The Mercury-Redstone (MR) Suborbital Flights: Shepard’s Freedom 7 MR-3

On May 5, 1961, Cmdr. Alan B. Shepard (USN) became the first American in space, piloting Freedom 7 (MR-3) in a successful 15-minute ballistic flight that thrilled the free world—and commanded the attention of recently elected John F. Kennedy, then presiding over the brutal political aftermath of a failed military incursion in communist Cuba (the Bay of Pigs). Shepard’s MR-3 alternate was marine pilot John Glenn.

For Shepard’s flight, NASA ordained that Carpenter and Schirra would fly chase aircraft for fellow naval aviator Shepard—a test-flight tradition. Scott and Wally never saw the launch. In a space-age departure from test flight tradition, Shepard, of course, went straight up, where Carpenter and Schirra were unable to follow, even in their F-102s.

Grissom’s Liberty Bell 7 MR-4

The second American in space was air force pilot Gus Grissom, who on July 21, 1961, repeated Shepard’s suborbital feat in a somewhat modified spacecraft that he christened Liberty Bell 7. It had an explosive side hatch for easy egress after splashdown. Glenn was also Grissom’s alternate for MR-4, in the event Grissom were grounded by accident or illness. The other astronauts assumed various duties, usually serving as capcoms (capsule communicators) for the Mercury communications network girdling the globe. For Grissom’s flight, which duplicated Shepard’s mission, Carpenter served as Life magazine’s inside reporter, eating breakfast with the air force pilot, otherwise assisting with preflight duties preparations, and later describing the events to Life journalists (Time-LIFE publisher Henry Luce had purchased the rights to the personal stories of the astronauts and their wives).

A word about the dangers of spaceflight: Although spaceflight itself is not especially risky, getting into space (the launch) and returning (reentry heating, splashdown, and egress) are rife with danger. NASA sought to limit the dangers of the former with a launch escape system. With the latter, NASA relied on the blunt-body reentry design of the capsule, an ablative heatshield, and intensive training in water egress and recovery operations. The astronauts also spent countless hours in the simulator, training for the likely failure of the automatic controls.

Speaking of dangers, Grissom survived launch and reentry for his historic Mercury mission, only to nearly die after splashdown. His modified hatch accidentally blew out as he awaited the approach of recover craft, taking notes. The ocean swamped the cabin and forced the astronaut out into the Atlantic, with only his spacesuit to keep him afloat.

At first treading water easily, Grissom found his buoyancy disappear in mere minutes. Water pressure outside the suit, coupled with his furious exertions, forced air to leak out at two points in his spacesuit, the neck dam and the suit inlet valve, which the astronaut had inadvertently left open in his haste to exit the spacecraft. There were no pararescue personnel in the water.

Unaware of Grissom’s straits, the primary recovery helicopter pilot focused on Liberty Bell 7, first hooking it to a cable in order to lift it from the waves. To no avail, for the spacecraft was sinking, pulling the chopper and its crew down with it. With the engines first overheating from the effort and then threatening to fail altogether, the pilot cut the capsule loose; it sank in waters 2,800 fathoms deep.1 George Cox, the copilot of the secondary recovery helicopter, arrived just then, threw a horse-collar to the astronaut, then nearly drowning, and winched him aboard the chopper to safety.

Grissom went on to pilot the first Gemini mission in 1965 but died in a launch pad exercise for Apollo 1 on January 27, 1967.