Moon Lander: How We Developed the Apollo Lunar Module by Thomas J. Kelly Read Free Book Online

briefings went on all morning, with questioning and discussion by the NASA people and steadily growing attendance. I felt that we made a strong case for LOR and showed good understanding of the principal problems and tradeoffs involved in the design of the lunar lander. When we spilled out into the hallway at the lunch break, I overheard Gilruth tell Faget, “I think you should show them everything we’ve done.”
    After lunch in the building’s cafeteria, Faget told us they were impressed with our results, which seemed to match NASA’s own internal study findings.He proposed that they show us their results and compare them with ours. For the next three hours we held detailed engineer-to-engineer discussions on the merits of LOR versus the competing approaches: direct ascent and Earth-orbit rendezvous (EOR).
    We also looked at NASA’s designs for the lander, which they were calling the lunar excursion module, or LEM. 4 Of particular interest were comparisons of configurations and equipment arrangements and weight estimates for the NASA and Grumman versions. There were novel features of each group’s designs, but the total weight estimates were approximately the same. Gilruth and Faget said that they believed LOR was the approach NASA should select for the Apollo mission, although this opinion was still not prevalent among NASA management. 5 They thought we had made a good start with our LM designs and encouraged us to pursue them further in anticipation of a possible industry competition.
    On the return flight we were buzzing with excitement. Hope was reborn! Gavin asked me to prepare a study plan and budget request for the next year, aimed at positioning us to bid as prime contractor on the LM. I bounded off the plane in Bethpage refreshed with the prospect of a marvelous new challenge.
    The twelfth of December was a miserable morning, with a raw, gusty wind driving a steady rain. I felt chilled just walking from the parking lot into the front lobby of Plant 5, and I climbed up the stairs shivering. I had decided to attend the weekly meeting of the Propulsion Section on the main Engineering floor. It was a way to keep in touch with my other Grumman “home,” a good idea with my prospects in space looking so shaky.
    I was early, alone in the Propulsion area, just a few people streaming across the main bullpen. As I sat debating whether to go downstairs and pick up some coffee, a telephone at a nearby desk rang insistently.
    A barely audible woman’s voice said, “Hello, is this … is this Grumman?”
    I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise.
    “I just wanted you to know … to know that Tom Sanial was killed … in an auto accident this morning.”
    “What? What? Who is this?”
    She was sobbing. “A neighbor. Just a neighbor. I’m so sorry. So very sorry. I must call others now. Goodbye.”
    I stared unseeing at the telephone in my hands. A few minutes later I walked to Joe Gavin’s office, blurted out the gist of the call, and burst into tears myself.
    Sanial’s loss deprived us of his extensive Apollo knowledge and background at a critical time in Grumman’s efforts. Others in our study team rose to provide the systems design integration talent for which we had relied on Sanial. The cruel but practical lesson was that in a big company, no one is indispensable.
    On every raw, rainy December day, I think of the immense promise and goodness that was snuffed out so senselessly, and wonder at the implacable role that fate and chance plays in our lives. And I miss that sweet, gentle man who surely would have shared with me one of mankind’s greatest adventures.

Getting into Position
    The company authorized fifty people to study LOR and the LM for a year. Joe Gavin headed the project, and I led the technical study. We received major assistance from the Radio Corporation of America (RCA), which provided a sizable engineering team to support our studies at their own expense. RCA was responsible for