing his first call on the loop, “Flight, Geology. We have confidence in the plotted course from the orbital photography on 15. We don’t expect any showstoppers from here to Alpha.”
Griffin issued a simple, “Copy that,” and nodded at the man, who sat back down. He continued, turning towards the second row, “Control, Telmu, are you happy with what you’re seeing on getting Beagle unloaded?”
The Control station came on without looking up, “Affirmative, Flight. We are go for dismount and traverse.”
Griffin’s smile was returning. “Guido-Geology,” he said, amused at the fusion of the two groups for this little road trip. “What’s your projected time of traverse to Alpha, assuming all standard protocols?”
Those protocols were critical. The original plan was for Beagle to be unpacked on the first EVA and only driven by the astronauts. After Young and Keller departed, Beagle was to be remotely driven and observations made from its cameras, but that was a bonus program, to be done only after the astronauts were safely back in orbit. Still, the driving protocols had been written with the understanding that the current situation was possible. The protocols could be condensed down to, “Go slow. Look where you’re going. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“We’re still running the numbers, Flight. Early projections put us at around 200 hours.”
Griffin nodded and rubbed his head, “Roger.”
A beat passed as everyone did the math in their heads. The lunar day was approximately 28 days on Earth. Meaning that for every 28 days, a single spot, such as Beagle’s current position, would have 14 days of daylight, followed by 14 days of darkness. Daylight was a commodity on the Moon. Young and Keller would have to land in daylight. Their explorations would have to be done in daylight. Their launch off the surface was scheduled near lunar sunset to maximize that exploration time.
Navigating Beagle over the surface would require daylight.
Griffin let the silence hang over the room for a moment, then knocked on the top of his console to get every eye on him. “Okay, people! We have 2 weeks to drive to Bravo. We’re going to need every last bit of them. Take 5 minutes, get some coffee, whatever you need. We’re going to dismount Beagle from the LEM and have it ready for White Team to start the traverse in 5 hours. I hope you’ve all finished your Christmas shopping, because we’re going to be very busy for the next 2 weeks. We’re going on a road trip. Get packed.”
The grins of engineers in their element met his display of geek bravado. The men of the MOCR knew what was about to happen. They were ready.
Griffin turned to his assistant flight director and put his hand over his headset mike, “Tell John that we’ll have to put a few miles on the odometer, but Beagle will be waiting for him at Alpha next month.”
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Apologies for the delay on this post. We wanted to get the art right and I flipped the script on nixonshead after he'd already done some fantastic work. I want to thank everyone who has commented and written to me. Please keep that going. Nothing is more encouraging than feedback!
Very nice update. If you don't mind me asking a pair of questions in regards to the 'Olympus station', would this be correct in that basically over every cargo launch would see one of the 'Olympus stations' put into lunar orbit? And if presuming they are launched for every flight, would they pretty much be having the same set of limited scientific equipment, or would there be considerations for a varied scientific equipment load out (for what can actually fit in the load parameters)?
Good question, actually. It almost reads to me like they want to be ambitious and try to create an experimental modular station?
Fantastic update, @BowOfOrion . I can't believe I didn't put 2 and 2 together when I was on Nixonshead's Deviantart the other day.
MOLEM is an interesting choice to move forward with. Especially without the rest of the AAP architecture (the LEM Shelter + LEM Taxi) to support it. Does that mean they'll be living entirely in the MOLEM for the 12 days? Will they have to stay within walking distance to the LEM, same as the LRV? I never understood the "hockey puck" MOLAB design; was it just a matter of fitting as much as they could into the circular cross section of the SLA?
While I'm thinking about it, is there a chance we'll see Early Lunar Shelter? While I could see it being useful, I also feel it might be a bit superfluous since the capability seems to be matched by the MOLEM, which also has wheels...
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Usili and CobaltWolf,
Good questions all around. Apollos 17-20 are still being planned at this point. I'm figuring out how best to use the Olympus architecture (either through modular additions or by some other means). As I figure those things out, you'll see them in the chapters.
For now, 16 is going to stay in the MOLEM while on the surface, but it won't be afraid to travel away from the LEM. Stay tuned, we're going to have some fun.
The NASA of OoS is going to be a bit bolder than the one we've all grown up with. My style on this timeline is (I hope) akin to the "Heightened Reality" used by Christopher Nolan's Batman films. The things that will happen won't necessarily be the most likely events, but they will not be out of the realm of possibility either. Before I write a scene I ask myself these questions: Could we have done this? Is it something I want to read about? What problem has to be solved?
Having said that, I have no plans for anything non-terrestrial to be a factor (there won't be UFO's or a monolith to uncover in Tycho crater). But I wanted to use this timeline to tell interesting stories about potential missions and unexplored options. If you want the most realistic alternate history, I don't think I could compete with Eyes Turned Skyward or Right Side Up. I have enormous respect for those TL's, but I could never match them in terms of accuracy or technical detail.
Good questions all around. Apollos 17-20 are still being planned at this point. I'm figuring out how best to use the Olympus architecture (either through modular additions or by some other means). As I figure those things out, you'll see them in the chapters.
