[Off Topic] In the 1971 draft lottery, my birthday drew the number 25, so it was a foregone conclusion that I would be drafted. I had just started college, and I was ticked. Even my parents were mad; my mother had just about gone out of her mind with anxiety when my brother was in Viet Nam ('69-'70), my father was scheduled for heart bypass surgery (a brand new and relatively unknown procedure back then) and they were still struggling to care for my disabled younger brother. Both of my parents had been anti-war for some time, but they were only just beginning to openly admit it and talk about it. Since 1967, I had made my feelings about the Viet Nam war very clear. My older brother was also skeptical about the war, but facing imminent induction, he had enlisted. He felt that he had no choice. My father, a WWII vet, said many times that it just wasn't right that I should be drafted; they had already sent one son over there for that foolish war, and one was enough.
In due time I received my re-classification to 1-A (available for induction), which is normally a sign that a letter containing an order to report to the nearest induction center would be arriving at any time, but no such letter arrived. I tried to concentrate on my studies while fielding dozens of calls and piles of mailings from recruiters. I just didn't know what else to do. After the school year ended, I spent the summer of 1972 on pins and needles. I was so convinced that I would be getting that letter any day that I didn't even bother to look for a summer job. September rolled around and I went back to school. In November, I voted for the very first time. In January, the peace treaty was announced, which was quickly followed by announcements of troop withdrawals. Gradually, the threat of imminent induction diminished, but I remained classified as 1-A right up until the Selective Service System was shut down. I never did receive a notice to report, nor did I ever receive a reclassification of my status.
MarkII