Damsel in Green

By Betty Neels, ©1970

Nurse Georgina Rodman had met Professor Julius van den Berg Eyffert and his children when they were brought as casualties into her hospital, and the Professor arranged with Matron to have her “on loan” for a time to help with their convalescence. It was not long before Georgina found herself wishing she could be with them “for keeps.”

GRADE: A- 

BEST QUOTES:
“It was a pity that life didn’t allow you time to dawdle a little on the way.”

“Nurses never ran except for fire and haemorrhage.”

“‘Your bosom is heaving too—so many girls don’t have bosoms these days. I supposed it’s the fashion.’ He sighed.”

REVIEW:
Georgina Rodman—everyone calls her George—will “never make a good nurse,” we are told on the second page. “You’re too impetuous,” snaps her floor charge nurse, when it seems to us, in the few paragraphs we have known her, that she is intelligent, helpful, and compassionate about her patients; she knows to fish out a man’s false teeth when he’s wheeled into the Emergency Department looking blue. Despite her “flaws,” she’s just passed the exams to qualify as an RN. Unfortunately, as the Matron is congratulating her, “Matron had said, ‘a splendid career.’ It occurred to Georgina at that moment that she didn’t much care for the idea. At the back of her mind was a nebulous dream of a husband and children,” as if you can’t have both. “She felt a small shiver of apprehension; supposing Matron’s ‘splendid career’ was to be her lot in life?”

Not to worry, though, a few weeks after starting her “splendid career,” she’s working the night shift in the ED when a man, boy and girl in a car crash are brought in. On their heels follows a very large man—quintessential Betty Neels, who never had an even average-height hero—who tells Georgina that the children are his and that he is a doctor. He’s a commanding presence: “She had met him a bare five minutes ago, and on the strength of this short acquaintance was quite prepared to take his word on anything.” His name is as big as he is, Professor Julius van den Berg Eyffert—and “Georgina felt a peculiar lifting of her spirits” when she learns that Julius is single, just the guardian (not parent) of five children, his cousins. Cor, age 7, has broken both his legs, and becomes quite fond of Georgina when he’s in the hospital, so Julius naturally asks Georgina to come with the family when they return home to their village, which is not far from Great-Aunt Polly’s house. She’s an orphan, of course, sent at age 9 to live with Polly when her parents died of flu (it happens—get your shots, people!), and then Polly herself was crippled by polio 7 years later. The only quirk of the job is that she is required to wear a uniform at all times when she is on duty, and when she asks him if she may know why, he answers, “No, you may not.” And he continues to call her Nurse Rodman when the children all call her George. 

Back at the house, we witness a charming family up close, and Georgina slowly falls for them all. Poor Cor is in traction in bed for six weeks, so she spends a lot of time keeping him from “suffering from ennui,” as little Beatrix explains. The only wrenches in the works are that Georgina has fallen tragically in love with Julius, and he has informed her, “I have at last made up my mind to marry.” What a tragedy! And even worse, when she meets him at the end of her day off—not in uniform—he kisses her! What will his fiancée think about that?

Needless to say, there is much confusion about who is getting married, the de rigueur Betty Neels trip to Holland, and a near-tragedy to bring the floundering couple together, but the fun is watching Georgina interact with this charming family and Julius, who is a warm, kind, endearing character. Betty Neels is a most charming writer—but you and about 50 million others know that. To wit, after Georgina receives a too-businesslike letter from Julius the morning after he kisses her for the first time, “She put the letter in her pocket, with the unspoken thought that presently, when she was alone, she would tear it up into very small pieces indeed, and consign it to the waste paper basket, but it was surprising what a number of good reasons for not doing this occurred during the day. It seemed expedient, when she went to bed that night, to put it under her pillow.” Georgina is strong, smart, and human, with doubts and foibles and imperfections that make her that much more delightful. The children in particular are lovely and sweet, and this book is what I have already come to expect from Neels (see also The Fifth Day of Christmas and Tangled Autumn). This is the second Neels book I read and also the fourth, as I did not review it in a timely fashion and had to go back and have another go-round, and it was completely worth another viewing—so I can easily recommend it if you haven’t already had the pleasure.

Log Camp Nurse

By Arlene J. Fitzgerald, ©1966
Cover illustration by Mort Engel 

Beautiful Tove Jensen was reared in a lumber camp, but after nursing school she moved to Cosmo Beach at the center of the movie industry. There she found love for the first time. A tragic accident called her back to the lumber camp where she met Dr. Bryden. Then she was torn between two loves. Would it be the courageous lumber camp doctor or the handsome California M.D.? The decision would forever alter her life.

