Magnificent Desolation_ The Long Journey Home From the Moon - Buzz Aldrin [65]
The choice for one of the most momentous events in mankind’s … history falls to the brainy 39-year-old Air Force colonel by virtue of his role as lunar module commander…. The disclosure of Aldrin as the choice comes as a surprise to many who had speculated that the top commander [Neil Armstrong] would be entitled to pull rank and take his place in the history books as the first man to set foot on a satellite of the earth. But a space agency official said the decision is not Armstrong’s to make. The flight plan controls the mission and it calls for the lunar module pilot to make the initial egress.”8
“It’s not based on individual desire,” Neil had explained, “but on how the job can be best accomplished on the lunar surface.” The article concluded, “Now, six weeks later, the decision has been firmed up. It could be changed, but is not likely to be.”9
I recognized that we were setting a precedent, so I asked Al Bean, the copilot scheduled for the next mission, “What do you think about this?” Alan recognized, as I did, that historical significance might trump NASA protocol in this case. I posed the question to a few other fellow astronauts, and their response was much the same.
Word soon got around that I was trying to lobby support for my being the first to set foot on the moon’s surface, that I was soliciting the other astronauts’ support in my quest to be the first man on the moon. That wasn’t the case. I was simply behaving like a competitive Air Force fighter pilot would. In truth, I didn’t really want to be the first person to step on the moon. I knew the media would never let that person alone. I suspected that such intense media coverage after my Gemini flight was a major factor in my mother’s suicide. Why would I place myself in a position for even more attention than I was already sure to get, simply by being part of the mission? Also, something inside me said that for such a seminal event, it would be wrong for the commander to sit in the lunar module and watch while a junior copilot made history.
Rumors continued to swirl, and the media quoted unidentified NASA insiders saying that the first history-making step was still up for grabs. Thinking it best to clear the air, I went to Neil. “You know I don’t care one way or another, but we need to settle this matter before it gets blown out of proportion and so we can get on with our training.”
Normally a straight shooter, Neil seemed hesitant and aloof. Finally he looked away from my eyes and said, “Buzz, I realize the historical significance of all this, and I just don’t want to rule anything out right now.”
About ten days later, Deke Slayton came by and said, matter-of-factly, “Neil will be the first one out of the LM.” Ostensibly the decision to have Neil go out first was made for practical, logical reasons. After a number of simulated practice exits, it was determined that it was easier for the man on the left, closest to the hatch, to go out first. That was Neil. When we tried to do it otherwise in practice, it required that we change places, and that I move to the left. When wearing pressurized suits and helmets with the large life-support backpacks, it was not impossible for me to exit the cramped lunar module first, but it was difficult if not downright dangerous, since we would run more risk of bumping into sensitive equipment inside the LM or banging the sensitive equipment in our backpacks. When Deke Slayton asked Neil his opinion on the matter, Neil said that from a technical standpoint it was preferable for the left crewman to egress first. That pretty much settled it.
TO ANSWER DR. FLINN’S question, certainly it was difficult and sometimes awkward to be known as “the second man