RAAF Black Cats Chapter Sampler
RAAF Black Cats Chapter Sampler
Maps by MAPgraphics
Index by Puddingburn
Set in 11.5/17 pt Minion by Midland Typesetters, Australia
Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press, part of Ovato
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Epilogue197
Note from the authors 201
Acknowledgements205
Hokkaido
MANCHURIA Otaru
Rashin Muroran
Honshu
Genzan
Dairen
Niigata
Tsingtao Tokyo
3
Moji 1
1 Osaka
Shanghai 2 Kyushu 2 Kagoshima
3 Maizuru
CHINA Bonin Islands
Keelung
FORMOSA
Hong Kong Takoa
BURMA
Hainan PACIFIC OCEAN
Rangoon South China
SIAM Sea PHILIPPINES Saipan
INDO-CHINA Manila
Saigon
Ormoc
Jaluit
Davao Truk
Palau
Medan Miri
Morotai
Singapore BORNEO
SUMATRA Balikpapan CELEBES Halmahera Biak
Palembang Hollandia
Kendari Ambon Rabaul
NEW
4
GUINEA
Surabaya
JAVA PAPUA
4 Macassar
1500 km
INDIAN OCEAN
North
NEW BRITAIN
NEW
GUINEA
Solomon Sea
Milne Bay
g
ien
s
irn
av
Ca
oK
to
st
ng
irn
vie
Ca
Coral Sea
Ka
Cairns
400 km
AUSTRALIA
North
CHINA
THAILAND
Manila Bay 54
PHILIPPINES
Balabac Strait 60
Sandakan 12
MALAYA Brunei Bay 20
Tarakan 30
Banka Strait 28
BORNEO
Lembeh Strait 4
Kau Bay 62
SUMATRA Samarinda 12 CELEBES
Soron
Balikpapan 118 Vesuvius
Bangka Strait 117 Bay 8
Kendari 44
Ko
Laut Strait 209 Wowoni Strait 24 B
Parepare
Cape Selatan 28 14
Tioro Strait 76
Macassar 142 Buton Strait 42
Tana Keke Strait 43 Baubau 4
JAVA Surabaya 399 Malosoro 15 Pomalaa 51
Laikang Bay 8 Kolaka 12
Pasuruan 8 Cape Bulu Bulu 12
Probolinggo 8 Bima 8
Panarukan 10
Waingapu 4
Palau 23 Woleai 36
Bay 62
Sorong 29
Manokwari 17
Lorengau 35
Kavieng 104
Kokas 8 Babo 17
24 Boela 12 Kaimana 19
Geser 10
6
NEW
GUINEA
500 km
AUSTRALIA
North
24-6-19
Wonsan
Pusan
Ha
CHINA
Sasebo
Nanking
Hankow Shanghai
Kunming
Okinaw
Amoy Kirin
Swatow (Keelung)
Calcutta Canton
Takao
Hong Kong
Haiphong
INDIA
Martaban
Rangoon
Moulmein
Manila
Port Blair Mergui
Cam Ranh Bay
Saigon
Victoria Point
Cape Cambodia
CEYLON Songkhla
Singapore
Kau Ba
Padang
Balikpapan
Kok
Macassar
Surabaya
Sasebo
anghai
Chichijima
Okinawa Hahajima
in
eelung)
Guam
Wotje
Maloelap
Jaluit Mili
Truk
Palau Woleai
Kau Bay
Manokwari Manus
Kavieng
Kokas Hollandia
Geser
Kieta
Darwin/East Arm
Cairns
AUSTRALIA
800 km
North
24-6-19
xv
but then chose the RAAF. He trained as an observer, passing his exams and
earning a wing with an embossed ‘O’. Later in the war, the RAAF redesig-
nated ‘observer’ to ‘navigator’, changing the ‘O’ to an ‘N’. Like many who
had earned the original designation, Reg would continue wearing his ‘O’
wing proudly. It signified his experience in the RAAF and was, quite liter-
ally, a badge of honour.
Signing up to the RAAF proved just as dangerous as James’s time
in the army. Reg was sent on missions that took him far behind enemy
lines. It might not have been a soggy trench, but the risk to his life was
just as real. This was something that Reg kept from his family.
