Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut's Journey

“There seem to be two moons now, the one I see in my back yard and the one I remember from up close. Intellectually, I know they are one and the same but emotionally they are separate entities. The small moon, the one I have known all my life, remains unchanged, except that I now know it is three days away.”

Michael Collins’ memoir, Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut’s Journeys is an incredibly fitting title. Here Mike takes us all the way from his test pilot days to his orbital time in Gemini 10 and then to his piloting of Apollo 11 where his job was to essentially drop the kids (Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong) off on the moon and pick them up later when they were through. Whether he’s writing about his test pilot days, his show more astronaut training days, or his days on Gemini 10 or Apollo 11, Collins doesn’t spare any details. Sometimes the details are funny (one man wrote a letter to the Apollo 11 crew to watch out for the giant ant hills on the moon – he could tell them where they were – for a fee); sometimes they are crude (how do astronauts do that in space anyway?) and sometimes they are incredibly heartbreaking such as the loss of three astronauts in the on-the-ground fire in Apollo 1. This book is only the second one I’ve read on the space program (the first one being Lost Moon) and I learned a lot from it.

Training to be an astronaut was no easy thing. Up and coming astronauts had to spend 240 hours studying various things such as astronomy, aerodynamics, and flight mechanics. A lot of time was spent studying geology since the astronauts were expected to bring back a pretty sizeable haul of moon rocks. Since it was predicted that if a rocket was going to fall back to Earth it would crash near the equator, the astronauts-in-training had to complete a few days of learning how to survive in the desert and the jungle. Survival training included some classroom time plus a survival manual bible, “Air Force Manual 64-5’s, entitled Survival,” with its sage advice for the new jungle dweller: “ ‘Dangerous beasts – tigers, rhinoceros, elephants – are rarely seen and best left alone.’ I’ll say!”

Not only do we get to fly shot-gun with Mike on his two space flights, he also takes us with him through all those hours upon hours in simulators where he would try to solve every possible scenario the engineers could throw at him. The questions of “what if?” “what do we do if?” and “how do we deal with THAT?” were inexhaustible and it required a gigantic team of all kinds of experts to brainstorm all the contingencies. Bad enough to have to spend so much time getting ready for the space flight itself, but there was PR to tend to as well. A few months before the Apollo 11 flight, an exhausted Collins went straight from simulator exercises to flying himself to some PR event . On the way back home he realizes he has become disoriented: “With a jolt I realized it had been a long day and I was making mistakes no alert air cadet would; this guy who couldn’t tell Washington from Baltimore was within a few months of navigating to the moon and back.” He did manage to successfully navigate back home and then eventually (thankfully!) from Earth to moon and back. He probably occupies a unqiue place in the universe as the one and only person to be separated, quite literally, from the entire world: “… I disappear behind the moon. … I am it. If a count were taken, the score would be three billion plus two over on the other side of the moon, and one plus God only knows what on this side.” I remarked to my son the other day that the closer I got to the end of this book – with the astronauts getting closer and closer to actually landing on the moon - the longer the book seemed to get. That’s when I realized I was having a little-kid-like “Are we there yet?” moment! As far as adventure goes, I don’t think you can beat going to the moon.

Collins would disagree with me. In the new 1989 version there is a new preface written by Collins: "Today I look back on the moon not so much as a place, but a direction.” He talks at some length about his fascination with Mars and his belief that we need to explore it. “… I don’t think we should establish a time-table for Mars, although it seems to me a human landing could come in the first decade of the twenty-first century…." He also takes a moment to address the 1986 Challenger explosion, defend the aerospace industry, and laments the fact that the space program doesn’t enjoy the “spirit, the mood, the vitality of Apollo” that it once had.
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A few years back I found a list of the best books about spaceflight by astronauts, and this was firmly at the top of the list. It took me a while to actually get around to reading it, but it really is very very good. Collins, who died aged 90 just a few weeks ago, was of course the Command Module Pilot who remained orbiting the Moon while Neil Armstrong and Buzz Aldrin landed on it, and because he was on the far side at the time he was probably the only person in the space programme who did not hear Armstrong's first steps live, even though he was closer to the scene than anyone else. But in a sense that's not the point; the point of the book is how Collins, a modest chap who seems aware of his show more own deficiencies, became part of one of the most audacious technological projects in history.

