In our first video on the worst jobs of the Great War, we looked at four examples, but
the dangerous and hardships did not end there. In this video, we're going to take a look
at an additional four jobs you wouldn't want to have been assigned in the First World War.
Better have changed your socks since that last one, troopers. You'll likely be needing
all your toes.
Hitting the ground running, we've got the military couriers, or runners, of the First
World War. Back in the early 1900s, field telephones were commonplace in the military,
but they were unreliable and prone to damage. Radio existed too, but it was largely considered
insecure for use on the frontline, and while carrier pigeons and flares had their uses,
they had their limitations too. And so, good old word of mouth prevailed, and soldiers
unfortunate enough to be fit and healthy were often tasked with the duty of storing messages
in their brain and delivering them on foot. While jogging and other forms of physical
exercise in themselves suck, this was by no means the worst part of the job. Like sentries
and radio operators, runners were targeted by the enemy, and as veteran Lieutenant Allan
L. Dexter put it, "[...] It was merely a question of how long [you] would last before being
wounded or killed." While runners could follow friendly trench systems in some instances,
cover like this wasn't always available, and zigzagging through the trenches wasn't always
the most efficient way to get a message across. As such, there were plenty of opportunities
for a runner to get shot or ambushed, and due to a need to travel light, they often
carried little more than a pistol in the way of self defence. Often more than one runner
would be sent out too, and each would use a different path, as that way, as American
Sargent put it, "one at least will be certain to arrive."
British Colonel Lord Feversham volunteered as a runner in the First World War. At one
point, he was given a message and instructed, "There is no room to pass along the trench,
so you must run along the top. You'll probably be killed, but you must go." But Feversham
survived, and in another briefing he was told, if necessary, he was to shoot five Germans
and then himself; he was then fed whisky and sent on his way.
British Private James Miller was a runner too, and he gave his life delivering his final
message. Miller's act of bravery was featured in the London Gazette, which read: "Private
Miller was ordered to take an important message under heavy shell and rifle fire, and to bring
back a reply at all costs. He was compelled to cross the open, and on leaving the trench
was shot almost immediately in the back [...] In spite of this, [...] he compressed the gaping
wound, delivered his message, staggered back with his answer, and fell dead at the feet
of the officer to whom he delivered it."
While runners were among the most agile units on the battlefield, tanks were perhaps the
slowest. The technology just wasn't quite there yet, and the armour of the Great War
was not all that armoured and about as comfortable as stepping on Lego. It's for these reasons
that being a tank crewman was one of the worst jobs available. Tanks were employed to break
the stagnation of trench warfare, designed to crawl over trenches and barbed wire more
than engage other tanks. Early tanks were incredibly slow, boasting a speed of as low
as four kilometres per hour, and they could even be penetrated by small arms fire, grenades,
and mortars. While spalling wasn't a major concern, bullet splash was, and crewman were
provided goggles and chainmail masks to counter this; however, these limited their ability
to see and breathe, and were seldom worn. The threats didn't end there, though. Gas
fumes from the tank's guns crept into the tank, poisoning its crew, and the tank's working
parts — notably its engine — quickly got red hot, making an oven of the interior. The
machinery was also deafeningly loud, and there was no suspension nor anywhere to strap in.
Crewmen were literally bounced around inside the tank. On top of this, the vehicles had
terrible control, and they frequently broke down.
Richard Smith, director of the Tank Museum in Bovington expressed his opinions about
First World War tanks: "[The engine is in the] middle and it kind of glows red-hot,
you’re cooking, it leaks carbon monoxide merrily into the crew compartment so you get
gassed [...] You feel every impact of everything, it goes through everything."
A veteran known only as A. Reiffer described the conditions inside his tank: "[...] There
was a terrific amount of noise in the tank made up by the engine, the tracks, and the
tumbling about of [...] the various things [inside]." Reiffer also recalled a specific
situation in which he was fired on by German machine guns: "[...] The impact of their bullets
was making the inside of the armour plate white hot and the white-hot flakes were coming
off and if you happened to be near enough you could have been blinded by them."
