Another reminder on this last evening to vote: go give SSGL and all the other deserving timelines some love in the Turtledoves! https://www.alternatehistory.com/forum/threads/2023-turtledoves-best-spaceflight-and-technology-timeline-poll.539115/
Small Steps, Giant Leaps: An Alternate History of the Space Age
- Thread starter ThatCallisto
- Start date
Chapter 2, Interlude 1.5: SLAP in the Face
Small Steps, Giant Leaps - Chapter 2, Interlude 1.5: SLAP in the Face
From a modern perspective, the later 1970s and 1980s are often viewed as a retreat by NASA from the lunar heyday of Apollo back into Low Earth Orbit. This, however, was never an intentional decision on the part of the agency; even after the end of the ambitious Integrated Program Plan of 1969, NASA was still actively planning a post-Apollo lunar return throughout the 1970s.NASA’s plans for future crewed lunar endeavors post-Apollo were consolidated under a broad series of studies dubbed the ‘Shuttle Lunar Architecture Pathfinder’, or SLAP. As its name implies, SLAP envisioned the Space Transportation System - the Space Shuttle - as the program’s primary (or only) launch vehicle, operating on assumptions about Shuttle flight cadence and cost that were, in retrospect, wildly optimistic.
Each SLAP mission would require, on average, ten Shuttle launches over a period of just two months. If the Shuttle flight rate predictions of the early 1970s panned out, these launches could have been compressed into as little as one month - but, charitably, many of the SLAP studies assumed the Space Shuttle fleet would also be busy with various other duties alongside a lunar launch campaign.
SLAP would employ a selection of common spacecraft, in addition to the Space Shuttle Orbiter, all save for the landers themselves being common and reusable. Each mission would involve:
- an Orbital Propellant Depot
- several Lunar Injection Tugs
- a Lunar Command/Service Module
- one or more Lunar Landing Module(s)
Once the Depot was sufficiently filled for the mission, further Shuttle launches during the first campaign would deliver the Lunar Injection Tugs required for the mission. These Tugs, based on the Centaur upper stage, would perform trans-lunar injection for all Moon-bound SLAP components. After completing TLI, each Tug would separate and adjust its own trajectory onto a free-return lunar flyby, allowing a return to Earth, where it would have enough propellant to brake itself back into low Earth orbit. The Tugs could then either dock to the Depot for the next mission or be returned to Earth in a Shuttle for maintenance.
The final launches of a SLAP campaign would deliver the Command/Service Module, the Lunar Landing Module(s), and the mission’s crew. With all mission elements in orbit and fueled, the LLM would dock with its tug, the crew would transfer to the CSM, and both would maneuver onto parallel trans-lunar trajectories.
Unlike the combined stack of the Apollo missions, in this architecture the CSM and LLM would brake into lunar orbit separately, where the crew would then rendezvous and dock with their LLM before separating and descending to the lunar surface.
The SLAP CSM varied from study to study - the most well-known and favored variant from Rockwell International was essentially an upgraded derivative of their Apollo CSM, with solar panels and a refurbishable Command Module; other studies proposed a new-build capsule or even an orbit-to-orbit crew vehicle in place of a re-entry capsule entirely.
The SLAP Lunar Landing Module similarly varied, but again the frontrunner came from Rockwell International. Their proposal was for a four-crew vehicle far more capable than its Grumman-built Apollo predecessor, using a far larger and more efficient hydrolox descent stage powered by four RL-10 engines. Most concepts were two-stage designs similar to the Apollo Lunar Module, although one concept simply mounted the crew cabin directly on the descent stage, foregoing the need for an ascent stage engine entirely - this design, based on more positive assumptions about hydrogen boil-off on the lunar surface, would remain competitive throughout the duration of the SLAP studies.