GRADE: C-

BEST QUOTES:
“A pagan wouldn’t have bothered with formalities. He would simply have dragged you off to his lair by those corn silk tresses and had his way with you. Perhaps I should try that.” 

“Dedicate yourself to the cause you were made for—that of making a man happy.”

“When you’re tired of mopping sweat and grime from rugged brows, come back to me, darling. Maybe by then you’ll be ready to shed that noble white garment, and settle down to being my lovely and obedient bride.”

“She always liked to start a new case feeling as fresh and crisp as the pert, white cap perched on top of her shining head which looked like a spread winged dove ready to take flight.”

REVIEW:
Arlene Fitzgerald is one of those writers whose work sometimes tiptoes the fine line between clever and stupid. Is it bad writing or hilarious camp when the nurse and her heartthrob doctor make out over the still-warm body of a patient who has just died, or when a bum for some unfathomable reason decides to eat the powder he discovers in the stomach of a dead fish he’s found on the beach and overdoses on cocaine? It’s a rhetorical question not easily answered, but in the case of Log Camp Nurse it’s essentially moot, because no such hilariously bizarre scenes unfold. Rather here Arlene has given us a clearly dull book without much interest or camp in this falsely advertised log camp, though we are subject to a few of her more annoying quirks (the nurse’s penchant for “ligating” or “clamping” or “tying off” or “severing” a thought or feeling frequently occurring behind her sternum with “the cold, firm scalpel of nurse’s discipline”), plus a few of the usual VNRN hackneyed plot devices that make no sense whatsoever. 

Here we find Tove Jansen (because Arlene loves the unusual name—witness Key and Glee and Stag) visiting her father in a logging camp similar to the ones she grew up in because her dad is a timber man, when a flood doesn’t actually trap her there. But when she’s driving out of the mountains she encounters a truck that has crashed, killing the passenger and severely injuring the driver. The next car that comes along just happens to contain the handsomely homely camp doctor, Russ Bryden, who kisses her in the road before rescuing the injured man, so she decides to quit her job in Cosmo Beach in a hospital for wealthy hypochondriacs who all appear to be female. But she can’t quite bring herself to also abandon her not-quite-fiancé Paul Sleeter, who she swears she loves but actually does not like very much (on pretty much every other page we are told how “handsome, suave, sophisticated, ambitious,” “polished” and “immaculate” he is, while being assured that “she had tried to convince herself she did love Paul” even as “the glamour of being married to a man like Paul had worn thin” and as she pants for Dr. Russ, who “made her heart act up” and “did things to her that Paul had never been able to do, even in their most tender moments”).

Most of the book involves Tove and Russ being hauled from one emergency to another, Tove somehow being the only healthcare professional available any time a woman goes into labor (for a camp with a population of several hundred, babies are born on a startlingly frequent basis), which means appalling preparations of shaving and enemas and sterile “technic” for a completely unsterile vaginal birth and shoving the husband out the door (one of whom is suspected of heading straight into the arms of the camp prostitute because his wife’s pregnant body is so unattractive, causing the woman to decide that she will not be having any more children). Paul makes the obligatory appearance in the humble logging camp to assist in a splenectomy for a patient who had been shot, an astonishingly dry surgery for a patient who we are told is bleeding out. During his little visit he affectionately assures his would-be bride that “if I thought that homely, red- headed doctor had done anything to smirch your conscience—or that you had allowed him to—I’d kill you both, darling.” And so he continues to win Tove’s admiration as well as ours.

You know where this book is headed from the first chapter, and Arlene gives us none of her fantastic flights of reality to enliven the story in this frankly dull book. Even the end—the ubiquitous mine cave-in in which Tove is the only person small enough to squeeze through the tiny opening in the rocks to administer the live-giving treatment of tucking a wool blanket around the man with a crushed chest, and the too-soon appearance of Dr. Russ, who manages to get through with two additional men and a stretcher about ten minutes later—is boring. We know Arlene is capable of delivering a lot more laughs—again, whether intentional or not, whether out of delight or derision, involves a much longer discussion—but the end result is that in Log Camp Nurse she does not give us anything worth reading, for better or for worse.

Arms and the Girl

By Marguerite Mooers Marshall, ©1942

GRADE: B+

BEST QUOTES:
“The Lord knows we men are an undecorative species. I hope you can stand looking at me across the table.” 

“Beautiful girls like you should do nothing but exist.”

“People get the poetry they deserve.”

“I am going to have a relapse. You don’t take me seriously any longer.”

