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Moon, Neil and Buzz would theoretically complete the DOI burn. No-one could know for sure until radio contact resumed. At that point, if all had gone to plan, the landing would begin less than 20 minutes later.
In TV studios around the world, anchormen and experts were preparing for what promised to be the most significant moment in television history. There was a sense that humanity was going somewhere radically new. Unlike historical voyages of discovery, this time, through the wonders of television, the explorers were bringing mankind with them. It was a tight squeeze. Diagrams and animations supplied by NASA revealed how the astronauts were standing up in the tiny cabin of the lunar module. After explaining to viewers that there wouldn't be any TV pictures from space until the moonwalk, the networks broadcast the radio messages sent to and from Mission Control.

In the Mission Operations Control Room (MOCR), Kranz and his team were waiting for Eagle to resume contact. Kranz felt that the air had started to 'crackle' as anticipation of the coming events took hold of his young flight controllers. 20 Sitting to his left was Charles Lewis who, having survived his brush with the 'natives' on Zanzibar, was now serving as an assistant flight director. Further along the third row was communications officer Ed Fendell, supporting Michael in the command module. According to Kranz, Fendell liked to poke fun at his fellow controllers, but while some found him disruptive, Kranz respected his independence and reliability. Also supporting Columbia were John Aaron and Buck Willoughby (call-signs EECOM and GNC), who would be on hand to help Collins should he need to rescue the LM. Eagle itself was assisted by most of the rest of the controllers, including Dick Brown, who looked after communications and sat next to Fendell. In front of them, flight surgeon John Zieglschmid sat near to Deke Slayton and CapCom Charlie Duke, while across the aisle to the right were Bob Carlton and Don Puddy. The dry, laconic Carlton (call-sign Control) was monitoring Eagle 's navigation, control and propulsion systems, while the quick-witted Puddy (known as TELMU) watched the electrical power and life-support equipment. In the front row sat Steve Bales, the diligent Guido officer, who was looking after the LM's radar and computers and who had requested the extra training sessions to study the alarms. To his left, watching the LM's trajectory, was flight dynamics officer Jay Greene, described by Kranz as a cocky 'pipe-smoking rabblerouser'. The final members of the slightly rebellious front row were Chuck Deiterich, who would help plot a route home in an emergency, and Gran Paules, who was supporting Bales. Assisted by their backroom colleagues, the white team were monitoring the 270 measurements continuously transmitted by the LM. 21
Also sitting in the MOCR were astronauts Pete Conrad, Fred Haise, Jim Lovell and Bill Anders, while at the back, in 'management row', were Bob Gilruth, George Low, Chris Kraft and General Sam Phillips, Director of the Apollo Program. Behind the windows of the viewing gallery were more senior NASA figures from than had ever been gathered in one place before. They included administrator Tom Paine, the directors of four space centres (including Wernher von Braun), and astronauts Tom Stafford, Gene Cernan, Jim McDivitt and John Glenn. With them was John Houbolt, the man who had so energetically pushed for lunar orbit rendezvous.

When radio contact was lost prior to the DOI burn, Kranz suddenly became aware of the pressure his young team was under. Their average age was just 26, and some, like Puddy and Bales, had come straight from college. Instructing them to switch from the usual voice loops, he addressed them on a private internal circuit. Cornered in the viewing gallery, the brass were literally cut out of the loop. Later, Kranz remembered that he 'had to tell these kids how proud I was of the work that they had done'. In a