Books: Breaking the Celebrity Barrier: YEAGER

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Yeager's practical approach to death may have its origins in his West Virginia childhood. Not long after six-year-old Brother Roy accidentally killed his baby sister with a shotgun, Yeager's father sat the boys down and said simply, "I want to show you how to safely handle firearms." This matter-of-factness fits right in with the airman's cocky stoicism. Violent death may be inevitable, but problem solving goes on until the moment of impact. There is also a sixth sense of machinery that Yeager calls his "knowledgeable feel," his love of engines and valves "and all those mechanical gadgets that make most people yawn." Time and again this supersonic Zen led to discovery of critical data: a bolt installed upside down that caused several fatal crashes, a mental flash of a mispositioned stabilizer that saved his life.

Yeager's decision to remain in the Air Force for 34 years rather than take lucrative civilian jobs paid off. There were challenging assignments in Europe and Asia, and the perks were good. He tells of using bombers to airlift him and his cronies to remote hunting and fishing grounds. The military also allowed him to do what he does best: fly fighters. His last combat missions were in Viet Nam, where, he coldly notes, he was credited with killing 50 V.C. on one mission. Yeager sees the world through gunsights. He takes potshots at astronauts ("little more than Spam in the can, throwing the right switches on instructions from the ground") and Air Force equal-opportunity programs ("There never were black pilots or white pilots . . . only pilots who knew how to fly, and pilots who didn't").

Throughout this autobiography-of-sorts, skillfully shaped by former TIME Correspondent Leo Janos from interviews and transcripts of Government tapes, Yeager strives to be himself: an elite member of the warrior class. To vary the pace and tone, Janos has wisely included commentaries and observations by friends and Yeager's wife Glennis. All contribute to the conclusion that their hero belongs to a breed apart, and it is not hard to understand why. The myth of transcendence inherent in flying separates those who do from those who don't. It is as if Yeager and his comrades evolved from birds while the earthbound dropped from trees to become prisoners of gravity. --By R.Z. Sheppard