Missiles Take Off From the Sea
by Anatoliy Aleksandrovich Zapolskiy from the series
Podvodnoye Korablestroyeniye. Proshloye, Nastoyashcheye, Budushcheye
("Submarine Building. Past, Present, Future") issue 2, 1994
UDC 623.827.2, 200 copies, 151 pages]Annotation
This book describes creation of a new class of ships--strategic missile submarines, and it is devoted to the direct participants of these events. The author is a regular naval officer, and the operator of the missile launch team that carried out the world's first launching of a ballistic missile from a submarine.Landmarks on the Fairway of a New Course
A scientific and technical conference devoted to events that occurred 35 years in the past, and marked the birth of the lead ship, the flagship of our navy's strategic submarine forces, was held in Leningrad on 1 February 1991. On 16 September 1955, at 1732 in the White Sea, the world's first launching of an R-11FM ballistic missile occurred from the class V-611 submarine "B-67". The safe launching of a guided ballistic missile from a moving platform--which is what a submarine is, and this missile's attainment of a coastal target hundreds of kilometers away in just minutes, confirmed the correctness of all of the basic technical concepts adopted during development, and demonstrated the promise of a new direction in missile and submarine building, and in submarine use. Consequently there are full grounds for treating this event as a revolutionary "landmark" designating the beginning of a new course in the navy's postwar development. Speaking at the anniversary conference and assessing the importance of the pioneer effort that made this celebration possible, Academician S. N. Kovalev said that "it became the basis for creating a strategic submarine fleet; all of the technical concepts that were adopted and the ideology embodied within them remain fundamentally true even today, such that changes that did occur have been associated with technical improvements." The experience of developing an absolutely new weapon and a ship to serve as its vehicle, the positive results of flight tests under an extensive program, and confidence in people able to not only create this equipment in a short time but also master it under naval conditions, permitted adoption of a decision without loss of momentum and continued movement on the new course with the goal of preparing industry to master series manufacture of the new combat equipment, and the navy to adopt it. To attain this goal, plans were made to: test missiles for their reliability in the real conditions of day-to-day operation and combat use of submarines, including transport tests on fueled missiles in submarine launch tubes, and tests on the missile system for blast resistance; designate the head missile enterprises specializing in naval equipment and to master series production of missiles and missile system components; begin construction of a series of five class AV-611 submarines developed on the basis of class V-611; prepare the Northern and Pacific fleets to provide basing for the missile submarines to be commissioned, and for their combat training and intended use. The culminating event in this stage was the launching of series-manufactured missiles in 1958 from each of five finished missile submarines--early in the year in the Northern Fleet and in the fall in the Pacific Fleet. Such was the course of events that "marked" the fairway representing the new course in our fleet's rearmament in the 1950s. The work that was started in 1954 went far beyond the framework initially outlined by the government decree, and it was brought to its logical conclusion on a state scale by creation of the foundation, or the skeleton, of our country's naval nuclear missile shield. Now we could go on and pose the objective of strengthening it.`Blank' Pages of History
For obvious reasons, there were no reports, and all the more so, articles in the open press--nor could there have been--about the events that occurred in the 1950s associated with the birth of the new naval component service--strategic missile submarines. In the beginning, all of the work proceeded under the stamp of "Top Secret, Special Importance." But later on, after 10 years, when this equipment was retired and replaced successively by two new missile systems armed with ballistic missiles, which were naturally improvements over the very first, it didn't seem to make sense to keep silent about the past anymore. As a direct participant of those events--made so by the will of the naval commander-in-chief, I was able to publish two short essays: "The Very First" in 1965 in KRASNAYA ZVEZDA, and "On Ocean Orbit" in 1969 in Leningrad's SMENA. Given the limited possibilities of a newspaper article and the secrecy considerations that still had to be reckoned with, there wasn't much I could write about then. I was very stingy in my mentions of people, especially those who were still working and serving in this area. The leaders and chiefs were generally left unidentified. The censors even made me substitute the term "chief designer" by "missile designer;" this was absurd, because one person obviously can't design an entire missile--this is something that can be done only by many specialists of different profiles, by entire organizations. This was apparently done out of the apprehension that the chief designer mentioned in the essay might be identified with the chief designer, as yet unnamed, who figured into messages from the Baykonur Cosmodrome. What is most interesting--and the editors could hardly have been aware of this back then--was that the chief designer of space rocket systems and the chief designer of the first missile system to be carried by submarines was in fact one and the same person--Sergey Pavlovich Korolev. Such that he was also a pioneer in the area of naval missile building. S. P. Korolev's first role became known to the country and the entire world only after his death in January 1966, from his obituary. But one could get an inkling of his "naval" activity only from the book "Tvorcheskoye naslediye akademika Sergeya Pavlovicha Koroleva" [The Creative Legacy of Academician Sergey Pavlovich Korolev], published in 1980. However, the information it contains about this is so meager that it could be gleaned from the book only by very attentive reading. Thus, one could read on the pages pertaining to work done in 1956 that "...an operational-tactical missile armed with a nuclear warhead and a submarine missile were successfully tested and adopted for operation." There as well, in an account of scientific activity in 1955, USSR Academy of Sciences Corresponding Member S. P. Korolev writes: "1. In the past year, 1995, two projects were successfully completed with positive results.... "4. ... An article concerned with naval issues was partially drafted...." Paragraph 4 confirms that at least one of the projects mentioned in paragraph 1 was naval. It was as yet impossible to make any conclusions regarding Korolev's importance to naval missile building from this brief passage, and all the more so to determine the volume of the work done and evaluate its significance. Similar statements are made in an obituary on Academician N. N. Isanin in the 4 March 1990 edition of LENINGRADSKAYA PRAVDA: "The scientific and technical foundations of creating missile submarines were laid under his guidance in the 1950s. Submarines of which N. N. Isanin was the chief designer were the first to launch ballistic missiles." One could probably already conclude from the cited information sources that if in the same period of time the first of the chief designers worked on ballistic missiles for submarines and the second designed missile submarines from which these missiles were launched, they had to have worked on this project together. And this is exactly how everything really was. But it was still impossible to associate, on the basis of available information, the names of these chief designers with particular models of the menacing naval weapons they were creating. Nor is there anything about this joint pioneering effort of theirs in the museums of the head organizations that developed the missiles and the submarines. A few years ago I had the opportunity to visit S. P. Korolev's home, which is now a museum, established by his mother Mariya Nikolayevna Balanina and his daughter Natalya Sergeyevna Koroleva. Among the numerous exhibits lovingly gathered by them, there is not a single one giving evidence of the naval side of Sergey Pavlovich's work. How did it come about that this work, which was so important and so fundamental to the navy, and to the entire country as well, remain practically unknown? I think that the main reason for this lies in the position Korolev took in this issue. After all tests on the missile and of the missile system in integration with the ship were successfully completed, and after the chief designer persuaded himself that the new project he had started was strong enough to stand on its own, he transferred the naval design work to another group headed by his student, Viktor Petrovich Makeyev. This is precisely why S. P. Korolev didn't emphasize his priority, conceding it to the young. This might also explain why the information contained in the published materials is so meager and so general. My ideas regarding this do not disagree with the opinions stated by B. V. Raushenbakh, who had once served as Korolev's assistant: "Sergey Pavlovich was a person of unusually broad scope.... He generously shared his work with others. One could name several prominent designers who began their careers with him. Sergey Pavlovich was always unusually benevolent toward these people. After handing over one of his projects to them, he never under any circumstances made any mention of his part in them, even when major successes followed. On the contrary he was always repeating the word 'they, they,' and he continued to help them unobtrusively, sometimes even from a distance...." I don't think that illuminating Korolev's role in creating the new weapons for the navy would somehow diminish the contributions of the group that accepted the baton from him, and subsequently created a number of submarine systems of even greater complexity and sophistication. More likely the reverse is true. This group could only take pride in acknowledging the roots from which it sprang, and the person it succeeded. One could understand Korolev's generosity and Makeyev's reluctance to give up the gift of priority that was bestowed upon him. But what would that do for the history of submarine building, and for the history of the navy? By the way, circumstances were such that in the second half of the 1950s there occurred a transfer of command at all levels in the navy having a direct bearing on missile weapons. And as sometimes happens, history started over again, reckoning from zero. Neither Korolev and his group nor naval seamen who participated in the creation, testing and introduction of the weapons and of the first missile submarines in the navy were ever mentioned again. This in my opinion was one other reason why Korolev's part in naval projects fell into oblivion. Consequently both of the events associated with these projects were forgotten, and the names of the people who brought these events into being remained unknown. Several pages in the remarkable history of our navy having to do with the start of the scientific and technical revolution in the navy, which was heralded by the act of arming submarines with ballistic missiles, remained blank. In 1989 I made another attempt to publish materials illuminating the part played in these projects by Korolev and Isanin, as well as other chief designers and their collectives. But in vain. The essay that I sent this time to the journal OGONEK was misplaced, or so the editor's office told me. But a little while later its content was used in its entirety, and without any acknowledgement, in an article by a certain author I know, who for some reason appropriated for himself the right to be the "caretaker" of anything having to do with Korolev. This article was published in a certain academic periodical. I could have said nothing, taking satisfaction in the fact that my goal had been attained: The role played by chief designers Korolev and Isanin in creating the first naval missile system and its submarine vehicle had been demonstrated. Still, the story was distorted with the goal, I think, of "wiping away the fingerprints," and what was most unpleasant was that it was dis- respectfully presented in a vaudeville genre, such that honorable people were portrayed as caricatures. The author obviously borrowed this farcical style from performances of the KVN [not further identified], in which he was a permanent member of the judging committee. I expounded my opinion of this article and of the plagiarism in a letter to him. But I came to understand from the reply that the addressee "had no shame." This incident conclusively persuaded me that if the direct participants of the events do not write the story, hack writers who have connections with the publishing houses (this is important), and who could both distort the truth and hurt people just to make things "interesting," would surely surface.The time has come--or to be more accurate, the time is already slipping away, when the past can and must be recollected by the direct participants of those events. This is something they can do because many years have passed since the time of the described events. The organizations led in their time by Korolev and Isanin haven't been working on submarine missiles for a long time, and therefore we won't be revealing any secrets--today all the more so, in our atmosphere of universal openness. But this is also something they must do because those who are still alive, and remember the past, have very little time left on this Earth. After all, the time clock of life relentlessly ticks off the years of the past, and with the passage of a little more time the mechanism may jam, and the clock will stop. And if we continue to place our hopes on someone else, it may turn out that there will be no one left who remembers anything. While we're still alive, we need to relate the events of distant years, and in this way pay our debt to the memory of those selfless enthusiasts who devoted the best years of their lives to establishing the new fleet. I'm certain that veterans will be capable of filling in the "blank" pages of history. By the way, their silence is one of the indirect reasons why these pages exist. Either they didn't want to reveal their innermost secrets, or they were afraid to appear immodest in mentioning their participation in projects led by the famous chief designers Korolev and Isanin. But they do understand the value of these projects. N. V. Shaskolskiy--the chief of the launch team in the naval weapons test area in 1955, who was unable to attend the anniversary conference due to illness, wrote the following in a letter to the author: "I'm very sorry that I won't be able to make the trip, spend some time with all the people I remember, and reminisce about our intensive, purposeful life of those days, which apparently was ultimately useful to the fatherland, despite everything else."
I dare to begin this venture, and I very much count on the solidarity of those with whom I worked in those distant years, who labored with inspiration in that honorable and triumphant time. My faith in success is inspired by the example of publication of a remarkable book in 1987, "Akademik S. P. Korolev. Uchenyy. Inzhener. Chelovek. Tvorcheskiy portret po vospominaniyam sovremennikov" [Academician S. P. Korolev. The Scientist. The Engineer. The Man. A Creative Portrait Based on Recollections of Contemporaries]. It was written by people who worked with Korolev or who came in contact with him one way or another in scientific, productive, social and even personal matters. There is not a single journalist among them, and in my opinion a book of this kind can only gain from this in truthfulness, sincerity, and in clear and comprehensive description of his personality. In it, everything is taken from life itself, and in it, you find personal impressions of the main character's complex and colorful personality on the backdrop of his characteristic working environment. In my estimation this is the best of all works ever about chief designer S. P. Korolev.
