Clive Caldwell, Air Ace

By Kristen Alexander

Clive Caldwell was officially attributed with more than 27 victories and became Australia's highest scoring fighter pilot in World War II. In addition, he became an Ace in both the Middle East and Pacific theatres—the only Australian pilot to attain this status. Kristen Alexander has had unrivalled access to Caldwell's personal papers as well as official and privately held records. She vividly brings to life Caldwell's aerial exploits and presents a man driven to carry out his duty. Originally considered an individualist, Caldwell became a fine fighter pilot and a dedicated leader, much loved by those he commanded. He did not wear the restrictions of the RAAF well and, despite his achievements, endured public inquiry over liquor trading and the so-called 'Morotai Mutiny'. Even so, he continued to be well-regarded and respected by the public.This well-researched biography is a celebration of Caldwell's military achievements. It details his rise from a green fighter pilot to Wing leader and includes striking details of his air battles. It also includes unprecedented discussion of the Barry Inquiry and Caldwell's court-martial.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Allen Unwin
• Release date: Jul 1, 2006
• ISBN: 9781741156850

Kristen Alexander

Kristen Alexander has been writing about Australian aviators since 2002. Published in Australia, the United Kingdom, and Japan, her works include Clive Caldwell Air Ace, Jack Davenport Beaufighter Leader, and Australia's Few and the Battle of Britain. Two of her books have been included on the RAAF Chief of Air Force's reading list. She is the 2021 winner of the Australian War Memorial's Bryan Gandevia Prize for Australian military-medical history. Her sixth book, Kriegies: The Australian Airmen of Stalag Luft III, is based on that award-winning PhD thesis.www.kristenalexander.com.auhttps://www.facebook.com/KristenAlexanderAuthorTwitter: Kristen Alexander @kristenauthor

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Clive Caldwell, Air Ace

Kristen Alexander

First published in 2006

Copyright © Kristen Alexander 2006

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.

Allen & Unwin

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Australia

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Web: www.allenandunwin.com

National Library of Australia

Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:

Alexander, Kristen, 1963–.

        Clive Caldwell, air ace.

Bibliography.

Includes index.

ISBN 978 1 74114 705 6

ISBN 1 74114 705 0

1. Caldwell, Clive. 2. Australia. Royal Australian Air Force—Biography. 3. Air pilots,Military—Australia— Biography. 4.World War, 1939–1945—Aerial operations, Australian. I. Title.

940.544994092

Maps on pages viii–x reproduced with permission from the Australian War Memorial

Index compiled by Russell Brookes

Set in 11.5/14 pt Bembo by Midland Typesetters, Australia.

Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For David

Contents

Acknowledgements

Prologue

General note

Introduction

1 The Budding Fighter Pilot

2 Shadow Shooting

3 Sweeps and Convoys

4 Operation Crusader

5 Shark Squadron

6 Interregnum

7 Darwin Defence

8 The Day the Planes ‘All Fell into the Sea’

9 Australia’s Highest Scoring Fighter Ace

10 Fighter Pilot, Manqué

11 Morotai

12 The Barry Inquiry

13 Court-martial and Beyond

Epilogue

Appendices

A: Highlights of Caldwell’s flying career

B: Air Board Order ‘N’ 548 of 1944

C: Group Captain Caldwell’s Request of 9 April 1945 for Termination of Commission

D : Particulars supplied by Group Captain Caldwell of his allegations on 13 April 1945

