Edwin Sved was born in February 1924 in New York, New York and grew up through difficult times in a caring family. He attended public schools and was a high school senior on 7 December 1941, at home studying and listening to the radio, when Mel Allen interrupted the Giants football game to announce that the Japanese had bombed Pearl Harbor [Annotator's Note: the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, Hawaii on 7 December 1941]. He immediately decided to enlist, and packed his things; but his parents said he was too young and wouldn't sign his papers. He started college, and persuaded his parents to agree to his joining a government program that allowed students to finish college before being called to arms. Once he was accepted, he immediately quit going to classes, and the Army notified him to report to Camp Upton on Long Island, New York. He was sent to the replacement center at Camp Croft, South Carolina for basic infantry training. Afterward, he went to Biloxi, Mississippi for his initiation into the Air Corps. The place was hot, humid, and rough for young men who had no idea what they faced. But, Sved said, they were all concerned about our country, and interested in doing their share. Aviation technology was new and interesting, and Sved really enjoyed navigation school, but admitted that he was not a good soldier, and didn't like the military aspects of training. Nevertheless he earned his wings and was sent to Drew Field in Tampa, Florida, where his crew was assembled. It was a "wonderful" group of guys that got along well.

When his crew got to Italy, Edwin Sved said they lived in tents in a farm field, and flew out of a makeshift airstrip constructed of metal strips laid out in the mud. When the mud got very thick, crashes happened. Sved's first couple of flights seemed easy, because they met little resistance. Later, he recalled, their aircraft "got shot up a fair amount." To him, combat was "thrilling." Over the course of his career, his crew lost two men, a tail gunner and a waist gunner. The second fatality happened on his last mission. Most memorable was the 24 March 1945 mass raid on Berlin [Annotator's Note: Berlin, Germany]. They met the first big flak [Annotator's Note: antiaircraft artillery fire] barrage over the Czech Republic, the lead plane went down, and Sved's aircraft had to take over. Only three planes completed the bombing run, and Sved's was the only plane that returned to base that day. He explained that once a run starts, there is no alternative but to proceed. After a point, the pilot no longer has control; the bombardier takes over and is fixed on a bombsite. Usually, enemy fighters didn't risk flying into the intense flak, so the bombers didn't have to contend with that, but when the antiaircraft fire starts, the plane bounces all over, and some of the shots get close, and some hit. Once the bombs are away, they try to get out, and have to avoid tangling with other groups. As a navigator, Sved had to keep track of where the plane was at all times; if his plane had to take over as lead, or if he found himself on his own, he had to plot the route home. Sved goes on to describe his equipment and vantage point inside the plane, and how B-17s [Annotator's Note: Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress heavy bomber] lined up, took off, and got into formation.

Of all the ground crew personnel, Edwin Sved recalled only one with whom his crew got close. He told the tale of a plane in the squadron [Annotator's Note: 773rd Bombardment Squadron, 463rd Bombardment Group, 15th Air Force] that had made 99 missions, and the crew chief begged that the plane be fixed so it could make its 100th flight. It was done, the brass assembled, and the crew boarded, but a new copilot "goofed a little" on the pre-flight check, and hit the switch for the landing gear. The plane just "sat down" on the runway, and never flew again. The story was written up in the "Stars and Stripes" newsletter. The airmen who served together became part of a family, and Sved recalled it was difficult to go back to quarters when colleagues were lost on a mission. Their belongings were gathered and turned in, and everyone suffered. Debriefings occurred after every flight, and were comprehensive. The airmen knew what was going on in the war, and were very interested because it had a bearing on all of them. He said they had concerns about what they were hitting below, but he felt that most of what was being bombed were military targets. Sved said things improved greatly when the bombers got P-51 [Annotator's Note: North American P-51 Mustang fighter aircraft] escort coverage; unfortunately it was when the war was winding down. He praised the efforts of the Tuskegee airmen [Annotator's Note: African-Americaqn airmen of the 332nd Fighter Group]. He cited an occasion over the Adriatic [Annotator's Note: Adriatic Sea] when there were two German fighters coming up on their badly damaged plane, and the "Redtails" [Annotator's Note: nickname for the 332nd Fighter Group] came to their rescue. He said sometimes the only good part of a mission was getting back to base and, during debriefing, being issued a double shot of booze.

Life on base was "awful" according to Edwin Sved. The men lived in tents set up in the mud and took cold showers, but they had enough food. They shared the airbase with South Africans who did the night bombing. He said, "They were a wild bunch," and used to come into the American officers' club, until they burnt the place down. As his crew approached their 25 mission quota, Sved had a personal dilemma, because he had more missions than the rest of his crew. There was a running joke about whether he would stay until the rest of the airmen caught up or go home; luckily the war ended and eliminated the problem. After VE-Day [Annotator's Note: Victory in Europe Day, 8 May 1945], the crew thought they would be sent back to the United States for B-29 [Annotator's Note: Boeing B-29 Superfortress very heavy bomber] training, and go to the east, but their base was moved to Naples, Italy, and they started ferrying troops to Rabat, Morocco. Sved found it interesting that infantry soldiers that had been through "all kinds of combat" were "petrified" about flying. But then, when Sved saw the new enemy jet aircraft, he was amazed; he couldn't imagine anything moving that fast, and still be maneuverable. At the end of 1945 he finally got offered a chance to fly one of the "war-weary" ships back to the States. His crew had been disassembled, except for the officers. The remaining members along with some passengers, 20 navigators that Sved wouldn't allow near the controls, flew the long, southern route to Brazil and then home. When Sved reached the United States, what was left of his crew disbanded at Morrison Field in West Palm Beach, Florida. He thought it was "wonderful," to be warmly welcomed back, and to call his family. He took advantage of the G.I. Bill, and thought it was one of the most rewarding things the country did for him. He doesn't think he could have finished college and dental school without it.

As a kid, Edwin Sved was interested in model airplanes and flying. He remembers how overwhelming it was to see the new B-17s [Annotator's Note: Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress heavy bomber] for the first time. The plane was massive and noisy and flights in it were always cold. But it was an amazing airplane, and could take a lot of punishment. He commented that there was always a rivalry between the 8th Air Force and the 15th Air Force; the 8th Air Force got all the glory, but deserved it. He thinks it is important that everybody learn about World War 2, and particularly what Americans did in response to the war. He believes that all young people should dedicate a certain amount of time to the country, be it military or otherwise. He feels that taking and not giving is "not right." It was a lesson the war taught the people of his generation; even those who weren't serving did their share. Sved goes on to describe how he suffered from what is now known as post traumatic stress, and said it is not over yet. He feels that The National WWII Museum [Annotator's Note: in New Orleans, Louisiana] is "amazing," and compares it to the other military museums and monuments he has visited. His message to future Americans is to remember what we have in America, and that it is worth defending.

Edwin Sved’s wife mentions that they met and married in Philadelphia [Annotator's Note: Philadelphia, Pennsylvania], and eventually retired to live on a sailboat in Florida. In 1988, they renewed a friendship with a couple they had known during the war, and many of the men's war memories became the topic of their couples' conversations. It was not until then that Mrs. Sved first heard about what the war was like for Sved and his pilot; he had never discussed it. Sved joins her in describing the warm relationship the four enjoyed. On a couple of occasions, the four Floridians also got together with the crew's copilot and his wife in Washington State and in Florida. Asked if revisiting their memories was in any way therapeutic, Sved said he thought too much time had gone by for there to be any healing through recounting their adventures and escapes, but the discussions were interesting for all of them.