Far Beyond The Falls 

Written By A.D. CRICHTON

     Introduction

A quiet moment had come to Michael Delaney as he slowly rested his tired and aching frame against the cold mud wall and proceeded to roll himself a well-earned cigarette. It was by no means an easy task, considering his strong leathered hands were now numb with cold and just wouldn’t stop trembling. While Michael fumbled his way through this once-simple exercise, his thoughts again drifted to the clear blue sky and the fresh rivers and creeks that wound their way endlessly through the rugged mountain ranges that had always been his home. Michael Delaney was a plain simple country boy and proud of it. He lived on a small farm with his wife Catherine and their boys Joseph and Daniel, just two miles out from the Victorian country town of Wangaratta. Catherine and Michael had known each other since they were thirteen years old, and it had been love at first sight. He remembered the excitement of that first nervous peck he gave Catherine’s cheek as they strolled home from school along the winding dirt road that led out of town. His strong young heart pounded faster than he had ever thought possible, his sweated fingers clasped around hers.

 

Catherine’s parents, Edith and Robert Owens, owned a small general store in the main street of Wangaratta. It stocked everything from farming implements to groceries and notions, but most importantly, it boasted a more than adequate range of multi-coloured boiled sweets displayed in glass jars majestically arranged along the top of the front counter. Catherine’s father was a kind, hard working and cheerful soul, with fine tufts of silver hair swept back to cover the conspicuous bald patch on the crown of his freckled head. At first sight he looked more like a publican than the owner of the local store; he always wore black trousers, a crisp white shirt with rolled sleeves, a black bowtie, and a long white apron whose strings struggled against the onslaught of his portly frame. Each afternoon after school, Michael and Catherine would help out with the odd jobs around the store -- weighing flour, sweeping the floor, and replenishing the many shelves with a variety of canned goods. For their labors, they received the princely sum of a small bag of boiled sweets.

 

Michael would walk Catherine home and then continue on another mile to his parents’ farm. Michael’s father, John Delaney, had been born in Wangaratta on the 15th of March 1860 and married Agnes O’Hara in April of 1881. They were blessed with their first child, Michael, on the 27th of June 1882 and over the next five years three more children -- Julia, James, and Andrew -- would make their family complete. Like his own father before him, John had worked the farm all his life, his tired body struggling with pick and plough from daybreak to sunset, desperately trying to earn an honest living for his young family.

 

As Michael hurried home from school, he was regretfully aware that more than enough work would be patiently awaiting his arrival and every job required his immediate attention. If it was not completed by the end of day, his father would give him a stern talking-to, together with even more jobs to complete before school the following morning. This would not do for young Michael. He knew Catherine would be eagerly waiting for him on the old wooden seat that nestled under the wattle tree opposite her home, and he wouldn’t for the world keep her waiting.

 

The years rolled by and on the 10th of August, 1902, Michael Delaney finally married Catherine Owens at St. Patrick’s Catholic Church in Wangaratta. For the time being, they moved in with Catherine’s parents, who had more than enough room, until Michael could build their house on the parcel of land his father had put aside for them on the farm. The house was built just in time to commemorate the arrival of their firstborn, Joseph, on the third of March 1904. The following year, on the 18th of September 1905, the family joyfully received another son they would name Daniel.

 

Michael would spend the next thirteen years working with his father on the farm while Catherine cared for and nurtured her two precious boys. Nothing was too much when it came to Joseph and Daniel. Every Saturday morning without fail, Michael, Catherine, and the boys would bundle into their horse-drawn cart and ride into Wangaratta for their weekly supplies. The town would be filled with people, all bustling around with so many things to see and do, and of course, the most eagerly-awaited stop for the boys would be their grandparent’s general store. Through their young and unbiased eyes, they considered it to be without a doubt the most important establishment in the whole of Wangaratta.

 

The years had been kind to Robert and Edith Owens. Through twenty-five years of hard work, they had turned their store into a very successful business indeed. It had almost doubled in size after Bob Owens took over the old grain store next door. The extra space was utilised to store tools and bulk supplies needed for the outlying farmers who only came to town once every four weeks or so. But more importantly, still displayed in all their majesty along the top of the counter, those magnificent jars of boiled sweets filled the air with their tempting aroma. What fond memories those sweets held for Michael and Catherine as they watched their two boys wait eagerly for their grandfather to reach deep into those jars and fill their tiny hands.

 

‘Fix bayonets, boys, we’re going over!’ 

A deafening blast, sharp sounds of machine gun fire, and the shrieking of whistles jolted Michael of his dreams and back to a stark and terrifying reality. His hands shaking uncontrollably, he hastily fastened the bayonet to the barrel of his Enfield 303. Within minutes, Michael Delaney lay seriously wounded on a blood-soaked battlefield in France at a place he could not even pronounce. It was June 1916. His last words before losing consciousness were of his loving wife and two precious sons. ‘Dear God, what will they do without me?’

CHAPTER ONE.