Marianne van Velzen - Shot Down

After enjoying three days’ leave in Amsterdam, Wan Amran was now returning to his kampung near the town of Kuala Kangsar and was quite eager to get back to his wife, Miriam, and his two sons, who were nine and seven. Celebrating the end of Ramadan was a festive and very family-oriented event, and he looked forward to it.

Neither Amran or Choo were overly worried about their flight path and where it would take them. Although civilian airlines had been warned since March 2014 to avoid flying over certain parts of Ukraine, those warnings were mainly for the area around the Crimea peninsula because there were ongoing hostilities between Ukraine and the Russian Federation about the annexation of the peninsula by Moscow. Some operators had diverted their routes to the north or south of Crimea, which took them to flight paths above either Turkey or eastern Ukraine. From 19 April British Airways was no longer flying over Ukraine, with the exception of its once-a-day flight to the capital Kiev, but British Virgin Atlantic continued to fly over the country.

Australia’s Qantas had also stopped flying over Ukraine, shifting its London–Dubai route 645 kilometres to the south to avoid Crimea. Etihad claimed it did not fly over Ukraine but Emirates did; there were conflicting reports, although both airlines were certainly flying over dangerous areas such as Iraq. The American airlines United and Delta were no longer flying over the country; Delta had rerouted on 10 March, avoiding Crimea and taking a flight path further south, while United had followed suit on 14 July.

There were no specific guidelines and it wasn’t exceptional to fly over dangerous countries; it was almost the norm. What could happen at 33,000 feet up in the air, so far away from any hostilities? None of MH17’s fifteen crew members were concerned about flying over Ukraine. Although rebels were fighting the Ukrainian government on the ground, no union members had raised concerns about flying through the airspace above the war-torn country although a Notice to Airmen (NOTAM) had been issued days before, which stated that civilian aircraft were advised to fly only at high altitude to ensure international flight safety. ‘Due to combat actions on the territory of Ukraine near the state border with the Russian Federation and the fact of firing from the territory of Ukraine towards the territory of the Russian Federation’. On 14 July 2014 a new NOTAM was issued specific to the Dnipropetrovsk region. In that NOTAM the eastern edge of Ukrainian airspace was marked as off limits, but the NOTAM also was only applicable for FL260–FL320, which meant commercial aircraft should fly above 32,000 feet.

The International Civil Aviation Organization had given the green light for aircraft to fly over the area, as long as their flight path was in the designated air zone. The troubled region of eastern Ukraine took ten minutes to cross for a passenger aircraft, and other airlines were sending their planes across its airspace on a daily basis without giving it a second thought. Although pilots could refuse to fly over a war zone, they seldom did. It did not win you any popularity points with airlines and, in the worst-case scenario, it could even get you fired.

Malaysia Airlines had flown this route repeatedly during the past several weeks without incident, as had many other carriers. And the rules when flying an aircraft were very similar to driving a car: if the road was open, you assumed that it was safe. If it was closed, you would find an alternative route. In any case, being forced to fly around Ukraine would be a major pain. The country was right in the middle of a common direct route between Europe and Southeast Asia. Longer routes meant more fuel and more chances for delays; delays and higher airfares caused irritation to passengers. War zone or not, airlines would generally fly the shortest route unless it was deemed too risky. With this flight it was no different.

Malaysia Airlines First Officer Muhamad Firdaus Bin Abdul Rahim was one of the younger members of the air crew. Only twenty-six years old, he was soon to become a father. His wife, Nur Zarith Zaaba, a nurse at University Kebangsaan Malaysia Hospital, was two months into her pregnancy. They had been high school sweethearts and had tied the knot just over a year ago. Muhamad was destined to become a pilot. His family included six aviators, with a few of his cousins still too young but waiting patiently in line, eager to take up piloting careers.

First Officer Ahmad Hakimi Bin Hanapi was also one of the younger men on board: he had recently started a family. Kimi, as he was known to friends and family, was married to the beautiful and intelligent Sharifah Asma’a Syed Alwi Al Junied. Their son, Abderrahman, was their only child, and their pride and joy. Kimi was a doting father who tried to spend as much time as possible with his son. Whenever he was home, the first thing he did each morning was take his son for a walk. Never in a stroller, but always carrying his precious child close to his heart. Taking care of his parents, as well as his wife and son, was an important part of his life.

Months before, Ahmad had experienced the same narrow escape as Bobby’s wife, Tan Bee Geok, after he had been scheduled to copilot the ill-fated MH370, but he had swapped shifts with First Officer Fariq Abdul Hamid. The MH370 disaster had made Kimi and his wife realise how precious life was. The incident had also brought home that it was time to make changes in their lives, and they had started putting plans in place to move to Dubai. When they visited the United Arab Emirates on their honeymoon in 2011, its capital stole their hearts. Recently visiting Dubai again, they began seriously contemplating a move, searching for houses and visiting a school that young Abderrahman could attend. If they did move, Ahmad would have to leave Malaysia Airlines, but he hoped to be able to find a similar job with Emirates.

At fifty-four, Mohd Ghafar Bin Abu Bakar was the oldest crew member. He was the inflight supervisor, which made him the highest-ranked cabin crew member on board and responsible for the passengers’ and crew’s comfort and safety. He was there to ensure that no passenger presented a risk to others on board and he was responsible for informing the pilot of any problems within the cabin and to assist the pilot in any way. The inflight supervisor was also responsible for the safe embarkation and disembarkation of passengers. Although Mohd Ghafar had never experienced an emergency, if one did occur he would be the person responsible for getting everyone out of the plane on the emergency slides. He took his job very seriously and, together with the chief stewardess, he saw to it that the passengers were as safe and as comfortable as possible.

Flight MH17’s chief stewardess was Dora Shahila Binti Kassim, a 47-year-old single mother. A long time ago she promised to take her fifteen-year-old daughter, Diyana Yazeera, on a holiday to visit the Dutch capital. The plan was that her daughter would accompany Dora on the next flight back to Amsterdam, where they would spend a week or so together.

Dora Shahila’s main aim was to ensure that her only child led a successful and happy life. Working long hours at high altitudes helped pay for Diyana’s schooling, and it also paid for everything else a young teenager needed. As a single mother, Dora knew all too well how important schooling was, especially for women. She wanted her daughter to be independent and able to take care of herself later in life.

Azrina Binti Yacob was the other chief stewardess on board MH17, as larger long-haul aircraft like the Boeing 777 often had double cabin crew to meet their passengers’ needs. The chief steward or stewardess supervises and coordinates the cabin crew.