To the Moon: How the Saturn V Inspired Generations
Per aspera ad astra: through hardships to the stars. Nothing better sums up the sight of the Saturn V, its engines rumbling as it embodies the height of human achievement, evolved from its origins in war. The sight of the ghostly pale giant disappearing into the deep sky during the Apollo missions illustrates a feat of collaboration and masterful engineering, the likes of which have not (yet) been quite replicated.
Though mostly known as a shining symbol of American victory, the rocket has a somewhat dubious history. Most obviously, its primary political motivation lay in getting one in over the Russians in the Space Race, and establishing the USA as a space force to be reckoned with. While this undoubtedly worked, President John. F. Kennedy’s lighting of the fuse on getting Americans to the moon by the end of the 1960s sparked a massive nationwide, if not Western-worldwide, fascination with space. Everyone remembers where they were when mankind reached the moon. Remember those hilariously kitschy outfits of the Space Age? The fascination truly captivated every vessel of human inspiration. So, out of petulant nationalism came a pure excitement for what lies beyond our world.
Back to the history of our rocket: apart from a forgivable pissing competition with the Russians, American spooks recruited over 1,500 German supposedly ex Nazi scientists and engineers to work on ballistic missiles and, naturally, rockets, in a secret program known as Operation Paperclip from 1945-1959. Engineer Wernher von Braun had already worked on developing the world’s first long range ballistic missile, the V-2, and shared these ideas with his new American friends. When the Soviets launched Sputnik 1 in 1957, the Americans realized that the Russians could technically replace the satellite on the rocket with a nuke and send it their way. This led to them turning to von Braun in an effort to ramp up their end of developments, and they were rewarded with the Jupiter family of rockets: Saturn’s predecessors. One of those, the Juno I, launched America’s first satellite in 1958.
Next, still with von Braun at the helm, the Saturn series of rockets was born, with the goal of landing humans on the moon. Several rockets of different abilities were designed; at first, NASA planned to carry out a so-called Earth orbit rendezvous (EOR). As its name suggests, it would have involved several launches, the components of which would meet and assemble in Earth’s orbit, and then make their way to the moon. As development carried on, the number of launches needed diminished, and von Braun’s team ultimately decided on a lunar orbit rendezvous, where – you guessed it – the rendezvous of the components would take place by the moon (in the Apollo missions, the lunar module – the one that descends – and the command and service module – the one that stays in orbit – traveled to the moon together). This way, only one launch was needed. Three Saturn models were actually flown: the I, IB, and the famous V. The first two were smaller and less powerful than the V as they were only designed to go as far as Earth’s orbit.
Von Braun, by the way, went on to receive various medals for his achievements, and died in 1977. Quite conveniently for some, ‘his Nazi record was not widely known until after his death’, and his dossier seems to have been lost, strangely enough. Still, while the history leading to the development of the rocket is shocking and something like that would hopefully not fly today (pun intended), it cannot change the fact that the rocket is simply extraordinary. In a way, it exemplifies both the worst and bloodiest, and best and ingenious aspects of humanity; would it not be dishonest to represent our species in any other way than what we are?
Now to the design of the Saturn V, starting from the bottom up (I used this site and infographic for reference):
F-1 Engines
The Saturn V used five of the nothing short of legendary F-1 engines, designed in the mid-1950s by the company Rocketdyne. Bigger than a human (5.79 meters tall, 3.76 meters in diameter), the five of them guzzled 18,143.69 liters of fuel a second. Each engine could produce 1,522,000 pounds of thrust at sea level, and out of the five, four were gimbaled, meaning that they could shift their positions and change the rocket’s trajectory. The propellants it used were Liquid Oxygen (LOX) as the oxidizer (since there is no air in space, and fire needs air to burn, a rocket carries its own ‘air’ in the form of an oxidizer) and RP-1, a refined form of kerosene, or liquid hydrogen (LH2) for fuel.