I've now decided to describe what I saw, knew, understood and felt in those days, and to share my thoughts about the past.
My recollections will be devoted to the birth of the missile weapons of submarines, but I think that history is interested not only and not so much in the events per se, as in the role played in them by specific people, their part in making this event come about, in their attitude toward the work, their thoughts, decisions, and acts, and finally, in manifestations of their humanity. It is about them, these great toilers, these heroes of the 1950s, that my story will be told. They all deserve to be remembered, but unfortunately I am forced to limit myself to only those who will fit into my own story one way or another.
I very much hope that veterans who still value the importance of their work and who have something to say will respond to publication of these memories.
`Whence That Which Is Sprung Forth...'
The idea of arming submarines with guided ballistic missiles originated with naval seamen in about 1952.The group that started it all included Engineer-Rear Admiral N. A. Sulimovskiy, Engineer-Captain 2d Rank P. N. Maruta and Engineer-Captain 3d Rank N. P. Prokopenko. This group knew that before submitting a proposal to industry, they had to themselves think out the specific conditions under which the new weapons would be used in combat, and formulate the requirements corresponding to these conditions. But this wasn't enough either. They also had to work out the possible ways of realizing these requirements. The project was joined by B. V. Barsov, V. V. Sheremetev and D. P. Tkachenko, and subsequently by A. A. Bulygin, A. G. Vyzolmirskiy, A. S. Avdonin and other comrades. The results of their work were the first precondition for raising the question before design organizations. The second, though in importance it might also be called the first, was finishing work on the design of the new R-11 army missile at OKB-1 [Special Design Office No 1] of NII-88 [Scientific Research Institute No 88]. This missile had a number of characteristics that met the requirements of missiles launched from submarines.
Armed with their studies and inspired by the advent of a particular model that could serve as a topic of discussion, the naval seamen turned to chief designer S. P. Korolev with a proposal, and asked him to agree to begin working on the naval project.
Assessing the initiative and resourcefulness displayed then by naval seamen in attaining their goal, we can say that figuratively speaking they prepared the beachhead from which a major offensive was subsequently started in all sectors of the problem at hand.
The idea of arming submarines with ballistic missiles was based on the following: Combining the fighting properties of these ships with weapons that were absolutely new to them would not only complement and broaden the combat possibilities of each, but also made it possible to create a totally new class of ships--missile submarines--able to carry out strategic missions heretofore uncharacteristic of submarines.
While in the past, the main mission of submarines armed with torpedoes was to deliver blows against enemy ships and vessels, and to do so they had to come within the range of direct visibility, now with ballistic missiles aboard a possibility arose for also hitting a ground target hundreds and thousands of kilometers away, and with a new missile weapon at that, one with striking power many times greater than previously possible with torpedoes.
In turn, a missile on a submarine acquired a mobile launch pad able to maneuver extensively in the horizontal and vertical planes, and characterized by high speeds, great endurance, and a huge radius of operations. All of this put together promoted covertness, and consequently, lower vulnerability of such a launch pad. The great range of the missile increased the area of possible deployment of missile submarines, which had to make fighting and detecting them more difficult. Chief designer Korolev did of course understand this idea, but he also understood the complexity of realizing it. After all, the conditions of combat use and day-to-day operation of ballistic missiles aboard submarines had nothing in common with conditions on land.
Without going into the details, let me simply single out a few of the problems providing an impression of the complexity of this task.
First of all room had to be found for missile launch tubes with a diameter of the same order as the diameter of the submarine's pressure hull, while at the same time preserving not only the traditional architectural shape but also the performance characteristics inherent to this class of ships.
Next, the missile had to be oriented on a target and launched from a rocking and moving platform. On land, after all, before it was launched a missile was set strictly vertical and oriented toward the target in the horizontal plane with geodetic precision. Inasmuch as the time of a missile attack would be unknown beforehand in combat conditions, the missiles had to be kept constantly ready for launching throughout the entire time of independent navigation. The missile had to be held reliably against the launch stand prior to launching, and then it had to be released the moment the engine was started up so as to preclude destruction of the submarine's telescopic devices and hull structures by the gas jet.
No less important was minimization of the time of prelaunch preparations. And obviously, of course, safety of personnel and the submarine had to be guaranteed during storage of a fueled missile in the launch tube in emergency situations and in combat conditions. It is evident even from this far from complete list of problems that the proposed project went beyond the framework of experimental design work.
However, our enthusiasts didn't come to the project empty-handed. Basing themselves on the preliminary studies, they proposed possible, realistic solutions to these problems.
In addition to the serious technical difficulties, there were obstacles of an ideological nature as well. First of all the military authorities had to be persuaded as to the suitability and possibility of creating a new type of naval armament, of introducing new means of utilizing submarines, and in this connec- tion, of posing new missions. And as we know, new things aren't understood right away by all.
In the book "Vvedeniye v raketnuyu tekhniku" [Introduction to Rocket Engineering] published in 1956, its authors V. I. Fedosyev and G. B. Sinyarev were very cautious in their appraisal of the possibility of using ballistic missiles at sea: "A ballistic missile is a heavy, cumbersome apparatus requiring complex transporting and launching equipment. It would be hard to use such missiles on seagoing vessels as a consequence of this." This book was reviewed by a scientist well known in missile building, and a long associate of S. P. Korolev--Mikhail Klavdiyevich Tikhonravov. Consider that the reference here was to seagoing vessels in general, and not to submarines, aboard which the conditions for using missiles should seem even more unacceptable.
If this was the opinion held by specialists whose knowledge of rocket engineering was based on more than just rumor, what could one expect from those who had no idea about it at all? It is not surprising that skeptics were more than abundant during that time in the military environment. And the fact itself that this was the first time that "technical men" were promoting a strategic mission for the navy evoked a negative reaction at high levels. In short, they were in no hurry to turn on the "green light," and the "yellow" was only glowing dimly, attesting to the indifference of many to this new and unusual idea.
P. N. Maruta, who was then a group chief in the navy's Department 4, recalls that when he visited the top brass, he was often met with a lack of understanding. But being intelligent, forthright and independent, Pavel Nikitich boldly defended his idea to the top brass in both military and industrial departments. He was known for his convictions and his principles, he was respected, and he had access to organizations of these departments. He persistently continued to fight for O.K.'s and signatures for the documents he prepared with one goal in mind--to begin the work of arming submarines with ballistic missiles.
Engineer-Admiral Nikolay Vasilyevich Isachenkov, also a "technical man," who was naval deputy commander-in-chief for ship building and armament, played a noticeable role in the birth of this project. Admiral Lev Anatolyevich Vladimirskiy also provided all possible support. Both met with S. P. Korolev on several occasions.
It should be noted that P. N. Maruta did not sit idly by: He took a most active part in examining the technical issues with S. P. Korolev. In defending his opinion, sometimes he disagreed with him, and even argued with him.
The differences between them involved the possible means of launching. The military proposed an underwater launch with the engine started up in the launch tube. Korolev was afraid that owing to an abrupt rise in pressure and temperature in the launch tube, the missile might disintegrate, and fail to emerge. But P. N. Maruta felt that the process would proceed quickly, and it would not be dangerous, because not only gravity but also the pressure of gases formed in the space beneath the missile would act upon the missile.
An experiment was conducted at the OKB-1 without the participation of seamen: When the engine of a missile secured in a launch tube was started up, it caught fire. P. N. Maruta stated his opinion in this regard to Korolev directly and impartially, without mincing words, which was basically that an incorrectly designed experiment (with the missile secured inside the launch tube) couldn't lead to any other result.
Maruta's anger was quite understandable, because the negative results of this experiment could have cast doubt upon the idea itself of arming submarines with missiles--an idea that was just beginning to achieve recognition. Sergey Pavlovich was true to form in his reaction.
However, Pavel Nikitich, who was a fighter by nature and who was accustomed to receiving blows in the fight for the navy's interests, didn't flinch, and the conflict did not proceed any further. Korolev read Maruta's steadfastness correctly: His opponent's tenaciousness, particularly when he was in the right, was to his liking, and fit with his own style. Relations between them remained normal, without bad feelings.
It is interesting that P. N. Maruta continued to be a single-minded pioneer in the creation of new missile systems even 20 years into the future. It was no accident that Fleet Admiral of the Soviet Union S. G. Gorshkov, the commander-in-chief of the navy, suggested including him in the leadership of ground and ship trials with a ballistic missile that was totally unique in the means of its combat use. This time again, P. N. Maruta revealed his fighting nature, and completed the entire program of two stages of trials with positive and anticipated results.
Sergey Pavlovich could not be persuaded to agree to this work right away, at the first attempt. However, the interest expressed by military seamen and even, if you like, their obsession with the idea, apparently didn't play the last role in this either. These qualities, which were close and understandable to Sergey Pavlovich, had to raise his interest. But of course, most importantly there were the weighty technical arguments they presented.
Vyacheslav Pavlovich Arefyev, one of the pioneers of naval missile building and the general director of the NII KP [not further identified], reminisces: "One must give credit to N. A. Sulimovskiy's remarkable ability to competently and comprehensively present the particulars of using the weapons, and to methodically persuade representatives of industry and the navy at all levels in the realism of what was conceived. It was by watching him in action that I learned how to defend a position. I think that Sulimovskiy's insight and convictions were among the reasons why this 'world premiere' event was accomplished."
Gauging the promise of this new, naval direction in missile building with the gift of scientific prediction inherent to him, Sergey Pavlovich immersed himself in this work actively and aggressively. Now, many years later, it would be nice to know exactly what led Korolev to make such a decision.
There are no grounds for suggesting that the OKB-1 collective needed the work. I think that the order "portfolio" was full, if we consider that the world's first intercontinental missile was tested in summer 1957 and the world's first Earth satellite was launched in fall of the same year. Consequently it is absolutely obvious that in the 3 years prior to these events the design office was very busy, and the additional load of a naval project could be accepted only by "intensifying labor." Even while attending tests in the naval weapons test area Korolev continued to work on the satellite. Once when I visited the chief designer's private rail car, I saw star maps and a star globe there. Meaning that finding work for the collective should be discarded outright as a motive.
Then could it be that the novelty and complexity of the task piqued his interest? Without a doubt! As B. V. Raushenbakh recalled, Korolev very much enjoyed starting new projects. All the more so because a positive solution to this problem would mark the birth of a new branch of Soviet missile building, this time a naval branch, for which Korolev would be laying the foundation. Could one possibly remain indifferent to realizing such a possibility, and not provide the necessary assistance, not to mention personally participating in this?
Nor can we exclude the possibility that in the words of M. K. Tikhonravov, Korolev was "a person who was easily aroused and interested," that he was infected by a desire to solve this extremely difficult problem, one which appeared fantastic to many. But the future difficulties (Korolev was not one to be misled on this account) were justified by the promise of the new technology and its importance to strengthening the state's defense capabilities. And I think no one can doubt that Korolev was a man of the state, and a great patriot of his motherland, who confirmed these traits of his not in words but in daily back-breaking heroic labor.
There is one other circumstance which in my view motivated Korolev to consent to taking on the project. He had developed deep trust in naval seamen, so persuasively did they support his proposals. In their aggregate enthusiasm and a desire to penetrate deeply into the essence of the issue, the seemingly fantastic nature of the idea and presence of specific ways to make it a reality, and persistence and stubbornness in combination with clarity and accuracy, both in statement of the problem and in relations with industrial specialists, had to predispose Sergey Pavlovich toward the naval representatives. My certainty in the existence of this motive is supported by the fact that later on, his respect and liking for seamen, regardless of their official position, were to be manifested on several occasions.
Chief designer S. P. Korolev had become accustomed to working with his faithful associates--control system chief designer Nikolay Alekseyevich Pilyugin and propulsion unit chief designer Aleksey Mikhaylovich Isayev. It can now be asserted quite categorically that this was the first success in the new enterprise, and if I were to be more accurate, I would say that the seamen were simply lucky that the project fell to our best missile designers.
