In July, I was delighted to see the celebrations (and particularly the documentaries) that surrounded the Apollo 11 anniversary – particularly as I’m from the UK. I had, incorrectly, assumed that the anniversary would be acknowledged but largely ignored. In recent years, Apollo has become nothing more than a page in history for a nation that seemingly cares little for space exploration (much to my disappointment), or worse – the butt of jokes about it all being a hoax. I’ll never view one of my favourite comedians, Frankie Boyle, quite the same way again after he roundly abused the landings on satirical news show Mock The Week. It would seem so terribly British to condemn something so wonderful to nothing more than a gag for a cheap laugh.

However, when the anniversary arrived, I was pleasantly surprised. BBC4 treated viewers to “The Moon Season”, a series of revealing documentaries on Apollo and all that surrounded it. The anniversary was a main bulletin point of many a news show, and certain documentaries even made their way to main stream programming (BBC4 is a freeview channel). I was asked to appear on BBC Essex Radio to do some hoax busting, adding to a general feel that – yes, people still care about Apollo.

I knew, however, that such pleasant surprises did not await me come November, and the 40th anniversary of the second lunar landing – Apollo 12. As yet, I have not been incorrect in assuming this anniversary would be forgotten. Sandwiched between the ultimate first of Apollo 11 and the drama of Apollo 13, Apollo 12 is largely dismissed as just another chapter of history.

And now, a confession: Apollo 12 is my favourite of the lunar landings. I have spent many an evening chuckling over in-flight transcriptions as Messrs Conrad, Bean and Gordon seemingly joke their way to the Ocean of Storms. For me, this is a mission that had it all: spectacular accuracy in flying, colourful and interesting astronauts, geological interest and, yes, a bit of drama, too. While it will never have the majesty of 11, the heart-stopping fear of 13 or the “chapter closed” nostalgia of 17 – for me, Apollo 12 is endlessly fascinating. I read those transcripts for pure enjoyment.

Part of me feels that Apollo 12 has been cheated its place in history. The lightning strikes that nearly crippled the mission were, in the pre-Apollo-13 time, the most serious in-flight event to occur during an Apollo mission. Yet with 13, even this place in history was denied (though I’m quite sure Jim Lovell and company could have done without that particular marker!).

Last night, in the UK, was Bonfire Night – or Guy Fawkes’ Night, a night when the country lets out explosive fireworks that terrify my cats to celebrate the events of November 5th 1605. This is the anniversary of the night a set of conspirators set to blow up the Houses of Parliament was discovered, saving monarch and court. To go with the celebration there is a rhyme any British child knows by rote: “Remember remember the fifth of November / gunpowder, treason and plot / I know of no reason / why gunpowder treason / should ever be forgot”.

Now, while I’m sure you’ve enjoyed this brief glimpse into British history, I do have a point. As fireworks exploded outside my living room window, I wondered for a moment if “Remember, Remember” should apply to another November event. Unfortunately “the eleventh of November” spoils the iambic pentameter of the poem, but nevertheless, the point remains: Apollo 12 does not deserve its place as one of the forgotten missions. In fact, none of the missions do, but from a truly biased point of view – especially not Apollo 12.

While I admire Neil Armstrong, am fascinated by Buzz Aldrin and believe Michael Collins to be one of the greatest biographers of all time, they are nevertheless not the most… compelling of trios. Intent, focused and dedicated, the Apollo 11 crew were the epitome of quiet speculation and amazement, their personality somehow lost in the majesty of what they were attempting to achieve. While Collins went on to write one of my favourite books of all time, his sparkling wit is also lost in the grandeur of “the Eagle has landed”.

Commander of Apollo 12, Pete Conrad, had a favourite saying: “be good, or be colourful”. As the impressive Collins points out in his book; Pete himself was both very good and very colourful. Accompanied by his Gemini-crewmate and friend Dick Gordon, and the quiet but entertaining Alan Bean, the Apollo 12 crew were shining examples of how astronauts need not be dull American-hero types. They were all colourful, and they were all extremely good. Couple this with the phenomenal success of Apollo 12 on virtually every mission objective, and I firmly believe Apollo 12 is the case for “remember, remember”.

I have always said, for me, the fascination with Apollo began with the men – the astronauts, the people who strapped themselves to a rocket and hoped to God they’d see earth again. Over time, I have discovered that for the non-Apollo fan, it is this they identify with most when I try to explain why Apollo inspires such wonder in me. While I have gone on to adore the technical aspects, for me, Apollo is at its greatest when it is telling the story of three men going on a journey together. And nothing does this better than Apollo 12; crew mates, Navy comrades and friends.

To this end, I will spend the next fortnight writing almost solely about Apollo 12 on this blog. There is much to write, much to enjoy, and much to celebrate. It is 40 years since Navy sailors left footprints on the Ocean of Storms, and I for one am soundly determined to remember indeed.