I was an announcer on WRUF, the campus radio AM station at the University of Florida the night the first draft lottery was held.   We broadcast the drawing live.  The station didn’t play music that would appeal to college students, but I’m pretty sure we had a lot of 18-21 year old males listening that night.  My number was 23, but I was in advanced Army ROTC, so I already knew I was going into the military after graduation, probably to Viet Nam.
When I enrolled in advanced Army ROTC in my junior year, I was sent Jacksonville for a physical.  The doctor stamped my papers "Not Qualified For Combat Arms" because of my eyesight.  That was significant because it meant that I wouldn’t have to serve in the infantry, armor or artillery branches, but could serve in the signal corps, adjutant general’s corps, supply corps, etc.  Also, the deal was, at graduation, I would pick three branches of my preference (one of which would have had to be a combat branch if I hadn’t had that eyesight exclusion) and, based on my ranking in the class and the needs of the Army, I would be assigned to one of the three.
Two years later, the war had heated up quite a bit.  When it came time for me to choose a branch just prior to graduation, I wrote down three non-combat branches.  The sergeant reviewing the paperwork said, "You didn’t write down any combat branches."  I said, "If you’ll look at my physical paperwork, you’ll see that it’s stamped that I’m not qualified for combat arms because of my eyesight."  He marked a big X through the stamp and said, "Oh, they’ve changed all that.  And, by the way, you have to make two of the three choices combat branches, not one."
So, I went Viet Nam as an artillery forward observer in the 25th Infantry Division.  Remember the bad eyesight?  Turns out it didn’t matter much because most of the artillery fire I adjusted was done by sound.  My hearing was fine.  A month later, I was sent to the 101st Airborne when the 25th went back to Hawaii.  I hadn’t been in-country long enough to go with them.  However, I have a broadcasting degree and, from the first day I got to Viet Nam, I started calling AFVN Radio & TV headquarters to try to get a transfer.  I called every time I got out of the field.  I even hitched a ride on a C-130 and went to Saigon to meet the Captain in charge of personnel for the stations.  It eventually worked, and I spent the last half of my tour as the Overnight News Officer for the entire network.  Instead of sleeping on a cot at base camp or on the ground in the jungle, showering with water that ran out of a 55-gallon drum or taking no shower at all, and crapping in an outhouse or a hole in the ground, I shared a room in an old French hotel near the presidential palace with two Navy officers, slept in a real bed, showered in a real shower and used a toilet that had a pull chain.  I thought I was in Heaven.