I was born in 1958. No one ever asked me about my status with Selective Service. I wonder why your friend was asked. When I first went to college, draft registration wasn’t in effect, and being a college student (with loans and grants and all that) is about the only circumstance I can imagine it would be relevant.
I was in the second lottery, and drew an 11, and would have indeed been screwed if Nixon hadn’t ended the draft before my 2S ran out.
Only 38% of draftees actually served in the Vietnam theatre, and only 25% of the total forces in Vietnam were draftees. And about 39% of all active duty GIs, both enlisted and drafted, served in S.E. Asia. So, common belief to the contrary, whether you were drafted or enlisted didn’t really make much of a difference regarding your chances of going over there.
I was born in 1948 and graduated in May 1970 and thus was subject to the 1970 draft lottery - fortunately for me I ended up with 335 so I was safe.
This is really wierd and coincidental but there is an example problem in the book Excel 2010 Data Analysis and Business Modeling covering this very subject in the chapter on “Summarizing Data by Using Descriptive Statistics”. The problem reads as follows:
*In 1970 and 1971, eligibility for the U.S. armed services draft was determined on the basis of a draft lottery number. The number was determined by birth date. A total of 366 balls, one for each possible birth date, were placed in a container and shaken. The first ball selected was given the number 1 in the lottery, and so on. Men whose birthdays corresponded to the lowest numbers were drafted first. The file **Draftlottery.xlsx *contains the actual results of the 1970 and 1971 drawings. Use descriptive statistics to demonstrate that the 1970 draft lottery was not random and the 1971 lottery was random (Hint: Use the AVERAGE and MEDIAN functions to compute the mean and median lottery number for each month.)
I have not done the analsis indicated, but what if the 1970 lottery was not a random drawing?
I was born 6/30/49 and so was sweating it out during the first lottery
of 12/1/69. I think they said beforehand that those with numbers
over 185 were unlikely to be called up. Anyway, I recall being quite
relieved with my 209.
In that first loettery the number-bearing capsules were inadequately
mixed, resulting in a statistically significant much greater chance of
drawing a low number for birth dates later in the year:
I guess the Australian draft was done differently. Doug Walters, an emerging cricketer, was drafted. Yet, in his book he said he would go to the mess for a beer for his birthday and no one else would be having a birthday. Strange given that his birth date was supposed to have been selected.
Normie Rowe, an emerging pop star was also drafted his experience was the same.
Seems they were selected to show the population that all were doing their duty.
It wasn’t toward the end. I had a 2-S deferment from 1965 to 1967. However, if you majored in the liberal arts (except for education), there was still a possibility you could lose your deferment. I think that’s what happened in my case. Also, if you opted for ROTC, you could put off service until after graduation. I was due to get out after my first hitch in 1971, as I knew I would be heading for a battalion depoying back to RVN. I ended up enrolling in an officer ‘bootstrap’ program, and by the time I tanked out of that in 1974, the war was over. HUGE sigh of relief for me.
Oh neat. My father was of draft age in 1970 (and never got drafted). I look at my birthdate and his and they turn out to be right next to each other in the lottery list (both north of #250).
That was one of the problems with the Vietnam war. It was a “war of attrition”. In other words, we had more bodies to throw at them than they had to throw at us. We’d win just by outlasting them. Ever see that Star Trek episode about a war going on for centuries because the bombs were theoretical? The casualties were mathematically calculated by computer and the “victims” were ordered to report to disintegration stations. But at least the infrastructure remained intact. And people dutifully did it. In America, the age of adulthood was 21, but kids were being drafted at 18. Not to fight, but to die. Bodies. The draft was a death sentence.
Why? Why not actually fight, if the cause was just? Because it wasn’t just some war in Vietnam. It was a world war. Whether WWII never really ended, as some describe it, or it had evolved into WWIII, just not the science fiction vision of it, there were other players, deadly world destructive players. Yes, there were the Soviets, every bit as prideful and arrogant as the Americans. And the Chinese, who had a billion people to throw into the conflict. Talk about a war of attrition! So, the East was afraid of the West, and the West was afraid of the East, and neither wanted the world to end in a nuclear holocaust. So they held proxy wars in little 3rd world countries.
Whether you believe in war or don’t believe in war, whether you believe the cause is just or unjust, whatever you may feel about a Draft, I just CAN’T accept it as being a numbers calculation to send our youngest adults to their deaths. And that’s what was so sickening about it in 1970 while watching that lottery. When will YOUR number be up? Bwahahahaha…
And now we’re making the same mistake over and over again, in Afghanistan, in Iraq, in Libya, in every stinking little hellhole where we’re “keeping the peace” instead of declaring a stand and to hell with what everyone else thinks. Only this time, there’s no draft. Just a body count.
361, right near the very end.
If I’d been eligible in 1970, I was going to go: my number was 069! But probably not for the draft for the year I was born (1975): 313. The drawing held that December would likely have gotten me again: 007.
My dad drew 262 in 1971. He volunteered for the Air Force because he was concerned about his number coming up. Highest called that year? 125.
Not to diss your dad, but the people I knew who drew anything close to that number in the 1971 lottery were dancing for joy. Hope the Air Force taught him some math. 
Eep. Glad I’m not American. Or anywhere near old enough. Although my terrible eyesight might have saved me.
- What does that mean?
Huh, it seems that all these years I’ve been wrong about the draft. I turned 18 in July 1973, so I assumed that the spring '73 lottery would apply to me – but according to that table, it would have been the '74 lottery.
Anyway, in '72, my number was 365, which made me think that, with my luck, I’d get number 001 the next year. In fact, I got 082 – but it didn’t matter anyway, since 1972 was the last year they called people up.
My number in the 1969 drawing (i.e., for 1970) was 172 – so I would have been called up.
It was 172 again the next year (but they were only taking up through 125).
The lottery was not determined by any formula. It was truly a lottery drawing, by random element. As each birthdate was drawn, it was assigned the next number to be filled.
It applied to people who would turn 19 in that year. So the 1970 drawing would apply to 1971 (since it had to be in advance of Jan 1, 1971), and would apply only to those who turned 19 in 1971.
So, if you weren’t called in 1971, you were done and over with. For 1972, a new lottery would have been held, the birthdate numbers would be all different, and since you would now turn 20, it no longer applied to you.
I turned 19 in 1971. My lottery number for 1971 was 336. Whew! Safe! I didn’t have to worry about 1972 because I’d be 20. So, what did I do? I enlisted. But at least I wasn’t body count for the Army. I could pick my branch, make my deals, pick the specialty I was interested in for technical training, and even have some preference of duty stations. Oh, yeah, and it paid for my college when I got out, which turned out to be just an extension of the training I’d already gotten in the military. Oh, and it helped buy my first home. Didn’t pay for it, but guaranteed the mortgage with 0% down.
071 for me.
102
Guess i would have been going full-on Apocalypse Now. 
098, but luckily the Army wasn’t desperate enough to draft 7-year-olds.
I do recall having to go to the local post office to register when I turned 18. Less than a year later there was noise about re-instating the draft to get the USSR out of Afghanistan. Didn’t happen of course, but it was a weird and uneasy feeling. Probably nothing like being that age in the Vietnam era though.
That’s overstating things quite a bit, isn’t it? After all, not all draftees went to Vietnam. The ones that did didn’t all go into combat. And even if you went into combat there was less than a 4% chance of being killed in action, according to my quick math.
Now, I don’t want to minimize the implications of that 4% - but it’s a far cry from a death sentence.