E: Terms of Reference under Air Force Regulations for the Barry Inquiry

F: Charge Sheet—24 December 1945

G: Award citations

H : Aircraft flown by or encountered by Caldwell during his flying career

Notes

Bibliography

Acknowledgements

I have been privileged to accept the assistance of many people. Without these, this biography would not have happened and it would have been a much poorer effort. I am grateful to those who shared their memories, and I appreciate the time they took to either write or speak with me: Bobby Gibbes,Ted Sly, Jim Grant,Archie Wilson, Stan Plowright, Milton Howard, Dick Hutchinson, Paul Tillery, Jack Sheridan, Bruce Read, Leo Dairos, Bob Neale, Max Brinsey, John Bailey, Adam Gillespie, Norman Mulcahy, David Robertson, Tom Lewis, Ross Cox, Frank Parsons, Geordie Kerr, Cedric Merz, Roy Pearce, Kevin Warburton, Murray Brown, John Burnett, Alex Henshaw, Allan Righetti, Geoff Sloman, Syd Taylor, Alan Stewart and Ken Fox. Of these, I would particularly like to express my deepest gratitude to Bobby Gibbes for providing me with access to his personal papers; to Jim Grant, who unstintingly provided background information on Darwin’s 1943 air war and welcome comments on an early draft of my ‘The Day the Planes All Fell Into the Sea’ chapter; and to Archie Wilson, who graciously responded to my many emailed questions and who read an early draft of the section relating to 250 Squadron.

Some people, unfortunately, will never know how much I valued their assistance and this is a particular sadness to me. Ross Williams, Peter Quinn, Laurie Hill, Fred Woodgate and August Graf von Kageneck were all ill when they shared their stories with me. Despite this, Peter and Laurie both made a point of contacting me shortly before they died, and I enjoyed lengthy correspondences with both Fred and August until their deaths. I fondly remember the day I spent with Ross and his wife Elizabeth—I enjoyed their hospitality and Ross’ reminiscences of Caldwell. Thank you and vale Ross, Peter, Laurie, Fred and August.

I also thank those family members who shared stories and records of their relatives. My thanks go to Frankie Whittle, Dorothy Hill,Alan James, Stephen Tatham, Rick Lindmark, David Freedman, Don Clark and Suzanne Falkiner. I am especially grateful to Roz Davies who chatted with me for many hours about her father, Doug Doyle, and her memories of the early business operations of Caldwell, her father and George Falkiner.

As a member of the Military Historical Society of Australia, I am privileged to know a group of people who willingly and untiringly assist researchers. I especially thank Col Simpson for planting the seed for this book and Brad Manera for helping it to take root; Ric Pelvin for his constructive criticism and for the loan of his unpublished paper on the First Tactical Air Force; Anthony Staunton for assistance in burying furphies and information on awards; and Jim Underwood and Graham Wilson for happily answering many questions over the years.

I have taken advantage of many publicly held records and I commend the services provided by, and the staff of, the Australian War Memorial’s private records, sound collection, art and heraldry sections and research room; the Northern Territory Archives Service; the National Library of Australia; the National Archives of Australia; the National Screen and Sound Archive; and the National Archives of the United Kingdom. I would also like to thank Peter Radtke of The Aviation Historical Society of the Northern Territory Inc., who personally provided me with access to the records of the Society and shared some of his memories of Clive Caldwell. In particular, I extend my thanks to current and former staff members of the Office of Air Force History: Janet Beck, Mollie Angel, David Wilson and Mike Nelmes.

I also thank the following who have provided me with access to records and other information: Alf Bell, honorary secretary of the 250 Squadron Association; Ray Hart, honorary secretary of the Spitfire Association; Rex Ruwoldt, honorary secretary of Darwin Defenders 1942–45 Inc.; Peter Ellis, JP, honorary secretary of the Albion Park RSL Sub-Branch; John Forestier and June Smith; Bob and Misako Piper; Buz Busby; Colin Burgess; Patrick Tillery; Paul Trickett; Arthur Cooper; Bill Baker of the Aviation Historical Society of Australia;Anne Stevens and Katharine Stuart of Trinity Grammar School; Ily Benedek of Sydney Grammar School; Peggy Kennedy of the Australia and New Zealand Banking Group Limited (ANZ); Mike Stowe of Accident-Reports.com; and Bill Douglass.

My sincere thanks go to those friends who happen to be experts in their particular fields of interest who gave me untold hours of their precious time by reading my manuscript through its many drafts. Thank you Jill Sheppard, Dave Gray, David Wilson, Peter Ilbery and Bob Livingstone for your attention to detail and for your critical approaches to my work. From Allen & Unwin, I thank Ian Bowring for his assistance and for taking a chance on a first-time author. In particular, I thank Colette Vella and Joanne Holliman for their thoughtful editorial assistance and Raf Rouco for his eagle-eyed typo spotting.