For now, 16 is going to stay in the MOLEM while on the surface, but it won't be afraid to travel away from the LEM. Stay tuned, we're going to have some fun.
The NASA of OoS is going to be a bit bolder than the one we've all grown up with. My style on this timeline is (I hope) akin to the "Heightened Reality" used by Christopher Nolan's Batman films. The things that will happen won't necessarily be the most likely events, but they will not be out of the realm of possibility either. Before I write a scene I ask myself these questions: Could we have done this? Is it something I want to read about? What problem has to be solved?
Having said that, I have no plans for anything non-terrestrial to be a factor (there won't be UFO's or a monolith to uncover in Tycho crater). But I wanted to use this timeline to tell interesting stories about potential missions and unexplored options. If you want the most realistic alternate history, I don't think I could compete with Eyes Turned Skyward or Right Side Up. I have enormous respect for those TL's, but I could never match them in terms of accuracy or technical detail.
BowofOrion, I have a question: You flipped the destinations for Apollos 11 and 12. Historically, Oceanus Procellarum came second because the technical challenge of precision targeting Surveyor 3 was considered harder than the Mare Tranquillitatis landing site (which had no such precision requirement). What was the justification for this switch?
Great question! There's the in-timeline reason for this, and my reason as a writer. I'll cover both here.
I wanted to move the first landing to November because that was when the color camera was available for surface stays (part of the spark of interest in the American public is seeing live color television from the Moon - yes I'm aware that only about 55% of households had color TV at that time, but I deal with that (a bit) in chapter VII).
The landing site in November was Ocean of Storms which, I believe, worked because of the angle of the sunlight on Oceanus Procellarum during those dates. Mare Tranquilitatis was a safer landing site (or so it was originally thought) but I felt like NASA might want to address a slip in the mission planning schedule (caused by Apollo 9) by flipping the landing areas. It's flimsy, I admit, but clearly the capability wasn't too far afield for an early landing. In this timeline, Apollo 11 would have been considered a success even if it had landed too far downrange to rendezvous with Surveyor.
Thanks for the question. Hope that works!
I am loving this timeline, and anxious for more. I didn't see anyone else comment on Kirk having a five year run instead of a 3 year one. IIRC, it was in "Tomorrow is Yesterday," season one, when Uhura thought that the first moon landing was in the '70's. Looks like they need to retcon that scene
Someone smarter than me once said, "History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme."
'Heightened reality', a good way of putting it. Another way to I'm more fond of - 'optimistic'.
And, of course, I think most of us are alright with this just being a space timeline and not uncovering the mysteries of the universe. Personally I am happy to finally have a good timeline that saves Apollo and keeps it going. I understand that there were a lot of forces IRL that caused the program to end when it did, but you seem to have tipped the scales here in a believable way. There's a lot of stuff to mine from all the IRL proposals. One book that was tremendously helpful to me was Apollo: The Lost and Forgotten Missions by David Shayler.It has occurred to me that I've made a terrible mistake in the course of writing this timeline.
In my conversations regarding the planning of this timeline, I've always gratefully acknowledged the sources created by David Portree at his Spaceflight History Blog. David's research of unflown NASA missions has been both impeccable and invaluable in my writing. I have acknowledged this in my private communications with David, but I recently realized I had not publicly made this as clear as I'd wished to. David's work was especially useful in researching the details that went into the flights of Apollo 14 and Apollo 15.
Additionally, this work would not have been possible without the excellent articles by Paul Drye in his False Steps Blog. His articles on the MOLEM concepts were vital to the latest entry in this timeline.
I also had the honor and privilege of speaking with Sy Liebergot during my initial planning of this timeline. He spoke with me via Skype for nearly 2 hours and his insights and stories were the highlight of my 2017. I would encourage all of you to read his book. The details therein helped me greatly in writing the saga of Apollo 13.
While I have acknowledged all of these sources in various places throughout my postings on this forum, I wanted to be very clear in my acknowledgment of them before going any further. Please understand that my error was one of negligence, not malice. I apologize to these men and to my readers for any offense this may have caused. I will try to be more direct in citing source materials in further posts.
In my conversations regarding the planning of this timeline, I've always gratefully acknowledged the sources created by David Portree at his Spaceflight History Blog. David's research of unflown NASA missions has been both impeccable and invaluable in my writing. I have acknowledged this in my private communications with David, but I recently realized I had not publicly made this as clear as I'd wished to. David's work was especially useful in researching the details that went into the flights of Apollo 14 and Apollo 15.
Additionally, this work would not have been possible without the excellent articles by Paul Drye in his False Steps Blog. His articles on the MOLEM concepts were vital to the latest entry in this timeline.
I also had the honor and privilege of speaking with Sy Liebergot during my initial planning of this timeline. He spoke with me via Skype for nearly 2 hours and his insights and stories were the highlight of my 2017. I would encourage all of you to read his book. The details therein helped me greatly in writing the saga of Apollo 13.
While I have acknowledged all of these sources in various places throughout my postings on this forum, I wanted to be very clear in my acknowledgment of them before going any further. Please understand that my error was one of negligence, not malice. I apologize to these men and to my readers for any offense this may have caused. I will try to be more direct in citing source materials in further posts.