First stage
Called the S-IC, Saturn V’s first stage had two tanks and could hold 1.2 million liters of LOX and 770,000 liters of fuel; the required LOX to fuel ratio was 2.27:1. The LOX tank was located above the fuel, and had channels that led through the fuel tank so that the oxidizer could reach the engines. It would burn for about 150 seconds (engines capable of 15 seconds more), then detach by means of small explosions at an altitude of about 67 kilometers and fall into the Atlantic Ocean.
J-2 engines
After separation, the second stage’s five J-2 engines would ignite. Not quite as powerful as the F-1s, at 3.4 meters long and 2.1 meters in diameter, they were no dwarves either. Each could produce 109,302 pounds of thrust at sea level, and for propellant, they used LOX as an oxidizer and LH2 for fuel.
Second stage
The second stage of the Saturn V, called S-II, continued the task of its predecessor in getting the vehicle to orbit. It was connected to the first stage by means of an interstage adapter, which was jettisoned (or cast away) soon after separation; this had to be done elegantly so that it did not hit the main vehicle. In the first 9 launches of the rocket, smaller engines known as ullage motors ignited before the big J-2s, which allowed fuel to settle in the new zero-g environment (these were abandoned for the final Apollo missions). In similar configuration to the first stage, the S-II had two stacked fuel tanks for both propellants; 303,000 liters of LOX and 984,000 liters of LH2. The second stage is jettisoned at about 9 minutes, 9 seconds after launch, after a 6-minute burn that brings it close to its orbital velocity.
Third stage
The third stage, called S-IV, consisted of a single J-2 engine and again, the two stacked propellant tanks as above, just on a smaller scale: 73,280 liters of LOX and 252,750 liters of LH2. Interestingly though, this stage burned twice: once for around two and a half minutes after Stage 2 separation, and, after giving the crew some time to prepare, again after two and a half hours of orbiting the Earth to begin trans-lunar injection. Here, it burned for 6 minutes, the capsule almost reaching the speed of Earth’s escape velocity: the velocity needed to overcome the planet’s gravitational influence. To save fuel, escape velocity was not quite reached, and the vehicle used the moon’s gravity to help insert itself into its orbit.
Lunar module and Apollo Spacecraft
Above the third stage sits the Lunar Module: the part that actually lands on the moon. Over that, it’s the Apollo Spacecraft, which houses the three astronauts and is powered by one AJ10 engine. Now comes the tricky part: 40 minutes after the trans-lunar injection maneuver, Apollo separates, turns itself around, and docks with the Lunar Module. 50 minutes later, the third stage is jettisoned.
Escape system
Above the Apollo spacecraft sits only the Launch Escape System: the pointy part on top of the rocket. With it, the Saturn V stood a proud 110.6 meters tall, making it the largest functional rocket to this day. While the escape system is tiny, it would have saved astronauts’ lives in case of a problem with the rocket during launch. Using a mixture of powerful thrusters and clever aerodynamics, it would have lifted the crew compartment away from the dangerous rocket, allowing it to parachute to safety. However, since it was essentially useless after reaching space, it was jettisoned a few seconds after second stage ignition.
In an incredible triumph of physics, this rocket inspired generations. Outright war, brutality, and the (not so) passive aggression that came after it may have been its muse, but it would be an injustice to declare it nothing but a product of its time. The Saturn V is a picture of resilience; born out of war and weapons designed to kill, it is now a symbol of pure, unparalleled technology, courage, and humanity’s urge for exploration – through hardships to the stars. It proved that humankind can do the impossible; keep in mind, the first manned flight occurred in 1903. And today, with more technological resources at hand than ever, it still has not been surpassed.
With some promising developments on the way, such as SpaceX’s fully reusable Starship, we can learn from its forefather and use not political greed, but our species-defining curiosity as reason enough to go further than ever before. Hopefully, we can truthfully represent humanity in a more positive context this time around, overcome our hardships, and reach for the stars once again.