The Last Shaft (Shaft #7)

The Last Shaft, by Ernest Tidyman

January, 1977  Corgi Books

(Original UK hardcover edition 1975)

Well, the Internet Archive fixed itself and this final volume of the Shaft series, only ever published in the UK, is now back online. A big thanks to the person who scanned and uploaded their precious hardcover copy, as The Last Shaft is incredibly scarce and overpriced, either the orginal 1975 UK hardcover or the 1977 Corgi paperback. It’s surprising the novel still hasn’t been published in the United States. 

And also a big thanks to Steve Aldous, who notes that Shaft creator Ernest Tidyman intended this as the final novel in the series from the outset, and tried to get it published in the US. I’d love to know why he was unable to; it sounds as if Tidyman was courting upscale (read: hardcover) imprints, which is odd, given that the previous two Shaft novels – Shaft Has A Ball and Shaft’s Carnival Of Killers – were paperback originals. Had Carnival Of Killers and Shaft Has A Ball sold so poorly that Bantam passed on The Last Shaft? Or was it that Bantam (or other US imprints) passed on The Last Shaft due to Tidyman’s insistence on making the title of the book literal? I guess we’ll never know. 

The helluva it is, Shaft’s Carnival Of Killers is the book that should’ve been passed on in the US, with The Last Shaft coming out instead. Carnival Of Killers, written by Robert Turner, was incredibly tepid, whereas The Last Shaft, written by Philip Rock (who turned in the awesome Hickey & Boggs tie-in), is for the most part fantastic – a pulpy slice of ‘70s crime, served up just the way I like it. And Philip Rock is a much more talented author than Robert Turner; there is no part where Rock seems to be winging it, banging out the words to meet his quota. The Last Shaft moves at a steady clip throughout, maintaining tension, characterization, and good dialog. In fact it comes off at times like Hickey & Boggs, which itself was a fantastic piece of ‘70s crime-pulp. 

There’s no pickup or mention of the previous book, Shaft’s Carnival Of Killers. Shaft is even more bitter and worn-down when we meet him this time, looking out the window of his Manhattan apartment in the very early morning hours and wondering if he wants another belt of vodka. We are told Shaft is sick of New York, and wonders if it is time for him to go. Philip Rock maintains the world-weary characterization of John Shaft that Ernst Tidyman gave the character, as Robert Turner also did, but Rock manages to make Shaft likable, whereas Turner didn’t. Also we are often told Shaft’s a big bruiser, and, given the amount of action in The Last Shaft, I more so saw Jim “Slaughter” Brown as Shaft than I did Richard Roundtree. 

But then, The Last Shaft could just as easily have been the novelization of the third Slaughter movie we never got. It has more in common with the Blaxploitation action movies of the early-mid ‘70s than it does the hardboiled P.I. yarn Ernst Tidyman gave us in the original Shaft novel (which I really need to go back and read to completion someday). In this one we have Shaft beating people up, gunning them down, blasting away with a machine gun, and even blowing a place up and napalming stuff. We’re often reminded how he’s “Big, Black, and Bold,” per Billy Preston’s awesome “Slaughter” (which curiously was never released in its complete form until 2009’s Inglourious Basterds soundtrack.) 

Overvall, The Last Shaft sees John Shaft essentially becoming another Executioner or Revenger, or any other of the proliferation of mob-busters who showed up on the paperback racks in the mid-‘70s. Which again makes it curious that this novel did not come out as a paperback here in the US. Regardless, Shaft here turns into a one-man commando squad who takes on the underworld, even outfitted with a trick vehicle that’s stuffed to the gills with all manner of firearms and explosives. He even manages to get laid while kicking some Mafia ass, which is also par for the course for these ‘70s mob-busters. 

