13. Xanthoula and Herbert Wrigley Marry

http://xanthoulabertwrigley.blogspot.com

Xanthoula and Herbert Wrigley Marry

It was in the winter of 1949 when, one night, sitting around the wood-burning stove, the family was looking through old photos our mother had kept in a box.  Among them, she picked up a small photo showing a group of soldiers in British uniform -- they were actually mostly Greek guerillas wearing British uniforms.  In their midst stood a tall thin young man with an arrow marked in pencil above his head.   At the back of the photo we read in English: Herbert Wrigley, 9 Banool Avenue, Yarraville, Victoria, Australia.  Mother immediately remembered Slim and had the idea of asking Xanthoula to write a letter to find out if this young man had made it back home alive.  Xanthoula was the only member of the family who had a little English, as she had just started attending evening English classes.  She wrote a simple letter and after not too long a reply came from Australia from Slim.  Mother and grandfather were particularly happy with the news.  Again, our father’s death was not in vain, we had helped someone. 

A correspondence started back and forth between Slim and Xanthoula writing on behalf of our family. He learned about our father’s death.  He was still in Greece when our father was arrested, but in the last few months of his stay he was away from our area serving with the British Mission so he hadn’t heard about it.  After a while, Slim sent us a photo, dressed up in a suit with white shirt and tie, high forehead, straight hair combed back, warm and laughing eyes, a big radiant smile.  I am looking at that photo now and I am thinking: what a beautifully open face, one can ‘read’ it like an open book.  We all liked that photo, a warm and engaging personality came through it.  A while later Xanthoula sent a couple of photos of herself.  She was quite a beauty in those days, with a slender but feminine figure, light brown hair surrounding a lovely face which, in spite of hardships, had preserved an air of gentleness and innocence.  The correspondence and the photos, accompanied by some parcels Slim started sending with gifts, all of that was something new and nice in our life.  We all looked forward to receiving his letters which Xanthoula tried to translate for us.  Sometimes she would take the letters to her English class and ask her teacher to clarify any questions she had.

Some months passed, and then in one of his letters Slim asked if Xanthoula would like to visit Australia. He explained that he was still unmarried and, having tried out different places and different jobs, he had now settled in Melbourne living with his parents and his elder brother George.  In that letter he asked her if she would accept to come and meet him and be a guest of the Wrigley family.  If she felt that she could make a life with him there, he would be very happy and honored if she stayed as his wife, but if she didn’t there would be a return ticket for her.  Enough money for a return trip, a kind of bond, was also required by the immigration department for young women being sponsored as brides-to-be.  This ensured that they could change their minds if they wanted to.  The length of time given for such a decision to be made was three months.  If they didn’t marry within three months, then they could return to their country of origin, or they could apply to remain as immigrants without marrying, but the bond would be lost.

Grandfather immediately pronounced himself in favor for Xanthoula to go.  Having been beaten up twice for his liberal ideas, with father’s betrayal and execution and the civil war nearly costing Eleni’s life, he was disenchanted with life and politics in Greece.  He still read the newspaper every day, was still interested in the events that unfolded, but with his American experience in mind he felt strongly that every other country, especially  “new” countries like America or Australia, would be more ‘civilized’ than Greece.  So he had no hesitations.  Eleni says in a taped interview I have of her speaking alone that her heart was trembling at the thought; that she hoped Xanthoula wouldn’t leave, but she felt she had no right to influence her to stay.  It would have been selfish on her part.  Mother, who had been so happy with the news of Slim’s survival, was now unhappy with the idea of Xanthoula leaving and understandably so.  Xanthoula had been a pillar of the family and a joy to have around, her beauty, her gentle and generous nature softened the blows that life had dealt us.  She was the ‘artistic’ one in our family: she could draw and sew clothes and was always the one to find ways to make our home beautiful with little touches – like buying an inexpensive but pretty roll of material and making new curtains and covers to throw over old pieces of furniture.

