Get to Know Them First: One Sassy Canadian Soldier’s Story

Today, we hear from Doris Gregory, author of the memoir, How I Won the War for the Allies: One Sassy Canadian Soldier’s Story, and her publisher, Ronsdale Press.  Read on to learn why Doris Gregory felt compelled to write about the Canadian Women’s Army Corps, and her journey from unknown scribbler to published author.

The Book

Still sassy, Doris Gregory takes the reader back over seventy years to the time when she broke with tradition, first by publicly challenging the University of British Columbia’s discrimination against women, and then by joining the Canadian Women’s Army Corps. Her memoir allows us to travel with her across the Atlantic and to take refuge in underground shelters while bombs fall on London. Unlike most memoirs of the war that focus on battles, Gregory shows the everyday mundane activities of office life, working under some less-than-brilliant supervisors. Gregory transforms what could have been a dull soldier’s life into one of small adventures: cycling along traffic-free roads through southern England, the midlands and Scottish lowlands, slipping into neutral, forbidden Eire, and looking into the gun barrel of an angry German sentry. Although at times the war weighs heavily upon her, the author’s optimism, enthusiasm and sense of humour permeate this memoir, full of laughter and surprises.

The Author

Doris Gregory was born Doris Filmer-Bennett in Vancouver, B.C. She interrupted her studies at the University of British Columbia to join the Canadian Women’s Army Corps. She trained in Victoria and then served for most of the war overseas in London. After the war she undertook extensive studies at the Clarke Institute of Psychiatry in Toronto before opening an independent clinical practice, publicized by her weekly newspaper column, “Life Psycle.” She now lives in Vancouver, where she writes full time.Tell us a little bit about the experience of writing your first book.At first I had intended writing only for friends and family, but when I discovered that many people had never even heard of the Canadian Women’s Army Corps I felt impelled to try for a wider audience. That meant, if not a novel, at least a memoir in the style of a novel. Considering my meagre publication history, limited to a few years of weekly columns for a rural freebie newspaper, self-publishing seemed the only route to go. But then, when the editor I consulted said that would run me about $10,000, I laid aside the chapter or two I had submitted to her—until four years later when something led me to join Ruth Kozak’s writing class at Brock House here in Vancouver.Ruth and my classmates changed everything. Their enthusiasm and encouragement provided new impetus. Ruth, in particular, offered excellent suggestions along with encouragement. And the more I wrote, the more I felt compelled to write. In a few months I went ahead and hired my editor and my book designer.At Ruth’s suggestion I attended a writer’s workshop where I met a hybrid publisher who agreed to take my book. I would have to pay him for publishing it, but he offered the lure of distribution rights provided I paid him in advance for doing his own story edit. All well and good, except that he wanted to cut huge portions of the script, something I could not agree to. I stuck to my guns and he finally gave in on that issue, and he did improve the overall architecture of the story and offer some snappier chapter titles. Best of all, he gave the book its present title and added the word “sassy” to the original subtitle.This ingenious publisher and I parted ways when his distribution contract failed to meet with my lawyer’s approval. As I was leaving the lawyer’s office, I showed him the sample cover my book designer, Jan Westendorp, had produced. He looked at it and grinned. “Why don’t you take it to a regular publisher?” he asked. “I bet it would sell.” “Oh, that would take years,” I said, “and I haven’t got years”. What happened next is an interesting little story in itself, but I did take his advice. I called Ronsdale Press, our local publisher here in Point Grey and, to my amazement, within three weeks I was on my way to becoming a published author.Of course, the work didn’t end there. The hardest part came after we signed the contract and I set about fixing “the few little things” my new publisher wanted fixed. That took months, and many exchanges. He won some and I won some. He won more than I did, but thanks to his excellent judgement I’ve ended up with a book we’re both happy with.Currently I’m enjoying the marketing. The hard work is done and now comes the fun. Never expected to have so much of it at this time in my life!Was the final title your first title for your book? Share previous options here!My original title read: How I Helped Win the War for the Allies (or did I?),subtitled One Canadian’s Military MemoriesMy second title was the present,  How I Won the War for the Allies paired with the original subtitle. Next we altered the subtitle, interposing the word “sassy” before “Canadian’s”. Finally the subtitle became the current: “One Sassy Canadian Soldier’s Story”.The final choice of title and subtitle is intended to express the mood of the cover picture and the book in general, sending the message, “This is going to be a fun book!”　