This colorful, highly personal account of one man's flying from 1917 to 1930 is in a way the apothsosts of the story of all early birdmen. It moves from crap games at Kelly Field, to putting around old Jennies to movie flying, airmail service, barnstorming, and finally, (historically the most interesting section) to service with Admiral Byrd's polar expedition of the late Twenties. Bad fields, bad weather, fatal crashes, drunk flying all are described vividly and with great feeling. Although limited in scope, Smith's book is entertaining as can be, with the reader skimming along with him over roof tops, cow pastures, and the long, grey stretches of treacherous polar ice. A good job.