PDF

https://ntrs.nasa.gov/search.jsp?
R=20170001809 2019-03-08T00:44:10+00:00Z
Chapter 7
Materials for Launch Vehicle

Structures
Grant Henson
Chief Scientist
Invariant Laboratories LLC
Westlake, Ohio
7.1 Introduction
This chapter concerns materials for expendable and reusable launch
vehicle (LV) structures. An emphasis is placed on applications and design
requirements, and how these requirements are met by the optimum choice
of materials. Structural analysis and qualification strategies, which cannot
be separated from the materials selection process, are described.
A launch vehicle is an airborne system that delivers a payload from
the ground to suborbital, orbital or interplanetary space. The payload is
usually housed in a space vehicle or satellite that is not considered part
of the LV. When it is not important to distinguish the payload from the
space vehicle, both may be referred to as the payload.
Modern LVs are designed with a particular type of payload in mind
(astronauts, earth-orbiting instruments, interplanetary probes, etc.) but
1
7. Materials for Launch Vehicle Structures
at the dawn of the Space Age, vehicles performed multiple duty. For
example, the Atlas, Titan, and Thor/Delta vehicles all began as long-range
weapons and were later adapted for orbital delivery. Sounding rockets
such as Aerobee (historical) and Black Brant can leave the atmosphere
but do not enter orbit. For the purpose of this chapter, shorter-range
missiles that never leave the atmosphere are not considered LVs.
Most LVs, including Atlas, Delta, Ariane and Proton are expendable.
Expendable vehicles are flown only once; the upper stages may be disposed
of through a controlled re-entry, or may be left in orbit as “space junk,”
whereas the first stage or booster falls to earth in a cleared area. The
term booster usually means the first stage of a multi-stage LV and will
be used in that sense here.
Reusable systems may incorporate a single vehicle that both launches
the payload and houses it while in space, the prime example being
the Space Shuttle Orbiter. The Orbiter, and the similar Soviet Buran
vehicle, are here considered LVs rather than space vehicles, because
they must sustain atmospheric flight loads and environments similar
to those sustained by expendable boosters. Therefore, the materials
selection aspects are much the same as for expendable LVs. Proponents
of reusable vehicles assert that they can be cheaper and more reliable
than expendables. On the other hand, recovery and refurbishment are
costly, and a failure of a vehicle intended for re-use is more damaging
to schedules and budgets than a failure of an expendable vehicle. The
envisioned benefits of reusability have led to recent investment, both
public and private, in reusable vehicle development.
One source [1] claims that a reusable variant of the Aerobee sounding
rocket was flown; if so, it was the first reusable vehicle. Notable reusable
orbital LV programs that never demonstrated powered flight were the Sea
Dragon, X-33, X-34 and the K-1. The first stage of the Soviet/Russian
Energia vehicle, developed to lift the Buran orbiter as well as other heavy
orbital payloads, was designed to be reusable for at least ten flights [2].
However, it has never actually been recovered and reused. The DC-
X/-XA was an early demonstration of reusable rocket flight within the
atmosphere. SpaceShipOne reached suborbital space in 2004, landed, and
repeated the feat. However, neither of these systems led to a sustained
record of operations. In 2015, a New Shepard vehicle, including both the
booster stage and the space vehicle, was recovered from suborbital flight
2
7.1. Introduction
and then successfully reflown 61 days later. Also in 2015, the booster
stage of a Falcon 9 was recovered by powered descent onto a land-based
pad after having launched a payload to orbit; s i n c e t h e n several
attempts to descend onto a seagoing platform have been successful.
Today, space launch vehicles are considered, along with aircraft, part
of a single endeavor we call “aerospace.” But various dictionaries date this
term only back to the late 1950s, at least a decade after the guided missile,
for better or worse the archetype of the modern LV, was developed. In
most nations, the initial authority for developing guided missiles rested
with the artillery or ordnance corps, not the air corps. The relevance
of this observation is that while launch vehicle materials and structures
technologies have much in common with those of aircraft, the degree of
commonality is perhaps less than one might think.
Investment in LV development and operation is now a small part of
the overall aerospace economy.1 However, for several decades, political
and military imperatives drove high expenditures on LV development,
leading to significant advances. New materials and structures had to be
developed in parallel with other vehicle systems in “crash” programs,
under high risk of technological failure, in order to satisfy aggressive
performance requirements within the desired time frame. While the pace
of innovation was slow for decades, increased emphasis on cost reduction
and improved reliability continue to drive incremental advances in ma-
terials and structures technology. Also, large, qualitative improvements
in computing capabilities and newly available precursor materials have
provided a technology push to encourage further advances in LV materials
and structures.
Because materials selection for LVs is affected by laws and regulations
that vary from country to country, it is important to note where LVs are
built and used. Until the 1970s, the United States and the Soviet Union
(Russia and Ukraine) dominated LV production. More recently, France
1
For example, the U.S. Census Bureau reported about $23 billion in deliveries of “guided
missile and space vehicle manufacturing,” “guided missile and space vehicle propulsion unit
and propulsion unit parts manufacturing,” and “other guided missile and space vehicle parts
and auxiliary equipment manufacturing” in 2005, which surely includes many billions spent
on non-launch-vehicle hardware such as anti-aircraft missiles. Compare this to $114 billion
in deliveries of aircraft and related items [3]. Considering that many countries manufacture
aircraft but not launch vehicles, LVs probably constitute under 10% of the global aerospace
economy.
3
and China have developed and operated a significant number of LVs.

Within the last few years, India, South Korea, North Korea and Iran have
also developed LVs. The French and Ukrainian vehicles are launched
from different countries than the ones they are produced in. Also, many
vehicles contain major substructures or engines built in several different
countries. Table 7.1 shows orbital launches broken down by country of
final factory assembly.
Table 7.1: Orbital vehicles launched over two recent periods, grouped by
country of production [4, 5].
Period Country of Production Share
1990 to 1998 US 39%
Russia 32%
France 13%
Ukraine 9%
China 5%
Japan 2%
Israel, India < 1%
2007 to mid-2009 Russia 30%
US 26%
China 14%
Ukraine 13%
France 8%
India 4%
Japan 2%
Iran, Israel,
North Korea, South Korea < 1%
Chapters 11 and 12 of this book are dedicated to materials for the solid
rocket motors and liquid rocket engines, respectively, that propel LVs.
Propulsion materials and structures are mainly affected by the loads and
environments generated within the engine or motor itself, such as thrust
chamber pressure. However, a section is provided in this chapter on
large solid rocket motor cases, because they can form a significant part
of the load-bearing capability of the vehicle as a whole. The structural
failure of a large strap-on solid rocket motor on an Ariane 5 or the
Space Shuttle, or the solid rocket boost stage of the Ares I, would
doom the vehicle structure rather than just the propulsion system.
Inclusion of solid rocket motor cases with the structural system
4
7.2. Launch Vehicle Structures
rather than the propulsion system follows the precedent set in [6]. Also,
propulsion support systems such as propellant feedlines are included in
this chapter, because they are usually the responsibility of the launch
vehicle contractor.
7.2 Launch Vehicle Structures

The typical missile-derived expendable LV may be thought of as a stack of
tanks with an engine at one end and a payload at the other. The fuel and
oxidizer are contained in separate tanks. In more detail, the engines are
mounted to the aft end of the tanks and exert thrust through a reinforced
structure. The tanks are connected with thin-walled cylinders called skirts
or intertanks. Complete stages are connected to one another through
cylindrical shells called interstages or adapters. When the connected
stages are of different diameters, the adapter has the shape of a truncated
cone, which may have its smaller diameter forward or aft. When the
smaller diameter is aft, the structure may be referred to as a boattail.
The forward end of the vehicle is formed by a tapered shell that
also encloses the payload. This structure is referred to as the payload
fairing, payload shroud, nose fairing, or nose cone. Inside the nose cone,
and attached to the forward end of the upper stage, is the payload.
The payload is attached through a payload adapter or payload fitting.
Therefore, at the forward end of the vehicle, there are two primary load
paths: the payload fairing or outer branch and the payload attach fitting
or inner branch. Usually, but not always, the tank walls themselves carry
the primary loads. Occasionally, if a stage is much smaller in diameter
than the payload compartment or the booster, the entire stage may be
contained in a non-load-bearing aeroshell or aerofairing.
The major substructures are attached using bolted flanges. The
connections may be made with the vehicle in either the horizontal or
vertical position, in a factory or at the launch site. The final placement
of the payload onto the vehicle frequently takes place with the vehicle
actually sitting on the launch pad.
Figure 7.1, a cutaway view of the Saturn V launch vehicle used to
launch astronauts to the Moon, shows the location of the tanks, engines,
and payload. The Apollo payload was unusually large and bulky, and
resided within a complex fairing topped by an escape rocket. A nearly
5
cylindrical interstage can be seen joining the booster to the second stage,
and a conical one can be seen joining the second and third stages. Some
internal structures and stiffeners in the tanks are visible. The booster
fuel and oxidizer tanks are joined by a cylindrical intertank, while the
second and third stage tanks have common bulkheads to save weight and
volume.
The outer mold line is the outermost surface of the cylindrical struc-
ture, visible from the outside, while the inner mold line is the inner
surface. These terms, common in composite molding processes, are used
even if there was actually no molding involved in building the structure.
LV shell structures may completely lack internal bracing or stiffen-
ing, may have stiffeners integrally machined into the wall, or may have
mechanically attached stiffeners or braces. Extensive internal framing is
rarely used in launch vehicles except in thrust structures.
The term membrane is used to refer to the part of a shell structure
far from attachments or other discontinuities, in which only in-plane
loading is significant. This same area may be called acreage, especially
when discussing thermal protection systems. In contrast, flanges, door
seals, bolt lines, and the like may be called details or closeouts; closeouts
especially refer to small items or fasteners that are the last to be installed
when building the vehicle.
Reusable designs with winged launch and re-entry vehicles do not
conform to the description just given. The Space Shuttle is functionally
split into the reusable Orbiter, the partially reusable Solid Rocket Boosters,
and the expendable External Tank (ET). Many different concepts, from
single-stage-to-orbit to staged systems comprising a winged vehicle piggy-
backed on a more conventional missile-like booster, have been proposed.
Wilhite [7], in the context of a particular trade study, discusses some of
the materials selection aspects of advanced fully reusable designs. It is
telling that only rather exotic materials (a metal matrix composite with
silicon carbide fibers, and monolithic titanium aluminide) were considered
feasible for the two-stage-to-orbit systems he explored.
7.3 Basic Material Characteristics

As with other aerospace applications, the most important characteristics
of LV materials are
6
7.3. Basic Material Characteristics
Figure 7.1: Cutaway view of the Saturn V launch vehicle with the Apollo
payload , showing major substructures . NASA graphic.
• material strength, based on any applicable failure criteria,

• material stiffness, as quantified by the elastic modulus or moduli,
• mass density,
• nature of the failure modes (gradual or sudden),
• ability to tolerate small-scale damage,
• mechanical and chemical compatibility with nearby mater ials.
Long-term damage resistance or durability are not as important in ex-
7
pendable LVs as in reusable ones, and much less important than in
aircraft.
In many LV applications, the foregoing must remain favorable at very
high or low temperatures and in the presence of humid, corrosive or other
degrading environments. Because most launch vehicles use cryogenic propellants,
properties at very low temperatures are important; high- temperature properties
can also be important because of the aerodynamic heating encountered in the high-
speed atmospheric part of the trajectory.
Knowledge of material characteristics must be quantitative in order to play
a direct role in structural system trade studies. The stiffness and density of most
materials are consistent enough to be treated as deterministic values for a
particular material at a given temperature. However, material strength displays
sample-to-sample variation that must be taken into account in both design and
analysis; design values based on tenth- or first-percentile strength are more
important than average strength. Further, if the factors tending to cause variations in
strength are poorly understood, high safety factors must be used to preserve reliability,
leading to heavier structures.
Equally important is manufacturability. Without the ability to shape or
assemble a material into an efficient structure, the material’s intrinsic advantages
become meaningless. For instance, a single carbon nanotube is extremely strong, but
until a carbon nanotube structure of useful size can be manufactured while
preserving this extreme strength, that material will not play a significant
economic role. Aspects of manufacturability that are especially relevant to LV
applications include
• weldability,
• machinability,
• ease of making a composite laminate, and formability or “drape” of
plies,
• ease of assembly using fasteners, co-curing, adhesives, locking fea-
tures and so on.
Thermal properties may also be important; in particular, it is desirable to have
thermal expansion characteristics that are predictable and compatible with adjacent
materials, including tooling.
These general characteristics must be associated with relevant, measureable material
properties, or at least be translated into standardized tests. A good summary of the
properties and tests most relevant to structural design can be found by reviewing
the data tables in the universally referenced Metallic Materials Properties
Development and Standardization (MMPDS) published by the Federal
8
Aviation Administraion (FAA) [8]. This reference was formerly known as MIL-
HDBK-5. In this work we find data on
• material strength, including typical values and statistically derived
lower-bound design allowables for
– tensile yield and rupture (“ultimate”)
– compressive yield
– shear rupture
– bearing yield and rupture
• elongation to break
• tensile and compressive Young’s modulus
• shear modulus
• Poisson’s ratio
• density
• thermal conductivity, heat capacity, and thermal expansion coeffi-
cient
These properties are reported for a wide range of tempers of commonly
used metals. They are usually given for various thicknesses, because
heat or age treatment affects metals differently depending on the thick-
ness. Also, they may be given at elevated or cryogenic temperatures for
various exposure times, or plots of temperature adjustment factors may
be provided. In some cases, full-range stress-strain curves are provided.
These are required in order to perform stress analysis in the plastic range.
Finally, S-N (fatigue) diagrams and Paris-region crack growth curves are
provided for many alloys.
Metal properties at cryogenic temperatures depend strongly on the
crystal structure. Face-centered cubic metals such as aluminum and the
austenitic stainless steels experience a rise in ultimate strength but a
lesser increase in yield strength, which preserves their ductility. Body-
centered cubic metals such as the ferritic steels tend to experience a
greater increase in yield strength than in ultimate strength, which results
in more brittle behavior.
For composite materials, which are generally not isotropic, more exten-
sive (and expensive) testing may be required for full characterization. To
take full advantage of the directional stiffness and strength properties of
composites, directional material properties must be available. Composite
9
properties are not as readily available as metal properties, because of the

proprietary constituents and processes that are used, and hence are not
widely applicable. However, one frequently consulted reference that may
be used for initial design calculations is the Composite Materials Handbook
[9], formerly sponsored by the Department of Defense as MIL-HDBK-17.
In this handbook we find data on strength, modulus and elongation to
break for fiber, tapes, prepreg cloth and laminae, under various temper-
ature and moisture conditions. This information, in combination with
thickness and ply angles for laminate designs, may be used to build up
the full laminate stiffness matrix. Much of these data are labeled by
fiber volume fraction, ply thickness, and other processing parameters, but
these parameters may vary so much in practice that it may be difficult
to find directly applicable handbook data.
MMPDS defines the A-, B- and S-values as statistical minimums
for design use. Roughly speaking, the A- or S-values are suitable for
non-redundant structure and the B-values are suitable for redundant
structure. The A-value is the value that 99% of all samples are expected
to exceed, at the 95% confidence level. The B-value is the value that
90% of all samples are expected to exceed, at the 95% confidence level.
The S-value is not a statistically derived value but rather a specification
minimum. S-values may be substituted for A-values provided the material
is screened to ensure the S-value is met.
While every materials and structures engineer should be thoroughly
familiar with these definitions, their significance should not be exagger-
ated. It has been said that “typically, less than 1 percent of composite
structures on large aircraft is actually governed by unnotched laminate
strengths” [10]. While this may be overstating the case, it is clear that
the familiar uniaxial tensile strengths are not the last word in material
characteristics. Reference [10] states that “joints, damage tolerance, and
stiffness” govern the choice of the rest of the materials.
The above may be regarded as a minimum set of properties needed to
produce a credible preliminary design. However, many other properties,
in particular strength properties under flight-like combinations of loads
and including stress raisers, are important. Even with the widespread
availability of finite element analysis, it is still important to characterize
material strength in realistic regimes through careful testing. A detailed,
nonlinear, validated finite element analysis may well prove more expensive
10
and less reliable than a well-planned test to determine, for example, the
fatigue life of a bonded joint. Some examples of strength testing from
the literature are biaxial strength [11], cryogenic fracture toughness and
fracture toughness ratio [12], hardness, tangent modulus, impact, notched
fatigue, weld coupons, and creep-rupture [13].
In addition to numerical property data, MMPDS and the Composite
Materials Handbook also include information on applications, material
processing, corrosion resistance, maximum service temperatures, and
other information relevant to the designer.
A comprehensive handbook on materials selection for launch vehi-
cles (and space systems in general) that is more oriented toward physi-
cal/chemical properties and compatibility is MSFC-HDBK-527, Materials
Selection List for Space Hardware Systems, published by NASA Marshall
Space Flight Center [14]. This handbook provides a very extensive sum-
mary of knowledge concerning the corrosion, stress corrosion cracking,
propellant and working fluid compatibility, flammability, toxicity and
thermal vacuum stability properties of aerospace materials, both metallic
and nonmetallic.
Another excellent reference is the Aerospace Structural Metals Hand-
book [15]. This work, which was originally sponsored by the Air Force
Materials Laboratory, contains not only extensive tables of data, but also
a cross-reference so that the same alloy may be located under names that
may vary from producer to producer or country to country. Data are
usually typical properties rather than statistical minimum design values.
The book is now available as an online database.
Per-piece raw material cost is usually small compared to tooling
and labor costs at the low production rates typical of LVs. Therefore,
the cost of the material in its unprocessed form is rarely an important
consideration in materials selection. If a material is commercially available
in the required sizes, quantities, and on the needed schedule, it is a
candidate for use in a launch vehicle structure, practically regardless of
cost. Historically, space programs would even specify custom materials
having no existing commercial applications and therefore being subject
to unknown cost and production fluctuations; for example, Rocketdyne
developed NARloy-Z specifically for use in the linear aerospike engine and
Space Shuttle Main Engine [16]. But lately this high-risk, high-reward
approach has been discouraged.
11
Although much of the effort to develop requirements and materials for

reusable vehicles stemmed from the Space Shuttle Orbiter program, the
same questions had to be addressed by the designers of the Soviet/Russian
Buran orbiter [17]. Much of this development had to take place inde-
pendently, because of the political situation. Unlike the Space Shuttle
Orbiter, Buran did not have booster engines, only orbital maneuvering
engines; launch was solely by means of external boosters. The Buran
designers found that riveting was not compatible with graphite-epoxy
composites, due to inadequate impact strength. They also reported that
due to galvanic corrosion, it was not possible to use aluminum fittings
with composites, so titanium was used instead. This problem was largely
solved on the Space Shuttle by careful material compatibility studies. As
in the West, the Buran designers noted that the strength and stiffness
properties of composites tend to vary more than those of metals. Finally,
the Buran designers identified fastening and joining as the key challenge
in designing with composites, a finding that many composites designers
will agree with.
Durability and Reusability

Fatigue, fracture and aging characteristics are less important for ex-
pendable launch vehicles than for aircraft or reusable LVs. However,
when long delays between manufacture, testing and operation must be
accommodated, thermal and chemical aging as well as ambient moisture
uptake should be considered in materials selection. Repeated ground
tests can consume some of the fatigue life. Material characteristics that
are particularly important in reusable vehicles are
• resistance to fracture and the propagation of cracks under fluctuating
loads
• ductility
• resistance to stress corrosion
• the ease with which damage can be found and characterized, and
• chemical and electrochemical compatibility with other materials or
contained fluids.
Structures in a reusable vehicle will obviously experience more loading
cycles than if the vehicle were expended, but airliner-style operations
12
in which thousands of flights may be accumulated are not yet possible

for LVs. For example, the Space Shuttle Orbiter airframes had a design
lifetime of 100 missions. For metal primary structure not exposed to
high load fluctuations, and designed to withstand flight loads without
macroscopic yielding, 100 missions will not consume a significant amount
of the high-cycle fatigue life. However, undetectable pre-existing cracks
on highly loaded structures or near stress raisers may grow to dangerous
lengths within 100 flights. Failures due to fracture may pose a risk
to nearby components if a moving part is liberated. Also, low-cycle
fatigue, which by definition requires significant plastic deformation, can
be important on expendable LVs.
In the present context, it is sufficient to understand that the fracture
failure mode occurs when a fatigue crack grows to its critical size (the
size at which unstable, catastrophic propagation of the crack occurs).
Predicting the initiation of a crack is outside the normal scope of the
fracture analysis; the analysis assumes the existence of the largest unde-
tectable crack at the worst-case location at the time of inspection. The
fracture or “safe-life” analysis predicts the growth of the crack under the
expected “spectrum” of fluctuating loads. It predicts how long the loads
may be sustained before the crack reaches its critical length.
Safe-life analysis2 may be defined as the understanding and quantifica-
tion of life estimates. Safe-life-critical structures are likely to be included
in the LOLI (Limited Operating Life Item) listing of the vehicle. LOLI
hardware can be life-limited due to corrosion life, battery life, time of
operation, thermal cycles, etc., but here we focus on the safe-life fracture
analysis. A LOLI definition is provided for the vehicle which includes the
“zero time,” and how cycles are to be counted. A quality control group
tracks the cycles for each vehicle. As far as safe-life is concerned, LOLI
counts are counts of stress excursions beyond a defined level, and the zero
time is the time at which flaw inspection was done. Re-inspecting the
structure is a way to reset the zero time and gain additional life.
For an expendable vehicle, the service life is an assumed, fixed number
of load cycles high enough to allow checkout and multiple launch attempts,
each involving a load cycle due to tank prelaunch pressurization. As
more and more vehicles of a particular type are launched, fewer launch
2
This material on fracture-based safe life and fracture control was contributed by John
Hilgendorf, Structural Analysis Lead for Delta II, United Launch Alliance.
13
attempts should be needed per actual launch, so the assumed service life
may decrease. For life-limited structures, the shorter assumed service
life can lead to higher life margins, greater tolerance for manufacturing
discrepancies or found flaws, and lighter-weight structure in case there is
an opportunity for design changes.
Figure 7.2 shows an idealized crack growth curve for a metal under
fluctuating stresses. This is commonly referred to as a da/dN curve,
where a is the crack length and N is the number of cycles. The many
factors influencing this curve, such as stress ratio and frequency, are
discussed in detail in previous chapters. Due to the short life of an
expendable LV, crack-growth concerns are frequently in Region 3 of the
da/dN curve.
Being unstable in nature, Region 3 predictions can be unreliable.
When the metal is ductile, much of this Region 3 crack growth is of a
tearing nature. In situations where production discrepancies or damage
during pre-launch operations occur, it is sometimes necessary to remove
conservatism to adequately assess the risk associated with the damage.
In these cases, elastic-plastic fracture mechanics or other less conservative
theories may be used.
When sustained loading is part of the load spectrum, stress corrosion
of the potential flaw needs to be considered. Keac (or KIssc ) is a truncated
value which toughness can be degraded to, under sustained loads. The
stress corrosion resistance may need to be taken into account for pressure
vessels storing fluids used to pressurize pneumatic, hydraulic or ullage
pressure systems. The time at load can be as short as a few hours.
For vehicles considered to be at risk of failure due to crack propagation,
a formal fracture control program may be implemented. Information
describing how to write a fracture control plan may be found in [18]. A
fracture control program classifies parts as fracture-critical if they exceed a
certain mass, are uncontained, non-fail-safe, part of a pressurized system,
or meet other criteria that suggest serious consequences in case of failure.
For fracture-critical components, the fracture control program applies
special analysis, testing and inspection requirements to reduce the chance
of a harmful fracture. These vary from program to program but generally
amount to an analytical determination of the smallest crack that could
grow to critical size before the next regular inspection, and an inspection
plan that will detect a large percentage of cracks larger than that critical
14
Figure 7.2: Idealized plot of crack growth as a function of stress cycles for a
metal. By J. Hilgendorf, United Launch Alliance.
size. In addition, the fracture control program places restrictions on