During training and when given his postings, Reg regularly wrote
home. Nearly all the letters were addressed to his mother, but they
were for the whole family to let them know he was okay. He wrote of
mundane activities such as washing, darning socks, watching tropical
thunderstorms and spending money on milkshakes. Movies provided
the main source of entertainment. More often than not they were
American, and usually came with a cartoon, which interested and
amused Reg more than some of the features. With the exception of
one letter he addressed to his father, Reg never wrote about his oper-
ations, close encounters with the enemy, or anything considered top
secret. The closest he came to this was a reference to having ‘had a
long flight’, and explaining that he had slept for most of the day after
returning.
When Reg visited his family in December 1944, he and Bob had a
quiet moment together. The curious ten-year-old asked Reg what he
planned to do after the war. Bob was surprised when Reg dropped
his stoic facade and said, ‘I don’t think I’m coming back.’ There was
silence as each reflected on what had been said. Bob kept Reg’s confi-
dence, never telling anyone of their short conversation, especially his
mother. Reg’s words, however, would remain with Bob for the rest of
his life.
Bob, resting in his bedroom, heard his mother let out a loud cry of
anguish. While the telegram didn’t say that Reg had been killed, his father,
knowing war all too well, quietly told Bob that he didn’t think his brother
would return. He also warned Bob, ‘but don’t tell your mother I said that’.
During this time, many families feared for the loss of their son, brother
or husband, but hoped for their return. Any hope Janet had of Reg being
found hiding among the forests of a tropical island or being repatriated
from a prisoner-of-war (POW) camp was dashed when, in 1947, Reg was
officially classified as deceased. More precisely, in a letter that arrived at
the Cleworth home dated 3 April:
Naturally, the family was devastated. Reg’s mother carried her grief for
the remainder of her life. His father, a superintendent at the local Meth-
odist Sunday school, lost his faith. Bob vividly recalled his father telling
him, ‘I had my doubts in World War I . . . now your brother’s gone, there
is no God . . . it’s all a lot of load of hooey [rubbish].’
The Black Rock Cricket Club, where Reg had played, named its
building The J R Cleworth Pavilion in honour of Reg’s popularity,
contribution and sportsmanship. It remained so for some years until
the grounds were taken over by a baseball club. As Bob noted, ‘that’s
how history goes’.
No details were ever given about Reg’s incident. Where and why he
was flying, and the reason his aircraft went down, were not forthcom-
ing. Bob was always curious about what his brother did during the war,
though he respected his mother’s grief and didn’t delve too much into
the subject. He was busy himself, starting his apprenticeship to become
a marine engineer at the age of fourteen and, five years later, earning his
qualifications and going to sea. Unbeknown to Bob at the time, he sailed
around the south-west Pacific, visiting and working in the same areas in
which his brother had flown operations. Bob married and shifted careers,
gaining a law degree and a master’s in modern history while teaching law
at Macquarie University. His interest in World War I led Bob to become
one of the first tour guides to take people to Gallipoli and Western Front
locations in Belgium and France. He also led tours as a historian for
Returned and Services League (RSL) Travel.
It wasn’t until after his mother, Janet, passed away in 1986 that Bob
felt he could investigate Reg’s service career. In her final days, Janet had
a fall and was admitted to the Royal North Shore Hospital. After her
passing, Bob and his family went to collect his mother’s belongings.
A nurse asked Bob if he had a brother who was killed in the war. She
revealed that she and other staff would hear Janet speaking with Reg,
right up until her last day. Reg’s death had affected Janet more deeply
than anyone had realised.
Janet had kept all the letters Reg had sent, from his early training days
in 1943 to his last on 28 February 1945. In that final letter, Reg wrote:
Dear Mother,
Haven’t much news for you this time, but thought I’d drop you a
line + let you known [sic] I was OK. Don’t be surprised if you don’t
get any letters for a while. There will be a delay in them for a while
I think.
allowed Bob to view the various letters Collins had written about his time
working with the RAAF.
