Oh, those drafty days...

 

 

 

"In the day, it was a letter all young men dreaded to receive..."

 

"Greetings". That is how a letter from the Draft Board would start out. When you received a letter with the Selective Service emblem or address on it, it was seldom good news. It could change the trajectory of your life in an instant. Worrying about the draft was something most young men did when I was growing up. You were either conscripted into the service, enlisted in a service you preferred prior to being conscripted, or you took your chances. You had to hope for a high draft number or a flunked physical.

 

January 27, 1973 was a huge day in the lives of many young men. It was the day the draft ended. The Viet Nam War was winding down, and getting ready to go into the "L" column for the United States. It was not a happy experience for anyone. For those who fought there, for those who served during the conflict, and our society in general. It was a textbook example of a war fought wrong by politicians.

 

After I graduated from high school, I went to the brand new North Hennepin Junior College. It was just starting it's second year of existence. I signed up for enough credits to obtain a "2S" student deferment from the Draft Board. The school year was 1967-1968, and Viet Nam was going full tilt.

 

The junior college I attended was located in the old Osseo High School (long since torn down). I really did not care for it at all. It truly was just like 13th grade. Quite a few of my buddies had gone to St. Cloud State College and really enjoyed it. I made up my mind that right after "13th grade" was over, I would transfer up there.

 

Besides having to deal with the Draft Board in those days, there was also a problem with credit acceptance and transfer between the junior college system, the state college system, and the university system. When I got up to St. Cloud in the fall of 1968, I found out about 1/3 of my credits did not transfer. That put me below what the Draft Board considered a fulltime student. A couple weeks after I started my fall classes, I received a notification from the Draft Board that I was reclassified "1A". In other words, ready to draft.

 

Young men living my dormitory were starting to drop like flies. They would fall below full time student status, get reclassified, and then the draft notice would come. Then they would be gone. Just like that. Once I received my "1A", the handwriting was on the wall. I was living on borrowed time. I knew if I waited too long, my future would be decided by someone other than myself. I went downtown to the St. Cloud Federal Building and enlisted in the United States Navy. I was eligible for a six month delay program, so I was able to stay in school and did not enter the Navy until April of 1969.

 

After boot camp while in service school in Pensacola, the draft changed. It was decided by someone in Washington, a better system would be a lottery. Every young man who was draft eligible would have their birthday dates put in a big hopper. Then, just like a lottery for money, the dates would be pulled out at random. Guys I was stationed with who found out they had numbers in the 300's, groaned in agony. My number was 10. They were going to get me one way or another.

 

Today, some on Capitol Hill have bounced around the idea of bringing back the draft. I think that would be a bad idea. The all volunteer force has just worked fine, thank you. The numbers needed are always there. Our forces are comprised of people who want to be there. They are of the highest quality and very motivated.

 

So as far as I am concerned, the draft can stay in the scrap heap of history. We tried it, and it did not work well. People my age however, will never forget it. It was the albatross that hung around our necks. It was the anvil that hung over our heads. It affected just about everything for everyone until you were old enough to be out of it's crosshairs. Good riddance draft - please don't ever come back!