Source: Robert Kurson. Rocket Men - The Daring Odyssey of
Apollo 8 and the Astronauts Who Made Man's First Journey to the Moon (2018)
Apollo 8 and the Astronauts Who Made Man's First Journey to the Moon (2018)
As the command module approached 25,000 mph, Borman told his crewmates that he’d never seen it (the fire around the command module) so bright before, and the G-Forces were increasing. All the crew could do was to endure and hope the heat shield held up to the unprecedented heat on reentry. The G-Forces increased to G-7, which to a 150 pound astronaut made him feel like he weighed 1050 pounds. Despite the G-Forces, the reentry was smoother for the astronauts than the lift-off. A Pan Am passenger jet pilot saw the fireball in the distance, and he said Apollo 8 looked like a comet with a tail about 100 miles long.
At the maximum G-Force level, the inferno surrounding Apollo 8 turned pure white, with the temperature outside the command module reaching half that of the Sun. At that point, Anders saw something that terrified him, in that he saw baseball-sized chunks of the heat shield flying off, much larger pieces than NASA expected, and he waited for the fireball to kill them all. As it turned out, the heat shield had worked perfectly, despite the huge chunks that Anders had seen. In actuality, the “chunks” were granular in size, as they were supposed to be, but they were surrounded by an ionized haze making them appear much larger.
After about a minute of that peak intensity, the onboard computer automatically started to roll the spacecraft, since lift was possible due to the command module’s offset center mass, assuming the spacecraft was correctly positioned. Now the command module began to climb a bit back up into the atmosphere, lowering the G-Forces and cooling down the exterior of the command module in the process. Anders told his crewmates that the cabin temperature was holding well, and he also said that they had quite the ride; Borman responded by saying “Damndest thing I ever saw”.
At the maximum G-Force level, the inferno surrounding Apollo 8 turned pure white, with the temperature outside the command module reaching half that of the Sun. At that point, Anders saw something that terrified him, in that he saw baseball-sized chunks of the heat shield flying off, much larger pieces than NASA expected, and he waited for the fireball to kill them all. As it turned out, the heat shield had worked perfectly, despite the huge chunks that Anders had seen. In actuality, the “chunks” were granular in size, as they were supposed to be, but they were surrounded by an ionized haze making them appear much larger.
After about a minute of that peak intensity, the onboard computer automatically started to roll the spacecraft, since lift was possible due to the command module’s offset center mass, assuming the spacecraft was correctly positioned. Now the command module began to climb a bit back up into the atmosphere, lowering the G-Forces and cooling down the exterior of the command module in the process. Anders told his crewmates that the cabin temperature was holding well, and he also said that they had quite the ride; Borman responded by saying “Damndest thing I ever saw”.
Three minutes after losing contact with Apollo 8, CapCom (Mattingly) tried to reestablish communication with Apollo 8, knowing he was early in doing so. Meanwhile, Apollo 8 had started its second grind into the atmosphere, and the G-Forces and the heat increased again. Lovell told his crewmates that the descent and lift process would occur three total times. About 20 seconds later, Apollo 8 had been slowed by the atmosphere to suborbital speeds, and the computer started to roll the command module one way and another, steering them to the Navy’s recovery ships in the Pacific. It had been almost five minutes since reentry started, and Lovell began to try and communicate with Mission Control. Lovell’s second attempt reached Mission Control, and CapCom (Mattingly) responded by saying “Go ahead, Apollo 8. Read you broken and loud”, at which point Borman jumped in saying “Roger. This is a real fireball”.
One hundred thousand feet below, the USS Yorktown had Apollo 8 on its radar. A minute later Apollo 8 was at an altitude of only 40,000 feet, plummeting to Earth at 680 mph. At around 30,000 feet, an altitude sensor fired explosives to release the two stabilizing parachutes that would keep Apollo 8 steady for the three main parachutes. At 20,000 feet, the descent rate had slowed, and inside the command module cabin, an air vent opened to equalize the inside-and-outside air pressures. At 300 mph, the three main parachutes were automatically deployed at 10,000 feet, and Apollo 8 slowly descended in the dark towards the Pacific.
One hundred thousand feet below, the USS Yorktown had Apollo 8 on its radar. A minute later Apollo 8 was at an altitude of only 40,000 feet, plummeting to Earth at 680 mph. At around 30,000 feet, an altitude sensor fired explosives to release the two stabilizing parachutes that would keep Apollo 8 steady for the three main parachutes. At 20,000 feet, the descent rate had slowed, and inside the command module cabin, an air vent opened to equalize the inside-and-outside air pressures. At 300 mph, the three main parachutes were automatically deployed at 10,000 feet, and Apollo 8 slowly descended in the dark towards the Pacific.
Eventually Apollo 8’s descending speed slowed to 19 mph, and the thrusters on the command module ignited in order to use all the remaining fuel so there would not be contaminants and toxic substances in the recovery area in the water. The fire from the thrusters also allowed the crew to see the three parachutes above them. The command module was lowered at a slight angle with the parachutes so it would knife into the water instead of belly-flopping on its blunt base. Doing so would lessen the impact for the crew when the command module hit the ocean.