Over time, the veterans became more relaxed with Bob and, because
of Reg, accepted him as one of their own. They now began relating more
details of their mine-laying experiences. Realising there was a ‘huge
omission’ in the history books, Bob wanted to know more about the
RAAF/US Navy mine-laying coalition: how it started and why, what the
objectives were and how successful the strategy was. Bob soon discovered
the evidence he sought was located in the National Archives and Records
Administration (NARA) in Maryland, not far from Washington, DC.
Between late 1945 and early 1946, all documentation about mine laying
was shipped to the United States, as it was the property of the US Navy
Seventh Fleet.
In February 2003, Bob took a sabbatical from Macquarie University to
visit Ivor Collins at his home in North Carolina, and NARA in Maryland.
Bob fondly recalled meeting Collins for the first time: ‘He was an unas-
suming person and very proud of his association with the RAAF/US
Navy mine-laying campaign. In fact, [because of] the stint he did with
the RAAF, Ivor told me he didn’t know if he was an Aussie or a Yank at
times . . . Like many who served in World War II, he was a citizen soldier
with a father who served in the Great War . . . It was a delight to know
Ivor and [his wife] Shirley.’
Collins shared a lot of technical information about the program, and
anecdotes from his time in Brisbane and Cairns. In later years, Bob would
return to visit Collins, and Collins would visit Australia. They would take
time out to travel to locations in Australia and the south-west Pacific
region where the RAAF operated. Collins wanted to see and talk about
how much the landscape had changed, while Bob listened and learned
what it was like all those years before. They shared many conversations
over the phone and via email but, as Bob remembered, ‘the best exchanges
were over Ivor’s favourite Scotch’.
After visiting Collins in 2003, Bob set off for NARA, hoping to find
flight logs and action reports giving the dates, locations and details of
each mission. The staff members were helpful, but a lot of the material
he requested was unavailable. He was shown some documents from the
period that had been catalogued; however, they weren’t what he was after.
Frustrated, Bob boarded the last bus back to his accommodation in
Washington, DC, before a predicted big snow dump. With the first snow-
flakes falling, Bob took his seat, wondering if he would ever find what
he was seeking. Just as the bus was about to set off, a man ran from the
archives building and jumped on board. The slightly dishevelled man sat
next to Bob, who commented, ‘You just made that.’ Bob’s accent caught
the man’s ear, and they began talking. The conversation turned to Bob’s
reason for being at NARA. The man appreciated Bob’s frustration and
told him, ‘Ask for me when you come back tomorrow . . . I think I can
help you.’
It turned out the man was NARA’s Chief Archivist, Steven Schafer.
He explained that not all the archive boxes from the Seventh Fleet had
been sorted. Some hadn’t even been opened since their arrival in late
1945 or early 1946. Schafer was more than happy for Bob to go through
them; however, there was a condition. Half-jokingly, Schafer told Bob he
could do so, provided ‘you catalogue the contents as you go’. It was a
mammoth task.
Over two weeks, while staying with a friend of Bob’s sister, Brenda Rosa,
at Twinbrook, close to NARA, Bob sorted through the pile of archival
boxes, going through document after document. Some of the boxes had
cigarette butts, food wrappings and empty beer bottles among the ‘top
secret’ communications. At least the sailors who packed the boxes had also
decided to send their rubbish home. Bob wasn’t alone in going through
the material. Schafer had ‘loaned’ Bob a staff member to help, Barry Zerby.
The two men cross-referenced the documents to match dates, information
and code names to specific locations. Unfortunately, some documents
were incomplete, while it appeared some were missing. Even so, the
information they unearthed revealed the sacrifice and achievements of
the RAAF Catalina crews, as well as the vital role they played in General
Douglas MacArthur’s strategic plan for the south-west Pacific campaign.
Between 22 April 1943 and 1 July 1945, the crews of the RAAF’s
Catalina 11, 20, 42 and 43 Squadrons conducted covert mine-laying
operations in the south and south-west Pacific to disrupt Japanese
naval movements, supplies and military operations, and to help block
merchant vessels from delivering raw materials to Japan. Commander-
in-Chief of the US Pacific Fleet Admiral Chester W. Nimitz and General
Douglas MacArthur understood mine laying would be an effective strat
egic weapon to stop the Japanese from supplying their forces and feeding
their war machine; it would, therefore, soften up the enemy for eventual
US Army and Marine landings. They were proved right.