The next success was the consent of TsKB-16 [Central Design Office No 16] chief designer Nikolay Nikitich Isanin to design the submarine to serve as the vehicle for the ballistic missiles. Friends in the design office under his direction said that this work was offered to several chief designers, but apparently the absence of analogues made them doubt the possibility of carrying out such a project in limited time. TsKB-16 department chief V. I. Yefimov recalls that in late 1953 a meeting was held between N. N. Isanin and S. P. Korolev in his office at the OKB-1. Sergey Pavlovich showed the R-11 missile to his guest, and shared his thoughts. Understanding the complexity of the tasks posed to him, N. N. Isanin accepted Korolev's proposal. Such was the way this remarkable union of two chiefs--S. P. Korolev and N. N. Isanin--was formed. Two or three days later Korolev organized an expanded conference, this time attended by N. N. Isanin, N. A. Pilyugin, Ye. G. Rudyak, N. A. Sulimovskiy, P. N. Maruta and representatives of the navy's Main Ship Building Directorate. Sergey Pavlovich brought up and discussed the problems of organizing coordination among the project participants.
The government decree "On Carrying Out Work to Investigate the Possibility of Launching Ballistic Missiles From Submarines and to Design the First Attack Submarines Armed With R-11FM Sea-Launched Ballistic Missiles" was published on 26 January 1954. The project was code-named "Volna" ["Wave"].
Leadership of work on this project was entrusted to TsKB-16 chief designer N. N. Isanin and OKB-1 NII-88 chief designer S. P. Korolev. The organizations participating in the work included the NII-885 (chief designer N. A. Pilyugin), OKB-2 (chief designer A. M. Isayev), NII-49 (director N. A. Charin), MNII-1 [not further identified] (director E. I. Eller), TsKB-34 (chief designer Ye. G. Rudyak) and Plant No 402 (director Ye. P. Yegorov).
In spring 1954, as that same V. I. Yefimov recalls, Korolev arrived in Leningrad. Isanin acquainted him with the results of the first efforts to accommodate the missile aboard a submarine. The leadership and leading specialists of TskB-16 were convened in the conference hall for a meeting with Korolev. Especially memorable in Korolev's speech to the shipbuilders was his statement that "the components of the missile system (the launch tubes, the systems maintaining them, the fire control equipment) were so intimately connected with the structures and systems of the ship itself that our collectives had to work as one in fulfilling this unusual and very important assignment. Only in this way will it be possible to succeed in the enterprise it has begun. In this case constant attention must be turned to deadlines."
I would like to note that in the text of the decree, "creating the first combat submarines" is preceded by the work of "investigating the possibility of launching," from which it follows that at that time, there wasn't complete certainty of easy and fast attainment of the goal. Confidence began growing stronger quickly as subsequent events unfolded.
There is a maneuver in the naval Joint Sailing Rules referred to as "turn together." Such was the maneuver carried out by the organizations concerned with the decree when they turned "together" and raced toward the single goal. Everything proceeded simultaneously: The components of the missile system were designed and tested, the missile submarine was created, a rocking test bed was erected at the terrestrial test range in Kapustin Yar, and the newly organized naval missile test range was fitted out.
In terms of the breadth and pace of the work that was begun, the precision of interaction of the large number of collectives from different departments recruited for this work, and the efficiency with which coordinated decisions were made, everything that happened then could be compared with preparations for a major military operation. All the more so because the role played in it by the military themselves was not a minor one. Personnel of troop units commanded by B. V. Lipatov, N. A. Sulimovskiy, M. A. Rudnitskiy, L. A. Korshunov, V. I. Voznyuk, I. A. Khvorostyanov, N. D. Sergeyev and V. P. Tsvetko took a direct part in the development and acceptance of plans, and in tests on the weapons and ships.
In order to reduce the time it took to complete all of the work, the commonly accepted sequence of development of a ship and its weapons was changed, and individual stages, even ones dependent upon one another, were carried out in parallel. Thus by as early as late 1954, long before flight tests on the R-11FM missile from the terrestrial test bed were started--that is, in the absence of expert confirmation of the possibility of launching this missile from a rocking platform, development of all of the planning documents for the missile submarine were completed, including the blueprints. Refitting of the submarine proceeded practically simultaneously with preparation for and conduct of tests of the missile from the terrestrial test bed. Flight tests of the missile with the submarines were limited to just the trials under the programs of mooring and drydock running tests of the ship. Only these two--the great chiefs S. P. Korolev and N. N. Isanin--could dare to do something like this. The responsibility was colossal. But ultimately by as early as August 1955, just a year and a half after publication of the government decree on the "Volna" project, both the ship and the missile system were ready for joint testing. The R-11FM--The First Sea-Launched Ballistic Missile The starting point from which realization of the idea of arming submarines with ballistic missiles began was, as was already said above, creation of the R-11 missile in S. P. Korolev's OKB-1.
I've been trying to find information about it in the open literature. There is clearly nothing in the TVORCHESKOYE NASLEDIYE. However, I was able to find among its illustrations a missile similar in appearance to the one with which we had to work. The missile's code name is not indicated, and the accompanying text was titled "Long-Term Storage Missile." A somewhat surprising name, but it did essentially have a bearing on the object of my search. After all, our sea-launched missile is also one intended for long-term storage. I read the text: "Creation of the first Soviet long-range ballistic missile stored and transported in fueled state occupied a special place in S. P. Korolev's activ- ity...(the reference is to the 1950s.--A.Z.). The missile, which uses a displacement system to deliver the fuel components, and a propulsion unit designed by A. M. Isayev, became the progenitor of a new, specific direction in missile technology." The naval direction could also be referred to as a specific one, and consequently I continued my search. In the book "Academician S. P. Korolev. The Scientist. The Engineer. The Man" deputy chief designer Doctor of Technical Sciences Sergey Iosifovich Okhapkin (I remember him: short, graying, very energetic, always preoccupied) writes:
"Concurrently the system by which work in our design office was organized allowed us to develop the design of a long-term storage missile. These articles were also created within a short time, they successfully passed the full-scale tests, and then this type of missile was transferred to a specialized design office organized with the assistance of S. P. Korolev."Initially V. P. Makeyev's newly established design office was intended for series production of R-11 missiles. It appeared that my search was on the right track.
And finally, a confirmation by Doctor of Technical Sciences G. S. Vetrov in that same book, "Academician S. P. Korolev....": "Project No 2 foresaw development of long-term storage missiles.... Further work in this direction made it possible to outfit the navy with missiles." There can be no doubt that the illustration was that of the R-11 long-term storage missile, a prototype of the sea-launched R-11FM (both missiles are entirely identical in appearance).
The R-11 missile was designed under the direct leadership of Vasiliy Pavlovich Mishin, assistant chief designer at the OKB-1. The lead designer was Viktor Petrovich Makeyev. The control system was developed by the collective of the NII-885 under the direction of chief designer N. A. Pilyugin, and the propulsion unit was developed by the collective of the OKB-2 under the leadership of chief designer A. M. Isayev.
Two important identification features of this missile provided the grounds for viewing it as the prototype of a missile suited for use aboard submarines: first the new pair of fuel components, and second, its overall dimensions. The R-11 missile used nitric acid as the oxidizer and tonka [translation unknown] or TG-02 (fuel developed by the GIPKh [State Institute of Applied Chemistry]--A.Z.). The pair used previously--liquid oxygen (an oxidizer with a low boiling point) and alcohol (the fuel) require continual drainage and refilling of the tank with volatile oxidizer from the moment the missile was fueled right up to the moment it was launched; consequently reserves of the oxidizer and special equipment were required. It was entirely obvious that this would be impossible to do in a submarine. Nitric acid, which is an oxidizer with a high boiling point, did not evaporate, and after the missile was fueled, it could remain combat ready for a long time without any additional operations associated with the propellant. Hence the name "long-term storage missile."
During modernization of the R-11 missile with the purpose of raising its fire and explosion safety in a submarine, the main fuel, TG-02, was substituted by kerosene, and TG-02 was retained in a very small volume only as a starting fuel that underwent self-ignition when it was combined with nitric acid. The rapid attainment of full thrust by the engine of this missile, which was measured in seconds, dramatically reduced the time of the gas jet's effect upon hull structures and telescopic devices (periscopes, radio and radar antennas etc.) of the ship. Ending the discussion of the fuel, I should note that the fire and explosion safety of the "nitric acid--kerosene" pair was greater than that of the "liquid oxygen-alcohol" pair, and so the former pair was also preferred in relation to this parameter.
Compared to the R-1 missile (differing little from the German FAU-2), given similar values of their range and the weight of the warhead, the R-11 missile looked simply tiny. The launch weights of these missiles differed by almost a factor of three. "The developers," recalls V. P. Finogeyev, "fondly referred to the R-11 missile as the 'pencil'." In fact, this is the association that arises when it is compared with the R-1 missile: It is much thinner, the body diameter is the same along the entire length, and perhaps most characteristically the shape of the nose cone is reminiscent of a sharply pointed draftsman's pencil.
Comparison of the principal parameters of the geophysical modifications of the R-1 and R-11 missiles persuasively demonstrates the progress attained in Soviet missile building:
------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |Characteristics |R-1 |R-11 | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |Length, m |15.0 |10.0 | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |Maximum diameter, m |1.66 |0.88 | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |Fin span, m |3.56 |1.80 | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |Launch weight, tonnes |14.0 |5.0 | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |Maximum vertical altitud-|100.0 |160.0 | |e, km | | | ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |Payload, kg |65.0 |71.5 | -------------------------------------------------------------------------------The fuel employed and the overall dimensions of the R-11 missile made accommodating a ready inventory of missiles aboard a submarine, their safe storage, and maintenance of high combat readiness realistic. Still, however, the missile had to be launched and oriented toward the target in some way.
Using a weapon without surfacing is natural to a submarine. And of course, naval seamen lobbied for underwater launching, all the more so because the experience and information they possessed created a certain confidence in the possibility of such a thing. But the missilemen weren't so optimistic. Complete clarity was lacking in relation to a number of highly important problems that were new to them--ones like starting a missile engine in a launch tube, the missile's emergence from it and its encounter with the oncoming flow around the moving submarine (a submarine must be in motion during launching, since otherwise it would not be controllable), movement of the missile while under water, and others.
On N. A. Sulimovskiy's invitation Korolev visited the naval testing base in Leningrad, where he was given a demonstration of models of missiles launched out of a water-filled and drained launch tube. And although the results of these experiments were positive, the chief designer knew that this was insufficient for a decision on this means of launching. There were no materials of a scientific, technical and experimental sort on this problem in missile building practice. And therefore reaching for the "highest prize" right from the start would have required lengthy scientific research, various experiments and field trials, and consequently, preparation of the corresponding logistical support. A special underwater test bed had to be created. A significant amount of time went to preparing for the tests and conducting them. In the 1970s I was given the opportunity to lead testing conducted with the purpose of perfecting underwater launching. And although this was already the fourth type of missile launched from beneath the water, the problems had not diminished in number, and the tests went slowly and with difficulty.
In those days, negative test results (their probability could not be excluded, given how much was known about the complex hydrodynamic processes accompanying an underwater launch) could lead not only to a longer development time, but also, considering the situation, to abandonment of the project as such. I think that this was precisely the kind of situation chief designer S. P. Korolev feared the most. And so he decided to launch missiles from a surfaced submarine.
As P. N. Maruta recalls, an idea suggested by N. A. Sulimovskiy was laid at the basis of this decision. It essentially entailed the following. Prelaunch preparation of the missile in the launch tube was to begin while the submarine was still beneath the water, after which the submarine would surface, the lid of the launch tube would be swung open, and the launch stand would be raised together with the missile to the upper end of the launch tube. It is from this position that the missile would be released. Then the launch stand would be lowered, the lid of the launch tube would be swung shut, and the submarine would submerge.
It all seemed simple. But as we know, nothing ever comes free. The sea, after all, is a natural phenomenon, and its surface may be disturbed, going as far as storm conditions. Waves will cause a submarine to rock, and the degree of rocking could attain sizable angles.
Considering the negligible occurrence of sea states above 5 points, we set this as the limit for weapon use. Under these conditions rolling of the submarine was anticipated for the tests within 12 degrees, and pitching was limited to 6 degrees.
