Vietnam War Draft Lottery

Benjamin, TN, 1969. No. 96: Six Generations

I grew up in Maysville KY, son of a family practice physician, who graduated from UK in 1942 and went to UL Medical School through the US Army in a three year program with only 2 weeks vacation each summer. My Dad had told my brother and me that we would serve (it was not an option) in the Armed Forces as our family had done for four generations prior to him, dating back to the American Revolution. We never questioned our father about our obligation to our country. My great grandfather, who was a poor Mountain boy, became a Confederate soldier who, for the purpose of accuracy, had no connection with slave owners and was fighting for independence just like his grandfather had against the British. This is important for the casual reader to to understand real Kentucky history.

My older brother, who was in ROTC, told me about ROTC scholarships when I began my senior year in high school; therefore, I applied since I was a good student and had already planned to take ROTC. I was fortunate enough to receive one of 450 nationwide 4 year deals, and I gladly accepted. I signed my contract as a 17 year old, and I had to graduate in 4 years, and earn a commission, or become an enlisted man for 6 byears. It helped to keep me focused.

I vividly recall sitting at the Kappa Sigma house in December 1969, drinking with my frathernity brothers as we listened (watched?) the draft lottery that night. My birthday, December 16th, was drawn with number 96 and it reiterated the fact that I controlled my own destiny. My brother went to law school and finished in 1970 when he also entered active duty. I graduated in 1970, went on active duty in August 1970, served 20.5 years during which I was sent to Syracuse University for an MBA, and I retired as a LTC in late 1990 just before my 42nd birthday. I have continued to work and still do today. I have had a wonderful life which was enriched by my military service. I am a proud Kentuckian who has not lived there since I went on acitve duty in August of 1970. I visit often and love the Wildcats football and basketball.

Ken, Kentucky, 1969. No. 036: Loss of Appetite

I had been 'drafted' a year earlier in 1968 as I completed my senior year of college. I had gotten married that summer, and was immediately 'greeted' for a chance at exotic travel and adventure (in Vietnam). My new wife started graduate school, and I worked while waiting for the orders to appear. Those orders came to report to the induction center around 6 or 7 in the morning on an early, cold and wet December day.

We were taken to an Army hospital for the pre-induction physical. One of the first activities was for all of the draftees to line up and count off by fours. I was a three. The Fours were asked to step forward, welcomed to the United States Marine Corp, and given a pass to proceed directly to San Diego for an intense training session before being forwarded on to Vietnam.

During my senior year in college I had fallen prey to mononucleosis, been hospitalized for a week, and kept on strict medical orders for my last semester. Prior to reporting in that year later, I had secured on my nursing Mother's recommendation, a blood test which was taken and read by another registered nurse. I presented that 4 week old test to the examining doctors, and they in turn advised me to go have updated tests performed by a doctor, and that they would be in touch with me in two weeks to return.

Thanks to my Father's wisdom and advice, I went ahead and had the tests performed, but also applied to begin graduate school. The worst case, he said, was that you would just have to pull out of school. The next thing I heard was months later when the results of the lottery were announced and I was a number 36, as I recall. I was back in the process again, although I had secured a fair portion of my Masters Degree in the interim.

I found my appetite waning. I had always been tall and slim. I confess that I assisted in the waning appetite over a period of a few weeks. As I again reported in for the physical, I was advised to step aside after I was measured and weighed. I was then told that i was two pounds below the weight restrictions that applied for my height. I returned to my studies, but also remained subject to recall. Once more I was recalled, and again had a decrease in my appetite, clearing the mark by one pound only. Had the re-tested me before I left the hospital, I would have passed the test since they provided a lunch shortly after I had been weighed.

That was the last that I heard. My best friend, who became a Marine, assured me that I had not missed a thing that I needed to go back for. In the meantime, I became a new Father, and never felt compelled to look back.

Steve, Kentucky, 1969. No. 199: Obligation In My Blood

To me, this is an interesting project. I either never knew or had long forgotten my lottery number. Maybe I should have paid more attention to the lottery, given that I apparently escaped the draft by the skin of my teeth.

As an engineering student at the University of Kentucky from a poor county, my attention was directed toward my studies (and young ladies on campus). The way out of the poor county to a better future was through civilian education.

