RSL Ch 22

I walked back into the living room after seeing off the guests. I stopped Han Jae-yi, who was clearing the table by himself. It was all packaged food, so there was no end to the trash. I was just finishing up and putting it in a trash bag when Han Jae-yi pulled out a beer from the fridge. He only drank water when he had guests, so it seemed odd that he was drinking now.

“That’s the guy who dropped you off, right?”

“Who? Co-pilot Cho Min-woo? Yeah, that’s right.”

He stopped clearing the table and sat down on a chair. He stretched out his long legs and muttered to himself.

“He’s a bit of an asshole.”

I looked at him, wondering if I had misheard. I couldn’t understand why he would say something like that after just exchanging a few words.

“Why?”

“I don’t know. It’s just his attitude. Acting like he’s something…”

He swallowed his words down and drank his beer. Just when I thought he was finally feeling better, he was irritated again by Cho Co-pilot’s strange demeanor. Leaving Han Jae-yi alone, I took the trash bag and went outside. The night air felt damp against my skin.

* * *

The next day I picked up my uniform from the dry cleaners. I took a quick shower and sat down on the living room couch to read a book. I didn’t feel like eating breakfast, but Han Jae-yi made me French toast. I was disappointed that there was no fruit. After a simple meal, he went to work in his room. Maybe it was because the day had changed, but he seemed to have lost the sensitivity he had yesterday.

I didn’t recall receiving standby calls often even in Germany, so I thought today would end as another day off. But then the phone rang. It was a call from the company.

-Hello. Are you available for a flight from Gimpo to Osaka right now?

“Yes, what time’s the show-up?”

-It’s in an hour. The flight is CR711, but you’ll need to see A320 PM, is that okay?

“Yes, no problem.”

It seemed like the captain’s seat was vacant again. I quickly changed into my uniform and got ready to leave. I knocked on Han Jae-yi’s door and called him out. He seemed disappointed when I told him I might have to go out.

“I made reservations to go to a nice place for dinner.”

“Sorry. I won’t be back until after 10 when I get home.”

“What about tomorrow?”

“I have a flight tomorrow too. Shanghai.”

“Can’t be helped. Take care and fly safely when you go.”

His tone sounded like he was telling me to be careful driving a car, so I couldn’t help but chuckle. Maybe he was aiming for that reaction as he laughed too.

I rushed out the front door, leaving Han Jae-yi standing on the threshold to see me off. I barely had time to check my logbook before I hopped in a taxi to Gimpo Airport.

Getting out of the taxi, I headed straight to the crew room and received today’s flight documents from the operations staff before immediately going for the check-in. There were only 10 minutes left until show-up. Since it was a short flight, there didn’t seem to be anything unusual. While checking the weather and wind at Kansai International Airport and jotting down notes, someone approached and extended their hand.

“Are you the standby Captain? I’m Captain Park Jong-dae, who will be the PIC today.”

“Hello. I’m Maximilian Schmitz.”

He looked like he was in his sixties. His loud voice and pronunciation were discernible. Wrinkle-free uniform and stiff demeanor. It was unmistakable that he was a senior pilot with decades of flying experience.

“I’d like to do the flight briefing with the cabin crew today, would that be alright?”

“Ah, yes. But I’m still… I just arrived a moment ago.”

“That’s okay. I’ve already prepared the flight plan.”

“You have?”

“I came early to prepare. Actually, this is my last flight. I’m retiring today.”

I was at a loss for words. I had come in on standby for such an important flight. He asked for my opinion again, and I reluctantly accepted his proposal.

We immediately moved to the briefing room. All the cabin crew, who seemed to already know his situation, greeted him with warm smiles.

“Oh, here is the Co-pilot. Today, Captain Lee Soo-hwan, who was originally scheduled for this flight, suddenly had a family emergency and couldn’t make it. I guess he didn’t even have time to read the log, so I’ll do the flight briefing instead. Is that okay, Captain?”

“Ah, yes!”

The laid-back tone of his voice put me in good spirits. Most of the assembled crew seemed to know him. It seemed like the company had arranged for the standby captain to be welcomed by his colleagues today. I felt like I was just an unwanted person who happened to be there.

After the captain’s briefing and the cabin manager’s briefing, everyone went to the gate together. The ground crew also greeted Captain Park Jong-dae when they saw him. He greeted them one by one and climbed into the cockpit.

“What did you get your badge for?”

“Oh, I switched from a 380 to a 350 now.”

