HOW MEN MADE IT TO THE MOON
Fifty years ago this month, Apollo 11 landed two astronauts on the surface of the Moon
Why did the US go to the Moon?
The decision was political. In October 1957, the Soviet Union launched the first satellite, Sputnik 1, into Earth’s orbit, using an adapted intercontinental ballistic missile. In April 1961, Yuri Gagarin became the first human in space. The apparent superiority of Soviet technology was a major blow to US security and prestige, and prompted President John F. Kennedy to declare in 1961: “I believe this nation should commit itself to achieving the goal, before this decade is out, of landing a man on the Moon.” By setting a goal so far beyond even Russia’s capability, he hoped to level the playing field.
And how did the US push ahead?
Through devoting a vast amount of money and know-how to the project. By
1967, Nasa’s Apollo programme employed more than 400,000 people and was consuming 4% of the entire US federal budget
– it cost $25bn in total, about $200bn in today’s money. It was probably the most centrally planned civilian operation in US history – ironic, given that the space race was seen as a test of whether capitalism or a communist command economy was the better system. It also relied on Nazi expertise: developed under the direction of ex-SS officer Wernher von Braun, the Saturn rockets that powered the Apollo missions were the descendants of the V-2 rockets built with slave labour and used to attack London.
What was so significant about the Saturn rocket?
The Saturn V used for the Apollo 11 mission is still the biggest and most powerful rocket ever deployed, standing 111 metres tall: at its launch at 9.32am on 16 July 1969 at the Kennedy Space Centre in Florida, it weighed more than 3,300 tons – 90% of which was fuel, delivering 7.5 million pounds of thrust. Nestling inside it were a conical command module, Columbia, housing the three astronauts, Buzz Aldrin, Michael Collins and the commander, Neil Armstrong; a service module; and the Eagle, the module for descending to the Moon. About a million people gathered in Florida to watch the Saturn V launch. Hitting a speed of 6,164 miles per hour, it reached space in 11 minutes 49 seconds, jettisoning two lower rocket stages en route.
How did it reach the Moon?
After orbiting the Earth oneand-a-half times in less than three hours, it performed the “translunar injection”: restarting the rocket’s engines to send it off on a trajectory towards the Moon – or rather, given that the Moon is a travelling target, 238,855 miles from Earth and orbiting it at 2,286mph – to the point where it would be when the three-day journey was completed. Upon arrival, the service module’s engine was fired to brake the craft and “insert” it in the lunar orbit. Up to this point, the astronauts had followed in the footsteps of the Apollo 8 and 10 lunar orbit missions; thereafter, they entered uncharted territory. The descent was to be the only truly uncontrolled section of the mission.
How did they achieve it?
Armstrong and Aldrin boarded the lunar module – a lightweight spider-legged craft with flimsy aluminium walls – and, leaving Collins orbiting the Moon in the Columbia, they headed towards a large plain called the Sea of Tranquillity. But they soon found themselves in trouble: they were ahead of the planned flight path, the guidance computer was blaring out error messages, the landing target was strewn with boulders and fuel was running low. Ice-cool, Armstrong took control and landed on the Moon with perhaps 90 seconds of fuel remaining. “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed,” he announced.
How long did they spend there?
21 hours and 36 minutes, although only two-and-a-half hours were spent exploring; just putting on their suits took over three hours. At 10.56pm on 20 July, Armstrong planted the first human foot on another world, with the famous words: “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” (It seems he fluffed his big line, leaving out the word “a” before “man”.) Aldrin joined him shortly after, remarking of the lunar surface: “Magnificent desolation.” Together they took photos, collected samples, raised a flag and left range-finding instruments for astronomers. They then successfully ascended to the lunar orbit, made their rendezvous with the Columbia, ditched the Eagle and service module, and made the quarter-million-mile return journey to Earth, splashing down in the Pacific on 24 July.
Was it all worth it?
It remains one of mankind’s greatest technological feats. The challenge of sustaining life in space inspired all sorts of inventions, from pressurised spacesuits, to freeze-dried food and water purifiers. Less gloriously, there were self-adhesive bags, sealed against the buttocks, to facilitate defecation in zero gravity. And though Nasa didn’t invent Velcro or Teflon (as is often claimed), it popularised them. The programme has paid its way, generating 1,800 spin-off products, spanning robotics, satellites, biomedical equipment, aeronautics and, crucially, computing. In the early 1960s, computers filled rooms: Nasa, wishing to pack one into a small craft, invested heavily in newly invented integrated circuits, the microchip’s forerunners. The computer had 36KB of read-only memory, a fraction of a smartphone’s today.
Did it transform space exploring?
The Moon landing was a great coup de théâtre, watched by some 600 million people. But it was not the breakthrough it seemed at the time. “Because of what you have done, the heavens have become part of man’s world,” President Nixon told the astronauts. In fact, it represented not the start of human space exploration, but a dead end (see box). In 1972, the programme was wound down. Yet Apollo 11, of course, continues to inspire: as Aldrin declared from space on his return journey, it is “a symbol of the insatiable curiosity of all mankind to explore the unknown”.