One Lieutenant Vic Huffam recalled a situation in which a tank in his unit became stuck:
[...] He attempted to cross a disused support trench and as he crossed it, [...] the parapet
crumbled beneath him. His tail end or his back side of the tank disappeared into the
trench. [...]." Huffman tried to tow the tank out, but in doing so, his own tank became
tangled with it, and they were locked together.
The destruction of a tank was one thing, but to see a Zeppelin airship go down would have
been terrifying indeed. Imagine, then, how their crewmen would have felt. During World
War I, Germany used Zeppelins for reconnaissance operations and as bombers, and while they
weren't so effective in strategic bombing missions overall (being rather inaccurate),
they caused some damage in raids on London, and they certainly had a psychological impact
on the British population. Of course, Zeppelins were little more than glorified party balloons,
and the British quickly learnt how to counter them from the ground and air, exploiting explosive
and incendiary rounds and their interaction with helium. Flying higher to avoid British
defences, Zeppelin crewmen suffered from the extreme cold and altitude sickness, and the
Zeppelins themselves had to carry smaller payloads and strike from greater distances,
rendering them less effective. Zeppelins were also prone to mechanical failures, and they
were useless in a bit of wind. Due to the weight of early 1900s parachutes, the crew
weren't provided any, and so there was literally no way off the Zeppelin that didn't involve
skydiving. When Zeppelins were hit and turned into plummeting columns of hellfire, crewmen
had to decided if they would jump or burn alive. Overall, 66% of German Zeppelins in
the Great War were shot down or disabled, and the casualty rate of Zeppelin of German
airship crew was around 40%. The horror of a Zeppelin death, however, is best expressed
through the eyes of the people who saw it.
British reporter Michael MacDonagh witnessed the death of a Zeppelin on the 1st of October
1916: "[...] The Zeppelin drifted perpendicularly in the darkened sky, a gigantic pyramid of
flames, red and orange, like a ruined star falling slowly to earth. [...] It was so horribly
fascinating that I felt spellbound - almost suffocated with emotion [...]. One body was
found in the field some distance from the wreckage. He must have jumped [...] from a
considerable height. So great was the force with which he struck the ground that I saw
the imprint of his body clearly defined in the stubbly grass."
Another reporter described the fall of another Zeppelin: "[...] The blazing airship swung
round, [...] then the burning end dipped, the flames ran up the whole structure as her
petrol tanks one after another caught fire. [...] So tremendous was the blaze and so intense
the light that she seemed to be an immense incandescent mantle at white heat and enveloped
in flame [...]. She struck the earth with a crash that could be heard for miles."
We mentioned horses when we discussed runners, but now it's time to expand on that, as cavalry
were used to some effect in the Great War, and those poor horses were military personnel
too. At the start of the war, cavalry were perceived as an essential component of warfare,
filling the shock tactics role claimed later by tanks. As the war progressed, more and
more cavalry charges succumbed to machine guns, mortars, artillery, poison gas, trenches,
and barbed wire, and they became less and less prevalent. But by no means were they
abandoned. Overall, cavalry were far more effective on the Eastern Front than the Western
Front, in open spaces and against less technologically advanced opponents, and hundreds of thousands
of horses died throughout the war, with around 25% perishing in battle. Many horses, however,
didn't see battle, employed for logistical support instead, and a great number of them
died from disease and exhaustion.
About his loyal steed Warrior, British General Jack Seely said, "He had to endure everything
most hateful to him – violent noise, the bursting of great shells and bright flashes
at night, when the white light of bursting shells must have caused violent pain to such
sensitive eyes as horses possess. Above all, the smell of blood, terrifying to every horse."
Lieutenant Mercer survived the cavalry charge at Huj, Palestine on the 8th of November 1917;
he recalled the following: "Machine guns and rifles opened up on us the moment we topped
the rise behind which we had formed up. A whole heap of men and horses went down 20
or 30 yards from the muzzles of the guns. The squadron broke into a few scattered horsemen
at the guns and seemed to melt away completely."
Well, I'm not a horse, so I can't much speak for that last one, but out of the terrible
jobs of the First World War we covered in this video and the video before, I have to
say that trench raiding still takes the cake. But which job do you think would have sucked
the most? Are there any we've missed? Please share your thoughts in the comments.