The plot is basically a Maguffin that allows Shaft to become a vigilante. He gets a visitor despite the early morning hour, none other than Captain Vic Anderozzi, a recurring series character. Anderozzi has come here with a guy named Morris Mickelberg, who per Anderozzi is the guy responsible for all the payoffs and whatnot going on in the city. Anderozzi has also brought along a massive box that contains all the dirty secrets – names, payoff dates, receipts, etc. It’s kind of a goofy setup, but Anderozzi’s reasoning is that Shaft is the only guy he can trust – the captain’s goal is to take Mickelberg and the box to the District Attorney first thing in the morning, and he just needs someplace safe to stay in the interim. 

Shaft’s reaction makes him seem a wholly unattractive character, which gave me bad flashbacks to Shaft’s Carnival Of Killers. Shaft essentially tells Anderozzi he’s crazy and immediately grabs a shotgun and takes off – Shaft realizes “half the city” will be out to kill the captain, kill Mickelberg, and get that box. So Shaft leaves his “good friend” in the lurch, but to Shaft’s credit he has a change of heart while escaping; Shaft sees two men on the roof of his apartment building, one of them wielding a machine gun, and he swoops in to the rescue. As mentioned, Shaft does a fair bit of killing in The Last Shaft, blasting these two would-be hitmen apart with his shotgun. Philip Rock doesn’t dwell much on the gore, but he capably handles the action, a gift he demonstrated as well in Hickey & Boggs. 

Ernst Tidyman foreshadows his intention of making the title of The Last Shaft literal with the offing of a major character here in the opening, an occurrence which sends Shaft on his rampage – and furthers the “one-man commando Mafia buster” connotations of the novel. (I say Tidyman and not Rock, as per Steven Aldous the novel is based on a storyline Tidyman gave to Rock, with Tidyman also editing Rock’s final draft.) This death serves to be Shaft’s impetus for the rest of the novel: to get revenge on the killers and see that they all burn, handing off Mickelberg’s papers to the proper authorities. But Shaft is from this point a hunted man, with assorted crooks, mobsters, and corrupt cops out to get him. 

If there’s any failing to The Last Shaft, it’s that Rock (and Tidyman, I guess) introduces a deus ex machina conceit, a character who is randomly introduced into the narrative and will prove, again and again, to have just what Shaft needs for any given situation. This character is named Willie, a seemingly-inconsequential character who is introduced when Shaft checks himself into a hotel in the city. Willie, we’re told, has a “peculiar face,” one that is “striated,” and his hair is goofy, too. Another character mentions that Willie’s wife works at a salon and she “experiments” on Willie for practice. It’s an altogether curious intro for a character who will ultimately play a huge role in The Last Shaft, indeed serving as Shaft’s sidekick. Again, one can see this as a novelization of a movie that never was. 

Willie, as it turns out, is aware of who Shaft is (our hero giving a fake name when checking in and also covering himself with a hooded parka), and offers his help. This begins a gag that runs through the novel; Willie has decided he wants to be a private eye, and has been taking correspondence courses on it. But as the novel progresses, it turns out to be more – much more – than this. Willie not only knows all the tricks of the trade, but also has a delivery truck that is outfitted with virtually every firearm (up to and including machine guns), a mobile phone, and even C4 plastic explosive. (Not to mention napalm!) Rock clearly knows all this is a bit too much, and to his credit he has Shaft initially shocked by this, until finally accepting all of Willie’s vast bag of tricks with nonchalance. 

But seriously, if Shaft needs to shoot at someone, Willie has a machine gun for him. If Shaft needs to get some people out of a building they’re holed up in, Willie has napalm for Shaft to douse the parking garage with, flame-roasting the people within. (A sequence that has an eerie bit of prescience to it; Shaft and a random New Yorker stand on the street and watch the building burn, wondering how long the people trapped above have to survive, much as real-life New Yorkers would 26 years later as they helplessly watched the Twin Towers burn on 9/11.)  If Shaft needs to do some detective work and get a phone number, Willie knows just the things to say to the operator on his mobile phone. And yet at the same time we are to understand that Willie is naïve, an amateur who looks up to Shaft; there’s a big of a Hickey & Boggs vibe here, with the bickering and bantering black-white duo, but Willie is not Shaft’s equal on the action front, and acts more as the straight man. 

