Napoleon strode over towards the man and stood in front of him, crossing his arms as he glared at the soldier. ‘Your name?’

‘Guardsman Bercourt, sire!’

‘So then, Bercourt, you want to charge at your enemy?’

‘Yes, sire. As does every man in the Guard.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Yes, sire.We are the best men in the army. In any army. It is our right to prove our worth in battle.’

‘Your right?’ Napoleon frowned. ‘You are a soldier, you have no rights. Just orders, and you will obey them. Look here, Bercourt.’ Napoleon gestured to the stripes on the man’s sleeve. ‘You have served the minimum number of campaigns to qualify for the Guard.Yet you presume to know how to command the army better than your Emperor?’

The guardsman’s gaze flickered guiltily towards Napoleon’s face before snapping back to his front and staring over his Emperor’s shoulder. ‘No, sire.’

‘No, sire,’ Napoleon mimicked. ‘Of course not. Let me tell you, Bercourt, only when you have commanded in as many battles as I have should you even dare to offer me advice on how to run the army. Understand?’

Bercourt swallowed nervously. ‘Yes, sire.’

‘Very well, return to the ranks.’

‘Yes, sire,’ Bercourt replied in a humbled tone.

Once the man had resumed his position Napoleon glared at the massed ranks of his finest soldiers and called out,‘Is there any other man amongst you who would presume to command his Emperor?’

The words were met by silence and Napoleon nodded as he addressed them again. ‘Thank you, gentlemen. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a battle to fight.’

He turned away and strode back to join Berthier and the other staff officers. They had been watching the confrontation, but now turned to follow the progress of the French line as it gradually pushed the Prussians back. Napoleon shook his head as he approached Berthier.

‘Damned glory-hunters! There are a sight too many of them in the army for my taste. It’s young men like that who end up like Marshal Ney.’

Berthier shrugged. ‘Is that such a bad thing? It is only a measure of the men’s élan, sire.’

‘Élan?’ Napoleon frowned. ‘I command an army, Berthier, not a duelling society. What use is élan if it leads to recklessness? The Grand Army is an instrument of my will, and the men must understand that first and foremost. Otherwise they threaten us all with disaster.’

‘Yes, sire.’ Berthier conceded. ‘I will have that soldier and the rest of them reprimanded.’

‘No. That’s not necessary.’ Napoleon thought for a moment before he continued. ‘Promote him to sergeant. I need men who are keen to fight. But tell him that if I ever hear him, or any man in his company, challenge my orders like that again, I’ll have the lot of them sent to rot in the navy.’