Hi all, today we're exploring a side of the shuttle that is essential in understanding why it has its place in history. As you may have guessed, lots of internal safety culture stuff has been building in the Air Force, and now, it's come to a head.
I want to preface this chapter that it is heavy, and is a little bit upsetting, so do proceed with caution. This is not a fun or happy story to tell, but it is an important one. That being said, let's explore the world of Proxima once more.
PS: there will be an image annex done by the amazing
Zarbon going up a little later this week, and I'm very excited to show you what we have in store.
Chapter 10: Return to Launch Site
The year 1987 promised many things for both the Air Force’s space program, and NASA’s own Human Spaceflight program. NASA’s Olympus program was progressing mostly on schedule, with the first wave of support spacecraft sent from both sides of the Iron Curtain already returning valuable data about candidate landing sites, local environmental conditions, and more. In conjunction with work on the Martian surface, two probes would soon be dispatched via Titan IIIE to the moon, to begin a higher fidelity survey of our nearest neighbor. These
Lunar Dual Surface Mappers would work in tandem to identify ideal points of interest for further study, as the success of the
Mars Dual Surface Mapper proved the efficacy of mapping a planetary body. There was discussion as to why the first flights of the Olympus program themselves could not potentially take place near the Moon, rather than in LEO as planned, and to those at NASA, it was a repeat of lessons they had learned during Apollo. By performing an “all-up” test close to home, like Apollo 9, the systems could be checked with an easy return time, before the crew would have to commit to a voyage to the Red Planet. Plus, the addition of the Base Station and other successful, independent tests had calmed the worries of many engineers both within NASA and their partner agencies. Members of Congress, impressed with NASA’s dedication to crew safety, allocated additional funds to potentially allow for a landing attempt on the moon with Olympus hardware, completing the entirety of the all up test. This option, ultimately, was not chosen as the lander program encountered difficulties with first stage performance, and required a minor redesign. In support of low Earth orbit operations, work on the Liberté crew rescue vehicle was drawing to a close, and NASA felt confident that the crew of the Odyssey Orbital Laboratory could soon be expanded to a full time 6 person crew to aid in construction of the MTV, components of which were already undergoing fit checks in their respective launch vehicles. Tooling was largely finished on the updated tanks for the SDLV, and soon, fit checks would begin at the upgraded LC-39A facility in preparation for their first flight.
The Air Force, impressed with the performance that their Aft Cargo Carrier modification had brought to the program, had now formally elected to make the change standard for launches of their Space Shuttle,
Valiant.
Valiant had proven to be an efficient machine for the Air Force, free from the safety rigors and downtime of NASA’s orbiter program. Unfazed by the close calls on OF-16, their manifest only expanded, with payloads being readied 10 flights in advance. On February 21st, 1987,
Valiant began its final countdown sequence on SLC-6 at Vandenberg Air Force Base, with six crew members onboard to oversee the deployment of a large satellite, rumored to be a Lacrosse; a new type of reconnaissance sat that could evade detection through advanced stealth technology, and a small experimental maneuvering vehicle in the Aft Cargo Carrier. At 10:21:36am, Pacific time,
Valiant and her crew lifted off for OF-19, pitching south to take the crew on a trajectory that would take them into the required polar orbit. At 10:22:21, the central SSME, reflown from the previous mission in late December and subject to a less intense inspection, shut down. A moment later, a secondary notice indicating potential loss of thrust in the Left SSME cropped up, only further baffling the crew. Alarms triggered in the cabin, and the pilot, commander and ground teams at Vandenberg made the call to initiate an RTLS abort, untried so far in the history of shuttle flights. As CAPCOM called out the command, there was a fleeting moment in which the fear of the maneuver they were about to undertake overwhelmed the Commander, evidenced only by a pause.
"Valiant, Edwards, you are to proceed to Return to Launch Site, NO/GO for Transpacific Abort."
"Five-By, Edwards... RTLS abort confirmed, NO/GO for TPA"
"Godspeed."
