A DREAM WHICH HAS ALMOST COME TRUE

By Eduard Buinovsky

Foreword.

The Gorbachev perestrojka has drastically changed life in Russia. I personally felt those changes when I started receiving letters from all parts of the world with requests to send back my biography or a signed photo. This was quite a surprise for me - even not all of my friends are aware of the "space part" of my life. The flow of letters was increasing. It turned out that there were many people abroad who were really interested in the history of space exploration, in Soviet cosmonauts, even in those that had been trained for space flights but never flown. The most frequently asked questions were: how I was chosen for space training, what was my experience at the training center, what I was doing after I left the cosmonaut team. Finally I decided that it was time to write down my memories of those old days. That's how my autobiography appeared. Part of it was published in a Russian newspaper. The present article about the beginning of my career as a cosmonaut is the first publication in foreign press.

* * *

By profession I am an engineer, expert in rocket navigation systems. In 1960 I started working for a Moscow company headed by N.A. Pilyugin, a close co-worker of Sergej Korolev. Thus I was dealing with rockets and spaceships from the very beginning of my career. I visited the Baikonur launching site a lot, where new types of rockets were tested. The job was fascinating - it required lots of efforts, enthusiasm and energy. There were so many unforgettable meetings, legendary names and historical events!

Here is one of them. I was on one of my numerous trips to Baikonur. Suddenly there came an order from Moscow to participate in the preparation of the rocket that was to take to the orbit a spacecraft with a man on board. First manned flight into space in the history of mankind! I remember in the workshop where the rocket was being prepared for the flight we saw a group of officers wearing brand new uniforms. We knew who they were and that one of them would fly into open space. On April 12, 1961 I was lucky to witness Gagarin's launch. I will not repeat others and tell another story about this historical event. But I'd still like to mention one small episode. Right after the rocket carrier had been launched, all of us headed by Sergej Pavlovich Korolev rushed from the site to the barrack-like building where there was a radio system to provide communication with Gagarin after the ship was taken to the orbit. The room where Korolev talked to Gagarin was fully crowded. So my friends and I went into my room situated in the same building, opened a bottle of "Stolichnaya" and emptied it to celebrate the first manned space flight while the ship with that man had just entered the orbit, and the world had not heard the news yet! I think this is worth mentioning in the Guinness records book - we were the very first to salute Gagarin's flight with a drink.

It so happened that the story about the toast for the first humankinds space flight unexpectedly got its continuation. Exactly two years after the event Yury Gagarin emptied a glass of vodka for my first parachute jump! It happened when our cosmonaut team was undergoing parachute-jumping training in Kirzhach near Moscow. After the training was over, the entire group gathered together to congratulate those who had performed the first jumps in their lives. Gagarin was also present, and of course I told him about “the record” which had never been registered.

* * *

My space career started on a nice summer day - June 9, 1962. I was working in the office when my manager entered the room and said "Eduard, would you like to give it a try in the field of space exploration?" I was 26, young, single, physically fit, full of energy and strength. Those were the times when almost everybody was dreaming of space flights. The whole world knew the names of Gagarin and Titov, the first men on the Earth who had been in the outer space. And all of a sudden they were giving me a chance to join their company, to become part of something mysterious and fascinating, romantic and heroic. Why not give it a try? Of course I said "yes". Though, to be quite frank, I didnt believe that I could be the one out of thousands or even millions of people dreaming of space to be chosen to acquire this new, unknown profession - to become a cosmonaut.

Soon I was called to a clinic for medical check-up. The Military Air Force Clinic was situated in a big gray-stone building in the center of Moscow. There I came to find out the only thing: whether my health was good, and I was fit enough to carry on with further tests and experiments. There were so many candidates, that the doctors were operating like assembly line workers: "Open, close, turn, bent - fit/not fit - Next!" For some "potential heroes" the process was so quick that after thorough examination by several doctors the poor guys found themselves back on the street not fully understanding what happened and why they had not been chosen to be cosmonauts. I was lucky this time and passed all the examinations, though there were several moments when I dreaded that it would be the end of it.

The second stage of the examination was carried out in the Central Scientific and Research Aviation Hospital situated in an old mansion in one of Moscow parks. The hospital was mainly used for conducting routine medical check-ups of jet pilots. Therefore the doctors were highly professional and knew their job very well. But this time they were facing a difficult task - to select people capable of working under the space conditions not knowing specific norms and criteria. The short-term flights by Gagarin and Titov gave too little knowledge to work out an objective methodology for selecting future space pioneers.