None of us remembers whether our brother had an opinion on the matter, or if he did he didn’t express it strongly.  I hadn’t asked him that question during the interview in 1986 and he is no longer alive for me to ask him now.  As for me, I remember feeling panicked at the thought of not having Xanthoula in my life.  She took such good care of me, altering her old clothes to fit me or sewing a new dress for me with a piece of fabric that she would pick up in little stores in the city.  But above all, she included me in her outings with friends whenever possible.  That is the reason why I have in Greece much older friends, some of them now in their advanced eighties.  I kept in touch with them all these years and I look forward to seeing them every time I am in Greece.  Whether it was a free concert or a movie or a walk along the seafront promenade, I was welcome in Xanthoula’s group of friends.  They took an interest in me, took pride in my success at school and made me feel I was important.  They used to call me ‘to mikro’, in Greek ‘the little one’.  So the thought of losing Xanthoula was unbearable to me.  If she was going to go, I declared immediately that I was going with her.  I was then nearly 14 years old, about half-way through high school.

Xanthoula didn’t rush into making a decision one way or another.  She asked for time to think about it.  Slim understood and waited.  The correspondence continued and her leaving for Australia or not became the topic of conversation with close friends.  She even showed some of Slim’s letters to her English teacher, Mr. McKenzie, and asked him for his opinion.  None of her friends wanted her to go, she reminisced in the tapes of some twenty-three years ago.  There were a couple of young men who liked her particularly but could not declare themselves openly. I know this well because one of them told me, with tears in his eyes, some ten years later when I returned to Greece from my first seven years in Australia, that he loved her but he let her go because he felt he had nothing to offer her.  He came from a poor family, without a job and still finishing his University studies at the time she was thinking of leaving. Her first romantic attachment, Kostas, the young medical student who often walked with her to the prison camp when she was visiting her father, was in the army at the time, having finished his medical degree.  Before he left, his father, for fear that his son may be branded as Communist because he was seen with Xanthoula and her sister, made him promise that he would stop seeing her and would not look for her when he came back from the army.  When Xanthoula heard this from Kostas, she said goodbye to him, gave up the thought that they could be united and closed her heart.  So at the time Slim wrote with his proposal, although she had quite a few good friends, there was no one special in her life.  Disenchanted with life in Greece, with no prospect of a teaching position for which she had applied nearly five years earlier, and still under the shock of what her own sister had gone through, Xanthoula felt that she was at a dead end.  About a year after Slim had proposed, she replied that she was accepting his offer to go to Australia.  In the family, we all knew that one of the reasons she had made that decision was that she thought she would be able to help us from there. 

Grandfather gave his blessing to the dismay of mother who could not hide her unhappiness.  I remember her frequently but furtively wiping her eyes before Xanthoula left but she felt she had to accept it.  She had never been the kind of mother to tell her daughters what to do or not do.  Eleni, as she says in the tapes, was able to convince herself that this was not a final decision.  Xanthoula would probably go for a trip, stay the three months and then come back.  I was devastated and cried a lot on the day of Xanthoula’s departure.  I still remember standing in the train station in Thessaloniki, one cold day in December 1950, and the pain I felt when the train left taking my beloved sister away.  I made her promise she would send for me.  To calm me down Eleni also promised that if Xanthoula stayed in Australia they would let me go and join her but only after I finished high school.  It took nearly five years before that could happen...

Xanthoula spent a few days in Athens to say goodbye to Uncle Elias’s family.  They had taken her in like a daughter in 1948, and even now, over sixty years later, she continues to feel very close to our two cousins, Aphroditi and Fifi who still live in Athens.   A few days before Christmas 1950, she boarded a ship to take her to the Italian port of Genoa.  From there she boarded the Greek ship ‘Cyrenia, a relatively small ship for such a long voyage, but one of the few that transported European migrants to Australia.  On that trip, ‘Cyrenia’ carried more than 1,000 passengers.  Later on, with more and more people from England and many other European countries choosing Australia for a new life, joined by those who simply wanted to travel and see the world from either direction, the P & O Line came into the picture.  Five years later, in April 1955, I was to travel in grand style compared to Xanthoula on the maiden voyage of the ship ‘Arcadia’, a 30,000-ton ocean liner.  It was a luxurious boat compared to ‘Cyrenia’, twice its size and a brand new vessel as well.

