Chapter 77: Creating History

On May 5, at the Cape Canaveral launch site in Florida, NASA was preparing to execute its first manned space mission—the launch of the Freedom 7 spacecraft.

To the Americans, this was also a landmark moment in American space history.

Although slower than the Soviets by just a step, being second in the world was still an honor.

Yet the night before launch, an unexpected decision by NASA Administrator James Webb completely altered the course of history.

“I’m sorry, but I feel uneasy—NASA has had too many failures in the past, and I fear this launch will fail too.”

“In the past, rocket failures only involved the rocket itself, but this time we have human astronauts. For safety’s sake, my suggestion is to replace the astronaut with a gorilla,” said James Webb.

James Webb frowned, looking as if he had given the matter serious thought.

The senior NASA officials exchanged glances—tomorrow was launch day, and now you’re telling us to swap in a gorilla?

Gagarin was already in space a month ago; aren’t we in a hurry?

Don’t we need a successful manned mission to boost morale?

More importantly, you’re saying this now—where are we supposed to find a gorilla in one day?

This godforsaken place, Cape Canaveral in Florida, doesn’t even have a zoo.

The meeting wasn’t just marked by heated debate—everyone opposed Webb’s proposal.

They strongly advocated proceeding with the original plan, arguing that delay would damage America’s international reputation and dismissing Webb’s concerns as nonsense.

At that moment, Kennedy’s voice rang out through the room via telephone:

“I fully support James Webb’s opinion. This decision rests with him.”

Only after James Webb had military personnel wheel a gorilla into the meeting room did everyone realize Webb had planned this all along.

Everyone had long known NASA’s leadership had changed, and the White House had sent a Special Assistant for Space Affairs—internal personnel shifts were inevitable.

Yet two months had passed, and neither James Webb nor Lin Ran had moved a muscle.

They had assumed Washington was satisfied with NASA’s work, never imagining they were being waited out.

Their hearts sank—what if it truly failed? Would that not be slapping their faces on the ground?

All of NASA’s risk controls couldn’t outweigh James Webb’s instinct.

The meeting’s outcome spread rapidly through NASA; the decision struck like a thunderclap, shocking everyone—especially Shepard.

As the first astronaut slated to enter space, Alan Shepard had endured months of rigorous training, filled with anticipation and pride.

Yet hours before launch, he was summoned to Webb’s office. Webb, grave-faced, explained: “Alan, I know this is hard to accept, but the rocket carries potential risk. I cannot let our astronaut take that chance. We’ve decided to test safety with a gorilla.”

Shepard had already heard rumors, but hearing James Webb say it to his face still stirred a storm of emotions.

He could not comprehend Webb’s sudden decision.

As an astronaut, his sense of honor and duty made it unbearable.

His dream—becoming America’s first man in space—seemed stolen by a gorilla.

He forced himself to suppress his emotions and replied calmly: “Administrator, I believe I can complete the mission. I am ready.”

But Webb insisted this mission demanded caution; if the gorilla’s launch succeeded, Shepard would soon get another chance.

After leaving the office, Shepard returned alone to his room, his inner turmoil raging. He felt anger and disappointment, even a tinge of humiliation.

On launch day, media from all over gathered at Cape Canaveral in Florida, including European newspapers.

Everyone had heard of NASA’s last-minute decision over breakfast; by the time the pre-launch press conference began, the room erupted in uproar, reporters firing question after question.

Webb explained at the press conference: “We must ensure the rocket’s safety—it’s our responsibility to future missions. The gorilla’s launch will provide critical data.”

Lin Ran stepped forward at the right moment, placing a transparent glass box on the table, then pulling a letter from his suit jacket pocket.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I ask you to witness me placing this letter into this transparent box.”

“This letter explains why we replaced the human astronaut with a gorilla.”

“After the launch concludes, you will all open it together.”

With that, Lin Ran slipped the letter into the box. The room erupted into louder discussion.

Everyone present were seasoned journalists—they had never seen anything like this.

NASA’s engineers were even more panicked, unsure what strange scheme the new administrator and the Special Assistant for Space Affairs were hatching.

The entire morning, the launch site was tense, heavy, and eerily strange.

Shepard stood in the observation area, staring at the Redstone rocket carrying the gorilla.

He hoped the launch succeeded—to prove the rocket was safe and he could regain his chance soon; yet he also sensed something was off.

At 9:34 a.m., the rocket ignited and lifted off, its roar deafening. It ascended smoothly to an altitude of 187 kilometers, then the automatic control system began to malfunction.

Just two minutes and fifteen seconds into planned orbital flight, the spacecraft began an uncontrolled left roll.

“Bad! The spacecraft is rolling left at approximately one degree per second—ASCS cannot correct this!”

“Roll rate is increasing.”

“Speed has reached ten degrees per second—ASCS is completely out of control!”

“There must be a component failure in the control system!”

“We’re done!”

Ground control descended into chaos; they helplessly watched from real-time monitors as Freedom 7 lost control, burned up upon reentry, and disintegrated in the atmosphere.

If the spacecraft couldn’t maintain the correct attitude for atmospheric reentry, the heat shield could not protect it—the craft would burn or break apart under extreme heat.

Robert Gilruth in the control center was numb.

The spacecraft really had failed.

Upon hearing the news, James Webb announced loudly:

Just now, NASA’s control center reported: the Freedom 7 launch has failed. The spacecraft burned up during atmospheric reentry.

“You should be able to find photos of its mid-air disintegration from space enthusiasts soon.”

“Or you may wait for NASA’s official photographs to be released.”

Webb continued: “Our timely intervention prevented a tragedy and protected the astronaut’s life.”

“Now, Professor Lin will explain the full story of this incident—it’s time to open the letter we prepared at the outset.”