John Glenn, Alan Shepard, Virgil I. (Gus) Grissom, Wally Schirra, Donald K. (Deke) Slayton, Scott Carpenter, and Cooper.
An engineer can explain how a system should work (in theory) but an operator has to know what the engineer knows and then has to know how the systems tie together to get the mission accomplished.
When you are sitting at the console, you want a set of handbooks with certified correct data, formatted so the information can be accessed and used in seconds. We needed to separate the “nice to know” from the “must know.” We had to get the data that would enable us to work problems that were workable, and discard all the data that applied to problems that could not be solved by the crew or controller.
To manage this large mass of information, I assigned a single capsule system to each controller. He had to grind through it and digest it, put it in a readily usable format, and cross-check it with test reports and specifications. We built a comprehensive handbook out of this data. Once we had the words on paper, each controller taught the entire team about the system he had studied. This gave us a common frame of reference among the crew, the remote site controllers, and those in the control center. Once we got the data right then, in similar fashion, we wrote the troubleshooting procedures the crew would use, and from there we moved on to codify all the operational rules.
It was not a good time to be talking about luck, but in times of crisis your defenses kick in. This is especially so among people who have loved to fly. They go on autopilot. Their instincts take over. Nothing could be done for the crew.
“From this day forward, Flight Control will be known by two words: ‘Tough and Competent.’ Tough means we are forever accountable for what we do or what we fail to do. We will never again compromise our responsibilities. Every time we walk into Mission Control we will know what we stand for. “Competent means we will never take anything for granted. We will never be found short in our knowledge and in our skills. Mission Control will be perfect.
The greatest focusing mechanism in the space program was the countdown. Clear, crisp, and unequivocal decisions had to be made during the final hours and minutes. As the count progressed, people in each area of the program came forward. After assessing the technical issues, all made their calls. Everyone swallowed some problems, bit their own bullets. Launch day was like a fresh start, a new day, and I loved it.
It was at moments like this that we counted on “Captain Refsmmat,” our imaginary mascot. In the Trench a “refsmmat” is shorthand for “reference to stable member matrix,” a set of equations used among controllers, crews, and flight designers as the mathematical means to determine angles with reference to navigational stars.
The nominal training occurs early in the simulation period. It lasts only two to three days and is used to establish crew-controller action timing, locate the Go NoGo decision points, and exercise the procedures for the planned mission. The contingency training tests the crew-controller decision process in a mission environment while solving complex trajectory and systems problems.
Awarding the “dumb shit medals” (DSM) was the focus of the festivity. Flight directors, controllers, and crew compiled a list of errors, both perceived and actual, during the course of the mission. In an elaborate and highly graphic fashion, we stepped forward to make a speech or accept our honors.
The Foundations of Mission Control, a one-page statement summarizing the values essential to a controller attaining excellence. The text was written by flight director Pete Frank. See page 393.)
This was done for the highly scientific purpose of seeing how far a golf ball would travel in gravity that was one sixth the Earth’s.