The ascent stage of the Lunar Landing Module (on the two-stage Rockwell design, at least) would use a set of enlarged Apollo Lunar Module ascent stage tanks or similar below the crew cabin, powered either by a single upgraded engine derived from the Apollo Ascent Propulsion System, or two “standard” APS engines. The crew cabin itself would be perhaps the strangest feature of the LLM - it was, essentially, an Apollo Command Module, stripped of its heat shield and external paneling and flipped upside-down to allow its windows to face the lunar surface during landing. The internal arrangement was similarly flipped, relocating controls and foregoing crew couches in favor of standing consoles. The side hatch would be used to exit and re-enter the vehicle during EVAs, while what was previously the docking tunnel would house either additional storage or ascent engine plumbing, depending on the design. In place of the heat shield, a top docking adapter would allow the LLM to connect to the SLAP CSM in lunar orbit. Life support hardware, provided by the Service Module on Apollo, would instead be mounted either on the ascent stage or descent stage structure, again varying by design.
The Lunar Landing Module would have three variants: Crew LLM, Shelter LLM, and Cargo LLM, together allowing for missions lasting up to two months on the lunar surface, with the Crew LLM capable of “hibernating” during this time while the three astronauts lived in the Shelter LLM. Long-stay missions using a Shelter LLM would be vital in building up to a permanent lunar base, envisioned as a logical end-goal of the entire SLAP concept. In all three designs, power would be provided by solar panels mounted on the sides of the descent stage, with the ascent stage being battery-powered for the brief ride back into lunar orbit. For long-stays, fuel cells or a set of radioisotope thermoelectric generators would provide the power needed to survive the long lunar night.
Initial SLAP studies began in mid-1974, with the Space Shuttle’s final design architecture approved and the final Apollo mission readying for launch. The design and concepts would be fleshed out throughout the coming years, with various Phase A and Phase B studies finalizing the design and even beginning small-scale components testing by early 1977. Projections for the program assuming approval in 1978-79 assumed a return to the Moon some time around 1984-85.
Ultimately, however, what killed SLAP was not a lack of desire to return to the Moon, nor a better understanding of Shuttle capabilities; what killed the 1980s Return To The Moon was, of course, politics.
The election of 1976 was a watershed moment for American politics. After years of simmering political tension, this final presidential election of the decade would prove to be a no-holds-barred slugfest.
On the Democratic side, the primaries saw an initial field of 7 candidates eventually settle on sitting Vice President Jimmy Carter (and running mate Senator Walter Mondale of Minnesota), walking the tightrope of both carrying RFK’s banner and highlighting the administration’s second-term successes (the Equal Rights Amendment, environmental legislation, nuclear talks with the Soviet Union, and healthcare reform), and also trying to distance themselves from the President’s perceived failings (the 1973 oil crisis, stock market instability, the fall of South Vietnam in 1973-74, etc.)[1]
On the Republican side, things started off split between three major candidates: Representative John B. Anderson of Illinois, Former California Governor Ronald Reagan, and Kansas Senator and prior Republican nominee Bob Dole. Dole performed well in initial primaries, but lost the North Carolina primary in March, an upset victory for Reagan, who would subsequently score three more major victories in Texas, Georgia, and Indiana in early May. The entire Republican field, however, would be upended by Ronald Reagan’s hospitalization on May 18th with a bladder infection, and subsequent death in the early hours of May 19th due to sepsis, just one day after winning both the Maryland and Michigan primaries.[2] Bob Dole would go on to win the Republican nomination, once again selecting New York Governor Nelson Rockefeller as his running mate.
In the general election, simply put, Vice President Carter never stood a chance. The Dole campaign portrayed him as both a continuation of “Kennedy liberalism” and (in light of his environmental push as VP) a “hippie maniac” too focused on solar panels and hugging trees to provide America with strong leadership. Dole won the presidential election in a landslide, taking the Presidency from the Democrats for the first time since 1960, and carrying with this “Red Tidal Wave” the House of Representatives, joining the Senate to give the Republican Party both houses of Congress and the Oval Office.
The fiscally-conservative Dole administration, and the Republican Congress it oversaw, were eager to pare back government spending. NASA was officially directed in late 1977 to cease all work on the Shuttle Lunar Architecture Pathfinder. SLAP was not the only NASA project impacted by this change in administration; its consequences on the Shuttle would be felt throughout the first decade of the STS Program, and even projects as well-entrenched and close to launch as Starlab and Pioneer Mars would come dangerously close to cancellation during 1977-1981.
Ultimately, however, the cancellation of SLAP might, perhaps, be viewed as a positive. The concept relied on incredibly unrealistic flight rates for the Space Shuttle; and even had it left the drawing board, it is likely that delays and flight hardware problems would ultimately have doomed the program before American astronauts returned to the Moon.
