I was among the fortunate sons who received a draft deferral or exemption simply because I was able to attend college. That privileged status continued through medical school and into residency.

Nonetheless, on that fateful (for some) night, we crowded in to watch the draft drawing, glued to the blotchy color TV in the basement of Grace Pearson Scholarship Hall.
The guys with low numbers took it well – either they thought it wouldn’t intrude into their career plans, or didn’t want to seem unmanly amidst the hoots of derision and sympathy from their fellows. My number was somewhere in the middle.
Years later, just as the Viet Nam War was entering its final months, and the draft no longer being executed, I successfully applied for Conscientious Objector status. I could’ve done that earlier, had there been any likelihood of being drafted, but for me it was a statement of principle that could no longer be undermined by charges I was just fabricating a philosophy to avoid personal inconvenience.
Postscript:  I served my medical career as a Commissioned Officer in the USPHS, Indian Health Service, retiring as an 06.  I made my philosophy and intentions clear when I was recruited.  I even rewrote the mandatory Loyalty Oath before I signed it, and they acquiesced!  Because my "KSA’s" were sufficiently unique, it was a seller’s market.  I was given a de facto exemption from the usual military silliness, doo-dads, funny hats, and gold braid.  I never wore – nor owned – a uniform.
There’s more than one way to resist the draft.  First, you gotta be lucky.