Whether it’s those awful early morning alarms, that painfully slow commute, or that painstaking water cooler chat you’ve got to have with your boss, you may think you’ve got the toughest job in the world. But as bad as your job may be, it doesn’t even come close to some of the gut-wrenching occupations that soldiers took up back in World War One. From going into battle with nothing more than a bicycle, to catching rats with their bare hands, here are some of the worst jobs you could be assigned in World War One.
No Man's Land Wiring Parties
Some of the most recognizable images from World War One depict the barbed wire covered grounds of No Man’s Land. But that sharp stuff didn’t just get there by itself. Instead, laying down barbed wire was the job of wiring parties. And despite the name, this role was nothing to celebrate!
Groups of soldiers would venture into No Man’s Land at night, repairing their damaged barbed wire obstacles, as well as cutting the enemy’s defenses. For starters, these sharp coiling wires would have no trouble slicing through a soldier’s skin, which are twice as hard to spot in the pitch black with minimal light to see by. Painful as that would be, they couldn’t make a sound, as the slightest noise could trigger a swarm of machine gun fire and artillery to descend upon a wiring party. But it wasn’t just the fear of being heard.
Wiring parties also ran the risk of being illuminated by an enemy flare, exposing their position right under the noses of the opposition! Men caught by flares would either throw themselves down onto the barbed wire, or freeze until the flare light dimmed.
The toils of a wiring party didn’t end there, though. If these guys were lucky enough to survive their mission, they also had the terrifying task of finding their way back to their trench in the dead of night. Given the pitch-black conditions it wasn’t uncommon for these guys to end up far away from their base! And you thought the commute home from work was bad!
Artillery Observer
You’d presume anyone 6,000 feet up in the air would be a lot safer than anyone stuck in the middle of No Man’s Land. But an artillery observer probably wouldn't agree with that. These men were stationed in an observation balloon, hovering at high altitudes to monitor enemy troop movements. Flying more than a mile over the battlefield meant enemies on the ground had little chance of accurately shooting down artillery observers. It’s just as well, that’d be a nasty way to go!
However, they faced another threat: aircraft! By 1915, aircraft began attacking artillery observers, or "roasting sausages" as they called it, due to the balloons strange shape. Commonly, rockets were shot out of the planes, before colliding with the hydrogen-powered balloons, triggering a giant explosion that’d most likely take down anyone inside with it. Willy Coppens, a particularly accomplished "roaster", was so prolific, he shot down a whopping 34 artillery observer balloons.
In the event of disaster, observation balloons contained parachutes, allowing anyone inside to safely descend down to ground. That sounds all well and good, but there was always the threat of strong winds blowing parachuters into enemy territory. And, considering this is war we’re talking about, enemy troops wouldn't mind taking down a foreign parachuter descending towards their lines.
Air Force Pilot
Speaking of high-flyers, that brings us to the job of airplane pilots. By the time World War One came around, airplanes were still very much in their infancy, with the first aircraft taking flight just over 10 years before the outbreak of war. As a result, airplane designs during this time were basic to say the least.
The wooden made aircraft, had an exposed cockpit, leaving pilots vulnerable to cold conditions and low oxygen at altitude. On top of that, there were no designated navigational aids. Instead, pilots had to do with whatever maps they could find, and would even hover close to railway lines, hoping to read station names.
In the early days of the war, aircraft were used to monitor movement of enemy troops. But as the benefits of these "eyes in the sky" became evident, both sides knew they had to take steps to prevent the opposition from gaining the upper-hand. Being the brutal conflict it was, World War One aircraft pilots sometimes faced the danger of being gunned down by enemy troops and tanks on the ground. However, these guys encountered an even more frequent threat. Pilots often flew with a pistol, rifle, and even bricks to attack the enemy at close range. Can you imagine getting smacked in the face by a brick while you’re trying to drive some creaky plane thousands of feet in the air? Terrified isn’t the word!
