THE GOOD Solider Sam is the memoir of the late Sam Berkovitz, who with the help of author and journalist Simon Blumenfeld — also now sadly deceased — tells a life story which begins in 1905 in Stepney, where he was born to Jewish immigrant parents from Romania.

[[{"fid":"14124","view_mode":"inlineright","fields":{"format":"inlineright","field_file_image_alt_text[und][0][value]":false,"field_file_image_title_text[und][0][value]":false},"link_text":null,"type":"media","field_deltas":{"1":{"format":"inlineright","field_file_image_alt_text[und][0][value]":false,"field_file_image_title_text[und][0][value]":false}},"attributes":{"class":"media-element file-inlineright","data-delta":"1"}}]]He spent the majority of his life either in the poorly paid lower end of the tailoring trade or signing on the dole when work dried up. Living with his wife in the same humble flat for 60 years, even in relatively prosperous times they rarely had more than a few pounds to rub together.

Although the book makes clear that Berkovitz viewed his life as half-full rather than half-empty, those straitened circumstances led him almost inevitably into the arms of the Communist Party of Great Britain, of which he was an active but non-conformist member for many years, and with which he worked on rent strikes, the Battle of Cable Street and support for anti-Franco forces in the Spanish Civil War.

Historians of the party will be interested in his thoughts on the internal political machinations of the time, particularly in relation to the splits over Stalin, along with his views about some of the most prominent British communist characters of the pre- and post-war era, including Maurice “Tubby” Rosen and Nat Cohen, both of whom he knew personally.

A political tome this is not, however, and Berkovitz’s engagement with working-class politics is mainly concerned in laying out the harsh everyday realities of life in the billiard halls, back alleys and public libraries of the East End rather than focusing on political committees and campaigns.

Many of his tales concentrate on the mundane but memorable high-spots of an impoverished life — of bets won on horses, slap-up meals unexpectedly afforded or pieces of good luck that last only fleetingly.

Despite his trials and tribulations, Berkovitz tells his stories with affectionate good humour, aided by ghost-writer Blumenfeld’s crystal clear, engaging style.

Both he and his pal grew up in the same environment and shared many of the same interests and experiences, so it’s no surprise that the partnership works on the page.

If history is written by the victors, then here might be a valuable exception to that rule.

Self-published, price £6.