“Getting some dust here,” Aldrin comments. “Contact light.”
A metal probe hanging under the bottom of the lander’s footpads has just grazed the Moon, the first ever touch of a manned spacecraft visiting another heavenly body.
“Engine stop,” Aldrin says, as the full weight of Eagle crunches to the ground.
The lunar landing craft rumbles to a halt, very slightly tilted backwards, but otherwise stable on the ground. Silence on board. Silence on the Moon. A long pause in Mission Control.
The astronauts shake hands.
“Houston, Tranquillity Base here,” Neil Armstrong states, composing himself, his every word crackling across the miles of space on radio transmission waves, “The Eagle has landed.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
AS THE LUNAR lander’s engine shuts off, Armstrong sees something highly unusual. Lunar dust, stirred up by Eagle, flies off in an instantaneous diffusion, appearing to vanish instantly. The fine dust particles just disappeared in the airless void, as if part of a magic trick.
Neil wonders what kind of world it is out there.
“Roger, Tranquility,” Duke replies, “We copy you on the ground. You’ve got a bunch of guys about to turn blue. We’re breathing again.”
After these words, all hell breaks out in Mission Control. There are cheers, shouts, handshakes, backslaps, flags waving, tears shed. But then Gene Kranz calls a halt to the celebrations at Mission Control.
“Back to your consoles, please!” he yells above the pandemonium, his crew-cut head glistening with perspiration, his cheeks flushed.
The job isn’t yet done.
Eagle stands alone on the Moon, a monument to ingenuity. Inside its small cockpit, Armstrong and Aldrin begin to believe. The monochrome world outside looks like it needs some good old fashioned human adventure to spice things up.
Through the windows of the Eagle, space looks black above them. The surface below is illuminated and looks more tan coloured than grey, while sections in shadow are very dark. In direct sunlight, there are some sections of glistening brilliance. Further away, the lunar horizon seems close.
Over 450 million people on Earth are watching the spacemen.
Inside the strange space vessel, Armstrong reflects on how far human flight has progressed. In the cabin of Eagle itself are small pieces of the original Wright Flyer ‘Kitty Hawk’, part of the left propeller and fabric from the upper left wing. Part of the airplane which had made the first powered human flight on December 17, 1903, is with them! Within a sixty-six year time span, aviation has accelerated its power from conquering the air to a successful invasion of outer space.
Earth is rising. Mankind is rising.
Armstrong and Aldrin don’t have much time for contemplation, however, as there’s a long checklist of preparatory activities on their flight plan.
The Commander now has to compose what he’s going to say as he steps onto the Moon. He’ll make it short and sweet, but telling. He was never absolutely certain they would make it this far so he hasn’t yet decided what he’s going to say.
He knows he’s just the last link in a long chain of events, systems and people stretching back to Mission Control and, beyond that, back to the dream of President Kennedy to carry out a human conquest of the Moon. He realises the achievement represents a kind of global redemption for his nation, too.
Armstrong had always thought the descent to the Moon was going to be the hardest part of the mission.
Outside, the craters around vary in diameter from less than a foot to about one hundred feet. The ground seems to be composed of very fine silt. There are numerous rocks of all sizes but no big boulders in the immediate vicinity. However, to their right, pointing north, a few hundred feet away, they can see another large boulder field.
Without any atmosphere, they see a world of sharp contrasts, producing unusual light effects.
“This is the LM pilot,” Aldrin radioes, while deploying the sacrament of holy communion. “I’d like to take this opportunity to ask every person listening in, whoever and wherever they may be, to pause for a moment and contemplate the events of the past few hours and to give thanks in his or her own way. Over.”
Buzz wants to express his gratitude for their safe landing.
“Roger, Tranquility Base.”
Then the astronauts take about two hours to complete preparations for their EVA on the Moon.
On the top of their backpacks, they each have a foot-long flat-wire antenna. They have a pair of mikes, called communication carriers, fitted to their “Snoopy” caps under their helmets. A checklist has been sewn to the gauntlet of their left gloves to remind them of all their tasks.
They’re ready to explore and experience the low gravity environment, silent and enduring under the endless glare of sunlight.
“Neil, this is Houston,” McCandless, the new CAPCOM, says. “What’s your status on hatch opening? Over.”
“Everything’s Go here. We’re just waiting for the cabin pressure to bleed so…To blow enough pressure to open the hatch.”
Then, as the Eagle’s hatch opens inwards, and breaks its seal, tiny particles of ice crystals form as moist cabin air hits the Moon’s vacuum.
“Okay. About ready to go down and get some moon rock?” Aldrin asks, cheerfully.
“Now we’re ready to hook up the LEC here,” Armstrong replies.
He’s referring to the Lunar Equipment Conveyor. It’s a long nylon strap with a hook at each end, one end clipped to the cabin ceiling, and the other fastened to the front of his spacesuit. It’ll be used as a pulley for carrying equipment back and forth from the Lunar Module.
After getting through the lunar lander’s forward hatch, Armstrong goes out onto the ladder. He slowly goes down towards the platform. He drops the bag containing empty food bags, and other things the astronauts no longer need, to the surface.
“Okay. Houston, I’m on the porch,” he says. “Radio check.”
“Neil, this is Houston. Loud and clear. Buzz, this is Houston. Radio check, and verify TV circuit breaker in.”
“Roger, TV circuit breaker’s in,” Aldrin confirms. “And read you loud and clear.”
“And we’re getting a picture on the TV.”
“I’m at the foot of the ladder. The LM footpads are only depressed in the surface about one or two inches, although the surface appears to be very, very fine grained, as you get close to it. It’s almost like a powder. I’m going to step off the LM now.”
The Commander steps down with his left foot, still holding the ladder with his outstretched right hand. He stands on the edge of the big dish around Eagle’s front leg.
Far away in Mission Control, Chris Kraft wonders what the secretive Armstrong will say, the first words spoken by a human standing on the surface of another celestial body.
“Okay, I’m going to step off the LM now,” he radioes to a spellbound audience.
He touches the surface with his left boot, entering an empty, pristine world. Then he lets go of the ladder as he moves his right leg forward, too, leaving behind the space machine which has carried them there.
“That’s one small step for man; one giant leap for mankind,” Armstrong affirms.
It’s an expression of hope for all.
The man stands alone on the powdery lunar surface. Its aeons of isolation, visited only by meteorites and comets of all shapes and sizes, are over. Poised in outer space, Earth looks like a sparkling, living gem. Technicolor Earth has now been forever connected to the silvery Moon.