Bruce beamed moon landing to the world

In preparing to celebrate the event, Forster鈥檚 Bruce Ekert, who worked at the Honeysuckle Creek transmission station near Canberra at the time of the landing, has reflected on the role Australians played in bringing the historical moment into living rooms across the globe.

Video operator, Ed von Renouard, seated at the console of the Apollo 11 TV scan-converter at Honeysuckle Creek tracking station in July 1969.

IT was 1969, and a moment by which humanity would come to measure itself flickered from a wall of monitors before Bruce Ekert鈥檚 eyes.

As Neil Armstrong stepped from the lunar module Bruce, 23, prayed that the signal beaming the pictures to earth wouldn鈥檛 fail. It was his job, at the Honeysuckle Creek transmission station near Canberra, to make sure it didn鈥檛.

鈥淲e were told not to touch anything,鈥?he said, 鈥渦nless it stopped working. Sort of an 鈥榠f it ain鈥檛 broke, don鈥檛 fix it鈥?approach. So we sat there drinking tea, just hoping nothing would go wrong.鈥?/p>

Now Bruce, his face filled with computer glare, is scrolling through a web page in his Forster flat.

鈥淭here he is,鈥?he says, swivelling in his seat. On the screen is a black-and-white photo of a man in thick glasses glued to a monitor.

鈥淭hat鈥檚 the moment the first person on Earth saw pictures of the landing. His name鈥檚 Ed von Renouard.鈥?/p>

Bruce, a couple of rooms across, absorbed the same vision a split-second later. Doesn鈥檛 it follow, then, that he was among the first dozen or so witnesses of the moon landing?

鈥淵eah, I would鈥檝e been in about the first 20,鈥?he says.

Monday is the 40th anniversary of the day Armstrong and Apollo 11 crewmates Buzz Aldrin and Michael Collins became the most famous men on Earth.

NASA had decided at the last minute it would be worth the cost of sending cameras to capture it, and more than six hundred million huddled around TVs and radios to hear the first words crackle from another world.

Armstrong鈥檚 鈥淥ne small step for a man, one giant leap for mankind鈥?was scripted. Aldrin鈥檚 description of 鈥淢agnificent desolation鈥?was his own.

But, days earlier, NASA hit a snag.

鈥淭hey realised that, at the time of the landing, the moon would be on our side of the Earth,鈥?Bruce says.

鈥淎merica would be out of communications. So they looked for tracking stations that could pick it up. There was one at Parkes, and one at Honeysuckle.鈥?/p>

It鈥檚 worth noting that the Parkes station, romanticised in Rob Sitch鈥檚 comedy The Dish, was never actually the sole link to the mission. There was always additional contact through Honeysuckle and Goldstone, California. But Parkes was in a position, at one point, to provide the best signal, thus briefly becoming the focal point of the broadcast.

Bruce and three other technicians had set up a microwave link between Honeysuckle, the Apollo 11 spacecraft and mission control.

It would be wrong to say a failure of Bruce鈥檚 monitors would鈥檝e been a complete disaster. There was a backup connection. But it would have been one giant leap toward losing the telecast.

鈥淲hen Honeysuckle was chosen as one of the transmission stations, it had pretty old infrastructure. Even for the time,鈥?he says.

鈥淚t was old valve equipment, not the new transistors. It could fail anytime. It could get hot and鈥?- Bruce clicks his fingers - 鈥渏ust die.鈥?/p>

As the pictures beamed through, neither Bruce nor his workmates spoke of making history, or watching it unfold.

鈥淭here was a cheer when it happened, but more of that feeling came later when we watched the news reports,鈥?he says.

鈥淲e didn鈥檛 see the celebrations happening like everyone else. And we didn鈥檛 know all the children had been given time off school to watch the landing.鈥?/p>

With a 40th anniversary reunion 鈥?鈥淚 haven鈥檛 seen some of those people since 1969鈥?鈥?coming up, Bruce wants more credit for the Australians who brought the moment into living rooms and moved Walter Cronkite to tears.

鈥淭here were about 100 Australians behind the scenes, and we worked as hard as anyone for very little recognition,鈥?he says, looking out at the traffic below.

The giant dish that loomed over Honeysuckle and skimmed history鈥檚 most famous pictures across the globe is now at Tidbinbilla Deep Space Tracking Station, ACT. It鈥檚 about to be decommissioned.

Asked if he hopes the dish will be preserved, Bruce chuckles.

鈥淚t鈥檚 26 metres across. You鈥檇 need a big museum,鈥?he says. But then he folds his arms over his grey woollen jumper, and smiles faintly.

鈥淏ut I used to think it was quite a sight, that enormous dish turning across the sky.鈥?