Wally Funk's Race for Space Page 3
She had grown up at altitude in Taos, New Mexico, cycling, hunting and fishing. She was also an expert markswoman, with a Distinguished Rifleman’s award under her belt, and a competitive skier. Earlier that year she had trained for the 1960 US Olympic ski team in Squaw Valley, California, until a back injury put her out of contention. Potentially, there was no doubt she could have the right stuff to become an astronaut. In a letter dated 2 February 1961, when she had just turned twenty-two, Lovelace informed Wally that she was on the list.
Dear Miss Funk,
Examination of potential women astronauts is continuing. We have reviewed the credentials you have sent in and find that you are acceptable for these examinations. Miss Jacqueline Cochran, who has had extensive experience in high altitude, high speed flight and was in charge of the WASP program in World War II, has been kind enough to review the entire program and has made a donation to the Foundation that will take care of the expenses for room and food up to $100 during the approximately six days you would be here. She will serve as special consultant in this program …
Cochran was the record-breaking pilot who founded the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASPs), where female civilian pilots were trained to fly military planes to release the men for combat duty in World War II. Now in her mid-fifties, Cochran was too old to take the tests. Brought up in poverty, working in a cotton mill aged six, she was now married to Floyd Odlum, one of the wealthiest businessmen in America. The couple lived on a vast ranch in California and were generous in their financial assistance for Lovelace’s programme. Wally’s letter continued:
We would like you to plan to arrive in Albuquerque on Sunday, February 26, and report to the Clinic Monday at 8.00 am, without anything to eat, drink, smoke or chew (i.e. gum) after midnight Sunday. You should be through the examinations by Saturday noon.
Lovelace concluded by saying:
Only the names of those that pass the entire examination will be released. It is hoped to have the candidates that pass the examinations meet together late this spring.
A few weeks later Wally headed further west from Oklahoma to her home state of New Mexico. She arrived at her parents’ house in Taos in the red Vauxhall car they had bought for her graduation. As she was under Lovelace’s official age limit, her mother drove them to Albuquerque and signed Wally in, giving written permission for her daughter to take part in the tests. Wally then checked into the Bird of Paradise motel across the street from the clinic in Albuquerque. That evening the clinic collected the first of what would become numerous stool samples ‘in a container provided for that purpose.’ Wally didn’t understand the instruction. She told me that until that point she had thought a stool was something you sat on to milk a cow.
When the Mercury 7 took their astronaut tests they did so as a group and bonded together in the face of extreme physical intrusion and exertion. It was different for the women. They mostly took their tests paired in twos. Wally met the woman who was to be her testing partner at the clinic, and together they began a series of eighty-seven different tests over a period of five and a half days. They would be exactly the same as the Mercury 7 tests, but with additional gynaecological examinations.
Wally’s testing partner dropped out within a few hours. Wally never saw her again and can’t even recall her name. The other seventeen women who completed the week – making nineteen in total including Cobb – all took their tests at different times and, for the most part, no one knew who else was taking them. Two of the women were twins, however, and Wally had told another pilot, Gene Nora Stumbough, to write to Lovelace and offer to take the tests too. The departure of her test partner meant that Wally underwent the rest of the week’s tests by herself. Wally shared her schedule with me.
Day 1, on 27 February 1961, began with nothing to eat, drink or smoke and a stool specimen ‘if not previously collected Sunday evening’. Wally reported to the Laboratory Appointment Desk on the first floor of the clinic’s Lassetter building at 7am. She was then allowed to have breakfast before Master 2-Step tests at 8am. This was an exercise test named after a Dr Arthur Master to assess cardiovascular fitness. Walking on and off some steps would also reveal any hidden heart conditions, since it was feared that space flight might cause the heart to explode.
At 9am, Wally reported to Audiology in the basement for an ear examination, then at 10am it was up to the third floor for cold presser tests. Wally had to place her hand in ice water, at 4 degrees C, for three minutes while a member of the clinic’s staff measured her blood pressure and heart rate every sixty seconds. The same experiment was conducted with her feet. Half an hour later, further tests continued, followed by lunch at noon and a proctoscopic (rectal) examination at 1.30pm. Considering this must have been a shock to a relatively sheltered woman from an all-girls’ private school, she was surprisingly matter-of-fact and dismissive about the intrusive nature of it all, even the tests which required ingesting a radioactive material. ‘We ate barium. We had barium enemas. We had enemas all the time, so no big deal, we knew we had to be tested.’
Sinus x-rays were at 2pm, then further tests at 3pm, and pulmonary function testing in Physiology on the first floor from 3.30 pm onwards. In the evening there were ‘no restrictions on eating, drinking or smoking’, but a stool sample was taken either then or first thing Tuesday morning. This pace continued for the rest of the week. During that time, on her own, Wally did everything she was asked to do. She had also agreed to be stuck with needles here, there and everywhere for constant blood tests and, as instructed, swallowed three feet of rubber hose tube to examine the gastric juices in her stomach. Was it uncomfortable? ‘Oh heavens yes,’ she said. ‘It was kind of a shock. I swallowed so many tubes. And I had so many tubes up me. But I could take it.’