“There’s nothing so becoming to a pretty girl as a nurse’s uniform.” 

“Facts are so bald and unimaginative. Facts often annoy. If embroidered or flavored, they are easier to take.”

“You can always get killed in a war if you insist, and frequently if you don’t.”

REVIEW:
This book was a surprise to me because I thought I had read all the VNRNs written my Marguerite Mooers Marshall, who is one of my favorite authors. So now there are five (see also Nurse into Woman, Wilderness Nurse, Her Soul to Keep and Nurse with Wings), and if this one is not her best, well, even Marshall’s mediocre books are still miles better than most. 

Here we find Rosemary Alden (yes, descended from those Aldens of Mayflower fame), who is nursing the mother of an old boyfriend. Mrs. Marianne Sibley is a spoiled, demanding, wealthy woman who wants more of a prop than a nurse, and the only thing that keeps Rosemary on the job is that she has been able to spend time with Philip Sibley, Marianne’s 24-year-old son, who is a sweet young man if utterly lacking seriousness, which is what keeps Rosemary from being, well, serious about him. Soon it comes to light that Philip is being called before the draft board—World War II is about to break loose in Europe—and Marianne is planning to tell them she’s destitute (she’d cleverly moved her money out of the markets and into her mattress a year ago), dependent on her son for maintenance, and furthermore that her health is so fragile that she will drop dead of a heart attack if he is drafted. In truth, Marianne wouldn’t drop dead if she were run over by a dump truck, and as Marianne’s meeting with her health team unfolds, all the doctors fall into line—but Rosemary, disgusted, tells them all off and quits on the spot.

From there she marches over to the Red Cross Nursing Committee to enlist in the Army. But before all the paperwork comes through, Philip is on her door telling her he is in love with her and begging her to marry him. He also mentions that his enlistment has been deferred and his mother is now healthy as a horse and has fired her new  nurse and doctor. She likes him a lot, she tells him, “yet it was all no use. He was a boy unwilling to do a man’s work, a boy who wouldn’t go where even she, a girl, was going. Anything else she might forgive—not refusal to pay a debt of honor, the greatest debt man or woman owes, the debt to country.”

So off she goes to war—well, not exactly, she goes to a training camp located near Winchester, Massachusetts! There she spends many long hours dreaming about Philip: “She remembered the tumbled hair, the tie and the hat never quite straight, the flash of even teeth in the wide irregular mouth when he laughed. She remembered his effortless physical power, his way of making friends with dogs and horses and small grimy children, his sheer boyish charm and decency. So much in him that was winning and fine—yet he flinched at the one hard, disagreeable task ever laid on his twenty-four years! With a frowning shrug, she resolved to put the young man out of her mind. And did not.”

Meanwhile, at the camp’s Officers Club—she’s a second lieutenant—she meets the debonair Captain Gerald Lee, who is Rhett Butler reincarnate, even hailing from a plantation in South Carolina. On their first meeting entices her to go on a date with him in Boston, and soon they are spending much free time together, and everyone is wondering when the engraved invitations will be mailed. But “she did not love him—did not, did not! Something in her so stubbornly resisted. And yet why?” Maybe it’s because she knows that on the very next page she’s going to receive a telegram telling her that Philip has joined the Army and is going to be arriving at her camp tomorrow!

When she meets Philip at the camp, he tells her he wants to prove to her that he has what it takes. “I’m willing to wait,” he tells her—which is a first in VNRNs, the man waiting for the woman! But the bad news here is that she’s an officer and he’s just a private, so they are absolutely forbidden to fraternize. Instead they just write letters to each other, and she continues to date Jerry Lee. And goes home to visit her parents in Belltown, which is a stand-in for the New Hampshire town Marshall grew up in (Kingston) and has appeared in all the other Marshall VNRNs I’ve read. But Philip finds out about Jerry and writes that she’s done him wrong by not letting him know there was someone else, and he’s through!

Two pages later Philip is wheeled into the infirmary, delirious from an infection in his leg, and she offers to special him for 24 hours a day until he is out of danger. So now they can clasp fervent hands and kiss goodnight, and she tells Philip she will stop seeing Jerry. But Jerry has other plans: When Rosemary and Philip secretly meet for a date in Boston, who should spot them strolling the North End but that rascal Jerry? He soon has a chat with Rosemary in which he tells her that it would be such a shame if anyone heard that the two were fraternizing, because it would be terrible for Philip’s career—he’s angling to go to Officer Training School. Unless she continues to date Jerry and stops seeing Philip, he tells her, he will ensure Philip is not accepted into officer training. She decides she will not communicate with Philip any longer—but he stops writing to her, and now she’s hurt that he’s apparently dumped her without a word, and never mind that’s what she was planning to do to him! Her pride keeps her from writing to him, and then she gets a letter from his mother saying that she’s told Philip she will disinherit him if he marries her. She doesn’t want to believe that this is why he is not writing, but can’t quite not believe it. In the meantime she goes out on very chilly dates with Jerry. There are a few twists to the story after this, and another lovely visit to Belltown to visit her father, who immediately names the problem and the obvious solution. Thanks, Dad!

