I could never recall my SSN without looking it up until I turned 65, but my draft number in the lottery is one I have never forgotten. July 6th, No. 327.
Even though I had no trouble maintaining my grades, that announcement removed
all pressure from the selective service. I was not a conscientious objector
or anti-war protester, but I was reluctant to fight in a war that had no
objective to win. Plus, I had good friends who were drafted and when they
came home they were messed up–drugs, alcohol, and psychological problems.
Not for me.
I do remember that night was a Monday because we suspended
our
fraternity chapter meeting to listen to the draft. At supper
that
night we all contributed to a pot. The man with the lowest number
won.
The guys that drew the lowest number all went out and joined
the
National Guard. I remember waiting to hear my number called
then
heading down to Allen Field House to watch the end of a basketball game.
After that a night of celebration, at which bar I do not remember.
America
was saved that night, because I would have been a horrible
soldier.