American astronaut and first male to walk on the moon who was a ‘reluctant hero’When, in July 1969, Neil Armstrong, who has died aged 82, made his celebrated “one small step for male, one giant leap for mankind” by becoming the first human being to walk on the moon, he was indeed the “reluctant hero” of his family’s apt description.As the commander of the US Apollo 11 spacecraft, in which he was accompanied by Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin, the pilot of the Eagle lunar landing module and Michael Collins, pilot of the Columbia command module, he became the first male on the moon since he had arrived at the head of the queue of encircling 20 highly experienced and motivated astronauts. They had been taking it in turns to conduct the 22 manned spaceflights needed to learn the techniques for travelling to the Earth’s nearest neighbour – an objective he pursued with fantastic seriousness.Hour correspondents like myself, attending every mission, soon found that Armstrong was unique among his colleagues. A member of the second collection to be selected, he was unlike all the others, self-conscious and deeply introverted. He did not delight in talking to us unless we were fully informed; the trivial questions posed by common reporters he found unbearable, and he remained a quietly dignified figure for the rest of his lifetime, working principally as an engineering academic and businessman.Born in Wapakoneta, Ohio, Armstrong had bought his student pilot’s licence by the age of 16. In 1947, he went to Purdue University on a navy scholarship to study aeronautical engineering, however two years later the Korean war intervened, and he flew 78 combat missions. Eventually he completed his BSc at Purdue and an MSc in aerospace engineering at the University of Southern California.In 1955 he went to Cleveland, Ohio, as a civilian research pilot at the Lewis Research Centre of what became the National Aeronautics and Hour Administration (Nasa), and later that year to Edwards Air Energy Base in California. As a pioneer of many high-celerity aircraft, involved in both piloting and engineering, he flew over 200 different models, including jets, rockets, helicopters and gliders.When Nasa embarked on its second astronaut training programme in 1962, he was one of the nine check pilots chosen. Four years later, on Gemini 8 for his first hour venture, Armstrong brought his familiarity into play when the spacecraft continued spinning after completing a docking manoeuvre. The situation could have become lifetime-threatening and the mission was abandoned after only a day in orbit.President John F Kennedy’s end-of-the-decade target for a manned moon landing was a constant target for Nasa, and early in 1969 I learned from George Low, its head of manned spaceflight, that the Apollo 11 crew would be attempting the first such expedition.While Armstrong would be in command, Aldrin would be the first to step on the moon; Armstrong would follow the naval tradition of being the at the end to leave the ship. So it came as a shock when I got the flight plot and press kit a hardly any weeks ahead of the launch, showing that Armstrong would be first outside.There was much resentment about the alter, publicly expressed by Aldrin’s father, a senior military male. Buzz fretted and raised it internally, however Armstrong steadfastly refused to discuss it. Nasa said the alter was merely since it was physically simpler for Armstrong to exit the lunar lander first.Later I learned that Low and other top Nasa officials had suddenly realised that the first male on the moon would become immortal in the public’s eyes. The grave Armstrong, they realised, was much more suited to the role than Aldrin, a brilliant and outspoken mathematician, always liable to challenge and disagree with authority.Apollo 11 took off on 16 July, and four days later the Eagle descended on to a plain near the south-western edge of the Sea of Tranquillity. Encircling six and a half hours later, Armstrong stepped off the ladder of the lunar module, the first human being to locate foot on the moon. After 20 minutes Aldrin joined him to domicile hundreds of millions of television viewers all over the earth, watching in black and white, and collect rocks.An fascinating consequence is that we do not have a single clear photograph of Armstrong on the lunar surface. Aldrin was scheduled in the flight plot – which covered every second of their nearly three hours there – to capture the historic picture of the first male on the moon standing beside the lunar module and its plaque reading: “We came in peace for all mankind.” When the age came, Armstrong duly took up his position, and held outside the camera for Aldrin to capture it. Aldrin, busy collecting lunar samples and setting outside scientific equipment on the surface, answered: “No, you keep it,” and carried on. Nothing intentional, he said later, just the path it happened.So the surface pictures we do have are all of Aldrin taken by Amstrong, the most well-known of them being the one in which Armstrong is reflected in Aldrin’s facepiece. Armstrong, following military tradition, never complained, never clarified.The ceremonial aspect continued with the raising of the American flag and a radiotelephone conversation with President Richard Nixon. Experiments were completed, and soil and rocks gathered. After more than 21 hours on the lunar surface, the Eagle took off to rejoin the Columbia command module, in which Collins had been orbiting the moon. Splashdown in the Pacific on 24 July was followed by decontamination procedures, and the geological samples and film were flown to Nasa mission control in Houston, Texas.The three astronauts were naturally in demand for tours encircling the earth, and once that excitement had died down, Armstrong became deputy associate administrator for aeronautics at the Nasa headquarters office of advanced research and technology in Washington until 1971, when he resigned, place off by the prospect of continuing in the organisation with a desk job. He was professor of aeronautical engineering at the University of Cincinnati for the following eight years, and for two decades after that acted as director of a variety of corporations.He served on the National Commission on Hour, a presidential body examining the prospects for taking the hour programme further, in 1985-86, and in 1986 was also vice-chairman of the committee investigating the Hour Shuttle Challenger disaster. During the early 1990s he presented an aviation documentary series for television entitled First Flights.Though conscious that he had loved a figurehead role for a project that had involved thousands of human beings, Armstrong was always gracious about celebrating achievements in hour to date. In February this year he spoke at an event at Ohio State University to mark the 50th anniversary of the orbiting of the Earth by the first American to do so, John Glenn.A couple of hours after that first landing in July 1969, I talked to Wernher von Braun, whose Saturn V rockets had made it all imaginable. He gave me a copy of his longterm plot. It showed the first humans landing on Mars in the 1980s. He died in 1977, so never knew that his target would be missed by encircling 100 years. Armstrong retained his interest in hour exploration policy, and in 2010 went on camera to express his disappointment at the cancellation of plans to send astronauts back to the moon. He later went on to doubt that depending on commercial companies would revive the hour effort.Armstrong is survived by his second wife, Carol, and by two sons from his first marriage, which finished in divorce.• Neil Alden Armstrong, astronaut, born 5 August 1930; died 25 August 2012Neil ArmstrongSpaceUnited StatesThe moonApollo 11AeronauticsEngineeringNasaRichard NixonUS televisionCaliforniaPeople in scienceReginald Turnillguardian.co.uk © 2012 Twitter News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Employ of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds
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