This is another sweet, gentle book from Marshall. I always enjoy visiting Belltown in them, which is painted as an idyllic small town, and Rosemary’s father is a particularly endearing character. There are a few of Rosemary’s friends who are also excellently drawn as well. Ordinarily I might find all the patriotism a little thick, but in this era when our country’s democracy seems to be paper thin, I appreciated Rosemary’s fervent dedication to protecting it. In the end, if I can’t say this is Marshall’s best book, it is certainly one worth reading.

Cynthia Doyle, Nurse in Love

By Adelaide Humphries, ©1953
Cover illustration by Tom Miller 

What did it take to make Dr. Sellars notice her? wondered Nurse Cynthia Doyle. Oh, he was aware of her professionally. But it was discouraging to work by his side, to loo at him, her heart thumping wildly, and get no recognition from him that she was a WOMAN as well as a NURSE. Couldn’t he see that she was pretty? Couldn’t he see that she was flesh and blood and not an automaton? Cynthia decided it was high time she did something about the situation. But what—short of being brazen and forward—could a girl do to make Dr. Sellars see that he was the man for her, she the woman for him?

GRADE: C

BEST QUOTES:
“She wished Walt would stop referring to Norman as a man who had committed manslaughter.” 

“I must be getting on in years, she thought wryly, remembering that soon she would have a birthday and be all of twenty-four.”

REVIEW:
Cynthia Doyle is yet another VNRN heroine who is in love with a doctor who does not know she is alive. Dr. Walt Sellars is a handsome but dedicated man who is head of physical therapy at a clinic that seems to do nothing else except PT, in a poor part of their Virigina town. She’s beginning to see her life slipping away—at age 23, it must be confessed— because she has worked with him for two years and he’s never asked her for a date, though she gets a little frisson of excitement when their hands touch accidentally, and her heart pounds when he’s near. 

Then one day as she is walking home, she sees a car speed through the neighborhood and hit a young boy, then speed off. As the locals and cops gather, a man shows up and states he was the driver—but Cynthia knows it was a woman driving. Still she pipes up as the local “Nurse Lady” everyone knows and says that the car wasn’t speeding and that the accident couldn’t be avoided. The reason for her lie is that she’s worried that the crowd will get unruly: “She knew mob violence. It had to be snuffed out before it began to simmer.” The man, Norman Brandt, is ready to pay for all the child’s medical bills—and make a date with Cynthia. She snubs him mightily because he lied about being the driver, and never mind that she did, too, but guess who turns up at her apartment to take out her roommate that night? The roommate, Roz Effinger, is a gorgeous woman on the lookout for a rich husband—but has decided that Norman is the man she finally wants to commit to! The little problem is that Norman, having seen Cynthia cradling the stricken boy’s head on her lap in the middle of the street, has decided he’s in love with her.

This is about where the plot gets really peculiar. Norman, we are told, is some sort of former spy for the government who is now being recalled to Washington and doesn’t have to do any top secret missions anymore, so he’s free to tell everyone that he doesn’t do top secret work anymore ... because that makes so much sense. Cynthia tells Norman she won’t date him because Roz likes him, so he tells Roz that he’s in love with Cynthia, and Roz says, “I had hoped it might be me. But since it’s Cyn, and she’s quite something too, I wish you both luck.” It was hard for me to believe that a woman who cares about nothing except marrying a wealthy man would be so gracious when losing the “man of her dreams.” Then Walt, seeing that Norman has become interested in Cynthia, suddenly decides out of nowhere that he’s got to stop her from getting involved with Norman. “How he would hate to see Cynthia leave. Why, the clinic simply would not be the same place without her!” So he decides to employ “devious means” to find out how serious Norman is and to interfere. He orders Cynthia to take a month’s vacation in the hope that she will go back home to Indiana to see her family, but they’re on a long driving trip out West and aren’t home, so she just stays in town and dates Norman. Frustrated, Walt calls her up all the time, quizzes her about her activities, and gets pissy when she tells him honestly what she’s been doing.