the materials that may be used and specifies the documentation needed
to ensure that the correct material has been used, that it has been
processed in a way to discourage the initiation of cracks, and that the
proper inspections have been performed. It also specifies a factor to cover
analysis uncertainty: typically, a fracture-critical part may be used for
one-fourth of the life predicted by the safe-life analysis before it must be
reinspected.
Because they involve inspection, fracture control programs are most
commonly seen in aircraft and in reusable LVs such as the Space Shuttle.
Expendable vehicles cannot be inspected after use unless they are recov-
15
ered, and then they will not be flown again anyway. However, expendable
vehicles must undergo ground tests that consume some of the safe life of
the parts, and inspection is possible after ground tests. So fracture control
may be applied in expendable vehicle programs to a limited extent.
Specialized Materials
Most of the foregoing discussion applies to metals and composites, which
are by far the most important materials used in launch vehicle structures.
Their useful regime is linear elastic, and the effects of temperature and
other environments on their behavior is small enough that it may usually
be accounted for with adjustment factors. If a metal structure does yield,
the amount of yielding is small enough that deformation plasticity in the
form of an isotropic Mises yield function followed by a Ramberg-Osgood
description of plastic flow, is usually sufficient.
For more complex materials such as elastomers, foam and adhesives,
materials testing becomes even more expensive and time-consuming,
and good property data accordingly harder to come by. Fortunately,
these materials are often used in applications where very accurate me-
chanical property data are not vital. Many of these materials display
time-dependent behaviors such as relaxation and creep, and have strong
temperature dependence. They may also have nonlinear stress-strain
curves, or may have such a large strain during operation that they must
be treated with one of the many nonlinear theories of mechanics.
For materials that are not linear elastic, the distinction between phe-
nomena and properties becomes important. Phenomena are behaviors
such as elasticity, creep, and relaxation that can be observed and mea-
sured without assuming a particular material model. Observing material
phenomena can be useful for screening or lot acceptance, and can suggest
an appropriate material model, but are usually insufficient inputs for
accurate simulation of structural response.
To conduct accurate analyses and simulations, a material model
(constitutive equation) must be assumed, and only then can the properties
defined in the model be measured. For instance, some type of stiffness
may be measured for all elastic materials, but once one is forced to
consider large strains of a compressible material, a large-strain model
containing three properties may be necessary. A conventional uniaxial
tension test will not suffice to determine the three properties; multiple
16
7.4. Structural Design and Requirements
specialized tests are needed. A less desirable, but nevertheless common,

approach is to adjust the properties until analysis agrees with a variety
of measured responses that are similar to the actual application of the
material.
Rational Methods of Materials Selection

Materials selection is a part of structural design optimization, whether
the optimization is done intuitively by an experienced designer working
on a minor variation of an existing design, or quantitatively through the
use of a large material properties database and algorithms for adjusting
hundreds of design variables.
The classical approach to optimum design, including material selection,
was comprehensively reviewed in [19]. It involves the definition of a design
index based on a requirement. For example, to optimize a thin-walled
column, equations relating external load to the critical stress for two
failure modes (column instability and local buckling) are derived, and by
requiring that the margin of safety for both failure modes be minimized,
a design index in determined. In this example, the index is a function of
Young’s modulus, some sort of plastic modulus, the load, and the length
of the column. Given a set of values for some of these parameters, the
others can be chosen so as to optimize the design index.
The design index approach is only tractable for problems involving
a few key parameters. The ability to determine ahead of time which
parameters are key is an aspect of engineering genius that not everyone
enjoys. But by computerizing the process, the number of variables
can be greatly enlarged, so an intuitive ability to narrow down the
design space is less important. One such approach was documented by
Mukhopadhyay [20]. Chapter 3 of the present book discusses materials
selection in greater detail.
7.4 Structural Design and Requirements

Materials selection is as much a part of the design process as sizing.
In fact, the two cannot be separated. Therefore, the requirements and
criteria that impinge on the structural sizing process also impinge on
materials selection.
17
Development practices in LV materials and structures are an interest-

ing combination of extreme conservatism and bold risk-taking. Modern
LV development programs typically budget for zero or one test flight
before an expensive payload is launched. Differences in payloads and
trajectories tend to limit the amount of knowledge that can be carried
from one flight to the next. When a military service decides to launch
a billion-dollar, one-of-a-kind payload critical to national security on
an expendable LV in a configuration that may never have been flown
before, the materials selection, structural sizing process, and testing are
held to standards that owe more to custom than science. The launch
decision itself is a major, irrevocable commitment of resources based on
a significant extrapolation of experience. Therefore, the extrapolation
process must be as rational as possible.
The following discussion is necessarily general, because program-
specific policies are usually trade secret and/or export-controlled. This
section does not purport to review unusual or innovative structural
qualification methods, or specific reliability requirements, that are not
documented in the public domain.
Contractual Requirements
By far the most significant requirements are those imposed by the procur-
ing agency or, in the case of commercial operations, by the payload
client. In some cases these requirements are actually drawn up by the LV
contractor itself, subject to revision and approval by the procuring agency.
Requirements exist in a hierarchy that is managed by systems engineers
primarily to ensure that the LV delivers a functioning space vehicle to the
desired orbit, and secondarily to minimize the cost, development time,
danger to the public and other factors. The structural system, propulsion
system, guidance and navigation system, and other systems are considered
subsystems of the LV system as a whole. Blair and Ryan [21] provide a
good overview of requirements and standards, and how detailed design
criteria are derived from them.
A set of top-level functional requirements for the structural system
that could well apply to many different LVs is
• to support and protect the other vehicle systems and the space
vehicle such that they can function properly
18
• to contain and deliver working fluids to the propulsion, guidance

and other systems
• to maintain an aerodynamically acceptable shape, and
• to do the above in a way consistent with the functioning of the other
vehicle systems; for example by allowing electrical grounding.
Top-level requirements may specify not only the performance goals to
be met, but also the likelihood that the design will meet them. It may
be required that the vehicle be 98% likely to meet all requirements; that
is, to place an intact payload into the proper orbit 49 out of 50 times on
average.
It is difficult or impossible to predict whether a complex machine like
an airplane or a launch vehicle will satisfy such a requirement simply based
on the design. There are too many interacting failure modes. For aircraft,
the large number of repeated operations makes it possible to develop
some empirical rules of thumb. But even an empirical approach is usually
not possible for LVs, because of the low numbers of identical vehicles and
operations. Some researchers have attempted to use a Bayesian statistical
approach to circumvent the lack of data [22]. An alternative might be
to break the vehicle down into a few standard subsystems, and try to
reuse those standard designs on many different vehicles, thus providing a
significant experience base. But for LVs this is the exception rather than
the rule.
Top-level reliability requirements are best interpreted as a general
statement positioning the desired reliability relative to similar systems. It
is healthy to realize that perfect reliability is neither possible nor desirable.
For example, the Japanese space development agency set a reliability goal
of 96% for their H-2A vehicle, stating honestly that they would not be
“aiming for the ultimate in design” [23].
Laws and Regulations

The previous discussion covered requirements imposed by the procuring
agency or self-imposed by LV contractors. Another class of requirements
is that imposed by laws and regulations. These seek to minimize overflight
and environmental hazards to the public. In the United States, the FAA
regulates commercial space operations but not operations carried out by,
or on behalf of, the federal government. This excludes the majority of
19
launches (and re-entries) from FAA scrutiny. Also, Title 14 of the Code
of Federal Regulations does not impose the same very detailed structural
requirements on LVs as it does on aircraft. It is mostly concerned with
hazards from expended stages, re-entering payloads, and mishaps. The
FAA’s relationship with the private space launch industry is still evolving
but it appears that private launches will not be regulated as closely as
passenger aircraft. Therefore, vehicle safety laws and regulations do not
significantly constrain materials selection for LV structures.
However, environmental regulations have had a significant and ongoing
impact on materials selection for LVs, particularly in the area of coatings
and insulation. Heavy metals such as cadmium, mercury and lead were
once commonly used in metals processing and plating, but as it has become
widely known that these substances are poisonous, regulations have
greatly reduced their use. Beryllium has important aerospace structures
applications due to its thermal stability, but beryllium dust is toxic
and must be handled carefully. Also, the use of asbestos insulation and
chlorofluorocarbon blowing agents for foam insulation has been greatly
reduced by environmental regulations.
Range Safety
The other major class of requirements is that imposed by operators of
launch ranges to minimize the risk of injury to personnel and damage to
ground equipment. Military, government non-military and commercial
organizations alike must adhere to range safety rules. The vast majority
of LVs are operated out of the ranges listed in Table 7.2.
For many years, the governing range safety document for the Eastern
and Western Ranges of the United States was EWR 127-1, Eastern and
Western Range Safety Policies and Procedures [24]. Although EWR 127-1
states that it is “applicable to all organizations, agencies, companies and
programs conducting or supporting operations on the ER and WR,” it now
only governs programs introduced at the Ranges prior to 2004. Since 2004,
Air Force Space Command has issued the manuals AFSPCMAN 91-710,
Range Safety User Requirements Manual [25] and AFSPCMAN 91-711,
Launch Safety Requirements for Air Force Space Command Organizations
[26] as replacements for EWR 127-1. The former is binding on all range
users, but the latter is binding only on Air Force space programs.
EWR 127-1 sets as a general goal that the risk of injury or damage
20
Table 7.2: Major space launch ranges
Name Launch Location(s) Notes
Eastern Range Cape Canaveral Air Force Station, Florida Mainly low-inclination orbital
vehicles on a southeastward
ground track
Western Range Vandenberg Air Force Base, California High-inclination orbital vehi-
cles on a southward ground
track, and suborbital vehicles
westward toward Kwajalein
Atoll

Wallops Research Range Wallops Island, Virginia Small suborbital and orbital
vehicles in eastward to south-
ward directions
Guiana Space Centre Kourou, French Guiana Orbital vehicles to a wide
range of inclinations
Baikonur Cosmodrome Tyura-Tam, Kazakhstan Orbital vehicles along a corri-
dor extending northeastward
over Russian territory
Plesetsk Cosmodrome Arkhangelskt Oblast, Russia Northward into high-
inclination and polar orbits
Sea Launch Equatorial Pacific Ocean Low-inclination orbital
launches
21
to the public due to space launches should be no greater than that

normally accepted in day-to-day activities, including the risk due to
airplane overflights. It uses language such as “all reasonable precautions
shall be taken” and “lowest risk possible”.
Section 3.12 of EWR 127-1 contains detailed requirements for testing
and analysis of pressurized systems and structures on LVs.3 It requires
that materials be compatible with working fluids, seals, lubricants, and so
on, from the standpoint of flammability, ignition and combustion, toxicity
and corrosion, and requires the range user to supply evidence in the form
of a report. It specifies that material compatibility should be based on
T.O. 00-25-223, Integrated Pressure Systems and Components (Portable
and Installed), Chemical Propulsion Information Agency Publication
394 [27], MSFC-HDBK-527 [14], or independent testing.
EWR 127-1 also specifies qualification, acceptance, hydrostatic proof
and leak testing requirements for pressure vessels and pressurized systems.
It requires quite specific design solutions to reduce risk, such as the loca-
tion of drains and vents, design of interconnects, and the like. It addresses
graphite-epoxy composite overwrapped pressure vessels (COPVs) in a
separate appendix, which requires demonstration of a leak-before-burst
(LBB) failure mode for metal-lined COPVs, non-destructive evaluation
of the composite overwrap, special fluid compatibility testing, and de-
sign/test/pedigree record-keeping in accordance with MIL-STD-1522 [28].
These requirements are for the safety of ground personnel and the public.
For small-diameter lines in particular, static design factors may be as
high as 4.0 and required safe-life may be as long as four expected service
lives.
The very detailed and prescriptive regulations in EWR 127-1 were
consciously relaxed in the new AFSPC manuals, not necessarily with the
intention of raising risk, but rather to change the approach from risk
avoidance to risk management. Some specific materials selection rules
in EWR 127-1 have been deleted from the new manuals. The thinking
behind this is outlined in a National Academy of Engineering study [29].
Quantitative requirements have replaced the “all reasonable precautions”
3
As defined by EWR 127-1, a pressurized system is a system such as a helium storage
bottle that is primarily designed to contain internal pressure, while a pressurized structure is
a system such as a main propellant tank that carries both internal pressure and significant
external loads.
22
language, and the range user is given more discretion in implementation.

This initiative was partly driven by the desire to reduce the cost of range
safety and make the ranges more attractive to commercial users.
Verification and Qualification

A vehicle can meet all design requirements but still fail to deliver the
payload to orbit. Further, because of randomness in material properties,
dimensions and loads, one successful flight of a system does not guarantee
future flights will also succeed. Even in the case of a reusable vehicle,
49 successful flights do not verify the requirements are met if the design
lifetime is 50 flights. The vital question, and one that the materials and
structures engineers must help answer, is whether the next flight will be
successful.
Analysis and review of ground test and previous flight data are neces-
sary, bearing in mind that predictions of future flight performance are at
best a rational extrapolation of experience. The benchmarks determining
whether the system is ready for the next flight are set cooperatively by
the materials and structures engineers, the systems engineers, and others.
Some engineers, notably Sarafin [30] in reference to satellite structures,
refer to these benchmarks as verification criteria rather than requirements.
The distinction is made in order to discourage blind adherence to rules,
because after all, those criteria only represent an educated guess as to
the best way to build confidence in system reliability.
The overall means of qualifying LV structural hardware for flight
may be a contractual mandate, a company policy, or simply tradition,
but the preferred method of qualifying launch vehicle primary structure
will always be a single-article test to limit load times a factor. Other
verifications such as proof testing or analysis are adjuncts to this basic
approach.
Requirements can be so narrowly written that they are really pre-
scribed designs that hold back the state of the art. It would not be
desirable, for instance, to require propellant tanks to be designed to a
one-size-fits-all specification such as that used for rivets. But though
excessively narrow requirements and standards may have been imposed in
areas such as avionics, this was not the case in materials and structures.
The United States Department of Defense abandoned military standards
and even prohibited contracts from citing them as requirements for a time
23
in the 1990s [31]. This was part of a government-wide political initiative

that affected NASA (“better, faster, cheaper”) as well [32]. After a series
of high-profile failures in the late 1990s, procuring agencies concluded
that wholesale abandonment of standards was too extreme, and systems
engineering processes began to reintroduce them [33].
Structural Qualification
In this section, the most commonly used concepts in structural qualifi-
cation are introduced. While terminology varies, these concepts appear
in most government standards concerning structures, and knowing their
meaning is a prerequisite to understanding the various qualification strate-
gies.
Design limit load is the maximum expected in-service load. Programs
may be very precise; a common definition is that limit load is the 99.7
percentile of a distribution of loads that may be generated by analysis,
flight measurements, or both. Such loads are usually generated from a
finite number of samples, so it is often stated additionally that the 99.7
percentile load must be determined to a confidence level of 90%.
Design factors are factors by which limit load is multiplied to determine
the no-yield condition (the load at which the structure must not suffer
detrimental deformation), the proof condition (a load used for acceptance
testing), the no-break condition (the load at which a structure must not
lose its load-carrying capacity, through breakage or instability), and other
hypothetical load levels used in analysis. Design factors are chosen by, or
subject to the approval of, the procuring agency.
Test factors are analogous to design factors but are used to factor up
the limit load for testing purposes, as opposed to design purposes. They
are usually equal to the corresponding design factors, but they do not
have to be. For example, if limit load is 10 tons, and the design ultimate
factor is 1.25, analysis must show that the structure will withstand a load
of 12.5 tons. Most likely an ultimate load test would also specify a load
of 12.5 tons, but it could specify 14 tons or some other factored-up value.
Since limit load already takes quantifiable uncertainties into account,
design and test factors can be viewed as insurance against “unknown
unknowns.”
Capability is a lower bound on the ability of a structure to resist
detrimental deformation and to maintain its load-carrying capacity. It is
24
determined by analysis using material yield and ultimate strengths (which

are lower-bound values) and the least favorable dimensions allowable in
built hardware.
Margin of safety or simply margin, is the fraction by which the
capability exceeds the no-yield or no-break conditions. Thus, continuing
the example above, if the structure is predicted to buckle or break at a
load of 15 tons, the ultimate margin would be
15⁄(1.25x10) – 1 = +22% (7.1)

The sign is customarily shown on a margin even if it is positive. Using
this definition, the capability may be viewed as the load at which the
margin of safety is zero.
The demonstrated load is the load by which the test factors were
multiplied in generating loads during a successful test. Generally, there
are two tiers of design factors: a lower set of values, meant for use on
structures that have been tested, and a higher set, meant for use on
structures that have not been tested. To be entitled to use the lower,
“tested” set of design factors, a structure cannot be exposed to flight
loads in excess of the demonstrated test load. In such situations, the
demonstrated load becomes the allowable load for the structure. Even if
the margin is positive at the allowable load, flight loads must not exceed
it, otherwise the lower design factor is no longer justified.
The demonstrated load is sometimes known as the limit test load, and
the demonstrated load times the ultimate test factor is sometimes known
as the ultimate test load. However, these should not be confused with
design limit and ultimate conditions. The test loads are fixed once the
test has been completed, but the design conditions may vary as knowledge
is gained about the LV.
For an untested structure, the allowable load is the load at which the
margin of safety is zero. In other words, for an untested structure, the
allowable load equals the full capability. In contrast, large test articles
are not usually tested to full capability or to destruction, only to design
limit load or less, thus constraining the flight article to an allowable load
at which ample margin may exist. The “hidden margin” between the
allowable load and the capability of a tested structure is an important fact
to consider when comparing the relative risk of testing versus not testing
a structure. Testing can uncover a dangerous condition that analysis
25
alone might miss, even when higher safety factors are used to compensate
for the lack of testing.
The relationship between the various design conditions, the test and
analysis results, and the design factors and margins is illustrated in
Figure 7.3. This figure shows the predicted flight loads and predicted
failure loads in the form of histograms, which could be generated by
Monte Carlo simulations or from an assumed distribution. For instance,
an individual failure load might be calculated Monte Carlo-style from
random draws of material strength and dimensions from distributions
consistent with sampled test and dimensional data. Or, more commonly,
it may simply be a Gaussian distribution fit to a mean and variance.
Flight loads are more likely than failure loads to be built up from random
underlying contributors, but in principle both can be done that way.
The figure shows the capability as a lower limit on predicted failure
loads, and the design limit load as an upper bound on predicted flight
loads. The illustration shows the typical circumstance in which flight load
predictions are more scattered than failure load predictions. This arises
from greater underlying uncertainty in wind statistics, trajectories, and
other inputs to the loads analysis, as well as uncertainty in the analytical
model itself. It also shows that the capability and limit load do not
enclose every single predicted load, and in that sense they are not truly
bounding values although we call them that for convenience.
The demonstrated limit load is a single value, shown in gray on the
figure. It is typically close to the design limit load. The intent is usually
to test the structure to exactly the limit load, but limit load can change
as new knowledge is gained. Finally, the figure shows that the design
factor provides separation between limit load and the no-fail condition,
and the separation between limit load and the capability is a function of
both the design factor and the margin of safety.
One may hear a statement like the following: “The test article was
loaded to 140% of the no-yield condition, so a tested margin of 40% has
been established.” This is not a correct use of the term margin, because
the test was of a single article that could have been stronger than average.
Margins are based on lower-bound strength, not averages. It would,
however, be correct to say, “The test load was 90% of capability, so there
was a 10% margin of safety during the test.” The capability represents
the lower-bound strength, and the test load is known, so there is no need
26
to account for uncertainty in the load. Therefore, the stated margin of

10% is meaningful.
Figure 7.3: Distributions of predicted loads, failure loads, and the separation
of the two provided by lower-bound capability, upper-bound limit load (LIM ),
chosen design factor (DF), and realized margin of safety (MS). By the author.
Stiffness is as important as strength in LVs. The thin-walled con-

struction, combined with the strength and stiffness properties of typical
materials, tends to render the buckling margins about the same as the
strength margins, and both are always checked. From a material proper-
ties standpoint, stiffness is less variable than strength and is less affected
by temperature and moisture. Therefore, nominal modulus values are
often sufficient, especially for metals.
In composites, a lower-bound stiffness may be obtained by testing
“hot-wet” samples; that is, coupons saturated with moisture and held
at the maximum expected service temperature. But composite stiffness
27
properties that are truly applicable at the scale of a full structure can be
challenging to measure. Specially laid up and cured coupons may have
different microstructure than the full-scale component. Coupons cut out
of a full structure may have damaged edges.
However, analysis for stiffness is less exact, and therefore more conser-
vative, than analysis for strength. The buckling failure mode is the one
most influenced by stiffness. Because the buckling load of a thin-walled
shell is strongly affected by slight geometric imperfections and edge con-
straint, adjustment or “knockdown” factors derived from experiments on
subscale specimens are applied. These factors may lead to a reduction
in the predicted buckling strength of 50% or more, as compared to the
theoretical value for a geometrically perfect shell. Factors documented in
a NASA monograph [34] were originally developed from experiments on
small plastic cylinders. Bushnell comprehensively reviewed the state of
the art in shell buckling analysis through 1980 [35]. Recently, recognizing
the major role played by buckling knockdown factors in vehicle design,
NASA conducted a Shell Buckling Knockdown Factors research program
that was the most significant work in the field in decades and which
experimentally supported a significant refinement and reduction in the
factors [36].
Pitfalls, Controversies and Engineering Judgment

