Photograph by Michal Kluvanek

The Author

From the age of eight, when he insisted that his mother take him to see the seminal science fiction film Destination Moon, Brett Gooden has had a fascination for the fact and fiction of human space flight. In 1961 he joined the British Interplanetary Society (UK) and was elected a Fellow of the Society in 1973. In 1967 he became a member of the Space Medicine Branch of the Aerospace Medical Association (USA). He obtained his MB, BS (1967) and MD (1972) degrees from the University of Adelaide, and PhD (1978) from the University of Nottingham (UK). He was elected to membership of Sigma Xi, the Scientific Research Society (USA) in 1973 and the Physiological Society (UK) in 1975. His scientific research in Australia, USA and UK has dealt largely with aerospace and diving medicine. He authored one of the earliest reviews of the physiological responses of man in orbit in Spaceflight in 1964. His books include Diving and Asphyxia: A Comparative Study of Animals and Man (Cambridge University Press, 1983, reprinted 2009), Spaceport Australia (Kangaroo Press, 1990), Echidna: Extraordinary Egg-laying Mammal (CSIRO Publishing, 2006) and Projekt Natter: Last of the Wonder Weapons. The Luftwaffe’s Vertical Take-Off Rocket Interceptor (Ian Allan Publishing Limited, 2006).

Acknowledgements

I wish to express my sincere gratitude to Dr. Robert Palmer, aerospace engineer, retired, formerly of The Aerospace Corporation, for his tireless support with the technical aspects of this book. Despite my plethora of questions on a multitude of subjects over many years, he remained steadfast in his desire to assist me. I hasten to add that any inadequacy that the reader may find with scientific topics in this book remains entirely my responsibility.

I thank my family for their support.

I am very much in debt to Robert Forsyth of Tattered Flag Press and Chevron Publishing and Mark Nelson for their unwavering assistance in making this book possible. An author could not ask for a more dedicated editor and creative team. I would also like to thank Tim Brown for his work on the graphics in this book.

Brett Gooden, MD, PhD, FBIS

Adelaide, South Australia

December 2012

Photograph and illustration credits

Individual credits appear with the relevant photographs and illustrations within the body of this work. Every effort has been made to trace the present copyright holders of photographic and illustrative material contained in this book. Our sincere apology is made for any unintentional omission which we would be pleased to correct in any future edition of this book.

Text reference numbers

As you read this book you will note that small numbers appear from time to time in the text in brackets. These numbers are the key to discovering the source of the information just discussed and sometimes to more detailed information on the subject. You will find these numbers listed at the back of the book under Chapter Notes. Look for the chapter concerned and you will find the reference numbers listed in numerical order that show the reference source. Enjoy your research.

Published in Great Britain in 2012 by
Tattered Flag Press
PO Box 2240
Pulborough
West Sussex RH20 9AL
England

office@thetatteredflag.com
www.thetatteredflag.com

Tattered Flag Press is an imprint of Chevron Publishing Ltd

Spacesuit
© Brett Gooden 2012

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced,
stored in a retrieval system, transmitted in any form or by any
means, electronic, or mechanical including by photocopying
or scanning, or be held on the internet or elsewhere, or
recorded or otherwise, without the written permission of the
publisher.

Jacket Design: Tim Brown/Mark Nelson
Illustration © Tim Brown 2012

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A Catalogue Record for this book is available from the
British Library

ISBN 978-0-9543115-4-4
EPUB ISBN: 978-0-9576892-0-6

Design by Mark Nelson, Sydney, Australia

Printed and bound in China

Copyright
Illegal copying and selling of publications deprives authors,
publishers and booksellers of income, without which there
would be no investment in new books. Unauthorised
versions of publications are also likely to be inferior in quality
and contain incorrect information. You can help by reporting
copyright infringements and acts of piracy to the Publisher or
the UK Copyright Service.

For more information on books published by Tattered Flag
Press visit: www.thetatteredflag.com

This book is produced using paper that is made from wood
grown in managed, sustainable forests. It is natural, renewable
and recyclable. The logging and manufacturing processes
conform to the environmental regulations of the country of
origin.

Contents

INTRODUCTION

GLOSSARY

Chapter One

BALLOONS AND SPACE DIVERS

Chapter Two

PULPS AND THE SOFT SUIT

Chapter Three

KNIGHTS IN ARMOUR AND THE HARD SUIT

Chapter Four

SECRET SUITS OF THE SECOND WORLD WAR

Chapter Five

SCIENCE FICTION TO SCIENCE FACTUAL

Chapter Six

ON THE THRESHOLD OF SPACE

Chapter Seven

EARLY SPACESUITS

Chapter Eight

MOON SUITS – CONCEPTS OF THE FIFTIES

Chapter Nine

ON THE MOON AT LAST

Chapter Ten

SPACE STATIONS, MARS AND BEYOND

TABLE

CHAPTER NOTES

INDEX

I N T R O D U C T I O N

ICON OF SPACE FLIGHT

THE spacesuit is an icon of space flight. It is the very symbol of interplanetary exploration – of pioneering adventure, of excitement and danger, and of man’s quest to learn more of other worlds.

Spacesuit. What images does this word conjure in our imagination? We might visualise dramatic scenes of astronauts working on giant satellites or kicking up moon dust on the lunar surface. Or perhaps we might recall with nostalgia space heroes in science fiction films and magazines, like Dan Dare and his Space Fleet colleagues floating between their bullet-shaped spaceships. The spacesuits worn by astronauts today are a major technological milestone on a long and tortuous path that began in the 1930s with primitive garments developed for high-altitude record attempts by daring young aviators.

Three US astronauts working together on the huge satellite, Intelsat VI, in the payload bay of the Space Shuttle Endeavour in May 1992. Each astronaut is suited in an extravehicular mobility unit spacesuit. It took around 50 years of intensive development to reach this degree of sophistication in pressure suits. (NASA)

During the first half of the 20th century the spacesuit was generally believed to be a dream, a fantasy of science fiction. In cold, practical terms it seemed impossible that it could ever become a reality.⁽¹⁾ This was an era when science fiction and special effects artists could allow their imaginations to run riot on the covers of science fiction books, in magazines and films. This period fostered an exciting interaction between science fiction and science fact. Then, in the 1950s, came the Space Race and with it serious but incredibly ambitious plans to finally land a man on the Moon. The unbelievable dream might come true. Enormous pressure was placed on engineers and aviation physicians to produce real spacesuits that could be worn not only in space, but also on the lunar surface.

This book follows the remarkable history of the spacesuit through science fiction and fact. With an absorbing blend of clarity and detail, it explains how this seemingly impossible dream gradually evolved into the complex suits of today and how the quest continues for the ‘Mars and Beyond’ suits of tomorrow.

Colonel Daniel McGregor Dare and his faithful batman, Albert Fitzwilliam Digby (left), float out into space in their ‘space exploration suits’. Dan Dare, Pilot of the Future was created by the artistic genius, Frank Hampson, for this classic science fiction cartoon strip (29 April 1955). The suit first appeared in the revolutionary boys’ magazine Eagle in the 19 May 1950 issue. (Reproduced with the kind permission of the Dan Dare Corporation Limited)

G L O S S A R Y

BBC

British Broadcasting Commission

CIA

Central Intelligence Agency

CCCP

Union of Soviet Socialist Republics

EMU

extravehicular mobility unit

EVA

extravehicular activity

HUT

hard upper torso assembly

ILC

International Latex Corporation

ITMG

integrated thermal micrometeoroid garment

LEM

lunar excursion module

LTA

lower torso assembly

NACA

National Advisory Committee on Aeronautics

NASA

National Aeronautics and Space Administration

NASM

National Air And Space Museum

PLSS

Portable/primary life support system

RAE

Royal Aircraft Establishment

SI

Smithsonian Institution

TMG

thermal and micrometeoroid garment

USA

United States of America

USAF

United States Air Force

USAAF

United States Army Air Forces

USN

United States Navy

A young surgeon and an army officer take their lives in their hands and make the first manned balloon flight from the Jardin de la Muette in the Bois de Boulogne over Paris on 21 November 1783.

Chapter One

BALLOONS AND
SPACE DIVERS

Who needs a spacesuit anyway?

FOR the early writers of science fiction, the idea of a spacesuit simply did not arise. It was assumed that a breathable atmosphere extended all the way from the Earth to other worlds. This concept seems to have been based on the famous misconception of the ancient Greek philosopher Aristotle that ‘Nature abhors a vacuum’. But a major problem for this theory arose by the 16th century when it became clear that the planets, including the Earth, moved around the sun in elliptical paths. If there was an atmosphere between them, then they must be constantly ploughing through this dense gaseous medium. The enormous heat generated by the resulting friction should be disastrous for the planets, burning them to a crisp.⁽¹⁾ The only logical answer was that space was empty.

In 1609 the distinguished astronomer, Johannes Kepler, wrote an imaginative tale called Somnium. He understood that there could be multiple problems to be encountered by his imaginary space voyager, Duracotus, when travelling to the Moon. Increasing altitude, he noted, would bring with it bitter cold and lack of air to breathe. Although there was an increasing awareness amongst scientists such as Bishop John Wilkins (1614-1672) that the space traveller would face multiple physiological stresses, ignorance of the true nature of such stresses was revealed in his proposal that the thinness of the upper atmosphere could be counteracted by the use of a moistened sponge.⁽¹⁾

The hypothesis that space was empty was soon given further credibility by experimentation. In 1648 on Mount Puy-de-Dôme, a dormant volcano near the ancient French city of Clermont-Ferrand, Florin Périer, the brother-in-law of Blaise Pascal after whom the measurement of pressure is named, found by the use of a simple mercury column barometer that the air pressure decreased as he took the barometer higher up the mountain.⁽²⁾ This evidence suggested that the Earth’s atmosphere might have an upper boundary.⁽¹⁾

Why you wouldn’t like to fly in my beautiful balloon

The clever observation by two wealthy paper manufacturers, the French brothers Joseph Michel and Jacques-Étienne Montgolfier, that a small paper or silk bag placed above a fire floated upwards in the hot air led to their invention of the hot air balloon.⁽³⁾ Subsequent experiments resulted, in 1783, in their construction of the first man-carrying balloon. On 15 October of that year a young surgeon and apothecary named Jean-François Pilâtre de Rozier made a successful tethered flight.⁽⁴⁾ Subsequently, together with an infantry officer in the French Royal Guard, François Laurent, marquis d’Arlandes, he undertook the first free flight in the Montgolfier hot air balloon on 21 November from the Jardin de la Muette in the Bois de Boulogne. The balloon is reputed to have flown over Paris for 16 kilometres (10 miles) in 23 minutes reaching an altitude of around 900 metres (3,000 feet). The modification and improvement of the basic Montgolfier design and the demonstration shortly thereafter (1 December) by J.-A.-C. Charles and Nicolas-Louis Robert that hydrogen gas could produce sustained buoyancy in a balloon with much less effort, opened the way for the exploration of the upper atmosphere.⁽³⁾

A 1610 portrait of Johannes Kepler (1571-1630). In 1609 he wrote an imaginative tale titled ‘Somnium’, which foretold the problems of his imaginary space voyager, Duracotus, on a voyage to the moon.

The fundamental importance of why we and other land animals have to breathe to stay alive was not fully understood until the late 18th century. In 1777 the renowned French chemist, Antoine Lavoisier, reported that the air in a closed jar containing a living bird showed an increasing amount of a gas that was absorbed by soda lime, later called carbon dioxide, and a decreasing amount of a life-sustaining gas which he called oxygène but which we now call oxygen.⁽⁵⁾ Tragically for science, this brilliant man died in the blood bath of the French Revolution.

Eventually, the need for human space travellers to be provided with a breathable atmosphere began to be expressed in fanciful tales of science fiction. In the first half of the 19th century, the renowned American poet and author, Edgar Allan Poe, wrote a story entitled The Unparalleled Adventures of one Hans Pfaall (1835), later republished as Lunar Discoveries – Extraordinary Aerial Voyage by Baron Hans Pfaall, in which he described the travels of the Baron to the Moon in a homemade balloon. In this tale Poe mentioned ‘…an apparatus for the condensation of the atmospheric air’, which allowed his space traveller to breathe as he passed through what the author assumed would be the rarefied atmosphere between the Earth and the Moon.⁽⁶⁾ In 1869 the American clergyman Edward Hale authored The Brick Moon and presented the original idea of a manned Earth satellite, 61 metres (200 feet) in diameter, made of bricks and circling 6436 kilometres (4,000 miles) high. The bricks would melt as a result of atmospheric friction, producing a porcelain-like covering which would keep the satellite airtight. Hale’s idea was incredibly advanced. Ceramic material is both highly resistant to, and a very poor conductor of, heat. Today, ceramics are used on missile nose-cones and in rocket engines.⁽⁷⁾

As balloonists ventured higher and higher into the atmosphere, they were starting to suffer from the serious ill effects of altitude on consciousness and muscular movements.⁽⁸⁾ From the middle of the 19th century James Glaisher and Henry Coxwell made numerous balloon flights with the support of the British Association for the Advancement of Science.⁽⁴⁾ They sampled the air, performed analyses of the atmosphere and monitored their own physiological reactions. On one flight, in 1862, their aneroid barometer registered 8840 metres (29,000 feet) at which point Glaisher became unconscious from a deficiency of oxygen (the technical word for this is hypoxia) and Coxwell was partially paralysed. Incredibly, Coxwell managed to open the balloon’s relief valve by pulling on the valve rope with his teeth. Sufficient hydrogen gas was vented to cause the balloon to descend and both aeronauts recovered. Although the altitude reached may not have been as high as the reported barometer reading, nevertheless the life-threatening effects of hypoxia were clearly demonstrated.

Paul Bert (1833-1886), pronounced ‘bear’, the famous French physiologist who has been called the ‘Father of Aviation Medicine’. Bert recognised the danger that lack of oxygen would present to high-flying balloonists and developed an apparatus to provide them with oxygen.

These balloon flights did much to stimulate the interest of the famous French physiologist, Paul Bert, the so-called Father of Aviation Medicine, to undertake meticulous experimentation. In the process he gained extensive knowledge about the inherent dangers to living things with increasing altitude.⁽²⁾ Bert was able to calculate with reasonable accuracy the amount of oxygen needed to sustain normal function in the face of decreased atmospheric pressure.

In 1874 two competent aeronauts, Theodore Sivel and Joseph Crocé-Spinelli, came to Bert’s laboratory to experience the effects of low atmospheric pressure in the newly fabricated low-pressure chamber in preparation for their upcoming high-altitude flights. In the chamber they were subjected to an air pressure equivalent to an altitude of 7300 metres (24,000 feet) and learned how to use specially prepared oxygen-nitrogen mixtures designed to prevent them from developing the effects of hypoxia.⁽²⁾

On 15 April 1875 these two balloonists, along with their friend Gaston Tissandier, took off in an attempt to reach 8000 metres (26,240 feet).⁽⁴⁾ They had taken three bags containing a total volume of 150 litres of the oxygen-nitrogen mixture with an oxygen concentration of 72 per cent. The air we breathe at ground level contains 21 per cent oxygen. Each aeronaut breathed this mixture from a short tube connected to a ‘wash bottle’ containing an ‘aromatic liquid’ presumably to moisturise the inhaled gas.⁽²⁾ Only shortly before the flight, Paul Bert had learned of the specific flight profile to be attempted by these balloonists. Recognising the danger the proposed altitude represented for the men, he immediately sent a letter warning them that they had not planned to take sufficient oxygen. He estimated that the three balloonists would need a total of 20 litres per minute. His letter arrived too late. The trio ascended well above the originally planned maximum altitude, reaching 8785 metres (28,830 feet). Tragically Sivel and Crocé-Spinelli died of hypoxia. Only Tissandier survived the flight.

The disastrous balloon flight of Sivel, Crocé-Spinelli and Tissandier in 1875. In this illustration Sivel is shown dropping ballast, Tissandier is reading the air pressure using a barometer and Crocé-Spinelli is holding his oxygen ‘respirator’. The three striped bags seen above their heads contained a total volume of 150 litres of an oxygen rich air. This volume of breathing air was woefully inadequate for the flight. Only Tissandier survived.

The famous science fiction writer of the 19th century, Jules Verne, played a large part in the popularisation of travel into space and was amongst the first to suggest the idea of a spacesuit.

Three years later in his classical work La Pression Barométrique (Barometric Pressure) Bert, no doubt stung by this tragedy, stated clearly that an aeronaut must ‘…breathe an air whose oxygen content rises proportionately as the [atmospheric] pressure falls’ so that the oxygen pressure inhaled always remains the same or greater than that at ground level (one atmosphere) pressure. To achieve this objective, he wrote, ‘[starting] at 5000 or 6000 metres a direct and compulsory connection be made between the oxygen bags and the mouths of the aeronauts, by means of a mouthpiece…’⁽²⁾ A fundamental lesson about man’s survival in the upper atmosphere had been learned the hard way.

‘Diving’ into space

It was becoming increasingly apparent that if future space travellers were to venture into the vacuum outside their spaceship some kind of special clothing would be required to protect them from the potentially lethal environment. It was Jules Verne, the famous science fiction writer, who appears to have been either the first person – or at least amongst the first persons – to suggest the concept of a spacesuit in his 1872 book Autour de la Lune (Round the Moon). One of Verne’s intrepid space traveller voyagers, Michel Ardan, touched briefly on this topic in the following rebuke: ‘If Barbicane [one of his two fellow travellers] had only thought of furnishing us with a diving apparatus and an air-pump, I could have ventured out and assumed fanciful attitudes of feigned monsters on the top of the projectile [spaceship].’⁽⁹⁾

Verne’s intrepid space voyagers look down on the stark surface of the Moon from their spaceship. Although they did not carry spacesuits, its possibility was discussed on the trip. The etching comes from Verne’s book, Round the Moon published in 1872.

This pearl shell diver has spotted danger. The so-called hard-hat diving suit that he is wearing remained essentially unchanged for 100 years from the mid 19th to the 20th century.

An original Siebe Gorman diving suit made in London. The pump which supplied the air to the diver is on the left. Two people known as ‘tenders’ turned the two large wheels that powered the pump. It was not a job to fall asleep on. Lead weights on the chest and back and weighted boots compensated for the buoyancy of the suit. (By kind permission of the Maritime Museum of Tasmania Incorporated.)

By the middle of the 19th century divers were using specially designed suits that allowed them to work under water. In 1840 the engineer, Augustus Siebe, had produced a full-length waterproof suit, the original so-called hard-hat diving dress.⁽¹⁰⁾ Siebe was born in Saxony, Germany but moved to London in 1816. He worked variously as a watch-, gun- and instrument-maker. In 1870 he handed the business over to his son and William Gorman and the firm became known as Siebe & Gorman and, in 1880, Siebe, Gorman & Company. The basic design of the now famous Siebe Gorman diving suit has persisted for over one hundred years. To this day, the heavy waterproof suit is still made of rubber sandwiched between an inner and outer layer of cotton twill fabric (see Fact File box – Twill Weave Fabric).

The suit completely enclosed the body except for the hands and rubber rings clasped the ends of the sleeves tightly around the wrists. The feet were shod with weighted boots. A heavy copper helmet had face and side windows that consisted of thick plate glass and gave these suits their common name of hard-hat diving suits. The helmet was attached to the twill suit by a metal corselet which covered the top of the chest and back. Compressed air, provided by a pump located on the surface, passed down an air pipe to the diver and connected to the back of the helmet at an air inlet valve. This one-way valve prevented air from returning up the air pipe. When the pressure in the suit equalled the surrounding water pressure, air escaped through an air outlet valve also located on the back of the helmet. Although the suit gave basic protection against the watery external environment, a new problem arose in the micro-climate inside the suit. The diver’s heavy woollen undergarments often became soaked with perspiration as the diver’s body heat raised the temperature inside the suit. Clearly there was a significant problem with humidity and temperature regulation in this type of suit.

FACT FILE

TWILL WEAVE FABRIC

Denim or jeans fabric is made with twill weave.

It is distinguished by the diagonal lines on the face of the fabric.

It is a very strong and durable weave.

Authors of science fiction have the luxury of playing with ideas in words. They can present their visions in general terms and let the reader’s imagination fill in the details. On the other hand, the artists who are employed to illustrate such stories have no such freedom. They have to ‘concrete’ the author’s ideas by extending their knowledge of contemporary technology into an imagined future. Spacesuits are no exception to this rule. One of the earliest artistic representations of a spacesuit appears in the copiously illustrated work by Georges Le Faure and Henry de Graffigny entitled Aventures Extraordinaires d’un Savant Russe (Extraordinary Adventures of a Russian Scientist) published in 1889.⁽¹¹⁾ The space traveller, whom we assume was female, was outfitted with a surprisingly streamlined helmet with air hose, which was connected to the suit by a modified diver’s corselet. The rest of the outfit, consisting of a buttoned overcoat with open sleeves, copious skirt with bustle and high heel shoes, seems to have followed haute couture rather than physiological necessity.

At the turn of the century a more scientific interpretation of a spacesuit appeared in George Griffith’s story A Honeymoon in Space, which was published in Pearson’s Weekly magazine in 1900. Griffith was probably better known for his ‘future wars’ tales, which helped to boost English penny papers.(7,¹²⁾ Although the suits illustrated for this quaint science fiction story were obviously derivatives of the hard-hat diving suit, the artist had thought about adaptations to facilitate their use on the Moon. Packs seen on the backs of the intrepid astronauts were presumably for life support. These packs would have provided far more freedom of movement compared with the hard-hat suit in which the diver was limited by being tethered to the air line from a surface pump.

How was the hard-hat diving suit constructed? To left is the copper helmet with windows attached to the corselet. In the middle, the helmet is cut away and shows the air inlet pipe and valve and the air outlet valve. The corselet is attached to the fabric of the diving suit torso. On the right the counterweights are shown which prevent the diver from floating to the surface.

It was about this time that the Russian schoolteacher-scientist, Konstantin Tsiolkovsky, the great early advocate of human space flight, proposed the term ‘ether suit’ for the protective garment to be worn in space by astronauts.⁽¹³⁾ Even in 1903 it was still believed that a theoretical universal substance called ether acted as a medium for the transmission of electromagnetic waves. The term ‘ether suit’ had little time to become established because two years later the famous physicist, Albert Einstein, formulated his General Theory of Relativity and the ether hypothesis was abandoned as unnecessary. However Tsiolkovsky firmly established the idea that practical space travel could be achieved only by rocket power and as early as 1903 he drew up his first rocket design utilising liquid oxygen and liquid hydrogen as propellants.⁽⁶⁾ The same year, the brothers Wright, Wilbur and Orville took the first faltering steps towards making heavier-than-air flight a reality.

A female space traveller decked out in the haute couture of the late 19th century. This is one of the earliest, if somewhat impractical, representations of a spacesuit. The helmet, with air hose, is firmly attached to the torso section, but the full-length dress with bustle does not appear to be sealed from the outside environment.

The stage was now set for an explosion of science fiction, which had its major expression in pulp fiction. Coupled with the popular interest in science, aviators were lauded and frequently competed for altitude records as well as numerous other aeronautical exploits. In chapter 2 we shall see how this exotic mixture affected the evolution of the spacesuit.

An 1899 illustration of newly-weds holidaying on the Moon and who seem to be investigating signs of a past humanoid civilisation. The double-barrelled shotgun, held by the bridegroom, seems somewhat superfluous. The couple’s spacesuits are firmly based on the hard-hat diving suit design. But notice the life support packs on their backs which allow excellent mobility, unlike the ancestral diving suit which tethered the diver to his air supply. (Art by Stanley Wood, 1899)

Chapter Two

PULPS AND THE
SOFT SUIT

AT the beginning of the 20th century the concept of a spacesuit was based firmly on the hard-hat diving suit. Meanwhile aircraft design was developing rapidly, pushed on by the apocalyptic air campaigns of the First World War. Large German bombers were flying at altitudes over 3000 metres (10,000 feet) where the performance of both pilots and bomb-aimers was beginning to deteriorate due to the reduction in the atmospheric oxygen pressure; that is, as a result of the effects of hypoxia. Consequently, the Germans experimented with the use of liquefied oxygen as a source of this gas.(1, ²⁾

International competition drove pilots to attempt ever higher altitudes. Most American pilots relied on a face mask that covered the mouth and nose and was fed by a constant stream of oxygen through a tube. Development of such equipment was, however, severely restricted by limited funding up to the 1930s.⁽²⁾

Hugo Gernsback has been called ‘The Father of Science Fiction’. His enthusiasm for this genre and his entrepreneurial skills encouraged artists such as Frank R. Paul to give vent to their wildest visions of future space flight.

At this time the major impetus in the evolution of spacesuit design did not come from engineers and scientists, but from cheap science fiction magazines, the so-called ‘pulps’. A pivotal figure in this literary phenomenon was Hugo Gernsback, who has been called ‘the Father of Science Fiction’.⁽³⁾ In 1926 Gernsback, who had emigrated to the USA from Luxembourg as a youth, produced the first all-science fiction magazine, Amazing Stories. He was well-educated and from an early age he had been interested in technical advances such as electricity, batteries and radio. In 1905 he manufactured the first mass-produced home radio despite the fact that there was no programmed broadcasting at the time.⁽⁴⁾ His fascination with new technology and science led him to create a magazine called Modern Electrics, which was an immediate success. In 1913 he changed its name to the Electrical Experimenter and took on a former editorial cartoonist named Frank R. Paul. The magazine regularly incorporated science fiction stories and had a further name change in 1920 to Science and Invention. Some issues were devoted entirely to so-called ‘scientific fiction’. It is in one of these issues that we see one of the earliest representations of the so-called fishbowl space helmet. The fishbowl helmet had the great advantage that the wearer could move his head freely in all directions. Its main disadvantage was that sudden acceleration of the body could flip the head forcefully against the bowl with possible head and neck injuries.

This spacesuit on the cover of a 1920s pulp magazine is one of the first illustrations to show the concept of a fishbowl helmet. Other items of interest are the chest-mounted suit control box, the small spherical bottle on the back of the suit possibly containing liquid oxygen, fingerless gloves and the metal bands around the arm suggesting rotary bearings to facilitate forearm and wrist movements.

One of the first representations of astronauts ‘walking’ in space by the aptly titled Dean of Science Fiction Illustrators, Frank R. Paul, depicts tethered spacemen floating around their spacecraft which, ominously, is firing its rocket engines. Are these brave men doomed to immolation?

Typical of the often quirky but intriguing pulp covers, a hero in full pressure suit rescues a beautiful woman trailing her broken helmet. Strangely, the femme fatale appears well-oxygenated as she drapes a languorous arm around the neck of our struggling hero who, despite his intact spacesuit, looks decidedly deficient in oxygen. Planet Stories were published from 1939 to 1955. (Art by Anderson.)

The first issue of Gernsback’s Amazing Stories appeared on 5 April 1926. These publications with their exciting colour covers by Frank R. Paul, now regarded as the Dean of Science Fiction Illustrators, are a delight to the eye even today and full of intriguing technical symbolism. What followed was an explosion of so-called ‘pulp “sf”’ (science fiction) magazines. The term ‘pulps’ originally referred to the paper used for these publications, which was of ‘cheap quality and low grade with untrimmed edges that showered the reader in faded confetti at the turn of a page.’⁽⁵⁾ However, Gernsback’s Amazing Stories and his other magazines were a cut above the pulps, using as they did, a larger format and heavier stock paper with trimmed edges.

The flip side of the previous illustration. The thoroughly liberated space woman in form-hugging outfit rescues the fully togged spaceman whose helmet has been smashed open. Note the remarkable resistance of the exposed female form to a vacuum.

Certain artistic clichés soon arose on the covers of these pulps. As pointed out by the eminent science fiction author, Harry Harrison, sexual dimorphism was the most outstanding of these.⁽⁶⁾ If the images depicted in these covers are to be believed, then it would appear that the physiology of women was quite different from that of men and clearly we are not just talking about the reproductive system here. While men were completely enclosed in their spacesuits from head to foot, women required only skintight bathing suits or the flimsiest of dresses plus a trendy helmet in order to survive the rigours of space! This gross disparity in space garb was very probably related to the fact that most readers of these pulps were men.

The first real Pressure Suits

The Haldane-Davis high-altitude pressure suit

By the early 1930s fierce international competition had driven the altitude record for winged aircraft above 12 kilometres (40,000 feet). Competing aviators such as the Englishman, Captain C.F. Unwins, who ascended to 13.4 kilometres (44,000 feet) in 1932, reported that they were experiencing symptoms of hypoxia despite the fact that they were breathing pure oxygen through face masks.⁽⁷⁾ On the other hand, in the previous year, Auguste Piccard and Paul Kipfer had ascended successfully to 15.8 kilometres (51,800 feet) in an airtight aluminium gondola pressurised with oxygen and lifted by a balloon.(8, ⁹⁾ Although it was theoretically feasible to pressurise the cabin of an aircraft, it was not yet a practical possibility.

In 1920 the British physiologist, Professor John Scott Haldane, had proposed the use of a pressure suit to protect aircrew against hypoxia at altitudes in excess of 12 kilometres (40,000 feet). He suggested that the airman should be enclosed in ‘an airtight dress, somewhat similar to a diving dress, but capable of resisting an internal pressure of say 130 millimetres of mercury (130 Torr; 17.3 kilopascals; 2.5 pounds per square inch).’⁽¹⁰⁾ The so-called standard atmospheric pressure at sea level is 760 Torr (101.3 kilopascals; 14.7 pounds per square inch) of which 21 per cent, or 160 Torr (21.3 kilopascals; 3.1 pounds per square inch), is oxygen. But the oxygen pressure in the smallest air spaces in the lungs, the alveoli, in a person in air at a pressure of one atmosphere is only 103 Torr (13.7 kilopascals; 2.0 pounds per square inch). The oxygen pressure in these alveoli is approximately equal to the oxygen pressure in the arterial blood leaving the lungs. As mentioned, Haldane proposed to inflate his suit to a pressure of only 130 Torr (17.3 kilopascals; 2.5 pounds per square inch), but it would have an atmosphere consisting of pure oxygen. Under these circumstances the oxygen pressure in the suit-wearer’s alveoli would drop to 50 Torr (6.7 kilopascals; one pound per square inch), which would be just sufficient for normal physiological function.⁽¹⁾

In 1933 a young American balloonist named Mark Ridge wrote to Haldane asking if Haldane could make a pressure suit for him, which would allow him to ascend to high altitudes in an open basket carried aloft by one or more balloons.(10, ⁷⁾ Haldane and the British diving suit specialist, Sir Robert H. Davis, jointly designed England’s first pressure suit ensemble for Ridge which was called the Haldane-Davis Stratosphere Flying suit. The prototype suit was manufactured by Siebe, Gorman & Company Limited, which modified one of its hard-hat diving dresses. The suit was made of rubberised fabric in two pieces that were joined by a flexible steel band round the waist and was tested in Haldane’s decompression chamber in London.⁽²⁾ Such a pressure suit, that is one constructed largely of fabric, is commonly referred to as a soft suit. It is to be distinguished from a hard suit which is constructed largely of metal and a hybrid suit which is a combination of these two types.