Xanthoula though says that she had a lovely trip, with no problems of any kind, and made good friends on the way, especially two Greek sisters, Elli and Anastasia Argyros, who were coming to join their brothers in Melbourne.  After the kind of life Xanthoula had in Greece for the last ten years, this was indeed a wonderful experience.  They celebrated Christmas on the boat, and there were parties and dances almost every night of the thirty-five-day trip.  They went through the Suez Canal, down to Aden, then on to Fremantle and finally to the port of Melbourne – a similar route that Slim had taken to return to Australia in 1944, this time without the fear of the German submarines!  A couple of nights before they arrived at their destination, there was a major event on board: the Captain’s ball.  It was customary to have a beauty contest in which there was a vote for the most beautiful girl on the ship.  Xanthoula recalls that there were girls from many countries – Italy, England, France, Germany, Holland, Lebanon, and others, but no girl presented herself to represent Greece.  The Greek people on board who had met Xanthoula pressured her to run for the title, but she hesitated, she wasn’t used to showing herself off.  She was assured that girls presented themselves wearing a dress of their own, that it was a conservative affair with no bathing suits or bikinis.  So she decided to join the group of girls who all looked much more beautiful to her.  But when the time came for the decision, which was made not only by the captain’s table but also by the volume of applause from the passengers, then it became evident that Xanthoula was by far the favorite.  She remembers that people kept applauding and cheering when she came on the stage with a Greek flag wrapped around her upper body.  To her surprise, the title of “Miss Cyrenia” was given to her.  She remembers that everyone was very happy for her, including the girls who competed for the title.

When ‘Cyrenia’ docked in the North Wharf of the port of Melbourne on the 22^nd of January 1951, everyone crowded on the top deck looking down onto the wharf, some searching for relatives, others, like Xanthoula, trying to recognize people whom they had seen only in photos.  As Xanthoula remembers and has recounted on several occasions over the years, a cabin boy came to find her and tell her that someone wanted to speak with her.  A young reporter with a photographer looking for a good story, having heard of the Greek girl who was chosen “Miss Cyrenia”, had asked to meet her.  In the process of interviewing her, the reporter found out that this young Greek girl was coming out as a bride-to-be, sponsored by a former Australian soldier who had been to Greece and had fought the Germans with the Greek partisans.  Further questions gave him the information that the Australian soldier had been sheltered by the girl’s family after he had escaped from a prison camp and that the girl’s father was later executed by the Germans for helping the Allies. It didn’t take him long to decide that this was a story worth following, so he attached himself to Xanthoula to see what more he could discover.  

After taking a few photos of her on the deck, he and his photographer took her down ‘unofficially’ through the customs to look for Bert.  Soon she spotted a tall figure she recognized as Slim from the photo he had sent.  He had just got permission to get on the boat himself, accompanied by his elder sister Claire wearing her best hat for the occasion and holding a bouquet of flowers.  Xanthoula approached him from behind, touched his arm and timidly asked ‘Herbert?’  As he turned around and she looked up she realized how tall he was! The reporter had a photo of them taken immediately and then he followed them upstairs to the boat.   He insisted on taking photos of the two of them in the cabin and on that occasion he had Xanthoula sit very close to Bert. Xanthoula says in the tape, “he had me sitting practically on Bert’s knee!”, so close that she felt a little uncomfortable as she didn’t really know him.  Letters don’t usually prepare one much for physical closeness.  After several photos and more questions the reporter finally left them alone, but not without getting full name and address.  He planned to follow up on this story.

Bert took Xanthoula through the customs and ordered a taxi to take the three of them home, where the other sister, Flo -- short for Florence, after her mother’s name -- had prepared a welcome table with food and wine.  Bert’s father, his brother George, and his younger brother Eric were also there to welcome her.  She spent that first night sleeping in Bert’s bedroom while he slept in the living room.  Xanthoula felt she had enough excitement for one day, and she says she fell sound asleep after the two sisters Flo and Claire left to go to their respective homes.

Next day, 23^rd January 1951, three major Melbourne newspapers came out with several large photos of Xanthoula and Bert on their first meeting on the boat and with the story of the ‘War Bride’.  Those days, the ships bringing European immigrants by the hundreds were big news. ‘The Argus’ featured two large photos with the titles ‘Reunion after 9 years’ and ‘Nine years – but worth the waiting’.  One of them shows Xanthoula looking down from the deck of the boat with a big smile greeting someone below, and the other with Bert sitting very close to her.  The latter photo which was taken in the cabin shows Xanthoula looking at the camera with a rather shy but radiant smile, while Bert is looking at her with a big smile, really pleased.  This one especially is a lovely photo of a happy young couple.  No wonder the article in ‘The Argus’ starts with the word ‘romance’:

“The romance you see in the pictures of this story had its beginnings in Greece nine years ago during the war. Xanthoula Papadopoulou – at left she is looking down from the migrant ship Cyrenia for a sight of her future husband – was 15 when it all began, but by the time she left Greece recently she had become a school teacher”.

