My Three Sons (1960–1972): Season 1, Episode 4 - Countdown - full transcript

A telecast of a countdown to a 1957 satellite launch provides the backdrop for a Monday morning in the Douglas household. Everyone seems to be unusually tired.

(theme song plays)

(alarm buzzing)

(buzzing continues)

(buzzing stops)

(sighs)

(sighs)

Firs... (clearing throat)

First call! Everybody
hit the deck!

(thudding)

(thudding)

(thudding)



(blowing air, single note plays)

(playing reveille lethargically)

"shoures soote

The droghte of March
hath perced to the roote..."

(reveille continues playing)

(burbles)

(reveille continues playing)

"Inspired hath in
every holt and heeth

The tendre croppes..."

(playing lethargically)

(playing slows)

(burbling)

COMMENTATOR (on TV): You are witnessing
the final stages of the countdown

in an attempt to place
a new satellite into orbit



around the Earth.

The time is zero
minus 26 minutes.

That's right. 26 minutes.

BUB: Hey, up there!

26 minutes to eat and run.

(siren wailing on TV)

MAN: Attention, please.

All personnel on the launchpad

will please clear the test area.

And all personnel
in the living room

will please get
dressed for breakfast.

We're late. (turns off TV)

Please, Bub, they're
launching a satellite.

26 minutes, he said.

And you gotta be out
of the house. Come on.

Well, at least leave
it on so I can hear it.

Oh, well, as long
as you keep moving.

Come on, now,
we're having oatmeal.

Instant oatmeal, so it
won't keep you waiting.

Now get upstairs
and do what I say.

It's only a few minutes.
Be lively, get up there.

Anybody alive topsides?

STEVE (yawning):
Yeah. We're conscious.

COMMENTATOR: The boot has been
sewed up completely around the booster.

The service tower is in
the process of being moved

to the transfer table.

MAN: Move it over
this way, Jackson.

MAN 2: Which way? To the right.

Hey, wake up!

(screams)

COMMENTATOR: The
time is zero minus 24 minutes.

24 minutes, and I still haven't
done my English theme yet.

And I still haven't found
anything interesting

to talk about in school.

It has to be about
a dramatic incident

and nothing dramatic
ever happens to me.

Timing is the key to
the proper organization

of the vast complex
of components

in any guidance system.

Snap it up, fellows.

You're all riding
with me this morning.

These men have trained for
years to operate as a team,

for in no other area of endeavor
is teamwork so essential.

I gotta shave.
Where's your trash?

Not only must each man
carry out his own task,

but he must perform it in
relation to the entire complex.

Only in this way
can miscalculations

be spotted early enough
to prevent disaster.

MIKE: Ow! My toe.

Ow!

Zero minus 23 minutes.

This room is the nerve
center (pounding on door)

where final
adjustments are made.

Here the requirements of
space and time are precise.

Chip, if you'd brush
your teeth in the bathtub

maybe I can shave.

MAN: Testing. One, two,

three, four. Mike, let him in.

COMMENTATOR:
The rocket is in bat 13,

one of the three
launch complexes.

All rocket systems
have been checked out

and the engines
have been test fired.

Strip the beds! This is Monday!

MAN: We'll be ready
for lube test at minus 18.

Strip the beds! Do you hear me?

MAN 2: Roger.

Service tower secure.

Crew going in by way of truck.

Roger?

We would like to
confirm our regulator

before going past this point.

Roger.

How about the sheets?!

This is Monday!

Roger.

Sheets and
pillowcases to the wash!

I'll collect them.

Every day the same old routine.

Nothing dramatic to write about.

Hey, cut it out.

Watch were you're stooping.

I'm not stooping.

COMMENTATOR: Modern technology
compels men to operate in harmony

in situations where
space and time are limited.

Thousands of components,
assemblies and subsystems

become a single unit at
the moment of blastoff.

Okay.

Hey, be careful.

Zero minus 21.

The payload is in position,

ready for launching into a
carefully pre-calculated orbit.

(metallic clanging)

Sheets please.

MAN: Test conductor
to range safety.

MAN 2: Go ahead.

MAN: We have satisfactorily
completed the range safety test.

Sheets please.

Haven't you even
started to dress?

Come on, Robbie, you're lagging.

Okay. Out for now.

COMMENTATOR:
The rocket stands ready,

a thing compounded out of
the gadgetry of the ballistic age.

A giant whose vital organs have
been given a thorough physical.

