As I write this, I am diabolically tired, so I think I shall have to let you make sense of and comment on this chapter all by yourself – however, I’m sympathising very much with Kutuzov’s thoughts on sleep.
You’ve got to love the contrast between him and Andrei – Kutuzov, letting things happen, on the one hand – and Andrei, still fantasising that he can single-handedly destroy the French.
I think I’m more of an Andrei normally, but at the moment, I think I’ll be a Kutuzov . . . good night all!