Vietnam War Draft Lottery

Robert, Illinois, 1969. No. 235: Random Number Formula

I received my draft notice while I was a Sophomore at Southern Illinois University in Carbondale, Il. I got a deferment for one year with a letter from the Dean of Students. When my year ended, I was informed that I had to go without further discussion directly into Viet Nam via the draft. But good old President Nixon was discussing the Lottery and I got an additional 7 months' deferment. I was in the first draft and got a glorious number of 235 and did not go.

Ten years later I was employed as IT personnel with the draft (Selective Service) at Great Lakes, Il on Greenbay and Buckley Road. I was on the team that created a formula to select a random number with no duplication within the first 1000 numbers. I'm a basic draft dodger who ended up working with the draft. I'm from the class of 1965 in Waukegan, Illinois.

Tim, North Carolina. Well-Educated Reserves

My story is perhaps a little different, as I was a USMC Reserve Recruiter for central NC 1965 thru 1967. I enlisted in the Marines in 1963, pre-Vietnam, and re-enlisted in 1965 when Johnson extended all of us when he landed the Marines at Da Nang. I put in for Japan, but the USMC, in its infinite wisdom, sent me to Raleigh.

When I first got to the Reserve Center, I was told to join up as many reserves as space would allow. It wasn't very hard. There was no lottery at the time, but pressure was building over the draft per se. I talked to those I knew, as well as many others coming in to beat the draft. Quickly had my quota filled with a number of college type folks, who for one reason or other were losing their deferment, and we knew the lottery was coming.

I became the voice of USMC Reserves, and had my greatest sucess with college campuses. Going to night school at UNC, I did a sociology paper that showed the Reserve unit probably had the greatest educational level of any unit in the military. I took all comers until my quota was filled, but even though I advertised on radio, it was primarily the college types that came in. Coaches liked to red shirt their players for the six month reserve, as well.

The USMC was good to me, gave me a year early-out, and let me attend Duke on active duty for my last six months; had to wear the uniform one day/week on active duty, and not terribly popular on campus in 1967/68. Oh well. I snatched a number of folks from the draft board, which wasn't exactly pleased with me either. In 1967 my draft board sent me a letter of induction, so I showed up in uniform.

Steve, Virginia, 1969. No. 005: Winning The Pool

The draft stories rang a bell for me. As Pi Kap social chairman in December 1969, I had the bright idea for us to put up $10 apiece to watch the lottery in the tube room. Half the money bought a keg of beer and the other half was designated for the low number. Who won? Me! I had No. 5 (October 18) and my roomie John W had cushy No. 350, wasted because he was in ROTC.

I ended up jumping out of planes as an airbourne rigger in the Army Reserves. But I had the luck to avoid Vietnam, even though 3 of the 5 units like mine went there.

Dave, California, 1969. No. 028: Halftime Show

Steve, Maryland, 1970, No. 43: High Arches

Number 43! THAT was terrible news. And I was stunned. What would I do?

At the time I was an anti-Vietnam War organizer, a protestor who had been jailed. I had a strong commitment which since then, thankfully, has never wavered, even though I live in Washington, DC, city of Kerry, McCain, Reed, et. al., where Vietnam service is, more than ever, elevated to heroic status.

No. 43! I planned to get married; I had no plan for the draft. But I had luck. Called quickly for a physical, I failed. Maybe it was the year; so many Americans were opposed to the War, maybe even active duty personnel in the induction centers, I hoped. Only a handful of guys on my bus passed. The rest of us flunked ... for hearing loss (rock and roll), for allergies, and, in my case, for having high arches. I could hardly believe it. "Are the tops of your feet always red like that? Do boots hurt?" "Uh, yes." And soon came the IV-F. Saved from going to Saigon or Toronto.

Instead I went to the inner city to teach. A different kind of service. And I am still married, 40 years later.

Berg, NC, 1969. No. 197: Minesweeping No, Teaching Yes.

I was sitting pretty in March 1969. Had a full scholarship offer to Oceanographic School at FSU after I finished at Duke. My planned marriage in June would give me a draft deferment. Then the bottom fell out: no more marriage deferments, or grad school either.

My dad pulled strings, got me into Navy OCS while finishing up at Duke. Got an official letter to appear for a swearing-in ceremony at the local recruiting office. Drove the Greek's MG to the recruiting center on my "last day as a civvie" in April, 1969. Expected to be assigned to some kind of oceanographic vessel. Then the Navy guy says "uh, let's see, you'll be on a minesweeper in.." I excused myself, ran outside, and drove back to the White House (on Green Street) as fast as I could. A week later my dad calls and says "you did what?"

Next went to the Air Force recruiting center, took lots of tests, got accepted, qualified as a navigator (bad eyes). They said they would send my file back to Waukegan.

Graduated, went home, got married, went on honeymoon in June 1969. On return, called the local Air Force office, who said "file, what file?" The file was never found and it was too late to start over (or maybe no spots left in the Air Force OTS). So I went back to work in dad's store awaiting the draft, expecting to hear in August.

A friend stopped by one day and asked "whatcha doin bout dat draft?" "Waiting," I said, since there was no more marriage deferment and it was too late to have a kid. "Why not teach?" he asked--a badly needed profession, qualifies for deferment. So off I go, no teaching credentials whatever, and landed a job at a second interview in a farm town, Antioch. When I explained my situation, they simply asked that I stay two years. The scholarship to FSU had been lost by then anyway since I couldn't enroll without being drafted.

