I remember being at my fraternity house on the UCLA campus as we brothers gathered for the numbers to be given out. Some of my closest friends got very low numbers ranging from 18 to 108. I turned out to be one of the last brothers called at #325, which corresponded to my Jan. 10 birthday. The irony is that not one of those low-numbered brothers ever went into service. They either hired draft attorneys or physicians and one way or the other avoided the draft. For me, it was a very big relief to know that I could, just by the luck of the draw, continue in my studies and partying leading to law school, without the added baggage of anxiety and funding of avoiding the Viet Nam War.