Willis Linda - Looking for Mr. Smith: seeking the truth behind The long walk, the greatest survival story ever told

M y interest in The Long Walk began more than ten years ago. At that time curiosity combined with another interest, family research, prompting me to look for the story behind the book and perhaps, in time, to write my own book detailing the research adventures I encountered along the way. One of my aims in gathering all the material I could about The Long Walk was to use my efforts at seeking the true story of the walk as a backdrop to outlining the progress of a budding researchersuch as myself.

The fumbling and bumbling I experienced, the dead ends as well as the exhilarating finds, pointed me in a direction that went beyond just getting at the backstory of the men who walked to India; rather, my effort at research became something of a tale unto itself. That is not to say I wanted to write a how-to book. What I wanted from this experience was to tell a tale of research, to solve mysteries along the way, to recount the steps it took to move from goal to goal, to learn from my lessons, to pass on any thoughts or gems of wisdom to the reader, and to enjoy both the research and the writing phases. Whether all my intentions were fulfilled or not, I believe that each step of the way was certainly an adventure. I also wanted to present my research in a way that would encourage others to take heart, follow through with any projects they might have, and enjoy the experience, no matter how daunting it first appears or how difficult that first step seems.

I certainly learned many lessons on my own walk. This first full-scale experience of researching a specific topic was an eye-opener. Whether I used new, modern methodscomputers and the Internetor older methodsthe card catalog, pen and paper, or the telephoneI had to make contact with other human beings. In order to win the trust of people who might be of help to me, I learned to emphasize the word research and expand its definition to include geographical areas, the war years, and the interviewees own personal histories in the hope of establishing a confiding relationship between myself as a researcher and the respondent.

While seeking information from the people I contacted, I quickly learned to be conscious of my manner toward them and aware of how I accepted or questioned what they told me. For instance, the lesson of treading lightly and not trampling on emotions and feelings when interviewing a respondent wasnt lost on me; fortunately, most people didnt mind talking about the past, but there were a few who objected, whose histories stirred up unwanted memories. This is an area which each and every researcher has to delicately negotiate on an individual basis, as defined by the research subjects personality and experiences. Also, the information imparted by the person on the other end of an e-mail or the phone must be digested with a certain amount of open-mindedness. Solid facts are, of course, welcomed and form a basis for further investigation; but the facts are often difficult to elicit and verify. Too often, it seemed there were no facts, no information of any sort; replies to my questions were all in the negative. In the back of my mind, however, lurked the suspicion that the information I sought was there, somewhere, just not remembered or cross-referenced, or remembered under a different name or category. It was difficult to accept that, occasionally, some data from the past would never be forthcoming, despite speaking courteously or using modern research aids.

Continuing this train of thought, the concept of digging into the past using modern technology sounded wonderful when I began researching The Long Walk . I was quick to learn that a good proportionin fact the majority of research I diddealt with contacting the elderly. Thus, any technology beyond the telephone was usually not an option. Beautifully written or typed letters were received at my end; in turn, I brushed up on my penmanship in order to reply. The formal dance revolving around pen, ink, and good-quality stationery was repeated many times over; it was a tried-and-true supplement to the phone call.

Yet the telephone call was a good way to break the ice and then lead on to a leisurely exchange of thoughts and ideas via letter or e-mail. Nine times out of ten it was an effective mode of communication. There were only a few rare instances in which the recipient of my call did not understand or could not hear properly and hung up. On one or two occasions the response I received was frosty because of the nature of my call, as when asking people who knew Rupert Mayne what they remembered about his intelligence work during the War. The informant followed Maynes example and hid behind the Official Secrets Act, making the speaker sound important while pointing to his ignorance of Maynes career.