Stated requirements, and the strictness with which they are applied, vary
between programs. Knowing what to require in a particular situation
depends largely on factors specific to each program. Such factors are
neither public nor readily transferable to new situations, so this discussion
is limited to the pros and cons rather than advocacy of particular solutions.
Because primary structure must be qualification-tested to the no-break
condition, if predicted loads increase, for instance due to payload weight
growth, analysis refinements, correction of mistakes, and so on, the
structure must be retested. However, an expensive and time-consuming
retest will only be contemplated if the increase in loads is “significant.”
There may be special provisions for allowing higher loads on a structure
than what it was tested to, possibly using a sliding scale of design factors.
Also, it is sometimes not easy to determine the range of applicability
of a structural test. If a material must be slightly changed from that used
in the test article, is the design with the new material still qualified, or
28
must it be re-tested? From this scenario comes the idea of qualification

by similarity. This refers to a formal process of demonstrating that a
design may be considered test-qualified even though it is not identical
to the test article. A detailed comparison of material, geometry, and
manufacturing differences is necessary, as defined in MIL-HDBK-340 [37].
An example of qualification by similarity occurs when a propellant tank
must be enlarged to meet new mission requirements. The course usually
followed is to “stretch” an existing, qualified design. Often, the stretched
design may be considered test-qualified, even though it is longer than the
original test article. The guiding requirement in such cases is that the
new design must have the same failure modes as the original, with equal
or higher margins of safety.
There is controversy in the definition of primary and secondary struc-
ture and its implications for testing. The fundamental divergence may be
illustrated by considering two structures, A and B. Suppose Structure A
was successfully qualification-tested and has zero margin of safety using
tested design factors. Structure B was not qualification-tested but has
zero margin of safety using higher, no-test design factors. May the two
structures be considered equally acceptable under all circumstances?
One school of thought says that the reliability added by using the
higher, no-test design factors completely compensates for the lack of
testing. Using typical values, consider that a structure with zero ultimate
margin using a design factor of 1.60 would have a margin of 60% if a design
factor of 1.00 were used. From this perspective, a program may elect
not to test some primary structures. The distinction between primary
and secondary is then made mostly on the basis of size: the vehicle
can tolerate “fat” designs of small structures needed to accommodate
no-test design factors, but cannot tolerate fat designs of larger structures.
Therefore, larger structures are tested only to enable the use of lower,
tested design factors. This less conservative viewpoint is characteristic of
programs without heavy involvement of a procuring government agency.
The other school of thought posits that higher safety factors can never
completely compensate for the risk of an analysis shortcoming that would
only be revealed by testing. Therefore, primary (critical, non-redundant)
structure must be qualification-tested, whether or not it has positive
margins using no-test design factors.
Also important is the “hidden margin” discussed previously. There is a
29
long history of success in operating structures qualified by test, but those

structures were usually neither tested nor flown to their full capabilities.
Structures qualified solely by analysis, using a typical no-test design
yield factor of 1.60, have allowable loads 1 − (1/1.60) = 38% lower than
capability. But successfully flown, tested structures were most likely
limited to loads 20% lower than capability simply because they were not
tested to full capability and were limited in flight to the test-demonstrated
load. Therefore, allowable loads for non-tested structures would be not
38% lower than the experience base, but rather only about 18% lower.
The “pad” provided by the no-test factors of safety does not appear quite
so comfortable when viewed this way.
Structures that are nearly always considered primary are:
• Fairings
• Payload fittings and adapters
• Main propellant tanks
• Interstages, intertanks, skirts and transition sections
• Engine thrust structures
Outlook
The level of conservatism that ultimately proves more cost-effective is
different in every case and is what makes structures engineering more
than just a calculation process. It is not surprising that the organization
that bears the cost of testing tends to take a less conservative approach,
whereas the organization that bears the cost of a failed mission tends to
be more conservative. When the same organization bears the costs of
both testing and flight failures, a rational ordering of priorities is forced.
But often, the responsibilities are separated, and the negotiated level
of conservatism is determined by a political process, not an objective
technical one.
Current flight rates are too low to conclusively prove which approaches
are superior. The structural subsystem itself, and especially any single
structure, must have a very remote chance of failure in order for the vehicle
as a whole to have a reasonably small (say, one in a hundred) chance of
failure. It is not uncommon for the required probability of failure for a
particular structure to be on the order of one in a million. Even if a less
conservative approach leads to double the chance of failure (say, 2 × 10−6 )
30
7.5. Pressurized Structure
for a single structure, this will not be empirically distinguishable from

a more conservative approach over the life of a program. The danger
is carrying this thinking over, by inattentive systems engineering or lax
verification of requirements, to every structure. Then, of course, the
vehicle as a whole will have twice the risk of failure.
It has been noted that a truly reusable LV would allow requirements
to be made more rational, as they are in aeronautics, by generating a
large performance database for the same flight article.
A look at launch vehicle failure statistics shows that the overall
demonstrated reliability of LVs worldwide was 96% for the period 1984-
1994 [6]. Of the failures, the propulsion system was by far the leading
cause (27 out of 43 failures).4 Just five out of 43 failures were attributable
to primary structure in that period: a payload fairing failure on a Chinese
CZ-2E, a Centaur liquid oxygen tank failure, and three solid rocket motor
case failures, including the well-known Challenger disaster. Many failures
cause the vehicle structure to be destroyed, but these are usually due to
primary failures in other systems leading to loads in excess of those the
structure was designed to sustain. In such scenarios, the structure is not
considered the root cause of failure.
A probabilistic approach to structural integrity would dispense with
the question of primary versus secondary structure. Instead of using
design factors, in a probabilistic approach, each component would be
assigned a probability of failure considering all sources of uncertainty.
7.5 Pressurized Structure

The majority of material in a space launch vehicle is found in integral load-
bearing propellant tanks. This section is mostly confined to discussion of
materials for the tank shells; tanks also have small parts such as sumps,
lids, and outlets that are subject to different requirements than the shells.
Propellant tanks function as pressure vessels, containing fluids under
moderate pressure and often at cryogenic temperatures. However, unlike
stationary pressure vessels, propellant tanks must sustain large, highly
variable primary flight loads. This has been the case since the early
days of rocketry, when for reasons of weight, external load-bearing shells
protecting tanks from flight loads (as in the V-2) were replaced by
4
I have counted solid rocket motor case failures as structures failures.
31
integral load-bearing tanks. Also, the need to reduce mass has required
that propellant tanks be much more lightly constructed, with far smaller
design factors than stationary pressure vessels. Finally, propellant tanks
in expendable vehicles are operated for only a short time, so long-term,
time-dependent processes such as creep and corrosion are less relevant.
Flynn, in a book covering all aspects of cryogenic engineering, devotes
some discussion of propellant tanks as compared to other applications
of cryogenic technology [38]. He also provides a useful discussion of
cryogenic insulation, which will be discussed later in this chapter.
Government standards such as range safety requirements consider
the main propellant tanks to be “pressurized structures” rather than
pressure vessels (refer to [24] for one formal definition), reserving the
designation of pressure vessel for smaller tanks such as propulsion system
pressurization tanks that do not bear significant external loads. Factors of
safety and other requirements are much different for pressurized structures,
as opposed to pressure vessels.
Propellant tanks are of three basic designs. The commonest is the
stiffened metal shell, structurally stable under the load of its own weight
when empty and unpressurized. Stiffening is generally by integrally
machined stiffeners in an isogrid or orthogrid pattern, rather than by
mechanically fastened stringers. Such designs are constructed of aluminum
alloys. The next most common is the “steel balloon” design, which is very
thin-walled and not structurally stable under the load of its own weight
unless pressurized or stretched. Its stability before fill and pressurization
is maintained by pressurization with an inert gas or by mechanical tension
applied by a holding cradle. This design was most famously applied in
the Atlas missile.
Both the stiffened and balloon-style metal designs may be of a single
tank space, containing either fuel or oxidizer, or combined fuel and
oxidizer tanks separated by a common, dome-shaped internal bulkhead.
The common-bulkhead tank offers mass and size savings over separated
fuel and oxidizer tanks, and has been used in such high-performance upper
stages as the Saturn S-II and S-IVB [39] and the Centaur. A drawback
of this design is the need for the common bulkhead to control heat flow
between two propellants that may be at vastly different temperatures.
The third type of design is the composite tank. Whereas non-
cylindrical shapes would be very difficult to achieve in a mass-efficient
32
manner with metallic shell designs, such shapes are less troublesome
with composites. Also, composite tanks offer potentially significant mass
savings through higher material specific strength and the ability to orient
the primary load-carrying direction of a composite laminate along the
expected loading direction. Composites also offer better resistance to fa-
tigue and flaw propagation, because microscopic flaws tend to be blunted
and stopped by the fibrous microstructure, although accumulated fatigue
damage can result in increased permeation of propellant. With all these
advantages, much effort has been expended on realizing an operational
composite propellant tank, but to date, successes have been small in
number.
All tank designs must perform the basic function of containing the
liquid propellants during testing, fueling and flight. Propellants vary from
RP-1, a highly refined kerosene, to cryogenic liquid oxygen (LOX) and
liquid hydrogen (LH2 ), to storable but often toxic combinations such as
hydrazine and nitrogen tetroxide. All have properties that constrain the
designer’s choice of propellant tank materials, and cryogenic propellants
require that the tank be insulated to minimize boil-off.
In almost all cases, tanks must sustain aerodynamic and inertial flight
loads, which for the typical long, cylindrical tank means a combination of
axial compression and bending. The Space Shuttle external LOX tank is
a special case in that it receives axial aerodynamic loading directly due
to its position at the forward end of the tank assembly. Inside the tank,
various baffles and propellant management devices must be supported.
Finally, depending on the tank’s location in the vehicle, main propellant
feedlines and electrical tunnels must be supported, either as an external
appendage or through centerline tunnels as in the Saturn S-IC stage [39].
The tank contents must be fed to the engines under pressure. For a
pressure-fed propulsion system, propellants are forced directly into the
combustion chamber by ullage pressure. The ullage is the unfilled space
at the forward end of the tank. For pump-fed engines, moderate pressure
is still necessary in order to prevent cavitation in feedlines. Just prior to
launch, large tanks are pressurized using a ground supply of gas; once
the booster engines have been started, the gas supply may be provided
by the engines through a re-pressurization system. For smaller stages, an
onboard supply of inert pressurant is often used.
It is worth recalling the basic relationship between load and internal
33
forces for a pressurized thin-walled cylinder subject to an external com-

pressive force P0 and bending moment M0 at the tank bottom. (Shear
force is usually not significant when considering the overall section forces
acting on a launch vehicle.) For increased generality, suppose the cylin-
der contains a quantity of liquid of density ρ and that it is accelerating
forward at a rate a.
The tank and its contents together do not form a continuous elastic
body, so they must be analyzed separately. The pressure at a distance z
below the free surface of the liquid is
p(z) = ρz(a + g) + pull , (7.2)

where pull is the ullage pressure and g is the acceleration of gravity.
A separate free-body diagram shows that the axial compressive force
in the tank shell at location z is
P̄ (z) = P0 − m(z)a − πR2 ρh(a + g) − πR2 pull , (7.3)

where h is the total height of the liquid in the tank, R is the tank radius
and m(z) is the mass of the tank aft of location z. Part or all of the force
P = P0 − m(z)a − πR2 ρh(a + g) may be provided by a separate loads
analysis. It may include, additionally, vibratory effects and other terms
not shown in this simple analysis. Consider the typical case where the
force is given in the form
P̄ (z) = P − πR2 pull . (7.4)

The bending moment at all locations, assuming for simplicity no lateral
forces or angular acceleration, is M = M0 .
Bending stresses due to the moment load M are calculated as though
the tank were a slender, hollow beam of wall thickness t. The longitudinal
stress has its maximum (highest tensile) value at one of the two points on
the cross section farthest from the bending axis, and its minimum (highest
compressive) value at the other such point. The largest longitudinal
compressive stress is
σz,comp (z) = − ̅P(z) − M (7.5)

2πRt πR2t
=− P − M + pull R (7.6)
2πRt πR2t 2t
34
and the largest longitudinal tensile stress is

σz,tens (z) = − P + M + pull R (7.7)
2πRt πR2t 2t
The hoop stress is
σθ (z) = [ρz(a+g) + pull]R (7.8)
t
The quantities
P+eq = P +2M/R and P-eq = P – 2M/R (7.9)
are called equivalent axial loads [40], and in terms of them the
longitudinal stresses are
σz,comp (z) = - P+eq + pullR (7.10)

2πRt 2t
σz,tens (z) = - P-eq + pullR (7.11)
2πRt 2t
In the preceding σ represents the average stress over the wall thickness.
Often, a local analysis that considers the variation of stress between the
skin and the stringers or the core and face sheets of a built up wall
needed. In such cases it is useful to work in terms of q, the integral of
stress over the wall thickness:
q (z,comp) = - P+eq + pullR (7.12)

2πR 2
q(z,tens) = - P-eq + pullR (7.13)
2πR 2
qθ = [ρz(a – g) + pull ]R (7.14)
The quantity q is called the line load or tensile flux. Note that in all of
the above development, axial force is taken as positive in compression.
These equations apply to large tanks and cylindrical adapters except
where local irregularities or constraints render the underlying assumptions
invalid. For a structure such as an adapter or interstage that contains no
liquid, the terms containing density may be deleted. However, internal
pressure in such structures may be important. Consider that an adapter
35
with a radius of 100 inches and a wall thickness of 0.2 inches will experience
a longitudinal wall stress of 0.25 ksi for every psi of internal pressure.
From Equations (7.8), (7.10) and (7.11), we see that in the absence
of external load and static head, the state of stress in the membrane is
biaxial with a hoop-to-longitudinal ratio of two. External loads will cause
this ratio to vary significantly from two. Conventionally, material strength
is determined from uniaxial tensile tests, and then a combined-stress yield
theory such as the Mises theory is used to calculated a scalar effective
stress from the actual biaxial state of stress in the application. Although
a large amount of experimental effort has been directed toward gaining a
more sophisticated understanding of metal yielding and rupture under
biaxial stresses (see [41] for example), the results seem to be little used
today.
The use of the maximum principal stress failure criterion for metals is
near-universal, but consider that a ductile material has a higher ultimate
stress than its strength at rupture. In fact, for some high-strength steels,
the stress is higher at the offset yield point than at any subsequent
time [41]. Though maximum principal stress correlates very well to
rupture strength, it is possible that ultimate stress, which is the material
property customarily used to indicate failure, might be predicted better
by alternative criteria.
The foregoing discussion only addresses strength. Tanks may also
fail by global or local buckling, or by the fracture of a flaw at far-field
stresses below yield. In practice, the margin of safety tends to be about
the same for strength and buckling failures. The fracture failure mode,
which is managed by controlling the initial flaw size, may not be close to
the others in criticality.
Proof pressure testing is usually required, if not by the procuring
agency, then by the range safety organization. Pressure testing at cryo-
genic temperatures is very expensive, so proof testing is usually done with
room-temperature nitrogen gas or water. The ratio of yield to ultimate
strength, and the fracture toughness, of many materials is different at
room temperature than at the service temperature. Thus, it is not a
trivial problem to devise a room-temperature proof test that exercises all
failure modes of a cryogenic propellant tank adequately.
Designing for light weight requires that the structure be quite thin-
walled. Thicknesses (or effective thicknesses, in the case of stiffened
36
structure) can be on the order of one tenth of an inch for a section 200
inches in diameter (R/t = 2000). For comparison, a soda-pop can has
R/t ≈ 1000.
Methods of flaw screening over large areas are usually sensitive enough
to allow very small initial flaws to be assumed in the safe-life analysis
and thus to provide ample safe life.5 Automation of flaw screening can
be developed during production planning. Years ago, flaw screening was
provided via proof test; a flaw that could survive the proof test without
catastrophic propagation was considered very likely to survive flight as
well. This was usually performed on pressure vessels, and pressurized
structures. A more rigorous screen may (depending on the material) be
provided by a proof test at cryogenic temperatures. For many materials,
at colder temperatures the yield strength increases, permitting testing
to a higher pressure, and the fracture toughness decreases, reducing the
margin against catastrophic flaw growth.
Methods of flaw detection include dye penetrants, ultrasound, x-
ray, magnetic particles, and eddy current inspection. The inspection
method is chosen based on cost, the required sensitivity, the accessibility
of the area to be inspected, surface finish and coating/plating, and
the material. MSFC-STD-1249 [42] is an oft-cited standard covering
inspection methods.
Some materials have high fracture toughness relative to yield strength,
so a larger flaw can be tolerated. The ratio of toughness to yield strength
is significant due to the need to restrict stress levels below yield strength.
Conversely, a high-yield-strength material with low fracture toughness
will need to be screened for very small flaws, which is the case with some
high strength steels with low ductility.
In some cases, when hardware is received, it is found to have been
inadequately inspected, or the results of the inspection may show that
the design intent was not met. It may prove faster and cheaper to con-
duct additional analysis, inspection and testing to accept the discrepant
hardware than to scrap the structure and manufacture a new one.
5
This discussion provided by John Hilgendorf, Structural Analysis Lead for Delta II,
United Launch Alliance.
37
The Leak-Before-Burst Criterion

It is usually required that pressure vessels and pressurized structures
satisfy the “leak-before-burst” (LBB) criterion. The LBB concept is found
in all industries that use pressure vessels, including aerospace, energy, and
ground transportation. A definition given in a commonly cited military
standard [28] is “a fracture mechanics concept in which it is shown that
any initial flaw will grow through the wall of a pressure vessel and cause
leakage rather than burst.” The purpose is to prevent catastrophic or
explosive failures of pressure vessels or pressurized structures that may
damage nearby flight hardware and launch facilities, or injure personnel.
In flight, a tank that has the LBB property may fail gradually enough that
the mission can still be completed. It also provides time to depressurize
or safe the system once a detectable leak has occurred.
If all pressure vessels in a system are held to the LBB standard, safety
rules and nearby systems need not be designed to withstand an explosive,
catastrophic failure. This saves money.
The LBB property may be verified by testing, analysis, or a combina-
tion of the two. A burst test that results in gradual leakage rather than
sudden rupture is a demonstration of LBB. However, a test of a single
article is of limited use unless it can be shown that an initial flaw not
obviously detectable existed in a critical location. Analysis is necessary
to determine the worst-case location and orientation. Flaws may be
intentionally introduced into the test article to cause leakage to occur
first at a location of interest.
Analytically, to demonstrate LBB, it must be shown that the vessel
can withstand the expected operating pressure when a leaking (through-
wall) flaw exists. Said differently, a crack growth analysis must show that
the critical flaw size is larger than the wall thickness.
Stable Metal Tanks

Structurally stable metal tanks are the most common design. Historically,
2000-series aluminum alloy has been by far the most popular material
in this application, although recently, lighter aluminum-lithium (Al-Li)
alloys have been used. For relatively slender tanks, the cylindrical tank
barrel may be formed as a single ring if small enough, but more commonly
it is built up from panels. The end domes are usually spun and may be
38
of a different temper from the barrel. The barrel and domes are joined
by welding. Squat tanks such as the S-II stage LOX tank have been laid
out completely as domes welded from gores, with no cylindrical section.
Large domes may be produced by explosive forming, as in the S-II stage
[39]. Mynors and Zhang [43] discussed the widespread use of explosive
forming in the 1970s, detailed the advantages and disadvantages, and
described a research program exploring potential modern applications.
Small end closures may be present at the apex of the domes, and these
are usually bolted on so that they may be removed if necessary.
Barrel panels are stiffened either with extruded stringers or with
integrally machined stiffeners. The integrally machined designs demand
that plate be available in fairly thick gauges (one inch or more). Stiffeners
may be created by machining or chemically milling pockets into a thick
plate. The machining process leaves thickened weld lands, which are
necessary because welds are not as strong as the as-machined metal.
Machining of stiffeners is conducted when the panel is still flat, as a
rule. Once machined, the panels are bump-formed or brake-formed into
cylindrical arcs and then welded into a barrel of circular cross section. To
avoid local buckling of ribs during forming, the machined pockets may
be filled with a thermoplastic compound, then round the panel after the
compound has cooled and hardened. The hardened compound provides
stability to the thin ribs. After forming, the compound is melted out [44].
Because of the large amount of material that is removed, integrally
machining the stiffeners may result in a scrap ratio of as much as 80%.
This can be a significant cost for the more expensive alloys, and has been
a motivation to attempt to produce Al-Li panels with extruded rather
than machined stiffeners [45].
The isogrid pattern [46], in which the integral stiffeners are a network of
equilateral triangles, is by far the most popular of the integrally stiffened
tank wall designs. It offers the stiffness and mass efficiency of other
stiffener patterns but preserves the large-scale isotropic behavior of the
panels, so that they may be modeled as shells with “equivalent isotropic”
properties. While the simplifications made possible by isotropic behavior
may not appear to be very advantageous in detailed stress analysis, when
rapid iterations must be done in design trade studies, isotropic behavior
is a significant benefit. Meyer et al. [46] provided the definitive work on
isogrid design and stress analysis.
39
The stiffening of tank walls by integrally machined stiffeners increases

both the extensional and the bending stiffness of the walls. This improves
the buckling (particularly the local buckling) resistance and the ability
to withstand concentrated loads perpendicular to the shell surface at
openings or attachments. The same principle is followed for structures
other than tanks, where integral ribs or mechanically attached stringers,
corrugation, or sandwich construction may be used.
Propellant tank barrels and domes are invariably joined by welding,
but welding is challenging in this application because of the relatively
thin material and the tapered thicknesses that are used to save weight.
Weld schedule development is time-consuming and external support is
usually necessary to avoid distorting the shell due to the required heat
input. Mendez and Eagar [47] provide an overview of the state of the art
in aerospace welding technology; a more detailed discussion is presented
in the section on manufacturing later in this chapter.
The 2000 series of aluminum alloys has historically been the mate-
rial of choice for stable tank designs and remains dominant, although
in the last 10-15 years, the Al-Li alloys have also become significant.
Chapter 2 covers aluminum alloys in detail. The 2000-series alloys are
aluminum-copper alloys with the percent of copper varying from 0.9% to
6.3%. In these alloys, the intermetallic compound CuAl2 serves as the
primary strengthening ingredient. Silicon and lithium are added to allow
room-temperature age hardening, as well as improve the forgeability and
strength. Trace amounts of manganese, magnesium and titanium are
present to refine the grain and inhibit stress corrosion [48]. Alloys for tank
applications must be weldable, so that large barrels can be built up from
smaller panels, and their strengths must be insensitive to notching at
cryogenic temperatures. The 2000-series alloys were the highest-strength
weldable alloys available for many years. Higher-strength alloys such as
the 7000-series are available, but their poor weldability and cryogenic
notch toughness relegates them to use in interstages, where they are
assembled using fasteners and not subject to extremely low temperatures
[49].
A very popular tank material is Alloy 2219, a high-strength, weldable
aluminum alloy whose principal alloying element is copper (6.3%) [50].
It has been the primary tank structural material in the Saturn S-IC
stage [49], and the standard-weight and lightweight (LWT) Space Shuttle
40
External Tank designs [51].

