Like so many young men in the late 1960’s and early 70’s, I found myself with a 1A classification in the draft. When the first draft lottery was drawn, my birthday came up number 23. Growing up on Coastal Maryland, I had always been around the water, although had not spent that much time on boats, enough to know that I would rather rock and roll than sleep in a tent. My Dad knew a couple of people, as did I who had gone into the Coast Guard and really enjoyed their duty. Hoping to find myself on small boats possibly in Ocean City, Maryland or Chincoteague, Virginia, I went into the recruiter’s office. I was immediately informed that there was a long wait to get into the Coast Guard, so being between semesters at college, I went to enroll for the spring semester. A couple of days later, my mother called to let me know that someone had backed out and decided not to go into the Coast Guard and that I could go in the next week.