Before too long, Norman kisses Cynthia and then proposes, because what else comes next? She reasonably says she’d like to take more time to get to know him, but then comes up with the idea that she’s going to try to get Walt to kiss her, to see if she likes it more than she liked kissing Norman. Walt then sort of goes off his rocker and drags Cynthia off from a date she’s on with Norman, telling her, “I won’t let you marry that Brandt fellow,” adding that the way he’s going to accomplish this is to marry her himself. Then he kisses her, and Cynthia is left “wide-eyed and unbelieving,” but “it had not left her weak and shaken.” Nonetheless, she then spends the next few days upset with Walt that he’s not making more of an effort to be nice to her at work, to have lunch with her, to walk her home from work, since they’re engaged—all the while angry that “he had not said that he loved her,” or even, for that matter, asked her to marry him, just assumed they were engaged. During the five pages she’s acting like they are engaged, she’s telling herself that she has to go out and buy him a hot sandwich when he refuses to eat a cold one because “he was the man she probably would have to look after for the rest of her life,” and that when he is too busy to spend time with her, “she would have to get used to his time not being his own” and that she’s not his top priority.

Then Norman proposes a huge television fund-raiser for Walt’s clinic, hosted by the up-and-coming TV starlet who was driving the car who hit the boy, and Norman’s mother also decides to create a huge philanthropic campaign that will provide huge funds for the clinic. I mean, what? Walt really gets loopy then, grabbing Cynthia by the arms and hurting her, telling her she can’t see Norman anymore, and then driving very erratically when they have an argument in the car. He seems, frankly, like a significantly unhinged individual.

There’s a big crisis in the end that helps Cynthia figure out what to do, but neither man seems like a great choice. Norman, though he seems slightly more rational than Walt, pursues her relentlessly from the first time he sees her, and Walt just seems like a lunatic, which makes Cynthia’s devotion to him and semi-acceptance of his decision that she will marry him seem absurd. The clinic, which serves poor children crippled by polio or cerebral palsy, is barely mentioned, when it seems like it should be an important backbone to the story, since Cynthia makes it clear to everyone that she wants to continue working there for the rest of her career. The many unanswered questions about Norman’s career, the woman driving the hit-and-run car, Roz’s easy acceptance that she’s losing the man of her dreams to her roommate, and even a police officer who seems like he might turn into a potential love interest and doesn’t, just leave me wondering what the hell author Adelaide Humphries was thinking when she wrote this book. It comes off like a one-draft wonder written without any advance planning over a long weekend before the mortgage payment was due—and so I can’t recommend you give it any more consideration than she seems to have done.

Tangled Autumn

By Betty Neels ©1971 

When her romance with Andrew went wrong, Sappha had jumped at the chance of a job in Scotland to make a complete break. The change of background, not to mention the “Demon King,” in the person of the Dutch doctor, Rolf van Duyren, soon began to take her mind off the past—but then Andrew came back.

GRADE: B+

BEST QUOTES:
“I do believe you would feel compelled to offer any burglar foolish enough to enter a cup of tea before you laid him out with a poker.” 

“Don’t bother to think of anything to say—I’m sure it’ll come to you later. You can always write it down and commit it to memory and shoot it at me when next we meet.”

REVIEW
This is the third Betty Neels book I’ve read (I forgot to write the review of the second one, so I’ll have to re-read it before I write its review) and so far her books are proving fairly formulaic: Strong, capable woman meets enormous, dark, masterful Dutch man, travels to Holland and tames him. From what I have read of Betty Neels, I am not the first person to make this observation, but if you are unfamiliar with Betty Neels as I was, it’s news to you. She does pretty well with it in my limited experience—perhaps not surprising, as she is one of the Grandes Dames of romance writing. 

Anyway, here we have Nurse Sappha Devenish, who has left her London hospital after catching her fiancé several times—she’s a trusting gal—in the arms of another nurse, “a lush, blonde beauty.” She’s taken a post in Scotland, caring for a Dutch baroness—I’m suddenly realizing I don’t think we ever learned the patient’s first name—who is recovering from surgery for parathyroid osteodystrophy and also a broken arm and hip after she fell (I guess that’s the “osteodystrophy” part of her disease at work there) during a trip to visit old friends in Scotland.

