Astronaut RADM Ken Mattingly, USN passes away
Astronaut and retired two-star admiral Ken Mattingly passed away on Halloween at the age of 87. NASA announced his death on 2 November. For those who came of age during and after the space race, the men of the early American space program will always be heroes and inspirations.
Mattingly earned his naval aviator wings in 1960, flying A-1H Skyraiders and then A-3B Skywarriors. Having witnessed the launch of Gemini 3 while on an aerial reconnaissance mission, he scored a slot in the USAF test pilots school. From there, in 1965 he was part of Astronaut Group 5 selected by NASA.
Mattingly would play a major role in the Apollo program. He served as capsule communicator (CAPCOM) for the landmark Apollo 8 mission (the first to orbit the moon). He was then backup command module pilot (CMP) for Apollo 11, that position ultimately filled by Michael Collins (the primary CMP) for the first manned lunar landing.
Mattingly would join Jim Lovell and Fred Haise as the primary flight crew for Apollo 13. Three days before launching as CMP for that mission, he would be grounded for exposure to German Measles (which he never contracted). He was replaced on the ill-fated flight by Jack Swigert. When the spacecraft exploded mid-flight, nearly killing the crew, Mattingly played a critical role in getting his comrades back home. In the film Apollo 13 he was played by Gary Sinise.
Mattingly finally got to see the moon up close as CMP for Apollo 16. This penultimate moon landing saw Ken remain in lunar orbit while John Young and Charlie Duke went to the surface and gallivanted around in the moon buggy. During the trip back to Earth, Mattingly conducted one of only three deep space extra-vehicular activities ever done (so far).
After Apollo, Mattingly served in administrative roles within NASA until the Space Shuttle Program. He was commander of STS-4, the fourth and final test flight of the shuttle orbiter Columbia in 1982. They were welcomed back to Earth by President and Mrs. Reagan personally.
Mattingly flew once more as spacecraft commander, this time aboard Discovery on STS-51-C. This 1985 mission was the first DoD flight for the shuttle program. After this mission, which brought his total time in space to more than 21 days, he retired from NASA. He retired from the Navy in 1986 as a rear admiral (upper half). He logged more than 7,200 hours in flight, with more than 5,000 of those in jets.
After the Navy, Mattingly went into the defense industry and worked for Grumman, General Dynamics, and Lockheed Martin. He’d married to Elizabeth in 1970, they have one son. Among Mattingly’s awards and decorations are the NASA Distinguished Service Medal (twice), the DoD Distinguished Service Medal, and the Navy Distinguished Service Medal.
Source; NASA
Category: NASA, Navy, We Remember
Great man, Great Life.
Soon the day will come when every American, if not every man, who has ever walked on the moon will be gone.
We have a saying in Maine:
“Take a rocket to Millinocket”
This guy took one to the Moon…more than once.
RIP brave aviator.
My friend from Mattawamkeag mentioned Millinocket. Also looney Lincoln.
Fair skies and following winds forever Sir.
Sad that we’re losing our Astronaut heroes who we looked up to during the heyday of the Space Program when we were kids. Won’t be long, and they’ll all be gone forever.
In addition to the A-1H Skyraider, I see above that the RADM also flew the A-3B Skywarrior. The A-3B was a very heavy aircraft to operate from the aircraft carriers of the time, and by all accounts that I have heard over the years, it was always a “challenge” to safely bring it aboard, and it was very unforgiving of any mistakes. It was known as the “Whale”, and it did not have ejection seats.
The Navy was still handing out operational A-3D Skywarrior slots to brand new Naval Aviators and Naval Flight Officers (NFOs) way back in the day when I went through Flight School. Our Navy brethren Flight School students lived in dread of being selected for the jet pipeline and making it all the way through to getting their Wings of Gold, only to find out then that they were being sent out to the Fleet to fly the “Whale”.
The A-3D carried a crew of three: pilot and bombardier/navigator up in the cockpit, and a Naval Aircrewman back behind the cockpit in the fuselage. (Electronic warfare/reconnaissance versions carried larger crews.) As I mentioned above, the A-3D didn’t have ejection seats, so crews would say that A-3D actually stood for “All Three Dead”.
From what I remember the A-3D guys saying back then, they knew that if they had a problem at low altitude around the boat and couldn’t bail out, they were along for the ride and they were going for a swim whether they liked it or not.
The aircraft had a relatively high mishap rate, and more than a few guys were killed.
One of my flight school classmates ended up in Whales. When our paths crossed later (his detachment on the same carrier as my squadron) the lack of ejection seats came up over a brew or three. He said the guys in the E-3 community said “If whales had ejection seats, there would be no whales.”
Farewell Admiral
Time to ascend into the heavens one last time.
Godspeed, Fare Well, and Soft Landing for your final Launch, Good Sir! A Salute to you for your Service to our Country. “Why do NASA Rockets have to be so big and powerful?” “The lift required to get the payload of those big brass balls into orbit is considerable.”
Or, as Dick Gregory said, “there was only one black astronaut. You didn’t know that? Thought they were all white? No, he’s just looked like that since he found out what he volunteered for!”
Fair winds and following seas, Adm. Mattingly.
Congratulations on a life well-lived.
Rest in peace Sir. God be with your family.
Fair winds and following seas.
Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark!
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark;
For tho’ from out our bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crost the bar.
–Alfred Lord Tennyson
Great man. RIP. One of my favorite roles played by Gary Sinise.
Fly West, sir. Well done.
Fly high, Sir. Words have no way of expressing the vacancy that your departure leaves.