One person above all others paid me the honour of assisting me with my manuscript almost from the beginning. He unfailingly and patiently answered my queries, provided guidance, corrected the many typos (and tore out his hair as he saw yet again my abuse of some of the most basic grammatical rules), helped me bury the latest bone-of-a-furphy when I had finally finished chewing on it, supported and encouraged me through yet another crisis of confidence, and offered many, many sound suggestions. My profound thanks to Lex McAulay.

Without the support of Mrs Jean Caldwell I would not have written this book. From the first moment that I contacted her and told her of my desire to celebrate her husband’s military achievements, she offered me consideration and courtesy, assistance, support and insight into her husband’s mind. She also willingly shared her own memories and provided me with a long-term loan of her records and photographs. I thank Mrs Caldwell for her gracious assistance and for entrusting me with her husband’s story.

Finally, my husband David. There are not enough words (or word limit!) for me to truly express my gratitude for his love, support and good cooking over the past four years, and so, I dedicate this book to him. Thank you, my love.

The North-western area (including Darwin and Halmaheras). (Odgers, Air War Against Japan, 1957)

The Western Desert. (Herington, Air War Against Germany and Italy, 1954)

Prologue

In April 2002, my husband David and I were flipping through an Australian Book Auctions’ catalogue and came across an item that sparked our interest.The lot included letters and photographs relating to ‘Group Captain Clive Robertson Caldwell DSO, DFC and Bar, Polish Cross of Valour’. Caldwell was a fighter pilot who achieved the highest Australian score of aircraft destroyed in the Second World War. In addition, he became an ace in both the Middle East and Pacific theatres. Despite this, there had not been much written about him other than brief inclusions in general histories, the odd chapter here and there in books on fighter aces and some specialist journal articles.This collection seemed both interesting and important, so we bid for it, and were successful.

The letters were written by Caldwell to his friend Ernest Richardson Slade-Slade. Slade, as he was known, and Caldwell were friends long before the war and their friendship continued until Caldwell’s death. In these letters, Caldwell told of his experiences with 250 Squadron RAF. One letter, written in early July 1941, referred to a number of actions during which Caldwell obtained his first officially recognised victories. The other letter was written just after Christmas 1941, and it dealt with some of his experiences in the latter part of that year. The letters were fascinating, and the brief glimpses they offered of Caldwell’s career were tantalising. I knew then that I wanted to find out more about this man.

I am a member of the Military Historical Society of Australia. At that time I was ACT Branch Secretary and responsible for the speaking calendar. I decided to slot myself in and speak about Caldwell’s early experiences in north Africa. In July 2002, less than three months after obtaining the letters, I gave my first talk to the Society. It was well received, and afterwards Col Simpson, the ACT Branch President, suggested that ‘there’s a book there’. A seed was planted. The Society’s then Vice President, Brad Manera, then convinced me that I should present a paper on Caldwell at the Society’s 2002 Biennial Conference. I continued my research, reworked that initial paper, and in October 2002 I spoke again about Caldwell’s early experiences as a fighter pilot. That paper was later published in the Society’s journal—the first of my three papers on various aspects of Caldwell’s career published in Sabretache. Col’s seed had slowly taken root and was establishing itself. The more I read and heard about Caldwell, the more I wanted to learn about his contribution to the war effort, and the more I wanted to share my knowledge with others. I continued my research but now I had the goal of a biography in mind.

At one stage, Caldwell had thought about writing his own story and he jotted down some notes to that effect, including what looks like an opening paragraph:

. . . If it were possible, I would like to give a background to the story of my . . . months as a fighter pilot in the Middle East, but I realise that nothing I could say would give the readers who have never been in the desert, or never known the experience of killing and fighting, a true picture of the desert and the men I knew and served with.¹

He eventually abandoned this idea, stating, ‘I have refrained steadfastly from writing anything myself ’.² He continued to maintain this position and this is a great shame, as no one can tell a story quite like the owner of the story, and Caldwell did have the ability to do it justice. Flight Lieutenant W.D.G. Robertson, the editor of the RAAF magazine Wings, thought Caldwell commanded ‘an easy and very readable style’.³ Caldwell could also be extremely lyrical, and this is seen clearly in his 1942 RAF broadcast ‘The Desert is a Funny Place’.