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Happy April Fools', everyone - we figured we'd use this opportunity to post the silliest - though still canon - thing we've been working on. Shuttle-based lunar program? What are we, Boldly Going?
Callisto’s notes:
[1]: Vietnam collapses earlier ITTL due to the earlier/different pull-out. I actually dropped a hint towards this eventually happening all the way back in Ch1, Part 10A, during the news read in the first section - the US is out of the picture by this point, but it's still a massive embarrassment for Kennedy. As for the rest of the stuff, the 1973 oil crisis is still a thing and generally the 1970s are still pretty volatile, if different to OTL.
[2]: I killed Reagan and I’ll cheerfully do it again. lol.
Not the April Fool's joke I was expecting, but a welcome one none the less - SLAP seems like a fun enough endeavor...
Ronald Reagan is dead in 1976. This timeline is automatically better.
It's my pleasure to be able to provide this important piece of concept art for the two stage variant of the Crew LLM for SLAP:
Quick bad news update, everyone - Imgur (where we hosted our images to this point) is updating their TOS, and one of the changes is deleting all images posted by unregistered users. I've got everything saved, so no need to worry long-term, but in the short-term I have to go back and re-upload all our images either to a registered account or another web host.
I know it's been over a month, so consider this proof of life - we're still kicking, and work continues on the timeline. This next big Part will cover STS-1, finally, and then we'll be off to the races with STS and the 1980s and everything else. Expect a publish date in the next couple weeks, assuming I survive the Memorial Day weekend crowds working at a major tourist attraction.
Chapter 2, Part 2: Fly, Kitty Hawk!
Small Steps, Giant Leaps - Chapter 2, Part 2: Fly, Kitty Hawk!
March 5th, 1980
6:00 A.M., Eastern Standard Time
Kennedy Space Center LC-39A
STS-1 T-4 Hours
The van crested the lip of Pad 39A’s massive concrete ramp and rumbled to a stop. It was a familiar sight, the same boxy old Clark-Cortez motorhome with a red and blue stripe running down the sides and a flashing red light on top which had made this same trip over a dozen times, emblazoned now with NASA’s bright red logo font in place of its previous blue roundel. Two technicians opened the doors at the rear, and out clambered two figures, clad in khaki pressure suits.
The view was, for Pilot Bob Lawrence, still a bit unreal despite all the practice leading up to it. Towering above, clad in white and illuminated by floodlights, Kitty Hawk and her launch stack looked otherworldly, like an oversized moth clinging to some strange alien cathedral, ready to carry him into space for the first time. There was a butterfly-like fluttering in his stomach; the same he’d felt at his high school graduation, or before breaking the sound barrier his first time in an F-104. As much as being an astronaut could be like any other day job, moments like this reminded him that it was all real.
For the other half of STS-1’s crew, for Commander Fred Haise, the butterflies were of an entirely different sort. This would be his third and final trip into space, and from the moment the stack left the pad to when the wheels finally stopped on the runway, Kitty Hawk, this factory-fresh super-advanced space vehicle, was his responsibility. There was only one thing running through his mind: ‘Don’t trip on the finish line, Fred.’
After shaking their driver’s hand, the two astronauts walked the short distance to the base of the tower, and climbed onto 39A’s elevator, joined by a small group of pad techs. The doors slid shut, and they began the long, slow ascent.
Doors open once more at the top, Fred and Bob were afforded a final view of the greens, blues, and browns of the Cape as they walked the length of the Access Arm, a light morning breeze playing across their as-yet unhelmeted heads. In the White Room, there was another set of handshakes to be had, final suit checks, and equipping their bulky white helmets, before the small crowd of technicians finally let the two astronauts climb through the rounded black-and-white hatch and aboard their waiting vessel.
Kitty Hawk was obviously alive; the soft hissing of life support air pumps, the quiet whirr of fans, the low ambient hum of electronics, even the sound of condensation on the External Tank outside, provided an ever-present background noise.
On the main Flight Deck, a white-suited technician helped the two men into their seats. He stood vertically, parallel to the floor and ceiling; a peculiar sight that made it seem almost as if he were sideways, rather than everything else.