So hazardous was this job that 8,000 men in Britain’s Royal Flying Corps perished during their 15 hours of pilot training alone! If that wasn’t harrowing enough, the average life expectancy of a Royal Flying Corps pilot was a measly 18 airborne hours! Safe to say the job of pilots in World War One was just plane dangerous!
Sentry Duty
World War One became infamous for No Man’s Land, with soldiers quickly discovering that crossing this stretch was essentially a death wish. Part of the reason for this was sentries. These were troops charged with standing on the raised step of the trench to keep an eye out for the enemy, alerting their superiors if they saw any suspicious activity.
It was for this reason that sentries were a high-value target for opposition troops. But, surprising as it sounds, sentries had a greater threat than the enemy: their own commanders! This job was limited to two hour shifts, meaning a soldier could be stationed on sentry duty in the middle of the night. Despite the dark, cold and lonely work, they needed to stay alert and vigilant, in case of an enemy attack. As such, falling asleep on station was a crime punishable by execution. In 1915 New Zealand soldier, Jack Dunn, came down with pneumonia while on the front. After two weeks of treatment, he returned to his unit where he was discovered by an officer to have fallen asleep while on sentry duty. Despite his bout with illness,
Dunn was sentenced to death. Though his ‘crime’ was later remitted to 10 years of hard labor, that’s still pretty harsh for a quick 40 winks!
Trench Raiders
As we now know with sentries, barbed wire and observation artillery overhead, crossing No Man’s Land was a no-go! Not that trench raiders cared about any of that. If you didn’t know, trench raiders were teams of courageous men, tasked with infiltrating the enemy’s line in order to kill defenders, destroy weapons, gain intelligence, or return prisoners.
Small groups of lightly equipped trench raiders would carefully creep towards their target under the cover of night. Typically, the raiders would approach the sentries guarding the front line trench, before taking them out as quietly as possible. Then, the real mission started. Once they gained access to the trench, the raiders would complete whatever mission objectives they set out as quickly as possible. If they did happen to run into the enemy, that’s when the bayonet, trench knives, knuckled dusters and spiked clubs came out, because gunshots would draw attention, so brutal face-to-face combat ensued.
When any of the surviving raiders had achieved their objective, they let off their grenades, hoping the chaos could buy them enough time to make it back to their trench before being shot down. I’m getting sweaty just thinking about how much effort this took!
Tank Crewman
What could be safer than roaming the battlefield in a near 30-ton heavily armored mega-machine? Well, turns out, a lot! For starters, their enormous size and weight meant that tanks were incredibly slow-moving, at best achieving a measly top-speed of just 5 mph! That made tanks very easy targets for enemy troops who could shoot them, or worse, plant land mines under the tanks tracks, sending the vehicle and everyone inside flying.
Though you’d presume tanks would at least offer some protection to its crew, they were poorly armored during World War One. That meant a single bullet could penetrate the exterior and send sharp shrapnel flying around inside! Another rudimentary feature of early tanks was their engine design. They were large and inefficient, which meant they got very hot, very quickly! Even worse, engines were often placed in the center of the tank, meaning any crew that fell onto the engine’s exhaust could be fatally scalded! And, unfortunately for the crew, falling onto the engine was a very real risk. These colossal machines had to travel over boggy battlefields filled with ditches and trenches. And, with no suspension or seat belts, the crew inside were thrown around inside like pinballs.
Bicycle Brigade
Despite all the drawbacks of manning a tank, there’s one vehicle that offered even less protection to anyone that used it. Can you imagine moving through the battlefields of World War One on a bicycle? Crazy as it sounds, bicycles were commonplace in the war. In fact, some entire battalions only had cyclists in their ranks.
Whereas horses required food and motor vehicles needed fuel, bicycles were human powered and easy to maintain, leading to their use in transporting troops and supplies. As well as that, some bike battalions even fought on the front line. Take the
100 Day Offensive in 1918 for instance. Here, Canadian cyclists fought alongside the infantry. Noble as that sounds, a bicycle cavalry probably wouldn't stand much chance against artillery fire and tanks! Also, those handlebars aren’t gonna offer much protection from incoming bullets! On the bright side, at least they could ring their bell when they inevitably run into trouble!