Valiant rattled under the G loading, and the solids burning out and jettisoning brought some momentary relief to the crew. Now, the really tricky part. The vehicle began its pitch around maneuver, and the crew soon found themselves facing the direction they had launched from. Coming out of the roll, the coast of California lay out in front of them and fainter still, Vandenberg could be made out in the heads up display. The 2 remaining SSMEs, canceling out the velocity of the solid rocket motors, would soon exhaust the fuel in the External Tank. The vehicle pitched down to 40º, and the crew prepared to separate the now spent tank from the Orbiter. The pilot pulled the vehicle up and free from the external tank, but, in the tension inside the cabin, did not account for the Aft Cargo Carrier. The rear of the vehicle recontacted the tank, scraping the aft heat shield and damaging the body flap, both crucial for entry and landing. The vehicle rolled slightly, and the crew attempted to correct as much as possible with the reaction control system. Ionized plasma began to build around the vehicle as they assumed the correct attitude for entry. For observers on the ground, it soon became apparent what would happen next - but in the cabin, the crew continued to work through their procedures, unaware of the extent of damage to their vehicle. First optics from the spotter aircraft led the head of guidance at Edwards to deliver one of the most famous remarks in the history of the accident: “Jesus, Flight, the vehicle’s burning..”
Valiant began to descend through the quickly thickening atmosphere, and it soon became apparent to the crew that they would be unable to meet the landing site at Vandenberg. The descent was steep and brutal, and they were losing crossrange velocity faster than anticipated. The vehicle, leaking various fluids, was now experiencing intense heating, and exposed bits of the airframe were straining to stay intact as the thicker atmosphere buffeted the crew. The choice was made by the crew to try and level the orbiter out, with the intention to bail out once they had passed through the area of maximum heating. However, the vehicle would not remain intact long enough to prepare to abandon ship. Damage to the heat shield, caused by the impact with the Aft Cargo Carrier, resulted in ionized plasma entering the airframe, straining the components of the vehicle as it bore the brunt of a steep re-entry. The body flap and engine section would be the first components to detach from the vehicle, and soon, the whole spacecraft began to tumble. The RCS did what it could to hold the orbiter stable for a fleeting moment, but atmospheric forces would soon take hold. The starboard wing would separate next, only furthering the tumble, and causing the crew cabin to separate, torn to shreds by the aerodynamic forces. To those watching the launch, it was a moment of existential dread. The vehicle, originally one point of light on tracking cameras, was now several, falling in a slow arc towards the Pacific ocean. Debris from the external tank and orbiter filled the thermal imaging cameras as airmen looked for any sign that the crew might have somehow, possibly survived. Booster recovery ships, similar in function to NASA’s SRB ships, reported pieces of the vehicle falling all around them, and the call was made at Edwards to lock the doors.
The recovery was arduous. Every available aircraft that could be immediately scrambled after the accident was soon airborne, and military vessels out of the Los Angeles region soon joined to search for any sign that the crew had somehow survived. In the back of the recovery team’s minds, they knew that this kind of accident would be a death sentence, especially during an RTLS. As much as they could hope that some sort of miracle had occurred, they had watched the vehicle break apart. The signs would soon become crystal clear to them, as the first piece of the crew cabin was identified. Hoisting the panel onto a recovery boat, a photographer would snap a picture which would define the story of the Air Force’s shuttle - The shuttle’s name, positioned on the nose below the flight deck windows, was scorched and waterlogged, a grim reminder of what had become of her crew.
Valiant lay before them, bobbing in the waves and slowly sinking to the depths of the Pacific; once a vision of the future was nothing more than tangled metal and thermal blankets. The first human remains were recovered by ship before the end of the day, and were brought back to Vandenberg for identification. As the days went on, more and more pieces of the good ship would be pulled from the sea and stored in a hangar, beginning a painstaking post mortem on the vehicle.
NASA immediately grounded their shuttle fleet and began to work with the Air Force to determine the cause of the accident, inciting an international panic from the Olympus partners. NASA’s public relations team would quickly stress that the delay to Olympus would not be long, provided the Air Force cooperated on the assessment of the incident.
