I've been slowly reading through Sarah Emma Edmonds' Nurse and Spy in the Union Army (1864). She was a Canadian immigrant who disguised herself as a man to serve in the Union army during the American Civil War. One passage of her book reminded me of those TG stories where someone is transformed into a woman either in order to evade military service, or as a punishment because they are unwilling to serve, such as The Professor's "Draft Dodger Rag" and many others:

Said he: “The women down South are the best recruiting officers—for they absolutely refuse to tolerate, or admit to their society, any young man who refuses to enlist; and very often send their lovers, who have not enlisted, skirts and crinoline, with a note attached, suggesting the appropriateness of such a costume unless they donned the Confederate uniform at once.”

I have often thought of this trait of the Southern ladies' character, and contrasted it with the flattering receptions so lavishly bestowed upon our able-bodied “home guards,” by the New-England fair ones who profess to love the old flag and despise its enemies. And I have wondered if an extensive donation of “crinoline” would not be more effectual in filling up our ranks, than graceful bows and bewitching smiles. And I would mildly suggest that each package of crinoline be accompanied by the following appropriate lines:

Now, while our soldiers are fighting our battles,
Each at his post to do all that he can,
Down among rebels and contraband chattels,
What are you doing, my sweet little man?

All the brave boys under canvas are sleeping,
All of them pressing to march with the van,
Far from their homes where their sweethearts are weeping;
What are you waiting for, sweet little man?

You, with the terrible warlike mustaches,
Fit for a colonel or chief of a clan,
You with the waist made for sword-belts and sashes,
Where are your shoulder-straps, sweet little man?

We send you the buttonless garments of woman!
Cover your face lest it freckle or tan;
Muster the apron-string guards on the common—
That is the corps for the sweet little man.

All the fair maidens about him shall cluster,
Pluck the white feathers from bonnet and fan,
Make him a plume like a turkey-wing duster—
That is the crest for the sweet little man.

Give him for escort a file of young misses,
Each of them armed with a deadly rattan,
They shall defend him from laughter and hisses
Aimed by low boys at the sweet little man.

Edmonds rarely cites authors for the poetry she includes in her book; that may mean that all the uncited poetry was her own, but I'm not sure. People had different ideas about credit and plagiarism in those days.

A lot of the details in her book are doubted or disputed by historians and biographers -- some think it's mostly made up and that she never served as a spy at all, only as a field nurse. I linked her Wikipedia article above, but I recommend also reading the talk page for that article as well, as there's a lot of discussion there about the contrary evidence that isn't yet addressed in the main article.

Whether it's a memoir, a historical novel, or some weird mix of the two, it's a fun read and I recommend it.