I was actually having fun teaching (another story) when they announced there would be a lottery. My brother (8 years younger and would never be drafted) and I listen on the radio. His birthday is 352, yeah! I'm 197, rats! By October 1970 the local board says they are around No. 185. By November 1970 I'm sweating like a pig but holding my teaching deferment. The draft board lets me know that if I drop my deferment for the last month of the year, and if my number isn't called, I'm free.

Sweating it out, what do I do? By December 1970 they are at 195. So I go for it, and in December they call..no numbers at all! I'm free to make plans to start grad school in the fall of 1971. Finished teaching in June 1971, got scholarship back...and the rest is history.

Parks, NC, 1969. No. 70: Three Year Sabbatical

In my senior year at Duke I drew No. 70. So I chose to join the NC National Guard (6 year enlistment). I was told to be ready to go to basic training in January, 1970.

Duke would not refund tuition for this voluntary obligation that took me out of school, so I withdrew for the Spring Semester, which subsequently became a pass/fail semester because of the "riots". Then I did not get called up til mid-June 1970, so I could have stayed in school and graduated. Came back for fall semester, 2 weeks late however, did not pass 2 courses and "flunked out". Subsequently came back to school after a 3 year sabbatical and got my degree.

Steve, Colorado, 1969. No. 154: The Difference In Two Wars

I was born in 1948 and I recall being subject to the first draft lottery. For me, however, it was not relevant. I had previously received a IV-F classification (unfit for service) from the Omaha draft board based on a letter from my doctor. I had and have asthma. It has never been much of a problem, but it is one of those chronic diseases the Department of Defense doesn't like. Friends of mine with bad eyes, bad knees, bleeding ulcers, etc. all got drafted and passed draft physicals. I never took the physical. During WWII, the IV-F classification was a cause for shame. During the Vietnam war, it was most coveted. This fact says a lot to me.

I did sit in the Gothic Dining Hall at Duke University the day of the lottery reading. Early in the process, my classmates screamed or broke down in tears hearing their birthdays read out. It was horrible and sobering. These young men's lives were changed forever.

Bill, Pennsylvania, 1969. No. 77: What A Bummer

Senior year at Duke, for some reason the local TV stations weren't going to broadcast the lottery from the start. So we listened live on the Duke radio station for the first 30 minutes, until TV coverage started. They got to about No. 65 by then. I was feeling kinda OK because the projection was they'd draft up to approximately No. 150 that year.

So I had to pull out another beer, hit the head, gab with some guys down the hall, before settling in front of the TV. By then they were at about No. 85, and it was getting better for me.....or so I thought. They eventually went to commercial and when they came back, they ran through a summary of what happened right from the start. Much to my utter dispair, I found out my birthday had been selected while I was working my way to the TV: No. 77! What a "bummer" as we used to say.

So I wound up enlisting in the Navy as an officer (got Supply Corp), went to Vietnam, was extremely lucky, and actually only spent 2 years total in the military (1 year at OCS & Supply Corps School, then 1 year in Mekong Delta & Saigon). I was LUCKY!

Bob, Virginia, 1969. No. 004: Aftershock

I grew up as a military brat. At the height of the Vietnam war my dad was Surgeon for the 5th Air Force, based at Fuchu Air Station just outside of Tokyo. He was responsible for all AF hospitals along the Pacific rim: Okinawa (then still under U.S.occupation), the Philippines, South Korea, Japan, etc., but not Indochina or Thailand. Years later he told me he had nightmares about meeting incoming medevac planes from Vietnam and seeing either me or my older brother Ed on one of the litters. (We both served twice in Vietnam, but Ed received multiple Purple Hearts and a Silver Star as a Marine Sgt. and later Lt.--no one ever confused me with a hero). That had never occurred to me. I suspect in some ways the war was more stressful on him than on either of us.

I went to Indiana U. in August 1963, before the war was serious. I don't think I had even heard of "Vietnam" at the time, and I know my atlas identified it instead as part of French Indochina. Indiana was a land-grant college which in those days meant that every male had to take two years of ROTC. I didn't think much of it, but signed up for Air Force ROTC (out of respect for Dad, I suspect) and figured I'd probably do four years and then the minimum active duty as a JAG lawyer.

To my shock, when the time came to start the advanced program (final two years), the AF decided I was medically unfit. I had a history of asthma and a couple of old high school football injuries (dislocated right shoulder and left knee--I wasn't any good but I had a lot of enthusiasm).

At the time Dad was Deputy Surgeon for the SAC in Omaha, and he assured me he would have some doctors look me over and get the decision reversed. That summer they checked me out and said I was fine, but the AF still turned me down. So I lied about my medical problems and joined the Army ROTC. Although I had a law school deferment (based on paperwork I filled out before the war really got started), I told them I wanted to serve first and I volunteered for Vietnam.

In 1969, I was an infantry recon platoon leader at Schofield Barracks, Hawaii, and didn't really follow the news very much. I had 0600 reveille formations six days a week and spent a lot of time in the field. I was also a newlywed and I don't think we even owned a TV.

After I had been in Vietnam a number of months, someone told me they were selling hot dogs at the USO (which I didn't even know was there). I found my way to the USO, and on the table was a copy of US News, probably very old, and the cover story was about the draft lottery. Without much thought I opened it up, and when I looked up February 14 my heart almost stopped--it was No. 4! In some ways it made no sense to be alarmed--I was already in the Army and in Vietnam--but it still shocked me!