Kristen's Echat With... Michael Molkentin

 

 

In his 2010 review of Fire in the Sky. The Australian Flying Corps in the First World War, historian Michael McKernan stated that ‘Michael Molkentin is a young historian with an impressive future’ (see the review at http://www.michaelmolkentin.com) and iterated his initial impression in his 2012 review of Flying the Southern Cross: Aviators Charles Ulm and Charles Kingsford Smith. As well as a historian awaiting final assessment of his PhD thesis, Michael Molkentin is a teacher, battlefield guide, contributor to key military documentaries, compiler of on-line teaching resources and acclaimed author of Fire in the Sky (Allen & Unwin 2010) and Flying the Southern Cross (National Library of Australia 2012).

 

Of Fire in the Sky, Michael McKernan praised Michael Molkentin for presenting a range of stories in a ‘manner that is accessible and unfailingly interesting, not to say exciting’. The research is evident but there is nothing ponderously dry about either of Michael Molkentin’s books. In previous Echats I have spoken with aviation writers of diverse background and experience but none are professional historians. All bring special qualities to their writing but I was keen to discover more about the historian as popular (as opposed to academic) writer. I wondered about how Michael made the leap from historian to engaging recorder of key aspects of Australian aviation history and whether he had set out to be a writer or whether he just fell into it. Needless to say, I was pleased when he agreed to be pestered by questions for the fourth in my Echat With… series.

 

 

 

Michael grew up in Wollongong, NSW where he went to the local high school and completed a BA (Hons) in English and History at University of Wollongong in 2004. He followed that with a Graduate Diploma of Education while he thought about what he wanted to research for a PhD project. He became one of the rare people to score a teaching job in his home town and discovered that he enjoyed working with students and infusing them with a keen appreciation of history. Before he knew it, four years had passed in the classroom.

 

For some reason, I had got it into my head that Fire in the Sky was based on Michael’s thesis but he set me straight. ‘In 2004 I wrote my BA Hons thesis on the AFC—I’d always been interested in WWI aviation (I grew up reading Biggles and playing the Red Baron video games)—and it seemed that although the Australian War Memorial had voluminous private records relating to Australian airmen in the First World War, few books had been published on the subject since the Official history in 1923. [FM Cutlack: The Australian Flying Corps in the Western and Eastern Theatres of War 1914–1918. Volume VIII: The Official History of Australia in the War of 1914–1918] Shortly after I started teaching in 2006, Professor Peter Stanley (then principal historian at the War Memorial) encouraged me to produce a book on the AFC and introduced me to Ian Bowring who published a lot of the military history at Allen & Unwin. This is how Fire in the Sky came about.’ Perhaps explaining why I thought Fire in the Sky was the book of the thesis, Michael told me that the book ‘used a similar approach to my thesis and a style that appealed to A&U’s broad readership—the story of WWI air combat from an Australian perspective and one that relied predominantly on private records (letters, diaries, memoirs, interviews)’.

 

 

 

Michael was teaching full time at this stage and so he wrote in the evenings and on weekends. It proved a ‘demanding task and one I started not really appreciating how much work was involved’. Even as he taught and wrote, Michael had not forgotten his ambition for higher studies. ‘As I was finishing Fire in the Sky, Professor Jeffrey Grey at ADFA contacted me and asked if I would be interested in doing a PhD on Australians and air power in the First World War—it would form the basis for a volume in the Army Centenary series of which he had been appointed editor.’ (This is Oxford University Press’s five volume Australian Army Centenary History of the Great War series. Written by a group of historians mainly associated with the Australian Centre for the Study of Armed Conflict and Society at UNSW, Canberra, the series is funded by the Australian Army.)

 

Such an invitation would be the dream of any young writer and historian but Michael was initially reluctant to accept as he did not want ‘to commit to another four years research on the same topic—but knew there was a lot of material I had not looked at (especially overseas) that research funding and full-time study would allow.’ And so, in 2010 he embarked upon his PhD studies with a thesis that might be broadly in the same area but of an entirely different focus. ‘Fire in the Sky looked at Australia’s involvement in the First World War “from below”—from the pilot and air mechanic’s perspective. The thesis—Australia, the Empire and the Great War in the Air—examines it from above, from the perspective of imperial politics, strategy, operations; it perceives Australian involvement as part of the empire’s broader effort in the air’. I wondered if Fire in the Sky delayed the thesis at all. ‘Not really and I am glad I wrote a book on the subject first. Most people do it the other way around of course. Starting my PhD I already knew the AFC’s narrative and all the main people involved; this was a useful framework to build on.’ 

