On October 25, 1854, in the midst of the Crimean War, the members of the Light Brigade received an unlikely set of orders. The British light cavalry were to mount a full frontal assault against a Russian artillery battery that was dug in, aware of their coming, and equipped with excellent fields of defensive fire—a task for which the cavalry were sorely unprepared.
In a battle which was to be immortalized by Alfred, Lord Tennyson’s poem “The Charge of the Light Brigade,” some 607 mounted soldiers rode against a vastly superior force, which gunned them down as they came.
The order for the attack, which came from Lord Raglan, had actually intended the light cavalry to stop the Russians from carrying away other captured guns, not charge the entrenched ones. However, its delivery led to confusion, and the Light Brigade instead rode into a storm of bullets from which more than 400 would never return.
They were led by James Brudenell, a controversial leader described by Britannica as “feckless.” Like many military officers, Brudenell had reached his position as much through his wealth and personal connections as from any military service, and there are those who blame the disastrous charge on his relative lack of qualifications.
However, while history has not always been kind to the reputation of James Brudenell, at the time he was “lionized on his return to England,” for leading the charge “steadily and gallantly,” and he was appointed inspector general of cavalry in the wake of the fiasco.
Of course, Brudenell’s controversial role in the Charge of the Light Brigade wasn’t the first such instance. Failing upward is something that has happened since time immemorial, as these examples of some of history’s least qualified military officers can attest…
Quintus Servilius Caepio

Sculpture of Quintus Servilius Caepio (30–15 BC).
Photo Credit: Wikimedia CommonsThe Battle of Arausio, which took place in 105 BCE near the present-day town of Orange in southern France, may be called a battle, but it might be more accurately styled a farce—and a slaughter.
Quintus Servilius Caepio had served as consul the previous year, but now he was ostensibly under the command of the new consul, Gnaeus Mallius Maximus, and Caepio apparently didn’t like it. He refused to allow his troops to camp with the new consul’s army, and while Maximus was conducting negotiations with a Germanic tribe called the Cimbri, Caepio led his forces on an unexpected attack against them.
It was a disaster. The Cimbri wiped out Caepio’s forces, and then, emboldened, set their sights on Maximus’s.
That day, the Romans lost an estimated 80,000 soldiers and as many as 40,000 auxiliaries. Caepio survived the slaughter, but he was stripped of his Roman citizenship and exiled upon his return.
He lived out the rest of his life in relative luxury, however, possibly due to another massive dereliction of duty—one in which he may have stolen some 15,000 talents of gold that he “recovered,” but which never made it back to Rome.
Gideon Pillow

Satirical cartoon of Gideon Pillow (1848).
Photo Credit: Nathaniel Currier / Wikimedia Commons“In a war that saw more than its share of unskilled politically appointed generals,” writes Britannica of Confederate General Gideon Pillow, “Pillow was arguably the worst on either side.”
Like many unqualified military officers, Pillow achieved his rank mainly through his family’s political connections, including his friendship with James Polk, the 11th president of the United States. This put Pillow in a position of command during the Mexican-American War, where, among other things, Pillow at one point ordered his men to “entrench on the wrong side of fortifications.”
Following the Mexican-American War, Pillow faced a court-martial, partly for exaggerating his own success on the field at the expense of other officers. However, his friendship with Polk helped him to avoid any serious repercussions.
When civil war broke out between the states, Pillow became a Confederate general and once again showed himself unequal to the task when he failed to capitalize on an attack that had initially driven back the Union soldiers commanded by Ulysses S. Grant, ultimately losing the vital stronghold of Fort Donelson.
Francisco Solano Lopez

Satirical cartoon of Francisco Solano López (1865).
Photo Credit: Wikimedia CommonsBeing the son of a dictator is likely to get you put in charge of the military when he dies—but it doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll be any good at it.
Enter Francisco Solano Lopez, who inherited a powerful regional military from his father in the mid-19th century, but managed to plunge Paraguay into war with Brazil, Argentina, and Uruguay within two years.
Whether Lopez was an unstable and disastrous leader or an indefatigable defender of Paraguayan sovereignty against the imperialist ambitions of the country’s neighbors depends on who you ask. But that the resulting war was a disaster for Paraguay seems beyond the realm of conjecture.
Not only did Paraguay lose more than a quarter of its territory, but the nation’s total population was cut in half. As much as 90% of the fighting-age men in the country were slain.
As if all that wasn’t bad enough, in his desperation, Lopez ordered the execution of hundreds of individuals whom he believed were plotting against him, including his own brother.
Despite all this, however, Lopez is still remembered by many as one of Paraguay’s great national heroes, and his memory is celebrated each year on March 1, known as Heroes’ Day.
Douglas Haig

Douglas Haig returns to London in 1919.
Photo Credit: Wikimedia CommonsOn paper, Douglas Haig seems like a perfect fit for a military officer. He graduated from the Royal Military College, served the War Office as director of military training, and fought in both Sudan and South Africa. Yet today, his name is synonymous mainly with overwhelming casualties.
During the First World War, he commanded the troops at the First Battle of the Somme in 1916, where he gave the order for them to go “over the top,” into a wall of machine gun fire. Despite some 60,000 British casualties on the first day of the attack, with precious little to show for it, Haig refused to change tactics.
In all, more than 420,000 British soldiers died in the battle.
Despite this, Haig tried the same approach again at Passchendaele the following year, to much the same result, this time losing 275,000 troops and still failing to capture his objective.