A Soldier's Story

An airline captain writes:

My lead flight attendant came to me and said, "We have an H.R. on this flight." (H.R. stands for human remains)

"Are they military?" I asked.
"Yes," she answered.
"Is there an escort?" I asked.
"Yes, I've already assigned him a seat".

"Would you please tell him to come to the flight deck. You can board him early," I said.

A short while later, a young army sergeant entered the flight deck. He was the image of the perfectly dressed soldier. He introduced himself and I asked him about his soldier. (The escorts of these fallen soldiers talk about them as if they are still alive and still with us).

"My soldier is on his way back to Virginia," he said. He proceeded to answer my questions, but offered no words of his own.

I asked him if there was anything I could do for him and he said no. I told him he had the toughest job in the military and that I appreciated the work that he does for the families of our fallen soldiers. The first officer and I got up out of our seats to shake his hand, and then he left the flight deck to find his seat.

We completed our preflight checks, pushed back and performed an uneventful departure. About thirty minutes into our flight, I received a call from the lead flight attendant in the cabin.

"I just found out the family of the soldier we are carrying, is on board," she said.

She proceeded to tell me that the father, mother, wife and two-year old daughter were escorting their son, husband, and father home. The family was upset because they had been unable to see the coffin the soldier was in before we left. We were on our way to a major hub where the family was going to have to wait four hours for the connecting flight home to Virginia.

The father of the soldier told the flight attendant that knowing his son was below him in the cargo compartment and being unable to see him had been difficult for him and the family to bear. He had asked the flight attendant if there was anything that could be done to allow them to see him upon our arrival. The family wanted to be outside by the cargo door to watch their soldier being taken off the airplane.

I could hear the desperation in the flight attendant's voice when she asked me if there was anything I could do. "I'm on it," I said, and I told her that I would get back to her.

Airborne communication with my company normally occurs in the form of text messages. I decided to bypass this system and contact my flight dispatcher directly on a secondary radio. There's a radio operator in the operations control center who connects you to the phone of the dispatcher, so I was in direct contact with the dispatcher. I explained the situation I had on board with the family and what it was the family had asked. He said he understood and that he would get back to me.

Two hours went by and I had not heard from the dispatcher. We were going to get busy soon and I needed to know what to tell the family. I sent a text message asking for an update. I saved the return message from the dispatcher and the following is the text:

"Captain, sorry it has taken so long to get back to you. There is a policy on this now and I had to check on a few things. Upon your arrival, a dedicated escort team will meet the aircraft. The team will escort the family to the ramp and planeside. A van will be used to load the remains, with a secondary van for the family. The family will be taken to their departure area and escorted into the terminal where the remains can be viewed on the ramp. It is a private area for the family only. When the connecting aircraft arrives, the family will be escorted onto the ramp and planeside to watch the remains being loaded for the final leg home. Captain, most of us here in flight control are veterans. Please pass our condolences on to the family. Thanks."

I sent a message back telling flight control thanks for a good job. I printed out the message and gave it to the lead flight attendant to pass on to the father. The lead flight attendant was very thankful and told me, "You have no idea how much this will mean to them."

Things started getting busy for the descent, approach and landing. After landing, we cleared the runway and taxied to the ramp area. The ramp is huge with fifteen gates on either side of the alleyway. It's always a busy area with aircraft maneuvering every which way to enter and exit. When we entered the ramp and checked in with the ramp controller, we were told that all traffic was being held for us.

"There is a team in place to meet the aircraft," we were told.

It looked like it was all coming together, then I realized that once we turned the seat belt sign off, everyone would stand up at once and delay the family from getting off the airplane. As we approached our gate, I asked the copilot to tell the ramp controller we were going to stop short of the gate to make an announcement to the passengers. He did that and the ramp controller said, "Take your time."

I stopped the aircraft and set the parking brake. I pushed the public address button and said, "Ladies and gentleman, this is your Captain speaking. I've stopped short of our gate to make a special announcement. We have a passenger on board who deserves our honor and respect. His Name is Private Benjamin Smith, a soldier who recently lost his life. Private Smith is under your feet in the cargo hold. Also on board, are his father, mother, wife, and daughter. Escorting him today is Army Sergeant Will Jones. Your entire flight crew is asking for all passengers to remain in their seats to allow the family to exit the aircraft first. Thank you."

We continued the turn to the gate, came to a stop and started our shutdown procedures. A couple of minutes later, I opened the cockpit door. I found the two forward flight attendants crying, something you just do not see. I was told that after we came to a stop, every passenger on the aircraft stayed in their seat, waiting for the family to exit the aircraft.

When the family got up and gathered their things, a passenger slowly started to clap his hands. Moments later, more passengers joined in and soon the entire aircraft was clapping. Words of "God Bless You, I'm sorry, thank you, be proud," and other kind words were uttered to the family as they made their way down the aisle and out of the airplane. They were escorted down to the ramp to finally be with their loved one.

Many of the passengers disembarking thanked me for the announcement I had made. I told them, "They were just words. I could say them over and over again, but nothing I could say will bring back that brave soldier."

I respectfully ask that all of you reflect on this event and the sacrifices that millions of our men and women have made to ensure our freedom and safety in these United States of America.

Most sincerely yours,
Captain Jeffery Stanton

Foot note:
As a Vietnam widow, I think of the soldiers, especially the ones that ride below the decks of planes, since that had also been my Doug, on their way home. When I read things like this, I'm proud our country is not turning its back on our soldiers returning from the various war zones. I pray we will always give them the respect they so deserve.

I don't know who actually received this account from the airline captain. Someone thoughtfully sent it to me in an email and it touched me deeply -- it was so powerful that I had to share it.

Vietnam vets, I'm still waiting for your memories, your stories, your feelings. Please share. I'm not asking you to do anything that I am not doing, myself. I'm sharing parts of me, parts of Doug, with you because I respect you and what you did for all of us ...

God Bless America! God bless you ...