But how did she manage three feet of rubber tubing? ‘You just sat there and went …’ Wally made a loud turkey gobbling noise until her own laughter forced her to stop. ‘… and swallowed it.’
Wally’s gung-ho approach towards being jabbed, prodded, providing non-stop stool samples and being given barium enemas, provided an insight into her strength of mind. During the cycle ergometer test, for instance, electrodes were attached to her body as she rode an exercise bike. These measured her oxygen consumption and lung capacity. ‘They were stuck in our bodies, not the kind that are plastered on today, they were sort of painful. But pain was not a situation with me. I would do anything,’ she said. ‘The clock was right in front of you. It was a psychological factor, I’m sure, and you would pedal to the speed of a metronome. It was ticking, going back and forth, in a room full of doctors and nurses.’
The aim was to cycle until physically exhausted. ‘I wanted to break the barrier on that test and go for eleven minutes because ten was all they expected. It was pretty easy going until nine and a half, ten minutes, so I grit my teeth, closed my eyes and felt my second wind coming and I did it. All the electrodes were taken off me and they said, “Wally. I think we better help you.” And I said, “No, I’m fine” and then I went …’ She clapped her hands loudly. ‘And fell right off.’
The tests pushed both the men and women to their physical limits to ensure that any hidden or unforeseen health issue was identified before a space mission. Bodies would undergo G forces on launch and then the unknown environment of space. These G forces, or G, represent the force acting on a body resulting from acceleration or gravity. We may not feel any such force going about our daily lives on Earth, but our gravity has a force of 1G. A sharp, prolonged acceleration towards space, however, and your body will definitely feel the pressure of increased G forces. Heart rates would race. Blood pressure might rise. ‘We could not afford to overlook any tests that might catch even a minor heart defect,’ wrote Lovelace in the 20 April 1959 edition of Life magazine. ‘There might, for example, be tiny congenital openings between the right and left sides of a candidate’s heart. Normally a man so afflicted might never show a sign of heart trouble, but under extreme circumstances – like sudden decomp
ression at high altitudes – such a defect could mean death.’ The tests therefore covered every aspect of the body including liver function and thyroid efficiency, while daily urine tests checked for the excretion of hormones.
Lovelace described one test as resembling a ducking stool because the astronaut candidate was sat in a chair that was lowered into a tank of water. This gave a measurement of the body’s specific gravity, which could then go on to determine the total amount of body fat.
On Thursday 2 March, Wally reported to Carco Air Service at the Municipal Airport and flew to Los Alamos. She drank radioactive water for a total radiation body count and that evening was instructed to shampoo her hair but not to ‘re-apply any hair dressing until after EEG testing on Friday morning’. This was so that any oil or lotion didn’t interfere with the readings.
Friday started differently. ‘You may eat breakfast.’ After that, it was an electroencephalogram to measure brain activity at 8.30am, more tests until lunch, finishing with tilt-table examinations in the Cardiology department in the afternoon to detect any cardiovascular defects. Wally had seen a picture of Cobb undergoing the tilt table test in Life magazine. Wally’s blood pressure and heart rate were measured every minute as she lay on a table that moved from a horizontal position through to a steep sixty-five degree angle for twenty-five minutes at a time and back again to see if her body could cope with being in this position.
Despite having no one to compete against, Wally not only completed every one of those tests without complaint, she was determined to do her best. Lovelace’s letter to Wally, dated 17 May, revealed that those efforts were rewarded:
Dear Miss Funk,
By sometime in June we hope that all of you that passed the examinations here will be able to go in a group to a service laboratory where further test procedures will be carried out. Just as soon as a definite date is picked, I will let you know immediately. We also hope that funds will be available for your transportation to this service laboratory and your expenses while here.
Meanwhile I would like for you to achieve the best possible physical condition that you can as the forthcoming tests are going to require considerable physical stamina. I would recommend walking, swimming and bicycle riding as well as calisthenics.
I am happy to say that you were one of those that were successful in passing the examination.’
Sincerely yours,
W. Randolph Lovelace II, M.D.
Cobb also wrote to the twelve women who had successfully matched her physical feats on 29 May 1961:
Dear FLAT (fellow lady astronaut trainee)
It is with pleasure that I send my sincere congratulations to you upon passing the astronaut examinations at the Lovelace Foundation.
The US Navy has arranged for us to take a series of tests at their school of Aviation Medicine in Pensacola, Florida. These tests consist of physical fitness, endurance, low pressure chamber, acceleration, clinical examinations, airborne EEG etc. I have just completed these tests and am sure you will find them interesting as well as informative …
It is of utmost importance that you do not mention this to any press.
Cordially,
Jerrie Cobb
Wally’s typewritten reply to Lovelace on 31 May revealed her eagerness to take part and ‘can do’ attitude.