I was classified I-A most of my college years and had to get the obligatory physical exam, but I did not get drafted and did not join. Although I was anti-war (who wasn't?), I knew I would serve if drafted. My father and uncles had served in WW II and the obligation, should it arise, was in my blood. I knew a few who died and know many who served in Vietnam and, thus, I am not sorry I missed the fracas.

Oddly enough, once I got into the corporate world, I spent a lot of time in southeast Asia and have long been married to a lady from the region. I am glad I did not serve and develop a dislike for the region, because now I love the area.

(Ed.'s note: The highest number called to service from the 1969 lottery was 195).

Mike, Ohio, 1969. No. 289: One Hard Course

I was a student at the University of Kentucky when the draft occurred. My best friend, Dick Hitt, got the lottery number 2. He went right out and enlisted in the Air Force. He spent 6 months at Lackland Airforce base in Texas, and 3 and one-half years in Hawaii. No one was luckier than Dick!!! He did tell me that every month in Hawaii they would tell him he was going to Nam but he never did.

I was a student at the University of Kentucky. I was married and had twin girls. When the draft occurred, I lost my exemption and was 1-A. My number was 289 and I was getting close to that draft number when the war ended.

I began college in the fall of 1966 and we were told that the courses were harder than normal because they wanted to "weed-out" the guys who were there only for the student exemption. After the lottery, my grades went up and things were normal again on campus.

There was one exception. My sophmore year, I had a calculus professor who walked with a limp. He had been wounded in vietnam and had no love for those who were avoiding the draft. That was one hard course to get through.

John, Ohio, 1969. No. 72: No Regrets

I recall sitting around with my fraternity brothers listening to the balls being drawn in December 1969. It seems like a distant memory. My number came up quite early although it was not the first one drawn within my peer group.

It was a strange time for me. I had always been fascinated by the military. My father was a merchant seaman during the Second World War and I envisioned spending time in the military at some point. I was enrolled in Air Force ROTC during my freshman and sophomore years -- but elected not to proceed into the advanced program due to the 4 year active duty commitment required of graduates. Later, I applied for a commission in the Navy -- but got no response until a few months after graduation -- and just after having gotten married. I declined the commission and my draft status went from student deferment II-S to I-A almost overnight.

I ended up volunteering for the service, hoping to join on my terms rather than the Army's (right!!!). After basic and advanced training, I spent 18 months in Panama then returned home where I joined the reserves as a Specialist 4th Class. In 2005, I retired from the Army Reserve with 27 "good years" as a Chief Warrant Officer with multiple reserve postings to Japan and Bosnia. To this day, I wonder how my life might have differed had I completed my ROTC studies or accepted the Naval commission. But I have no regrets.

Patrick, Delaware, 1969. No. 355: Deep Wound

My story is much like many draft age men in December 1969. I was a 5th year Architectural Senior, recently married, and living in an off-campus non-UK apartment on North Main Street in Lexington. Since architecture was a five year program, I needed a clarification sent to my local draft board from UK so they didn't think I was sand-bagging the system by not finishing in the four years allowed in a student deferment. I was not in favor of the Vietnam war and the way the politicians were waging it, so I felt that putting off the draft as long as possible was in my best personal interest. I had three close friends from high school who were sent to Vietnam in 1969. One didn't return, one almost defected to Canada, and one loved the experience of war. To make matters worse, staying out of the military was NOT an option for me as my father was not only a veteran but the head of the draft board in my home county of Boyd.

The night of the draft lottery my wife picked me up from Pence Hall and we headed home to listen to the lottery on the radio. At the time of this life-changing event for millions of young men there was no internet, no CNN, no "breaking news", but yet a great interest among the UK male student population--many of us had been tallking about the lottery all week.

By the time we arrived home and found the station they were already on No. 33. OK, so we had missed the first 32 dates. We crossed our fingers (and legs and toes and eyes) and listened intently to the dates...hoping against hope they would not call my birthdate. We went through No. 50, then No. 100 then 200 then 300 then 350 without hearing my birthdate. We looked at each other with only 15 more numbers to go, and 32 at the beginning we hadn't heard...the outlook was grim.

As we resigned ourselves to listen all the way to the end of the numbers, they called January 27 at No. 355, just 10 from the end. We jumped for joy, screamed and hugged each other...it was a marvelous day, at least for us. It was almost a certainty that No. 355 would not be called into service. That meant we could actually start to plan our lives and not have to put the future on hold for two years while I served in the Army, or four years in the Air Force or Navy. There was little need for a graduate but unlicensed architect in any of the services, so my education would have had little value to them as a non-com.