With Ridge as the test subject, pure oxygen was supplied to the suit and the pressure within it was maintained at 150 Torr (20.0 kilopascals; 2.9 pounds per square inch), while the air pressure in the chamber was reduced to 17 Torr (2.3 kilopascals; 0.3 pounds per square inch) thereby simulating an altitude of 25.6 kilometres (84,000 feet).⁽¹⁰⁾ Ridge’s mobility was considerably restricted when the suit was inflated. This remarkable test simulated for the first time the upper atmospheric pressure of the stratosphere.⁽²⁾ Subsequently Siebe, Gorman & Company developed a full pressure suit for the Royal Air Force, which was tested to 130 Torr (17.3 kilopascals; 2.5 pounds per square inch) pressure difference from inside the suit to outside the suit, the so-called transmural pressure. The oxygen pressure in the alveoli of the lungs would be 50 Torr (6.7 kilopascals; one pound per square inch), which, as mentioned earlier, was adequate for normal pilot function.

Preparing for a trial of the prototype Haldane-Davis Stratosphere Flying Suit, manufactured by the Siebe Gorman diving suit company, in a decompression chamber in 1933.

Modification of the prototype Siebe Gorman suit led to the development of a Royal Air Force full pressure suit seen here with the various parts labelled.

Remarkably, Haldane had also considered the possibility that Ridge might develop ‘diver’s bends’ or decompression sickness. Because of the reduction of pressure within the suit to about 1/5th of an atmosphere, there was a possibility that the dissolved nitrogen in Ridge’s body tissues would nucleate to form bubbles with resulting symptoms including joint pains and respiratory difficulties. However he remained symptom free and Haldane explained that this outcome was probably the result of Ridge breathing pure oxygen prior to decompression, which reduced the concentration of nitrogen in his body to a safe level.⁽¹⁰⁾

The iso-volumetric joint – the Holy Grail of pressure suit design

The restricted mobility of suits when pressurised has been a perennial problem in their development. Even if the pressure in the suit is only 1/5th of an atmosphere above the outside pressure – that is a difference of 150 Torr (20.0 kilopascals; 2.9 pounds per square inch) – the suit becomes much like a rigid balloon. Without flexible joints, movement of the arms and legs is extremely tiring if continued over any length of time. Why is this so? Take an inflated elongated balloon and try to bend it in the middle. It is not easy. As the balloon bends, it folds in on itself on the inside of the bend, reducing the inside volume of the balloon. In 1662 the renowned Anglo-Irish scientist, the Honourable Robert Boyle, one of the first true chemists, proposed the law which is now known by his name. Boyle’s law states that for a given mass of gas, the pressure of the gas multiplied by its volume remains constant at constant temperature. So as the volume of the gas in our bent balloon decreases, the gas pressure inside the balloon increases and the balloon becomes increasingly more difficult to bend. Consequently a suit joint that can be bent easily without changing the volume inside the suit and therefore without raising the gas pressure inside the suit, is called an iso-volumetric joint. Such a joint has become the Holy Grail of pressure suit design.⁽¹¹⁾ Its pivotal importance in the evolution of the spacesuit cannot be overstated as we shall see. A perfect iso-volumetric joint would remain in a bent position without any further effort – provided that there was no resultant resisting force set up in the fabric of the joint in this position.

Wiley Post’s suits – 1934

The year following the successful development of the Siebe Gorman suit, Wiley Post, the famous American round-the-world flyer, was looking for a pressure suit to enable him to enter a number of competitions including the London to Melbourne race which had a prize of US $50,000 – a considerable sum of money at that time. He was convinced that if he could fly higher, he could fly faster by utilising the fast wind in the upper atmosphere called the jet stream.⁽²⁾ Apparently unaware of Haldane’s work in Britain, he approached the well-known motor tyre manufacturer, B.F. Goodrich, and requested ‘a rubber suit which will enable me to operate and live in an atmosphere of approximately twelve pounds absolute [around 4/5ths of one atmosphere]. I expect to fly through rarefied areas where the pressure is as low as five pounds absolute.’⁽⁷⁾ This request suggests a somewhat naïve knowledge of the limitations of pressure suit design at the time, but nevertheless the B.F. Goodrich Company accepted the challenge of developing a pressure suit for Post.

Wiley Post.

The first suit was made of 5.5 metres (six yards) double-ply rubberised parachute fabric and testing was carried out initially at the Goodrich Los Angeles plant. Pigskin gloves and rubber boots were joined to the suit. The helmet was made of aluminium and had a double-layer plastic visor to reduce faceplate fogging in the cold stratosphere, inbuilt earphones and a hinged door at mouth-level to enable Post to take nourishment when the suit was unpressurised. The empty suit was successfully tested to a remarkable (at the time) air pressure of 260 Torr (34.7 kilopascals; 5.0 pounds per square inch) with only minimum leakage at the waist joint. Under a cloak of secrecy a further test was conducted at Wright Field, Dayton, Ohio. This time the suit was subjected to an air pressure of only 100 Torr (13.3 kilopascals; 1.9 pounds per square inch) at which point one of the reinforcing pieces failed. With just three months before the London-Melbourne race, Post took the damaged suit to the main offices of the Goodrich Company in Akron, Ohio where he met Russell ‘Russ’ Colley who had moved to Akron in 1928 to become a mechanical engineer with the Goodrich company.

Colley worked in the company’s experimental division on the newest projects and in subsequent years was to be involved in projects as diverse as a golf ball driving machine and anti-submarine radar. Colley made some modifications to the suit’s original design. He incorporated metal rings just above and below the knee and elbow joints in order to provide some limited mobility when the suit was pressurised, but it was still composed of a single layer. On a hot, humid day in late July, Post donned this second suit for the first time. Unfortunately he became stuck in it.⁽²⁾ Colley recalled: ‘I led him over to a refrigerated room and we got him cooled off. But we still couldn’t get him out, so we had to cut the suit off him. Wiley thought it was a great joke, though; he was laughing the whole time.’⁽¹²⁾

The first pressure suit of the intrepid aviator, Wiley Post, designed by Mr. William R. Hucks (standing), photographed on 2 June 1934 on the roof of the B.F. Goodrich plant in Los Angeles. (National Air and Space Museum, Smithsonian Institution (SI 77-11793)).

FACT FILE

CONSTRUCTION OF THE TUBED TYRE

In the past motor car tyres were constructed of two components, an outer cover and an inner tube. The inner tube consisted of a rubber torus containing air under pressure. This rubber tube was relatively impermeable to air and so remained inflated for a considerable length of time. The outer cover consisted of a casing and a tread. The casing of the tyre was made from layers of rubber-impregnated heavy cotton fabric called duck, more commonly known as canvas. The casing provided resistance against stretching which was necessary to contain the air pressure inside the inner tube. A thick rubber layer called the tread was applied to the outside of the casing. The assembled cover was then placed in a steam-heated vulcanising and moulding press for 30 to 60 minutes, which bound the layers together and also formed the non-skid pattern in the tread.

Left: Cross section of a tubed bicycle tyre. Key: 1. rim, 2. rim strip, 3. rim braking surface, 4. loop wire bead, 5. inner tube, 6. casing, 7. tread.

Wiley Post (in suit) and Russell Colley (middle) during pressurisation test of the third and finally successful pressure suit. The liquid oxygen converter is seen on the ground. The faceplate is quite small as Post had sight in only his right eye.

Colley had to start again. His work for a major motor tyre manufacturer no doubt influenced his practical suggestion that the new pressure suit should be based on the principles used in the automobile tyre. There would be an outer garment, whose function would be to constrain and shape a separate inner garment. This inner garment would be airtight and made of rubber. This time, after taking very careful measurements, he constructed the inner airtight layer using sheet metal moulds, one for the upper torso and arms and one for the lower torso, legs and feet. These metal moulds were dipped into liquid latex using an electrolytic process.⁽⁷⁾ The resulting rubber sections were spliced together in a seated posture with the arms positioned so that the pilot could reach the control column and engine throttle. Gloves were cemented onto the arms thereby creating an airtight garment. The outer garment was constructed of three-ply cotton fabric, which Colley ‘…put together at home in the evenings on his wife’s sewing machine while Wiley stood by to be measured – passing the time by teaching Colley’s 11-year-old daughter how to shoot craps [a dice game].’⁽¹²⁾ By bunching the fabric between the metal rings above and below the knees, the legs were again provided with limited movement to operate rudder pedals. Initially the outer fabric suit tore under gas pressure but, after strengthening, it worked successfully. A major milestone in pressure suit development had been achieved.

In 1934 Post’s third pressure suit was tested successfully in a decompression chamber at Wright Field. It is now in the collection of the National Air and Space Museum. (Photography by Eric Long, National Air and Space Museum, Smithsonian Institution (SI 98-15012)).

Wearing this suit, Post reached a simulated altitude of 7.0 kilometres (23,000 feet) in the decompression chamber at Wright Field on 28 August 1934. In actual flight a five-litre liquid oxygen generator supplied gaseous oxygen that was fed through the helmet for pilot breathing, while the suit was pressurised with a mixture of air and oxygen by the aircraft’s supercharger.⁽²⁾ Despite all this effort, Post never achieved an official altitude record although he is credited with having been the first person to make a flight wearing a pressure suit in his Lockheed Vega aircraft, the Winnie Mae. Tragically he and Will Rogers, the well-known cowboy and film actor, died on take-off in a heavily loaded aircraft on 30 August 1935.⁽⁷⁾

These two photographs: The early German Klanke pressure suit unpressurised and pressurised, with Klanke holding the pressurised suit’s right arm. Under pressure the suit ballooned, looking like something out of the movie The Mummy’s Curse. (USAF)

Possibly the earliest German pressure suit was developed in 1934 by the meteorological aviator, Dr. Gerhard Klanke, in collaboration with the diving suit manufacturer Drägerwerke in Lübeck. Klanke attained his PhD in meteorology in 1931 at the University of Hamburg and went to work in the Weather Pilot’s Office in Cologne. The unreliability of breathing masks made the idea of a pressure suit to prevent hypoxia at higher altitudes attractive and Klanke decided to build a pressure suit himself. His suit consisted of three basic components: the jacket, made of rubber-cotton cloth, was sewn together by his wife; the trouser section was part of a standard gas-protection suit produced by the Drägerwerke; and the helmet was made of brass with a visor of unbreakable Plexiglass. The pressure envelope of his suit had no joints and had to be bandaged in order to prevent it from over-inflating when pressurised, giving it the appearance of something out of the B-grade horror movie The Mummy’s Curse.⁽¹³⁾ Although Klanke wore the suit on numerous flights, none was higher than 6 kilometres (19,500 feet).(14, ¹⁵⁾

In 1936 Squadron-Leader F.R.D. Swain of the Royal Air Force gained the world aeroplane altitude record while wearing the Siebe Gorman pressure suit, reaching 15.2 kilometres (49,957 feet), and the following year Flight Lieutenant M.J. Adams attained 16.4 kilometres (53,937 feet) using an improved version of the suit. The outbreak of the Second World War put paid to any further friendly international competition for many years.⁽¹⁶⁾ However it did prove to be a potent stimulus for further significant steps towards the development of a functional pressure suit as we shall see in a later chapter.

Chapter Three

KNIGHTS IN ARMOUR AND
THE HARD SUIT

Treasure hunters and the Sorima suit

ON 20 May 1922 the great Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company liner Egypt found itself in thick fog off the French coast. Suddenly, a French steamship, the Seine, appeared on the Egypt’s port side travelling very fast and rammed her. Within twenty minutes the Egypt sank taking 92 lives with her. In addition over a million pounds worth of sovereigns and gold and silver bars – just part of the Egypt’s cargo – went to the ocean floor. The wreck was believed to be at a depth of 110 metres (360 feet) or more and at the limit for hard-hat diving.⁽¹⁾ The absolute pressure at this depth is equivalent to the weight of 12 atmospheres. Working on a wreck so deep would be very inefficient for regular divers. Even if the diver spent only thirty minutes working on the sea floor, it would take him about three hours to come to the surface in carefully timed stages in order to avoid the risk of decompression sickness.⁽²⁾ This problem could be avoided if the diver could work in a suit in which the air pressure was maintained at one atmosphere, the average pressure at which we breathe air at sea level. In such a suit the diver could stay down as long as he was comfortable and would not have to decompress in order to return safely to the surface.

Faced with this challenge, an Italian salvage firm, the Sorima Company (Societa Ricuperi Marittima or Society for Marine Recovery), created a remarkable, hard deep-diving suit in 1926. This suit was a simplified version of one manufactured earlier by the German company Neufeldt und Kuhnke of Kiel. Amazingly, the German firm had been building hard suits since the latter decades of the 19th century.⁽³⁾ Its all-metal method of construction, including the incorporation of metal joints, was designed to resist water at depths approaching 275 metres (900 feet) at an incredible pressure which was equivalent to the weight of 28 atmospheres.

Treasure-seeking divers in deep-sea hard diving suits working on the sunken liner Egypt. The suit was constructed by the Italian Sorima Company and between 1931-35 a fortune in gold was recovered from the wreck. (Art by Frederick Parker)

The ball and socket joint

The ball and socket joint, as its name suggests, is based on the principle of the joints we have in our hips and shoulders. Essentially, such a joint consists of a ‘head’ which is part of a sphere that fits into a cup-like component, the ‘socket’. Our hip and shoulder joints can move our limbs in a wide cone of movement because of this type of joint.

In the German Neufeldt und Kuhnke deep-diving suits the ball and socket parts were manufactured and polished with precision so that they fitted together snugly. The seal against the external water pressure was formed from rubber sealing rings inserted between the ball and the socket components.

Pincers at the ends of the arms allowed a diver to hold an oxy-acetylene cutting tool. Although the suit was heavy, its buoyancy, due to the displacement of the surrounding seawater, reduced its effective weight so that it was possible for the divers to work on the wreck. But these hard suits were still very awkward to operate and limited the type of work a diver could perform at depth.⁽²⁾ It took five years of intensive effort on the sunken Egypt but eventually gold, now worth around 40 million pounds sterling, was salvaged over the period 1931 to 1935.

The steel walls of these hard diving suits were designed to withstand a huge difference in pressure between the inside and outside. The sea water pressure outside the suit was many atmospheres greater than the pressure inside the suit. So the tendency was for the external water pressure to crush the suit, whereas in a pressure suit for aviators and astronauts, the pressure difference is in the reverse direction and tends to try to blow up the suit.

Science fiction artists may well have been influenced by the Sorima deep-sea diving suit described above. On the cover of the February 1934 issue of Astounding Stories we see spacesuits in which the torso and limbs are clearly composed of metal segments. For obvious reasons this kind of suit became known as the hard pressure suit.

A schematic diagram of a ball and socket joint originally developed by the German Neufeldt und Kuhnke company and used in the Sorima deep-diving suits. This longitudinal section shows the principle of the joint which is in the bent position. The joint is sealed by two rubber rings shown here in cross section. (Illustration by Tim Brown)

Medieval armour and segmented metal joints

One of the major problems in the design of a metal pressure suit was to provide flexible joints that were also airtight. Useful ideas for these early metal suits came from a variety of sources including the remarkable art of medieval armourers. Suits of armour required a considerable degree of flexibility so that knights could ride on horseback and wield their weapons in sport and combat. Every effort was made to protect the knights from arrows and blades entering at the most vulnerable parts of their suits such as the joints. Of particular interest were the elbow and knee joints.

A pioneer of rocketry and space travel, the Austro-Hungarian Doctor of Physics, Hermann Oberth, suggested that the principles used in such suits of armour could be applied to a hard spacesuit.⁽⁴⁾ For example, an elbow joint could use curved overlapping metal segments both on the inside and outside of the pivot point of the joint. The position of this pivot point would be placed so that the internal pressure neither bent nor straightened the joint. On flexing the joint from the neutral position, the position of least stress in its structure, the decrease in joint volume adjacent to the inner curvature of the joint would be balanced by an equal increase in volume adjacent to the outer curvature of the joint. So there would be no change in suit volume, no change in the suit pressure and therefore no increased force resisting joint movement. The joint, as we have seen in chapter 2, would be iso-volumetric. The only force that the wearer would have to exert to change the position of the joint would be that required to overcome the resistance in its metal and fabric components. The airtight rubber lining of the suit would be prevented from expanding excessively by the restraining effect of the overlapping metal segments.

Early hard spacesuits on a cover of Astounding Stories in 1934. The artist probably took his cue from the remarkable Sorima salvage operation taking place at the time.

A 17th century cavalry soldier’s armour featuring segmented metal joints which permitted some degree of flexibility. Engineers examined such suits carefully in the hope of finding ways of making pressure suit joints more flexible.

Elbow joint of Oberth’s proposed hard spacesuit.
a. side view of the joint showing overlapping metal segments of an iso-volumetric joint. A spherical outer cover only protects the joint from damage, for example by meteoric dust particles.
b. the metal segments would slide over each other but control the expansion of the airtight rubber lining of the suit. (‘Man Into Space’ by Hermann Oberth, The Orion Publishing Group)

Rotational movements, for example, between the hand and the elbow, could be achieved by using a ball bearing joint with a rubber seal. Oberth’s imagination extended so far as to propose a concept for a complete, but rather odd looking, hard spacesuit.

Ball bearing joint proposed by Oberth to allow rotational movement of the suit limbs, for example the wrist. Gloves are connected to the lower section of the joint (1), which turns on a ball bearing (3) mounted in the upper section (2). The upper section connects with the elbow joint. A sealing ring (4) prevents air loss from the suit. (‘Man Into Space’ by Hermann Oberth, The Orion Publishing Group)

Oberth’s proposal for a complete hard spacesuit. Key: 1. entry cover, 2. flange to bolt on helmet, 3. and 4. front and side windows, 5. cylinders of breathing gas and fuel for manoeuvring rocket, 6. manoeuvring rocket motor, 7. control panel, 8. glove or claw, 9. elbow joint, 10. magnets, 11. claw for holding onto structure, 12. short wave aerial, 13. attachment for hanging up suit, 14. mirror, 15. heat dissipator, 16. jack for phone lead, 17. breastplate hinges, 18. air reservoir, 19. length-of-leg adjustment, 20. rotating joint, 21. rotatable support for dissipator. (‘Man Into Space’ by Hermann Oberth, The Orion Publishing Group)

Italian hard suits

The soft pressure suit, discussed in the previous chapter, was composed largely of rubber and fabric. It became patently obvious quite early that one of the basic problems in developing this kind of suit was how to control its tendency to balloon during pressurisation. One idea of how to control this swelling of the airtight rubber bladder of the suit was to surround it with a rigid metal shell. The Italians were probably the first to start developing hard suits for high-altitude flying in the 1930s. Wearing such a pressure suit, Colonel Mario Pezzi, an Italian Air Force pilot and Director of the High Altitude Flying Group based near Rome, regained the altitude record in 1937. His suit was quite advanced in its technology.⁽⁵⁾ Because the temperature of the atmosphere generally falls with altitude, the suit possessed an electrically-heated inner garment. This heating garment was enclosed in the airtight rubberised suit. Expansion of the rubberised component was constrained by a rigid cloth covering and also a light-metal ‘cuirass’. The cuirass was so-named because it was similar to a component of a medieval knight’s armour, which consisted of metal breast and back plates buckled together.⁽⁶⁾ Pezzi noted that the suit became rigid and uncomfortable when pressurised, to such an extent that the suit pressure had to be reduced from its originally designed operating pressure of one atmosphere to 0.3 of an atmosphere using pure oxygen as the breathing gas.⁽⁷⁾

Major Mario Pezzi standing in his pressure suit with the helmet removed. He reached a record altitude flight to 15655 metres (51,378 feet) in May 1937 in a Caproni Ca 161 aircraft.

Shortly before the Second World War, the Italians produced a complete hard pressure suit. Its appearance suggests that it may well owe its origins to the Sorima deep-diving suit. Massive ball and socket joints clearly dominate its design, and it was entered through a large hole in the back.⁽⁸⁾ However its sheer bulk, clumsiness and weight made it quite impractical for in-flight use and there was no chance of buoyancy reducing its weight in an aircraft cockpit as was the case for deep-diving suits. As war seemed imminent, like so many areas of cutting edge technology with potential military applications, pressure suit developments would become enveloped in secrecy. In the next chapter we will examine these fascinating and formerly classified projects.

Parts of the Italian pressure suit worn by Pezzi in 1937: (a) the helmet and (b) the pressure restraining light alloy cuirass.

This bulbous hard suit was produced in Italy shortly before the Second World War and appears to have been based on the Sorima deep-diving suit. It was clearly not practical for use in aircraft of that or possibly any future time. (USAF).

Chapter Four

SECRET SUITS OF
THE SECOND WORLD WAR

USA

The Strata suit

IN the USA work on the development of the pressure suit lagged following Wiley Post’s tragic death in a plane crash in 1935. This stagnation was due in part to the assumption that the pressurisation of aircraft cabins alone would overcome the problem of flying in the rarefied atmosphere above 12 kilometres (40,000 feet). However with the potential for a possible outbreak of hostilities, the US Army realised that military aircrew could find a reliable and flexible pressurised flying suit useful in combat. A pressurised cabin presented a much larger target than a personal suit and the crew of high-flying bombers or reconnaissance aircraft would be at serious risk of death if enemy fire penetrated the pressure capsule and the cabin suddenly lost its pressurised atmosphere. Also, in the case of high-altitude fighter aircraft, the weight penalty of a pressure cabin made pressure suits a more attractive proposition. Consequently, late in 1939, a classified project was initiated under the code name MX-117 for the development of a full pressure suit. These suits carried the designation XH (X for experimental and H for high altitude).⁽¹⁾

Diagram showing just some of the many possible movements of joints in the human body. These joints are either hinge joints that move back or forth, such as the elbow and the knee, and ball and socket joints that can rotate like the shoulder and the hip.

The military turned to the B.F. Goodrich Company and a team once more headed by Russ Colley. It may be recalled that some years earlier Colley had produced pioneering experimental suits for Wiley Post at a Goodrich facility. Normal movements of the human body usually rely on a coordinated combination of movements at both hinge and ball and socket joints, and it was clear to Colley from his previous work on Post’s suits that the two crucial problems were loss of joint flexibility and ballooning of the suit when pressurised. In order to try to solve these seemingly intractable problems, ideas were gleaned from many sources as varied as infant rubber products, women’s undergarments, leather and textile manufacturers and, as we have already seen, automobile tyre technology.

No stone was left unturned and one of the more exotic approaches was the examination of ancient suits of armour to see how the artisans who created these complex coverings approached the problem of joint mobility. Joints were found that consisted of laminated metal plates, which slid over each other. Elbow joints based on this principle were incorporated in the 1941 Goodrich ‘Strata suit’. This suit was designed to protect aircrew flying in the region of the upper atmosphere known as the stratosphere, a region that extends from approximately 11 kilometres (36,100 feet) to 80 kilometres (50 miles) above the Earth.

An early result of the US secret pressure suit project in World War Two, the Goodrich Strata suit of 1941, used elbow joints based on segmented metal joints used in medieval suits of armour. (National Air and Space Museum, Smithsonian Institution (SI 84-10722))

A successful design in nature – the characteristic segmentation of the soft bodies of caterpillars displayed here in a wide variety of this species – was the key to the use of segmented fabric joints in pressure suits. The Tomato Hornworm caterpillar which so intrigued Russ Colley is number 60.

Complete (a) and partial (b) segmented fabric joints for knee and elbow joints and (c) for the shoulder joint. Use of tethers of tape on the sides of joints prevents suit elongation with pressurisation and acts as a hinge around which the joints can bend.

The tomato worm suit and the segmented fabric joint

One day in the spring of 1943 whilst in his garden, Colley observed a tomato hornworm turn 90 degrees without any perceptible difficulty. The tomato hornworm, whose scientific name is Protoparce quinquemaculata, is the leaf-eating larva or caterpillar of the hawk moth. The caterpillar’s body is divided into segments. Colley presumed that the decrease in the volume of a segment on the inside of the bend being performed by the hornworm was perfectly compensated by the increase in the volume of the same segment on the outside of the bend. The worm seemed to be demonstrating the principle of an iso-volumetric joint. In an attempt to reproduce this effect, he had rubberised fabric formed into segmented tubes. The indentations in this pressure bladder delineating each segment were produced by the incorporation of restraints using inelastic materials such as cord, tape and wire. Colley inserted these segmented sections into the regions of the elbows and knees. Linear tethers on each side of the joint prevented the segments from lengthening upon pressurisation and also acted as a kind of hinge around which the joint could bend. The incorporation of these caterpillar-like segments gave the suit its nickname – the ‘tomato worm suit’. Ball bearing joints were inserted at the shoulder joints to allow upper arm rotation.⁽¹⁾

Russ Colley’s so-called ‘tomato worm’ suit ready for a pressurisation test in 1943. The suit is pressurised with air but the pilot is supplied with pure oxygen through the face mask. The suit was constructed by B.F. Goodrich for the US Air Force. (USAF)

The helmet, made of transparent plastic, was of the classic fishbowl or open-fitting type held so dear by pulp fiction artists. This may not be so surprising: as related by the well-known science fiction author Harry Harrison, when the Second World War began three now famous science fiction writers all worked at the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard’s Air Experimental Station. Robert A. Heinlein and L. Sprague de Camp – both aeronautical engineers – were employed on the development of these secret high-altitude flying suits. Incredibly, their friend the biochemist Isaac Asimov, was also working there. Heinlein and de Camp took as their models for pressure suit design the artwork which had illustrated the science fiction stories that they had written.⁽²⁾

Robert A. Heinlein, L. Sprague de Camp and Isaac Asimov at the Philadelphia Navy Yard in 1944. These three exceptional science fiction authors all worked at the Naval Air Experimental Station during the Second World War. Heinlein and de Camp applied ideas from their science fiction stories to their work on secret high-altitude pressure suit development.

The original Tin Man character from the 1903 stage production of the Wizard of Oz presaged the metal pressure suits to come and gave the nickname ‘the tin woodsman’ to the secret hard suit developed by the German Drägerwerke during the Second World War.

The ‘tomato worm’ suit looked great, the dream of science fiction seemed to have become reality, but in fact when pressurised, as shown here, the suit stiffened and virtually immobilised the wearer. (USAF)

Segmented joints were a significant conceptual milestone in the evolution of a functional full pressure suit. Unfortunately, however, theory did not translate very well in practice. When the tomato worm suit was pressurised to 24 per cent of an atmosphere (182 Torr; 24.3 kilopascals; 3.5 pounds per square inch) it became quite rigid and any movement at the joints was extremely difficult.⁽¹⁾ Nevertheless, despite its considerable practical limitations, once this suit was declassified after the war, it had a profound effect on the representation of the spacesuit in science fiction. It just looked right.

Germany

The ‘tin woodsman’ and other Drägerwerke suits

In 1935 the Reichsluftfahrtministerium (the German Air Ministry) directed a diving suit manufacturer, the Drägerwerke at Lübeck, to design a pressure suit for use by pilots in unpressurised aircraft. This company had been established in 1889 by Johann Heinrich Dräger and Carl Adolph Gerling. Dr. Hermann Tietze was the chief engineer for diving apparatuses at the time the company was given this task. He subsequently became the chief engineer for pressure suit development. A suit was fabricated from laminations of silk and rubber, which was reinforced with an external silk cord. Unfortunately, when pressurised, the suit ballooned so much that the two eyeholes moved upwards seven or so centimetres (2¾ inches) making it impossible for the pilot to see out of the helmet.⁽³⁾

As a result of the dismal failure of this ‘soft suit’, a completely different approach was tried. It was decided to construct the new suit largely of metal, not rubberised cloth, which virtually eliminated the problem of elongation of the suit when pressurised.⁽⁴⁾ This suit was called the hard or heavy suit. Only the boots and gloves were made largely of rubber. The metallic components were constructed from ‘lightweight’ metal, presumably an aluminium alloy. Possibly because it resembled the Tin Man as seen in the 1903 musical extravaganza and later in the film the Wizard of Oz (1939), this suit has been referred to as the ‘tin woodsman’ suit.⁽³⁾

Ball bearing joints and ball and socket joints are different

This Drägerwerke hard suit incorporated multiple airtight joints. Ball bearing joints were used at the shoulders, upper arms and forearms, whereas ball and socket joints were built into the elbows, waist, thighs and knees. Italian designers had tried to use ball and socket joints in an altitude suit before the Second World War, but the result had been quite impractical. The brilliance of the Drägerwerke design was that for the first time such joints were scaled down to a practical size and weight. In the German tin woodsman suit the bending of the ball and socket joints was limited to one plane by pivot points on either side of the joint axis. The pivots also joined the upper and lower components together. These joints could bend without any change in their internal volume; that is, they were iso-volumetric. The joints were sealed with a membrane made of rubberised fabric, as described in chapter 3 in the elbow joint design of Oberth’s spacesuit. The suit was reported to be remarkably mobile and freedom of movement was maintained even when the internal pressure was raised to 75 per cent of an atmosphere (570 Torr; 76.0 kilopascals; 11.0 pounds per square inch). It was demonstrated to the Reichsluftfahrtministerium in the middle of June 1942. Despite the use of light metal, the suit was considered to be too heavy for practical purposes.⁽⁵⁾ Because of the weight penalty with this Drägerwerke hard suit, the focus returned to soft suits.

This sophisticated German metal suit, the ‘tin woodsman’, worked well but was too heavy for operational use. It made the ball and socket joint a practical proposition for future hard suit designs. These images show two variants of the suit and the design of one of the ball and socket joints.

Above: Front view standing. Note that the helmet is fully glazed and the gloves have jointed fingers; also the creased boots and gloves indicate that the suit is unpressurised. (USAF).

