Transmigrated as the Crown Prince

"Another 13 snipers were lost today?" In the underground command headquarters in Smolensk, Commander Shaposhnikov frowned deeply as he looked at the casualty report in his hand.

Because the German snipers were too rampant, he had to send out his own snipers as the finale in advance to try to counterattack the German snipers. They don't have many snipers. The total number of snipers in Smolensk is only more than 500. In just a few days, they have lost nearly one-fifth of their snipers. "Are German snipers so powerful?"

"Well, Comrade Commander, the German snipers are not very good. Most of our snipers were lost to the enemy's heavy firepower. Once the German snipers find our snipers, they will immediately call for fire support. Sometimes they can One of our snipers can destroy a building." The Germans' firepower was simply insane.

This is just like the upper-class horse versus the middle-class horse and the middle-class horse versus the lower-class horse in Tian Ji's horse racing. The German snipers specialize in dealing with the Soviet infantry and use heavy firepower to deal with the Soviet snipers. Naturally, the Soviet snipers can only be eliminated. share.

At this time, the logistics general in charge of the medical supplies reserve reported an even more worrying problem. "Comrade Commander, our reserve of medicines is somewhat insufficient. Especially the anesthetics and plasma used to rescue the wounded are about to run out."

"..." Commander Shaposhnikov had stockpiled as much medicine as possible before, but when the German ground troops launched an attack, his own casualties completely exceeded his imagination, and the consumption of medicine was naturally faster and faster; this It has only been more than a month since the fight, and more than half of the medicine has been consumed. But now that Smolensk has been completely surrounded, what can he do? Could it be created out of thin air? He doesn't have the ability either.

"Leave life-saving medicines to the seriously injured as much as possible." After a long time, Commander Shaposhnikov said that this was not a solution.

But the logistics general slowly shook his head. "Comrade Commander, if the treatment of the lightly wounded is delayed, they will eventually deteriorate into seriously wounded." By then, no matter whether they are lightly wounded or seriously wounded, they will not escape the fate of death.

"..." Of course Commander Shaposhnikov also knew the consequences, but he really couldn't bear to give up the cruel order to give up treating the seriously injured and let these heroes who shed their blood for the motherland and people to fend for themselves.

After a long while, Commander Shaposhnikov did not make up his mind, and the logistics general took the initiative to speak. "Comrade Commander Shaposhnikov, I propose to give up the treatment of those seriously wounded in the future, and try to restore the combat effectiveness of the lightly wounded as much as possible. I will be responsible for this order."

Commander Shaposhnikov sighed deeply. "I am the commander-in-chief, so naturally I am in charge. I will send a telegram to Moscow and convey this order to the various medical rooms."

At this time, all underground medical treatment stations were overcrowded. Densely packed wounded people were lying on the ground or on simple hospital beds, with painful wailing sounds coming and going, like hell. Looking at these wounded who were unconscious with bloody flesh and blood, or screaming heart-rendingly, no one could tell whether they were lucky or unlucky compared to those soldiers who died in battle.

A doctor whose white coat was barely visible and whose eyes were filled with red bloodshot eyes was quickly examining a batch of new wounded patients who had just been delivered. He was indeed "quick". He could only look at each wounded person once at most, and this single glance could determine the life or death of these wounded people.

"Give him a blood transfusion immediately!" The wounded man was shot in the leg. The wound was not serious, but he had lost a lot of blood. "Give him new gauze, be careful not to get an infection."

"He's not alive anymore. Let's carry him out." Although the wounded man was still breathing weakly, the doctor saw that he was hopeless. The wounded man's lips trembled slightly, as if he wanted to prove that he still needed to be rescued, but after a few seconds, the anger in his eyes gradually disappeared, and he stared wide-eyed.

The next wounded man's legs were badly damaged. "He needs both legs amputated!"

At this moment, a soldier hurried over, pulled the doctor aside, and whispered in his ear.

"What?!" After hearing the news conveyed by the soldier, the doctor was shocked. "Who gave this order?!"

The soldier said extremely seriously. "This is an order personally issued by Comrade Commander Shaposhnikov. Comrade Commander said that you must obey unconditionally. This is also to treat more wounded people."

"..." The corners of the doctor's mouth twitched slightly, his chest heaved violently, and the anger in his eyes seemed to burst out.

After a while, he gradually calmed down, turned around and walked to the wounded man whose legs were blown up. "Carry him into the operating room, and I will operate on him." If he followed Commander Shaposhnikov's order, the wounded man would have to be carried out to fend for himself. He couldn't bear it, and decided to give it to him personally. When the wounded are operated on, one more person can be saved.

Soon, the "lucky" wounded patient was carried into the operating room surrounded by a piece of white cloth.

The doctor tied the injured person's limbs firmly to the operating table with ropes as thick as his thumb, and said while tying them up. "Young man, we don't have enough anesthetic, so we can only give you local anesthesia. It will be very painful, so you have to endure it!"

"Thank you, doctor!" The wounded man expressed his gratitude weakly.

The doctor didn't have time to put on surgical clothes. Anyway, that's not what matters here. What matters is the speed of the operation.

After injecting anesthesia into the injured man's legs, the nurse handed him a hacksaw. This terrifying hacksaw was obviously not a disposable weapon. There were obvious blood stains on the anti-slip texture on the handle, which had turned black.

The doctor took the hacksaw and started cutting on the wounded man's left leg.

"ah!!"

I don't know whether it was because the anesthesia was a little low or because the pain just couldn't be ignored. The injured on the operating table let out heart-rending screams and struggled desperately.

Although the wounded man was in excruciating pain, the doctor showed no intention of stopping and kept cutting back and forth one after another. Until the knee of the left leg, part of the thigh bone, and the surrounding flesh and blood were sawed off. The huge pain caused the wounded to faint. Throwing the cut items into the trash can aside, the doctor changed to a hacksaw, walked to the other side, and started cutting the wounded man's right leg.

"Ouch!!"

The wounded man woke up from the huge pain, but he fainted again after a while. After waking up from the pain and fainting, the doctor finally completed his operation.

"Bandage him! Use new gauze, be careful not to get an infection!"