Willie also acts as a chaffeur, driving Shaft around town in his delivery truck, which is disguised as a bakery truck. And if that disguise is uncovered, not to worry; Willie has also taken a course on how to quickly paint the truck so that it looks like something else, like for example a yogurt delivery truck. Meanwhile Shaft sits in the back of the truck, formulating his plan of action; the second half of the novel is comprised of a series of assaults Shaft stages on the New York underworld, again operating in the same capacity as a Mack Bolan or a Ben Martin – like Bolan, he even takes to calling his targets moments before hitting them. 

Shaft also finds the time to pick up Sandra Shane, Morris Mickelberg’s hotstuff ex-wife, a former topless dancer Mickelberg picked up years ago. Now she’s determined to get the money her ex never gave her, becoming sexually excited over Shaft’s promises to get it for her. Rock doesn’t do as much to bring her to life, but at least Sandra Shane provides the series with some genre-mandatory spice, something that was completely absent in Shaft’s Carnival Of Killers. That said, the Shaft-Sandra conjugation is not much dwelt upon, though we learn that Shaft, uh, gets hs rocks off a few times. Our author has more fun with another secondary character, Rudolph Gromyck, a dirty New York cop who tries to outwit the Mafia and his fellow cops and find Shaft – so he can get Mickelberg’s papers and become rich off them. 

There are a lot of one-off mobsters yammering at each other on the phone before getting blown away by Shaft; our hero kills a fair number of people in the novel, again like Bolan or any other ‘70s men’s adventure protagonist. Rock also provides a little comedy with Willie fretting over Shaft using all those weapons in his truck – goofy, particularly when you consider that Willie himself is the one who stocked his truck with all of the weapons. But given that the novel moves so quickly, the reader doesn’t have much time to ponder over all of the plotholes. 

Unfortunately, the reader does have time to ponder over the ending of the novel, which is guaranteed to upset everyone. SPOILER ALERT, but The Last Shaft, as mentioned, lives up to its title. In a humorously tacked-on ending, we read as Shaft finally returns to his apartment building after successfully wiping out all the criminals who have been hounding him the entire novel. And on the way into the building the poor guy is mugged by a random thug and shot dead. This brief sequence, likely written by Ernest Tidyman himself, does not flat-out state “Shaft died,” but otherwise it’s clear as day – the mugger shoots, and we’re told the metal of the gun “became a blossom of flame…but only for the shortest moment known to man, that moment before dying.” Granted, the character dying could be the mugger; Shaft has already proven himself to be quite a resourceful individual, and might have pulled out a holdout gun and shot the mugger before the mugger could shoot him. I mean, Tidyman (or Rock) doesn’t specify who is dying in that last sentence, so it might not even be Shaft. And yet, I don’t think so; Tidyman’s intended irony here is that Shaft has spent the entirety of The Last Shaft cleaning up the city – of the bigwig mobsters and other high-level crooks – and then he is shot down by a random mugger. 

As mentioned above, perhaps it’s this lame ending that kept The Last Shaft from being published in the US. If so, it’s strange…I mean the publisher could’ve easily removed it before publication. As I say, this brief finale is tacked on, and comes off as the literary equivalent of the similarly tacked-on surprise ending of contemporary action flick Sudden Death: a downbeat, nihilistic cap-off that seems thrust on the reader more so for shock value than for any dramatic intent. 

Overall, I did enjoy The Last Shaft, and it’s too bad Tidyman didn’t get it published in the US…and change the finale along the way, opening the series up to be the continuing adventures of Shaft and Willie. But likely Tidyman considered himself above such pulpy things, and preferred offing the character that had made him famous. 

I’m reading the Shaft books way out of order; next I will likely read Shaft Has A Ball, but one of these days I will read Tidyman’s original Shaft novel.