Tin Openers
While World War One is known for its brutal trench warfare, there were also some perilous professions out at sea. Opposing submarines battled it out to take charge of Europe’s seas. And the surge of sunken submarines opened up an opportunity.
Each wrecked sub was a potential treasure chest, full of the latest cypher keys, codebooks and other high-intelligence material. The question is, how could they gain access to a sunken submarine? That’s where the "Tin Openers" come in. This
secret unit of 5 divers were responsible for diving down and cutting their way into recently sunken submarine wrecks to obtain any useful information.
Exciting as these missions sound, they were extremely dangerous. In fact, the work was so hazardous, each man’s family was promised £500, that’s $60,000 today, were the worst to happen. The reason being, Tin Openers tended to dive in were active minefields. Though the divers would steer clear of mines at all costs, even those that exploded several miles away, could rupture diver’s ears, damage their internal organs and kill them! When it came to accessing the sunken subs, Tin Openers would use an underwater explosive to open the wreck. It was efficient, but it was also dangerous, with some detonations setting off secondary explosions that could kill the divers. If the diver survived the initial explosion, they’d enter the wreck. But this presented another problem. Tin Openers were connected to the surface by a lifeline and air hose. If these got tangled up in the wreckage, or worse, cut completely, there’d have little hope of them ever returning to the surface.
And the cherry on top of this cursed cake, Tin Openers also had the gruesome task of clambering through the corpses on-board as they looked for any valuable information. Miraculously, all 5 of the men in the Tin Openers unit survived the war, although they probably would never ever be able to look at a tin of soup ever again!
Tunnellers
Speaking of risky work under the surface, that brings us to the WW1 tunnellers. For years, both sides were camped in trenches on the Western Front. So, in an attempt to break the stalemate, specialist miners were employed on both sides to dig tunnels under No Man’s Land.
The objective was to place mines beneath enemy defensive positions. When detonated, the explosion would destroy a section of enemy trench, giving the infantry a chance to advance amidst the confusion. The tricky bit was digging these tunnels in the first place. With some plummeting down well over 100 feet and stretching as far as 2,000 feet across, it could take up to a year to carve these tunnels out. So, that’d mean a whole year of tunnellers digging day and night. And to rub salt into the wounds, the tunnels were dark, cold and tight, with tunnellers either hunched over or crawling on their hands and knees through the thick clay.
Even worse, was the threat of the enemy. When two opposing tunnels met, a brutal face-to-face combat would follow, with miners using shovels, daggers, and anything else they could get their hands on to bludgeon the enemy. Terrifyingly, each side would also use counter mines in an attempt to blow up rival tunnels, and in the process entomb any tunnellers beneath piles of earth. Yet the biggest threat to tunnellers was something they couldn’t see, carbon monoxide, a colorless, odorless, poisonous gas. After an explosive action, like detonating a counter mine, or even firing a bullet, carbon monoxide would fill the air. With the tunnels being poorly ventilated and tight, this sinister stuff could spread quickly. And, considering that air concentrated with over 1% carbon monoxide leads to death in less than 3 minutes, those don’t sound like ideal working conditions.
Fortunately, some
tunnellers had a savior. It’s Proto-Man. These heroes, who donned special breathing equipment to allow them to inhale pure oxygen, were sent on underground rescue missions to retrieve any ailing miners. Life-saving as they may’ve been, it's hard to think of many things more nightmarish than waking up 100 feet underground to the sight of a Proto Man right in front of me! Even getting rescued as a World War One tunneller was terrifying!
Munitionettes
Heroic as the tunnellers work was, none of it would’ve been possible without the help of women hundreds of miles away. More specifically, women back in Britain who worked in munitions factories, where they produced bullets, shells and explosives.
