Today I learned that my dad's draft lottery day was one of the first numbers called for Vietnam. As it turns out he was the first in his dorm to have his birthday called. Had he been born a day later he would have had the last number.
My dad had to get a physical and he ended up joining the National Guard instead of potentially going to training and then being shipped off to Vietnam.
My dad was in the artillery unit of the National Guard. He would translate the field soldiers coordinates for where to shoot something to the angle and trajectory of the artillery gun used.
I like reading stories like this.
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