Yet for all it is still
only a machine,

a machine not fully predictable

until every one of its
mechanical patterns of behavior

are well understood
and proven reliable.

Zero minus 20!

MAN: Frank, how's
this local shower now?

MAN 2: Report from weather says

they don't expect much
lightning in the area.

High winds aloft.

Let's have the wash up there!

MAN: Roger. Go ahead.

The, uh, rainstorm's
moving south,

we expect it to be over in
about five or ten minutes.

You hit the basket,
I'll give you two points.

Then on further check,

reporting that barometric
readings show pressures

slowly rising along
the entire range.

MAN 2: Roger.

Stand by.

Come on, shake a leg, fellas.

I got an office
conference at 9:00.

Hurry it up, Chip.
"The droghte..."

Mike, don't forget
your wastebaskets.

COMMENTATOR: The
time is zero minus 18 minutes.

"Whan that Aprill,
with hise shoures soote

Perced to the roote."

Robbie, don't you have
band practice today?

Where's your horn? Oh, yeah.

I'm playing a solo
this afternoon.

Chip, did you comb
your hair? Yeah.

Boy, you sure need a haircut.

And the second hand
sweeps on as hundreds of men,

their nerves taut after
months of painstaking work,

weary from lack of sleep,

their senses
keyed to fever pitch,

prepare for their
rendezvous with destiny.

Minus 17 minutes
30 seconds... 29...

28... Come on, Chip, breakfast.

27... Robbie.

26...

"The droghte of March
hath perced to the roote

And bathed every veyne..."

"And bathed every
veyne in swich licour

Of which vertu
engendred is the flour."

You know Chaucer?

Well, how could I help it?

That's all I've been
listening to for a week.

I gotta have 18 lines
memorized by 9:00.

Uh-huh. And who talks
like Chaucer anymore?

"The droghte and March..."

and-and "swich licour."

This parabolic tracking
antenna is equipped

with the solid-state maser,
a synthetic ruby component

chilled in liquid
helium and capable of

microwave amplification

by stimulated
emission of radiation.

Well, at least
Chaucer spoke English.

We better eat now.

You can burn that trash later.

Zero minus 16 minutes.

And the clock moves on.

Fueling operations continue
as liquid oxygen is pumped into

the fuel storage components of
the rocket engines. (kettle whistling)

"Whan Zephirus eek
with his swete breeth

Inspired hath in
every holt and heeth..."

Zero minus 15.

That reminds me,

I'm gonna flunk English today.

And I haven't got
anything interesting

to take to school.

Why are you gonna flunk English?

I'm supposed to write a theme

about the most dramatic
incident of my life.

And nothing dramatic
ever happened to me.

And I'm supposed to bring

something interesting to school,

so the teacher
can talk about it.

Why is it when you
have a whole weekend

to do your homework you
put it off till Monday morning?

If I did that I wouldn't
have any drawing to show

at the conference this morning.

I worked on it
all day yesterday.

Well, I worked, too.

That's why my
wastebasket's so full.

Well, maybe you're, uh,
too easily discouraged.

I'll bet you threw some
of your best efforts

in the wastebasket.

All tracking stations

of the Atlantic Net
are on the alert,

their clocks coordinated
to compensate

for the fraction of a second
it takes each timing system

to travel through the telephone
cable to this giant computer

which files the thousands
of items of information.

Such filing systems as
these have all but eliminated

the possibility of human error.

MAN: Lox control
in process of tanking.

But nothing dramatic
ever happens to me.

And I can't find
anything interesting

to take to school.

How'd it be if you just
took yourself to school?

Lox tanking now completed.

What do you mean interesting?

You know, something
the teacher can talk about.

Oh.

Well, why don't you take
the Indian arrowheads?

Mike used them for
something interesting

when he was in the third
grade; then Robbie used them

and, uh, now you can use them.

If I can find them.

What's interesting
about an arrowhead?

The arrowhead is the
ancestor of all missiles

mechanically propelled.

Zero minus 13.

All stations ready for
counting. (siren wailing)

Jeepers, the rocket!

Arrowheads won't help
my English theme any.

Well, I've got the first
ten lines down cold.

Chip, come back and
finish your breakfast now.

(horn trumpets) Chip, you
leave my trumpet alone!

I told you I'd bop you one
if you ever touched my...

(horn trumpets)

Well, what'd you do with it?

MAN: Custom Banner
Alpha, this is Custom Nine.

Out for now.

Where's my trumpet?!

Would you please
repeat that, George?

I didn't quite read you.

What'd you do with my trumpet?!