Not only did Caldwell decide against writing his own story, but he actively resisted the idea of a biography—he rebuffed enquiries from publishers and authors alike. He told his friends and family categorically that he did not want one written. He offered only a few interviews to private researchers and he believed, for the main part, that many authors had set out to use him for personal gain. ‘Some authors don’t seem to care as long as they make the story sound all right according to their idea of it. It doesn’t matter whether in doing so they hang one up like a mouse by the tail or not!’⁴ With that in mind, I embarked on this biography with much trepidation. From the beginning, however, Caldwell’s widow, Mrs Jean Caldwell, offered me support and encouragement, as well as access to her memories, papers, photographs and her personal scrapbook, which records sixty years of her husband’s life through the eyes of the media. She also read through a number of drafts as well as my articles about her husband’s career. I am grateful for her assistance and ongoing interest in my work.

Much as I have enjoyed working on Caldwell’s biography, every now and then I would get nervous and lose confidence in my ability to complete it. Often it would become just too difficult. But after speaking with Caldwell’s long-time friend, Bobby Gibbes, one day, I became determined to bring my self-imposed task to fruition.

Bobby, himself a well-decorated former fighter ace, told me that he was at the RAAF Academy at Point Cook when the word came through that Caldwell had died. He went into the mess and spoke to a young Pilot Officer there and mentioned that ‘Killer’ Caldwell had just died. The young Pilot Officer responded,‘Who’s he?’ Bobby then spoke with some of the maintenance people and passed the news on to them as well. They did not know who Caldwell was either. Bobby had assumed that they’d all heard of Caldwell, and on that sad day it was a blow to him that they had not.⁵ Whenever I lost confidence or momentum, I recalled this story and it would give me the impetus to carry on, to ensure that Caldwell’s achievements and contribution to Australia’s air force history were recognised.

I submitted Bobby’s story to Spitfire News and the then editor, Bruce Read, published it. In that piece, I also mentioned my occasional difficulties in putting together this biography. Milton Howard, who had served under Caldwell at Darwin in 457 Squadron, read this and wrote encouragingly to me to let me know that he had learned from experience the wisdom of breaking ‘mammoth tasks into bite-sized chunks’. He told me that, as a punishment for some minor misdemeanour, he had been given the task of hand-rubbing all the camouflage paint off the wings and fuselage of Caldwell’s personal Spitfire—he had been told that it was to make the aircraft fly faster. Rather than feel disgruntled that he had been set a punishment, he felt so honoured and privileged to be working on Caldwell’s aircraft that he rubbed just a little bit at a time, to make the job last longer.⁶

Working on Caldwell’s biography has been an honour and a privilege. When I suffered the inevitable lapses of confidence, I would recall Bobby’s story and, like Milton, I have taken this task a little bit at a time. My aim has been to celebrate Caldwell’s military career, and I hope that those who read this will be as captivated by his character, personality and deeds as I am, and will come to appreciate Caldwell’s contribution to Australia’s war effort.

General note

During the course of this work, I have drawn on Caldwell’s letters, writings, speeches and interviews, as well as letters and interviews with those who knew him. In reproducing these, I have been guided by Dorothy Sheridan’s attitude to editing in her classic work, Wartime Women: An anthology of women’s wartime writing for Mass-Observation 1937–45. Mass-Observation was a pioneer social research organisation that recruited a team of observers and a panel of volunteer writers to study and record the everyday lives of ordinary people in Britain. Sheridan noted that much of the writing for Mass-Observation was done in difficult conditions, often in haste and without the opportunity to go over the text and correct mistakes. Acknowledging this, Sheridan corrected spelling and ‘improved’ some punctuation.

I consider that Caldwell’s letters, combat reports and notebook fall into Sheridan’s ‘difficult conditions’ category, and while interviews with Caldwell and others were not conducted in difficult circumstances, free-flowing speech generated by recollection often needs a little tidying up. And so, I have corrected and shaped, where appropriate, in the interests of easy reading. Like Sheridan, I have cut out repetition or digressions and, as is the usual practice, this is indicated by an ellipsis (three dots). My interpolations are represented by square brackets.

I have found a great deal of variation in the spelling of place names, so, for consistency, I have relied on the spelling in the Australian War Memorial’s Official History of the Second World War, Australia in the War of 1939–1945.

Notes on measurements

In keeping with Caldwell’s time, all weights and measurements are given in their imperial form.

