Australia’s highest scoring fighter pilot of WWII
By Kristen Alexander
Clive Robertson Caldwell received his flying badge in November 1940 under the Empire Air Training Scheme. On 12 January 1941, he was granted his commission and embarked for the Middle East. After a brief stint with 73 Squadron RAF, he joined 250 Squadron RAF on 8 May, just as it was converting to the Tomahawk IIB.
Although he was desperate to become one, Caldwell was not a natural fighter pilot and once confessed it took about thirty sorties before he scored his first air-to-air combat victory. He became frustrated by his lack of verified claims. He eventually discovered an effective technique almost by accident.
I noticed the shadows were quite clear there, running over the desert. It occurred to me that if I could hit the shadow, I could hit the aircraft by simply transposing the relative position. By firing at the shadow I could see the dust go up…So I turned the guns on and my reflector sight on and opened fire on the shadow well back, and found my…burst was over and behind it. I tried it again, just a quick squirt on the trigger; you know, half a second burst. Same thing. By the time I’d had about six of these one second bursts I found that I was beginning to correct my shooting. And so quite obviously this was the answer.
Caldwell demonstrated the technique to his commanding officer who was so impressed he reported it to headquarters. A directive was soon sent to all desert fighter squadrons to adopt shadow shooting.
By June, 1941, the squadron was taking part in Operation Battleaxe, the army campaign to relieve Tobruk. On the 25th, a contingent of Tomahawks were returning home after a bomber escort when the enemy fighters arrived:
down they came on us like bombs. In the first rush no one was hurt and they carried on away down in their dive. As we got near Tobruk the [anti-aircraft fire] opened up and we shifted away a bit, then they arrived in force and about forty machines got going on us. I was sort of flopping about all over the sky trying to get fixed and having a shot now and then as one flashed by. I got on one chap’s tail and was just going along well when I heard a couple of sharp taps and saw some holes appear in my wing and tracer slipping by just beside the cockpit so I deduced that one must be on my tail and took plenty of violent action to spook him off. When I recovered from the shock I was at about 9000 feet and more or less unattached. Then just below me, out of the general ruck…an Me 109 quickly flew straight and level, so I winged over and dived on it. He saw me and dived too, but I managed to close to about 150 feet and let him have the lot. We raced on down, me firing like hell and as we got truly low, I began to pull out and he just kept right on, hit the ground and exploded with a hell of a flash.
Caldwell had finally achieved his first acknowledged victory.
During his training, Caldwell was taught the duty of killing: the prevailing doctrine was that the fighter pilot’s job was to kill but the killer instinct can only be acquired when the pilot enters combat. The quicker he acquires this, the better his chances of surviving. Caldwell’s killer instinct was based on a sound fighting philosophy: ‘use your head before your guns. Always attack. Always be aggressive and determined. Never relax that attitude. Be decisive and quick’. His score quickly mounted and he acquired the sobriquet ‘Killer’, a nickname he grew to despise.
On 29 August, ten Tomahawks were sent on a convoy patrol and encountered the enemy. Caldwell was acting as weaver when he was sighted by two Me 109s, which appeared almost simultaneously, one from astern and the other from his port side. He saw neither as they launched their attack. His aircraft sustained much damage. He was hit in his left shoulder and hip and small pieces of glass embedded in his face. The aircraft spun out of control and he blacked out while pulling out of the dive. When he came to, he considered baling but the fire died out. He decided to remain in his Tomahawk.
All of a sudden streams of smoke started to go past me, two 109s were after me…I thought, ‘Well, I’ve bought it this time definitely’. I did what I could, but a bullet hit the wing again, and that didn’t help me very much, and I must have been about a quarter of an hour with those blokes chasing me and skidding, and me all the time trying to turn and watch them and the sweat just dripping out of my helmet with fright and hard work. And then one of them did a silly thing. He got a little bit over-confident, and when I turned once he just turned round and overshot me, and I put a burst into his belly and he went into the sea. The other chap let me go. It was just on dark, and he probably wanted to go home and was out of ammunition.
With the destruction of this Me 109, Caldwell had become an ‘ace’. He had five confirmed victories, three half shares, six damaged, one probable and one unconfirmed. As well as recognition as an ace, Caldwell’s efforts resulted in his being awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.
Caldwell continued to score air victories with 250 Squadron, including the famous ‘Stuka party’ of 5 December 1941 when, in a firing spree that took about 18 seconds, he accounted for five Stukas, and became an ace in a day. For this action, he was awarded the bar to his Distinguished Flying Cross. On 28 December, he was notified that he was to command 112 Squadron RAF, flying Kittyhawk Is. He continued to notch up victories as he developed an aggressive leadership style which also resulted in squadron success. During Caldwell’s period as commander, 112 Squadron accounted for eighteen and three shared destroyed enemy aircraft. He was awarded the Polish Cross of Valour in appreciation of his gallant co-operation with the Polish pilots of 112 Squadron. When Caldwell left the Middle East in May 1942, his official score was 20½ enemy aircraft destroyed: he had become the top-scoring desert fighter pilot.
After brief stints in America and the UK, where he flew operations to France with the Kenley Wing in order to familiarise himself with the Spitfire, Caldwell returned to Australia and by November 1942 took command of 1 Fighter Wing.
After an unsuccessful engagement with a Japanese bombing raid over Darwin on 2 May 1943, 1 Fighter Wing made a number of tactical changes. Dogfighting was largely abandoned in favour of the dive-pass attack method, with emphasis on attacking only with the advantage of height. The Wing quickly assimilated the new tactics and effected a successful defence on 20 June. Caldwell shot down his fifth enemy aircraft over Darwin and was awarded the Distinguished Service Order shortly after. With an official score of 25½ victories this Japanese victory saw Caldwell become an ace five times over and an ace in two different theatres of war. This was a unique achievement for an Australian pilot.
Caldwell scored two more victories against the Japanese, taking his official score to 27½. He was posted to 2 Operational Training Unit as Chief Flying Instructor in September 1943. Towards the end of the war, having attained the rank of Group Captain, he commanded 80 Fighter Wing, was involved in the so-called ‘Morotai Mutiny’ and was court-martialled for liquor trading. After the war, he went into import/export and established a successful business career. Caldwell died peacefully on 5 August 1994 after a long illness. He had been proud of his wartime achievements and did not regret any of his actions.
