The sinking of the SS Ceramic was one of the many tragedies of the Second World War, But for John Dean, uncovered the details of its fate also meant solving a family mystery.

IT was a terrible incident that illustrated the human and inhuman side of war. And, more than 50 years later, it still retains the ability to bring forth tears.

The sinking of the British vessel the SS Ceramic in 1942, torpedoed by a Nazi U-Boat in the Atlantic Ocean, resulted in the loss of all but one of the 656 people on board. It was one of the worst maritime tragedies of the Second World War and among the victims were at least three North-East men, from Chester-le-Street, in County Durham, Hebburn, in South Tyneside, and Darlington.

But what really brought it home to my family was the recent revelation that among the victims was our relative Alf Gibbons.

It was a discovery that finally solved the riddle of his death.

For 50 years, we had known that Alf was a Royal Artillery gunner who went down with his ship while on active service in 1942 but we did not know where or when or how.

The official telegram listing him as missing he was never found offered frustratingly little information.

But as my mother Doreen, of Darlington, started researching our family history several years ago, she stumbled across more and more clues linking her Uncle Alf to the Ceramic.

Also seeking the truth was writer Clare Hardy, of Kent, who wanted to know the circumstances surrounding her grandfathers death on the ship.

Clare's research became a passion and she is the author of SS Ceramic The Untold Story, her recently-published book on the sinking.

It includes an interview with Sapper Eric Munday, the only man who survived, and in remarkable circumstances, too.

Much of the account of the vessels final hours is down to him.

The SS Ceramic was built as a passenger liner by Harland and Wolff, in Belfast, and launched for the White Star Lines Australian Service.

Within two years, she was taken over for use as a troop ship when the Great War broke out in 1914.

Having narrowly avoided being torpedoed on a couple of occasions, she returned to her life of luxury when peace settled on Europe but was requisitioned again in 1939 to carry out further troop-carrying duties when the Second World War broke out.

Her luck did not hold this time and in November 1942, she left Liverpool on what was to be her final voyage. Her passengers included military and naval personnel, nurses and fare-paying passengers and at least 12 children.

Originally sailing in convoy, she detached from the other ships in early December, heading towards the Azores, and on December 6 was hit by a torpedo fired from a U-Boat under the command of Korvettenkapitan Werner Henke.

The story that has emerged in recent years is shocking because, as passengers abandoned the stricken ship, the U-Boat came back some hours later, not to rescue people but to finish its job of destruction.

Having plucked Sapper Munday from the water it has been suggested that the Germans cynically wanted someone, just one, for interrogation Henke sent more torpedoes slamming into the Ceramic.

In all, she took up to five hits and sank. None of those struggling for life in the Atlantic survived in the storm that swept the waters; Henke simply left them to perish.

Sapper Munday, of the Royal Engineers, did live, though, spending the rest of the war as a prisoner of war. Clare Hardy tracked the pensioner down to Surrey while researching her book and he has signed some of the copies. Ironically, Henke, the U-Boat captain, did not survive the war. His vessel was later sunk by US destroyers and he was taken to America and shot dead trying to escape from a Maryland prisoner of war camp in 1944.

AS Clare was researching her book, so our family was trying to discover the truth about Alf, who was from Cheshire and was 27 when he died.

Apart from the fact that he perished when his ship sank somewhere in the Atlantic, we knew nothing. Not even his only surviving brother Tom, now 95 and who moved from Derby to a residential home in the west end of Darlington a couple of years ago, knew what happened to him.

The clues that led our family to the truth emerged through extensive research, using every means available, ranging from parish records to the Internet, which led us to members of our family we did not know existed or had lost touch with years ago.

Our big breakthrough was the discovery of a website established by another relative of a Ceramic victim, who had tracked down a small number of survivors names.

Alfs was among them. It was the first indication of what had happened to him.

That, in turn, led to a small community of people all eager for information on the Ceramic and finally to Clare Hardy and her book.Now, Alfs story, and that of all the others, has been told and our family feels as if, at the end of an emotional journey, he has finally been laid to rest.

Doreen, a retired author, said that, although the revelations had been painful, she was glad she finally knew how he died. "I have found researching our family history absolutely fascinating but although it has brought great joy, Uncle Alfs story shows that such research can also bring pain, "she says.

"When, after more than 50 years, I discovered his story, I wept for the young jazz-loving man who used to tease me when I was a child and for my grandmother, who mourned him for the rest of her days."

And as for me, well as I write this article, my great uncle's picture hangs on the office wall. It shows a smiling, carefree young man sitting on a crate beside the sea. It is an enduring and moving memory of a man I never met because of the events that wicked night in the Atlantic more than 50 years ago. *Clare Hardy's book costs 10. Cheques should be made out to Nevison Hardy Graphic Design and sent to Clare at 11 Birch Way, Tunbridge Wells, Kent, TN2 3DA. Postage should also be sent at a rate of one book 3.75, two books 6 and 3-5 books 9. Clare can be emailed at ssceramic@btconnect.com