Then follows a brief summary of Bert’s activities in Greece, how he was captured by the Germans, escaped, fought with the Greek partisans, etc.  Everyone loves a good love story, and the newspapers were ready to make of this a ‘war romance’.  To be fair, Bert is quoted at the end of the article as saying that ‘we didn’t really get to know each other until we began corresponding after the war’, which was the truth.  But most people noticed the word ‘romance’.  Bert also stated that ‘we won’t even talk of a wedding date for a while’.  In fact, at that time, he wasn’t sure that there would be a wedding at all, given the precise terms under which Xanthoula was coming to Australia.

The ‘Herald Sun’ also picked up the story, and on the same day it printed a large photo of Xanthoula and Bert, a different one from the two published in ‘The Argus’, with a slightly different version.  The title reads: ‘Greek girl comes to wed soldier she sheltered.’ 

“A young Greek girl who befriended a fugitive Australian soldier during the early fighting in Greece nine years ago, arrived in the boat Cyrenia yesterday to marry him.

High in the mountains of Greece at Retini, near Salonica, Herbert Wrigley, of Yarraville, escaped from a German prison camp and, with the Nazis at his heels, met 16-year old Xanthoula Papadopoulou.  Lovely, brown-eyed Xanthoula, now 24, was selected as Miss Cyrenia by nearly 1,000 passengers on the voyage to Australia.  Wrigley, now 31, had not seen her since he bade farewell to the Papadopoulou family nine years ago”.

In that same article Bert is quoted as saying about our father that “John Papadopoulos, a school teacher, was a typical Greek hero of those days – and one of the finest gentlemen I ever knew.”

What I find interesting, as I am reading through these newspaper articles, is the fact that none of them mentions that our father was executed.  Yet Xanthoula assures me that both she and Bert had talked about it.  It may be that in their effort to present a happy love story, the newspapers didn’t want it to be overshadowed by a tragic event such as an execution.

The ‘Herald Sun’ article continues with more details about Bert fighting with the Greek guerillas and the British Mission, and romanticizes everything by implying that there had been a romance between Xanthoula and Bert.  For example: “He and the young Greek girl enjoyed many walks through the mountains and forests ...”etc.  Xanthoula and I can’t help laughing a little as we read those articles today.  It all sounds very romantic but the reality was that even if they wanted to go for walks, they couldn’t have done it.  Xanthoula was certainly already a pretty girl when Slim stayed with us, and he may well have noticed that, but he was hunted down by the Germans and suffered from severe frostbite in addition to his original leg injury, not to mention the malaria he had contracted.  Survival rather than romance must have been prevalent in his mind.  He could barely walk and had to remain as hidden as possible in our house while he was recovering.  Xanthoula was only fifteen years old and not likely to go off for romantic walks in the forests with a stranger, especially as they couldn’t communicate anyway. Slim’s Greek was minimal at the time and Xanthoula’s English yet non-existent.  I remember Bert staying with us, and I remember mother taking care of his feet, but I don’t remember any particular exchanges between my sisters and him.  Xanthoula says that their contact was limited to Bert sharing the family’s daily life, having meals with us and being taken care of, mostly by our mother.  She also remembers him coming back at some other time with a couple of other Australians, but on those occasions they didn’t stay long.  She was there too when he returned alone and devastated after his two Australian friends had been betrayed and arrested.  As far as she can remember, Xanthoula was there to help our mother prepare and serve meals or mend clothes and participate in other household duties.  So the truth is there was no romance. On the whole though, ‘The Herald Sun’ got the facts straight about Bert being captured, then escaping, being sheltered by our family, fighting with the Greek guerillas and the British Mission, getting pneumonia and being evacuated from Greece through Turkey.