Side view walking. Note in this variant the different helmet design with only partial glazing; also the smooth outline of boots and gloves indicates that the suit is pressurised. (USAF)

This schematic drawing shows the ball and socket joint of the type used in this German hard suit in the straight and flexed position. It was based on the deep-diving suit ball and socket joints described in chapter 3, but here the joints are sealed with rubberised fabric, not rubber rings, and two metal segments extended the range of movement. Notice how the rubber membrane rolls (in red) in and out of the space between the metal components which are joined by pivot points on either side of the joint. A clever design indeed – iso-volumetric, flexible and air tight. (Illustration by Tim Brown; based on the original design drawings of Dr. Tietze supplied by courtesy of the Bundesarchiv, Freiburg)

One of a series of light pressure suits developed at the Drägerwerke during World War Two. This suit was remarkably advanced. With multiple ball bearing joints at the shoulders and upper and lower arms. Tucked joints were used at the elbow and knee. Note the jointed fingers on the gloves and the pressure release valve on the right thigh. The helmet is very redolent of a wartime aircraft gun turret! (USAAF)

The Drägerwerke light pressure suits

A series of lightweight suits, called Leichter Druckanzug, which were similar to the pre-war Siebe Gorman suit produced by the British, was then developed. They were considerably more flexible than earlier soft suits due to the ball bearing joints inserted into the shoulders, upper arms, lower arms and hips. The elbow and knee joints were described by Tietze as metal-free and of cylindrical construction. They appear to be single-pleat tucked fabric joints, a type of joint which is explained fully in chapter 6.⁽⁶⁾ The gloves and helmet were attached by closure locks and the suit was to be pressurised by an air compressor connected to the aircraft’s engine. These rubber suits could become incredibly hot and humid due to the body heat produced by the wearer’s own metabolism and sweat. The compressed air was distributed cleverly to the remote parts of the suit, such as the gloves and boots, through built-in tubing so that it would flow over the entire body towards a pressure relief valve that was preset at about 15 per cent of an atmosphere (114 Torr; 15.2 kilopascals; 2.2 pounds per square inch) and mounted in the centre of the upper chest wall of the suit. Pure oxygen was provided for the pilot either by the suit being pressurised with 100 per cent oxygen or separately to a face mask worn by the pilot. There were advantages and disadvantages to each system. In the latter case the oxygen was supplied to the pilot’s face mask and hence his lungs at the same pressure as that of the air inside the suit using a device called a demand regulator. A tube leading from the inside of the suit to one side of a membrane in the demand regulator ensured that this happened.

Line drawing of a Drägerwerke light pressure suit with ball bearing joints at the shoulders, elbows and hips. For key to components see the legend for the following illustration. (USAF)

Details of air and oxygen supply to light Drägerwerke pressure suit. Key:- a. air compressor, b. oil filter, c. air supply tubing and three way cock, d. air cooler, e. throttle valve for heat regulation, f. check valve, g. branch tubing, h. pressure relief valve, i. oxygen tubing, k. oxygen mask, I. adjustable demand regulator, m. tubing for pressure compensation, n. electric intercommunication system. (USAF)

This schematic diagram was prepared by Dr. Hermann Tietze, the chief pressure suit engineer at the Drägerwerke. It shows the air and oxygen supply to the hard (heavy) suit and two types of light suit and lists the advantages and disadvantages for each type. By 1943, the light suits were designed for altitudes up to 15 kilometres whereas the hard suit was designed for an altitude of more than 20 kilometres – it was, in effect, a primitive spacesuit. (USAAF)

The Drägerwerke light pressure suits for rocket aircraft pilots

Not long before the end of the war the Drägerwerke developed a light pressure suit for use by the pilots who were to fly the vertical take-off rocket interceptor known as the Natter. This exceptional aircraft – part guided missile, part rocket aircraft – was designed and built at the Bachem-Werk at Waldsee in the last twelve months of the Second Word War. Built largely from wood, it was powered by a liquid propulsion Walter HWK 109-509 A1 rocket motor and four Schmidding SG 34 solid propellant boosters giving maximum take-off thrust of 6,500 kilograms (21,332 pounds). The Natter was designed to reach altitudes up to 19 kilometres in about two minutes. The end of the war barely prevented its operational deployment.⁽⁷⁾ A sample of this suit was removed from the Drägerwerke by the United States Navy shortly after the war ended. To reduce the tiring of the hand holding the control column, the gloves possessed jointed fingers, which allowed a high degree of freedom of movement, while a Plexiglass helmet provided excellent visibility.

Although none of these Drägerwerke light suits actually entered service, pilots of other aircraft capable of reaching high altitudes, such as the Messerschmitt Me 163 Komet rocket aircraft, were given the impression that a pressure suit was nearing operational trials.⁽⁸⁾ Photographic evidence shows that a pressure suit fitting test had been undertaken for the high-performance Horten IX jet-powered flying wing fighter. The full story of German pressure suit development during the Second World War has yet to be told, at least to the general public. Lieutenant Colonel Frederick R. Ritzinger Jr. (USAF) and his colleagues stated in their 1965 review, ‘Pressure Suits – Their Evolution and Development’, that by the end of the war ‘…Germany was far ahead of its time in pressure suit development.’

Natter test vehicle M23 stands ready on the launch tower resplendent in its camouflage paint on 1 March 1945 with Lothar Sieber at the controls. Failure to fully latch the canopy led to the death of this brave young Luftwaffe pilot who nevertheless went into history as the first person to be launched from the ground by pure rocket power. The performance of this unique manned missile was such that a full pressure suit was planned to be worn by operational pilots to protect them at the high attack altitudes. (From ‘Projekt Natter Last of the Wonder Weapons’, 2006. Artwork by kind permission of Gino Marcomini)

Advanced lightweight suit developed at the Drägerwerke towards the end of the Second World War for possible use by pilots of the Natter vertical take-off manned interceptor which was designed for rocket flight to altitudes up to 19 kilometres. (USAF)

By the end of the Second World War rocket aircraft and missiles had been used operationally and jet aircraft were fast approaching the sound barrier. Dreams of manned space travel did not seem quite so fanciful after all. Where would this all lead?

A German pressure suit being tested in the cockpit of the glider test-version of the advanced Horten IX V-2 twin-jet engine flying wing fighter during the latter part of the Second World War. Note the hose lying across the fuselage presumably to provide suit pressurisation.

Chapter Five

SCIENCE FICTION
TO SCIENCE FACTUAL

DURING the Second World War important developments had been made in the design of pressure suits but none had reached the degree of sophistication required for useful application under operational conditions. It was quite clear however that experimental aircraft would soon be challenging the sound barrier and flying regularly above 15 kilometres (50,000 feet). Shortly after the end of the war the designer of the V-2 rocket, Dr. Wernher von Braun, prepared a top secret report for the Allies about rocket development in Germany and the future prospects for the technology. In this remarkable document von Braun described nothing less than the conquest of space by mankind. He envisioned manned and freight rockets travelling regularly between the Earth and a permanently manned space station in orbit. Construction and exterior maintenance of the space station would be undertaken by men wearing ‘divers’ suits.(1, ²⁾

It was around this time that the distinction between the terms ‘science fiction’ and ‘science fact’ started to become somewhat blurred. How do we classify von Braun’s visionary report for it is not, in the strictest sense, science fiction nor is it strictly science fact? In 1638 Bishop John Wilkins, the Bishop of Chester and a member of the Royal Society of London and the Philosophical Society of Oxford, published a book entitled The Discovery of a World in the Moone.⁽³⁾ He did not consider his book to be fiction but rather ‘speculative science’. So it is that much of the material that was to be published in the 1950s about space flight might more fairly be described as speculative science or, as Walt Disney termed it in his remarkable Tomorrowland television productions, ‘Science factual’ material.⁽⁴⁾

Shortly after the war, the tomato worm suit was declassified and revealed to the general public, appearing in widely read magazines including Popular Mechanics.⁽⁵⁾ It would have a profound effect on the representation of the spacesuit in science fiction.

Declassified, the ‘tomato worm’ suit appeared in the popular press shortly after the Second World War. The associated figure legend is redolent of the pressure suit’s aquatic origins: ‘Resembling a deep-sea diver, the pilot in a high-altitude pressure suit is holding his transparent fishbowl helmet.’ (USAAF)

The Ross-Smith spacesuit

In 1949 two members of the British Interplanetary Society and life-long friends, Harry E. Ross and Ralph A. Smith, collaborated on a classic spacesuit design.⁽⁶⁾ Following the Second World War, Smith had been a design draughtsman at the Rocket Propulsion Establishment at Westcott in Buckinghamshire. He rendered a vast range of space flight concepts into dramatic paintings and drawings as accurately as it was technically possible to do at the time.⁽⁷⁾ The Ross-Smith spacesuit clearly incorporated the tomato worm joints.

The Harry E. Ross and Ralph A. Smith 1949 design for a spacesuit. Note the incorporation of the segmented fabric joints, which originated with the ‘tomato worm’ suit design in the US during the Second World War. The astronaut is undertaking an extravehicular activity in orbit around the Earth using a small hand-held rocket propulsion unit. He is tethered to his spacecraft and wears his life support system on his back. He can communicate with his ship via the radio aerial behind his helmet. (R.A. Smith, ‘Exploration of the Moon’, Frederick Muller Ltd)

Dan Dare’s Space Fleet standard spacesuit (Mark 3 – 1999) created by the brilliant comic book artist, Frank Hampson. This detailed diagram of the helmet appeared in 1953. Key to the parts of the helmet: 1. suit diaphragm pressure valve, 2. miniature electronic control devices, 3. thermostatic control, 4. plug for connection to long-range radio communication, 5. short-range radio, 6. air intake if suitable external atmosphere, 7. spring-loaded throat microphone, 8. built-in earphone, 9. network of heating wires. (Reproduced with the kind permission of the Dan Dare Corporation Limited)

Dan Dare’s spacesuit

Despite the well-documented advances in pressure suit technology, some science fiction artists persisted with the diving suit rendition of their spacesuits throughout the 1950s. One high profile example of this phenomenon was the famous Dan Dare – Pilot of the Future as seen in the remarkable creation of the artistic genius Frank Hampson. This comic strip space saga appeared in the equally famous British boys’ magazine Eagle, which was launched in 1950.

Digby, Dan Dare’s faithful batman, finds out what happens when the Space Fleet suit is pressurised. The suit balloons and becomes immobile, a perennial problem for pressure suit designers in the real world. (Reproduced with the kind permission of the Dan Dare Corporation Limited)

Dan Dare’s spacesuit was clearly based on the old diving suit concept. What made this choice at odds with progress was that Hampson was said to have sent early issues of Eagle to Arthur C. Clarke, the renowned science fiction author, and at that time Chairman of the British Interplanetary Society (1946-7, 1950-3) so that he could vet the scientific content of Dan Dare. The Space Fleet suit would certainly have ballooned when pressurised and totally immobilised the wearer.(8, ⁹⁾ Given the otherwise wonderful visions of Hampson’s work we must surely put this discrepancy down to artistic licence.

The helmet of Dan’s Space Fleet suit was at the core of this design.⁽¹⁰⁾ The overhang at the rear of the helmet contained tiny electronic control devices to keep the wearer comfortable inside the suit despite the conditions outside. An automatic thermostatic control maintained a constant temperature by a network of heating wires and cooling channels embedded in the fabric of the suit. In the crown of the helmet a breathable combination of gases was stored in liquid form at very low temperature. This liquid was released through an outlet valve that warmed and expanded the gases and supplied just sufficient atmosphere to provide adequate pressure for breathing, whatever the pressure outside the suit. No provision appears to have been made for removal of noxious gases such as carbon dioxide produced by the spaceman’s metabolism. Perhaps they were simply vented into space as had been suggested for earlier real pressure suits.

Although there was no need for a separate life support backpack as incorporated in most other suit designs, provision had been made for a personal propulsion unit, which could be worn on the back if required (see Digby below). This unit was held in position by a shoulder harness and waist belt. A control lever extended from the side of the rocket unit and projected around the side of the body ending in a handle with a throttle. The thrust of the rocket unit could be directed by moving the position of this lever. A short-range radio allowed suit-to-suit communication using inbuilt throat microphones and earphones.

Heinz Haber and the Collier’s series spacesuit

In 1951 a symposium on space travel was organised at The Hayden Planetarium in New York by Willy Ley, the noted science author and space enthusiast, and long-time friend of Wernher von Braun.⁽¹¹⁾ Gordon Manning, the managing editor of Collier’s, a well-known magazine at the time, was so impressed by this symposium that he decided to run a series of articles written by experts in the field. Over the course of two years von Braun and his colleagues described, in incredible detail, a programme encompassing orbital spacecraft, a huge manned space station and manned expeditions to the Moon and even Mars. The articles were illustrated brilliantly by a marvellous team of technical artists including the iconic space artist Chesley Bonestell. The first space issue hit the news-stands in March 1952 and the last not until April 1954. Subsequently, these articles were expanded to form three hard cover books. In the first book, Across the Space Frontier, Heinz Haber⁽¹²⁾ wrote a chapter entitled ‘Can we survive in space?’ in which he described a spacesuit for use by men working outside the space station. Haber had graduated from the University of Berlin with degrees in physics and astronomy. In 1947 he went to the United States where he joined the Air Force School of Aviation Medicine. Despite the fact that he was not a medically trained doctor, he co-founded the new field of Space Medicine with Professor Hubertus Strughold. In 1952 he joined the University of California in Los Angeles. He wrote widely on the subject of space medicine and at one time was associated with the Walt Disney studios where he assisted in the production of several science factual presentations.⁽¹³⁾ Haber’s suit was clearly heavily influenced by the wartime tomato worm suit.

Archetypical of the early 1950s, Wernher von Braun’s wheeled space station turns slowly to produce artificial gravity while a spaceman propels himself with his small rocket pack. Note the manipulator gloves with various tools that can be operated inside the glove, avoiding the need for complex fingered gloves. (Art by Rolf Klep)

Above: Heinz Haber, Wernher von Braun, Willy Ley, and (below) Walt Disney, part of the team that produced the highly influential Tomorrowland TV space factual series. President Eisenhower was so impressed with the Man in Space programme that he called Disney and asked to borrow a copy of the film.

There are some interesting advances in the suit proposed by Haber. It would be white in colour in order to reflect the heat from the sun and the helmet visor would be tinted to cut out the sun’s ultraviolet rays. The arms end in special manipulator gloves that allowed the wearer to operate a variety of tools and a small rocket-powered propulsion unit. Earlier authors had shown the forearms ending in hooked gloves (see Oberth’s suit in chapter 3). Why were writers suggesting these odd-looking devices? The reason is that fingered gloves must be constructed of at least two layers: an outer restraint layer that resists wear and tear and stops the ballooning of the inner layer, the pressure bladder of the suit. It was realised that such complex construction of the glove fingers would make fine movements difficult and in addition the sense of touch would be severely restricted.⁽¹⁴⁾ We will look more deeply into this fascinating and challenging area of spacesuit construction later in the book.

Heat exchangers – fins and fans

Keeping the temperature inside a spacesuit within a comfortable range for the astronaut is a tricky problem. The suit can be coloured white or silver so that the heat of the sun is reflected and insulated in order to prevent heat conduction but the astronaut generates a lot of heat himself by his body activity. If this heat is not removed in some way his suit can become intolerably hot. Three hundred million years ago the first reptiles had the same problem on Earth. Reptiles do not have the sophisticated temperature control mechanisms that we mammals possess. In the so-called Permian Age an animal called an Edaphosaurus evolved a fin on its back made of long bony spines and covered by skin.⁽¹⁵⁾ It is believed that it used this structure to warm up its body by absorbing the sun’s heat. For astronauts the problem is how to lose heat from their well-insulated spacesuits. In 1953 the brilliant science fiction artist, Frank R. Paul, used the principle demonstrated by the Edaphosaurus in his imaginary spacesuits. Metal fins projected from either the front or the back of the torso and lower legs of Paul’s spacesuit. These fins opened like a folding fan, presumably automatically, when in the shade to radiate excess heat from the suit into the vacuum of space and closed when exposed to direct sunlight so as not to absorb heat. It was intellectually and visually a delightful idea, but from a practical point of view, it was a non-starter.

Three hundred million years ago, early reptiles such as this Edaphosaurus, evolved a fin on their backs to help control their body temperature. (Art by Nobu Tamura)

The famous science fiction artist, Paul, used the same idea as the Edaphosaurus in his science fiction illustration of spacemen working in orbit around Jupiter. Metal fins can be opened like a woman’s folding fan, as required, to lose or gain heat from space and so to maintain a comfortable temperature inside the spacesuit.

Enigma of ‘The Net’ pressure suit

On 5 November 1953 a film called The Net was released in the United Kingdom. The story involves the tension amongst the scientists at an aviation research station whose task is to test a secret jet aircraft capable of flying at three times the speed of sound. A certain foreign power has inserted a spy into the team whose job it is to try to steal the aircraft. Dramatic scenes inside the cockpit of the supersonic aircraft reveal the hero and the evil spy dressed in pressure suits. The suit is of an unusual design. The joints are segmented similar to the worm suit, but the rest of the suit is also segmented with a quilted appearance. These segments run parallel to the axis of the body parts such as the upper arms, forearms, chest, thighs and lower legs. The helmet is of the fishbowl type and has an oxygen mask attached to its front. The overall appearance bears a resemblance to a submarine escape suit of the era. Unfortunately no technical advisor is listed in the credits and the source of the suits is not revealed. Were the suits real engineering prototypes or were they produced by the costume department for this film? Read on.

The ‘Journey Into Space’ suit

On 21 September 1953, the British Broadcasting Commission (BBC) transmitted the first of a trilogy of radio serials under the title Journey into Space. The initial story followed the imagined exploits of Jet Morgan and the crew of rocket ship Luna on the first manned mission to the Moon⁽¹⁶⁾ and the script was written by a then young radio producer, Charles Chilton. The programme eventually attracted an audience of between five and six million listeners – the largest radio audience of the time in Britain and the last radio drama series to beat television in the ratings.

A tense moment in the 1953 film The Net as Professor Heathley, piloting a secret hypersonic aircraft, is held up at gun point by a foreign spy. Both crewmen are wearing pressure suits. But were these suits just props or real, designed to be worn by high-flying Royal Air Force pilots?

This submarine escape suit designed around the early 1950s appears similar to the pressure suits worn in the film The Net. The lumpy appearance of the ‘quilting’ is related to the incorporation of insulation material into the suit to prevent body-cooling in cold water and to provide floatation.

In 1954 publicity photographs were taken for Radio Times magazine showing the main Journey into Space actors dressed in spacesuits very similar to those worn in the motion picture The Net. It has been suggested that the suit used was borrowed from the Royal Aircraft Establishment (RAE) at Farnborough.⁽¹⁷⁾ To date however, no clear-cut documentary evidence has come to light to prove this point. At this time the fishbowl helmet did not have the attached oxygen mask seen in The Net. These publicity photographs clearly reveal that the helmet was attached to the suit by a locking ring. In addition, at least three connection points – possibly for breathing gas and electrical links – can be identified in the front of the suit. These details suggest that the suit may have been more than just a film prop.

The main actors who starred in the BBC radio production Journey Into Space are dressed for this publicity shoot for the Radio Times magazine in essentially the same pressure suit used earlier in the film The Net. Front left, Andrew Faulds as Jet; front right, Don Sharp as Mitch; back left, Alfie Bass as Lemmy; back right, Guy Kingsley Poynter as Doc. At this time, 1954, only one suit is said to have been available. Each member of the cast donned this suit and was photographed separately then the group shot was faked.

Jet Morgan kneels on the surface of Mars in his pressure suit. A depiction of a moment in the exciting and second story in the highly popular Journey Into Space trilogy broadcast by BBC Radio in the 1950s. The design of the suit is based on that used in the Radio Times publicity shoots. (Art by Glenn Steward)

Hard suits of the Fifties in fact and fiction

The hard suit concept was rarely seen in science factuals of this period despite the fact that serious efforts were still being made to bring this concept to fruition. An exception was the suit that appeared in the book written by US authors Jack Coggins and Fletcher Pratt.⁽¹⁸⁾ This book, By Space Ship to the Moon, has an introduction by German space expert Willy Ley, as did so many books of this era. The first edition appeared in 1952. Coggins’ artwork has a distinctly ‘clunky’ appearance. The spacecraft were huge with solid metal structures, which gave the appearance that they would have required massive rocket-boosters to place them into orbit. The metal spacesuits had a similar inordinately weighty appearance – the classic problem of the hard suit accentuated.

Experimental and bizarre-looking hard suit developed in 1953 but soon abandoned, not only because of its excessive weight, but also because it was so difficult to don and therefore impractical for operational use. Both rotary bearing and overlapping segmented joints have been used.

Heavy metal is given a new meaning in this space scenario. Solid-looking hard suits are worn by a construction crew transferring to a rendezvoused spaceship through a massive airlock door. Note the electric drill held by a claw manipulator attached to the spaceman’s forearm on the right. (From ‘By Space Ship to the Moon’ by Fletcher Pratt and Jack Coggins [illustrator], revised and with Introduction by Willy Ley, copyright 1952 and renewed 1980 by Random House, Inc. Used by permission of Random House Inc.)

Spacemen float in orbit above the Earth. At the Dawn of the Space Age this 1957 children’s book challenges the young mind to dream of ‘the coming exploration of the universe.’ (Art by John Polgreen)

Spacesuits for space-age children

In the latter half of the 1940s and first half of the 1950s, the popular culture of space really took off. Children born in the war years were hungry for anything about space flight, especially adventurous spacemen rocketing into orbit or heading to the Moon, and private enterprise was quick to lock into this market. As we have already seen in this chapter, relatively quickly and with increasing intensity, popular books, comics, magazines, films and even the infant television catered for this interest in space science, not only for adults but also for children. Children dressed up in spacesuits, played with space guns, space radios and a multitude of indoor space games. Pivotal to all these playthings was the image of the spacesuited hero. Fans of the 1955 film The Seven Year Itch starring Marilyn Monroe may recall seeing young Ricky Sherman sporting his space cadet costume complete with helmet, ‘oxygen supply’ backpack and rasping ray gun.

There is little doubt that the influence of these space products resulted in many children taking up science subjects at school and then progressing in their tertiary education into the fields of mathematics, engineering, physics and the biological sciences with a burning ambition to bring their dreams of space adventures to reality.

Princess meets spaceman. Spacesuit outfits became popular in the 1950s and competed successfully beside Western outfits for boys’ dress-up play.

Willy Ley, the well-known space science author, was the technical advisor for the 1953 children’s space novel containing this illustration. Ley acted as technical advisor to a large number of publications around this time. The suits are clearly based on Colley’s worm suit. Note that two competing helmet designs are depicted – the fishbowl and the close-fitting types. To what use the spaceman on the left would put his sheathed sword on this desolate asteroid is an intriguing question. (Art by Louis Glanzman)

Chapter Six

ON THE THRESHOLD
OF SPACE

The anti-g suit

THROUGHOUT the Second World War the maximum altitude and speed of combat aircraft increased steadily. These improvements were particularly true for fighter aircraft. Consequently, the forces to which fighter pilots were subjected during combat manoeuvres increased dramatically. In particular during banking, inside loops and pulling out of dives, the seated pilots sustained severe inertial forces directed from the head to the foot. This type of force is called positive-g because it effectively increases the body weight of the pilot during the manoeuvre and this force can be described in multiples of the force of gravity or ‘g’ for short. During positive-g the blood in the body, as a result of its inertia, tends to pool in the distensible blood vessels, particularly in the abdominal cavity, but also to a lesser extent in the legs. As a result of this pooling of blood, less blood passes to the brain. Firstly, the pilot suffers from a loss of vision – termed ‘blackout’ because the sense of vision is highly susceptible to lack of oxygen. If the g load further increases the pilot loses consciousness and finally may even fit.(1, ²⁾

Schematic diagram of anti-g suit. Inflation of the bladders around the abdomen and legs with air prevents blood from collecting in these regions during aircraft manoeuvres such as pulling out of a dive and so helps to maintain the blood and consequently the oxygen supply to the brain. (© K.G. Williams, ‘The New Frontier’, 1959)

In 1940 Professor Frank Cotton built a human centrifuge at the Medical School of the University of Sydney.⁽³⁾ This device enabled him to subject young airmen to positive-g force and then to develop a method of protecting them against its detrimental effects. As a result of his experiments he developed the world’s first anti-gravity suit. In principle, the anti-g suit, as it is known for short, consisted of a relatively tight pair of pants covering the abdomen and legs. Incorporated in these pants was a set of air-filled bladders, which could be inflated automatically as the g force increased.⁽⁴⁾ This counter-pressure reduced the pooling of blood in the abdominal and leg blood vessels and hence improved the blood circulation to the brain, thereby increasing the physiological tolerance of the pilot to positive-g force.

Squadron Leader Ken V. Robertson wearing Professor Frank S. Cotton’s prototype anti-g suit at the RAAF Aircraft Performance Unit at Laverton, Victoria, in 1943. This work was probably the most advanced in this field at that time. The aircraft that the tests were conducted in is behind Robertson in the photograph – the only Australian-based Hawker Hurricane on RAAF strength during the war. Hurricane Mk.1, V7476, arrived in 1941 and lasted until 1951, when this unique aircraft was sold as scrap. (By kind permission of the RAAF Museum, Point Cook, Victoria)

Positive pressure breathing and the counter-pressure vest

As we have already seen in earlier chapters, when human beings, who are breathing air, ascend to altitudes above 3000 metres (10,000 feet) physiological function begins to be impaired, especially brain function. Common symptoms are difficulty concentrating and sleepiness.⁽⁵⁾ The ability to deal with complex problems is also reduced which may have serious outcomes for flight crew operations. The oxygen pressure in the arterial blood at 3000 metres is 60 Torr (8.0 kilopascals; 1.2 pounds per square inch). However, if a person is breathing pure oxygen by a face mask then he can ascend to an altitude of 12200 metres (40,000 feet) before the oxygen pressure in his arterial blood again falls to 60 Torr. In an attempt to maintain normal brain-nerve-muscle (psychomotor) function in flight crew above this altitude, it was found that the arterial oxygen pressure could be maintained at 60 Torr if the oxygen supply was fed to the crew member via a face mask at a pressure that was above that surrounding the body. This method was termed positive pressure breathing. Thus if the aircraft rose to an altitude of 13100 metres (43,000 feet) the arterial oxygen in the blood would normally fall to 45 Torr (6.0 kilopascals; 0.9 pounds per square inch); but if the oxygen supply was fed to the lungs at a pressure of 15 Torr (2.0 kilopascals; 0.3 pounds per square inch) above the atmospheric pressure at this altitude then the arterial blood would be maintained at 60 Torr. There was, however, a limit to the size of this positive pressure effect because the resulting increased pressure inside the chest would prevent blood from returning to the heart, which could lead to a reduction in the volume of blood pumped out of the heart and unconsciousness could follow. Another problem was that during breathing in, the oxygen was driven into the lungs under positive pressure, but breathing out required forceful muscular movement by the person to push the gas out of the lungs against this positive pressure. This problem could be relieved to some extent by applying the same pressure as that in the mask to the outside of the chest using an inflatable counter-pressure vest similar to the air-filled bladders used in anti-g suits.(6, ⁷⁾

Schematic of a positive pressure breathing device and a counter-pressure vest. This device supplied pure oxygen at high pressure by a face mask to the pilot’s lungs and allowed him to fly higher than otherwise possible. To prevent the pilot’s chest from over-expanding, counter-pressure was applied by a vest containing an air bladder. (© K.G. Williams, ‘The New Frontier’, 1959)

Partial pressure suit

Unfortunately the simple counter-pressure vest described above does not prevent the pooling of blood in the upper and lower limbs during positive pressure breathing and there is a limit to the positive pressure that can be applied because of the impairment of both circulatory and breathing functions. In addition there was an urgent requirement for emergency protection against decompression sickness if a pressurised cockpit was suddenly holed by enemy fire and lost pressure.

In 1943 at the University of Southern California, Dr. James Paget Henry developed and patented a partial pressure suit that could apply counter-pressure to most of the body. Henry was born in Germany but emigrated initially to England and then to the USA where he obtained his MD degree. In 1943, as a Colonel in the USAF Medical Corps, he worked on acceleration physiology using a human centrifuge at the University of Southern California. The partial pressure suit incorporated inflatable tubes that extended down the torso and limbs called capstans. Interlocking tapes connected these tubes to the fabric of the suit so that when the tubes were inflated the tapes pulled evenly on the fabric causing counter-pressure along the length of the torso and limbs. In 1945 the prototype of Henry’s partial pressure suit was designated S-1 by the Army Air Corps.⁽⁸⁾ Alice King Chatham, a fine arts graduate, hand-made a soft helmet for the S-2 suit, which evolved from the S-1. This full head helmet eliminated the need for an oxygen mask. Charles B. ‘Chuck’ Yeager, the renowned American test pilot, wore this type of suit when he broke the sound barrier in the Bell X-1 rocket plane on 14 October 1947. Dr. Henry asked the David Clark Company, which had been involved in the development of the anti-g suit, to develop his prototype S-1 into an operational model known as T-1. It possessed a new two-piece hard helmet designed like a clamshell in place of the original soft helmet.

When a partial pressure suit is activated air under pressure enters tubes called capstans which inflate along the limbs and body and pull on tapes bound to the pressure garment so that the fabric of the garment tightens on the pilot’s skin.

A T-1 partial pressure suit constructed by the David Clark Company for the US Air Force. It was a development of the S-1 suit. An X-ray tube (left) and a fluoroscopy screen over the pilot’s chest are positioned so that a movie camera (right) can film the images of the heart and lungs when the suit is activated.