Length

1 inch = 25.4 millimetres

1 foot = 12 inches = 304.8 millimetres

1 yard = 3 feet = 914.4 millimetres

1 mile = 5280 feet = 1.61 kilometres

Weight

1 pound = 16 ounces = 0.454 kilograms

1 ton = 2240 pounds (the metric tonne is virtually equal)

Volume

1 gallon = 4.546 litres

Speed

1 mile per hour = 1.61 kilometres per hour

Introduction

It resolves itself to this—use your head before your guns.Always attack. Always be aggressive and determined. Never relax that attitude. Be decisive and quick.¹

Clive Robertson Caldwell was a fighter pilot with both the Royal Air Force and Royal Australian Air Force. He was 6 feet 2¹ /2 inches tall, with dark complexion, dark hair and brown eyes. He has been described variously as a little like General de Gaulle, ‘tall as a young tree, and as lean and springy, hair black as a raven, broad square shoulders, clean-cut features, and a certain dignity, a certain assurance’;‘tall and lean of stature and strong limbed’; gigantic, and one of the strongest men in the RAAF; and ‘. . . tough and dark, with sharp aquiline features, flashing eyes and a stern but loquacious mouth’.²

Caldwell joined the first Australian Empire Air Training Scheme (EATS) course and was the first trainee from there to become a Flight Commander. He was the first to become a Squadron Commander and was also the first graduate to rise to the rank of Group Captain. And he was wholly Australian-trained. He was officially attributed with 27¹ /2 victories and became Australia’s highest scoring fighter ace during the Second World War. He was also the top scorer in North Africa and the leading P–40 ace. In addition, he became an ace in both the Middle East and Pacific theatres—the only Australian pilot to become a two theatre ace.

The term ‘ace’ was first introduced by the French during the First World War and it denoted a pilot who was credited with five or more victories in air-to-air combat. It became a term that was well understood in both France and the United States of America. The Royal Air Force, however, did not support the classification so it was not officially recognised and many British and Commonwealth pilots never fully understood the term. When Christopher Shores and Clive Williams were researching Aces High (1994) they found that a good number of pilots thought the term related only to those high scorers who had been feted by the press and who had become household names. Even those who had claimed seven or eight destroyed, for instance, did not consider themselves to be aces. When Robert Stanford-Tuck wrote his foreword to the original edition of Aces High he encapsulated the British attitude to the ace designation as something not quite sound; certainly not something to brag about. To him, the term ‘fighter ace’ always seemed ‘to conjure up the mental picture of some gay, abandoned, almost irresponsible young pilot leaping into his aircraft and tearing off into the sky to chalk up victories like knocking off glass bottles in the circus rifle range’. But Stanford-Tuck, himself a high-scoring ace, highlighted the falseness of this image of the fighter pilot. He stated that after a fighter pilot’s first combat, he was only too aware that ‘air fighting on the scale of the last war was a cold, calculating, cat and mouse type combat which required great preparation, lightning reactions, first-class team work and above all, cool decisive leadership’.³ Caldwell developed his own brand of ‘lightning reactions’ and ‘cool decisive leadership’ to become a successful fighter pilot and leader.

As well as successfully shooting down enemy aircraft, Caldwell believed that he could reasonably claim to have killed or wounded over one thousand men in the air and on the ground during his first year as a fighter pilot. He believed that this high tally was worth it, if it meant disrupting enemy forces for a week or even a few days.⁴ With his score quickly mounting, he acquired the sobriquet ‘Killer’, which appeared to aptly sum up his activities.

There are a number of versions of how Caldwell’s nickname originated. According to Bob Whittle, who flew with Caldwell in 250 Squadron, RAF, he and Caldwell had intercepted a group of German Junkers Ju 87 Sturzkampfflugzeug (Stuka) dive-bombers returning from a raid. Caldwell flew alongside an aircraft he had set on fire and called out, ‘Burn, you bastard’. This was heard over the radio and Caldwell’s nom de guerre was born. Archie Wilson, also a 250 Squadron pilot, recalls that the nickname became well and truly entrenched as a result of Caldwell’s diligent ground strafing.⁵ Caldwell, however, had a different version of the origin of his nickname. In 1958, he claimed that he acquired his nickname:

because I advocated shooting [them] in the parachutes and ground strafing . . . Yes, I did a lot of strafing. It was war. Our job was to win and we had to do as much damage to the enemy as possible. I considered it necessary to shoot them in the parachutes, but there was no blood lust or anything about it like that. It was just a matter of not wanting them back to have another go at us. I never shot any who landed where they could be taken prisoners.⁶

