The closer to the front line, the more vehicles passed by, horse-drawn carriages, cars and pair after pair of soldiers trudging through the muddy road, these men carrying guns, many with tender faces, their clothes still very new, obviously new recruits.

  Some of them had confusion on their faces, some had excitement, and even some had fear. What the future will be like, and how many people can return home, are all unknown numbers.

  The closer they got to the garrison, the more tense the atmosphere became. The Anglo-French-American coalition and Germany had both made their preparations and were eager for a good fight.

  Suddenly, there was a commotion on the road. A loud rumbling engine sound came from the sky.

  "Take cover, enemy planes are scattering to the roadside." The officers shouted loudly, but the young soldiers were running around like headless rabbits.

  The coachman hastily shook the reins and rushed towards the empty space by the side of the road. The ditch by the side of the road made the carriage jump, and Mu Yang was thrown out of the carriage by this sudden jolt, and fell headfirst into the grass by the side of the road.

  He hadn't even lifted his head when several explosions sounded in his ears, German planes had dropped bombs.

  Before long, the German plane took off.

  They were just doing reconnaissance and harassment, not the main German air force. Besides, bombing in such an open area didn't make much sense. The Germans just wanted to show that this sky now belonged to them.

  Muyang stood up with some regret, fortunately he had rolled over when he was thrown out earlier and hadn't been hurt. The grass was very wet, his clothes were already soaked in one area, and stuck to him were many mud and leaves.

  "These sons of bitches, are they trying to give me a warm welcome?" Mu Yang cursed, picking up the hat that had been thrown far away, shaking off the mud on it, and putting it back on his head.

  The coachman had already straightened up the carriage and hurried over, "Officer, I'm extremely sorry."

  "It's okay, it's the Germans' fault," said Mu Yang.

  "Just now on the way down the road, the carriage was shaking too violently, and the axle is a bit loose. I need to fix it, but it will be fine soon," said the driver.

  "Mm." Murong nodded.

  At this time, someone in the distance shouted loudly: "Is there a medical soldier? There are wounded here."

  The man called out several times, and people around looked over, but no one responded.

  Muyang picked up his own cowhide backpack from the carriage, walked to the wounded soldier, patted the shoulder of the soldier at the front of the crowd, and opened a passage for himself.

  "Let me take a look." Murong said, crouching down.

  "Officer", just now it was a second lieutenant who called out, seeing a major walk into the crowd and squat down to take a look, he hastily shouted "officer".

  The wounded man on the ground was only about sixteen or seventeen years old, just a low-ranking soldier. At this moment, the injured soldier's left thigh had disappeared, revealing charred and rotten flesh and white bones. His chest was also bloody and blurry, with fresh blood seeping out through his already tattered clothes.

  Muyang is not a doctor, seeing such a situation, he was also at a loss, and could only use the superficial medical knowledge he had heard and seen in his mind to give him the simplest bandaging, as for surgery, that can only be done in a hospital.

  Mu Yang opened the leather bag, pretended to rummage through it, and then took out various items that could be used. Bandages, gauze, medicinal powder... Mu Yang busied himself binding up the soldier's wounds, but being unprofessional, the bandaging looked quite sloppy. As for whether it would have any effect, even Mu Yang himself didn't know; he could only do his best and leave the rest to fate.

  Finally, Mu Yang took out a few anti-inflammatory and pain-relieving pills and directly fed them into the soldier's mouth.

  After doing these things, Mu Yang was already sweating profusely. The heat was one aspect, but mainly it was nervousness. He had killed many people before and didn't have much of a reaction to fresh blood and flesh, but when bandaging, Mu Yang was truly flustered for a while, fortunately managing to roughly get it done.

  The wounded soldier was carried away and taken directly to the hospital by truck.

  Watching the truck drive away, Mu Yang could only sigh, a young soldier, hadn't even made it to the battlefield, yet fell on the road.

  Muyang found a puddle of water to wash his hands clean, then sat down on a tree stump left behind after a tree was cut down by the side of the road. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigar, lighting it up for himself.

  His mind was a bit messy, and he still had a hint of emotion in his heart. War, it's really cruel. Although Mu Yang had experienced the baptism of the war-torn era, but facing this scene, he still couldn't achieve the level of calmness like a stagnant pond.

  "Sir, we can set off now." The coachman had fixed the axle and drove the carriage to Murong's side.

  Muyang threw the cowhide backpack into the car and returned to the co-pilot position. The coachman gently shook the reins, and the strong black horse in front stepped out.

  A village appeared ahead, and the coachman drove the carriage into the village. Muyang saw that there were no ordinary French residents here now, only soldiers.

  "Officer, the row of houses up ahead is the headquarters, you'll have to go there yourself," said the driver.

  "Thanks a lot, by the way, leave this pack of cigarettes for you to smoke." Mu Yang casually threw an old sergeant a pack of cigarettes.

  The old man took a look at the exquisite packaging of the cigarette in his hand, sniffed it on his nose, and felt that the roasted tobacco was really fragrant. His face suddenly showed an intoxicated expression.

  Mu Yang jumped off the car, carrying his own leather bag, and walked towards the row of houses pointed by the driver.

  "Commander Lian, you're back?" A voice came from beside him.

  He looked back to see a young officer in his twenties, with the rank of senior captain, who hurried over and stood beside him, saying: "Are you fully recovered from your injuries, Comrade Battalion Commander? We're all delighted that you've recovered. Everyone has been missing you."

  Muyang recognized the captain as his company's deputy commander. The two were delighted to see each other, and Muyang asked, "Clare, how did you end up at headquarters? Where is our unit stationed now?"

  "Commander, our troops' supplies are almost exhausted. I've come to regimental HQ to collect some more." Claire said with a smile.

  "Has the ration been received? If it's done, wait for me a moment, I'll tell the battalion commander and then we can head back to the barracks together." Mu Yang doesn't know the way, now seeing his deputy company commander, he might as well follow him back.

  When Mu Yang asked about the matter of giving birth to a child, Claire's face suddenly fell.

  Muyang noticed something was wrong from his words and facial expression.

  "What's wrong, tell me." Murong Yang said with a determined tone.

  "The quartermaster has been skimping on our rations," Claire said. "We have enough bread, but a lot less of everything else."

  "Never mind," said Mu Yang after a moment's thought. "I'll go with you again later. Wait for me here, I need to see Colonel Wood first."

  "Alright, Lien Long, I'll wait for you here," Claire said.

  Muyang walked towards the team's barracks again.