 

Fire in the Sky received a number of favourable reviews—and I should declare an interest here as mine was one of them (see the review at http://www.kristenalexander.com.au/reviews#233). This history of the Australian Flying Corps particularly impressed me because, while many formation histories are simply catalogues of movements and battles (and are consequently dead boring, in my humble opinion) Fire in the Sky is interesting, well paced, and easily digestible for the general reader. It seemed to me that this was because Michael kept the men and their individual stories in mind as he wrote it: they are the heart of the book, not the Corps and its activities. I wondered if this is a fair assessment? ‘This is exactly what I intended’, Michael told me. ‘I’d say it is one of the historian’s greatest challenges to balance the “big” picture with personal experiences. A heap of interesting characters floating around in a historical vacuum is as difficult to understand as the “catalogues of movements and battles”. I like books that balance both elements—they show what Private Smith experienced but also set his experiences in a context that makes them meaningful’.

 

I feel that one of the best aspects of Fire in the Sky is how Michael wove one story from a number of different accounts (in my review I used the example of Owen Lewis’s story). In my own work I too have pulled stories together from multiple threads and have encountered conflicts in the source material, including diverging personal interpretations and perceptions. I was particularly interested to know how Michael resolved those conflicts. ‘Historians have a professional obligation to be transparent with their evidence’, Michael advised. ‘Even in books for a popular readership they should signal when their interpretation is based on incomplete or contradictory evidence. As well as being honest, this also indicates to the public (which typically sees history as a sequence of facts) that history is an interpretive and highly subjective business—and that the book they are reading, and indeed, no book, could be considered definitive.’

 

A change of direction from military to civil aviation came about when Michael was contacted by the National Library of Australia’s publications branch. ‘They had read a positive review of Fire in the Sky [the aforementioned one by Michael McKernan] and wanted to do a Collection Highlights book on an item in their Kingsford Smith collection’. Michael ‘did not really know much at all about Kingsford Smith’, but accepted the commission as he ‘saw the project as an opportunity to find out more about Australian aviation between the wars’.

 

  

Given the serendipitous aspects of Michael’s writing career, it is clear he did not set out to be a writer and indeed he ‘did not aspire to be a writer’. But he developed an early interest in historical research and that set him on the path to history writing. ‘I probably began to be interested in historical research in the later stages of my undergraduate degree when I started doing assignments that involved some nominal archival research. Then, in 2005 I was an Australian War Memorial summer scholar—I spent six weeks as an intern in the Memorial’s military history section where I researched the training of the Third Division AIF’s training in Salisbury in 1916. This was to support archaeological field work being undertaken that year by the UK’s Ministry of Defence (the AIF training grounds lay on land held by UK Defence). It was a rich and rewarding experience—doing research that nobody had done before and that had a practical application’.

 

Although plenty of people had trawled widely through Charles Kingsford Smith’s life, few had looked at Charles Ulm’s crucial role in the preparations for their trans-Pacific flight. Flying the Southern Cross presented a particular challenge in that Michael’s brief was to use Charles Ulm’s log book (as well as other related items in the National Library of Australia’s holdings) as the frame work for the story. Even so, there was much scope for original research and to critically look at some of the myths surrounding Kingsford Smith and Ulm over the decades. In particular, Michael highlighted some less favourable aspects of Kingsford Smith’s and Ulm’s personalities and business practices. I wondered how Michael felt about tackling a subject that has such ‘holy cow’ elements to reveal a less savoury side of the legend? (I asked this as I was recently criticised by a connection of Charles Kingsford Smith for mentioning in a talk that Lores Bonney—the subject of the talk—detested him and considered him arrogant. The connection thought I was being unfair as he was such a good man and a hero.) Michael told me that ‘it didn’t concern me at all: as a historian my job is to interpret the evidence, not to promote myths. My reading of the evidence indicated the extraordinary courage and skill of those two men but also some undesirable elements of their characters (which ironically, in Ulm’s case, probably ensured the success of the flight).’ That is good advice, and I will remember it as I pursue my own research interests.

