The thunderous roar of artillery, mingled with the whir of engines and, from time to time, the screams of soldiers, played a march from hell.
At French headquarters, as casualty reports continued to pile up, even Marshal Patrice MacMahon, a man who had seen much of the world, could not stop himself from trembling.
After collecting his thoughts, MacMahon forced himself to calm down. He knew he could not panic now. If he failed to respond with composure, France would be finished.
As one of the founders of the French Second Empire, MacMahon's feelings for this country surpassed even his own life.
"You all know what has happened at the front. Our most urgent task now is to find a way to deal with the enemy's armored forces. Only by eliminating them can great France have a future.
"From this moment on, the fate of the Empire rests in our hands. Behind us lies our homeland. We have nowhere left to retreat.
"If you do not want the flames of war to reach our hometowns, if you do not want to see your wives, children, and elders cast adrift, then keep the enemy beyond our borders!
"Time waits for no one. The international situation is worsening by the day, and France does not have much time left. You are all the elite of the French army. The responsibility of dealing with the enemy's armored forces now falls upon your shoulders."
There was no refusing to admit his age. Cruel reality had taught MacMahon a profound lesson. In an age when military technology changed with every passing day, traditional tactics and methods had already been swept into the rubbish heap, increasingly unable to keep pace with the times.
Take these newly emerged Austrian armored forces, for example. MacMahon had fought them