“Oh, you’re lucky. I’ve only flown the A320 for 23 years. Before that, I was a Phantom F-4 pilot.”

I have little experience flying the A320, especially with a captain who used to be a combat pilot. Just monitoring the PM duties made me nervous.

The A320 is an old model developed in the 1980s, known for its long fuselage. It was once a bestseller for Airbus, rivaling Boeing’s 737 in long-distance flights. If I had become a pilot 10 years earlier, I would have undoubtedly chosen this model.

His takeoff preparations were smooth and effortless, leaving me with almost nothing to do. After boarding was complete, he signaled for the doors to close. I informed the control tower that we were ready for departure and received clearance for runway 11. We entered the taxiway.

At the end of the taxiway, the A320 lined up for takeoff, awaiting the final clearance before entering the runway.

-Coreana Airlines Flight 711, cleared to take-off.

I glanced at the captain, who smiled and nodded. As we exchanged takeoff callouts, the aircraft began to move.

“Set takeoff thrust.”

“Thrust set.”

I echoed his command and monitored the instruments. During takeoff, the captain looks straight ahead, guiding the aircraft down the runway. The Co-pilot should assist the captain with the takeoff by watching the instruments and side traffic. I informed him when we reached 80 knots.

“80 notes, check.”

The speed increased and the airplane approached takeoff speed.

“V One. Rotate.”

His hand now moves from the thrust levers to the control column. As he gradually pulls it back towards him, the aircraft starts to lift off.

“Gear up.”

His final flight has begun. 

Captain Park Jong-dae spent a total of 40 years in the sky. He graduated from high school and immediately entered the Air Force Academy, where he applied for an officer commission and was selected as a combat pilot.

“Back then, when we went out for training, we would cut off our hair and nails and put them in a watering can, because if we had an accident, it’s hard to recover the body. There was no way to hold a funeral.”

“I’ve read reports about fighter jet crashes. They’re horrifying.”

“Yeah. They couldn’t even salvage the wreckage. If you’re lucky, you might gather a few pieces of flesh and hold a funeral, saying, ‘This is the body.’ That’s why we left behind parts of our bodies in case of accidents. Oh, am I talking about ancient history here? Haha.”

“No, it’s an interesting story to hear for the first time. And please feel free to speak comfortably. You’re like a father figure to me.”

We were drinking coffee at 30,000 feet. Since there were signs of turbulence, we were flying a bit lower than usual. The plane was quietly entering Japanese airspace.

“Have you actually seen the crash site?”

“Oh, I have. I can’t forget that day… It was the day when my closest colleague died.”

He hesitated for a moment, holding a plastic cup in his hand.

“Even back then, the Phantoms were quite old. Most of them were over 20 years old, so accidents happened frequently. That day, it was a fighter training near Mount Ulsan, and my colleague’s aircraft went missing. After the wreckage was found, the accident was processed, but the bodies couldn’t be recovered. Everything was burnt to ashes. They gave him a posthumous promotion to Major, but what’s the point? His daughter was only five years old at the time, what significance did it have?”

“Was it a mechanical failure?”

“Well, who knows? The black box was damaged, so we couldn’t determine the cause. What made me angry was the media at the time. Whenever a fighter jet crashed, they were busy packaging it as a soldier’s sacrifice. They liked to emphasize the soldierly spirit, saying they didn’t abandon the controls until the end to avoid civilian casualties. Ridiculous.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“That’s what we had to swallow back then,” he says, “you know, you’re kind of forced to give up on ejections, they subtly enforced the soldierly spirit, saying you shouldn’t give up on emergency escape and the fighter until the end. If you wanted promotion after crashing a Phantom worth hundreds of billions, you had no conscience.”

“Do you think your friend has given up on an emergency exit?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Anyway, at that time, I had a clear thought in my mind. I loved flying, but maybe it wasn’t right for me as a soldier. So, I retired without looking back. Luckily, I easily got a job at a civilian airline after completing my 15-year flying obligation. Otherwise, how could a mediocre guy like me get into Korean Air? Haha.”

“You’re being too modest. I heard that only aces flew the Phantom back then.”

“Haha, well, it was a bit like that at the time. Now, let’s start descending.”

He smiled and began to prepare for landing. I’ve never been a big fan of listening to old stories, but Captain Park’s experience was special. He diluted the image I had of “Korean Air Force veteran pilots.” He was humble, experienced, and above all, skilled.