Melpomeni Dina Gianopoulou. Unsung Greek Heroines of the Holocaust

In 2019, at Jerusalem’s Yad Vashem, a long-awaited reunion took place after more than seven decades. 92-year-old Melpomeni Dina Gianopoulou came face to face with the people she had saved as a young woman in Nazi-occupied Greece. 

A Town in the Shadow of Thessaloniki

Veria is a small Greek town near Thessaloniki, home to one of Europe’s oldest Jewish communities before the war. The Mordechai family led a peaceful life there. Mentes and Miriam raised five children and employed Melpomeni’s sister as a servant in their home. This simple bond between the employers and their maid would soon transform into something much deeper.

When German persecution reached rural Greece in 1942, the situation of the Jews became desperate. Thessaloniki, once called the Jerusalem of the Balkans, lost almost its entire Jewish community. Transports to Auschwitz claimed tens of thousands of lives. Amidst fear and betrayal, three young Greek women made a decision that could have cost them their own lives.

A Mosque as the First Refuge

Melpomeni and her sisters initially hid the entire six-member family in an abandoned mosque. It was only a temporary rescue, as the conditions soon became unbearable. The youngest child, little Shmuel, suffered the most and became seriously ill. His condition worsened day by day, putting the sisters before an impossible choice.

In the middle of the night, two of the sisters carried the sick infant and set out on foot for a distant hospital. Every step posed the risk of discovery, every encounter threatened denunciation. They managed to reach the hospital and leave the child in the doctors’ care. When the sisters returned a few days later to visit their young patient, they found him covered with a white sheet.

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Two Years in Hiding

Shmuel’s death did not break the sisters’ resolve. They moved the remaining family members into their own home in Veria, where for the next two years they shared every meal and every night full of fear of a knock on the door by the Germans. Yossi Mor, who was just two months old at the time, spent his life listening to stories about those weeks in hiding.

In the small Greek town, where everyone knew each other, keeping such a secret required extraordinary courage and solidarity. A single denunciation, a careless word, could have brought the entire rescue effort to a tragic end. Despite the risks, the sisters never hesitated for a moment.

A Reunion After Years

In Jerusalem’s Hall of Names, a site commemorating the millions of Holocaust victims, 86-year-old Sarah Yanai held the hand of her rescuer. Tears streamed down both women’s faces. Sarah, who spent two years in hiding as a child, struggled to find words to express the inexpressible. She spoke of the danger that faced the Greek sisters, how they risked their own family’s lives.

Melpomeni came to Israel surrounded by more than twenty people: descendants of the rescued family. Children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren came up in turn to embrace the elderly woman. Yossi Dagan, the 28-year-old grandson of Yossi Mor, said that for him, the three Greek sisters had always symbolized heroism and served as a role model.

The heroine of the meeting never sought praise. When thanked for her courage, she answered in Greek with words that everyone remembered: she simply wished she could have saved more people.

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Margot Cleverly
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Margot's journey into women's history began with a box of forgotten letters in a Cambridge archive – suffragettes whose voices had been silenced for over a century. Since then, she's been on a mission to uncover the stories history overlooked.

What she writes about: Queens who ruled from the shadows. Scientists whose male colleagues took credit. Revolutionaries who risked everything. But also ordinary women – those who survived wars, raised families through upheaval, and shaped their communities in ways no one bothered to record.

Margot turns historical figures into real people. She writes with warmth and detail, making centuries-old stories feel surprisingly relevant. Rigorous research meets accessible storytelling – no dusty academic jargon, just compelling narratives backed by solid facts.

When she's not writing, you'll find her in regional archives, collecting oral histories, or visiting sites connected to the women she writes about.