The mission of Liberty Bell 7 was
basically a repeat of Freedom 7 with the objective of
corroborating the man-in-space concept. The notable
improvements were a large viewing window, hand controls,
and an explosively actuated side escape hatch which almost
proved disastrous. While in the ocean off the Bahamas
waiting to be picked up, the side hatch blew, causing the
capsule to fill with water and sink, almost taking the
Astronaut with it. A soaking wet Gus Grissom was safely
rescued, although the Liberty Bell 7 sank to the bottom
and was lost. Controversy
remains to this day whether Gus blew the hatch prematurely
or it was caused by some other unknown reason.
Among the improvements in spacecraft
No. 11 for MR-4 was the explosive side hatch, which was
requested by the astronaut corps. The original egress
procedure had been to climb out through the antenna
compartment and all of the astronauts found it hard to
snake out the top of the frustum and cylinder.
There were two ways to activate the
explosive egress hatch during recovery. About six to eight
inches from the astronaut's right arm, as he lay in his
couch, was a knobbed plunger. The pilot would remove a pin
and press the plunger with a fist-force of five or six
pounds, detonating the small explosive charge and blasting
the hatch 25 feet away in a second. If the pin was in
place, a fist-force of 40 pounds was required. A rescuer
outside the capsule could blow open the hatch simply by
removing a small panel from the fuselage side and pulling
a lanyard. This complete explosive hatch weighed only 23
pounds.
The welcome new trapezoidal window
assembly on spacecraft No. 11 replaced the two 10-inch
side ports through which Shepard strained to see. The
pilot now could look upward slightly and see directly
outside. Visually the field covered 30 degrees in the
horizontal plane and 33 degrees in the vertical. The outer
pane was made of Vycor glass, .35-inch thick, and could
withstand temperatures on the order of 1500 to 1800
degrees F. Three panels were bonded to make the inner
pane, one a .17-inch- thick sheet of Vycor, the two others
made of tempered glass.
The manual controls for the second
manned flight incorporated the new rate stabilization
control system. With it the astronaut could control the
rate of spacecraft attitude movements by small turns of
his hand controller rather than by jockeying the device to
attain the desired position. This rate damping or rate
augmentation system, like power steering on an automobile,
gave finer and easier handling qualities and another
redundant means of driving the pitch, yaw, and roll
thrusters.
Grissom choose the name Liberty Bell 7
as the most appropriate call-sign for his bell-shaped
capsule, because the name was to Americans almost
synonymous with "freedom" and numerically symbolic of the
continuous teamwork it represented. Someone had done
Grissom the favour of painting a likeness of the crack in
the original Liberty Bell on spacecraft No. 11.
Modifications made on Grissom's
pressure suit reflected the experiences of Shepard's
flight. Nylon-sealed ball-bearing rings were fitted at the
glove connections to allow full rotation of the wrists
while the suit was pressurized. On the chest of Grissom's
suit was a convex mirror, called a "hero's medal" by the
astronaut corps, that served simply to allow the
pilot-observer camera to photograph instrument readings.
Another welcome addition to the suit was a urine
reservoir, fabricated the day before the flight. Although
during his flight Grissom would find the contraption
somewhat binding, it did work. Lastly, Grissom's helmet
was equipped with new microphones that promised to filter
out more noise and make transmission quality even better.
Grissom's flight plan was revised
rapidly and altered substantially as a result of MR-3.
Shepard had really been overloaded with activities during
his five minutes of weightlessness. Now Grissom was given
a chance to look through his new trapezoidal window to
learn more about man's visual abilities in space. If he
could recognize landmarks for flight reference, the pilot
tasks for the Mercury orbital flights might be
considerably simplified. Shepard had assumed manual
control of only one axis of movement - yaw, pitch, or roll
- at a time, whereas Grissom had instructions to assume
complete manual control as soon as he could, to make three
manoeuvres in about one minute instead of Shepard's 12
minutes, and then to spend as much time as possible making
exterior observations.
Grissom was calm, and poised as he
entered Liberty Bell 7. The count proceeded smoothly until
45 minutes before launch time, when a gantry technician
discovered that one of the 70 hatch bolts was misaligned.
A 30-minute hold was called, during which the McDonnell
and STG supervisory engineers decided that the remaining
69 bolts were sufficient to hold and blow the hatch, so
the misaligned bolt was not replaced. The countdown was
resumed, but two more holds for minor reasons cost another
hour's wait.