Kitty Hawk’s flight controls were an odd mix of mundane and exotic to the two former airmen, even with the familiarity of practice; a dizzying array of analog switches and dials shared space with state-of-the-art cathode ray tube screens, and a computer keypad sat next to a joystick and pedals which wouldn’t look out of place in an aircraft four decades older. Out the windows, the clear blue Florida sky beckoned, hardly a few wispy clouds overhead.
Settling into the Pilot’s chair, Bob Lawrence shared a thumbs-up with his Commander. Fully suited at this point, the two figures were near-identical, save for their faces squished behind the helmet’s inner visor, and the small black patches lettered F. HAISE and R. LAWRENCE emblazoned on the left side of their flight suits. Fred gave a smile, and Bob returned it.
“Well, Freddo,” Bob commented, “looks like it’s gonna be a fine day for some flying. Think you’ll give Kitty Hawk as bumpy a landing as your first run on old Connie?”
Haise took the good-natured jab in stride, a chuckle in his voice as he responded. “Don’t think we’ll have to worry about that, Bob- think I’ve learned my lesson quite nicely.”
The pre-flight banter was interrupted by a crackle over the comm. “Uh, Kitty Hawk, Houston, comm check.”
Fred dropped back into a more professional tone. “Roger, Houston, Commander reads you loud and clear.”
Bob couldn’t help but grin to himself. “Pilot reads you five-by-five, Houston. Everything’s looking great from here.”
Kitty Hawk’s journey to the pad was by no means a simple one. Before NASA could even consider launching the Shuttle, they’d need the ground support facilities to enable it.
At the end of Project Apollo, NASA’s Kennedy Space Center faced down the long, multi-year endeavor of transforming itself to better suit what was to come. As space hardware was to evolve with the Space Transportation System, so too would the ground systems and infrastructure to support it.
While KSC’s mighty Vehicle Assembly Building required few external changes, being already a one-size-fits-all building[1], on the inside things were much more interesting. When the Space Shuttle’s full design was finalized in 1972, Project Apollo was still in full swing; it would not be until November 1974 when Apollo 20 rolled out to the pad that work could finally begin to upgrade the VAB, at least in part. High Bays 3 & 4 would be the first to receive a facelift, being upgraded with new crane attachments and modified work platforms to accommodate full Shuttle stacking and External Tank handling respectively. High Bay 1 would follow in mid-1976 following Skylab 5, also being converted to support a full Shuttle stack. High Bay 2 would retain its Apollo-era configuration for the time being, being needed to support the launch of Starlab which, by this point, had slipped to 1981.[2] Other smaller-scale changes throughout the massive building would fill out the rest of the program’s needs, from engine and payload handling to computer check-outs.
Most significant on KSC’s central campus would be the construction of a new building: the Orbiter Processing Facility (OPF) to the west of the VAB.[1] The OPF, a hangar split into two high bays, would serve as each Space Shuttle Orbiter’s “garage” between missions, allowing for the months of work needed to swap out engines, inspect and replace thermal tiles, inspect internal systems, remove returned payloads and install future ones, and so on. Aside from the OPF, numerous other existing buildings flanking the VAB would receive internal upgrades and modifications to support the myriad different needs of such a complex spacecraft and program.[3]
To the northwest of the VAB, construction began in 1974 on a massive dedicated runway, the Shuttle Landing Facility (SLF). At 15,000 feet long and 300 feet wide, the SLF would be one of the largest runways in the world, and history’s first dedicated permanent spacecraft landing facility.
KSC’s Launch Complex 39A would undergo the most dramatic metamorphosis of all; nearly everything at or related to the launch pad was either removed or reworked from the ground up to suit this radically new space vehicle, save for the most basic supports which held up the launch platforms themselves. Mobile Launch Platform-1 lost its Apollo-era umbilical tower[4], the top sections of which became 39A’s new Fixed Service Structure tower. Complementing this was the all-new Rotating Service Structure, a behemoth pivoting framework made to provide on-pad access to the Shuttle’s payload bay.