Alloy 2219 is a wrought, heat-treatable, precipitation-hardening alloy
developed by Alcoa in 1954 for high-temperature structural applications
[50]. However, its excellent properties at cryogenic temperatures are what
makes it attractive for LV tanks. Its full strength is developed by solution
heat treatment followed by aging. Cold work may be applied before aging
to further enhance the precipitation hardening process. Reheat of clad
grades (not commonly used in LVs) may reduce the alloy’s resistance to
stress corrosion.
The most widely used temper of 2219 in LV tankage is T87. In this
grade, in-plane A-basis ultimate tensile strengths are 63-64 ksi, with
B-basis strengths only about 1 ksi lower, indicating very good control
of strength variability. Yield strengths are around 51 ksi. Elongation
to break is 6-7% for the thinner gauges of plate. As with all aluminum
alloys, the elastic modulus is around 10.5×106 psi, one-third that of
steel, so significant springback often occurs in cold-formed parts. Very
thick Alloy 2219 shapes have lower yield and ultimate strengths than
thinner ones. Thickness at the time of solution heat treatment, not the
final machined thickness, should be taken into account when establishing
design allowables.
The tensile strength of aluminum alloys is increased by cryogenic
temperatures. For example, at LOX temperature (−297 ◦ F), 2219-T87’s
ultimate and yield strengths are 20% higher than at room temperature.
At LH2 temperature (−423 ◦ F), the strengths are more than 30% higher.
This increase in strength is frequently taken credit for in design margin
calculations. However, large, thin-walled tanks may buckle at a lower
compressive load than that necessary to cause a failure in strength. In
such cases, it is the cryogenic elastic modulus, not the cryogenic strength,
that determines the compression capability of the tank. The increase in
modulus is not as impressive as the increase in strength; for 2219-T87, it
is only about 10% at LH2 temperature [8].
One problem associated with the use of Alloy 2219 has been the
difficulty of chem-milling in the T3 temper. This problem was encountered
with the hydraulic bulge-formed and chem-milled dome gores of the S-
IC, and ultimately led the designers of the Shuttle External Tank to
abandon chem milling and adopt the more capital-intensive, but easier
to control, stretch forming process [51]. Alloy 2219 is also subject to
41
surface corrosion, especially in the clad grades. It was found that foam
insulation on a 2219 substrate resulted in collection of a chloride-rich
liquid in the salt air environment of the southern United States which
caused extensive corrosion after exposure of many months [51].
The other workhorse aluminum alloy for stable tank designs is 2014.
Alloy 2014 has copper as a principal alloying element (4.4%) but at a
lower level than 2219 (6.3%) [52]. It was developed in 1928 primarily for
use in aircraft structures as forgings and extrusions; for LV tanks, the
sheet or plate forms are used. Alloy 2014 generally has higher strength
than 2219: in the T6 temper, its A-basis tensile strength is 64-67 ksi, a
few percent stronger than 2219 [8].
Alloy 2014 is a precipitation-hardening alloy. Unlike the widely used
2219-T87 grade, commercial tempers of 2014 are not cold-worked. As
with 2219, considerable springback may occur after cold forming, and
this is typically corrected by “overforming” [52]. Both 2219 and 2014 are
easily machinable, which is important in designs with integrally machined
stiffeners.
Alloy 2014 has been used in the Titan II booster, the Saturn S-II
stage, and the Saturn S-IVB stage [49]. The Saturn I, designed in the
late 1950s, used the Al-Mg alloys 5456 and 5083, but these are rarely
considered any more due to their lower cold notch toughness, and greater
susceptibility to corrosion. However, they are more weldable than the
2000-series alloys. That is, they lose proportionately less strength and
ductility in the welded condition [49]. Both 5456 and 2014 appear to have
been early candidates for the S-IC stage [53], but 2219 was ultimately
selected. Another aluminum alloy, 6061, was used on the Agena tanks [54];
while this alloy still has some applications in other vehicle structures, it
is no longer used for tanks.
Welding processes for tanks have an influence on materials selection.
Historically, most tanks have been fusion-welded. The S-IC stage used
gas tungsten-arc welding (GTAW) to join 2219 panels [51], a practice
that continues to be popular. More recently, plasma arc welding has been
implemented. Variable-polarity plasma arc (VPPA) welding, in which the
arc polarity is periodically changed to reduce the accumulation of dross,
was successfully implemented on the Shuttle ET and Delta IV programs
and has also been used to join Al-Li alloys [55]. The large Soviet/Russian
Energia booster used electron-beam welding in its tanks [2].
42
Within the last ten years the development of friction stir welding
(FSW) has been a major advance in tank manufacturing. FSW was devel-
oped in the 1990s and is now used in production on several LVs. In this
process, a rapidly rotating pin moves along the weld lands, mixing clean
base metal, which welds spontaneously. It produces a higher-strength
and higher-ductility joint than fusion welding because the material is
never melted [56]. FSW is particularly attractive for aluminum alloys
because of their low hardness. FSW was introduced into production on
the Delta II program in 1997 [55]. But FSW is more sensitive to weld
land alignment deviations than fusion welding.
Aside from 2000-series aluminum alloys, the material with the widest
current application to propellant tanks is the aluminum-lithium (Al-Li)
series of alloys. These alloys contain only a small amount of Li by weight
(about 1%), less than their Cu content of 2-4%, but they are known as
Al-Li alloys to contrast them with non Li-containing alloys. An Al-Li
alloy was developed specifically for aerospace applications as early as
the 1950s, but problems with fatigue, fracture and weldability precluded
its widespread use in the United States until the 1990s [51]. While all
wrought alloys are anisotropic in strength and stiffness to some degree,
Al-Li is anisotropic enough that it must be structurally analyzed as such.
One study found that 2195 Al-Li extrusions [57] had direct and off-axis
strengths differing by as much as 20% depending on the depth through
the section.
In the early 1990s, funding became available for a major redesign of the
Shuttle ET with the primary goal of reducing weight. Weight reduction
became necessary when it was decided that the ISS would be put into a
high-inclination orbit accessible to Russian launchers; the Shuttle then
had to reduce its empty weight to be able to reach the ISS. A series of
weldable Al-Li alloys under the Weldalite trade name was available to
Lockheed Martin, prime contractor for the ET. The redesigned tank was
given the abbreviation SLWT, for super-lightweight tank.
The Al-Li alloy 2195 ultimately selected for parts of the SLWT is
lighter than the formerly used Alloy 2219, but has yield strength about
20% higher at both ambient and cryogenic temperatures [12]. It is
also about 8% stiffer than 2219. However, 2195 is less formable in the
T3 condition than 2219, so an early attempt to simply drop it in as
a replacement for 2219 resulted in damaged forming equipment. The
43
remedy was to solution treat and quench the 2195 into the T0 condition,
then stretch form and shape to the T3 condition, and finally age to the
T8 condition [51]. Alloy 2195 is also less ductile than the 2000-series
aluminum alloys. Ultimately, all of the ET tank barrels as well as the
intertank thrust panels were changed to Al-Li.
It was also found that fusion welds on Al-Li were more susceptible to
hot cracking than on 2219, and that the subsequent repairs were more
difficult. Process changes involving a smaller heat load, a backside inert
gas purge, and weld bead planishing were necessary to enable the needed
repairs [51]. However, weld quality concerns led Marshall Space Flight
Center to investigation FSW for the Al-Li tank components. FSW was
implemented on the ET starting in 2002.
Other applications of Al-Li have been the DC-XA and X-33 research
vehicles. In both cases, composites were used for the LH2 tanks, but Al-Li
was used for the LOX tanks. Composite LOX tanks require a protective
liner, typically a halogenated polymer, to reduce the chance of ignition
[58]. The DC-XA LOX Tank was built in Russia from Al-Li alloy 1460
[59].
The Ares I upper stage was a structurally stable, common-bulkhead
propellant tank design with friction stir-welded Al-Li 2195 tank barrels
and domes. The common bulkhead was a sandwich construction consisting
of 2014 facesheets enclosing a phenolic honeycomb core. The bulkhead
was to be joined to the barrels by a 2219 Y-ring [60].
In a pump-fed stage, the propellant is held under low pressure in
the tanks, then pumped to the injection pressure after it has left the
tank. The tanks therefore may be constructed lightly, and stresses due to
external flight loading are comparable to those due to internal pressure.
In contrast, pressure-fed stages do not have pumps; the propellants are
forced into the engine by holding them under high pressure in the tanks.
This type of design is used when simplicity and reliability are paramount.
Injection pressures for pump-fed engines may be several thousand psi,
which would require inordinately heavy tankage. But pressure-fed systems
are designed to require only moderate injection pressures. While this is
higher than the tank pressure in a pump-fed stage, it is low enough that
the tank can be flight-worthy at an acceptable weight. Stresses in tanks
for pressure-fed stages are dominated by internal pressure loads.
Some pressure-fed designs have used internal bladders to expel pro-
44
pellant from the tank rather than externally supplied gas. Many basic
design and materials selection aspects are discussed in [54]. Pope and
Penner [61] described testing of multilayered bladder materials consist-
ing of various arrangements of polyethylene terephthalate (PET) film,
composite balloon film, aramid film and polyimide film. They found
through subscale testing that a PET-balloon film fabric provided good
performance under cryogenic conditions, with the lowest permeability.
Gleich and L’Hommedieu [62] performed similar studies on wire-reinforced
metallic bladders of annealed austenitic stainless steel.
Calabro et al. [63], in the course of system studies for an advanced
pressure-fed cryogenic upper stage, proposed combining a 2219 aluminum
LOx tank with a filament-wound graphite-epoxy LH2 tank in a common-
bulkhead design. The LH2 tank used an internal aluminum foil liner.
The working pressure was 270 psi. Thermal insulation was provided by
externally applied polyurethane foam.
Many LVs use hydrogen as a propellant in the booster, the upper
stages, or both, so the compatibility of materials with hydrogen must
be thoroughly understood. Cataldo [64] summarized the findings of
several research programs investigating hydrogen embrittlement in high-
pressure storage tanks, fasteners, and weldments. Although the focus
was on titanium alloys and Inconel 718, useful information is provided
on a wide variety of aerospace metals. High pressure was not always a
necessary condition for problems with hydrogen compatibility. Hydrogen
embrittlement of metallic materials is discussed in Chapter 2.
Balloon Tanks
The Atlas vehicle designed by K.E. Bossart at Convair Division of General
Dynamics in the early 1950s is exemplary of this type of design. The
other notable application is the Centaur upper stage, also developed
by General Dynamics. The Atlas maintained the balloon tank design
through several ICBM variants, the early Atlas E and F space launch
vehicles, and the Atlas I, II and III commercial space launchers. The
Centaur stage still uses the balloon tank design. Balloon tanks require
either mechanical tension (“stretch”) or internal pressure to keep them
from collapsing under their own weight prior to operation. In operation,
the pressure required for propellant feed is sufficient to keep the tank
stable under flight loads. The following information is taken primarily
45
from the review by Martin [65].
Figure 7.4: The Atlas launch vehicle carrying John Glenn to orbit. The balloon
propellant tanks can be seen; the LOX tank is forward and covered with frost,
while the fuel tank is aft and its shiny stainless steel skin is clearly visible.
Public-domain photo by NASA.
Balloon tanks have very thin walls (as thin as 0.01 inch, thinner
than three sheets of copier paper) and are built from corrosion-resistant
steel. In the Atlas and Centaur, most of the tank skins are made from
stainless steel Alloy 301 in the extra full-hard (EFH) grade. Skins that
must be formed into a shape other than a circular cylinder, such as
conical transitions or domes, are made from 1/2 and 3/4 hard grades,
for improved formability. Because the tank walls are so thin, machined
reinforcing rings must be placed at locations where external hardware
such as feedlines, electrical tunnels, or strap-on booster rockets must be
attached. These rings are made from 321 stainless steel, because it is
46
more machinable than 301. Both 301 and 321 are austenitic stainless
steels, whose primary alloying elements are chromium and nickel.
In the very early phase of ICBM development, a vehicle was designed
using the balloon tank concept but with aluminum instead of steel as the
material. However, comparing the specific strength of 2219 aluminum
and 301 EFH stainless steel at LOX temperature,
A-basis Yield Density Specific Strength

Alloy (ksi) (lb/in3 ) (ksi/(lb/in3 ))
2219-T87 60 0.103 583
301 EFH 200 0.286 699
it can be seen that 301 stainless steel offers an advantage, especially in

the EFH condition and at cryogenic temperatures. Also, aerodynamic
heating of the skin must be considered. The Atlas missile was designed
as an ICBM and had to be able to withstand a depressed trajectory that
resulted in skin temperatures as high as 700 ◦ F. At this temperature, the
stainless steel loses only 17% of its room-temperature strength, while the
aluminum loses more than 80% of its strength. Aluminum could only be
used if it were highly insulated, at an inert mass penalty.
The 10-foot diameter Atlas balloon tank barrels were constructed
from stubby bands 32 inches high. The bands were “stovepiped” together
(i.e. inserted into one another a short distance), resistance seam-welded,
and then spot-welded on both sides of the seam weld for added strength.
The longitudinal welds in the bands and dome gores were resistance butt-
welded, and then a doubler was applied with several rows of spot-
welds. No filler material was used in the resistance welds, although it was
found that placing nickel foil between the workpieces produced stronger
spot-welds.
Composite Tanks
While light weight is always a major goal in the design of aerospace struc-
tures, it is especially important in launch vehicle stages that ultimately
will be propelled to orbit. In staged vehicles, the inert weight of boosters
is jettisoned once the booster’s fuel supply is exhausted. However, the
orbital stage is not jettisoned, so there is a very high motivation to keep
47
its inert mass to the absolute minimum. Every pound of inert mass on
an orbited stage is one less pound of payload that can be carried.
The vision of a reusable, single-stage-to-orbit (SSTO) vehicle with
airliner-like operations has existed since the earliest speculations about
space travel. Such a vehicle would have no jettisonable boosters, with
all of its inert mass propelled into orbit, re-entering the atmosphere,
and returning to Earth to land. Therefore, structural mass efficiency is
paramount. Barring unforeseen developments in propulsion technology,
any SSTO vehicle must have a structure that is at the absolute maximum
efficiency possible with known materials.
The imperative to minimize inert mass has been one of the major
reasons so much research effort has been directed toward composites, the
other major reason being the ability to fabricate complex cross-sectional
shapes with inexpensive tooling and processes. The tensile strength-to-
weight ratio of graphite fibers is many times that of the aluminum alloys
and steels typically used in propellant tanks.
But the raw tensile strength-to-weight value that is so favorable for
graphite fibers can be misleading. To produce a useful structure, the fibers
must be incorporated into a matrix; this decreases the tensile strength by
about 50% and adds the weight of the matrix, which carries little load.
Also, unlike a true pressure vessel, the skin of a pressurized structure will
not always be in tension. Compression loading raises the possibility of
buckling. While composites with elastic moduli several times that of an
equivalent-weight metal design may be produced, it is difficult to control
the geometric imperfections that are so damaging to buckling resistance.
The polymeric matrix of conventional composites places an upper limit
on the service temperature. Conventional graphite-epoxy composites lose
strength and stiffness rapidly when temperatures reach 200 ◦ F to 300 ◦F,
due to softening of the matrix. Thus, composite tanks must be insulated
or protected from skin heating by trajectory limitations. This is especially
constraining to the design when the trajectory includes re-entry, as it does
for a reusable vehicle. Improvements in both thermoplastic and thermoset
matrix materials are potentially a means of raising the temperature limit.
Also, especially for tanks of complex shape, reinforced joints are
necessary. The need to reinforce these joints and to insulate a composite
tank against aerodynamic heating tends to erode the weight advantage
over a metal tank. It has been stated that a composite tank can represent
48
a 20-40% weight saving compared to an equivalent metal tank [66, 67].

In the specific case of the DC-XA, NASA claimed in a press release that
the composite LH2 tank was 37% lighter than the metal tank used on its
predecessor, the DC-X [68].
The vast majority of the composite experience base has been with
laminates; that is, panels built up from several layers of material manufac-
tured in a previous process. The challenges of joining laminated panels,
and their poor interlaminar strength, has led to an interest in braided,
woven and knitted textile preforms manufactured by resin transfer mold-
ing (RTM) and resin film infusion (RFI) [69]. These preforms offer a way
to join laminated panels without a subsequent bonding process or discrete
fasteners. They can also be used to fabricate braces and bulkheads that
are not panel-like in geometry.
As stated in the previous section, composites were first applied to LH2
tankage. Since that time, composite tanks compatible with LOX have
been developed, but a protective liner separating the composite walls
from the LOX was necessary to reduce the potential for ignition [58].
LOX may also chemically degrade the matrix, through oxidation.
The National Aero-Space Plane (NASP) or X-30, a SSTO system
contemplated in the 1980s, sought to use composite liquid hydrogen
tanks. Hartunian [70] recounted something that often occurs in high-risk
developments: despite plans laid by knowledgeable people, significant
technical challenges do not come to light until some work is actually done.
In the case of the NASP tank, scaling the concept up from laboratory
scale to production scale introduced some difficulties. The IM7/PEEK
composite initially identified as the one with the best resistance to mi-
crocracking could not be scaled up. The cure temperature and pressure,
and the required cooling rates, could be achieved at small scale but not
at production scale. After the failure to cure the production-scale tank,
the engineers changed the PEEK matrix to 8551-7A epoxy. The epoxy
matrix design was successfully fill/drain cycled, but the program was
canceled for other reasons.
Two more recent programs intended to advance the state of the SSTO
art were the DC-XA and the X-33 suborbital technology demonstrators.
These programs used composite cryogenic propellant tanks. The DC-XA
vehicle flew twice, with the composite tank performing satisfactorily [71],
while the X-33 never flew, largely due to development difficulties with its
49
composite LH2 propellant tank, including a major test failure.

Most of the interest in composites for propellant tank applications
has centered around graphite-epoxy. Both the DC-XA and the X-33
used graphite-epoxy tanks, and the DC-XA also used a composite LH2
feedline. In addition, the DC-XA used a composite intertank structure.
The composite structures on the DC-XA were developed with the aid of
rapid prototying methods [69].
The X-33 tank was a sandwich design with graphite-epoxy facesheets
and an aramid-reinforced phenolic honeycomb core. The core contained
empty spaces that were not vented. The X-33’s development difficulties
and 1999 test failure have strongly influenced research in the field since
that time. An overview of that design and failure is now presented as
a way to introduce the key materials and structures issues involved in
composite cryogenic tanks.
Aerodynamics forced the X-33 tank to be structurally much more
complex than typical LV tankage. It consisted of a lobed outer barrel
constructed from composite sandwich, and monolithic composite internal
stiffening frames (Figure 7.5). In addition, bulkheads and thrust tubes
were attached to support primary structural, landing gear and control
surface loads. The X-33 tank could almost be considered a composite
fuselage filled with LH2 .
The X-33 tank was in the process of being qualified in a protoflight
program. This entails testing the actual flight article to load levels
higher than the maximum expected flight loads, but not as high as a
single dedicated test article would be subjected to. The tank had been
cryogenically cycled three times, subjected to proof pressure while filled
with LH2 and then subjected to one external test load case while filled.
A few minutes after the tank had been drained, it suffered a catastrophic
delamination.
It was found that cold gaseous hydrogen had entered the sandwich
core from the inner volume of the tank by permeating the inner facesheet.
At the same time, ambient nitrogen gas was drawn into the core through
the outer facesheet. The permeation processes were abetted due to the
strain induced by the test pressure and loads, combined with the low
temperatures, which caused leak paths to develop. As the tank cooled to
LH2 temperature as it was filled, the trapped gases condensed into liquids,
creating a partial vacuum that drew additional gases into the core. Upon
50
Figure 7.5: The X-33 liquid hydrogen tank on a test stand at NASA Plum
Brook Station, Sandusky, Ohio. Note the complex, lobed shape of the tank.
Public-domain photo by NASA.
draining, the tank began to warm to room temperature, and the pressure
in the core rose as the liquefied hydrogen and nitrogen warmed up and
began to evaporate. The pressure resulted in a sudden debond of the
entire area of the inner facesheet. A pre-existing bondline flaw, in the
form of a piece of slippery tape found between the core and facesheet,
probably contributed to the failure.
This failure mode is called cryopumping. Generally, in the context
of aerospace structures, cryopumping refers to the condensation of gas
in a void and the drawing in and condensation of additional gas due to
the lowered pressure in the void, followed by the possibly destructive
rapid venting of the gas upon reheating. In cellular insulations such as
polymeric foam, cryopumping occurs when the insulation is cooled by
contact with a tank filled with cryogenic propellant, then heated as the
51
vehicle ascends, the tank empties, and aerodynamic friction heats the
insulation. Liquid air condensed in voids in the foam is vaporized and
will blow a hole in the foam if it cannot gradually vent.
Cryopumping was a known condition that the X-33 design was sup-
posed to accommodate, and the failed core in fact had a measured
cryopumping pressure that was lower than the design value, but local,
unobservable peaks in the pressure may have exceeded the bondline capa-
bility. Despite ultrasonic NDI, the PTFE tape, as well as other debonded
areas, were not detected prior to testing. They were only observed after
the test article had failed. The possibility of manufacturing flaws difficult
to screen by inspection or proof testing has always been a disadvantage
of composites, especially in sandwich constructions.
It is a mistake to conclude that the X-33 failure proves composite
tanks can never work, because that particular application was much more
demanding than conventional applications. It is known that thermome-
chanical cycling, which is much more severe on a reusable vehicle like the
X-33 than on an expendable, is the primary driver of permeation and
leaking. After all, composite filament-wound, monocoque solid rocket
motor cases have been successfully used for years, and mechanically they
are similar to liquid propellant tanks. However, composites are not as
clean a solution as they might appear to be from a naive conception of
their raw material properties. In particular, the need to characterize and
control permeability without the use of a liner has been the thrust of
much recent research in composite tanks.
During and after the X-33 program, several research projects have
sought to improve the performance of composites in cryotank applications.
Heydenreich [72] described system studies carried on in Europe to establish
which tankage applications could most benefit from the use of composites.
He pointed out the need for a mechanically strong, yet thermally insulating
design, suggesting that a liner would be necessary to prevent permeation.
He also recognized the fact that composites do not exhibit plastic behavior,
which requires a different design philosophy than for metal tanks.
Sankar et al. [66] conducted a multiyear research program aimed at
developing improved analytical models of gas permeation through com-
posite panels at cryogenic temperatures and under complex, fluctuating
stress states. In particular, they examined the effect of interacting distri-
butions of oriented cracks in the different layers of a laminate. Transverse
52
microcracking due primarily to thermal stress is known to contribute to