Dedicated fighter pilots were a breed apart. The heroes of the Great War skies were thought of as ‘Knights of the Air’, and in this context they were popularly expected to display a ruthlessness tempered with chivalry. The pilots of this new war were expected to act in the same manner. Archie Wilson acknowledged that Caldwell had an aggressive demeanour with a ruthless streak when roused.⁷ Caldwell’s ruthlessness, however,was not tempered with chivalry, but then nor was it tainted with lust or glee in killing.As time passed and sensibilities changed, the idea of shooting parachutists became difficult to accept. Many considered the practice with abhorrence.Although Caldwell accepted that it was his duty to kill during the war, his story of how he gained his nickname evolved. By 1982, he was recalling that the tag ‘Killer’ derived simply from his philosophy prompting the many air-to-ground operations that he advocated, planned and carried out with worthwhile results.⁸

Caldwell’s nickname quickly made its way into popular imagination through numerous news articles during the war years and beyond and this nom de guerre stayed with him all his life. His wife Jean acknowledged that there was a certain element of endearment and tribute about the use of the nickname. For instance, when Caldwell agreed to enter the Anzac House Appeal Pin-up Man contest, he was promoted as ‘an outstanding figure’ and ‘an air killer of enemy fliers’.A publicity handbill stated that he was ‘popularly known and admiringly referred to as Killer Caldwell’ and it entreated people to vote for ‘Killer’ Caldwell. There was also a certain amount of propaganda value in the nickname. Caldwell, along with other successful pilots from the Middle East and European theatres, was presented to the public as a hero, as a killer of the enemy. ‘Killer’was a fitting name for a successful fighter pilot and the alliteration with his surname worked well. As part of this propaganda, even his friends were guilty of using the tag. In a series of broadcasts by fellow 250 Squadron pilot John Waddy, he referred to Caldwell continually as ‘Killer’, rather than ‘Killer’ Caldwell. There was no need to elaborate. The public knew who he meant.⁹

It is over sixty years since Caldwell became a public figure and people still remember him as ‘Killer’. Many remember him with admiration and respect.Although Caldwell used his nickname to describe himself when he took his turn as the 250 Squadron diarist, he eventually considered it with antipathy—he disliked the name and its implication that he was not just someone who was doing his duty, but a killer. It was reported as early as August 1942¹⁰ that Caldwell did not like being called a killer but the nickname was media property by that stage and the press would not relinquish it.

Ross Williams, who flew with 452 Squadron under Caldwell in Darwin, recalled one story about Caldwell and his unfortunate nickname. Caldwell was back in Sydney on leave and was having a quiet drink with two or three friends. A drunken Army private rolled up to him and said, ‘I believe they call you Killer.’ The way that he said it was full of malevolence, and was certainly an insult. Caldwell denied the nickname, but the drunk would not be put off. This, after all, was the famous ‘Killer’ Caldwell. Slurring his words, he declared,‘Yes! They call you Killer, Killer’, and punched Caldwell in the face. Caldwell, who believed that ‘men of self esteem do not turn away from a fight’,¹¹ returned the punch and knocked the private down. Caldwell and his friends then left the bar. As Ross said when he recalled the story, ‘This sort of notoriety is a strange thing.’¹² Strange and, for Caldwell, unwelcome. Caldwell’s nom de guerre clung to him until his death and, in the memories of many, beyond death. In its 9 August 1994 obituary, the Sydney Morning Herald mentioned that Caldwell deplored ‘Killer’ and could never shake it off but, sadly, the newspaper used the nickname in its headline. It also used a wartime photo of Caldwell aiming his service pistol, which, although emphasising his talent as a crack shot, reinforced the image of a killer.¹³