‘The Age’ featured yet another radiant photo of Xanthoula standing on the deck of the boat, with the title “Here to Wed Man She Hid from Enemy”.  I have to say, the photographer was really good!  The article continues:

“A small vivacious girl, who in 1942 when only 15, helped to hide an Australian soldier from the enemy in Greece, arrived yesterday in the migrant ship, Cyrenia, to marry him. (...) The romance began soon after Mr. Wrigley escaped from the Germans who had taken him prisoner while he was in a Greek hospital.  (...)  The fact that they had not seen each other for nearly nine years brought a certain shyness to their meeting yesterday”.

The story continues with some details about Bert’s war experiences in Greece and how he finally returned to Australia.

Finally, there is in my sister’s file a little cutting from another newspaper featuring a short article, without photos, but with the word ‘romance’ quite prominent on the title:

All Helped Romance

“Digger” comradeship is helping the romance of Herbert Wrigley and his attractive Greek sweetheart, Xanthoula Papadopoulou.

Xanthoula arrived in Melbourne yesterday to marry Herbert.  Nine years ago she befriended him after his escape from a German prison camp.

Help from fellow diggers started when Xanthoula went through Customs at Station Pier.

The Customs officer had also been a prisoner of war in Greece, and speeded formalities.

Then Herbert’s boss – another digger – allowed him to leave (“We’ll expect you when we see you”) and wished him luck.

And Herbert’s mate in Greece, Bruce Vary, agreed to be best man.

Xanthoula brought only a few dresses with her, so today Herbert is arranging with his relatives to take her trousseau shopping”.

These articles all appeared on the day after Xanthoula’s arrival.  A week later, the original reporter went to the house in Yarraville to find out how the Greek girl was doing.  He discovered that Xanthoula wasn’t staying in the Wrigley home but had gone to stay with Bert’s sister Claire, who had two young daughters, Marcelle and Fay.  He got the address and visited her there.  Xanthoula is photographed with Claire showing off two new dresses, while Bert is quoted as saying “I will give Xanthoula a little while to get used to being in a new country”, probably as an answer to the question about the wedding date. 

The local Footscray paper interviewed Bert’s father and published a short article with the title “Yarraville Soldier Re-united With Greek Beauty”.  Tom Wrigley was happy to talk about his own war experiences and about the new person in their lives.  Xanthoula is described as “a sparkling beauty”, but the article doesn’t use the word “romance”. After mentioning Bert’s capture and escape from the prison camp, the article continues:

“One day, he, with other Australians, came upon the mountain home of Xanthoula’s father.  A schoolmaster, the father gave them shelter for some time and is described by Bert Wrigley as a “typical Greek hero and a fine gentleman”.

The friendship which sprang up between the fugitive Australian and the schoolmaster’s pretty young daughter had a new beginning this week”.

Again, there is no mention of our father having lost his life.  All newspapers seemed to shy away from that fact.

Xanthoula remembers that the month that followed was like a whirlwind of outings, meeting the various branches of the Wrigley family and going shopping.  I asked her what she was thinking during that time, and she said that honestly she didn’t have the time to think.  To communicate with all these people, learn their names and get to know them even a little, she had to concentrate on her English and improve it fast. Bert would come up to Claire’s on weekends so that they could talk and get to know each other a little.  But during the week he was at work, so the time they spent together was relatively limited.  He didn’t have a car so he travelled from Yarraville to Blackburn by train for the day.  Owning a car wasn’t easy or common in the early fifties, and he was spending all his money on home improvements.  I also asked Xanthoula whether she felt there was some unspoken pressure on her to marry Bert, given all the publicity from the newspapers.  She answered unhesitatingly that what made her decide to stay was the fact that she really liked Bert from the very start. The publicity was a nice thing that came along unexpectedly but it didn’t affect her decision. She says that sometimes she felt that all this, and all the attention she was getting from the family as well, was not happening to her. 

It was in the second month after her arrival that she had to decide whether to stay or to leave.  Whatever the decision, paperwork had to be done and submitted to the Immigration department.  She remembers that the prospect of returning to Greece didn’t appeal at all to her, and Slim had made an excellent impression on her.  As soon as she arrived, she had decided to stay if she liked him. And she did like him even though they had little time together.  She had a strong feeling that he was a lovely and generous person, very honest, an attentive gentleman who could also make her laugh and was fun-loving as well.  I must say that this is exactly how I would describe him, and he kept these characteristics throughout his life.  Xanthoula liked being with him and he seemed quite thrilled with her, in fact all photos show him quite ‘smitten’ in the way he looks at her.  All his relatives received Xanthoula with much warmth and enthusiasm. They were all taken with her, so she was determined to make this work.  She accepted to get married, and wedding plans had to be made fairly soon to meet the three-month deadline.