 

 

 

Michael enjoyed a good working relationship with Charles Ulm’s son, John, and I asked if he had been concerned about how John would react to his interpretation of the evidence. ‘Of course, I was sensitive to John’, Michael explained, ‘but was pleased to discover that he was pragmatic about the whole thing—he knew that, like all of us, his father and Kingsford Smith had flaws. His only concern was that I was fair and accurate; he read the finished manuscript and was pleased with it.’ So too are the reading public. Michael told me that he has ‘received no criticism at all regarding my portrayal of Kingsford Smith and Ulm.’ Indeed, Michael McKernan for one praised him for his treatment of them: ‘Our heroes, all of them, may have feet of clay; anyway they are ordinary mortals, with the faults common to all of us. Molkentin wisely acknowledges that—more, he embraces it.’

 

Given that Michael did not set out to be a writer, I was interested in how he managed the writing process, especially how he keeps track of a myriad of information. Rather than invent something new, Michael drew on the experiences of others and adapted their systems. ‘A lot of the older historians I’ve spoken with use (or once used) the index card method of note taking—essentially taking notes from the sources on cards and then arranging them either into a kind of index based on topic or the book’s structure. My system is similar in principle. After doing the background reading I map out the structure of what I am going to write—with Flying the Southern Cross it was relatively easy as the NLA wanted a clear chapter outline from the outset that followed Ulm’s logbook—and place my notes on a scaffold of chapter headings and sub-headings. As I do more research the structure is likely to change—like the old card system, however, using a word processor makes it easy to move notes around and play with the structure.

 

Drawing as he has on the experiences of those who have gone before, I asked Michael about the most important writing advice he has ever received? ‘ “Don’t get it right, get it written”. As a younger writer I would labour over every word and sentence but have learned that it is important to get a rough draft down on paper and then use that as a platform on which to re-work and revise. Writing also is the best indicator of where more research is necessary. I now tell my students that they will do their best thinking on the page.’

 

As well as interacting with students in the classroom, Michael is the man behind some key teacher resources—such as Zero Hour (http://www.zhour.net/)—which help other educators instil a love of history in new generations. I asked what he looks at when writing these resources and whether they are pitched at the student or the teacher? ‘The syllabus comes first’, says Michael. ‘It has to address the subject’s outcomes. Secondly, the (admittedly limited) literature on history teaching pedagogy indicates that students learn best when they approach the past with an “inquiry” or “uncovering” method. So, rather than students digesting a “pre-fabricated” narrative from a text book they use the evidence to solve problems for themselves—essentially do a scaled down version of what a “real” historian does. Students not only tend to find this more engaging than a fact memorisation exercise but it teaches them higher-order thinking skills such as critical analysis and synthesis—abilities that have strong applications well beyond the history classroom.’ Teaching has changed much—and for the better—from when I was a bright eyed bushy tailed schoolie.

 

 

 

Michael has found another avenue for history teaching and storytelling. He is also a battlefield guide. ‘Battlefield guiding shares many elements of teaching’, Michael explained. ‘The battlefield itself—the terrain—replaces the photographs and maps that I would normally use in the classroom. Storytelling is an important element for a guide, especially as the Great War’s battlefields on the Western Front are so immense. I find it is necessary to interpret places through the experiences of an individual or a small group—then a place starts to make sense for the battlefield visitor.’

 

Michael’s writing plate is currently full. Once he finishes the First World War air power book he will turn to an account of the 1917 Passchendaele campaign which Allen & Unwin will publish for the 2017 centenary. It is too soon to consider what he will focus on after 2017 but I could not help asking if, given the particular people focus of his first two books and his special ability to bring the dead back to life through storytelling, if he would move into biography? ‘I’ve come across a couple of very impressive collections of private papers during my doctoral research in Australia and Britain. I have played with the idea of using these as the basis for a biography one day. It seems a challenging task and I am guessing that having an extensive set of private papers would be crucial’. Nothing definite, but he hasn’t ruled anything out!

