For Vietnam veteran Steve Kyritsis OAM, what began as a request from the Greek Consulate 14 years ago has become a lifelong mission: to track down the families of Australian soldiers who fought in Greece during World War II.
“It’s a challenge,” he says. “But it’s also satisfying. A medal that you get for your service in a war is gratitude. And if the veterans are not alive, then the families receive this medal, in this case, from the Greek government.”
His work to offer Anzacs the Greek Campaign War Medal for WWII has already unearthed extraordinary treasures. Steve points to the 1941 photograph of Private Kevin Byrne, an Australian soldier sitting by the fountain at Syntagma Square in Athens.
“That’s a magnificent photo,” he says, eyes lighting up. “An Australian soldier in Greece. That’s history.”
The crusade began when former Greek Consul General of Melbourne Eleni Lianidou reached out.
“It started as a favour,” he recalls. “The Consul General in Melbourne at the time asked if I could take on the challenge. Out of 17,000 who served, about 170 families had never received the medal. It was a big job, and it still is.”
What started as a handful of phone calls and letters quickly became an obsession.
“The first time, we found 10 families. Then we placed notices in the RSL newspaper and the Veterans Affairs newsletter. The word must have spread. Next time we found 30, then 40. We still have 90 families to go,” he says.
Each new discovery feels like a victory, not just for the soldiers, but for their memory.
“Every time we offer medals, I tell myself that’s it, I’ll stop. But then I find another family, another story, another reason to go on,” he admits, noting that many families still have no idea their relatives earned a Greek Campaign Medal, a bronze disc with a profile portrait of King George II of Greece, surrounded by a laurel wreath.
The work is painstaking, emotional, and deeply personal as many of the veterans have passed away, and many families have moved. But when someone contacts him saying, “My father fought in Greece,” Steve springs into action.
“If they have the name and service number, I go straight to the National Archives. I find the record, verify it, and then send it to Greece for confirmation. The file must show that the veteran served in Greece or Crete in 1941,” he explains.
He has become an expert in reading faded service documents and deciphering military shorthand. “Sometimes it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. But when it all lines up, that’s the best part.”
Born on the Greek island of Nisyros, Steve migrated to Australia with his family at age 12. In 1966, he was conscripted into the Australian Army and sent to Vietnam, serving with the 3rd Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment. He saw action at Coral and Balmoral, names that still send a shiver down the spine of those who were there.
“You never forget,” he says simply. “You just find a way to live with it.”
For Steve, he found a way to live with his experiences through a lifelong dedication to service. Over decades, he has combined his military experience, Greek heritage, and commitment to community into work that preserves the memory of those who served.
As former president of the Hellenic RSL Sub-Branch and current president of the Australian Hellenic Memorial Foundation in Melbourne, he has led efforts to recognise veterans, reconnect families with their histories, and ensure their stories are never forgotten. An accomplished author and historian, his books document the contributions of Greek Australians across multiple conflicts. His Order of Australia Medal underscores a life defined by duty, remembrance, and service.
“Some families in Queensland had a tough time approaching the consulate up there,” he says. “They thought I was the most appropriate person to help. So, I bent the rules a little. It was only meant for Victoria, but now I’ve got people contacting me from Queensland, Western Australia, even New Zealand.”
He laughs softly, shaking his head.
“I’m doing it alone. If I wasn’t doing it, it wouldn’t be handed to someone else,” he says.
Every presentation ceremony carries emotional weight.
“Even though the recipients weren’t the ones who fought, the wives, sons, and grandchildren feel something powerful,” Steve says, remembering a family of 16 who turned the medal reception into a family reunion. “It’s like they’re standing closer to the person they lost.”
He has received countless letters of gratitude.
“I’ve got computers full of them. Letters from grandchildren, from families who never even knew their father or grandfather had fought in Greece. You spilled blood for those medals. They’re very personal. And it’s good to know that kids and grandkids feel the same way. For them, it’s about keeping memories alive,” he says.
For Steve, that is what matters most: the legacy.
“I tell my grandson about it. This is something I want him to remember. I want the next generation to know that gratitude doesn’t expire,” Steve says.
Now, with fewer than 100 families left to find, Steve has already been approached by Greek Consul General Dimitra Giorgantzoglou and continues his search.
“I’m going to commit another 12 months,” he says, though it is hard to believe he will ever stop looking until the last recipient is found. “And then that will be it. Hopefully, we should have the medals here for the families in 2027.”
“Every presentation is like a chapter in a book,” he smiles. “Every medal handed over is another story told, another family reconnected with their history.”
It is a way of honouring the fallen: one name, one medal, one family at a time.
“It’s been quite a journey,” he says softly. “And I’ll keep going, for as long as I can.”