 

When the wedding was announced, there was another flurry of newspaper articles and more photos the week before.  ‘The Argus’ reporter visited her and took a photo of her ironing a shirt while Bert is looking at her with a big happy smile. I find it quite revealing that in all these photos Bert is looking and smiling at Xanthoula and not at the camera.

At the top of the article we read: ‘Wedding day Sunday’.

“P.O.W., a girl – and a happy ending!

It took one month and six days for one of the newest Australians to be perfectly satisfied for life that her new country was all that it was said to be – and more. (...)”

Then her future brother-in-law, the elder brother, George, is quoted as saying ‘We are glad she’ll be living here after she is married’, and he adds candidly ‘we are a bachelor household of three’. They also say they are looking forward to having some Greek food.

On that subject the article quotes Xanthoula’s opinion of Australian cooking. 

“You people cannot cook at all!  You have the best of everything in the world in the way of food, but you spoil it in the way you cook it!”

I can’t believe that my polite and considerate sister would actually say that!  She says now that she wasn’t as direct as that -- you know how people exaggerate or distort things when they supposedly repeat what you say!

Bert insisted that the wedding should take place in the Greek Orthodox Church, to honor Xanthoula’s family and culture.  He had originally said to one of the newspapers that they were planning on ‘a quiet wedding’, but he underestimated the effect of the publicity and the Greeks.  Thanks to the newspaper photos and articles, many people unknown to the Wrigley family, and of varied nationalities, sent cards with good wishes.  Xanthoula remembers receiving little gifts such as horseshoes covered in white satin with pearls and flowers.  The Greek community was naturally alerted, and many people contacted Xanthoula to welcome her to Melbourne and offer their help.  Many sent flowers before the wedding.  Xanthoula reminisces that one of them, an older lady, even said to her that if she didn’t want to marry the Australian, there were plenty of Greek young men, with shops and businesses of their own, who would be happy to have her as their wife.  Xanthoula thanked her politely but didn’t take her up on that offer!

When the decision was made to have the wedding ceremony held in the Greek Orthodox Church, they both went to arrange a date and meet the priest, the Revered Father Patsoyannis.  The first thing they learned was that, because of Easter, the wedding date had to be advanced considerably to take place before Lent.  Otherwise, they would have to wait until after Easter, in which case the three-month deadline from Immigration would be missed.  So they set up a date for Sunday 4^th of March, much earlier than they had anticipated.  The other problem that came up was that of the best man.  Bruce Vary had already declared that he wanted to be the best man, just as Slim had been his best man at his wedding.  But while there was no problem about the groom not being Orthodox, the best man had to be!  The role of the best man (‘koumbaros) in the Greek Orthodox wedding ceremony is quite an active one.  He assists the priest in performing the rituals.  That may be the reason why he/she has to be of the same faith.  It is noteworthy that women can play that role in the Greek Orthodox Church.  Anyway, this was a strange situation which had to be resolved.  They had to find, and quickly, someone in the Greek community willing to be best man officially, while Bruce would stand beside him.  The word went around and the solution came more easily than they had expected.  Flo’s sister-in-law was married to a Greek gentleman, Mr. John Raftopoulos, who recommended for best man a young nephew of his, Peter Raftopoulos.  He himself would give Xanthoula away since she had no father and no other family member available to take on that part. 

The Raftopoulos family was thrilled to become involved in this by now quite ‘famous’ wedding.  Peter, a tall and good-looking young man, already familiar with Greek religious customs, was quick to learn what he had to do.  His two sisters, Helen and Chris, were florists as well as business women.  They prepared the bouquet of flowers, a richly flowing arrangement of frangipani.  They also helped the bride to choose her veil and crown. Claire took Xanthoula to one of the major department stores in the city, Buckley and Nunn, to choose the material for her wedding dress, and found a special wedding gown dressmaker in her neighborhood.  Bert’s mother had died about seven months before Xanthoula arrived, but she knew that a beautiful Greek girl might be coming and had left money for the wedding dress. 

