In 1951, at the age of 22, I didn't have a draft card. I hadn't registered for the draft because I didn't think I had to. I'd had polio at the age of two, and as a result, I walked with the aid of a leg brace and a pair of aluminum forearm crutches. Obviously IV-F. But I was informed by a friend that it was the law, no exceptions, and I'd better get my rear down to the draft board and register. So I did.

No penalty. They accepted my misunderstanding with a very mild reprimand. But I did have to report for a pre-induction physical. I've written a pretty funny piece (entitled "At War with the Army") on what happened during the physical and some of the tricks a couple of army doctors tried to see if I was faking. Pretty hilarious (but true), but too long to post here and would constitute severe thread drift. A few weeks later, I got my draft card. IV-F, as I was sure it would be, but at least now, I was legally IV-F.

But some years later, I was called back for an interview, had to fill out what amounted to a job a résumé, and was reclassified as I-Y, which means "draftable in time of national emergency."

I figure that was probably okay, because if a nuclear holocaust broke out, I would probably be in some concrete bunker 300 feet underground, pounding a typewriter. .  .  .

Fun times!

Don Firth