Possibly. At the local VFW in my hometown, the townies had all gone to war (to New Guinea, an awful war), while the farm boys stayed home. The government told them to grow hemp for the navy, which became the ditchweed we smoked when desperate.
My dad grew up on ranch in eastern Montana, but was still drafted in 1942. He was first assigned to a tank destroyer battalion (World War I era 75 mm cannons mounted on half tracks). Luckily, he did well on some test and was transferred to the ASTP programbefore that battalion was shipped off to North Africa and mauled at the Battle of Kasserine Pass.
Later, Dad was lucky again that ASTP expelled him when he flunked trigonometry. He was reassigned to a heavy artillery battalion, and earned three battle stars on his European Theater campaign ribbon. His classmates who did better in ASTP, well, most of them ended up as infantry replacements when the army decided they needed riflemen more than they needed specialists.
While Dad’s artillery battalion did suffer casualties, his chances there were vastly better than they would have been as cannon fodder, shuffled into the line as needed.
After that experience, Dad always said it was better to be lucky than to be good.
British.
Mother’s Father was at University and no students were conscripted. Father’s Father was a steel worker in Sheffield, which was a protected job. Thus neither of my Grandfathers went to war. I believe I have a Great Uncle who fought but for various reasons I didn’t really know him.