I can distinctly remember thinking about, and discussing with friends of my age, that in a mere 3 or 4 years, the war would still be grinding on (because it had been for the duration of our memories) and we would have to register without the benefit of the vaunted college deferment (which none of us actually considered anyway...because duh..money)....and every night on the news, the dead, and the grim numbers game.
True story. When my Dad was maybe seventeen he broke his ankle playing softball. Has a steel pin in it to this day. Couple of years later he has to report to the draft board, and fails because of said pin. An Army surgeon pulls him aside and says "We could operate and take it out. If it goes wrong, you won't walk on that leg again. If it goes right, you can go to Vietnam. Or you can walk out of here as you are." Dad passed on that trip to Indochina.
I can remember being in the record of my AIT unit at Ft. Knox watching the Lottery. Every kid of draft age was glued to that broadcast. What today's generation can't fathom is how the Draft was so crucial to men between 18-25. You could plan no long range future until your draft status was solidified.Already in the meat grinder, you can imagine my feeling of sardonicism when my birthday came up 343.To this day, I don't win at any drawings, including the raffles at the golf scrambles.
In spite of being "69" in the first lottery, I managed to avoid conscription. I wrote a couple of letters, the gist of "draft me and I'll resist in a very public manner". I didn't report for my physical, and never heard from them for over a year. I then got a letter saying my year of eligibility had passed. To this day I'm unsure whether I won from audacity or sheer luck.
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