PRESS CONFERENCE

Although the astronauts were at home for the holiday weekend, Saturday, 5 July, was devoted to the media. It started with a press conference in the auditorium at the Manned Spacecraft Center. As the astronauts were in their 21-day prelaunch flight crew health stabilisation program, workmen had spent two days assembling a three­sided roofed-over box with a 12-foot-square base utilising 10-foot-tall transparent panels and fitted with fans to blow air outwards; smoke tests having been made to verify this forced ventilation. After Brian Duff, the Public Affairs Officer, had explained to the members of the press – many of whom represented foreign media – the requirement for the special precautions, the astronauts made their entrance wearing rubber masks. At that point, some of the local press, who had been alerted and had purchased surgical masks, donned up to poke fun. Once in the isolation area, the astronauts removed their masks and sat behind a large desk adorned with NASA’s ‘meatball’ insignia and, now being revealed, the mission patch. A large Stars and Stripes formed the backdrop.

As mission commander, Armstrong spoke first. He reminded everybody that Apollo 11 would not have been possible without the achievements of the previous crews and of all the ground staff who assisted. Then Collins talked about how he would look after the CSM while his colleagues were on the lunar surface. Aldrin described how the descent would be conducted. There were then press questions, most of which were either directed at, or picked up by, Armstrong – although in some cases after he had said what he intended to say he invited one or other of his

Return to Earth, by Buzz Aldrin with Wayne Warga. Bantam Press, p. 213, 1974.

colleagues to continue the theme. After it was revealed that the radio call signs for the CSM and LM would be ‘Columbia’ and ‘Eagle’ respectively, Armstrong was asked whether he knew what he would say on stepping onto the lunar surface, and he replied that he had not yet decided. He did say that they intended to introduce an unofficial name for the landing site, but did not announce what this would be. When a foreign reporter asked about the plan to raise the Stars and Stripes on the lunar surface, he explained that Congress had directed that this be done. After the plaque that was to be affixed to the leg of the LM had been revealed, he pointed out, as the wording on the plaque proclaimed, that the landing was to be done for all mankind – the United States was not making a territorial claim on the Moon. Asked about the purpose of the mission, he explained that the primary objective was to demonstrate that it was possible to fly to the Moon, land, lift off and return safely to Earth – as President Kennedy had directed. When asked what would happen if the LM became stranded on the surface, he said that they would have supplies for a day or so, after which Collins would have no option but to return home alone. Asked what would be the most dangerous part of the flight, Collins replied, truthfully – though some took his remark to be flippant – that this would be the part they had overlooked in their preparations. As he would later explain, ‘‘In a test pilot’s world, boring is good because it means that you have not been surprised, that your planning has been precise, and your expectations matched; conversely, excitement means surprise, and that is generally bad.’’ Armstrong pointed out that as a result of Apollo 10 in particular, theirs would not be a mission into the unknown; only the act of landing would be new.

However, the press did not want to know about the technological challenge, they wanted to know how the astronauts felt about the mission.

Although, as George Low had surmised, the public expected its heroes to be cast from the same mould as Charles Lindbergh, attempts to coax the astronauts into a discussion of the philosophical implications of the mission were fruitless. Armstrong, Collins and Aldrin, all of whom were 38 years old, were less voluble in temperament than previous crews. Armstrong was one of the most taciturn of the astronauts, and shunned publicity. Aldrin was only marginally less reserved. Only Collins opened up to the reporters, but he was not to attempt the landing. As he would later point out, the task of a test pilot was to remember every aspect of a machine’s behaviour, and hence he was trained to suppress his emotions lest these should interfere with a cold dispassionate analysis. If NASA wished its astronauts to emote (as the vernacular had it) it should form a crew comprising a philosopher, a priest and a poet; not three test pilots. On the other hand, such a crew would be unlikely to return to give a press conference because, having emoted all the way out and back, they would probably neglect to insert the circuit breaker to enable the parachutes to deploy. Nevertheless, Armstrong was not without humour. Asked what he would most like to take with him to the Moon, he replied, ‘‘More fuel.’’

The main conference was followed by another for the wire services, one for the magazines and filmed interviews with each television network – it was a long day. As for biological isolation, the crew were directed to leave, without masks, by the corridor through which the world’s press had departed! They then went home to spend the rest of the weekend with their families. Furthermore, at the Cape they were in routine contact with secretarial staff, caretakers, suit technicians and simulator engineers. Collins would later compare flight surgeons to nervous old ladies who were convinced that their houses were haunted.