The naked hand in the stratosphere – boiling body fluids

With partial pressure suits the hands and feet were generally not enclosed in the suit.⁽⁹⁾ In 1944 Dr. Henry, dressed in his prototype partial pressure suit was at a simulated altitude of 17.7 kilometres (58,000 feet) when his hands suddenly swelled to twice their normal size, but it is unclear whether this was due to nitrogen gas bubbles or boiling of tissue fluid. He found that tightly fitting gloves controlled this problem.⁽²¹⁾ Consequently there was a question of whether the hands and the feet needed to be enclosed routinely to protect them against the effects of reduced pressure at high altitudes. At normal atmospheric pressure, water boils at a temperature of 100 degrees Centigrade. However if the atmospheric pressure drops to 47 Torr (6.3 kilopascals; 0.9 pounds per square inch), which occurs at an altitude of 19.2 kilometres (63,000 feet), water will boil at our normal body temperature of 37 degrees Centigrade.(10, ¹¹⁾ Theoretically, as soon as the barometric pressure around the unprotected body drops to or below 47 Torr, the body fluids should boil. Manifestations of this phenomenon are bubbles in the membranes lining the mouth and on the surface of the eye, swelling of the skin due to diffuse bubble formation and bubbles in the blood. However further chamber tests with altitudes up to 24.4 kilometres (80,000 feet), with the subjects wearing partial pressure suits and tightly fitting gloves, did not result in uncontrolled tissue swelling in hands or feet.⁽¹²⁾ These observations indicated that there is no fixed altitude boundary for the boiling of body fluids. The exact altitude at which any particular fluid will boil is dependent upon a number of highly inconstant variables.⁽¹³⁾

Test subject in T-1 partial pressure suit in a decompression chamber decompressed to a pressure equivalent to 19196 metres (63,000 feet). Note water in container boils into foam at this pressure. The unprotected hands could swell suddenly at these low pressures probably due to tissue fluid boiling. (USAF)

These emergency partial pressure suits were satisfactory if they were required only to protect the pilot for short durations of six to ten minutes as might occur in fighter aircraft if there was a sudden loss of cabin pressure.(12, ¹⁴⁾ The inflated suit restricted mobility and produced breathing fatigue. In 1953 planning was under way to bring the USAF’s Boeing B-52 strategic bomber into service. This remarkable aircraft was designed to fly for hours at altitudes between 15 and 21 kilometres (50,000 to 70,000 feet).⁽⁸⁾ If the cabin suddenly decompressed at these altitudes, the crew would be in critical danger of hypoxia and decompression sickness. If they descended to a safer altitude, they could be in great danger of enemy attack. A full pressure suit that could be worn for an hour or more could save their lives. The USAF pressed on trying to perfect its partial pressure suit but the problems of comfort, mobility, ventilation, donning, fitting and connections with other flight equipment continued to dog the project.⁽¹²⁾

The remarkable Boeing B-52, whose introduction into service in the 1950s accelerated the need for the development of partial or full pressure suits for the crew. Above is the XB-52 on the flight line with a Northrop X-4 in the foreground and some Convair B-36s behind. Below is the YB-52. Both these early developments used a forward fuselage and canopy design, similar to the B-47. (USAF)

This prototype British lightweight full pressure suit of circa the late 1950s depended upon careful attention to tailoring design in order to allow reasonable mobility of the shoulder joints when the suit was inflated. The occupant of the suit is wearing a face mask under the soft fabric helmet. The use of this soft helmet suggests that this suit was designed for emergency use in case of sudden loss of pressure in the aircraft cabin. The suit would allow the crew to survive until they reached a safe altitude at which they could breathe air from outside of the aircraft.

A relatively rare photograph reveals the ‘H shaped’ positioning of the capstan tube on the back of a partial pressure suit. This arrangement allowed the suit fabric, enclosing the torso of the body, to be pulled tautly onto the body surface upon inflation of the capstan tubing. Unfortunately it was never possible to apply this mechanical pressure to all the body surface and even this pressure was not distributed evenly. This critical shortcoming pushed engineers and physiologists onwards to try to perfect ‘the beast’ known as the full pressure suit, the progenitor of the spacesuit to come.

(a) In a full pressure suit the gas pressure is distributed evenly over the whole body including the limbs. (b) In a partial pressure suit mechanical pressure is applied only to the portion of the body tissue directly in contact with the taut fabric of the suit. In this way these suits can reduce, but not abolish, the risk of tissue boiling. However, it has no effect on the formation of nitrogen bubbles in deep body tissues and hence on decompression sickness.

The danger of decompression sickness

The danger of decompression sickness becomes significant at altitudes above 9 kilometres (30,000 feet). Sudden loss of cabin pressure can result in surplus tissue nitrogen forming bubbles with symptoms of choking and joint pain. This process can take up to an hour to become apparent to the victim so it is a much greater problem for bomber crew than fighter pilots.⁽¹⁵⁾ A fundamental problem with the partial pressure suit is that it can only apply mechanical pressure to some superficial areas of the body and so can only inhibit the formation of bubbles in these specific locations. Only a full pressure suit that completely encloses the pilot or aircrew in a pressurised bladder can apply an even gas pressure throughout the whole body and thereby provide total protection against decompression sickness.

The Goodrich heavy pressure suit

In 1949 the US Navy placed a contract with the B.F. Goodrich Company of Akron, Ohio to improve and adapt the principles developed in its earlier suits. Work began that year and culminated in 1952 with a suit that was not shown to the general public until the following year. Mobility was improved by the use of rotating bearings at the shoulders and so-called corrugated joints at the elbows and knees. The suit was made of vulcanised rubber, which reduced suit gas leakage to practical limits.(16, ¹⁷⁾ Visibility was good due to the dome-shaped Plexiglass helmet. The pilot wore a crash helmet under this dome to which a face mask was attached. The manual adjustment of the suit pressure, which had been used in previous suits, was done away with by the incorporation of an automatic device called the controller. This mechanism maintained the suit at a pressure equivalent to 10.7 kilometres (35,000 feet) no matter what the altitude was above 10.7 kilometres. The pilot would breathe pure oxygen through the face mask.

There was intense competition between the Air Force and the Navy pressure suit development teams. A contemporary independent report stated: “It is claimed by the Navy that the user has almost complete mobility, but the US Air Force is reported as saying that it abandoned research along the same lines some time ago because suits of this type were so cumbersome that the wearer could not move properly…We do not wish to become embroiled in the argument but must say we are in favour of being alive and stiff rather than dead and stiff.”⁽¹⁸⁾ The Navy Goodrich heavy suit then went through a series of modifications from 1955 to 1957 which were labelled in order of evolution, models H, L, M, R and S, but it was apparent that the equipment remained too cumbersome and bulky for operational use.⁽¹⁷⁾

B.F. Goodrich heavy suit of 1952 constructed for the US Navy. Note the rotary bearings at the shoulders and the corrugated rubber joints at the elbows and knees. The rubber fingers are segmented to hopefully increase dexterity. Above: Front view of the suit undergoing pressurisation in a test facility. (USN)

The same suit showing more clearly the emergency ejection system for high-altitude escape. A Viking research rocket takes off in the background. (© IPC + Syndication, 1953)

Two variants of the US Navy Goodrich S suit in 1955 in a simulated space setting. Note the lacing at various locations for adjusting the fit of the suit and the fabric pleating of the tucked joints.

The tucked joint and the Navy Mark I to IV pressure suits

The Goodrich S model was manufactured in 1956 in limited quantities and was designated Mark I. This model then evolved through four versions, namely Mark I to IV, in an attempt to reduce its bulk and weight. The Mark II model, also of 1956, used lightweight rubberised fabric and replaced the corrugated rubber segments with small semi-rigid pleats to accommodate flexing at the elbows, thighs and knees, which considerably improved mobility. The fabric of the restraint layer was tucked into itself to form a series of overlapping pleats at right angles to the long axis of the joint, as are the segments of a collapsible telescope. These joints became known as tucked or flat pattern joints. Tethers ran down each side of the joint to reduce the lengthening of the joint when the suit was pressurised. The interior gas-retaining bladder consisted of a neoprene-coated nylon and Heleneca stretch-knit fabric. The outer restraint layer was made of non-stretch nylon twill which controlled the shape of the bladder.⁽⁸⁾ When the suit was pressurised and the joint was flexed, on the outside of the bend the pleats distended out to form a series of crude bellows shapes. On the inside of the bend the pleats were compressed and slid over one another. A prominent feature of these suits was the lacing at multiple junctions on limbs and torso to adjust the fit for different sizes of aircrew.

The helmets were of the so-called close-fitting type in which the head was snugly surrounded by the helmet. The base of the fibreglass shell of the helmet was attached to a metal ring, which was locked into a neck ring at the top of the suit’s torso. The helmet could rotate at this junction in either direction.⁽¹⁹⁾

Clearly an enormous amount of effort had gone into trying to develop a satisfactory full pressure suit over many years, but all had failed to live up to expectations. The Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) and the US military needed a solution urgently. Over-flights of the Soviet Union were crucial for US security and test flights of the super-secret U-2 spy plane had started in 1955 at the remote Area 51 base in Nevada. Some kind of stopgap suit was required within twelve months – not years. The major problem with full pressure suits still remained: how to provide them with reasonably mobile joints when they were pressurised?⁽²⁰⁾

This three dimensional see-through image shows the principle of a single pleat of a tucked joint of a pressure suit. As the joint is bent, the fabric rolls over itself on the inside of the bend, making a deeper pleat and unrolls on the outside of the bend making a shallower pleat. The suit, when pressurised, is prevented from elongating at this point by tethers attached length-wise on the sides of the joint. (Illustration by Tim Brown)

‘Yo-ho-ho and a bottle of rum’: The overlapping segments of a pirate’s telescope demonstrate the basic concept of a series of overlapping pleats in a tucked joint of a pressure suit.

Pressure bladders of David Clark light pressure suits. The far bladder is undergoing a pressurisation test and the near bladder is uninflated. (Kevin Svectos)

The breakthrough – the David Clark slip-knit suit

The idea of a suit that could go the whole way on a mission in the pressurised state was abandoned and the objective became much less ambitious. Only an emergency-type pressure suit that would allow the crew to descend to a safe altitude in the face of cabin decompression was required.

A monumental breakthrough came in 1956 when the David Clark Company and the Air Research and Development Command gave the USAF its first practical full pressure suit. The David Clark Company of Worcester, Massachusetts was established in 1935 as a textile business and developed unique knitted materials for speciality undergarments. Its founder, Mr. David M. Clark, is quoted as saying: ‘We began making bras in 1947, after we had been in the g-suit and pressure garment business for some eight years. Designing bras was fairly easy. It’s another g problem, a weight-supporting problem, that’s all.’⁽²¹⁾

In a little over six months the David Clark Company had completed an emergency-type suit and no attempt was made to incorporate the specialised joints that had caused so much angst in the past. The construction of the suit was quite different from anything that had gone before. It did not incorporate segmented joints.⁽⁸⁾ There were two layers. The inner gas impermeable pressure bladder was man-shaped and allowed a full standing position. It was made of nylon fabric, which was spread-coated with neoprene. The outer restraint layer was a fabric made of nylon cords woven in a link-net fashion.

FACT FILE

LINK-NET WEAVE

Fishing and mosquito nets and hosiery are the main uses for link-net weave.

1) It is distinguished by an open diamond shaped pattern.

2) It is distensible and the slip-knit characteristic it possesses allows it to be deformed to a variety of shapes and subsequently recover its original pattern.

This soft slip-knit nylon, which was like fishnet, was slightly smaller than the pressure bladder. When the suit was inflated the outer net layer was so designed that it took the pressure load and distributed it evenly through the pressure bladder and prevented the bladder from ballooning at any one part, but allowed it to bunch into the desired shape. When pressurised the suit gave acceptable mobility and comfort. Neoprene-coated socks were permanently fixed to the leg endings and standard leather boots were worn over the socks. Only one rotatable bearing was used in the suit and this was located at the neck where a neck ring attached to the helmet. This suit permitted flights by aircrew with relative safety to the threshold of space.

Effect of pressurisation on a tubular section of pressure bladder with and without an outer link-net restraint layer. a. (left) unpressurised the two cylinders are of equal length and diameter, b. (right) shows the effect of pressurisation on the two cylinders. The cylinder without the net increases in length and diameter, while the cylinder with the net increases in diameter but decreases in length.

At rest in a hammock – one of the many uses of link-net woven nylon.

A pilot strides towards the super-secret SR-71 spy plane in his David Clark full pressure suit. He is carrying a portable air-conditioning unit which will keep his suit at a tolerable temperature until he can connect to the aircraft’s own unit. The enormous political pressure in the United States in the late 1950s to keep abreast of the Soviet intercontinental missile programme led to the urgent development of this milestone in pressure suit evolution. The David Clark suit worn by the U-2 spy plane pilots was basically the same design. (Kevin Svectos)

Both the Lockheed SR-71 ‘Blackbird’ (above) and the Lockheed U-2 (below) were developed during the Cold War by the US for long-range high-altitude reconnaissance. The crews of these specialised aircraft used the David Clark full pressure suit. (USAF)

Chapter Seven

EARLY SPACESUITS

X-15 pressure suit

IN 1952 the US National Advisory Committee on Aeronautics (NACA) set its laboratories the task of studying the problems likely to be encountered in flight beyond the atmosphere. Both ballistic and aerodynamic configurations were considered and eventually the decision was taken in favour of a piloted research aircraft.⁽¹⁾ In June 1954 a meeting was held between representatives of NACA, the USAF and the Navy Bureau of Aeronautics to discuss the merits of the manned aircraft as an extension of the cooperative programme begun with the X-series of research aircraft. It will be recalled that this series started with the Bell X-1 rocket-powered aircraft, which was the first manned aircraft to exceed the speed of sound in level flight in the hands of the veteran test pilot ‘Chuck’ Yeager in October 1947. As a result invitations were issued in December 1954 to various contractors with experience in high-performance aircraft to participate in the design studies for a craft to be called the X-15. In December 1955 North American Aviation was awarded the contract to manufacture three aircraft.

The X-15 was designed to operate at altitudes up to 80 kilometres (50 miles) and at speeds nearly seven times the speed of sound.⁽²⁾ One aspect of the aircraft’s development was that a great deal of research had gone into the arrangements for an emergency escape. The two options were a detachable escape capsule or a full pressure suit in combination with an ejector seat.⁽¹⁾ Debate raged for some time between the proponents of the two concepts. Eventually the pressure suit with ejector seat won out.⁽³⁾

The North American Aviation test pilots for the X-15 programme were Scott Crossfield and Alvin White.⁽⁴⁾ Crossfield had a special interest in pressure suits and he was convinced that the pressure suit and ejector seat combination was the way to go as the method of emergency escape. He had been heavily involved in the creation of the early suits by the David Clark Company and considered Clark to be a genius.⁽³⁾ Initially the firm produced a suit known as the XMC-2-DC which evolved into the MC2 and then into a standard Air Force high-altitude full pressure garment known as the A/P22S-2 model.⁽⁵⁾

Major Robert M. White wearing the full pressure suit worn by pilots of the very successful X-15 rocket plane seen in the background. While the US struggled with its manned orbital project, Mercury, some face was saved by the brief flights of this craft to the threshold of space. (NASA)

FACT FILE

X-15 ROCKET PLANE

Main objective: Hypersonic manned flight with the attitude control of a spacecraft on the threshold of space using small rocket thrusters.

Design: Single seat aircraft to be dropped from a modified B-52 bomber.

Rocket power: One liquid propellant rocket motor with thrust not exceeding 22,680 kilograms (50,000 pounds).

Maximum speed: 7272 kilometres per hour (4,520 miles per hour).

Maximum altitude: 107.8 kilometres (67 miles).

Dryden Research Flight Center pilot Neil Armstrong is seen here next to the X-15 aircraft No.1 (56-6670) after a research flight on 1 January 1960. Nine years later on 21 July 1969, Neil would become famous as the first man to set foot on the Moon, followed by Buzz Aldrin. The X-15 was flown over a period of nearly 10 years, from June 1959 to October 1968. It set the world’s unofficial speed and altitude records. Information gained from the highly successful X-15 programme contributed to the development of the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo manned space flight programmes, and also the Space Shuttle programme. (NASA)

Boeing NB-52A (s/n 52-003) permanent test variant, carrying North American Aviation’s legendary X-15. (USAF)

An X-15 on the edge of space. The X-15s made a total of 199 flights, and were manufactured by North American Aviation. (USAF)

FACT FILE

PROJECT MERCURY

Main objective: USA’s and NASA’s first manned space flight programme designed to place a US astronaut into orbit.

Capsule design: A tiny bell-shaped capsule with accommodation for one astronaut seated throughout the mission.

Launch vehicle: A modified Atlas ICBM one-and-a-half stage liquid propellant rocket.

166,500 kilograms (367,000 pounds) total thrust.

Number of missions: Two sub-orbital and four orbital missions.

Duration of orbital missions: Five to 34 hours.

Mercury spacecraft with retrorocket pack and escape tower

The Mercury spacesuit

Dramatically, on 4 October 1957, the world’s first man-made Earth satellite was shot into orbit by Soviet Russia which heralded the birth of the Space Age. In the USA this spectacular – and for the Americans, demoralising – Soviet achievement brought about a decisive change in its thinking about space exploration, in particular the need for a serious concerted effort to achieve manned space flight. Within 12 months the NACA had become the National Aeronautics and Space Administration (NASA) and its first Administrator, T. Keith Glennan, had committed NASA to the development of the United States’ first manned space flight programme. On 26 November 1958 Glennan and Deputy Director Hugh L. Dryden named the manned satellite enterprise ‘Mercury.’⁽²⁾

In 1947 the Air Force and Navy agreed to specialise in developing partial pressure and full pressure flying suits respectively. However the line was distinctly blurred and the rivalry to perfect a full pressure suit became more intense than ever. None of the suits developed so far was satisfactory for the extreme altitude protection required by the Mercury astronauts. Through the spring of 1959 three companies competed to provide that suit – the David Clark Company, the Playtex division of the International Latex Corporation of Dover, Delaware (the division that produced women’s girdles and babies’ milk bottles) and the B.F. Goodrich Company.⁽¹¹⁾ The Air Force Aeromedical Laboratory at Wright Air Development Center and the Navy Air Crew Equipment Laboratory in Philadelphia evaluated the suits. Predictably, the Air Force favoured the Clark suit and the Navy the Goodrich suit. NASA’s Space Task Group informed both groups to continue work for several more months but, ultimately, Goodrich was awarded the prime contract for the Mercury spacesuit on 22 July 1959.⁽²⁾

One of the most senior employees at the Goodrich Company was Russ Colley. It will be recalled that Colley had been instrumental in the creation of the very early pressure suit for Wiley Post who wanted to fly to altitudes around 8500 metres (28,000 feet) in his aircraft Winnie Mae. In 1959 Colley, along with his colleagues at Goodrich, modified the Navy Mark IV pressure suit for orbital flight.⁽²⁾ Late the previous year the Air Force had authorised production of the Navy Mark IV full pressure suit for squadrons stationed in colder areas of the United States. The suit weighed nine kilograms and consisted of a one-piece garment plus helmet, gloves and boots. A pressure-sealing zipper cut diagonally across the chest section. It provided greater mobility when in the unpressurised state in the shoulders, legs and arms because of the Helenca stretch-knit fabric tailored into the construction of the inner layer in those areas of the suit.⁽⁶⁾ Although the Project Mercury suit underwent further development by the B.F. Goodrich Company, the line of development from X-15 to Mercury suit was not an entirely linear one and security surrounding the U-2 and SR-71 Blackbird spy aircraft programmes may have obscured some of this history.⁽³⁾

The last in the line of the B.F. Goodrich S series of full pressure suits for the Navy, the Mark IV seen here, was modified in 1959 by the now almost legendary personality, Russ Colley, for orbital flight in Project Mercury.

A test subject inside a Mercury suit is exposed to a suit pressure of only 181 Torr (24.1 kilopascals; 3.5 pounds per square inch), which was close to the minimum pressure required for human survival if the Mercury capsule lost its oxygen atmosphere into space. Clearly, even at this low pressure, the subject is restricted to the so-called neutral position of the pressure bladder and is virtually immobilised. (NASA)

Structure of the Mercury spacesuit

There were three major components to the Mercury spacesuit – the torso, the helmet and the gloves. The torso was specially tailored for each of the seven astronauts. This section was a two-layered construction: an inner gas retaining bladder of neoprene and neoprene-coated nylon fabric and an outer layer of heat reflective, aluminised nylon fabric. Straps attached to the neck and torso held a cable which would keep the helmet in position in relation to the torso if the suit was pressurised and the suit ballooned. Donning and doffing the suit was via a pressure-sealing zipper, which extended diagonally across the front of the torso from the left shoulder down to the waist. Ventilation was provided by a system of tubes on the inside of the suit that led to the body extremities. These tubes were constructed from a helical spring covered by a neoprene-coated nylon fabric that contained perforations at regular intervals to distribute the pure oxygen.

The helmet consisted of a hard fibreglass shell impregnated with resin with an individually moulded crushable impact liner, a ventilation exhaust outlet, a visor sealing system and a communications system. Poor mobility in wrist action during the first manned Mercury flight – Alan B. Shepard Jr.’s brief suborbital mission on 5 May 1961 – required attention. From Virgil I. ‘Gus’ Grissom’s suborbital flight on 21 July 1961 onwards, the gloves were attached to the suit torso at the lower forearm by nylon-sealed ball bearing ring locks.⁽²⁾ The gloves, like the torso, had a two-ply construction. The inner gas retaining layer was fabricated by dipping a mould of the astronaut’s hand into a liquid rubber compound. Lacings were provided on the back of the gloves for minor adjustments. When pressurised, the gloves’ fingers assumed the same contour as the control stick which could operate the three-axis spacecraft attitude control system. Two restraint straps at the wrist were provided to form break lines to improve mobility of the glove during pressurisation. The concept of ‘break lines’ is explained later in this chapter. A miniature red light was attached near the tips of the index and middle fingers to allow instrument panel and chart illumination and was powered by a battery pack and switch on the back of the gloves.

Lightweight aluminised nylon fabric boots were specially designed for the Mercury pressure suit. Next to their skin the astronauts wore a one-piece lightweight cotton undergarment with long sleeves and legs. Ventilation spacer patches were incorporated on the outside of this undergarment to ensure that ventilating gas flowed over certain critical areas of the body.⁽⁷⁾

Alan B. Shepard, the first Mercury astronaut to fly a suborbital mission into space. The photograph shows helmet and upper torso of the pressure suit. A cable and strapping hold the helmet in position if the suit is pressurised. A pulley within the cable tethering point on the chest allows the cable to slide through it as the helmet is turned. Visor is open. Twin microphones of the communication system are clearly visible. (NASA)

John Glenn, the first US astronaut into orbit, has his right glove fitted to the suit forearm via a fully rotatable ball bearing lock. (NASA)

Astronaut Shepard struggles into his pressure suit. Note patches sewn on the chest and upper arms of his undergarment to allow adequate flow of ventilating oxygen to these areas of the body. (NASA)

A pressure suit environmental control system in the body of the spacecraft provided breathing oxygen, maintained suit pressurisation, removed metabolic products namely carbon dioxide, water vapour and odours, and maintained the gas temperature. A cabin pressure regulator metered pure oxygen into the cabin to maintain the lower limit of pressurisation of 35 per cent of one atmosphere (266 Torr; 35.5 kilopascals; 5.1 pounds per square inch).⁽⁷⁾

The Mercury environmental system was an amazing achievement for its time given the incredibly small volume into which it had to be crammed. (NASA)

Engineering tests showed that the heat load inside the capsule during re-entry from space would not be as great as expected which allowed the pressure suit developers to remove much of the insulation previously thought necessary. Pressurisation of the prototype suits was found to stretch the suits out of shape. A variety of new textiles had to be tested until the problem was solved. A multitude of minor problems with zippers, the visor, the segmented shoulder, lacing, straps, snaps, seams, valves, underwear, gloves, microphones and neck dams continued until a ‘gripe session’ was held in mid-May 1960. At this definitive meeting, the astronauts and their tailors essentially agreed on what the well-dressed man would wear in space.⁽²⁾

Fabric break lines, which were circumferential restraints, sewn into the Mercury suit at shoulders, elbows and knees were intended to provide a limited degree of mobility if the suit was pressurised. Note, for example, the position of these restraints at astronaut Shepard’s knees. The suit is unpressurised. (NASA)

The concept of fabric break lines and the segmented soft fabric joint

In an attempt to provide some limited joint mobility if the suit had to be pressurised in an emergency, the elbows and knees were provided with so-called fabric break lines. These break lines were inelastic circumferential restraints sewn around the elbows and knees of the suit to provide places where the garment was cinched so that the diameter of the suit was reduced at these locations. These break lines were tethered laterally so that the suit would bend more easily at these joints. But even with these break lines it was difficult for the pilot to bend his arms or legs when the suit was pressurised. As the joint was bent, the suit folded in on itself resulting in an overall reduction in the volume of the joint and consequently an increase in the internal pressure of the suit.⁽⁸⁾ A fundamental problem as we have seen, the joints were not iso-volumetric. When inflated under test conditions the fabric between the break lines tended to balloon and gave the joints the appearance of the segmented joints of the old ‘worm’ suits developed in the Second World War.

The Mercury suit was worn as a backup to the spacecraft cabin atmosphere and would have been pressurised only if cabin pressure was lost. Fortunately that never happened. The Mercury astronauts were virtually immobilised in their custom-made restraint couches. The effective space in which they could move was only about 0.3 cubic metres (10 cubic feet),(1, ⁹⁾ so the mobility shortcomings of the suit were masked to some extent by the astronauts being confined to such a small space.⁽¹⁰⁾

The first Soviet spacesuit

The successful maiden flight by the Soviet Union of its seemingly huge (at the time) R7 intercontinental ballistic missile on 15 May 1957 gave the Soviet Union the ability to achieve major advances in the early days of the Space Age. Significantly, it now had the rocket power to launch a large space capsule which could keep a man alive in orbit around the Earth. A critical item for this Soviet mission was the provision of a spacesuit capable of protecting the cosmonaut from the vacuum of space if the cabin of the Vostok spacecraft sprang a leak and lost its atmosphere.

Soviet cosmonaut Mihailov in training wearing a partial pressure suit, probably of the VKK series which was similar to the David Clark T-1 suit. In a few seconds the chamber pressure will decrease to a near vacuum. Note the cosmonaut is wearing gloves which would help to prevent the hands from swelling upon depressurisation.

Early Soviet partial pressure suit. Note the capstan tubes running down both the outer edge of the suit’s legs and the arms. These tubes also extend onto the back so that if cabin pressure is lost the entire suit can tighten over the pilot’s body thereby reducing the risk of swelling due to tissue boiling. (By kind permission of Classic Jets Fighter Museum, Parafield, South Australia. Photography by the author)

Pressure suit development in the Soviet Union began around the time that Wiley Post’s suit featured in Soviet newspapers in 1934.⁽¹¹⁾ In 1955 high-flying Soviet airmen could be protected by partial pressure suits similar to the David Clark T-1 suit. These suits were coded ‘VKK’ and were known as ‘high altitude compensation suits’. Readers may recall that the key feature of partial pressure suits was a capstan tube which, if cabin pressure was lost suddenly, inflated and pulled the suit tautly around much of the airman’s body. In this way mechanical pressure was applied to the skin which inhibited the development of gas bubbles in the underlying tissues. In the late 1950s full pressure suits such as the experimental S-10 were developed.⁽¹²⁾

On 12 April 1961 a very brave cosmonaut, Yuri Gagarin, was rocketed into orbit, circled the Earth once in his Vostok 1 spacecraft and returned safely to Earth. Despite the fact that the United States had been bracing itself for the possibility of losing this contest, nevertheless it was still a major shock to be absorbed by the fledgling US space programme. The first Soviet spacesuit was designed specifically for Gagarin and was designated SK-1. This code name stood for the initials of the words ‘Skafandr Kosmicheskiy’ meaning ‘diving suit for space’. So the historical origin of the spacesuit was duly recognised in the name of the first suit to be worn by a man in space (see chapter 1). At first sight the bright orange-coloured nylon coverall predominates, but this feature conceals the critical component of the suit which would have protected the cosmonaut in case of capsule decompression, the pressure garment. The actual pressure bladder has been described as a grey-checked pressure liner with connectors for life support and communication hoses.⁽¹³⁾

This cutaway diagram shows the basic structure of the pressure-retaining garment of the spacesuit worn by Gagarin and subsequent Vostok spacecraft cosmonauts. 1. hard-shell helmet, 2. helmet tethering cable and pulley system, 3. pressure bladder outer layer of Dacron for heat and abrasion protection and load bearing during suit pressurisation, 4. one of three pipes and cables joining the suit and the spacecraft life support system, 5. common connection junction between suit and spacecraft life support system, 6. second elastic layer, 7. blue rubber pressure bladder, 8. sky blue ventilation layer consisted of a lightweight porous material which supported a system of ventilation tubes for temperature regulation, 9. blue woollen comfort layer was worn next to the skin and incorporated the biomedical sensors, 10. the pressure tight socks were sealed to the pressure bladder, 11. black lace-up boots, 12. orange coverall, 13. removable pressure glove, 14. suit pressure regulator, 15. soft communications cap. (C.P. Umanski, Clothing of Cosmonauts 1982)

The world’s first spacesuit, SK-1 – or at least a part of it, namely the brightly coloured nylon coverall, worn in orbit by Yuri Gagarin on 12 April 1961.

FACT FILE

PROJECT GEMINI

Main objective: NASA’s second generation manned spacecraft designed to place two seated astronauts in a new larger capsule into orbit. Practise the method of guiding two spacecraft to rendezvous and link up in space, a critical technique to allow the manned moon landing programme, Apollo, to proceed. Achieve a US ‘walk’ and work in space.

Capsule design: Bell shape similar to Mercury but with 50 per cent more cabin space and advanced technology including fuel cells for electricity production as planned for Apollo.

Launch vehicle: Titan II ICBM two stage liquid propellant rocket. 195,000 kilograms (430,000 pounds) total thrust of first stage.

Number of missions: Ten orbital missions.

Duration of missions: Five hours to 14 days.

The Gemini spacesuit

On 25 May 1961 President John F. Kennedy announced to the Congress and the American nation that the United States should commit itself to the goal of placing a man on the Moon before the decade was out.⁽¹⁴⁾ To have any chance of achieving this goal several aspects of manned space flight needed to be investigated urgently so that the findings could be incorporated into the moon landing project, called Apollo. Could humans survive in space for the seven or more days it would take to go to the Moon and back? Could spacecraft be made to rendezvous and dock in orbit? Could astronauts venture out into space to repair or build spacecraft? The fastest way to answer these questions was to scale up the Project Mercury capsule in order to house two astronauts and to incorporate into it technology necessary for Apollo such as fuel cells. Thus the highly successful Project Gemini was born in December 1961.

The B.F. Goodrich Company was selected initially to manufacture the suits for the Gemini missions in 1962. Much greater demands would be made on these suits. They had to be comfortable so that the astronauts could wear them for much longer missions. Goodrich submitted a suit coded G2G, but NASA rejected it. Instead it awarded the contract to the David Clark Company which, surprisingly, had missed out on winning the Mercury contract. Initially Clark put together a suit called G1C, which used Goodrich gloves, helmet and other hardware. As a result of the shortcomings of this compromise suit, Clark then proceeded to produce a new suit coded G2C, which was tested in 1963. Although on the right track it was not entirely satisfactory and was further modified to become the G3C suit. Gus Grissom and John W. Young wore this suit on the first manned Gemini flight, Gemini III, on 23 March 1965. The outer layer was a high temperature-resistant nylon material. The next layer was the key element of David Clark suits, namely the link-net material, which was especially designed to provide pressurised mobility and to control ballooning of the neoprene-coated nylon pressure-retaining bladder. Finally there was an inner comfort layer of nylon, which was included to minimise discomfort from pressure points due to various suit components. A ventilation tree was snapped to the outside of the comfort liner. The comfort layer was smooth and slippery and moved easily over the astronaut’s cotton underwear.⁽¹⁵⁾ A double zipper was added to the pressure-sealing closure of the suit to increase protection against catastrophic failure. The suit was found to be satisfactory for short duration missions and no significant problems were encountered.