It's really interesting to see learn how deeply the astronauts themselves were involved in crucial design decisions. Every crew was assigned their modules from quite an early stage, so when they took them into space they would not only be familiar with them, they would actually be using equipment that they themselves had helped to build. And Collins was horribly aware of what could go wrong; orbiting the Moon, he is deeply conscious that he might be going home alone, leaving two colleagues dead or dying on an alien surface. But they make it back.

"The first one through is Buzz, with a big smile on his face. I grab his head, a hand on each temple, and am about to give him a smooch on the forehead, as a parent might greet an errant child; but then, embarrassed, I think better of it and grab his hand, and then Neil’s."

Collins also had some other interesting contributions apart from the flight itself. It was he who actually designed the mission insignia for Apollo 11, the eagle, the olive branch, and the unusual absence of the names of the astronauts, to emphasise the "for all mankind" aspect. He decided at quite an early stage that the firs moon landing would be his last (and second) space flight, went on to do a not terribly happy term at the State Department, and then had a very large hand in setting up the National Air and Space Museum in Washington.

The book is also really really funny in places. His description of the Air Force survival manual had me crying with laughter.

"The manual opens on a cheery note: “Anything that creeps, crawls, swims, or flies is a possible source of food.” Then it gets a bit too specific for my taste. “People eat grasshoppers, hairless caterpillars, wood-boring beetle larvae and pupae, ant eggs, and termites.” Not me, babe! Oh yeah? Read on. “You have probably eaten insects as contaminants in flour, corn meal, rice, beans, fruits, and greens of your daily food, and in stores in general.” No wonder the supermarket has been less crowded lately."

And on the best fitness regime for an astronaut:

"Under these circumstances, how should one prepare his body for space flight? Theories within the astronaut group ran the gamut. Bon vivant Wally Schirra allowed as how the best way to prepare for a restful experience was to rest. Mathematician Neil Armstrong suggested that a person was given only a finite number of heartbeats in this life, and he was not going to hasten his demise by asking his heart to speed up during exercise. In the opposite corner were the jocks, chief among them Ed White, who might begin a typical day by joyfully running three miles and end it with half a dozen games of squash and handball. In between, inconspicuous under the dome of the bell-shaped curve, cowered the majority."

That "cowered" is magnificent, isn't it!

"It was true that as July 18 [his first launch in 1966] drew closer, my thoughts were more and more preoccupied with the flight, but naturally my placid, even temper prevailed, and I recall thinking how grand it was to be able to share my upcoming experience with my family with such composure, equanimity, and good humor. Harking back to this same period, Pat [his wife] says I resented interruptions and was preoccupied, distracted, and totally irritable! God bless her, she waited a couple of years to tell me this[.]"

His wife and family were clearly a key element of keeping him emotionally and psychologically grounded, and it's maybe worth noting that he was the only one of the Apollo 11 crew whose marriage survived the Moon. (There is another hilarious passage when, visiting France, he and Pat are compelled to re-enact their own wedding ceremony in the village where they had originally got hitched several years before.)

Anyway, this was a great read, even if you don't care about spaceflight as much as I do. You can get it here. show less

In Carrying the Fire: An Astronaut’s Journey, Michael Collins describes his work as a test pilot with the Air Force followed by his subsequent work with NASA, where he flew on Gemini 10 and Apollo 11. His work chronicles not just his own life, but also the space program and the myriad twists and turns that eventually led to the Moon. He does all of this with a sense of humor, never taking himself too seriously, and breaking down engineering topics in such a way that readers can easily grasp them. He writes in the introduction, “Of course, Apollo was the god who carried the fiery sun across the sky in a chariot. But beyond that, how would you carry fire? Carefully, that's how, with lots of planning and at considerable risk. It is a show more delicate cargo, as valuable as moon rocks, and the carrier must always be on his toes lest it spill. I carried the fire for six years, and now I would like to tell you about it, simply and directly as a test pilot must, for the trip deserves the telling.” What emerges is his perspective of a massive undertaking that changed his life, but also reframed our view of the universe. His humor and self-deprecating tone easily endear him to his readers while he notes that, as significant an event as the Moon landing is in human history, it was one of many things he’s done in his own life. It does, however, encourage us to refocus our perspective and commit ourselves to inspiring a nation and a world to dream bigger. Narrator David Colacci does an admirable job, though his reading is at times dry. Despite this, he cannot keep the enthusiasm out of his voice whenever Collins directly quotes from the mission recordings. A great astronaut memoir. show less