Moments after the thrusters finished firing, one of the Navy’s recovery aircraft made contact with Apollo 8. With three minutes until splashdown, the recovery helicopters spotted the flashing beacons from Apollo 8, which was almost directly over the USS Yorktown. At 100 feet, the crew braced themselves for impact with the Pacific, not knowing exactly when it would occur. Instead of coming in at a slight angle, Apollo 8 came in flat and belly-flopped into the ocean, its blunt end colliding with a rising wave. It was the most violent impact possible in the ocean for an Apollo command module being lowered by three parachutes. Surrounded by water and a bit stunned from the impact, Borman could not flip the switch that released the three parachutes, and the command module was dragged over and turned upside-down in the Pacific.
The impact was nothing that the crew had been prepared for by NASA, and by the time Borman was able to cut the lines to the parachutes, the crew was hanging upside-down in their straps, with water pouring down over them. The crew thought that the spacecraft had split open from the impact, and that the cabin was filling with seawater. Anders got ready to open the hatch and get all three of them out before the command module sank, which was something for which they had been trained.
Moments after the thrusters finished firing, one of the Navy’s recovery aircraft made contact with Apollo 8. With three minutes until splashdown, the recovery helicopters spotted the flashing beacons from Apollo 8, which was almost directly over the USS Yorktown. At 100 feet, the crew braced themselves for impact with the Pacific, not knowing exactly when it would occur. Instead of coming in at a slight angle, Apollo 8 came in flat and belly-flopped into the ocean, its blunt end colliding with a rising wave. It was the most violent impact possible in the ocean for an Apollo command module being lowered by three parachutes. Surrounded by water and a bit stunned from the impact, Borman could not flip the switch that released the three parachutes, and the command module was dragged over and turned upside-down in the Pacific.
The impact was nothing that the crew had been prepared for by NASA, and by the time Borman was able to cut the lines to the parachutes, the crew was hanging upside-down in their straps, with water pouring down over them. The crew thought that the spacecraft had split open from the impact, and that the cabin was filling with seawater. Anders got ready to open the hatch and get all three of them out before the command module sank, which was something for which they had been trained.
A moment later the water stopped raining down on the crew, and they realized that it hadn’t been seawater, but condensation of the cold surfaces of the cabin during reentry. Borman pushed a button that inflated three large balloons, which flipped over the command module. At that point, sickened by the impact, the high seas, and the sudden inversion, Borman vomited all over his crewmates. Lovell and Anders, Navy men, let Borman have it, yelling at their commander “Typical Army guy, can’t handle the water”. Walter Cronkite, watching the scene unfold of Apollo 8 in the water with the recovery team coming to get them, took off his glasses as if he couldn’t believe the mission had just ended. Cronkite announced that the command module had landed in the Pacific just 2.75 miles from the USS Yorktown, and the CBS anchorman stated “Apollo 8 has ended up to this point as perfectly as it began”.
At Mission Control as applause broke out, a fifteen foot long US flag was unfurled, covering the giant wall map that had been used for the mission. All three flight shifts were present to experience the moment of Apollo 8’s recovery in the Pacific. In the command module, Borman, Lovell, and Anders were still strapped in their seats, covered in Borman’s vomit, and even some garbage from the cabin. Ironically, only now it was growing hot inside the cabin, probably from the retained heat on the exterior sizzling the water on which the command module bobbed; thankfully, the temperature subsided soon.
At Mission Control as applause broke out, a fifteen foot long US flag was unfurled, covering the giant wall map that had been used for the mission. All three flight shifts were present to experience the moment of Apollo 8’s recovery in the Pacific. In the command module, Borman, Lovell, and Anders were still strapped in their seats, covered in Borman’s vomit, and even some garbage from the cabin. Ironically, only now it was growing hot inside the cabin, probably from the retained heat on the exterior sizzling the water on which the command module bobbed; thankfully, the temperature subsided soon.
The astronauts worked to unstrap themselves while the helicopters circled above. The Navy wanted to get going with the rescue, but NASA’s procedure was to wait until the break of dawn and the onset of natural light, which meant that the crew had to wait another 45 minutes. Just before first light, Navy Frogmen (eventually called Seals) entered the water and attached an inflatable collar to the spacecraft to further stabilize it as well as to provide a platform on which to step and work. As daylight broke, one of the three Frogmen opened the hatch and looked into the cabin, and he immediately recoiled from the smell of the vomit, and no doubt other odors as well. All three astronauts were assisted out of the command module onto the platform, and the smell of fresh air for the first time in about a week was pure nectar for the crew.
A helicopter dropped a life raft in the water, and one-by-one the astronauts climbed into the raft, and then a helicopter lowered a basket-shaped net for the crew. One astronaut at a time was hoisted into the chopper, with Anders the last one up, and they were flown to the USS Yorktown. Before the mission, Borman had asked that he be able to arrive on the carrier clean-shaven, and in the helicopter he was given an electric razor. No shaving was allowed during the mission in the command module, since there was no way to keep the cabin clear of razor stubble floating in zero gravity.
