In aviation, we are taught many things. We are taught systems, procedures, limitations, regulations, fuel planning, performance calculations, and emergency drills. We are tested, checked, monitored, and retrained throughout our careers. Entire manuals exist for almost every situation imaginable. Yet some of the most important things are never written down.
Whenever I carry special cargo such as gold, silver, dangerous goods, or high-value consignments, I receive a NOTOC, a “Notification to Captain”. It tells me what is being carried, where it is loaded, how much it weighs, and what actions to take if something goes wrong. I receive similar paperwork when I carry human remains. Usually, there is an accompanying passenger, perhaps a husband, wife, son, daughter, brother, or someone making a journey they never wished to make.
By the time they board, they are often exhausted. Grief has a way of stealing sleep, appetite, and clarity of thought. Airports, security checks, baggage belts, and boarding gates all become obstacles to be endured rather than experiences to be remembered. Once boarding is complete and the aircraft settles into its routine, I ask for the seat number of the accompanying passenger. Then I walk back. I introduce myself quietly and offer my condolences. There is nothing rehearsed or dramatic, just a few words. I tell them their loved one is on board, that the journey is being handled with dignity and respect, and that every effort has been made to ensure they are cared for.
I then brief my cabin crew to keep an eye on the passenger. If they need a meal, a drink, or simply some kindness, we provide it, not because a manual says so, but because it is the decent thing to do. Over the years, I have carried many on their final journey.
A few days ago, I had the honour of carrying a fallen soldier home. He had died serving the country in the north. His duty was complete. Ours was just beginning. I followed the same routine. I paid my respects to the family, briefed the lead cabin attendant and conducted the flight.
Later, one of the cabin crew asked me a question.
“Captain… Where is this written? Which operating manual covers it? What’s the SOP?”
It was an honest question. I told her there wasn’t one. Perhaps one day companies will develop procedures for such moments. Perhaps they will teach them in classrooms and discuss them in recurrent training. But some things cannot be taught that way.
There is a quiet, unwritten code.
You learn it by observing those who came before you, and you absorb it through service, responsibility, and experience. Nobody hands it to you, nobody signs it off, and nobody audits it. You simply know.
After a smooth landing in central India, while passengers were gathering their bags and thinking about their onward journeys, I walked down the side stairs and made my way to the cargo hold.
The soldier was still there.
I stopped….I saluted., Then I turned and walked away. There were no speeches, no audience, no photographs, and no applause.
Just respect.
My First Officer, like most these days, was busy in the after flight routine of checking messages and sorting out transport and hotel arrangements for our stay. There was no need to explain any of this to him. He would probably be too busy, distracted, disinterested, or just ask, where is it written. Not his fault at all… it’s just how one is wired these days. Men and women who have served usually understand without words… others need an article in English.
So young man, if you are reading this…. that’s where I was, that’s what I was doing, that’s why it took time sir.
To the younger generation entering aviation, and perhaps to those outside it as well, remember this: Not everything important appears in a manual. Professionalism is following procedures correctly. Character is knowing when something more is required.
The finest traditions in aviation, military service, and life itself are often the ones that are never taught. They are simply passed on. And someday, when your moment comes, you will understand why.
It is, after all, a sacred code. And when your own final journey begins, the measure of your life will not be the manuals you followed, but the respect that follows you home.
Captain Akshay
04th Jun 2026