Grissom later admitted at the
post-flight debriefing that he was "a bit scared" at
lift-off, but he added that he soon gained confidence
along with the g build-up. Hearing the engine roar at the
pedestal, he thought that his elapsed-time clock had
started late. Like Shepard, he was amazed at the smooth
quality of the lift-off, but then he noticed gradually
more severe vibrations, never violent enough to impair his
vision.
At two minutes and 22 seconds after
launch, the Redstone's Rocketdyne engine cut off after
building a velocity of 6561 feet per second. Grissom had a
strong sensation of tumbling during the transition from
high to zero g, and, while he had become familiar with
this sensation in centrifuge training, for a moment he
lost his bearings.
A constant urge to look out the window
made concentrating on his control tasks difficult. He told
Shepard back in Mercury Control that the panorama of
Earth's horizon, presenting an 800-mile arc at peak
altitude, was fascinating. His instruments rated a poor
second to the spectacle below.
Turning reluctantly to his dials and
control stick, Grissom made a pitch movement change but
was past his desired mark. He jockeyed the hand-controller
stick for position, trying to damp out all oscillations,
then made a yaw movement and went too far in that
direction. By the time the proper attitude was attained,
the short time allocated for these manoeuvres had been
used, so he omitted the roll movement altogether. The
manual controls impressed Grissom as very sluggish when
compared to the Mercury procedures trainer. Then he
switched to the new rate command control system and found
perfect response, although fuel consumption was high.
After the pitch and yaw manoeuvres,
Grissom made a roll-over movement so he could see the
ground from his window. Some land beneath the clouds
(later determined to be western Florida around the
Apalachicola area) appeared in the hazy distance, but the
pilot was unable to identify it. Suddenly Cape Canaveral
came into view so clearly that Grissom found it hard to
believe that his slant-range was over 150 miles. He saw
Merritt Island, the Banana River, the Indian River, and
what appeared to be a large airport runway. South of Cape
Canaveral, he saw what he believed to be West Palm Beach.
With Liberty Bell 7 at an altitude of
118.26 miles, it was now time to position the spacecraft
in its re-entry attitude. Grissom had initiated the
retrorocket sequence and the capsule was arcing downward.
His pulse reached 171 beats per minute. Retrofire gave him
the distinct and peculiar feeling that he had reversed his
backward flight through space and was actually moving face
forward. As he plummeted downward, he saw what appeared to
be two of the spent retrorockets pass across the periscope
view after the retrorocket package had been jettisoned.
Re-entry presented no problem.
Condensation and smoke trailed off the heat-shield at
about 65,000 feet as Liberty Bell 7 plunged back into the
atmosphere. The drogue parachute deployed on schedule at
21,000 feet. Main parachute deployment occurred at 12,300
feet, which was about 1,000 feet higher than the design
nominal altitude. Watching the main chute unfurl, Grissom
spotted a six-inch L-shaped tear and another two-inch
puncture in the canopy. Although he worried about them,
the holes grew no bigger and his rate of descent soon
slowed to about 28 feet per second.
A "clunk" confirmed that the landing
bag had dropped in preparation for impact. Grissom then
removed his oxygen hose and opened his visor but
deliberately left the suit ventilation hose attached.
Impact was milder than he had expected, although the
capsule heeled over in the water until Grissom was lying
on his left side. He thought he was facing downward. The
capsule gradually righted itself, and, as the window
cleared the water, Grissom jettisoned the reserve
parachute and activated the rescue aids switch. Liberty
Bell 7 still appeared watertight, although it was rolling
badly with the swells.
Preparing for recovery, he disconnected
his helmet and checked himself for debarkation. The neck
dam did not unroll easily; Grissom tinkered with his suit
collar to ensure his buoyancy if he had to get out of the
spacecraft quickly. Lieutenant James L. Lewis, pilot of
the primary recovery helicopter, radioed Grissom to ask if
he was ready for pickup. He replied that he wanted them to
wait five minutes while he recorded his cockpit panel
data. Using a grease pencil with the pressure suit gloves
was awkward, and several times the suit ventilation caused
the neck dam to balloon, but the pilot simply placed his
finger between neck and dam to allow the air to escape.
After logging the panel data, Grissom
asked the helicopters to begin the approach for pickup. He
removed the pin from the hatch-cover detonator and lay
back in the dry couch. "I was lying there, minding my own
business," he said afterward, "when I heard a dull thud."
The hatch cover blew away, and salt water swished into the
capsule as it bobbed in the ocean. The third man to return
from space was faced with the first serious emergency;
Liberty Bell 7 was shipping water and sinking fast.
