Clive Sippe was born in Sydney to Charles Henry Sippe and Emma (nee Chambers). There were three sons and a daughter of the marriage and two of the sons became doctors. His mother had many ecclesiastic relatives including the Right Reverend GA Chambers, Bishop of Tanganyika and of Paris, who subsequently was the founder of Trinity Grammar School, Sydney. Because of this relationship Clive carried the nickname of `Bish'. He was a remarkable student for his age and was obliged to repeat his leaving certificate since he was too young to attend university after passing the examination for the first time. He won a university scholarship and graduated in 1926 with first-class honours. After two years as RMO at Sydney Hospital he went to London and obtained the MRCP in 1929. He returned to Australia where he joined the newly-formed Brisbane Clinic at the invitation of Jarvis Nye. Clive was always a keen sailor and fisherman and on a boat trip in Moreton Bay he met the tiny, sparkling, vivacious Dorothy Dixon who became his wife.

He was initially an honorary physician at the Brisbane General Hospital and when the system changed from part-time to salaried visiting staff, was appointed one of the four senior physicians. During the whole of his professional life he was actively involved in teaching and writing and he and John Bostock collaborated in work on bromide intoxication and hypoglycaemia, with numerous publications.

He joined the Second AIF and served on the hospital ship Manunda where he was wounded at the time of the bombing of Darwin Harbour in February, 1942. On return to civil practice in 1945 he was severely incapacitated by a back problem and chronic dysentery. He was also suffering from hypertension and this led to his untimely death. At the time of his death his children were aged seven and three. His son, Richard, became a psychiatrist practising in Sydney and his daughter, Elizabeth, a teacher.

Clive Sippe had a constant interest in medicine and his whole life revolved around it. His widow recalled that even when they were fishing, if the fish were not biting too well, Clive would pull out of his pocket a medical journal and sit with the line in one hand and the journal in the other. He was remembered by his contemporary colleagues as a very human man with a deep dedication to the art and science of medicine.