 

Michael may not have set out to be a writer but he is now well established in his career, but not so far from his beginnings that he has forgotten his earliest writing thrill, that of ‘seeing a pile of Fire in the Sky in a Sydney bookshop the day it was first released. After four years of hard work it is incredibly gratifying to see your work out there for sale’. And that is an experience shared with every other writer.

 

If you would like to connect to Michael, visit his website at http://www.michaelmolkentin.com/ You can view him talking about Flying the Southern Cross: Charles Ulm and Charles Kingsford Smith and chatting with Charles Ulm’s son John at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjCAAahMJEE

 

Both of Michael’s books are currently in print and available in Australian bookshops.  

I am delighted Michael Molkentin agreed to be the subject of my fourth Echat With... I have learned much about the writing practice of historians. Next month I Echat With... Andy Wright, aviation book reviewer extraordinaire of Aircrew Book Review http://aircrewbookreview.blogspot.com.au/

Stay tuned for the fourth in Kristen's Echat With... series. Echat With... Michael Molkentin on 1 August 2013

In previous Echats I have spoken with aviation writers of diverse background and experience but none are professional historians. All bring special qualities to their writing but I was keen to discover more about the historian as popular (as opposed to academic) writer. I wondered about how Michael Molkenin—teacher, battlefield guide, contributor to key military documentaries, compiler of on-line teaching resources and acclaimed author of Fire in the Sky (Allen & Unwin 2010) and Flying the Southern Cross (National Library of Australia 2012)— made the leap from historian to engaging recorder of key aspects of Australian aviation history and whether he had set out to be a writer or whether he just fell into it. Read all about Michael Molkentin, historian and author, in the fourth of my Echat With... series on 1 August 2013.

If you haven't yet read any of Michael's books, check out my review of Fire in the Sky to whet your appetite http://www.kristenalexander.com.au/reviews#233

 

 

 

 

Clive Robertson Caldwell. Australia's highest scoring fighter pilot of the Second World War

Clive Robertson Caldwell was born on 28 July 1910. On the 103rd anniversary of his birth it is fitting to look back on the aviation career of Australia’s highest scoring fighter pilot of the Second World War.

 

 

Caldwell was educated at Trinity and Sydney Grammar schools, leaving before he turned 17. Pressured by his father, he joined the Bank of New South Wales. Caldwell and the bank were not a good fit so he resigned. After a stint jackerooing up north and a partnership in a private garage, he joined the MLC Assurance Company. As a child, he had read of the exploits of British and German Great War aces: ‘like most boys, I thought that this was the thing—how to be one such as they. I could picture myself there, rolling through the clouds, shooting them down and becoming a fighter ace!’ He joined the Royal Aero Club and by the time war broke out had acquired a total of ten or eleven flying hours.

At 29, he knew it was almost too late to be a fighter pilot so asked a friend who was a chemist to professionally amend the date on his birth certificate. When he arrived at the Royal Australian Air Force recruitment centre with the altered document he was challenged about his age but Caldwell said it was not their place to cross-examine him. He had been asked to produce a birth certificate, and he had. Two months later, he was accepted by the RAAF as a cadet officer for pilot training but soon discovered his course was destined to become instructors. He resigned and was accepted into the Empire Air Training Scheme.

He carried out all of his training in Australia and received his flying badge in November 1940. On 12 January 1941, he was granted his commission. He embarked for the Middle East and, after a brief stint with 73 Squadron RAF, joined 250 Squadron RAF on 8 May, just as it was converting to the Tomahawk IIB.

250 Squadron was called upon to assist with the invasion of Syria. Caldwell’s first sortie was on 12 May, escorting bombers to Palmyra airfield. There was no action in the air but he carried out some ground strafing and set one enemy aircraft on fire, and damaged another. Over the next few days, he carried out a number of sorties in Syria and Cyprus and escort flights during the evacuation of Crete. On 11 June, the squadron received a signal to prepare to take part in Operation Battleaxe, the army campaign to relieve Tobruk.