Thus the conditions for surface launching of a missile were formulated: The submarine is in motion, it is yawing, and it is rocking in the transverse and longitudinal directions. Such that we went from the difficult conditions of an underwater launch to the no less complex conditions of a surface launch. Of course while the conditions of the former could only be hypothesized, those of the latter were fully known, which is what allowed us to begin working on the problem's solution.
Let me recall that when a missile is launched on land, prior to launching it is set strictly vertical and oriented to the target by a pair of its fins (plane I-III). It was in this position that the onboard gyros, which impart stability and support the missile's flight in the active segment of the trajectory in accordance with the program, are set in motion. But how was this to be achieved at sea? In principle, three ways of solving the problem existed theoretically. The first was to stabilize the ship, the second was to stabilize the launcher, and the third was to solve the problem using the control system of the missile system itself. The third way was the most realistic, and so the entire burden of modernizing the R-11 missile was laid upon the shoulders of the control specialists.
As I mentioned earlier, development of the control system was assigned to three organizations--NII-885, NII-49 and MNII-1. N. A. Pilyugin, the chief designer of the head institute, created a small group of young enthusiasts, to whom he entrusted the naval project. Twenty-six-year-old Vladilen Petrovich Finogeyev was put in charge of the group with the rights of an assistant chief designer. R. V. Maleyeva, N. V. Anikin, A. I. Kotlyarov, S. N. Galkina and other comrades toiled with him.
I met Vladilen Petrovich during the tests in 1955, we both participated in the tests in 1956, and then it was not until 35 years later that we met again, now in our sixties. Decades of our lives flew by like a single year. Our meeting occurred on the anniversary of our joint work.
Vladilen Petrovich devoted his entire life to missile design.
He received recognition for his hard, productive work, and for attaining results of state importance--he served as a deputy minister.
He witnessed and experienced many things in his unusually intensive working life, he was able to maintain self-control in critical, stressful situations, and he remained as dynamic and concerned about events as he had been in his youth. Speaking at the conference and recalling his experiences, Vladilen Petrovich had to pause occasionally to contend with his welling emotions. And so while the speech he gave was concrete and laconic, it was also emotional. One could see that the work and the people who took part in it left a deep impression on his soul.
I remember him as young, tall and handsome, dignified in appearance, and easy to communicate with. On his own or with an assistant, he managed to get everything done without bustle. He took part in standard missile tests at the service area and launch site, and aboard the submarine. If suddenly some command would not go through or some equipment would fail, he would find the "bug" and correct it in a short time. He knew the system to perfection.
Vladilen Petrovich honorably represented his firm at conferences and in commissions. In 2 years of testing I never saw N. A. Pilyugin. V. P. Finogeyev enjoyed his complete trust. Let's return to the problem of launching a missile from a rocking platform. A group of specialists from the NII-49 suggested a solution to the problem: Connect the missile rigidly to the ship, such that its position would vary in space in space together with the submarine's. Set the position of the axes of onboard gyros, which communicate with instruments of the submarine's navigation system, when the missile is in prelaunch position. Given this orientation, the missile would leave the submarine at angles corresponding to the latter's position at the instant of separation from the launch stand. Then gas control vanes would adjust the missile to vertical position in response to signals from gyro sensors, and then all subsequent movement in the active segment would proceed according to the program embodied in the apparatus. Significantly modernized Girovertikant and Girogorizont gyroscopes were used as the gyros. A gyro-integrator of longitudinal accelerations operating with a synchronous gyroscope was proposed to control the flying distance. Developed earlier, this instrument successfully passed the entire complex of tests, including in the R-2 missile designed by the OKB-1.
The proposed means of initial orientation of the missile were realized by three collectives: onboard gyros--headed by chief designer V. P. Arefyev; ship computers (coordinate conversion)--headed by chief designer P. M. Zelentsov; submarine movement control instruments--headed by chief designer P. P. Koptyayev. The overall director of the development project was chief designer V. F. Pechurin. Yu. A. Shcherbakov, V. L. Sokolov, M. Tsvetkov, A. Kuntsevich and other comrades took part in different stages of this work.
An encapsulated battery developed by N. S. Lidorenko was used for the first time in the missile. It maintenance-free, and it worked practically instantaneously. This was one other component of the missile that determined the degree of its combat readiness. Since then, the collective headed by Nikolay Stepanovich has attained enormous successes in creating power sources. The solar batteries installed in satellites and spacecraft are the fruits of its labor. I met Nikolay Stepanovich once, in 1962, on Kamchatka, during transportation tests on the missile next in line after the R-11FM. He left the most pleasant impressions as a very modest, communicative and sociable person.
In order to reduce the weight of the onboard apparatus and achieve faster acceleration of the gyro motors, the frequency was increased for the first time from 500 to 1,000 Hz, using a small rotary frequency changer developed by Andronik Gevondovich Iosifyan. Negative feedback from the turning angle of the gas control vanes was also used for the first time to automatically eliminate "zero drift" of the automatic stabilizer.
In general, as a result of introducing all of the innovations the R-11FM missile noticeably surpassed the R-11 missile in its possibilities, and in early spring 1955 flight tests were already under way.
Rocking Bed in Kapustin Yar
In May 1955 a group of naval seamen, testing specialists from the new naval weapons test range currently under development, and members of the crew of the submarine "B-67" from the Northern Fleet arrived at the State Central Test Range in Kapustin Yar together with the submarine commander, F. I. Kozlov, for initial training.I had occasion to visit here later on as well, and I always enjoyed coming to this place. This was a real oasis in the steppes: masonry houses, paved streets, sidewalks shaded by carefully tended trees and shrubs, cleanliness everywhere, few pedestrians during working hours, and everything you need for normal life. The civilized nature of the garrison was emphasized even more by the lack of roads and the dirt beyond it, the clay and wooden ramshackle houses, and the trash-filled yards. All of this was evidence of the order that had existed and was strictly maintained back then, and of concern for everyday life--and ultimately, for people.
Credit for this doubtlessly belongs to the chief of the test range, Lieutenant-General (subsequently Colonel-General) Vasiliy Ivanovich Voznyuk. His household was a hard one to maintain: It was dispersed over tens and hundreds of kilometers from the central square, but his eyes were able to see into all corners, his hands reached into all places, and in everything one could sense his soul, because without it, such a household could not be created or preserved. It was said that Vasiliy Ivanovich once said, half-jokingly and half-seriously: "By the time we get through setting up the test range, the working and living conditions will be so good that only the luckiest will get assigned here, and then only by bribing their way." I don't rule out that this was so.
I should note the exceptionally benevolent and interested attitude displayed toward testing of naval missiles by officers of the State Central Test Range, and primarily its chief, General V. I. Voznyuk--a person who may be called, without exaggeration, legendary. I was able to meet him almost 20 years later, and his attitude toward naval projects remained unchanged. P. N. Maruta, who worked closely at that time with Voznyuk, said that in his youth, Voznyuk had dreamed of becoming a seaman (he was a native of Odessa). The unfulfilled dreams of his youth probably explain his attraction to the sea and his liking of seamen. And you'll have to agree that the latter is an important factor in any enterprise, especially a new one, when this kind of support is necessary.
We were accommodated in area 4a, which is where the service area and launch pad were located. We immediately found ourselves in a kind of unfamiliar world, straight out of H. G. Wells. Ballistic missiles would take off rather often, at any time of the day, from adjacent areas with a thundering roar. And each time we jumped up and ran out to see this spectacle, which was such a novelty to us (I doubt that you could ever grow complacent).
There was a unique test bed, the SM-49, at the launch site in our area, designed around a full-scale submarine launch tube. The launch tube could be rocked by special drives with an amplitude of up to 12 degrees, and vibrated within plus or minus 6 degrees about its longitudinal axis to simulate rolling and pitching of the submarine. A launch stand that could be raised or lowered by means of a hoisting mechanism, and rotated on the launch tube's longitudinal axis, was installed within the tube.
A launcher was installed on the launch stand. It consisted of two retention posts topped by semicircular clamps. When the posts were drawn together the clamps formed a ring hugging the missile. Bosses on the missile body rested against thrust pads on the posts, such that the missile did not come in contact with the launcher. Prior to launching, the lid of the launch tube was swung open, and the launch stand was raised together with the missile to its upper position. The missile was held in place in the launcher, rocking together with the launch tube. When the propulsion unit was started up and the missile began to move, locks holding the semicircular clamps together were activated, an electric signal was transmitted from them to explosive bolts on the lower locks, and the retention posts were spread apart by a powerful spring. Released from the embrace of the launcher, the missile took off. After launching, the posts drew back together in response to a command from the console. The launch stand descended to its lower position, and the lid of the launch tube closed.
The diverging posts and the semicircular clamps sticking up from them made the launcher look like it had horns, which is why it was jokingly referred to as the "horns and hooves." The rocking test bed made it possible not only to check the performance of all standard ship structures of the missile system, but also to recreate the dynamics of prelaunch preparations, and the conditions of launching from a submarine at a sea state of 5 points. It was designed by the joint efforts of the TsKB-16, TsKB-34 and OKB-1. At this point I would like to describe the critical situation that evolved during development of the launcher.
The TsKB-34 was made one of the organizations participating in the "Volna" project at the suggestion of N. A. Sulimovskiy, who worked for many years together with chief designer Ye. G. Rudyak on the design of naval artillery systems as a launcher developer. However, Ye. Rudyak, who couldn't agree to the deadlines suggested by Korolev, refused to work on the launcher. The TSKB-34 had a strong collective of designers, so I don't think it was that they couldn't to the job. It was more likely a personal thing: Rudyak was not used to collaborating, all the more so with Korolev, whose relations with him were strained. As P. N. Maruta recalls, their mutual enmity went as far as insults even at conferences held by GKOT [not further identified] chairman K. N. Rudnev. Rudyak refused to develop the launcher needed for the experiment, without considering that this would slow the whole project down. The TsKB-34's participation in the work led by S. P. Korolev and N. N. Isanin was limited to developing the drives that caused the test bed to roll and pitch, and even so, it used systems created earlier for stabilizing naval artillery mounts.
Given this situation, Korolev decided to have the OKB-1 develop the launcher. Pavel Vasilyevich Novozhilov recalls: "One of the characteristic features of Korolev's leadership style was a fast work pace. The entire collective of scientists, designers, engineers and workers worked under his direction at this pace. When Korolev saw that certain collaborators weren't supporting the needed pace, he would take on certain jobs himself.
"As I remember, it was Spring 1954. It was morning, the start of the work day. I received an urgent summons from the chief designer. Our conversation was brief. In order that experiments could be conducted to reveal new possibilities of a missile launched in the conditions of a rolling sea, a launcher had to be developed and manufactured. When installed in the submarine, it had to hold the missile in place during rolling of the sea, and then release it at the moment of launching. All of the work had to be done in 6 months. This was a new assignment to us. We had no experience in anything like this.
"At first we didn't understand why Sergey Pavlovich agreed to develop and manufacture such equipment--after all, the OKB was already overburdened by difficult assignments. Then we found out that a collaborating organization (the reference here is to the TsKB-34.--A.Z.) refused to carry out the assignment due to the tight schedule. Such a schedule was dictated by the fact that all of the other physical parts of the experiment (the missile and the submarine) could be ready in 6 months. In order not to slacken the pace, Sergey Pavlovich decided to carry out this work in his own OKB.
"We employed an express planning method under which plant process engineers and associates of the supply department worked together with the designers. The manufacturing documents were prepared and deliveries of the needed metal and other materials were provided for simultaneously with drawing up the blueprints. Designers were organized into two shifts in the shops. This joint work by designers, process engineers, supply specialists and workers of the plant's shops made it possible to develop and manufacture the launcher, which demanded such a large labor investment, in record time."
The launchers were installed in place both on the rocking test bed and in the submarine on time, and they showed themselves to be dependable in operation, and easily maintained. And if Korolev had agreed with Rudyak at the time when the schedule was being set up, we would have had to wait a long time for the launchers, and the first of them would not have appeared in submarines of the next class, 629, until 1959. With such a long wait, there was no tell- ing what the fate of the "Volna" project might have been--most likely it would have been scrapped. But chief designer Korolev was cognizant of the interests of the state, and he knew how to surmount barriers, going as far as even doing the work of others in the interests of the cause.
