Never start an emu war in Australia
And never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line
This story* has everything. It’s got emus. Primitive machine guns. And lots and lots of hubris.
The year: 1931
The place: Australia
The perp: I mean, it could be emus. But let’s be honest, it’s also humans.
The crime: Existing in the same place as a wheat field.
Australia has a long history of dealing with invasive species in various ways (see, cane toads, feral cats, feral horses, feral camels, look if you can put “feral” in front of it, Australia has picked a fight with it, and really just read my book).
But the emus? Those are native. Native flightless, six-foot tall birds whose sprints put Usain Bolt to shame. They lay gorgeous dark green eggs the size of your hand, and their young have adorable wee stripes. No one really had much to say about them except that they were not as tall as ostriches or as angry as cassowaries. Until 1931.
We are in a heavily farmed area of Western Australia. This was a relatively newly populated area for colonists, started specifically by veterans of WWI, who were given the land (which was, of course, taken from Indigenous Australians), for their service. The new farmers started growing wheat. But during the depression, wheat prices tanked. The farmers began to panic.
And a flock of emus show up. Emus are migratory, it turns out, hiking in from the coast toward more inland regions after the breeding season. They began to snack on the delicious wheat that they found.
The farmers panicked. Yes, crops were bad, very bad! We could blame the weather or the depression but heck, why blame capitalism when you can blame EMUS. To be fair, there were 20,000 emus, a truly inspirational sight. Did anyone think to themselves, hey maybe we shouldn’t be hunting those dingoes to extinction? Did anyone think to themselves, hm, perhaps this land was not farmed in the past because it was full of emus? Did anyone think, you know, this is a great use case for a FENCE?
No.
No these were veterans and they called the army. Specifically they called the artillery, and the artillery sent a detachment of troops, two Lewis guns (leftover early machine guns from WWI), and 10,000 rounds of ammunition.
The artillery arrived, and six days later pulled out in total defeat.
The goal was to kill 100 emus and take their skins as a lesson to the others.** The soldiers first tried to set up ambushes for the emus. They fired a lot of shots, but under those giant furry feathers, emus are rather weeny. They are also fast runners, and prey animals, meaning they are very quick to flee.
By day four, the emus had set up defense. Flocks would graze while one emu kept its long neck up, scanning for soldiers. This is a common behavior for prey animals (horses do it, for example, buffalo, etc.), but the soldiers put it down to the emus nefarious cleverness and obvious criminal intent.
On day 6 the emus acquired knives. (Don’t mind me, this is just my imagination)
The soldiers eventually realized this wasn’t going to work. They gave up with 50 emus and no human casualties.
But they did try again! This time, the army claimed nearly 1,000 birds. But overall, the move was criticized, mocked (rightly), and declared a failure.
When the farmers again petitioned for help in 1934, 1943, and 1948, the government just issued a bounty.
The final solution? A fence.
There’s a moral to this story. It’s this.
Never label anything a “war on” that’s not against another country. War on drugs, war on emus. It doesn’t matter. When you label something a “war” and the other side doesn’t know or care? You’re going to lose.
And just…BUILD A F*^&ING FENCE.
The end.
Where have you been?
And is it learning about how some monotremes can dream…and some can’t! That’s right, echnidnas cannot dream. Platypuses, however, can, and there’s an adorable figure that shows how they wriggle in their dreams.
Maybe it’s learning about how the takahē is returning to New Zealand. I was prepared to just read and scroll on, and then I saw that this bird looks like what would happen if a cassowary humped an iridescent beach ball. Magnificent
Or maybe it’s learning that there’s a guy now leading rat tours of NYC. MY only question is why it took so long.
Also hold on to your bacon, because German wild boars are radioactive. Why? Nuclear weapons testing when the area was part of the USSR produced a lot of radiation that got into the soil. Soil that now grows delicious truffles. Who likes truffles? Wild pigs do!
Where have I been?
Well, DragonCon obviously. I’d like to give a special shoutout to the people who not only came to my panels (all like….gosh maybe it was nearly 1000 of you thank you!), but some of your brought my BOOK for me to sign! Thank you so much, I seriously teared up, it meant so much to me.
This week on my podcast, we’re talking about historical farming! Why Roman occupation goes hand in hand with bacon, and how fried chicken is not nearly as historic as you think.
Otherwise, I’ve been feature writing, and keep an eyeball on this space, because my editor at Sierra has been generous enough to let me use my extra reporting here!
Get ready for some HORSING AROUND.
*This is a story that I got to share at a DragonCon 2023 panel called “Why are birds?” and it was so delightful I just needed to share it here.
**We still do this, and it makes me want to headdesk. A lesson to the others does not work when the others are another species who is not necessarily aware of and capable of mourning their dead! Animals don’t think like we do.
This really gives a whole new lens to the line "Haven't You Always Wanted an Emu?" in the song "If I Had a Million Dollars" by the Barenaked Ladies :D
I always joke about the ants that come into the house that they should notice the pile of dead ants and go somewhere else, but no they have to come by the hundreds instead