What was your first job? Was it anything close to writing?I presume you mean “first regular paid job,” and not the few weeks spent raspberry picking or two years volunteering at the Ubyssey newspaper, although the latter experience involved a great deal of writing, and some of Pierre Berton’s instructions remain firmly established in memory to this day. Example: “Never use an adjective if you can find a verb to do the work.”My first regular paid job, as an office worker in the Army, had absolutely nothing to do with writing and even less to do with intellect.Was there something from the first draft of your book that got left out of the final book?My original draft included an episode that might have offended my one remaining army buddy, had I let it appear in the book:Our first evening in Dublin, Jeanne and I dined in a pleasant little restaurant a few blocks from our newly discovered bed and breakfast lodging. As described in my book we gobbled down a feast such as we had not enjoyed since leaving Canada. After finishing off enormous plates of lamb chops, mashed potatoes and gravy and green beans, followed by equally generous portions of real ice cream and tasty little cakes, we sat there drinking tea, almost too stuffed to move. I admired the silver tea service, the teapot, cream and sugar servers each carrying the engraving “The Broadway” and underneath, “Dublin.” “Wouldn’t that set make a great souvenir?” I asked, laughing.Jeanne glared at me. “Be quiet!” she hissed. “Don’t talk like that.” I was nonplussed and a little embarrassed. I’d been speaking quietly and anyway she should have known I was joking. However, after we were a couple of blocks from the restaurant, I discovered why she had reacted so strangely. She stopped suddenly, turned to me and pulled out of her jacket pocket a red cloth table napkin, unrolling it to reveal a knife, fork and spoon each engraved just as the silver tea service had been. Many years later, she sent me the fork.When we are young and foolish and far from home, we sometimes do things we’d never do in later years. I’d be willing to bet that in civilian life Jeanne has never taken the tiniest “souvenir” to which she was not entitled. But I wonder what would have happened to us in Eire had she been caught. In that neutral country, lacking proper papers, we could have landed in an internment camp. My book might have had quite a different ending!When was the first time you were on an airplane? Where were you going?It happened unexpectedly. I had boarded the train in Vancouver, bound for Saskatoon, to which my husband had been transferred a few months earlier. The train was to leave an hour before midnight, but I did what many people did in those days, got on early, asked for my berth to be made up, and by ten o’clock was sound asleep. To my surprise and disappointment, I awoke at seven in the morning to stillness and silence. We had not left Vancouver.It was mid June, 1948. The mighty Fraser River had overflowed its banks, flooding farm land in the broad valley and washing out roads and railroad tracks. I would have to take a plane. The Trans Canada Airways prop plane left Vancouver airport early the next day. Despite the railway shut-down, the plane was only two thirds full. Even when full, it would hardly have held more than fifty passengers. The stewardess, as we called the flight attendant in those days, spent a lot of time chatting with me, acting more like a travel guide, pointing out various features of the land below. I looked down at toy farmhouses and barns surrounded by water, acres and acres of devastation. Then came the jagged peaks of the Rockies, so sharp and close as to be almost frightening, the foothills of Alberta, and the patchwork quilt of prairie dotted with grain elevators and sloughs. I enjoyed the flight, and many a flight after that, until recent years when flying became just a means of “getting there” rather than a joy in itself.What is the first book you remember reading?Other than the boring school primers, the first book I remember reading was The Cuckoo Clock by Mary Louise Molesworth, first published in 1877. I still have my copy, acquired for my seventh birthday. It looks a little the worse for wear, indicating much reading and re-reading. I had even coloured one or two of the picture sketches. Only the cover picture was already in colour, portraying Griselda, the little heroine, and the cuckoo clock whose inhabitant became her friend. Myself a lonely child like Griselda, I could identify with her. She and her cuckoo became treasured friends.

The Publisher 

Ronsdale Press publishes in a wide variety of genres. Of particular interest are non-fiction titles, including biography, history, and social ideas. Ronsdale is also known for its series of Holocaust memoirs.In fiction, Ronsdale has published books by established authors such as Jack Hodgins and Hubert Aquin (in an English translation), as well as emerging authors such as Sheila James, and Susan Dobbie. Ronsdale’s poets come from across Canada; they include Pam Calabrese MacLean from the Maritimes and Daphne Marlatt from the West Coast. Ronsdale’s young adult titles are regularly nominated for prizes.Why do you feel it’s important to publish works by new authors?If we did not publish new authors then when all the established authors died, we would have no writing. Tell/show us the first cover concept for the book and how it differs from the final look.This book started out with the author thinking she would self publish a few copies for her family, but as the book progressed it became clear to her friends that she had a very good and important story to tell about the Canadian Women’s Army Corps (CWAC). Her editor brought it to us to see if we felt it had commercial potential. We immediately saw the book’s value and worked with the author to polish it up for commercial publication.When did you first know you were going to publish this book?As soon as we saw the manuscript.  It was already showing signs of great promise.