Thus Ye. G. Rudyak, who chose not to pull in the same harness with chief designers S. P. Korolev, N. N. Isanin, N. A. Pilyugin, A. M. Isayev and N. A. Charin, ignored the interests of the fleet.
Nor do I exclude the possibility that this incident was an expression of a conflict between fundamentally different weapon systems: the old--classical artillery, and the new--missiles. And although the missions of the R-11FM missile system were of a totally different scale than those of ship artillery of even the highest caliber, Rudyak's opposition may have had subconscious causes--in any case, he didn't try to assist in the birth of the new weapon, which was an antipode to the old.
Besides the launcher itself, the OKB-1 developed the control equipment--the retention post spreading console. The entire development project was under the direction of Anatoliy Petrovich Abramov and Pavel Vasilyevich Novozhilov.
Completing the description of the launch site, I must say that its equipment outfit included launch preparation and launching equipment developed by the NII-885, and apparatus to orient the missile gyros in space and to input the initial firing data, developed by the NII-49. All of this was housed in an underground bunker in direct proximity to the test bed. The tests were conducted by a state commission staffed by representatives from industrial organizations and the navy. Engineer-Captain 2d Rank N. P. Prokopenko was also on the commission. Technical leadership was provided to the testing by assistant chief designer Leonid Aleksandrovich Voskresenskiy, one of the pioneers of missile engineering, who shared with Sergey Pavlovich all of the difficulties of missile design, beginning with the first Soviet ICBM, and practically until the last year of Korolev's life (Voskresenskiy passed away a month before Sergey Pavlovich).
Here is how he is described by A. I. Ostashev, who worked dozens of years with him: "An extremely cool, decisive person able to take calculated risks. Tactful and attentive to people." Our countrymen saw him for the first time, without knowing yet who this was, in the documentary film "Ten Years of the Space Age." In it, standing at the periscope in the launch site bunker, Voskresenskiy gives the last commands to launch the missile carrying Yuriy Gagarin. Patience, confidence, and a readiness to act, immediately if necessary, could be sensed from the calm voice. The obituary stated that "L. A. Voskresenskiy always distinguished himself by untiring energy and great personal daring in carrying out important experiments." This was the kind of person to whom Korolev en- trusted the job of supervising these unique tests.
The chief of the launch site, Engineer-Major Igor Aleksandrovich Zolotenkov, was a match for L. A. Voskresenskiy. Many at the test range told stories about the daring, life-threatening deeds of both of them. Back then, during preparations for the tests, they decided to see if the missile moved relative to the launch tube as the launch stand was raised while the test bed rocked. Securing themselves by firefighters' safety belts to the guard rail of the bridge at the upper end of the launch tube, they gave the command to activate the drives, and then to raise the launch stand together with the missile. With the two experimenters at the height of a five-story building, the launch tube began rocking, making full swings. The launch stand was raised to its upper position. They saw that the retention posts didn't touch or hit the launch tube. There were no instructions that foresaw such an inspection. But both testers felt that it was needed. There was a risk, but the consequences of jarring the retention posts, which is something they feared, and their opening within the launch tube would be even more dangerous. However, everything ended safely. The apprentice naval launch team was headed by the deputy chief of the ship testing department of the naval weapons test range, Engineer-Captain 3d Rank Nikolay Vladimirovich Shaskolskiy.
The paths traveled through life by Shaskolskiy and me crossed at the Higher Naval Engineering School imeni F. E. Dzerzhinskiy, and then at the Naval Academy of Shipbuilding and Armament imeni A. N. Krylov, but we didn't know each other well. Destiny brought us together in 1955 at the naval test range, when I was appointed to the testing department as the senior testing engineer. A technically competent, erudite officer, Nikolay Vladimirovich was perfectly fluent in German, and later on he also mastered English. He was distinguished by intelligence, high learning, and accuracy, but he didn't act like a know-it-all. He never raised his voice. He knew how to get his subordinates to carry out his instructions without pressure, and how to persuade his superiors that he was right. His arguments were always thoughtful and logical. He knew how to listen and agree with good suggestions, without insisting that his opinions should come first. He was a highly organized, very orderly person.
The first sea-launched missile was launched from a motionless vertically oriented launch tube. The launching was carried out by army missilemen, and we observed from the sidelines. Flames flashed from the burning engine. The missile separated from the launch stand, and at the same instant the retention posts of the launcher spread apart. Gradually gathering speed, the freed missile raced upward looking like a candle burning upside-down. Soon after, it began tilting from the vertical in response to its program, and a short while later the engine cut off. The missile could no longer be seen--all that remained in the sky was the contrail marking its trajectory. We waited impatiently in the field for the launch results. And finally (time passes very slowly for us in such instances) a message came to us that the missile was observed to fall where it was supposed to. We all felt joy--our sea-launched missile could fly.
Then launchings were carried out with the launch tube tilted, and during rocking of the test bed with the launch tube in different positions at the moment of the missile's separation from the launcher. The moment when the missile tilted dangerously owing to the lateral acceleration imparted to it by the rocking was an especially impressive spectacle, but right away the steering equipment countered the perturbation and set it on its programmed trajectory.
There were failed launches for different reasons as well--not many, just two out of 20. The fifth launching, which the naval launch team was allowed to carry out, was such a case. The umbilical through which power was supplied to an explosive bolt had not been connected during preparation of the launcher. As a result, the moment the missile started up, one of the retention posts was slow in drawing back. As the missile ascended its fin brushed the post, and the missile became unstable and fell beside the test bed, some 50 meters from it. The ruptured fuel tanks caught fire, and the missile burned up despite active efforts by firefighters.
I stayed behind in the bunker for a while to reset the launch preparation and launching console, at which I sat as the missile operator.
Suddenly the telephone rang. The operator told me General Voznyuk was on the line. "What happened?" Voznyuk asked. I briefly reported the situation. "Anybody hurt?" "No!" "I'll be right there!" When I left the bunker not more than 15 minutes after this conversation, the test range chief was already at the launch site. Considering the distance he had to drive from the nearest launching area, he must have been flying.S. P. Korolev, V. P. Mishin and Ye. G. Rudyak flew in on the second or third day, followed by I. A. Khvorostyanov, N. A. Sulimovskiy, and other comrades. There were of course reprimands, and inquiries, but we weren't invited to them--I think to spare our feelings.
By chance while I was at the test bed I heard part of an exchange between S. P. Korolev and Ye. G. Rudyak. "Why are you so bothered by this, Sergey Pavlovich?" Rudyak asked, in an effort to calm him down, or perhaps making light of the matter.
"Well, I am bothered!" Sergey Pavlovich replied abruptly, and even irritably--I think that along with me, he also sensed a kind of unfathomable optimism in Rudyak's tone regarding the situation, and an indifference toward the accident. Korolev did in fact have a basis for concern. First, there weren't that many missiles yet, and they weren't cheap. Second, the cause of the accident was outright carelessness, which was something the chief couldn't tolerate. And third, perhaps most importantly, the missile could well have fallen on top of the test bed, and destroyed it. This would have stopped the tests for a long time, and perhaps forever. This would have been a perfect excuse for people who didn't believe in the project. The person to blame for the accident, who suffered great anguish and begged that he be punished, but not barred from work at the launch site, was forgiven. He continued to take part in the tests. He would never make such a mistake again, and you couldn't know what a new person might do. Sergey Pavlovich wasn't harsh in his relations with people, as I was able to persuade myself on several occasions.
Our first meeting with the chief designer occurred during this visit of his to the test range. We sat at the edge of the launch site in a smoking area. Sergey Pavlovich didn't smoke, but apparently upon noticing a naval uniform, which was unusual in these places, he came up to us. He greeted us cheerfully, and sat down. A conversation ensued. He asked who we were, where we were from, and perked up when he learned that there were members of a submarine crew among us. He kept a close watch on us, because naturally he couldn't remain indifferent to those into whose hands he had entrusted his offspring, and he did not conceal the fact. His gaze was steady, he spoke calmly, weightily, but confidentially and benevolently. And this is how he was in fact, although these qualities were concealed behind his stern exterior.
I realize now that this wasn't sternness--more likely it was concentration. Such concentration would be fully natural in a person shouldering the enormous burden of responsibility for an enterprise of priority state importance. He had several experimental design projects under his supervision simultaneously, and all of the work had to be done within the same time interval, which was extremely short at that. Consequently the mission's success depended not only on resolving complex technical problems, but also on the level of organization of the work, on strict observance of the schedule. The Chief was necessarily beside himself whenever a deadline was missed, and he reacted accordingly.
During another launching the engine failed in flight. The missile strayed from the powered section of the trajectory and impacted 10 kilometers or so from the launch site.
Together with my comrades from the OKB-1--lead engineer K. D. Dorokhin and his assistant I. V. Popkov, I headed for the place where the missile should have come down. We drove over a totally featureless, sun-scorched steppe. Eagles were perched on posts holding up the telephone line connecting the phototheodolite stations. They seemed to sense that this was their turf, and they showed absolutely no reaction to our appearance. Mangled parts of missiles that had failed and strayed from their trajectories could be seen all over the place. It was a rather gloomy picture, a real wasteland.
Finally with the help of the operators of one of the stations who had seen the missile come down we found a crater of enormous dimensions formed by explosion of the missile's fuel tanks. Poisonous yellow smoke consisting of nitric acid vapors was still curling about the floor of the crater. We were unable to find anything that could help us to establish the cause of the propulsion unit's failure, but we were visually persuaded of the destructive force contained in the missile, even one carrying just a telemetric nose cone.
Tests on the first sea-launched missile at the State Central Test Range caught the attention of the army's high command. Chief Marshal of Artillery Mitrofan Ivanovich Nedelin, the commander-in-chief of missile forces, visited during one of the launchings.
He appeared at the launch site in the morning, and descended into the bunker. We had been there since evening: The telemetric data from the general missile tests were not being recorded properly. Everyone looked tired, everyone was unshaven. It was raining, and consequently there were people taking shelter in the bunker who weren't part of the missile crew. The operator was sitting at the telemetric console in a poncho, because he had to keep getting up and going topside.
This was the situation that confronted the chief marshal. Not knowing what was happening, he angrily asked: "Is this a gypsy camp, or are we supposed to be launching missiles here?"
However, upon hearing a report on the situation and realizing that everything was going along normally in the testing, and the people looked the way they did because they hadn't left the site for days, M. I. Nedelin relaxed. He began talking with F. I. Kozlov, who was also here at the moment. One detail has stayed with me--the gold watch on the chief marshal's wrist. I remembered this because after the disaster that occurred during preparations to launch one of chief designer M. K. Yangel's missiles at the Baykonur Test Range in 1960, which everyone knows about now, all that we could find of him was his watch. Yes, I would have to admit that missile flight tests have their dangerous side, as also does the tester's profession. Apprenticeship at the test range was a serious learning experience for us. We learned that all kinds of things can happen during tests, from minor, easily correctable failures, to serious accidents. But you must never give up: On the contrary you have to seek the causes of failures, correct them, and move on. People created the equipment, and the equipment shaped the people.
We became acquainted with people at the top of their professions, people you could learn from, and use as an example, knowledgeable, driven, persistent people who were able to keep cool in all situations, and who were easy to communicate with. Among them I would include leading specialists like I. A. Zolotenkov, I. V. Popkov, P. V. Novozhilov, V. P. Finogeyev, V. P. Arefyev, P. M. Zelentsov and Yu. A. Sherbakov.
The program of flight tests on the R-11FM missile using the rocking test bed was completed. The results confirmed that a missile could be launched from a rocking platform, and that under certain rolling and pitching parameters the control system could support aimed fire at maximum angles and angular velocities.
On this basis the state commission concluded that we could now go on to the next stage of flight tests--launching the missiles from a submarine.
Naval seamen who took part in the tests also reached their objective: They mastered the new equipment, and learned how to carry out the entire complex of operations in the service area and launch sites concerned with preparing the missile and launching it.
Some of the developers are still amazed even today by how quickly we mastered the previously unknown technology. As for our success, I can say that it was brought about by sufficiently good theoretical training, and by our persistent desire to come to know this equipment well enough to control it independently a few months later in submarine tests, and to justify the trust with which we were honored.
