For almost a whole generation of young Americans, the draft has been something for someone else to worry about. It provided the muscle for the U.S. in two World Wars and the Korean conflict, but in recent years its call has been gentle and muted. An average of hardly more than 100,000 men a year were called, only a small percentage of the total eligible to serve. Deferments, for school or for skill, were easy to get. American youngsters regarded the draft as either a remote threat or, at worst, a necessary chore that might produce a rewarding tour of duty overseas (where some 46% of all U.S. soldiers are now stationed) or enable them to acquire a skill that would later be useful in civilian life.
The escalation of the war in Viet Nam—and the likelihood that it will rise higher—has changed all that. Somewhat abruptly, the draft has become the most urgent problem in the lives of practically every American male between 18 and 26. With the manpower needs of the armed forces steadily increasing and the prospect of future calls running well above 30,000 a month, some thousands will soon be called to serve who might previously have postponed or entirely escaped military service. Across the U.S., young men are once more watching their local mailboxes anxiously for the nation's most unpopular piece of unsolicited mail, that elongated postcard with the blank space after "class" filled in "l-A."
What makes the message so chilling is that its receiver has a pretty good chance of ending up where the fighting is. For the first time since the Korean conflict, which most of the present generation knows only through TV documentaries or current history courses, a draftee may find himself in real danger of his life. At the beginning of 1965, when the U.S. had only 23,300 men in Viet Nam, less than 1% were draftees; today, draftees make up 20% of the nearly 200,000 men in Viet Nam, and the proportion is likely to go higher with rising troop commitments. The new inductee thus has a better than one-in-five chance of reaching the battlefield.
The Affluent Generation
The new demands of the draft have produced both apprehension and opposition among the nation's young men. For the first time, the draft is touching in a major way the post-World War II generation—the most affluent, the best-educated, the most articulate and rebellious group of potential draftees in U.S. history. In pre-World War II days, when the nation was still suffering the aftereffects of the Depression, there were fewer young men in college than now, fewer with jobs so good that it was a great sacrifice to leave them for the service. Today, many draftees are either giving up well-paying jobs or delaying the start of careers after college. They not only debate the notion of military service in terms of high principle but question its harsh infringement on what they have been told is their right to a good life.