I didn't do anything with it!

It's right there on the
floor where you put it!

Test conductor from Coordinator.

Go ahead, Coordinator.
What's the latest report?

It isn't here!

You have 100% optics.

Where is it?!

How should I know?

You were playing
it in the bedroom.

Everything checks
out okay on this level.

There may be some
turbulence up above.

Oh, yeah. I was
playing reveille.

You are correct.

I believe we had this, uh,

once before, didn't we?

Come on, Chip,
Robbie, finish your...

Shall I throw the oatmeal
out or fry it for dinner?

I don't know what's wrong
with everybody this morning.

Oh, daylight saving ended
yesterday and we moved

the clock ahead an
hour, don't you remember?

Oh, that's right, we all
lost an hour of sleep.

Maybe that's it.

I have to leave
the house at 8:30.

MAN: The launching area will
please be evacuated at once.

COMMENTATOR: Zero minus ten.

Oh, Chip, I'll get those
Indian arrowheads for you.

Go back and finish
your breakfast, will you?

Mike, don't forget
to burn that trash.

We're leaving
here in ten minutes.

Okay, we now have
a clear launchpad.

COMMENTATOR: Only one
big question mark remains.

Will the months of
precision planning

result in a successful take off?

In only minutes now we
shall have the answer.

Robbie, do you know where
those Indian arrowheads are?

Remember, you had them
when you were in the third grade.

How can I think
about arrowheads?

I can't even find my trumpet?

I'm supposed to play
a solo this afternoon.

How can you lose a trumpet?

You just played
reveille on it, didn't you?

Must be in here someplace.
Have you looked?

Yeah, everywhere. Did
you look under the bed?

Well, of course. Just
got finished looking there.

Well, wait a minute.
Now, this is silly.

Where were you
when you last had it?

Well, I was right here.

All right, and where
was the trumpet?

I guess it was
laying on the table.

Suppose this is the trumpet.

Now what happened?

Well, I picked it up

and I started playing
reveille like this.

(vocalizing reveille)
All right. Robbie!

Robbie, look, you don't
have to play the whole thing.

What happened next?

I'm not sure.

I guess I went
back to sleep again.

How do you mean?

Like this.

COMMENTATOR:
Preflight calculations,

allowing for the forces
of speed and gravity,

predict the missile's course
within a matter of inches.

Hey, take it easy.

My drawing has to get
to the office in one piece.

The trumpet sure couldn't
have gotten in that basket.

(rattling) No, but
something else did.

Zero minus nine.

The arrowheads,
in an Indian basket.

Where else?

You see how logic
pays off, Robbie?

Now... Here, try
again for your trumpet.

The entries in America's
race for space supremacy

are at their stations
in a concrete mass

called the blockhouse.

These final moments
are the culmination...

"So priketh hem
Nature in hir corages

"Thanne longen folk to goon

"on pilgrimages.

"So priketh hem
Nature... pilgrimages.

"Priketh hem
nature in hir corages

Thanne longen folk..."

(vocalizing reveille) Robbie, you
don't have to play it all the way through

every time; you're going
to get my drawing wet.

Now, begin at the end, will you?

(singsongy):
"Whan that Aprill...

"The droghte of
March hath perced...

perced to the roote..."

(vocalizing slow)

COMMENTATOR: Only by
repeated trials can success be assured.

Obviously you
dropped it right there.

Well, it isn't there now. No.

Well, I'm not going
to ruin my drawing

by using it for a
trumpet anymore.

No device has yet been invented

to rule out the
unforeseen accident.

"The droghte of March hath..."

I'll flunk English and
miss band practice.

I might as well stay home now.

My drawing.

It's gone.

"hath in ever holt and heeth..."

How could it be gone?

Well, maybe it's in your room?

Yeah.

I seken y-matche
to burne ye trashe.

Oh, you must be past line 18.

I don't recall that one.

I mean I need a match.

Oh, I don't know
that they had matches

in Chaucer's time or not.

Here, try these.

Tension mounts
as the test conductor

estimates the overall situation

and takes his station
at the firing button.

Where were you when
you last saw the drawing?

I was standing right here.

The drawing was on the table.

Oh, I-I'll admit I wasn't too
wide awake when I did it,

but I'm sure I rolled it
up and I put it in the tube.

How? Show me.

Like this.

I rolled it up.

"Whan Zephirus eek
with his swete breeth..."

Then I reached over
here, I got a tube.

And I put the drawing
in it just like that.

All stations now on
end-countdown status.