And of course, another thing that was very important to us was that we, as novices to missiles, received recognition. A funny song to the tune of the "Sormovo Drinking Song" was even composed in celebration of our baptism as missilemen. Our names even made it into the refrain, in which they fit well with its rhythm:
"Shaskolskiy, Zapolskiy, Kozlov, Prokopenko, and with them all of the valiant Northern Fleet."
I'm especially grateful that fate arranged a meeting for me with Ivan Vasilyevich Popkov, the lead designer of OKB-1, who attended the tests. We met in the crater formed by explosion of the impacting missile. This acquaintance subsequently transformed into a friendship lasting many years. Communication in various situations with this remarkable person, a true friend, a fabulous specialist and a selfless patriot to the cause which he served, always imparted strength, and inspired.
Missile Test Range at Sea
The State Central Test Range had now been in existence for almost 10 years, and the first tests on the R-1 ballistic missile had been held there back in 1947. But the naval weapons test range had come into being only in legal terms, in a government decree on its creation, dated 1 November 1954. The newly organized range was to support flight tests of R-11FM missiles launched from a submarine.What made the task difficult was that less than a year was left before testing was to begin, and test range's launch site had to be set up during this time on a marsh, in the tundra, on the unprepared coast of the Northern Marine Theater, all of its services had to be organized, the new equipment had to be studied and mastered, and not just the facility itself but also the testing resources, and the entire organization of flight testing had to be perfected in application to naval conditions. Because time was limited, all of these measures were to be carried out practically simultaneously.
A reconnaissance commission was organized by a directive from the Naval Main Staff in summer 1954 to select the region for missile test launches and for all of the range's launch sites. The membership of the commission included White Sea Naval Flotilla commander Vice-Admiral N. D. Sergeyev (the chairman), P. N. Maruta, V. I. Sorokin, A. G. Vyzolmirskiy, N. V. Shaskolskiy, V. V. Zenkevich, P. M. Makarenko, and other comrades. N. D. Sergeyev allocated all of the needed transportation resources, both naval and air, and listened carefully to the opinions of the specialists. Despite the absence of any procedural directives, as a result of its energetic expeditionary explorations the commission selected and mapped the locations of the range's principal facilities: the service area and the administrative and barracks complex; the water area of the launch site, and the adjacent strip of coastline for installation of observation, measurement and communication resources; the missile impact zone, and stations supporting operation of its services. In its proposals the commission also accounted for the possibility of further development of the test range, which was to be used in subsequent years as well.
The well-organized, productive activity of the reconnaissance commission created pleasant memories for N. D. Sergeyev, and whenever he met P. N. Maruta later on, as the chief of Naval Main Staff and a full admiral, he always invited him over to talk missiles, to have his questions answered first-hand. Now the selected sites of the test range had to be developed.
This work was given over to its command and personnel. In order to have an idea of the volume of the concerns and the measure of responsibility of the command of such a unit, one must understand what a test range is. First of all there are the widely scattered sites and water areas (launch pads, missile impact zones, measuring stations) where the various technical resources and their service personnel are concentrated. Ships and aviation participate in the testing, and their coordination with ground resources must be organized appropriately. Because combat equipment is tested, accidents, disasters and even catastrophes are probable, and they have to be prepared for. There are the enormous amounts of facilities and personnel that have to be cared for. The personnel's work load is typified by an irregular schedule, under which forced inactivity alternates with feverish around-the-clock work. And in these conditions, unconditional fulfillment of the combat training plan and maintenance of the needed level of military discipline and technical knowledge must be ensured.
Testing is associated with technical disputes between industry and the navy, and with finding compromises, though of course not to the detriment of the enterprise. And finally, characteristically the high command, both naval and from defense industry organizations, and members of the government often swoop in on surprise visits. All of these circumstances were complicated to an even greater degree during the time when the test range was being developed jointly with direct preparations for specific tests. It was at such a time that manning of the test range was started.
Hero of the Soviet Union, Captain 2d Rank Ilya Alekseyevich Khvorostyanov was appointed chief of the first naval missile test range of this scale. Possessing a relatively low rank for his new admiral's slot, he treated people of different levels, from seamen and laborers to ministers and the Chairman of the Council of Ministers, the same--with honor but without superciliousness, without groveling before high officials or assuming a fatherly attitude toward his subordinates. He always behaved evenly and calmly, he never went into rages. Because of this relationship to people, he enjoyed authority and respect both "from above" and "from below." The work assigned to Ilya Alekseyevich was new to him, he immersed himself in it and learned it, he heeded the points of view of others, and made the right decisions. In complex situations he didn't panic, he didn't chew people out, and he knew how to keep control of himself, but he was never aloof. He was a strict but just commander, and he commanded confidently, without bustle, without ambition. He took notice of and rewarded the labor of his personnel.
Khvorostyanov looked stern, but he actually had the kindest of souls. I can confirm by his example the known truth that a person's essence is determined by his smile and his laughter. Ilya Alekseyevich's smile was open and kind, and he laughed from the heart, infectiously and loudly. It was easy to work under his command: Respect for oneself as a person and complete trust as a specialist could be felt. This pattern of command behavior naturally trickled down to all of the lower superiors, as a result of which an exceptionally favorable working situation evolved, to the benefit of the enterprise.
This is the sort of person that joined S. P. Korolev and N. N. Isanin in the leadership of flight tests of the R-11FM missile from a submarine. And I feel that this circumstance was also one of the components of the success of our saga.
Running ahead a little, let me say that Khvorostyanov retired from naval service with the rank of vice admiral, always remaining just as approachable and affable as I remember him from spring 1955.
They began erecting wooden panel buildings for our technical and maintenance facilities and barracks, on land wrested from the marshland by invading sand. Equipment of various sorts began arriving in the central area, where the service area and headquarters of the test range were to be located. Officers N. V. Shaskolskiy and V. M. Sharikov successfully handled their role as test range pioneers during this stage, displaying full independence (there was simply no one to turn to anyway).
The work of equipping the coastal part of the launch site and the missile impact zone, which was located in the tundra, began on a broad front in summer 1955. Delivering measuring, observation and communication resources and equipment to detect and fix the points of missile impact and, finally, all of the various everyday equipment and gear to this region involved considerable difficulties, often requiring something of the nature of landing operations, both sea and air. And the life of people in tents, in community with mosquitoes and biting flies, wasn't very appealing. Despite the optimism of the "Robinson Crusoes," the romanticism of life here fell far short of the prose of day-to-day life. There was even a fire once, but it was quickly put out.
Mention should be made of the enormous amount of work done under the direction of the chiefs of the leading subunits of the test range--Fedor Petrovich Sorokin, Vladimir Petrovich Yefremov, Yevgeniy Yefremovich Shurmelev, Vladimir Sergeyevich Vissarionov and Petr Mikhaylovich Zhuravskiy, officers subordinated to them--V. D. Shurubovich, V. Starchenkov, Ye. A. Bykov, B. A. Zolotyakov and A. I. Suslin, the brothers Yan and Vladislav Pyshkin, E. A. Denisenko, V. S. Koshelev, V. I. Lebedev, and many other worthy comrades.
I don't think I'd be making a mistake comparing the naval weapons test range with the State Central Test Range in miniature, only with the addition of the sea, together with all of the complexities it entails.
The Missile Submarine
We returned to our test range by mid-August. Our comrades also wasted no time, and Lieutenant Eduard Aleksandrovich Denisenko, the chief of the search party, had already reported his readiness to observe and fix the points of missile impact, even from the most remote areas of the missile impact zone. Prior to becoming a missileman I served as a mechanical engineer aboard submarines, and naturally the first thing I wanted to do upon my arrival was to see our missile submarine. Standing by the wall, the class V-611 submarine "B-67" differed little from an ordinary submarine--in any case the difference wasn't obvious. The only obvious difference was the higher and longer conning tower enclosure, which also embraced two missile launch tubes emerging from the pressure hull. Their diameter was such that several people could stand simultaneously at their bottom without crowding each other.Despite its impressive size, the missile submarine had an elegant appearance, and the sloping cut of the back of the conning tower enclosure imparted the sensation of speed. Such was my external impression of the ship.
Going below and into compartment IV, I now could see that this was a missile submarine, and everything in it was different. The launch tubes were installed in the diametric plane in the bow section. The instruments and devices were arranged on two decks. Among them were two systems with the beautiful names Saturn and Dolomit. These were the combined directional gyro and artificial horizon, and the computer connected to it and the missile's onboard gyros. And in the missile compartment, a total of six action stations. Cramped, but on the other hand the entire missile system was visible at a glance. Everything was right there: the apparatus, the people, the missiles in their launch tubes, and the ocean beyond.
All of the planning documents having to do with the rebirth of this ship as a missile carrier were drawn up by the TsKB-16. The detail design was developed on the basis of the preliminary specifications drawn up in the Naval Institute of which Engineer-Vice Admiral Leonid Alekseyevich Korshunov was the chief. These preliminary specifications were preceded by sketches made by officers B. F. Vasilyev, V. V. Bashenkov, N. I. Petelin and K. B. Malinin (the son of the well known submarine designer B. M. Malinin), and engineer N. N. Grigoryev. Officers of N. A. Sulimovskiy's institute took an active part in this: P. N. Morozov, N. P. Prokopenko, V. N. Sheremetyev and B. V. Barsov. By the way, all of the listed comrades were mechanical engineers aboard submarines prior to acquisition of their new missile specialty, owing to which total mutual understanding reigned between the submariners and missilemen.
Several approaches to creating a missile submarine that could launch ballistic missiles were examined: building a special floating platform, building a new submarine intended solely to test missiles with the purpose of studying the possibilities for launching them, and refitting a submarine already in the inventory in one of the classes with the largest displacements. The last approach appeared the most preferable, because it allowed solution of problems of testing the missile system in minimum time. The suggestion was to refit one of the series-manufactured postwar large class 611 torpedo submarines. The second important question to which an answer had to be found was how to accommodate the missiles aboard the ship. Several means were studied, to include: horizontal positioning of high-strength launch tubes containing the missiles on the upper deck or along the sides of the ship, in which case the launch tubes would have to be deployed to vertical position prior to missile launch; vertical positioning of high-strength launch tubes along the sides of the submarine's pressure hull, and vertical positioning of the launch tubes behind the conning tower, cutting through the pressure hull in the ship's diametric plane.
V. V. Bashenkov recalls: "In spring 1954 the institute was visited by chief designer S. P. Korolev to examine the preliminary plans for the missile submarine. Simple in manners, he attentively listened to the explanations of the authors of the plans, made his comments; he didn't appear to us as strict and severe as some comrades described him. During the conference Sergey Pavlovich expounded a number of fundamental considerations regarding the particular way in which the missiles and their system components were to be located, and how the missiles were to be stored, serviced, and launched from the ship. As a result of the exchange of opinions the conference participants decided upon the approach of refitting a large class 611 submarine, with two vertical launch tubes cutting through the pressure hull in the diametric plane behind the conning tower." After their approval by the naval commander-in-chief, the preliminary specifications developed on the basis of this approach were adopted by TsKB-16 chief designer N. N. Isanin as his plan of action.
Boris Konstantinovich Razletov, the former chief engineer of the design office directed by Nikolay Nikitich, describes the philosophy and the breadth of the design thought and activity of N. N. Isanin: "Isanin worked on cruisers, heavy cruisers, and battleships, and during the war, on torpedo boats. Later on, beginning in the 1950s, he worked on submarines, primarily missile carriers."
Even from the meager information contained in his obituary one could imagine and assess his role in creating missile submarines. I must say that this was the role of a pioneer, and not only in creation of new ships but also in the birth of new missile systems, because flight tests of the new missiles were carried out with these ships. Consequently all of the technical concepts adopted in the development of the complex system consisting of a submarine and a missile system were checked out in these tests, after which they were introduced into ships of other classes armed with the new missile system. The uniqueness of N. N. Isanin may be illustrated by a story recalled by G. A. Matveyev, former chief of the Central Scientific Research Institute imeni A. N. Krylov: "In 1964 I had the opportunity to visit the Ansaldo firm in Italy. They remembered there that there was a certain young person among the apprentices who came there in 1937 to study the experience of cruiser construction. They had some difficulty recalling his name, and it was only after some consultation among themselves that they arrived at 'Isanin.' There was something about Nikolay Nikitich that caught their attention, considering that they could still remember him almost 30 years later." And that time, the apprentice was only 33 years old.
