This is a story I wrote for school a little while back, which is kind of meh in my opinion. It isn't really MC related, but I still thought I should upload it since my PMC profile tends to be history heavy and it deals with history.
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St Helena, 1821
  
 I lay down, fast asleep, when I awake with a jolt at the realization that someone is knocking upon my door. I lay there, apprehensively waiting, thinking it might be the British coming to execute me. After what seems like an eternity, the knock arrives once again upon my door. Relieved, I arise to receive my visitor, a little girl that I call Emil. “Good morning Mister Bonaparte, how are you today?” She asks me. “Tres Bien, I am very good, moreso now that you are here you little mischief maker.” I reply. “Now I suppose that you wish for a little story from dear old Napoleon, no?” I ask her. She responds “Of course Uncle Napoleon, a story would be lovely!” “Well then, I shall tell you about my early career in…”

Nice, Italy, 1796

I sit down at the desk in my tent to take up the quill to write a letter to my beloved Josephine about my new command in the Italian theatre of war. As I write to her, my thoughts transfer to the aide de camps I sent ahead to meet with the leaders of the Army of Italy in Nice, which we recently captured. My mind wonders how the soldiers and commanders of the Army of Italy will receive me, their new commander, a sallow youth from Corsica. Well, their opinion of me should be no major obstacle in my path to attain glory here of some degree in the Italian theatre. My thoughts returning to my letter in front of me, I write my beloved Josephine of these problems enrapturing my mind and finally finish my letter, signing my name and ending it with a flourish.

I dispatch a local courier, paying him 20 francs for his troubles in delivering my letter, though I am unsure if he will even manage to deliver it. I forget my troubles as I lay my head to rest before the next day.

I arrive in the camp at Nice at around noon of the next day, and observe that many of the soldiers point and laugh at me, but after a short moment they stop, even without looking at me, which is a curious occurrence. Many of them are in poor physical condition, and there is this feeling of low spirit felt all around the camp. I search around the camp for my aides, whom I sent ahead, and quickly started to converse with them about the subject I had most worried about, and what they say does not please me in the slightest. “General, the men in charge around here laughed when we mentioned that you were coming to take command of the army. They also said that you couldn’t manage such a big job as one so little, and that you would fail in your charge.” They both tell me. “Then let them come before me, and once this day is out, we shall see who is the one that will fail in their charge and be laughed at!” I yell before sending them to fetch my subordinates here.

As soon as they all arrive, I give them a few minutes in silence, looking them over, judging their traits of character before figuring out the best way to win them over. I begin using a strong voice of confidence, “Generals, I am a man of action, and this army has through in-action, crippled itself, but I shall change that. I shall bring us to victory over the Austrians no matter the cost, and I shall bring us glory. If any one of you wishes to contest my authority here, do step forward now with your opposition.” One of them did step forward, but it was not a challenge to my authority, rather, a concern, “We agree sir, but we have one problem: what of the men sir? They are poorly clothed and fed, and many have been considering desertion. What can you do to fix this current situation so that we may better the army’s spirit? They are in no condition to fight at current sir.” I think for a moment and then reply “Do not worry, for when you are concerned in a matter, I shall discuss it with you, but I shall take care of it in this case.” I leave my generals dumbfounded by the passion and enthusiasm with which I spoke, and head to oversee the army preparations.

Looking out at my troops, I devise a plan to cheer them up and rally them to the Jacobin cause for the revolution. “Soldiers!” I exclaim, “You are naked and ill fed, no fame shines upon you! I will lead you into the most fertile plains of all the world! Rich provinces and great cities will lay in your power! You will find there, honor, glory, and riches!” I finish my passionate speech amid cheers from my army. From their midst I hear shouts of “Vive l’Republique!” and “Vive l’France!” in support of the revolution. Heartened by their support for me, I prepare the army for the ensuing battles with the Austrians.

Lodi, Italy, May 10, 1796

I pull out my telescope to view the Austrian rearguard covering the bridge-crossing at Lodi. I wish to think of an effective way to attack, but not cost us too much time, so I ponder awhile before finally thinking of something. I think of a way that I can attack and take the town, as well as testing the resolve of my soldiers in following orders. If they do what I ask of them, I shall know I have their faith and loyalty, and that they are the best troops in the Republique. Having confidence in my plan, I again return to surveying the enemy formations in preparation for the attack.

At around one in the afternoon, my soldiers begin their march forwards across the bridge towards the enemy-held town, when we begin giving them a bit of artillery fire for support to cover their advance towards the enemy lines. Towards the center of the bridge, they were encountered by a heavy salvo of artillery fire from enemy batteries, causing them to hesitate. Helping to sight our artillery, I cursed their hesitations, watching with anger as they stood there like stupid animals. It took some time for the officers of the column to move up to the front before driving the soldiers onward across the river. Finally, after a lengthy amount of time, the soldiers cross the bridge and clash with the Austrian troops who rout before very long, leaving most of their artillery behind for our forces. With a shout of “Vive l’Victoire” I look onwards, realizing the road to Milan is open. We shall free Milan and move onwards towards victory and peace with Austria!

St Helena, 1821

“Well Emil, look at the time! I have no doubt your family would be angered with me at detaining you to this hour.” “Yes Uncle Napoleon, thank you for the story. It was wonderful to learn more about you and your job.” She replies. I see her out to the door and watch as she runs down the road and out of sight. I close the door and contemplate my career and all the good and evil I down during my life time. I think about Emil, concerned for her getting home on time before lying down to close my eyes for the last time.
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Thank you all for taking the time to read this. Criticism is welcome, but blantant hatred is not. Danke-schoen!