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Prestige Saved. After the war, J.P.L. developed the WAC Corporal and its successor, the Corporal E. Long before the Russians fired their Sputnik, J.P.L. had designed and had ready the spinning, clustered upper stages for an Army Redstone that the J.P.L. men insisted would put up a satellite. But not until the Navy's Vanguard fizzled on the sands of Cape Canaveral were they allowed to show what they could do—and redeemed U.S. prestige by flinging Explorer I into orbit. Since then, J.P.L.'s spinning clusters have launched three successful satellites, including the U.S. moon probe (Pioneer IV, which is now orbiting the sun).
In the late 1940s, J.P.L. set a team to work looking for a solid fuel that would be used in long-range rockets. Requirements were that the fuel burn evenly, resist cracking under pressure, and be capable of insulating the thin shell of the rocket from the heat of its own combustion. They hit upon a polysulfide—a rubbery, sticky liquid that could be poured, solidified, then burned at a controllable rate. It worked, and is now the basis for the Navy's Polaris and all other solid-fuel U.S. rockets. The small company that made it, Thiokol, has become one of the leaders of the new space industry. J.P.L. does not mind; once something developed at the laboratory works satisfactorily, J.P.L. passes on to other things.
Million-Mile Radio. Since rocket test shots are almost useless unless the rocket sends information about its performance, J.P.L. was forced to explore the electronic labyrinth of telemetering. One electronic job led to another, and now J.P.L. products ride in nearly all U.S. satellites, reporting the magnetism, heat and cosmic rays encountered in the unknown reaches of space. Such information has grown so voluminous that J.P.L. has its own computer to interpret it. For tracking space vehicles far out in the solar system, J.P.L. has built a radio telescope 85 ft. in diameter in the Mojave Desert, which can track a vehicle 1,000,000 miles away.
Last year J.P.L. was taken over from the Army by the newly created NASA. J.P.L. still does specific military work, but its main job is basic and applied research to further the U.S. push into space. One laboratory investigates the behavior of fuels, plastics and other materials at temperatures simulating space's icy cold. Long-range planners devise methods to map the far side of the moon. Biggest single project is Vega, the U.S.'s most advanced space vehicle. Expected to fly in about 18 months, the first Vega will use an Atlas D as its first stage. The second stage, powered by a General Electric X405 rocket engine, is intended to place a 2½-ton satellite in a 300-mile orbit. Later Vegas will have third stages fueled with a J.P.L.-developed mixture, hydrazine and nitrogen textroxide, and should be capable of putting a 500-lb. vehicle on Mars.
In spite of its glamorous mission, J.P.L. has no science-fiction atmosphere. Its researchers do not talk lightly about bases on the moon or armed satellites keeping watch on the earth. J.P.L.'s emphasis is on reliability, but sometimes one of its shots misbehaves. Then it issues no cheer ful announcement explaining how the failure was really a useful success. "It didn't work," say J.P.L. men, candidly. "We are upset about it."