Rather notably, while LC-39A received these new Shuttle-era updates, its neighboring twin LC-39B remained, for the time being, in its Apollo-era configuration, as did Mobile Launch Platform-3; these, like High Bay 2 in the VAB, were still required for Starlab. It would only be after the station’s launch in 1981 that LC-39B would be updated, although this single-pad mode of initial operation for the Space Shuttle was not, generally, expected to seriously impact early STS flight cadence.[4]
Upon the completion of the VAB and LC-39A’s upgrades, two Shuttle test articles would be used to verify systems before the real thing; first, a basic wood-and-steel mockup approximating the size, shape, and weight of the Orbiter originally built at Marshall, and then, beginning in late 1978, OV-101 Constitution herself. The latter was mounted to an External Tank and a pair of Solid Rocket Boosters, allowing for full-stack testing through the beginning of 1979. It was Constitution, then, that became the first Space Shuttle to make it to Pad 39A in May of 1979, not Kitty Hawk.
[The unnamed wood-and-steel Space Shuttle Orbiter mockup is moved into the VAB for fit and lift testing, 1978. Image credit: NASA Archives]
[OV-101 Constitution sits atop Pad 39A, early 1979. Note that the tower still retains some of its Saturn-era 'International Orange' paintjob. Image credit: NASA]
"Kitty Hawk, Houston, you're looking good at thirty seconds."
"Copy, Houston. We're seeing the same."
And this, it seemed, was it. Barring a last-second scrub, Fred Haise and Bob Lawrence were going (and in Fred’s case, going back) to space.
There was little time to stop and appreciate the moment; at this point in the countdown, every second was careful, practiced choreography. The two astronauts monitored their respective control consoles, eyes peeled for anything off-nominal. Kitty Hawk seemed to breathe around them, the hiss of condensation joined now by the creak of valves opening far below, letting hydrogen and oxygen flow into the main engines.
Fred Haise couldn’t help but grin at the familiar sound of a rocket coming alive in the final moments before launch- distinct, but parallel to the same on his prior two missions.
“- T-minus 10. 9. 8. 7.”
“Go for main engine start.”
“- 5. 4. 3. 2-”
A great, bellowing roar grew from below, as Kitty Hawk’s three mighty RS-25 engines thundered to life, up to full thrust. The whole structure seemed to strain, rocking forward and then back, still held by the bonds of gravity for a few final, aching seconds.
“Booster ignition.”
The world, it seemed, exploded. The roar of the engines was subsumed by a wall of sound and vibration, like being rear-ended by a freight train, an impact both Fred and Bob felt in the deepest part of their bones. Metal groaned as the hold-down clamps disengaged in that shocking instant, and Kitty Hawk lurched northward off the pad.
Somewhere, unheard by the crew, a Public Affairs Officer shouted over the roar: “Liftoff, we have liftoff on the first flight of the Space Shuttle, Kitty Hawk blazing a new trail to the stars in mankind’s 77-year journey of flight!”
Fred shouted, “Liftoff-” and, in 5 seconds that felt like 500, “Houston, we have a roll program.”
Cutting through the roar came the reply, tight against his ear in the helmet. “Roger roll, Kitty Hawk.”
12 seconds into flight, Kitty Hawk leaned into its pre-programmed roll, orienting the stack for orbit. In this moment, it surpassed the duration of history’s first powered flight. Were they here to witness it, those two Ohio bicycle-makers for whom Kitty Hawk was named, there is no doubt that Wilbur and Orville Wright would be just as awestruck and proud as the rest of the crowds watching from the beaches below.
“Roll program complete.”
“Roger roll complete.”
Even with the G-forces pressing down on them, the skull-rattling vibration and deafening roar of the Solid Rocket Boosters, the sheer insanity of the moment, there was no time to sit back, no break. Both men monitored their suites of instruments diligently. The two of them were, in a very real sense, a vital part of this machine; whereas Mercury, Gemini, and even Apollo had included a modicum of automated capability, the Space Shuttle was a vehicle incapable of completing its mission without a crew. STS-1 was a test flight, and Fred and Bob were themselves a part of that test.
“Kitty Hawk, Houston, you are Go at throttle-up!”
“Roger, Go at throttle-up.”
To both these men, the flight was not entirely to expectations. The G-forces were tough but manageable - lower than Saturn, in Fred’s case, and lower by far than anything experienced by Bob as a test pilot. The most noticeable difference from either another rocket or a jet was the vibration from those two enormous solid boosters, rattling the both of them around in their seats. Even now, over a minute into flight with the sound fading in the rarified air, that vibration was omnipresent.
