Australia, an expanse of ecosystems, teeming with wildlife and natural beauty. A haven, buzzing with ecological wonders, yet also an unfortunate protector of the creepy crawlies so terrifying that haunt my dreams. But when asked which animal is the most dangerous in Australia, answers vary, as personal experiences overtake rational thought. Perhaps it’s the infamous blue-ringed octopus, which packs a deadly venom in a tennis ball sized care package or the nefarious box jellyfish whose venom causes cardiac arrest in 4 minutes.
But nobody’s mind jumps to Emus, understandably as they might not be life-threatening species: despite one Florida man deciding to prove us otherwise; by making the genius decision to own one as a pet, and thus was clawed to death by it in 2019 (karma? I think so). Now for all those who are not large bird connoisseurs, what exactly is an emu? The emu, endemic to Australia is the second largest flightless bird, although its lack of flight doesn’t make it any the less terrifying; it’s more like a goose on steroids with its 15cm claws that add a certain fear factor, which are distinctly moderately absent in our fond memories of childhood geese attacks. Somewhat consistently, emus and humans have co-existed in relative peace, and for the most parts locals and tourists alike accepted the bird as another typical, dangerous Australian creature.
This all changed in the 1930s, as, in true Aussie fashion, there was what locals called an infestation of emus. Contrarily I’m sure “infestation” wouldn’t be the word that I would use on a mob of emus brutally attacking a farm, but the outback will be the outback – forever fearless. To set the scene, it’s the 1930s – the Great Depression, wheat prices are falling, and the subsidies promised by the government haven’t been delivered. In addition to this, the Australian government created a WW1 settlement program for veterans, who couldn’t afford pensions due to the economic depression. The policy statement entailed compensating over 5000 soldiers with farmland for cultivating wheat and rearing sheep. This resulted in an abundance of war veterans in the outback.
In Western Australia, especially, emu numbers were on the rise, since they had the wonderful habit of breaking down fences, allowing other pests (like dingoes or rabbits) to get into fields and ruin crops. Thousands of these so called ‘pests’ had descended on the Campion and Walgoolan region in the Wheatbelt area. And what were the war veterans to do? With their very livelihood threatened, they needed to protect it. And there was the enemy – emus. Who could possibly support these war veterans in their military saga against the elusive emu? It was the minister of defence, Sir George Pearce, who agreed to their request for machine guns to fight the emus. Though this was a military operation, it was not a large one, the military force he dispatched units headed up by three soldiers: Sergeant S McMurray, and Gunner J O’Halloran, who were the command of Major Meredith of the Royal Australian Artillery. They were equipped with two Lewis Light machine guns and 10,000 rounds of ammunition – half the bullets for the number of emus they were sent to cull; Of course, Australia, convinced it would be a success, sent a news cinematographer from Fox was sent to film the ‘war’ to incite some good PR for the government. The military operations went underway in November of 1932: three comrades each with two guns against a herd of 20,000 1.8-metre-tall creatures running at speeds of 30 mph with knives attached to their feet? – piece of cake.
Things went sideways almost immediately, as soon as the three veterans unleashed the hellfire, with the birds scattering into small groups that were unbelievably fast. If the soldiers found their mark, the emus could withstand several bullets (upwards of 5) without even flinching. They had the invulnerability of tanks.
So, let’s assess where they were, with three sergeants, two Lewis guns and 10,000 bullets for 20,000 emus: to say they had miscalculated was an understatement. The birds had been protected as a native species until 1922, but that was revoked, and they were re-classified as ‘vermin’ essentially inviting a free-for-all war. By the end of November, these three members of the Australian military (joined by many other veterans) were launching a full-blow war against the emus. The group even shifted to guerrilla warfare, but to no avail. With every new strategy, the emus adapted to the battle.
After 38 days of intense battles, jamming guns, broken vehicles and all the drama and terror of any war, they counted their victories- a few hundred emus dead. And thus, the army was asked to call off the great emu war on the 10th of December. They had to admit defeat – they had lost to a ferocious, voracious, unrelentingly determined mob of birds – humbling, to say the least. The Australian government, optimistically, decided to instead provide the farmers with ammunition free of cost and promised to build a 200km anti-emu wall. Farmers were also incentivised by the bounties placed on emus.
So, the emu war ended as Australia’s perhaps most humiliating defeat. Waging a war against animals, a tribe, a unit, of flightless birds and losing. Perhaps the irony was instead in the fact that the emu is the national bird of Australia, as designated to be so in 1960, and is on the coat of arms. Imagine England waging a war against robins and losing.
Still Australia teems with all the dangerous animals in the world, its environment crumbling away, harsh bushfires wrecking the landscape, and chemicals bleaching corals. Maybe we can sit here and laugh instead at the emu war, at the spectacular defeat of an army. Proving that nature can win, even if it’s a mob of flightless, bullet immune birds against the full force of Australia.