Caldwell took off at dawn on 18 June but had to land again with electrical trouble. He was in the air again fifteen minutes later but the other Tomahawks were about sixty miles ahead. This did not deter Caldwell:

 

I suddenly came on two lorries. As I closed toward [them], the crews jumped out and dived into the ditch at the roadside. I opened fire on the first truck at about 500 yards and then suddenly another chap popped out of the second truck. I...knocked him off like a ninepin. He fairly leapt into the air and came down flat on his back in the road! Well, I turned and gave the lorries another splash just to fix [them] for sure, then put a burst across the three Jerries lying in plain view in the ditch and so did them in. About ten miles further along, I found five lorries all dispersed in a circle and had a go at them, putting three out of action. In the meantime, they opened up with machine guns and a bit of tracer was flying about. I had a stab at one gun post and silenced that, fixing the two gunners and pushed off toward Tobruk.

 

Caldwell eventually caught up with his detachment. On the way home, they were jumped by four Me 109s. Caldwell engaged one without success. The Germans’ shooting was more accurate and three Tomahawks were shot down, one in flames. Caldwell saw one of the pilots bale out. As he floated down towards the sea, two Messerschmitts dived on him. The first fired, but missed and zoomed away. A stream of bullets from the second hit the helpless pilot as he swung in the cords of his parachute. Then there was stillness. The body drifted down towards the sea. It was recovered later, riddled with bullets. From that point, Caldwell had no qualms about shooting down enemy parachutists.

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.

 

 

On 25 June, 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. He was initially posted to 2 Operational Training Unit in Mildura as a flying instructor and then carried out tests on the Boomerang. He took command of 1 Fighter Wing in November 1942.

1 Fighter Wing consisted of 54 Squadron RAF and 452 and 457 squadrons RAAF. Flying Spitfire Mark Vcs initially and later the Mark VIII, they were tasked with the defence of Australia. The Wing arrived at Darwin in January 1943. Wing Commander Caldwell was itching to get back into combat, and was looking forward to leading the Wing against the Japanese. Since February 1942, fifty air raids had been carried out over the Darwin area and it was reasonable to assume his opportunity would come soon. However, the Japanese attack plan changed about this time: they started carrying out heavy raids at intervals rather than small but frequent attacks. This became a frustrating period for Caldwell but he made the most of the few opportunities offered and led his Wing with dynamism and skill. One defence, however, left him open to criticism at the highest levels.

 

 

At 9.26 a.m. on 2 May 1943, the Bathurst Island RDF station recorded the first plots of enemy aircraft and almost immediately alerted fighter sector control. It was the 54th Japanese raid over Australia. Thirty-three Spitfires were scrambled and 1 Spitfire Wing was ordered to rendezvous at 10,000 feet above Hughes strip.

After rendezvous, the controller advised Caldwell that twenty-plus bombers, escorted by a large number of fighters, was approaching from west-north-west at approximately 20,000 feet, and confirmed Darwin as the target. When the Wing was about ten miles north east of Darwin, at 26,000 feet, the enemy formation was sighted passing West Point. The bombers crossed the harbour and Caldwell saw the escorting fighters above the bombers. The Wing had attained 27,000 feet by this stage but was still not in a position to attack advantageously so Caldwell decided to continue climbing for height, letting the bombers continue on their way. He would attack on their way out.

The Japanese bombers were 26,000 feet above the RAAF aerodrome at Darwin when they commenced bombing at 10.15 a.m. Their fighter escort was at 31,000 feet, but the Spitfire Wing had attained only 30,000 feet. After bomb release, the Japanese turned right. The Spitfire Wing levelled out at 32,500 feet. It had now attained its maximum advantage and turned west, moving to intercept the enemy aircraft as they crossed the coast on their way out. The Wing was in a sound formation, with squadrons sections abreast, and the Wing in squadrons abreast. But then, 54 Squadron lost position and dropped astern. As the enemy crossed the coast just east of Point Blaze, 452 and 457 squadrons were in an excellent position to attack but, despite being ordered to by Caldwell, 54 Squadron did not close the gap. It was some considerable distance behind and eight minutes elapsed before it came into position. Once this happened, the attack commenced. 54 Squadron was instructed to attack the fighter cover, 457 was to attack the bombers, and 452 were to follow 457, keeping their tails clear during their attack on the bombers, engaging as many fighters as possible, and also covering 457’s withdrawal back up on the sunward side.

54 Squadron’s pilots hurtled down at 400 miles per hour in an almost vertical dive and claimed one damaged bomber, two destroyed fighters, one probable fighter and three damaged fighters. Whilst 54 Squadron was diving to attack the fighters, 457 attacked the bombers. The Japanese fighter escort turned to face 457 head-on, successfully diverting their attack. Even so, 457 squadron destroyed one fighter, probably destroyed one more and two were damaged.