“Kitty Hawk, you are negative seats.”
Too high for the ejector seats to work properly. At this point, they were committed - orbit or otherwise, Fred and Bob would be aboard this ride the whole way.
“Kitty Hawk, you are Go for SRB sep.”
The boosters reached the end of their burn, and with one last great kick in the pants, in unison they separated from the External Tank. The jolt of it rattled through the structure of the Shuttle.
“SRB sep feels good.”
“Roger on the sep, Kitty Hawk.”
With the boosters gone, everything smoothed right out. Kitty Hawk’s upward trajectory gracefully rolled back towards horizontal. To an outside observer, it would appear that the Shuttle hung beneath her External Tank, ‘upside down’ relative to the Earth below. Compared to the heart-pounding pace of the first two minutes, the next 6 seemed much more relaxed - standard abort callouts, chatter about trajectory (the stack skewing high, but not dangerously so, to be expected for a first launch); there was little to do but keep on monitoring the spacecraft’s systems, until 8 and a half minutes into flight.
“-and MECO, beautiful.”
“Copy MECO, Kitty Hawk, and you are Go for tank sep.”
With another small jolt and a blast of Kitty Hawk’s maneuvering thrusters, the now-depleted External Tank separated from the Space Shuttle Orbiter. The thrusters themselves were a surprise - so large, and so close, they sounded to the two men like cannonfire. Out his window, Fred caught a view of the side of the tank as it drifted away - no longer the even off-white it’d been before launch, but mottled with charred black. It rolled slowly out of view, an end-over-end pirouette, shedding glittering flakes of ice and thermal foam as it went.
“Thanks for the ride, buddy.” Fred remarked to the tank, looking once more to his console in preparation for the first OMS maneuver to put Kitty Hawk in space to stay.
Upon reaching an approximately 240km circular orbit, the mission of STS-1 was simple; a two-day-long checkout of spacecraft systems. Haise and Lawrence safed their ejection seats, opened the Payload Bay to allow for heat rejection, unstrapped from their seats, and doffed their launch suits in quick order. The Payload Bay on STS-1 carried only a collection of sensors called the Development Flight Instrumentation package, meant to monitor the Shuttle’s performance throughout every phase of the mission. The OMS pods on the Orbiter’s aft section were noted to have sustained minor debris damage during launch, but otherwise, Kitty Hawk’s systems were found to be overall performing well.
[A view of Kitty Hawk’s Payload Bay and aft section with the DFI package over Earth, taken by STS-1 Pilot Robert Lawrence. Note the missing tiles on the OMS pods. March 5th, 1980. Image credit: NASA]
----
STS-1’s two-day orbital mission was, expectedly as a test mission, occupied primarily with tests. Star tracking, Earth photography and observation, maneuvering and RCS thruster firing, propellant flow, computer performance, radiation; Lawrence at one point remarked that the mission was “the most thorough NASA physical ever administered[.]” The two astronauts were unfortunately unable to sample the expanded menu of space food that future Shuttle missions promised; as the Orbiter’s galley had yet to be installed in the mid-deck, STS-1 carried a basic electric food warmer system similar to that used aboard Skylab.[5]
On the second day of flight, Haise and Lawrence received a phone call from the President of the United States, Robert Dole; the President conveyed his congratulations on a successful launch, and his hopes for a safe landing the following day.
Re-entry preparations began almost immediately once the crew awoke on March 7th. Following breakfast (grits with butter for Haise, corn flake cereal with rehydrated milk for Lawrence), the astronauts stowed items in the cabin, verified Kitty Hawk’s computer systems, and re-donned their pressure suits for landing. The crucial step of closing the Payload Bay - essential to ensure vehicle integrity during reentry and landing - proceeded without issue. Had it not, Lawrence had been trained to perform a contingency EVA into the Payload Bay to manually winch the doors closed, with Haise able to assist if needed.[6] With the doors successfully closing and sealing, however, this would thankfully not be necessary. Following Payload Bay closure, the two astronauts strapped back into their seats on the Flight Deck to prepare for reentry.
“-and, Bob, altimeter 3-0-0-niner.”
