"Boom!" In a suburban wheat field, a cannonball fell, and along with the splashing mud, in the surrounding positions, the Soviet infantrymen shrank their necks, waiting for more cannonballs to arrive.

Sure enough, the second cannonball came soon, exploded into a spark in the distance, and lifted the roof of a barn.

The Germans are here, this time for real. The other party was very close to Moscow, so close that they could use artillery shells to greet the Soviet soldiers stationed outside Moscow.

"Hey! I'm the 414th regiment! Yes! The Germans are shelling our defensive positions! I don't know if the second defense is lost, and the telephone line is blocked... Yes! Comrade Commissar! I will send soldiers to confirm it immediately!" In the hidden regiment headquarters, the Soviet regiment commander was confirming the shelling situation with his superiors.

Above his head is a bunker made of wood and sandbags, which is a very solid and hidden command.

The cannonball shook the ground, and pieces of soil and stones fell from the gaps in the wooden stakes and landed on the map, making a dabbling sound.

The regiment commander fiddled with the gray debris and dirt with his hands, then held the phone and continued: "I didn't hear the gunshots, the Germans didn't attack my position, and the casualties haven't been counted yet... Yes! Yes! !I understand."

After he finished speaking, he put down his phone and instructed the correspondent beside him: "You go to the division headquarters in person and check the situation of the 411 regiment on the front line! Tell the division commander... Forget it, he should know the phone number. There's a problem with the line."

The communicator nodded as if at home, turned around and walked out of the hidden headquarters under the fire of artillery.

Outside is the traffic trench, and a little further away is a heavy machine gun position reinforced with reinforced concrete. There are anti-tank guns in the distance, and countless soldiers are guarding here.

Everything was covered with camouflage nets for air defense, reverse slopes in some places, and countless tents.

This is a huge barracks. Before the Germans turned it into a front line, it was a Soviet camp where at least 3,000 people lived.

But now here, it has become an area of ​​German artillery. Another shell fell, and a tent was thrown into the air. The daily necessities inside were scattered, and it looked very desolate.

"The commander-in-chief called to ask about our shelling..." The Soviet regiment commander looked at the officer beside him and said helplessly.

The order has been received before, and all the troops on the position cannot take a step back without permission.

They were still a long way from the front line, but what they didn't expect was that their positions were bombarded by the Germans so quickly...

It seems that the time for the German troops to attack here will not be too long. This made the Soviet leader very entangled and felt that his life was really bad.

This infantry regiment, or the infantry divisions that included the regiment's superiors, were the main force of the Soviet Union - at least one-third of the soldiers who had been trained could be considered the main force.

"After the shelling is over, immediately confirm the casualties... Let the soldiers have lunch in the position, and each cooking class distributes rations, so that there will be no confusion!" He looked through the observation holes around his headquarters with a dignified expression. The cannonball that landed on his own position said.

After such a short time, the shelling had stopped. Although there was still the sound of shells falling and exploding in the distance, the place had returned to silence.

The German shelling was like a greeting between two people passing by, and it was very restrained to the point.

What was left to the Soviet defenders was a long period of embarrassment, as well as the sorting of the entire position and the counting of the wounded.

The war is getting closer and closer to Moscow, to a disturbing point. In the still smoking position, a Soviet soldier stuck his head out of the trench.

He saw a huge bomb crater not far in front of his position, and the scraps of his tent scattered around the crater.

The tent has been completely destroyed, including the bedding that was too late to pack, as well as personal letters and other items left inside.

But the good news is that he saved his life, at least not from this hasty shelling.

In his opinion, no one would be injured by such a scribbled shelling. Holding his rifle, he was about to laugh at the Germans when he heard someone shouting hurriedly.

Retracting his head, the Soviet soldier turned sideways and looked at the trenches behind him.

Two soldiers carrying a stretcher ran past him in a hurry. The wounded on the stretcher was a hapless man hit by shrapnel, lying on the stretcher bleeding, dying on the verge of death.

"Someone was injured! A shell fell in the trench, and three people died! One person was seriously injured!" The soldiers who were running and carrying the stretcher shouted loudly.

"Where's the medics? Go to the medics!" A veteran pointed to the regiment headquarters not far away, where there was a semi-underground bunker, the field hospital of their regiment.

Because the Soviet Union's medics were scarce, it was impossible to ration each unit too much. The vast majority of medics were precious and generally waited for the wounded in the safer field hospitals in the rear.

It is not much easier to train a medic than to train a tank driver, so sometimes these details are ignored by the top management.

When the number of combat arms such as snipers cannot meet the needs of the frontline~lightnovelpub.net~ Who cares about the popularity of non-combat arms such as medics?

"Not many people died... There were only three... This situation is already very good, but the mood of the recruits in the regiment fluctuated greatly. It is normal for them to be afraid and timid when they see the dead." The political commissar looked at his regiment leader, Speaking of casualties.

He just came back from the outside, the shelling just now, he was not in the headquarters. He had just reached the halfway point of his patrol, so he could only hide in the trenches and wait for the shelling to pass.

When it came to this, he turned his head and looked at the buildings on the edge of Moscow city not far away: "There is Moscow... 7 kilometers behind us is Moscow..."

"So we can't take a step back and fight the Germans here to the last minute!" The regimental commander looked at his political commissar and said, "Fight for the motherland!"

"Yes! We have to fight for the motherland!" The political commissar nodded and said in agreement: "We must hold our ground! Buy the most time for the motherland! Victory will ultimately belong to us!"