After several developmental stages the David Clark company produced the first suit for the manned Gemini mission codenamed ‘G3C’. It was to be worn inside the spacecraft and was not rated for extravehicular activities. (NASA)

Ventilation distribution system for the G3C suit was quite sophisticated but proved inadequate to deal with the heat load produced by hard working astronauts ‘walking’ in space. (NASA)

The suit now needed to be modified for the upcoming walks in space and extravehicular operations. The astronaut needed to be protected from heat and micrometeoroids. The modified suit was called the G4C suit. From outside to inside, the additional protective layers were: HT-1 (high temperature-resistant) nylon protective layer; HT-1 ballistic nylon felt; seven aluminised Mylar thermal layers; and two HT-1 nylon micrometeoroid shock absorption layers. The rest of the suit was the same as the G3C suit. The helmet for the Gemini IV suit was equipped with a detachable extravehicular visor assembly consisting of two over-visors. The outer visor was made of Plexiglass and was coated with a thin gold film. It reduced visible light transmission to 12 per cent, absorbed the potentially eye-damaging ultraviolet light and reflected much of the solar heat energy.⁽¹⁶⁾ The second visor also aided heat and ultraviolet protection but was mainly for impact protection for the Plexiglass pressure visor of the suit itself.

Additional outer protective layers against solar heat and micrometeoroids were needed before the David Clark G4C suit could be made safe for extravehicular activity. (NASA)

The first spacesuit to be worn in the vacuum of space. The pressure-retaining component of the Berkut suit is shown here without the outer thermal protective layer. Note the multiple fabric break lines around the shoulders, hips and legs which were intended to give some degree of mobility to the suit. (Illustration by Tim Brown)

The G4C suit also needed a specially designed visor to cope with the intense sunlight and the especially dangerous ultraviolet light. (NASA)

The first walk in space

Although the US manned space programme was rapidly closing the Space Race gap with the Soviets, it was again pipped at the post. On 18 March 1965, the Russian cosmonaut Alexei Leonov became the first man to leave his spacecraft and ‘walk’ in space but he nearly died in the process. In order not to have to decompress the Voskhod 2 spacecraft cabin and expose his colleague to a vacuum as well, the spacecraft was equipped with a collapsible fabric airlock. This airlock was deployed before the space walk, producing a small compartment into which Leonov could transfer before entering space. He wore a backpack, which contained his oxygen supply in three two-litre bottles at a pressure of 300 atmospheres. He was attached to the spacecraft by a seven-metre safety tether which also contained a pipe for an emergency supply of oxygen and electrical cables for communication and the transmission of medical and technical data. After ten minutes outside the spacecraft he attempted to re-enter the airlock. At this point he faced the same classic problem with his suit that had affected so many others before him: in the vacuum of space the pressure inside his suit (300 Torr; 40.0 kilopascals; 5.8 pounds per square inch) had caused the suit to balloon and stiffen. Despite repeated attempts, Leonov found that he was unable to squeeze back into the temporary airlock. Facing a life or death situation he could do only one thing; fortunately there was a pressure reducing valve on the suit which Leonov could reach. He had to risk reducing the pressure of his suit by adjusting the relief valve. If he reduced the pressure too much his body tissues might ‘boil’ or he might lose consciousness from lack of oxygen. The suit pressure decreased to the lower preset level of 205 Torr (27.4 kilopascals; 4.0 pounds per square inch). Almost exhausted, he was just able to squeeze back into the airlock and save himself.⁽¹⁷, 19)

Cosmonaut Leonov during the dramatic first ‘walk’ by a human in space. He could see the spectacle of the Earth slowly rotating beneath him. A few minutes later he was fighting for his life.

Leonov was wearing a Berkut (Golden Eagle) spacesuit designed specifically for a walk in space. It was a development of the suits worn by the earlier Vostok cosmonauts. Increased flexibility was paramount, particularly in the arms. In an attempt to achieve this goal, the Soviet scientists had gone along the same track as the Americans with their Gemini suit. The Berkut suit was essentially a soft suit made of fabric. At the shoulders, hips and knees the suit fabric was tethered by multiple non-elastic circumferential bands, producing a series of fabric break lines in order to try to improve the mobility of the limbs when the suit was pressurised. As has been described, the suit ballooned with near fatal results. The pressure garment consisted of four layers.⁽¹²⁾ A rubber layer with a nylon-type fabric restraint layer constituted the main pressure bladder, but this was duplicated by another layer of rubber and restraint fabric outside as a backup. Motion pictures of Leonov during his space walk reveal that there were wrist joint bearings that allowed him to rotate his gloved hands easily between the palm facing up and palm facing down positions. As with the Vostok suit, a non-rotating metal helmet was fixed to the neck. The letters ‘CCCP’ were emblazoned boldly in red across the front of the white helmet. There was a hinged visor and sunshade which also acted as a light filter.

Over the pressure retaining garment Leonov wore a thermal suit that was designed to protect him against the heat of the sun. This garment also protected the underlying pressure bladder from tearing and possible rupture. During his efforts to re-enter the airlock, his suit overheated and became damp. As his suit ballooned, his fingers and feet retracted from the gloves and boots. The only cooling method was the constant bleeding of oxygen from the suit’s relief valve which also removed water vapour and carbon dioxide. Clearly, further significant advances in spacesuit design would be needed if a man was ever going to walk on the Moon, whether he be a Soviet or American citizen. However, despite its limitations, the Russians had achieved another space spectacular – the first extravehicular activity (EVA).

The first US walk in space

Three months later on the Gemini IV mission, Ed White performed the first US EVA on 3 June 1965. Although the G4C suit, which had been constructed for EVA, was a major advance in suit design, it nevertheless had its limitations. Heavy work in the suits was generating much greater heat loads than expected. The cooling capacity of the oxygen flow of 3.4 kilograms (8.2 pounds) per hour was not sufficient to prevent the astronauts from over-heating and fogging their suit visors.

Although the Clark suit was an improvement on previous suits, there was a major underlying problem that was revealed by the Gemini extravehicular activities. The link-net construction of the restraint layer provided a single neutral position when the suit was pressurised. The neutral position of a pressure suit is the shape that the suit assumes when pressurised. The Gemini suit was designed so that this position allowed the astronaut to control the spacecraft. So the neutral position of this suit was a sitting posture. The arms were positioned for optimum access to the Gemini attitude control handle. This control enabled the crew to maintain the attitude of the spacecraft in pitch, roll and yaw. However if the crewmember needed to move in the pressurised suit into different positions, as for example during EVA, he had to overcome the forces tending to return the suit to its neutral position. These forces were particularly large when the arms were raised above shoulder level. Significant forces were involved in just holding the hands together. Although a well-trained crewman could move about in the suit, considerable effort was required, which caused fatigue.⁽¹⁶⁾ The glove mobility was satisfactory for brief periods of pressurised operation, but during long-term pressurised activity using the gloves, the astronaut’s hands became very tired. As a result of the effort required due to the lack of hand holds, the visor of the Gemini IX-A crewmember, Eugene A. Cernan, fogged so badly that he never managed to use the Astronaut Manoeuvring Unit. This device was a rocket pack which was to be worn by the astronaut and was stored externally in the rear section of the spacecraft. Cernan wrote later that once his spacesuit was pressurised to 181 Torr (24.1 kilopascals; 3.5 pounds per square inch), ‘…the suit took on a life of its own and became so stiff that it didn’t want to bend at all.’ It had ‘…all the flexibility of a rusty suit of armor.’⁽¹⁸⁾ Exhausted, Cernan finally struggled back into the Gemini cabin with the help of his commander, Thomas Stafford, thus ending his 120-minute space walk.⁽¹⁶⁾

Astronaut Edward H. White II (United States Air Force Lieutenant Colonel), Gemini IV pilot. White lost his life on 27 January 1967, in the Apollo 1/Saturn 204 fire at Cape Kennedy, Florida. (NASA)

The most unusual suit developed for the Gemini programme was the G5C suit. The suit was for use inside the spacecraft and was designed to provide more comfort and freedom of movement during the prolonged Gemini VII mission when Frank Borman and Jim Lovell spent 14 days in orbit. The odd feature of the suit was the large soft fabric hood. Readers with a feeling of déjà vu may recall the enormous helmet worn by Raymond Massey in the classic pre-war movie Things to Come. The Gemini suit hood was a continuation of the torso incorporating a polycarbonate visor and a pressure-sealing zipper and was used in crew transfer on the launch pad, launch, re-entry and, in case of an emergency, decompression on orbit. The zipper permitted removal of the hood and the soft fabric allowed easy stowage behind the astronaut’s couch. The crewmembers felt more comfortable, perspired less and slept better when they removed the suits entirely. At post-flight debriefing they strongly recommended the removal of spacesuits during activities within the spacecraft on future long-duration manned space flight missions such as a flight to the Moon.⁽⁹⁾

Above and top: Ed White during the first US space walk. Coils of the 7.6 metre (25 feet) long gold-plated umbilical cord are seen floating in the foreground. The umbilical cord contained a tether, a hose for cold oxygen from the spacecraft environmental control system and electrical leads. A small ventilation control module is strapped to the chest area of the suit. It controlled White’s suit pressure and contained an emergency oxygen supply. Here he holds the manoeuvring unit propelled by cold gas in his left hand. A camera is mounted on top of this unit. Ironically, White survived this heroic feat in space, to die later in the tragic Apollo 1 fire during a ground-based test. (NASA)

1967, US 5 cent stamp, commemorating Ed White’s space walk (US POST OFFICE)

Ed White floats in the blackness of space in this 3-dimensional image simulating his famous space walk. View by holding a sheet of paper between your nose and a point midway between the images so that your left eye views only the left image and your right eye the right image. Move the images as close as you can to your eyes with the images remaining sharp. Make sure both images are equally well lit. After a while the images should fuse to give you the 3D view of the Gemini astronaut floating in space. This format can also be copied direct and used in a classical stereoscope. (Model assembled by the author. Photography by Michal Kluvanek)

The weird-looking hooded G5C suit used on the 14-day Gemini VII mission. It was for cabin use only. (NASA)

The odd looking super-sized helmet worn by Raymond Massey in his role as the aviator John Cabal in the classic science fiction movie Things to Come in 1936 pre-dates the Gemini astronauts by almost 30 years.

Chapter Eight

MOON SUITS –
CONCEPTS OF THE FIFTIES

The H.E. Ross moon suit

IN 1940, as a distraction from the German Blitz on London, Harry E. Ross, a member of the British Interplanetary Society, calculated and sketched a design for a lunar spacesuit.⁽¹⁾ It probably represented the first serious study for a moon suit. In Ross’s design, the astronaut’s personal clothes consisted of silk underwear to be worn beneath woollen trousers and a roll-neck jersey. A woollen head covering contained earphones and a throat microphone. The suit itself was to be of four layers, which from the inside outwards were: (a) a soft comfort lining of non-water absorbing material; (b) main airtight rubber bladder with fabric backing as restrainer (about 1 to 2 millimetres thick); (c) cellular heat-resistant material (about 1 centimetre thick) such as kapok, wool or felt; and (d) an exterior skin of smooth, closely woven cloth metallized to reflect the heat of the sun.⁽²⁾ The feet and hands were enclosed within the airtight layer but mittens and boots were worn over the top of the suit. The helmet was to be of a light but rigid double shell structure with a vacuum between the layers – the inner shell of bright alloy metal and the outer of a plastic material with a burnished metal coating. This ‘thermos flask’ type of helmet would give extremely good heat insulation. The helmet would be rigidly attached to the suit. The vision port would be made of special glass that blocked heat and ultraviolet rays. There would also be a visor of darkened glass.

The Ross moon suit, possibly the first serious study for a lunar spacesuit. Key: 1. anti-glare peak with space for retracting visor, 2. woollen Balaklava head-dress, 3. double-walled vacuum interspace helmet, 4. communication aerial, 5. headphones, 6. air pipeline (suit inlet), 7. shoulder pads to avoid chaffing by helmet, 8. backpack containing air and temperature conditioning unit and radio, 9. roomy armhole to permit withdrawal of arm, 10. refrigerator for temperature control, 11. radio control panel, 12. air pipeline (suit outlet), 13. woollen garments, 14. patch pocket, 15. four-ply airtight sheath, 16. articulated and spiked metal under-sole, 17. thermal insulating sole, 18. pull-on boots, 19.. ‘silvered’ outer surface, 20. black outer surface (knees to shoulder level), 21. gloves integrated into suit: mitts are carried separately for heavy handling work, 22. ‘silvered’ cape (used to regulate temperature at night), 23. one of several stand-off studs, 24. collapsible airlock compartment, 25. electric light, 26. gasket and fixing ring for helmet, 27. laryngophone microphone, 28. 180 degree vision port. (Art by R.A. Smith 1945)

Details of the Ross spacesuit backpack. For the key to this diagram see the oxygen and temperature flow diagram.

Ross spacesuit backpack oxygen and temperature regulation flow diagram.

Ross recognised that for maximum comfort the suit would need to be a good fit with the shoulders padded and a harness to keep the helmet properly seated. Ross understood that to obtain maximum mobility, the suit pressure would need to be as low as possible, but he failed to tackle the problem of joint construction and continued with the old diving suit concept, which had already been shown repeatedly to be close to useless. A militating factor in this regard was, of course, that he was unaware of the progress being made on this subject under the cloak of secrecy which existed in the war years.

The life support system that he designed was in the form of a backpack attached to the spacesuit by a harness. The pack was to contain the oxygen supply, air-conditioning and radio equipment. A liquid oxygen supply would be the reservoir for the suit’s atmosphere, which would be maintained at about 21 per cent of one atmosphere pressure (160 Torr; 21.3 kilopascals; 3.1 pounds per square inch). This oxygen pressure is the same as that in the air at sea level. The carbon dioxide in the expired air would be removed by passing the exhaust gas over sodium peroxide. The sodium peroxide would also absorb water vapour produced in the lungs and from the skin. The suit atmosphere would be cooled by passing it through a system of pipes immersed in a low boiling point liquid like water or ammonia. Vaporisation would be produced in this coolant liquid by lowering the pressure over it, which in turn would lower its temperature. The suit, when the life support was charged for a 12-hour life, would weigh approximately 68 kilograms (150 pounds), which in lunar gravity would be only around 11.4 kilograms (25 pounds). As we shall see in chapter 9, the Ross suit was a remarkably accurate prediction of the Apollo lunar suit.

Destination Moon

As a result of the major advance towards space flight represented by the development of the sleek but deadly German V-2 rocket during the Second World War, the idea of a man walking on the Moon did not seem so remote after all. This opportunity was taken full advantage of by enthusiastic promoters of space travel, including Dr. Wernher von Braun, Willy Ley, Arthur C. Clarke and Kenneth Gatland to mention just a few of the leading spokesmen. Hollywood, the world’s film-making Mecca, could see that the general public was becoming increasingly interested in the possibility that the dream of space travel might yet come true. The first serious attempt to depict a manned expedition to the Moon in film was entitled Destination Moon. The screenplay was co-written by the famous science fiction author, Robert Heinlein, and the film was produced by George Pal in 1950. The plot was based on the idea that an atomically-powered single-stage rocket could travel to the Moon and back. The prop spacesuits worn by the actors reflected fairly accurately current scientific knowledge and incorporated the worm suit concept for flexible joints.⁽³⁾ This similitude is not surprising as Heinlein, besides being co-writer was also the technical advisor on the film; and the exceptional technical artist, Chesley Bonestell, worked as a set designer and special effects artist.

Dramatic illustration of the Hollywood film set during the production of the seminal science fiction film, Destination Moon, released in 1950. Man has just stepped onto the Moon for the first time. The suits are colour-coded so that the lunarnauts can identify each other from a distance. Note the jagged mountains and cracked lunar surface. This was how the lunar surface was visualised by most artists until the 1960s when unmanned spacecraft began taking close-up images of the Moon. (Illustration by Ed Lafferty)

An assistant adjusts the moon suit on the set of Destination Moon. Key features of the suit are labelled. The complete life support system seems to consist of two oxygen bottles. The primitive joints at the knees and elbows are clearly a simplified interpretation of the Goodrich ‘tomato worm’ suit joints by the art department.

Rolf Klep’s brilliantly detailed, almost photographic depiction of two astronauts engaged in seismographic experiments on the lunar surface using small rockets. Unfortunately, the suits depicted would have been virtually useless for working on the Moon. From the classic book Man on the Moon by Wernher von Braun, the noted astronomer Fred L. Whipple and Willy Ley, published in 1953.

Man on the Moon

In chapter 5 we examined the important role that the Collier’s series of space flight articles played in the popularisation of space flight. One of these articles described an epic scenario for the first human expedition to the Moon. The lunar suits depicted by the artists are based on the worm suits developed during World War Two by Russ Colley and his colleagues, again reflecting the enormous influence that this design had on popular culture of the time. There are some similarities with the Ross moon suit concept such as the life support backpack with radio and the fixed helmet.⁽⁴⁾

The Litton Mark 1 pressure suit

In 1954 Dr Siegfried ‘Siggy’ Hansen headed a research team at a small company called Litton Industries in Beverly Hills, California. Hansen had the brilliant idea that to improve the vacuum tube, the ancestor of the transistor, it should be modified and improved from the inside. The vacuum tube operated by modifying the flow of an electric current through a vacuum inside a sealed glass tube. Hansen suggested that a research scientist could work in a vacuum chamber directly on the operating interior of a vacuum tube. The Litton Company developed and built a vacuum chamber that could evacuate the air down to a pressure equivalent to an altitude of 240 kilometres (150 miles) or a minimum pressure of the order of 10⁻⁶Torr.(5, ⁶⁾ Hansen surveyed the existing pressure suits but found that they were too clumsy and immobile to fulfil his purpose. What he came up with in 1955 was a unique hybrid of hard and soft materials, which provided the right combination of strength and flexibility. The suit, named the Mark I, weighed 22.7 kilograms (50 pounds).⁽⁷⁾ It had a rigid aluminium torso, rubberised appendages and the helmet was square and ungainly looking. Unlike previous suits it maintained constant volume when the wearer bent the arms or legs. The gloves used simple multiple small bellows joints tethered laterally by longitudinal nylon tapes.⁽⁸⁾ The fingers were flexible enough so that the wearer could handle a screwdriver or a power drill.

Litton suit around 1955. The brainchild of Dr. Sig Hansen, it had a revolutionary outer metal skeleton on the arms, composed of a series of universal joints which prevented the elongation of the underlying tucked fabric joints of the suit’s pressure bladder. The bellows joints at the hips and knees ballooned and provided only limited mobility. (USAF)

The Litton pressure suit in a decompression chamber at an altitude equivalent to 150 kilometres (95 miles). This experiment was under the direction of the Air Force’s Air Research and Development Command. The Command realised that it had a prototype moon suit on its hands but, fearful of ridicule, both public and political, it was officially called the ‘manipulator system’. The cloudiness in the chamber is due to condensation of the water vapour in the air as it expands and cools during decompression. (USAF)

The Litton rolling joint

The arms could be bent to 90 degrees with relative ease in the vacuum of the chamber as a result of a revolutionary joint called the Litton rolling joint. Litton’s staff took a cylinder of straight fabric and bladder material and bonded these two piles together into a single wall laminate tube. Every few inches along the length of the tube they foreshortened it by tucking it inwards to form a deep circumferential fold, giving the tube a collapsible telescope-like appearance. This so-called tucked joint has already been discussed in chapter 6. Into the folds were inserted and bonded circular aluminium bands. The bands were attached to an outer metal framework which was composed of a series of universal joints, such as can be seen in the drive shafts of automobiles and trucks. This metal framework prevented the inner pressure bladder from elongating when the suit was pressurised. This type of joint was called a rolling joint because the folds of suit fabric rolled over the metal bands on the inside of the bend and spread out from the bands on the outside of the bend.

The ‘pants’ of the suit were cannibalised from an old AX-6 US Navy/Arrowhead Rubber Company high altitude pressure suit.⁽⁸⁾ This firm, founded in 1937, is now called Arrowhead Products Corporation and still manufactures bellows, albeit of the metallic variety. The crude rubber bellows joints at the hips and knees of these ‘pants’ tended to balloon under pressure and consequently provided only a limited degree of mobility for the wearer’s legs.

The decompression chamber was 3.7 metres (12 feet) long and 2.4 metres (eight feet) in diameter. Hansen was the first person to wear the suit inside the chamber. The risks were considerable. The suit was equipped with leads for oxygen pressurisation, water, humidity and temperature control.⁽⁵⁾ Doctors monitored Hansen’s respiration, heartbeat, and blood pressure through special attachments. The Air Force quickly saw the potential that this suit had for another purpose, namely space flight. In the late 1950s it funded experiments at Litton Industries. These experiments were under the direction of the Air Force’s Air Research and Development Command.⁽⁹⁾ Fearing ridicule by the general public and the disapproval of the Eisenhower administration, the Air Force forbade anyone in the project from using the word ‘spacesuit’. Rather, the suit had to be referred to as a ‘manipulator system’. However after the launching of Sputnik I, which heralded the beginning of the Space Age and the more general acceptance of space flight, the suit was renamed the ‘Mark I Extravehicular and Lunar Surface Suit’. Consequently, Hansen has been referred to as the originator of the extravehicular activity suit. Essentially, his exceptional work had evolved a suit which could have sustained humans as they worked outside spacecraft and on the surface of the Moon.

The great success of the Mark I suit led to the subsequent development of the more refined and satisfactory RX-Series ‘Moon Suits’ for NASA (see chapter 10).

On 9 June 1958, Captain Iven C. Kincheloe Jr., a USAF test pilot, tested the Mark I in a simulated flight to an altitude of 160 kilometres (100 miles) and found it completely satisfactory.⁽¹⁰⁾ Kincheloe was a Korean War fighter ace and was well respected in the flight-test world. He had flown in the X-plane programmes at Edwards Air Force Base in California and was listed to become a pilot in the up-coming X-15 rocket plane project. Regrettably, soon after he tested the Litton Mark 1 suit, he was killed in an ejection attempt from an F-104 Starfighter.⁽⁸⁾

The first International Latex pressure suit

The failure of the heavy B.F. Goodrich suit to meet the needs of the Air Force resulted in the Aero Medical Laboratory inviting 30 companies to bid on new designs and several contracts were awarded.⁽¹¹⁾ The two eventual products of these efforts were manufactured by the International Latex Corporation Dover and the David Clark Company. In 1952 the Metals Division of the International Latex Corporation was awarded a contract to supply the Navy and Air Force with high-altitude pressure helmets. Then, in 1956, this contract expanded to include high-altitude pressure suits. The fact that the Special Products Division was involved in rubber compounding and dipping methods helped resolve the problems of flexible joints in these suits, in particular the incorporation of rubber bellows joints at the shoulders, waist, elbows and knees.⁽¹²⁾

The story of the bellows joint

The story of the bellows joint extends back into the mists of pre-history. Simple pot bellows were used by the ancient Egyptians by 1450 BC.⁽¹³⁾ The hand bellows appears in the Middle Ages and was used by ironworkers and blacksmiths to blow air into their forges. Two flat, pear-shaped boards were hinged at one end and connected around their edges by a pleated sheet of leather. Stiffeners, such as wires, supported the pleats in the leather and were an essential part of the design for, without them, as the boards were separated rapidly, the air pressure in the bellows could drop to the point that the leather sheet would be drawn inwards rather than air through the flap valve in one of the boards. The reverse would have occurred when the boards were brought together quickly. The flap valve would close, but the air could not escape quickly enough through the nozzle and so the leather sheet would balloon. The stiffeners prevented this useless flapping of the leather sheet and so considerably increased the efficiency of the bellows.

The International Latex Corporation suit designated XMC-2-ILC with its rubber bellows joints at the shoulders, elbows and lower limbs was a major step forward. A sample section of the bellows joint design lies on a table in the background. This prototype suit lacks gloves and the arms terminate in blind endings. (ILC Dover, LP)

The simple hand bellows evolved for the use of ironmongers and blacksmiths to produce a draught of air to raise the temperature of their forges to the required heat. This device demonstrates the importance of stiffening the fabric pleats of the bellows joint.

Similarly the bellows joints of the International Latex pressure suit were pleated circumferential indentations in a rubber tube. Pressurising such a tube would lead to swelling of the tube and straightening out of the pleats, resulting in a distended unstable sausage. Clearly there is more to these joints than initially meets the eyes. Something has to hold the suit pleats in a stable manner in order to prevent them from ballooning like ‘an over-pressurised accordion’.⁽¹⁴⁾

A concertina displays its six-sided bellows and the basic principle employed in the bellows joints of spacesuits to come – the decrease in the concertina’s internal volume on the inside of the bend is approximately equal to the increase in volume on the outside of the bend. The transport-tether seen on the inside of the bend is released when playing the instrument.

A Meccano analogue of a single segment of a pressure suit bellows joint. The two outer strips (silver) representing the larger hoops sandwich a single shorter strip (green) representing a smaller hoop. The four short strips represent the pleats of the bellows fabric joining adjacent hoops. The left model shows the joint in the straight position. The right model shows the joint in the bent position. Notice how the green strip moves upwards towards the outside of the bend just as the smaller hoops do in a real bellows joint. The joint can be bent and unbent freely. (Model and photography by the author)

Key to the bellows joint

The key to an efficient pressure suit bellows joint – as we have already seen with the medieval hand bellows – is a series of rigid restraining rings, which permit the joint fabric to move through the maximum range of joint movement. A rubberised fabric sleeve, which acts as the pressure barrier, is held captive between a series of alternating larger and smaller metal hoops. The hoops contain the shape of the fabric so that the bellow’s pleats are formed and maintained between adjacent hoops. When pressurised the joint should elongate but this force along the long axis of the joint is absorbed by a flexible steel cable joining the larger hoops laterally along both sides of the joint. The first and last hoops are welded to the rigid portions of the suit structure. When the joint is bent the fabric pleats compress together on the inside of the curve and expand on the outside of the curve. The smaller diameter hoops are free to move and do so towards the outside of the bend. As a result of the symmetry imposed by the structure of the joint the increased volume produced on the outside of the bend is exactly balanced by decreased volume on the inside of the bend. So there is no change in the internal pressure of the suit. An iso-volumetric joint has been produced. The only force required of the astronaut to bend the joint is due simply to the internal friction of the bellow’s fabric and the tethering cables.⁽¹⁵⁾

Sometimes the term ‘convolute joint’ is used instead of ‘bellows joint’.⁽⁸⁾ The bellows joint concept was speedily incorporated into science fiction films of the time – as we shall now discover.

The suits in George Pal’s movie the Conquest of Space from 1955 put bellows joints in the arms and legs to extensive use. In the film we see a dreadful, albeit remote, possibility that all astronauts face. This spaceman was repairing a leaking propellant tank on the long trip to Mars when he was struck by a micrometeoroid. His suit’s pressure bladder has been holed and his life-giving atmosphere is leaking out fast. (Paramount/BFI)

Conquest of Space

We have already discussed the seminal science fiction film Destination Moon. In 1955 George Pal produced another science fiction film entitled Conquest of Space in which a crew of intrepid astronauts travel to Mars. Although the credits state that the film is based on the classic book by Willy Ley and Chesley Bonestell, also called The Conquest of Space (1949), the visual conceptualisation for this film took its cue from the classic Collier’s magazine space series. Several dramatic scenes focus on the manned wheel-shaped space station, which rotates to produce artificial gravity. The spacesuits worn by the astronauts during EVAs are of particular interest inasmuch as they show fully flexible arms and knees. These flexible sections of the suits are made up of continuous bellows joints clearly based on the Arrowhead Rubber Company AX-6 suit.

From Wernher von Braun’s book of the late 1950s, First Men to the Moon, a much scaled-down version of the first manned moon landing compared with his grandiose articles five years earlier. This concept of the lunar suit shows an impossible degree of flexibility of the knee joints even using current tucked fabric designs. Von Braun referred to these joints rather vaguely as ‘diaphragm joints’. Also note the lack of micrometeoroid and thermal protection over the pressure bladder. (Art by Fred Freeman)

Von Braun’s moon suit

Wernher von Braun was a prolific author of books and articles advocating, with remarkable insight, manned space travel throughout the immediate post-war years and the 1950s. He achieved this literary output despite his prodigious workload designing and building rockets for the US Army. Beginning in 1958 he wrote articles for This Week magazine in which he described a voyage by two astronauts to the Moon.⁽¹⁴⁾ This new moon mission was much scaled down compared with the grandiose concepts depicted in the earlier Collier’s articles. He suggested that on the Moon the two spacemen could wear a partial pressure suit, which used capstans to pull its fabric tightly against the skin,⁽¹⁶⁾ underneath their full pressure suit. Von Braun envisaged that the partial pressure suit would only come into operation if the rubber bladder of the full pressure suit sprang a leak. Not only does this double suit seem impractical, but also it would have been incredibly uncomfortable for the astronauts. On a more practical level, von Braun pointed out that miniaturisation had turned into reality devices which until recently had been science fiction. The vacuum tube had been replaced by ‘dime-sized’ transistors and so it had become possible to build, for example, radios and temperature regulators in toy-like sizes.

Weird and wonderful

The late 1950s was a time when aerospace firms saw dollar signs everywhere. Huge sums of money were being made available by the US government to private industry in its effort to compete with the Soviet Union in spectacular achievements in space. This impetus spawned moon suit designs that verged on the weird and wonderful. The so-called ‘capsule suits’ fall into this category.⁽¹⁷⁾ The lunar exploration suit produced by the Space General Corporation consisted of a large upper torso container with pressure suit arms and legs attached. Wrap-around windows were provided at the top of this barrel-like structure. Food supplies and cooking facilities were incorporated inside this capsule. The suit would be connected by an umbilical to a lightweight four-wheeled lunar exploration vehicle. This buggy would carry most of the oxygen and would also provide power for the suit. Supplies were expected to last for a two-week period of exploration. The astronaut could attach the capsule to the buggy by hinges and could tilt the suit on its back so that hopefully he could sleep in it. The whole idea had a certain air of impracticality. A similar device was designed by Republic Aviation and the Aeromedical Laboratory at Wright Air Force Base in Ohio. This suit was provided with mechanical legs so that the astronaut could pull his legs into the capsule for rest periods. But in reality, how could all these flights of fancy finally evolve into a suit that would actually allow an astronaut to walk on the Moon?

