Months earlier, Tom had made the decision he would take control from the computer at the 500-foot level. Though no one at NASA knew his plan, his copilot did. Both agreed not to leave their fate in the hands of a “blind” machine. It wasn’t that he didn’t think the computer could land their spacecraft, he just felt he was the better pilot. The way he saw it, he was in his position because of his flying skills, so why waste those God-given human talents here, over 200,000 miles away from home? Below his feet was the world’s first throttleable rocket engine that even allowed for hovering. No way was some computer going to have all the fun.
“Explorer, Houston. You are Go for PDI.”
Being cleared for Power Descent Initiation, Tom switched from the push-to-talk mode to the voice-activated mode, allowing mission control to hear everything he and Dusty said. “Roger, Houston. Go for PDI.” Tom flipped switches to arm the descent engine before giving Dusty the signal. The LMP nodded as he pushed in the proceed button.
Due to the initial low thrust, there was no obvious sign that the engine had ignited. Only the control panel in front of Tom confirmed the startup. “Ignition,” he said, adrenaline flowing.
It took less than forty seconds for the engine to ramp up to full power. At that point the cabin vibrated from the rumbling engine, and the LM started to slow, allowing the moon’s gravity to grab the ship and pull it down.
Dusty called out, “H-dot about 15 high.”
Dusty was reporting that their trajectory was a little high. Through years of training in the simulator together, both men had agreed everything inside the cockpit was for Dusty. He was to feed Tom all the necessary data observed from the instrument panel so Tom could keep his hands on the controls and make any adjustments needed without looking away from the window. Though this wasn’t critical at this juncture of the flight, it would be paramount during the last 5,000-foot drop. “Roger.”
Soon the engine automatically throttled down as they continued the braking. At the 40,000-foot level, Tom flipped the spacecraft completely over, windows up, pointing the landing radar down toward the lunar surface. The astronaut’s backs were now to the moon. All they saw out their windows was the darkness of space. This maneuver allowed the radar to determine their attitude. Once Dusty keyed in the appropriate codes, the computer started to accept the radar readings. Small thrusters stationed all around the ship came to life as the computer activated them to adjust the ship’s trajectory per the information it received from the radar. The ship shuddered from these corrective jet bursts, causing a bumpy ride.
Tom gripped a handhold, studying the instrument panel, confirming the computer was doing its job. All looked good. “Houston, Explorer. Altitude light out, velocity light out.” Tom informed mission control that the radar was on and working. A burst of color began to slowly creep into his window. The only color in deep space was Earth, which caught him by surprise. The fact that his home planet would be visible at this point of the descent was never discussed in any preflight meeting. He took it as a good omen, blowing a quick kiss in its direction.
THE GUESTS WERE crammed in both the living room and the adjoining dining room of the Novak home. With no television network breaking into their regularly scheduled programming to cover the Apollo 16 landing, Anne had the TV volume turned down low. Instead, the squawk box kept everyone abreast of exactly what was happening. Anne listened intently, especially whenever her husband spoke, trying to get any indication that something could be going wrong.
With the minute-by-minute flight plan spread out all over the dining room table, Anne relied on David to answer any of her questions. She stood next to the former moonwalker, pleased he wasn’t needed at mission control until Tom ventured out of the spacecraft.
David pointed to a timeline on the flight plan. “They’re approaching the point of Pitch-over.”
Leaning over the table, David picked up the silver and gold Lunar Module model. “Let me show you what Tom is preparing to do.”
David pretended the table was the lunar surface and lifted the model a few feet up, positioning it on its side. He then slowly moved it across the table. “He is flying the LM like this and will gradually pitch it up like so.” He rotated the ship slightly up so the four legs angled down toward the table with the windows facing in the direction they were going. “The LM will be in this slanted position so the engine can control their horizontal speed and ensure they don’t drop too fast.”
Anne stared at the spidery-looking model, still astounded such a weird-looking spacecraft could actually fly. She stared at the small window, imagining Tom peering out with determination on his face.
David looked at those who were listening. “This is the moment where Tom will show us his pilot skills.”
Anne took that to mean her husband was approaching a dangerous part of the descent. She felt an arm drape around her shoulder. She turned and saw Tom’s dad, Hank, wearing a fearless grin.
“Don’t worry, dear. Tom can fly anything. I betcha he does a pinpoint landing. The best one yet on the moon.”
25
SHOWTIME
There was a rush of activity taking place within the cockpit of Explorer as the spacecraft raced toward the unforgiving lunar surface at more than a hundred feet per second. Tom and Dusty were preparing for Pitch-over, the moment of truth for the commander. In anticipation of the maneuver, Tom took a second to loosen his grip on the hand controllers. He wiggled his fingers like a gunslinger getting ready for battle. This was why he signed up for the program. He was about to join one of the most exclusive clubs in the universe.
During private meetings with past Apollo commanders in preparation for the landing, Tom found many had an air of arrogance regarding another commander joining their group. Though all astronauts were basically a bunch of alpha males, commanders were unmistakably the leaders of the pack. Each one of these men felt he was the best pilot, hands down, no question, especially the Navy men with their carrier backgrounds. Though Tom respected them all, he was just as good and was ready to prove he belonged in the club.
As programed, the Lunar Module pitched over at the 7,500-foot mark, giving Tom his first glimpse of the moon’s horizon. Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he scanned the tapestry of craters in a mad search to locate their expected landmarks. The lack of shadows in the shallow craters made it difficult to determine their position. Tom had little time to waste. In less than four minutes he had to have them safely on the ground before running out of fuel.
Tom’s pilot training kicked in, and in his heightened state, he sensed time stretching, slowing things down. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a large mountain range appear, dwarfing their spacecraft. In all their simulations, they had never been provided with any side views. The fact that they were zooming across the face of a huge mountain gave Tom the sensation he was truly flying. The sudden spike in his heart rate probably worried mission control, but he was just excited.