The Executioner #20: New Orleans Knockout

The Executioner #20: New Orleans Knockout, by Don Pendleton

November, 1974  Pinnacle Books

Don Pendleton has his template for The Executioner now and he’s sticking to it: New Orleans Knockout covers all the staples, from Mack “The Executioner” Bolan announcing his presence to the local mob via an introductory ambush, to lots of surveillance and head-games with said mob, to the local cops who secretly root for Bolan…even the now-standard phonecalls between Bolan and undercover Federal cop Leo Turrin, who provides Bolan with insider Mafia info. We even get the new-to-the-template staple of Bolan about to get laid at story’s end. But this time Bolan’s got a motor vehicle that fires rockets, man! 

Really, I enjoyed New Orleans Knockout a lot, even though Pendleton still pulls the same copout as in previous books – another recurring staple, now that I think of it – where we are constantly teased with this big, climactic action scene that never happens. To wit, this is the umpteenth book in a row where Bolan finds out a ton of Mafia hardmen are converging on the titular city he happens to be in…but the huge battle never happens. I guess this is Pendleton’s way of showing us how Bolan gets by with his wits rather than his firepower, but this too is getting to be a bit much; at this point in The Executioner, one gets the impression that taking down the mob is as simple as making a few threatening phone calls and impersonating an enforcer. And having a motor home that fires rockets. 

As ever we open with a preemptory hit as Bolan makes his presence known in New Orleans; a cool opening in which Bolan, clad in black and his skin painted black, infiltrates the grounds of fashion-forward capo Carlotti. Again Bolan is presented as almost superhuman; the sequence is told from Carlotti’s point of view, and Bolan just appears in the man’s home, holding a gun to his head, despite there being armed guards everywhere. This leads to a crazed part that prefigures the ‘90s flick Speed where Carlotti drives into the compound of another New Orleans capo, but Carlotti can’t take his foot off the accelerator, or the bomb Bolan has wired there will go off. Pendleton well relays, mostly via dialog, how painful this is for Carlotti, who has not been able to move his leg for so long that it’s gone numb; I started massaging my own leg muscles in sympathy. 

We get the usual stuff with a local cop who soon learns the Executioner is afoot in his city, and receives random phone calls from the man himself, secretly offering this most wanted “criminal” assistance. In other words, the usual thing; I almost wonder if we’ll ever have a future installment with a Sheriff Buford T. Justice-type who is determined to bring Bolan down no matter what. Otherwise what’s interesting this time is the cop is named Jack Petro, and so of course I just assumed he was related to Kathy Petro. 

The biggest news in New Orleans Knockout is that Bolan has now acquired a massive GM motor home that he’s spent over $300k in mob money on, $100k of which was dedicated to outfitting the “war wagon” in state-of-the-art surveillance equipment, as well as the aforementioned rocket-firing system, which comes out of the rooftop with the press of a button. Curiously, we learn the motor home is not armored, and the windows aren’t bulletproof. Also, I didn’t get a good mental image of how the vehicle operates, particularly some of the weapons stuff. For example, we’re told Bolan doesn’t even use his hand to fire the rockets, and does it all with his leg, moving the sighting system and whatnot and then “slamming” his own leg with his fist to fire the rocket. Honestly this gave the entire scene some unintentional humor, as I just pictured his madman sitting in his huge motor home, watching a viewcreen and then randomly hitting his own leg. 

Another notable development in New Orleans Knockout is the return of future Able Team members Pol Balancales and Gadgets Schwartz. However they really aren’t in the book that much, and are just an extra plot Maguffin; in reality, Bolan spends more time with Pol’s sexy “kid” sister, Toni Balancales, in her early 20s and spectacularly built, though Pendleton as ever doesn’t dwell much on naughty stuff. It is nice though that he’s finally decided to cater to genre norms and give us a willing babe each volume. Toni too falls into the template, as she has the plucky, “I’m tough but I’m still a woman” demeanor as most other Pendleton gals. 

Speaking of unintentional humor, there’s a lot of it with Toni and Bolan. As we all know, Mack Bolan’s trademark phrase is “Stay hard,” and, well…Bolan keeps telling Toni to “stay hard,” leading to Toni to respond, “I’ve got to get hard…you stay hard!” It’s all quite goofy and funny, and it’s clear Pendleton doesn’t realize this (but then, maybe he did). But also, what with this plucky girl saying she needs to “get hard,” it all has a bit of a postmodern ring in our “gender is fluid” modern day. 