After 457 Squadron attacked, Caldwell led 452 Squadron into the battle. Diving steeply, he attacked a Zero at close range. He had problems with his cannons, his aircraft slewed starboard and he missed the Zero. He broke up sharply and was attacked by two Zeros, one of which commenced firing. Caldwell dived under them, but another came up behind him, and Pilot Officer Kenneth Fox fired on it until it turned away. Fox then engaged another Zero, but his Spitfire was hit in the engine and he baled out. Flying Officer Adrian Goldsmith destroyed a bomber but was then attacked by a Hap. His controls were shot away and he too baled out. Caldwell destroyed a Zero and a Hap, and the squadron claimed two probably destroyed Zeros and a damaged Hap. The whole engagement lasted twenty minutes.

From a Japanese perspective, the raid was a success. They claimed twenty-one shot down and four probables. No losses were acknowledged. The fighters were successful in protecting the bombers, and the bombers reached their target. Although major damage was not done there was some nuisance value.

From the Wing’s perspective, the engagement was not a success. Despite its advantage of sun, height and speed, results were not up to expectations. Although it had destroyed or damaged a number of fighters, the Wing only claimed one bomber destroyed and one damaged. Two Spitfire pilots were killed and fourteen Spitfires were destroyed or damaged—of which only three could be directly attributed to enemy action. A number of factors impacted on the Wing’s success, including the skill of the Japanese pilots, weaponry problems, the Spitfire’s lack of fuel capacity, the tactics used and general lack of fighter combat experience in the Wing.

1 Fighter Wing’s defence was criticised by General MacArthur’s headquarters and General Kenney. Media reaction was harsh, and public confidence in the Spitfire defence was shaken. Shortly after, the Advisory War Council requested Air Vice-Marshal George Jones, Chief of Air Staff, to make a full report of the action. His report failed to acknowledge long term Spitfire maintenance problems and that Caldwell’s battle strategy had been predetermined. He also appeared to pay more attention to erroneous media reports than to post-battle debriefs. He ignored the fact that Caldwell had warned his pilots on a number of occasions to keep an eye on their fuel consumption and was critical of Caldwell’s leadership.

Caldwell replied to Jones’ criticism of his actions by claiming his pilots had been properly directed during the engagements, and if they had obeyed their instructions, they would have reached base safely. It also angered him that Jones did not directly consult him about the Wing’s defence. Throughout his life, Caldwell maintained his anger over the treatment of the Wing after Raid 54. He later stated: ‘I regret to say that our own Chief of Air Staff, without bothering to check the facts…abandoned us. And we were disgusted.’

A number of changes were made as a consequence of Raid 54, including the use of belly tanks on Spitfires. In addition, the dogfight 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. Those who loved and respected him recalled a courageous and dedicated leader who had been acclaimed by Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Tedder as ‘an excellent leader and a first class shot’. Despite the controversial aspects of the latter stage of his air force career, Caldwell was deeply committed to a concept of duty and believed it was his responsibility to help defeat the enemy. However, he did not wear the strictures of the RAAF well and was often at odds with elements of the air force hierarchy. Even so, he had accomplished much. His innovative skills led to his discovery of shadow shooting, which he considered to be his most important contribution to the war in the air. He was the first Australian empire air scheme trainee to become a flight commander. He was the first to command a squadron and was also the first graduate to rise to the rank of group captain. He had been officially attributed with 27½ victories and was Australia’s highest scoring fighter pilot of the Second World War. With his remarkable war time achievements, Clive Caldwell holds an important place in many hearts and in Australia’s war time history.

 

Clive Caldwell Air Ace available from www.alexanderfaxbooks.com.au

Ebook available from amazon http://www.amazon.com/Clive-Caldwell-Air-Ace-ebook/dp/B0051SIUX0/ref=sr_1_1_title_0_main?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1369553196&sr=1-1&keywords=clive+caldwell+air+ace

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Book review. Lancaster Men. The Aussie Heroes of Bomber Command by Peter Rees

The most recent edition of Sabretache. The Journal and Proceedings of the Military Historical Society of Australia has been published (Vol LIV No 2, June 2013). It includes my review of

 

Peter Rees: Lancaster Men. The Aussie Heroes of Bomber Command (Allen & Unwin, April 2013, Card covers trade paperback size 424pp b&w plates. ISBN: 97817417520706)

 

I enjoyed the book and think it is a sensitive and valuable addition to Australia's Bomber Command experiences.