Bob also discovered that during MacArthur’s campaign to regain the
Philippines, he had employed the Catalina squadrons to thwart Imperial
Japanese Navy attempts to supply their troops and attack the Seventh
Fleet’s amphibious forces. The operations were successful in protecting
the Seventh Fleet at Leyte Gulf and paving the way for MacArthur to
liberate the Philippine capital, Manila. Admiral Nimitz used the RAAF
Catalinas to lay mines as a tactical manoeuvre, bottling up Japanese Navy
and merchant ships in harbours, or preventing their access to safe waters,
ensuring that the vessels were sitting ducks for Allied submarine and
air attacks.
Bob would also learn neither the Australians nor the Americans led
the secret operations; rather, they were a true coalition between the
two countries, between the RAAF and the US Navy Seventh Fleet. Each
brought its own expertise, and they worked together on strategies to
hamper Japanese supply routes.
Despite the 30-year rule for the release of classified information,
operations remained secret for over 60 years. In addition to former crews
being restricted in what they could say—and the fact the documents were
held by the US Navy—earlier historians tended to concentrate on the
more spectacular RAAF contributions in Europe during World War II.
Therefore, the work of the RAAF Catalinas in coalition with the US Navy
became absorbed into the US records as ‘Allied’ actions. Similar treatment
had been given to Australian, New Zealand and Canadian achievements
in World War I.
There is no doubt Bob’s research in 2003 revealed a little known yet
crucial and courageous chapter in Australia’s air-war history. And, in
memory of Warrant Officer Reg Cleworth and all those who were part
of the RAAF/US Navy mine-laying coalition, this story needs to be told.
The Pacific War started when Japan attacked the US naval base at Pearl
Harbor on 7 December 1941. Well before then, Japan’s entry into World
War II appeared inevitable. It had already signed a pact with the Axis
powers, Germany and Italy, and, after invading China in 1937, it had
moved against French Indochina (today’s Vietnam) in 1940 to close the
route by which the United States was supplying China. The United States
and Britain protested, seizing Japan’s assets, depriving the country of
copper, iron and other essential raw materials, and laying an oil embargo
upon it. Without access to oil, Japan relied on its reserves for civilian and
military consumption. It was estimated these reserves would only last
around two years. Japan had already planned, beyond China, to execute
its Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere as part of its ‘divine right’ to
unify Asia under Emperor Hirohito’s rule. Given the situation, one of
its main targets was to secure the rich oil fields in the South West Pacific
Area (SWPA).
[T]he best defence is offence . . . offence in those war areas where the
enemy actually is, remote even though they are far from Continental
US . . . it is offence which will keep the enemy engaged and occupied
to such an extent that he cannot gather the means to make any serious
threat to Continental US.
King hoped to keep the Japanese busy in the central and western Pacific
areas—too busy to establish a solid foothold or to launch any incursions
into the United States or against its Pacific allies.
Nine hours after Pearl Harbor, in yet another surprise attack, the IJN
Air Service began a raid on the Philippines, destroying the majority
of the US aircraft on the ground. Commanding the US Army Forces
in the Far East was General Douglas MacArthur. By the end of December,
the Japanese had taken Guam and Wake Island. One of the few places
in the South Pacific where the Japanese were met with resistance was in
the Philippines. In spite of efforts by the US Army, its infantry and
tank corps, and Filipino militia, the Japanese landing forces advanced.
President Roosevelt ordered MacArthur to evacuate. On the night of
12 March 1942, MacArthur fled Corregidor, a small island in Manila
Bay, and was flown to Australia, to become Supreme Commander of
the SWPA of Operations. At Terowie railway station in South Australia,
on 20 March, MacArthur addressed the waiting media and proclaimed,
‘I came through and I shall return.’
The Philippines held out until 6 May, when US Army Lieutenant
General Jonathan Wainwright, who’d taken overall command after
MacArthur’s departure, officially surrendered to the Japanese. Under
Japanese occupation the Filipinos would suffer greatly. Throughout
the war, however, guerrilla tactics would be employed by the homeland
militias to harass and prevent the Japanese from taking full control of the
Philippines. Militias would also support Allied Special Forces—including
Australia’s Z Special Unit—that were sent in to gather intelligence and
perform sabotage operations.