Nikolay Nikitich was a slender, handsome man. His black hair, sharp nose and dark complexion imparted to him a certain similarity to Nehru. He was active and energetic, and he had a sense of humor. It is said that when he was elected to the academy, as he received congratulations from USSR Academy of Sciences president A. P. Aleksandrov, Nikolay Nikitich asked: "And so what am I supposed to do now?"
"Oh, nothing, just come here when its time and get your money, and that's all!" Anatoliy Petrovich replied, playing along with him.
Nikolay Nikitich came back with: "Do I have to? I've already got so much money I don't know what to do with it!" The detail design was ready by September 1954, and the contractor design was ready by the end of the year. And in the next year and a half a class 611 submarine was refitted as a class V-611 missile submarine ("V" is the first letter of the word "Volna" ["Wave"]). It is difficult to imagine today how they were able to not only draw up all of the planning documents but also refit such a submarine, and fundamentally at that, in such a short time. This was a real act of labor heroism by the collective of Ship Building Plant No 402, headed by its director Yevgeniy Pavlovich Yegorov. The activity of this person, who devoted his whole life to military ship building, is an inspiring example of faithfulness to a chosen path of life.
Having begun in 1933 when still quite young at the ship building plant in Nikolayev as the senior builder of the prototype of a miniature submarine, the M-1, Ye. P. Yegorov was in charge at the time described here of one of the sector's largest enterprises. He led the collective of many thousands competently, strictly, and thoughtfully. He was hard-boiled by nature, and would not tolerate shortcomings. He was feared, although he was never observed to display any kind of petty tyranny. What was astounding was that during working hours, people could rarely be seen outside the shops throughout the enormous territory of the plant through which the local bus passed--all were at their work stations. Order was strict, and the results of the labor collective, which had to work in the difficult conditions of the North in behalf of the country's defense, were impressive. The last time I got to see Yevgeniy Pavlovich was in 1967. He was still just as active, efficient and demanding. He behaved simply, without any kind of pompousness, despite the scale of the production operation and the high assessment the government made of his personal contribution to the enterprise's success.
Such was the person who found himself in the same harness with S. P. Korolev and N. N. Isanin in the 1950s. And of course, this circumstance also went a long way to ensure efficient solution of all of the problems that arose. Yegorov's closest assistant in designing the lead missile submarine was senior ship builder I. S. Bakhtin, a knowledgeable, omnipresent and untiring war veteran. Despite the inflexibility he displayed in his work, Innokenti Stepanovich remains in my memory as a cheerful, kind person.
In the beginning, members of the state commission chaired by N. N. Isanin convened regularly. S. P. Korolev was appointed to act as his deputy and the technical testing supervisor. Referring to this order of subordination, Sergey Pavlovich, who had made friends with Nikolay Nikitich, joked: "I'm just the head--he's the headest of us all!" Test range chief I. A. Khvorostyanov was another deputy chairman.
These persons supervised the testing. While there naturally were differences in the characters of each of them, they were all typified by independence, boldness in making decisions, and demandingness, coupled simultaneously with trust and kindness toward people. All of these qualities predetermined the creative mood of the entire collective, and helped to support the work pace set by chief designer S. P. Korolev back at the very beginning. The fate of the new direction of naval armament depended on the results of the complex and dangerous experiment prepared for by this collective.
To work out the organization of the forthcoming missile launchings and the ship maneuvers in the vicinity of the launch site, and to complete certain inspections under the program of shop performance trials of the ship, a trial trip was planned for the submarine.
On its eve, N. N. Isanin held a meeting of the state commission. After reports were given on the progress of preparations for flight tests, launch team chief N. V. Shaskolskiy acquainted the commission members and persons invited to the meeting with the planning table for coordination of all services, manpower and equipment of the test range and the duty stations of the submarine for the test launch. The very important and, in addition, well prepared document was perceived by everyone as the scenario of a film with an exciting plot and a happy ending, and it evoked lively optimism among those present. I remember how V. P. Finogeyev, who reacted to everything quickly, suggested thanking Shaskolskiy on the spot. Nikolay Nikitich calmed everyone down, saying "there'll be time enough later for all that." He was right, but unfortunately, this "later" didn't come up even to this day.
The test range launch team and representatives of all organizations that developed the missile system participating in the launch test according to the operational bill were to go out to sea.
Because the trial trip was planned for 10 days, Korolev decided to return to Moscow for this period. But he definitely wanted to be there to see the submarine off. I can't remember why, but the departure planned for the morning was postponed a few hours. Because the industrial members of the launch team hadn't yet been put on the submarine's messing list, some of them went to a nearby dining hall for lunch.
It was getting close to the departure time, the entire crew was already aboard, and so was the launch team from the test range. It was at this time that Korolev appeared. Submarine commander F. I. Kozlov reported to him that "the submarine is ready for departure, we're only waiting for your comrades." He was barely able to finish his sentence when the lunch group appeared with I. V. Popkov in the lead. Several of the blue stripes on his tee-shirt were visible beneath his unbuttoned shirt collar, and a naval cap with a crab emblem was perched on his head. If they were late, it was only by a few minutes. The row that ensued! All of the Chief's anger came down upon the leader, while the "followers" took this opportunity to quickly scurry aboard the submarine.
"What would you say if I booted you out of here, and didn't let you ship out with us?!" Korolev burst forth with rage. "You can take the train back to Moscow, for all I care!" I, and probably all who were present at this moment, didn't attach any special importance to the threats of the angry Chief, so no one felt any fear, but angering our beloved and respected patron, and see him so unsettled, was an unpleasant experience. A command was given: "Take your stations, cast off!" The berthing parties busied themselves, and the ladder was retracted. Seeing that the submarine was about to drift away from the wall, a sorrowful, resigned Ivan Vasilyevich asked Korolev for permission to return to the test range.
"What, are you still here? Get aboard!" the Chief ordered, though it was evident that the built-up "steam" had already bleeded down.
Taking a running start, a "forgiven" and joyful I. V. Popkov leaped from the wall to the deck of the submarine and sped toward the conning tower.
Korolev knew how to control himself, to remain composed, and he could keep his cool, especially in acute, extreme situations. But sometimes he blew up over trivial things, without any serious causes that could at all justify his sudden explosions. By the way, later on, after I came to know Sergey Pavlovich better, I believe that he raised this ruckus mainly as a teaching tool--to maintain military order among everyone. The trial trip proceeded normally. The plan of measures was fulfilled. On returning from sea, when in the base area, we conducted Operation Emergency Jettison. For this, a weighted mock-up of a missile with positive buoyancy was loaded into the launch tube prior to going out to sea. The mock-up was raised to the upper end of the launch tube, and the submarine was made to list by filling the ballast tanks on one side. In response to a command from the console to retract the retention posts, the jettisoning mechanism was activated. It raised the mock-up, the posts holding the device spread apart, and the mock-up flew overboard. I mention this to emphasize that everything that could happen in the tests was foreseen. Subsequent events showed that this test was a useful one.
The dress rehearsal had ended. The missile submarine was ready for testing of its main ammunition.
A Ballistic Missile Is Launched From the Sea
The long-awaited moment finally arrived. The missile was loaded into the launch tube, and general tests were conducted. The departure for sea was set for the morning of the following day, 16 September.But no matter how great the desire was to carry out the launch, the technical supervisor cancelled the trip. The sea was calm, and he wanted the launching to occur from a disturbed sea. This was in chief designer S. P. Korolev's style: not to simplify an experiment, but on the contrary to bring its conditions as close to real as possible, and not hurrying unnecessarily, just for appearances. However, toward noon the wind picked up, whitecaps appeared on the sea, and the decision was made to set out for the launch test. The crew was already aboard, the launch team and the participants of the launch test from industry went below. S. P. Korolev and N. N. Isanin were accompanying us out to sea. Those remaining ashore wished us success, agitated and downright envious of their comrades entrusted with the first launching of a missile from a submarine. The tug turned the submarine about, and then the latter sailed away from the base. After a while the submarine submerged to check its trim--a mandatory operation when setting out to sea.
Everyone involved in servicing the missile system was in the missile compartment. All of the developers of the individual systems were here--V. P. Finogeyev, V. P. Arefyev, Yu. A. Shcherbakov, V. Ya. Sokolov, P. M. Zelentsov, P. V. Novozhilov, I. V. Popkov, Ya. S. Knobler, and others. Launch team operators Yu. A. Batayev, A. G. Yushkov and K. M. Abrosimov were at their stations. My place was at the missile preparation and launching console. It had all of the switches and buttons except the main one--the "Launch" button. This button was installed in the submarine's control room, and it was to be pressed by V. P. Finogeyev: His was to be the last action in launching the missile. N. V. Shaskolskiy was in charge of the launch team. This was the first time people were to be so close to a missile as it lifted off. Their backs rested against the launch tube, and by opening a manhole on it, they could easily touch the missile with their hands. Neither a safe distance, nor the protective concrete walls of a bunker, nor any shelters were present here. This was another unique feature of the missile weapons of submarines and the work of their crews. While we all appeared calm, we were of course actually excited, and hopeful that the launching would be successful.
Sergey Pavlovich appeared in the compartment, seated himself sailor-style on a folding chair, and silently drifted into his own world. Today I understand why: He was observing the custom of sitting down before a long journey, before its most difficult and critical leg, during which irreversible processes were to begin. His arrival was deliberate--by his presence he wanted to discharge the situation and release the tension. At the same time, however, we could not allow his silence to lower our guard. The people relaxed, their confidence grew, and consequently the probability of incorrect actions and mistakes decreased.
Many years later, after Korolev's sudden and absurd death, I read that in his youth, Sergey Pavlovich participated in the filming of "The Tripolye Tragedy" as an extra. I had seen this film very long ago, and of course I've forgotten the story, but I still remember the part where Zelenyy's band was crowding the Reds toward the bank of the Dnepr, making short work of them. It was then, as it turns out, that Korolev leaped from the steep Tripolye slope into the water, in order to "earn a little money for books and for English varnish for his glider."
Who knows, perhaps while in the compartment of the submarine as it submerged to check its trim, he remembered how he himself dove into the Dnepr's waters upon leaping from the precipice. What other "dives" and "surfacings" had this unbending person experienced in his life?
Just as we were approaching the test area the submarine was unexpectedly overtaken by a launch carrying naval deputy commander-in-chief Admiral L. A. Vladimirskiy. Being truly concerned for the fate of the fleet, he couldn't remain indifferent to the forthcoming event, and preferred to be with those who were creating and testing the new weapon. The submarine neared the starting point for the prelaunch maneuvers, and assumed its attack course. The prelaunch preparations began 1 hour prior to launch. The first operation, which was an extremely critical one--filling the missile's spherical tank with compressed air--was carried out by lead designer I. V. Popkov and senior engineer Ya. S. Knobler, the developer of the ship's pneumatic system. At 30 minutes prior to launch the alarm signal sounded through the submarine's compartments, and the voice of submarine commander F. I. Kozlov came over the loudspeakers: "General quarters!" Gunnery department commander S. F. Bondin gave the command to turn the launch stand to the firing angle.
Sergey Pavlovich ascended to the conning tower in order to supervise the launch from there. Such direct participation in the launch test was not at all required of the chief designer, but S. P. Korolev himself determined his place and functions. Beside him were F. I. Kozlov and L. A. Vladimirskiy. N. N. Isanin and V. P. Finogeyev were in the control room.
The launch team donned its headphones and established communication among themselves and with "Number One." This was the call sign of the testing technical supervisor, S. P. Korolev. Orders from "Number One" could be heard through the headphones.
Sergey Pavlovich gave his orders sharply, in military fashion. His voice was a little muffled, and his pronunciation of the letter "g" was soft. I noticed this back in our first meetings, but back then I wasn't able to figure out why he spoke like this. It was not until later, after publication of Sergey Pavlovich's biography, that I learned that he spent his childhood and young adult life in Ukraine. The final minutes were ticking off. Power to the missile was turned on. The gyroscopic instruments were started up. The initial firing data were transmitted to the missile. Light signals went on to show that onboard and ship instrument control systems were working in harmony: The missile was oriented on the target.
