Pilo's staff officer glanced at his pocket watch, then turned and reminded him, "General, it's almost nine o'clock."
Pilo nodded gravely. According to the plan, he and Blücher would launch their attacks simultaneously at ten thirty in the morning.
Back when he was still a colonel, he had fought under Napoleon's command. The days when he had followed the French Army in bullying the Austrian Army remained vividly etched in his memory.
Yet now, he was about to face the French Army head-on.
He felt as though he were about to step into an arena and fight a lion for his life.
"Luckily, that man isn't here." He muttered softly, forcefully straightening his chest to make himself seem more confident.
Naturally, he meant Napoleon.
"Tell the soldiers to prepare for battle." He gestured to the Orderly Officer. "We will win."
Meanwhile, ten kilometers southeast of the Pilo Legion, a messenger raised his hat to colonel Joubert, commander of the French Army's Engineering Corps.
"Colonel, General Ney asked me to inform you that he is ready."
"Please tell General Ney that the Sardinians are in the river valley southwest of him. There are more than twelve thousand of them."
"Yes, Colonel."
Joubert turned to Montalto, the Parma commander beside him. "They should be making their move soon. We should prepare to set out as well."
At ten thirty in the morning, thunderous cannon fire rang out from St. Gotthard Pass on schedule.
The Blücher Legion pushed its last four 6-pound Cannons all the way to the front. The Royal Grenadier Battalion charged the French defenses at the risk of their lives.
Yet in less than twenty minutes, French heavy artillery drove them back, leaving only corpses strewn across the ground.
Blücher stared at his watch and roared, "Why haven't those Sardinian