Here's the review...

I first met Peter Rees in September 2010 at a book launch. He was accompanied by Ted Pickerd who, Peter told me, had served with Bomber Command. I was overawed as I spoke to Ted briefly about his experiences and pleased when Peter explained that Ted would feature in the account of Australians in Bomber Command that he was working on. Peter and I subsequently enjoyed sporadic email contact and he kept me posted on the progress of his work. Last year, I had the pleasure of reading and commenting on an early draft. If I was overawed by Ted’s experiences in our brief chat, I was overwhelmed when reading about them, as well as those of his Bomber Command compatriots, in Lancaster Men. The Aussie Heroes of Bomber Command.

 

In this fine account, Peter follows the general course of the war, and includes the full gamut of wartime episodes: recruitment and training, crewing up, combat, flak and attack, bailing out, capture, injuries, death and return. The Pathfinders, Dambusters and Great Escapers are included. Even Q for Queenie’s harbour bridge stunt gets a mention. He discusses the bombing of Dresden, long considered the darkest moment of the bombing campaign, and places it in a new perspective. He includes historical commentary where appropriate, but the personal stories, such as those of Rollo Kingsford-Smith, Jack Davenport, Noel Eliot, Jim Rowland, Jack Mitchell, Mickey Martin, Alick Roberts, Blue Connelly, and Ted Pickerd, are the heart of his book.

 

As he demonstrated in The Other Anzacs: Nurses at War, 1914–1918 and Desert Boys. Australians at War from Beersheba to Tobruk and El Alamein, Peter is a natural story teller. When drawing together a large collection of stories, there is the risk that the multitude of individuals will be lost to the reader. Not here, or indeed in Peter’s other works. He skilfully inks in the pen portraits so the reader can instantly identify each man; he seamlessly blends their words into a moving and dramatic narrative.

 

The concept of duty is almost alien to us these days and yet Peter Rees’s 20-year-old (or thereabouts) heroes were firmly committed to participating in a far away war. The remarkable thing about this dedication is that, from almost the first day of training, through to their inclusion in 1000 aircraft bomber raids, powering through flak, searchlights, enemy fighters and even ‘friendly’ attack from the machines above them in the bomber stream, it is made clear that they are expendable. Somehow, those brave men accepted that expendability and the potential inevitability of a death which, other than in the privacy of their own thoughts and diaries, was treated blithely. Someone went for a Burton, someone had gone west, and in the case of Noel Eliot’s brother: ‘All killed—funeral at one-thirty this afternoon!’ It indeed says much about these men that, despite this prevailing attitude, they continued to climb into their mighty machines, even those like Alf Read who saw a Lancaster rear gunner hosed out of his turret. In their case, Aussie Hero is not a false accolade.

 

Rollo Kingsford-Smith reappears a number of times and, in a sense, becomes a key ‘commentator’ of the Bomber Command experience as we share his beliefs, thoughts, practices, grief at the loss of a friend, and the searing ignominy of ‘boomeranging’ from a bombing op when the electrics failed in the rear turret. He would have gone on if the turret itself or guns had failed but with the outside temperature below –40 degrees Celsius, the rear gunner was prone to frostbite and, within a few hours his efficiency would be suspect. The entire crew would be at risk if he could not defend them from attack. It was the right decision, but, as a leader who would grill any other pilot who made a similar decision, Rollo felt ashamed. ‘It took me a week before I could safely lift my head again’.

 

One of the strongest threads is that of comradeship, evident from the first moments of the crewing up process where men who had little in common created an instant bond. They effortless worked as a team during the long hours of each bombing operation, adhered to rigid flight discipline in the air, and enjoyed lighter moments in the mess. So strong was the bond that some men extended their own tour so they could fly one more time with their crew. Sometimes, it was literally their last flight. There was striking recognition of the dangers a Jewish crew member would face. When Eric Rosenfeld asked the RAF what he should do if captured by the Germans, he was told to tell them he was a British officer and a gentleman. It wasn’t good enough for Eric’s skipper, Noel Sanders. With typical Australian ingenuity, he organised a set of fake, Anglicised dog tags for his navigator to wear on ops. Just in case.

 

At 135,000 words Lancaster Men is perhaps a little longer than readers are used to these days but there is no sense that this has been overextended or padded. It has a well constructed, pacey narrative that never sags. The text is supported by a good selection of photos, many supplied by the families of Peter Rees’s key subjects, two decent maps, a useful index, notes and bibliography, and a great cover. There is only one flaw, to my mind. Peter’s original title was All the Fine Young Men. That was rejected by Allen & Unwin, who decided it should be called Lancaster Men. Catchier title perhaps, but Peter’s fine men also flew Hampdens, Whitleys, Stirlings, Manchesters and Wellingtons. In excluding those who flew other aircraft from the title, the marketers have somehow diminished their experience and resulted in at least one non-sale: one friend of a Stirling pilot refused to buy the book because he thought it only covered Lancaster aircrew.

 

Rollo Kingsford-Smith makes a telling point when he refers to the monotony of ops: dangerous they may be, but they are all the same. Go out, dodge flak, AA and defenders, drop the bombs and hope you get home again. Perhaps that is why, in the canon of aviation literature, there are relatively few bomber command memoirs and biographies, when compared with the constant action, fire-at-the-whites-of-their-eyes Fighter Command tales. In bringing together a multitude of smaller stories in this first class work, Peter Rees not only highlights the key experiences of the individuals, he illuminates the entire Australian experience in Bomber Command. This is a fine tribute. Highly recommended.

Another review of Australian Eagles

Another review of Australian Eagles! The most recent edition of Sabretache. The Journal and Proceedings of the Military Historical Society of Australia has been published (Vol LIV No 2, June 2013) and it includes Peter Ingman's review of Australian Eagles. Peter has homed in on two aspects of my particular style of aviation writing: that I favour a personal, biographical approach rather than a technical treatise on battle and materiel; and that I eschew the 'faction' of cockpit action. I have reprinted a large chunk of the review here.

 

Australian Eagles comprises the stories of six Australian fighter pilots who fought in the Battle of Britain. There are no lengthy dissertations on the rise of National Socialism or the design history of the Spitfire; Alexander gets straight down to business after a brief reminder of the importance of the Battle of Britain, including Churchill’s famous words, ‘Upon this battle depends the survival of Christian civilisation...’. So it was that an extraordinary weight was placed on the shoulders of ‘The Few’—generally young men barely out of school.

The Australian pilots in the Battle of Britain were indeed just a few (around 30—the number varies depending on your definition of ‘Australian’) among ‘The Few’. These men had joined the air force during peacetime so their stories immediately differ from the typical WWII pilot biography. Some trained at Point Cook but then joined the RAF in short service commissions—so there was a cadre of Australian fighter pilots flying years before the first fighter squadron would be formed in Australia.

This book is about the less celebrated pilots. ... Four of these pilots were killed in 1940, although there were still another five hard years of war ahead—five years of significant events that would further obscure this period. It is touching to see how these men are remembered today—particularly by their school communities, but also by others. Only the most passionate of researchers would explore these relatively brief stories to find something about the nature and character of these men—and Alexander does just that. Underlining these difficulties, there is an ‘interlude’ describing the dearth of records concerning one of the pilots, Dick Glyde, who is barely remembered in squadron records and even excluded from certain accounts.

Alexander has her own style as an aviation writer. She does not try and put the reader in the cockpit, nor are actions embellished with detail that can only have been assumed. This is a difficulty for aviation writers: often complex events are accounted for very tersely in squadron records or logbooks. It is easy, then, to borrow from the experiences of others and in doing so overshadow the primary character concerned. Alexander does not go down that path. In fact by focusing on some relatively brief careers she gives her subjects a certain humility—and as a result treats them with due reverence.

For this reason the book is in many ways a refreshing angle on this subject. It reminds us that there is more to fighter pilots than just their tally count. In particular, all of those who lost their lives leave behind a rich legacy in their communities and family which lives on to the present day.

 

Alexander Fax Bookseller's display of Australian Eagles