quickly admitted, had as yet no official standing.” That was probably the understatement of that year.
Eisenhower may have supported unmanned scientific and military reconnaissance satellites, but he only grudgingly approved Project Mercury and refused to back any post-Mercury plans until an ad hoc panel of science advisers assessed NASA’s future goals for cost-effectiveness. The committee concluded that a manned lunar landing would cost almost $40 billion. Ike was outraged and demanded to know why America should undertake such an expense. When a staff man compared the proposed lunar mission to Columbus’s voyage to the New World, Eisenhower noted that Queen Isabella of Spain had raided the royal treasury for that adventure, but he was “not about to hock his jewels” to put Americans on the moon. When another adviser suggested the lunar flight was actually just the first step toward manned exploration of the planets, the cabinet room rang with scornful laughter. NASA planners realized that they would have to look to the next administration for a more ambitious American space program.
Soviet test disasters
The countdown reached zero and the ignition signal was transmitted. But the clustered booster engines failed to ignite, possibly because of an electronic fault in the massive rocket’s first stage. Korolev issued the proper “safing” commands, which disabled the booster’s main electrical systems. Under normal circumstances, the rocket would be drained of fuel, tested for malfunctions, and refueled for the next launch attempt: this could take weeks, but Marshal Nedelin could not accept this delay. He desperately needed a success, or he would face Khrushchev’s wrath. Nedelin led a team of engineers from the blockhouse to the launch pad to inspect the rocket.
Korolev wisely stayed sheltered within the thick concrete walls of the launch bunker, a safe distance from the pad.
As Khrushchev later recalled in his memoirs, “The rocket reared up and fell, throwing acid and flames all over the place… Dozens of soldiers, specialists, and technical personnel…” died in the disaster. “Nedelin was sitting nearby watching the test when the missile malfunctioned, and he was killed.”
It was not until December 1960 that a successful test of the Mercury Redstone (M-R 1) was achieved. After his election, President Kennedy delegated space affairs to his Vice-President Lyndon Johnson. M-R 2 carried a chimpanzee named Ham. It produced unexpectedly high thrust. It landed down range having pulled 15g on reentry. The next launch was delayed until April.
Voskhod 2: the first space walk
With a light push he moved away from the spacecraft and first glanced down at the Earth, which seemed to move slowly past. Despite the thick glass of his helmet, he could see clouds to the right, the Black Sea below his feet, the Bay of Novorossysk, and beyond the coastline, the mountain chain of the Caucasus.
Pulling gently on his tether, he began to draw himself back to the spacecraft, then, pushing off again and turning around he moved slowly away again. He could see both the steady brilliance of the stars scattered over a background of black velvet, and at the same time the surface of the Earth. He could make out the Volga River, the snowy line of the Ural Mountains, and the great Siberian rivers Obi and Yenisei. He felt he was looking down on a great coloured map. The sun shone brilliantly in the black sky, and he could feel its warmth on his face through the visor.
He felt so good he had not the least desire to return back on board, and even after he was told to get back in he floated away once more.
However, when Leonov did try to return to the airlock after a few minutes he was horrified to find he could not pass through the outer hatch as his suit had ballooned out from the internal pressure.
What to do? Here he was floating along, looking down 161 kilometres to the Earth below, trapped out in space in his space-suit – and nobody around able to help! Belyayev was helpless inside the spacecraft, only able to listen to his mate grunting with the exertion of fighting for his life. As there was only one spacewalking suit there was nothing he could do.
After a few minutes struggling desperately to wriggle into the airlock, with his pulse soaring to 168, Leonov tried letting the pressure of his suit drop down, but that didn’t work. Desperate now, he tried again and brought it down to 26.2 kPa. Too sudden a drop, or more than a few minutes of high exertion at this pressure would have brought on a painful and probably fatal attack of the bends, but if he couldn’t return to the cabin he would soon be dead anyway. With his suit now more flexible, he hooked his feet on the airlock edge and with the urgent desperation of a doomed man, elbowed and fought his way back in to the safety of the airlock. Leonov was out of the cabin for 23 minutes 41 seconds, 12 minutes 9 seconds of it outside the airlock. Belyayev reported that