Everything had to be done faster than they had planned originally but it all worked out well.  Wedding ceremonies in the Greek Church usually take place on Sundays, after the morning liturgy.  On that Sunday, Father Patsoyannis announced at the end of the service that the young Greek girl about whom they had read in the newspapers was getting married on that day.  He invited the congregation to stay on and fill the place of the relatives and friends of the bride.  When the wedding party arrived, they were surprised to walk into a church packed with people they didn’t know!  The ceremony usually lasts about 30 minutes, but it went on longer than that. The relatives and friends of the groom had to be patient, first witnessing a ritual in a language they didn’t understand, then listening to it again in a quick translation into English by Father Patsoyannis himself.  At the end of the ceremony they had to be even more patient when some two hundred people lined up to congratulate the newlyweds, including the close relatives and the two best men.  Bruce Vary remembered for some time how, being short, he was at a disadvantage: he got kissed by all the Greeks (once on each cheek according to the Greek custom) whereas Bert, being so tall, couldn’t be reached by most of them!

The next day, Monday the 5^th of March 1951, the Herald Sun splashed a large wedding photograph on its front page with the title ‘P.O.W. weds the girl who helped’.  After a brief summing up of the ‘war bride’ story it goes on to give a description of the bride’s dress: ‘For her wedding she wore a flowing lace gown with a full, billowing train.  Her tulle veil was caught with a coronet of orange blossom.’  The article also says there were 200 ‘guests’ as the newspaper didn’t know about Father Patsoyannis’ earlier announcement after the service.  Among the real guests were Elli and Anastasia Argyros, the two sisters who shared the same cabin with Xanthoula on the boat.  Fifty-nine years later and both in their eighties, Elli and Xanthoula still talk to each other on the phone and even manage to meet every now and then.  Those early friendships lasted a long time.

The Argus also published a large front-page photo in which both Bert and Xanthoula look radiant:  the title ‘Grecian finale’ features above the photo, and below we read:

“It may look just like any other wedding picture, but it’s the story behind this one that counts. The bride who is facing life with Mr. Herbert Wrigley, of Yarraville, was the young Xanthoula Papadopoulou, who helped Mr. Wrigley when he was an escaped prisoner of war in Greece in 1941”.

The story continues on page 2 of ‘The Argus’ with the title: ‘Escape Route Led to Altar’.

“While the Rev. Dr. C.  Patsoyannis recited the wedding service in the Greek Orthodox Church, Victoria Par., the bridegroom, Herbert P. Wrigley, of Yarraville, and his groomsman, Bruce Vary, of Morwell, thought back to the day in 1941 when they first met.

Fugitives from a German prison camp, they had joined forces on the lower slopes of Mt. Olympus, in Greece.  And the pretty Greek bride, Xanthoula Papadopoulou, thought back to the day, six months later, when the two Australians, tired and hungry, sought shelter at her father’s home.  Yesterday’s wedding was the sequel.

All the world loves a lover, and the romantic story of Xanthoula and Bert Wrigley, told in “The Argus” when she arrived in Melbourne last month, and again on Saturday, was responsible for the church being filled with well-wishers. (...)

The bridegroom stood rigidly at attention throughout the 35-minutes’ service.  He relaxed when the service concluded, but only temporarily.  Following Greek custom, well-wishers, men and women, filed past the bridal group, kissing each on both cheeks, bridegroom and groomsman included. “I’m lucky I’m a six-footer”, Mr. Wrigley said later.  “The men couldn’t reach me easily, and I was able to get away with a handshake.  But poor Bruce, he’s not much over five foot six – he got the lot!”

Family members and very close friends gathered in the Wrigley family home after the wedding for an intimate dinner.  The newlyweds were then driven by Bruce to his home in Morwell for their first night, and then the next day he drove them to a cabin they had reserved for a week at Lakes Entrance. There they had a few days of honeymoon in beautiful nature and a quiet time to start getting to know each other better. 

Go to 14. "Life After Marriage" Blog.

Xanthoula arrived on the migrant ship "Cyrenia" on 31 December 1950.
Bert and Xanthoula married on 4 March 1951.

Xanthoula Papadopoulou