This is a bit out there, probably ASB, not an official war, but it occurred to me as a humorous interlude..
In [insert year] the commanding officer at the British Army base in [somewhere in canada] received an urgent message from one of his outposts. The message read simply 'overrun by caribou. Unable to rendezvous'. The commanding officer, Charles Fordyke a young and enthusiastic, if inexperienced man, of typically good education (as was common at the time, for young members of the aristocracy to go straight into the ranks of army officers) had been somewhat bored in his first few weeks at the post. He seized this chance for battle, and to make a name for himself. Gathering his forces, he set out immediately. Ever wary of spies and loose tongues, he kept the mission a secret, even from his fellow officers. And so they set out on their long mission, to protect the outpost from the attack by some vicious savages. Officer Fordyke had never met any of the natives before, he had only read of them in some adventure books he secretly still loved to read in the evenings. He was excited but also nervous of his first encounter. What would this mysterious Caribou tribe be like? Would they sacrifice their prisoners, maybe even eat them as some were said to do? Would they scalp them, burn them alive, or sacrifice them to some heathen demon?
After a few days, they reached the forlorn outpost. They remarked on the hoofprints in the snow, the bloodstains scattered here and there, some streaks of blood showed where bodies had been dragged away into cabins or over the hill. A lone smouldering fire showed where a small makeshift camp had been up to an hour beforehand. The soldiers shivered as they thought what meat had been cooked on this fire.
In an instant the cold north wind changed direction, and they presently became aware of distant screams and chants. Rising to the occasion and his rank, Fordyke led his small band of troops over the hill. As he reach the summit he gasped, then turned back quickly bidding his officers to follow suit. But before he had even turned back, a young private had also reached the summit, and burst into uproarious laughter. Despite Fordykes protestations, others came to see what was causing this great mirth, and behold, as far as the eye could see, were scores and scores of elk. Presently a voice surprised them "Aye Sir" said the man, "did you get my message? This lot here's only just done passing by our cabin, couldn't even open the door for a week! Lucky we had a couple shot early on or we'd have half starved to death! What brings you here then?"
And so ends the story of perhaps Britains most embarassing 'incident', told and retold by conscripts over many long, boring Canadian winters. The incident became somewhat of a running joke, with many incidents being blamed on the 'Caribou' tribe. Soon after Fordyke was reposted to the East Indies, where he led a quiet life but was still occasionally badgered by colleagues reminiscing on his now infamous sojourn. His former battalion was nicknamed the Caribou, and even took a Caribou as its mascot for a short period.