Stand by.

Hey, it worked! Here it is!

Good! My trumpet!

Your trumpet? Where's
my drawing? (playing)

(singing): "Hem
Nature in hir corages..."

It just couldn't have
walked away by itself.

Zero minus five. Wait a minute.

The wastebasket was right there.

It must be in the wastebasket.

Mike!

Roger.

Don't burn it!

Clear the deck.
Mike, don't burn it!

Roger, now turning
heater systems on to full.

(fire crackling)

Robbie, no!

I've got a hot iron.
The iron is hot.

I've got to get...
Mike, don't light it!

Zero minus three.

Beacon. Go!

G Nose cone.

Go! My drawing... G
guidance and IP. Go!

AFMTC Telemeter.

Go!

Missile and internal. (crashing)

Affirmative. Range ready.

Go.

Oh, no!

(fire crackling)

It's all right.

Eight hours work
almost gone up in smoke.

Come on, Robbie,
back inside. Come on.

Minus 1:45.

Engine test.

Missile AC and DC.

(door closes) Now,
what's going on?

Aren't you going to finish your
breakfast? Haven't got time.

Come on, everybody,
we're going right now.

Minus 60 seconds.

Come on, Chip. We
have to leave now.

Wait, Dad, I want to see this.

I'm sorry, Chip. Come
on, get your jacket on.

Please, they're just about
to show the countdown.

Get your jacket on. It's
going to fire in 50 seconds.

COMMENTATOR:
Zero minus 50 seconds.

Removing arming safety pin.

Arm switch to arm.

All right, all set everybody?

Let's go. Oh, I've got
to get my arrowheads.

Oh, no, you stay here,
Chip. I don't want to lose you.

What did I do with
those arrowheads, Rob?

Probably in my room, Dad.
Get them, will you please?

Hold this, will you?
Hurry it up, will you?

Zero minus 40
seconds. (siren wailing)

Range ready switch on.

Minus 30.

Starting bomb removal.

Pressure?

Satisfactory.

Water system?

Satisfactory.

Minus 20.

Nose cone?

All pre-start panel
lights are green.

Missile preparation complete.

All recorders to fast.

Start lights.

Start countdown.

Ten, nine, eight,
seven, six, five, four,

three, two... BUB: Robbie.

One.

(engine rumbling)

(engine rumbling)

Easy, baby. Go.

(engine rumbling)

Keep going, baby.

(engine rumbling)

(engine rumbling)

(explosion)

COMMENTATOR: This time the
months of work ended in failure.

The rocket went off course
and had to be destroyed

by remote control.

(turns off TV)

(sighs)

What's the matter now?

Bub, when daylight
savings ended last night,

what did you say you did?

I set the clock in the
kitchen ahead an hour.

And I set my wristwatch

and my alarm clock
by the kitchen clock.

So?

Well, Bub, I'm sure
we're not the only ones

that made this mistake, but
when daylight savings ended,

I think we should've set
the clocks back an hour.

Back? How can you
save any time that way?

Jeepers, you mean
the car radio was right?

I'm afraid so, Chip.

The time is now exactly

6:38 in the morning. Good night.

MIKE (yawns): No
wonder I'm tired.

Wake me up at 8:30.

ROBBIE: Two whole hours.

This is worse than
going duck hunting.

COMMENTATOR: The film you
have just seen was of an actual attempt

to put a satellite into
orbit in June 1957.

1957? I thought
it was right now.

The film has been
released by the Air Force

to acquaint the public
with the vast difficulties

that have had to be overcome
in expediting the space program.

But in scientific work,
what is called failure

is often the greatest success.

Instead, the unsuccessful tests

should be called rehearsals.

Rehearsals which lead

to the final perfect
performance.

Yes, man is dreaming.

Dreaming of the day when
his knowledge will take him

far beyond the
dimensions of Earth.

(siren wailing) "The
most dramatic incident...

"in my life:

"The Monday morning countdown.

Niner, eight... "Sometimes
when everything

seven, six, "seems
to be going wrong,

five, four, three,
"it's really going right.

Two, one. "For
example, I was about

"to fail English

"until we all made a mistake.

Looks good. "And the mistake

"gave me the opportunity

Still on track. "to
write this theme

"and something
dramatic to write about.

Keep going, baby.

"One morning, at the end
of daylight saving time...

Are you still tracking?

Yes, sir. Things
looking real fine.

I woke up and started
playing reveille..."

Got a real runner here.

Plus 60 seconds.

Mark five.

All the way, boy.