When I wrote my Katyn book manuscript (MSS), I knew I needed to write about my friends, colleagues, former students—anyone not directly related to me but connected to my Katyn stories—in the Katyn MSS. I felt uneasy about how to represent them, especially their names. I didn’t write about them in an unflattering way; nonetheless, I wanted to protect their true identities. Although the MSS was a memoir, the people I included were characters in a story. And as characters, they needed “character” names.
At first, I arbitrarily, randomly, and inconsistently changed the names of certain people. I kept some people’s real names as they were. I had no method or reasoning to justify changing one person’s name but not another. It didn’t make any sense. I would call John “John,” but refer to Samantha as “Artemis.”
Only when “King Arthur” who read the earliest drafts of the Katyn MSS suggested I rename everyone in the MSS to be consistent did I revise this aspect of the MSS. “King Arthur’s” constructive criticism made sense.
Given the subtitle of the working draft: “A Personal and Literary Odyssey,” “King Arthur” advised me to name people after Greek or Roman mythological beings. “Odyssey” after all was an ancient Greek classic. “King Arthur” thought doing so would have provided an internal consistency. His advice made sense.
During a writing feedback session, “King Arthur” asked, “Why are you calling me ‘King Arthur’? Why not pick a name from ancient Greece?” I didn’t have any definitive explanation. At the time, I was still exploring my naming options, and for some unconscious reason, “King Arthur” seemed to fit King Arthur. I will write about why I called him “King Arthur” in another blog.
There were some people that didn’t fit the personality, characteristics, or demeanor of a particular ancient Greek figure. I felt restricted within the Greco-Roman world. I explored other possibilities, and when I needed to rechristen an Army officer who played an important role in helping me to get the West Point summer abroad course—the AIAD— to visit the Katyn Massacre sites, I knew I needed him to appear in the Katyn story. What to call him?
“Heimdall” in the Katyn MSS was an unique personality. The real-life “Heimdall” was an electrifying, intimidating, and colossal of a man. He referred to himself as a “real tanker.” He never fully explained the defining characteristics of a “real tanker;” however, I sensed that his time during the first wave of the Iraq War perhaps explained the identity of one. When he spoke, his voice was loud, clear, tinged with a Southern accent; his Southern intonations accentuated his confidence, posture, and bearing.
He described himself as a “Viking descendent.” H even referred to himself as “a Viking.” He believed deeply that his ancestors were Vikings. He even planned to visit Scandinavia to explore its Viking past. Therefore, I dubbed him “Heimdall.”
Heimdall is a Norse mythological god who guarded the realm against invaders, standing before Bifröst, the burning rainbow bridge. Because “Heimdall” was such a colorful figure, the rainbow bridge made sense; however, because the Norse god was a liminal deity—a god who guards thresholds, gates, doorways, and entrances—calling him “Heimdall” made even more sense.
“Heimdall” was my first officemate at West Point. In many ways, he was testing me, determining what kind of a person I was. Was I a stuffy, uptight university professor who didn’t joke? Did I listen to nothing but classical music or experimental jazz? When I spoke, did I use obscure, jargon-filled vocabulary? When he realized I listened to Ozzy Osbourne, Willie Nelson, and classical music, he accepted me, further vetting me before he fully trusted me.
He was a gatekeeper determining whether I could be trusted by the other military officers. So, calling him both a figurative and actual gatekeeper in the Katyn MSS allowed me to say things—both implicitly and directly—about him that I couldn’t if I simply referred to him as “Jimmy” or “Captain Tanker.”
Calling him by his real name wouldn’t have portrayed who he was. He was more than just his name. He was “Heimdall.” He was a Viking god!