When Life Reads Like a Novel

You know how every once in a while you come across someone whose life sounds like something out of an over-the-top movie? Have you ever heard of the novelist F. van Wyck Mason?
Born into an old patrician Boston family, Mason grew up in Berlin and Paris, where his grandfather was in the Foreign Service. At the age of 16, he ran away from home to fight in World War I, somehow managing to enlist in the French Army, where he distinguished himself so well he rose to become an officer and earned the French Legion of Honor. He then went home to prep school (one has to wonder how that worked out) and, while earning his BS from Harvard, was arrested for murder (it was a mistake). He then started an import business and spent years traveling the world, trekking through Russia, Asia, Africa, and the West Indies; he even spent nine weeks on a caravan in the Sahara and rode across South America on a horse. And then, at the ripe old age of 26, he decided he wanted to be a writer.
He first became famous for a series of mystery/espionage novels about a James Bond precursor named Colonel Hugh North, who was basically Mason himself: polished, elegant, sophisticated, cosmopolitan, lethal. He also wrote a number of historical adventure novels and a ton of short stories. Oh, and in between he reenlisted for WWII, became a member of Eisenhower's staff, and was one of the first allied troops into Buchenwald. He died while swimming off the coast of Bermuda at the age of 76.

When I was a teenager, one of my favorite novels was Van Wyck Mason's Rivers of Glory. Then I lent the book to my friend Betty and never saw it again. I can remember desperately trying to get it back before I moved to Australia (the first time), but no luck. Over the years, I forgot about it until, a few weeks ago while cataloging my books for the book sale, I found myself thinking about it. I realized that while I could visualize my old tattered hardcover (my copy didn't have the dust jacket), I could recall neither the title nor the author's name. But then, a couple of days ago, thanks to that marvelous thing called serendipity, I was reading about authors associated with Bermuda and one name, F. Van Wyck Mason, leapt out at me. I stared at it; could that be him? I turned to Le Google, discovered that he had also written historicals, and eventually tracked down my old favorite's title.

While I probably wouldn't like it if I were to encounter it for the first time today (talk about politically incorrect!), there is no denying that Rivers of Glory is one of those books that had a tremendous impact upon my development as a writer. Out of curiosity, I intend to track down some of those old Hugh North books. What's amazing to me is how completely Van Wyck Mason is forgotten today, given how successful he was in his time--probably because Hollywood never translated any of his works to the silver screen. Have you ever heard of him?