I got the impression Pendleton had recently read – or watched – The Anderson Tapes, as quite a bit of New Orleans Knockout concerns bugging and surveilling mobsters, with Bolan often sitting in the “command chair” of his motor home and listening to people talk far away, Pendleton delivering it all like a transcript much as Lawrence Sanders did in his best-seller. But Pendleton has certainly done his homework on surveillance. Toni informs Bolan that Pol and Gadgets started up “Able Group,” a private eye outfit that specializes in bugging places, typically working for companies that want to surveil other companies, and we get a lot of detail on the hardware they use. Recently the two were approached by a “Mr. Kirk,” who claimed to be a fed and tasked them with bugging one of the New Orleans Mafia bigwigs. Now Pol and Gadgets are missing, and Toni is close to panic as it’s been a week. Bolan quickly deduces that “Mr. Kirk” was none other than mobster Carlotti, looking to bug a rival don. 

Not to worry, though, as taking down the Mafia is essentially a cakewalk. It’s such a breeze for Bolan that there is no moment where he seems out of sorts or caught unawares. He slips in and out of Mafia hardsites pretending to be a troubleshooter from the organization, once again falling on that “Ace of Spades” gambit where he flips a poker card over as a sign of who he “really” is, and of course the mobsters blab freely, not knowing it’s the Executioner himself standing before them. Bolan at this point is toying with them; his goal seems to be to get all the families to kill each other, and to do so he plays mental tricks – like using a sniper rifle to blow apart a golf ball just as a mob chieftan is about to swing at it, and then calling him later to taunt him. 

Gil Cohen’s typically-great cover is both accurate and misleading. Accurate because the climax does take place during Mardis Gras, but misleading because neither Bolan’s prey nor the girl he’s holding at gunpoint are wearing costumes. Bolan however is wearing his blacksuit, so Cohen got that part correct. Getting to the climax, though, there really isn’t much in the way of action. Really, at this point Bolan takes down the mob mostly via phone calls and listening in on conversations. We’re often told of enemy forces encamped around the area, but Bolan slips in and out of their base camps with no problem; Pendleton is so focused on suspense over action that he even casually informs us that Bolan hits a couple places during his travels around the area, leaving these action scenes entirely off-page. 

Instead, Pendleton saves the fireworks for the finale, as Bolan takes his motor home onto the insanely-crowded streets of New Orleans just as Mardis Gras begins. This part alone is the most unbelievable element in the entirety of New Orleans Knockout, but Pendleton spends enough time on it that he makes it seem believable: Bolan, his motor home disguised as a mobile TV news station, creeping along the streets while engulfed by a human tide of partiers. Cohen’s cover art illustrates a scene that occurs here, as Bolan goes out into the crowd to rescue Toni, who has briefly been taken captive – even this happens and is resolved so quickly that, again, it all seems to be so easy for our hero. I mean Bolan just blows the mobster’s brains out, even though the guy’s holding a gun to Toni’s head and his twitching nerves might cause his finger to jerk on the trigger. 

Anton Chekhov would have been well pleased, as Pendleton follows the “gun on the mantleplace” dictum of Chekhov, or whatever it Chekhov called it; after teasing us about the rockets on the motor home throughout the narrative, Pendleton does indeed have Bolan employ them in the novel’s climax. This is on an assault of a fortified mob hardsite, Bolan blasting the shit out of the place with three rockets and then dispensing mercy shots to the flaming, screaming victims of his assault. For once Bolan comes close to the murderous, cipher-like vibe of imitators Johnny Rock and Philip Magellan, in an ending scene that has him gunning down a defenseless old man…and then briefly feeling bad about it, but brushing it off because the old man was a Mafia boss, so he deserved it. 

Pol and Gadgets stay off-page, and instead it’s up to Toni Balancales to see Bolan off…another humorous bit where she calls Bolan on his motor home’s mobile phone and demands that Bolan pick her up so she can give him some good lovin’ before he leaves town. And Bolan keeps trying to talk her out of it! Again though, Pendleton has finally decided to acquiesce to the genre and has Bolan ultimately decide to pick Toni up so he can bang her brains out…off-page, of course, as the novel ends here. 

