I could tell by the look on their faces.

I was a Junior at UNC-Charlotte struggling with my grades the day after the 1969 draft lottery.  I, like every other male student there, had tracked the lottery and knew my number.

I had a French lab that afternoon in a tiered classroom.  My seat was near the top of the tier where I could see most of the other students there.  I remember sitting in my seat before class started and looking around the room.  Although I didn’t know many of the other students there I could tell with certainty by the expressions on the guys’ faces which ones had low lottery numbers and which had high numbers. No words were necessary; their faces said it all.  With my lottery number of 262 I was on top of the world but felt for those who had that ominous look.