Grissom had difficulty recollecting his
actions at this point, but he was certain that he had not
touched the hatch-activation plunger. He doffed his
helmet, grasped the instrument panel with his right hand,
and scurried out the sloshing hatchway. Floating in the
sea, he was thankful that he had unbuckled himself earlier
from most of his harness, including the chest restraints.
Otherwise he might not have been able to abandon ship.
Instead of turning his attention to
Grissom, Lieutenant John Reinhard, co-pilot of the nearest
recovery helicopter, completed his approach to the sinking
spacecraft, as both he and Reinhard were intent on capsule
recovery. This action was a conditioned reflex based on
past training experience. While training off the Virginia
beaches the helicopter pilots had noted that the
astronauts seemed at home in and to enjoy the water. So
Reinhard quickly clipped the high-frequency antenna as
soon as the helicopter reached Liberty Bell 7. Throwing
aside the antenna cutting device, Reinhard picked up the
shepherd's hook recovery pole and carefully threaded the
crook through the recovery loop on top of the capsule. By
this time Lewis had lowered the helicopter to assist
Reinhard in his task to a point that the chopper's three
wheels were in the water. Liberty Bell 7 sank out of
sight, but the pickup pole twanged as the attached cable
went taut, indicating to the helicopter pilots that they
had made their catch.
Reinhard immediately prepared to pass
the floating astronaut the personnel hoist. But at that
moment Lewis called a warning that a detector light had
flashed on the instrument panel, indicating that metal
chips were in the oil sump because of engine strain.
Considering the implication of impending engine failure,
Lewis told Reinhard to retract the personnel hoist while
he called the second chopper to retrieve the pilot.
Meanwhile Grissom, having made certain
that he was not snared by any lines, noticed that the
primary helicopter was having trouble raising the
submerged spacecraft. He swam back to the capsule to see
if he could assist but found the cable properly attached.
When he looked up for the personnel line, he saw the
helicopter start to move away.
Suddenly Grissom realized that he was
not riding as high in the water as he had been. All the
time he had been in the water he kept feeling air escape
through the neck dam. The more air he lost, the less
buoyancy he had. Moreover, he had forgotten to secure his
suit inlet valve. Swimming was becoming difficult, and now
with the second helicopter moving in he found the rotor
wash between the two aircraft was making swimming more
difficult. Bobbing under the waves, Grissom was scared,
angry, and looking for a swimmer from one of the
helicopters to help him tread water.
A "horse-collar" lifeline was tossed to
Grissom, who immediately wrapped himself into the sling
backwards. Lack of orthodoxy mattered little to Grissom
now, for he was on his way to the safety of the
helicopter, even though swells dunked him twice more
before he got aboard. His first thought was to get a life
preserver on. Grissom had been either swimming or floating
for a period of only four or five minutes, "although it
seemed like an eternity to me," as he said afterward.
Obviously one of the major problems to
be explained and resolved following the flight of Liberty
Bell 7 was the malfunction of the explosive egress hatch.
Before the mission, environmental tests were conducted to
qualify the hatch and igniter assembly. Although the tests
had been run with the pin installed, conditions had been
severe. The component had been subjected to low and high
temperature ranges, a 100-g shock force, and salt-spray
and water-immersion tests. After MR-4, the Space Task
Group established a committee that included Astronaut
Schirra to study the hatch problem. Tests were conducted
in an environment even more severe than that used by the
manufacturer, but no premature explosions occurred.
Studies were made of individuals operating the panel
switches on the side nearest the actuator; the clearance
margin appeared to be adequate. According to Schirra,
"There was only a very remote possibility that the plunger
could have been actuated inadvertently by the pilot."
The mystery of Grissom's hatch was
never solved to everyone's satisfaction. Among the
favourite hypotheses were that the exterior lanyard might
have become entangled with the landing bag straps; that
the ring seal might have been omitted on the detonation
plunger, reducing the pressure necessary to actuate it; or
that static electricity generated by the helicopter had
fired the hatch cover. But with the spacecraft and its
onboard evidence lying 15,000 feet down on the bottom of
the Atlantic Ocean, it was impossible to determine the
true cause. Grissom would be the only astronaut who used
the hatch without receiving a slight hand injury. As he
later reminded Glenn, Schirra, and Cooper, this helped
prove he had not touched his hatch plunger. Did Gus blow
the hatch? Data collected from other Mercury astronauts
say no. Every other astronaut that blew the hatch manually
got bruised or cut. Gus did not.
Grissom expressed his opinion in an
interview on April 12, 1965, that he believed the
premature hatch explosion was caused by the exterior
lanyard being loose. At that time it was held in place by
only one screw. Subsequently a better method of securing
the lanyard was effected.