permeation. A fracture-mechanics based approach was used to predict
crack densities and permeation rates. They additionally performed testing
that showed cryogenic cycling caused a degradation in the resistance of
panels to permeation due to the opening and propagating of cracks. The
testing showed that textile (woven) composites had less permeation than
laminated composites after cycling; this was attributed to the lack of
propagation of transverse cracks.
Morino et al. [67] carried out preliminary tests using a subscale tank
with a liner, focusing on the Y-joint at the dome-barrel intersection. They
noted the difficulty of maintaining a quality laminate in such locations
and aimed their testing at this area. They observed matrix microcracking
at low stress levels when the matrix was cold.
Graf et al. [73], noting the need for leakproof adhesively bonded joints
in cryotank applications, tested a double-lap joint design. They showed
that the lack of a peel-ply surface preparation, as well as the use of as
adhesive primer, reduced the bond strength. Overall, they found, as in
other investigations, that cryogenic temperatures reduced the strength
of their components by 50% or more. They showed a size effect; that
is, the larger the bonded surface, the lower the supported shear stress.
Such effects are usually attributable to the greater likelihood of bondline
defects as the bonded area increases.
Miller and Meador [74] found that clay-based layered silicate nanocom-
posites, dispersed in the epoxy matrix, significantly reduced thermal ex-
pansion and gas permeability in the resin both before and after cryogenic
cycling. The degree of reduction was directly related to the weight percent
of nanocomposite. They also found that, while the nanocomposite matrix
led to a laminate with lower flexural strength than plain epoxy resin, the
nanocomposite retained its strength after thermal cycling. It appears
that after cycling, the nanocomposite laminate had strength comparable
to the plain resin laminate. However, these encouraging results did not
translate to decreased permeability when the nanocomposite matrix was
used in a subscale test bottle.
Pavlick et al. [75] investigated the strength of advanced matrix mate-
rials. The resins were tested in the form of tensile and fracture samples
machined from neat plaques. Tensile strength, modulus, elongation to
break, toughness and fracture properties were measured at temperatures
53
ranging from +320 ◦ F to −310 ◦ F. It was found that cryogenic temper-

atures tended to increase the strength and decrease the elongation to
break of the matrix materials. Trends in fracture properties were unclear.
A candidate liquid crystal polymer matrix material was found to be
generally more brittle and less tough than the three other resins, all
polyimides.
Black [76] discussed recent advances in research on composite tanks for
cryogenic fluids. An unlined composite LOX tank for the since-canceled
X-34 reusable vehicle was successfully tested for fill/drain cycling and
impact resistance. The ability of composite tanks to incorporate more
complex shapes than those of metal tanks has been enhanced by in-situ
fiber placement, which can produce thick, curved structures that do not
wrinkle during cure, and can eliminate the need for debulking. Another
new manufacturing method that eliminates the need for debulking is
to lay up a panel by ultrasonically bonding thin layers of prepreg tape.
Linerless tanks may be possible if toughened, advanced matrix materials
are used. Even composite tanks still must use heavy metal bosses for fluid
connections. However, composite bosses manufactured by resin transfer
molding (RTM) have been tested.
Solid Rocket Motor Cases

Large solid rocket motor cases are discussed in this chapter because of
the significant flight loads (in addition to self-generated internal pressure)
they carry. Although they usually are “strapped on” and therefore are
not in the primary load path, in one vehicle, Ares I, a motor case did
form the bulk of the booster primary structure. Solid motors also provide
primary structural support in solid-fueled missiles. Because of their size
and rigidity, solid motor cases are attractive locations for the attachment
of auxiliary flight systems, and they also must support strap-on booster
nose cones and aft fairings. In this respect, they have more in common
with liquid main propellant tanks than with the combustion chambers of
liquid rocket engines. However, they must withstand pressures that can
exceed 1000 psi, far higher than the pressures in propellant tanks.
A solid motor case is composed of a barrel section, a forward dome
and closure, and an aft dome with provisions for mounting a nozzle.
Smaller motors such as the GEM-40, -46 and -60 strap-ons for the Delta
II, III and IV, and the Atlas V solid rocket motor, can be produced as
54
a single, monolithic unit. Very large motors, including the Titan III
and IV strap-ons and the Space Shuttle SRBs, must be manufactured in
segments in order to be transportable over the road. Motor cases and
segments are permanently loaded with propellant by the manufacturer,
and therefore must be handled carefully as they are transported to the
launch site, where they are assembled or “stacked.”
A “case-bonded” (as opposed to cartridge-loaded) motor typical of
those used for LVs consists of an outer shell, closed forward and aft by
domes, and the assembled pressure vessel is lined with an insulating
material that both protects the case from the heat of combustion and
facilitates the bonding of the propellant to the case. The propellant is
then cast directly into the lined case and cures to a rubbery consistency.
Neither the propellant nor the insulation provides significant strength or
stiffness to the motor as a whole, so they are not discussed further here.
Additional details are given in Chapter 11.
The pressurized envelope of a motor case is capped by a forward
closure, which usually houses the igniter, and an aft closure that must
provide an attachment for the nozzle. Also, forward and aft skirts are
usually provided for attachment to other vehicle structures. These are
integral with the motor case.
Except for the very largest first-stage boosters, solid rocket motor
cases are designed based on the pressure stress plus flight loads amounting
to some fraction of the pressure stress. As with main liquid propellant
tanks, cyclic loading during proof testing may cause flaws to propagate.
But solid rocket motor cases are also subject to pressure oscillations
at frequencies up to 1000 Hz during the motor burn [77]. Therefore,
nondestructive inspection methods of similar type and significance as
those previously discussed for liquid propellant tanks also apply to solid
rocket motor cases.
Motor cases are generally constructed of high-strength steels, titanium,
or filament-wound graphite-epoxy. Pressure stresses usually preclude the
use of aluminum except for very small motors. Metal cases may be built
from rolled and welded sheet or by seamless methods such as drawing or
spinning. The presence of a welded seam lowers the strength of the nearby
material and requires heat treatment and careful inspection. Steels that
are commonly used are D6AC, the 18% nickel maraging steels, and 4130
alloy [77]. Steels requiring post-fabrication heat treatment may pose a
55
problem because of the very large diameter of the finished product. There
is a limit to how large the structure can be before exceeding the capacity
of commonly available heat treatment facilities.
Solid rocket motor cases were one of the earliest applications of
filament-wound composites technology. Peters [78] states that motor
cases “were primarily responsible for accelerating filament winding from a
laboratory curiosity to the major industry it is today.” As with propellant
tanks, a major reason composites are attractive as a material for motor
cases is the ability to orient the strong direction of the material along the
direction of highest loading. This leads to greater structural efficiency
than is possible with an isotropic material. In motor cases, more so than
other structures, it can be stated with high confidence that the state
of stress is close to biaxial, with the axial stress about half of the hoop
stress. Flight loading is small compared to internal pressure and will alter
this ratio but little.
The titanium alloys and high-strength steels commonly used for motor
cases have specific strengths of about 850 ksi/(lb/in3 ), whereas composites
can achieve 3-5 times this value. Other reasons to use composites include
lower-cost and more adaptable tooling, relatively low-cost raw materials,
and imperviousness to corrosion. The thermal environment for motor
cases is not significantly different from that of non-cryogenic primary
structure. Although combustion temperatures are as much as 4000 K,
this extreme temperature does not have time to penetrate through the
very poorly conducting solid propellant and insulation to the case.
Several programs, including Titan and Space Shuttle, have developed
composite filament-wound replacements for motor cases that were initially
metal. Not all of these new designs were put into production. In the case
of the Space Shuttle, the filament-wound motor offered a definite mass
fraction advantage over the existing design, but the extra capability was
only needed for polar orbit launches from the Western Range, which were
canceled after the Challenger failure [79].
The Delta II uses up to nine large strap-on GEM-40 solid rocket
motors. The GEM-40, -46 and -60 have graphite-epoxy filament-wound
cases. Filament-wound cases have even been able to meet the very
stringent mass efficiency requirements of upper stages. The Inertial
Upper Stage (IUS) developed as an upper stage for both Titan and
Shuttle, incorporated two aramid-epoxy filament wound motors.
56
7.6. Feedlines, Small Lines and Pressure Vessels
Gargiulo et al. [80] compared failure envelopes generated by several

commonly used composite failure criteria to test data for pressurized
filament-wound tubes. Two early studies of materials selection for solid
rocket motor cases are [81] and [82].
Pionke and Garland [83] compared D6AC and 18-Ni maraging steel
from the standpoint of subcritical crack growth behavior in motor case
applications. This research was conducted in the course of early Space
Shuttle system studies. They found that D6AC had inferior corrosion and
stress corrosion resistance, and also experienced a decrease in cycle life
when exposed to temperatures needed during refurbishment operations.
7.6 Feedlines, Small Lines and Pressure Vessels

Many tubes and pipes are necessary to supply fluids to the propulsion
and guidance systems. These components range from small tubes less
than an inch in diameter to main propellant feedlines, which can be 18
inches or more in diameter. The larger lines frequently must have gimbals
or flexible sections so that thermal and mechanical stresses do not build
up, especially where the lines connect a strap-on to a main booster that
may experience large relative motions. Also, lines may connect to the
inlet valve on a gimballed engine that undergoes large motions.
Feedlines
Feedlines are different from other pipes and tubes due to their large size,
higher criticality and high flow rates. Operating pressures are similar
to those in the tanks. Some lines are downstream of pumps and the
pressure can be several thousand psi, but pipes downstream of feed pumps
are usually considered part of the propulsion system and therefore fall
outside the scope of this chapter. Either the fuel or the oxidizer tank
may be in the forward position. The feedline from the forward tank has a
downcomer that may run along the side of the aft tank, or may penetrate
the tank. The downcomer can be more than 50 feet long.
Feedlines are usually constructed of 321 corrosion-resistant steel
(CRES), although 347 CRES, Inconel 718, Hastelloy and A-286 have
also been used [84]. Inconel 718 and Hastelloy are especially suited to ar-
eas experiencing fluctuating loads and corrosive environments. Feedlines
can experience a high fluctuating load component relative to the mean
57
load, because of dynamic excitation and flow-induced vibration. They

may also vibrate during pogo, which is an undesirable resonant interaction
between the motion and pressure of the fluid, and the structural modes
of the feedlines or adjacent hardware.
The DC-XA included a composite LH2 feedline among the technologies
it demonstrated [85].
Metals for feedlines must have high ductility because of the need to
form elbows and bends. They must be formable, weldable, and compatible
with common lubricants. They must also have adequate performance
at low temperatures, when cryogenic fluids are involved. They must be
chemically compatible with the working fluid. A particular problem is
hydrogen embrittlement (see Chapter 2); Inconel 718 is incompatible with
high-pressure hydrogen for this reason. A corrosive or chemically active
environment can significantly lower the fracture toughness of materials.
Also, some fuels undergo rapid or even explosive reactions when they
contact certain metals. For example, the breakdown of certain hypergolic
propellants is catalyzed by some of the trace alloying elements present in
many metals.
Cryogenic lines may require insulation, whether they are inside or
outside the vehicle shell. Insulation is required to minimize boiloff,
maintain the fluid within the required temperature and pressure, and
prevent geysering. Geysering is when the fluid in a vertically oriented line
partly vaporizes and the bubbles rise and rapidly exit the top of the line.
Insulation on feedlines uses much the same technology as the lightweight
thermal protection systems for vehicle primary structure.
Both large feedlines and smaller tubes may be subject to safety factors
and testing requirements that are quite different from primary vehicle
structure. Lines that are small and can be pressurized when personnel
are nearby may be held to safety factors as high as 4.0. When EWR-127
applies, many safety precautions are required. Proof pressure testing
is almost always mandatory, and the many system functional and leak
checks that are carried out can consume a significant portion of the safe
life of a small line.
Pressure Vessels
Launch vehicles need to store small quantities of hydraulic fluid, sec-
ondary propulsion or reaction control propellants, helium for system
58
7.7. Unpressurized Structure
pressurization, and the like. High pressures may need to be withstood.

The classic design for this application is a Ti-6Al-4V welded sphere.
A more mass-efficient design, widely used today, is the composite
overwrapped pressure vessel (COPV). This design uses a very thin metal
shell only as a leak liner. The membrane strength is provided chiefly
by a filament-wound composite layer on top of the metal liner, usually
graphite-epoxy or aramid-epoxy. The liners may be titanium alloys or
Inconel. The two-layer construction allows the liner to be placed in a
state of residual compression, by initially pressurizing the tank beyond
the yield point of the liner. This process is called autofrettage or sizing.
When the pressure is removed, the overwrap elastically recovers, imposing
a compressive stress on the liner. In subsequent pressure cycles, the
liner will not go into tension until the sizing pressure is exceeded. This
process greatly improves the pressure and fatigue capability of the liner.
Obviously, if autofrettage is to be done, the material selected for the liner
must have a stress-strain relation that permits it. Low variability in the
yield strength and draw properties is needed in order to keep the results
of the autofrettage operation within control.
The inspection and safe life analysis of COPVs have been extensively
studied, and specialized standards exist; see, for example, [86, 87, 88].
However, with the liner strongly compressed when the vessel is empty,
liner buckling must be prevented. A good, continuous bond of the liner
to the overwrap is necessary. Unbonded areas due to inadequate adhesion
or protruding weld beads on the liner can cause the liner to buckle. The
leak-before-burst requirement is not entirely straightforward to apply to
COPVs because of the separate liner and overwrap.
7.7 Unpressurized Structure

Here, unpressurized structure means passively vented structure that
experiences low pressure differentials, no more than a few psi. For these
structures, pressure is not a driving factor in design. Examples are
fairings, nose cones, skirts, adapters, thrust structures, wings and control
surfaces. Usually, at launch, a mixture of gases, primarily air, exists
at near-atmospheric pressure in the interior spaces of these structures.
These gases may be very cold if near a cryogenic tank and may contain
gaseous propellants or oxygen due to prelaunch venting operations.. After
59
launch, as the vehicle ascends through the atmosphere, the internal gases
escape the structure through vents or natural leak paths.
Unpressurized structures may need to maintain a controlled interior
temperature and humidity environment, as with a payload fairing, or
there may be no control at all of the interior environment, as is usually
the case with intertanks and thrust sections.
As with all airborne structure, the strength-to-weight ratio is the most
important design characteristic, and when liquid propellants need not be
contained, there is more freedom to optimize the materials and structure
for light weight. Therefore, unpressurized structures have seen greater
use of composites, and the stronger grades of aluminum, whose lower
fracture toughness is less of a disadvantage than it would be in structure
that sees pressure cycling, may be considered. Lighter designs can result.
The 7000-series aluminum alloys are often used in unpressurized
structure. These alloys have zinc as their major alloying element, and
have a much higher static strength than the 2000-series alloys used in
propellant tanks. However, the 7000-series alloys are not as resistant to
damage from repeated loading as the 2000-series alloys, and have less
favorable cryogenic properties.
Intertanks, Skirts, Adapters, etc.

A space launch vehicle is, functionally, a number of tanks connected in
series, with an engine at the aft end and a payload at the forward end.
The structures used to connect the primary functional pieces are known
variously as intertanks, interstages, engine sections, skirts and adapters.
The generic term “adapter” will be used to refer to any of these types of
structures.
Adapters may be simple cylindrical shells providing a space for the end
dome of a tank, or they may support feedlines, pneumatic and hydraulic
lines, wire harnesses, and other items on internal brackets or shelves.
Often the umbilical connections that supply the vehicle with ground
electrical power and provide propellant fill and drain capabilities are
located in adapter structures. Because of the available internal space,
guidance and navigation hardware, telemetry equipment, inert gas tanks,
and hydraulic pumps are often located in adapters. Thus, an adapter
may have an outer shell that is primary structure and inner shelves or
brackets that are secondary structure.
60
Armstrong et al. [89] examined the use of a beryllium-aluminum

alloy for use in lightweight stiffened cylindrical barrels, particularly from
the standpoint of cost. Both integrally machined orthogrid designs and
bilayer corrugated-smooth designs were considered. They concluded that
the beryllium alloy would be 50% lighter than an equivalent-performance
aluminum design, but as discussed earlier, beryllium dust is toxic and
the expensive safety measures required in manufacturing tend to cut into
its inherent advantages.
Composites are used to a much greater degree where there is no need
to contain a liquid. Therefore, they have many applications in unpressur-
ized LV structures. These applications are similar in requirements and
performance as the use of composites in aircraft, the pros and cons of
which (weight saving, part count reduction, ability to fabricate complex
one-piece shapes, etc.) have been addressed in other chapters. Large
composite structures pose design, manufacturing and maintenance chal-
lenges that are different from those for metals. Vosteen and Hadcock [90]
surveyed industry experts and concluded that using composites requires
a period of materials development before product development begins,
that scale-up to production can be challenging, that bonded and fastened
joints require more precision than in metal structures, and that tooling
must be adaptable to allow design changes, control dimensions and adjust
for springback.
LVs generally experience a greater temperature range than aircraft.
Composite structures on an LV may be close to cryogenic propellant tanks;
conduction through the structure and cold vapors emitted during fueling
can result in extremely low temperatures. During atmospheric flight,
an LV proceeds through hypersonic speeds, and without some means of
insulation, heating due to aerodynamic friction can raise the temperature
of composites well beyond the softening point of the matrix. Therefore,
the low- and high-temperature behavior of composites is relatively more
important in LVs than in aircraft.
Adhesively bonded joints, as well as adhesive bonds of core materials
to composite facesheets, are especially susceptible to strength reduction at
extreme temperatures. It is expensive enough to adequately characterize
a bonded joint at room temperature, but when large temperature and
humidity ranges must be considered, the task becomes that much more
involved.
61
Kobayashi et al. [91] discussed the development of a composite in-

terstage for the H-2A vehicle. The interstage shell was a foam-core,
graphite-epoxy facesheet sandwich manufactured by co-curing. The role
of geometric imperfections in the buckling capability was investigated.
A good description of the structural qualification test is given, in which
cryogenic temperatures were imposed at the aft end of the interstage to
simulate the in-flight conditions due to an adjacent propellant tank. Such
approaches are often necessary in structural qualification tests for launch
vehicles.
Payload Fairings and Nose Cones

A conical or tapered shell is used to provide a low-drag shape for the
forward end of the vehicle and to protect enclosed payloads during ground
handling and atmospheric flight. When a payload is enclosed, the struc-
ture is known as a payload fairing or shroud; when no payload is inside
(as at the forward end of a strap-on booster), it is called a nose cone.
Nose cones are permanently attached to the strap-on booster and
go with the jettisoned boosters when they have completed their burn.
Payload fairings are jettisoned once the vehicle has ascended out of the
atmosphere and air drag has ceased. Since a nose cone does not need to
protect a payload, the functional demands placed on it are less stringent.
Another application is the nose cone of a vehicle that undergoes a head-
first atmospheric re-entry. This type of nose cone must be able to resist
the extreme heat and pressure of re-entry, and must be constructed of
heavy heat-sink and shielding materials. Therefore, it is a quite different
structure from a nose cone that must function only during ascent. A very
early study of materials for this type of nose cone is given in [92].
Even during ascent, nose cones are subject to high heat fluxes, and
therefore must incorporate heat-resistant materials, especially at the apex.
The Space Shuttle Orbiter nose cone is made of reinforced carbon/carbon,
which can withstand temperatures exceeding 3000 ◦ F. Carbon/carbon is
a fibrous composite consisting of graphite fibers in a pyrolytic graphite
matrix. Expendable vehicles may use superalloys or other heat-resistant
metals at the nose cap.
Payload fairings, being at the extreme forward end of the vehicle, do
not need to sustain as much axial load as other structures. Therefore,
stiffness is relatively more important than strength for a fairing. The
62
fairing must maintain the shape of the payload compartment so that