A helicopter dropped a life raft in the water, and one-by-one the astronauts climbed into the raft, and then a helicopter lowered a basket-shaped net for the crew. One astronaut at a time was hoisted into the chopper, with Anders the last one up, and they were flown to the USS Yorktown. Before the mission, Borman had asked that he be able to arrive on the carrier clean-shaven, and in the helicopter he was given an electric razor. No shaving was allowed during the mission in the command module, since there was no way to keep the cabin clear of razor stubble floating in zero gravity.
After the helicopter landed on the USS Yorktown, a red carpet rolled from the chopper’s hatch, and the astronauts exited, with Borman going first, Lovell second, and then Anders. All three astronauts smiled and waved, overwhelmed by the hundreds of Navy men on the deck applauding and cheering. After the Yorktown’s commander welcomed and congratulated the crew, Borman addressed the ship, giving a short and very appreciative speech while millions watched him on television. The astronauts were led across the flight deck to an elevator, which took them to the hangar deck, and then they went to the sick bay for a medical evaluation.
Anders wasn’t in the mood for a medical inspection, in that he had been able to avoid defecating during the mission due to the low residue diet that was recommended by NASA, but now he badly needed to drop some friends off at the pool, so to speak. Anders located a bathroom just in time, and as nature had its way, there was a pounding on the bathroom door, and a loud voice telling him that he had only five minutes until President Lyndon Johnson was on the phone to congratulate all three astronauts. Anders said “Tell him I’m on the toilet and I’m not going”.
Very shortly thereafter, a ship’s doctor came to Anders with a portable telephone line, and Borman and Lovell picked up their phones on an extension in sick bay. LBJ spoke to the astronauts, and Borman in particular was pleased, in that the phone call with the President put the cherry on top of his goal to beat the USSR in the Space Race.
Anders wasn’t in the mood for a medical inspection, in that he had been able to avoid defecating during the mission due to the low residue diet that was recommended by NASA, but now he badly needed to drop some friends off at the pool, so to speak. Anders located a bathroom just in time, and as nature had its way, there was a pounding on the bathroom door, and a loud voice telling him that he had only five minutes until President Lyndon Johnson was on the phone to congratulate all three astronauts. Anders said “Tell him I’m on the toilet and I’m not going”.
Very shortly thereafter, a ship’s doctor came to Anders with a portable telephone line, and Borman and Lovell picked up their phones on an extension in sick bay. LBJ spoke to the astronauts, and Borman in particular was pleased, in that the phone call with the President put the cherry on top of his goal to beat the USSR in the Space Race.
After the phone call with LBJ, doctors, researchers, and medical technicians inspected all three astronauts, making sure all was well. The crew all had blood tests, as well as visiting with a psychiatrist that was looking for signs of any problems from their journey to space and back. Other than some stiff legs, all three checked out just fine. After the medical checks, the astronauts were able to call their wives, and then they went back to the flight deck to thank the crew of the USS Yorktown, and especially the three Frogmen. Borman, Lovell, and Anders had dinner with the Yorktown commander that night, dining on lobster tails and roast beef. Afterwards, all three slept in real beds with clean sheets for the first time in more than a week.
On 28 December 1968, the three astronauts boarded a carrier plane and flew to Hickam air base in Hawaii, and from there they transferred to a C-141 transport plane to fly to Houston, which would take more than eight hours. The plane arrived at Ellington Air Force Base at 2 am on 29 December 1968, and hundreds of NASA personnel were waiting to greet the astronauts. All three were clean-shaven and dressed in blue coveralls wearing baseball caps. All three found their wives and kids, and all three, using a microphone, thanked the crowd, and after that, finally, the astronauts drove away with their families.
In the days that followed, newspaper editorials lauded NASA and the crew of Apollo 8. Time magazine rushed to change its cover for Man of the Year from “The Dissenter” to “Astronauts Anders, Borman, and Lovell”. Telegrams poured in by the thousands, but one stood out from all the others. That anonymous telegram was selected by someone at NASA to show the astronauts, and it read: “THANKS. YOU SAVED 1968”.
On 28 December 1968, the three astronauts boarded a carrier plane and flew to Hickam air base in Hawaii, and from there they transferred to a C-141 transport plane to fly to Houston, which would take more than eight hours. The plane arrived at Ellington Air Force Base at 2 am on 29 December 1968, and hundreds of NASA personnel were waiting to greet the astronauts. All three were clean-shaven and dressed in blue coveralls wearing baseball caps. All three found their wives and kids, and all three, using a microphone, thanked the crowd, and after that, finally, the astronauts drove away with their families.
In the days that followed, newspaper editorials lauded NASA and the crew of Apollo 8. Time magazine rushed to change its cover for Man of the Year from “The Dissenter” to “Astronauts Anders, Borman, and Lovell”. Telegrams poured in by the thousands, but one stood out from all the others. That anonymous telegram was selected by someone at NASA to show the astronauts, and it read: “THANKS. YOU SAVED 1968”.