“Roger.”
“Kitty Hawk, you’re looking good, right on the money.”
After two days on orbit, the familiar feeling of G-forces pulling the astronauts down into their seats was a welcome companion. Reentry itself had been a breeze - one quick burn of the OMS, and then a slow, easy, half-hour coast down into the atmosphere. To Fred Haise, after two Apollo reentries on 13 and ASTP with G’s of over 6 on the former and 3 on the latter, the relatively light peak load of around 1.5 G’s from Kitty Hawk’s descent had been nothing. To Bob Lawrence, first-time space traveler but experienced test pilot, reentry had been similarly casual by comparison.
And now they were in the home stretch, 20,000 feet above the desert, a dozen miles out from landing at Edwards Air Force Base.
“You’re right on the glide slope, Kitty Hawk.”
“Copy, Houston.”
“Approaching the center line, looking great.”
In his periphery out the window, Fred thought he spotted the darting white shape of one of the T-38 chase planes moving into place - unlikely to have been a cloud, in this clear desert sky.
The lakebed below seemed to rush up at them through the windows, the criss-crossing lines of the runways at Edwards coming into sharp focus as Kitty Hawk careened steeply downward.
Bob Lawrence kept his eyes on his half of the cockpit, but remarked to Fred, "Makes me feel like we're in Dr. Strangelove here, riding the bomb. Yee-hoo!"
Over the comm from the seat next to him, a laugh from the Commander. "Well then, let's just hope we don't hit as hard as Major Kong did!"
“Everything looks real good - 5000, 290.”
In the final moments, each second seemed a minute unto itself. Quickly but carefully, Kitty Hawk’s nose pitched up, flaring almost horizontal out of her steep dive. The desert floor rocketed past below at mind-numbing speed out the windows a few dozen feet below, several hundred miles per hour.
“Gear’s comin’ out-”, Fred remarked, the familiar sensation of additional drag hitting the astronauts as the massive gear doors swung open below, the Shuttle’s wheels pivoting and locking into place, “- and locked.”
Bob watched his instruments carefully - despite all the adrenaline of his first orbital landing, this was familiar territory from landing Constitution. He counted out altitude for the both of them, as Kitty Hawk eased the few final feet down.
“50 feet… 40… 30… 20, 10, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1- Touchdown!”
With a chest-deep shock through the whole vehicle, the rear wheels found home on the runway, and Kitty Hawk kept on rolling, her nose pitching down now too, slowing all the time. With one final, welcome kick, the front gear hit the ground, and, speed brakes flaring, Kitty Hawk cruised to a stop on Runway 23 at Edwards.
Over the comm from Houston, applause could be heard. “Welcome home, Kitty Hawk. Beautiful, just beautiful landing.”
“Alright boys,” Fred’s smile was audible, “We ready to take ‘er back up for round two?”
[STS-1 lands at Edwards Air Force Base, March 7th, 1980. Image credit: NASA]
STS-1 set out with a goal of proving the Space Transportation System on the most basic level - launch, orbit, and landing. It passed this test more or less with flying colors, proving the Space Shuttle not only as a basically functional spacecraft, but as a finely-tuned piece of engineering. The mission also gave NASA the opportunity to, in a real mission environment, verify the systems needed for future flights, and to work out the many quirks and small issues sure to be found with a new vehicle. It was by no means a flawless or perfect performance, and many areas (notably the integrity of the thermal tiles) provided lessons to be learned for the future.[7] STS-1’s brief 2-day mission set the stage for a wide-ranging, ambitious, and technically complex program to come. It served as the first test of a vehicle intended from the start to be reusable, and proved the dozens of connected systems needed to make such an outlandish concept work. On a socially-significant note, STS-1 put the first Black man into space,[8] setting the precedent of a more diverse astronaut corps which the Space Shuttle program would, in time, come to be known for.[9]
Kitty Hawk would return from Edwards Air Force Base to Kennedy Space Center via Shuttle Carrier Aircraft following the mission’s conclusion to undergo preparations for her next flight, scheduled for the latter part of 1980. From there, the upper limit on Space Shuttle reusability was theorized to be somewhere around 100 each - which, across an Orbiter fleet of 4, would mean NASA had now taken the first step in ensuring decades of consistent access to space.