En route to the house in Scotland where the baroness is recuperating, Sappha runs out of “petrol” and stalls her Mini in the middle of the road. She’s finally saved by “a very tall man with broad shoulders, a dark fierce face, haughty and hawk-nosed above a straight mouth; dark hair brushed back from a wide forehead.” He’s condescending, and she’s insulted, and she tells her patient, “he looked like the Demon King. You never saw such eyebrows.” The door opens, and guess who comes in? Dr. Rolf van Duyren, her patient’s son! Naturally they start off like oil and water, as he is always teasing her, she is always convinced that he is mocking her and so is constantly insulted by every little gesture or burp out of him. Soon she decides, on page 24, to tell him, “Some people don’t get on very well—I think perhaps we are like that.”

Naturally, on page 39, guess who turns up in the village? It’s Andrew! He proceeds to tell Sappha how he misses having her around and wants her back—though he never bothers to tell her he loves her. He takes her out for tea, aided and abetted by Rolf, who runs into the two coincidentally and paves the way for her to have the rest of the day off to spend with Andrew. The pair heads out for a long drive through a terrible rainstorm to see a view obscured by clouds and fog, and he talks about his plans for his bright, lucrative future in a posh city practice while disparaging Rolf’s work (he mistakenly thinks Rolf is “just” a country doctor, when in fact he is an important chief physician in a major teaching hospital back in Holland). Sappha is, much to my relief, left totally cold—even icy when a local woman requires an urgent C-section for a breech birth, and Rolf calls on the pair during their supper at the town inn to ask for their help, and Andrew urges Sappha not to go and refuses to go himself. (Naturally Rolf and Sappha save both woman and baby!)

Andrew leaves a letter for Sappha at the house, and she mails it back to him unopened, realizing suddenly that she is in fact in love with Rolf! And this is just on page 54! Now for 130 pages of a plot I’m not overly fond of—the hero frequently asking her about her boyfriend but she never tells him that she’d dumped him. This makes for a lot of tension and arguing and hostilities that admittedly can make for spicy scenes but just feels so unnecessary. I keep asking myself, Why doesn’t she just tell him the truth?

Rolf is actually kind of hot, attentive and caring—and he washes dishes! Though it is the 1970s, so he buttons her coat and buckles her seatbelt and literally picks her up and gets bossy from time to time, she even “meekly” obeying fairly often but also more often arguing back, which, it is hinted, is part of his attraction to her. “You’ll be the first woman under ninety who hasn’t been bowled over” by his stunning good looks, Sappha is told, and Rolf’s sister tells him, “You’re an old bear, and the trouble is no one ever tells you so or answers you back.” (She then goes on to point out that “Sappha does,” in case we hadn’t noticed.

The writing is pretty good, with occasional gems such as “She swallowed her heart back to where it belonged,” and the scene in which Sappha runs into Andrew and Rolf is particularly cute—she had just popped a large toffee into her mouth and then must manage it and the two young men to humorous effect. The story is smooth but not especially exciting, and the final scene a little confusing—she runs off and he waits about five minutes for no reason that is explained before going after her—but overall it is a decent book worth reading. And so my opinion of Betty Neels neatly aligns with the general consensus: She’s pretty good!a

Nurse Laurie’s Cruise

By Adelaide Humphries, ©1956

A nurse-companion on a Caribbean cruise sounded like fun to Laurie Fielding. But to make sure she got the job, Laurie tried to disguise her blonde loveliness before she went for the interview. The first person Laurie met on the Bianca was Jeff Anderson, so much the picture of the man every girl hopes to meet on a cruise that Laurie was instantly put on guard. As they cruised the exotic tropical islands, Laurie found herself paired off with the young professor writing a book on the West Indies and her beautiful employer with the attractive Jeff—with Laurie becoming more and more attracted to Jeff. A delightful and exciting story of a young nurse in search of adventure—with both danger and love lurking for Laurie in the blue waters of the Caribbean.

GRADE: C+

BEST QUOTES:
“I always thought most nurses looked like majordomos.” 

“Nurses have a way of managing things—and people.”

“Isn’t every young, single woman who saves up enough money for a cruise on the lookout for husband material?”

“Fear flooded over her, and she wanted to turn and run. But her nurse’s training restrained her.”

REVIEW:
Nurse Laurie Fielding meets all the criteria for a nurse position that she sees advertised—except the ad specifically requests that the applicant be “preferably not too attractive.” Of course, Laurie does not fit that bill, with her “natural blonde hair, big blue eyes, creamy skin, and a figure that more often than not draws wolf whistles.” So she wears a hair net and large tortoiseshell glasses to the interview, where young widow Irma Potts, age 36, hires Laurie even though, she says, “I don’t want someone to outshine me!” Irma is a flighty, vapid heiress with no actual illnesses other than a few days of seasickness, so Laurie needn’t worry that she “wouldn’t like spending all her time shut up in a cabin with her patient, when she was longing to enjoy the sea air, the pleasures of the voyage, and the interesting sights.” In short, Laurie is hoping for what she herself calls “a vacation” while getting paid for not doing any work, and that is exactly what she gets! In fact, Irma soon advises Laurie to quit dressing down, so even the “disguise” Laurie wears to get the job is quickly abandoned—yet another dopey plot device that goes nowhere.