Dear Dr Lovelace,
I was most happy when I received your exciting letter saying that I had passed all the examinations. In fact I immediately started to work on your recommendations for the forthcoming tests as: I ride my bicycle eight miles a day, to and from work; try to prop as many airplanes as needed: callisthenics and running. These tests in the coming [months] mean quite a bit to me to help you out in your research for the program and, in the future, I hope our nation.
She offered to attend meetings, tests or functions
to help the program or to better myself in learning in this magnificent field I am at your command to do so anywhere in the US at any time. As my job can be arranged to be very flexible. If in time that funds would not be available, I would like to help out in my own personal way [sic].
Wally ended by describing a photograph attached to the letter.
Enclosed picture was taken about a month ago when I flew to Shepard AFB to see about a jet orientation ride and also fly an F-86 simulator. I am happy to say that I have just about gotten up to 1,300 flying hours.
The simulator prepared pilots for the f-86, a single-seat Sabre Jet airplane built by the North American Aviation Company. It had proved invaluable against the Russian MiGs during the Korean War. Wally had not only showed initiative in terms of obtaining this experience, even though flying jets was officially denied to women in the military; it was immediately clear that she was prepared to do whatever it took to go all the way and qualify as an astronaut candidate.
This wasn’t Wally’s first time in a jet cockpit, however, simulator or not. She had flown in a T-33 jet at Fort Sill. ‘I had an instructor when I was flying that one,’ she told me. ‘It was fantastic because it was so fast. Taking off and landing it was a faster speed, honey, but control-wise it was just the same. But jets today probably can’t compare as T-33 was a trainer. It flew like a general aviation aircraft, just a little faster. It had more power, it was slicker and I could do my manoeuvres, take-off and landing, a 360, turns, stalls …’
The next phase of testing would be as a group at the US Naval School of Aviation Medicine in Florida, where Wally would finally get to meet the other successful women. They would undergo ten days of physical training, high-altitude chamber tests, experience G forces, get their brain activity measured during jet manoeuvres and practice escaping from a cockpit under water. Cobb took these space-flight simulation tests in May and equalled the scores of experienced Navy pilots.
The twelve successful women were to do the same phase as Cobb, and were due to be tested in July. By this stage, Cobb had been appointed as a part-time special consultant to NASA but retained a key role in Lovelace’s plans. These plans were heavily dependent on funding from Cochran and her husband, but Cochran was unhappy that she’d not been kept informed of the next stage of testing. She made it known to Lovelace that she wanted more involvement and more of a leadership role within the programme. Lovelace hastily rescheduled the tests for when Cochran was free, which meant delaying the women’s tests by several months.
The Western Union telegram to Wally, dated 29 June 1961, read:
Testing has been rescheduled for September by Dr Lovelace. If this is not convenient notify Dr Lovelace or me immediately. Regards Jerrie Cobb.
It was a tactful telegram since it was Cochran, not Lovelace, who had forced the delay. A few weeks later a letter arrived from Lovelace:
July 8, 1961
Dear Miss Funk,
As you know, further tests have been arranged for the girls in the Woman-in-Space program who passed the initial examinations here at the Foundation. Originally these tests were set for July 18. It has been necessary to change the testing date to begin on Monday, September 18.
These tests will be conducted at the US. Naval School of Aviation Medicine at Pensacola, Florida. You should arrive in Pensacola on Sunday, September 17 and plan to spend two weeks there. Further details of the testing are being worked out at present and we will keep you informed as the time draws nearer.
There is to be no publicity whatsoever about these tests or your trip to Pensacola. Any and all news releases will be made only after the testing is completed and then only with the permission of the U.S. Navy and the girls participating in the Program.
For someone like Wally – single and with a job as a flight instructor that she could leave fairly easily – moving the phase two tests in Pensacola, Florida, from July to September was a workable inconvenience. For those women who were married with families and jobs to juggle, however, it was logistically much more difficult. Yet the twelve female candidates made the necessary preparations.
It must have been a delicate balance for
Lovelace to tread, both professionally and privately. He needed the funding and had been friends with the famous Jackie Cochran for over twenty years. Jerrie Cobb had been his first female test success and the embodiment of his medical programme: proof that physiologically there was nothing to stop women becoming astronauts and going into space. But, as a medical scientist, he had to have more test subjects to prove the case that Cobb wasn’t simply a one-off success.
A letter from Lovelace dated 12 July, written just a few days later, revealed that his decision to fit in with Cochran’s schedule had produced the financial reward of further funding from the couple. This was essential because, although the Mercury 7 astronauts did exactly the same tests as the women, theirs had been government-funded via NASA.
Dear Miss Funk,
This is a follow-up of my letter to you of July 8 with respect to the scheduled time for the tests at Pensacola.
Miss Jacqueline Cochran has agreed to provide the funds for transportation to and from Pensacola and the maintenance costs while there for any candidate who needs and desires such financial assistance. She will provide much needed funds through donations to the Lovelace Foundation for Medical Education and Research…
As Miss Cochran will be in Pensacola for a few days during the tests, you can thank her in person.
In case that wasn’t a hint enough, the letter had been copied via Cochran. All letters up until this point insisted on secrecy. This one finished with a prediction as to how the future might unfold for the women.