The duty of killing is something that is taught in training.The prevailing doctrine was that the fighter pilot’s job was to kill. It was a case of kill or be killed. The killer instinct, however, is not something that can be Introduction taught. It is something that the fighter pilot acquires when he enters combat for the first time. The quicker he acquires this, the better his chances of surviving.¹⁴ Caldwell may have been considered a ‘Killer’, with a highly developed killer instinct, but there was a cost—he had to harden himself to the experience. He fully recognised that the rules had changed in a state of war and eventually learned that:

to kill a man is no worry.At first you think about it a little, but you soon get over that. It’s your life or theirs.This is war.You do what you have to do and then forget it. All rules of civilian life are suspended and [you] find yourself doing and thinking all manner of things that you never thought you could do.¹⁵

Caldwell once explained that ‘one has a detached feeling when he sits in an aircraft firing at a man on the ground . . . The man below has no reality as a human being. He is just a target, and it is your sole purpose to knock him over.’¹⁶ But Caldwell knew that in setting aside the normal emotions and usual expectations of civilised behaviour ‘the human mind, faced with a situation that is too much for it, protects itself with a dull coating of indifference—to everything except the immediate problem of . . . survival. It becomes drained of emotion, emptied of all feeling for others.’¹⁷

Caldwell developed a killer instinct that was based on a sound fighting philosophy, and he propounded this to his fellow fighter pilots:

I’ve come to the belief that there are usually several methods of killing the other fellow if you think of what you are doing. My idea is that he must be shot down, but preferably in such a way that you will not be shot down yourself in doing it. It resolves itself to this—use your head before your guns. Always attack. Always be aggressive and determined. Never relax that attitude. Be decisive and quick.¹⁸

In many respects, this philosophy governed Caldwell’s life. He was a clear-headed decision-maker and he was a high achiever, whether it was in sport, air-fighting or business. He was uncompromising in his beliefs and attitudes and when he determined upon something, he fixedly set about obtaining it. But Caldwell did not hold exclusively to this unrelenting philosophy. It was mitigated by loyalty to those who served under him during the war and to his family and friends. He was fair-minded and generous and enjoyed the respect and friendship of many.

Caldwell was only one of the many Australians who answered the call to defend their country during the Second World War. He was one of many who felt the effects of the war throughout his life, and he was one of the many who left tangible evidence of his involvement. Caldwell entered Trinity Grammar School in 1922 and left in 1924 to attend Sydney Grammar School. On 15 August 1990, Trinity marked the 50th Anniversary of the end of the War in the Pacific with a moving commemoration ceremony that included readings of poems, letters and diaries. Andrew Filmer, a Year 10 student, spoke about Caldwell. In his conclusion, he acknowledged the significance of Caldwell’s contribution to the defence of his country:

Unfortunately, war appears as a natural event in this world. Would we here all be potential fighters, willing to give up our safety and comfort for an idea, such as he did? Could we knowingly commit ourselves to fear, danger and death? Indeed, when all is said and done, this may be the nature of Caldwell’s heroic deeds, an ordinary man who did extraordinary things in an extraordinary war.¹⁹

Caldwell willingly committed himself to fear, danger and death. He saw himself first and foremost as a fighter pilot and his desire to prosecute the war in this way constantly created tension with his leadership responsibilities. He was so successful as a fighter pilot that it is calculated he achieved a total score of at least twenty-five to twenty-six destroyed and two to four shared destroyed, eleven probably destroyed, twenty-five to twenty-eight damaged and two destroyed on the ground. Official recognition of claims was extremely strict, however, and at the end of the war Caldwell was officially attributed with a score of 27 1/2.²⁰ In carrying out his heroic deeds, he became Australia’s highest scoring fighter ace of the Second World War.

. . . the personal experiences related in the pages that follow may not be without interest.²¹

ONE

The Budding Fighter Pilot

I only had one wish—to escape the horror of the incineration and death that seemed inevitable inside the next few minutes or less.¹

Caldwell was born on 28 July 1910, almost three years after his parents, John Robert Caldwell and Annie Selina Smiles, were married. It was an interesting year—the closing year of the Edwardian Era; the year the earth passed through the tail of Halley’s Comet and, perhaps auspiciously for an infant who would grow up to become Australia’s greatest fighter ace of the Second World War, a year of significant aviation achievement.