Challenger, which had been preparing to launch to Odyssey, was immediately rolled back to the VAB, and a crew from Houston boarded a Gulfstream headed for California. A malignant sense of unease hung around the agency, and for some, it felt like the end of human spaceflight was nigh. For the first time since the Olympus program began, there was a pause - lingering in the air like the orbiters themselves were holding their breath. Crowds that had flocked to see
Challenger depart for the Station returned home confused and dismayed. The investigation began in earnest on February 24, with NASA, Rockwell and Air Force officials commandeering an office to act as a nerve center. Hundreds of hours of footage from tracking cameras was pulled together for review, and comparison to previous launches of
Valiant as well as NASA’s shuttle fleet began to piece together an accurate picture of what had gone wrong.
NASA personnel were quick to point out the footage of the orbiter contacting the tank, which would have been negated in the event of RTLS without the ACC modification and proper training. The latter accusation stunned Air Force officials, who insisted that their crews had been trained to operate the vehicle in the ways both Rockwell and NASA had recommended. The focus of the investigation then turned to the actions of the pilot, and highlights the ways in which Air Force personnel were told that an RTLS abort mode was unlikely, and their training in the T-38 and Shuttle Sim aircraft was inadequate, as it did not cover the maneuvers required to pull the vehicle away from the external tank prior to entry. This failure to train properly would ultimately prove to be the most damning factor, and the lax safety culture within the Air Force's astronaut core was now on display. Congress was immediately curious about the engine shutdown, and whether or not it would impact the ongoing Olympus program, as well as regular shuttle flights. NASA and its engineering partners re-iterated that the Shuttle system was safe, and that work using derived vehicles could continue. Rockwell and Rocketdyne were brought in to testify, and the findings quickly showed that less intense inspections between flights, as well as the internal culture of the 77th, aimed for faster rotations of
Valiant to ensure more operational payloads could be launched on the Shuttle, rather than conventional launch vehicles. The engine shutdown had been due to failure to maintain the often fickle SSMEs, and the fault was traced to a leaky coolant pipe, which forced a shutdown of the engine. The vehicle was, other than that, in perfect condition to perform an RTLS abort. Footage sent to NASA’s Ames research center provided further context of the RTLS sequence, and the recovery of the orbiter’s black box showed a high g load and shift in the center of mass towards the end of when the orbiter was intact. It was soon determined that the payload, damaged by the collision with the external tank, came loose and offset the center of mass in the vehicle, exacerbating the breakup.
NASA’s grounding of shuttle flights lasted six months while new operational procedures were put into place, including a revision to the crew escape suits and improvements to engine inspection.
Challenger launched in late August for the Return to Flight, conducting proximity operations at the Soviet space station
Zarya, which had been outfitted with 2 TKS-derived laboratory modules named
Spektr and
Kvant.
Kvant would debut the “power tower” section of the station, designed to help mitigate thermal loads on the structure by moving the solar arrays away from the spacecraft. This approach work done by
Challenger would also prove crucial in testing the autonomous approach and docking systems being developed for both the MTV and the MSAV, which would have extended periods of independent operation. Martin Marietta shut down production of the Aft Cargo Carrier modification, and scrapped any remaining ACC modifications. The US Air Force, now without a newer heavy lift vehicle, began to lobby Rockwell for rights to convert the space Shuttle Test Article,
Enterprise, into a space capable orbiter, but Rockwell deemed the project too expensive to continue. Internally, the company was unwilling to publicly lose another vehicle to the mismanagement they had identified in the Air Force command structure. With only their aging Titans, Atlas-Centaurs and lightweight Delta vehicles, the DoD began to call for new medium to heavy weight expendable vehicles able to be launched from both coasts, and potentially launch from a new launch site on the East Coast, most likely Virginia or Texas. McDonnell-Douglas, Morton Thiokol and Boeing would answer the call with 3 new launch vehicles to meet the Air Force’s needs: the Delta 8000, SRB-X and partly reusable Boeing EELV. Ultimately, the Boeing EELV and the Delta 8000 were selected, with the Air Force citing their common upper stage as a benefactor in securing routine, uncrewed access to space.