The Women
by Kristin Hannah
Review
A few chapters into “The Women,” I experienced a wave of déjà vu — and it wasn’t just the
warm Tab and the creme rinse. If you grew up in the 1980s, the Vietnam redemption arc
was imprinted on your gray matter by a stampede of young novelists and filmmakers
coming to grips with their foundational trauma: patriotic innocence shattered by the
barbarity of jungle warfare; the return home to a hostile nation; the chasm of despair and
addiction; and finally, the healing power of activism. This was the generational narrative,
told and retold in classics like “Born on the Fourth of July” and “The Things They Carried” —
the ballad of the boomer, a masculine coming-of-age cri de coeur.
Now Kristin Hannah takes up the Vietnam epic and re-centers the story on the experience
of women — in this instance, the military nurses who worked under fire, on bases and in
field hospitals, to patch soldiers back together. Or not.
The familiar beats snare you from the outset. When the sheltered San Diego debutante
Frances “Frankie” McGrath’s adored older brother is killed in action in 1966, she’s inspired
to enlist as an Army nurse. “Women can be heroes, too,” her brother’s friend tells her.
Frankie laughs. Her flag-waving, emotionally constipated parents are not amused.
Dumped in-country without adequate training, Frankie learns the ropes from seasoned
nurses and battle-scarred male doctors who propel her past internalized insecurities with
barks of no-nonsense encouragement: “Damn it, McGrath! We don’t have time for fear.
You’re good enough. Do it!”
Indeed, there’s something special about Frankie. Within months, she becomes an
experienced trauma nurse, confronts the horrors of gut wounds and napalm with courage
and compassion, rages against the naïve indifference of her family and friends back home
— and attracts the devotion of handsome, tormented, unexpectedly married men.
Hannah is in top form here, plunging the reader into the chaotic miseries of the combat
zone. She deploys details to visceral effect, whether Frankie’s performing an emergency
tracheotomy during a mortar attack or sipping Fresca in the O Club afterward, while an
evocative soundtrack of the Doors, the Beatles and the Turtles plays in the background.
(“Music followed the smoke, infusing it with memories of home. ‘I wanna hold your ha-aa-
aa-nd.’”)
Kristin Hannah’s New Novel Puts Combat Nurses Front and
Center in Vietnam
By Beatriz Williams
February 1, 2024