My Katyn book manuscript is a memoir. The draft narrates my two-year journey becoming interested in the Katyn Massacre. The finished manuscript is an account of my personal stories and experiences starting chronologically with when I stepped foot on a historic New York State military post and feeling the presence of Thaddeus Kosciuszko (Tadeusz Kościuszko to be precise) and hearing his ghostly command to create an ambitious project studying and writing about the Katyn Massacre. I am the book’s central character; however, many figures inhabit the book’s narrative arc. Many people are important characters in my story. Some “characters” contributed greatly to my development as a teacher, scholar, and person that I couldn’t leave these characters out of the book’s dramatic storytelling. Without them, not only would the book be incomplete and inauthentic, my own “character” would be sketchy and superficial. I needed to populate the draft with them.
How did I integrate them into the narrative?
During the early years of drafting, I simply transformed “Jimmy” to “John Smith;” however, I know a John Smith. And John Smith wasn’t “Jimmy.” I needed a better system of renaming these characters. Why did I need to conceal their true identities? On the one hand, I didn’t disparage or parody them. They all were decent, admirable people. Masquerading them behind different names wasn’t necessary; however, my intuition demanded that I must.
The subtitle of my book includes “odyssey.” I saw my Katyn research, travels, and personal encounters as a journey that ultimately transformed me. Given the mythological overtones of “odyssey,” I decided to rename the people I met, befriended, taught, and engaged with after mythological heroes and deities. I wasn’t always consistent with adhering to ancient Greek sources. I needed names that best illustrated or represented a person’s character or idiosyncrasy.
For example, one Army officer I befriended was a hopeful, optimistic man who motivated me to continue planning the Katyn trip with the cadets despite the warnings from my Polish and Polish-American colleagues that: “Russia won’t let you go there” or “You can’t just arrive to Katyn with American cadets.” And he simply asked me: “Why not? Go. Do it.” How couldn’t I not include him in the book? He encouraged me during a crucial moment in my life. To honor him and his faith in me, I christened him “The Knight of the Elpis Order.”
I chose “The Knight” because obviously he was an Army officer; however, what do I mean by “Elpis”? In Greek mythology, Elpis is a female deity, even spirit, of hope. And “Order” stood for the class or group or category. He became The Knight of the Elpis Order.
Another Army officer who became a character in the book was Lady of Kilimanjaro. “The Lady of Kilimanjaro” was named after an African-American Army officer. When I interviewed her for the book, I insisted that I would name her after an African female warrior. I even asked if she knew approximately where her ancestors came from. She didn’t know, but she loves Tanzania because it has a free-standing mountain. That mountain? Mount Kilimanjaro.
I wanted to be as authentic writing about these people as I could. I didn’t alter their voices or opinions—my recollections perhaps may be off; however, I hope I have captured their essences. Without them, there wouldn’t be a Katyn book manuscript.