Journey Into Space Read Online Free PDF Page B

member, were housed in a building that contained the ablutions, rest room, games room and dining room. Each bedroom was approximately twenty feet square and contained a bed, a bedside table, writing desk, bookcase and wardrobe and the intercommunication panel I have already described.
    The television screen served three purposes. With the correct combination of buttons situated in the control board just above the bed, it was possible to select either a television programme relayed from Adelaide, the film being shown in the camp cinema or a view of the rocket, long shot or close-up, under construction. Always, before I finally put out the light and went to sleep, I looked in on the rocket for a few’ minutes to see how she was coming on. I shall not easily forget the sight of her, standing there, brilliantly illuminated by the arc lamps and surrounded by dozens of supply trucks. Up and down the gantry shot elevators carrying construction engineers and prefabricated parts of the ship. Directly behind her were the tallest peaks of the Horseshoe range with the observatory nestled comfortably on the top. The observatory was the last object to reflect the rays of the setting sun at night and the first in the morning when, with the sun behind it, it stood out against the jagged skyline in silhouette.
    The ship was almost complete now, complete enough for us to occupy the cabin and go through the take-off routine. For nearly a week we lived in her, going through every procedure of take-off, flight and landing on the Moon. We lived under identical conditions of space flight, except that we were earthbound. Our air supply was oxygenized, our food taken cold. When we stepped out of the ship, it was through an airlock and in space suits. We unloaded the astronomical gear, cameras and geiger counter and solemnly set about exploring the Horseshoe plain as though we were already on the Moon. We chipped out samples of rock, collected and boxed handfuls of dust and radioed our findings back to base--less than ten miles away.
    At last we were ready. On the day before take-off we worked up to the last moment, had dinner at seven and retired to bed. We had been told to relax--and sleep.
    It was easier said than done. It had been a hot day--an extremely hot day. Official reading down at the air strip had reached 112° F in the shade. Over at the launching platform the ground crew, most of them naked from the waist up except for that peculiarly national piece of Australian headwear, the bush hat, had laboured in the merciless sun from dawn to dusk, working against time to have everything checked, re-checked and ready for the fuel crews to take over. As the sun went down, the last of them put on his shirt, climbed aboard the passenger truck and went hurtling across the desert towards the living quarters, a cool shower and a lusty supper in the ground staff canteen.
    As the platform crew trucks arrived, those of the fuel crews left, the men aboard them donning their protective clothing as they went. An hour later the pump lines had been connected and the transfer of hundreds of tons of highly explosive liquid fuel and oxydiser from their underground storage to the ship’s tanks had begun.
    I watched the fuellers at work on the screen. I had drawn the curtains of the window and rays of light from an eight-day old Moon entered the opening at an angle, illuminating the notebooks and text books piled up on the table.
    Outside, as darkness fell, I knew that the cries of the dingos would mingle with the low, powerful hum of the pump motors. I imagined the orders barked at the men as they climbed the gantries, disconnected and reconnected the lines and kept a watchful eye on the gauges. Every man, completely enclosed in his suit, received his orders via his personal radio and made his reports back to Control in the same way. Fuelling was a tough, skilful and dangerous job and it was carried out to a precise routine. They would be at it for hours yet,