Just as Karyus was preparing to defend, the northern army group in the north was launching an attack on the Moscow city. There was fierce fire fighting there, and the area behind was relatively quiet.

After all, it is just a calculation of Moscow's urban area, which is quite huge. The battles in the west of the city may not even be heard in the east of the city.

To the east of Moscow is the camps stationed by the army, as well as towns and markets. Because German shelling could not affect this place, many civilians have not yet evacuated.

Because after all, Moscow has been attacked for a day or two, many people still have to live, right?

All the soldiers in the military camp are busy now, including scattered soldiers who have just retreated from the position to rest, some troops that have lost more than half of them to be replenished, and a large number of logistics personnel are running back and forth.

Next to some streets, anti-aircraft guns pointing to the sky stood. These Soviet double-barreled anti-aircraft guns were not high enough, so they were all transferred to these places to charge.

As for the central area of ​​the city's core, it has been replaced with large-caliber artillery to disperse the German bomber group that flew over Moscow from time to time.

"Comrades of the 1st Regiment! Comrades of the 1st Regiment!" Suddenly someone knocked on the barracks gate, and when he came in, he shouted: "Is anyone here to help? A position in the north has been broken through, come and help!"

The man was covered in blood and his military uniform had long been messy. He was wearing a steel helmet on his head and his rifle was hanging crookedly on his shoulders, looking a little embarrassed.

Everyone in the barracks looked at the people coming in, and no one spoke because they didn't know what help was meant.

It’s not that they are timid and afraid of things, but because they have not received orders, the newly formed troops cannot go to the front line.

"It's not that I'm going to the front line! There are too many wounded people! I hope you can help carry it!" Seeing that everyone was not talking, the person who came to ask for help explained.

"That's it." An officer stood up and replied, "This is the 1st Regiment, but we will go to the front line tomorrow."

The dozen soldiers in the room were staring at the soldiers who broke in. No one of them moved without receiving the order.

After all, according to the news, they will go to the front line in the north in the early morning tomorrow, and now is their last time to rest.

"Sorry, I'm from the 1st Regiment of the 11th Guard Division. We have too many wounded soldiers! The hospital is not enough. Can a few comrades go and help?" The person who came asked for something and said very politely. From his words, he could tell that the front line was fighting very fiercely.

The officer in charge did not make any decisions, and did not even stand up. He slowly turned his head and looked at the other commander sitting inside.

"Go, it's not easy to survive. We still have one night to rest. Now we can't die of exhaustion when we do some work." The old commander stood up and said.

"I believe you also hope someone will come to save you when you are injured?" He looked at everyone's incomprehensible eyes and explained.

Then he stood up, walked to the door, and signaled everyone to follow him out: "Let the comrades in other barracks help us watch out for the equipment and things. Those who went there should put the equipment in the barracks. It is inconvenient to save people with weapons."

"Thank you, thank you." It seemed that the visitor from the 11th Guard Division had walked through many barracks. He was probably rejected all the way. His eyes were a little wet, and he thanked loudly at the people in the barracks.

After entering Moscow, it became casual to add the title of "guard" to the troops.

Some troops are equipped with relatively well-equipped, with few new recruits and more veterans, and will be awarded the title of XX Division of Guards.

As such a title becomes a mess, it is difficult to judge how powerful the Soviet army is.

For example, the 11th Guard Division is actually just a well-trained second-line ordinary infantry division. After two days and one night of fighting against the Northern Army Group, most of the troops collapsed.

There was no hour when the front line was undead. After losing a large amount of troops, the position of the 11th Guards Division was taken over by the 17th Guards Division, and the entire division was gathering the wounded and defeated troops, and a turmoil.

Walking on the streets of Moscow, there were hopeless scenes everywhere. Refugees were crowded together, and residents leaned against the streets and alleys to ask for food from those passing by.

Just like a group of beggars, some children helped officers shine their shoes, while some children gathered around the place where weapons were distributed to watch the fun.

All the Moscow elderly people under the age of sixty must receive weapons and participate in battle. They will form a civilian army and fight for the so-called freedom.

After passing through the crowd, there was an artillery position built beside the ruins. A group of people came to a nearby battlefield hospital, and then everyone who came here was completely stunned by the scene in front of them.

A stretcher was hurriedly carried by several people. The soldiers on it were covered in blood, half of their bodies had been deformed, and they had spent a lot of white bones.

He didn't make a sound, because as soon as he opened his mouth, blood would gush out of his mouth, with pieces of internal organs and blood foam.

The eyes were staring straight at the people passing by him, their eyes full of reluctance and pain.

Not far away, the minor injured were thrown into the open space casually, and no one was concerned about it.

Hundreds of people were just taken care of by an aunt and couldn't control them. Screams were endless. Soldiers with missing arms and legs struggled in pain on the ground, and several soldiers with gauze wrapped around their heads were helping to take care of their comrades.

"Gentlemen! Which unit are you from? Where are your weapons?" A tired-faced military doctor came over and asked with a frown.

His white coat was half stained with blood, and it looked so wet that it was very disgusting.

The Soviet officer led the team looked away from an amputated wounded man and replied: "Comrade, we are soldiers of the 20th Guards Division. I heard that you need manpower here and are here to help."

The military doctor immediately looked kind when he heard the officer's answer: "There are not many comrades who are willing to come to help voluntarily. Thank you for your arrival... You can get a few stretchers there to help bring the injuries transported from the front line. Thank you."

"Yes!" Although it was a bit unhappy to arrange for the physical work of lifting the injured, the old commander nodded and agreed.

The military doctor stood attentively and replied with a military salute. He turned to another direction - he had too many things to do, so he didn't care about any details at all.

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Chapter completed!