This quirky design for a Lunar Exploration Suit was by Space General Corporation. More than one company attempted this concept which quickly gained the nickname the ‘canned astronaut’ suit for obvious reasons. This suit was to be supplied for expeditions lasting up to two weeks. The Lunar Exploration Vehicle would support the astronaut in the Space General Corporation ‘canned’ suit with oxygen and mobility. This illustration identifies the major features of the Lunar Exploration Suit. (By kind permission Boy Scouts of America)

Gardening on the Moon? Not really. This 1960 Republic Aviation prototype ‘canned suit’ had three legs which could be extended, allowing the astronaut to withdraw his legs into the capsule for rest periods.

Another bizarre-looking ‘canned’ design was seriously proposed in 1962 by the US Air Force’s Wright Aerospace Medical Laboratories. The large antenna mounted on the top of the suit appears cumbersome, but it should be remembered that the gravitational force on the Moon’s surface is only one-sixth that on the Earth. (USAF)

Chapter Nine

ON THE
MOON
AT LAST

IT took more than one hundred years to garner the creative visions of science fiction artists and authors and the hard-won technical developments of engineers and scientists to finally make the moon suit a reality.

Before Apollo, astronauts in Earth orbit were either seated in their spacecraft couches or floating freely in space. A big difference in the Apollo Project was that once they had landed on the Moon, the astronauts had to be able to crawl through a small hatch of the Lunar Excursion Module (LEM), then climb down the ladder onto the lunar surface, walk about the lunar surface and bend sufficiently in order to pick up samples and position equipment. Clearly the suits for Mercury and Gemini would not be flexible enough for Apollo requirements. A quantum leap in suit technology was needed. Without it, the notion of humans walking on the Moon would simply remain an impossible dream. A satisfactory suit for Apollo had become a critical item upon which the success of the whole moon project depended. It was a goal that had eluded so many before over a quarter of a century. Could it be done now?

As discussed in chapter 8, in 1961 President Kennedy announced the objective to land a man on the Moon by the end of the decade. The following year, on 31 July, NASA awarded the Hamilton Standard Division of United Aircraft Corporation the prime contract for the Apollo spacesuit assembly. Hamilton’s principal sub-contractor was the International Latex Corporation, which would fabricate the pressure garment. Hamilton Standard would also develop a life support backpack to be worn by crewmen during lunar expeditions.⁽¹⁾

For testing purposes during the initial stage of the Apollo programme, the so-called ‘Block I’ phase, it was planned to use the Gemini spacesuit. The mobility problems of this suit revealed during the Gemini programme would not be relevant because no extravehicular activities were planned during the first manned Apollo flight. NASA’s Manned Spacecraft Centre and the David Clark Company amended their Gemini suit contracts to cover the design and fabrication of a prototype ‘Block I’ suit.⁽¹⁾ NASA decided to use the Gemini G3C as the basis for the new A1C suit. A completely new lunar suit would be used for the follow-up ‘Block II’ phase of the programme.⁽²⁾ However the tragic accident, in which the Apollo 1 spacecraft caught fire during a ground-test with the deaths of astronauts Grissom, White and Chaffee, resulted in the cancellation of the Block I’ programme.

Competitors for the ‘Block II’ lunar suit were International Latex Corporation (ILC), Hamilton Standard and David Clark. Hamilton Standard had contracted ILC to fabricate the joints for the ‘Block II’ suit. However, because of problems experienced by ILC employees with the fabrication of the joints for the new suit, Hamilton Standard dropped ILC, but NASA, facing lawsuits from ILC for breach of contract, allowed the company to enter its version of the Apollo spacesuit into the competition. After a one-week test trial in which spacesuits from Hamilton Standard, ILC and David Clark were compared, NASA chose the ILC suit and gave the company the prime contract to produce over 30 suits for the upcoming Apollo missions.⁽³⁾

FACT FILE

PROJECT APOLLO

Main objective: To land two men on the Moon and return all three crewmen safely to Earth.

Capsule design: Command/Service Module (CSM). Cone-shaped with three couches that could be angled in different positions depending on the tasks required. The astronauts could also lie flat in their sleeping hammocks, or stand and float freely about the cabin.

Lunar excursion module (LEM): An ugly but ingeniously engineered spacecraft. Interior was large enough to allow the two lunarnauts to stand while landing on and taking off from the Moon.

Launch vehicle: Saturn V three-stage, liquid-fuelled rocket. 3,402,000 kilograms (7,500,000 pounds) total thrust in first stage.

Number of lunar landings: Six.

Duration of lunar landing missions: Launch to recovery ranged from eight to twelve days.

Initially, the prototype lunar suit used a Gemini-type helmet, which rotated with the astronaut’s head movements but, in November 1964, the engineers decided to test an immobile bubble-type helmet.⁽¹⁾ Use of this ‘fishbowl’ helmet allowed an unrestricted view and also eliminated the need for a visor seal, which was required in the Mercury, Gemini and Apollo ‘Block I’ spacesuit helmets.⁽⁴⁾

On 5 November 1965 NASA announced that the International Latex Corporation would build the Apollo operational spacesuits and Hamilton Standard the portable life support system for the suit.⁽¹⁾ The basic design of this A7L suit was a one-piece, five-layer ‘torso-limb’ suit with bellows joints made of synthetic rubber at the shoulders, elbows, wrists, hips, knees and ankle joints.⁽⁴⁾ The shoulder bellows joint was stabilised by a metal cable that was attached on the front and back of the suit and ran through a metal guide tube attached to the upper arm. As the astronaut moved his shoulder the guide tube slid back and forth along the cable.⁽⁵⁾

An early prototype Apollo Block II suit. Note the use of a close-fitting Gemini-type helmet. The bellows joints are clearly visible at the shoulders, elbows, wrists, hips and knees. The webbing across the chest and back allows the astronaut to be supported in a standing posture in the Lunar Excursion Module. The engineer-pilot, seen right, is standing in a mock-up of the Lunar Excursion Module at the Grumman plant.

Early engineering test model of the Apollo liquid-cooling garment.

The Apollo suits had to protect the astronauts from an external pressure of less than 10⁻¹⁰Torr, external temperatures ranging from approximately –150 to +150 degrees Centigrade (–300 to +300 Fahrenheit), micrometeoroids travelling at a speed of 30 kilometres (18.6 miles) per second and intense solar electromagnetic radiation including infrared, ultraviolet and visible wavelengths.(6, ⁷⁾

The Apollo moon suit was a major achievement of engineers as well as seamstresses and incorporated more than 20 layers. These layers can be considered under two major headings, the inner torso limb suit assembly (TLSA) and the outer integrated thermal micrometeoroid garment (ITMG).

Torso limb suit assembly (TLSA)

The TLSA was made up of four layers. From the inside out these were:

1. Initially the astronaut put on a lightweight one-piece garment for biotelemetry, including electrocardiogram electrodes, followed by a urine collection assembly consisting of a sheath urinal and collection bag and faecal containment system.⁽⁸⁾ Then he donned a liquid-cooling garment which was a knitted nylon-spandex garment that looked like a pair of long johns. A network of 90 metres (300 feet) of spaghetti-like polyvinyl chloride tubing was sewn into the fabric.⁽⁶⁾ Cool water from the life support backpack was circulated through the tubing to transfer metabolic heat from the astronaut’s body to space.(7, ⁹⁾

2. A comfort layer of lightweight heat-resistant nylon called Nomex. This layer protected the skin from chaffing and provided ease in donning the suit.

3. A gastight bladder layer of neoprene-coated nylon with link- net meshing to contain the suit’s atmosphere, which was at a pressure of 181 Torr (24.1 kilopascals; 3.5 pounds per square inch).⁽⁶⁾

4. A nylon restraint layer to prevent ballooning of the gastight bladder. At the back of the torso section, a sealing slide fastener went from the shoulder assembly down the back to the crotch and up to the lower abdomen, which allowed entry to- and exit from the suit.⁽⁴⁾

Above and below: This Apollo suit model A-7L was worn by the astronauts on the Moon (from Apollo 11 to 14). The illustration shows the major components of the pressure garment assembly. A protective layer worn over the top of this pressure bladder is shown in the illustration. (NASA)

Integrated thermal micrometeoroid garment (ITMG)

The ITMG had three major components.

From the inside out they were:

1. An inner liner of four layers of aluminised Mylar alternating with Dacron spacers.

2. Two layers of aluminised Kapton film alternating with two layers of Beta Marquisette glass fibre cloth.
These two sections of the ITMG were designed to absorb micrometeoroid energy and to reflect heat.

3. Finally an outer layer of Teflon-coated Beta fabric. Positions of high risk of wear or tear were reinforced with ‘Chromel-R’ woven steel patches.(6, 10, ⁴⁾

Connections to suit torso

On the upper right chest was the electrical connector for the bioinstrumentation and communication systems. Opposite it, on the left, was the connector for water used in the cooling undergarment described earlier. Two sets of oxygen inlet and outlet connectors were located below these. The pair on the right of the suit was for use with the spacecraft life support system if the astronaut was exposed to an emergency cabin depressurisation. The other pair was for use with the portable life support system (PLSS) when the astronaut was on the lunar surface and this will be described later. Other fittings included a pressure gauge on the left forearm and a pressure relief valve on the right forearm. A connector for the urine transfer fitting was located on the right thigh. The torso of the suit also had a block and tackle between the neck and the lower waist to permit the astronaut to bend forwards when the suit was pressurised, a movement not possible otherwise.

Helmet

The Apollo helmet was formed from a high-strength polycarbonate plastic called Lexan. It was shaped like a bubble and was attached to the suit by a pressure sealing neck ring. The polycarbonate had been developed to protect street lamps from stones and airgun pellets.⁽⁶⁾ Unlike the Mercury and Gemini helmets, which were closely fitted to the astronaut’s head and moved with the head, the Apollo helmet was fixed to the suit torso. The helmet was sufficiently large to permit the astronaut to move his head freely within it as though he was in a fishbowl. On the lunar surface an outer visor called the lunar extravehicular visor assembly was placed over the bubble helmet to provide impact and micrometeoroid protection and also to shield the astronaut from ultraviolet, infrared and bright visible light, which could damage the astronaut’s eyes.

The so-called integrated thermal micrometeoroid garment showing its major components. It was worn as a protective layer over the top of the A-7L pressure garment assembly shown on the previous page. (NASA)

The Apollo pressure glove was a complex piece of engineering. Note the special articulation points that correspond to the finger joints at the base of the palm (the metacarpophalangeal joints). The bulbous projections on the backs of the fingers were intended to make possible some bending of the adjacent phalangeal joints. An outer thermal and micrometeoroid protective glove was worn over the top of this pressure glove. (NASA)

The astronaut wore a soft cap, called a ‘Snoopy hat’, incorporating duplicated communications devices. From Apollo 12 onwards a 1080-cubic centimetre drinking water bag was added which was attached to the inside neck rings of the suit. The astronaut could sip water from the 15.3 x 20.3 centimetres bag through a 0.32 centimetres tube within reach of his mouth. The bag was filled from the lunar excursion module potable water dispenser.⁽¹¹⁾ The helmet also contained a feed port and a vent pad. The former was on the left side of the helmet and provided an airtight attachment for the feed port and purge valve. The feed port would allow liquefied food or water to be ingested by the astronaut in an emergency. It depended on the feed port valve resealing after use. It appears never to have been used. The vent pad, which was made of elastomeric foam, was bonded to the back of the helmet and had a recess that acted as a ventilation manifold to direct oxygen flow over the front inside surface of the helmet preventing condensation of the astronaut’s breath.⁽¹²⁾

Gloves

The Apollo gloves presented a complex problem. If the astronaut was to perform useful work on the lunar surface he would need to use his hands and fingers with enough dexterity to operate the spacesuit controls mounted on the upper chest of the ITMG. He would also need to be able to manipulate the scientific experiments and lunar tools. The stringency of these requirements was reduced somewhat by the fact that the suit controls, experiments and tools were designed to be handled and operated with minimum dexterity.

The glove was made up of two components. From the skin outwards they were the bladder to contain the suit atmosphere, a restraint layer to prevent the bladder from ballooning under pressure and to manage the loads induced in the glove during its operational use.(13, ¹²⁾

The bladder was a layer of nylon tricot dipped in a Neoprene compound.⁽¹²⁾ The restraint layer was a fingerless glove exposing the inner thumb and fingertips and was cemented to the outer layer of the bladder. The bladder was shaped from moulds of the hands of the individual astronauts and made in the neutral, that is the partially flexed, position of the fingers so that the gloved hand would take up this position automatically when the suit was pressurised.⁽¹⁴⁾ A palm restraint system was fitted over this glove. The palm restraint was made of a metal bar placed along the palm creases in the hand, which afforded improved hand dexterity for operating controls. A buckle to tighten the palm restraint bar was on the back of the hand.(7, ¹⁾ A restraint strap over the base of the palm minimised ballooning of the glove and thereby aided grip control.⁽¹²⁾ Bubble-like distensions on the back of the glove fingers adjacent to the interphalangeal joints provided some easing of flexion of the fingers. A special articulation was provided at each metacarpophalangeal joint.⁽⁷⁾ The pressure glove was attached to the forearm of the suit by a pressure-sealing ring similar to the neck ring of the helmet.⁽¹⁴⁾ A bellows joint incorporated in the base of the glove allowed a degree of flexion and extension of the wrist.⁽⁶⁾

During extravehicular activities an outer gauntlet was worn over the pressure glove. Its function was to provide thermal, micrometeoroid and abrasion protection. For thermal and micrometeoroid protection, the glove employed similar layering to that of the ITMG. The outer protective layer was made of ‘Chromel-R’ woven steel⁽⁶⁾ which was coated with a silicon compound to improve grip.⁽¹²⁾ The glove thumb and fingertips were fitted with moulded silicone rubber caps. These fingertip caps were an attempt to provide some sense of feeling to the astronaut’s fingertips when he grasped an object.⁽⁷⁾ This extravehicular gauntlet extended well back over the junction between the pressure glove and the TLSA.⁽¹⁾

The astronauts reported that only one aspect of work in the pressure suit was very difficult and that was the effort of gripping tools against the pressure within the glove. It was like squeezing a tennis ball repetitively for nine hours, and was very fatiguing to the forearm muscles. They also found that their fingernails became separated from the nail beds as their nails scraped against the inside of the glove fingertips. The forearm fatigue disappeared after a night’s sleep, but the sore fingernails did not resolve until days after they had left the Moon.⁽¹⁵⁾ Glove technology was clearly an important area for future research.

Boots

The lunar boot was actually an overshoe that the Apollo lunar explorer slipped on over the integrated pressure boot of the spacesuit. A cross section of materials similar to the ITMG was used to protect against thermal stresses and micrometeoroids. The inner layer was made from Teflon-coated glass-fibre cloth and was followed by 13 layers of Kapton film alternating with 12 layers of Beta Marquisette glass-fibre cloth.⁽¹²⁾ The tongue area was made of Teflon-coated glass-fibre cloth. The outer layer of the lunar boots was made from ‘Chromel-R’ woven steel fabric which provided abrasion resistance and also protection from the high lunar surface temperatures. The ribbed sole of the boot was made of silicone rubber and was sewn to the outer metal fabric shell. It provided good wearing properties and thermal protection.⁽¹⁾

Portable Life Support System (PLSS)

The life support system had multiple roles. It had to provide suit pressurisation, an oxygen supply and remove the body heat, carbon dioxide, water vapour and body odours produced by the astronaut. In addition it provided radio communications to and from the LEM and an emergency supply of oxygen.

The system was worn as a backpack and was contained in a fibreglass shell contoured to fit the back. It measured 66 centimetres (26 inches) high, 46 centimetres (18 inches) wide and 28 centimetres (11 inches) deep. Total weight, including the backup oxygen supply, was about 82 kilograms (180 pounds), which was equivalent to 13.7 kilograms (30 pounds) in the reduced gravity on the lunar surface.⁽⁷⁾

The components of the critical portable life support system when viewed from behind. 1. emergency oxygen supply (oxygen purge system), 2. one of two emergency high-pressure oxygen bottles, 3. pressure reduction device to supply emergency oxygen to the suit, 4. sublimator (see text for explanation of this fascinating device) with radio below it, 5. electrical junction box, 6. water reservoir, 7. fan for suit ventilation, 8. connection for body cooling water, 9. primary oxygen bottle, 10. oxygen and water recharge fittings.

This diagram explains how the portable life support system (PLSS) (top right) was connected to the emergency oxygen system (oxygen purge system, OPS) (top left), the PLSS remote control unit (RCU), the astronaut’s suit and the devices in the lunar excursion module for recharging the PLSS with the water and oxygen (bottom right) between space walks. Note the four straps used to attach the life support backpack to the spacesuit.

To attach the life support pack to the spacesuit, four straps were mounted on the PLSS. These straps could be adjusted in length and latching clips were attached to their free ends. Two straps passed over the shoulders to carry most of the unit’s weight and these were tethered by their latches to rings on the upper chest of the suit. Two lower straps maintained lateral stability of the pack and were latched to rings just above each hip.⁽¹⁶⁾

Oxygen was supplied to the suit at a pressure of 181 to 211 Torr (24.1 to 28.1 kilopascals; 3.5 to 4.1 pounds per square inch) from a tank pressurised to 61 atmospheres (900 pounds per square inch). Oxygen flowed to the suit at a temperature of 7 to 10 degrees Centigrade (45 to 50 degrees Fahrenheit) and returned from the suit at 27 to 29 degrees Centigrade (80 to 85 degrees Fahrenheit) laden with impurities such as carbon dioxide, body odour and water vapour. It passed through a canister containing lithium hydroxide, which absorbed the carbon dioxide and deactivated charcoal, which absorbed the odours. An Orlon filter removed any foreign particles.⁽⁷⁾ The gas was then cooled to 4 to 7 degrees Centigrade (40 to 45 degrees Fahrenheit) in a device called the sublimator/heat exchanger. In the sublimator, water from a storage tank was forced between two metal plates, one of which was porous. The porous plate was exposed to the vacuum of space and as the water evaporated through the pores, the plate became colder until the water in it froze, blocking the microscopic holes.(16, ⁵⁾ The ice being exposed to the vacuum of space sublimated, that is, changed directly from ice into water vapour, and in so doing absorbed heat from the metal plates, cooling them markedly. The plate opposite the porous plate formed part of a heat exchanger, which cooled both the warm oxygen returning from the suit and the warm water from the liquid-cooling garment.

Partially ‘exploded’ view of the front of the portable life support system, the side resting on the astronaut’s back. The water reservoir (1) is on the far left of the schematic; next to it is the main life support unit without the emergency oxygen supply on the top. At the top of this unit is the remarkable device called the sublimator/heat exchanger (2) and immediately below the sublimator is the holder for the cylindrical lithium hydroxide canister (3) which plays a vital role in absorbing carbon dioxide. This canister also contains charcoal for the absorption of odours. At the right lower corner of the unit is just seen the primary oxygen bottle (4). To the right of the life support unit are connecting hoses for the body-cooling water (5), oxygen outlet (D-A) and inlet (C-B) and the electrical cable (E-F).

The cooling of the oxygen returning from the suit also condensed the water vapour produced by the astronaut into droplets and the heavier of these droplets impacted onto a wick in a water separator.⁽¹²⁾ The cool and conditioned oxygen was topped up with additional oxygen as required and returned to the spacesuit. The average astronaut produced 1,600 British Thermal Units of metabolic heat per hour with peak rates of 2,000. The water transport subsystem, which passed cooling water through the liquid-cooling garment, operated at 1.4 atmospheres (1,064 Torr; 141.8 kilopascals; 20.5 pounds per square inch). The backpack’s electrical subsystems, which included the pumps for gas and water circulation, operated using two 16.8 volt batteries.

The emergency oxygen system, called the oxygen purge system, was mounted on the top of the backpack and contained two small spherical tanks holding oxygen at a pressure of 400 atmospheres (40.5 x 10³ kilopascals; 5,880 pounds per square inch).⁽⁹⁾ It could supply oxygen for astronaut breathing and suit pressurisation for 30 minutes at high flow rates, for example if the suit was holed, but could be eked out to 75 minutes at lower flow rates.⁽⁷⁾ A radio antenna was mounted on the top of this oxygen purge system.⁽¹⁷⁾

Initially on the Apollo 11 to 14 missions, the PLSS could support an astronaut working on the lunar surface for four hours. The astronaut could then return to the LEM and replenish the batteries, oxygen supply, water supply and lithium canister as required. Later models could support an astronaut for up to eight hours on the surface.⁽⁷⁾ A control box mounted on the upper centre chest wall of the ITMG provided data and some control of the portable life support system. Most importantly it allowed the astronaut to activate the emergency oxygen supply via the oxygen purge system umbilical.(9, ¹⁷⁾ Fortunately this emergency system never had to be used, which was testimony to the amazing resilience and reliability of these remarkable spacesuits.

Despite the remarkable progress made in the degree of mobility provided for the Apollo astronauts by the A7L lunar suit, it still had limitations on the ability of the astronaut to bend forward. (NASA)

Despite the various bellows joints, there were constraints placed on the degree of astronaut mobility. Special tools, such as a scoop and tongs, were designed to allow the astronauts to pick up rock and soil samples from the lunar surface. Modifications to the early suit design were required to provide the astronauts sufficient flexibility to be able to sit in the lunar rover vehicle during the Apollo 15 to 17 missions. This suit was given the designation A7LB by NASA. The suit was altered to include special joints at the neck and waist to allow bending movements in those areas. These changes also conserved energy, reduced fatigue and allowed work for longer periods on the lunar surface. The zipper was relocated to the left front side of the suit, going round the back and terminating on the right shoulder.(1, ⁴⁾

Special tools such as the scoop seen here were designed to allow the Apollo astronauts to pick up samples from the surface despite the suit’s limitation of reach. (NASA)

On the point of falling. David Scott on the Apollo 15 mission improves his reach for an electric drill by bending his right knee, but in so doing brings himself close to toppling to his right. (NASA)

The Soviet moon suit

The Soviet decision to commit to a manned moon mission lagged behind that of the United States. For the Russians, it was clearly going to be a very expensive project. In early 1962 the Soviet government committed to the building of the huge N1 rocket which it was hoped would make a Russian manned lunar landing possible. In essence, the Soviet programme was similar to NASA’s. The spacecraft was divided into modules – living quarters, Earth re-entry capsule and propulsion module. This combination later developed into the very successful Soyuz spacecraft. Attached to this array was the lunar lander and a rocket stage which would decelerate the lander from lunar orbit, then separate immediately from the lander. In the Soviet plan only one cosmonaut would descend to the Moon’s surface.

Scientists at the Soviet Zvezda research and development company had naturally been concerned by the major problems faced by Leonov during the first manned space walk. They felt that if the torso of the lunar suit was made of aluminium, this would reduce the suit-ballooning problem as well as provide a rigid structure to which the life support system could be attached. The helmet was an integral part of the torso structure and therefore non-rotatable. Holes in the torso frame allowed for the attachment of the arm and leg assemblies. Rotating metal bearings securely fixed to the metal torso were incorporated into the shoulder joints allowing 360 degrees of rotation (so-called scye bearings). This combination of solid and soft suit components is called a hybrid spacesuit and these will be discussed further in chapter 10. The soft fabric limbs were constructed in essentially the same way as those used in Leonov’s Berkut suit. The lunar suit was called the Krechet (Tamed Falcon).⁽⁵⁾

A brilliant advance in this suit was the incorporation of a sealable door at the back of the suit to which the life support system was mounted. The main reason this method of donning the spacesuit was chosen, was that the cosmonaut would be alone in the lunar lander. He would have no assistance with his suit. To close the suit door he would pull on a single cable with one hand and latch the door with the other.⁽⁵⁾ This inner suit was protected by a TMG garment similar to that described for the Apollo suit earlier in this chapter. The cosmonaut could monitor the performance of the suit on a flip-out chest-mounted display.

The Soviet lunar suit, Krechet. The novel concept of having the entry hatch and life support system combined is shown clearly. We see only the outer thermal-micrometeoroid garment. The all-important pressure bladder is not revealed. The flip-out suit monitor screen is in the open position on the chest.

The spacesuit as art

As Project Apollo matured and reached its goal, science fiction creators were under pressure to keep ahead of reality. Spacesuit artists could follow two paths – either to emulate with minor modifications contemporary spacesuits or to diverge dramatically from the norm. In the case of 2001- A Space Odyssey (1968), Arthur Clarke and Stanley Kubrick took the former path. Conversely, a decade later in Alien, Ridley Scott gave his artists free reign. The French artist, Jean ‘Moebius’ Giraud, only worked on the film for a few days but produced an exotic spacesuit design which set the essential ‘feel’ of the final design used in the movie.⁽¹⁸⁾

The spacesuit as art. Jean ‘Moebius’ Giraud’s illustration that formed the basis for the design for the spacesuits in Alien, first screened in 1979. Fantastically detailed, the suit defies reality.

Chapter Ten

SPACE STATIONS,
MARS AND BEYOND

MAN had walked on the Moon. What next for the spacesuit in the immediate and more distant future? Once the United States had beaten the Soviet Union in this race, the political impetus behind Project Apollo began to wane. NASA’s prodigious funding could not continue at the levels it reached in the 1960s. The last three planned Apollo missions were cancelled. Extended lunar exploration would require a detailed investigation of the time that human beings could stay safely in the space environment and most of this knowledge could be obtained in Earth orbit. Plans were already underway in the Soviet Union and the USA for the development of Earth orbital workshops or space laboratories.

FACT FILE

SKYLAB

Main objective: Provide the US with a semi-permanent large orbital habitat for the study of the effects of microgravity on the human body and other scientific experiments.

Design: Based on the Saturn V 3rd stage. It provided a spacious two-storeyed accommodation of 3600 cubic metres (11,700 cubic feet) for three astronauts per mission.

Launcher: Last Saturn V rocket to be launched.

Number of missions: Three.

Duration of missions: Ranged from 28 to 84 days.

The successful Skylab project was rescued from the teeth of failure when the two Skylab 2 astronauts performed a complex space walk during which they managed to release a snagged panel. The space station had faced disaster due to overheating and loss of electrical power when one of two solar panels sheared off during launch and the remaining panel failed to deploy after entering orbit. (NASA)

The space walk to repair Skylab represented the first major repair task undertaken in space. Astronaut, Jack R. Lousma, shown here, and Owen K. Garriott spread a second sunshade over the workshop during the Skylab 3 mission. (NASA)

Line drawing of the Skylab spacesuit. No separate life support pack was used with this suit. Breathing air, water cooling and electrical connections were all provided by an umbilical cord connected with the orbital workshop. (NASA)

The Skylab spacesuit

In the case of the USA such an orbital laboratory could utilise leftover hardware from Apollo. America’s first space station was called Skylab and it was lifted into orbit by the huge Saturn V launch vehicle on 14 May 1973.

For the three manned Skylab missions, all three astronauts wore a slightly modified Apollo A7LB suit for launch, docking, undocking and extravehicular activities. The suit had a simplified and less expensive integrated thermal and micrometeoroid garment and a simpler and less expensive extravehicular visor assembly.⁽¹⁾ With the exception of the Orbital Workshop repairs carried out by Skylab 2 and Skylab 3, all of the Skylab EVAs were conducted in connection with the routine maintenance carried out on the Apollo Telescope Mount, which housed the station’s solar telescopes. Because of the short duration of those EVAs, the Apollo portable life support system was replaced with a Gemini-style umbilical assembly that connected the astronaut to the Skylab space station. The umbilical cable was modified to transfer breathing air, water for the astronaut’s cooling garment and electrical cables. Skylab’s atmosphere was 80% oxygen and 20% nitrogen at 260 Torr (34.7 kilopascals; 5.0 pounds per square inch), approximately the reverse composition of the gas mixture that we breathe on Earth. The umbilical assembly device, worn on the astronaut’s waist, served as a control interface between the umbilical cable and the suit. An emergency oxygen pack was strapped to the astronaut’s right thigh and was able to supply 30 minutes of pure oxygen in case of umbilical failure.⁽¹⁾

Salyut and Mir Space Station spacesuits

Once the Soviets lost the race for the Moon they focused on the goal of long-duration manned missions at a permanent residence in orbit. This objective led to the Salyut and then the Mir space stations which, despite their relative simplicity of construction, were remarkably successful undertakings. The US, on the other hand, focused on delivering and servicing Earth satellites, the most famous of which was the brilliantly successful Hubble Space Telescope.

FACT FILE

SALYUT SPACE STATIONS

Main objective: Soviet project to develop the technology for a permanent space station, rotation of crews using the Soyuz spacecraft and delivering supplies by unmanned Progress rockets.

Design: Step-shaped cylinder of 11.6 metres (38.0 feet) total length.

Launcher: Proton rocket, liquid propellants; total thrust of first stage 860,000 kilograms (1.9 million pounds). For launch of unmanned Salyut space stations.
Further modification of the R-7 rocket; total thrust at launch 400,000 kilograms (900,000 pounds) for launching Soyuz spacecraft with crews.

Number of missions: Seven Salyut stations launched. Six manned.

Duration of missions: up to 236 days. First handover from one crew to another occurred in the final Salyut 7.

The Soviet suit designed for use on the Salyut space station was the Orlan-D. This suit was a modified version of the Orlan-IVA suit that had been developed for the commander of the lunar missions. This latter suit was to be used by the commander if the lunar cosmonaut ran into difficulties during his transfer to or from the lander in lunar orbit. The Orlan-D’s life support system was scaled down; it could only support a cosmonaut for five hours compared to ten hours for the Krechet lunar suit.⁽²⁾ The Salyut programme lasted from 1971 to 1986, during which period a series of Salyut space stations was placed into orbit and crews were transferred to them by Soyuz spacecraft.

