The Emu War is one of Australia’s strangest historical events. In late 1932, the government actually sent the army to war… against birds. And they didn’t exactly come out on top.
It was a peculiar event in Australian history that took place in the Western Australian region of Campion during the Great Depression.
Yes, the Australian government sent a small military force, led by Major G.P.W. Meredith of the Royal Australian Artillery, armed with two Lewis guns and 10,000 rounds of ammunition, to the region. The plan was to cull the emus and reduce their numbers to protect the crops.
Curious? I’m not surprised. After all, if the Australian Army couldn’t dispatch a few pesky birds, then something was seriously amiss. So let me enlighten you and tell you all about the time the Australian Army went to war against its own coat of arms… and came away with feathers in its face.
Australia does not have an official national bird, but unofficially, it is widely accepted to be the emu. This impressive bird is pictured on the national coat of arms alongside another of Australia's most peculiar animals, the red kangaroo.
Emus themselves are remarkable creatures - far more than just the punchline to Australia’s oddest war. Standing up to two metres tall and sprinting at speeds of 50 km/h, they can outpace most farm machinery of the 1930s. Their powerful legs can leap fences and deliver kicks strong enough to break bones, while their feathers provide insulation against both heat and cold. Even their biology confounds opponents: emus can travel long distances without water, drawing moisture from plants, and their ability to change direction at full speed makes them nearly impossible to herd... much like cats really. In short, the Australian government wasn’t just up against birds - it was facing some of nature’s finest desert survivors.
And if that wasn’t enough to humble the would-be warriors of the Emu War, consider this: in the emu world, the blokes do all the hard yakka with the kids. Once the female lays her emerald-green eggs, she wanders off, leaving Dad to sit tight on the nest for eight weeks without food, and then shepherd the chicks for months after hatching. So while the soldiers of Australia were fumbling with machine guns, emu fathers were proving themselves tougher and more committed than many a human general.
Put simply: the Australian government wasn’t fighting birds. It was up against desert-hardened survival machines with feathers.
At first glance, it is a humorous footnote: soldiers with machine guns battling flightless birds. But beneath the comedy ( or was it? ) lies a profound warning about intervention, authority, and the consequences of acting without understanding.
During the Great Depression, World War I veterans took up farming in Western Australia’s Campion region. They worked the land with good intentions, striving to rebuild their lives and contribute to the nation. At the same time, emus migrated across the wheat fields, following instinct, seeking food, and disrupting crops. They were not enemies. Each acted according to its nature.
And yes, you need to watch this video. In fact all the videos...
And then the government got involved. Soldiers, armed with Lewis guns and 10,000 rounds of ammunition, were dispatched to “solve” the problem. Suddenly, a manageable irritation turned into a full-blown fiasco. The emus outran bullets, the guns jammed, and the military withdrew weeks later, humbled and embarrassed. The farmers’ livelihoods remained precarious, the emus largely unscathed, and the land bore the scars of outside interference.
Ninety-odd years later, the Second Emu War has begun - only this time, the emus aren’t out in the wheatbelt. They’re us, scratching out a living while the government points its latest shiny weapons - not Lewis guns now, but policies, bins, and bans - in entirely the wrong direction.
I have been often known to say " There's an article there.... " and I hasten away to tap on my keyboard and write some piece of nonsense that reflects my somewhat strange take on life.
Without government meddling, the Emu War never would have existed. The emus would have gone about their business. The farmers would have adapted. No “war” would have been recorded in history. It was the interference itself that created the chaos, the conflict, and the story we now tell.
The lesson is simple: if you don’t understand the situation, stay out of it. Interference, however well-meaning, often creates more harm than good. Restraint is not weakness; it is wisdom. Sometimes, the best course of action is to let those who know their own business get on with it.
And yet, the meddling continues. The guns may be gone, but the shootings - literal or otherwise - carry on. Now we even have machete surrender bins - The tools change, the meddling continues, and the harm...or the chaos...never stops.
So what’s the takeaway for today? Is our government fit for purpose...or are they still barging in where they don’t belong, waving orders and mandates, thinking they know better than those who actually live and work the land?
Dusty Gulch...and the Emu War...reminds us that interference without understanding doesn’t fix anything. It only creates conflict, punishes the people it claims to help, and leaves chaos in its wake.
Th late great Leon Lowes. Leon passed away on Monday 17/7/17
Sometimes the wisest course is simple: stay out of it, and let the people - and the emus - get on with it.
Anything else is just arrogance with consequences. The first Emu War was absurd. The second one? That’s deadly serious. And unless someone in Canberra learns the art of leaving well enough alone, we’ll keep losing ... not to emus this time, but to our own government's bloody arrogance.
Footnote:
This is a funny spoof film made In 2020. In a " dramatic" retelling of Australia's actual war against their own national bird, two soldiers fight for their lives to escape a horde of bloodthirsty emus after a surprise attack. Starring Emile Rappaport and Samuel Reinhart
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