The night of the first lottery I began watching it at the Beta House at Wisconsin with several of the guys. The atmosphere was too tense, so I walked over to the Library and began studying in the second floor reading room. About an hour later, my girlfriend June came running in shouting "You’re 163, you’re 163!", disrupting everyone in the room. We immediately proceeded to The Pub which, although it was a Monday night, was jammed and riotous. As each guy entered, his lottery number was written on his forehead with a black marker. Everyone got utterly hammered. Later June was able to get my mind off my possible fate by doing a little drafting of her own, if you know what I mean. But I digress. Anyway, the draft went to 195 that year with the biggest draft pool of the war. I figured that when my II-S ended in 1971, my 163 would land me in Viet Nam. As it turned out, they only went to 125 in 1971, and after December 31, 1971, I became no longer draftable (unless the Russians attacked). I did go for two draft physicals in Milwaukee during my college days. Unbelievable. My local draft board thought the Army during wartime would be a good place for me. Thanks for letting me reminisce about a subject I haven’t revisited in quite a while. I haven’t thought much about June either for quite some time. Probably should have hung onto her. I was a spendthrift with women in those days.