All told, I enjoyed New Orleans Knockout quite a bit, but at this point The Executioner is almost becoming cartoonish with its breezy disregard for reality. Not that I have a problem with that, it’s just that Pendleton’s overly-serious narratorial voice clearly indicates that he himself doesn’t see it all as cartoonish, which is kind of crazy. I mean, at least the uncredited ghostwriters of The Sharpshooter and The Marksman knew their protagonists were psychopaths.

Women Of The Green Berets

 
Women Of The Green Berets, by Rand Michaels

No month stated, 1967  Lancer Books

I have to admit, I never would have thought of combining Robin Moore’s The Green Berets with Jacqueline Susann’s Valley Of The Dolls, but obscure author Rand Michaels thought of that very thing. Or perhaps it was publisher Lancer Books who came up with the genre mash-up and slapped a blurb on the back cover of Women Of The Green Berets, who knows. The important thing is that this paperback original of 223 pages does a fairly good job of juggling hellish ‘Nam battle sequences with soapy melodrama – the only problem is, there’s zero in the way of the exploitative stuff you might expect, with the novel ultimately coming off as rather anemic on the trash front. 

The novel also doesn’t really live up to its title, as it is more so concerned with the Green Berets themselves, instead of their women. Also, I was surprised that the entire novel is set in Vietnam; I assumed there would be stateside material with those lonely and sex-starved Green Beret women playing the field. Rather, there’s only one wife in the book, her name Evelyn, and she’s come to Saigon to see her husband, 27 year-old Captain Mike Colby. Otherwise we have a native woman who is involved with Ken Hubbard, another guy on Captain Mike’s force, and also a hotstuff doctor named Nina Field, who is involved with yet another of Captain Mike’s men, Dave Lawlor. And yes, “Captain Mike;” author Rand Michaels for the most part refers to all characters by their first names. 

It's Eveyln who serves as the main female protagonist, and Michaels takes her through hell over the course of the book. The plotting has you expecting that soap opera stuff, and what’s funny is the author seems to be catering to it…only to go in an entirely different direction. Long story short, Evelyn comes to Saigon to see Mike, but due to the war and all they’re unable to meet. Evelyn nearly gets picked up by another white guy here in Saigon on business, but he ultimately turns her down because as it turns out he is married, too, and wants to be faithful. So Evelyn then is determined to have some extramarital sex. She goes into a bar to get picked up, only to get drugged by yet another American here on business, one who thinks he’s accidentally killed Evelyn with an overdose, and thus orchestrates leaving her body to be found. As I say, the plotting is all over the place in this one. 

It only gets more frenzied, as it turns out Evelyn did not die of an overdose, just passed out. A kindly native kid takes her back to his home so she can change into clean clothes (the “faked death” orchestration entailed putting Evelyn’s “corpse” in a crashed car)…and then the kid’s dad comes downstairs, pulls Evelyn back up to his room, and rapes her all night! Actually, this does have a bit of a dark Jacqueline Susann vibe to it. Shockingly, this is I think the only sex scene in the entire novel, though its of course up to debate whether a rape scene even counts as a sex scene. Personally I’d say it doesn’t, but I’m only noting here because this is it so far as the sleazy stuff goes…and all of it occurs entirely off-page! 

So yes, folks, this is one of those curiously “dirty” books that isn’t dirty at all. Rather, it is as mentioned the war stuff that takes more of a focus in the narrative. Captain Mike can’t meet with Evelyn when she comes to Saigon because he’s been tasked with starting up a new base out in the ‘Nam hinterlands, and must put together an A Team to helm the base. So he spends the majority of the novel in the field fighting Charlie. Rand Michaels certainly has an understanding of the nightmarish life of an American soldier in Vietnam, with Mike and team alternately bored out of their wits or vastly outnumbered by an entrenched enemy. Michaels also has no qualms with killing off major characters in these battle sequences. 