there is no danger of contact or interference between the payload and
the fairing. It must be able to resist the very high-intensity sound waves
(160 dB or higher) that reverberate around the launch pad after engine
ignition but before the vehicle has risen above the surrounding terrain.
These sound waves can be intense enough to excite panel vibrations on
the fairing. The fairing may be required to attenuate the liftoff acoustics
to protect the payload. The fairing must also be stiff enough so that it
does not grossly deform during jettison; the motions and deformations
should be linear and easily predictable.
A payload fairing design used on the first Atlas-Centaur launches was
made of fiberglass [93]. However, increasingly stringent payload protection
requirements and the need to reduce weight whenever possible led to the
use of more advanced materials, in sandwich or stiffened shell designs as
a rule. The core and facesheets of sandwich shells are often composed of
different materials, such as laminated composite facesheets over a phenolic
or aluminum honeycomb core, or a foam core. Such constructions require
the joining of dissimilar materials, usually by adhesive bonding or co-
curing, and may suffer from corrosion or stresses induced by differential
thermal expansion. These problems may be solved by using the same
material for both the core and facesheets.
The Ariane 4 fairing, a conventional design that is 20 years old but
can still be considered state-of-the-art, is described in [94] in the context
of a separation test. The fairing shell is largely made of a sandwich
of graphite-epoxy facesheets with an aluminum honeycomb core. The
forward end of the fairing is an aluminum skin-stringer design that has
a layer of cork insulation. This is a less expensive and possibly lighter
approach than using a superalloy nose cap. The fairing-vehicle separation
system consists of tension belt or clampband that secures the aft end of
the fairing to the rest of the vehicle under tension provided by two steel
bolts.
The Russian Soyuz LV has payload fairings whose shells are sandwich
structures composed of an aluminum skin with aluminum honeycomb core
[95]. Schwingel et al have described an experimental structure composed
of an aluminum foam core with aluminum facesheets [96]. The sandwich
layup was manufactured by rolling the facesheets over a layer of mixed
aluminum and gas-generating material. In a subsequent foaming process,
63
the sandwich was heated until the gas-generating material was activated,
causing bubbles to expand in the core and increase the thickness of the
sheet without an increase in mass. The large foam cells produced by
this process were about as big a honeycomb cell. A prototype conical
adapter was built using this process and successfully tested to about half
of the limit loads applicable to the conventional structure it was meant to
replace. Homogeneous core/facesheet sandwich structures such as these
overcome the problems of material incompatibility, but cannot be tailored
as precisely as sandwiches with differing core and facesheet materials.
Lane et al. [97] investigated a fairing design composed of tubes joined
into a sheet, subsequently formed into a cylindrical barrel. The tubes
were then punctured on the inside of the barrel to reduce the acoustic
levels inside the barrel. This design, known as the chamber core fair-
ing, is intended to provide acceptably low sound levels inside the fairing
without the need for the usual nonstructural acoustic blankets. They
built a laboratory-scale specimen and measured noise reduction equal to
that provided by blankets for low-frequency noise. The specimen was
constructed of inner and outer filament-wound facesheets with composite
tubes between them. There may be difficulties in integrating the cylindri-
cal chamber-core barrel with the required conical shape at the forward
end of the nose.
Ochinero et al. [98] described the design optimization and subscale
wind tunnel testing of an unconventional Large Asymmetric Payload
Fairing intended to accommodate very bulky payloads.6 They discussed
an optimization procedure that resulted in the selection of carbon fiber
reinforced facesheets and a Rohacell foam core. This design was governed
strongly by buckling rather than strength, which is typical for payload
fairings. Consideration was given to buckling behavior beyond the elastic
stability limit (postbuckling), which has been applied in practice to
balloon propellant tanks but is not usual for other structures.
The use of a Rohacell foam core highlights important considerations,
discussed in more detail in the following section, related to core materials.
A primary reason for using Rohacell for this application was the relatively
low knock-down factor imposed by the program. Program requirements
6
Material on the Large Asymmetric Payload Fairing and the subsequent section on core
materials and inserts were contributed by Tomoya Ochinero and Eric Ruolo, Structural
Mechanics Corporation.
64
dictated the use of core material-specific knock-down factors on the

strength of the sandwich panel to account for separation between the core
and the facesheets due to such variables as manufacturing imperfections,
microbuckling, and moisture entrapment. A more traditional honeycomb
core has a tendency to entrap moisture in the cells of the core material.
The entrapped moisture can evaporate as the payload fairing is subjected
to the high temperatures and low pressures of ascent. Without adequate
venting features to relieve the subsequent pressure rise within the core
materials, the facesheets can become separated from the core material.
For this particular application, the program dictated a significantly larger
knock-down factor for an aluminum honeycomb core than for a Rohacell
core. It is academically interesting to note that the fairing would have
been lighter if it had been designed using aluminum honeycomb core if
only the knock-down factors were equal.
Another interesting note that highlights the struggle between idealized
design optimization and the realities of manufacturing and operational
requirements on this application is the uniform thickness of the core.
The optimization analysis showed that a significant weight savings was
achievable by tailoring the core thickness to vary with respect to location
on the fairing. With Rohacell, it is easier to continuously vary the thick-
ness of the core than with an aluminum honeycomb core. However, the
manufacturing constraints on this program required a uniform thickness
continuous core. This resulted in a compromise where the core is thicker
in many regions where a thinner core would have sufficed. It is notable
that despite these design constraints, a fairing with twice the volume of
the standard fairing was achieved with only a 33% weight increase.
Core Materials
Core material is used to separate thin composite facesheets and increase
the structural efficiency in bending. The purpose of this core material
is to tie the facesheets together in shear, thus allowing them to work
together in bending. For this reason, when modeling, the properties of
the core must be properly taken into consideration. One often overlooked
core property is the in-plane modulus of aluminum honeycomb cores.
Facesheet-stabilized aluminum honeycomb has a significant in-plane mod-
ulus that must be accounted for when conducting thermal analysis or
thermal distortion analysis of sandwich parts with thin facesheets. A
65
good reference to estimate the modulus in the absence of test data is [99].
Incomplete bonding between core edges and facesheets is often the
source of many manufacturing induced flaws which cause disbonds and
panel failures. These can be mitigated by using reticulation to premelt
one layer of film adhesive on the bare core. This increases the bond
fillet between the honeycomb and facesheet and has been shown to
dramatically increase sandwich panel integrity. The downside is the
increase in processing time and the use of twice the number of film
adhesive layers, which increases the mass of the panel and adds more
high-CTE adhesive into the panel.
For large panels and complex sections, core splices are required. The
need to use separate core sections and then bond them together with
foaming adhesive adds another design detail with challenging analysis
requirements. For most aerospace applications, the foaming adhesive has
stronger shear strength than the core, so if the dimensions of the splices
are controlled to ensure proper adhesion, the core splice is stronger than
the base materials. Splices should be designed to be away from any load
introduction points and as far away from highly loaded regions of the
panel as practically possible.
With sandwich structures that ascend to outer space or have rapid
depressurization requirements, vented core is required to prevent the
facesheets from blowing off. An approach to compute this failure mode
is presented in [100]. The vapor needs to have a pathway to ambient,
requiring edge closeouts to also be vented. Mylar closeout tapes come
perforated for such applications.
The core out-of-plane shear strength is utilized to introduce out-of-
plane loads via potted inserts. Potted inserts are placed in sandwich
panels to connect ancillary components such as equipment boxes to
the panel and provide load paths for panel to panel connections. Most
companies have proprietary insert designs, but off-the-shelf designs are
sold commercially. The analysis of these joints is complicated and is
described in great detail in [101]. Test data for these joints is required
to validate the design before production. Attention should be paid to
the potting compound for this style of insert. With extreme thermal
environments, the out-of-plane CTE difference can cause the potting
compound to either shear the core or force the failure of the core-to-
facesheet bond. Potting compound weight can also become a major driver
66
7.8. Thermal Protection and Insulation
to otherwise highly efficient sandwich panel construction, as hundreds

or thousands of inserts may be added to a lightweight panel to provide
fixation to all the equipment that must be placed on it.
With the proper attention to the additional design and analysis details
of sandwich panel construction, weight savings can be realized over
traditional structures. The designer must be vigilant to ensure that the
additional failure modes and behavior of the structure is well understood
to prevent failures.
7.8 Thermal Protection and Insulation

Thermal environments are a significant factor in materials selection for
LVs. Most liquid-fueled vehicles use cryogenic LOX at −297 ◦ F as the
oxidizer, and some use LH2 fuel, at −423 ◦ F. Even though cryogens are
loaded only a few hours before launch, there is ample time for the tank
walls, domes, and adjacent hardware to become extremely cold. Venting
and leakage of boiled-off propellants create plumes of cold gas that may
surround vehicle structures and cause cooling of areas not in direct contact
with liquid propellants. Insulation, typically in the form of closed-cell
polymer foams sprayed on or bonded on as pre-cured panels, is used to
protect hardware from extreme cold and to manage the boil-off of loaded
propellants before and during launch.
All LVs must ascend through the atmosphere, typically for two min-
utes or so. The competing effects of decreasing air temperature with
altitude, and increasing frictional heating with acceleration, can cause
structural skin temperatures to decrease or increase. Insulation serves
to moderate the temperature of the structure during this period. Thus,
the insulation applied to a cryogenic propellant tank needs to retain
acceptable mechanical and thermal properties at temperatures ranging
from as low as −423 ◦ F to plus several hundred degrees F.
For the two commonest structural materials, aluminum and graphite-
epoxy, temperatures must be kept below about 200 ◦ F in order for the
structure to retain sufficient strength and stiffness. Aluminum is more
tolerant of heating than graphite-epoxy, but still weakens appreciably
when temperatures exceed 200 ◦ F. High-strength steel is less affected by
high temperatures. In some areas, such as the forward end of a nose cone,
or an area subject to a standing shock wave, temperatures can be high
67
enough to require high-temperature (refractory) alloys or carbon/carbon.

The leading edges of the Space Shuttle wings, and its nose cap, are made
of carbon/carbon with a silicon carbide coating to prevent oxidation. The
nose caps of expendable vehicles may be made of beryllium alloys or
high-temperature superalloys, However, exposure to high temperatures is
brief, so time at temperature is usually not a consideration except after
many flights of a reusable vehicle.
The most widely used material for expendable LV thermal protection
systems (TPSs) is polyurethane foam. These foams can be sprayed on,
poured into molds placed over vehicle features, or bonded on in the form of
pre-cured sheets. Foams suitable for use in TPS applications are relatively
rigid. Their microstructure consists of packed bubbles or closed cells with
polyurethane walls. The polyurethane itself is created by the catalyzed
reaction of a polyisocyanate with a polyol. During the casting process,
which takes place either directly on the structure when foam is sprayed on
or poured in place, or in a factory where pre-cured sheets are made, two
parts are mixed. One part is the polyisocyanate, and the other part is the
polyol, catalyst, blowing agent, and surfactant. The cells are generated
when the blowing agent, suspended in the liquid mixture, expands. When
the mixture cools, rigid-walled cells remain, initially containing mainly
the blowing agent. As time passes, the blowing agent gradually diffuses
out of the cells, and air diffuses in. By the time the foam is put into
service as an insulator, the cells may still contain mostly blowing agent,
or a mixture of blowing agent and air. The insulating characteristics of
the foam can thus change with time, because the thermal properties of
the changing cell contents play a significant role.
Until the early 1990s, the most common blowing agents in TPS foams
were the chlorofluorocarbon (CFC) refrigerants CFC-11 and CFC-12.
These agents, while non-flammable and non-toxic, were recognized as
damaging to the ozone layer and were gradually banned in some countries.7
Manufacturers no longer able to obtain CFCs sought substitutes such
as hydrochlorofluorocarbons such as HCFC-141b, but these, too, were
eventually banned. Changes to the blowing agent require the foam to
7
With regard to the major LV manufacturing countries, the United States and France
banned CFCs by 1996. Russia and Ukraine were attempting to eliminate the substances
but having some difficulties achieving full compliance. CFCs were still available to Chinese
manufacturers as of this writing [102].
68
be requalified for its intended use. Different blowing agents generate

different cell sizes and shapes, and affect the thermal properties of the
insulation. Requalification tests may indicate that process changes are
needed to maintain the foam’s performance.
By varying processing parameters such as flow rate, temperature
and ambient curing conditions, a variety of foams can be generated. A
surfactant may be used to control the size of the cells. The stiffness of
the cell walls themselves is a function of the precursor compounds and
the ratio and conditions under which they are mixed. The stiffness and
strength of the foam is a strong function of the cell size: smaller cells
mean a denser, stiffer and stronger foam.
Over smooth, featureless areas, sprayed-on or bonded-on foams are
usually used. Sprayed-on foam is applied in several passes; in the time
between passes, the exposed surface of the previous pass can partially
cure. A “knit-line” may then form at the boundary surface between
two passes, consisting of two adjacent layers of aligned cell walls that
appear as a thickened solid wall running through a field of randomly
oriented cells. As the foam rises, the forces of gravity, surface tension
and internal pressure create cells of dispersed size that tend to be oblong,
with the long axes aligned in what is called the rise direction. Noever et
al. [103] showed microphotographic studies of the effect of gravity on the
cell size, shape, and void frequency of foams. Their control sample was
manufactured in zero gravity during a sounding rocket flight.
The existence of a distinct rise direction has to do with the fact that
the liquid foam has to be constrained into the desired shape, by the
structural surface, a partially cured previous pass, and/or a mold. The
rise direction and the knit-lines result in anisotropic mechanical and
thermal properties.
When complex shapes such as flanges or fastener heads must be
insulated, foam is usually poured into molds so that it can closely conform
to the underlying surface. Whether foam is poured or sprayed, when the
structure has a complicated shape, voids may occur due to the inability
of the foam to conform exactly to the surface. Voids may also occur
between spray passes and simply as enlarged cells, which will develop in
scattered locations due to the slightly incomplete mixing of components.
Also, knit-lines will exist wherever a poured area meets a separately
poured area, or a sprayed area. Machining or shaving may be necessary
69
to achieve a low-drag outer profile for both poured and sprayed foams.
The various failure modes of foam insulation received intense study
following the Columbia accident. Stresses sufficient to fail foam may be
caused by cryopumping, thermal expansion, flexing and stretching of
the structural substrate, thermal cycling, pre-existing flaws, voids and
unbonds, and probably several other failure modes that have yet to be
conceived. Bednarcyk et al. [104] provided a discussion of the failure
modes from the micromechanics viewpoint along with an analytical
framework for predicting failure under complex combinations of stress,
temperature and pressure histories.
The Space Shuttle contains both major types of TPS: a low-strength,
lightweight layer of foam on the expendable External Tank, and more
capable, reusable insulation on the Orbiter. The Orbiter is not only
reused, it also must withstand the rigors of atmospheric re-entry, which
are a far more challenging thermal environment than launch. Figure 7.6
illustrates the location of the different types of TPS on the Space Shuttle
Orbiter.
Re-entry TPS technology for reusable launch vehicles has its roots in
the (primarily ablative) TPS designs for the early expendable capsules.
A summary of the state of the art in ablative heat shield materials for
re-entry vehicles was given by Bauer and Kummer [105]. They described
the design of a low-density, filled silicone ablative material cast into
a nonmetallic honeycomb reinforcement, bonded to a plastic sandwich
structure, as applied to the Gemini spacecraft. This was an advance
over the Mercury heat shield, which was a glass-phenolic, and a step in
the direction of the Apollo Command Module heat shield, which was
silica fiber-epoxy resin again cast into a non-metallic honeycomb support
structure. These early ablative systems were extremely heavy. The
Apollo shield made up almost a third of the total weight of the Command
Module.
A reusable TPS with a great deal of operational experience is the
ceramic tiles covering most of the Space Shuttle orbiter. The development
of these tiles was a major pacing item in the Shuttle program as a whole.
There are actually four different types of tiles, with differing capabilities,
used in different areas. All of the tiles are composed of amorphous
silica fibers with a 0.015-in-thick reaction-cured borosilicate glass coating
on the side facing the atmosphere. The system is tiled, rather than a
70
Figure 7.6: Thermal protection system of the Space Shuttle Orbiter. Public-
domain graphic by NASA.
continuous sheet, in order to allow thermal expansion of the substrate and

individual replacement of damaged tiles. In low-temperature areas (750 ◦ F
to 1200 ◦ F), the tiles are colored white, whereas in high-temperature areas
(up to 2300 ◦ F) the tiles are colored black to improve radiative heat
transfer [106]. The rest of the Orbiter acreage is insulated with flexible
blankets.
Carbon/carbon can endure higher temperatures than any other aerospace
structural material, up to 3000 ◦ F. It is relatively expensive, difficult to
work with and subject to oxidation. Titanium and the nickel superalloys
are the next most expensive. Being metals, they are strong and can be
worked with conventional tooling, but they are also heavy. More advanced
concepts have involved non-metallic, felt or ceramic blankets and tiles
[107].
The never-completed X-33, and its envisioned full-scale successor,
71
VentureStar, were to have used an advanced metallic combination thermal

protection system / aeroshell. It was to be constructed of titanium and
Inconel. This represented a departure from the ceramic tile “acreage”
TPS of the Space Shuttle and was meant to improve the durability of
the vehicle. The metallic TPS was intended to be rain-proof, resistant
to impact damage, and easily serviceable by replacing panels. However,
the hottest areas of the structure, such as the nose and leading edges,
were still planned to have carbon/carbon or carbon/silicon carbide panels
[108].
In operation it was found that the Shuttle TPS was easily damaged
and required careful observation and maintenance. This was known long
before the Columbia failure, which can be seen as involving two separate
TPS structural failures: one when foam insulation came loose from the
External Tank, and another when the loose piece of insulation struck the
carbon/carbon leading edge of the Orbiter’s wing, fatally damaging the
ability of the wing to withstand the re-entry thermal environment. When
the X-33 was developed, much effort was directed toward developing a
more robust TPS.
Thermal protection systems are usually considered nonstructural, and
are simply attached to the outer moldline of the structure. However,
recent research has been done on load-carrying TPS, called integrated
thermal protection systems.
Gogu et al. [109] compared materials for a corrugated core sandwich
panel integrated TPS. They considered Ti-6Al-4V, zirconia, and an
aluminosilicate/ceramic oxide fiber composite as web materials, aluminum,
graphite-epoxy and vacuum hot-pressed beryllium as bottom facesheet
materials, and Inconel 718, aluminosilicate/fiber and carbon/carbon as top
facesheet materials. They concluded that using the aluminosilicate/fiber
for the web and top facesheet, and beryllium as the bottom facesheet, led
to a design only one-third the mass of the heaviest design.
Lindell et al. [110] described analysis and testing of an inflatable
re-entry vehicle incorporating a flexible fabric-type thermal protection
system consisting of layered polyimide and woven ceramic fabric. Because
the structure was inflatable, it could be much larger than conventional
re-entry vehicles (60-90 feet in diameter). A large surface area-to-weight
ratio leads to lower heating and therefore less stringent requirements
on the thermal protection system than would exist for other concepts
72
7.9. Manufacturing Considerations
carrying the same mass.

Rakow and Waas [111] investigated an integral TPS consisting of
actively cooled metal foam sandwich panels. The panels were composed
of metal facesheets brazed to an open-cell metal foam core, with a coolant
fluid circulated through the open-cell core structure. They discussed
the advantages of this concept over previously considered actively cooled
honeycomb core panels, which required separate coolant tubes to be built
into the structure. The tubes do not permit as even a cooling effect as
the metal foam. Henson [112] developed a class of continuum models
for materials with small fluid-filled passages as may be used for active
cooling.
Fesmire [113, 114] discussed the testing and potential applications of
aerogel materials in LV thermal protection systems. Gels are materials
that are mostly liquid by weight, but which have a crosslinked network
that contributes enough rigidity that the material can support stress
without flowing. An aerogel is a gel in which the liquid part has been
replaced by a gas, resulting in a very low-density, porous material. Fesmire
showed that aerogels are less prone to cryopumping than conventional
foams, because of their high and finely dispersed porosity. Also, they are
hydrophobic and therefore do not permit frost and ice to accumulate as
do some other insulating materials.
Yao et al. [115] described the design and fabrication of a nickel-
based superalloy honeycomb nonstructural thermal protection system for
reusable applications. They measured the strength and thermal properties
of the panel, and developed an oxidation-resistant coating containing a
high-emittance layer for improved thermal peformance.
7.9 Manufacturing Considerations

General references for this section: [116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 6, 121, 69, 122]
Introduction
Manufacturing of launch vehicles is a process that transforms raw materi-
als into a space launch vehicle.8 This includes tanks, engines, structure and
necessary sub-systems for full operations. This process has three phases;
8
This section was contributed by Clyde S. Jones III, NASA Marshall Space Flight Center
73
fabrication, assembly, and checkout. Fabrication involves processing raw

materials into the basic components for a launch vehicle. Examples of
these components include commercially available metal plates and bars,
fasteners, composite materials, adhesives, coatings, tubing, castings and
forged metal. Assembly is the process by which components are collected
from suppliers and assembled into complete systems. Most launch vehicle
factories are primarily assembly facilities. Checkout is the process of
verifying that the vehicle is ready for delivery. It is usually distributed
during assembly, so that defects can be detected before too much value is
added. A final checkout is performed as a last step before delivery to the
launch site, and typically a functional or operational check.
Manufacturing Planning and Execution

Planning for manufacturing of space launch vehicles is similar in many
ways to that in other industries. The size of components and types of
materials are comparable to commercial aircraft, and quality standards
share common approaches. Unique issues in launch vehicle manufacturing
are primarily related to their low production rate and high cost. Even
the most popular launch vehicles rarely exceed a production rate of one
unit per month, and most are produced at less than half that rate. In
contrast, the Boeing 747, for instance, with a similar size and complexity,
is produced at a rate of one to six per month. Compared to other
commercial manufacturing, the comparison is even more pronounced.
The automobile industry may produce one thousand vehicles in a shift,
and each vehicle is far less valuable.
The significance of this difference in production rate is manifested in
several ways. If the production process for a particular component or
assembly is only performed a few times in a year, there will be a stronger
reliance on written procedures to assure that the part is produced correctly.
A space launch vehicle has a greater cost per component, so that each
processing step is financially riskier than in mass production.
With large, expensive components, and precise fit-up tolerances, tool-
ing to position the components can be very complex. Manufacturing
simulation computer systems are used to help optimize the flow of large
assemblies through the factory. As the cost of computing power declines,
simulation systems are an economical way to analyze different manufac-
turing scenarios and iterate an optimum flow. These systems can then
74
use design information to program robots, machine tools, and welding

systems for very complex assemblies.
Simulation systems can adjust the programs of large complex machines
to fit unique model configurations and even compensate for some types
of geometric imperfections in components. Fabrication of an aluminum-
phenolic sandwich structure for the common bulkhead on the Ares Upper
Stage demonstrated how manufacturing simulation systems could match
two welded aluminum domes with their phenolic sandwich material. While
the welded domes had small areas that did not match the design within
the tolerance required to complete the adhesive joints, computer systems
match-machined the phenolic to fit the imperfect parts and successfully
completed the adhesive bonded assembly.
A successful manufacturing planning system will provide for tracking
the use of different materials and components to allow traceability in
the case of defects. If the certification of any particular lot of parts or
material used in manufacturing comes into question at any time, the
manufacturing planning system can determine where the questionable
parts were used on any vehicle, allowing replacement, or even acceptance
by further testing or analysis. In such situations, accurate information on
the pedigree of any part or material used on the vehicle can be invaluable.
Nonconformances, meaning processes that were carried out differently
than the design intent, are bound to occur, so a process for disposition
is necessary. Some nonconformances are acceptable. A Material Review
Board develops and documents the disposition of a nonconforming part
or process. A typical process is: discovery of the nonconformance, docu-
mentation of the technical details and application, determination as to
whether corrective action is needed, and if necessary development of a
corrective action.
Assembly Processes: Welding

Welding is the primary assembly method for large cryogenic tanks. A
pressurized tank using welded joints can reduce dry mass and part count
compared to a mechanical joint, and is less likely to leak over a wider
range of operating conditions. Disadvantages include the requirement of
a high skill level for production workers, and the cost of non-destructive
inspection processes to screen for cracks or related defects. Historically,
welding has been a critical technical and schedule driver in production of
75
launch vehicles [39].