The more complex and larger Soviet space station Mir began its life in 1986 when the core module was launched. Over subsequent years until 2000, modules were progressively added to the station. It was manned for ten years of continuous occupation and much was learned about the effects of long-term space flight on the human body and psyche. The unmanned Mir re-entered the Earth’s atmosphere over the Pacific and burnt up in 2001.⁽³⁾

Line drawing of the Soviet Orlan-D extravehicular suit which was based on the suits constructed for the planned Soviet lunar landing programme. Although the elbow, hip and knee joints are labelled ‘convolute’ fabric joints, they were, in fact, segmented soft joints and not true bellows joints. (NASA)

A cosmonaut emergency pressure suit worn by the Adelaide-born NASA astronaut Dr. Andrew ‘Andy’ Thomas on his journey to and from the Russian Mir space station in 1998. Note the soft helmet and the simple fabric shoulder and elbow joints with their circumferential blue fabric break lines to provide limited mobility if the suit had to be pressurised due to loss of the Soyuz spacecraft’s atmosphere. (By kind permission of the South Australian Museum. Photography by the author)

The Mir extravehicular activity suit, named Orlan-DMA was a further development of the Orlan-D suit. It retained the hybrid concept of an aluminium torso and helmet and fabric limbs. The elbow joints were modified so that the function of the joint was more iso-volumetric. It had features of the soft segmented joint – that is, the joint was divided up by circumferential inelastic nylon tapes sewn around the conical pressure garment – but it was designed so that it reacted to bending in a more iso-volumetric manner like a classical bellows joint. Elongation of the joint was prevented by medial and lateral cables running through staggered cable guides.⁽²⁾

Space Shuttle and the International Space Station spacesuits

The one-off launch vehicles like the Saturn V were not reusable, although there was some thought to try to make them so, and consequently they represented an enormous cost penalty with every launch. The idea of a reusable spacecraft was not a new one. In 1948 the British Interplanetary Society had proposed a small spaceplane that would be launched by a booster rocket. The spaceplane would fly back to Earth after leaving orbit and the booster rocket could be recovered by parachutes.⁽⁴⁾

The current model MK Orlan spacesuit used on the International Space Station. Only the coverall is seen in this display model. (NASA)

FACT FILE

SPACE SHUTTLE

Main objective: To provide a re-usable spaceplane capable of carrying a crew of three and up to four passengers into orbit. A capacious payload bay carried large satellites and components of the International Space Station into orbit.

Design: A spaceplane with three liquid propellant engines. It rode piggy-back on its external fuel tank. Two large solid rocket boosters were attached to this tank.
Total thrust at launch was 3,538,000 kilograms (7,800,000 pounds), just greater than the Saturn V rocket.

Number of orbital missions: 135.

Duration of orbital missions: Ranged from two to 17 days.

In the late 1960s a variety of plans for a reusable spaceplane were investigated. Some of these concepts visualised a spaceplane mounted on a larger rocket plane booster stage thereby making the whole system recoverable. Unfortunately these projects would have been extremely expensive to develop and NASA simply did not have sufficient funding to proceed with any of them. Finally, an unfortunate, as it turned out, compromise vehicle was accepted that consisted of a spaceplane boosted into orbit by two solid fuel rockets and three liquid propellant motors. The latter motors would be supplied from a disposable fuel tank mounted in parallel with the spaceplane and the boosters were attached to this tank. Unlike all previous US manned spacecraft, no provision was made for emergency escape by regular crews in the case of rocket failure. In late 1968 the idea for this partially reusable vehicle was officially adopted by NASA, and in 1972 the go-ahead for the so-called ‘Shuttle’ programme was given official blessing by President Nixon.⁽⁵⁾

The Space Shuttle extravehicular mobility unit back and front view showing the outer thermal and micrometeoroid garment with cutaway of the primary life support subsystem. Although based on the Apollo suit there were a number of significant modifications including the use of tucked fabric joints in place of the Apollo bellows joints. (Hamilton Sundstrand and ILC Dover, LP)

In 1977 the International Latex Corporation was awarded the contract to develop, certify and manufacture the Shuttle spacesuit.⁽⁶⁾ Unlike the spacesuits used in the Apollo and Skylab programmes, where the entire suit was custom manufactured for an individual astronaut, the Shuttle suit was composed of separate components which could be assembled to make spacesuits fit almost any male or female. Several sizes of each component were manufactured and placed in storage for future use. When needed, the components were selected off the shelf depending on the astronaut’s size and assembled into a complete spacesuit. This spacesuit assembly when combined with the life support system was called the extravehicular mobility unit (EMU).

Shuttle spacesuit assembly with thermal and micrometeoroid garment removed to show the pressure bladder with its tucked fabric and rotary bearing joints. (NASA)

This suit bore some similarity to the Apollo suit, although a number of modifications were incorporated. One of these modifications was the introduction of several rotary bearings. The hard upper torso assembly (HUT) was a vest-like, rigid, fibreglass shell which incorporated provisions for arm, lower torso assembly (LTA) and helmet attachment. The arm assembly interfaced with the HUT by an arm scye bearing. Scye is a tailor’s term and refers to the opening in a coat into which a sleeve is sewn. Such a bearing facilitates forwards and backwards movement of the joint.

On the previous Apollo suit, joints were of the bellows type and made of moulded neoprene rubber and reinforced with cables. They had performed excellently on the Moon. However the NASA directive was that the Shuttle suit should be developed at the least cost and developmental risk. It was a technological sidestep rather than an advance. Consequently the suit reverted to tucked fabric joints at the shoulder, arm, wrist, hip and knee. These all-fabric joints were made from a flexible pressure bladder and two sheets of restraint fabric, one sheet for the tensile side (or outside) of the joint and one for the compressed side (or inside) of the joint. Although these joints have higher force requirements to bend than bellows joints, a moderate range of flexion and a shorter operating life, these drawbacks were off-set by their relative simplicity and inexpensive manufacturing costs.

The tucked fabric joints of the Shuttle spacesuit were less expensive than bellows joints. Elongation of the joints was prevented by Dacron webbings. This schematic shows the elbow joint. The upper arm bearing connection is on the right and the glove connection on the left. ‘Fabric sizing’ indicates where the joint can be varied in length for different astronauts. (NASA)

Tucked joints are made by hand on a sewing machine. The same seamstress using the same pattern on the same machine cannot produce two joints with the same tolerances. This makes the tucked joint a ‘black art’ as much as a science. This type of joint’s general unpredictability of bending geometry, bending forces and method of manufacture is why some engineers dislike the concept.⁽²⁾ A bearing between the shoulder’s and the elbow’s flat pattern joints allowed lower arm rotation, that is, the palm up and palm down positions of the hand.

The lower torso assembly (LTA) enclosed the lower part of the trunk and legs and interfaced with the HUT via a body seal closure. The LTA consisted of an integrated body seal closure, a waist bearing, thigh, leg, knee and ankle flat pattern joints. The flexible waist and the waist bearing afforded the astronaut a large degree of bending and hip rotation.

The Apollo suit was designed for only one mission and it had to be lightweight to facilitate the work of astronauts under the influence of the lunar gravity. The Shuttle suit was designed to work only in zero gravity where the astronaut does not feel the weight of the suit. It had to survive repeated missions over a period of 15 years. For these reasons it was much heavier than the Apollo suit. The Apollo suit weighed about 82 kilograms (180 pounds), but the Shuttle suit including the life support system weighed about 141 kilograms (310 pounds). With an astronaut weighing 79 kilograms (175 pounds) the all-up weight was 220 kilograms (485 pounds). It has to be realised that an astronaut needs to take into account the inertial force involved in starting and stopping movement in zero gravity. Even though the suit itself is weightless, it is not without mass. The first EVA using suits on a Shuttle mission was performed by astronauts Story Musgrave and Donald Peterson on 7 April 1983.⁽⁷⁾

Preparation for working in space

Underneath the Shuttle spacesuit the astronaut wore a cooling and ventilation garment. To put on the spacesuit the astronaut first donned the lower torso assembly of the two-piece EMU and then rose into the top section that was hanging on the wall of the Shuttle’s airlock. Connections between the upper and lower parts had to be aligned to enable circulation of water and oxygen for the cooling and ventilation of the suit respectively. Apart from conducting water for body cooling, the liquid cooling and ventilation garment also contained ducting to return gas from the body extremities to the life support system. Then the astronaut put on the gloves and lastly the extravehicular visor and helmet assembly. The astronaut was ready to go to work in space and secured the necessary tools to the mini workstation mounted on the front of the upper torso of the suit. Lights were incorporated into the helmet and were necessary because during orbit around the Earth every other approximately 45-minute period is spent in darkness.⁽⁸⁾

The step-by-step process of donning the extravehicular mobility unit – a major exercise.

Preparation for the EVA began 2.5 hours ahead of time. The shuttle atmosphere was 79% nitrogen and 21% oxygen at a pressure of one atmosphere (760 Torr; 101.3 kilopascals; 14.7 pounds per square inch), that is, the same as the atmospheric pressure on the ground on Earth. The spacesuit, however, was pressurised with pure oxygen at a pressure of only 222 Torr (29.6 kilopascals; 4.3 pounds per square inch).⁽⁸⁾ If the astronaut went directly from the Shuttle atmosphere to the suit atmosphere, this would present a major problem because the nitrogen in solution in the body would tend to form gas bubbles and this could result in the serious condition known as decompression sickness. To prevent decompression sickness the astronaut must breathe pure oxygen for at least two hours before donning the spacesuit. This process ‘washes’ out much of the nitrogen from the body and so significantly reduces the risk of decompression sickness.⁽⁹⁾

The portable life support system was renamed for the shuttle suit and became the primary life support subsystem (PLSS). In principle this system was very similar to that used on the Apollo suit. The emergency or secondary oxygen pack was relocated so that it was attached to the bottom of the PLSS.

The International Space Station

The West’s answer to the Soviet Mir was the 1984 announcement by President Reagan that the United States would build the Freedom space station. The development of this concept followed a tortuous path, but eventually, with the collapse of the Soviet Union and the rapprochement between Russia and the West, a truly International Space Station (ISS) came to fruition. The large payload capacity of the Space Shuttle made this project a practical proposition. The Station was gradually assembled over thirteen years, component by component.

Before Shuttle mission STS-104, only the Russian astronauts could perform space walks from the docking compartment which was attached to the Zvezda service module of the ISS. US astronauts had to make space walks to construct the ISS from the Shuttle. In July 2001 the joint airlock module called Quest was attached to the Space Station. This module was designed to support both US and Russian spacesuits.

A rare product of international goodwill, the International Space Station is the largest man-made object to orbit the Earth. An essential requirement for its construction and maintenance was and remains the capacity for astronauts to work outside the station for periods up to eight hours. This need has been made possible thanks to the ongoing development of practical spacesuits. A far cry from Leonov’s ten minute ‘walk’ in 1964. (NASA)

Challenge of gloves

The Shuttle suit pressure gloves were attached to the lower arm at the wrist disconnects. They incorporated a rotary bearing which allowed wrist rotation and a tucked fabric joint which facilitated flexion and extension of the wrist joint. A hot pad gave protection of the hand from extremely cold conditions. The glove also included fingertip heaters that were controlled by the astronaut.(2, ¹⁰⁾

Since the early 1980s the Shuttle EVA glove design has evolved to meet the challenge of space-based tasks. These tasks were typically satellite retrieval and repair or EVA-based flight experiments. With the commencement of the International Space Station assembly, the number of EVA-based missions increased far beyond that which had been required in the past. To keep up with these demands the space glove has been under constant development.⁽¹¹⁾ Reducing the internal volume of the glove to the barest minimum (referred to as making the glove more conforming) tends to lessen the amount of effort required by the astronaut to change the glove’s shape. A one-piece urethane pressure bladder was designed to exhibit little or no wrinkling when integrated into the restraint layer and this approach significantly improved the fit and performance of the glove. Bellows-like ridges were incorporated into this bladder, which provided additional length for finger flexion and so reduced the force required to bend the fingers. A toggle switch was incorporated in the gauntlet of the thermal and micrometeoroid garment (TMG), which activated heaters in the fingertips. The TMG was developed so that it could be replaced on-orbit if it showed signs of damage. It was also designed so that it closely fitted the pressure restraint layer of the pressure glove, but not so close as to transfer any load onto the restraint layer. Selectively placed break lines in the TMG silicone rubber palm pads provided local areas of reduced resistance to bending which limited the reduction in glove performance produced by the TMG.⁽¹¹⁾

The inner pressure bladder of a space glove, in this case the advanced Phase VI glove, showing ridges to provide extra length when the fingers are flexed. (Reprinted with permission from SAE paper 2001-01-2163 © 2001 SAE International)

The series 4000 Shuttle glove was the longest used space glove in the history of US extravehicular activities to date. Note the tucked fabric joints on the thumb for flexibility and the strong metal palm restraint bar which holds tapes that support the palm and fabric break lines. The remarkable seamstresses’ art required to produce this sophisticated restraint layer is well demonstrated here. (NASA/William Ayrey)

The final repair mission to the Hubble Space Telescope in May 2009 put the Shuttle gloves to a severe test. One of the Shuttle astronauts for this mission, John Grunsfeld, described the gloves as follows: ‘Beneath the outermost layer [the TMG], there are dozens of tiny seams designed to fit the moving hand. There are hundreds of little strings all around that are used for adjustability of the fingers [and] to hold the glove in with the pressure [the restraint layer of the pressure glove]. If you could peel off that layer, you would find there is underneath a rubber bladder layer that has a lot of articulations. The glove rules. You are just inside the glove and trying to work within its limitations.’⁽¹²⁾ Glove design remains more of an art than a science.

The challenge of trying to produce a better glove without compromising astronaut safety goes on. NASA runs competitions to encourage new and hopefully better designs.⁽¹³⁾ Such have been the ongoing problems of gloves that it has been suggested from time to time that the need for fingered gloves could be avoided altogether by the use of special manipulator attachments. Such devices have been discussed in relation to Oberth’s and the Collier’s series spacesuits. The problem with these manipulator gloves is that they have a limited range of actions that can be performed using them.

The outer gauntlet or mitten which is worn over the space glove proper to protect it against heat, micrometeoroids and wear and tear. Note the ribbed silicone rubber gripping surface on the palm area and the loosely tucked fabric joints to aid finger flexibility. (NASA/William Ayrey)

Lunarnauts leave their rover vehicle and are about to enter their moon habitat. The establishment of such a lunar shelter will be an important step towards a permanently manned lunar base. Notice that the astronauts are wearing hybrid spacesuits, a type of suit described later in this chapter. (NASA)

The concept of the Constellation Spacesuit Configuration 1, designed to be worn by astronauts during launch from Earth, re-entry into the Earth’s atmosphere and during weightless extravehicular activities. (NASA)

Future spacesuits

The success of astronauts performing EVAs is highly dependent on the performance of the spacesuit systems. Future spacesuits will have to be capable of handling multiple roles. Such missions will require a spacesuit capable of performing not only in zero gravity, but also under a range of gravity conditions such as on the Moon, Mars and large asteroids. Such a multi-role function will require suit qualities not available currently in any operational spacesuit. These future spacesuits will have to provide full body mobility, be lightweight, robust and comfortable.⁽¹⁴⁾ With the retirement of the Space Shuttle, new space systems are being developed. Additional features of new spacesuits should also include improved reliability and reduced cost of maintenance.

The Constellation Spacesuit System

One day astronauts, possibly with international support, will return to the Moon, this time to establish a permanently manned lunar base. Their spacesuits might take a form similar to the Constellation Spacesuit System, which has been proposed by Oceaneering International Incorporated based in Houston, Texas.⁽¹⁵⁾ The suit would be modular and able to be reconfigured for use for launch, re-entry and abort, as well as microgravity EVAs and use on the lunar surface.

The concept of the Constellation Spacesuit Configuration 2, for astronauts to wear during exploration of the Moon’s surface. (NASA)

Hard suits – back to the future

Some engineers see the revival of the hard suit as a possibility for more sophisticated and adaptable suits in the future. Although the pre-breathing of oxygen prevents decompression sickness in astronauts wearing suits in the pressure range 252 to 264 Torr (33.6 to 35.2 kilopascals; 4.9 to 5.1 pounds per square inch), this process does present an operational inconvenience. The International Space Station’s Earth-like atmosphere has a pressure of 760 Torr (101.3 kilopascals; 14.7 pounds per square inch). However if the pressure reduction from the International Space Station to a spacesuit was only 346 Torr (46.1 kilopascals; 6.7 pounds per square inch), no pre-breathing of oxygen would be necessary in order to avoid decompression sickness. Such a spacesuit would have to contain a pressure of 414 Torr (55.2 kilopascals; 8.0 pounds per square inch), and this pressure is higher than that which can be sustained normally by current soft suit joint construction. Consequently, we may see the resurgence of hard suits with more pressure resistant joint systems. Such joint systems are based on constant volume technology and use fabrication processes that meet the high pressure requirements.⁽¹⁶⁾

Much work was done in this area during the ‘golden decade’ of the 1960s. After President Kennedy announced the goal of a manned moon mission in 1961, NASA realised that one of the pivotal items for the programme would be the lunar suit. Upon reviewing the current pressure suit technology it became apparent to NASA that the Litton Mark 1 chamber suit had significant advantages. Consequently NASA used this Mark 1 suit as a foundation for the lunar suit prototype. Early in 1963 NASA let a contract to Litton Industries Space Science Laboratory for the development of the RX-1 suit. The RX-1 provided a baseline for the evaluation of the so-called stacked rolling joint and hard suit concepts. The sleeves, wrists and legs were of aluminium construction. Despite their complex technical name, these joints were basically a combination of the segmented metal and tucked rolling joints. They consisted of sets of circular aluminium bands that fitted inside each other. When the joint was bent, these bands nested inside each other on the inside of the bend and spread out on the outside of the bend. The fabric of the pressure garment, which was positioned on the inside of the bands was therefore forced to slide or roll over itself. It formed deeper folds on the inside of the bend and fanned out on the outside of the bend. It was prevented from ballooning by the metal bands. A lateral cable mounted on each side of the joint was tethered to each band. The joint was iso-volumetric. These joints were set at the shoulders, elbows, wrists, knees and ankles.

After acceptable trials, NASA decided that further development was in order and contracted Litton to produce a further hard suit prototype coded RX-2. In the end NASA decided on the soft suit approach because the suit would be needed for both intra- and extravehicular use and the hard suit weight and stowage volume were too great to be accommodated in the LEM. One has to feel some degree of sympathy for the Litton company and the creators of its suits. Despite its brilliant design work the company did not receive a major contract to build operational suits for the US space programme.

Gary Harris, author of The Origins and Technology of the Advanced Extravehicular Space Suit, puts it this way: ‘Some of the men and women who were the parents of this cacophonic creative burst during the 1960s are now deceased. These individuals gave so much of their lives to seeing their dreams reach fruition. Sadly, many saw the hopes for their creations dashed by politics, personal intrigue, the mysteries of the NASA procurement system, and government financial chaos, created by a short-sighted President, Congress and American public.’⁽²⁾

No company worked so hard on spacesuits yet received so little reward. The Litton company’s RX-1 hard suit lunar surface prototype had excellent mobility of the upper limb joints at a suit pressure of 259 Torr (35 kilopascals; five pounds per square inch). (NASA)

Hybrid spacesuits

The ILC Mark III spacesuit

An experimental suit called the NASA Mark III was developed by ILC Dover in the 1990s. This suit was a mixture of hard and soft components and such suits are referred to as hybrid suits. It had a hard upper and lower torso and hard hip segments made of graphite/epoxy composite. Rotary bearings were inserted at the shoulder, upper arm, hip, waist and ankle and soft joint elements were incorporated at the elbow, knee and ankle. It was designed for the higher operating pressure of 430 Torr (57.3 kilopascals; 8.3 pounds per square inch) which means that the astronaut could move from the oxygen/nitrogen 760 Torr atmosphere of the International Space Station to the pure oxygen suit atmosphere without risk of decompression sickness. The suit was successfully field-tested in a desert environment. It was entered from the rear unlike the EMU currently in use in the Space Station, which is entered from the waist. It was heavier than other contemporary suits at 59 kilograms (130 pounds), with a 15 kilogram (33 pounds) primary life support system, but it was more mobile. A geologist who once wore the suit stated, ‘The Mark III, in many cases, has almost shirtsleeve-equivalent mobility.’ Subjects were able to kneel to pick up objects, which would have been impossible or very difficult in the Apollo A7L, or the Shuttle EMU suits.⁽¹⁷⁾

‘Mars and beyond’ spacesuits

In 1954 the last of the Collier’s magazine articles on space flight dealt with a manned expedition to Mars. Three manned spacecraft with huge wings would enter the Martian atmosphere and attempt the first human landings on the red planet. At the time the atmospheric pressure on the Martian surface was believed to be around 62 Torr (8.26 kilopascals; 1.2 pounds per square inch), that is, about 1/12 of sea-level pressure on Earth. This pressure is equivalent to the atmospheric pressure 17500 metres (57,000 feet) above the Earth. An illustration from this article shows the astronauts wearing a suit which is based, in part, on the worm suit and in part on the partial pressure suit. These soft suits could be stored without taking up a large volume. In the film The Conquest of Space, the astronauts are shown on Mars wearing ‘boiler-suits’ with a fabric hood possessing a large window. This basic coverall was conceived as a suit to simply supply air or oxygen for breathing and not to provide any protection against the low atmospheric pressure. At times the astronauts are seen with their hands exposed to the atmosphere. Such a suit would have been quite inadequate to protect the explorers, even if the Martian atmospheric pressure had been 62 Torr.

The NASA Mark III suit during field-testing. A clever combination of hard and soft suit joints made this so-called hybrid suit more comfortable and mobile. (NASA)

Martian explorers, as conceived in 1954, at a polar region are preparing a Mars tractor for the long expedition to the equator. They are wearing relatively lightweight pressure suits which we know now would be quite inadequate to protect them from the near vacuum of the Martian atmosphere, not to mention the danger of solar radiation and micrometeoroids. (Illustration by Fred Freeman)

Earlier in the film, in scenes depicting the preparation of the Mars spacecraft in Earth orbit, the astronauts are wearing suits which are clearly designed to protect them from the vacuum of space. It is now known that the average atmospheric pressure on Mars is only 0.45 Torr (0.06 kilopascals; 0.009 pounds per square inch), 138 times smaller than the estimated pressure in the 1950s. This pressure is equivalent to the pressure approximately 60 kilometres (197,000 feet) above the Earth. There is no doubt today that an astronaut on Mars would need a full pressure suit to survive on the Martian surface.

In addition the astronauts would need protection against the severely sterilising solar radiation, micrometeoroids and cold temperatures on Mars. So an outer protective TMG layer as worn by US astronauts working on the ISS would be essential. Another major problem would be the Martian dust. Huge dust storms can arise on Mars which last for months at a time. Wind speeds up to 130-190 kilometres per hour (80-120 miles per hour) have been recorded on the Martian surface. Penetration of dust particles into the mechanical elements, hydraulics and electronics of the spacesuit may present a major problem. Suit cleaning systems would be required to keep suits in optimum condition for the prolonged surface use that would be required for a manned mission to Mars.

A more recent vision of the future showing astronauts dressed in hybrid spacesuits exploring Mars with manned and robotic vehicles. (NASA)

The I-Suit

Realising the shortcomings of the heavy hybrid ILC Mark III suit, NASA awarded a new contract to ILC in 1997. It wanted a suit which could be worn on Mars, but which could also be used for EVAs from the spacecraft during the trip to and from Mars. That is, it wanted an all-purpose suit that was lightweight and did not take up as much precious storage space as a hard suit. The flight to Mars, as currently envisaged, would take many months. In effect NASA wanted the advantages of the hybrid suit, but in a soft suit format. The outcome of this has been the I-Suit. The upper torso is made of soft fabric and lightweight materials are used throughout, such as titanium and carbon-fibre-reinforced epoxy resin. The soft fabric joints contain bellows and tucked joints, and meticulous care is taken in their construction to ensure that they present the least possible resistance to joint movements. There are also a limited number of bearings at the shoulder, upper arm, upper hip and upper leg. In short, the suit is largely the result of refinement of existing technology rather than the result of new technologies. This suit has already gone through several generations and work continues on its development.⁽¹⁸⁾

The I-Suit. A new lightweight soft suit designed for Martian exploration as well as working outside the Mars-bound spacecraft. (NASA/William Ayrey)

A final word – ‘Space Man’

The spacesuit has come a long way from the skin-tight emergency suits which would virtually immobilise the astronaut in the case of sudden cabin decompression, to the new suits planned for long-duration lunar and Martian exploration. Despite the advances that have been made over the last half century there is still much to be learned in order to provide suits that will remain efficient and safe for long-term missions such as an expedition to Mars.

Could man ever be free of the need to wear a spacesuit in the harsh vacuum of the cosmos? In the far future is it possible to conceive that human beings might be sufficiently advanced in genetic engineering as to adapt their bodies in such a way that they could dispense with the spacesuit? Can we imagine a strain of humans that could live in space unprotected except by their specifically adapted anatomy and physiology? Perhaps these space beings of the far future might even travel between the stars but, ironically, might never be able to return to Earth-like conditions. We can only speculate on such radical ideas. Spacesuits similar to those we presently use will continue to be the critical pacing item for manned space missions and the dramatic image of the spacesuited astronaut will remain the ultimate symbol of human space exploration for the foreseeable future.

Spaceman and woman float freely in the cosmos with no apparent protection apart from a bubble helmet. Pure fantasy? Only the far future will tell. (Art by Virgil Finlay)

In the more predictable future, a space explorer leaves the mother ship using a back-mounted rocket unit to inspect an asteroid close-up. The spacesuit will remain a pivotal part of the human exploration, and perhaps, exploitation of space into the foreseeable future. (Art by Robert McCall)

Table One   TYPES OF PRESSURE/SPACESUIT JOINT

Name of type | Example | See Chapter
Segmented metal joint | Oberth concept spacesuit | 3
Ball bearing joint | Ditto | 3
Segmented fabric joint | Goodrich ‘tomato worm’ suit | 4
Ball ands socket joint | German hard suit | 4
Corrugated rubber joint | Goodrich heavy suit | 6
Tucked fabric joint | US Navy Goodrich Mk II suit | 6
Segmented soft fabric joint | Soviet Berkut spacesuit | 7
Rolling joint | Litton Mark 1 suit | 8
Bellows joint | International Latex Corp suit | 8
Stacked rolling joint | Litton RX-1 lunar suit | 10

Buzz Aldrin is seen here wearing an A-7L space suit on the moons surface, during the Apollo 11 mission on 21 July 1969. (NASA)

Chapter Notes

Introduction

1.

K.G. Williams, The New Frontier. Man’s survival in the sky (London: William Heinemann Medical Books Ltd., 1959), 43.

Chapter 1

1.

P.E. Cleator, An Introduction to Space Travel (London: Museum Press Limited 1961), 24, 48-49, 40, 45-46.

2.

Paul Bert, Barometric Pressure. Researches in Experimental Physiology. Originally published in 1878. (Translation from the French, Bethesda Maryland: Undersea Medical Society, Inc., 1978), 3, 700-703, 963-969, 991.

3.

S. Paul Johnston, ‘Air Transportation’ in The New Encyclopaedia Britannica 15th edition, vol. 28 (London: Encyclopaedia Britannica Inc., 1986), 822-823.

4.

George Zinnemann, ‘Aerospace Medicine – Present, past and future’ in ed. Hugh W. Randel Aerospace Medicine 2nd. Edition (Baltimore, USA: Williams & Wilkins Company, 1971), 3-5.

5.

Fred N. White, ‘Respiration and respiratory systems’ in The New Encyclopaedia Britannica 15th edition, vol. 26 (London: Encyclopaedia Britannica Inc., 1986), 771.

6.

Wernher von Braun, and Frederick I. Ordway, History of Rocketry & Space Travel (London: Thomas Nelson and Sons Ltd., 1967), 16, 42.

7.

David Kyle, A Pictorial History of Science Fiction (London: The Hamlyn Publishing Group Limited, 1976), 28, 37.

8.

K.G. Williams, The New Frontier. Man’s Survival in the Sky (London: William Heinemann Medical Books Ltd., 1959), 22-25.

9.

Jules Verne, Round the Moon (New York: A.L. Burt, ca. 1904), 217, the English translation of Autour de la Lune (Paris: J. Hetzel, 1872).

10.

US Navy Diving Manual, Volume 1 (San Pedro, California: Best Publishing Co., 1979), 1.4 -1.5.

11.

Frederick I. Ordway, ‘Collecting literature in the space and rocket fields’, Space Education 1 (September 1982), 176-182.

12.

Frederick I. Ordway, and Randy Liebermann, eds., Blueprint for Space. Science fiction to science fact (North Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 1992), 69.

13.

Arthur C. Clarke, Man and Space (Amsterdam, Nederland: Time-Life International, 1965), 13.

Chapter 2

1.

Fritz M.G. Holmstrom, ‘Hypoxia’ in Aerospace Medicine 2nd edition, ed. Hugh W. Randel (Baltimore: The William & Wilkins Company, 1971), 56-85.

2.

Lillian D. Kozloski, U.S. Space Gear. Outfitting the astronaut (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994), 10.

3.

Sam Moskowitz, ‘The growth of science fiction from 1900 to the early 1950s’ in Blueprint for Space. Science fiction to science fact, ed. Frederick I. Ordway and Randy Liebermann (North Sydney: Allen and Unwin, 1992), 69-82.

4.

David Kyle, A Pictorial History of Science Fiction (London: The Hamlyn Publishing Group Limited, 1976), 46, 52, 54, 55.

5.

Michael Ashley, ‘Pulps and magazines’ in Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, ed. Robert Holdstock (London: Octopus Books Limited, 1978), 50-67.

6.

Harry Harrison, ‘Machine as hero’ in Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, ed. Robert Holdstock (London: Octopus Books Limited, 1978), 86-103.

7.

Charles L. Wilson, ‘Wiley Post: First test of high altitude pressure suits in the United States’, Archives of Environmental Health 10 (May, 1965): 805-810.

8.

‘Prisoners of the air’, Popular Mechanics 56 (August 1931): 177-180.

9.

Pierre de Latil, ‘Auguste Piccard’, in The New Encyclopaedia Britannica 15th edition, vol. 9 (London: Encyclopaedia Britannica Inc., 1986), 421-422.

10.

J. Ernsting, ‘The principles of pressure suit design’ in A Textbook of Aviation Physiology, ed. J.A. Gillies (London: Pergamon Press, 1965), 374-405.

11.

‘Space Suit digest’, Spaceflight 15 (June 1973): 215-218.

12.

Constance C. Bond, ‘The ancestors and lost cousins of the space suit’, Smithsonian 14 (April, 1983), 107-114, 143.

13.

Henry Seeler, ‘Pressure suits and pressure cabins in German aviation’, in German Aviation Medicine World War II, Vol. 1 (Washington, DC: US Government Printing Office, 1950), 526-542.

14.

Charles Wilson, ‘Emergency pressurization of aerospace crews’ in Aerospace Medicine 2nd edition, ed. Hugh W. Randel (Baltimore: Williams & Wilkins Co., 1971), 368.

15.

Alexander von Lünen, Under the waves, above the clouds. PhD thesis submitted to the Technical University, Darmstadt 2007, p. 184-188. Published 2010 at http://tuprints.ulb.tu-darmstadt.de/2103/1/lunen_diss.pdf

16.

