edgar-mitchell

58
The Way of the Explorer
struck me. It was no longer a machine, but a living extension of everyone
involved in this mammoth project. When we came to the swing arm leading
to the open hatch, Guenter Wendt and his crew welcomed us and
assisted our entry into the spacecraft, as they had for every launch since
Al’s first flight. Then we became part of its larger anatomy. Our unity was
now whole.
We had arrived at the riskiest part of spaceflight. In the tedious hours
of countdown all systems are painstakingly rechecked for their state of
readiness. Just as the entire process was coming together, the violet shade
of a thunderstorm appeared on the horizon. The radio in the headset came
alive from time to time with local forecasts and personal predictions.
Finally the squall neared, and rain slapped against the flanks of the rocket
while we waited in cramped stillness. Time passed in tiny increments, but
the clouds soon parted around the stack and eased over the sea. A thin
new moon arose as though awaiting our arrival. Following the 40-minute
lull in activity, I heard Al’s voice in the headset call to rouse me; I had
fallen asleep during the wait. We were go for launch.
Again, there was a brief final check to make certain we knew precisely
where we stood now that the storm had passed. The countdown resumed;
the numbers tumbled toward zero. This time there was renewed tension,
the air about this familiar environment possessed an unbearable tautness. I
could hear my heart laboring against the hectic activity of electronic voices
in the headset. Upon this stack of metal and fuel sat a tiny pod containing
human cargo. Soon the machine would come alive with a kinetic violence
unlike anything any of us had ever experienced. A million gallons of fuel
would ignite. A lurch, a violent vibration, a rush. Then three human beings
would leave this world.
Yet these were thoughts and emotions that had to be suppressed as
launch communications kept cadence for the final bit of countdown. As
the rockets ignited, there was a gentle rumble. Then the seats began to
shake as the engines brought their immense fury to bear. There was no
mistake to be made; we were three men leaving the home planet.