Welding aluminum for launch vehicle tanks and structures has been
a well-proven process since the 1960s. Aluminum alloys commonly used
include 2219, 2014, 2024, and 2195. These alloys have the advantage
of high specific strength and good fracture toughness at cryogenic tem-
peratures. An important feature of aerospace aluminum alloys used for
manufacturing launch vehicles is that they have better fracture properties
at cryogenic temperatures, so that a less expensive room temperature
acceptance test is sufficient. Aerospace aluminum alloys exhibit lower
mechanical properties in the weld joint than areas unheated by welding
due to oxide trapped as the metal solidifies, and cracking as the metal
cools. Strength reduction can be mitigated by adding extra thickness at
the weld joint.
The weld process is usually developed to concentrate the heat as
much as practical, allowing higher welding speeds. This reduces the
heat-affected zone, minimizing heat effects on the base material temper.
Welds on a launch vehicle structural element are usually made au-
tomatically rather than manually. This results in more consistent heat
input along the weld joint. This consistency makes the weld properties
more predictable, and reduces distortion. Over the years, advances in
computing hardware and software have made automatic welding systems
more consistent over a wider variety of production conditions. In the
1960s, and during the first few builds of the Space Shuttle External Tank,
electronic servocontrols with operational logic provided by relays were
the norm for welding automation. By the mid-1980s, digital computers
were commonplace for automation, improving the operator interface, and
providing more accurate adjustment of all weld parameters that affect the
quality of the process. A very important improvement by digital control
systems was detailed recording of parameters as the weld progressed.
Computers have allowed for precise programming of each parameter be-
fore welding starts, allowing the welding engineer to build a successful
scheme for each joint. As welding progresses, the computer records each
parameter multiple times each second. The result is detailed data on
each weld, which can be compared with previous attempts to fine tune
the procedure.
Robotic welding was introduced for launch vehicle applications in the
late 1980s. Robots apply the consistency of welding automation to joints
76
with complex curvature. The programmable path of the robot can reduce
the cost of motion control compared to a specially designed system for a
specific geometry. Robots using the gas tungsten arc welding (GTAW)
process were able to join a wide variety of components previously welded
manually on the Space Shuttle Main Engine in 1989, and are still in
use today. A robot using the plasma arc process was used for a saddle
joint on the docking nodes of the International Space Station in the
mid-1990s. The robot used eight axes of motion to position both the
component and the weld torch in the ideal orientation for a successful
weld. Because the robot could be programmed for multiple paths, it was
also used for other welds on the Space Station structure, avoiding the
need for additional welding systems. Currently the Orion crew vehicle
uses one robot to perform friction stir welding for every weld joint on the
vehicle, including circumferential and linear geometries. Using a robot to
bring the welding process to multiple fixtures and weld stations reduces
the overall floor space that would have been required for conventional
welding. The universal programmability feature inherent in the robot is
ideal for low production rate of launch vehicles, providing a cost-effective
approach to design changes and different model configurations.
Many different welding processes have been used successfully in a
production system on operational launch vehicles, including gas metal
arc, resistance, GTAW, plasma arc, electron beam (EB), and friction
stir welding processes. Gas metal arc has been phasing out since the
1960s because it is prone to porosity and oxide inclusions when welding
aluminum. When used on the Saturn vehicles, the process required
significant rework compared to the welding processes used today [39].
Resistance welding processes have been used extensively on launch
vehicles. It worked well with the 301 and 321 stainless steels used in the
Atlas family, and is still used for the Centaur upper stage. This process
has not found similar success in aluminum structures, primarily due to
inconsistent quality. This is likely due to the high resistance of aluminum
oxide that quickly forms on the surface of aluminum, affecting the current
flowing between the electrodes. The overlap design of a resistance-welded
joint also leads to difficulties in applying non-destructive inspection
techniques. Other applications for this welding process include structural
covers for insulation systems.
GTAW is still commonly used on aluminum welds for launch vehicles.
77
These processes have higher energy density than the gas metal arc process,
resulting in a smaller heat affected zone and thus higher mechanical prop-
erties. GTA and plasma welding processes can be operated in alternating
polarity, which provides a cathodic cleaning action to aluminum during
welding. This reduces the presence of oxides, minimizing the chance for
oxide inclusions in the weld zone, and improves flow of the molten pool.
Oxides are further discouraged in the weld zone by abrading the joining
surfaces, through draw filing, wire brushing, or other mechanical means.
Since aluminum will develop a surface oxide quickly, there is usually a
time limit established between completion of surface cleaning and when
welding starts. If this limit is exceeded, additional cleaning is required
before welding.
Electron beam welding uses a high voltage to accelerate electrons,
which are focused using magnetic fields to melt metals for welding. This
welding process has the advantage of very high energy density, which
can penetrate and join thick parts with minimal distortion, and minimal
effect on the temper of adjacent material. It is used extensively on launch
vehicles to assemble engine components, hermetically seal batteries and
join thick materials used in heavily loaded structural parts. The process
takes place in a vacuum, so metals that oxidize at elevated temperatures,
such as titanium, can be welded with minimal risk of included oxides.
Since the process must take place in a vacuum chamber, there is a practical
limit to the size of components that can be EB welded. It is also limited
to metals that are non-magnetic, that wont deflect the beam during
welding.
Friction stir welding has been adopted by launch vehicle manufacturers
rapidly since its invention in the early 1990s. FSW is ideally suited for
aluminum, because it is relatively soft at elevated temperatures. This
allows commonly available tool steels to be used for the pin that applies
friction to the part. It also reduces the forces that must be reacted by the
weld tooling. While titanium and ferrous alloys have been welded with
the FSW process, aluminum alloys are the most common application.
The first application of this process in a production environment was in
Europe, fabricating aluminum structures for shipbuilding in the mid-1990s,
applied to a 6000-series alloy.
The first launch vehicle application was by Boeing on a Delta II
variant that first flew in 2001, which applied the process to the 2024 alloy
78
on longitudinal welds. Lockheed Martin and NASA developed a more

complex application for longitudinal barrel welds on the Space Shuttle
External Tank in the early 2000s. The External Tank used Al-Li 2195
for these parts, and the weld joints tapered in thickness from almost 16
mm at the LH2 tank aft dome, down to 8 mm at the LH2 tank forward
dome. This application required a more sophisticated pin tool that could
adjust its extension as the weld traveled along the joint. An automated
method to control the pin extension was developed to maintain the proper
depth and stir the weld completely through the weld joint thickness. The
last five External Tanks produced took advantage of this new technology.
The Delta IV launch vehicle was designed with FSW in mind. All the
longitudinal welds were joined using FSW, while circumferential welds
used a version of variable polarity plasma arc. The design of the LOX
and LH2 tanks eliminated some circumferential welds by increasing the
number of barrel panels and longitudinal welds
Weld Distortion
A common problem in all welding processes is distortion. A distorted
component is more difficult to join to adjacent structure, and has higher
residual stress, both of which reduce structural efficiency.
Distortion resulting from the weld process comes primarily from shrink-
age in the weld zone, but can also result from the interaction of residual
stresses in each component, and how they change after welding heats the
parts. Because high-strength materials are often used in launch vehicles,
distortion is exacerbated since localized shrinkage in the weld area is
not distributed across a larger area by yielding. There are a variety of
mitigation techniques for weld distortion and fit-up issues. Well-designed
fixtures position the parts precisely, and pneumatic actuators restrain
the parts during application of heat. (Hydraulic actuation is rarely used
for welding fixtures to avoid contamination by leaking fluid.) Alignment
is measured before welding, and extra pressure is applied, or trimming
operations are used, to bring the fit-up within specifications. Tack welds
can be used to restrain the parts and maintain alignment as heat is
applied. Spacing, depth of penetration and the sequence of application
are all important parameters in tack welding.
Weld processes with low energy density and a less concentrated heat
source, such as gas metal arc, are usually more prone to distortion. Areas
79
with thinner material, or areas that require more heat passes, exhibit
more distortion. Weld repair areas are more prone to excessive distortion,
because the part is subjected to multiple weld passes and solidification
shrinkage in repair areas. The additional heat reduces the strength of the
base metal by changing any previous tempering processes. Multiple welds
in the same area will also act on any residual stresses in the components
being joined, producing additional distortion and residual stress.
High-energy-density weld processes such as EB and laser welding
result in less distortion. Resistance welding, plasma arc, and GTAW fit
between these two extremes. This is primarily due to a smaller molten
pool along the weld seam, which reduces metal solidification shrinkage.
FSW produces less shrinkage because it does not melt the material.
After welding is completed, procedures typically require measurement
of the joint geometry to verify that reinforcement, peaking, and offset (or
mismatch) are within specification. If corrective measures are warranted,
planishing can be used to compress the weld reinforcement and correct
geometry problems. In rare cases, additional welding passes can be used
to shrink certain areas to bring the geometry into compliance. This
approach is less often used because of the risk of distortion.
Mechanical Assembly Processes

Mechanical fastening systems are well-developed for use on launch vehicles.
Major structural elements are joined using bolts and related fasteners
with precision, accuracy and predictable mechanical properties. While the
pressurized components of launch vehicle tanks are more typically welded,
mechanically fastened components are used for propellant feedline attach-
ments, venting components, personnel access covers and instrumentation
feed-throughs. Bolted connections allow disassembly and reassembly.
Keys to success with bolted joints include good fit and adequate fastener
torquing. Success is verified by measuring torque on the fastener and a
leak test. If fasteners are to be threaded to blind holes in an aluminum
structure, a threaded insert is normally used. In aerospace applications,
threaded fasteners require at least one locking device to prevent loss of
preload, and lock wire is typical for this application. Thread locking
compounds are not commonly used due to temperature extremes experi-
enced on launch vehicles, but thread sealing compound has been used on
the Space Shuttle External Tank to reduce infiltration of liquid nitrogen
80
7.10. Summary, Trends and Outlook
behind thermal protection foam.

Riveting has been used in unpressurized structures of launch vehicles
such as the Intertank subassembly of the Space Shuttle External Tank.
7.10 Summary, Trends and Outlook

Preparing for the launch of an expensive, specialized payload on an
expendable vehicle involves “good practice” processes that do not always
have a firm scientific basis. Low flight rates make it difficult to rationally
assess the costs and benefits of analysis, testing, and quality control. The
verification criteria, qualification strategies, and analysis methods that
have matured over the past few decades have been described here.
Space launch vehicles utilize many of the same materials as aircraft:
the 2000-, 6000- and 7000-series aluminum alloys, laminated and filament-
wound composites, high-strength steels, and titanium alloys. The need for
mass efficiency is the primary driver for both aircraft and LVs. However,
the frequent use of cryogenic propellants, as well as high aerodynamic
heating environments, impose challenging thermal conditions on LVs. On
the other hand, the short lifetime of expendable launchers reduces the
importance of fatigue, fracture, corrosion resistance and other properties
governing long-term material behavior. For reusable vehicles, fatigue and
fracture can be just as important as in aircraft, and the design of a robust,
reusable thermal protection system for atmospheric reentry requires all
materials and structures technology to be brought to bear.
Most of the material processing and joining technologies used in
aircraft are also used in launch vehicles. Welding is a key technology
in LV structures. Friction stir welding is arguably the most significant
advance in the state of the art of materials and structures since the
development of composites.
Aluminum-lithium alloys, now introduced on a large scale in the Space
Shuttle External Tank, represent a significant improvement in strength-
to-weight ratio over conventional aluminum alloys. Composite propellant
tanks can offer further gains in mass efficiency with judicious design, but
the need for robust joints and minimization of permeation after fatigue
remain significant roadblocks to the use of composites in pressurized
structure. However, filament-wound composite solid rocket motor cases
are a mature and widespread technology.
81
Composites continue to be an active area of research. Bolted and

bonded composite-to-composite or composite-to-metal joints present chal-
lenges to both design and analysis. Textile preforms, new methods of
curing and new matrix materials are all pathways to meeting these chal-
lenges. New materials such as aerogels, metal foam and nanocomposites
can be fabricated and tested at the laboratory scale; these materials
may soon find applications in production. Another technology enabling
the wider use of composites is rigorous methods for predicting gradual
progression of damage and assessing residual strength.
Looking further into the future, nanostructured materials such as
carbon nanotubes and graphene sheets appear to hold great promise.
These materials have interesting electrical and thermal properties as
well as extremely high specific strength and stiffness. Current research
seeks to reduce the cost of producing such materials and to assemble
them in quantities usable for structural applications. Modifying current
materials such as polymeric matrix materials for composites by the
addition of nanostructured materials may be a significant first step in
their more widespread use (see Chapter 3 for details.) A system study
predicted a factor of two improvement in weight if conventional carbon
fiber composites were used throughout a structure, but a factor of ten
improvement if projected properties of carbon fiber nanotube reinforced
materials could be realized [123].
Advanced materials identified in [123] and potentially applicable to
launch vehicle structures included:
• Titanum-aluminum alloy
• Alumina fiber/aluminum matrix composite
• Aluminum and titanium alloy foam as core materials for sandwich
structures
• Aluminum-beryllium alloys
• Silicon carbide fiber/beryllium matrix composite
• Carbon nanotube fiber/aluminum matrix composite
• Single-crystal metals, nanotube-reinforced alloys and new superal-
loys for high-temperature applications
• Ceramic matrix composites
Bionics or biomimetics [124] is another material and structural concept
that is a current topic of research. It has long been realized that if a
82
7.10. Summary, Trends and Outlook
structure were capable of large-scale adaptations, it could be optimized

for two or more very different environments and therefore be much more
efficient than a one-size-fits-all design. Flaps, slats and trim tabs may
be regarded as first steps down this path. Swing-wings and deployable
space structures display yet more adaptation, but these continue to use
conventional materials. A bionic structure would incorporate flexible
skin materials capable of large strains, as well as internal bracing akin
to a skeleton and actuators akin to muscles. Integral fluid passages
could provide both thermal control and the ability to change the shape
or stiffness of the structure by changing pressures or flow rates. Such
concepts could answer requirements for extremely efficient, adaptable,
robust launch vehicle structures in future reusable, SSTO syste
83
Bibliography
[1] Anonymous, “Aerobee Fired in Reusability Test,” Goddard News,

August 1976.
[2] Filin, V. M., “Energia Launch Vehicle: Development History and
Main Achievement,” Acta Astronautica, Vol. 43, No. 1-2, 1998.
[3] Anon, Annual Survey of Manufactures, Government Printing Office,
Washington, D.C., 2006.
[4] Hammond, W. E., Space Transportation: A Systems Approach to
Analysis and Design, AIAA Education Series, AIAA Press, Reston,
Virginia, 1999.
[5] Kyle, E., “http://www.spacelaunchreport.com,” Website, Retrieved
in June 2009.
[6] Chang, I.-S., “Investigation of Space Launch Vehicle Catastrophic
Failures,” AIAA J. Spacecraft and Rockets, Vol. 33, No. 2, 1996, A
catalog and analysis of worldwide space launch vehicle failures for
the period 1984 to 1994.
[7] Wilhite, A. W., Engelund, W. C., Stanley, D. O., Naftel, J. C.,
Lepsch, R. A., Bush, L. B., and Wurster, K. E., “Technology
and Staging Effects on Two-Stage-to-Orbit Systems,” J. Spacecraft
and Rockets, Vol. 31, No. 1, January 1994, pp. 31, Evaluation
of structural designs for horizontal takeoff and landing two-stage
systems.
85
Bibliography
[8] FAA, “Metallic Materials Properties Development and Standard-

ization,” Handbook MMPDS-02, FAA, Washington, D.C., April
2005.
[9] Anon, “Composite Materials Handbook, Revision G,” online hand-
book, 2009.
[10] Hart-Smith, L. J., “The Role of Biaxial Stresses in Discriminat-
ing Between Meaningful and Illusory Composite Failure Theories,”
Proceedings of Ninth DOD-NASA-FAA Conference on Fibrous Com-
posites in Structural Design, Vol. 3, FAA, 1992, pp. 1507–1528.
[11] Dawicke, D. S. and Pollock, W. D., “Biaxial Testing of 2219-T87
Aluminum Alloy Using Cruciform Specimens,” Contractor Report
4782, NASA, Hampton, Virginia, 1997.
[12] Chen, P. S. and Stanton, W. P., “A New Aging Treatment for
Improving Cryogenic Toughness of the Main Structural Alloy of
the Super Lightweight Tank,” Technical Report TM-1996-108524,
NASA Marshall Spaceflight Center, Huntsville, Ala., 1996, Tech-
nique for improving fracture properties of Al-Li alloy used on Space
Shuttle SLWT.
[13] Muraca, R. F. and Whittick, J. S., “Materials Data Handbook:
Stainless Steel Type 301,” Tech. rep., NASA, Marshall Space Flight
Center, Ala., April 1972.
[14] Key, C. F., “Materials Selection List for Space Hardware Systems,”
Tech. Rep. MSFC-HDBK-527, Marshall Space Flight Center, Mar-
shall Space Flight Center, Ala., September 1988.
[15] Anon, Aerospace Structural Metals Handbook , CINDAS LLC, West
Lafayette, Indiana, Updated annually.
[16] Kraemer, R. S. and Wheelock, V., Rocketdyne: Powering Humans
into Space, AIAA, 2005.
[17] Gutman, I. L. and Kulikova, G. V., “BURAN Orbital
Spaceship Airframe Creation: Non-Metallic Structural
Materials of the BURAN Orbiter,” http://www.buran-
energia.com/documentation/documentation-akc-non-metallic-
material.php, Retrieved in December 2009.
86
Bibliography
[18] Anon, “Fracture Control Requirements for Payloads using the Space
Shuttle,” NASA Standard 5003, October 1996.
[19] Gerard, G., “Optimum Structural Design Concepts for Aerospace
Vehicles,” J. Spacecraft , Vol. 3, No. 1, January 1966, pp. 5, A
comprehensive bibliography and review of the 1966 state of the art
in analytical optimum design of aerospace vehicle structures.
[20] Mukhopadhyay, V., “A Conceptual Aerospace Vehicle Structural
System Modeling, Analysis and Design Process,” Proceedings of
the 48th AIAA Structures, Structural Dynamics and Materials
Conference, AIAA, AIAA, Honolulu, 2007.
[21] Blair, J. C. and Ryan, R. S., “Role of Criteria in Design and
Management of Space Systems,” AIAA J. Spacecraft and Rockets,
Vol. 31, No. 2, 1994.
[22] Guikema, S. D. and Paté-Cornell, M. E., “Bayesian Analysis of
Launch Vehicle Success Rates,” J. Spacecraft and Rockets, Vol. 41,
No. 1, January-February 2004, pp. 93, Bayesian approach to pre-
dicting launch vehicle reliability with emphasis on vehicles with
little flight history.
[23] Miyazawa, M., “Homegrown technology for Japan’s heavy-lift
launcher,” IEEE Spectrum, Vol. 26, No. 3, March 1989, pp. 51–55.
[24] Anon, “Eastern and Western Range Safety Policies and Procedures,”
Tech. Rep. EWR 127-1 Rev. B, Range Safety Office, 45th Space
Wing and 30th Space Wing, U.S. Air Force, Patrick AFB, Florida,
April 2001.
[25] Anon, Range Safety User Requirements Manual , Air Force Space
Command, Peterson AFB, Colo., July 2004.
[26] Anon, Launch Safety Requirements for Air Force Space Command
Organizations, Air Force Space Command, Peterson AFB, Colo.,
February 2007.
[27] Hannum, J. A. E., “Hazards of Chemical Rockets and Propellants,”
Tech. Rep. 394, Chemical Propulsion Information Agency, Balti-
more, June 1985.
87
Bibliography
[28] Anon, Standard General Requirements for Safe Design and Op-
eration of Pressurized Missile and Space Systems, United States
Department of Defense, MIL-STD-1522, Los Angeles, 1984.
[29] Anon, “Streamlining Space Launch Range Safety,” Tech. rep., Na-
tional Research Council, Committee of Space Launch Range Safety,
Washington, D.C., 2000.
[30] Sarafin, T. P., editor, Spacecraft Structures and Mechanisms:
From Concept to Launch, Space Technology Library, Microcosm
Press/Springer, Hawthorne, Calif, 1995.
[31] Whitehair, C. L. and Wolfe, M. G., “The New U.S. Government
Space System Acquisition Policy and its Impact of Risk Management
Procedures,” Acta Astronautica, Vol. 40, No. 2-8, 1997.
[32] Gregory, F. D., “Safety and Mission Assurance in a Better, Faster,
Cheaper Environment,” Acta Astronautica, Vol. 39, 1996.
[33] Swanson, D., Matsunaga, S., and Lollock, R., “Mission Assurance:
“Baking In” Mission Success,” High Frontier , Vol. 6, No. 1, 2009.
[34] Weingarten, V. I., Seide, P., and Peterson, J. P., Buckling of Thin-
Walled Circular Cylinders, NASA, Marshall Space Flight Center,
Alabama, 1965, revised 1968, Analysis formulas, including knock-
down factors, for buckling of thin-walled shells.
[35] Bushnell, D., “Buckling of Shells - Pitfall for Designers,” AIAA
Journal , Vol. 19, No. 9, September 1981, pp. 1183, Discursive review
of the shell buckling problem and its relevance to launch vehicle
design.
[36] Hilburger, M. W., “Developing the Next Generation Shell Buck-
ling Design Factors and Technologies,” Proceedings of the 53rd
AIAA/ASME/ASCE/AHS/ASC Structures, Structural Dynamics
and Materials Conference, No. AIAA-2012-1686, AIAA, AIAA,
Honolulu, April 2012.
[37] Anon, Test Requirements for Launch, Upper-Stage and Space Vehi-
cles, United States Department of Defense, MIL-HDBK-340A, Los
Angeles, rev. a ed., 1999.
88
Bibliography
[38] Flynn, T. M., Cryogenic Engineering , CRC, 2nd ed., 2004, Chapter
11 covers material selection for cryogenic tanks.
[39] Bilstein, R. E., Stages to Saturn: A Technological History of the
Apollo/Saturn Launch Vehicles, No. SP-4206 in NASA History,
NASA, Washington, D. C., 1996.
[40] Bruhn, E. F., Analysis of Missile Structures, Tri-State Offset Com-
pany, 1967.
[41] Bert, C. W., Mills, E. J., and Hyler, W. S., “Mechanical Properties
of Aerospace Structural Alloys Under Biaxial-Stress Conditions,”
Technical Report TR-66-229, Battelle Memorial Institute - Colum-
bus Laboratories, Air Force Materials Laboratory, Wright-Patterson
AFB, Ohio, 1966.
[42] Shradler, J., MSFC-STD-1249, NDE Guidelines and Requirements
for Fracture Control Programs, NASA, Marshall Space Flight Cen-
ter, Alabama, 1985.
[43] Mynors, D. J. and Zhang, B., “Applications and capabilities of ex-
plosive forming,” J. Materials Processing Technology , Vol. 125-126,
September 2002, pp. 1–25, Explosive forming experience including
space launch applications.
[44] Slysh, P., “Isogrid Structures Technology and Applications,” Tech-
nical Report SAWE CAS-2, General Dynamics Convair Division,
Los Angeles, 1978.
[45] Birt, M. J., Domack, M. S., Hafley, R. A., and Pollock, W. D.,
“Characterization of Al-Cu-Li Alloy 2090 Near Net Shape Extrusion,”
Technical Report TM-1998-207668, NASA Langley Research Center,
Hampton, Va., 1998, Properties of skins and stiffeners fabricated
from Al-Cu-Li extrusions for space applications.
[46] Meyer, R. R., Harwood, O. P., and Orlando, J. I., “Isogrid Design
Manual,” Tech. Rep. CR-124075, NASA, Marshall Space Flight
Center, Alabama, February 1973.
[47] Mendez, P. F. and Eagar, T. W., “Welding Processes for Aero-
nautics,” Advanced Materials & Processes, May 2001, pp. 39–43,
Covers space launch applications as well.
89
Bibliography
[48] Anon, “Effects of Low Temperatures on Structural Metals,” Tech.

