KEMAL SAIED, born November 22,1919, in Healdton, Oklahoma. Attended Classen High School, Oklahoma City; and University of Oklahoma. Enlisted in the Army Air Corps in August, 1941. After attaining the rank of Staff Sergeant in 1942, he applied for Aviation Cadet training and graduated with Class 43-J at Luke Field, Arizona.

Saied was sent to flight instructor's school at Randolph Field, Texas, then to Minter Field, California, to instruct in Basic Training. After five months instructing in BT-13s he requested combat duty in P-47s and was assigned to the 508th Fighter Squadron of the 404th Fighter Group at St. Trond, Belgium.

The 404th FG's principal assignments were support for the ground forces in Belgium and Germany, distinguishing itself with the Presidential Unit Citation, and being honored by being awarded the Belgique Fouregerre by the Belgian government. Saied had accumulated 62 missions when the hostilities ceased in Europe, during which he was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross, the Purple Heart and Air Medal with seven clusters.

Number 7 J-U, my P-47D, proved more than once that it was a tough bird. It was such an occasion during the Battle of the Bulge that I renewed my love for Number 7 J-U. Capt. Elton B. Long was leading the 508th Fighter Squadron of the 404th Fighter Group and I was flying element leader for his flight. The primary target that day was a tower setting atop a dam which held back the waters of a reservoir deep in Germany. The tower was being used as an observation post and was apparently very important to the Allies.

When we arrived at our destination we could see barrage balloons tethered by their steel cables over the target just daring us to go beneath them. We followed the leader to drop our bombs on the target being careful not to get lower than the balloons. After one bomb run and three strafing passes, the ack-ack was so light that we fell into game-playing to see if we could deflate some balloons. They were apparently self-sealing and filled with non-explosive gas, but we were having fun.

Elton could see that precious fuel was being wasted on this nonsense, so he called his squadron to rendezvous and head back to the barn. With each pass I made, I felt confident that the next one would be the one which would set the world on fire. I didn't want to believe what I already knew: that the balloons were filled with a non-inflammable gas and would not blow up. When Elton called for a rendezvous I called back, "Elton, let me make one last pass! I think I can get one!"

While the squadron was rendezvousing I was circling for my one last pass and was on my run when my plane suddenly shuddered and started into a snap roll, and I had to fight to keep it from spiraling into the ground. Looking at the left wing I found that it had got a direct hit underneath, knocking open the ammunition door which was located on the top of the wing and hinged from the back. The wind finished ripping it all the way off, leaving a gaping hole with three belts of fifty caliber shells trailing out of it.

Luckily, my control cables were not severed, but the airspeed and rate-of-climb indicators were knocked out. After trimming the plane as much as I could I managed to limp back on my wing man's wing.

All's well that ends well, they say, but many is the time since that day that I hear my own words ringing in my ears, "Let me make one last pass!" It could have been.

My love affair with the P-47 began long before this date but the events of this day confirmed my belief that the P-47 Thunderbolt, the "Jug," is the toughest airplane built