• Air transport of human remains is highly regulated and complex, requiring strict compliance with IATA standards, legal documentation, embalming, and careful handling to ensure dignity and safety during international repatriation
• The process demands discretion and professionalism, with caskets handled privately, screened areas used at airports, and codes like HUM applied to protect families’ privacy while maintaining chain of custody
• Challenges arise from documentation errors, security restrictions, and multi-jurisdiction transfers, with both civilian and military repatriations relying on coordinated logistics, case owners, and meticulous oversight to prevent traumatic mistakes for grieving families

Families often want their loved ones returned quickly and with dignity, yet behind the scenes the process is complex, tightly regulated and conducted with deliberate discretion. Moving a body across borders by air involves a mesh of legal, medical and logistical requirements. The International Air Transport Association (IATA) publishes the Compassionate Transportation Manual, updated most recently in 2025, which sets global standards for airlines and freight forwarders. This covers packaging requirements, paperwork, special handling codes and the need for staff training. A shipment of human remains is booked under the code HUM, which triggers distinct handling procedures, from acceptance at the cargo terminal through to loading and unloading.

The paperwork is formidable. Many countries require an embalming certificate, a hermetically sealed coffin or zinc lining and an export authorisation from the local authority. On arrival in the United Kingdom, the family or their appointed funeral director must provide a death certificate, a certificate of embalming or sealing, and often a consular mortuary certificate. A British coroner may then become involved, especially if the death was sudden or unexplained. The UK government’s own guidance emphasises that families should not cancel a passport until the remains have been successfully transported, a reminder of how small administrative details can derail a process already laden with grief.

Capacity and routing present further challenges. Not all airlines accept human remains, and not all airports have the facilities to store or transfer them. Where refrigeration is not available, transit times must be minimised. Disruptions, such as strikes, security alerts or missed connections, can strand remains in warehouses, raising both practical and ethical concerns. Airlines usually seek to avoid placing human remains in proximity to hazardous or odorous goods but operational realities sometimes complicate those intentions.

The veil of secrecy

Secrecy, or more accurately, discretion, surrounds every stage of the process. At airports, caskets are usually handled out of sight of the public. Ground handlers are briefed to minimise exposure. Cargo manifests mark such consignments by code rather than by name, both to preserve dignity and to comply with data protection rules. At some airports, remains are loaded or unloaded in screened areas to prevent photographs.

This discretion has several purposes. It protects the privacy of families, reduces the risk of protest or interference, and helps ensure that staff treat the process as a solemn duty rather than a routine transaction. In Britain, coronial procedures and data minimisation under privacy law reinforce this discretion. In military contexts, the secrecy is heightened further for reasons of national security and ceremony.

Civilian and military remains

For civilians, repatriation is usually a private arrangement, organised through insurance companies, international funeral directors, or specialist repatriation agents. The body is prepared abroad, packed in accordance with IATA and local regulations, then booked onto a commercial flight as cargo. Families in Britain then meet their loved one at the airport or, more often, after a funeral director has cleared the remains through customs and liaised with the coroner.

For the armed forces, the process is markedly different. The UK Ministry of Defence operates a dedicated pathway through RAF Brize Norton in Oxfordshire. Fallen personnel are returned on military aircraft, greeted with ceremonial honours and transferred to coroners who have jurisdiction over service deaths overseas. From 2007 to 2011, repatriations through RAF Lyneham and the town of Wootton Bassett became a national moment of mourning; since then, Brize Norton has been the main entry point. Families are supported by the Joint Casualty and Compassionate Centre, and the movements are tightly choreographed, with security and protocol given equal weight to dignity.

When things go wrong

Despite procedures, repatriation can and does go awry. Identification is the most obvious point of failure: if mistakes are made at the scene of death or during preparation abroad, they may not be detected until arrival in Britain. Documentation errors can delay flights or lead to remains being stranded overseas. Even small lapses in the chain of custody can have devastating effects on grieving families.

The crash of Air India Flight 171 in June 2025 led to the deaths of hundreds of passengers, including British citizens. Families reported harrowing errors during repatriation: in some cases, bodies were misidentified or returned commingled in the same casket. Coroners in Britain conducted DNA checks that exposed the mistakes, and families have since demanded answers from the airline and its contractors. The case illustrated the fragility of chain-of-custody arrangements under pressure and the enduring trauma caused when errors occur.

In April 2024, seven World Central Kitchen staff, including three Britons, were killed in an Israeli air strike. Their bodies had to be moved across multiple jurisdictions: collected in Gaza, transferred through the Rafah crossing into Egypt, and then flown home. Each leg of the journey required diplomatic clearances, consular involvement and meticulous handling. The episode highlighted how political and security barriers can complicate what would otherwise be a straightforward logistical task.

The body of a British teenager who died in Tenerife, Jay Slater, was returned home in August 2024, almost two months after his disappearance. Spanish authorities required a full investigation and post-mortem before authorising export. The delay demonstrated how legal processes, rather than aviation itself, can hold up repatriation. Families often expect swift returns, but foreign jurisdictions may move at very different speeds.

Towards better practice

The industry acknowledges the difficulties. The IATA manual now includes case studies and checklists designed to prevent errors and to ensure transparency. Experts recommend appointing a single accountable “case owner” across the supply chain, pre-alerting destination coroners and funeral directors, and maintaining named custody records at every stage. Some carriers publish special tariffs and acceptance criteria for human remains, which professionalises the booking process and sets clear expectations for families.

Yet for all the guidance and procedures, the work remains a matter of human professionalism. Ground handlers must treat the task as distinct from moving freight; airline staff must ensure paperwork is checked and rechecked; funeral directors must navigate foreign bureaucracies with patience.

Air transport of human remains is one of the quiet, unseen services of global aviation. It demands precision in documentation, sensitivity in handling, and discretion at every stage. For civilians, it is a service few ever think about until tragedy strikes abroad. For the military, it is bound up with ceremony and national identity. In both cases, errors can cause fresh trauma to families already stricken by loss.

When the system works, it is almost invisible: the loved one arrives home swiftly, privately and with dignity. When it falters, as recent tragedies have shown, the veil of secrecy can make errors harder to detect until it is too late. That is why strict adherence to standards, and a recognition of the human meaning behind every HUM consignment, remain essential.