After it had sunk in we decided to go back to campus to see how our friends had made out. We went to the Two Keys where we found two distinct groups of students: those who drew numbers under 100, and those over 300. In both groups we knew our fate for the draft and for Vietnam. Some in the low-number group talked of finishing the semester and then enlisting, to have their time in service start (and end) as soon as possible, and to have some money from the G.I. Bill to fund the remainder of college. Some of the low numbers started to think about heading to Canada or trying to join the Air Force. Those of us with high numbers began to feel guilty about our good fortune and bought beers for the other group. The evening started raucously with bravado and loud announcements of numbers, but ended with a somber tone as it all started to sink in.

I still thank God for not "winning" this lottery. My life turned out quite well with two wonderful children, a successful architectural career, a deep love for our country and respect for the brave men who served in Vietnam. I am so very proud that a young achitectural student, Maya Lin, submitted the chosen design for the Vietnam memorial on the mall in Washington. It is so respectful and appropriate for this military engagement. Lin's design concept was to create a breach in the earth to symbolize the gravity of the loss of 58,000 soldiers, and the deep wound inflicted on the nation. The "wall" has one leg pointing toward the Lincoln memorial, and one leg pointing toward the Washington Monument. This design was at first controversial, as it did not fit the mold of a traditional war memorial, but then Vietnam did not fit the mold of a traditional war. I have visited the memorial many times--alone, with my WW II veteran father, with my children, with my wife, with friends and business associates. I have been reduced to tears when finding two names I knew well. I will continue to go back and say a prayer for those who gave the ultimate sacrifice.

Doug, California, 1969. No. 024: Still Wondering

I enlisted in the Navy the summer of 1968 following high school graduation. I didn't go to boot camp until January 1969 and was stationed at Naval Air Station, Key West, Fla when the draft lottery was held.

I felt relieved I was in the Navy and not a grunt in Vietnam as would have surely been the case with my low lottery number. I still wonder to this day if I were a Vietnam Vet, instead of a Vietnam Era Vet, how my life would have changed both physically and emotionally.

David, Kentucky, 1969. No. 50: Late Eligibility

I had a student deferment up until May 1970, when I failed the the pre-induction physical due to an ear infection. I was retested in November and passed.

I got my I-A classification in December 1970 after the December call had already been issued. President Nixon extended the eligibility for those who had gotten a late reclassification in 1970, and thus I was drafted into the army in February 1971.

Vic, Ohio, 1969. No. 250: Interesting Years

I entered college at UK as a freshman in 1966. I was in the ROTC program, which meant I had a I-A draft classification--no student deferral. When the lottery drawing took place my number was 250. My draft board said they would probably not go over 115. As soon as the lottery happened, everyone I knew with a low number was trying to get into a reserve unit or the National Guard. I withdrew from ROTC after spring semester and took my name off the reserve list (mainly to open a space for someone else). I remained classified I-A until I was 24 years old but was never called because of my lottery number. Finally I was re-classified I-H (no longer available for processing).

The Kent State riots occurred in the spring of my senior year. Protestors burned the Air Force ROTC building on the UK campus. The Army reserve, National Guard and state police took over the campus and finals were cancelled. I remember the student phone book came out with a picture of a Guardsman dragging a hippie down the street, and the cannon in front of one of the administration buildings was turned around and a smoke bomb set off. Those were interesting years. I had friends who went to Woodstock and friends who died in Vietnam. I can remember marching around the campus with the airbourne rangers and having food thrown at us by hippies.

I graduated and went on to graduate school and got married in Lexington. My wife taught school at Tate's Creek and I worked for the Dept. of Agriculture. We moved back to Ohio in 1973 and I started my own business.

I still know quite a few vets. Some are fine, others not so much. It was a shame the way that war went down and that so many young Americans were lost or damaged by it. Today's wars are so much different but many of the results are still the same.

Robert Neil, England, 1972. No. 358: Seasonal Singalong

Although I have already written a story dated 12 December 2009 about "jumping for joy" I have composed lyrics about celebrating exemption from conscription for the Vietnam War by luck of the draw to the tune of a Christmas Carol called "Joy To The World" below.

Joy for myself, exemption has come,
By way of luck of draw.
I am so full of joy tonight,
Because I am exempt from war.
Repeat the jump for joy.
Repeat the jump for joy.
Repeat, repeat that jump for joy!