NASA astronaut Michael Collins trained as an experimental test pilot before venturing into space as a vital member of the Gemini 10 and Apollo 11 missions. In Carrying the Fire, his account of his voyages into space and the years of training that led up to them, Collins reveals the human tensions, the physical realities, and the personal emotions surrounding the early years of the space race. Collins provides readers with an insider's view of the space program and conveys the excitement and wonder of his journey to the moon. As skilled at writing as he is at piloting a spacecraft, Collins explains the clash of personalities at NASA and technical aspects of flight with clear, engaging prose, withholding nothing in his candid assessments show more of fellow astronauts Neil Armstrong, John Glenn, and Buzz Aldrin, and officials within NASA. A fascinating memoir of mankind's greatest journey told in familiar, human terms, Carrying the Fire is by turns thrilling, humorous, and thought-provoking, a unique work by a remarkable man. show less

Michael Collins' 1974 memoir of his career as a test pilot and astronaut, including, of course, his historic journey aboard Apollo 11. I've read a zillion different accounts of this period in the American space program now, and somehow I never, ever get tired of them. Each one seems to offer some new perspective or to tell me a few things I didn't already know, and this book is emphatically no exception. Collins' account is very detailed, with day-by-day and sometimes even hour-by-hour descriptions of his activities on his Gemini and Apollo flights, including his own thoughts and reflections and opinions. Turns out, in addition to all his other accomplishments, he's also a pretty good writer. He manages to be very specific and clear show more about the more technical aspects of the job without either dumbing things down or making the readers' eyes glaze over with facts and figures and acronyms. (Well, except when he's deliberately demonstrating how this stuff can make your eyes glaze over, anyway!) He also possesses a terrific sense of humor, with lots of self-deprecating jokes and amusing asides and entertainingly forthright commentary making this a surprisingly fun read. And his description of his trip to the moon is downright thrilling. Mind you, I always find this particular subject thrilling, but there's nothing quite like a firsthand account. Although ironically, unlike the rest of the species, Collins didn't get to experience humanity's first steps on the moon as they happened; he was on the far side of the moon at the time, and out of communications range.

I think I'd call this one a must-read for the true space enthusiast. Hell, it's unforgivable that it's taken me this long to get around to reading it, especially considering how long it's been sitting on my shelves. show less

Of all of the astronaut memoirs I've read, Carrying the Fire is by far the best. I had the privilege to see Michael Collins give a talk at AirVenture in 2019, and found him to be sincere and modest but also really funny. Those qualities come out in this book. I particularly appreciated his very honest and open discussion of his feelings about not being the smartest or best of the astronauts. It must have been difficult to be in such a macho atmosphere, and I'm sure those types of candid "am I really good enough?" thoughts were difficult to deal with around so many A++++ types.

What I didn't like about this book was the casual sexism and racism. I know this book was written almost 50 years ago. I don't care. Sexism and racism wasn't okay show more then, just as it's not okay now. show less

Of the three crewmen for Apollo 11, which is likely to have the most interesting story? The mission commander, first man to set foot on the moon and subsequently a household name? The co-pilot of the lunar module, cheated of glory by being only the second man to walk on the moon? Or the command module pilot, alone in orbit around the moon while the landing progressed, never setting foot on its surface?

Charles Lindbergh believes the latter, and I am inclined to agree with him.

Carrying the Fire is the story of Michael Collins, the Apollo 11 command module pilot, and his career as a test pilot and astronaut. The book does not suffer the fate of early drudgery that befalls most biography: Collins knows that his childhood and family life are show more of little interest to his readers, so he merely notes that they happened and moves on. This is the tale of his career, the journey of one man through planes and spacecraft and the agencies that build and manage them.

The book is engagingly written and surprisingly introspective. I found the discussions of mission planning to be pretty interesting as well: the amount of forethought put into hazard prevention is astounding, even for one familiar with NASA's legacy of hazard and risk analysis. How do you determine the risks of an unknown yet undoubtedly hostile environment? You get a lot of smart people, do a lot of brainstorming, and be very, very careful. show less