John R. Crossland, ed. The Modern Marvels Encyclopedia (London: Collins, ca. 1950), 268-271.

Chapter 3

1.

John R. Crossland, ed., The Modern Marvels Encyclopedia (London: Collins, ca. 1950), 93-98.

2.

US Navy Diving Manual, Vol. 1 (San Pedro, California: Best Publishing Co., 1984), 7.15.

3.

J.W.G. de Groot, The history of: The Neufeldt and Kuhnke armoured diving suit. www.nautiekdiving.nl Published February 2009 on therebreathersite.nl

4.

Hermann Oberth, Man Into Space (London, Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1957), 40-59.

5.

J. Ernsting, ‘The principles of pressure suit design’ in A Textbook of Aviation Physiology, ed. J.A. Gillies (London: Pergamon Press, 1965), 374-405.

6.

A.V.B. Norman, ‘Body armour’ in The New Encyclopaedia Britannica 15th edition, vol. 29 (London: Encyclopaedia Britannica Inc., 1986), 588-590.

7.

Alexander von Lünen, Under the waves, above the clouds. PhD thesis submitted to the Technical University, Darmstadt 2007, p. 200-203. Published 2010 at http://tuprints.ulb.tu-darmstadt.de/2103/1/lunen_diss.pdf

8.

Constance Bond, ‘The ancestors and lost cousins of the space suit’, Smithsonian 14 (April 1983): 107-114.

Chapter 4

1.

Lillian D. Kozloski, U.S. Space Gear. Outfitting the astronaut (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994), 15.

2.

Harry Harrison, ‘Machine as hero’ in Encyclopedia of Science Fiction, ed. Robert Holdstock (London: Octopus Books Limited, 1978), 86-103.

3.

Constance Bond, ‘The ancestors and lost cousins of the space suit’, Smithsonian 14 (April 1983): 107-114, 143.

4.

Vernon J. Wulff, and W. Randolph Lovelace, ‘Development of sub-stratosphere pressure suits in the German Air Force’, Army Air Forces Aid Technical Services Command, Engineering Division Memorandum Report No. TSEAL-3-660-48-M, 11 August 1945.

5.

Frederick R. Ritzinger, and Ellis G. Aboud, ‘Pressure suits – their evolution and development’, Air University Review 16 (January-February 1965): 23-32.

6.

Henry Seeler, ‘Pressure suits and pressure cabins in German aviation’ in German Aviation Medicine World War II, Vol. 1. (Washington, D.C.: US Government Printing Office, 1950), 526-542.

7.

Brett Gooden, Projekt Natter: Last of the Wonder Weapons – The Luftwaffe’s Vertical Take-Off Rocket Interceptor (Surrey, United Kingdom: Luftwaffe Classic No. 11, Classic Publications, an imprint of Ian Allan Publishing Limited, 2006), 104.

8.

Mano Ziegler, Rocket Fighter (London: Arms and Armour Press, 1976), 37.

Chapter 5

1.

Wernher von Braun, An historical essay, ‘Survey of Development of Liquid Rockets in Germany and their Future Prospects’, Spaceflight 14 (November, 1972): 409-412.

2.

‘Divers’ suits’: during the Second World War German rocket science was advancing at such a pace that terminology often lagged behind the actual ideas. Here von Braun clearly means a spacesuit or pressure suit. It is interesting that apparently he did not use the German word for high-altitude pressure suit, Höhenanzug. The Drägerwerke designation used for one of its emergency pressure suit designs was Watanzug, which means literally ‘wading suit’. Consequently Watanzug may have been mistranslated as ‘diving suit’.

3.

John Wilkins, The Discovery of a World in the Moone (London, 1638) in Frederick I. Ordway, ‘Collecting literature in the space and rocket fields. Part 2’, Space Education 1 (October, 1983): 279-287.

4.

David R. Smith, ‘They’re following our script: Walt Disney’s trip to Tomorrowland’, Future No. 2 (May 1978): 54-63.

5.

E.M. Rogers, ‘Speed unlimited’, Popular Mechanics 86 (November, 1946): 96-101, 268, 276, 280.

6.

R. A. Smith, and Arthur C. Clarke, The Exploration of the Moon (London: Frederick Muller Limited, 1954), 28-29.

7.

R.A. Smith and Bob Parkinson, High Road to the Moon. From Imagination to Reality (London: British Interplanetary Society, 1979), 5.

8.

Alastair Crompton, The Man Who Drew Tomorrow (Dorset, United Kingdom: Who Dares Publishing, 1985), 84.

9.

Brett Gooden, ‘The mysterious case of Dan Dare’s Space suit’, Eagle Times 21 (Spring 2008): 35-37.

10.

Marcus Morris and Frank Hampson eds. Dan Dare’s Spacebook (London: Hulton Press Limited, 1953), 63-68.

11.

Randy Liebermann, ‘The Collier’s and Disney Series’ in Blueprint for Space eds. Frederick I. Ordway and Randy Liebermann (North Sydney, Australia: Allan & Unwin, 1992), 135-146.

12.

Heinz Haber, ‘Can we survive in space?’ in Across the Space Frontier ed. Cornelius Ryan (London: Sidgwick and Jackson Limited, 1952), 71-97.

13.

David R. Smith, ‘Walt Disney’s Conquest of Space’, Starlog No. 13 (May 1978): 30-33.

14.

Hermann Oberth, Man Into Space (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1957), 49-50.

15.

Douglas Palmer, The Atlas of the Prehistoric World (Rowville, Victoria: Summit Press, 2004), 86.

16.

Charles Chilton, Journey Into Space (London: Herbert Jenkins Limited, 1954).

17.

Adrian Perkins and Tony Cowley, ‘Journey into Space. Part 4 – Author, Cast & Incidentals’, Eagle Times 13 (Summer 2000): 16-21.

18.

Jack Coggins and Fletcher Pratt, By Space Ship to the Moon (New York, Random House, Inc., 1958).

Chapter 6

1.

Evan F. Lindberg and Earl H. Wood, ‘Acceleration’ in Physiology of Man in Space ed. J.H.U. Brown (New York: Academic Press, 1963), 61-111.

2.

‘Notes from the Air Surgeon’s Office. The G Suit’, Journal of Aviation Medicine., 16 (February 1945): 45-46.

3.

‘The anti-gravity suit’, Lateline TV programme transcript, Australian Broadcasting Corporation, transmitted 22 September 2003). www.abc.net.au/lateline/content/2003/hc34.htm

4.

James Kightly, ‘Australia’s only Hurricane and the anti-g suit’, Flightpath 21 (February-April, 2010): 32-34

5.

Fritz M.G. Holmstrom, ‘Hypoxia’, in Aerospace Medicine ed. Hugh W. Randel (Baltimore: Williams and Wilkins Company, 1971), 56-85.

6.

K.G. Williams, The New Frontier (London, U.K.: William Heinemann Limited, 1959), 29-46.

7.

Charles L. Wilson, ‘Emergency Pressurization of Aerospace Crews’, in ed. Hugh W. Randel, Aerospace Medicine 2nd edition (Baltimore, USA: The Williams & Wilkins Company, 1971), 364-375.

8.

Lillian D. Kozloski, U.S. Space Gear. Outfitting the Astronaut (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994), 26, 30, 33, 36.

9.

‘The well-dressed airman, 1954’, Flight 64 (9 October 1953): 500-501.

10.

Richard W. Bancroft, ‘Pressure Cabins and Rapid Decompression’, in Aerospace Medicine ed. Hugh W. Randel (Baltimore: Williams and Wilkins Company, 1971), 337-363.

11.

Hubertus Strughold, ‘The Earth’s Environment and Aviation’ in Aerospace Medicine ed. Hugh W. Randel (Baltimore: Williams and Wilkins Company, 1971), 22-34.

12.

Frederick R. Ritzinger and Ellis G. Aboud, ‘Pressure Suits – Their Evolution and Development’, Air University Review 16 (January/February 1965): 23-32.

13.

Julian E. Ward, ‘The True Nature of the Boiling of Body Fluids in Space’, Journal of Aviation Medicine 27 (October 1956): 429-439.

14.

Allan C. Fisher, ‘Aviation Medicine on the Threshold of Space’, National Geographic (August 1955): 240-278.

15.

Wilhelm Hornberger, ‘Decompression Sickness’, in Department of the Air Force, German Aviation Medicine World War II (Washington, DC: Superintendent of Documents, US Government Printing Office, 1950), Volume I, 354-394.

16.

M.F.A., ‘Fiction and Fact’, Flight 164 (13 November 1953): 653.

17.

Charles F. Gell, Edward L. Hays and James V. Correale. ‘Developmental History of the Aviator’s Full Pressure Suit in the U.S. Navy’, Journal of Aviation Medicine 30 (April 1959): 241-250.

18.

‘Notes and news’, Journal of the British Interplanetary Society 12 (September 1953): 239.

19.

David Svetcos, ‘The SR-71 Pilot Full Pressure Suit’ www.wvi.com/~sr71webmaster/press_suit001.html Accessed 16 July 2009.

20.

Dennis R. Jenkins, Hypersonics Before the Shuttle, A Concise History of the X-15 Research Airplane (Washington, DC: NASA Publications SP-2000-4518, 2000).

21.

Lloyd Mallan, Suiting Up For Space (New York: The John Day Company: 1971), 77, 99-100.

Chapter 7

1.

Kenneth W. Gatland, Astronautics in the Sixties (London: Iliffe Books Limited, 1962), 319-326, 317.

2.

Loyd S. Swenson, James M. Grimwood and Charles C. Alexander, This New Ocean. A History of Project Mercury (Washington, D.C.: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 1966), 36, 132, 228, 230, 231, 368.

3.

Dennis R. Jenkins, Hypersonics Before the Shuttle, A Concise History of the X-15 Research Airplane, NASA Publication SP-2000-4518 (Washington D.C.: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 2000), 39, 70.

4.

Lloyd Mallan, Man Into Space (Greenwich, Connecticut: Fawcett Publications Inc., 1960), 76-93.

5.

‘MC-2 space suit’, Encyclopedia Astronautica, 2009. www.astronautix.com/craft/mc2.htm Accessed 29 November 2009.

6.

Lillian D. Kozloski, U.S. Space Gear. Outfitting the Astronaut (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994), 39.

7.

Results of the First U.S. Manned Orbital Space Flight February 20, 1962 (Washington, D.C.: Superintendent of Documents, US Government Printing Office 1962), 34-37.

8.

Mary Bellis, ‘The history of spacesuits’. inventors.about.com/od/sstartinventions/a/spacesuits.htm Accessed 17 July 2009.

9.

Gemini Mid-Program Conference. Part 1, February 23-25, 1966. Preprint (Houston Texas: NASA Manned Spacecraft Center), 6.2, 6.8.

10.

‘Space suit digest’, Spaceflight 15 (June 1973): 215-218.

11.

Lloyd Mallan, Suiting Up For Space (New York: The John Day Company, 1971), 101, 52-54.

12.

David Shayler, Walking in Space (Berlin: Springer-Verlag, 2004), 27-30.

13.

‘Space Race. Racing to the Moon’, National Air and Space Museum, Smithsonian Institution. www.nasm.si.edu/exhibitions/gal114/SpaceRace/sec300/sec350.htm Accessed 1 January 2011.

14.

Edgar M. Cortwright, ed. Apollo Expeditions to the Moon (Washington, DC: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 1975), 18.

15.

David Svetcos, ‘The SR-71 Pilot Full Pressure Suit’ www.wvi.com/~sr71webmaster/press_suit001.html Accessed 16 July 2009.

16.

Reginald M. Machell, ed., Summary of Gemini Extravehicular Activity (Washington D.C.: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 1967), 4.2, 3.8-3.11, 6.39-6.41.

17.

Gary L. Harris, The Origins and Technology of the Advanced Extravehicular Space Suit (San Diego, California: American Astronautical Society), 286-287.

18.

Eugene A. Cernan and Don Davis, Last Man on the Moon (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1999), 131, 134.

Chapter 8

1.

Harry E. Ross, ‘Lunar spacesuit’, Spaceflight 13 (November 1971): 439.

2.

G.V. Groves, ed., M.F. Allward, L.J. Carter, H.E. Ross and K.W. Gatland, ‘Astronautics in Britain – 5’, Spaceflight 9 (September 1967): 299-304.

3.

Thomas E. Stimson, ‘Rocket to the Moon. No longer a Fantastic Dream’ Popular Mechanics 93 (May 1950): 89-94, 230, 236.

4.

Cornelius Ryan, ed., Wernher von Braun, Fred L. Whipple and Willy Ley. Man on the Moon (London: Sidgwick and Jackson Limited, 1953).

5.

Heinz Haber, ‘The Astrophysicist’s Views’ Journal of Aviation Medicine 28 (October, 1957): 487-492.

6.

Elaine Woo, ‘Siegfried Hansen, 90; Space suit Pioneer’, Los Angeles Times (14 July 2002).

7.

Kenneth S. Thomas, and Harold J. McMann US Spacesuits (Chichester, U.K.: Praxis Books, 2006).

8.

Gary L. Harris, The Origins and Technology of the Advanced Extravehicular Space suit (San Diego, California, USA: American Astronautical Society, 2001), 18-19, 34-35, 121-125.

9.

Lloyd Mallan, Man Into Space (Greenwich, Connecticut: Fawcett Publications Inc., 1960), 58.

10.

Mark Wade, ‘Mark I ELSS’, astronautix.com/craft/marielss.htm Accessed 2008.

11.

Lillian D. Kozloski, U.S. Space Gear. Outfitting the Astronaut (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994), 33.

12.

‘ILC Dover History’, www.ilcdover.com/company/images/ILCDover_History.pdf Accessed 3 November 2005.

13.

C.J. Davey, ‘Some Ancient Near Eastern Pot Bellows’ Levant 9 (1979): 101-111.

14.

Wernher von Braun, ‘What an Astronaut will wear on the Moon’ Popular Science 186 (April 1965): 87-88.

15.

Walton L. Jones, ‘Individual life-support systems outside a spacecraft cabin, spacesuits and capsules’ in ed. Melvin Calvin and Oleg G. Gazenko, Foundations of Space Biology and Medicine, Volume III. Space Medicine and Biotechnology (Washington, D.C.: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 1975).

16.

Wernher von Braun, First Men to the Moon (New York, U.S.A.: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1960).

17.

Bill Dunkerley, ‘Space clothing’ Boys’ Life (October 1964): 42.

Chapter 9

1.

‘A7L’. www.astronautix.com/craft/a7l.htm Accessed 4 October 2009.

2.

‘Gemini space suit’. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gemini_space_suit Accessed 4 October 2009.

3.

‘ILC Dover’. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/ILC_Dover Accessed 3 October 2009.

4.

‘Apollo/Skylab A7L’. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo/Skylab_A7L Accessed 4 October 2009.

5.

Gary L. Harris, The Origins and Technology of the Advanced Extravehicular Space Suit (San Diego, California: American Astronautical Society, 2001), 74, 111, 289-293.

6.

Mitchell R. Sharpe, Living in Space. The astronaut and his environment (London: Aldus Books Limited, 1969), 126-128.

7.

‘Space suit digest’, Spaceflight 15 (June 1973): 215-218.

8.

Kenneth S. Thomas and Harold J. McMann. US Spacesuits (Chichester, UK: Springer-Praxis Books, 2006), 126-127).

9.

‘Apollo 11 Lunar Landing Mission Press Kit’, Release No. 69-83K (Washington, D.C.: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 6 July 1969), 117-122.

10.

Lillian D. Kozloski, U.S. Space Gear. Outfitting the Astronaut (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1994), 33.

11.

Walton L. Jones, ‘Individual life-support systems outside a spacecraft cabin, spacesuits and capsules’ in ed. Melvin Calvin and Oleg G. Gazenko, Foundations of Space Biology and Medicine, Volume III. Space Medicine and Biotechnology (Washington, D.C.: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 1975), 193-223.

12.

‘Space suit’ www.apollosaturn.com/asnr/p223-228.htm Accessed 10 October 2009.

13.

David Graziosi, James Stein, Amy Ross and Joseph Kosmo, ‘Phase VI advanced EVA Glove Development and Certification for the International Space Station’, 2001. http://spacecraft.ssl.umd.edu/design_lib/ICES01-2163.phaseVI_glove.pdf Accessed 7 October 2009.

14.

‘Wardrobe for space’ Information Summaries, National Aeronautics and Space Administration, July 1989 www.spaceref.com/iss/eva.wardrobe.in.space/html Accessed 7 October 2009.

15.

Edgar M. Cortwright, ed., Apollo Expeditions to the Moon (Washington, D.C.: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 1975), 157, 279.

16.

Eric M. Jones, ‘Apollo Lunar Surface Journal, PLSS Technical Information’, http://1996history.nasa.gov/alsj/plss.html Accessed 20 October 2009.

17.

‘The PLSS (Portable Life Support System) The Spacesuit and Pressure Suit Homepage’ Accessed 10 October 2009. www.geocities.com/CapeCanaveral/Lab/5115/plss.htm

18.

Paul Scanlon and Michael Gross, The Book of Alien (London: W.H. Allen & Co. Ltd., 1979), 55.

Chapter 10

1.

Apollo/Skylab A7L. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Apollo/Skylab_A7L Accessed 4 October 2009.

2.

Gary L. Harris, The Origins and Technology of the Advanced Extravehicular Space Suit (San Diego, California, USA: American Astronautical Society, 2001), 3, 40-41, 44,128-135, 255-256, 296-301, 307.

3.

Giles Sparrow, Spaceflight. A Complete Story from Sputnik to Shuttle and Beyond (London: Dorling Kindersley Limited, 2007)178-183, 210-213.

4.

R.A. Smith and Arthur C. Clarke, Exploration of the Moon (London, U.K.: Frederick Muller Limited, 1954).

5.

Kenneth Gatland, Mark Hewish and Pearce Wright, The Space Shuttle Handbook (Sydney, New South Wales: Golden Press, 1979).

6.

‘ILC Dover History’. www.ilcdover.com/company/images/ILC_Dover_History.pdf Accessed 3 November 2005.

7.

‘Space suit evolution from custom tailored to off-the-rack’. ILC Dover, Inc. 1994. http://history.nasa.gov/spacesuits.pdf Accessed 7 October 2009.

8.

‘Wardrobe for space’ Information Summaries, National Aeronautics and Space Administration, July 1989 www.spaceref.com/iss/eva.wardrobe.in.space/html Accessed 7 October 2009.

9.

Kerry M. Joels, Gregory P. Kennedy and David Larkin, The Space Shuttle Operator’s Manual (London, U.K.: Macmillan Publishers Limited, 1983), 3.15.

10.

‘The Shuttle Space Suit Assembly. 1994’. http://history.nasa.gov/spacesuits.pdf Accessed 7 October 2009.

11.

David Graziosi, James Stein, Amy Ross and Joseph Kosmo, ‘Phase VI advanced EVA glove development and certification for the International Space Station’, 2001. http://spacecraft.ssl.umd.edu/design_lib/ICES01-2163.phaseVI_glove.pdf Accessed 7 October 2009.

12.

John Grunsfeld, ‘Hands on Hubble’ 6 June 2008 http://www.pbs/wgbh/nova/sciencenow/dispatches/080606.html Accessed 15 October 2009.

13.

‘Astronaut glove challenge winners announced’. 20 November 2009 http://www.universetoday.com/2009/11/20astronaut-glove-challenge-winners-announced Accessed 22 November 2009.

14.

David Graziosi and Ryan Lee, ‘I-Suit advanced spacesuit design improvements and performance testing’, 2003 at http://spacecraft.ssl.umd.edu/design_lib/ICES03-2443.l-Suit_tests.pdf Accessed 10 October 2009.

15.

‘Constellation space suit system contract award announcement’, 12 June 2008 http://www.nasa.gov/pdf/246726main_ConstellationSpaceSuitSystemBriefing.pdf Accessed 10 October 2009.

16.

Walton L Jones, ‘Individual life-support systems outside a spacecraft cabin, spacesuits and capsules’ in eds. Melvin Calvin and Oleg G. Gazenko Foundations of Space Biology and Medicine, Volume III Space Medicine and Biotechnology (Washington, D.C.: National Aeronautics and Space Administration, 1975).

17.

‘Mark III (space suit)’ at http://wapedia.mobi/en/Mark_III_(space_suit) Accessed 19 November 2009.

18.

William Ayrey, ‘ILC Space Suits & Related Products’ http://history.nasa.gov/alsj/ILC-Spacesuits-RevA.pdf Accessed 20 March 2012.

Index

A/P22S-2 USAF pressure suit 65

A1C spacesuit (Apollo) 95

A7L spacesuit (Apollo) 96, 98, 102, 117

A7LB spacesuit (Apollo) 103, 106

Across the Space Frontier book 41

Adams, Flight Lieutenant M.J. 22

Aldrin, Buzz 66

Amazing Stories magazine 15-17

anti-g suit 51-53, 55

Apollo ‘Block I’ spacesuit 95

Apollo ‘Block II’ lunar suit 95, 97

Apollo spacesuit 84, 95-97, 104, 110, 111, 113

Ardan, Michel 11

Aristotle 9

Armstrong, Neil 66

art, spacesuit as 104

Asimov, Professor Isaac 30, 31

Astounding Stories magazine 24

AX-6 Navy/Arrowhead pressure suit 88, 91

Barometric Pressure (La Pression Barométrique) book 11

Bass, Alfie 46

Berkut (Golden Eagle) spacesuit 78, 79, 104

Bert, Paul, Father of Aviation Medicine 10, 11

Bonestell, Chesley 41, 85, 91

Borman, Frank 80

Boyle, The Honourable Robert, Father of Chemistry 18, 19

Braun, Dr. Wernher von 37, 40-42, 84, 86, 92

British lightweight full pressure suit 57

By Space Ship to the Moon book 48

Canned suit 93, 94

Capsule suit 93

Cernan, Eugene A. 80

Chaffee, Roger B. 95

Charles, J.-A.-C. 10

Chatham, Alice King 55

children’s spacesuits 49

Chilton, Charles 46

Clark, David M. 62, 65

Clarke, Arthur C. 40, 84, 104

Coggins, Jack 48

Colley, Russell M. ‘Russ’ 19-21, 27-29, 50, 69, 87

Collier’s series spacesuit 40

Conquest of Space motion picture 91, 118

Constellation spacesuit system 115, 116

Cotton, Professor Frank 51, 52

Coxwell, Henry 10

Crocé-Spinelli, Joseph 10, 11

Crossfield, Scott 65

Dan Dare, Pilot of the future comic strip 40

Dan Dare’s Space Fleet standard spacesuit (Mark 3 – 1999) 39, 40

David Clark full pressure suit 63, 64

David Clark light pressure suit 62

David Clark slip-knit suit 62

David Clark suit 69, 77, 80

David Clark T-1 suit 54, 74

Davis, Sir Robert H. 17

de Camp, L. Sprague 30, 31

de Graffigny, Henry 13

deep-diving suit 26

Destination Moon motion picture 84-86

Disney, Walt 37, 42, 43

Dräger, Johann Heinrich 31

Drägerwerke light pressure suit 33-35

Dryden, Hugh L., NASA Deputy Director 69

Einstein, Albert 14

Eisenhower, President Dwight 42

Electrical Experimenter magazine 15

Faulds, Andrew 46

First Men to the Moon book 92

full pressure suit 56, 58, 65, 69, 118

Gagarin, Yuri 74, 75

Garriott, Owen K. 106

Gatland, Kenneth 84

Gemini G1C spacesuit 77

Gemini G2C spacesuit 77

Gemini G2G spacesuit 77

Gemini G3C spacesuit 77, 95

Gemini G4C spacesuit 78, 80

Gemini G5C spacesuit 80, 82

Gemini spacesuit 76, 79, 80, 95

Gerling, Carl Adolph 31

Gernsback, Hugo, Father of Science Fiction 15-17

Giraud, Jean ‘Moebius’ 104

Glaisher, James 10

Glenn, John 72

Glennan, T. Keith, NASA Administrator 69

gloves 33, 55, 99, 114

Goodrich 1941 ‘Strata suit’ 27, 28

Goodrich heavy suit 58, 88

Goodrich Mark I to IV 61

Goodrich S model 60, 61

Goodrich S series Mark IV 69

Goodrich tomato worm suit 29, 86

Gorman, William 12

Griffith, George 13, 14

Grissom, Virgil ‘Gus’ 71, 77, 95

Grunsfeld, John 114

H.E. Ross moon suit 83, 84

Haber, Heinz 40-43

Haldane, Professor John Scott 17-19

Haldane-Davis stratosphere flying suit 17, 18

Hale, Edward 10

Hampson, Frank 39, 40

Hansen, Dr Siegfried ‘Siggy’, Father of the Extravehicular Activity suit 87, 88

hard deep-diving suit 23, 24

hard pressure/spacesuits 24, 25

hard suit prototype coded RX-2 117

hard-hat diving suit 12, 14, 15

Harris, Gary 117

Harrison, Harry 17, 31

Heinlein, Robert A., Dean of Science Fiction Writers 30, 31, 85

Henry, Dr. James Paget 53, 55

Henry’s partial pressure suit designated S-1 54, 55

Hucks, William R. 19

hybrid spacesuit 17, 104, 115, 117-119

ILC Mark III spacesuit 96, 117, 119

International Space Station spacesuit 108

I-Suit 119

Italian hard pressure suit 26

joints, types of 121 (Table 1)

Journey Into Space BBC radio serial and spacesuit 45-47

Kennedy, President John F. 76, 95, 116

Kepler, Johannes 9

Kincheloe, Captain Iven C., Jr. 88

Kipfer, Paul 17

Klanke pressure suit 22

Klanke, Dr. Gerhard 22

Klep, Rolf 86

Krechet (Tamed Falcon) lunar suit 104, 107

Kubrick, Stanley 104

Laurent, François, marquis d’Arlandes 9

Lavoisier, Antoine 10

Le Faure, Georges 13

Leichter Druckanzug (light pressure suit) 33

Leonov, Alexei 79, 104

Ley, Willy 40, 42, 48, 50, 84, 86, 91

link-net weave 62

Litton Mark 1 pressure suit 87, 88, 116

Lousma, Jack Robert 106

Lovell, James A. ‘Jim’ 80

Lunar Exploration Suit 93

Man on the Moon book 86, 87

Manning, Gordon 40

Mark I, Extravehicular and Lunar Surface Suit’ 88

Mars and beyond spacesuits 117

Massey, Raymond 80, 82

Mercury spacesuit 69, 71, 73

Mihailov, Gennady 74

Mir extravehicular activity suit 108

Mir space station spacesuit 106

Modern Electrics magazine 15

Montgolfier, Jacques-Étienne 9

Montgolfier, Joseph Michel 9

Musgrave, Story 111

NASA Mark III 117

Natter vertical take-off rocket interceptor 35, 36

Navy Goodrich heavy suit 58, 59

Navy Mark I to IV pressure suits (B.F. Goodrich) 61, 69

Net, The motion picture and pressure suit 44-46

Neufeldt und Kuhnke deep-diving suit 24

Nixon, President Richard 110

Oberth, Hermann 24, 25, 31, 43, 114

Oberth’s hard spacesuit 25

Orlan-D spacesuit 107, 108

Orlan-IVA spacesuit 107

Pal, George 85, 91

Partial pressure suit 53, 55-58, 69, 74, 92, 117

Pascal, Blaise 9

Paul, Frank R., Dean of Science Fiction Illustrators 15, 16, 43, 44

Périer, Florin 9

Peterson, Donald 111

Pezzi, Colonel Mario 26

Piccard, Auguste 17

Pilâtre de Rozier, Jean-François 9

Poe, Edgar Allan 10

Post, Wiley 19-21, 27, 69, 74

Poynter, Guy Kingsley 46

Pratt, Fletcher 48

Reagan, President Ronald 113

Ridge, Mark 17, 18

Ritzinger USAF Lieutenant Colonel Frederick R., Jr. (MC) 36

Robert, Nicolas-Louis 10

Robertson, Squadron Leader Ken V. 52

Rogers, Will 21

Ross Moon suit 84, 87

Ross, Harry E. 37, 38, 83, 84

Ross-Smith spacesuit 37, 39

Round the Moon (Autour de la Lune) book 11

RX-series ‘Moon Suits’ 88, 116, 117

Salyut space station spacesuit 106

Scott, David 103

Seven Year Itch, The motion picture 49

Sharp, Don 46

Shepard, Alan B., Jr. 71-73

Shuttle suit 110, 111, 114, 117

Siebe Gorman diving suit 12, 19, 22, 33

Siebe, Augustus 12

Sieber, Lothar 36

Sivel, Theodore 10, 11

SK-1 Soviet spacesuit 74, 75

Skylab spacesuit 106

slip knit pressure suit 62

Smith, Ralph A. 37, 38

Sorima deep-sea diving suit 23, 24, 26

Soviet Orlan-D extravehicular suit 108

Soviet partial pressure suit 74

Soviet spacesuit 73-75

Space Fleet spacesuit 40

Space Shuttle spacesuit 108

S-series partial pressure suits 55, 74

Stafford, Thomas 80

Strughold, Professor Hubertus, Father of Space Medicine 43

sublimator/heat exchanger 101, 102

Submarine escape suit 46

Swain, Squadron-Leader F.R.D. 22

Things to Come motion picture 80, 82

Thomas, Dr. Andrew ‘Andy’ 108

Tietze, Dr. Hermann 31, 33, 35

‘tin woodsman’ suit 30-32

Tissandier, Gaston 10, 11

tomato hornworm worm suit 29-31, 37, 38, 43, 50

Tsiolkovsky, Konstantin 14

Unparalleled Adventures of one Hans Pfaall, The book 10

Unwins, Captain C.F. 17

Verne, Jules 11

VKK Soviet partial pressure suit 74

Vostok suit 79

Whipple, Fred L. 86

White II, Edward H. ‘Ed’ 80-82, 95

White, Alvin 65

White, Major Robert M. 65

Wilkins, Bishop John 9, 37

Wizard of Oz, The stage production and motion picture 30, 31

Wright, Orville 14

Wright, Wilbur 14

X-15 pressure suit 65, 69

XH pressure suits (B.F. Goodrich) 27

XMC-2-DC pressure suit (David Clark) 65

XMC-2-ILC suit 89

Yeager, Charles B. ‘Chuck’ 55, 65

Young, John W. 77

Astronaut Clay Anderson waves while working on the International Space Station which orbits the Earth. His complex spacesuit is the end product of more than fifty years of arduous work, of success and failure, by dedicated scientists and engineers. Great challenges still remain to create the interplanetary suits of tomorrow. (NASA)