On board, Laurie soon meets Jeff Anderson, and “there was something about him—perhaps because he looked so much like the sort of man a girl might dream about meeting on a cruise—that made Laurie dislike him.” She’s not wrong, actually; he’s not a likable man, aggressive, always pushing himself onto her and attempting to control her. She is frequently furious with him, but alas, we know what that means—she won’t have the sense or the ability to resist him much longer.  Soon he’s kissing her on a regular basis. “If Jeff had wanted to kiss her again, she knew he would have, without asking,” and the thought gives her chills—of pleasure, unfortunately, because have I mentioned that Laurie doesn’t have much sense?

Laurie tries to make it her job to protect Irma from wolves and thieves, but it’s not going well. She suspects Jeff of being a crook in part because he refuses to have his photograph taken. “If he was the adventurer she believed him to be, his past might catch up with him,” she decides, but is unable to keep him away from Irma. And then Irma is travelling with an enormous amount of valuable jewelry and wears it all at once, so everyone is aware of it, and then she won’t keep it in the safe. Laurie has concerns about a few other suspicious people besides Jeff, starting with a man named John Harvey who uses crutches to walk and whom Irma constantly calls “pathetic” due to his disability. Laurie regularly catches Mr. Harvey in the hall outside Irma’s room, though his room is on another floor, but immediately decides not to say anything about it, deciding that it “most likely amounted to nothing.”

Eventually Laurie decides that the best thing is for her to keep the jewels in her own room, and guess what? The  next night they’re stolen, and Laurie is a suspect! Now she’s trying to figure out who stole them and making a poor job of it. When she finds Mr. Harvey arguing with a rich older woman passenger, “it was another riddle that Laurie decided she might as well forget.” The next night, after finding Mr. Harvey in the hall again, she finds the empty jewel case back in her room—and promptly tosses it overboard. Then Laurie stumbles across a crewmember who is dying from a gunshot wound. He tells her, “The jewels—she found out I knew where they—” but she mentions this to exactly no one, and the man promptly dies. Laurie has the common sense of a gnat. Eventually she does something really stupid and almost gets herself shot, too, but almost every strong male on the ship shows up at the same time and she is rescued! And discovers she’s in love, too!

This is a perfunctory story whose plot makes no sense. On one hand, Laurie cannot put two and two together and constantly sabotages herself—until she is deciding she alone can capture the criminal, who she selects essentially out of the blue, and nearly gets herself killed by someone whose presence is unexplainable, too. Her—no surprise, this—love interest is portrayed in unflattering terms at every meeting, but after hating him for most of the story, she falls for him hard, and the sudden conversion makes as little sense as pretty much everything else in the book. To cap it all off, we have the consistently insulting descriptions of Mr. Harvey’s handicap, and, on visits to numerous ports of call, all the typical colonialistic, patronizing attitudes about Caribbean citizens and countries. My White Doctor Foundation is making a dual donation following this review, to the UNCF and the Cabrillo College Accessibility Support Center (a favorite cause of disabled and most beloved VNRN author Bill Neubauer). You can avoid the particularly noxious ick factor I had to wade through by just refusing to get on board Nurse Laurie’s Cruise.

Nurse Chadwick’s Sorrow

By Diana Douglas
(pseud. Richard Wilkes-Hunter), ©1967 

Ruth Chadwick would never forgive Dr. Barry Kade for a night of insanity that changed her life. She would never return to Dr. Graham Chadwick, her husband. The only thing that still tied her to these two men was a bond of pain and hatred. And now Tracey Norton was involved. Tracey … pretty, talented, very attractive to a man like Dr. Kade. Unable to stop her, Ruth saw Tracey being caught in her own hidden past—in the frightening truth that lay behind Nurse Chadwick’s sorrow.

GRADE: C

BEST QUOTES:
“Frigid type? No, you’re too pretty.”

“A man could be made to forget anything else when the girl he loved kissed him.”

“By Friday she had almost resolved to forget all about Barry Kade and dedicate herself to a lifetime of nursing.”

