AVIATION HISTORY, Jan, 1996:
p. 58 -

REVIEWS

MASTER SHOWMAN AND PREMIER RACING PILOT ROSCOE TURNER
LIVES UP TO HIS STAR BILLING IN C.V GLINES' LATEST BOOK.
By Walter J. Boyne

        It's a strange world. The television and film screens are
filled with synthetic heroes like James Bond and Jack Ryan (or, if
you're still watching B-movies of the past, Bulldog Drummond and
Flash Gordon), while genuine, real-life heroes, men and women who
have done things, have their stories go unnoticed.

        Notable among these genuine heroes is the flamboyant Roscoe
Turner, a great bear of a man who literally lifted himself by his
bootstraps from the red soil near Corinth, Miss., to become a legend
in his own lifetime.  If ever a man deserved full treatment on the
silver screen, it is Roscoe Turner.

        Fortunately, the blueprint for such a film is now at hand with
the arrival of prolific author C.V. Glines' latest book: ROSCOE
TURNER, Aviation's Master Showman (Smithsonian Press, Washington,
D.C., 1995, $29.95). Glines, whose recent biography of the late
beloved General James H. "Jimmy" Doolittle set the standard for the
genre, is at his peak again in an incisive look at one of the most
colorful figures in aviation history.

        Turner was truly larger than life. A handsome man with a Terry
Thomas-style grin, he was the first to recognize that being a pilot
was not enough- that aviation had to have an element of showmanship,
which he was able to provide in great measure.

        Glines is a craftsman, and he sets a deliberate but exciting
pace as he unfolds Turner's rise from a poor, hard-working farm boy to
become America's premier racing pilot and then a highly successful,
often controversial, businessman.

        Turner's rise from poverty is an object lesson still valid
today; he learned the three R's, ~graduating" when he finished the
10th grade at a one-room country schoolhouse. He continued his
education at business school- which had the budget-breaking tuition fee
of $65 but soon became fascinated by the arrival in Corinth of the
internal combustion engine in the form of one motorcycle and two or
three automobiles. One whiff of the fuel and oil fumes was enough to
convince him that his career would be found in the world of speed.

        Turner became addicted to aviation upon his first exposure in
1913, when he saw a woman pilot- probably either Katherine Stinson or
Ruth Law. In 1917, at the age of 22, he applied for flight training in
the Army, but, lacking a college education, he was turned down.  With
typical resilience, he accepted balloon training, and, on his first
flight in anything, had the courage- or the foolishness- to bail out,
landing safely and impressing his comrades.

        It must have seemed incredible to him, a boy with a 10th-grade
education from a Mississippi country school, but on March 19, 1918, he
was commissioned a second lieutenant in the Aviation Section, Signal
Corps Reserve. He had a fancy uniform and wings, and he would later
parlay customized versions of these into international fame.

        Turner combined pick-up flying lessons with barnstorming
parachute work and inadvertently had a brush with the law over the
purchase of a "government surplus" Jenny that was more government than
surplus.  Glines deals forthrightly with the matter, and Turner comes
off with dignity.

        After overcoming his legal difficulties, Turner taught himself
to fly, beginning a career that would literally carry him to the
heights.  Because Glines is also a pilot, he is able to understand
exactly what Turner achieved as he moved from a used Jenny to the
S-29A, the first Sikorsky built in America, a one-off biplane that
received lasting fame for its ill-fated role as the "Gotha" bomber in
Howard Hughes' epic film Hells Angels.

        Turner always said that the only excuse for an airplane was
speed, and the 1930s saw him demonstrate that with gusto and Gilmore.
The latter was the famous lion cub that became as much a part of
Roscoe's image as his eye-catching, self-designed uniform. Turner's
taste ran to a sky-blue tunic and matching overseas cap, with heavily
embroidered gold wings, creamy whipcord trousers and highly polished
riding boots.  At a time when most pilots flew in oil- and sweatstained
shirts and suits, Turner made a fashion statement that always gained
him attention, and in the long run, respect.

        Turner set many distance and closed course records, and Glines'
coverage of these is excellent, particularly the details of the
Melbourne Centenary Air Race from England to Australia, more
familiarly known as the MacRobertson race.  He is equally adept at
detailing Turner's Bendix and Thompson Trophy races, and it is here
that the pilot/author combination is most fruitful. Of particular
interest to aviation buffs will be the well-researched- and often
controversial- story of the famous "Turner Special," designed to be
fast enough for the Bendix and still able to turn the pylons in the
Thompson.

        Turner's sensational racing career- he was the only person to
win the Thompson Trophy three times- ended with World War II, but his
personal successes did not. He went on to establish the Roscoe Turner
Aeronautical Corporation, which trained pilots and mechanics during
the war and later became a profitable Beechcraft distributor. Turner
enjoyed the business not only for the profits it generated but also
because so many trainees told him what an inspiration he had been to
them.

        After the war, Turner became a formidable and respected voice
in aviation affairs, the one-time Mississippi dirt farmer crusading
for air power before distinguished audiences and testifying before
congressional committees.

        ROSCOE TURNER, Aviation's Master Showman is a great book, as
multidimensional as Turner was himself Glines has a knack for
introducing other great personalities- Doolittle, Clarence Chamberlin
and others- as well as for portraying the era.

        This book would make a great movie. There are enough racing
replicas available today to create a realistic film that would do
Turner justice and present the American public with the true story of
a real hero of legendary accomplishments. I'd rather see one film of
Roscoe Turner, rounding the pylons again, than 10 James Bonds faking
their way out of trouble.  Hollywood: Call C.V. Glides, please!

[Picture] A rebuild of the Wedell Williams racer that Roscoe Turner
        flew in the Bendix and Thompson Trophy races from 1936 to
        1938 - incorporating numerous modifications of his own.