It was a little bit of the first 3 above though sadly I missed the GI Bill which really sucked.
I was Navy, Electrician Mate on the USS Ranger, CV-61. Oddly a few other dopers were also on my boat. I didn’t like it but I am glad I did it. If they didn’t screw with me right from the get go I may have made a career of it.
Dad paid $xxxx.xx for me to go to college and start medical school. I had to pay him back that amount. When I would give him $100.00, he would write me out a receipt and tell me “You now owe me $xxxx.xx -$100.00.” And he would remind me (frequently) at other times how much money I still owed him.
I’m in my first semester of medical school (with money loaned to me by dad), and I find out that I can apply for a military scholarship that will pay tuition, fees, books, and money for living expenses, with a 1 year medical school = 1 year military service commitment. What a deal! I applied and got accepted to the Air Force Health Professions Scholarship Program.
So I’m back at home for a weekend, and, this topic comes up. . . at breakfast.
Dad: Why are you doing this military scholarship? Why don’t you just borrow the money from me? By the way, you owe me $xxxx.xx.
Me: The Air Force won’t tell me at breakfast how much money I owe them. (i.e. I know what my Air Force commitment is, and the Air Force knows what my commitment is, and we don’t need to remind each other about it as much as you need to remind me about how much money I owe you)
With my family dynamics, it was a very dangerous statement for me to make. Here is an example of a previous event.
I’m about to graduate from high school. Dad is sitting in his chair in the living room watching TV. I come into the living room and sit on the couch. New program comes on: “This program is for mature audiences only. Parental guidance is advised.”
Dad: “Go do your homework.”
Me(not thinking fast enough and responding to the statement):“I’ve finished my homework.”
Dad: sat in his chair about 10 seconds, then got up and started out of the living room and punched a hole in the wall and walked down the hall to his bedroom hitting the wall with his fist with every step he took.
Me(to self): “I think I’ll go sit in my room.” (you are really lucky that he didn’t hit you with his fist this time)
Oh thank you, that makes so much more sense now.
What kind of a poll is it if…“drafted”…is not an option to check ?
I dropped out of college after a year, and moved back in with my parents. I was working a shit job, and then my parents moved to IL to GA. After about two months of being unemployed in GA, my parents said, “Get a job, or get out,” and I basically said, “I’ll show you!” and enlisted.
Because the question is “why did you join”? If you’re drafted, you’re not joining, you’re being conscripted against your will.
Giving zombies mercy before they fully turn? 
I never went further than ROTC; turned Uncle Sugar down when I graduated and we parted on good terms. For me its just something we did since before my grandparents time on - serve a hitch or two in one army or another. I was just one of the first ones to come of age during a time of relative peace or at least a time of no active armed conflict. A few years earlier or a dozen or so later and I would have stayed but for the late 70s and now being US citizens? Not our collective bag.
This ↑↑↑ plus I wasn’t bound for college and the draft was on big time and it was 1961. The hand basket was in overdrive. 