It's still June 11th in my timezone as I post this, therefore, it is Space Shuttle Sunday.
Thank you as always for reading! This may be one of the last Parts for a while to cover just a single mission, unless we decide otherwise.
Thanks to KAL for helping push this one through, Wolf as always, Dennis R. Jenkins for being our main source for Shuttle-related minutae, and Talv for some incredible upcoming renders! Here's a preview, an STS-1 image which is just plain stunning:
Callisto’s notes for Chapter 2, Part 2:
- There is no prior launch scrub ITTL on STS-1.
[1]: The only notable exterior change is the widening of the north door by 40ft to accommodate the Shuttle Orbiter’s wingspan, as per OTL.
[2]: IOTL, Apollo was mostly concluded by 1972, save for the Skylab program and ASTP in 1975, so the VAB was largely clear for reconstruction throughout the 1970s. ITTL, Saturn V is still flying until late 1974, the last two manned Saturn IBs fly in 1976, and there’s still a Saturn IB on the line for Starlab, so the VAB situation is a bit more crowded.
[3]: Big big shoutout to NASA’s KSC History website, particularly this chapter, for help on all this https://www.nasa.gov/centers/kennedy/about/history/story/ch12.html
[4]: Weirdly, this single-pad ops setup is as OTL - NASA didn’t launch a Space Shuttle from 39B IOTL until 1986, that launch being the ill-fated STS-51L.
[5]: This is as OTL.
[6]: The contingency EVA plan is as OTL, but as the Shuttle-era Extravehicular Mobility Units would not be ready until the end of 1980/beginning of 1981 at the latest, STS-1 flies with some of the last A7LB spacesuits, similar to those used aboard Skylab.
[7]: We don’t go into detail here, but assume STS-1 ITTL has similar little things to OTL; an APU alarm, minor issues due to the SRB pressure wave, general tile damage from ice, etc.
[8]: IOTL the Soviets put the first person of African descent into space on Soyuz 38, Cuban cosmonaut Arnaldo Tamayo Méndez.
[9]: We’ll be covering the state of NASA’s astronaut corps in a future Interlude.
Thank you as always for reading! This may be one of the last Parts for a while to cover just a single mission, unless we decide otherwise.
Thanks to KAL for helping push this one through, Wolf as always, Dennis R. Jenkins for being our main source for Shuttle-related minutae, and Talv for some incredible upcoming renders! Here's a preview, an STS-1 image which is just plain stunning:
Callisto’s notes for Chapter 2, Part 2:
- There is no prior launch scrub ITTL on STS-1.
[1]: The only notable exterior change is the widening of the north door by 40ft to accommodate the Shuttle Orbiter’s wingspan, as per OTL.
[2]: IOTL, Apollo was mostly concluded by 1972, save for the Skylab program and ASTP in 1975, so the VAB was largely clear for reconstruction throughout the 1970s. ITTL, Saturn V is still flying until late 1974, the last two manned Saturn IBs fly in 1976, and there’s still a Saturn IB on the line for Starlab, so the VAB situation is a bit more crowded.
[3]: Big big shoutout to NASA’s KSC History website, particularly this chapter, for help on all this https://www.nasa.gov/centers/kennedy/about/history/story/ch12.html
[4]: Weirdly, this single-pad ops setup is as OTL - NASA didn’t launch a Space Shuttle from 39B IOTL until 1986, that launch being the ill-fated STS-51L.
[5]: This is as OTL.
[6]: The contingency EVA plan is as OTL, but as the Shuttle-era Extravehicular Mobility Units would not be ready until the end of 1980/beginning of 1981 at the latest, STS-1 flies with some of the last A7LB spacesuits, similar to those used aboard Skylab.
[7]: We don’t go into detail here, but assume STS-1 ITTL has similar little things to OTL; an APU alarm, minor issues due to the SRB pressure wave, general tile damage from ice, etc.
[8]: IOTL the Soviets put the first person of African descent into space on Soyuz 38, Cuban cosmonaut Arnaldo Tamayo Méndez.
[9]: We’ll be covering the state of NASA’s astronaut corps in a future Interlude.
Launching your new space station on a rocket that will have been manufactured 15 years old ago at that point is.... stressful.