The British colonies of Hong Kong and Malaya, as well as the Nether-
lands (Dutch) East Indies, were under Japanese control by 25 December
1941, 31 January and 8 March 1942, respectively. Also, by the end of
January, Rabaul on the island of New Britain had been taken, with over
1000 Australian soldiers captured. Rabaul was significant because of its
proximity to the Caroline Islands, where the main IJN base had been set
up on Truk Lagoon. The Japanese would use Rabaul as their headquarters,
directing operations in the SWPA.
Singapore surrendered on 15 February. Winston Churchill called the
Singapore defeat ‘the worst disaster and largest capitulation in British
history’. British losses during the fighting for Singapore were heavy, with
60,000 troops and nearly 25,000 support personnel captured. About
5000 people were killed or wounded, of which Australians made up the
majority.
Five months into the Pacific War, the United States struck back in
retribution for Pearl Harbor. Sixteen US Army Air Force B-25B Mitchell
medium bombers were modified so they could be launched from the
aircraft carrier USS Hornet. The Doolittle Raid, named after its lead pilot,
Lieutenant Colonel James ‘Jimmy’ Doolittle, called for the B-25Bs to
bomb military targets in Japan, and to continue westward to land in
China. In the raid, around 50 Japanese military personnel and civil-
ians were killed, and a further 400 were injured. Militarily, the bombing
had little effect, but it would have psychological consequences for
both the Allies and the Japanese. While the raid was a morale booster
for the Americans, it only served as a propaganda tool for the Japanese.
It angered the Japanese people and made them even more resolved to
defeat the Americans. After the raid, the Imperial Japanese Army (IJA)
swept the eastern coastal provinces of China, searching for the surviving
American airmen. The IJA inflicted severe punishments on any Chinese
people who were found to have aided the airmen.
By this time, Australia had been at war against the European Axis
powers for over two years. The closest the war had come to Australian
shores, before any Japanese threat, was when the German raider HSK
Kormoran sank HMAS Sydney off the coast of Western Australia in
November 1941. All crew members on the Sydney were lost, but the pride
of the Royal Australian Navy (RAN) had inflicted severe damage on the
Kormoran, and it was scuttled. Just over 300 German sailors were then
captured and interned in a POW camp in Australia.
Meanwhile, four divisions of the AIF had been sent to North Africa,
fighting with British and other Commonwealth forces against Italy and
Germany. RAN vessels were sent to support Royal Navy (RN) opera-
tions in the Atlantic and Mediterranean. Australian airmen, having been
trained under the Empire Air Training Scheme, were posted to England,
where they served under the Royal Air Force (RAF) either in Fighter, Coastal
or Bomber Commands. Likewise, some RAAF-only fighter and bomber
squadrons were formed and operated in North Africa, and then went on
to serve during the Allied invasion of Italy.
Like the United States, Australia had known it would only be a matter
of time before Japan entered the war; Australian politicians and military
officials believed that when Japan struck, it would pose an immedi-
ate threat to Australia. Therefore, in 1942, the Australian Government
requested the return of the AIF. All divisions returned except for the
9th Division, which would remain in North Africa until the end of
the conflict there in January 1943.
In 1940, Australia had taken delivery of 18 Consolidated PBY
seaplanes—later more commonly known as Catalinas—under the US
Lend Lease Agreement. Initially these planes were destined to be patrol
aircraft, keeping watch over Australia’s surrounding seas and oceans.
Once the Japanese thrust south began, however, the PBYs were quickly
utilised as heavy bombers against enemy shipping and land-based targets.
Two Catalina squadrons, 11 and 20, were established and stationed
initially in Port Moresby, New Guinea, to act as a forward-warning base.
In 1941, both army and RAAF personnel were sent to man and protect
the area. Keith Pinson was an airframe engineer and, later, air gunner
with 20 Squadron. Stationed in Port Moresby from November 1941,
he recollected, ‘It was obvious that Port Moresby was Australia’s most
important northern base. Along the wharves and in the harbour, small
and large cargo vessels of various types were gently swinging at their
moorings. They seemed to move similar to horses tied to a hitching rail
and presented an idyllic and peaceful scene.’