Each of us received a sheet of paper with the list of tests and procedures we were to undergo while staying in hospital. I still keep that paper - there were 25 types of examinations listed in it. Some of them were familiar, like surgeon, ophthalmologist, psychologist; others sounded rather mysterious: pressure chamber for "diving", vibrostand, radical speeding centrifuge, etc. Tests like that were routine for professional pilots, but not for us, representatives of other professions. So we were kind of scared of such tests and did not expect a positive outcome. There were also examinations, which seemed to be funny and not serious in the beginning. For instance, you enter a room and see an ordinary swing, like the one they have at children parks. A pretty nurse tells you to sit on it and starts swaying you. It feels good in the beginning - you laugh, joke and tease the nurse. But then after 10, 15, 20 minutes of swinging you forget all your jokes and start looking for a bucket - normally it was there in the corner modestly waiting for its time to come. Then there was another test, which also seemed to be a game in the beginning but in the end we were crawling out of the room literally on all fours. Another attractive-looking nurse tenderly ties you to a table. You lie silently and motionless for about 30-40 minutes. Then suddenly the table spins 45 degrees, and you find yourself suspended head over heels, and continue hanging like this for a long-long time. We jokingly called this test "Gestapo tortures". But being young and strong we somehow managed to survive all the “tortures”.

During the short time I stayed in the hospital I turned into an expert in medicine! I knew exactly why the numerous blood tests were taken, when it was better to undergo a certain examination - in the morning or in the evening, what products I should eat and what to avoid in order to get positive results. Every day we raced from one examination room to another, had our sheets of paper filled in with tests results, told each other about our feelings and experience, and even found time for joking and friendly teasing. Medical selection board was the only part of that long, hard way towards space glory, when the relations between the applicants were even and friendly, without envy and intrigues against each other. At least I didn't perceive my roommates as competitors standing in my way. All of us were glad to see somebody's success and sincerely sad when somebody had to leave us.

I was among the lucky ones who stayed till the very end. The second stage of the selection was over. Then we were told "Wait!” The waiting period lasted for about two months. It was so difficult and tiresome - to wait while your fate was being decided somewhere. In order not to miss the crucial call I tried to be close to the phone all the time. I even forgot all my dates with the girls and rushed straight home after work. Finally on January 8, 1963 I faced the Mandate Commission headed by General Kamanin, cosmonaut corps commander. I answered several questions and then heard the verdict: "Senior lieutenant Buinovsky, you are enlisted in the cosmonaut detachment of the Air Forces!" Should I describe what I went through and the storm of emotions I felt when I left the room where the Commission had its sitting? This was one of the brightest, unforgettable moments of my life.

On January 25, 1963 we - Vitaly Zholobov and myself (we became friends in the hospital) - arrived at the mysterious Center for Cosmonauts Training. At that time there was no Zvezdny Gorodok, just a few 2-3-storey buildings in a wonderful pine tree forest. We joined the team of other newcomers, all in all there were 15 of us. In fact, ours was the third team in the detachment; Gagarin's was the first one, then the group of girls, and then us. But our detachment was a unique one - for the first time it was decided to incorporate aviation engineers and representatives of the rocket forces (engineers included) into the training program. So our "international" team consisted of seven engineers (Lev Demin, Yury Artyukhin, Vitaly Zholobov, Eduard Kugno, Vladislav Gulyaev, Petr Kolodin, and myself) and eight pilots - Georgy Dobrovolsky, Vladimir Shatalov, Aleksej Gubarev, Anatoly Philipchenko, Anatoly Voronov, Aleksandr Matinchenko, Anatoly Kuklin, and Lev Vorobjev. I am aware that today only a few of the above names sound familiar to the general public - not all of us managed to complete the training. And only seven of those who did were lucky to participate in space missions. But at that time, almost forty years ago, we were just a group of 15 young men selected to become heroes.

The hotel we were to live in had a small, cozy canteen where we got acquainted with the guys from the first team. The girls, lead by Valentina Tereshkova, were actively playing the roles of mediators. Later on, at dinner, in an easy, almost family atmosphere we met the four heroes - Yury Gagarin, German Titov, Andrian Nikolaev, and Pavel Popovich. My dream was about to come true - I was to become a cosmonaut and fly into space!

And then came the days of hard work, studying and training for a space flight. For me it was the beginning of a new life, full of new emotions, new meetings, and new ordeals - both physical and moral. It was hard, but fascinating at the same time - every day brought something unusual, something Id never experienced before. I never thought I would make tricks like “dead loop” and “barrel” on a MIG-15 jet or fly a slow IL-14 over the forests near Moscow (under an instructors control though but still). And parachute jumps, and other special training - all this is worth another story to tell.

Thirty-five years have passed, but my recollections of those days are still vivid and bright. These are the memories I keep and cherish, and share with my children and grandchildren.

To be continued.