The submarine neared the launch point. Sergey Pavlovich commanded:
"Five minutes to launch!"
The rack-and-pinion opened, and the lid of the launch tube lifted up. The launch stand and missile rose to their upper position. The missile was above the submarine, and it rocked together with it.
"One minute to launch!"
"Roger, one minute," was the reply from all stations in the missile compartment.
"Ready! Launch!"
The "Launch" button was pushed.
I watched the signal lights as the process went on, and I relayed their interpretation aloud: "We have DU start-up!" (DU is short for propulsion unit), followed by: "Lift-off!"
The missile broke away from the launch stand. This happened at 1732 on 16 September 1955.
Remembering the way thunder penetrated into the underground concrete bunker a rather large distance from the launch pad whenever missile took off, now in the submarine, in the missile compartment right next to the launch tube, everyone expected to hear something similar. We operators weren't too concerned about this, because we were wearing headphones that we borrowed earlier from the boat crew. Still, some of those present decided to plug their ears with cotton just in case: God cares for the careful. However, the predictions and apprehensions were not confirmed. To everyone's surprise we did not hear noise of any intensity, and moreover, it stopped abruptly. The explanation to this phenomenon followed later: The sound disappeared as soon as the gas jet from the engine nozzle stopped impinging upon the submarine.
This "sound" reminds me of a story. A year later Northern Fleet commander Admiral Andrey Trofimovich Chabanenko attended one of the launch tests. We were on our way from the base to the launch area. The admiral and chief designer were talking in the commander's cabin. I approached them to report our readiness to Sergey Pavlovich, and overheard the commander saying: "..., yeah, they told me it sounds like someone banging pots!"
A look of bewilderment appeared on Sergey Pavlovich's face: What was music to his ears--the sound of a starting missile--was given such a prosaic comparison.
It was transmitted from the ship accompanying us that the missile's launch and flight had been normal, and soon after, the missile's impact was observed in the missile impact zone. This was the visible birth of something new. A ballistic missile had been launched from a submarine for the first time. The missile attained a target several hundred kilometers away in just a few minutes.
After the first launch the tests continued in accordance with the program.
Not long before setting out to sea for the first launch test, in preparing for such a noteworthy event the submarine crew repainted all of the pipelines in colors corresponding to their purpose. This initiative had its consequences. As naval deputy commander-in-chief Admiral L. A. Vladimirskiy went topside after returning from launch tests at sea, he got paint on his raincoat. In his gracious way, Sergey Pavlovich tried to rectify the situation using the back of his dark blue gabardine raincoat, but he wasn't entirely successful. The Chief reached the proper conclusion from the incident. Taking account of naval traditions, he departed on the second trip in well-tailored khaki overalls with bunches of lightning bolts on the pockets. Naturally the overalls didn't go unnoticed. On seeing the delight in the eyes of operator Yu. A. Batayev in this new acquisition, Korolev promised on the spot: "After we finish the testing, I'll give it to you!"
Despite being extremely busy, Sergey Pavlovich went out with us for each launch test at sea, and supervised all missile launchings. I think that he did this not because he didn't trust us, but in order to assume direct leadership in a critical situation, should one arise, and to take full responsibility for its outcome. And such cases did occur.
Thus, during prelaunch preparations of the fifth missile, after the "Launch" button was already pressed and the missile's tanks were charged, the launching was automatically cancelled. The faulty missile remained perched on the launcher stand. V. P. Finogeyev shares his impressions of the incident. "An extremely dangerous situation came into being: A fueled missile was rocking above the submarine, what was wrong with it was unknown, and what to do next was unknown. It could of course be dumped overboard straight away. But how could this be done without first trying to analyze the cause of the failure and utilizing all of the possibilities for starting up such an expensive missile? And so Sergey Pavlovich made an extremely risky decision--to go topside and inspect the missile, because he suspected the failure was caused by a bad connection in the umbilical between the missile's onboard control system and the ship equipment. I was summoned to the bridge, and the three of us--Sergey Pavlovich, Fedor Ivanovich and I--made our way over to the missile and inspected everything we could. We discovered nothing out of the ordinary. And although everyone knew how important it was to establish the true cause of the failure so as to exclude its probability in the future, the chief designer ordered:
"'Emergency jettison!'
"Imperturbable Anatoliy Yushkov, the operator at the retention post release console, carried out this order.
"The missile was then jettisoned."
This was not an easy choice to make, but upon weighing all of the pros and cons, the Chief made the only correct decision, the one that would guarantee the safety of the people and the entire ship.
Later on, Captain-Lieutenant Vadim Konstantinovich Korobov, the submarine's executive officer, told me his story: After the missile was jettisoned he ascended to the bridge, which was then occupied by technical supervisor S. P. Korolev, submarine commander F. I. Kozlov, and V. P. Finogeyev. Turning to Korolev, Korobov noted:
"Sergey Pavlovich, you gave the order so calmly, as if jettisoning missiles was second nature to you!"
"What do you mean 'calmly'? The back of my shirt is soaked with sweat!" Korolev replied.
The second unforeseen incident also occurred during prelaunch preparations. This time the pointer on a voltmeter showed that the missile hand been powered up prematurely, before the command to start up the onboard battery was given. This meant that the battery was already on. But when? How long had it been in this state? No one could answer this question, and consequently guarantee that when a load was applied to the battery, the voltage wouldn't fall below normal and a failure wouldn't occur during flight. N. V. Shaskolskiy reported the situation to Sergey Pavlovich. Korolev cancelled the launch test, and we returned to base. The missile had to be unloaded in order to replace the battery. The chief was very displeased (another loss of time), and gave orders to create a commission to clarify the cause of the incident. I was appointed chairman of this commission.
There was one means of starting up the battery--feeding compressed air into it. The pneumatic system had been developed by a very competent specialist who fussed a great deal over every little detail. He checked out this system the day before the submarine left for sea. It was hard to believe that he may have erred, and blown air into the wrong line, but the fact was clearly there to be seen, and miracles don't happen.
Several days passed while the commission studied the possibilities, and wrote out and typed the certificate. During this time the battery in the missile was replaced, and a successful launching was conducted. The issue lost its acuity. The commission's conclusions were rather uncertain because it was unable to establish a clear cause. There was not a single word in the document regarding who might be to blame. I appeared in Sergey Pavlovich's private rail car with this document. It was a sunny day, and it was bright and cozy in the car. A few division chiefs and lead specialists from the design office were sitting there. Everyone was in a good mood. Sergey Pavlovich was wearing a silk shirt and no tie, as if he were at home. I reported that I had brought the commission's certificate for approval. Korolev took the certificate and sat down at his desk. Upon reading it, Sergey Pavlovich turned to me:
"How did the commission come up with such a non-party document?"
"Sergey Pavlovich, what do you mean by 'non-party'?"
"You haven't named the person at fault, and I wanted to punish him!"
By his tone and his use of the past tense for the word "wanted," I realized that his anger had passed.
"But we couldn't establish that he was at fault, and he is an outstanding specialist!"
"All right, I'll approve it!" Korolev answered, and signed the certificate.
I was once again persuaded of his kindness toward people. Having traveled through such brier patches in his odyssey, he didn't grow hard and calloused.
Or here's another incident that occurred during tests in 1956. The submarine was on its attack course. It was less than 15 minutes to launch, the initial firing data had already been transmitted, and the gyros were responding to the commands transmitted from the fire control instruments.
Suddenly one of the industrial representatives, who was first to notice the characteristic odor of insulation burning in a transformer, rushed to the combined directional gyro and artificial horizon to discover that the gyro platform had fallen askew. Consequently the onboard gyros were not oriented, which could cause the missile to fall after it was launched. I immediately reported this to Sergey Pavlovich in the conning tower. After talking it over with the submarine commander he made his decision: "Everything back to normal operation, we're returning to base!"
It was around 1400. I remember the time because I have often recalled this case as an example of the Chief's ability to act effectively.
We returned to base at full speed. We had to hurry because the day was coming to an end, and it was Saturday at that. Sergey Pavlovich quickly went ashore and got in contact with the organization that developed the failed system. A replacement transformer had to be delivered without delay. Despite the fact that it was the end of the work day, and of the week, the transformer was delivered the next morning at 5 o'clock by a special airplane. We carried out two missile launchings on Sunday, 31 October, once again at around 1400. It took just a day to deliver a transformer from another city a thousand kilometers away, install it, check out the system, and carry out the launching. This was an example of excellent organization of testing for all to follow, and an indication of Sergey Pavlovich's enormous authority.
Now, many years later, I tend to think that there was also an emotional factor in Sergey Pavlovich's choice of his site for launching missiles from a submarine. What do I base my hypothesis on? First, what aircraft chief designer hasn't dreamed of launching the product of his work into the air himself? It was precisely here that chief designer S. P. Korolev had such an opportunity. Second, the entire situation reigning aboard a submarine, where tight discipline and order existed side by side with the relative freedom of the personnel, and where orders were carried out sharply and quickly, though without bustle, made an impression upon this highly organized person. Supervising the launching directly from the command post, he probably felt himself to be a member of the ship's crew. And that was essentially the way things were. The chief designer was listed on the ship's bill, you see, as the launching supervisor--that is, he was a member of the ship's combat crew when it came to firing missiles.
Here is one confirmation of my hypothesis. A superior is commonly addressed aboard submarines not by rank but by position: "Comrade Commander!", "Comrade Executive Officer!", "Comrade Brigade Commander!" and so on. Consequently during testing at sea, when we were carrying out operations as the moment of launching approached, I addressed Sergey Pavlovich in similar fashion: "Comrade Chief Designer!".
Later on, I think in 1958, I visited S. P. Korolev at the OKB-1. He received me right away even though State Committee for Defense Engineering chairman K. N. Rudnev was in his office at the time. It was evident that my unexpected appearance awakened the feelings that Sergey Pavlovich has experienced in the submarine's conning tower, and so he introduced me like this: "Meet Comrade Chief Gunner!"
We didn't have such a position either on the standard table or the ship's bill, but during the last tests in 1956 I was the chief of the launch team. That's why he said what he did. By the end of October 1955 all of the tasks foreseen by the testing program had been carried out. In a month and a half, or one might say within the blink of an eye, seven missile launchings were carried out. The tests confirmed the possibilities of launching an aimed fire of missiles from a submarine, the safety of the weapon to the ship and its personnel, and capable operation of all missile systems together with ship systems.
The high pace and the results of the tests were due exclusively to their efficient organization, coordinated interaction among all test range services and the submarine crew, high dependability of the equipment to be tested and the supporting equipment, and of course, the full investment of effort by all participants of the tests.
The swiftness of the tests and their positive results had a decisive significance to confirmation of the prospects of the new direction in naval armament, and of the need for developing this direction further.
On Ocean Orbit
A missile submarine may be compared with a giant two-stage rocket in which the first stage--the launch vehicle--is the ship itself, and the second is the rocket per se. Starting off from its mooring, the launch vehicle inserts itself into ocean orbit, from which the missile may be launched at any moment.During the flight tests we did not go far out to sea, just as far as the launch site, and therefore the time the fueled missile remained in the launch tube did not exceed a day or two. In a real situation this time would increase to the time of the submarine's independent navigation.
In the environment, vibrations from working mechanisms, rocking, concussions by shock waves, and many other factors to which a ship is subjected at sea impinge upon a missile in a submarine launch tube. Under these conditions the missile must maintain its flight characteristics and be safe to the personnel and the entire ship. Transport tests were planned in order to check these qualities out. This was to be the first long cruise by the submarine with fueled missiles in its launch tubes. The participants of the tests were given the task of subjecting the missiles to the maximum impact of factors associated with navigation, to carry out the necessary observations and measurements, and after keeping the missiles in the launch tubes for a prescribed time, launching them. The complexity of the forthcoming experiment lay not only in the absence of experience in carrying it out, but also in the statement of the task itself: On one hand, we had to check out the missiles in the most difficult, extreme conditions, while on the other hand we could not allow an emergency situation to arise. We understood quite clearly what could happen in an accident.
There was also