That idyllic scene would abruptly end with the Japanese advance.
While New Guinea offered the Japanese some precious metals and
food supplies, they mostly viewed Port Moresby as a strategic defensive
location. Taking Port Moresby, and Milne Bay to its east, would mean
the Japanese would have a protective barrier, should the Allies launch
an offensive towards the Philippines or the East Indies. It would also, as
Admiral King had feared, cut communications between Australia and
Hawaii. Of course, some in Australia saw Japan’s attempt to take New
Guinea as a step towards an invasion of Australia. The issue of whether
Japan ever seriously considered invading Australia continues to be
debated.
In January 1942, Japanese aircraft began bombing Port Moresby. ‘Our
peaceful resting place was not for long,’ Keith Pinson lamented. ‘The
sporadic but constant raids by silvery Japanese bombers saw to that.
Their aircraft were not camouflaged as ours were, they could be seen
quite clearly in perfect formation against a lovely blue sky. They realised
that the weight of two or three coats of paint would make a difference to
an aircraft’s performance, especially on their lightly constructed Zeros.’
Pinson continued:
It was a sad day for Moresby when Jap fighters swooped around the
north-eastern headland and lined up five Cats, destroying two and
badly damaging a third. They were in a row at anchor on the far side
of the harbour. During the raid, a fitter Armourer working on the guns
of one of the Catalinas was able to fire off a few rounds but without
result. Barney Ross, a Marine fitter, was lucky that a bullet hitting him
lower down wasn’t a little higher, and sadly, George Nancarrow, an
Electrician working on another aircraft, was killed.
It wasn’t only the Japanese with whom the RAAF had to contend.
From the outset, in early 1942, the American airmen had a reputation for
shooting first and asking questions later. There isn’t a better example of
this than when a pilot of a US Navy Grumman F4F Wildcat shot down
a Catalina. As Flying Officer Ivan Clempson recalled, ‘Our one-time
Commanding Officer, Mike Seymour, was coming in to alight at a US base
when an eager-beaver US pilot shot at him . . . Mike was badly injured at
the time, but he did recover.’
There was a simple, somewhat excusable but near deadly reason for
the friendly fire. All aircraft in service with the RAAF, prior to and at the
start of the war, were marked with the British insignia, called the roun-
del—a red inner circle, inside a white circle, which was surrounded by
an outer blue ring. In 1942, the US pilot, obviously not familiar with
the British roundel, mistook the red centre for the Japanese ‘sun-mark’,
officially known as Nisshōki but commonly referred to as Hinomaru. The
Japanese used a full red circle as their insignia or roundel.
A similar incident happened in March when the first RAAF fighter
unit, 75 Squadron, attempted to land their Lend Lease Curtiss P-40E
Kittyhawks at Port Moresby. The Kittyhawks had been promised for so
long that their arrival had become a running joke among the crews at
Port Moresby, and the planes were nicknamed ‘Never-hawks’. As Keith
Pinson remembered:
No one had ever seen a Kittyhawk before then, and the ground crews
mistook the strange planes for Japanese aircraft because they had noticed
the red centre of the roundel. Because of these two incidents, the RAAF
quickly painted over the red centre, and the Australian roundel officially
became a large white full circle within a blue ring.
The first major setback Japanese forces experienced in their move
south was the Battle of the Coral Sea, 4–8 May 1942, to the east of the
Great Barrier Reef, off North Queensland. Catalinas from 11 and 20
Squadron played a pivotal role in identifying the Japanese fleet as
it steamed towards New Guinea. US code breakers had cracked enemy
communica-tions early in the war; intercepted communiqués
confirmed the Japanese had sent a task force to take Port Moresby.
Its whereabouts, however, weren’t clear. RAAF Catalinas were then
scrambled to search for the IJN Task Force.
The Japanese had sent a number of naval forces: one to take and
hold the island of Tulagi, part of the British Solomon Islands
Protectorate; the Port Moresby invasion force; and a carrier strike force
to give aerial cover for the invasion. All groups set off from different
locations, and the latter two planned to rendezvous off the east coast
of New Guinea, then sail together to Port Moresby.
As recorded by the RAAF Pathfinders history magazine in 2008: