Unholy War

The people who failed to remember The Great Mouse War of 1927 might not have to worry about history repeating itself, or should they?

By 1926 the tributaries which supplied the second largest naturally occurring body of water west of the Mississippi had been diverted for agriculture. 

Lake Buena Vista was drained, a native American holy site called Skull Island was removed and the lake bottom was converted into farmland.  

To the north, Tulare Lake is the largest naturally occurring body of water in the west. At one time the two lakes were connected through a series of sloughs, swamps and marshlands which continued straight out to the sea.  

During the time when the water was allowed to follow its natural course it was possible to paddle a canoe from Bakersfield through the waterways down the valley and right into San Francisco Bay without ever touching land.  The journey required about two weeks time and by all accounts was a wild adventure.  Local lore remains that during the 1930s such a voyage was attempted and the principals were able to successfully navigate the route with little portage. There were rumors that someone maintained a diary during the trip but no records can be located. 

 During the growing season the lake bottom land was heavily planted in grains.  The conditions were perfect and the stage was set for a freak of nature to occur.  After the harvest field mice occupied the farmland furiously reproducing until their numbers increased to one hundred million.  The old lake bed was harboring a tsunami of field mice when heavy rain storms arrived during November of 1926.  The torrential downpours replenished Lake Buena Vista with flood waters. When their home was destroyed by the flood one hundred million field mice were forced to march out of the lake with their insatiable hunger providing them little recourse but to maraud the town of Maricopa.

  

The mice ran through that place like Tecate through a gringo on Cinco de Mayo, and when the smoke cleared the mouse marine contingent was reduced by one half to around fifty million.  

As the once proud boomtown of Maricopa lay in ruins, the mouse marines turned north and mounted a full scale assault on the city of Taft.  

Following the invasion in December of 1926 the mouse to person ratio in Taft was 20,000 to 1.   

  

No aspect of life remained unaffected by the horrors of the rebel rodents as this unholy war raged on through Christmas and straight into the new year.  

 

As they gnawed their way through the terrorized town the mice suffered so many casualties the

roadways became slick from the guts of their dead.  At least one auto accident occurred due to unsafe conditions created by the corpses.  I know this because it was my very own great grandfather who lost control of his truck on the Coles Levee road and crashed.

Emboldened by the feeble resistance the mice became so powerfully ravenous they overcame and devoured a poor little lamb with the sad misfortune of being locked inside his pen when they swarmed the scene.  

The next day the farmer went out to his sheep pen only to find a pile of bones in place of his precious snow white lamb. 

 

Following the merciless slaughter of that innocent lamb, the city called on all able bodied men to gather their weapons and mobilize in defense of home and hearth.

In January 1927, a local militia mustered in order to abate this shameful situation once and for all.  

As the militia began performing their grim task with deadly precision little progress was achieved.  Following a fierce battle that devolved into hand to hand combat the militia reached an impasse.  That evening as the sun dipped below the Temblors the volunteers returned home to regroup and plan a counter assault which was set to begin at first light.

 

The next morning as the beleaguered force prepared to launch a new battle, an unexpected event arrived with the breaking dawn. 

 

It was an event more impressive than the biblical plague poured out upon the woeful sinners in the city of Taft.  

 

Just as the unsavory events confounded the entire world during this accursed time, a supernatural miracle arrived from beyond the horizon.

Before more rodent lives could be extinguished by the valiant militiamen, thousands of birds appeared from the four corners of the earth seeking shelter from the storm but finding a cornucopia of carnage instead.

  

Every type of native bird of prey, scavenger, water foul, along with several hundred volunteer sea gulls that flew over from Pismo Beach darkened the skies above the battlefield.  Diving down to steal the mice from their concealed positions the birds were able to easily spot them and begin their grizzly feast that very day.  

Air support had finally arrived to provide relief for the war weary city and their chastened militia.  

 

It was sort of a minor miracle that birds were able to conclude in a few days what humans couldn't accomplish in a month.  The great mouse war was finally over, and the great clean up had just begun because of the seagulls.

Have you ever seen a seagull in Taft?  

There's a reason for that...there were not any drive-thru car washes in the old days.

 

 

 

 

It is not good to fool around with nature because when you alter the ecosystem it always comes back. That time it was mice, followed by birds, what will it be next time?  I've personally seen frogs emerge from the swamps numbering in the millions and clouds of crickets as numerous as the stars in the sky and in between all that a bunch of dust storms.

The one hundred year anniversary of The Great Mouse War is four years away and new challenges require people to replace the practices of the old frontier. 

 

 

People can see the damage created by altering the natural world, but some people don't care what happens.

Update:  I searched the archives and was able to find a reel of old footage from The Great Mouse War of 1927. 

 

 Enjoy...