Close-quarters combat was not the artillery's forte, and those French Army gunners had been dazed by the earlier barrage. Now, they thought only of fleeing for their lives.
The French Army artillery was routed, and the situation on the battlefield reversed in an instant. Having gained firepower superiority, the Po River Guard launched an almost one-sided slaughter of the French infantry.
Members of the Po River Guard kept loading rockets onto the launch racks. Rockets trailing long tails of flame continuously crashed into the French Army formations, and soldiers fell in swathes.
This time, even with officers and blocking detachments standing behind them, the infantry could not suppress their urge to run.
Only then did Cavaignac understand why those men had endured such enormous casualties to set up rockets on the front lines. They had been trying to destroy his side's firepower advantage.
"Listen up, we outnumber the Austrians three to one! Charge with the entire army and crush them beneath our feet!"
The signalmen immediately raised their flags. Having received the order, the French frontline commanders did not hesitate in the slightest; they understood that this was the wisest decision at the moment.
The disparity in troop numbers was not so easily erased, and the closer they got, the harder it would be for the enemy's firepower advantage to come into play.
The French and Italians were both fighting as though they did not value their lives. The battlefield swiftly became a colossal mill of flesh and blood, ceaselessly harvesting the lives of soldiers.
Blood stained the earth red, gun smoke blotted out the sky, and only the roar of guns, the furious battle cries of soldiers, and their screams echoed through it all.
Garibaldi bayoneted a French soldier charging straight at him, then drew his sidearm from his