While working in a munitions factory doesn’t sound like a walk in the park, you’d think it’d be a lot safer than what soldiers on the front line had to go through. Well, think again! For starters, female workers, nicknamed, "munitionettes", would work grueling 12 hour shifts, yet the long hours were the least of their concerns.
These women often worked with TNT, or trinitrotoluene. Prolonged exposure to the nitric acid used in this process turned worker’s skin yellow. Aside from the curious coloration, habitually handling this stuff can also lead to skin irritation, liver failure, and kidney damage. On several occasions, the explosives that women were working with ignited, blowing entire factories to pieces.
In 1918, one such incident occurred at a shell filling factory in Nottingham, England, tragically killing more than 130 workers. In fact, working conditions were so brutal, many factory workers wore tags so their bodies could be identified in the event of any unfortunate accidents.
Rat Catcher
Whether it was the muddy, waterlogged terrain that led to trench foot, the poor hygiene, or the cold, cramped conditions, the trenches certainly weren’t a place you wanted to hang about in. Yet arguably, the worst aspect of trench life was the sheer amount of rats that ran riot here.
Millions of oversized rats, bloated and boldened by the food and waste of stationary armies were a major pest. Reportedly, the rats grew so big and bold they’d even chew a wounded soldier to their end. These terrors would also gnaw through wiring and food, as well as spread diseases like typhus and trench fever.
The simple solution would be to shoot rats on site. However, ammunition was limited, so firing at these rodents was prohibited. So, rat-catching dogs were used to hunt down the pests, as well as some unlucky soldiers. Using bayonets, and sometimes even their own hands, troops on the front line did all they could to
reduce the rat problem. There aren't too many things more sobering than clambering through mud to get your hands on a rat that’s been keeping you up for weeks. Undesirable as rat-catching sounds, men were at least paid for every rat they killed. One particular soldier disposed of a whopping 8,000 rats in a fortnight, and at half-a-penny a rat, he earned £16, which is about $3,000 today! Regardless of how much cash rat catchers pocketed, those thoughts of clambering after the rodents through the mud would probably fuel their nightmares for years to come.
Stretcher Bearer
On the battlefield, troops weren’t permitted to stop and care for any of their fallen comrades. Instead, that job fell to stretcher bearers. These tended to be non-combatant soldiers who were prepared to enlist for their country, but couldn’t face shooting the enemy. While stretcher bearers may’ve adopted a peaceful position, their job was anything but. Typically, there were only 4 stretcher bearers for every 200 men.
Considering that some 6000 soldiers perished and a further 18,000 were injured per day during the war, these men had their work cut out for them. In good conditions, two men could carry a wounded man to safety. But, considering that World War One is known for its swampy, muddy fields and giant craters, that was a rarity. After periods of heavy rain it took as many as 6 men to carry a stretcher across muddy fields. Can you imagine lugging an soldier across a swampy bog, all while your boots are getting dragged into the squelch? But not only was the work exhausting, it was also treacherous. As stretcher bearers were responsible for immediately removing wounded soldiers, they were caught in the thick of the action. So, unsurprisingly, plenty of these guys were caught under enemy fire, as they were trying to carry their comrades to safety. Things got so perilous that one unit of 48 stretcher bearers suffered a staggering 42 casualties! This was certainly one of the war’s worst jobs.
Runner
But stretcher bearers weren’t the only ones with a physically exhausting workload. During the war, armies needed to communicate messages between units. But by the early 20th century, wireless communication was still pretty primitive. The most reliable means of communication was humans. To be more specific, runners.
Runners were low-ranking corporal officers, chosen for their fitness, stamina and map-reading ability. But it wasn’t just long distances that runners had to travel. They also had to pass through barbed wire, dodge through water-filled craters and of course, avoid being blown up by enemy fire.
