Five o’clock in Washington was 1:00 a.m. in Moscow. The lateness of the hour and the America-centric nature of the event had dissuaded any politicians from traveling from the Kremlin to TsUP. They’d delegated the task to Chelomei, and to the long-serving Soviet ambassador in Washington, Anatoly Dobrynin.
That suited Dobrynin fine. The press blackout meant that only a sanitized version of events would be made public, and even that wouldn’t be released until after splashdown. He’d talked at length via secure phone with Andropov, the KGB head, and had clear direction from Brezhnev. They would create a triumphant way to present this in future. For now, they just needed a few key images and video recordings from the Moon.
And the always necessary calm of diplomacy.
Waiting for Dobrynin in the Oval Office was Henry Kissinger. The two had worked back-channel issues on behalf of their bosses for years together, and today was no different—protect national interests, maintain their deep, respectful friendship and make Nixon and Brezhnev look good.
“Anatoly Fyodorovich,” Kissinger rumbled, his warmth genuine. “It is a pleasure to see you, especially on such an historic occasion.”
Nixon got up from behind his broad, polished desk to greet the ambassador.
Dobrynin bowed his head with respect. “Mr. President, Mr. Kissinger, it is an honor to be invited here today.” He’d been the ambassador since the Cuban Missile Crisis, and his Russian-accented English was flawless. He shook both men’s hands, and Nixon waved him to sit in the gold chair at the corner of his desk. Kissinger took his accustomed place at the other corner.
The Oval Office had a formal, masculine feel. Nixon had hated the pale, limpid drapes that his predecessor, Johnson, had favored, and had replaced them with thick gold brocade curtains that matched his new deep-blue carpeting. Seated again in his black leather chair, he was flanked by US and Presidential flags, with a bust of Lincoln and a large photo of his family on the window table behind him. He preferred a clean desk. All that was in front of him was a neat briefing book, a penholder, his daily calendar and a black phone. One of its small lower buttons was blinking.
As the men chatted comfortably, Haldeman came through a side door, nodded at Dobrynin and walked around behind Nixon. He pushed the blinking button and adjusted the volume on the small speaker box. He’d wheeled a television in earlier, and he turned it on, getting the feed linked through from NASA. The image showed an astronaut standing on the Moon, flanked by the lunar lander on one side and the Stars and Stripes on the other. Haldeman leaned close and spoke in Nixon’s ear, pointing to some writing in the briefing book. Nixon nodded, and Haldeman stepped back.
Kaz’s voice came through the squawk box. “White House and Moscow Mission Control, this is Houston. Stand by for the event.”
Kissinger and Dobrynin shifted in their chairs to be able to see the TV screen.
In Moscow, Chelomei checked his watch.
“Apollo 18, Houston, voice check.”
Chad was facing the camera, his gold visor up so his face was visible, squinting in the bright sunlight. “18 has you loud and clear, Houston.”
Kaz looked at the script the White House had sent. Nixon first.
“Mr. President, the comm is yours.”
Nixon checked his briefing book. “Major Miller, this is President Nixon, your Commander in Chief. I can’t tell you how proud I am, as an American, to be speaking with you, there on the Moon. Especially with the colors of the US flag so clear and bright next to you.”
Chad’s voice was scratchy through all the connections. “Mr. Presi-dent, I am honored by the privilege of speaking with you, sir.”
Nixon continued. “Chad, I know this mission you are commanding has been arduous, and has involved regrettable loss of life. Such is the cost of voyaging into the unknown. The nation and I offer you both our condolences and our gratitude as you work in the name of scientific discovery, and of peace.”
Haldeman had written the words in consultation with Kissinger, knowing the Soviets would be listening.
“I am very pleased that we have found a way to use space exploration not just for technical human understanding, but also now for inter-national cooperation. The world needs symbols of how we can work together, and you and NASA are leading the way. I have some Soviet representatives on the line who are eagerly looking forward to speaking with one of their own, there with you.” He double-checked his script. “On their behalf I invite you now to welcome Senior Lieutenant Gromova, a female cosmonaut, to descend from the American lander onto the surface of the Moon.”