In January 1910, Hubert Latham broke the world aviation record for altitude when he reached 3000 feet. This record would soon be far surpassed and by 1943 Caldwell would fly his Spitfire Vc at altitudes in excess of 20 000 feet. In March 1910, Fred Custance, in his Blériot monoplane made the first successful powered flight. His triumph was robbed by Eric Weiss, better known as escape artist Harry Houdini, who, just one day later on 18 March, received all the publicity for three successful flights in his Voisin biplane. In May, American aviator Glenn Curtiss, soon to become known as the father of naval aviation and one of the founders of Curtiss-Wright, the company that would produce the Tomahawk and Kittyhawk fighters that Caldwell would fly so successfully, flew 150 miles, with only two stops, in the space of five hours. His actual flying time was two hours and forty-five minutes, and he achieved almost 60 miles an hour—a world record for that distance. On the day before Caldwell’s birth, British aviator Claude ‘Claudie’ Grahame-White prophesised that within six months, aeroplanes would be able to travel at the rate of 100 miles per hour, and would ultimately attain 300 miles an hour. Although an ambitious prediction in those early days of aviation, Grahame-White’s prophesy had been exceeded by the time Caldwell climbed into the cockpit. Just over thirty years later, Caldwell would fly Allison-engined Tomahawks in the Western Desert with maximum speeds of 345 miles per hour, and over Darwin he would achieve diving speeds in his Spitfire of about 400 miles per hour. Just six days after Caldwell’s birth, at Mia Mia in Victoria, in his self-designed and -constructed aeroplane, John Duigan became the first man to successfully pilot an Australian-built heavier-than-air aircraft.

Caldwell’s mother was thirty-five when her son was born, and he would be her only child. Caldwell took after his mother in looks and Annie was greatly proud of her son: over the years, she compiled a scrapbook of Caldwell’s youthful sporting achievements. The Caldwells were a close family and the young Clive did not have to suffer the absence of his beloved father at the outbreak of the Great War. John Caldwell was forty-four when the Austrian heir apparent was assassinated in Sarajevo, thus precipitating the worldwide conflict.The enlistment age for the Australian Imperial Force ranged from nineteen to thirty-eight. There were exceptions—senior officers and some warrant and noncommissioned officers were older, many men in their forties and fifties put their ages down, and many a young boy put his age up when he heard the call to enlist. But there was no pressure for John Caldwell to leave his family and his career with the English, Scottish and Australian Bank (ES&A Bank).² He joined the bank in 1888, and at the time of his marriage in 1907 he had worked his way up to an accountant. In May 1914, John was appointed manager of his own branch and the family moved to Albion Park, south of Wollongong. Those early links to Albion Park were not forgotten by Caldwell when, in 1944, he became the patron of the newly formed Albion Park sub-branch of the Returned Soldiers, Sailors & Airmen’s Imperial League of Australia.³

In Albion Park the Caldwells lived in the bank’s attached manager’s residence and young Clive soon started his education at the local public school. Although he was too young to be impacted significantly by the worldwide conflict, news of the war dominated newspapers and, like many a boy, his young ears were filled with stories of heroic deeds and the daring achievements of the new fighter aces. Later, he would read about the aces on both sides—Ball, McCudden, Bishop, Collishaw, King Cowper, Udet, Immelman, Richthofen and others.⁴

The Budding Fighter Pilot The Caldwells did not stay long in Albion Park. In 1917, the family returned to Sydney when Caldwell’s father became the manager of the Balmain branch of the ES&A Bank. Balmain is one of Sydney’s oldest working-class suburbs, and it was the birthplace of many of Sydney’s ferries. The Caldwells lived in that bank’s attached residence, and in the year that Captain Robert Little, Australia’s highest-scoring fighter ace of the Great War, tackled eleven German Albatross scout biplanes single-handedly and outmanoeuvred them for thirty minutes, Caldwell started school at Balmain Public School. Like many schools at the time, Balmain Public School became involved in some sort of war work, and it held concerts and organised displays to help raise money for relief funds for Belgian orphans.

In later life, Caldwell was known as an excellent marksman: his shooting skills had been nurtured while he lived in Balmain. There was a shooting range on the bank premises and employees were required to have adequate shooting skills in the event of a robbery. Young Caldwell had access to the bank’s pistol and would frequently take advantage of the shooting