In 1917, one runner was responsible for delivering a message to a British machine-gun position in No Man’s Land. Yet, traveling in the dark, he lost his way. Even worse, German forces spotted him and sent up a flare, illuminating his position before they started shelling him. After being bombarded, the runner was buried alive, with just his head sticking out the mud. When the runner was eventually pulled out of the earth he was in a state of shock, remembering nothing for the next day. Turns out that guy was one of the lucky ones! World War veteran, Lieutenant Allan Dexter said: "With a runner, it was merely a question of how long he would last."
Flamethrower Operator
Flamethrowers. Incendiary devices designed to blast out a jet-stream of fire. Sound pretty badass, so you’d think any flamethrower operators from World War One would be well-equipped to burn their way through whatever stood in their way. However, these guys had one of the least desirable jobs of the war.
Around 1914 when the war first broke out, modern flamethrowers were a new invention. As a result, these models were pretty clunky and clumsy. Due to the flamethrowers’ chunky size, operators were slow moving, making them prime targets for enemy snipers and artillery. And, as you can imagine a bullet hitting a flammable tank of liquid didn’t gonna end too well. British officer, Philip Christison, saw it happen with his own eyes: "The round hit the flame-thrower and with a scream the man collapsed in a sheet of flame." That's a job that fires you, literally!
Naval Minesweepers
As we’ve already seen about the work of Tin Openers, Europe’s seas during World War One were full of naval mines. In the North Sea alone there were some 235,000 of them! And, it was naval minesweepers who had the unenviable job of clearing up these ticking time-bombs.
Large trawlers would head out to sea and ‘sweep’ mines using wired nets, before bringing them to surface. When it came to defusing the mines, you’d think these guys would be as delicate as possible. Nope, World War One was a lot more metal than that. Instead, minesweepers would detonate any discovered mines by shooting at them! Let’s just hope anyone shooting at these mines gave themselves enough room to avoid being blasted into fish food!
Predictably, these minesweeping trawlers couldn’t always avoid bumping into them. In 1915, HMS Trawler Agamemnon was one of the unlucky ones, as the vessel collided with a submerged German mine, sending down 9 of her crew.
Human Torpedo
So, we’ve now figured that working at sea during World War One was essentially a death wish. Yet, there was one particular posting out on the waters that was even more perilous than the rest. Throughout the war both sides used torpedoes to fire at enemy ships and submarines. While that sounds like standard practice, there was one particular torpedo out there that did things a little different.
In 1915, Italian naval engineer, Raffaele Rossetti, designed a
human torpedo! So, how did it work? The torpedo was first towed to within range of its target. From there, the device was launched, with two crewman having the regrettable role of being saddled on top of the craft.
But before your mind runs off with ideas of the crew zooming through the water at the speed of light, things weren’t quite that swift. Fitted with a 17-inch propellor, the torpedo’s compressed-air engine could propel the weapon forward at a sluggish speed of 4 knots, less than 5 mph, allowing the crew to maintain their balance on the vessel. Let’s just hope they didn’t run into any hungry sharks, because that’s not exactly the speediest getaway vehicle. Interestingly, although the crew wore diving suits, they didn’t have breathing apparatus. Instead, the torpedo had to float just below the water’s surface, allowing the crew to keep their heads above water, as the torpedo chugged towards its target.
One plus for the crewmen was that the human torpedo was no kamikaze mission. Instead, two 375 pound charges were carried at the front of the vessel, which could be removed and clamped onto the enemy’s keel, when in range. In October 1918, the human torpedo, and its two crewmen finally met their date with destiny. Despite encountering difficulties with strong currents, the device and crew successfully survived the journey, reaching the hull of Austro-Hungarian battleship, SMS Viribus Unitis. Not everything went so swimmingly for the crewmen, however. Just moments after placing the explosives under the battleship’s hull, they were discovered and taken prisoner. Still, beats getting plunged into the dark depths of the sea, or going down with the torpedo. If you were amazed at the worst jobs of WW1, you might want to read about the worst roles you could be assigned in
WW2. Thanks for reading.