A FATAL FIRE

By late January 1967, despite a variety of frustrating problems with their spacecraft and its systems, the three astronauts were fully trained and ready to fly on the Earth­orbiting test flight of a spacecraft that, with modifications, would one day carry three American astronauts to the Moon. As professional test pilots they were aware of the dangers they faced. During a 1966 address to the Associated Press, Grissom openly discussed his feelings on those dangers. “If we die,” he stressed, “we want people to accept it. We are in a risky business and we hope that if anything happens to us, it will not delay the program. The conquest of space is worth the risk of life.”12

Grissom’s words would prove sadly prophetic, and came tragically true during a mated test of the Apollo spacecraft and Saturn IB rocket on 27 January.

Three critical objectives had to be met before the scheduled launch of Apollo 204 on 21 February 1967. They were a “Plugs Out” test, the Flight Readiness Test, and the Countdown Demonstration Test. The test on Friday, 27 January was the “Plugs Out”. Although the spacecraft cabin would be internally pressurized by 100 percent oxygen, it was not considered a particularly dangerous test of the spacecraft and its systems because the inert Saturn IB rocket was not loaded with fuel. A fuelled test would occur only as the final “wet” mock test immediately preceding the February launch.

On the morning of 27 January, technicians at KSC and MSC began the well – rehearsed task of checking the spacecraft systems for the test. By this time the space­craft had undergone 20 weeks of tests and checkout at the Downey plant in California, plus an additional 21 weeks of checks and modifications at the Cape.

At 7:42 a. m. on that fateful day, technicians began powering up the spacecraft, sending electric current surging through nearly 30 miles of wiring coiled in thick bundles around the floor of the spacecraft and through enclosed recesses above and below the three contoured couches the astronauts would occupy. After lunch, once all was in readiness, the crew was driven by van to the launch pad and made their way up to the spacecraft level on the massive gantry, ready for a long afternoon of checks and tests. Once inserted into their respective couches they plugged into the spacecraft’s communications and oxygen systems. It was now 1:19 p. m. The pad technicians then sealed the capsule’s pressure vessel inner hatch which, unlike the outward-opening hatches used during Mercury and Gemini, opened inwards above Ed White’s head. Once it had been secured, the hatch was held in place and sealed by a series of clamps. Next the technicians secured the much heavier, cumbersome outer crew access hatch. To complete the process, they locked the fiberglass-and-cork booster protection cap in place.

To exit the spacecraft, extensive ratcheting of the inner hatch by a torque wrench was required in order to retract six dog-leg locking bars. At the same time, the cabin pressure had to be reduced by operating a purge valve, which would then allow the hatch to be opened inwards, in much the same manner as a modern airliner. Once the hatch had been hauled into the cabin, White could then operate a quick-release mecha­nism that unlocked the outer hatch.

Initiating the day’s test, the crew, now strapped and plugged in, began to purge their spacesuits and the spacecraft of all gases except oxygen. The cabin was to be

pressurized above ambient in order to simulate normal flight conditions and ensure no contamination from outside. This involved raising the cabin pressure to 16.7 psi (pounds per square inch) of pure oxygen.

As the astronauts worked their way through a series of checklists, their irritation – particularly in the case of Grissom – grew as minor glitches disrupted the check-out sequence. He then reported a foul odor in the space suit loop, which he described as “a sour smell somewhat like buttermilk.” Adding to their displeasure, the crew had problems trying to communicate with the control center, which extended to include irregular communications between the Operations and Checkout Building and the blockhouse at Pad 34. Becoming increasingly agitated, Grissom reached the point where he vented his frustration. “How the hell can you expect us to get to the Moon if you people can’t hook us up with a ground station?” he growled at one point. “Get with it out there!”

At 6:20 p. m., during another in a series of holds, there is evidence to suggest that Grissom decided to do something about the communications problem without telling the control center. He unbuckled his seat harness and disconnected his cobra cable in an attempt to check connections below his feet. The cobra cable was a multi-wired communication cable within a sheath which connected each of the three astronauts to the instrument panel. Further evidence indicates that he then eased himself down into the cramped lower equipment bay under the feet of White and Chaffee in order to swap the cable with another. An electrocardiogram reading at this time indicates he was engaged in some form of mild activity, possibly with the assistance of White, who could be seen on television monitors removing his glove. Brushing and tapping noises could be heard from within the spacecraft. The cable would later be found in a discon­nected state, which could not have happened by accident.

At 6:30:55 p. m., something happened inside Spacecraft 012. Ground instruments monitoring the command module’s systems and environment unexpectedly recorded a two-and-a-half-second interruption of power on an alternating current bus. At the same time, other monitors showed a sudden spike in the oxygen flow into the men’s space suits. White’s heart and respiration rates suddenly shot up. It seemed that a brief electrical arc suddenly flared between two bare segments of wire, believed to have been in a panel below the left-hand side of Grissom’s couch and far removed from where he had been working on the cable.

Nine seconds later, flames appeared inside the spacecraft. Grissom yelled out what sounded like “Hey!” He scrambled up and knelt on his couch, banging his helmet hard on the upper instrument panel, leaving deep gouges in the top of the helmet. By now, clear oxygen-fed flames were sweeping up the inside wall of the cabin. Chaffee’s voice suddenly broke through on the intercom, saying, “Fire – I smell fire.” At 6:31:06, White’s voice, this time far more terrifying, was heard to call, “Fire in the cockpit!” At this point he disconnected his oxygen inlet hose in order to do battle with the inner hatch release.

With everything in the cabin saturated with pure oxygen at high pressure, the fire rapidly consumed a host of combustible materials. Meanwhile the pressure had risen alarmingly and the crew was frantically going through their initial evacuation drills.

Chaffee turned up the lights and opened communication links. Ten seconds later he yelled in despair, “We’ve got a bad fire – let’s get out – let’s open her up!”