Rep. SP-5012, NASA, December 1964.
[49] Hunsicker, H. Y. and Hess, J. H., “New Weldable High Strength Alu-
minum Alloys for Cryogenic Service,” Technical Report N66-21814,
NASA Marshall Spaceflight Center, Huntsville, Ala., 1966, Overview
of aluminum alloys for cryogenic tanks, including weldability and
strength properties.
[50] Sessler, J. and Weiss, V., “Materials Data Handbook: Aluminum
Alloy 2219,” Tech. rep., NASA, Marshall Space Flight Center, Ala.,
March 1966.
[51] Pessin, M. A., “Lessons Learned from Space Shuttle External Tank
Development: A Technical History of the External Tank,” Techni-
cal report, NASA, Marshall Space Flight Center, Alabama, 2002,
Discussion of materials, processes and structures problems and solu-
tions encountered during development of all variants of the Shuttle
External Tank.
[52] Muraca, R. F. and Whittick, J. S., “Materials Data Handbook:
Aluminum Alloy 2014,” Tech. rep., NASA, Marshall Space Flight
Center, Ala., March 1972.
[53] Davis, R. A., “Evaluation of Welded 2219-T87 Aluminum Alloy,”
Technical report, NASA, Marshall Spaceflight Center, Ala., 1963,
Strength of MIG and TIG welds on 2219 alloy for Saturn SI-C
booster.
[54] Wagner, W. A., “Liquid Rocket Metal Tanks and Tank Components,”
Space Vehicle Design Criteria SP-8088, NASA Glenn Research
Center, Cleveland, 1974.
[55] Mendez, P. F. and Eagar, T. W., “New Trends in Welding in the
Aeronautic Industry,” Proceedings of the 2nd Conference of New
Manufacturing Trends, Bilbao, Spain, 2002.
[56] Cao, G. and Kou, S., “Friction Stir Welding of 2219 Aluminum:
Behavior of θ (Al2 Cu) particles,” Welding Research supplement to
the Welding Journal , January 2005, Micrographic study showing
that friction stir welding does not cause liquation of Alloy 2219.
90
Bibliography
[57] Hales, S. J. and Wagner, J. A., “Superplastic Forming of Al-Li

Alloys for lightweight, low-cost structures,” Technical Report N91-
24065, NASA Langley Research Center, Hampton, Va., 1991.
[58] Kirn, E. P., Graf, N. A., and Ely, K. W., “LOX-Compatible Com-
posite Tank for Aerospace Applications,” United States Patent
6837464, 2005.
[59] Anon, Reusable Launch Vehicle: Technology Development and Test
Program, National Academy Press, 1995, Policy-level overview of
material selection and structural design procedures for the ill-fated
X-33 reusable single-stage-to-orbit vehicle.
[60] Bhat, B. N., “Materials, Processes and Manufacturing in Ares I –
Upper Stage: Integration with Systems Design and Development,”
Proceedings of the National Space and Missile Materials Symposium,
NASA, Las Vegas, Nevada, June 2008.
[61] Pope, D. H. and Penner, J. E., “Testing of Polymeric Materials
for Use in Multiple-Ply Expulsion Bladders for Cryogenic Liquids,”
AIAA J. Spacecraft , Vol. 5, 1968.
[62] Gleich, D. and L’Hommedieu, F., “Metallic Bladders for Cryogenic
Fluid Storage and Expulsion Systems,” AIAA J. Spacecraft , Vol. 5,
No. 9, 1968.
[63] Calabro, M., Bonnal, C., and Lenstch, A., “ELV: Pressure-fed
LOX/LH2 upper stage,” Acta Astronautica, Vol. 64, March 2009,
pp. 1015–1020.
[64] Cataldo, C. E., “Compatibility of Metals with Hydrogen,” Technical
Memorandum X-53807, NASA, Marshall Space Flight Center, Ala.,
1968.
[65] Martin, R. E., “The Atlas and Centaur “Steel Balloon” Tanks:
A Legacy of Karel Bossart,” Proceedings of the 40th Congress of
the International Astronautical Federation, No. IAA-89-738, In-
ternational Astronautical Federation, International Astronautical
Federation, Malaga, Spain, October 1989, Development history of
the steel balloon tanks, written by an early participant.
91
Bibliography
[66] Sankar, B., Xu, J., and Pelt, J. V., “Lightweight Composite Tanks
for Liquid Hydrogen Storage,” Tech. rep., NASA, Cleveland, Ohio,
2008, Hydrogen permeability study of composites via microcracks.
[67] Morino, Y., Shimoda, T., Morimoto, T., Ishikawa, T., and Aoki,
T., “Applicability of CFRP materials to the cryogenic propellant
tank for reusable launch vehicle (RLV),” Adv. Composite Mater.,
Vol. 10, No. 4, 2001, pp. 339–347.
[68] Cast, J., “Composite Hydrogen Tank Test Completed for DC-XA,”
NASA Headquarters press release 96-13, January 1996.
[69] Harris, C. E., Starnes, J. H., and Shuart, M. J., “An Assessment
of the State-of-the-Art in the Design and Manufacturing of Large
Composite Structures for Aerospace Vehicles,” Report TM-2001-
210844, NASA, Hampton, Virginia, 2001, A comprehensive survey
of composite primary structures for commercial fixed-wing aircraft,
rotorcraft, and space launch vehicles.
[70] Hartunian, B., “McDonnell Douglas Composite Cryotanks - A
Personal History,” High-Performance Composites, 2006.
[71] Robinson, M., “Composite Structures on the DC-XA Reusable
Launch Vehicle,” Journal of Advanced Materials, Vol. 28, No. 3,
1997, pp. 9–18.
[72] Heydenreich, R., “Cryotanks in future vehicles,” Cryogenics, Vol. 38,
No. 1, January 1998, pp. 125–130, Discusses carbon-fiber reinforced
plastic (composite) tanks for liquid oxygen and hydrogen storage
in launch vehicles.
[73] Graf, N. A., Schieleit, G. F., and Biggs, R., “Adhesive Bonding
Characterization of Composite Joints for Cryogenic Usage,” NASA,
NASA, Boston, 2000.
[74] Miller, S. G. and Meador, M. A., “Polymer-Layered Silicate
Nanocomposites for Cryotank Applications,” Proceedings of the
48th AIAA/ASME/ASCE/AHS/ASC Structures, Structural Dy-
namics and Materials Conference, AIAA, AIAA, Honolulu, April
2007, Characteristics of layered silicate nanocomposites in cryotank
applications.
92
Bibliography
[75] Pavlick, M. M., Johnson, W. S., Jensen, B., and Weiser, E., “Evalu-
ation of mechanical properties of advanced polymers for composite
cryotank applications,” Composites: Part A, Vol. 40, 2009, pp. 359–
367.
[76] Black, S., “An update on composite tanks for cryogens,” High-
Performance Composites, 2005.
[77] Whitfield, H. K., “Solid Rocket Motor Metal Cases,” Space Vehicle
Design Criteria SP-8025, NASA Glenn Research Center, Cleveland,
1970.
[78] Peters, S. T., Humphrey, W. D., and Foral, R., Filament Winding
Composite Structure Fabrication, Society for the Advancement of
Material and Process Engineering, Covina, Calif., 2nd ed., 1999,
Overview of the filament winding process for building composite
rocket motor cases, pressure vessels, fuselage sections and other
aerospace structures.
[79] Poe, C. C., “Summary of a Study to Determine Low-Velocity Impact
Damage and Residual Tension Strength for a Thick Graphite-Epoxy
Motor Case,” Technical Memorandum TR-102678, NASA Langley
Research Center, Hampton, Virginia, 1990.
[80] Gargiulo, C., Marchetti, M., and Rizzo, A., “Prediction of Failure
Envelopes of Composite Tubes Subjected to Biaxial Loadings,” Acta
Astronautica, Vol. 39, No. 5, 1996.
[81] Bert, C. W. and Hyler, W. S., “Design Considerations in Material
Selection for Rocket Motor Cases,” AIAA J. Spacecraft and Rockets,
Vol. 4, No. 6, 1967.
[82] Alexander, R. V. and Fournier, C. A., “Cost and Performance
Considerations in the Selection of Structural Materials for Ultra-
Large-Size Booster Motors,” AIAA J. Spacecraft , Vol. 1, No. 1,
1963.
[83] Pionke, L. J. and Garland, K. C., “Evaluation of Shuttle Solid
Rocket Booster Case Materials,” Contractor report, NASA, Mar-
shall Space Flight Center, Ala., 1973.
93
Bibliography
[84] Daniels, C. M., “Liquid Rocket Lines, Bellows, Flexible Hoses,

and Filters,” Space Vehicle Design Criteria SP-8123, NASA Glenn
Research Center, Cleveland, 1977.
[85] Nettles, A. T., “Impact Damage Resistance of Carbon/Epoxy Com-
posite Tubes for the DC-XA Liquid Hydrogen Feedline,” Technical
Paper 3583, NASA, Marshall Space Flight Center, Ala., 1995.
[86] Thesken, J. C., Murthy, P., and Phoenix, L., “Composite Overwrap
Pressure Vessels: Mechanics and Stress Rupture Lifing Philosophy,”
Proceedings of the 48th AIAA/ASME/ASCE/AHS/ASC Structures,
Dynamics and Materials Conference, AIAA, Honolulu, 2007.
[87] Saulsberry, R., Greene, N., Cameron, K., Madaras, E., Grimes-
Ledesma, L., Thesken, J., Phoenix, L., Murthy, P., and Revilock,
D., “Nondestructive Methods and Special Test Instrumentation
Supporting NASA Composite Overwrapped Pressure Vessel Assess-
ments,” Proceedings of the 48th AIAA/ASME/ASCE/AHS/ASC
Structures, Dynamics and Materials Conference, AIAA, Honolulu,
2007.
[88] Anon, “Composite Overwrapped Pressure Vessels (COPVs),” AIAA
Standard for Space Systems, 2006.
[89] Armstrong, H. H., Burns, A. B., and Crawford, R. G., “Large
Stiffened Cylinder Weight-Cost Comparisons between Be-38% Al
and Other Materials,” AIAA J. Spacecraft , Vol. 4, No. 3, 1967.
[90] Vosteen, L. F. and Hadcock, R. N., “Composite chronicles; A study
of the lessons learned in the development, production and service
of composite structures,” Report CR-4620, NASA, 1994.
[91] Kobayashi, M., Sakai, S., and Shimizu, R., “Development of H-2A
launch vehicle composite interstage structure,” Advanced Composite
Materials, Vol. 10, No. 2,3, 2001, pp. 247–253.
[92] Stalder, J. R., “The Useful Heat Capacity of Several Materials
for Ballistic Nose-Cone Construction,” Technical note TN-4141,
Ames Aeronautical Laboratory, National Advisory Committee for
Aeronautics, Washington, 1957.
[93] Radcliffe, R. L., “Surveyor Nose Fairing Mode Survey,” Contractor
Report CR-54524, General Dynamics / Astronautics Division, San
94
Bibliography
Diego, 1964, Contains design description of an early launch vehicle

payload fairing.
[94] Butcher, J. R., “The Separation Test in Vacuum of the Ariane 4 Pay-
load Fairing,” Proceedings of the 15th Space Simulation Conference,
NASA Goddard Spaceflight Center, 1988.
[95] Duret, F., “Small and Medium Launch Vehicles to Extend the
Ariane 5 Transportation Service,” Acta Astronautica, Vol. 40, No.
2-8, 1997, Design descriptions of several Russian launchers.
[96] Schwingel, D., Seelinger, H.-W., Vecchionacci, C., Alwes, D., and
Dittrich, J., “Aluminium foam sandwich structures for space applica-
tions,” Acta Astronautica, Vol. 61, 2007, pp. 326–220, An aluminum
foam-core sandwich structure is manufactured and tested.
[97] Lane, S. K., Henderson, K., Williams, A., and Ardelean, E., “Cham-
ber Core Structures for Fairing Acoustic Mitigation,” AIAA J.
Spacecraft and Rockets, Vol. 44, No. 1, 2007.
[98] Ochinero, T., Deiters, T., Higgins, J., Arritt, B., Blades,
E., and III, J. N., “Design and Testing of a Large Com-
posite Asymmetric Payload Fairing,” Proceedings of the 50th
AIAA/ASME/ASCE/AHS/ASC Structures, Structural Dynamics
and Materials Conference, AIAA, AIAA, Palm Springs, Calif., May
2009.
[99] Scolamiero, L., “Modeling of Honeycomb Core for Sandwich CTE
Predictions,” Proceedings of the International Conference on Space-
craft Structures and Mechanical Testing , Noordwijk, Netherlands,
1991.
[100] Kaplan, A., “Debonding of Graphite Sandwich Panels,” Proceedings
of the 43rd International SAMPE Symposium, 1998.
[101] Anon, Insert Design Handbook , No. PSS-03-1202, European Space
Agency, 1987.
[102] Anon, Handbook for the Montreal Protocol on Substances That
Deplete the Ozone Layer , Ozone Secretariat, United Nations En-
vironment Programme, 7th ed., International treaty agreements
limiting the use of ozone-depleting substances such as foam insula-
tion blowing agents.
95
Bibliography
[103] Noever, D. A., Cronise, R. J., Wessling, F. C., McMannus, S. P.,

Mathews, J., and Patel, D., “Gravitational Effects on Closed-
Cellular-Foam Microstructure,” AIAA J. Spacecraft and Rockets,
Vol. 33, No. 2, 1996.
[104] Bednarcyk, B. A., Aboudi, J., Arnold, S. M., and SUllivan, R. M.,
“Micromechanics of Spray-On Foam Insulation,” Proceedings of the
43rd annual technical meeting of the society of engineering science,
NASA, University Park, Pennsylvania, 2006.
[105] Bauer, P. E. and Kummer, D. L., “Development and Performance
of the Gemini Ablative Heat Shield,” AIAA J. Spacecraft , Vol. 3,
No. 10, 1966.
[106] Milhoan, J. D. and Pham, V. T., “Thermal Certification Tests of
Orbiter Thermal Protection System Tiles Coated with KSC Coating
Slurries,” Technical memorandum 104766, NASA Johnson Space
Center, Houston, Texas, 1993, Contains a description of the Space
Shuttle Orbiter insulation tiles.
[107] Rasky, D. J., Milos, F. S., and Squire, T. H., “TPS Materials
and Costs for Future Reusable Launch Vehicles,” Technical report,
NASA, Ames Research Center, 2000.
[108] Sumrall, J., Lane, C., and Cusic, R., “VentureStar...Reaping the
Benefits of the X-33 Program,” Acta Astronautica, Vol. 44, No. 7-12,
1999, Discusses the design of the X-33 and its planned follow-on,
VentureStar.
[109] Gogu, C., Bapanapalli, S. K., Haftka, R. T., and Sankar, B. V.,
“Comparison of Materials for an Integrated Thermal Protection
System for Spacecraft Reentry,” AIAA J. Spacecraft and Rockets,
Vol. 46, No. 3, 2009.
[110] Lindell, M. C., Hughes, S. J., Dixon, M., and Willey,
C. E., “Structural Analysis and Testing of the Inflatable Re-
entry Vehicle Experiment (IRVE),” Proceedings of the 47th
AIAA/ASME/ASCE/AHS/ASC Structures, Dynamics and Ma-
terials Conference, Newport, Rhode Island, 2006.
[111] Rakow, J. A. and Waas, A. M., “Response of Actively Cooled
Metal Foam Sandwich Panels Exposed to Thermal Loading,” AIAA
96
Bibliography
Journal , Vol. 45, No. 2, February 2007, pp. 329, Thermal and
mechanical behavior of metal foam sandwich panels for load-bearing,
actively cooled structures.
[112] Henson, G. M., “Engineering Models for Synthetic Microvascular
Materials with Interphase Mass, Momentum and Energy Transfer,”
Int J. Solids and Structures, Vol. 50, No. 14-15, 2013.
[113] Fesmire, J. E., “Aerogel insulation systems for space launch ap-
plications,” Cryogenics, Vol. 46, No. 2-3, February-March 2006,
pp. 111–117.
[114] Fesmire, J. E. and Sass, J. P., “Aerogel insulation applications for
liquid hydrogen launch vehicle tanks,” Cryogenics, Vol. 48, No. 5-6,
May-June 2008, pp. 223–231.
[115] Caogen, Y., Hongjun, L., Zhonghua, J., Xinchao, J., Yan, L., and
Haigang, L., “A study on metallic thermal protection system panel
for Reusable Launch Vehicle,” Acta Astronautics, Vol. 63, March
2008, pp. 280–284.
[116] Johnson, M. R., “Friction Stir Welding Takes Off at Boeing,” Weld-
ing J., Vol. 78, No. 2, 1999.
[117] Cohen, H., “Space Reliability Technology: A Historical Perspective,”
IEEE Transactions on Reliability , Vol. R-33, No. 1, 1984.
[118] Hoffman, E., Pecquet, R., and Arbegast, W., “Compression Buck-
ling Behavior of Large-Sale Friction Stir Welded and Riveted 2090-
T83 Al-Li Alloy Skin-Stiffener Panels,” Report TM-2002-211770,
NASA, 2002.
[119] Nemeth, M., “Effects of Welding-Induced Imperfections on Behavior
of Space Shuttle Superlightweight Tank,” J. Spacecraft and Rockets,
Vol. 36, No. 6, 1999.
[120] Davis, D. and McArthur, J., “NASA Ares I Crew Launch
Vehicle Upper Stage Overview,” Proceedings of the 44th
AIAA/ASME/SAE/ASEE Joint Propulsion Conference and Ex-
hibit , AIAA, AIAA, 2008.
[121] Chang, I.-S., “Space Launch Vehicle Reliability,” Crosslink , October
2008.
97
Bibliography
[122] Ryan, R. and Townsend, J., “Fundamentals and Issues in Launch

Vehicle Design,” J. Spacecraft and Rockets, Vol. 34, No. 2, 1997,
Discusses carbon-fiber reinforced plastic (composite) tanks for liquid
oxygen and hydrogen storage in launch vehicles.
[123] Harris, C. E., Shuart, M. J., and Gray, H. R., “A Survey of Emerg-
ing Materials for Revolutionary Aerospace Vehicle Structures and
Propulsion Systems,” Report TM-2002-211664, NASA, Hampton,
Virginia, 2002.
[124] Bar-Cohen, Y., editor, Biomimetics: Biologically Inspired Technolo-
gies, CRC Taylor & Francis, Boca Raton, Florida, 2006.
98

PDF

Uploaded by

Document Informationclick to expand document information

Copyright:

Available Formats

PDF

Uploaded by

Document Information

Original Title

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

PDF

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

https://ntrs.nasa.gov/search.jsp?

Materials for Launch Vehicle

and China have developed and operated a significant number of LVs.

7.2 Launch Vehicle Structures

7.3 Basic Material Characteristics

• material strength, based on any applicable failure criteria,

properties are not as readily available as metal properties, because of the

Although much of the effort to develop requirements and materials for

Durability and Reusability

in which thousands of flights may be accumulated are not yet possible

size. In addition, the fracture control program places restrictions on

specialized tests are needed. A less desirable, but nevertheless common,

Rational Methods of Materials Selection

7.4 Structural Design and Requirements

Development practices in LV materials and structures are an interest-

• to contain and deliver working fluids to the propulsion, guidance

Laws and Regulations

7.4. Structural Design and Requirements

to the public due to space launches should be no greater than that

language, and the range user is given more discretion in implementation.

Verification and Qualification

in the 1990s [31]. This was part of a government-wide political initiative

determined by analysis using material yield and ultimate strengths (which

15⁄(1.25x10) – 1 = +22% (7.1)

to account for uncertainty in the load. Therefore, the stated margin of

Stiffness is as important as strength in LVs. The thin-walled con-

Pitfalls, Controversies and Engineering Judgment

must it be re-tested? From this scenario comes the idea of qualification

long history of success in operating structures qualified by test, but those

for a single structure, this will not be empirically distinguishable from

7.5 Pressurized Structure

forces for a pressurized thin-walled cylinder subject to an external com-

p(z) = ρz(a + g) + pull , (7.2)

P̄ (z) = P0 − m(z)a − πR2 ρh(a + g) − πR2 pull , (7.3)

P̄ (z) = P − πR2 pull . (7.4)

σz,comp (z) = − ̅P(z) − M (7.5)

and the largest longitudinal tensile stress is

σz,comp (z) = - P+eq + pullR (7.10)

q (z,comp) = - P+eq + pullR (7.12)

The Leak-Before-Burst Criterion

Stable Metal Tanks

The stiffening of tank walls by integrally machined stiffeners increases

External Tank designs [51].

from the review by Martin [65].

A-basis Yield Density Specific Strength

it can be seen that 301 stainless steel offers an advantage, especially in

a 20-40% weight saving compared to an equivalent metal tank [66, 67].

composite LH2 propellant tank, including a major test failure.

microcracking due primarily to thermal stress is known to contribute to

ranging from +320 ◦ F to −310 ◦ F. It was found that cryogenic temper-

Solid Rocket Motor Cases

Gargiulo et al. [80] compared failure envelopes generated by several

7.6 Feedlines, Small Lines and Pressure Vessels

load, because of dynamic excitation and flow-induced vibration. They

pressurization, and the like. High pressures may need to be withstood.

7.7 Unpressurized Structure

Intertanks, Skirts, Adapters, etc.

Armstrong et al. [89] examined the use of a beryllium-aluminum