REVIEW:
Author Richard Wilkes-Hunter is not an author I enjoy. His books are generally sexist, stupid and dull, usually landing C-minus grades. So here we have a little treat—not the cover, of course, which is pretty lame—RWH has given us a book that is only irritating, without the usual over-the-top sexism! Curiously, Nurse Chadwick of the title is only a peripheral character. The book centers on Tracey Norton, who has just been hired as a scrub nurse at Pasadena General. From her very first surgery, when she meets Dr. Barry Kade’s large gray eyes beneath very black brows and long, curling lashes, she has to force herself to concentrate on the operation rather than the handsome young assistant surgeon.

Ruth Chadwick is the OR charge nurse, “still attractive, though she must be 30 or more,” thank you very much, Richard. She is also a strict disciplinarian who hates Dr. Kade with a burning passion, for some mysterious reason, so there will be a lot of floundering around in the plot until the secret is finally revealed two-thirds of the way through the book. In the interim Tracey has coffee with Barry Kade and then a few very pleasant dates, though she risks the ire of Ruth Chadwick in doing so. That risk is made especially problematic since Ruth has invited Tracey to take a room in her apartment. Improbably, Tracey accepts, and then, in the name of being honest, is fairly consistently rude and insulting to Ruth.

In close quarters, Tracey is able to spot the mysteries in Ruth’s life. Ruth acknowledges she has a 3-year-old son named David who obviously does not live with her. Ruth goes away every weekend to some undisclosed location, and is driven home by a man in sports clothes in an open convertible—and then cries herself to sleep in her bedroom. “A woman with a child to live for had no right to abandon herself to such grief,” thinks Tracey with great wisdom and kindness.

One afternoon, after a very tense surgery, Ruth takes it as a mild criticism when Tracey says she is going to the cafeteria for coffee—Ruth usually asks one of the student nurses to make the coffee but had instead sent the student to do more important chores—and Tracey “stared defiantly” and snaps, “I wish you would take that chip off your shoulder, Ruth. Why don’t you save that charge-nurse jazz for the operating room? Outside working hours it neither becomes you nor impresses me!” This sort of hyper-aggressive, snarky remark is, unfortunately, characteristic of many of Tracey’s comments to Ruth, and peculiarly, Ruth responds like a puppy who has been smacked with a rolled-up newspaper and becomes thoughtful, then sad, whimpering, “Am I as bad as that?” and asking if they can still be friends. I liked Ruth better when she was snapping, “Walters! A towel for Dr. Russell!”

Now, as Tracey’s mean-girl ways inexplicably cause Ruth to open up more, we get numerous hints about Ruth’s past. Barry tells her that he has been “nearly four years saving for something that’s very important to me,” and that Ruth’s dislike of him goes back four years. Calculating Tracey thinks, “Nearly four years ago. That would be before Ruth’s child was born.” Ruth’s husband doesn’t help when he when he waylays Tracey as she is walking home from work, creepily offering her a ride with the friendly comment, “I promise not to attempt your seduction.” Tracey immediately volunteers that Ruth cries at night and that she knows he drives her home on Sundays, but when he tells her fiercely that he loves Ruth and wants to make the marriage work, Tracey answers, “It’s really not any of my business. I neither peep nor listen. Nor do I pry into other people’s lives!” It’s a remarkable, completely obvious lie. So when Graham asks her to break her date with Barry and go spy on Ruth and David at a remote beach, of course she does, though Barry turns out to be insecure and all but stops speaking to her. What Tracey finds naturally causes everything to turn out perfectly for everyone, even for her, the one who deserves it least. If the Big Secret everyone is keeping is actually interesting, it’s just way too complicated to be resolved by Tracey showing up at the beach and yelling at Ruth some more, then sending David for  “cutting-edge” surgery (not used today) that is explained in such excruciating detail you might nod off.

Some male writers can pull off nurse novels. Bill Neubauer and Jean Francis Webb, for example, are respectful, gentle authors who can tell a story with real feeling. Others, however, such as Mr. Wilkes-Hunter (and William Daniel Ross, to name another), clearly view women as objects, and not infrequently demonstrate no understanding for how women act or speak, instead making them bros with perky breasts. This is Tracey Norton in a nutshell, who may be the heroine of this book, but she is no hero—neither admirable, charitable or even likeable. “You have the old girl eating out of your hand,” says a fellow nurse to Tracey, as if dominating Ruth is the only option. It’s not, and if Ruth is happy at the end of the book, I still felt sorry about how badly she’d been treated. So unless you enjoy spending time with mean people like Tracey Norton, you’d do a lot better to look for a book by Bill Neubauer.