Michaels also has no qualms with dropping potentially-interesting subplots. Nina Field, the hotstuff doctor who works the base and handles the injured GIs, has an early subplot that I thought was the most interesting thing in Women Of The Green Berets. She’s kidnapped early on, by the thugs who work for a native who is clearly wealthy, and taken to a place where a VC bigwig demands that Nina do plastic surgery to his injured face. Nina does so – and Rand Michaels displays some plastic surgery knowledge here, again giving the book the vibe of a Susann et al potboiler – but she also permanently disfigures the guy’s face with a “V” and a “C” on each cheek, so that he will be unable to hide his true nature. Nina manages to escape, and tells the military authorities…but nothing else is done with this. I envisioned a plotline of a guy with “VC” on his face coming after Nina for revenge, but it never happened. 

Instead, there is a lot of stuff about Mike and his crew out in the Vietnam jungle trying to get a base started while fending off frequent VC attacks. There is a definite air of defeatism to the battles, so this certainly isn’t a gung-ho combat novel. And yet, there’s no real violence, either. Mike and crew will “shoot down” VC and occasionally we’ll read of someone “blown to bits” by mortar or bomb traps. So this isn’t The Black Eagles, is what I’m saying, and is more of a prefigure of Michael Herr’s Dispatches, with the author managing to convey the nightmarishly surreal atmosphere of combat in ‘Nam. 

In this regard there’s a lot of material about Captain Mike and team trying to fortify the base while winning the hearts and minds of the natives. “Pacification” is the concept Mike keeps drilling into his team. This is an especially hard lesson for Dave Lawlor, sort of the “Animal Mother” of the group, for those of who have read Gustav Hasford’s The Short-Timers…or seen the film version, Full Metal Jacket (which pales in comparison to the source material). Even here, though, Rand drops potentially-cool subplots. There’s a part early on where Mike and team get some R&R in Saigon, and Lawlor goes out with a sexy native babe he’s fairly certain is a VC honey trap. He goes along with her, pretending ignorance, laughing to himself how she’s so clearly leading him into a trap…and ready to kill her VC pals with his bare hands. 

And the reader keeps waiting to get back to this section – in true potboiler style, Rand Michaels tells Women Of The Green Berets in a sort of snapshot style, jumping from character to character – and the reader is disappointed. Ultimately we do not see any of it happen; when finally Lawlor returns to the narrative, it’s from the perspective of Nina Field, and she has to mend the beaten-up Lawlor who is carried into her operating room. Only through dialog does a bloody but grinning Lawlor inform us that he did indeed kill those VC scum with his bare hands. Strange decisions like this ultimately sink Women Of The Green Berets; it’s like the author cannot fully commit to either a soapy melodrama or a violent war yarn. 

On that note, Mike and wife Evelyn handle the brunt of the melodrama stuff. They spend the majority of the novel separated, until briefly reconnecting during another of Mike’s infrequent R&Rs, late in the book – and here again all the lovin’ is off-page. The soapy stuff is all from Evelyn’s perspective, as after the rape she’s decided she will divorce Mike, due to shame or somesuch, but after a week together with Mike she apparently changes her mind. But Rand throws another plot curveball and things pan out much differently than Evelyn suspected – and the author doesn’t even bother to give us a resolution to this subplot, as the last we see of Evelyn she’s flying back home to America. 

Meanwhile Women Of The Green Berets ends on a big battle scene – we’ve already had a long sequence detailing a Khe Sahn-like siege the base endured – with the Green Berets withstanding a big VC attack. We get more “Animal Mother” stuff with Dave Lawlor cruelly toying with his prey before killing them, and also more on the hell of war with VC “kids” being gunned down in the crossfire, even after the American soldiers have let them go. And here Women Of The Green Berets comes to a close, the titular “women” long forgotten about and ultimately inconsequential to the narrative. All of which leads me to conclude that it was in fact Lancer Books that slapped this “The Green Berets meets Valley Of The Dolls” tag on the back cover, because as it turns out that is not the novel Rand Michaels actually delivers.